Three days passed, and by then both Gintaro and Saru were finally ready to take their leave of Iwagawa-ji and the Order of Truists. Gin had spent his time recovering in mind and body from the wounds inflicted by the Tengu, but was largely shunned by the entire Order, and spent his time alone by the pool where he first recovered. Saru had undergone the Penance of Water, sitting in a meditative posture under a cool waterfall for two days. This holy site was an hour’s journey south of the encampment, and she was led there by guards who were there to make sure she endured her punishment. Although it did not seem it by name, the Penance of Water was quite a grueling trial, for the weight of the constant water on her back grew increasingly heavy by the hour, and the brisk mountain waters chilled her to the bone. She was permitted short breaks for meals and time in the evening to sleep. But by the end of her punishment, she was in a foul mood.

“I don’t understand these people,” she grumbled, cracking her neck, as they packed their belongings. “I must suffer for two days under a waterfall for simply coming here after fleeing one of the most dangerous yomi known to man, while you get away with nothing.”

“The Sage took my punishment,” Gin said softly.

“Well, don’t you think she could have taken mine as well?”

“I would have, but I thought that you could use a little discipline,” a voice sounded from the path that led to the encampment. The Sage stood there smiling and slowly made her way down to the quiet pool. “You will survive, young lady, and perhaps you might have learned something from your ordeal.”

“I’ve learned my lesson,” she said with mock seriousness. “I’ll never willingly or unwillingly come across a secret Truist camp again.”

The Sage laughed. “Ah, perhaps all that water cannot clear out a dull mind after all.” Then she turned to Gin. “I must speak with you,” she said. “Alone.”

Saru shot Gintaro a look, but he nodded, indicating that it was all right. She scoffed and strode away, making sure she was as loud as possible, tramping down the path.

“I do not know what you see in that girl,” the Sage said with a wry smile.

“I do not understand your meaning,” Gin exclaimed, flustered by her accusation. “She is a traveling companion. That is all.”

“I see,” said the Sage, doing little to hide the twinkle in her eyes.

Gin’s features suddenly became serious. “I have yet to thank you for what you did at my trial. You saved me. That is twice I am in your debt. I wish there were some way I could repay you.”

“Do not feel indebted to me. I knew that my time on the Elder Council was near its end. My kami forewarned me that I am expected elsewhere. And poor Kageyama-san, he could not stand me. He must be quite pleased to be rid of me. He is a good man at heart, he really is, but he carries a lot on his shoulders as Elder Superior, and it weighs on him. His time is also drawing near.”

“What will you do?”

“I will wander. The Order no longer needs my protection. Now that the Tengu has been destroyed, the foothills of Osoroshi are safe. The Elder Superior will lead the Order there, I believe. There they will be quite secure for the first time in many years. They will finally have a real place to call their own. And many brigands who have lived in desperation, may convert, and bolster their numbers. As for me, I will gather as many as I can to our cause, and search for my successor. So, you see, it has all worked out as it should.”

“So you say,” Gin acknowledged. “But even so, please accept my thanks.”

“They are accepted,” the old woman said with a smile. There was a moment of lingering silence, and then the Sage reached into her cloak and pulled out a sword. “There is something else I think you’ll be needing on your way.”

“My sword!” Gin cried. “I thought it was lost.”

“One of the scouts found it in the stream where you encountered the Tengu. It is still intact.”

Gin took it and unsheathed it. It gleamed with inherent sharpness.

“It is a consecrated sword,” he said, sheathing the sword once again and looking up at the Sage with grave respect. “It is said that it will not break as long as the power of the Sage who blessed it does not wane.”

“And it will become sharper the longer the Kaijin wields it,” the Sage continued. “I may no longer be a member of the Council of Elders, but my power has not yet left me. One thing puzzles me. There was another, no? Your master insisted on two swords being consecrated for he was to teach you his famous technique.”

“There is another, but I gave it to someone as a promise.”

“And what exactly did you promise?”

There was an even longer pause. “I promised to never use the sword again.”

“How interesting,” the Sage said with a knowing smile. “If they truly meant you to keep it, they should have taken both of your swords.”

To this, Gin made no reply.

“Your master, he was special, was he not?” the Sage said suddenly, changing the subject of the conversation.

Gintaro smiled nostalgically. “That he was.”

“He was truly a great Kaijin,” the Sage continued. “Greater than you may ever realize.”

“I have come to think more highly of him now that I am older.”

“He is dead, you know,” she said softly.

Gin moved his mouth to speak a few times until the words finally came. “That is ill news.”

“It is.” There was an uneasy silence for several moments that followed this exchange.

“Do you know when, or how?” Gin finally asked.

The Sage exhaled slowly and shook her head. “We do not know.”

“I always thought he was invincible,” Gintaro said, his voice breaking with emotion. “I was hoping to see him one more time before the end. I never really apologized for leaving him. He did not deserve it, not after all he did for me.”

“I am sorry I had to be the one to tell you this,” the Sage said softly. “But I had to tell you. With him gone, that leaves you as the sole Kaijin left on these islands.”

Gin looked up with a frown. “I thought you and the Elder Superior made it clear. I am not a Kaijin, nor was I ever.”

The Sage sighed. “Kageyama-san is a hard man, and he must be. He has the entire Order to worry about. That is his focus, and he must preserve them. But my focus, indeed my office’s focus, has always been different. The Sage considers the deep currents that course through this world that direct the future. We desperately need the Kaijin, now perhaps more than ever. Darkness is growing on the Islands. Many people thought that the War of Ashes was the culmination of many evils, but it was only the birthing pains. We are now in the calm, and soon we will see the full fury of the storm.”

Her foreboding words seemed to chill him so that he shivered. Gin instinctively rolled his shoulders with discomfort. “I am sorry,” he finally said. “But I cannot be what you want me to be.”

At this the Sage slowly lowered herself down on the soft grass, laying her staff at her left side. She then leaned forward and prostrated before him. He stood, horrified at the gesture.

“Stop this!” he commanded. “It should be I bowing before you!”

“I am not bowing to honor you, Gin-san. I am bowing to beg you. Do not go! These are the words of my kami. If you continue your current path, doom will befall you. Doom the likes of which man has rarely known! Do not go! It begs you! I beg you! Stay, take the rites. Stay!”

Her shrill voice echoed through the forest so that the birds overhead lifted in flight while a strong wind shook the trees and their branches.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“My daughter is out there!” he cried in return. “What would you have me do? Abandon her?”

“Leave her to the mighty arms of the All-kami,” the Sage answered, lifting her head. Her eyes were wide with fear, with true concern.

“I do not trust the All-kami to preserve those I love!” Gin shot back, growing angrier. “He has already failed me in this before!” At this he turned, unable to bear the sight of the elderly woman kneeling on the grass before him.

Slowly, the Sage grabbed her staff and pulled herself back up to standing. “You have the right to choose,” she said softly after a few moments. “But please, Gin-san, choose wisely.” With that, she turned and hobbled back up the path from whence she came.

He said nothing and did not turn to watch her leave. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, but it still shook with regret.

The two woke early the following morning, for they both wanted to start their journey as soon as possible. They were stopped nonetheless, by a throng of Truists, who, despite the warnings from the Elder Superior, made it a point to see them off. Gintaro was still relatively shunned, though, by this time, quite a few looked upon him with admiration for his role in slaying the Tengu. Saru, on the other hand, was extremely popular among the young monks and nuns, as she not only helped to slay the Tengu but endured a Truist penance, making her like one of them. People crowded around her, chanted her name, and reached for her skin as if touching her would impart upon them some measure of bravery.

Saru, of course, did not enjoy this but permitted it only because of the marvelous gift she was given. The Truist Temple Guardians, who were responsible for the defense of the Truist Order, were well renowned as master spearmen, and they had decided to give her one of their spears, as her naginata had been destroyed in the battle with the Tengu. The new spear was fashioned of ash wood and gilded with golden runes. The blade at the tip was forged with the finest quality steel, and the handle was covered with a tanned leather hide. She wore it upon her back proudly, and even folded her hands and bowed as the Truists gathered around her and prayed for her health and success. Even the Sage was there, standing behind the crowd, next to the wall of bamboo all alone. Her departure was also quickly approaching, so she had already begun to distance herself from the camp.

“May the All-kami guide you through the void!” she cried out from her place, and both Gin and Saru could swear they could feel other eyes upon them, those looking down at them from the sky. The wind rustled the trees and aided them on.

Eventually, they were free of the crowd, and they could proceed along at a healthy pace. By midday, they had returned to one of the central paths, and they continued due east. The dark mountain of Osoroshi was so far behind them, that it was only a dim rise on the horizon, fading into the haze of the sweltering summer day. Their destination was the Old Capital, and by the estimation of the Truists, they were a little more than a two-week journey away. Gin knew that the Shōgun had residences in the Old Capital, and though they were not often used, he wondered if it would be wise to check there first, before moving on to the New Capital. If anything, the Old Capital was a hub for information, and if there was one place where he could find more news about his daughter, it was there.

The two made camp that night beside the road. They were no longer afraid of attracting any attention, for these lands were in the power of the Truists, and no marauders were known to pass through there. It was still wild, and heavily forested land and thus they were likely the only people around for many leagues. They were well equipped to have a nice meal that evening, be it mostly roots and vegetables, but the pair ate heartily, and their spirits lifted. They talked merrily around the fire.

“Soon we will return to inhabited lands,” Gin explained. “That region is controlled by the Mashige Shōgunate now, but it used to belong to the Yoshimitsu. I spent many years in the Old Capital and the surrounding region. It is the closest thing to a homeland for me.”

Saru swallowed the rest of her bowl of soup and wiped her mouth with the back of her forearm. “I am excited to see the Old Capital,” she said, licking her lips. “I have heard so much about it. It is said that there are more temples, palaces, and gardens than there are people.”

Gin laughed. “That is a bit of an exaggeration, but there are many of those and more. Indeed, in the days of the Emperors, there was no such city to rival it on the Islands or perhaps even the world. Recently, it has lost much of its luster. Along with temples and palaces, the Old Capital has also been filled with death and violence. Many of the ancient places have been burned or destroyed, and the more recent construction cannot compare with those of ancient days. Yet it is still important, even if it is no longer the seat of the Shōgun. The history that is buried there has not been forgotten by many of the residents. They have long memories and love old lore. They, of all people, long for an Emperor to return, for they remember the splendor of that era.”

“The Sakura Throne is said to be housed in the Imperial Palace,” Saru said. “Though the doors are sealed until an heir returns.”

“So the stories go. However, I do not think that room will ever be seen by human eyes again. The line of the Emperors failed long ago.”

“That is unfortunate,” Saru murmured, staring into the fire. “I think we could use an Emperor in these dark days. When you were ailing, the Sage spoke to me now and again. She warned me of evil times ahead.”

Gintaro waited for her to continue but then turned his head. There was a distant sound of hooves on the path drawing nearer to them. Surprised, they both drew their weapons and waited.

The sound continued to draw nearer, and despite it being dark, they could see the dim outline of a rider speeding along.

“Who goes there?” Gintaro cried out.

“Truist or outlaw?” Saru followed.

“Both,” a voice answered them, as the rider’s features came into view.

“Nō?” Saru cried, her eyes widening in disbelief.

On a familiar chestnut steed, one of the two that survived the battle with the Tengu sat the initiate monk, who flashed a rare smile at them. He swiftly dismounted and led the horse to a nearby tree and tied it, allowing it to feast on the wild grass below.

“What are you doing here?” Gin asked. He inspected the horse, who was heavily laden with baggage which the monk was dutifully removing.

“I did not get a proper chance to say goodbye,” he said, as he was lowering the heavy baggage to the ground. He was evidently pleased with this remark and tried to hold back a grin.

“That might be the first joke I have ever heard you tell!” Saru said with a laugh. “There is hope for you after all!”

“Tell us what is really going on,” Gin commanded, growing angry. “Do the Truists have any other punishments for us?”

“No, this is different,” the boy said, continuing to unpack.

“We helped you in your mission,” pressed Gin, clearly perturbed. “Our oaths are fulfilled. We did not ask for another companion.”

When the young monk had finished with his work, he turned, brushing a few beads of sweat from his shaved head. “I have been given a new mission,” he said cautiously.

“Which is?”

The boy stirred nervously. “Well, I am to be trained in the ways of the Kaijin.”

Gin slammed his sword back into its hilt with fury. “No!” he cried and then turned around and sat back down by the fire. “Absolutely not!”

Nō took a step forward gingerly. “The Sage commanded me to come to you, and she told me that you would say that. She said to remind you that you owe her...twice.”

Gin shot him a glare, but then wrinkled his face in frustration. “How many times must I say it? I am not a Kaijin! Your Elder Superior forbade me from even using the title!”

“The Sage also told me you would say that. She said, ‘Though you are forbidden to be a Kaijin, you were not forbidden from teaching one how to be a Kaijin.’”

Gin rubbed his chin with his palm, a gesture of annoyance. “I am starting to see why the Elder Superior wanted her off the council.”

“She does have a peculiar way of seeing things,” Nō said hopefully. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes.

“I cannot. I am not a teacher. I am just a man trying to save his daughter. That is all.”

The monk stepped forward once again, bent down on his hands and knees, and bowed before the swordsman. “I know that you have your own mission, and I do not intend to interfere with that in any way. I will even assist you if I can. Just, please, allow me to learn from you. I know you can fight. You stood toe toe-to-toe with a Tengu - only a true Kaijin could do such a thing. You may not think so, but you can teach me. I know you can.”

Gintaro exhaled and stared down at the fire, which had begun to smolder.

“Ever since I entered the Order as an orphan,” Nō said, “I wanted to become a Temple Guardian. My parents were peasants and were killed during the war. So, I wanted to use my talents to defend the faithful and to protect the weak. I trained hard every day and did not deviate from that path. After many years, I was finally allowed to undergo the rites if my trial was successful. It was my final test as it were, and thanks to you, I succeeded. Before I finally committed myself to becoming what I had longed for, the Sage came to me and told me that she thought I would make a poor temple guardian. I was devastated. It was my dream. But then she told me that she thought I was made for another path, this path. ‘Sometimes the best way to protect others is to eliminate evil at the source before it grows,’ she said. ‘That is the path of a Kaijin.’ Ever since we met, I felt the hand of the All-kami weigh heavily upon me. I believe that it is my destiny to be your apprentice.”

Gin grumbled to himself before turning to Saru. “What do you think?”

Saru looked over at Nō and smiled. “Why not? Hanging around with us might help him loosen up a bit. You can teach him the boring stuff, and I’ll show him how to really live.”

Nō appeared shocked that Saru had spoken in his defense and now looked at her with newfound respect.

Gin winced. “And the Elder Superior? Does he know about this?” he asked.

Nō shook his head and kept his face down. “Not yet. The Sage told me that she would inform him at a later time. Although, if I were to be sent back now, I am not sure what would happen to me.”

The swordsman cleared his throat forcefully and then sighed loudly once again. “You may join us,” he said at last. A look of great relief washed over Nō while Saru cheered. “But it will not be anything like the training you are used to,” he followed quickly. “And you must not slow us down.”

Nō bowed low once again, and keeping his eyes to the ground he said, “I will follow you faithfully, master!”

“Not master!” Gin growled. “For I am no master.”

“Yes, Sensei!” he said, bowing repeatedly.

“Enough with the formality!” Saru said sarcastically. “Before I change my mind about you.”

The monk’s face grew white with fear and Saru howled with laughter. “Sit down, kid. I’ll get you some food.”

Nō glanced over at Gintaro as if needing to hear if it were all right to sit amongst them.

He gestured that it was fine with his hand. “Sit and eat,” he said. “Heed Saru unless she tells you to do something profane.”

“Profane?” Saru cried, pretending to be insulted. “Me?” She then spun around and mooned her companions, who lurched backward in exaggerated horror.

All three laughed hard and did not care who heard them. It was the first time each had done so in what felt like a very long time.