The sun rose over the peaks the next morning, but the only way Toro could tell was that he could see the faint outline of his shadow on the ground. The snow had come down from the pass and was starting to collect here in the valley. There was only a little on the ground, but the sky was gray and lifeless above them. It was a dreary day to die.
The snow must have warned Nameless that he had little time to get through the pass, because the entire mass of Azarians was on the move. Toro watched with a detached interest. It was an impressive feat to move so many so far.
There had been little to say this morning. Each man covered a section of the wall, and it was their responsibility alone. No help would come today. No archers stood behind them in the courtyard, and there were no reserves to call for aid. Toro’s only command had been to take as many Azarians to the Great Cycle with them as they could. They had to hold the fort as long as possible. If they could delay even until the sun was high in the sky, it should be enough time. Toro hoped his own men had made it through the pass. The snow that came down whipped across the fort. Shooting arrows would be a matter of luck today. But that was better for Toro than for his enemy. Toro had far more targets to hit.
The Azarians approached. Again, Toro’s men sent arrow after arrow into the crowd. They were to use as many as they could. Toro fired indiscriminately. The whole valley was a mass of humanity pushing against the fort. He fell into a rhythm. Nock, pull, release. Nock, pull, release. He didn’t even aim, just sent arrows flying haphazardly against his enemy. There was almost no chance he could miss. Then he grabbed for an arrow and none were left. He dropped his bow and drew his sword, just in time for the first Azarians to break over the wall.
The fighting was close and bloody, but Toro moved like he never had before. There was no chance of surviving this battle, and when hope died, so did fear. Toro moved with a grace he had never before possessed, and Azarian after Azarian fell before his blade.
Then he was shoved off the wall, falling into a pile of hay below. As he came to his senses, he realized the last of his men were being slaughtered, and that he was alone in a circle of Azarians. They made no move to strike at him, though. Something held them back, and Toro began to dread meeting the only person with that kind of power.
Toro had listened to Moriko’s tales of Nameless when she returned from Azaria, but he had never really believed her. She didn’t seem like the type of person prone to exaggeration, but the description she gave of the commander of the Azarians was hard to believe. But when Toro saw Nameless in person, he realized she hadn’t exaggerated, not at all. The man was huge, towering over Toro, a pillar of muscle and death. Even with his enormous size, he moved with grace and silence. Toro held his blade in front of him, but never had the action seemed so insignificant to him.
“You are the commander of this fort?”
Toro nodded. If he was going to die, it would be a legendary battle. He was pleased. He was a strong sword, and he was curious to see just how good these hunters were.
“Your men fought well. We will bring stories of their courage to your land.”
Toro was surprised. He hadn’t expected such magnanimity. “Thank you.”
“Come, let us end this. I will give you the warrior’s death you deserve.”
Toro settled into his stance. He would show this Azarian the meaning of strength. If he could kill Nameless here, he could stop this invasion for good. Moriko had gotten a cut on him, so it couldn’t be that hard.
Toro moved in, leading with a perfect cut, the cut he had been searching for his entire life. Then Nameless moved, too fast for Toro to follow. For just a moment, everything was in motion, and then the world stilled again. Toro stood there, confused. Had he cut Nameless? His opponent had been right there in front of him. How had Nameless gotten behind him? Had he won?
He tried to turn his head, but found he couldn’t. The world started spinning as his head fell from his shoulders, a sensation his dying mind finally recognized. He wasn’t afraid. He had lived his entire life in the shadow of death and had come to terms with it. He was only saddened he hadn’t put up more of a fight. Nameless truly was a warrior of amazing strength. Closing his eyes, he smiled with pleasure at a life well-lived, grateful to Nameless for giving him a warrior’s death. His world went black, and at the last moment he felt the presence of all life, and then he rejoined the Great Cycle.
Chapter 1
Ryuu woke up from a dream where Akira was cutting at him with a sword. In the dream, Ryuu felt like he was trying to move through water instead of air, every motion agonizingly slow. Darkness clouded the edge of his vision, creeping steadily inward. When his world went dark he woke up, covered in sweat. He closed his eyes again and sighed. The sounds of the village came to his ears, and he took a moment to enjoy the reassuring sounds of daily routine.
The village was small, a collection of a few huts in the woods. Ryuu had stumbled upon it as he wandered west. He didn’t even remember its name. He had offered to help an older couple with chores in exchange for a place to sleep for the night, and they’d been delighted to oblige. They put him up in a room that had belonged to their son, off now fighting in the wars that ravaged the kingdom.
The hut was filled with sadness. The couple smiled often enough, and were very kind, but Ryuu could tell there was an emptiness in the house. It was the same emptiness he sometimes felt in his own hut, many leagues away. It was the void left when a loved one leaves and does not return. The couple missed their son and had no idea if he was alive or dead. He was a member of the First, stationed down in the Three Sisters. Ryuu didn’t have the heart to tell them about the advancing Azarian invasion. He suspected everyone would learn of it soon enough, and he couldn’t bear to bring more sadness to his hosts.
Ryuu didn’t dare practice his forms in the village, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t have the heart for it. It would only be a matter of time before riders came through the village with wanted posters bearing his face. He didn’t need to help them by drawing attention to himself. Instead, he split wood for the couple, happy to help out in exchange for shelter. As he swung the ax he fell into a meditative rhythm, and he shut out the world.
It was past midday when he took his leave of the couple and followed the road again. Perhaps he should have been in more of a hurry, but he needed the time to think, and there was no better time than while on the road. Walking cleared his mind and allowed him to focus on the events of the past few moons.
As he walked he tried to use his sense, but it still refused to cooperate. It hadn’t worked since his final fight with Renzo. His ankle still twinged a little when he walked on it, but it was nothing compared to the nakedness he felt as he walked through the woods without his sense. Ryuu didn’t know what had happened. All he knew was that when he awoke from the battle he couldn’t use his gift. He had tried meditating every day for a while, but when it hadn’t created any results, he gradually stopped trying. Now he barely attempted it at all.
The woods were beautiful. Reds, oranges, and yellows were everywhere. It was almost winter, and most of the leaves had fallen, but there were still enough in the trees that one would have to be blind not to appreciate their beauty. Even so, the woods seemed stark and barren to Ryuu. He knew he was surrounded by life, but for the first time since he was a young child, he couldn’t feel any of it. To his remaining senses, he may as well have been alone in the woods.
He was returning to Moriko, but he wasn’t sure what would happen when he did. He was a different man than when he had last seen her. Not only had he been to the island, but he had found incredible strength and then lost it. Would she still care for him if he wasn’t strong enough? The last time he had sensed her, he could tell she, too, had changed. She was stronger, more dangerous than ever before. And he was broken.
Ryuu’s thoughts raced round and round as he walked. He thought of Shigeru and Takako, those he had loved and lost. He thought of Moriko, the love he was afraid he had lost. And he thought of Renzo, Shika, Rei, Tenchi and all the other nightblades he had met on the island. There was so much conflict, so many dreams colliding with one another in the Three Kingdoms. All he wanted was to live in peace.
He slept outdoors for the next two nights, not coming across any more villages. It was getting cold, but he had enough gear to sleep comfortably for a while yet. On the third day he crossed paths with a military unit, marching to the east. Their uniforms were those of the Western Kingdom, the new conquerors of the Southern Kingdom. He stepped off the road, careful to hide his face from their eyes. They paid him no mind. His sword was hidden on his back and he was dressed in poor traveling clothes. He would look to be no more than a peasant to them. In fact, he smiled grimly, he really was no more than a peasant anymore. Without the sense he wasn’t a nightblade anymore. He found the idea didn’t bother him as much as it once had.
As they passed, Ryuu had a strange thought. They couldn’t call the land the Three Kingdoms anymore. There weren’t three kingdoms. Would they call it the Two Kingdoms? Ryuu shook his head. It sounded wrong. And what would they call the land he was walking in? Would it be the Southern Kingdom or the Western Kingdom? He hadn’t ever thought of it before, and wondered what was happening to the east, where the treaty was being signed.
The sounds of the forest returned as the troops marched away, and Ryuu pushed the thoughts out of his mind. It didn’t really matter what they called the land. The only thing on his mind was Moriko. He needed to find her and figure out where they stood. The thought frightened him, but he had to know. He tightened the straps on his pack and kept moving forward.
The forest gradually turned into plains as Ryuu continued walking west. He knew if he kept going, he would eventually find woods again. As he expected, wanted posters started appearing, but they were few and far between, almost as though the effort to find him was half-hearted. He figured it was Akira’s doing. He had to hunt Ryuu to satisfy the terms of the treaty, but his heart wasn’t in it. Ryuu had taken the measure of Akira and found him to be an honorable man.
Ryuu had been on the road for almost a moon, and he guessed he was less than a hundred leagues away from the hut. He hadn’t been moving fast, fear of his upcoming encounter with Moriko slowing his steps. But the day would come soon. He couldn’t put it off forever.
Evening was falling, and a brisk wind told him it would be cold tonight. Ryuu could already feel it in his bones. He looked for some small hollow or brush he could spend the night in. As evening fell, Ryuu saw the flicker of a fire off in the distance. He walked towards it, hoping to share the warmth. When he approached, an older man invited him to join him by the fire. Ryuu gratefully accepted.
The old man was grizzled, long hair seeming to sprout at random from the tattered clothes that covered his body. He had the look of a man who had spent his life on the road, and Ryuu suspected the old man didn’t have a place he called home. Even so, the man was kind and generous, and Ryuu immediately took to him.
“Where are you traveling to, young man?”
Ryuu hid his half-lie behind a grin. “To the south and west.”
The old man shook his head. “Those are dangerous places. You would be better served to stay away.”
Ryuu frowned. “What do you mean?”
The old man eyed him warily. “You haven’t heard?”
Ryuu shook his head.
“There are all sorts of strange happenings west and south of here. Mind you, I’ve only heard rumors, but when one hears the same rumors from many different places, it’s best to be wary. People say the roads aren’t safe anymore, that travelers have gone missing. One of the crazier rumors I’ve heard is that an entire village disappeared.”
Ryuu laughed. The old man had had him going for a moment. “Villages don’t disappear, friend.”
“No, but people do. The story I heard was from another traveler who had it from a village he’d been in. Apparently a little girl in the village went to sleep one night, and when she woke up the next morning the entire village was gone. Her parents, family, friends, everyone.”
Ryuu served them each a bowl of stew that had been cooking over the fire. After the days of cold traveling, the warm broth was a welcome relief. They ate in silence for a few moments and Ryuu tried to decide if the old man was pulling his leg or if there was truth to the story.
The old man spoke again. “Anyway, you can believe me if you want. I’m heading north, away from the rumors, but you have the look of a man who can take care of himself.”
Ryuu’s eyes darted to the old man, suspicious.
The old man chuckled to himself. “I may be old, but these eyes have seen more than yours, and they don’t miss much. You move silently, all the time, and that sword on your back isn’t hidden from anyone who can use their two eyes.”
Ryuu hesitated for a moment, wondering if he had walked into some sort of trap. But the eyes of the old man sparkled with mirth, and Ryuu accepted him at face value. He laughed softly and pulled his sword out and laid it by his side.
“You’ve sharp eyes, old man. I’ve traveled for hundreds of leagues and you’re the first who has noticed.”
The old man smiled. “People. They walk around all the time, but they don’t see anything, not really. If people would just slow down and open their eyes, they would see an entire world they didn’t know existed.”
Ryuu nodded. He felt the same way about the sense.
Maybe it was the fire, or maybe it was the obvious mirth of the old man, but Ryuu found himself relaxing for the first time in over a moon. “So tell me, old man, if you’re so observant, what do you see?”