Where the snow melted under the divine radiance of his celestial majesty, where the crops grew at the word of his benevolence, where the winds blew as he breathed. Where the skies bowed in obsequious reverence and the stars hung themselves at his command. Where the people swooned at a glimpse of his excessively long robes, and the merest glimpse of his face stilled the heart of evil.

Or, as they stepped around a particularly filthy pothole holding a suspicious mix that could only be categorized as… brown, so the propaganda said. With how fervently they shouted his praises, it really couldn’t be anything else.

A grimace twisted across Kisoi’s face as they leapt over something that might have, once, generously been called a small stream, deftly avoiding the rickety bridge that likely would have collapsed out from beneath them. “They’d believe you if you told them free will was his will. A city of sycophants and paupers. Not even the capital was this bad.”

“To each their own.” At least, as they moved further into the sprawling city the conditions seemed to marginally improve. For how filthy the river was, it wasn’t much of a suprise that they didn’t keep the streets clean either. “The emperor has political hegemony and legions of Sun Shrine samurai. The magistrates have their ego, hired swords, and little else.”

Inari snickered beside them, somehow the least muddy of all three despite being the closest to the ground- movements so deft, almost mesmerizing in their exactitude. She glanced poignantly to the vibrant wall colored red and gold shining atop an- annoyingly tall- hill in front of them, then to the slums surrounding them.

“Right.” Kensho rolled her eyes, screwing her mouth into a thin line as they trudged through a patch of sticky mud. “This is…” a breath, held for a second and released with the essense of frustration as she struggled to remain calm. “We haven’t even reached the palace yet and I want to stab him. Hopefully he’ll act on our information.”

“We can trust in his self-interest, at the least. There’s no way he’ll let such a terrible drain on his taxes stand. He’s not incompetent, just… cruel.” Note, the slums around them. “And miserly-” the poor who despondent plodded to the river and to the few workshops, caught in that delicate web- “and unnecessarily stifling to his own economy…”

“Or, if you would, incompetent.”

“Yeah. That works…” Inari cackled once more, leaping up to Kensho’s shoulders- her paws were dry, somehow- and before they knew it they stood before the gates. Immense constructions, aquamarine blue enameled with rippling waves of gleaming lapis, thirty feet tall and more solid than stone. The warriors that stood on watch in their crimson armor were decidedly competent compared to the ones at the Cherry Shrine, their gazes so domineering, viscous even.

To the wary conjuncture of gazes, just a tad bit fearful. “Who approaches the gate of his eminence, supreme ruler of all oceans of the south, blessed of the moon?”

Inari glanced at Kensho, who merely raised an eye before looking away. It wouldn’t be proper to laugh at how they actually announced the magistrate like that after all. “Kensho, Kisoi, and Inari of Black Mountain Shrine, here to request audience with his eminence on urgent matters pertaining to Cherry Shrine.”

“His eminence, supreme ruler of the all oceans-” Kisoi clearly biting back laughter, if the subtle shaking of her shoulders was anything to go by- “is a very busy person. His words commands all the trade of the seas, his domain all the earth from Coal to Blood Moon Shrine.” A long silence stretched between them as they waited. “Reveal this ‘Inari,’ and be judged-”

Inari poked her head out from where she’d been hiding on Kensho’s shoulders, burning eyes catching the warriors in its gaze- such depth… such fear, memories of stories whispered in the dark, shrine legends dutifully read…

The samurai visibly steeled himself, knuckles stained white where his hand gripped the hilt of his tanto. “...uh. Um. Yes, of course-” if his voice sounded somewhat squeaky, then nobody could blame him for that! “ You can come in! Worthy is the petitioner-” and then they were gone.

Odd.

………

Opulent. Succinctly, that was how she would describe the palatial splendor they drifted through, led by wary guards through winding halls. Ostentatious would also match the decor, lines of glittering gold and pale jade- so much jade, why would anyone ever need this much jade? The entire building had clearly been designed to impress, and it was impressive indeed.

"...and these will be your rooms. Your audience will likely be in a few month's time- don't worry, you won't have to leave the compound. Everything will be provided." The servant ducked out of their way, leaving them alone in the small suite of rooms. To the sensibilities of the magistrate they were positively spartan, but against their recent wilderness haunts, the insult rendered ineffectual in the face of what- to them- was luxury.

"Huh. They really don't like their own city."

Kisoi nodded solemnly, kicking their bags into a corner as they peeled off their filthy armor, eager to be dry and clean. "The weather makes it a mire, and the overpopulation, a slum. The administration focuses extensively on trade and manufacturing, and with its recent, unplanned growth the infrastructure has been left… somewhat lacking."

"Really? I couldn't tell." Que unison wry smiles.

"This compound used to encompass the entirety of the city mere hundreds of years past. It's only changed with the rise of the new imperial dynasty."

"Interesting. There's always so many random political things you know…" she reached down to pick up Inari, then frowned as she grasped nothing but air. "Did you see her leave?"

"Nope!" Kisoi slipped into the washroom, throwing aside her muddy boots with the extreme prejudice only a noble could exemplify. "She'll be fine. As long as this isn't one of the places where people hate the fox-spirits, then people will keep away- and she can defend herself well enough."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Thanks." A smile cracked across her face, echoing with the vestiges of relieved laughter, exhaustion so deep creeping up upon her. "Only the Ocean and Blood Moon shrines really do that-"

Kisoi froze, a sharp focus entering into her voice, like ice- "as in, the two shrines that have the greatest hold over the entire south. As in, the two shrines which provide nearly the entire continent of warriors for the imperial magistrate. This imperial magistrate?”

“Eh… would you hurt me if I said yes?” A moment, in silence-

Kensho got hurt.

………

Three days and a not inconsiderable amount of fear over their beloved Inari meeting some bastardly guard’s swords between her head and body, a rather beleaguered Kensho found the fox in- of all places- the palace library. Curled up beside the imperial tax records with a few detailed jurisdictionary maps spread out around her, she made an odd picture- were it not for her general foxyness, she could have been mistaken for a practically studious reader.

It was a bit amusing, though, to see how the librarians skirted thirty feet wide around them, casting feverishly fearful gazes to the peacefully sleeping fox in their midst. It put Kensho in a rather good mood, only reinforced that whoever had left out the maps around Inari had left the exact ones she needed. Grinning, she reclined into a relaxing study of convoluted imperial and local legislation, ready to draft her case and heroically save the oppressed people of Cherry Shrine. How great…

………

Candles flickered faintly, casting glimmer’s echoes across pearly jade, shadows unnoticeable amidst the marching stillness of a thousand statues. Draperies hung still and perfect under the careful ministrations of the unseen servants- a picture from a tapestry, perfection made manifest in this little slice of paradise- yet, still so human. A jade panel or two held the occasional scrape and crack, the floor ever so often scuffed and worn under the many years of heavy traffic.

Here, at night, there was little but the darkness of a palace asleep- a tranquil serenity broken only by the occasional roving guard and a duo intertwined by fate. Their presence was different from the general visitor, clothes ever so slightly ruffled, skin tanned by long journeys, fur just a bit ruffled. They alone could feel how wrong the perfection felt, to to the ramshackle city beyond crimson walls-

It was not their job to fix everything- unless it was, but that was beside the point and pertinent only to a certain vulpine master of foxyness. Kensho slipped past one of the patrolling guards, hand inching toward her sword after each viscous glare sent Inari’s way. “It’s just… I don’t want them to look at you with such hate.”

The fox nuzzled her cheek with its head, eyes so deep looking at her with a promise- unheard, omnipresent. A reminder that she was her own, and they were themselves.

A faint smile floated across her face, if only for a moment. “I know you don’t want me to worry, just… I do, sometimes. You don’t have the armor, or the stature to fight against some…”

A particularly snide look met her musings, eliciting a barely bit back laugh.

“I get it. Don’t underestimate you… those bandits really learnt their lessons.” Her fingers curled halfway into mock claws, a sneer gracing her face in her best impression of Kisoi. “Fear the kitsune! Be… wary?” Sneer, to smile, as fox’s harsh laugh echoed across empty corridors. “Thanks, Inari… it’s nerve-wracking, being here, cooped up without…”

Soon. Their audience would be soon, and so many thousands would live or die on their word. The fox nodded slowly, calm eyes watching, thoughts as ever indiscernible.

“Yep. I bet you don’t even understand… well, I’m glad, if just to have you with me.” If… “you’re the best, Inari-” and there was no need to say more.

………

Thirteen pillars in shadow, draped so tall as to disappear into the shadowed depths of the vast ceiling so far above. Moonlight brilliance echoed through vast windows painted in a thousand shades of gray, stained glass depicting a hundred stories immobilized on the behest of the magistrate- hung in the vast hall like stars, remnants of authority. Water, so still, reflected the scarlet vibrance impressed into the stoneworks of the palace bones, the heartblood of extravagance, its font the dias so perfectly impressed in the center of everything.

Mere specks, twin figures treading down the hall so long and empty, cold stonework alluding to the austerity of moonlight and the absolute authority of the magistrate. For all its ridiculous ostentacity, the unnerving silence of their approach in the vastness of the thorne’s domain was ever so slightly unsettling- it evoked that primal fear of the unknown.

A pressure, against them, only increasing as they knelt before the thirteen-step throne. “Kisoi begs the attention of the magistrate of seas.”

“Kensho begs the attention of the magistrate of seas.”

A third figure leapt from the shoulder of the second, dropping into a bow that for its stature should have looked ridiculous, yet still somehow looked elegant in its awkward precision. A single yip echoed in the ancient hall, bright against the shuffled scrape of armor against itself and a singular, short breath from beyond the veil.

A servant stepped out from behind the throne, robes shimmering silver in the moonlight. “The magistrate deigns to hear your petition. Upon his grace he greets the heavenly fox-spirit, and by his sufferance he hears your words, soldiers of the Black Mountain Shrine.” He paused at some unseen motion, ducking behind the veil for a moment- “he warns you against trickery or deceit, lest his majesty burn the evil from your souls.” The soft shifting of armor was a threat this time, hidden soldiers clearly ready for whatever sort of cleansing their lord required.

“Uh… okay-” Kisoi tapped her shoulder, straightening her just a little bit- “your eminence, in our journeyman travels we discovered an organized group of insurgents posing as a shrine- the Cherry Shrine.” There was a sort of sharp interest she could feel, the servant’s eyes boring into the scroll she’d produced from the folds of her robe. “An accounting of Cherry Shrine, their stores of stolen goods, exact soldiery, and layout of their fortress in exact detail-” and the detail really was exact, for all the splotchy drawing. The report was the next best thing to perfect, and Kensho knew it.

A samurai stepped out from behind the veil, snatching the scroll from her hands and tossing it to the servant, who passed it to the magistrate himself. “The domain of seas thanks you for your…”

A voice, slightly scratchy, of medium tenor and harsh demeanor, cut through the servant’s like the chill of ice. “They know too much. Kill them.” Kensho only had a split second to consider that maybe bringing their case before the magistrate had been a bad idea before she was blocking a Blood Moon samurai’s sword with her own, dancing out of the way of his skillful reach.

More skilled than herself, for that matter- Kisoi was the prodigy, but even she would struggle against these veteran warriors-

A blade slipped through her armor, finding the font of her life, and shattering the mask of her soul-

Red, on red.

Silver descending, swallows flight meeting, a-

Last work of light.

Painless pain, how she’d always imagined… she reached out to Inari, tracking the dizzying feats of acrobatics as she dodged and fought, slicing into warrior after warrior…

A smile.

A hope-

Blood.

Silence.