Unforgotten


by
Shawn Carman




Ryoko Owari Toshi, thirty-five years ago. . .


A dark man ran his hands across the stone altar in the center of the shadowed chamber and laughed softly. There was a grand table deep beneath the castle of his birth, far to the northeast. He had known since long before his gempukku that he would never sit at that table, even if his elder brother had long since taken a place there. But if they would not give him what he deserved, then he would take it. His smile broadened at the sound of a door opening. Beyond, he could hear the muted sounds of screaming in the streets. “Musagi,” he said, addressing his lieutenant, “how are things progressing?”


“Not well at all,” came an unfamiliar voice. The dark man looked up from the altar to see a young man dressed in blue with long, flowing white hair. “I am afraid your assistant is in no condition to report to you. I hope that you do not take offense.”


“Who are you?” the dark man demanded.


The man bowed slightly. “I am Doji Oruku, magistrate of the Crane Clan. And you must be the man who calls himself Isawa Orimono, though I suspect that is not your true name. Shall I call you ‘O-Sama,’ as your followers do? It’s a rather pretentious name, if I may say so.”


“The Crane,” sneered Orimono. “Always so quick-witted. You will not goad me, Doji. You may have bested Musagi, but he was little more than a loyal simpleton. You will not fare as well against me.”


“Enough bravado,” Oruku said, drawing his blade. “Your plan has failed. Your ritual is being disrupted as we speak. All that remains is your punishment.”


“No!” exclaimed Orimono. “I can hear the screams from the street!”


“Those are your followers. The Dragon Orb is ours. I say again, you have failed. I give you this one chance to surrender.”


“I offer you the same, Crane,” Orimono said. “Allow me to flee, and when I return I will show you mercy.”


Oruku sneered and lunged at the Phoenix just as the man began to speak words of magic. The two came together with a ringing of steel and a crackle of dark energy, and then there was only silence. Moments later, a resounding crash came from the top of the stairwell. A huge Crab samurai rushed down the stairs, followed shortly by a young Dragon with both blades drawn. “Oruku!” shouted the Crab. “Are you here?”


“Here,” came the weak reply. The two rushed to the center of the room where a bloodied tangle of bodies lay in the floor. One still moved and struggled to rise, but failed. The others reached down to pull him to his feet.


“Orimono?” asked the Dragon.


“Dead,” replied Oruku, pointing to an open-eyed corpse. “Sadly, he managed to leave his mark.” He gestured to the green, oozing wound on his shoulder. “The color matches poorly with my wardrobe, I’m afraid,” he added, drawing a chuckle from his Crab friend.


“Is it over? Is the threat ended?” the Dragon asked.


“For now,” replied Oruku. He pulled his kimono over the mark, wincing as he did so.


“What did he want here?” asked the Crab.


“We might never know,” Oruku said. “Let us return to the temple and see if the shugenja can undo what he has done to me.”



Kyuden Isawa, present day...


Asako Bairei flipped through the pages of the ancient manuscript. For hours he had pored through the scrolls, eagerly searching for the information he required. He did not notice how the inks had stained his fingertips black, nor the creaking of his weary bones as he shifted in his seat. Now, as always, he noticed nothing save the thrill of the hunt. In his mind there was no difference between his search for knowledge and the triumph of a bushi on the field of battle. It was a service to his clan. It was his passion. It was his life. He ran a hand through his tangled hair and pushed on.


“Bairei-sama,” came a soft voice from the chamber’s entrance. The scholar turned suddenly, wincing at the pain in his neck and blinking at the light of the lantern. His vision swam for just a moment before he focused on the figure standing in the doorway. “Yuya-chan,” he smiled. “How nice to see you. I thought you weren’t returning until tomorrow?”


“It is tomorrow, Bairei-san. You have worked through the night. Again.”


“Oh,” he responded, eyes widening as he glanced at the window. “I did not notice.”


“Aren’t you tired? Or even hungry?” she asked, her pretty face creasing with concern. “How can you sit in once place reading for over a day?”


“Well,” he said, somewhat embarrassed, “it was very compelling reading.”


The young shugenja shook her head in exasperation. Bairei was a good man, more fiercely intelligent than anyone she had ever met. She had little doubt that he could become one of the most powerful shugenja in the clan, if he but devoted himself to the task. But that was not his desire. Hidden lore, forgotten knowledge... these were the things that fired his soul.


Bairei turned to the young woman as they walked down the corridor toward the library’s exit. “How was your visit to Otosan Uchi, Yuya-san? Did you enjoy yourself?”


Yuya stopped short in the corridor, horrified. “You... you don’t know?”


The scholar looked perplexed. “I do not understand. Has something happened? Was there another earthquake?”


A single tear rolled down Yuya’s cheek. “An earthquake. Yes, of sorts. You might say... you might say that it was the final earthquake.”


Bairei was focused now. “Tell me.”


Yuya laid one hand softly on her friend’s shoulder and continued down the corridor. The tale was difficult, and it would take time.



It was late, but Bairei could not sleep. The thought of Otosan Uchi’s fate, of how much knowledge was lost forever, was too much. How easy it must be for others to think him a fool, that something so important could have gone unnoticed for a week. It had always been easy to become engrossed in his research. There were often things that went unnoticed. Perhaps that was why others found him so unsettling. They thought him oblivious to such things, but he was no fool. He was simply passionate about his duty.


Bairei sighed and rose from his mat. He had promised Yuya he would not return to the library until morning, but he did not know what else to do. There were so many matters to attend to. The one that weighed most heavily upon his mind was the rumor that Yuya had told him. The Elemental Masters believed that Fu Leng’s spirit had ascended to the Celestial Heavens. If such horrible news was true... the idea was so terrible Bairei could not begin to imagine what it could portend.


The scholar lit a lantern and sat at his desk. He drew out a blank scroll and began jotting down random notes to aid him in his research. What threat might Fu Leng pose to the existing balance of power in Tengoku? As one of the Kami, Fu Leng had been made mortal by his fall to earth. Theoretically, his mortal power would be inferior to the power of the Elemental Dragons, but the Lost Brother had never seemed quite so limited as the other Kami. Perhaps his complete corruption by Jigoku granted him more potent abilities. Fu Leng was perhaps the only being in existence that had seen both the Celestial Heavens, and the Pit of Jigoku. He had mastered both darkness and light, and as the Phoenix well knew experience bred knowledge, which in turn bred power. Who else in all the realms had walked the paths of light and dark and could match power against Fu Leng?


Bairei chuckled as the answer came to him. Hitomi, the Lady Moon, had been one of the Seven Thunders, those destined to defeat Fu Leng. After fulfilling her destiny she had become seduced by the power of the Obsidian Hand, and would have led her entire clan into the embrace of the Lying Darkness had the wisdom of the Dragon not saved her. Surely Hitomi could stand against Fu Leng, and if Bairei could gain some insight into her power perhaps the Phoenix could somehow add to her might. Sadly those who knew Hitomi best, her own family, would be unlikely to aid him. The Dragon were at war with the Phoenix and members of the Hitomi family tended to be the most bloodthirsty and violent of the lot. In fact many in Bairei’s clan would scoff at the idea of aiding Hitomi, a former Dragon. In Bairei’s mind, threat of the Dragon Clan paled in comparison to Fu Leng.


Bairei’s mind drifted back to half-forgotten accounts of moon cultists that he had read in his lifetime of research. He had not deliberately delved into the topic, but had come across only occasionally, and then only by happenstance. Perhaps the library’s records held something that could help him understand the nature of Hitomi’s power. He could not identify what cause him such disquiet, but he had long since learned to trust his subconscious memory.


He rose to collect his things and go to the library, then suddenly sat back down and sighed. He hated it when Yuya forced him to make promises, and she had demanded that he return to a normal sleep schedule. He could deny her nothing. With a shake of his head, he returned to his tatami mat to wait for the sunrise. Perhaps by then he would remember whatever forgotten account troubled him so.



Bairei left the library very little in the next few days. Yuya forced him to leave to rest or eat every so often, but it was always a brief reprieve, no more than a few hours at most. The other denizens of the library remarked at the scholar’s uncharacteristic intensity and left him to his own devices.


After a few short weeks, he found the information he had been seeking. He had expected it to take longer given the sheer volume of information contained within the library, but Fukurokujin clearly smiled upon him. There were two separate accounts of an event in the Scorpion lands nearly forty years ago. One had been filed by a Shiba magistrate shortly thereafter and told of the untimely death of an Isawa shugenja due to illness during a visit to Ryoko Owari. The other, however, was far more interesting.


The second account was duplicated from the Scorpion records. How such a document found its way into the Isawa libraries, Bairei did not know. Perhaps the Phoenix had captured it from that sinister clan’s lands in the aftermath of the coup in 1126. Regardless, the account came from a Shosuro member of the family who spoke of a moon cult that had attempted some dire ritual of unknown origin during the Bon Festival. A Phoenix, not specified by name, supposedly stood at the head of the cult. The date was the same as the death recorded in the previous document.


Bairei reclined and clasped his fingers together, lost in thought. Other than some suspicious and unconfirmed encounter between a Fox patrol and a band of heretical monks deep in the Spine of the World Mountains, this was the only substantial account of recent moon cult activity that he could find. It held more information on the moon god, of course, documenting Onnotangu’s role in the Empire’s struggle against the Lying Darkness and his death at the hands of Hitomi. Clearly, the Cult of the Moon was the key. If Bairei could find them, he could gain insight into the goddess they served.


The scholar rose to his feet just as Yuya approached his table. She smiled in surprise. “Have you actually decided to take a break on your own, Bairei-san? That would be a first.”


“Yuya-san, can you see to it that a is readied? I need to leave as soon as possible.”


The young shugenja’s smile turned into a slack-jawed stare. “You’re leaving?”


He nodded. “I must conduct some research, and I cannot do it here.”


“But where are you going?”


Bairei glanced down at the genealogical record he had been studying, as well as a handful of recently written scrolls detailing the events in Otosan Uchi. “Kyuden Seppun,” he answered. “There is someone there I must see.”



The journey to Kyuden Seppun, while hardly pleasant, was mostly uneventful. Numerous units of soldiers patrolled around the ruins of Otosan Uchi and the Seppun lands, but Bairei was an unassuming man with the proper travel credentials, so they gave him little trouble. The wait to gain an audience with Doji Jotaro was far more troublesome. In the grand scheme of things, Jotaro was not so much more important than Bairei, but his position as one of Toturi Tsudao’s chief lieutenants made him a busy man. It was difficult to gain access to him without more notice than he had been able to provide.


On the sixth day of his stay at Kyuden Seppun, Bairei finally met with Jotaro. It was not a glamorous or even formal meeting. Bairei found himself in the meager Seppun library when the soft clearing of someone’s throat drew his attention. “I believe you wanted to see me?” asked Doji Jotaro. “I apologize or the delay, but my attention has been diverted elsewhere.”


“Your apology is appreciated, but not required,” smiled Bairei. “It is I who arrived requesting an audience with no notice in the midst of what must be a busy time for you. I offer my apology.”


Jotaro waved his hand absently. “Nonsense. Now, what is it that I can help you with?”


“Your uncle,” answered Bairei, “was a magistrate, was he not? Doji Oruku? Assigned to Ryoko Owari?”


The Crane frowned slightly. “Yes. He and my father Ryoma both served in Ryoko Owari during their careers, although they each went on to other things eventually. Why do you ask?”


Now Bairei had a chance to frown. “According to my research, your uncle was responsible for disrupting a moon cult ritual during the Bon Festival. Are you familiar with this incident?”


“I am,” the magistrate answered. “The honor of the deed allowed my uncle to advance within the clan to serve Doji Hoturi directly. He was very proud of his achievements.”


“Deservedly so,” admitted Bairei. “But I suspect that the story held more than he reported to the Phoenix. Not that he was a dishonorable man,” he added hastily. “Far from it. I believe that he kept certain. . . sensitive information from the public eye in order to spare the honor of the Isawa family.” He pared carefully at Jotaro. ‘Would you know anything about this?”


Jotaro’s expression grew cold and emotionless.


“My uncle’s affairs were just that: his affairs. It is not my place to second guess his motives or actions, nor would I wish to do so.”


Bairei shook his head. “You do not understand, Jotaro-sama. I am not here to cast doubt upon your uncle’s achievements. I am here because I need to know the truth about the moon cult. I believe that your uncle was cursed during the battle. In return for healing him, the Phoenix demanded his silence. If this is true, then the dishonor would not be your uncle’s, but the Phoenix’s.”


The magistrate still did not seem convinced. “What you are asking... it could create problems, even after all these years.”


“Yes,” agreed Bairei, “but I will be the one to bear the brunt of them. Your family’s honor will remain pure, as it should be.”


Jotaro paced back and forth across the small room for several minutes, rubbing his chin and thinking carefully. Finally, he glanced sidelong at Bairei and frowned. “The man whom my uncle killed was indeed a Phoenix, and he was the leader of the moon cult. Few knew then, however, and even fewer know now that Isawa Orimono was merely an alias. Although I do not know his true name, I do know why his involvement was concealed.” He stopped, and stared at Bairei as if assessing him.


“Please,” the scholar said. “You must tell me. For the Empire.”


“I am not a man who trusts others easily, Asako Bairei,” Jotaro said. “My duties have shown me far too many willing to say what others wish to hear in order to benefit themselves. There are many who will make promises to gain the favor of those who have what they want. My instincts tell me that you are an honorable man, and that there is no deception within you. yet I am hesitant. What can you offer me to set my mind at ease?”


“Bairei shook his head. “I have nothing. I can only offer you my word.”


“Then that must suffice,” said Jotaro. “The man who my uncle called Orimono was a very high-ranking member of the Isawa family. His involvement, if made common knowledge, could have damaged that family’s reputation beyond repair.”


“Who was he?” breathed Bairei. “I must know.”


Jotaro told him; the answer was everything he feared.



“There is one further matter we must discuss,” Shiba Ningen said to his associates. The Council of elemental Masters held parley at least once every month. In recent times, they had found the need to meet far more often. The safety of the clan demanded it.


“What is it, Ningen?” asked Isawa Taeruko tersely. “I have no time for trivialities.”


“Unfortunately, I suspect this is not a trivial matter,” the Master of the Void replied. “One of the Asako librarians has requested an audience with us. His name is Bairei. Normally, we would dismiss his request out of hand, but I feel that it is important we meet with him. The Void speaks through me.”


“May the Fortunes spare us from pretentious Ishiken,” muttered Taeruko.


“Enough,” said Isawa Hochiu finally. “Admit him Ningen. Let us make this as quick as possible.”


Ningen nodded and waved absently toward the large stone doors that sealed the chamber from the lower levels of Kyuden Isawa. The doors swung open easily, revealing Bairei’s small, hunched figure. “Enter, Asako Bairei,” commanded Ningen. “State your purpose swiftly.”


Bairei bowed very deeply. “Honored Masters, the rumors of Fu Leng’s return to Tengoku have upset the members of my family very greatly. We believe that this crisis may change the Celestial Order as we mortals understand it if the Lost Brother is not stopped.”


“Brilliant,” said Taeruko. “Did you discover that in the library?”


“At first I could not specify why this troubled me so,” Bairei continued without acknowledging the Master of Earth’s insult. “In time, however, I realized that it was my admittedly limited knowledge of the former moon god, Onnotangu. The possibility of another such celestial entity tormenting the Empire was extremely disconcerting.”


“Your insight is nothing we have not already considered,” said Hochiu tersely. “If that is your only concern. . .”


“I am afraid it is more complex than that, Hochiu-sama. My concern has caused me to delve into many ancient theological texts. I believe that the security we all feel in the stability of the new Lady Moon is a false one.”


“You are making no sense, scholar.” Ningen’s tone was very stern, reprimanding.


“The Moon and Sun are equal and opposite,” began Bairei. “Their power stands in opposition to one another, just as yin and yang are balanced. The Sun is order, law, and honor. The Moon is chaos, madness, and discord. One need look no farther than the Hitomi order to see the reflection of what Hitomi has become as Lady Moon.”


Hochiu frowned. “What are you saying?”


“I am saying, honored masters, that the power that Hitomi has gained can and will corrupt her. She will become just as Onnotangu was before her, a threat to the Empire. If we allow this to happen, then she could conceivably side with Fu Leng and throw the Celestial Heavens into complete chaos. Fu Leng could emerge victorious in Tengoku, with Hitomi sitting at his side. However,” Bairei glanced around at each of the masters, “if we can protect her from becoming corrupted, she will be our most powerful ally against the Ninth Kami.”


Ningen returned Hochiu’s frown. “Even if what you are suggesting is possible, how would mortals hope to affect the happenings of the Celestial Heavens? Such a thing is even beyond the power of this Council.”


“I believe otherwise, Ningen-sama.” Bairei laid several scrolls on the Council’s large stone table. “I have discovered several accounts of so called ‘moon cultists.’ During the reign of Onnotangu, such groups were rare, but not unheard of. The cultists supposedly possess bizarre mystical abilities that cannot be attributed to conventional shugenja spells. I believe that Onnotangu could hear and answer his followers in a very direct manner. I believe that the moon god’s power is connected to the mortal realm in a way we do not yet understand. One must look only to the Hitomi family, to incidences of her followers spontaneously developing the tattoos of the kikage zumi, to see the truth in this.”


Understanding dawned in Taeruko’s eyes. “And you believe that if the Phoenix worship Lady Moon using the rituals of the moon cult that we can prevent her from succumbing to the power she now wields?”


“I do,” said Bairei.


“Why not allow the Dragon to deal with this?” Hochiu snapped. “She is one of their own.”


Bairei bowed his head respectfully. “I was under the impression that the Phoenix Clan held domain over all matters of theological and mystical importance. To put it simply, I do not believe this is a problem the Dragon can solve.”


Hochiu smirked suddenly. “Well said.”


“I do not approve of this,” Taeruko said. “The Cult of the Moon was a bloodthirsty, violent organization. Their rituals will lead us to corruption and madness.”


“Naturally we must modify the rituals,” Bairei said. Many of them involved unsavory acts of sacrifice that I believe would do little to calm Hitomi’s tormented soul.”


“Madness,” Taeruko said. “I will not allow it. You walk a dangerous path, Asako. The Inquisitors must be informed of this.”


“Then I shall make them aware of all of my research,” Bairei said, drawing up his courage and staring down the Master of Earth without fear. “Including the tale of Isawa Muchito, otherwise known as Isawa Orimono.”


“I know that name,” said Ningen.


“Yes,” Hochiu said quietly. “He was my uncle.”


Bairei bowed his head respectfully to the Master of Fire. “I wish no shame upon your house, Isawa-sama, but should the Inquisitors interfere with my efforts to save Hitomi’s soul, I would be obligated by the oaths I swore at my gempukku to correct this oversight in the historical records of our clan.”


Hochiu raised an eyebrow. “But if your duties to this shrine you hope to build keep you otherwise occupied...”


“As a Phoenix, my first duty is to the Celestial Order,” Bairei said.


“I do not believe this,” Taeruko snarled. “Hochiu, do you plan to allow this Asako to blackmail you so blatantly?”


Hochiu shrugged. “And why not?” Hochiu said. “He conducted his research with wisdom and cunning, and I find that his leverage makes it easier for me to agree with his argument, which I already found quite persuasive.” He waved dismissively toward the scholar. “You have our thanks for brining this matter to our attention, Bairei. You have my permission to pursue this matter, but do so with caution.”


“One moment, Hochiu,” Ningen added, “While this sounds logical, I have a further requirement for this shrine. Those members of the Hitomi family who wish to enter without violence must be allowed access.”


Taeruko and Hochiu both looked at the Master of the Void in shock.


“The Dragon?” laughed Taeruko. “You would allow our most vicious enemies into our very homes? I think not.”


“I am willing to accept the risk,” Bairei said quickly. “I think their insight would make our duties easier, and perhaps present an opportunity for peace with the Dragon.”


“Small chance of that,” Hochiu said. “Nonetheless, your mistakes are your own to make. I wish you well, Bairei. Inform our builders of what materials you require. Place this shrine in the Asako provinces, close to Dragon lands. That way if the Hitomi prove impossible to control at least they will not harm anything important.”


“I am humbled by your generosity, Masters.” Bairei bowed deeply. “I thank you for your time.”


“Be certain that if you draw our attention again that we approve of what you say, Asako Bairei,” Taeruko added as the scholar turned to leave. “You will not find me a forgiving sort.”


“Of course, Taeruko-sama,” he said. “I shall not trouble you again.” With that, the solitary scholar disappeared down the corridor and into the darkened hallways of Kyuden Isawa.