Gongs tolling over the capital from Buddhist monasteries announced the sunset and beginning of the Hour of the Rooster. In a dilapidated hut on the outskirts of the city, a man sat alone in the hut’s single room, empty except for two worn cushions on the cedar plank floor. He looked up and scowled. In sharp contrast to his youthful face, his hair was pure white. While an adolescent, he had considered it a curse—now he believed it a mark of divine favor, a portent of his inevitable greatness.

In his lap sat his shikiban, an omyoudou divination tool, a large round wooden device with the figures of the Chinese zodiac inscribed around the edges. A raised brass hemisphere marked with Taoist characters of power lay in the center.

Despite his evident frustration and impatience, he remained seated.

Finally, the door to the hut slid open. Backlit by the fading twilit sky, the newcomer’s unkempt, shoulder-length hair appeared as a dark, menacing aura around his head. Although less than average height, his broad shoulders filled the entryway. He made no sound as he entered the room and stood, entirely at ease.

“It is so good of you to deign to meet with me,” the seated man said acidly. “I have only been waiting here for two days.” He gestured at the empty cushion in front of him. “Sit down.” His cultured speech and carefully modulated diction marked him as a member of the nobility.

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The newcomer shrugged. “You said you had something for me. I came when I could. If that’s not good enough, feel free to find someone else.”

The nobleman curled his lip in a sneer at his guest’s harsh accent and boorish mannerisms. “Do you bother to think before you speak? I know the desire of your heart. Who, other than myself, could offer you a chance to possess her? If you do not do as I ask, I can find another way, and you will return to the forest empty-handed. Do we understand each other?”

The stocky man squatted down. He looked intently at his companion and, after a moment, gave a sharp nod. “If you can do what you claim, I’m interested.”

The white-haired noble leaned forward for emphasis. “The retired emperor’s health is failing. His death will set off a struggle for control of the Chrysanthemum Throne. This will provide an unparalleled opportunity for advancement, and I have been positioning myself for some time to take advantage of the ensuing chaos. However, my divinations show that a new player is about to join the game. My auguries and calculations indicate he may disrupt my plans. I cannot discern much about him yet, but I sense powerful magic associated with him. He is on his way to Kyoto. I want you to watch the approaches to the capital and sniff out anyone who displays the slightest aura of sorcery.”

“And if I find him?”

The nobleman looked at him steadily. “Kill him.”

His companion answered with a savage grin.

The gongs for evening prayer service rang out across the city of Kyoto.