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“Always disliked the air in this part of Hitori.” Blu sighed as he emptied the ashy contents of his pipe and slowly slid it back into his duster pocket. His sleepless blue eyes scanned the port as he stepped off the trading ship that taxied him from Rosetta’s shipping yard to the small port of Nobuharu. A seven-day trip and with a crew that cared little for hygiene at that, Blu was set on finding an inn first before even thinking about venturing out.

Pulling down his wide-brimmed hat to shelter his gaze, he walked off the dock and into the busy streets of the market. The stench of fish had been bad enough, but the glares people gave him for the color of his skin as-well to be expected now that he thought about it. Being a foot taller than most around him and Caucasian skin was something most there had not witnessed since the war ended. Only natives to Hitori were welcome here, it seemed. Shrugging this off, he stepped into a local pub which was oddly empty, especially during this time of the day. This raised curiosity, but he simply smiled at the woman behind the bar.

“Afternoon.” He greeted her as he removed the rifle strapped to his back and set it by the door. His toothy smile, however, was not returned. The woman simply looked up at him, frowned, and continued with her bar duties. Taking a seat at the stool closest to the barkeep, he loudly cleared his throat and pulled off his hat, setting it down on the bar in front of him. “Right...” he tied his long grey hair up and brushed what strays he had out of his eyes as he first examined the alcohol on the shelf and then to the woman who was now staring at him with the fakest smile she could muster.

“Welcome. Can I get you anything?” She said with disinterest in her voice as she set down a freshly polished glass in front of him and rested her palms on her hips. “Before you ask, we don’t serve mead or any of that trash your folk drink overseas.”

Blu’s smile retracted to that of a frown, “I enjoy that trash. But thankfully for us both, I’m not here to drink.”

With a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow, she asked, “Oh? From your attire and the led thrower you left by the door, I was assuming you were a pirate.”

Blu laughed and in a flash, he shot up and slammed his fists on the bar, “Let me clear somethin’ up for you, little miss. Pirates do not leave their guns at the door. Gentlemen do. I am, after all-“ Collecting himself, he adjusted the collar of his undershirt and smiled once more, sitting back down on his stool, “-a gentleman and I would appreciate being treated. May I add a gentleman with a visa to this land sent directly from emperor shit for brains himself?”

“Do not disrespect our-“

He raised his gloved hand to her and shook his head, “Gettin off track.” She blinked a few times and shut her mouth as he tapped his index finger on the bar and grinned. “I require two things. A bed and some information about a tiny village not too far from here that burned down about eight or nine years ago. Ringing a bell?” The woman shifted her gaze to the floor and turned around.

“Shukaku. Yes?”

“That’s the one.”

She grabbed a bottle from the top shelf and uncorked it, grabbing another glass from the bar she set it in front of his and poured them both a drink.

“Oh, we’re being friendly now are we.” She stopped pouring and pushed his now full glass to him. With a wink, he picked it up and quickly finished the full glass as if he had tasted no form of drink in years. Wiping his lips with the sleeve of his duster, he motioned her with his free hand to get on with it.

“It’s more for me than you.” She followed with a long swig and set her now half-filled glass on the bar. “Speaking of that night is considered the highest taboo in these parts. But if telling you what you want to know will get you out of my face quicker, then so be it.”

“Charming. So, I’m not getting a bed here am I...” He sighed.

“Equivalent exchange.” She lowered her head and looked at the bar.

“Neat. So then?”

“My son was a guard. I say was because two days after finding the remains of that damned village, he ended his life. Whatever he had seen gave him enough reason to commit pain upon his entire family.”

“Apologies...” Blu replied.

“They were dispatched when the local Guard Captain caught word of a village being attacked. Nine men in total, including my boy, Sho. They arrived on horseback expecting to find something, anything. But not even the cattle had survived. The villagers were gathered in the center and burned to death. Soon that fire traveled to the houses, barns, even the stables. But stopped right at the village borders. Magic perhaps.”

Blu ran his fingertips around the rim of his glass as he studied her face, “Hate to break it to you but magic is a dead art. Most casters were killed in the war. Besides, most are native of the south and north I have never heard of an eastern mage.”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “A ritual then? I am not sure. The way he explained how the bodies were found... it was enough to drive him to do the unthinkable.”

“Boy never saw war, I am guessing. Death is not for a weak belly. But again, apologies. No mother should have to bury her son.”

She was sobbing, and Blu knew he had overstayed his welcome. Although this information would help prepare him for whatever he was going to find out there. But for starters, he needed rest. With a bow of his head, he picked up his hat and rested it on his head, pushing in his chair after getting up. He looked back over his shoulder to get another look at the crying woman and with a frown; he grabbed his rifle and strapped it to his back once more, where it so usually rested on these sorts of outings. “Take care now.” Shutting the door behind him, he looked up at the sky, now grey and ready to shower the local rice fields. The stench of fish becoming ever more potent as the moisture of the wet air kissed its flesh.

It was early. The sun wasn’t even up when Blu awoke from the short uncomfortable sleep he got from a bed of hay in a stable far more filthy than he was used to. His left hand fiddled with his freshly lit pipe while his right patted off what leftover hay lived on his duster. Squinting his tired eyes, he took a deep drag and exhaled smoke in the crisp morning air, “Better get a move on if I want to get there before sundown.”

First, he checked his rifle. Operational to his standards. His attention was then brought to the belt around his chest housing a little over a dozen silver shells. He did not expect to find anything hostile in the village. But his days as a marine taught him to always be prepared. Though he was not old enough to be a participant of the prior war, he had his fair share of fights with pirates and raiders. Best to be armed to the teeth without firing a single shot than to be shot at while only armed with teeth. Biting a man only gets you so far. He chuckled at this thought as he exited the stable and made his way to the port gates.

Nodding to tired guards, he began his journey to Shukaku, occasionally stopping for a much-needed smoke break or if nature called. To his surprise, as quickly as the rain arrived the prior day, it had all but cleared up. The air still smelled wet, and his boots left a decent impression on the dirt road beneath his feet. But it was a rather charming walk. Putting the fishy air aside and the rude stares of Hitori was a beautiful land. The cherry blossoms were just blooming. A sight he had only seen twice in his first tour in the marines.

Before that village was set ablaze and the murders started, Hitori was a little more welcoming to travelers. A lot of their business came from sailors, soldiers, your occasional trader, and so on. But those were calmer days, Blu supposed. Back then pirates were a big issue, but the north policed the sea the best it could, as did the south. But as time passed and bodies began piling up in major cities, honored guests were a thing of the past. But it all led back to here. At least the reports did. Children were the first to go missing. To be exact young girls around the age of ten. All later found hanging from a tree with their chest cavity fully exposed for whoever was unfortunate enough to find them. Single children turned in to entire families. Small families to small villages. A perfect line from Shukaku to the very port his feet greeted less than twenty-four hours ago. That line soon made its way to his adopted home of Rosetta. Though he did pride himself on living in the outskirts of the capital, away from the busy city life, he still considered himself some form of a citizen.

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“Excuse me.”

Blu halted and looked around, “That voice. God, is that you?”

“Down here.”

Blu looked down and frowned, “Aren’t you a little short to be a god. Anyway, I have a bone to pick with you. That time my house set fire. Not okay. No one told me that stuff was flammable.”

“What?!” The timid voice of the small native girl who stood in front of him squeaked as she took a step back, hugging herself.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else.” He scratched his chin and smiled. “You need something, little one? I don’t mean to sound rude, but I need to be somewhere.”

She looked him up and down for a moment but then quickly bowed, “I’m sorry! It is just that I am lost. Please, help me get home? Papa is probably really mad, and my sister must be so scared for me!”

The little girl was dirty, her dress was torn, and Blu noticed a few cuts on her knees and face. The shiny golden clip that held her hair up had to have been stressed, as he could tell she got snagged on a few branches before she found him. He thought maybe she had fallen into some ditch and gotten lost. But then he shifted his attention to the fact that this girl’s parents lost track of her. She could not be any older than eight or nine. “Ah. I see.”, he rested the palm of his hand on her head and smiled. “Well, if you’re going my way, I don’t see an issue. Walking this long can get lonely, anyway. I hope you’re at the very least an excellent card player.”

A look of pure glee replaced her cautions demeanor, and she quickly hugged his leg. Blu hated kids. Plain and simple. They were dirty and costly. But they always liked him, and as a veteran, it was his duty to protect the weak over his current occupation. Chances are she would not last long out here. The east was notorious for its wildlife. He had even caught stories of small children being snatched up by wolves and whatever creepy crawlers lived in the forests.

“Got a name?” Blu asked as he stuffed tobacco into his pipe and pulled a match from the interior pocket of his duster.

She nodded as she skipped beside him, “Aura. It was my mother’s name.”

“Was? She not with us anymore?” Lighting the match, he hung it over the pipe and puffed, exhaling smoke on the side here and there. Finally lit, he waved the match out and flicked it over his shoulder.

“No. She passed away when I was really little.”

“You’re little now.”

“Yeah!” She shouted. “But I was much littler than!”

“Gotcha. But your dad and sister are still kicking.”

“No kicking. No. Dad hits a lot, though. But my big sister is always there to save me when he does.” She gave him a soft smile, then looked to the road.

“Noted. I will let him know that is not nice when we get to your place. Speaking of which, are ya from a village close by? I mean, it must be close. A little one like you couldn’t have wandered off too far.” She remained silent as Blu’s attention stayed on the road ahead of him as well. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out when things look familiar to you.”

She spoke up, “I’m sorry. I know the name. Shukaku. My village is Shukaku.”

Blu stopped dead in his tracks, “What did you just say?”

“Shukaku.” Her voice shifted to a deeper tone that could only belong to some form of a demon. “Shukaku. Shukaku. Shukaku. Shukaku. Shukaku. Shukaku. Shukaku!” The name of the village sent a deafening screech into his ears and he let out a yelp, falling to his knees. His pipe repelled from his grasp as he covered his ears with gritted teeth, small trails of blood dancing downward and onto his duster. But just as quickly Blu uncovered his ears and looked up, expecting to meet the beast that took the form of the little girl. But. She was gone and before him were several shacks and houses overtaken by the surrounding forest. Scorch marks and char kissed the very foundation of the buildings, and the air was dead cold. His breath seemed to trail up and vanish into the branches above. People died here, he thought. They don’t seem too happy either. Picking himself off the ground, his eyes examined the area. What had happened? Last thing he knew, he was on a dirt road with that girl. But now.

“Nope.” He turned around and adjusted his hat. “Fuck this.” As he walked, he remembered the hefty price the nobles offered him to take on the bounty. It was enough coin to retire and buy a ship. Five ships if he wanted. Putting aside that greedy thought, he also thought about her. Eve. Everything she and her family did for him after the military. One ship was enough. The rest would go to them. With a nod, he turned back around, “Alright haunted village you win. But I swear to god, gods, whoever. I swear I will come back with an absurd amount of gunpowder and turn this place into a crater. Then pee in it.” He shrugged heavily, sending his duster into a light flutter.

First thing was first. The center. The mass grave the barkeep had mentioned. That is where he needed to start. It was a short walk into the village and to its center. Only fifty people lived here. The size made that clear. But who could kill that many people? Was it indeed magic? Something far more sinister. Had to be. Blu took a knee at the center and ran his hand across the ashy dirt. He hummed to himself as his eyes followed upward from one skeletal corpse to another until finally; they stopped at the top.

“What do we have here?”

Carefully stepping over a few of the unfortunate victims, he came to a minor form wrapped in a dirty sheet. The fire had hardly touched it, to his surprise, and he unwrapped it. He briefly stopped and tilted his head, somewhat confused, “Couldn’t be.” He reached down and fidgeted around in the sheet for a moment. “Gotcha”, lifting it into the air and brushing it off with his free hand, he realized what he was holding was a small golden hair clip. The same one the girl from earlier wore. “Disturbing.” He stuffed the clip into his pocket and made his way back to the spot he kneeled in prior.

“Well, little ghost girl. Thanks for not tearing my head off and dragging me to the underworld. That would have put a strain on my retirement plan.” He chuckled to himself. Blu was keeping his composer. No sense in freaking out when no one was around. That and losing your cool in places like this make things far worse than they already are. But no, to answer your question he would not camp here. After he was done investigating, he was going to get as far away from this village as he could. Maybe he would come back and blow it up just to make sure? After getting done with the center, he went from house to house, not finding anything worth mentioning. A few old paintings, dusty or charred furniture, and the occasional mouse. But one house caught his attention. It was smaller than the others. Two bedrooms and what he could only assume was a kitchen. Mostly because there were a lot of cooking utensils than a massive hole for the entire village to see inside. Perhaps it collapsed over the years. However, this was not his drive to the smaller house. No, it was the painting on the far-off wall closest to the master bedroom.

“Lovely family.” He mumbled as four figures greeted his eyes on the wall. A young woman, most likely the mother. A heavier man with a toothy smile. But the other two, the children, their faces were torched. No way of making out who they were. But Blu noticed one thing. One child had a golden hair clip in their hair. “It’s you.” He rested his hand over the painting, “Thanks for showing me the way and sorry about earlier. I will not pee on your village. Blowing it up though is still on the table.” Mother, father, two children. One dead. But where was the other? She appeared a little taller. Most likely the eldest. But there was only one small corpse found. Not two. “Who are you?”

* * * * *

“Nothing special. Call it curiosity. One can get restless staying in the same place for too long.”

“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat? Well, fate has intertwined you and me. Here I am, a young single noble in the presence of a beautiful foreign girl. I would say luck is on my side this very night. Wouldn’t you, cat?”

She leaned forward and bit her lips, blush kissing her snow-white cheeks as her crimson orbs sparkled in the candlelight surrounding the inn, “As long as my curiosity doesn’t mean my end like it did the cat then I can happily say your night is going to end with this foreign girl in your arms. Just tread lightly. I’m a little feral.”

“I was always more of a dog person, but keep changing my mind.” He laughed, she joined him and they both toasted to the evening. “I am incredibly sorry though.”

Her eyes widened, “Huh? For what?”

“Oh well, it’s just I never caught your name. I kind of just made this place my own and joined you without a proper introduction. I am Morrison Dabell. Morris will do. You?”

“My name?” She thought for a moment as he eagerly waited for her exchange and even considered giving him an alias, but it was a formality seeing by the end of the night he would be stung up somewhere after she was done scavenging his insides for a trinket or two. She was a killer. A good one at that. Her first few murders, well, they were a rough start. But her war with man would continue.

All in the name of love, she supposed. She was older now. Nearly in her twenties. But it seemed like yesterday when she set fire to Shukaku. Drilling all those faces into her head was one of two drives, the other being her dear sister she had lost so tragically, of course. This was all for her. Three hundred? Four? She lost count of the lives she sent to her sister. But it was not enough. She would need to do this until either she was sick of it, which she knew she never would be, or if death graced her with his presence.

“You alright there? I didn’t realize asking you your name would be such a troublesome question.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She joyfully said as she waved her hands. “I was just thinking about home. My name is Black. Sorry, it is so informal I removed my family name due to, well, personal feuds. My father is a real hothead. But lately, he has been biting his tongue, which is a real improvement.”

“Well, Black. Let us drink ourselves dumb and make some mistakes tonight. Shall we? The bard here is supposed to be simply excellent.”

Her smile lightened, and she gave him a single nod, “Oh don’t worry, I’m not one to make mistakes.”