Her skin was perfect. Lin hadn’t taken any notice after waking in the dust-choked library at the Hall of Heavens, but now that she faced a mirror in her room, her body bare, she had the chance to truly take in the stark difference in her appearance. Her wounds were gone. Her broken nose had completely healed. The scars plaguing her lower neck and shoulders had vanished, leaving smooth, unblemished skin without so much as a mark to serve as a reminder. Healthy flesh replaced the broken, corrupted tissue so cleanly that Lin still couldn’t believe her eyes after staring for close to an hour. When she finally redressed and set out, she did so with one concern playing on her mind. Sio had achieved the impossible by restoring her body to the healthiness of a new-born babe; the question of how was just another in a long line of mysteries left unanswered.
Rain had started to fall outside, soaking the gravel paths, stone pavings and dry earth, and it gave off a comfily familiar smell. It was one that rekindled peaceful memories of a break in summer’s driest days, rainfall that washed away the heat and breathed life back into the world with the sleepy scent of petrichor. Crystalline orbs rolled over leaves, the thinnest of the branches quivered under their weight. Over by the pond, toads sat motionlessly at the rippling water’s edge, basking in the miserable serenity. Everything seemed to be at peace in the calm of the late evening.
Company awaited Lin in the main courtyard under the bare branches of the shrine’s sakura tree. Sitting cross-legged in a state of deep concentration, Kana had a terrifyingly intense expression plastered across his face. He stared intently at the wood-handled knife in his left hand, allowing it to twirl weightlessly around his fingers before moving to pass it into his right. Lin watched the display with a smug grin.
“Nice trick, but you’re going to get drenched out in this rain. That tree isn’t offering much shelter,” she called out through the downpour. Kana’s head shot in her direction, then slowly back to the knife. He stood and started toward her with a sheepish smile.
“Where’ve you been, Kana? I’ve almost missed you.”
“Here and there. There’s a whole mountain here to explore. There’s another shrine at the summit. I even found a cave system on the western face,” he said, indicating with a thumb.
“Is that something so surprising?”
“It is. Someone’s been living there.”
“Cannibals. Only cannibals live in caves. Did your expedition scare you?” Lin asked, raising her arms menacingly.
“A little. I doubt there’s any cannibals around here, though,” he pointed out. “You’re looking better than you did last night when I so kindly hauled you back to your room. Do you have any idea just how heavy you are?”
“You want to pick up that fight where we left it?”
He continued, “I seem to remember that your skin wasn’t nearly so smooth. Between those scars, wounds and your broken nose, you were in quite the state.”
“Did my scars disgust you?” Lin asked, but the annoyance was gone from her voice.
“No, Lin. They were just another part of you,” he replied. “Tell me then, Miss Ko, what happened between then and now?”
“I’ve no idea. I passed out this morning and woke up around an hour ago missing even my scars. Sio was there when I woke up, but left before I could ask her anything.”
“So you’ve no idea where she went?”
Lin gestured to the Hall of Heavens, “Maybe she’s making preparations before her guests arrive. Maybe she’s left to meet them. I don’t know. Why are you so interested in my mother?”
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m a student, I seek information. Lady Sio has more to offer than most.”
“You did tell me that, but I don’t have to believe you.”
“That’s very good,” Kana nodded, “Very impressive. My lies are worthless if you simply don’t believe them.”
“Stop talking like that. You admit it, then?”
“Of course. It’s part of the profession.”
“But what’s the point in lying if you’re going to admit the truth anyway?”
“I wouldn’t usually, but you don’t seem the brightest. I don’t think there’s much harm in-”
“You’ll have to let me know what the weather’s like in the Xia’an Abyss when you get there,” Lin interrupted through her pointed canines.
“Pretty awful, I’d imagine. I doubt it’s called the Dark for its lazy summer days and sun-bleached sands.”
“It can’t be that bad, or the Heavens wouldn’t live there.”
Kana’s brows shot upright, “Oh really? What gave you the idea that they live there?”
“Scripture, maybe?” Lin answered, “I’m sure the Confessions of Jieshe mentioned something like that.”
“I’m surprised you’ve read it. Mystifying as always, Lin,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She briefly winced out of reflex for the wound that had been there mere hours ago. Her eyes fell upon Kana expectantly, yet his own looked far into the distance. “According to the Confessions, the Heavens are created on our planet, Taizo.”
A queer smile broke across Lin’s lips, “Yes, you don’t need to specify.”
“Really? What if it meant our twin planet? Isn’t that technically ours?”
“As of twelve years ago, maybe. You know, I dreamt of being the first to visit it once. The ancient texts probably weren’t written around then, though. They don’t include the Ninth or Tenth.”
“Probably not. The Heavens are supposedly created here, but their matured forms are far too great to inhabit this physical plane. Their very existence begins to seep through the fabric of reality, rebuilding itself within the Abyss.”
“Mm. That sounds very heavenlike. If you’re saying they exist in our world, then where are they hiding? Why are they hiding?” Lin asked in bemusement.
“Easy with the questions, how am I supposed to know where they all are? The Fifth and Tenth aren’t in Sakao, but the rest could be anywhere on either of the Twins.”
“Fine, but what about those two? How do you know they aren’t here?”
“The Fifth has been sighted far west in the Cataclysmic Ocean. Perhaps it’s trying to climb over there,” he pointed, guiding Lin’s line of sight through the rainy mist toward the darkening surface of the planet Zetian.
It had arrived from the endless starlit corridors of the night sky, a gargantuan clump of rock and dirt quenched by a glistening blue ocean. In a matter of days, the sky over the north-western horizon was swallowed by its immense body. She didn’t know how such a thing could have happened so easily, nor did she remember much of anything from those years before her time with Sio, only the coming of an end that never arrived. Enormous roots like preying leviathans erupted from Taizo’s surface, reaching out across space to halt the planet’s approach. Zetian’s oceans exploded into its atmosphere. Hurtling torrents of meteorites rained upon the world.
The days of the Earthen Cataclysm were gone. About a third of Zetian was visible from the mountainside, peeking over the long stretches of coniferous trees and rain-sodden marshland to the southwest. Its plentiful seas had calmed, and though skies of shooting stars were an almost daily occurrence, Taizo’s landscape was no longer at threat from its twin’s cosmic artillery.
“Some believe that one of the Ten lives somewhere along the branches of Zetian’s Bridge. That might explain how we weren’t dragged out into space by Zetian’s gravity.”
“Would that really happen?”
“I’m not sure,” Kana shrugged, “Zetian’s only about two thirds the size of Taizo, but surely something so colossal would have an equally large gravitational field. The centre of gravity should have shifted to a shared point in space when the Twins came in such close proximity.”
“Right, of course. That makes sense,” Lin nodded in stern agreement without an idea of what the boy was talking about.
“Not that it matters. It’s been twelve years and our feet are still spitefully planted. If we were going to be pulled into the stretching darkness, surely it’d have happened by now.”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Although the gravitons powering Taizo’s gravity field are running out, so it’ll soon degrade and we’ll all be flung into space to die anyway,” Kana stroked his smooth cheeks thoughtfully.
“That is so, an unfortunate truth it might be,” Lin sighed. Her brain kicked in a moment later. “Wait, what? Why are we using up all of our gravity?”
“I don’t make the laws of physics, they’re just the rules. We’ll freeze in the eternal cold as we float among the stars,” he spoke wistfully into the sky.
“No- that can’t- why didn’t anyone tell me before? When are the gravi-things going to run out?”
“When you stop believing everything I say,” he replied, breaking into a smile. “That’s enough for now. I’m going to look around the shrine to see if I can find Sio. I’ll see you around.” The boy waved a lazy hand and stepped back out into the grey drizzle.
“Kana, wait.”
“Hmm?” he glanced over his shoulder.
“What about the Tenth Heaven? You never told me where it is.”
“The youngest Heaven, born during Sengoku’s war that nearly drove Sen to extinction. As for where it lives…” he paused. A sole finger pointed at Zetian.
There were a thousand questions Lin wanted to ask Kana when he turned and disappeared into the rain. Who are you, really? Where do you come from? What’s it like there? What sorts of things do you like? Too many questions, and not one of them answered. At least I know where the Heavens rest their heads. Or maybe I don’t. Do they even have heads? The surplus of questions began to get on Lin’s nerves, and so she stopped thinking, planting herself on the veranda from where she could peacefully watch the gloomy downpour in peace. It was from there that she caught a distant glimpse of Ravi Jie madly swinging a lengthy bamboo stalk, his usually untidy dark hair tied neatly behind his head. The scant clothing that he wore was soaked through from the rain and his blood-pumped muscles had a sheen of water and sweat, although even while exerted, his muscular definition was pitiably disappointing. Lin leapt down from the veranda and started toward him.
“You look as though you’ve had a falling out with the wind,” Lin remarked. Ravi faced her with a slack-jaw, his eagerness to talk hindered by heavy breaths. Brilliant blue and red bruising decorated the skin around a fresh gash upon his cheek.
“What happened?” he asked.
“That’s something I’d like to know myself. You haven’t seen Sio around, have you?”
“Not since she carried you away.”
“That’s fine, she’ll come and find me sooner or later whether or not I want her to. What are you doing out in the rain?”
“Weapon training,” answered Ravi, and he held out the bamboo pole toward her. A pouch of rocks had been fastened to its end.
“What’s wrong, did you get tired of your magic tricks?”
Ravi cast his eyes to the distance ahead.
“I’m not enough. Everything is weak that must be strong. I can’t rely on magic to close that gap anymore.”
“You seemed pretty handy with it before.”
“Maybe, but controlling air pressure around my skin can only take me so far. I need something else. I don’t have the months to waste away in hopes of learning a single basic technique, nor do I have the years to make that technique become useful. How long did it take you to figure out that shadow hand of yours?”
“I’ve been able to use a basic form of spectral reach for as long as I’ve been able to walk, though Sio was with me all the way.”
“Years of practice, and Fuu managed to dispel it with a wave of her hand. Magic is weak and unreliable. Building back my strength is my only choice,” he said adamantly. “Fuu’s life is my responsibility, and now Ai’s too. The way things are going, we’ll see the measure of my worth before the night is over.”
“Is that so?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“I’m going to clear the way to Hema’s summit of any danger. So long as all goes well, Fuu should be cured by the morning.”
Lin shrugged, “I suppose I’ll tag along, since you insisted and all.”
“I didn’t insist on any such thing, and are you sure it’s a good idea? You were in such a bad way earlier that it’s a surprise to even see you awake.”
Lin’s reassurances didn’t do much to sway Ravi’s opinion in spite of their truth. Her weariness had been replaced with energy that left her anxious and restless, the tips of her fingers twitched and tingled as if they were coursing with electricity. If Sio wasn’t around, Lin would have to find something else to occupy herself with, and a mountainside walk at sunset seemed the perfect adventure for such a clear-skied evening. After another brief visit to her room, she was safely equipped with her sword that she tucked into the straps of her maiden’s robe. Ai stood in wait with Ravi when Lin returned, and together, they set out to the mountain’s summit. Ravi led the way with his hefty training pole still resting on his shoulder.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The journey to Hema’s peak followed a scarcely travelled path of mossy stones until the swathes of bamboo thickened and fallen leaves crunched underfoot. They cut the rest of their way through leaning stalks toward the darkening sky. Silver light from the waning moon brought about a muted brightness as it rose ever higher above the world and mixed with the last of the sun’s colours bleeding across the horizon. Ravi led the march at a steady pace, briefly stopping at a moonlit clearing to catch a breath. Stars and streaking lights burned overhead.
Uneasiness swelled in Lin’s stomach like a writhing snake continuing up the dirt path. Perhaps the other two, nearly tripping over one another with how closely they walked, hadn’t noticed that they were no longer alone on the mountainside. The bamboo stalks came to life in a gusty wind that had begun to brew; they swayed back and forth like seaweed on the ocean’s bed. At first, the presence’s careful movements had been easily masked by the creaking and crackles of the woods, but now their stalker had grown bold and the rustling patter of dashing footsteps was near constant up ahead, distant, but never out of earshot.
Something smelled of death. Covering her face wasn’t enough, it was a sickly odour that seeped through any gap, no matter how small.
“There’s something ahead,” Lin pointed out, her voice warped by the hand tightly clutching at her nose. Ravi’s reaction was immediate. He raised his weapon toward a small clearing ten metres or so ahead, where the terrain dipped slightly. There was a tremble in his feeble arm from the strain of his earlier training, though it could have just as easily been the same surge of adrenaline that Lin could feel within herself. A red shape obscured by shifting shadows came into sight as they edged closer. Eyes forward, Ravi dropped to one knee and raked his fingers through the many leaves scattered across the ground, most still damp from the earlier rain. He separated the driest of the bunch into one hand and rubbed his fingers together until they crackled with fiery sparks. The bamboo grove was painted in an orange light by the quickly dwindling flame for several seconds, and it took a mere fraction of that time to register what they had found. Lin’s grip fastened on the sword’s bare handle instinctively; the rest of her body seemed to soften in fear. Nothing could have prepared her for such a sight. It wasn’t the blood that caught her eye. Not that, nor the deep, messy wounds that scored the greenish skin of the maiden’s corpse, nor even the awkward position in which it had been impaled upon a sharpened stalk of bamboo. It was her face.
Torn between torment and terror, her eyes bulged so widely that they nearly popped out of her head that was slumped back under its own weight. Any tears she had cried were long dried. Lin’s throat was too tight to cry out, her legs too weak to run, the hairs on her arms pricked against the white sleeves of her robes.
Her mouth felt dry, yet when she spoke, her voice was calm and unwavering, “The stake is too clean.”
The words felt distant, as if they had come from someone else. Ravi didn’t reply immediately. The last of the leaves in his hand crumbled to ashes and the clearing was bathed in shadow once more. Lin was thankful for that.
“She’s been here a while, but there’s barely any blood on the bamboo and... her wounds-” he faltered, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to stow his rising nausea. “She can’t have died recently. Her wounds have already dried out; the maggots look like they’ve been feasting for days. The stake must have been mounted afterward.”
“What kind of twisted monster does something like this?” whispered Ai.
“No beast has the same sickening deliberation as man. Someone wanted us to see this,” Ravi replied. Noticing the trembling of Lin’s sword hand, he raised his eyebrows and asked, “Do you want to go back?” She shook her head stiffly. “That’s good. Turning back now doesn’t seem like an option anyway. We need to push forward. This maiden’s peace can come later.”
A cricket’s chirp faintly sounded somewhere far in the distance. The night didn’t feel cold, even the wind tugging at the dark ends of Lin’s loose hair brushed over her without any piercing chill. Still, she shivered.
Some comfort returned when the path once again became laden with stone slabs, leading through dozens of wooden torii gates to the shrine at the mountain’s summit. That same comfort was uprooted as soon as they reached the last in line of the moss-covered posts. Their destination couldn’t have been more than a hundred steps away, yet another scene of grotesque cruelty had been laid out in wait. Lin had already averted her eyes before she could process the sight, though judging by the muffled shriek that followed, Ai had been greeted by a much clearer view of the second body.
Ravi was the last to approach the scene. “It’s Tsuya.”
Though Lin hadn’t spoken to the shrine maiden, the recognition of her name was enough for her to steal a look. That which she saw was enough to wish she hadn’t.
Tsuya was propped against a leg of the final torii gate, her arms were twisted around the wooden post behind her and a section of bamboo had been pierced through her hands, binding them together. Beneath her torn skin, the bones had been forced aside by the splintering stake.
“She’s breathing,” Ai realised, starting toward her. Lin leapt forward to catch the woman’s shoulder.
“And she was left like this for a reason, just like that body. If the first was a warning, then this is-”
“A distraction,” interrupted a hoarse, aged voice. Lin’s head snapped to the shadows behind them.
There hadn’t been any sound to warn of the man’s approach, no hint of his presence until his timely interjection. A straight spearhead ran through Ravi’s back and dyed his washed-out robe with a deeper shade of red. The blade’s pointed tip poked through his abdomen against the freshly wet clothes, not quite long enough to pierce the material. Ravi’s face was blank when he looked down at himself. Red droplets began to seep through his robe as it became saturated with blood.
“Blind loyalty leads only to the loss of individual honour. Your virtue is stripped in place of another’s ideals. Submit, children of Han. There is still honour to be found in death,” ordered the stranger. The sides of his head were unevenly shaven, the result of a lazy hand or dull razor.
Lacquered steel plates lined his frayed flax clothing, their colour a murky grey with a slight accent of cobalt blue. His wide grin revealed ruined teeth. Sliding his grip down the spear’s shaft, he wrenched the blade from Ravi’s body and pushed him to the side. Ravi stumbled in place and clutched his left side wordlessly, his training pole hit the ground with a rustling thud.
Lin stumbled forward, “Ravi… what?” She had no time to think before her first move had already been made. Whistling through the air, her blade swung in a wide arc at the attacker’s neck. He leaned his head backward, narrowly evading the blade’s sharp bite. The move offered him no further chances. A shadowy hand wrapped around his mouth and rounded cheeks. He barely had enough time to raise his eyebrows in surprise before Lin retracted the sword and thrust forward, aiming once again for his unarmoured neck. Lin missed her target. There must have been something in the hazel mist of the man’s fearful eyes that made her falter, even if only for a split second. Mistress Mei’s blood still felt wet upon her hands. The cut scraped across his collarbone, painful, but far from lethal. With a grimace, he wrested the sword from her hands and cast it aside.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“What difference would it make if you knew?” he asked.
Beside her, Ravi had fallen to one knee. He clenched his teeth in pain.
“There’s another. Move!” he managed to say, then barrelled into Ai with whatever strength he could muster. There was a flash in the corner of Lin’s eye from atop one of the torii followed by a small explosion of musket fire that left a high-pitched ringing in both ears. A bullet followed by gun smoke buried itself into the dirt beside Ai, but only after opening a hole in the loose drapes of her oversized robe. A few seconds of distraction had been enough for a new enemy to enter the fray clad in a coat of snowy fur, red-faced and burly for its short stature. Bearing a grin of four lengthy canines, the baboon fumbled to reload its rifle with lead and gunpowder. The ragged man edged ever closer toward Lin’s side, the tip of his polearm slick with Ravi’s blood. If her mind had been allowed to wander, there was no doubt the absurdity of the situation would have seized her attention and given way to an easy defeat. Adrenaline coursed through her blood and allowed her only the time to process face values; they were two foes, whether human or simian was a triviality. Skin peeled from Lin’s clenched fist to reveal the blackened bones beneath.
“Ai!” she called. There was a queer look of surprise and indignance on the woman’s face as she peered at the Jishun clinging to her slender thighs. Her jaw tightened, a sly smile of satisfaction spread across her lips as she shook herself free. For all her spite, her eyes were painfully desolate. Fingers tore through pale flesh; illuminating moonlight fell upon the shifted form of a living meigui. Legs were split lengthways and bones snapped only to be rearranged moments later. However agonising the performance, it was over nearly as soon as it had begun, and whatever abomination Ai had become stood tall atop six spindly legs. It was hard to tell whether she looked more like a spider or a hornet. Thick white hairs had sprouted on each of her new limbs and across her torso. She pulled herself to the top of the nearest torii gate with her bare, pinkish arms and leapt toward the musket-wielding baboon that screeched in fright at the oncoming hulk of a monster. Ai gave chase as it turned to flee.
Lin was left alone with a man whose very breath was laced with animosity. His gaze was hard, unnervingly so. A quick scan of the floor revealed where her sword had fallen- discarded in a leafy fern behind her enemy, and she began to reach for it with fingers of black mist.
“We don’t have to go on like this,” she said with a dead stare into the man’s unmoving eyes. “You started this fight, and I’m giving you a chance to end-”
The stranger’s spear cut through Lin’s sentence, seeking to nestle itself into her bosom. She swayed to the left in an instant and batted the spear’s blade aside with her palm. The man came at her then, a charging mass of muscle and lacquered metal, striking her down like a rampaging rhino. An empty pit formed in her chest as the air rushed from her lungs.
He growled like a hound, “Our fear of the dark is one well established. There is much that should not be found. Why ignore the girl’s warning?”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Are you insane?”
“Hardly,” he said with a slight frown, kneeling over her. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Upon speaking the final word, he pushed his forearm against Lin’s throat and pressed with all his weight. Her windpipe felt like it would fold and collapse like a sodden paper crane. The damp stone was painfully hard beneath her. However much she struggled against his heavy form, there was no give in his strength. Dancing stars encompassed her vision, and then the tingling of her limbs came soon after. His knees dug into her arms, severing circulation and feeling. At some point, the realisation set in that she was going to die a very real death. This man was not going to relent in his attack. Instinctual fear seized her limbs as if possessed by electricity; she spasmed in a final burst of desperation, flailing her legs and shoulders with the last of her energy. I’ll tear you apart. It’s you or I, were her last thoughts, you or I. Her body grew weak after that, but the weight upon her chest seemed to disappear. Cool air of the night filled her lungs, while tiredness tugged away at her consciousness.
When Lin’s eyes reopened, they saw tall stalks of bamboo like unending columns that rose into the ocean of black and starlight. The low moon hovered directly above, its Thousand Faces seeming to meet her gaze all at once.
Just what am I doing here, spending the last of my life fighting someone else’s battle? These people don’t know me, nor do I know them, so why am I dying for them? In losing my family, is it that I have nothing left to fight for?
No. I want to live. I don’t need to die in order to let go. I’ll live for the things that I can do myself, for the people I can meet myself. For those I can love, and those I can hate. I’ll live for my own selfish reasons. I’m done following everyone else’s narrative.
A gunshot’s crack brought her back into the fold. Casting her attention to the sound’s origin, she found the slim silhouette of a woman holding a musket over the smoking corpse of the snow-furred monkey.
“You’re alive,” murmured a voice from Lin’s side. Every word was sharp, and each breath laboured. Alarmed, she shot upright, only to find Ravi fast asleep. Dark bags of grey hung under his eyes.
“Hey,” she whispered back. Reaching to shake his shoulder, her hand stopped short as she noticed Sio’s thick vines that enveloped his unconscious body, their maroon thorns biting into his sweat-sheened skin. Looking along their length, she found that her attacker had been knocked clear of the path and lay winded on his side. Another chance at life had been granted by the Heavens, she had thought, but after checking that Sio was not hiding among the bamboo forest nor waiting with that jovial smirk of hers along the stone path, she realised quickly that the vines hadn’t been conjured by her eccentric mother. Her mind immediately leapt back to earlier in the day, her illness and its sudden disappearance. Just what has Sio done? It was a thought that made her sick to her stomach.
Climbing from the ground, Lin followed the nest of brambles and circled around her attacker as he rose to one knee. She slammed a spectral hand into the back of the man’s head, driving his face into the claw-like thorns. His screams of pain echoed over the mountain.
“Why are you crying?” Lin asked with a blank stare, “You don’t seriously think you deserve anything less than this, do you?”
The thorns inched deeper into his skin with every word. She leaned to retrieve her sword from the ground; the shimmering blade was dirtied with specks of mud.
“We’re going to talk now, and it’s in your best interest to answer as quickly and clearly as you can. First of all- your name, who are you?”
“Shinohara,” he groaned in a drawn-out breath, “My name is Seki Shinohara.”
“So tell me, o’ Seki the Maiden Slayer, what was going through your mind when you put a spear through my friend? What do you have against us?”
“You shouldn’t have come here. My orders are absolute, your lives were forfeit.”
Stopping just behind him, Lin held the point of her sword against the base of his skull.
“And why would anyone want us dead?”
“Look through your arrogance, brat. I haven’t the slightest idea who you are. You just happened to get in the way.”
“In the way of what?”
The man gave a short cackle, rough and ragged, between his pained breaths, “I tried to kill you to hide that information, you think I’d tell you just because you asked?”
“And if I were to say please?” she dispelled the hand holding him in place and cautiously lowered her sword. His face was half-covered in blood and tears when he pulled away from the thorns, puncture wounds like deep pockmarks ran from his grizzled jaw to his closed eyelid. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt.
“It all ends in failure regardless,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not sure how many years it had been since the summons arrived. It was toward the end of winter, a letter came carrying the golden seal of Emperor Naga himself.
‘Zealous puppets of Heaven march upon our nation in blind envy of our newfound vision. For the sake of your homeland, bring your every able hand and assemble promptly before our glorious capital, Karyoku.’
Sen was thrown into a state of turmoil when the Emperor rejected the Ten Heavens and declared the country free from any religion or false idols. Though there were many that welcomed his ideals, most saw his words as heresy, and when all our enemies rose against us he knew that there were few that would answer his call. Letters were sent to loyalists, a plea for vassals and landowners to gather a fighting force and defend our home. We came to this mountain as twelve- a company of simple farmers from my homestead in Sen, and laid in wait for any invaders that may have come our way.”
“There are more?” Lin asked, listening out for any signs of movement. There was nothing, even the crickets had fallen into silence.
“There were, years ago. All fell to illness. We hunted the marshes and hunted the forest, and when we could find no quarry we turned to the fruits of Mogu. Sickness took hold in all those that partook. There’s something wholly evil in that forest, girl, and it has had years to spread its virulent roots.”
“So I’ve seen. You wouldn’t be kneeling there with that gushing face if it wasn’t for the same sickness that killed your friends. We came here with the help of the very maidens that you maimed. If only you’d have put aside your stubbornness they might still have been alive, maybe you’d have even gotten along with those of the Hema Shrine.”
Shinohara scoffed, “Like a snake and centipede, perhaps. The Heavens and their blind servants can sink into the deepest depths of the Late Dark for all I care. Ten bastards, one and all,” he spat, droplets of blood and mucous accompanying every word. “You don’t seriously believe their lies, do you?”
Shinohara paused for an answer, though Lin gave no reply.
“Blind, like the rest of their congregation. The Heavens are our enemy, not each other. Han, Sen, Jinha, Won, all countries are merely patches of a greater world separated by our imaginary boundary lines. Emperor Naga-”
“I couldn’t care any less about your emperor.”
“Listen to me, girl,” He insisted, “Seek out the Emperor in the Clouded Sea. Sūdoku Naga will open your eyes to the truth.” Lin shook her head in disbelief.
“No,” was all she said before grasping the top of his messily shaven head. The tip of her blade was driven cleanly through his windpipe. Shinohara’s hand never left his cheek.
The strike was one she’d practised over years with Sio’s puppets of mist, it was fast, direct, and most importantly, lethal. Anything she’d ever hit with such an attack had immediately vanished like condensation upon heated glass. Shinohara did not disappear. His face twisted and turned a deep shade of red as he struggled for breath, gasping like a fish with sharp metal in his throat. A sanguine ooze trickled lazily over his chin. Lin fell backwards in horror, the sword slid out of his throat, and the colours of her maiden’s robe were soiled by the leaking blood that followed thereafter. Unable to hold his own weight, the man collapsed onto his side with his pupils wide and wild. Neither moved for a short while. Lin watched without a word as Seki’s expression shifted from a face of strained confusion to pale fear, and then changed once more. His eyes grew tired and empty, almost peaceful before life left his gaze. She opened her mouth to scream, but only vomit escaped.