The two teen girls raced past the rice fields, having escaped the town of Kun and leaving it in the low dust behind them. There was no one around them; even while running in the breeze the night felt still and open. Kun was a sleepy town of old farmers and family artisans, a town of people who slept early and woke earlier. Now the two girls ran freely, existing as if they alone were the only souls awake within a half-day's walking distance.
Sanabaji Tara, bounding at nearly six feet at seventeen years of age, maintained a good distance ahead of the other girl. Yohari trailed her down the dusty road that ran parallel to the terraced fields. She was six inches shorter but fast as a scurrying rabbit. How could they not have snuck out here for the night to escape the redundancy of their farming lives? The night was still young in their eyes, bringing with it a full moon that lured them towards a handsome view at the top of the town hill.
Her braided red hair swaying, Tara rounded a bend where the road steepened and the town of Kun receded from her view as the Hebi estate came into it. In the rice fields, pale moonlight glinted off the waterlogged bays. The petrichor was still strong in the air, the ground still soggy. Not much was visible in these windswept black plains. Tara liked it that way. Just her and Yohari.
It was in these fields they spent their entire lives working. Their hometown was supported by the rice trade and owned by the Hebi clan. Her father loved and feared the clan, never short of praise for how ‘considerate’ Lord Owa could be. It wasn’t the work, but the boredom that numbed Tara’s mind. Sow and harvest all year, reap their portion, and repeat.
Yohari was from a family of equal devotion. They worked on opposite fields, and planting had been particularly rough the past few months. The two seldom had any time for each other throughout their days, leaving them only the nights. Tara soaked in the musky air on her cheeks, feeling more alive than she’d been in days. She’d been scheming to get Yohari out here for the longest, for time spent with just the two of them. Time where she could smell Yohari’s short black hair that cupped her ears, grip her waist closely and brush her mouth against her lips, appreciating everything about her with nothing in the way. This was her chance.
Tara’s lover slammed into her from behind and they both tumbled to the ground, laughing.
“Your long legs don’t mean you can outrun me,” Yohari said. She always spoke in a bubbling tone, excited and full of young energy.
“Haven’t I been outrunning you my whole life?” Tara said in reply, brushing Yohari’s hair aside from her face. She could smell her from this distance, faint but fresh, like tea leaves, and appreciate the silhouette of her face. “Because of my father, I’ve kept a distance between us. I haven’t allowed us to bond.”
“Don’t be coy, you’ve come onto me more times than I have you.” Yohari’s smile gleamed brighter than the moon. She adjusted a bit of Tara’s robe to the side and Tara beamed like hot embers.
“Is that so?”
Yohari leaned in closer. “Yes. You know what else?”
Tara’s heart sprung. She and Yohari were finally alone, with no one to interrupt. All day long, she’d anticipated this moment. The two of them stared into the other’s eyes, knowing nothing would interfere. Yohari leaned in so that their noses were almost touching.
There was a rustle, then splashing sounds. Someone behind them.
“Who’s that?” Yohari asked, alarmed.
Tara propped her elbows on the dirt path and flipped around to see two black figures sprinting through the waterlogged fields. Her heart sank in sudden terror as the figures made their way past them.
The black shapes burst forth, moving towards the Hebi estate at inhuman speeds. By the spirits….
Wind like a hurricane blasted against their faces. They squeezed their eyes shut and screamed.
“What was that?” Tara said, keeping her crazed voice hushed as her hand flew over her mouth.
“Spirits?” asked Yohari.
Whatever they were, they were heading straight for the Hebi estate.
* * *
Aiya and Koji made for Lord Owa’s abode. At this speed, the rice fields around and under them were a blur. Two stagnant bodies, likely commoners, flew by. Little did they know.
Tight clothing covered them from head to toe, black silks allowing for agility while keeping them unseen. Only a cut-out across their face left their eyes uncovered. The breeze aided in masking the sound of their movement, rustling the grass. Commoners were of no concern, however, and so Aiya focused her gaze on the Hebi estate ahead. There slept the man who owned these fields and the town of Kun across from it. It was much smaller than Kawanura, but then, it wasn’t the capital city. Only a sleepy town about half an hour out by horse. She was faster than horses.
She couldn’t keep it up for long. The night grew blacker around her vision and was forced to slow as her balance faltered. Koji slowed pace too, if clumsily. She couldn’t guess at whether there was frustration in his eyes, but she felt awkward regardless.
When her alignment began to slip, she was forced to let go of the river, slowing for a span of seconds before regaining her speed. It’s not far now. Concentrate…
“How are you feeling?” Koji kept his face forward.
“Grateful Ira isn’t here.” She thought she heard him scoff.
“It’s not right for you to think he needs sheltering.”
Aiya lost her footing, stumbling and catching her fall with her hands. She tumbled, then kicked herself up off the slick grass only to slam into Koji’s chest as he seized both her arms. “You alright?”
Aiya wiggled free, face flushed. “You know it’s this I don’t want him to see.” Without waiting for him, she ran. Finish our mission or be damned.
Even Ira couldn’t say whether it was right what they were doing or not. Even so, he certainly wished for his own part in this back at home, to not be cooped up with their unblessed siblings at home who, unlike himself, were destined for statecraft, and to perhaps murder each other when the time came for a new clan heir.
The thought of them slaughtering themselves in a contest to be named next High Lord was sickening, though it couldn’t be helped. The ranks of the nobility were like a large web entangled in the wilderness. It was bewildering in its complexity, and brutal in its competitiveness. That was why, after all these years of taming that wilderness, it was a mystery that Aiya could still be so bothered by the blood on her hands.
* * *
Her first Silencing was four years ago. Her father was entertaining a rival lord over dinner, a veil to discuss private matters with his rival: the head of the Hyuki clan, a man who sat on the council of judges which was composed of high-ranking noble families directly under the Takasa. Takasa Arusuke considered his life forfeit, having discovered his conspiracies against his clan with a few other mid-ranking lords, which meant at least a few dead military land governors. One of them had been a rat, and was rewarded handsomely for it.
Aiya and Koji crept behind the private dining room door. Ira was often claimed by his illness, absent while being cared for in bed by their servant Kisane. There was a slapping of feet behind them, accompanied by short titters. The two of them spun in alarm to the sight of Asaya waddling towards them.
Aiya’s entire frame froze.
“Little bird!” she exclaimed in hushed tones, bringing a stiff finger to her lips. Koji moved, grabbing her and placing his hand over her mouth.
“It’s okay, shenshen,” he said, turning her around. “We’ll play later. Go all the way upstairs, back to Kisane.” Sadness welled in her eyes, but it didn’t take more to convince her. She tottered back the way she came. Lucky for them, she was smart for a three year-old.
Aiya watched her go, eyes alert, then faced the door again. She could no longer concentrate on the conversation inside, the voices from behind the door sounding muddy. The fact that a child had nearly walked in on a murder had given Aiya a disturbing amount of clarity to her situation. We’re officially trained killers.
Her heart felt like it had blown up three times its size and was now pounding against her chest, ready to burst. She noticed the dagger shaking in her palm. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she could do this. She’d trained her entire life, seemingly for this moment. Now her first test presented itself in front of her. Would she stand and uphold the Takasa name as High Clan of River? Or be disgraced under pressure and cowardice?
There was the signal: Two loud claps, followed by a hacking cough. Her legs sank like lead, but one look at Koji was all she needed. He’d already leapt forward without a moment’s delay. Despite herself, she followed. He swung the screen door open, inviting a smell that might have wafted jovially into Aiya’s senses. Plates of fish and buns and dipping sauce and bowls of Yama noodles were spread between her father and the startled man, a competition of annoyance and fright in his expression. Now the room smelled of fear, and murderous intent.
The noble lord stumbled trying to rise from his knees, uttering unintelligible phrases of surprise as he spat out his half-chewed meal onto the floor. He had quick wits, making way for his escape, but Koji was already advancing to block his path towards the opposite wall doors. The man must have suspected seconds before their interruption that this was a trap. Their father had let it slip, knowing his doom here was inevitable.
Aiya lunged at him, Silencing Dagger held forward like the tongue of a viper, and she could see in his eyes preparation for its fatal bite. He was large and should have been able to easily crush her with his hairy fists, possibly escaping into estate gardens to be intercepted by Jodai. There was no escape from a Ginju.
It was over before it had really gotten started. The lord doubled over, letting out gargled cries of pain as his blood spread down his stomach, legs, onto the floor. The room was suddenly filled with a stench of blood and shit. Aiya didn’t see herself eating here again for quite some time, if ever.
The lord looked up at her in confusion, fury, and behind them both, despair. As if this were treason beyond sanity. Try as she might, Aiya could not look away. Her grip remained on the stained dagger, and she stood as if possessed.
“Your conspirators ratted you out, Ren-shen. It’s what happens when you go messing with the natural order of things. Now calmly join the storms.” Arusuke walked over to them, head high, and spirits higher. A few helpings of sake showed in the red tinge of his cheeks. He stood a few feet away with his arms crossed, his expression stern, looking down on the man dying at Aiya’s feet, whose blood had begun losing its warmth, like a starving orphan caught in a Wailstorm. The same expression he always gave his blessed children, forever stuck in a state of disappointment and agitation, as if ashamed of them. A temperament he played at to remind them of his station. He was a petty man, bitter she and her brothers wielded power he could never hold, a crime unforgivable in his egotistical vision of the world. He nodded at Aiya, a simple acknowledgement of a task well done that he knew would still leave her wanting, then trained his eyes on Hyuki Ren. “Join the storms.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“But, Aru-, I…” The lord trembled as he spoke, with barely the strength to muster a sentence. Aiya looked down on him and felt a sort of kinship, particularly, because they shared the same fate; to exist under the heel of this prideful man.
There was a slight pity in her stomach. He was no different than the other nobility, just in a worse predicament. He’d have done the same in their father’s position. It was a dog-eat-dog world. This was the world the Empress herself had created by ordaining them as the High Clan. This was a just rule. Then why did her midsection churn as her fingers kept a desperate hold on her daggers? She pulled in her stomach, flexing the muscles. For her family, she’d do what was deemed necessary, even if she’d come to gradually despise them over the years. That was honorable.
Still, she’d never gotten disrespect from him or other clans. None would openly disrespect a Takasa, even without knowing her place as a Ginju within the clan. But he’d stepped out of line and would have her dead if the opportunity came. Her heart still pounded with a fright while her senses pulsed, heightened to a crest she’d never known till now. Tears welled in her eyes….
I’m sorry.
She raised her dagger to put out his misery.
“Let him die.” Arusuke gripped her hand closed in the air. It was a weak grip, though he surely commanded all his strength. How easy it would be to break free, for him to be next.
But there was Ira. Bedridden, she couldn’t imagine the horror on his face finding their dead father upon gaining his strength. Koji and Kisane would hardly approve. She would never forgive herself, while burning with shame for the rest of her days. She took hold of herself. Their father completed their clan. He was family. Even if her clan didn’t treat her as such, they were bound together in a way that could not be so easily broken. What a terrible thing to give herself over to impulse.
Arusuke lowered her hand and released her, Koji brisking over on one knee and bowing. Aiya assumed a matching position.
“That was good work. Quick work,” said her father. A rare show of praise. “Remember this day, because there will be more like it to come. What you were made to do was harsh, but necessary, and you have honored yourself by it. Clean this swine from my floor. The Hyuki clan should recognize him whole.”
* * *
The entire province would recognize Owa’s murder as that which only the swift justice a Ginju could bring about. Reaching the bottom of the terraced field directly under the estate, they climbed up the hill on their hands and knees. Aiya kept even pace with her brother, scowling as she failed to keep her breaths the same. She felt Koji’s eyes dragging against her. “I really would make a great addition to your sketch book.”
“Something tells me there’ll be more resistance than normal. I need you to gather as much of the river as possible.”
“You don’t need to tell me.”
Whatever burn Aiya should have felt from the climb was replaced by an excitement of nerves, a dreadful apprehension of duty. At the top, the Hebi castle sprang high into unyielding blackness.
It was a slim white walled keep on elevated terrain, accompanied by a few dozen trees. It lacked the fortification of a proper keep, and a guard on duty was busy relieving himself on the side of a tree. His back was turned. The only other guard rested still as a rock at the base of the stair entrance, an angry red torch flickering beside him. She watched Koji scan the darkness for extra guards, in case anyone had heard or spotted them. Her eyes moved with his. There was only the whisper of wind, and her own stale breath trapped by black cloth.
Aiya breathed in, let go of her thoughts and let them flow down the desired path. A rush like adrenaline shot through her. She jumped onto a low tree branch, landing more loudly than she wanted. Fleeting uses of her power like this were easy, a stone’s throw, but often less graceful.
“Hu…what’s that?” the pissing guard exclaimed, as if coming out of a trance.
Aiya was still, hand around the chiseled blue hilt of her sword. A Riverblade. It was pristine, a treasured possession reflecting the greatest craftsmanship. Two identical blades, possessed by her brothers, made up the three in existence. She gripped the four feet of folded steel lying dormant in its sheath. Koji would take them out swiftly as she scaled the top floors of the castle looking for a way in, while he went through the main entrance.
“Hey! You heard that, Bafi?” The guard fumbled with his britches.
“I thought I did,” the other Jodai replied, apparently wide awake. “But then I remembered it’s always around this time your good for shit-all cousin stumbles across these parts in his nightly drinking habits.”
“Come now, Bafi, there’s something in the trees! Or someone.”
This one had good instincts. The other guard made a noise like grumbling, and silence followed. There was the sound of impact, feet scuffing against dirt. Her head swiveled, but even she couldn’t spot Koji.
“There, surely I’m not hallucinating, Bafi!” the guard shouted, this time half-hysterical. “Footsteps. I know you heard it too!”
“Who’s there?” Bafi called out. He held out his torch. “A servant? Kishi? Goten? Shout if you’re there! Let us know it’s just you!”
Instead, Aiya disappeared up the tree as Koji took care of the now alert men. She heard their dying shouts as she flew through the branches, air blasting her face as she reached the treetop. The world looked expansive below, yet the castle rooftop was still high above. The castle stood three stories, each floor separated by an extended roof on the outside. The curved, overhanging roofs were guarded by small statues of divine spirits, or Kiru, posted at each of their four corners.
Aiya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The distance from where she held firm to the thinning trunk and the castle rooftop had to be at least twenty feet, and the fall surely longer. She pressed her lips together. Sure could use a drink about now.
She couldn’t imagine making impact with anything other than a thud loud enough to be heard by at least half the patrolling bodies below. At least she’d make a proper entrance.
“Heavens damn it.” She breathed in, out, and jumped. Her body flew up through moist air in an arc, giving her an all-encompassing view of the grounds below. Even for her, seeing it from this height was dizzying. She saw torches beginning to flood the premises, Koji having garnered the entire household’s attention. Aiya reached the top roof of the keep and smacked against it, rolling then skidding to a halt. She lay motionless, listening. Shouts from below. Cries of agony and anger. She peeked over the ledge.
Empress’ soul, that’s a lot of manpower, Aiya thought. What looked like twenty or thirty Jodai had come running out of the keep, swords ready and bows bared. So, Lord Owa was keeping himself on guard at all times, knowing what his insurrectionist ramblings would incur. Koji spared none.
She took off to the other side of the building, stopping as soon as she felt her alignment falter, settling her mind back in place. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tore her eyes away from the moon above and focused on meditating. The river became one with her soul, filling her with strength.
Aiya imagined the guards heard what they thought to be some vengeful spirit come to terrorize them. It was common for Erru to blame spirits for things, even for Ginju. Especially after dark. They’d terrified her as a child, like so many children. She and her blessed siblings in particular had never grown out of that fear. Spirits, or at least the idea of spirits, as she’d never actually seen one, had an insidious quality about them that seemed too familiar.
Creeping down the wall opposite from where they came, she dropped to the third floor roof and made her way to a window. Aiya found herself wishing she could simply slip through the walls and be invisible like the local spirits of legend, but there was no need.
There were three windows on each floor, cut into each of the four castle walls, covered by blinds made of thin, overlapping strips of wood. A survey of one of the rooms revealed a mostly empty space other than a couple of floor mattresses. Her eyes darted around her before she moved on to the next window.
Two figures sat in this one, illuminated by a dimly lit oil lamp. One of them spoke every once in a while, muttering something about the commotion outside. Scrolls piled up on a desk in the middle, some fallen onto the floor. Local administrators no doubt. They sat unmoving, still. Too still. She sensed the fear that enwreathed them, even out in the night. Aiya burst through one of the windows and sent wood clattering everywhere.
The two men cursed and drew their swords. Aiya didn’t give them time to use them. She lunged and, with quick jabs to their necks, took both their lives. The men fell, leaving their seat-cushions lifeless. Her hands were suddenly wet, but she didn’t slow. She bolted out the doors and down the narrow hallway which led to a staircase. She guessed the two men before were told to stay put and keep calm, while Hebi Owa himself fled downstairs towards the backdoor. Or perhaps…
She came face to face with two Jodai guards running up the stairs. They boasted deep blue lamellar armor, their blades thin and deadly steel. Jodai warriors, men who made up the military forces of each province with a reputation of fearlessness and brutality. Each came from noble birth, mostly second-class clans. Common Erru were, in most cases, forbidden from carrying weapons, being relegated to the position of farmers, fishermen, merchants or artisans; These were noble men who’d trained their entire lives for combat.
She raised her own sword.
The guard in front received first honors, his sword swinging in a wide arc, flying straight for her neck. She sidestepped, opening up his sides. He shrieked as she grabbed his neck and sent him hurling into the other. They crashed down the stairs, armor not doing them much good. She was on the second floor now, another hallway, this time wider, with sliding doors barring each room.
Three more guards stood, weapons bared, while four smaller bodies–Lord Owa’s children she assumed–made for their escape down the final staircase behind them. Watching the children’s backs as they disappeared, she caught a whiff of burning wood and smoke. Suddenly her posture wasn’t so sure, her stance in a perpetual state of uncertainty.
Those children would die. Their deaths would undeniably be her doing. She couldn’t count the number of clan enemies she and her siblings had brought an end to, yet none of them included children.
She was a Ginju, a tool ordained to be used by her father. This is what it meant to protect her clan, to protect her brothers. The kings of old would not hesitate a second to secure their own families. Her heart sank. For them, anything went.
Her reserves were empty, so she steeled herself, and began drawing more of the river. There was that creeping fear again. Darkness evaded her vision and her alignment slipped, reserves still empty. No!
Noticing her faltering, the guards engaged.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. There was a presence approaching from behind her, and she jerked sideways, barely managing to dodge a stab for her heart. The Jodai man who would have had her life stumbled forth and nearly fell, clumsily rounding on her again with surprising speed for his age. There was fire in his eyes.
He managed to drag his blade across her left bicep. Splitting pain. Cursing, she resisted the urge to nurse the wound. Instead, she scampered backwards and altered her mind. He came for the kill.
Her foot connected with his jaw, sending him back into a wall. She spun to face the other guards who were on her, slicing her Riverblade upwards through limbs, torsos, faces. It was a fight as unfair as could be, like a warrior striking down a frail mob of elderly cripples. Cutting them down, she dashed to the bottom floor.
The sight before her was grisly. The rest of the guards were dead, corpses littering the red-stained floor like ragdolls. Koji had trapped the Hebi clan lord, along with his four children. His wife, Hutani, was nowhere to be found. Strange. The flames had already begun their work, licking at the walls and creating a thick haze of smoke throughout the large floor. The heat rapidly became sweltering.
Lord Owa was left helpless with his children. He gripped the shoulders of the oldest, Shinhou, from behind. At fifteen, he’d spent a number of parties and public events in Aiya’s vicinity. She’d conversed with him, spoken as equals with his mother and father.
They dared not move, no sound except for the heavy breathing and whimpering of the three younger children. The oldest son trembled, eyes hard, welcoming whatever came next. Lord Owa was her father’s age, hair tied back over a face as calculating as any other. Now, he simply smiled, an uncharacteristic crazed smile that spread a little too wide.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Owa asked, hand hovering at his hip.
Koji spoke firmly, though his voice wavered slightly. “You threatened the Takasa clan.”
“I only spoke for the people!”
“You were aware it would come to this eventually,” Aiya said, swallowing any last bit of hesitation. A blade would not do. She sheathed her sword and pulled out the Silencing Dagger, as was custom. “A friend turned foe always stumbles into justice.”
Owa pulled out a glinting dagger of his own. His grin wasn’t one of mirth, but of deep anger, a rabid dog forced on its last leg. His eyebrows furled as he held it in front of his son’s face, pointing it back and forth between her and Koji. “Bastards, who do you think you are?”
“Your High Clan,” Koji answered. “Ordained by the Empress herself, come to take your life and destroy your legacy. None stand in the way of the Takasa.”
Owa watched him for a long moment, his dagger pointed out like nothing more than a pitiful stick. Finally, he said, “I see that bastard Arusuke truly is unable to give up his place, even making his own children his dogs.”
Koji started, stepping forward. Aiya instinctively jumped back, eyes flying wide. An alarmed cry lodged itself in her windpipe as Hebi Owa cut his own throat.