The first in a series of fictions detailing the events and the storylines generated from our 2013 European Championships!
Dread Tidings, Part 1
By Shawn Carman
Edited by Fred Wan
In the countless eons that stretched between the birth of the world and the beginning of recorded history, there were a great many evils that were overcome by simple men. They fought not for kingdom or for nation, but for survival and family. They sought to protect their homes and those who were dear to them, and for that reason they fought more fiercely and more bravely than anyone who would come after could ever hope to emulate.
It was into such conflict that the men and women who dwelled within the lands that would one day become the Ivory Kingdoms and, much later, the Colonies of Rokugan found themselves drawn. A creature of already ancient lineage, a member of the Ashalan race native to the Burning Sands, cast out from his own people for his astonishing hubris and lust for power, walked among those primitive lands, claiming all that he desired for himself. His fiefdom was vast, and his slaves were without number. His brand was found on a great many, and their minds were broken to serve him without thought of themselves.
In the fullness of time, the people rose up against the one called Crystal Wind and, lacking the ability slay him, they instead bound him into an eternal slumber, ironically a fate he would have been subjected to by his own people had they not chosen exile for him instead. Their most powerful shamans bound him and maintained the wards protecting him for hundreds of years, then thousands.
But eventually, again in the fullness of time, the secrets were forgotten.
* * * * *
Isawa Hibana walked through the streets of the SecondCity, enjoying the milder weather that the Colonial “winter” afforded its inhabitants. Many smiled at her as she walked, bowing slightly, and she replied with a respectful nod.
“The people of the SecondCity appreciate all that you have done, it seems,” her companion said.
“A priestess of the kami should not seek glory for its own sake,” Hibana replied. “If the Phoenix benefit from the situation, then I am grateful, but I care little for the adoration of others regardless.” She glanced sidelong at him. “As you well know, such things are quite fleeting.”
Asako Ifukube smiled slightly. “Indeed, my lady.” He walked in silence for a moment. “You have not yet described the duty for which you have said I was selected. Will I be performing it uninformed? I do not mind, I simply prefer to know into what situation I am stepping.”
“Hmm, yes,” Hibana mused. “It is in fact related to the appreciation you noticed only moments ago. You are, I trust, aware of the situation concerning the monk Aranai?”
Ifukube nodded. “They call her the Warlord of the Colonies after her many victories during the P’an Ku affair,” he noted. “Or perhaps I should say that they did call her that, prior to her fatal encounter with Asako Karachu. Public opinion has turned quite against her since that happened, I fear.”
“The death of a loved figure, regardless of its cause, tends to have dreadful results.” Hibana folded her hands into her sleeves. “You know that Ikoma Yamahatsu and I took her into custody and brought her back to the SecondCity. What you do not know is that both Yamahatsu and I agree that there is more to the situation than is readily apparent. This is not merely a matter of Karachu and Aranai having a duel and Karachu falling in battle. Something much more significant took place.”
“I see,” Ifukube said, his hands clasped behind his back. “How do you wish to see the matter handled?”
“With tremendous discretion,” Hibana replied. “I want to know what really happened, and more specifically, I want to know why Aranai seems content to suffer the disparagement of an entire city without speaking of it.”
“Understood, Hibana-sama.”
The priestess hesitated. “You need to know the full truth of the matter,” she continued. “My associate Yamahatsu believes this undertaking is fraught with peril and has a high likelihood of death or disgrace. The… asset… that he has chosen to pursue the matter on his behalf is an individual who, in his words, will not be missed if things go poorly.” She stopped and fixed Ifukube with a pointed stare. “You will need to be very careful. Yamahatsu may not care if his vassal returns, but I would very much prefer that you do.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Ifukube said. “I will not disappoint you.”
* * * * *
Months ago…
The night was strangely cool, far more so than it should have been given the sweltering heat that had gripped the land only a few hours before, when the sun had still graced the sky. There was a glint in the moonlight somewhere in the distance, and every now and then, when the wind died down just enough, there was a strange, almost musical sound that drifted over the hills. Raya attempted to push the sound out of her mind, but it drifted in through the cracks in her concentration, sapping her will and causing her thoughts to drift to strange places. “We are close!” she insisted to the others.
“We should turn back,” Ide Kamino insisted. “We have lost too many already! Kyoya and Chenko…”
“We can do nothing for them,” Raya countered. “Steel yourself. We have to reach the creature’s chamber if we are to destroy it!”
“That will not happen.” Raya turned to see the old blind Spider that had accompanied them standing strangely, his head cocked to the side as if listening keenly to something. “It is too late,” he said. “The beast is waking.”
“What?” Raya demanded. “What do you mean?”
Buraindo turned to face them. His eyes, once pools of darkness that had long since lost all vestige of sight, were now glowing pools. They reminded Raya of the glint of moonlight off the crystal in the distance. “No!” she shouted, reaching for her blade.
The monk was faster.
* * * * *
It was quiet in the monastery in the evenings. The brother monks were busy with their chores beyond the monastery’s walls, their meditations, or had already retired for the evening. It was the abbot’s favorite time of the day, when he could enjoy his writings in peace and relative serenity. Of course business often interfered with his solitude, but then he enjoyed business even more than the evenings he could spend writing in solitude.
As if summoned by his very thoughts, the hulking form of a massive monk appeared in the doorway to his chambers. “The guest you were expecting has arrived, abbot,” the man said.
“Thank you, Suteru,” the abbot replied. The monk had a different name now, but as abbot, he was permitted certain eccentricities, and referring to his old friend by his former name was one of them. Suteru certainly did not seem to care, even if some of the other brothers found it odd. “Please show her in.”
The wall of a man disappeared and, moments later, a much smaller, cloaked form appeared in its place. “Welcome, friend,” the abbot said without looking up from his journal. “I trust you arrived discreetly.”
“As always,” a soft female voice offered.
“Of course,” the abbot said. “Tell me, my dear, how familiar are you with the current events in the ImperialCity?”
“My recent activities have limited my travel,” the woman said. “I believe the most recent dispatch I read was from three weeks ago.”
“Then you are unaware that the monk Moru has announced he intends to retire from his duties as the Imperial Advisor and return to the monastery to live out his last days in search of enlightenment,” the abbot said. Finally he looked up from his writing. “It seems silly, does it not? To sacrifice such prestige and position for something as ephemeral as enlightenment? Honestly I think half the men and women who join the Brotherhood lose their minds entirely while studying the Tao.”
The woman smiled. “I was not aware of this, no, my lord.” She did not add that she did not understand why he would mention it. She masked it from her expression and even from her eyes. It was an impressive feat, in the abbot’s opinion, and one that only cemented his decision.
“You will not be surprised to discover that I have significant connections and influence
throughout the ImperialCity, among other places. It is my intention to position you as a contender to succeed Moru.”
Now, finally, there was a flicker of surprising in her eyes, quickly suppressed. “Me, my lord?”
“You indeed,” the abbot replied. “I find that you have an unusual combination of initiative, sincerity, and initiative. You are a rare operative indeed, and I believe you may actually be capable of maintaining your duties in the presence of the Divine Empress without revealing yourself.”
She seemed to consider it for a moment. “They say she is omniscient.”
“Whoever ‘they’ are, they say a great number of things. The Empress possesses tremendous insight, but she is not truly omniscient. And even if she is insightful, you will of course be genuinely serving her, will you not? You will simply be serving two masters.” He paused to consider. “All samurai serve at least two masters, I suppose. You will simply be serving one more.” He glanced at her. “Do you have objections?”
“No, my lord,” Yasuki Makoto said.
“It will not be a simple affair, of course.” The abbot returned to his writing. “I fear your doppelganger in the Colonies has come to an ill end. That will require some degree of finesse on our part, to ensure that no one with knowledge of that incident can compromise your position.”
Makoto nodded. “I… was not aware that I had a doppelganger in the Colonies.”
“Oh, many do,” the abbot said. “In particular there were contacts there, associates of yours, who would have responded better to your presence than to any other. Naturally we could not afford to deploy you there so I ensured that a duplicate was available.” He smiled. “Magic is a wonderful thing, is it not?”
* * * * *
There was very little in the way of civilization in this part of the Colonies, even by the admittedly meager standards most in the region held since their arrival from the Empire. The nearest human settlement was at least four hours ride away, by Tanzaki’s estimation. Perhaps something about this area subconsciously caused others to keep their distance? It was worth considering, but of course Tanzaki was not so weak of mind as to let such things influence him. Where others looked in ignorance and knew only fear, he looked with knowledge and felt exhilaration.
“What secrets lay hidden within?” the Scorpion whispered despite himself. It was a foolish indulgence, but he was finding it difficult to contain his excitement. He had found the Colonies a useful place to gain advantage over others, to stockpile secrets and favors for later use, but he felt the time had come for his return to the Empire, and power such as was contained below would certainly afford him that opportunity. He would present talismans and secrets undreamt of to his lord Nitoshi in person. His rewards would be great indeed, of that he was certain.
The reports he had retrieved from the accounts of the Imperial Explorers had clearly indicated that the incident from the previous year had been centered around this particular outcropping of crystal, hidden deep within the rural provinces of a clan that had no idea what treasures it had overlooked. Tanzaki chuckled quietly to himself. No one else would find it now, he had seen to that. The various reports that were in the archives of the Imperial Explorers now contained significant omissions or minor “corrections” that would ensure no one would be able to piece the information together as he had after month of painstaking work. A few neatly arranged accidents on the part of those individuals who had been involved, and now there was very little he had to be concerned about in order to ensure that the secrets remained his alone.
There was little moonlight, which was as Tanzaki preferred. Now that he had finally reached his objective, he withdrew a vial from within his obi and removed the stopper, drinking it quickly to avoid the smell and taste of it. There was a skilled Dragon alchemist who owed him favors (Tanzaki found the word blackmail so very gauche), and he supplied draughts of a valuable nature when it was required. The Scorpion frowned at the bitter taste but noticed almost at once that the night seemed somehow brighter, as if his eyes gathered every stray beam of moonlight to allow him to see as if he were a creature of the night himself.
It took longer than Tanzaki had anticipated to find the entrance to the secret chamber beneath the crystal. It was not meant to be found, of course, and was well protected by wards and spells from the lost people of the Ivory Kingdoms, but their magic was fading as years passed without maintenance, and eventually he found that which he sought. The doorway opened with much protest and a shower of dust and earth, delighting the Scorpion with the knowledge that it had not been opened in a great long while. The treasures within, his treasures, remained safe.
The chamber beneath the crystal was ancient, hewn from stone and the crystal itself. There were sigils and runes carved on every visible surface, and none from any language or culture that Tanzaki had ever seen. There were shelves here and there, many stacked with objects he did not recognize. There were a number of crysteel weapons, however, and those alone he knew would be worth more than he could spend in a lifetime to the noble families of his clan. His eyes flickered with delight. He had won.
There was a faint stirring behind him, but Tanzaki was too lost in victory to notice it at first. When it came again, so rapturous was his success that he turned to see whatever it was almost absently, forgetting for a moment the surroundings in which he found himself. For a moment, the sight of the blue-skinned stranger, covered in sigils and tattoos the likes of which no mortal eye had ever seen, did not even register to his mind. It was not until the hand reached out and seized his throat with the strength of stone and steel that he realized he was in mortal danger.
“Thou has entered the wrong lair, friend,” a strangely accented voice said in a hissing, sibilant tone. The pressure on his throat began to increase.
The details of the chamber around him swam and began to dim at the edges. Tanzaki could now make out other figures in the darkness, others who had been marked with the same symbols that the creature holding him bore. His last thought as darkness claimed him, was that he was a fool, or he had been ensorcelled, and that it did not matter which because both came to the same end.
The being known for millennia as Crystal Wind looked down at the broken form at his feet. “Tremble, ye mortals,” it said to no one in particular. “I wake.”
TO BE CONTINUED
