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Goro was grateful. He knew he was special. He was gifted in the ways of the sense. He knew it was their role to shape the course of future. If not for the monks, Goro was convinced the Three Kingdoms would have been wrecked beyond repair. Through their interventions they would bring back the One Kingdom. It was their destiny.

  Goro’s reverie was interrupted when he felt the Abbot’s energy flow over him. He looked up and saw that the local official was being dismissed. The official, who Goro thought he recognized as a vice-mayor, made several awkward bows and walked backwards out of the room. Even after the nuisance was gone, Goro waited until he was summoned.

  After a couple moments of silence passed, Goro felt the Abbot focus his entire attention on him. It was a disconcerting feeling. Even individuals who didn’t have the sense reported being able to feel the Abbot’s power. For those who were trained it felt like being overwhelmed by wave after wave of attention and energy. It was strong enough to take your breath away, and even then it was just a fraction of his total power. Goro tried to remain focused despite the attention.

  The Abbot spoke, “I can see that something troubles you, Goro. Tell me, what happened?”

  “Abbot, the girl concerns me. She is different than anyone I have ever met.”

  The Abbot listened politely. Goro knew he appreciated brevity, but it was also important to him that he explain why he felt how he did.

  “I can barely feel her. When I touched her I was shocked by the amount of energy she was putting out. I had heard rumors in the neighborhood. Stories of being able to see things that no one else could. I went to the house just to test her.”

  Goro looked up. The Abbot seemed disinterested. Goro didn’t understand. He sped up his retelling.

  “I was convinced the rumors were without basis. I didn’t feel anything from her as I approached. Even when I was right next to her she didn’t seem to be anything special. I thought there was no way she could be one of us. But then I touched her, and she’s stronger than I ever believed. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who is stronger.”

  Goro risked another glance. The Abbot seemed unconcerned.

  “Abbot, I need your guidance. Please, let me know what is happening.”

  The Abbot waved his hand dismissively. “The girl has the power of the old ones. I have seen it before. Train her as you would any other. She will find her way on the new paths, or she will die.”

  Goro bowed again. He had heard of the powers of the old ones, but he had never experienced it. But he trusted the Abbot with his life. He would do as ordered. He always did.

  6

  He still wasn’t used to the golden crown on his forehead. The new Lord of the Southern Kingdom, Lord Akira, looked upon his army as they marched in front of him. He tried to ignore his itching scalp and imagined himself as a stone within a crashing river, solid and unmoving in the torrential chaos of life. He straightened his posture even further and wiped any hint of emotion from his face. Stone in a river.

  The parade was the beginning of Lord Azuma’s funeral march. He had died as he had lived, on the battlefield swearing both at his own generals and his enemy. The stories were already becoming legend, and as he thought about them they almost brought a smile to Akira’s face. Almost. But fate had been too cruel. A lone archer, lost in the chaos of battle, had managed to get close enough to the lord who rode upon his horse. It was a shot legends would someday be written about, but more likely it had been sheer luck. When the archer had been captured he had been nothing but a second-rate soldier, lost behind the front lines when his own troops retreated. His death had been slow and painful. Akira’s anger had guaranteed that.

  Azuma had lived long enough to see the defenses of the pass solidified. His campaign had pushed through the Three Sisters, and they now had built a foothold, a fort on the other side. After cycles of warfare a truce had been reached, and the kingdom was at peace again, at least for today.

  Akira ran his eyes over the assembled crowd. It seemed as though everyone in the kingdom had made an appearance, and Akira was struck for a moment by the scope of his responsibility. He knew the people assembled were a minuscule portion of the people under his rule, but the tide of faces stretched out forever. His father had been right about one thing: Ruling this many people was not an easy task. Those who killed for the responsibility were fools.

  Akira held back his tears. There would be time later. Today he had a kingdom to rule, and a kingdom was not strong when its ruler wept.

  He allowed his eyes to wander over the people again, picking out faces at random. His father had been many things to different people, and as Akira’s glance passed from face to face he could see a spread of reactions. Some were angry, some sad. Some were cheerful, and some were plotting. Akira took it all in. His father had been a hard man and a hard ruler. More blood than seemed possible was on his hands, and that blood had passed from the father to the son. Not all the blood was foreign either.

  The young lord knew all this, but Azuma had also been his father. A strict and demanding, often absent father, but also a father whose love and wisdom were never in question. Azuma hadn’t always had time for his son, but when he was with Akira, Akira felt as though he were the only person in Azuma’s world. Azuma had shown him the demands of power. He had never hidden the shadows of the power he wielded. He admitted to his son that he had killed his own people. He wasn’t proud of it, but the only way to control the people was with an unyielding fist. Akira had thought it brutal growing up, and he still did, but he saw the wisdom in it now.

  He brought his mind back to focus. He had a problem in front of him already, and his reflection had made the path clear. One of his father’s favorite generals, a man well respected in the military, was planning a coup. Akira had only seen twenty cycles and the belief among the old guard was that he was too young and too weak to lead. Akira understood their concern. Despite their treason, they had the interests of the Kingdom at heart, which made his choice more difficult.

  The generals had never known the full extent of Akira’s trainings. His father had made sure from his son’s earliest days he would be groomed to rule. He was an only child, much to the dismay of those who wished for smooth continuation of the royal bloodlines. But Azuma had always fought with a close guard. Akira was twenty, yes, but he had the knowledge and training of a man twice his age. The generals didn’t know about the thousands of hours of military history and physical training Akira had been subjected to. Azuma had once said that Akira would be the best-trained lord the Kingdom had ever seen, and Akira didn’t doubt the truth of the statement.

  Akira calmed himself and thought through his moves, analyzing potential consequences. There was risk. But risk carried reward. In this case, great reward. The risk was his life, but better he controlled it than wait and be passive. The best defense was a strong offense.

  Akira turned around and faced the audience behind him. General Yano, commander of the Second Army, was standing next to the visiting lords from the Northern and Western Kingdoms. Both Sen, the lord of the Northern Kingdom, and Tanak, the lord of the Western Kingdom, were in attendance. Tanak and Yano had been conversing in hushed tones throughout the parade. Sen, almost a grandfather figure to Akira, had been a silent if attentive neighbor.

  Akira glanced at the other men nearby. General Nori, the commander of the First Army of the Southern Kingdom, was separated from the others. Akira’s spies knew Nori was the true ringleader of the coup, but he wasn’t a man to get his own hands dirty. He was a brilliant commander, one of the best generals the Southern Kingdom had ever seen, but his honor wouldn’t allow him to do the hands-on dirty work a coup required. If he was concerned about Akira’s strength, his concerns would be laid to rest soon.

  Next to Nori was Toro, the youngest of Azuma’s generals and commander of the Third. He watched the area around him like an eagle. Toro had just seen his forty-second cycle, and he and Azuma had been as close as brothers. They had served together for many cycles. Akira’s sp
ies reported that Toro did not collude with the other two generals, but he didn’t turn them in either. Reports said that he was trying to play both sides of the field, but Akira found it hard to believe. Toro was too honorable of a man. He hadn’t decided on the best course of action for the Three Kingdoms.

  “General Yano.”

  The general stood up and snapped to attention. “Yes, Lord.”

  Akira lowered his voice. “I, in the presence of all these witnesses, charge you with treason. By law and custom I challenge you to a duel. Do you deny these charges?”

  Yano was surprised. Akira didn’t blame him. They had underestimated him. He had thought it through.

  Yano bowed in recognition of the move. Nori was higher up in the chain of command and was a better commander. Yano was the stronger swordsman, providing Akira a more difficult challenge. If Akira could prove his strength, Nori might back down and support the young lord. Challenging Yano in public left him with no options. If he denied the charges the other lords would see a man without honor. If he accepted them, he kept the honor of his name but was still branded a traitor.

  Yano glanced at Nori, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Yano returned his gaze to meet Akira’s.

  “No, Lord, I do not. I accept your challenge.”

  Akira stepped back to a proper dueling distance, studying his opponent with care. He had a small advantage in that he had watched Yano train many times. Yano had never seen him. Despite Yano’s ability, he didn’t know how fast or strong Akira was. It was a small advantage, but might be enough. Akira was confident, but not certain of his victory.

  Yano returned Akira’s studious gaze. He appreciated Akira’s solid stance.

  “Lord, accept my apology. It is not personal, but for the Kingdom. Know that I loved both you and your father. Please tell him as much when you meet him in the Great Cycle.”

  Akira filed away the information. He was being underestimated. Yano wasn’t prone to boasting, so he believed he would win.

  Yano moved in to attack. He moved with grace and speed, but Akira was sure he had seen Yano move faster before. He was overconfident, trying to make a statement about how weak Akira was.

  It was a fatal mistake. Akira deflected the cut and was within Yano’s guard in one move. Akira hesitated just a moment. He had never killed before. It was just long enough for Yano to realize what had happened. There was no sadness in his eyes. Just satisfaction at the surprising strength of his lord. Akira cut and Yano’s life was ended.

  Akira looked straight at Nori, who returned the stare without flinching.

  “Would anyone else care to claim responsibility for this attempt on the throne?”

  Nori almost seemed to smile. Akira was no mind reader but his thoughts were obvious. He approved. Akira turned his back. It was done then. Better one life than civil war. He sheathed his sword and turned back to the funeral procession. All eyes had been on him. It would be a story that would pass through the land like wildfire. They wouldn’t know why, not for a while. But it was for the best. He would start with fear, then move to respect if he could.

  Akira caught sight of his father’s funeral pyre, being carried by his honor guard. A single tear rolled down his eye, but he didn’t think anyone saw. As his father’s body passed by, Akira could only think about how much he missed his father.

  7

  Ryuu was getting frustrated. He had been training with Shigeru for a full cycle. A whole cycle and he hadn’t yet been made a nightblade. He tried to remind himself it would take many cycles, but he wasn’t patient and training was slow. He hadn’t learned anything useful about the sense skills that made the nightblades and the dayblades legendary.

  They maintained a regular pattern of combat and physical training. There were rest days, but they were rest in the way that there was no particular training for that day. Shigeru encouraged Ryuu to play outside and to help out with chores around the house. Ryuu was glad to oblige. Shigeru’s gentle encouragement was the same as a lesser man’s orders in Ryuu’s eyes.

  As the morning sun rose Ryuu tried to keep his spirits up. He would learn. He knew he would. Shigeru wouldn’t lie to him about that. The two rose as usual and Shigeru led them out into the woods, Ryuu following along, his frustration fueling his run. It wasn’t as hard to keep up with Shigeru anymore. As he jogged behind, he wondered what training would be like today.

  They had done physical training yesterday, but today Shigeru didn’t carry any weapons beyond the sword and handful of throwing knives that never left his person. When they got to their usual clearing Ryuu stopped but Shigeru kept running without pause. Ryuu followed, going deeper into the old woods than he had ever been before. He wouldn’t admit it, but being deep in the old woods alone still frightened him. Everyone knew that you stayed away from the old woods. They were thick and dark and damp, and his boyish imagination didn’t have any difficulty creating monsters to populate it with.

  But with Shigeru in the lead he followed without question. He wasn’t scared, not when Shigeru was around.

  They didn't go too far into the old woods. He tried not to show his emotions, but he was relieved. He trusted Shigeru, but people just didn’t go into the old woods. It wasn’t smart. Ryuu wasn't too good at estimating distance or time, but he felt like they were only deep enough in so that they were completely surrounded by the old wood. The trees and plants he was used to were nowhere to be found.

  Shigeru grinned at him and asked, "How are your climbing skills?"

  He pointed upwards.

  Ryuu followed his finger and saw that in one of the trees there was a platform. It was maybe only three times Shigeru's height, but to the boy it was a very long way up.

  "There's no way that I can make it up to there."

  "I thought as much. There's a rope up there I can toss down to you." Ryuu didn’t know how anyone could climb the tree. The nearest branches were half again as high as Shigeru. To Ryuu's amazement, Shigeru took a couple of steps back and ran at the tree. He leapt, planting his right foot on the tree. To Ryuu, it looked like he pushed off that foot, and in the space of that single move he was able to get himself up to the lowest branch, and with his momentum, on top of it. From there he was able to climb branch to branch until he reached the top. It took him a couple of moments at most. If Ryuu hadn’t been watching he might have missed it.

  Ryuu stood at the bottom with his mouth hanging open. He trained a lot with Shigeru, and he always knew Shigeru was holding back when they trained together. But he had forgotten just how capable Shigeru was.

  Shigeru lowered a rope and Ryuu was able to climb up. He was impressed by his own climbing skills as well. He figured that a cycle ago he never would have been able to pull himself up so easily. Training with Shigeru was making him stronger. It was a reminder he was making progress.

  When he pulled himself to the top, Shigeru invited him to stand for a moment and look around. The view was incredible. They weren't too close to the top of the tree, but their vantage point did allow them to see quite a ways through the forest. Ryuu forgot he was supposed to be afraid of the deep woods. The trees here were different, wrapped in vines or other growth. Some had different plants growing out from and around them. Ryuu could hear birds and other small animals although he could not see them. Ryuu wondered if all the stories his father had told him when he was younger were wrong. He had thought at first the old forest was dying and scary, haunted by spirits, ghosts, and monsters. Instead, it was even more alive than the forest he played in every day.

  His reverie was broken by Shigeru, speaking quietly and with a sense of awe. “You know, I used to come here often, and I almost took it for granted. Not anymore though. Life has been hectic this past cycle, but it is wonderful to be back here again. Can you guess why I built this stand?”

  Ryuu examined the surroundings with a more careful eye. While the view was amazing, he couldn’t see anything that would recommend this particular spot as a stand. Shigeru wasn’t using it to spy on s
omeone else, that much was certain. Nothing else came to his mind, and he shrugged.

  “It’s because I used to hunt here in the woods. See the path that runs there?” He pointed, and what Ryuu hadn’t seen before became as clear as day. It wasn’t much, but there were thin worn paths running underneath their feet, places where the vegetation had been disturbed on a regular basis.

  Inspiration struck Ryuu as he examined the space around him. “A lot of the paths come together here. This was a spot where you had a good chance of seeing different animals if they walked by here.”

  Shigeru was pleased by the deduction of his pupil. “That’s right. But I’ve also always liked climbing, so part of it was for fun too. Do you have any idea why we came out here today?”

  “To hunt?”

  Shigeru shook his head. “That will come later. There are some more skills I want you to develop before we attempt to hunt together. Today I brought you out here because I’m going to start trying to teach you about the sense.”

  Ryuu’s breath caught in his throat. It was hard for him to admit how much he wanted to learn.

  After his initial excitement faded Ryuu was confused. There was no way he could be a nightblade. The monks had come and tested him just like they tested everyone around his age. Ryuu had tried his best. He wanted to impress the monks, to show them he was the great warrior they had been searching for. But they had simply shaken their heads and Ryuu remembered being held tightly by his mother after.

  He tried to wipe the image from his mind. Every time that he thought of his mother his vision started to swim with memories of blood. It was easier to try to forget, to push it down into places where he couldn’t remember.

  After the flood of emotions had washed through him, all that was left was the despair of failing to reach his dream and the anger he felt at losing his parents. It caused him to react bitterly. “You can teach me about it, but I can’t do it. The monks said that I would never be a great nightblade.”