Nanea finally found Shura the Destroyer. Clad in tattered rags, he squatted in the middle of an abandoned field, chewing noisily on some tubers dug from the mud.
So this was the Slayer of Armies. Shura tossed his head to and fro as he ate. His eyes were vacant and frantic, like those of a beaten dog afraid his dirt-caked food would be stolen from his mouth. His white hair and beard hung from his head in filthy clumps.
The stories were true, then. The Destroyer was a madman. Doubt flowered anew in Nanea’s mind.
Her lower lip trembled, but she shut her eyes tightly, preempting any tears. Not that there would be any. She burned with a bone-wracking fever that scorched all moisture from her body. Every breath was molten agony.
“My mind is a fortress,” she muttered as she began walking toward Shura.
The catechism of the Zu Guardians. She’d chanted those words alongside her fellow initiates. A lifetime ago. Hours on the training fields. Giggles and gossip in the dormitories. Then one day, he’d appeared. And everything had changed.
Across her bosom, Enki stirred in his carrying harness and looked up quietly at Nanea. He was only a little over a year old, but he somehow knew her moods. He wept when she did. Not cried, like other infants. Wept, with flowing tears. So she’d resolved to never weep again. She would be strong. For him. For her little sparrow.
Enki touched her face with his tiny fingers. Nanea smiled and cooed to him.
“Little sparrow chirp and dance,” she sang softly. “The wind is gentle, and warm is the sun.”
Enki smiled back at her. She wanted to stroke his cheek, but she held a bamboo basket in one hand and her sword in the other.
“Sing little sparrow, tell me your song. Fill the sky with your joy—” A wracking cough sliced into her, and for several heartbeats, all she could do was stand there, retching with her head turned from Enki. When she looked back at him, he reached out and touched her lip. His fingers came away streaked with blood.
“Little sparrow…” Nanea began, but a bestial grunt cut her song off. Shura the Destroyer glared at her from only a few strides away, holding a clump of gnawed tubers in his hands.
His massive hands. Up close, the sheer size of the man unnerved Nanea. Even on his haunches, he loomed over her by several heads. His shoulders were at least thrice as broad as hers, and the thick cords of muscle roped around his limbs resembled armor plates more than flesh. The Destroyer’s unnaturally contorted spine forced him into a perpetual apelike posture.
A horrific battle-axe lay in the mud at his feet.
Shura’s eyes flickered to her sword.
And suddenly, the Destroyer had his axe in his hands, the animal idiocy on his face replaced by a murderlust rictus. His pupils dilated to fill his eyes with their darkness. A crackling energy field roared into existence over his limbs and churned the air into a howling frenzy.
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So this was the aegis of the famed Stormbringer, the martial Path which allowed Shura to wade through oceans of cannon fire, level fortresses, and slaughter countless enemies.
Nanea’s Path was the Violet Star of the Zu Guardians, and she’d cloaked herself in its aegis before she’d even caught sight of Shura. Its protective energy field was a feeble, flickering thing before the Stormbringer’s fury.
On the training fields of the Zu Abbey, Nanea had won dozens of duels. She’d bested a Wu Dang Swordmaster atop one of the marbled arenas erected on Mount Hwa for the decennial Dialog Of Blades. Years ago, in defense of a village, she’d defeated the mutant warlord Tulvar Neckcutter and scattered his minions to the winds.
But Shura was infinitely more powerful than her. Nanea would last less than a micro-second against him. This was truly the Destroyer, and he was exactly what she needed.
He took a single step forward. The ground shook. The wind howled.
Her robes whipped wildly about her body. Enki covered his face with his hands, but he didn’t cry. Her little sparrow never cried.
Taking a deep breath, Nanea did one of the most horrifying things in her life. She cast her sword aside.
Shura stopped. Something like uncertainty flickered across his broad, heavily-scarred features.
Nanea put down her bamboo basket, undid Enki’s carrying harness, and cradled her little sparrow in her arms.
“Good afternoon, Mister Shura. Let us talk,” she said.
Shura roared. The sheer volume of his fury forced Nanea to cup her hands over Enki’s ears and envelop him in her aegis so that her little sparrow’s internal organs would not be pulped.
But Shura did not strike her down. Again, the stories were true. The Destroyer killed only in battle. Yet she had approached him with a blade in hand and her aegis across her limbs.
A foolhardy gambit, but a necessary one. Without her sword, she would be helpless against the Yagyu Shadows. Without the strength of her aegis, the Yagyu poison would have killed her long ago. And then her little sparrow would be lost. She would not allow that, and God willing, neither would the Destroyer.
“Such rudeness embarrasses you, Mister Shura,” Nanea said. “Etiquette demands that you allow me to introduce myself and my son.”
Shura lowered his axe and dismissed his aegis. The tormented air snapped back back into immobile, deafening silence. When the Destroyer sat down on his haunches and met her gaze, human lucidity rather than bestial stupidity had replaced the fading darkness in his eyes.
“Sorry,” Shura said, his voice the rumble of distant thunder. “I was having one of my… moments.”
“Apology accepted.”
“So who are you? What do you want?”
“My name is Nanea, once of the Zu Abbey.” She stroked her little sparrow’s brow. “And this is my son, Enki.”
To Nanea’s surprise, Enki gurgled happily and reached for Shura, who leaned his massive frame uncomfortably away from Enki’s tiny hands.
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“A Zu Guardian? Don’t see too many of you around,” the Destroyer grunted. “Well, you know who I am and what I do, so I know what you want. Where is the battle? Who are the enemies?
How will you pay me?”
“I bring no tidings of war.”
“Then what?”
“All in good time.” Nanea opened her bamboo basket. “I have prepared several dishes for you, Mister Shura.”
Shura’s eyes lit up. “Ah. I never turn down food.”
Putting Enki down, Nanea retrieved a grass mat from her basket and spread it before her. Then she laid out three clay plates with ceramic covers, fighting to keep her hands from trembling as she did so. The edges of her vision were dimming, and her aegis was beginning to crumble.
“Rice cakes steamed in fragrant corn sauce,” she said, uncovering the first dish. “A staple in my home province.”
Salivating, Shura nodded and rubbed his hands.
“Spiced radishes, garnished with onions.” Nanea opened the second dish. “In the Abbey, we eat this after training. It’s said to improve circulation.”
Shura grunted impatiently and licked his lips.
“Braised swine, with a sweet wine sauce on the side.” Nanea’s voice cracked as she revealed the third dish. “I’d thought a man of your stature would appreciate the substantiality of such a dish.”
“Ah, that smells very good.”
“Kindly partake, Mister Shura,” Nanea said. Enki looked over his shoulder at her, and she stroked his head. “As you do, please listen—“
Another coughing fit tore through into her. She covered her mouth with her sleeve, but not before a few drops of blood splattered into her lap.
Shura was already halfway through the rice cakes. He raised an eyebrow at the sight. “Sounds like a ruptured forty-seventh central cluster. And your aegis isn’t repairing the damage. Poison, I’m guessing. You’re going to die soon, Nanea, once of Zu.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, then you should speak your mind quickly.”
“Do you remember a man called Jiang Long, once of Wu Dang?”
“Wu Dang? Snotty little shits, the whole lot of them.” Shura grimaced as he swallowed a chunk of radishes. “No, I don’t remember anyone by that name.”
“He was my love and Enki’s father,” Nanea said. “And you killed him.”
“I did, eh? Well, I’ve killed a lot of people.” Shura belched. “Here for revenge then? Poison doesn’t work on me, you know? Ah, your cooking is superb.”
Nanea smiled wanly. “My love used to think so too, but no, I’m not here for revenge.”
Shura grunted, his mouth full of swine-flesh.
“I met my love when he arrived at the Zu Abbey as part of a delegation from Wu Dang. They had a newly-ascended Swordmaster named Lin Kung, who wished to test his might against the prowess of my Order.”
“Bah. Political posturing. That’s why I can’t stand you Orthodox Orders. Always full of shit,” Shura said. “This Swordmaster any good?”
“He was brilliant, but I bested him in a formal duel.”
Shura raised an eyebrow. “I’d ask you to get to the point, but I ate your food, so I’ll hear you out. Go on.”
“When it was time for the delegation to leave, I decided to follow Jiang Long.” A smile drifted unbidden across Nanea’s face. “I was young then, Mister Shura, and in love.”
“Wait. Aren’t the Zu Guardians uh…”
“Yes, we are sworn to celibacy. My Master cast me from the Abbey, though as one woman to another, she gave me her blessing and wished me every happiness in life.”
“Doesn’t look like you found it.”
“On the contrary. Jiang Long left his Order too, and we retired to the country side. It wasn’t long before we were blessed with our little sparrow. Then, I’d found every happiness I’d ever wanted.”
“And now you’re here, dying before me,” Shura said.
“It was the Yagyu clan. More specifically, the Shadowlord himself took an interest in us.”
“That sneaky little shit Munenori? But why?”
“My little sparrow is a natural born prodigy of martial science, Mister Shura. In time and with the right guidance, his power will be unparalleled.”
Shura snorted. “That’s what they all say.”
“Check for yourself. The clarity of his major channels. The depth of his nexus. The range of his synaptic network.”
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Nanea let Enki crawl to Shura. Shrugging, the Destroyer placed the tip of his index finger to Enki’s forehead and pulsed his internal energy through the child’s body. Shura’s eyes widened.
“You weren’t lying. He’s truly gifted,” he said. Enki tugged on Shura’s finger. A smile crept across the Destroyer’s face. “And strangely endearing, I’ll admit, but could you please bring him away?”
Nanea picked Enki up. Her little sparrow cooed and put his hands on her cheeks. Nanea gasped and swooned. Her lungs had begun to spasm, and she could no longer see out of her left eye. Still, she kissed Enki on the forehead with burning, frozen lips.
“The Shadowlord wants my child.” Nanea knelt so she wouldn’t fall. “To appease him, my love entered his service, only to be sent to his death against you.”
Shura sighed. “As I said, I don’t remember him. I’ve killed so many. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Something wet and hot rolled down Nanea’s cheeks. Tears. She could no longer hold them in, and the fever had not dried them all up, not in these final moments. “You left little of him to bury, Mister Shura. So little. At first, I yearned for your death. But then I realized that my little sparrow came first, no matter what.”
Shura bowed his head.
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“Then the Yagyu Shadows came for us. I fought my way free and fled, but not before a poisoned blade cut me. They pursue us still, but I’ve found you first.”
“Why?”
“All recognize your power, but few know your traditions. Your name is an inherited one. As an apprentice, your name was Raksha.” Nanea stroked her little sparrow’s face with trembling, nerveless fingers.
“True. I took my Master’s name upon his passing. Five, six centuries ago? Don’t remember.” Shura folded his arms across his chest.
“Where is the current Raksha?”
“I have no apprentice.” Shura shrugged. “Not yet, anyway. Too troublesome.”
“Then here is your apprentice.” Nanea held Enki out. “My little sparrow will give up his name and take the one you once had.”
Enki must have sensed that something was wrong. He looked back at his mother. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Madness.” Shura shook his head. “Do you know what you’re asking? The Stormbringer is a Forbidden Path. It corrupts the flesh and mind. Look at me!”
“I have.” Blood flowed freely from the corners of her mouth. “And if I’d thought that you were truly a mindless beast, I would have ended my little sparrow’s life myself before asking this of you.”
Shura stood. “Go to a surgeon. Or maybe a sorcerer. I know this fellow—”
“There is no remedy for a Yagyu poison.” Nanea’s voice had become little more than a harsh whisper. “I beg of you, on bended knees, to grant my request.”
Enki cried and reached for her, much to her surprise. Her little sparrow never cried. She hugged him close. “Shush, shush, little sparrow. The wind is gentle, and warm is the sun.”
Shura growled and picked up his axe. “Looks like the Yagyu are here.”
Nanea looked around. Figures in gray-brown battle harnesses surrounded them. Some carried blades. Others held rifles and grenade launchers.
“We have no quarrel with you, Destroyer,” one of the Yagyu Shadows said. “We want only the child. He will be raised as a champion of our clan, and he will want for nothing in life.”
“Fellow’s got a point,” Shura grunted. “Little one will be better off with the sneaky bastards than with me.”
“No!” Nanea coughed a gobbet of blood. “The Shadowlord… I know his secret. I know what he does… to children. What he will do to a prodigy. He will never have my little sparrow, Mister Shura. Never!”
“Fine.” Shura turned to the Yagyu Shadow who’d spoken. “You heard her. Go away or die.”
“We cannot defy the Shadowlord’s will.”
The Stormbringer screeched into existence. Shura hefted his axe. “So be it.”
Amidst the carnage, Nanea held Enki close and sang to him, her fading aegis shielding him from shrapnel and stray bullets.
“Tell me your song, little sparrow. Fill the sky with your joy.”
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She could no longer see anything. So she cupped his face in her hands until sensation, too, faded from them. Still, she sang for him. She would keep singing. She would never stop. Never sto—
**
Shura found himself walking down a dirt road, covered in blood. Nothing unusual. Looked like some fools had needed killing, and he’d obliged them, as always.
More curious was the child cradled in the nook of his arm. Dark haired and short-limbed, he looked up at the Destroyer with serious, quiet eyes. Where did he come from?
“Who’re you?” Shura asked.
The child tugged on his beard. Scattered fragments of broken memories spun around in his head until suddenly, there was an answer.
An obvious one. He knew the child’s name, of course.
“Alright, Raksha,” the Destroyer said. “Let’s go find some food. I’m hungry.”
Read Shura Saga: Blood Rose