The penultimate chapter in our series of fictions examining the state and relations of the Great Clans during the lead-up to Ivory Edition!
The Science of Madness
By Brian Yoon
Edited by Fred Wan
Night fell quickly over Shiro Shiba.
The sunlight disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the chill settled into the land. The mountain felt more desolate than ever before. Weeks earlier, winter had reached forth and grasped the Phoenix mountains with its cold and unrelenting fingers. It seemed to have no intent to yield. Winds howled against the castle walls and dark clouds roiled across the sky, letting no hope of moonlight reach the ground. Torches flickered and limped back to life as guards struggled to keep them alive. Isawa Tsumaro stood at his balcony and watched the lights illuminate and disappear across the courtyard. It left a hauntingly incomplete image of the castle that shifted and blurred with the falling snow.
The winds raged around him, too. The air enveloped him, challenged him, and whispered in his ear the language of the kami. It was not the embrace of a friend but the defiant challenge of the competitor. A vindictive impulse rose unbidden in his mind. For a brief moment, he imagined raising his hands and using his knowledge to match his power against the elements. It was an empty thought, and a small smile crossed his face as he dismissed the childish challenge from his mind. He raised his hands and let the winds buffet strongly against him. He welcomed the ache.
The sound of the wind nearly covered everything else, and he almost missed the footsteps in his room. His yojimbo entered the bedroom and bowed curtly. “Tsumaro-sama, a visitor has arrived for the Master of Air.”
Tsumaro paused in stride. “And it begins,” he said. “The weight of responsibility begins its grind against my patience, and the only way to win against it is to refuse what society expects of me. How can I survive against such odds?”
The yojimbo did not answer and Tsumaro had not expected one. He had rarely found good company among the Shiba. “Send him in,” he said, not quite suppressing a sigh.
The Shiba nodded to him and left the room. Tsumaro began to cycle through faces in his mind as he pondered the identity of his unexpected visitor. Though he made light of the situation, he knew that there were very few people who would intrude on the privacy of the Master of Air. There were very few people who had the right to do so. Perhaps, he mused, it was one who did not have that right. A newly appointed Elemental Master would be the perfect target for political maneuverings, and he knew that the court viewed his political prowess as middling at best.
Tsumaro’s mouth moved in a gesture that resembled a grimace more than a smile. If his visitor were expecting easy, startled prey, he would be sorely mistaken.
His visitor had heavy footsteps. Tsumaro’s expectations were already skewed, as he had expected the finesse of a courtier. But clearly, those steps belonged to a warrior. Tsumaro smoothed his expression and waited for the man to step into the room and into the light. The man still bore his heavy cloak across his shoulders, bearing with it a sample of the heavy snowfall outdoors.
Tsumaro’s thoughts paused. He bowed deeply.
“Seiken-sama,” he said. “It is an honor and a surprise, and I cannot recall any time where I meant both so sincerely.”
Iweko Seiken, the first born son of the Empress, bowed back. “You are Isawa Tsumaro? I have heard the name before, though I do not remember much.”
“It is kind of you to say, Seiken-sama, but the consideration is not necessary. I was but a helper before I came to the position, and it is my future actions that will place a mark upon history, not what came before.”
The heir smiled slightly. The gesture did not reach his eyes. “Congratulations on your ascension, Tsumaro-san. I held your predecessor in the highest esteem.”
“Ah – yes,” Tsumaro said, nodding. “Mitsuko-sama is a hero of the Phoenix Clan, and it is my desire to bear her mantle. Not literally, of course.”
The joke gave Seiken pause, and the heir continued without acknowledging it. “She was by my side throughout the Colonies and I am grateful for her help. The struggle in the SecondCity would have not gone as… smoothly… without her.” He looked around the room and took in the generic surroundings. “In truth,” he continued, “I had hoped that she retained the position when I first began my trip to the Phoenix lands. I understand that it was her time to lay down her duty and I do not begrudge her for it, but it is still unfortunate.”
“Many things could be considered unfortunate, Seiken-sama,” Tsumaro said. His irreverence pushed forth the rest of the sentence from his mouth. “Not the least of which is the irregularity of this meeting.”
Seiken stared at him without a word.
Since I have stepped on this path… Tsumaro thought, and he jumped in with both feet toward the realm of the impolite. “It is ill advised to venture through the NorthernWallMountains during the heart of winter, my lord. It is an even worse idea to make the trip after the setting of the sun. Since I heard no fanfare regarding your arrival, you must have recently entered the city. That is never done. It would be highly presumptuous of a visitor to rouse anybody, let alone an Elemental Master, from his sleep for a meeting at these hours. Yet you arrived at my quarters without hesitation. I say that these factors are unfortunate, Seiken-sama, because they all point toward a calamity that I will no doubt need to corral with both hands.” He paused, then bowed his head slightly. “Of course, I do not disparage the intent behind your journey here. Clearly, the events that spur you have brought such actions to necessity.”
“Clearly,” Seiken repeated, and the hint of laughter rang through the single word. The heir studied Tsumaro. He met the gaze without a hint of the uncertainty clouding his thoughts.
“There are few who would speak to the imperial heir in such a manner,” Seiken said. “There are fewer still who would do so within moments of the first meeting.”
Tsumaro nodded. “From what I have heard, Iweko Seiken is the type of warrior who will not let a few impolite words govern his decisions.”
“So I have heard,” the heir replied. “Perhaps it is for the best that you have become the Master of Air, Tsumaro-san. There are few people who would tolerate such outbursts from their subordinates.”
“There are few that can object to them, now that I am on the Elemental Council,” Tsumaro said, finishing the thought.
Seiken smiled. “I heard of the change in the Elemental Council on the road here. I knew little of Isawa Tsumaro, other than a few facts. I had to know the measure of the man before I could trust him. Hence the…” Seiken gestured to the darkness of night outside the balcony— “—unfortunate irregularities.”
“And have I passed your test, Seiken-sama?” he asked.
“You have not failed it,” Seiken replied.
Tsumaro let a portion of his frustration mar his expression. “The Master of Air has not failed your test? Seiken-sama, let the position be clear. The Council of Five has held a position of absolute power throughout the history of the empire. Those masters wielded powers beyond imagining and governed the fate of magic across Rokugan. These shugenja would not have brooked contempt of any kind. Heavens forfend what these legends would have done if they had been tested, even by an Imperial heir. The position demands respect, even if the man does not.”
Seiken met his gaze. “We understand each other, then.”
Tsumaro nodded. “We do.”
* * * * *
The servant cleared the pot of tea from the table and shuffled out of the room. Tsumaro placed the cup down and studied the shogi board. “Your adventure in the SecondCity went better than any of us expected,” he stated.
“The Master of Air was by my side,” Seiken responded. He shifted his piece and nodded toward the Master of Air.
“Mitsuko-sama was the only reason I believed there was a remote possibility of success,” Tsumaro said. “Only fools believe they can match strength against the powers that lie above us. The elements. Dragons. It was madness. It was all madness.”
Seiken took a sip of tea before his riposte. “Madness? Would anything else have made any sense against the dragon of pure madness itself? It was your research that planted the seed of victory in your predecessor’s mind. Instead of fighting P’an Ku we fought to loosen his grip on that accursed land.”
“That had been a very private conversation, Seiken-sama. How did you—”
“When a man prepares to face madness itself, he prepares,” Seiken answered. “I knew you were brilliant, if only because Mitsuko-san trusted you to lead in her stead.”
“We come back to your test, then,” Tsumaro said, frowning. “Why would you bother this elaborate ruse if you trusted in Mitsuko-sama’s judgment?”
“There is a difference in trust in a man’s research and trust in a man,” Seiken responded. “Your knowledge was never in question since it. Your knowledge helped us bring an end to it all. Tell me, what else have you found regarding P’an Ku’s madness on a man? Does it forever change those who are grazed by its reach? Is there hope for the Colonies?”
The two masters began to react faster and the play on the shogi board intensified.
“Few scholars have had the luxury of finding out,” Tsumaro said. “Of course, there were the occasional Asako who fell prey to their own weakened minds, but the lunacy had never raged without cease as it has in the Colonies. Someone must take this opportunity to study the ones who reveled in the touch of P’an Ku. You could usher in the answers to your own question, should you wish to wield your authority.”
Seiken stared down at his tea. “Samurai fell mad regardless of affiliation. It must be a research group of shugenja from every Great Clan who would decipher this cause.”
“No,” Tsumaro rejected emphatically. “It would only cause bias and tension among the group. It is a sensitive subject, Seiken-sama. The researchers must be from one Clan, to make sure that work can be accomplished.”
“Wouldn’t such a group carry the biases of their Clan?” Seiken asked. “If we were to speak of a group from the Phoenix Clan, for sake of argument, wouldn’t their findings be colored by the history of conflict that the Phoenix have had over the centuries?”
“It could be avoided if these shugenja had devoted their entire lives to the study of the kami in the greatest libraries of the land,” Tsumaro said. “These samurai would care only for the solution to the puzzle as an extension of their life’s work. The ryuma drops to my side.”
“Well played,” the heir said. “I do not like the idea of one group being solely responsible for understanding this threat. P’an Ku is not destroyed and we must be prepared if such madness were to strike again. Yet your concerns of intergroup conflict are valid. What if we were to send three research teams into the Colonies to find out the truth? In theory, we could use a team of Phoenix shugenja, Scorpion scholars, and Dragon mystics to come to their own conclusions. Kyosha promotion,” he said, slamming the piece onto the board.
Tsumaro laughed. “You know the strife that has occurred due to philosophical differences. The influence of Fudo has caused strife across the land, and that is a simple philosophical turn from centuries long past. Three separate conclusions, from three different Clans? That would only raise conflict. I fear that conflict will rage across the Great Clans instead. In check.”
Seiken moved his king piece effortlessly. “But it would be impossible to choose just one Great Clan for such an important task. The others who were not chosen would not accept their findings.”
Tsumaro shook his head. His defenses were crumbling under the combined assault of Seiken’s pieces. “That is no problem. As the heir, you have the ability to set forth a sanction with the weight of Imperial power. Whichever Clan you choose will be able to study and test and solve the problem without interference, with your help.”
“Think of what a studious Clan could do with such uninterrupted power. If the Phoenix were to bear that responsibility—”
“The Phoenix helped you venture into the madness the first time,” Tsumaro interrupted. He suddenly felt as if the inevitability of the conversation was bearing down upon him, and he wanted to bypass some steps along the way. “We would be the perfect shugenja to continue the research, since we have made so much headway.”
Seiken frowned. “Your Phoenix researchers have never been to the Colonies. If they were to study the madness, they would need to venture to the SecondCity and—”
“We would send a new detachment of the finest Shiba warriors to go with them,” Tsumaro interjected again. “You have much experience in the Colonies. I am sure the Shiba would agree to follow your lead, since it would be only possible to find the answers of the madness with your personal sanction. Seiken-sama, it may be the only way to gain this knowledge.”
Seiken did not look at all displeased by the interruptions. “That is very generous of you, Tsumaro-san. Checkmate,” he said, placing a kyosha next to Tsumaro’s osho.
“I have lost,” Tsumaro said. He bowed deeply to his opponent.
Seiken bowed back. “Thank you for the spirited battle.”
“It was not my spirit that was lacking, only skill. We both know that the battle ended twelve steps before this last.”
Seiken nodded. “Yes, though only the insensitive would raise the obvious beyond the veils of custom.”
Tsumaro shrugged. “It does not suit me to speak with double meanings.”
“Yet you do it so well,” Seiken said. “As a warrior, I find the endgame of a shogi game to be the most interesting. Once the defenses have been breached and the end is in sight, both players are aware of the looming fate. They know the stakes and know the outcome, but the only way to honor the game is to play out the hand as it is dealt.”
“Of course,” Tsumaro said. “An opponent who does not gracefully accept the defeat is no opponent at all.”
Seiken smiled.
* * * * *
Dawn rolled by without a change. The weather held Shiro Shiba in siege and it only seemed to intensify its assault as time passed. Shiba Eraki stepped out beyond the castle walls as he did every morning regardless of the conditions. He took several deep breaths as he cleared all thought from his mind. The clouds covered the sky but years of repetition had drilled the proper time into him. As the sun crested the mountains, Eraki began his kata.
He had nearly finished when he first became aware of the pair of men who was approaching him. He ignored them.
Thirty minutes later he was done. He resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from his eyes as he placed his katana in his sheath. He turned back toward the castle. His eyes widened with mild surprise as he found the same men watching him.
He bowed and quickly glanced over his visitors. They were both bushi, and one of them was clearly the yojimbo of the other. They wore simple clothes, unadorned with mons of any sort.
“I hope you did not wait long,” Eraki said.
The young man nodded. “We did. You had just begun the Dance of the Void when we arrived here. If I remember correctly, that is only the third kata in the sequence.”
Eraki raised an eyebrow. “Only people who have trained with the Shiba know of that particular kata sequence. It is not one that is practiced widely beyond these borders.”
He bowed. “I spent some time with the Shiba in my youth. I am Iweko Seiken.”
Eraki nodded. “Yes, I see now. I remember the ruckus when you were here.”
The hint of a smile crossed Seiken’s face. “That is what you remember most about my time here? The ruckus?”
“What else matters to me, Seiken-sama?” he asked. “I was just another bushi and I had my own duties to attend. We never met and so I never made an impression of you.”
“I am curious,” Seiken said slowly. “What is your measure of me now?”
Eraki glanced over at the yojimbo before answering. “I see a man who has endured the bite of winter without real cause. It does not bode well to his state of mind.”
Seiken laughed, the sound muted by the wind. “My body agrees with you. Still, I do not intend to stay here much longer and I wanted to speak to you before I left.”
Eraki frowned. “Me? How do you know who I am?”
“My yojimbo approached the morning guards and asked each one the warrior they held in highest esteem,” Seiken answered. “To a man, they directed us to you.”
Eraki schooled his features. He could not speak.
“Have you heard much about the recent events in the Colonies?” Seiken asked.
“I have heard snippets. I do not brook much gossip among my students, though, and I have done much to suppress the spurious talk.”
“What you have heard is true, and likely less than half of the enormity of the situation. The Colonies are a disgrace,” he said bluntly.
“By the will of the Empress-” Eraki began to say.
“The best part of being the Imperial Heir is being able to say what needs to be said,” Seiken interrupted. “I do not mean to challenge the Empress or her decisions. Her will is absolute, yet the samurai who follow it are not. Madness fell across the Colonies, and it was only due to the strength of a few samurai that it did not entirely fall to ruin.”
“And you plan on solving the problem of the Colonies,” Eraki stated.
“Yes,” Seiken said.
“I suppose the Imperial Heir does not worry about what impressions he may give with his words,” Eraki said.
“The difference between arrogance and confidence is slight,” Seiken said. “In my case, I do not mince words because I know it is within my power to help the Colonies.
Eraki bowed in response.
“The Master of Air has promised me a unit of Phoenix samurai when I go back to the Colonies. I want you with them.”
“My lord?” Eraki asked. “I am just a ritual master. I am no general.”
“I know,” Seiken said. “I have no intention of elevating you beyond your station and I have no large role for you within my plans. I need you, and a thousand men like you. I need to know that I will have samurai of conviction following my banner. If you are willing, you will be the first.”
Eraki’s mind raced with a hundred thoughts — but in the end, it was a simple choice. He knelt in the snow and bowed deeply to the Imperial Heir.
* * * * *
From the distance, the treacherous mountain path seemed to be a blanket of pure white. The view was marred only by two figures in heavy clothing as they led horses away from the castle. The wind howled mournfully around them. The speed was necessitated by the dangerous conditions; one false step spelled danger for the travelers. The delay did not bother them. After all, the journey home always passed quicker than the journey there.
“My lord,” one finally asked, breaking the silence. “Were you able to bring them to your side?”
The other glanced over at his companion. Only his eyes were visible. “Some of them. It will be enough.” He could not keep the satisfaction from his voice.
“I do not mean to doubt your judgment, lord, but…”
“Speak,” he replied. There was no censure in his voice.
“Of all the clans, why would you approach the Phoenix first?”
His eyes were unreadable. “You overheard my conversation with Eraki-san.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But…”
“I pride myself in my conviction. My will is absolute when I decide on a course of action. Everything I will do from here out will be to solve one of two problems. The Phoenix will help me bring the Colonies to order.”
“And the other?”
He stopped to face his yojimbo. He pulled the mask from his face and smiled grimly.
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