Nightblade's End Read online
Nightblade's End
Ryan Kirk
Copyright © 2019 by Ryan Kirk
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For my grandparents
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
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1
Four days had come and gone since the siege of Starfall ended. Only four days separated them from the destruction that had rendered an entire people homeless. It seemed so short a time, and yet the gulf between what life had once been and what it was now felt impassable, as though the Great Cycle had turned and torn the entire world apart. Asa knew her perspective was overly dramatic, but it felt true enough. Though she had only rarely called Starfall home, its destruction had torn a hole in her heart, an aching longing she felt every time she looked down on the ruins.
The rainstorm had put most of the fires out, but the flames that had buried themselves deep in the ruins of buildings continued to smoke, occasionally flaring up in bright but short-lived conflagrations. Asa found it hard to believe anything could still catch fire. So little remained. She’d never imagined a city could be so quickly wiped off the maps.
She heard, more than she sensed, the shuffle behind her. Koji had been healed, but his body remained stiff from disuse. He had been forced to rest for two days, and even though he’d been up and moving for the past few days, this was still the farthest he had walked since the battle that had nearly taken his life. The fact she could hear him before she sensed him was evidence enough of how weak he remained.
Returning to the ruins of Starfall had been his idea. They were camped with Lady Mari, less than a league away but still safely outside Starfall’s crumbling walls. Asa had no desire to return, the memories of the battle too fresh in her mind, but Koji felt the trip necessary. He wanted closure. He wanted to understand what had happened, to give the devastation meaning. But Asa didn’t think meaning could be found among the dead and desiccated buildings. Koji’s hope was as empty as the buildings whose walls still stood.
She had no place better to be, though, and she didn’t want to let Koji out of sight. He wasn’t even strong enough to fight off a swarm of mosquitoes, and she refused to lose him too.
Together, the two of them picked through the ruins aimlessly, Asa mostly following silently as Koji searched for his answers.
Sometimes the intersections looked familiar, sparking memories she’d just as soon forget. She looked down streets she had run as the city burned, her only protection from the flaming arrows a small pot lid graciously given to her by a dayblade. The streets stood empty now, and the warm spring breeze carried dust and the smells of budding plants, burned wood, and battle. Death and life, mixed together in every breath she took. She wasn’t particularly faithful, but if there was ever a symbol for the Great Cycle, Starfall had become it. The sun still rose and the world spun, no matter the events that shaped her life.
They turned another corner and Asa’s memories assaulted her with a nearly physical force. This was where she had come upon the old blade dying, his granddaughter wailing next to him as the blood seeped from his wounds.
Behind her, Koji must have noticed as she stiffened up. She sensed his hand go to the hilt of his sword, and she couldn’t believe how slow the motion was. The thought of him protecting her was foolish, but reassuring. Koji would always be a protector, and she found that constancy to be something she could hold on to as the world shifted around her.
“What is it?” he asked.
She pointed at the corner where she had come upon the two blades. The old man’s body had been moved. One of the first tasks the blades had set themselves to was clearing Starfall of the dead. There were still many bodies scattered about, locked tightly in places not easily accessed. Most had been gathered and given a proper pyre, though. “This was where I found Junko.”
“The girl who’s been following you around for the past few days?”
Asa nodded. She had rescued the young nightblade and escorted her out of Starfall during the siege. Since then, the girl had been an almost constant companion. They’d even argued about Junko coming with them on this small expedition. Asa understood the girl had no one else, but her presence was yet another responsibility Asa had no desire for. If Koji was willing to join her, she would have left camp that afternoon, never to return.
But Koji’s will was as unbending as steel. At times, the quality was endearing. Today it drove her near the brink of violence. He believed in Mari. Asa had seen it in the moment he gave the lady his sword and bared his neck for a killing blow. She saw the dedication in the way his eyes tracked the lady and how his attention was distracted every time she was in sight. Koji wasn’t in love, but his obsession was just as deep. He had found his duty, and Asa worried their paths might someday diverge.
They continued, wandering toward the gate Katashi’s forces had broken through. As it came into sight, Asa fought down the memory of the wave of soldiers crashing against the thin line of nightblades tasked with holding that part of the advance until the other blades could escape. The fight had been one of the most intense she’d ever lived through. She recalled flashes of steel and fountains of blood, but little else.
She remembered her feelings, though, feelings she felt uncomfortable admitting even to herself. In the midst of that battle she had been calm, ready to give her life to save the blades. But now that the immediate threat was gone, her feeling of purpose had vanished as well. She didn’t share Koji’s belief.
Despite the ruin, she could feel the force of his optimism and hope. He stood in the skeleton of the city that had once been his home. His shoulders were back and his head was high.
They stood side by side, but leagues of difference separated them. Part of her wanted to share his sense of purpose, but most of her just wanted to put the conflict behind her. Like her mentor Daisuke, all she desired was a life untouched by the concerns of the world. The idea of joining the hermetic nightblade and his family grew into a strong desire at times, if only to escape this madness.
Koji’s voice startled her. “What troubles you?”
She wrestled to find an answer close enough to the truth not to be a lie. “What was the point of all of this?”
His voice was reassuring. “We can rebuild.”
Asa turned towards him, challenging his optimism. “Do you truly believe that?”
“I have to.” His voice was confident, but a slight slump of his shoulders told the true story. Even his optimism, it seemed, could be damaged.
They returned to the heart of the ruins where the remains of the Hall of the Council stood, mostly as destroyed as any other building. Wisps of smoke still rose as something deep inside burned. Asa
wondered if there was anything left in her that would burn, or if her fire was out for good.
She glanced at Koji. “Did you find your answers?”
He was silent as he looked over the hall. In all their time together, she had never seen despair cross his face, but it rested there now, his eyes moist as he beheld the once-beating heart of the blades.
He turned around before she could see a tear fall. When he did reply, his voice was determined. “We have to do better.”
Just then, Asa felt a presence only a single street over. Koji must have felt the same. She saw him straighten and look in the direction of the presence. It was weak but moving.
Their first thought was the same. Was there a survivor they had somehow missed? As far as they knew, they were the only ones in the city today, and another soldier would have felt stronger to their gift. Asa ran, quickly passing Koji in his weakened condition.
When she turned the corner, she didn’t see anyone. Asa took a moment to breathe deeply and center herself. The presence was weak and coming from a partially collapsed house. She walked slowly toward it as Koji followed a few paces behind, his labored breathing making it sound as though he had just run up a mountainside.
Asa jumped backward when the presence suddenly leaped out of the house at her. The action disoriented her on several levels. Survivors shouldn’t move so quickly, nor should people who had such a weak energy.
Asa saw the glint of a short knife in the sunlight and stumbled, falling none too gently on her back as a figure darted out of the shadows.
In a glance Asa understood. The person was dirty, clothing hanging in rags off narrow shoulders. Ribs were clearly visible through the holes in the person’s shirt, and the assailant’s balance wobbled back and forth.
The thief clutched at a small parcel in his non-knife-wielding hand. With a few paces separating them, Asa felt no fear. A strong gust would blow this man right over.
Then the rags over the parcel slipped, and Asa caught a brief glimpse of what looked to be gold.
Asa was on her feet in a moment, and if she’d once had any concerns about her spirit still burning, they were quickly allayed as she reached for her swords. To imagine someone would so defile the places where blades had lived and died! She was sliding one of her swords out of its sheath when a hand locked firmly onto her wrist.
In the moment of confusion, the thief turned and ran away. It was more of a hobble than a run, and Asa’s trained eye saw the way the thief favored his left leg. She’d catch him in a moment, no matter how close he got to the main gate.
“Let him go,” Koji said.
“He stole from the blades.” She tried to control herself, but her voice dripped venom.
“And?”
It wasn’t the question so much as the resignation in his voice that broke her anger. She inclined her head toward his. At that moment, grief etched in the lines of his face, he looked like he had seen many more cycles than he had.
“The survivors gathered what was theirs days ago. That man was close to death from starvation. If it does him some good, who are we to deny him?”
Koji. A servant of the Kingdom, even to the end. He held not just to the letter of their oaths, but to the spirit. Her shame welled up in her, making her angry. She wanted to take out her aggression on something, or someone, but there was no one near. Why did he have to be so much better than her?
“Come, let’s go back to the camp.” Koji looked around and Asa had the distinct impression he was trying to memorize the scene. “There’s nothing for us here anymore.”
Away from the ruins of Starfall, in the camp that contained both the survivors of the siege and Lady Mari’s army, the cool spring breeze carried pleasant scents that made Asa think of better times. As a young child, spring had never been her favorite season. Spring meant the beginning of the season of work. Life on the farm was always hard, but during winter the family spent most of their time inside. Winter was when Asa’s father had taught her to read and write, his strong hands supporting hers as she first tried to write her name.
Spring meant endless days outside in the fields. Everyone in the family worked, and even though Asa was the youngest, she was no exception. One time she had run crying to her mother. Her hands had gotten so dirty, the mud so deeply ingrained, that scrubbing them did no good. In her youth, she had thought her hands would be permanently stained.
The moon was out and bright tonight, shining through the cracks in the door of their tent. Asa held up her hands to the light, seeing they were almost as clean as a proper lady’s. Despite the lack of dirt, her hands were still hard and calloused. As far as she’d come, some things remained the same.
Asa was tired. Her eyelids closed seemingly of their own will, opening again only after prolonged effort. Her body cried for sleep, but her racing mind prevented her from entering the world of dreams.
Next to her, Koji’s loud snoring provided plenty of evidence of his inner peace. He always fell asleep quickly, and tonight was no exception. She fought the urge to trace the scars on his exposed torso with her fingers. Younger than her, his body had already been ravaged by a lifetime of fighting. But he shrugged it off as though it was nothing.
She envied him. Koji was a bit of a slow thinker, but once he made a decision, he stuck to it, following it to the end almost without question. She found it yet another endearing but frustrating trait, especially to one who doubted almost everything she did.
Asa eventually gave up. If she wasn’t going to sleep, she might as well stretch her legs. There was no point lying in bed frustrated.
When she sat up, she noticed the flicker of firelight casting faint shadows against their tent. There was a lone silhouette cast by the flames, and Asa decided to see who else was up at this time of night. She quickly threw on her dark robes, welcoming their warmth as she stepped out into the chilly spring night.
Lady Mari sat at the fire, alone, surrounded by a handful of her house guards at a respectful distance. From the lines of worry on her face, Asa guessed she had been sitting at the fire for a while.
Asa considered returning to the tent. Mari’s gaze was locked on the flickering flames and she hadn’t noticed Asa yet. The two of them hadn’t really spoken except in passing since Mari had spared Koji’s life. Approaching her felt awkward now, as if Koji’s actions had erected a thick curtain between them.
Asa almost retreated, but the sad look on Mari’s face drew her closer. The other woman was suffering, and although Asa wasn’t sure how firm their relationship was, Mari didn’t deserve to suffer alone.
Asa silently approached and sat down, recognized and unchallenged by the guards, but barely earning a nod from the lady.
Asa watched the stars as they crawled overhead, then stared deep into the fire as the flames danced over the logs and embers.
When Mari spoke, it made Asa jump a little on her seat.
“How is he?”
“Better. He has several days of recovery to go before he can possibly fight again, though. Dayblades come to him daily, which I think is starting to get to him. He wants to be out, helping you however he can.”
She gave a soft laugh at that, edged with just a hint of bitterness. “He probably does more for me in hiding. His legend continues to grow with every telling. If he never fought again, his feats would still be whispered for generations. Some days I think that all I have to do is mention Koji’s name and the Kingdom would be mine.”
Asa knew what Mari meant. Everywhere they went, people were always whispering. Koji was possibly the strongest sword the world had seen in ages, and his deeds matched his skill. Still, the comment was surprisingly unguarded. Mari usually only spoke of leading her house lands. She never referenced the larger Kingdom. An innocent slip? Despite Asa’s respect for Mari, she never forgot Mari was a lady of the court, raised in intrigues Asa had no interest in.
“The Kingdom—is that what you want?” Asa asked.
Mari’s eyes sharpened as she focused on As
a. The gaze made Asa wonder just where the two of them sat. Were they friends, allies, or something else? She wasn’t sure herself. Asa imagined Mari asking the same question.
Mari’s eyes relaxed as they returned to the fire, her decision made. When she spoke, it was as one friend to another. “Sometimes. Only because I’m sure I could lead. My guidance would save lives, and prevent anything like this.” She gestured toward the ruins of Starfall.
Asa allowed herself to be similarly unguarded. “Koji would agree.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m not certain any leader is up to the task of leading the Kingdom now.” She knew she was treading on thin ice, but she didn’t care to lie. If Koji’s faith was justified, and Mari was worth following, Mari wouldn’t punish those who spoke honestly.
Mari didn’t, simply giving Asa a slight nod, the meaning uncertain.
Asa didn’t want to travel down the paths of her thoughts, not when she’d come out here to escape them. To prevent Mari from digging further, she asked, “What keeps you up at night?”
Mari’s voice was bitter. “Do you even need to ask?” She looked out over Starfall, symbol of so much failure.
Her expression softened and her shoulders sagged. “I am certain that I am the best leader for my house, but the challenges feel insurmountable. What if the army doesn’t elect to serve me? What will the blades do now that their home is destroyed? Why should my people accept a woman as their ruler? Daily we receive messenger birds from the various nobles of my land, but I don’t know how to reply. If I assert my claim, no doubt some will see a chance to seize power, tearing my house apart even further.”