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Chapter LVIII : Kenju
Midday of Quartus, Twelfth Day of Autumnmoon
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Quon Nan made his way up the eastern slopes of Mount Abakai with his elite squad of Kenju Warriors. He and his men left Loulan the prior morn, riding atop viscars to hasten the journey. It took three days for well-trained men to march the same distance, but with these majestic mounts, it only took one.
Quon was a master of the Kenju martial arts: lean, agile, and dexterous. His skin was the color of wheat, and his hair was cut in the style of a queue, with the front side shaved, and the back grown out and braided.
Kenju were the pride of Koba. Fearless and loyal, they were the nation’s vanguard, responsible for addressing any and all security concerns. Mount Abakai was supposed to be off limits to the Angkorian military. So when news broke that a Gnostic Knight had been sighted, Emperor Zhao Peng sent his Kenju Master on a journey to gather intelligence.
Koba and Angkor had a complicated history. After The War, Richard demanded a military presence along the border to deter immigration. Koba had limited room for negotiation, but Zhao Peng argued that border security needn’t involve a presence to the north, especially on lands that Kobans regarded as sacred. Since Richard had no practical reason to demand more, he accepted the change in terms, and many Kobans guarded it as one the few freedoms they had left.
The presence of a Gnostic Knight was an egregious contravention of the agreement, but one which required explicit confirmation before the issue could be resolved. In truth, Quon expected a routine mission. If the Knight existed at all, he expected him to offer a weak excuse, at which point Quon would submit a written report to Zhao Peng. The emperor would then send a messenger to question the Angkorian diplomat, who would send word to Richard’s foreign affairs administrators, and the entire bureaucratic process would take weeks to churn out a pointless resolution.
Even so, it was Quon’s duty, and he took it seriously. He took pride in his work and was always thorough. Many regarded him as stalwart and dependable. His penchant for perfection came from a staunchly traditional Koban upbringing. His pious and conservative father raised him to focus on work and productivity, rather than leisure. Wong Fei Nan was Kenju Master during The War, until he lost his life at Dobb’s Plain. Quon later assumed his father’s role, honoring the skills he had honed since childhood. The job was the second most important thing in his life. The first was his wife.
Katharina was the daughter of a Kitezhian farmer and a victim of an Angkorian raid on her village. At the time, Quon was a Kenju Warrior-in-training. During one of his exercises on the Kitezhian side of the border, he noticed smoke rising in the distance. Katharina’s family farm had been set ablaze, and she was trapped inside the barn. Luckily, Quon arrived in time to rescue her from the wreckage.
Initially, he didn’t think much of it. But in the months the followed, he ran into her again in Loulan. Apparently, she and many other displaced Kitezhians marched east into Koba looking for relief. Kitezh was in turmoil, and many of its provinces were overburdened and unable to provide aid. She journeyed through several settlements along the way, until finally ending her journey in Koba’s capital.
She recognized Quon while he was training outside the Kenju temple. He invited her to join him for lunch and soon realized that she was different from the modest and demure women so commonplace in Koba. Most Koban relationships were arranged between families of similar class and stature, but Katarina was refreshingly outgoing and liberal, full of new ideas and challenges to the status quo. Despite his conservative upbringing, Quon was smitten. They wed several months later, an interracial rarity for a culture steeped in old traditions. Quon and Katharina set a new standard, and due to Quon’s visibility as Kenju Master, it was an example for the entire country.
He couldn’t stop thinking of his wife, when he noticed a fresh set of tracks. He pushed his thoughts aside as he bent over to examine them. They matched the treaded boots of Angkorian soldiers, and from their count and position, he estimated a half-dozen men. Apparently, they had lingered there for days.
He felt uneasy. The tracks proved that Angkorians were close, but their reasons for being there were still a mystery. Gnostic Knights were usually up to no good. Richard only sent them on highly strategic missions. But Quon wasn’t aware of anything on Mount Abakai that warranted his interest. Other than its history and meaning to the Koban people, it was just another mound of earth. Quite unassuming for Angkor to risk violating its own treaties.
To his rear, he heard a faint clicking sound, which he recognized as the chamber of a Kitezhian firearm sliding into place. He spun around to face a group of Angkorian soldiers as they revealed themselves from behind an outcropping of rocks. He wasn’t surprised to see them, but he didn’t expect them to brandish their weapons during peacetimes. Especially not Kitezhian weapons. It was already a declaration of war. They surrounded him and his men on all sides.
He faced his aggressors, showing no fear. Under his sleeve, he prepared a weapon of his own design, a set of razor blades attached to each of his hand’s four prominent fingers. He called it the tigerpaw. They were safely sheathed, but with the right flick of the wrist, he could release them via an internal mechanism. The design was dependable, rigid, and capable of clawing through tough leather. If left with no choice, he would pounce on the nearest soldier, then move to as many others as he could. His other Kenju gathered around him, standing back-to-back.
“I demand you lower your weapons!” he shouted. “I’ll give you a chance to leave now, and you’ll have my word that we’ll avoid an act of war. Anything else will lead to dire consequences.”
A Gnostic emerged from a nook behind the rocks, wearing the telltale horned helm. The man chuckled. “There won’t be war, if no one’s alive to speak of the battle.”
Quon’s heart sank. He and his men could easily face the lower-ranked soldiers—even with their stolen Kitezhian weapons. But a Gnostic was far more fearsome.
The Knight strutted over confidently. “Answer my questions truthfully, and I promise a painless death.”
Quon watched the Knight, waiting for his opportunity to strike.
The devilish helm spoke. “First question: Who else knows we’re here?”
Quon held his tigerpaw ready. He felt confident he could catch the Knight off guard and take him by surprise. It would give his men a chance to finish off the grunts. He stared at the Angkorian embodiment of Death without flinching.
“Insolence will not be tolerated!” the Gnostic bellowed. “Answer!”
Quon pressed his lips together, forcing calm, steady breaths. He would not be intimidated. The moment to strike was nigh.
The Knight turned to his troops, his voice seething. “Very well. Kill them, but leave one survivor to interrogate later.”
The Angkorians raised their firearms. Quon took a deep breath, ready to leap, when a disembodied voice spoke.
“Lower your weapons!”
Quon saw nothing, until out of thin air, a second Gnostic Knight stepped into the clearing. The mystery man didn’t wear a horned helm. Quon didn’t recognize him, but the Angkorians certainly did.
The first Knight removed his own helm and broke into hearty laughter. “Bram Morrison … you do turn up in the strangest places. I figured the rumors of your death were unfounded.”
Bram regarded the Knight as if he knew him well. “Victor … it’s stranger still seeing you here. I regret we couldn’t have met under better circumstances. But I’m afraid I’ll need to ask that you to leave these Koban warriors in peace.”
Victor’s smile dissolved, and he bared his teeth. “So, it’s true! You are working with the enemy!”
Bram held his ground. “The War’s over, Victor! Koba has been a peaceful neighbor, yet you trespass on their land and attack without cause. Why did Richard send you here? Is this about the sunstone?”
Victor shrugged. “The king tells us what he wills. Unlike you, I possess the honor to obey. But traitorous dogs have no right to ask!”
Quon shifted his attention between the two men. He wondered why either Knight would risk his life to defend foreigners, much less stand against his own brethren. He had seen the work of Gnostics firsthand during the War, and their reputation for brutality was well earned. He had been lucky enough to escape encounters with them a few times before. But, sadly, his father had not.
Wong Fei Nan met his demise at Dobb’s Plain. Quon had made every effort to join the battle in time, but he never made it. According to rumor, his father faced two Gnostics at the same time, something Quon would not have wished on his worst enemy. The Knights cut his father’s body to pieces and placed his disfigured torso on display for the Koban forces to see. Quon’s own body shook, as he was trapped behind the muzzle of a firearm, while two Gnostic Knights argued over his fate. He only prayed that the one named Bram was truthful in wanting to provide aid.
Bram was not baited by Victor’s insults. He faced his former colleague with a level voice. “Tell your men to lower their weapons. Let us talk, and I promise that when you hear what I have to say, you’ll realize that we’re not enemies.”
Victor put his hand on his sword. “You know I answer to only one man, Bram. If you want to tell your story, return with me to Angkor and accept judgment for your crimes. But if, instead, you choose to duel with me, know that I have more than enough men to slaughter these Koban swine.”
Quon gritted his teeth, but he kept his cool. It was better to wait and see how things played out. To his surprise, Bram pressed forward confidently.
“You’re sure about that, Victor?” He gave a hand signal, and six Kitezhians appeared, seemingly out of the same veil of magic. Each of them stood behind an Angkorian, swords hovering a finger's breadth from their throats. Bram drew his own blade, holding it within striking distance of Victor’s exposed neck.
Quon was awestruck. It was already unusual to see a Gnostic Knight willing to stand against his own kind, but far stranger to see him allied with Kitezhians!
Victor spat at Bram’s feet. “Leading Kitezhian curs, now? You’re both a traitor and a disgrace, Morrison!”
Bram sheathed his blade. “Enough! No one needs to die today. King Richard is not of sound mind. He’s been manipulated by demonic forces, and his scheme will put all of Angkor in danger. I know your honor is to your country and its people first, Victor—not just to Cromwell. Hear me out, at least!”
Surprisingly, Victor looked torn. He held back his retort, looking genuinely impacted by Bram’s words. He was about to speak, when something strange and horrid came over him. Quon watched as a blue film covered the Knight’s eyes. His muscles went limp, only to spring back up, as if pulled by puppet strings.
Bram stepped back in horror. “Victor? What wizardry is this?”
Victor laughed maniacally, with a voice that was not his own. “You’re a fool to expose yourself, Morrison! Now the Ahrimen know where you are. You’ll never escape their wrath!”
Quon understood little of the Knight’s rant, but he was certain rogue magic was involved. He noticed something else. The Knight reached inside a pouch at his waist and retrieved a set of orbs that looked like marbles.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Bram brought his sword back to within striking distance. He looked terrified. “Where did you get those?”
Bram’s sudden fear put his Kitezhian allies at unease. They shifted on their feet, looking nervous.
The blue-eyed Victor taunted. “Oh, these? Just a sample of the Ahriman’s power. Woe be to those who are unprepared to face them.”
“Get rid of them!” Bram growled, teasing his sword at Victor’s neck. “Place them gently on the rock, there, and back away. Do it slow, or I’ll run you through.”
Victor laughed, even as he followed Bram’s instructions. Just as he backed away from the rock, he ended with an ominous quip. “Based on what I was told, you encountered demonspawn once before. Although, I’m surprised you didn’t learn then that they have a mind of their own and need no activation from me ….”
Quon turned his attention to the marbles on the rock. They glowed with a deep yet unnatural orange light, which bathed the surrounding mountainside. Quon’s hands went to his ears to protect them from an ear-piercing, high-pitched shriek. An Angkorian soldier fired a shot, and pandemonium ensued.
In the midst of the chaos, Quon and his Kenju attacked the Angkorians. The enemy shot their firearms, but they weren’t quick enough to land any direct hits. They cast the weapons aside, now useless given the time needed to reload. As they reached for their swords, the Kenju overwhelmed them. It took only seconds for the exchange of blows to happen. Quon saw three of his men and two of the Kitezhians motionless on the ground, seemingly dead. But at least they succeeded in defeating all of the Angkorian troops, save for one.
Quon shifted his gaze to Victor, who was locked in battle with Bram. The Kenju Master was eager for vengeance for his fallen comrades. Rogue magic or not, the Knight would receive no mercy. Quon intended to leap into the fray, when a hideous, gray-skinned, humanoid monster blocked his path. It hovered above the ground, lifted with insect wings sprouting from its back. Its eyes were glowing embers, and flames spewed from its nose and mouth. Quon dodged to the side and skidded to a halt. He just barely avoided a swipe from the beast’s insect-like claw.
It must have been the demonspawn the Knight referred to earlier. He readied his tigerpaw and pounced back. With the agility of a wildcat, he struck the creature’s chest and twisted. He was ready to wrench his blades free when the creature’s body turned to ash and scattered in the wind. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened.
Nearby, Bram struck a decisive blow, knocking Victor’s blade from his hands. The possessed Knight was caught off balance, and he didn’t seem aware that another demonspawn approached from his flank. He turned his head, but had no time to react. The monster swiped its claw across Victor’s face, cutting deep into the flesh. He fell to the ground, coated with blood. Bram responded quickly, driving his Gnostic sword into the creature’s side. Just like the first one, its body turned to ash and crumbled in the wind.
Quon couldn’t be sure if Bram was friend or foe, and he wasn’t willing to take any chances. He threw his body into the Knight, knocking him off his feet. The two warriors rolled along the ground until the Kenju Master landed on top, tigerpaw aimed at Bram’s face.
“Who are you?” Quon demanded. “And what are those creatures? Answer me!”
“I’m on your side!” Bram yelled back. “We’re both vulnerable right now, so either let me go or we’ll both fall victim to the demonspawn. They won’t wait for you to decide!”
The urgency in the Knight’s voice sounded genuine. Quon trusted his instincts and helped Bram to his feet. “What in Gaia’s name is going on?”
“Answers later,” Bram insisted. “Right now, we have to destroy those orbs, or they’ll keep on producing more creatures!”
“Bram, are you hurt?” A female voice called out, and a beautiful young woman materialized at the Knight’s side. She was dressed in heavy Kitezhian furs, but with the dark skin of a Maldenese woman. She began chanting, and Quon felt his wrists being pulled. He realized the woman was a sorceress, and she was binding his hands behind his back.
Bram intervened by placing his hand gently on the woman’s arm. “Rosa, don’t. He’s on our side. Where’s Yuri? Are they still safe with King Brandt?”
Quon was overwhelmed. “King Brandt is here?”
“Behind you!” Bram shouted.
Quon sidestepped another attack from the so-called demonspawn, cursing himself for getting distracted. The Knight and Sorceress combined forces to attack four of the creatures at once. Her magic kept them at bay, while his sword sliced them to ash. Quon took on two more, using his grace and agility to remain out of reach of their long, insect-like appendages.
It all happened so quickly, Quon couldn’t keep track. The whole area swarmed with demonspawn, many of them buzzing and flying through the air. Smoldering embers dropped from their bodies, igniting the brush below. Smoke filled the air. It was insanity.
Bram coughed and brought an arm to his mouth. “Rosa, we need to destroy those orbs.”
The orbs glowed the color of molten lava. She reached out, but quickly recoiled. “They’re emitting incredible amounts of red manna. Don’t get too close, or you’ll get burned.”
More of the insect-like creatures formed from the orbs, faster than they could be destroyed. Both Kenju and Kitezhians engaged in battle. A suffocating film of smoke and ash permeated the clearing. Quon couldn’t believe his eyes and didn’t know which of the threats to deal with first.
Bram lunged toward the orbs, hacking at the creatures as they materialized. But he couldn’t reach them before a jet of flame belched in his direction.
He cursed between coughs. “You’re right, Rosa. I can’t get close. Do you have any ideas?”
She reached out again, this time using a magical gale force wind to push back the smoke and demonspawn. Yet the orbs resisted and fired back with a fountain of flames and sparks.
“Watch out!” A shield of white light materialized to deflect a ball of fire that nearly struck her and Bram. She was knocked back, but Bram caught her in his arms.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She choked as a thick layer of smoke billowed in their direction.
Quon coughed as well, but something caught his attention.
He pointed with one of his tigerpaw blades. “Look, there!”
A child emerged from the woods at the edge of the clearing and slowly made their way through the chaos.
Bram and Rosa almost stumbled as they tried to race toward the child.
“Yuri!” Rosa gagged and doubled over.
Quon put a sleeve to his mouth, but his lungs were already coated in soot.
He sank to his knees, unable to do anything other than watch. Yet the child pressed onward, undeterred by the noxious fumes. They raised their arms and chanted. The demonspawn clawed at them, but an invisible barrier kept them at bay. Meanwhile, a stiff breeze offered sweet relief from the smoke.
Rosa hacked out words of warning. “Yuri is … summoning … another aeon! Take cover!”
Quon looked over his shoulder. Through the haze of smoke and ash, a wraithy figure hovered in the air, larger than a hillside. It looked like a balloon, except for dozens of pairs of white, feathery wings that flapped and kept it afloat. Many of these were small relative to the size of the body, but three larger pairs of wings spread out so far, it covered a third of the sky.
It was some kind of living creature; there was no doubt. As the smoke cleared, he saw it was made of white, leathery flesh. He felt chills as the spherical creature opened, revealing a mouth as wide as its entire body. The mouth grew, and the creature expanded, until its great maw opened thrice wider than its entire size.
“Sir!” The woman named Rosa flagged to get his attention. “Take cover. Now! And warn your friends.”
Quon snapped out of his trance and shouted orders to his men. “Kenju! Take cover!”
Kenju and Kitezhians tripped over themselves as they dove behind rocks and hugged the ground. Quon did the same, and not a moment too soon. A roaring gale tore through the clearing and increased in intensity with each passing moment. The smoke and soot cleared instantly, giving him a chance to peek around the stone’s corner. He glimpsed the creature, and realized it was inhaling. Wind wasn’t blowing through the clearing. It was getting sucked into the creature’s mouth!
Anything airborne was caught in an inescapable vortex, including the demonspawn. They tried to fly against the suction, but they were pulled inexorably toward the creature. Some of them still clawed at the child, but it didn’t stop the small scholar from chanting its spell and weaving their arms and legs in a graceful dance. Their golden hue gained in strength and intensity, outshining even the hideous orange glow of the orbs, growing until it outshined the sun itself. A celestial beacon of pure light!
Anything not firmly anchored to the ground flew upward toward the creature. Even the orbs, which initially appeared resistant to the suction, now appeared to rattle and shake. Then they, too, were sucked from their place on the rock. They flickered and crackled as they flew through the air, sending out a firework display of flashing lights. Every one of the demonspawn disappeared inside the creature’s mouth. And when they were gone, the mouth closed, and the creature slowly faded away.
When it was gone, the wind disappeared, and the clearing was at peace. The child emerged without a scratch, wearing a look of satisfaction.
Bram and Rosa ran over, like worried parents. Bram scooped the child into his arms and hugged them tightly.
“Yuri, thank Gaia you’re safe!”
Quon was relieved beyond words. It felt like a bad dream, and he could tell by the dumbfounded expressions from both his Kenju and the Kitezhians alike that they had all witnessed the same thing. Their eyes fell on Bram and the miracle child, yet the Knight seemed at a loss for words.
Just then, a teenage boy entered the clearing, one whom Quon had not yet seen on the battlefield. He projected his voice loudly.
“My fellow Kobans and Kitezhians, I am Józef Brandt, son of the late king, Henrich Brandt.”
His words drew gasps from the other Kenju. Quon finally recognized him as the boy-prince of Kitezh. He had heard rumors that Rungholt had been attacked, but the boy’s words confirmed his father’s death.
The heir continued. “Some of you might not yet have heard of Rungholt’s demise, but I have come today bearing witness to the deaths of my kinsmen. At the heart of these attacks, Angkor seeks the sunstones of legend. They are not mere baubles, but rather powerful artifacts that act as prisons to the demons known as the Ahrimen. The creatures you faced were their demonspawn.”
Murmurs erupted among the Kenju, some of which questioned the credibility of these outlandish claims. As their leader, Quon felt the need to step in.
“I ask my Kenju to listen as the heir of Kitezh speaks!”
His men fell in line instantly. He directed his next words to the boy-king. “I am Quon Nan, Your Majesty. Kenju Master of Koba. As you can imagine, it is difficult for any sane man to believe in creatures that come from legends and children’s tales. Yet we witnessed them firsthand and can no longer doubt. We owe you our lives. These demonspawn would have been unstoppable without the intervention of magic and creatures that are beyond my comprehension. If what you say is true, then Angkor seeks to direct these powers against our homeland. How are we to defend ourselves?”
The heir exuded confidence. “We come as allies, Master Nan. We’ve come all the way from Kitezh, because we believe your emperor, a Sunstone Protector, has knowledge passed down from an ancient enchantment.”
Quon was shocked. Zhao Peng was more than just his emperor. He was also a personal friend, yet he had never mentioned anything extraordinary about the sunstones. Quon explained this, but Józef seemed confident.
“Master Nan, the enchantment is known as Transiens Veritas, and it precludes your emperor from divulging knowledge of the sunstones. But now, he will no longer be alone. Long ago, the Ahrimen were defeated and imprisoned inside the sunstones. It’s time we rediscover that knowledge and put it to use once more.”
Józef gestured to the Gnostic Knight, the sorceress, and the miracle child. “Take these friends of Kitezh. They came with us, not as harbingers of fear, but as heralds of hope. They have proven that help can come from outside our two nations, and I believe others will join. Together, we can face our common enemy and stop them before the Ahrimen fully escape their prisons.”
Quon looked around, and saw the heir’s words had found support among his Kenju. He stepped forward to offer his own. “Your speech inspires us, King Brandt, and we welcome your assistance. I cannot speak for our emperor, but I can take you to him, so that he hears your story. I’m eager to hear your tale, as well. But, before we go, I’d like to request some aid for my injured men.”
King Brandt motioned to his sorcerers. It was too late for two of Quon’s Kenju, who perished in the attack, but the others had healable wounds, including both Kitezhians. As for the Angkorians, they were all dead, save for one.
Rosa approached Victor, who still lay crumpled on the ground. He stirred, which prompted Bram to rush to her side.
“Hold back, Rosie,” he warned. “We don’t know if he’s still being controlled.”
Rosa backed away and allowed Bram to tend to his former colleague. He bent over and flipped the Knight to his side, brushing away the dirt clogging his nose and mouth.
Victor struggled to speak. “Abraham … forgive me ….”
Bram looked sympathetic. “What happened to you? I saw when that curse came over you. Was that from the Ahriman?”
Victor coughed out specks of blood. “The blue smoke … don’t … breathe it.”
“What blue smoke?” Bram shook the Knight. “Tell me!”
Rosa knelt at Bram’s side. “Step aside so I can heal him.”
Bram gave her room, but as soon as he moved, the Knight convulsed. His Gnostic armor clattered, echoing off the craggy rocks of the clearing.
Bram grabbed the Knight firmly, trying to hold him still. “Victor, tell me why you came here! What did Richard ask of you?”
Victor twitched violently, his jaw firmly clenched. Rosa’s hands made the movements of a healing spell, but even Quon knew it was futile. Victor's eyes rolled in the back of his head, and his face contorted in pain. His lips formed shaky syllables, and a final breath gave life to a single word.
“Moon … stone.” With that, he was dead.
Bram backed up slowly, his face pale. He faced Rosa. “What happened?”
She expelled a pent up breath. “It was like something just … wrenched the life from his body.”
Bram lowered his head. “Moonstone, huh? Did you ever run into that term while researching the sunstones?”
He looked over and saw her eyes go wide with shock. “Rosa? What is it?”
She held up a hand. “I’m fine. I’ve never heard of these moonstones, but I was fixed on something else.”
He looked worried. “What do you mean?”
“About Victor’s death.” She reached down and touched his armor. “There’s no signature. Something of magical nature killed him, but … I should have sensed it.”
“She speaks the truth,” one of Józef’s sorcerers confirmed. “The Gnostic died of a magical ailment, but it was undetectable.”
Bram clenched his fist. “Virgil!” He uttered the name like a curse.
Rosa nodded. “Yes, similar in some ways to the magical toxin that almost killed me. And I shudder to think what might have happened if you hadn’t found a cure. One thing’s clear. This man had something to say. Whatever it was, we weren’t supposed to hear.”
Quon sensed the anger and frustration brewing inside of Bram. It was time for him to interject. “Bram, Rosa … clearly you have faced many enemies. Please, tell me your story.”
The Knight paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Indeed, Master Nan. You deserve to know the truth. We will tell you and your Kenju Warriors everything.”
Quon nodded. He had a feeling that everything he knew or thought he knew was about to change.