《Elements of Chaos [Dark Fantasy - Sword&Sorcery]》


 Chapter 1: Lian - Last of the Dragon Warriors

    Bright scorching flames blazed around Lian¡¯s body, licking her exposed skin, coiling around her limbs and torso. She could feel their powerful heat as they writhed and lashed, but she remained impervious to their wrath. She gazed upward, high above the raging fire to its source, and was filled with a feeling of awe and fear. A beautiful, serpentine creature towered in the sky, its great crimson mane shining with fiery hues as it reared back, taking another deep breath.


    Lian braced herself, her stance wide, arms bent with her fists clenched parallel to her ribs. The second blast bathed the slender woman in molten fury, and once again, she endured. She had taken the dragon off guard; she could see it hesitating, sizing her up, trying to figure out how she, an ordinary mortal woman, still stood defiantly before it. This was the perfect opportunity to strike back!


    Still maintaining her pose, Lian reached into the depths of her soul to where her own wild inferno always burned. She drew that power upward with little coaxing, just as her father had taught her when she was a child. Her mouth opened wide, and a second later, flames, every bit as hot as those of the dragon¡¯s, erupted from her. The gout of fire slammed into the unsuspecting dragon, inciting a roar of surprised outrage. Her blast had done no more harm to the dragon than its had to Lian; she made her point all the same.


    As the flames tapered out, a broad grin spread over Lian¡¯s face. Few had the gall to breathe fire back at a dragon, and the rush of adrenaline-fueled courage made her feel downright giddy. The dragon was regarding her more closely now, watching as her smirk turned into a laugh. It really should have seen its own face, she thought.


    Much to her disappointment, the fight was over. The dragon lowered itself down, yellow eyes penetrating to her very spirit. Its lips parted, and she braced, thinking it was about to attack again after all, but instead, it spoke.


    It¡¯s, no his, voice was like nothing she had ever heard before. The deep rumble reminded her of standing in a circle of roaring bonfires. Yet, in contrast, his tone was gentle and imploring. Lian¡¯s body relaxed, her demeanor turning somber.


    ¡°Byetzu, Tiyomi. Rise to the Heavens and rain purging flame upon the broken, wicked world.¡± The words echoed, reverberating through Lian¡¯s heart, bones, and mind. ¡°Byetzu!¡±


    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    ¡°Wake up, Lian!¡± A hand was shaking her, the words breaking through her dream of fire and long forgotten, legendary creatures. Lian swatted at her father¡¯s hand and mumbled, trying to convey she was absolutely awake even though her eyes remained stubbornly shut. She heard him heave a sigh and knew if she didn¡¯t drag herself out of bed soon, he¡¯d resort to more extreme measures.


    ¡°Lian¡­¡± He stretched her name out in mock warning, as he had done so often when she was younger. ¡°You¡¯d better get your lazy bones out of bed, young lady¡­¡±


    She quite agreed, and yet she couldn¡¯t bring herself to do much more than groan back at him. She was far too comfortable, too warm, her dream too pleasant! How could he possibly expect her to get up so early and under such conditions?


    ¡°All right, you brought this on yourself¡­¡± He didn¡¯t hesitate any longer. A moment later, his strong, artisan¡¯s hands were at her ribs, tickling without a shred of mercy.


    ¡°No, no!¡± she squealed, trying to fight him off. Lian squirmed and flailed against the inhumane assault. ¡°Get off me, ruffian!¡± she shouted in between gasping breaths. ¡°I¡¯m up! I¡¯m up!¡±


    Taoru, as her father was named, finally relented and flopped unceremoniously onto the edge of the bed to catch his own breath. ¡°I¡¯m getting too old for that¡­¡± he teased, reaching over to affectionately boop her nose. ¡°And so are you.¡±


    Still quieting the last of her giggles, Lian swiped at the sleep in her eyes while sticking her tongue out. ¡°You say that about everything¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, I warned you many times not to grow up.¡± He smiled, his golden eyes twinkling down at her with fatherly love. ¡°But you didn¡¯t listen to me.¡±


    She was certain if he¡¯d had the choice, Taoru would have her remain his little girl forever. Covered in dirt from playing outside, running barefoot around his workshop, sitting on his shoulders as they took long walks in the woods together¡­ Lian missed those days as well, when she was small and full of innocent curiosity. She didn¡¯t possess a single memory of ever being alone or frightened and had always known her father would be there for her no matter what.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Lian reached for Taoru¡¯s hand, marveling that even at twenty, hers looked so small in comparison. ¡°Sorry, Dad,¡± she whispered and meant it.


    They sat there together in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the moment, before Taoru finally leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his daughter¡¯s head. ¡°Come now, Miryu, breakfast is getting cold, and we both have a great deal to accomplish today.¡± He stood up and squeezed her hand once more before letting go and walking from the room.


    She rolled her eyes at the sappy, draconic nickname he¡¯d been using for her ever since she could remember, then watched him go. She admired everything about him, from the proud way he held his head to the subtle strength of his broad shoulders. The world didn¡¯t make many men such as Master Taoru the Sculptor, who were both wise and kind, strong and honorable. He had raised Lian alone, her mother having left him to marry according to family obligation instead.


    At the thought of her estranged mother, Lian hopped to her feet and busied herself getting ready for the day. Anything to take her mind off the woman she had never even met. It wasn¡¯t long before she was absorbed in her tasks, brushing through her long, silky black hair, changing out of her night clothes and into the silk dress she wore around the estate.


    ¡°Lian! Come eat!¡± Taoru¡¯s voice sounded from the other room, beckoning her toward the smell of breakfast. Her stomach growled and she gave it a consoling pat before leaving the room to join her father at the table.


    It was just another cold, December morning for Lian. They chatted while they ate, then she helped with the dishes so that Taoru could head out to his workshop early. He had a new commission waiting to be started and after days of sketching, he was ready to begin sculpting the piece in earnest.


    Lian¡¯s day would be far less interesting. She had a mountain of books waiting in the other room to work through. Taoru had always insisted she be educated and though he was a gentle father, he expected her best when it came to learning. Whether it was language, history, or magic, though the latter was a subject much more to her liking.


    After the dishes were done, Lian settled down in Taoru¡¯s study with one of several thick tomes and began the process of translating the assigned passage. It was an ancient book written in draconian, passed down through the generations until it had come to Taoru. Someday it would be given to Lian so she could torture her own children with it.


    She puffed out a sigh and let her thoughts wander back to the dream she¡¯d been enjoying before she was so rudely interrupted. It was nothing new. She¡¯d been intermittently having the same dream for several years now and she often wondered if it meant she was destined for greater things than this simple existence that her father insisted on.


    Somewhere out there was adventure, just waiting for her to come along and experience it. Maybe Taoru had abandoned such notions, but Lian still saw excitement in her future. All she had to do was reach out and take her destiny by the reins. Except doing what she wanted and what Taoru wanted were two different things.


    She didn¡¯t dare voice the desire that even now nagged at her. Not because she feared reprisal, but because she didn¡¯t want to hurt him by turning her back on what he thought was best for her. Lian knew without a doubt that Taoru only had her best interests at heart and yet she couldn¡¯t help feeling trapped by it.


    A distant, familiar rumble dragged Lian back to the moment and the ink that was dripping from her brush onto the rice paper. ¡°Oops!¡± She dipped it into the inkwell, grimacing as a few more drops splattered the page, then she rose from her seat to scurry into the main living area.


    The noise that still hadn¡¯t abated could mean only one thing; horses. Someone was coming to visit and she was eager to see who. She hurried through the house and into Taoru¡¯s workshop where he was wiping his hands with a cloth. It didn¡¯t look as though he¡¯d gotten very far, a fact that was confirmed when he turned around. There was fleeting irritation on his face.


    ¡°Who is it, Dad?¡± Lian was halfway to the shop door when Taoru¡¯s stern voice stopped her dead in her tracks.


    ¡°Soldiers. Now go back to your studies.¡±


    His tone left no room for argument, but she wasn¡¯t about to give up so easily. ¡°But, Dad¡­¡± She flashed her best smile, hoping to win him over with sheer cuteness. ¡°What do you think they want?¡±


    ¡°Lian, don¡¯t make me repeat myself.¡± Taoru rarely sounded so commanding.


    Hearing it now sent a little chill down Lian¡¯s spine. There was a somberness to her father¡¯s demeanor as he headed for the open workshop doors. What was he so worried about? Why did he always get like this when the warlord¡¯s troops paid them a visit?


    Lian stared at her father¡¯s broad back, noting the tension in his shoulders for the first time. His playful nature was gone, replaced with something else she couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on. Fear? She shook her head, refusing to believe mere soldiers could frighten Taoru.


    He cast a somber stare over his shoulder at her, warning her without the use of words that she was on thin ice.


    Grumbling under her breath, Lian didn¡¯t argue further. She turned away and went back into the house proper. Once she got there, she halted, arms folded over her chest and an expression of annoyed disappointment on her face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a child,¡± she muttered, ignoring how petulant she sounded.


    Voices drifted in from outside, though she could scarcely make out what they were saying. Curiosity burned in her like a wildfire, threatening to consume her as she stood there fidgeting. It wasn¡¯t like her to be disobedient, but on the other hand, she and Taoru rarely disagreed enough for her to feel the need to act against him.


    Unable to stop herself, Lian crept closer to the front door. She¡¯d been told to resume her studies, but she couldn¡¯t resist the pull of what was going on just out of earshot. A little closer and she¡¯d be able to hear everything that was being said.


    She was right at the edge of the door and from her vantage point she could make out Taoru¡¯s outline. She expected for him to turn around and scold her, but if he knew she was there, he didn¡¯t give her position away. Smiling to herself, thinking she had outfoxed her father, she remained in position and listened intently to everything that was being said.

 Chapter 2: Taoru - Shes Not A Horse, Captain

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    The clamoring thunder of hoof beats interrupted Taoru¡¯s deliberate focus a breath before he touched the chisel-shaped flame against the smooth surface of obsidian. In the mere blink of an eye, he snuffed the fire out in his hand without a single trace of smoke. The sculptor¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the large block of material, lamenting for a moment that it would have to wait longer to be finished.


    He let out a breath as he swiped a rag from a nearby hook and turned to the wide workshop door. From this vantage, he counted three horsemen trotting toward the modest estate. He could tell they were with the local military by the harsh crop of the horses¡¯ manes and the maroon, silver-trimmed clothing of the riders.


    When Lian had burst into the workshop, his hackles had gone up immediately. His urge to keep her safe and as far away from the military as possible, drove him to send her back inside. He could tell she didn¡¯t understand his reasons, but there was no time to explain himself now when there were unwanted guests on their doorstep.


    Taoru was sure he had no desire to hear what they had to say, but he was not so impolite as to dismiss them outright. Still wiping dust from his hands and bare chest, he strolled out into the sunshine, waiting for his unwanted visitors to finish their approach. As they drew closer, he recognized who rode at the front; Captain Juzo. Taoru¡¯s interest level dropped even further at the sight of the soldier, and his dread rose with each powerful, equine stride that brought him closer.


    ¡°Hail, Master Taoru!¡± Juzo called out as he reined in his horse. The captain and his escort slowed to a halt. Juzo kicked out of the saddle to the ground and passed his mount off. He then fixed a charismatic, broad grin onto his face and strutted confidently toward the waiting, older man. ¡°I hope the morning is treating you well?¡±


    Recognizing that he was about to receive a recruitment pitch, Taoru braced himself. Outwardly, he remained hospitable. ¡°It is a fine morning, Captain. What brings you out here so early?¡±


    A familiar tingle at the back of his neck alerted Taoru that his daughter was nearby. No doubt she had heard the horses and came to investigate. She should have been studying, which is why she was hanging back near the front of the house. Close enough to hear what was going on, but far enough away that she didn¡¯t think her father would detect her presence; she was wrong. Perhaps it was his grasp of magic or a sixth sense he¡¯d developed being a single parent; there wasn¡¯t much she did that escaped his notice.


    ¡°Business, I¡¯m afraid.¡± If Juzo was aware of Lian, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Every day, Warlord Tzulan¡¯s armies creep toward our southern border. They¡¯ve already completed the road through the Rotted Wood. It won¡¯t be long now before they¡¯re stamping at our walls. We need¡ª¡±


    Taoru was already well aware of everything Juzo told him. The entire subject made him tired, however. It had been this way for the last year or more. Warlord Nagisa was recruiting as many willing, able-bodied souls as she could. She had not begun conscripting those living in her territory, but Taoru was certain it would happen soon.


    Personally, he had made a point never to get involved in the squabbling feuds of the warlords. Their land disputes went back for hundreds of years, since the last emperor¡¯s reign ended. In all that time, the proud Hiryuten family, once known as the Dragon Warriors or Tiyomi, had never sided with any of them. Even though they, like the other Zosara, had gone into hiding, they remained apart from such petty affairs.


    There was no way of explaining that to Captain Juzo in terms he could understand. It wasn¡¯t just tradition; it was a matter of pride and honor. The Dragon Warriors were among the fiercest fire Zosara to have ever lived. They had many traditions and beliefs that they lived by. Or at least they had long ago.


    Since the fall of the Qin Empire, much had changed in the world, especially for the Conclave of Zozatai. Taoru himself had never known a time when the Zosara lived freely and had only heard tales passed down from generation to generation about the days when the Dragon Warriors were in their prime. All the same, those traditions mattered to him; he was not about to be the first in such a long line to break them.


    ¡°I¡¯m a simple man, Captain.¡± Taoru had known what he would say the moment he¡¯d seen the soldiers coming. ¡°I live to raise my daughter and fill the world with art. I am not a soldier.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    At the mention of Lian, the captain¡¯s gaze flicked to the open workshop door, betraying that he knew she was there. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her at the recruitment rallies,¡± Juzo remarked. ¡°She¡¯s quite spirited, your daughter.¡±


    Taoru¡¯s expression hardened by a fraction at the way Juzo said it, at the implications being made. ¡°She is not a soldier, either.¡±


    ¡°Come now, Taoru.¡± He sounded almost impatient. ¡°She¡¯s barely twenty; she has plenty of time to choose her path. Perhaps¡ª¡± He stopped talking the second he realized his mistake. Tension marked the older man¡¯s face; he had crossed a line. Immediately, he changed tactics. ¡°I mean no offense, Master Taoru. Surely, a man as wise as you can recognize that Warlord Tzulan is no ordinary conqueror. He¡¯s a cruel, twisted savage¡ª¡±


    Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Taoru held up his hand to cut Juzo off before he could slip any further into his rant. ¡°I appreciate you stopping by, Captain. If there is nothing else, I¡¯d like to get back to work.¡±


    Juzo looked momentarily deflated but quickly regained himself. ¡°If... I may ask.¡± He took a step away from his entourage, his demeanor shifting to a more humble visage. ¡°May I call on Lian?¡±


    ¡°For what purpose?¡± Taoru growled the question, fire burning in his golden eyes again. It didn¡¯t matter how politely Juzo stated the question; the sheer audacity that he had dared do so, after having just criticized Taoru as a parent, was infuriating enough.


    ¡°It¡¯s... personal, sir.¡± He bowed his head sheepishly. ¡°As I said before, she is quite spirited and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Spirited¡­¡± Taoru¡¯s gaze narrowed, his jaw tightening. ¡°She¡¯s not a horse, Captain.¡±


    Juzo was visibly taken aback. His mouth flopped open and closed, his eyes flicking wildly as he tried to come up with something else to say. To make matters worse, a snorted giggle came from the workshop that only made the captain blush. ¡°Forgive my impertinence...¡± Juzo suddenly couldn¡¯t look Taoru in the eye anymore. ¡°I believe I will take what¡¯s left of my dignity and return to town... Thank you, Master Taoru, for your time.¡± He bowed hastily and then stepped over to his waiting comrades.


    The other two men were trying to hide their smirks and failing. Juzo flashed them both a sour glare as he mounted his horse.


    Once the three of them had turned and started back down the path, Taoru grinned. He remembered being a foolish young man; perhaps that was why he had become so protective of his daughter. He knew what foolish young men were capable of. After all, had he been more sensible in his youth, he would have become a father under very different circumstances. Not that he had a single regret. Lian was everything to him.


    ¡°I thought I taught you to sneak better than that...¡± He smirked, glancing over his shoulder as Lian crept into the doorway. Her eyes, the same fiery gold as his, glittered with mirth.


    ¡°Yes, well.¡± She joined him outside and elbowed him. ¡°You know us horses... all hooves.¡±


    Taoru let out a bark of laughter, then swung his arm around his daughter¡¯s neck, pulling her against his side into a warm hug. He placed a kiss on top of her head. ¡°What do you say we forget about being productive today and hike up to the Peak? We can do a little training, work on those hooves...¡±


    Lian beamed up at him. ¡°Whoever loses sparring has to cook dinner?¡±


    ¡°Deal!¡± Taoru didn¡¯t hesitate; Lian had never beaten him in a spar yet.


    As she bounded off to the house to change, Taoru turned his attention back to the figures of the retreating soldiers just as they disappeared from view around a stand of barren trees.


    There were more things at work here than the captain¡¯s budding admiration, though that alone was enough to make any father worry. The coming conflict between Nagisa and Tzulan would only get worse. While Taoru was probably too old to be drafted into service, Lian was not. This simple fact cut through the man¡¯s heart, lodging a permanent, icy fear into his chest.


    Since the moment a handmaid had shown up with a swaddled baby girl and a letter of explanation, Taoru had thought only of caring for his daughter. She was technically an adult now, and while many would congratulate him on raising her successfully, he still saw that tiny, helpless infant squirming and fussing in the woman¡¯s arms. It wasn¡¯t until he¡¯d accepted her and held Lian against his chest for the first time that she had quieted. Gazing down into her teary, gold eyes had changed him forever. He had vowed to her then she would always be his highest priority.


    For the first time in nearly twenty years of living in Baisho Province, Taoru considered leaving. He had built a successful business and reputation here, and yet if it meant saving his daughter from being conscripted, Taoru would leave it all behind without a shred of remorse.


    ¡°Dad! Are you coming?¡± Lian¡¯s impatient voice dragged him back to the moment. She was stepping off the porch, having changed into a slitted dress and pants made of rougher fabric than what she would wear around the estate or into town. Her hiking pack was slung over one shoulder and her hair drawn up into the Hiryuten family¡¯s traditional topknot. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± He moved from his position and untied the sleeves of his tunic from around his hips so he could slip the garment over his torso again. Even in winter he was hot blooded enough that he couldn¡¯t stand the heat of wearing the thick cloth while he worked. Lian¡¯s beaming face had brought him a measure of comfort and he found a little of the dread easing away. He knew a hard conversation was going to be necessary, and that was why they were taking the day off. What he had to say was better said on top of a mountain.

 Chapter 3: Wujun - Its For Your Safety

    LATE NOVEMBER 844 AQE


    Wujun was dying of boredom. He heaved a long, drawn-out sigh and slouched down in his seat, idly bouncing his knee. This was the longest, dullest carriage ride he¡¯d endured in his entire life. They had started out three days ago and he wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d survived this long!


    ¡°Please, Master Wujun,¡± his stuffy, wisp of a tutor drawled. ¡°Such wiggling is unbecoming a young man of your stature.¡±


    It was a mild rebuke. This was Goratsu¡¯s way, to be vague and subtle. It was a horrible habit for a teacher, Wujun thought, not that anyone would have asked his opinion. Nobody asked his opinion on anything. They treated him with the utmost respect, they made sure he was cared for, but otherwise he was ignored.


    He stilled his knee. ¡°Well, for some reason you won¡¯t let me draw back the curtain so I can see outside¡­¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°Grousing,¡± he said in that same dead tone, ¡°is likewise unbecoming. If you¡¯re so restless, young Master, you could dedicate the time to studying.¡±


    Reading in a stuffy carriage was the last thing Wujun wanted to be doing. Goratsu and even Wujun¡¯s constant shadow, Soki, seemed content to sit in silence, but for him it felt like torture. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why we had to leave the capital at all,¡± he grumbled under his breath.


    The old man made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. ¡°Must we have this conversation again, young Master? I assure you the outcome will remain the same.¡±


    Wujun wanted to shout that they would have the conversation as many times as he wanted, but such outbursts would get him nowhere. Especially with Goratsu. He glanced over at Soki, but the young bodyguard did not meet his gaze. She did not question orders. To her, duty was as clear as a cloudless, sunny day in summer. To Wujun, however, it was less about duty and more about the rock his handlers insisted he live under.


    They have left me in the dark since I was a child, but I¡¯m not a little boy anymore¡­


    Even when they saw fit to share information with Wujun, they rarely gave him a complete picture. As a small child, he often asked about his parents, wondering why other children had mothers and fathers, but he didn¡¯t. Finally, his nursemaid had relented and broken the news that his parents were long dead. His mother died giving birth to him and his father only a few weeks later, wracked with grief, had taken his own life.


    ¡°Not to worry,¡± she had told him, ¡°They left you a considerable estate and their close allies will always watch over you.¡±


    Wujun had been five years old then. He still remembered it as though it had happened yesterday. That nursemaid had been dismissed shortly after. Apparently, telling him even that much had been forbidden. Wujun wasn¡¯t sure if he should be grateful or not. Had she told him out of kindness or simply to hurt him so that he would stop badgering her?


    To this day, he still didn¡¯t know who his father¡¯s allies were or why they looked after him. He had been barely older than ten when Soki came to live with him. She was only a year older and had always been very somber and flat. He couldn¡¯t recall having ever seen her smile, though he tried every chance he got to unlock her sense of humor. Surely it existed, buried deep within the small-framed young woman?


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she broke the thick silence with her soft voice, ¡°he¡¯d complain less if you let him part the curtain.¡± It was not a question.


    Goratsu glared across the small space at Soki. She stared blankly back at him with her dark, hard eyes. It wasn¡¯t often that she spoke up for Wujun but when she did, it had an impact. At least with Goratsu. It always made him wonder who was ultimately in charge here.


    ¡°Very well¡­¡± The bony, old tutor sniffed dismissively and returned his gaze to the thick tome resting on his narrow lap. ¡°But only a little, young Master.¡±


    A wide grin spread across Wujun¡¯s youthful, round face and he hastily bowed his head in gratitude. ¡°Yes, sir!¡± he chirped gleefully, already reaching for the silken fabric to draw it back enough that he could just make out the passing scenery outside the carriage.


    Time did not crawl anymore now that he could better occupy himself. He would have to thank Soki later, when Goratsu wouldn¡¯t be around to chastise him for being overly familiar with his servants. Wujun had always thought of her as a friend, though he knew her official station was beneath his.


    Such thoughts drifted away the longer he stared out the window. He had studied his share of maps and from an academic point of view knew the bounds of Sunaizo Province like the back of his hand. Yet he was surprised to see trees and sparse woodlands. They were much further north than he originally thought. The capital had been built on flatland prairies near a large lake that was fed from a mountain river. From what he could see, they were entering foothills.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    But why? Why did we leave?


    There was no point in opening his mouth to ask either of his companions. Soki wouldn¡¯t respond at all and Goratsu would only huff the barest remark. Internally, Wujun heaved another deep sigh. They called him ¡°Master¡± and yet they were the only ones making decisions in his life. He couldn¡¯t help but feel like the practice was all wrong and yet it had always been this way.


    Will I ever have control of my destiny?


    These thoughts did not abate as they traveled on. It wasn¡¯t until late in the afternoon, the sun already sinking below the meager tree line, that Wujun was distracted by something else. Slowly, the scattering of conifers turned into the occasional house or barn. Then, eventually, he saw the signs of a country town.


    He nearly jumped out of his seat with excitement but controlled the impulse. He did, however, lean forward so that his face was pressed close to the curtain. Soki¡¯s hand tugged him back and he sighed a little at the unspoken restriction. She had given him an inch; best to be grateful instead of trying to turn it into a mile.


    Given his limited vantage, he could see the town was of a moderate size. Not a major hub of activity, but still the houses were stacked together and what businesses he glimpsed appeared in good repair, suggesting that they were wealthy enough to maintain their storefronts.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± The question slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself.


    Goratsu sniffed, making Wujun wait as he finished the page he was reading. Even then, ¡°Tiguri,¡± was his only reply.


    That was enough, though. Wujun dug back in his memory at the map of the province and frowned to himself. They were more northwest than he¡¯d originally guessed, but it still explained the foothills. He leaned back, his eyes on the buildings and streets rolling by, and allowed his mind to wander.


    Why are we so far north? Why did we leave the capital? There¡¯s something they¡¯re not telling me. Why? Do they think I can¡¯t handle the truth? They trained me to remain calm under pressure, to think even in a crisis. So why keep things from me? It makes no sense!


    These thoughts carried him through the town and then past the garish red wooden gates to the estate that was his new home. The house stood on top of a grassy hill with an aged oak tree casting shade over the east side of the structure. Had it not been late autumn and the leaves already fallen, leaving the trees bare and the ground covered in dull, brown foliage, the scene would have been breathtaking.


    Arriving at the cottage was not as exciting as it should have been. Wujun was too sullen to enjoy the view of nature and architecture. It was clear this place was meant as a luxurious summer retreat for some snobby noble and he wondered who he owed a favor to. Or did he own this exquisitely splendid place? Had they sold his estate in the capital?


    He couldn¡¯t help but frown, even as he wandered by the stables where the horses would be kept. Normally, he enjoyed spending time in the barn, but today he was content to wallow in his sour mood.


    Behind him, as faithful as an old hound, Soki trailed protectively. She was the only reason he was permitted to explore the grounds while the servants unloaded his belongings and prepared the evening meal. Without her, he would be stuck in the house, gazing at the grounds through a windowpane.


    Had it always been this way? Had he always been so sheltered? So stifled?


    He called on his deepest memories, wanting more than anything to tug even one to the surface of him as a carefree child. He couldn¡¯t remember ever running through the trees, getting covered in mud, or having a devoted parent to wipe his tears away when he hurt himself. His only memories were of pointless daydreams. Even now, at nineteen, he wasted his time wishing he was free to decide his fate.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like it here.¡± Soki¡¯s toneless voice dragged him from the depths of his childish brooding. She did not phrase it as a question, but as an observation.


    He let out a sigh and shook his head. ¡°The view is nice, the house is lovely¡­ I just don¡¯t understand why we¡¯re here and why nobody will ever give me any straight answers.¡± He stopped at the edge of the grounds, where an intricate wall stood barring his path and his vision of the outside world.


    ¡°It¡¯s for your safe¡ª¡±


    ¡°If I hear someone say that to me one more time, so help me, Soki, I¡¯m going to come unhinged,¡± he snapped, his tone far more gruff than it usually was. Even without looking at her, he could hear her mouth snap shut, her teeth clicking together.


    She did not turn away and yet he knew he¡¯d ruined the chance to speak with her further. Soki did not tolerate such outbursts from anyone, not even him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± he tried, despite the futility of his efforts. ¡°I¡¯m just tired¡­¡± It wasn¡¯t entirely a lie; the trip and his frustration had worn him out. Despite the measure of truth, he couldn¡¯t help feeling that the words were a hollow excuse.


    Why must I apologize to her? I wouldn¡¯t be irritated if they would treat me like an adult and tell me the truth!


    His mood darkened even more. Soki was the closest thing he had to a friend and yet, moments like this, reminded him how utterly alone he really was. His mind drifted and a few seconds later he caught himself wondering what it would be like to have a proper friend. Like parents, he had never experienced friendship either. On a gloomy day like this, it made his heart heavier.


    Without a word, Soki signaled that his chance to explore had expired. She pivoted and started toward the house, not looking back, knowing he would follow the silent command.


    Perhaps someday I won¡¯t.


    The notion flitted through his mind as he fell into step, obeying as easily as a trained dog. What would happen if he disobeyed? What would they do if he tried to take control? For the first time in his life, Wujun began plotting rebellion.

 Chapter 4: Lian - Anger Has No Place In Your Heart

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Hiking up Red Fang Peak was an activity Lian and Taoru had shared almost since she was old enough to walk. As she grew, they explored higher and higher. Just two years ago, they had finally climbed the last stretch and camped on the summit. Not that the journey was difficult; it was more a milestone they had agreed upon as a rite of passage to mark Lian¡¯s adulthood.


    Today, they wouldn¡¯t be doing anything so extensive. Just a couple miles up was a mountain lake fed by a lazy waterfall. It was one of their favorite places to train, as it was secluded enough that there was little fear of their magic being discovered.


    Lian could tell by the way Taoru hung back a few feet and by his unusual silence that his mind was on something else. Why had Captain Juzo¡¯s visit bothered him so deeply? Was it because the oafish soldier asked after Lian personally? Or was Taoru concerned with the coming war?


    She knew very well their family¡¯s heritage and culture, how the Dragon Warriors had refused to take sides after the Qin Empire fell. Lian didn¡¯t care about that. She cared about defending her home from savages whose only goal was to ravage all the places she held dear, like Red Fang Peak.


    Getting Taoru to understand that felt like an impossible task, though. Maybe that¡¯s what weighed on him, the possibility his daughter would leave to fight in the war? She was an adult now; she didn¡¯t need his permission. However, Lian had never gone against her father¡¯s wishes before. She¡¯d always respected his rules and sought to honor him to the best of her ability. Sure, she had disagreed with him a time or two, but in the end, she ultimately obeyed.


    She paused on the trail and glanced back as Taoru picked his way around a bulging root. He was still the proud, powerful man she¡¯d always known, but today, for the first time, she saw his age. In her memory, his hair was as black as the night sky, and now it was flecked with streaks of gray. The faintest trace of laugh lines was visible at the corner of his eyes, and the manner in which he furrowed his brow in concentration made him look far older than his forty-odd years. It made something inside of her twinge with fear.


    My father is timeless and infallible.


    The thought came unbidden and lingered over Lian¡¯s heart, a mantra that she would not relinquish. She refused to admit such a notion was flawed, that no one could ever live up to such a standard. Someday, whether it be time itself or an enemy¡¯s blade, Taoru would be taken from her. Against that reality, Lian remained impervious. Just as the dragon¡¯s flame had failed to penetrate her defenses in her dream, so too did the terrible fate of mortality rebound off of her.


    ¡°Why so slow, old man?¡± she taunted over her shoulder. ¡°Maybe today I¡¯ll finally whoop you!¡±


    A familiar spark flashed in Taoru¡¯s eyes, and a mischievous grin tugged at his thin lips. ¡°Maybe you will,¡± came his retort, ¡°or maybe you¡¯ll be cooking and doing the dishes both tonight!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re on!¡± Lian spun around and quickened her pace up the hill. They were close to the lake now, and she was eager to beat Taoru.


    Moments later, she had reached their destination. The lake itself was not terribly large. She could stand on one edge of its shore and see across the crystal clear water all the way to the other side where a stand of lush pines and aspens had grown undisturbed for centuries. There was a path between those trees that wound its way upward to the summit of the mountain. The trail would have taken the rest of the day to traverse at least.


    Lian dropped her bag down on a boulder near the water¡¯s edge and turned just in time to see Taoru striding out of the tree line behind her. She didn¡¯t give him the time to unburden himself likewise and launched immediately into a flurry of attacks that hurled balls of crackling fire with each jab of her fist. He must have expected this, for he lazily dodged out of the way, rolling forward to avoid the onslaught before coming back to his feet near the very boulders where she had deposited her supplies.


    He regarded her with half a smirk on his face, setting his bag down beside hers. ¡°Such impatience will get you into trouble someday,¡± he chastised as he sank into a deep stance. ¡°You¡¯ll never be able to beat me if you don¡¯t control your emotions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in control,¡± she boasted, shifting her footing so she was facing him again. ¡°I just wanted to see if you were paying attention¡­¡± Before the words had left her mouth, Lian was on the attack again. This time she came in close, using the fury of her inner fire to accelerate and empower every strike.


    Taoru met each blow as though he were shooing away a fly. Where Lian was a rush of youthful vigor, he was the totem of agile serenity. He waited and watched, his movements fluid and unhurried, until her haste gave him an opening. One blow to Lian¡¯s ribs was all it took to send her staggering backward, clutching her side. She knew, had he been fighting a real opponent, that attack could have shattered bone. It was a lesson, a warning to punctuate his earlier comments.


    Unfocused and overeager. You¡¯re hamstringing yourself. She could see the rebuke written on his face though he said nothing at all.


    Taking a moment to regain her composure, Lian took a couple of deep breaths. Her side was a little sore, and she was certain a bruise would appear there in due time. It was her pride that hurt the most. She knew her father¡¯s style intimately, had seen him use it for nearly twenty years now, yet despite that, she could not break his defenses.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Giving up already?¡± It was his turn to taunt her. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I hit you that hard¡­¡±


    Fire flashed in Lian¡¯s eyes, the remark striking true just as Taoru had known it would. She rushed forward, despite the action being exactly what he expected. Lian was annoyed, but it was mostly at herself for letting her temper get away so easily. She wanted to prove him wrong, to show him once and for all that she was not reckless.


    I¡¯m just as good as he is!


    Taoru¡¯s every move was deliberate. He didn¡¯t waste effort if he didn¡¯t have to. If he could dodge an attack, he did so. He only ever blocked if there was no other way to avoid being struck. When he went on the offensive, his blows were decisive, meant to end the confrontation as efficiently as possible.


    This was a skill he tried to pass on to Lian, except she favored a more proactive, aggressive style. Fire trailed from her fists with every swing, her footwork as graceful as that of a dancer as she glided and weaved around her father. No matter what angle she tried, be it high or low, left or right, nothing penetrated the seasoned fighter¡¯s defense. Considering how much older he was, he was incredibly swift and sure-footed.


    Every time Lian let her own defense slip, even a fraction, Taoru took advantage of it. Each strike was a lesson, a reminder that in actual battle, Lian could have suffered grievous injury. More and more, she lost what concentration she¡¯d begun the spar with to where she was fighting against both her own temper and her father.


    ¡°Lian, focus!¡± Taoru had just knocked her back again, but this time he wasn¡¯t grinning or playful. ¡°Anger has no place in your heart.¡±


    Lian slammed her fist into the dirt in frustration before huffing to her feet and resuming her stance. She tried to regain herself as she had earlier, but the various bumps and bruises coupled with the fact she still couldn¡¯t beat her father made it nearly impossible to release the rage in her chest.


    He saw it too and lowered his arms. ¡°That¡¯s enough sparring for today.¡± Taoru turned his back, heading for the rocks where their bags lay. ¡°Run through your forms and clear your mind¡­¡±


    Lian wasn¡¯t ready for their fight to be over. How could she ever hope to prove herself capable if she gave up? That wasn¡¯t what she¡¯d been taught! She threw herself forward, fueled by the frustration eating at her from within. This time she was certain; his guard was down; his back exposed. Her father had finally made a mistake!


    In the blink of an eye, Lian came face to face with the reality that it was she who had made the mistake.


    Without so much as turning, Taoru reached over his shoulder and caught the blow that would have struck the back of his head. He used Lian¡¯s momentum against her, slinging her forward so she flipped and landed in front of him on her back so hard it nearly knocked the wind from her lungs. Had he exerted any of his own force, she surely would have been gasping for air. Instead, all she felt was the start of a new set of bruises to both her body and pride.


    Taoru relinquished her fist and frowned sternly down at her. The look of disappointment on his face was by far the worst blow she¡¯d ever received. He opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver a lecture she¡¯d not soon forget, but whatever he¡¯d been about to say was drowned out by a sudden terrified scream from somewhere down the mountain.


    Jumping to her feet, Lian didn¡¯t hesitate. It was clear from the commotion somebody was in trouble, and she refused to ignore it. Taoru was on her heels, though she wasn¡¯t sure if it was because he meant to stop her or assist as well. Tearing through the trees, it was a wonder she didn¡¯t trip and fall. Had she not been so familiar with this area, she very well may have.


    It didn¡¯t take her long to find the source of the panicked cries. From the ridge above, Lian could clearly see a group of four men advancing on an unarmed woman. She had collapsed onto the ground and was trying to crawl away, but the thugs, bandits most likely, had the upper hand here.


    Lian took a step forward, intending to race to the woman¡¯s aid, but Taoru¡¯s hand on her arm held her fast.


    ¡°Wait!¡± He tried to caution her, but she was still mad at him.


    Ripping her arm away, Lian started into the fray, calling back over her shoulder. ¡°No! I¡¯m not a coward. I have to help!¡±


    The words came out far more harsh than she¡¯d intended them to be. She was just so frustrated, and these foolish bandits were the perfect outlet for such negative feelings. She knew dimly that, regardless of her intention, her statement had still cut. Taoru did not immediately follow her but remained behind, surprised by his daughter¡¯s verbal sting.


    Lian slid the last few feet down the hill and used the momentum to position herself between the innocent woman and her would-be assailants. The men exchanged surprised glances. Their leader shrugged and gave the signal to attack. Lian grinned, pleased to meet a foe she could surely defeat. It would be a pleasant change to getting trounced by her father.


    The first two bandits leaped at her, blades flashing in the noon sun. They missed Lian by a wide margin, her nimble steps allowing her to dance closer without being hit. Her fists struck true, sending both men to the ground like sacks of grain.


    To her right, another bandit rushed at her, this one with a club raised over his head. Lian reacted in a split second, throwing herself up and then kicking him full in the chest with both feet. The force of the strike pushed her like a bullet in the opposite direction. She would have fallen into the dirt, but she corrected herself by planting her hands instead and using the motion to pivot her lower body into an arc.


    Normally, she would have used fire to propel herself further, but she knew better than to reveal her magic around others. She still used her legs to grapple the bandit leader, all in the same fluid motion from her kick, tackling him so unexpectedly that he let out a startled squeal. Lian held him in place, her thighs clenched around his neck, until he furiously beat the ground to signal that he yielded.


    Lian waited a breath longer before releasing him and swinging back onto her feet. She took a few steps toward the woman, scanning the area to be sure she¡¯d taken care of all the bandits. The only one still conscious was the leader, who was coughing and sputtering a few feet away.


    Ha! I did it!


    A wide, self-satisfied grin spread across her face. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, miss,¡± she said, turning toward the woman, but the words died on her lips. Lian barely realized her mistake, barely saw the glint of a dagger rushing toward her in the damsel¡¯s hand, before a powerful fist knocked the blade off course. Instead of piercing her throat, the edge cut only a few strands of hair before her assailant was thrown away.


    Taoru stood protectively in front of her, his entire body and posture far more tense than she had ever seen him before. ¡°I told you to wait,¡± he scolded without looking back. ¡°Things are not what they seem here!¡±


    Heat rose in Lian¡¯s cheeks, and her heart dropped. She had just cheated death.

 Chapter 5: Wujun - Taking A Mile

    LATE NOVEMBER 844 AQE


    By nightfall, Wujun¡¯s resolve had deepened. Lying awake in bed, waiting for the house to settle and Soki to fall asleep in the next room, Wujun didn¡¯t feel a shred of apprehension. He wasn¡¯t certain if that was good or bad. He knew he had to do this, that he couldn¡¯t remain cooped up and sheltered forever. If they weren¡¯t willing to give him freedom, then he would take it for himself.


    Finally, the light creeping under his door winked out. Wujun felt a surge of elation. A few minutes more and he would make his move. The wait was excruciating!


    Unable to endure it any longer, the young man swept the covers back, revealing that he was fully clothed beneath them. Carefully, afraid the bed might creak loudly if he moved too fast, he sat up and reached down for his footwear. He was wearing his oldest attire, the outfit he used to go riding or to do tasks that might otherwise ruin his better clothes. The boots were his favorite pair, the broken in set that he had saved from being thrown out when they¡¯d left the capitol. They slid onto his feet with ease, the fit perfect and snug.


    Last, he grabbed a heavy cloak. This late in the autumn the nights were chilly, and it was wise to dress warmly. Besides, the hood would hide his face and make him less recognizable should a servant spot him from a distance.


    Wujun crossed over to the window, picking his way over the floor to avoid the spots he¡¯d noticed were creaky. One loose floorboard was enough to alert Soki, who he knew was not a deep sleeper. The next obstacle was pushing open the window in complete silence¡­


    Placing his hands on it, Wujun held his breath as he slowly, inch-by-inch, raised the pane just enough that he could squeeze out. Once it was positioned, he paused, straining his hearing to determine if anyone had been disturbed. He feared the light scraping of wood might alert the entire household. Wujun held his breath, waiting and listening. He imagined Soki and Goratsu barging in, ready to fend off a murderer.


    What would they say if they caught me like this? They would both be furious, I know that much¡­


    The house remained silent.


    Wujun allowed himself to breathe again. He turned back to the now open window and started crawling out. This was easier said than done. Thankfully, he had a slender frame and was of average height. Had he been taller or broader, he might not have fit, even with the pane pushed fully up. More than once he stopped, anxious that someone would hear and come to investigate. Getting caught sticking out the window would have caused a tremendous uproar. It was a scenario he didn¡¯t want to deal with.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Finally, he was out and jumped the short distance to the nearby oak tree. Goratsu had fussed about this very tree, concerned an intruder might use it to gain access to the window. Disgruntled, Wujun had put his foot down, insisted his tutor was paranoid, and refused to change bedrooms. He¡¯d already been planning his escape and knew getting to the ground otherwise would be too dangerous. In the end, much to Wujun¡¯s surprise, Goratsu had relented.


    He hadn¡¯t hesitated in his plans until that moment. But one concession was not enough to erase the restrictions placed upon him or the secrets kept from him. If they ever found out about his excursion tonight, he hoped they would forgive him. This was something he had to do for the sake of his own sanity.


    Getting to the ground was a straightforward matter once he was in the oak. As a boy, he¡¯d climbed his fair share of trees, at least until Goratsu heard about it. A frown creased his brow as he turned his back on the cottage and tugged the hood over his shock of platinum hair.


    I need to stop thinking this way¡­ I¡¯m supposed to have fun tonight.


    Wujun shook the negativity away, imagining it was dead, brown leaves falling from the branches of a tree. He would not let sour memories taint his first adventure.


    He checked if the grounds were clear before trotting out from beneath the naked boughs and darting for the fence. Wujun was athletic enough that with a running start he caught the top and dragged himself up. Swinging his leg over, he tumbled, with far less grace than he¡¯d intended, to the ground on the other side.


    Once again, he paused and allowed himself a moment to breathe. He¡¯d done it. He¡¯d snuck out of his room and across the grounds. Wujun was finally free!


    Not wanting to celebrate too early and get himself caught, the young man put as much distance between himself and the house as possible. As he made the short walk to the village proper, he kept glancing over his shoulder, just in case someone had spotted him and was following. So far, he was in the clear.


    When he finally arrived in Tiguri he found that it was not so vibrant and bustling this late at night. Wujun noticed as he strolled through the nearly empty streets that most of the windows were darkened and only a few lanterns were lit along the paths. He stayed clear of any dim roads or alleys, knowing better than to venture into the shadows, lest he be assailed by the town¡¯s seedier population.


    I make an excellent target¡­ he mused to himself, turning down another street that was much more brightly lit than even the one he¡¯d just been on. The difference was so stark, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. It didn¡¯t take him long to figure out why; up ahead was the local tavern.


    Fresh excitement jolted through Wujun; he quickened his pace. This was the perfect place to spend some time before returning to the cottage. He could get an alcoholic beverage, maybe strike up a conversation with the regulars, join in some drinking songs¡­ The possibilities were endless!


    The freshly painted sign above the door only heightened his enthusiasm. It read in blocky, silver writing; The Fainting Damsel. Expectations swirled in Wujun¡¯s mind, but the instant he pushed the solid wood door open every single one of them was shattered.

 Chapter 6: Wujun - The Fainting Damsel

    Wujun froze in place. This was not the sort of establishment filled with laughter and songs and lively conversation. The patrons weren¡¯t jovial, hard-working men and the barmaids weren¡¯t lovely in the slightest. These were dingy people, huddled together in dark corners or over tables covered with tokens, dice, and coins.


    The serving women were the epitome of what he¡¯d imagined a ¡°wench¡± to be: older and far past their prime. Their faces were painted with cracking, caked on white make-up and their red lipstick was smudged. They looked like some horrific version of the high-class ladies who entertained in reputable tea houses and theaters back in Kibesu. The clientele didn¡¯t seem too bothered by their ghastly appearances; a warm body was still a warm body after all.


    ¡°Stop gawkin¡¯!¡± someone shouted.


    ¡°Yeah! Come in o¡¯ get out!¡± another voice hollered.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Wujun cleared his throat, trying to fix a less surprised, disturbed expression to his face as his feet carried him over the threshold. He didn¡¯t forget his manners and made sure the door shut securely behind him.


    It felt like every eye in the room was following him as he strolled as casually as he could manage to the counter. He hesitantly brushed his hood back, realizing he might not have appeared too friendly either. This seemed to have the opposite effect as even more heads turned to take in his exotic, nearly white hair.


    It¡¯s fine¡­ This is totally fine. This is just¡­ another¡­ adventure¡­


    He filled the nearest spot at the bar and began to put his hands on the countertop, but upon seeing the filth there thought better of it.


    ¡°Well, hello, fine sir!¡± Wujun called to the barkeep, motioning him over with an elegant flourish. ¡°Might I trouble you for a round of your finest ale?¡±


    Geez Wujun, stop saying ¡®fine¡¯!


    The man behind the bar swiped at his scraggly mustache with the back of his bony hand, sizing the young man up with a shrewd stare. ¡°Well, tha¡¯ would depend¡­¡± he sniffed, reaching for a bottle from beneath the counter, ¡°on if ya got any fine coin.¡±


    The patrons sitting nearby cackled at the joke, making Wujun¡¯s ears flush pink. Not just because he sounded like a fool, but because he didn¡¯t actually have any coin. He¡¯d thought of everything, from how he¡¯d get out of the house, to climbing the gate and not once had he considered a need for money.


    Wujun laughed nervously. ¡°A fair point. Perhaps, just water for now¡­¡± He rubbed at the back of his neck, hoping nobody would think he¡¯d been trying to swindle anyone.


    ¡°Water, huh?¡± The barkeep sniffed loudly again, setting the bottle back down. ¡°There¡¯s a well outside if ya want water¡­¡±


    ¡°Ah yes.¡± The flush spread to his cheeks. ¡°Another fair point¡­¡± He took a step back, intending to hurry out of the tavern and forget he¡¯d ever been stupid enough to go inside in the first place, but he ran into something solid. A second later, a lanky arm draped itself around his shoulders. The smell nearly made him gag.


    Before he could fully process what was going on, the stinky man had pushed his way up to the bar as well. They were joined by another, equally dirty individual, who squeezed himself in on Wujun¡¯s other side. He noted immediately that the others who had been nearby suddenly had somewhere else to be. Wujun would have liked to join them, but his path to escape was blocked by a towering, blank-faced brute directly behind him. That must have been who he¡¯d stepped into. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. The man on his left picked at Wujun¡¯s silk sleeve as if trying to determine its worth; the gesture did not instill confidence.


    ¡°Come now, barkeep, is that any way to treat our new friend here?¡± Even more vile breath blasted into Wujun¡¯s face as the man spoke, making his stomach turn. ¡°Bring the kid a drink, on my tab!¡±


    Dubious at first, the thin barkeep hesitated until the last part sunk in and then his manner changed entirely. ¡°A¡¯right, a¡¯right. If ya¡¯re going to pay for it, I¡¯ll not let the boy go thirsty.¡± In double the time it¡¯d taken him just to grab the bottle before, he had a cup laid out and was pouring dark, amber liquid into it. Once it was about half full, he pushed the mug closer to Wujun. ¡°Drink up!¡± His mustache quivered into a grin.


    Hesitant to accept what he knew wasn¡¯t sincere generosity, Wujun tried to thank them and leave, but the three men had him blocked in. ¡°Oh, very well.¡± He hoped they wouldn¡¯t notice his fingers were trembling as he took hold of the cup. ¡°My thanks, gentleman.¡± He used the polite honorific, despite how obvious it was they were little more than street thugs.


    Wujun raised the mug up to his lips, hesitating only a second before tilting it back. He had never imbibed alcohol before; he couldn¡¯t deny there were equal parts excitement and apprehension as he waited for the first frothy drops to splash into his waiting mouth. He was not ready for the earthy, almost sour taste that rolled over his tongue or the sting that burned all the way down his throat.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Coughing, Wujun put the mug back down on the counter and pushed it away. If that was their finest ale, he¡¯d hate to try their cheapest!


    Around him, his new ¡°friends¡± and the barkeep were all laughing. One tried to pound him on the back to help but each blow was so hard that it just made things worse. He tried to smile and keep up the front that everything was okay. Perhaps if he went along, they¡¯d get bored and wander off¡­


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, you¡¯ve had your fun.¡± A deep voice cut through the raucous laughter like a honed blade through flesh. ¡°Leave the kid alone.¡±


    The man with his arm still around Wujun¡¯s shoulders tugged it away immediately and the meat-shield of a thug at his back took a couple steps to the side. He was sure he heard the barkeep mutter ¡°Ironfang¡± with an awe of fear.


    Wujun wiped spittle from his mouth and then glanced over his shoulder to see who this newcomer called Ironfang was. The second his eyes fell on him, his jaw dropped. He had never seen such a beautiful, haunted man before in his entire life. Which, considering how sheltered he¡¯d been, wasn¡¯t saying much. All the same, he would bet his family¡¯s entire fortune he¡¯d never again meet someone so captivating.


    Ironfang was the tallest man in the room. He stood a head above the brutish thug that had blocked Wujun¡¯s escape a few moments ago and his shoulders were broad, his neck thick with muscles. Each meaty forearm was wrapped in a metal gauntlet decorated only by intricate, archaic symbols around the wrists. He couldn¡¯t tell what they said, though it was possible the glyphs were mere decoration and said nothing at all. Dark, steel-gray eyes glared from beneath a curtain of unruly black bangs. The rest of his hair hung over his shoulder in a braid that fell well past his waist, which Wujun imagined had never known a blade.


    Speaking of, his eyes were drawn to the man¡¯s belt, where he kept a pair of strange, curved swords. They were both well cared for; even the scabbards appeared in good condition. Either he never used them, or he spent a lot of time maintaining them.


    As he stepped closer, Wujun felt his pulse quicken and his cheeks grow warm again. There was something else about this man, a strange tug on his senses that he couldn¡¯t quite explain. Like someone calling out to him over a great distance, someone familiar and safe. Had he met this Ironfang before?


    ¡°You lot, fuck off.¡± He didn¡¯t look at the three thugs at all. Instead his steely gaze was squarely fixed on the barkeep. All the same, they slinked back into the shadows, glaring balefully at the man who had ruined their fun.


    ¡°And you¡­¡± He flicked something gold and round toward the bartender, that he fumbled and nearly dropped; it was a yuun piece. ¡°Consider the kid¡¯s tab paid. And if I see you passing that swill you call whiskey off to anyone else, I¡¯ll force it down your fucking gullet. We clear?¡±


    The older man didn¡¯t seem pleased, but he nodded all the same. ¡°Yeah, yeah, we¡¯re clear, Ironfang.¡± He sneered the name this time, then cowered an instant later as its bearer frowned at him.


    Wujun watched the exchange and found it difficult to keep his eyes from straying to Ironfang¡¯s face. It didn¡¯t take him long to figure out how he¡¯d gotten such a moniker either. Every time he spoke the dim tavern light glinted lazily off a metallic canine on the left side of mouth. Wujun¡¯s brow furrowed. If he had to guess, he was sure the tooth had to be made of silver, as iron wouldn¡¯t have held up in such a moist environment as they were more susceptible to rust¡­


    ¡°Why Ironfang, if it¡¯s made of silver?¡± he mused absently, unaware he¡¯d spoken aloud. For a moment, he¡¯d forgotten all about where he was, and that the owner of the tooth was a tall, scary man who could probably pummel him without breaking a sweat. ¡°Oh! Apologies.¡± Wujun gave them a sheepish grin. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt.¡±


    Ironfang just blinked at him, then turned back to the barkeep. ¡°Mind your shit,¡± he said as a final warning, then he clamped his large hand onto Wujun¡¯s shoulder and started dragging him toward the door. ¡°Come on, kid. Time to go.¡±


    Despite protesting the entire way there, Wujun¡¯s pleas were ignored, and he was not released until the pair of them were standing outside in the brisk cold of the night. Straightening his clothes and frowning like a sullen child, he huffed at the bigger man in a manner that was a perfect match to Goratsu when he was frazzled. ¡°That was unnecessary. I had everything under¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. Rabbits should know better than to wander into the wolves¡¯ den.¡± He started walking down the street, his eyes, black in the darkness, flicking from shadow to shadow. ¡°You¡¯re soft, no weapons, silk tunic. Every man in there was scheming to rob you blind and you have the fucking audacity to tell me you had it under control? Nice set of balls at least¡­¡±


    Wujun followed, but his ears burned, and his throat felt suddenly dry. Had his situation really been so dire? Then it occurred to him. ¡°Are you going to rob me?¡±


    That made Ironfang stop and look back at him. ¡°Do I look like a thief?¡± He sounded almost insulted.


    ¡°No, you look like a sword for hire if I had to guess. A reputable one at that, considering the men in there knew you on sight.¡± Wujun shrugged. ¡°I may not get out much, but I have basic powers of deduction, you know.¡±


    The swordsman grunted, though he studied him more closely now. ¡°You¡¯re a strange young man. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± In all the commotion, he¡¯d totally forgotten proper introductions. He bowed hastily and said, ¡°I¡¯m Wujun of Kibesu.¡±


    ¡°Kibesu, huh? That¡¯s quite a way from here,¡± came the reply. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ironfang, right?¡± Wujun straightened. ¡°I heard the barkeep call you that.¡±


    The other man made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. ¡°That¡¯s a stupid name given to me by stupid fucks I couldn¡¯t be bothered to share my real name with.¡± He started walking again and then added, ¡°You were right in the tavern. It¡¯s silver. How¡¯d you know?¡±


    Wujun had to jog a couple steps in order to catch up. ¡°I didn¡¯t know exactly¡­ I guessed based on the fact iron would be more likely to rust...¡±


    ¡°Not to mention, taste like ass,¡± he growled, appearing even more annoyed.


    ¡°Well, if I¡¯m not to call you¡­ that¡­ then what should I call you?¡± Wujun ventured after a brief silence.


    Once again, the swordsman stopped, his tone and demeanor softening. ¡°Kentai. My name is Kentai.¡±

 Chapter 7: Taoru - Too Bad Your Kid Isnt So Clever

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Taoru¡¯s heart was hammering in his chest. He had immediately sensed something wasn¡¯t right the second he and Lian had come upon the scene. It wasn¡¯t until now, standing between his foolish daughter and the not so distressed damsel, that he understood his misgivings.


    It required no effort for Zosara to sense one another. That elemental power was basic and primal, churning beneath the surface so blatantly that even those weakly attuned could be detected. The woman smirking at him exuded that power like a candle giving off light in a dark room. Had Lian not been so rash, she would have detected it as well.


    The stranger rose slowly from the ground, her gray-blue eyes glinting coldly. ¡°Impressive, Taoru Hiryuten¡­¡± She brushed dirt from her robes. ¡°You saw through my little ploy almost immediately. Too bad your kid isn¡¯t so clever.¡±


    Lian let out a growl and started forward, but Taoru¡¯s arm barred her path. He didn¡¯t have to say a word. His headstrong daughter knew he was displeased with her and stayed back, lest she make matters worse for herself. He imagined her glaring balefully at her would-be killer all the same.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Taoru lowered his arm when he was sure Lian wouldn¡¯t try anything. ¡°What is your purpose here?¡±


    The woman tossed pale blond hair over her shoulder and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be answering any questions, so save your breath.¡± Her chilling eyes glimmered knowingly at him before shifting to Lian. ¡°Mind yourself, girl. Daddy may not be around next time to save your stupid neck.¡±


    Before Lian could further retort, a rush of conjured wind buffeted them from out of nowhere. Taoru shifted, turning so he was taking the brunt of the gust instead of Lian. By the time it passed, the mysterious woman was gone, leaving the pair of them alone with the mostly unconscious bandits.


    ¡°Dad, who was¡ª¡±


    Taoru didn¡¯t let her finish the question. Now that the danger had passed, his fear for Lian¡¯s safety had given way to anger. ¡°Home,¡± he barked, hiding the dark expression on his face by stalking past her. ¡°Now!¡±


    This time, she did not disobey him.


    Returning home was not as pleasant as their hike up the mountain that morning. Taoru set a grueling pace, hoping the exertion would help to cool his temper; it didn¡¯t.


    Deep down, he knew he wasn¡¯t angry with Lian but at himself. He had trained her, taught her everything she knew, and so he felt fully responsible for each of her flaws. He didn¡¯t remember when she had become so short-tempered, so stubborn, so impulsive! Was it merely age? Was it a lack of discipline on his part?


    These thoughts plagued him all the way down the Peak, twisting and writhing in his gut like a nest of furious vipers.


    Behind him, Lian kept up without trouble, maintaining an exact stride that ensured she didn¡¯t get ahead of him. He¡¯d give her that much; when she put her mind to it, she was quite perceptive.


    If only she wouldn¡¯t rush into everything like¡­ like¡­


    The truth was, he¡¯d been every bit as headstrong in his youth. He¡¯d taken foolish risks and made plenty of stupid decisions based on hastily gathered, so-called facts. It had nearly destroyed him and would have if he¡¯d not been granted a single boon - his daughter.


    And I nearly lost her today¡­


    Or had he?


    That same uneasy feeling settled in his chest, making him question the odd encounter all over again. There were too many things about the strange woman not adding up in his mind. What was a Zosara doing out here? He was certain she was not after the bandits. They were merely unwitting pawns, a means to draw Lian and Taoru in close. But for what purpose? The question burned in him like hot coals.


    He couldn¡¯t shake the sense the moment had been a test. Would the strike have met its mark had he not intervened? There was no scenario where he took that chance.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Taoru snuck a glance over his shoulder at Lian. It was the first time he¡¯d allowed himself to do so, fearing that he would lose his resolve. As their home came into view, he felt his anger dissipating.


    When they passed by the workshop, he resisted the urge to duck inside and get lost in the project that so patiently awaited him. Instead, he steeled himself and continued until he reached the door to the house. He held it open for Lian, waited until she was inside, and then sealed it closed again.


    Lian sat her bag down in its usual place, the movement slow and deliberate, betraying that she wasn¡¯t sure what to do with herself. She was waiting for Taoru to make the first move. It was the first bit of patience she¡¯d exhibited all day. He nearly smacked his palm to his forehead in exasperation.


    Instead, he let out a weary sigh as he put his own bag away and turned to face his daughter. He¡¯d have given anything to avoid this confrontation, to let the lesson stand on its own without further need to speak of it. There was so much more at work here than a single moment of impulsiveness, however. It wasn¡¯t just that her rash behavior had nearly gotten her killed; it was the impending war and the certainty she would be dragged into it. He didn¡¯t want that. More than anything, he did not want that.


    ¡°Lian,¡± he started out gently, trying to find the words lest he stand there procrastinating for eternity. ¡°Navigating life is like walking a mountain path¡­¡±


    Despite the severity of the situation, Lian made a mock gagging noise. She caught herself immediately and bowed her head, hiding her face from the disapproving expression she received from her father.


    ¡°Fine, no analogies,¡± he began again, trying not to be frustrated. ¡°There are moments in every person¡¯s life when they must make decisions that will have lasting repercussions. Jumping thoughtlessly into a battle is one such¡ª¡±


    ¡°What was I supposed to do? Stand around and analyze? Refuse to fight like a coward? I saw someone who needed help, and I helped them!¡±


    There it was again. Taoru felt her words like a blade through the chest. Did she really believe he was so callous? How could his own daughter understand him so poorly? It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t care; it was the simple fact that her life mattered above all others, even above his own.


    ¡°Your skill is undeniable, Lian. Your compassion and strength are likewise undeniable.¡± Taoru kept his voice hard, even though he was complimenting her. ¡°Being good is not just about skill. It¡¯s about intuition and patience as well. There is a significant difference between acting rashly and not acting at all.¡±


    She stared him down stubbornly, her jaw tight and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. ¡°You never want to act, Father! You never want me to act either! Well, I want to! I want to protect people, to use my skill to do good! I don¡¯t want to waste my life and my magic on¡­¡° there was a moment where she hesitated, but then she blurted angrily, ¡°¡­on stupid art!¡±


    The forcefulness of her words caused him to take a step back as if they had been a physical blow. He couldn¡¯t keep the pain from his face, though he swept it away an instant later, sealing it behind a steely mask.


    She¡¯s young, he told himself, fighting the emotions that threatened to wrench his insides apart. She¡¯s young, and she doesn¡¯t understand. That simple fact did nothing to ease the hurt she¡¯d caused him or to soothe his inflamed temper. Someday she would look back and know fully the sharpness of her words and the wound they had opened, but right now, barely more than a child, she had no clue.


    Taoru was done trying to make her see. His mind was made up. ¡°War is coming, Lian, and I will not see you caught up in it. I will begin making preparations tomorrow. We¡¯ll head west and¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she shouted at him, tears filling her fiery gaze, making her eyes appear to shimmer. ¡°This is our home! I don¡¯t want to leave! I want to fight!¡±


    ¡°Calm down. This will be for the best; you¡¯ll see in time¡­¡± Taoru tried to keep his voice even, but her outburst made his composure waver.


    He didn¡¯t want to drag her away from the only home she¡¯d ever known; he didn¡¯t want to leave the house he had built with his own two hands. There was so much here they had made together, and the thought of leaving it behind pained his heart. But nowhere near as deeply or sharply as the mere notion of his daughter going off to fight in some petty warlord¡¯s land dispute!


    ¡°You can¡¯t stop me!¡± She wouldn¡¯t let it go. ¡°I¡¯m going to fight for my home! I won¡¯t be a coward like¡ª¡±


    Taoru didn¡¯t give her the opportunity to finish what she was about to say. He raised himself to his full height, towering over her as a black expression of anger darkened his face. ¡°Lian!¡± he bellowed, raising his voice to her for the first time in her twenty years of life. ¡°I forbid it!¡±


    No sooner had the words left his mouth did he fully and completely regret them. Something between father and daughter shattered. A pain, more excruciating than any physical wound, echoed across Lian¡¯s visage, the same agony that pounded relentlessly inside Taoru.


    What have I done?


    He wanted to pull her into his arms and beg forgiveness, to confess the unfathomable fear that spurred his decisions. He needed her to understand why and yet the words remained lodged in his throat.


    Silent tears flooded down her flushed cheeks. She took a step back from him, her lower lip trembling. Taoru raised his hand, reaching out to her, hoping to draw her back, but it was too late. Lian spun on her heel and rushed to her room. A second later, he heard the door slide shut with a loud snap!


    Taoru remained trapped there, replaying the scene out in his mind, wondering how it had all gone so wrong.


    What have I done?


    He had no answers.

 Chapter 8: Kentai - A Not So Shining Knight

    LATE NOVEMBER 844 AQE


    Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck¡­


    The word had been racing through Kentai¡¯s mind from the second he intervened. He had promised himself repeatedly that he would stop sticking his neck out for people and yet, here he was getting involved in somebody else¡¯s mess! He didn¡¯t even have a decent motive like valor or justice and that made him want to kick himself all the harder.


    That¡¯s not entirely fair¡­ I had a secondary reason¡­


    He¡¯d felt the faint tug of magic when Wujun walked into the tavern, ebbing gently like the soft breathing of a hibernating bear. That he was obviously an untrained Zosara was not the only motivation though, oh no. If only his heart were so charitable to his own kind¡­


    Stop lying to yourself! You opened your fucking mouth because he¡¯s cute!


    If he could have given body to that voice in his head, he¡¯d have done so, just for the pleasure of running it through with a sword.


    Kentai glanced over at Wujun, who was strolling casually beside him now, his head swiveling to take in every building, sign, and street with far more enthusiasm than was usual. If you¡¯d seen one shitty village, you¡¯d seen them all, except the odd young man appeared to be seeing this one for the first time.


    It made the swordsman frown, intriguing and unsettling him all at once. He wanted to ask more, but he got the sense Wujun didn¡¯t know more. The air of innocence about him was exactly the thing that had brought him trouble in the tavern. He was such an easy mark for the predatory bandits and thugs who slinked through the streets of Tiguri at night.


    ¡°Where are you staying?¡± Kentai finally broke the silence and came to a stop at a crossroads. He¡¯d been leading them around in circles, hoping to lure out any attackers who might come for a piece of the well-dressed, na?ve city boy. With no signs of an ambush, he believed it might be safe to walk Wujun home now. From this crossroads, he could easily navigate to anywhere else in the town.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Wujun blinked, as if to pull his mind back from far away. ¡°The big cottage on the hill. I think it¡¯s¡­¡± He glanced around to get his bearings.


    Kentai had already started in the appropriate direction. ¡°The Junjiko estate, huh? You either have important friends or deep pockets.¡±


    A shadow fell over Wujun¡¯s face at the remark, and he nodded absently. ¡°Something like that, I guess¡­¡± He didn¡¯t elaborate further. A frown line creased his brow and he seemed to drift away again.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Tilting his head to one side, Kentai studied the younger man. After a moment, he opened his mouth to apologize for touching on a sensitive subject, but before he could get the words out, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, alerting him to danger. He clapped a large hand on Wujun¡¯s shoulder and yanked him out of the way just as a rock flew through the spot where his head had been.


    Kentai didn¡¯t stop moving or allow Wujun to stop either. With a glance, he had taken in the surrounding area and determined where the attackers would come from. There was only one place for them to take cover: the black alleyway. This was no more ideal, but the darkness would hide them from further projectiles and whoever was waiting in ambush would be easy enough to deal with in close quarters.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Wujun sounded alarmed, but not as frightened as Kentai would have guessed him to be. ¡°Why are they attacking us? Who are they?¡±


    ¡°Questions later,¡± Kentai grunted, finally relinquishing his grasp on the younger man. He moved the hand to the hilt of his curved utzu and froze in place. The alley was pitch black. His eyes were nearly useless except to distinguish the shadowy outline of the walls and ground from the empty air. He closed them, letting his other senses take control. He could hear Wujun breathing beside him, slow and steady, despite the rapid thump-thumping of his heartbeat.


    Impressive¡­ he¡¯s keeping his shit together well. He¡¯s had training¡­


    There were others nearby as well, their breathing not so controlled, and their footsteps as they advanced gave away their position entirely.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± was the only instruction he had time to give Wujun before the pair of louts sprang forward.


    Kentai kept his eyes closed as he struck, aware that their enemies might attempt to blind him with a sudden flash of light. In one swift motion, he had drawn his utzu and struck down the first thug, his blood coating the blade and spraying against the wall. He could hear the wet splatter, the anguished, gurgling gasp, and then the hard thud as the lifeless corpse hit the ground.


    Neither sword nor warrior broke stride, the lethal steel thirsting for another hot drink with the lustful fervor of a desperate prostitute. In contrast, Kentai was as flat and emotionless as a granite slab. If he allowed himself to think of it, the weight of death would be too great to bear and yet the moment demanded action. Without hesitation, he struck for a second time, and in that single slash felled the other assailant.


    A shiver ran through Kentai. He knew what came next; the price of taking a life for him was far steeper than that of any other mercenary. Even without opening his eyes, he knew they were there, could feel their confusion and grief taking shape.


    ¡°Am I dead?¡±


    That was always the first question.


    Kentai forced his eyes open, but did not look toward the translucent, shimmering figures hovering near their corpses. He fixed his gaze on Wujun, who hadn¡¯t moved an inch since being ordered to remain still. His hand found Wujun¡¯s in the dark and he tugged him onward, just as the wailing began; the spirits had seen their bodies.


    The warmth of Wujun¡¯s skin eased the tightness in his chest somewhat. Later, when he had time to process, he would find this curious, but at the moment he was too busy leading his new charge to safety.


    Just as they reached the other side of the alley, there was a loud clamoring behind them. The rest of the gang had followed and stumbled upon their dead comrades.


    Kentai and Wujun, hands still clasped together, ran down the street.

 Chapter 9: Wujun - You Can Fuck Off Or You Can Die

    ¡°Wait, stop!¡± Wujun¡¯s mind was reeling. He¡¯d been trained to defend himself and to keep his head in a crisis since he was a young boy, but actually being in danger was far different from practice. He had expected the fear and hadn¡¯t been surprised by the sound or smell of death, but the confusion he felt was getting the better of him. ¡°Who¡¯s chasing us? What¡¯s going on?¡±


    When Kentai wouldn¡¯t stop, he continued to run, holding the other man¡¯s hand with all his strength, afraid of what might happen if he let go. After several minutes, he couldn¡¯t speak any more, and so he gave up, focusing his energy on running and breathing.


    Finally, they slowed down and ducked into another alleyway. This one was every bit as dark as the last, lit only by a faint beam of moonlight that couldn¡¯t fully penetrate the gloom. Kentai directed Wujun to the darkest shadows cast by a narrow cleft in the wall that led to a small doorway. No doubt the establishment here used it to haul away trash out of sight of the customers. The space was barely big enough for the two of them to fit, so they had to squish together.


    Not far away they could hear boots pounding down the street as their pursuers tried to figure out where they¡¯d gone. There was a lot of shouting and more than once a beam of light shot down the alley. Each time this happened, Wujun felt certain they were about to be caught, but Kentai remained as still as a statue.


    It was a strange sensation, being so close to another person. Wujun had always been taught to maintain an appropriate distance. The only time he was touched was to be disciplined or when sparring with Soki. When he realized how much of Kentai was pressed against him, Wujun¡¯s fear of being found was replaced with a completely different sort of tension.


    He was suddenly very aware of the subtle, earthy scent of Kentai¡¯s braid and the warmth that radiated from him into Wujun¡¯s body everywhere they connected. Even in the dark, he could make out the line of the other man¡¯s square jaw. He couldn¡¯t stop his mind from wondering what it might be like to press his lips against it, to move them down his neck¡­


    He blushed and was thankful the lack of light kept Kentai from noticing. These feelings were new to Wujun. He¡¯d been this close to Soki when training countless times and had never felt so aroused. Was it because they had practically grown up together? It couldn¡¯t have been that he was focused on sparring, because this situation was far more dangerous. Maybe he just didn¡¯t find her attractive?


    Wujun was so lost in thought, it took him a second to realize Kentai was staring at him. Dark, steely eyes found his even in the black of night and a sudden rush of heat spread throughout the young man that was equal parts embarrassment and elation. He opened his mouth to apologize for his body¡¯s unbidden response, but nervousness kept him from speaking.


    To his relief, Kentai grinned. He leaned closer and whispered gruffly in Wujun¡¯s ear, ¡°I¡¯m flattered, kid, but now really isn¡¯t the time.¡± Then he nipped the younger man¡¯s earlobe in a teasing manner that was both bliss and torture.


    Despite the situation, Wujun involuntarily cried out as pleasure coursed through him. He clung to Kentai as his knees threatened to buckle. He was vaguely aware of the other man¡¯s self-satisfied smirk, as one might see the shape of a deer in dense fog.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Hey! I heard something down here.¡± The shouting from the street dragged him back to his senses.


    ¡°Shit¡­¡± Kentai muttered, the smile vanishing. ¡°Oh well, it was worth it.¡±


    Wujun didn¡¯t quite agree, but he was in no position to argue. His legs felt mushy, as though they might give out at any second, and his cheeks he was certain glowed red even in the dark. He didn¡¯t resist as Kentai pulled away, taking with him the alluring warmth so that a sudden chill nipped at him where once a firm body had been. His mind noted the scraping sound of a sword being drawn, of multiple feet approaching, and the haze of lust was swept away like dead leaves on the wind.


    ¡°It¡¯s Ironfang!¡± someone shouted. The thugs coming at them slowed at this realization but did not stop their forward advance.


    Kentai let out a faint, resigned sigh that was probably only heard by Wujun. The latter had stepped out as well and taken up a position next to his large companion. He raised his hands up, assuming a loose fighting stance that would allow him to remain mobile as well as balanced. The swordsman noticed and glanced at him from the corner of his eye but said nothing.


    In the next second, Kentai bolted forward, the motion far more graceful than one might expect for a man of his size. With fluid precision the elegant blade struck, effortlessly carving through flesh and sinew, nerve and tendon. The mercenary used the narrow alleyway to his advantage, the walls thinning out the flood of opponents so they couldn¡¯t flank and overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Slight, controlled slashes felled thug after thug, their blood pooling on the ground in a wash of crimson.


    Wujun hadn¡¯t noticed it the first time Kentai had fought. The darkness had hidden his face. Now, with the light pouring in down the street, he observed that every time Kentai¡¯s blade claimed a life, the man flinched. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there. Wujun also noticed that he never looked back at the bodies, he kept his gaze forward, fixed on the next opponent.


    What sort of mercenary balks at killing? He does it easily enough¡­ Does it pain him somehow? It was unlikely he would get any answers, but the questions drifted through his mind all the same.


    As Kentai fought his way out of the alley, Wujun kept pace not far behind him. So far, he¡¯d not had the opportunity to contribute to the fight, but he was there and ready should anyone slip by the agile swordsman.


    Finally, they burst out onto the street. Wujun turned with his back to Kentai¡¯s, trusting the other to protect him and determined to do the same. They were surrounded by another half dozen thugs, all spread out, though more cautious considering how easily the swordsman had cut through their ranks so far.


    Wujun glanced back at the alleyway and could make out the shadowy lumps that were the bodies of the dead. It was impossible without better lighting to tell how many there were, but he could estimate it was more than he could count on one hand. It sent a shiver down his spine; he had never seen so much death in person before. Suddenly he was glad for the darkness; this way he couldn¡¯t see the details of the lifeless husks that even now were growing cold, the process of decay already begun.


    ¡°The kid is under my protection,¡± he heard Kentai¡¯s gruff voice behind him. It snapped Wujun back to the moment, allowing him to free his gaze from the alley and the carnage it held. ¡°You can fuck off or you can die, but either way you¡¯re not laying a finger on him.¡±


    Wait. They¡¯re here for me? The thought made Wujun shudder.


    A couple goons glanced around, trying to decide if they thought they could take him or not. Before any of them came to a conclusion, however, a voice cut through the night, deep and mocking.


    ¡°Well, as I live and breathe, the legend himself is here. Ironfang, it¡¯s been too long, friend.¡±


    Between the malevolent tone of the speaker and the way Kentai stiffened in surprise, the newcomer was anything but a friend.

 Chapter 10: Kentai - Poetry In Motion

    Kentai resisted the urge to spit on the ground. ¡°You won¡¯t be living or breathing much longer if I have anything to say about it, Naizen, you miserable shit.¡±


    He was rewarded for the insult by a peel of raucous laughter. ¡°Oh, but that¡¯s a powerful grudge you¡¯re holding. It¡¯s been what? Three years? Four? You can¡¯t still be angry I switched sides on that last job we pulled¡­¡±


    ¡°Switched sides?¡± Kentai¡¯s eyes were fixed on the spot where Naizen was hiding out in the shadows. ¡°You gave our entire fucking route to the enemy! Protect the girl. That was it. Easy gold until you betrayed us.¡± The wounds he¡¯d suffered in that battle stung as the memories assailed him. He¡¯d barely survived and kept the fourteen-year-old girl, a nobleman¡¯s only daughter, from being captured.


    ¡°What can I say?¡± Naizen¡¯s mocking voice grated every single one of Kentai¡¯s nerves. ¡°They were offering more gold. I¡¯m only human, Ironfang. You can¡¯t blame me for being greedy, can you?¡±


    Kentai let out a low growl. ¡°The fuck I can¡¯t! Now get down here. I want to run you through and see if an actual heart beats in your chest or if there¡¯s just a black fucking hole there!¡±


    At his back, Wujun slipped once again into a martial stance, hands held in loose fists in front of his chest. Kentai¡¯s anger at seeing the former acquaintance dissipated somewhat, now that he was reminded of the young man he¡¯d set himself to protect. Old grudges, no matter how festered and sour, were a distraction he couldn¡¯t afford.


    Why am I so drawn to him? Why have I let myself get caught up in this? I swore I¡¯d never¡­ not after the last person I helped went crazy, and yet¡­


    The faint hum of magic ebbing gently at his back was the only answer he could settle on. It was still so raw, so untrained, that Kentai imagined Wujun wasn¡¯t even aware the connection existed. He was certain of it though. The magic lingered on him like smoke. Perhaps he had merely been touched by it and could not use it himself? Was that even possible? Could sorcery leave that sort of trace?


    This was not the time for such thoughts. Kentai was swiftly reminded of that fact as the bandits closest to him attacked. With a grunt, he countered, blocking the first swing and dodging a second. One of his opponents held a wicked, make-shift cudgel that had been adorned with nails. Even though the cruel weapon had missed the Zosara¡¯s body, one of the improvised metal spikes caught his cape and rent a gaping hole in the fabric.


    ¡°Son of a¡­¡± he growled, glaring over at the man with eyes that gleamed silver in the moonlight. ¡°This was my best cloak, asshole!¡±


    ¡°I was aiming for your¡ª¡±


    Kentai didn¡¯t give him a chance to finish his taunt. He invoked his own magic, his power over metal, to deal with the miscreant. In a flash, the nails in the crude cudgel tore from the wood and embedded themselves, seemingly of their own accord, into the fool¡¯s exposed throat. Gurgling and choking, eyes wide with horror at the strange turn of events, the thug toppled to the ground.


    The Zosara didn¡¯t bother to look back; he was already moving, pressing the first man who had come at him with a rusted, pitiful excuse for a sword. They exchanged a couple of blows, the third however, with the merest, magical nudge from Kentai, snapped the ill-kept blade in half like a brittle twig. Finishing the wretch was effortless after that.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°My¡­ I¡¯d forgotten what a beast you are in combat, Ironfang.¡± Naizen¡¯s simpering voice came from the left, causing Kentai to whip around to face him. ¡°Your new toy isn¡¯t doing too badly either, all things considered¡­¡± He inclined his head in the direction he wanted Kentai to look and despite himself, he obliged.


    The first thing he noticed was Wujun had secured a weapon and defeated its original bearer. Two more had come at him, but the young man was proving to be less of an easy mark than the gang had originally thought. His stance, his precise strikes and reserved movements, were a distinctive style that Kentai had only seen once in his life. The only difference: Wujun was not delivering fatal blows.


    ¡°Such mastery¡­¡± Naizen crooned, his tone goading. ¡°What¡¯s that old phrase? Ah, yes, ¡®poetry in motion¡¯¡­ Of course, he¡¯s rather soft. Why, if I had such skill, I¡¯d be¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡± Kentai had reached his limit. He lunged, raising his utzu intending to impale the other man on the shining blade, but the strike met nothing but open air. Knowing his opponent as he did, Kentai immediately ducked and rolled. He was glad he did; a blast of fire scorched the ground where he¡¯d been standing.


    Naizen let out a shrill laugh. ¡°Oh, so you recognize it. Takes me back, Ironfang, way back¡­¡± Fire appeared in his palms, crackling and sputtering as a light breeze dallied through the street. It cast dancing shadows across the man¡¯s face, making his orange eyes shine with crazed malevolence. ¡°You weren¡¯t much older than a boy when I first met you. Wounded, running from¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said, shut up!¡± Kentai attacked again, using an iron gauntlet to deflect a blast of flame without even breaking stride. He didn¡¯t want to draw this battle out, didn¡¯t want to think that perhaps the na?ve Wujun was really a dreaded Shadow, and he certainly didn¡¯t want to hear Naizen¡¯s mocking voice a second more.


    He gritted his teeth and held his curved sword up to slice through another scorching blaze. He could feel the metal heating and hoped his foe¡¯s magic did not burn hot enough that it could melt the blade. Just when he feared he¡¯d made a critical error, the onslaught swirled and dissipated, leaving the metal and Kentai smoking but otherwise unharmed.


    Naizen¡¯s sing-song giggling came from a new direction. ¡°Oh, I see. You don¡¯t want the boy to know your secret, huh? What would they call you if they knew the truth, do you think? Deathcaller? Deathtongue?¡± He let out an exasperated sigh, as though he were thoroughly vexed with his inability to find a fitting moniker. Then he snapped his fingers and chuckled to himself. ¡°No, no, I¡¯ve got it. Deathfang!¡±


    ¡°Ironfang is stupid enough,¡± Wujun¡¯s voice interrupted the fire Zosara¡¯s cackling before Kentai had the chance to hurl more expletives at him. ¡°Now, are you going to bore us to death or actually fight?¡± He brandished the stolen straight-edged sword in his hand, pointing the tip straight at Naizen.


    Kentai had lost himself in frustration and hadn¡¯t been fully cognizant of the fight going on around him. Wujun had dispatched the rest of the gang, disarming the lot of them, and even rendering one unconscious. A quick glance around and he saw they¡¯d all lost their nerve and were fleeing, two dragging their limp comrade behind them without a shred of gentleness.


    His dark eyes flicked back to the young man at his side, glaring at their last remaining foe. Other than a slight scratch on his cheek, he was unharmed. Wujun¡¯s aqua eyes reflected the moonlight, shining with stalwart conviction. Surely he had witnessed Naizen conjuring fire and his courage had not wavered. Soft-hearted he might be, but it was clear his compassion did not diminish his resolve.


    ¡°Hmm, no, I don¡¯t believe I¡¯d like to continue fighting,¡± Naizen answered, already slinking backward into the nearest shadows. ¡°Ironfang and I have a score to settle, but it will have to wait I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯ve business elsewhere that needs attending to first.¡± He let out a mock-sorrowful chuckle. ¡°Watch your back, brother, this one is trouble¡­¡±


    ¡°You bastard!¡± Kentai saw him trying to slip away and launched himself forward, intending to block his escape. By the time he closed the distance, however, Naizen had melted into the darkness and was gone.

 Chapter 11: Aojiko - The Dragons Weakness

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Aojiko stepped through the darkened halls of the palace as silently as a shadow. Her long blond hair was no longer unbound as it had been in the woods but twisted into an elaborate plait atop her head. Eyes the color of a gray, stormy sky pierced through the gloom of night like an assassin¡¯s honed blade. Speaking of, she had replaced the dagger as well and now carried in her sash a single, elegant fan trimmed with silver. The white tassel swung in motion with her deliberate, graceful strides.


    The servants and guards she passed gave her a wide berth. They knew what she was and they kept her at arms length because of it. She didn¡¯t mind. She enjoyed being left to her own devices. The last thing she needed was to be harried on her way to meet with Warlord Nagisa.


    Pausing, Aojiko took a moment to gather herself before going any further. She buried her feelings deep down, locking away her bitterness and hate. Even though she was certain that Nagisa suspected what was truly in her heart, she wasn¡¯t about to give her any concrete evidence to support those suspicions. It was best if everyone believed her to be the loyal dog, happy to do her master¡¯s bidding. Nobody wanted to face the fact that Aojiko was little more than a slave. Not even Aojiko wanted to admit it.


    Memories assailed her as the notion that she was a captive swirled around in her mind. It would be so easy to get lost in ruminations, but that was something she couldn¡¯t afford just now. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and continued striding down the hallway.


    When she arrived at her destination, however, her hand hovered over the door handle, hesitating for a moment to go inside. She could hear Nagisa speaking through the solid oak planks, though what was being said couldn¡¯t be distinguished. Suddenly, she wished she was back on the mountain, back in her quarters, hell, Aojiko wished she could have been anywhere else. She envied those with the freedom to choose, those like Taoru Hiryuten and his daughter who could have lived anywhere and done anything, but that wasn¡¯t her lot in life. It never had been. Since she was a child expectations had been thrust upon her and when she fell short¡­


    Aojiko swallowed the bile in the back of her throat and shook her head to clear it. This was getting her nowhere. Not to mention it was unwise to leave her mistress waiting. Summoning every ounce of her resolve, Aojiko grasped the handle and thrust open the door.


    ¡°Ah yes, Aojiko,¡± a strong, female voice greeted her as she stepped into a small chamber. ¡°How was your trip to Red Fang Peak?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Other than the older woman, Warlord Nagisa, who had spoken, there were only two more people present. One was Nagisa¡¯s young daughter, Kiatsu, whose purpose here was merely to observe and learn. The third person was a man a handful of years older than the young Kiatsu. He wore the uniform and markings of a captain, but with a mere glance, Aojiko could see he would never live up to such a rank; his character was weak.


    ¡°Somewhat productive.¡± Aojiko folded her arms across her chest casually. ¡°Hiryuten remains elusive. He¡¯s quite clever. He saw almost immediately that he was being set up. Had it not been for the girl, he wouldn¡¯t have involved himself at all.¡±


    The captain swore. ¡°That gutless cur¡­¡±


    His reaction needled the air Zosara, who had seen in an instant that Taoru Hiryuten was anything but a coward. Her magical insight had revealed his strength and power was tenfold that of the mere boy seated before her now.


    ¡°He¡¯s nothing of the sort.¡± Aojiko¡¯s tone remained steady, not betraying so much as a hint of her irritation. ¡°He¡¯s a wise man who picks his battles carefully.¡±


    Nagisa watched the exchange closely before speaking up. ¡°His virtues are not what I¡¯m interested in, Aojiko¡­¡±


    ¡°As I said, he¡¯s clever. He didn¡¯t display any magic.¡± She left out the whole truth, the private truth that was so precious she would die to keep it secret. Aojiko did not need her seer¡¯s insight to sense the truth of Taoru and his daughter; they were fire Zosara to their marrow.


    ¡°Did Lian¡ª¡± The captain cleared his throat, his neck flushing a little. ¡°Did the girl reveal¡­?¡± He didn¡¯t finish his question; he didn¡¯t have to.


    Aojiko shook her head. ¡°No magic from her either. However, she has impressive martial prowess. She took down four bandits alone like they were twigs.¡± She couldn¡¯t stop a grin from playing across her lips. ¡°The girl wouldn¡¯t make a poor consolation prize, Nagisa¡­¡±


    The warlord was already shaking her head. ¡°No, she¡¯s inexperienced and volatile. I can¡¯t trust the crop to a field that¡¯s never been plowed. I need the seasoned warrior!¡± Her frustration was evident. She had been trying for months now to entice Taoru into her service, even tempting his daughter, and still, her efforts had not borne fruit.


    In a way, Aojiko sympathized. Mostly, she was glad another Zosara had avoided the warlord¡¯s grasping talons. If she¡¯d had a choice in the matter, she would have left Nagisa¡¯s service in her youth, but freedom had become a distant dream. Her fingers subconsciously shifted to the spot on her arm where, hidden by her sleeve, a welted brand had been scorched into her flesh long ago¡­


    ¡°You could use Lian in other ways¡­¡± the captain ventured, his voice almost timid. ¡°Taoru is incredibly protective of her. Given the right situation¡­¡±


    Dislike for the captain grew to a new height, but Aojiko kept her face impassive. Even when Nagisa turned a hopeful expression to her ¡°pet¡± Zosara. ¡°Captain Juzo presents an intriguing notion. What do you think, old friend? Have you seen evidence of this?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The word was bile in her mouth. The question had been direct; there was no getting around it. Aojiko remembered the look on Taoru¡¯s face when he had come to his daughter¡¯s defense. Though she had not shown it, that gleam in his eye had terrified her. ¡°There¡¯s no doubt the girl is his weakness.¡±

 Chapter 12: Lian - Why Are You Here Again?

    Lian was furious and heartbroken all at once. Never before had she fought so heatedly with her father. She¡¯d never faced death before either and that realization made her want nothing more than to be comforted by him. This was all too much for her, too serious, too daunting. Then her pride whispered scathing words in her mind, stoking her temper to new heights.


    She paused, on the verge of reaching to open her bedroom door, a teary frown darkening her visage. It would be easy to find Taoru and apologize to him, but Lian wasn¡¯t ready to have that conversation. She regretted the harsh things she¡¯d said, but wanting to protect her home wasn¡¯t wrong. What good was her magic if all she did was hide it away? Shouldn¡¯t she want to help?


    Her hand dropped to her side and she turned her back on the door, leaving it sealed shut. She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, fully aware that she was wallowing. For what felt like hours, she remained there with silent tears rolling down her round cheeks. Once or twice she swiped at them, trying to brush them away and compose herself, but then a fresh wave of frustration or sadness would hit her and the crying returned.


    Eventually, she laid down, her head at the foot of the bed and found herself drifting off to sleep. Exhaustion from the tumultuous day won out over her anger and pride until she was just on the verge of unconsciousness.


    ¡°Lian?¡± Taoru¡¯s strong voice came through the door and instantly she was alert. ¡°Lian, I brought you dinner. May I come in?¡±


    Emotions warred within her, making her stomach feel twisted and queasy. Silence stretched on. Her mouth was dry and her tongue wouldn¡¯t work. She didn¡¯t know what to say, whether to invite him in or continue to stew. In the end, she couldn¡¯t decide and instead sat there, waiting to see what he would do.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Taoru called a couple moments later. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it out here for you.¡±


    Moisture stung her eyes, but she remained frozen and mute until long after Taoru¡¯s steps had receded from the door. Minutes passed before she finally moved and all she did was wipe her nose with the sleeve of her dress.


    Only when Lian could no longer ignore her hungry belly did she get off the bed to retrieve the food. Guilt lashed her insides as she gathered the tray and sat back down to eat. She was supposed to have cooked dinner tonight and because of their argument it had fallen to Taoru. She sniffed, trying hard not to cry again.


    The rice and fish tasted like ash in her mouth as she ate. She wasn¡¯t deserving of it, but her body needed the nutrition and she didn¡¯t want to hurt Taoru¡¯s feelings any further by refusing it.


    A tap came at the window. It took her a moment to realize it wasn¡¯t a tree branch or the wind, but a pebble. Setting her dishes aside, Lian strode over to the window and propped it open tentatively. Just as she did so another small rock bounced off the side of the house, then disappeared into the grass.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± She called into the darkness, her golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. Was this for real? Who would come all the way out here to throw rocks at her window?


    She got her answers a moment later when Captain Juzo stepped out of the inky shadows and up to the opening. ¡°Sorry to intrude, Lian.¡±


    ¡°Juzo? What do you want? If my father¡ª¡±


    He raised his hands to quiet her, then offered a sheepish smile. ¡°I know, this is insane, but I had to see you¡­¡± He blushed and dropped his gaze. ¡°I know your father didn¡¯t give me permission to call on you, that¡¯s why I¡¯m sneaking around.¡±


    Lian rolled her eyes, thinking his infatuation annoying more than anything, but she didn¡¯t want to say that. She had other things on her mind and it wouldn¡¯t serve her purpose to push Juzo away entirely. At the same time, she didn¡¯t want to lead him on, and so she would have to walk that line carefully. ¡°He¡¯s very protective,¡± she stated, her anger covering the guilt she felt.


    ¡°He is.¡± Juzo gave a quiet laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. ¡°He¡¯s a bit frightening, too, if I¡¯m being honest.¡±


    Pride blossomed in Lian¡¯s chest. There was a reason a kind sculptor like Taoru was intimidating to someone like Juzo. Not that she would ever give away her father¡¯s magic to the captain. That was far too dangerous. She didn¡¯t trust Juzo as far as she could throw him. ¡°So, if he¡¯s so scary, why are you here again?¡±


    To her surprise, Juzo reached out and touched her hand with his fingertips. The contact was brief, but it felt wrong all the same. His skin was cool, clammy, and Lian moved her arms to her sides so he wouldn¡¯t be tempted to invade her space again; she hoped anyway.


    ¡°I know you aren¡¯t like him,¡± Juzo was saying. ¡°I know you want to help Baisho.¡±


    His words needled her, crawling under her skin like skittering insects. It felt like more of an invasion than his touch had been, as though he had pulled a secret from the depths of her being.


    Lian utilized every ounce of her training to keep a straight face. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you at the recruitment rallies, Lian.¡± His tone and expression were both dubious. ¡°You can¡¯t fool me. I came to tell you we¡¯re doing another one tomorrow morning.¡± He swallowed, seeming nervous again. ¡°You should sign up.¡±


    ¡°But, my father¡ª¡± It was a flimsy argument, but she tried to make it anyway. At least until Juzo interrupted her.


    ¡°He has no power over you, Lian. You¡¯re an adult. You don¡¯t need his blessing.¡± He went on, but she wasn¡¯t listening anymore.


    Could she really go against her father¡¯s wishes? He had expressly forbidden her to get involved and she knew him well enough to be certain he was serious. If she did this, would he still love and accept her?


    Of course he will. He¡¯s my father!


    ¡°I¡¯ll come.¡± It was her turn to interrupt Juzo. ¡°But I can¡¯t promise anything. I need to think. Thanks for coming, I guess.¡±


    Juzo made to stop her, but Lian shut the window in his face before he could fully protest. She was finished with the conversation and if he didn¡¯t leave, she had no qualms alerting Taoru to his presence. Let him handle the errant captain, Lian wasn¡¯t lying when she said she needed to think.


    With the shade pulled down, Lian was relieved that she could no longer be seen by Juzo. Having him this close to her room was uncomfortable enough and she considered calling out to Taoru anyway, but if she did that it might hurt her chances at being accepted into the military. It was in that moment she realized her mind was already made up.


    Thoughts of Captain Juzo evaporated. Lian swallowed the lump in her throat, her mouth suddenly very dry. For the first time in her life, she was making a conscious decision to disobey her father. Tomorrow morning she wasn¡¯t just going to observe the rally, she was going to join the military herself.

 Chapter 13: Wujun - At Least You Didnt Piss Yourself

    LATE NOVEMBER 844 AQE


    While the swordsman swung angrily at the gloomy depths where Naizen had disappeared, Wujun let out a heavy breath and lowered the weapon to his side. It took him a few moments to process that the encounter was over and they had survived mostly unscathed. As the adrenaline wore off, the young man, who had only ever dreamed of swordplay despite the long hours spent training, felt his body shake.


    The sword slipped from his trembling hand, and he staggered backward a couple steps before his knees finally gave out. He consoled himself that at least he hadn¡¯t taken a life. That was a weight and responsibility he wasn¡¯t ready to carry, an innocence he hoped to maintain for as long as possible. Nevertheless, the realization that he¡¯d just lived through his first battle twisted his stomach into painful knots. He groaned and leaned forward, afraid he was about to vomit; nothing came out despite his body¡¯s attempt to purge itself.


    Suddenly, gentle arms were around him, steadying him as his stomach continued its pointless heaving. He grasped at the arm, drawing strength from the cool metal that met his quivering fingers.


    ¡°You¡¯re fine, kid. Let it out.¡± Kentai¡¯s soothing voice was like a beacon in the fog, guiding him out of the forest. ¡°It¡¯s over now.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me¡­¡± Wujun tried to speak through gasps. ¡°You must think I¡¯m¡­¡±


    Fingers brushed tenderly through his pale hair, sending a shiver of a different sort through him. ¡°Not at all. Your first combat is always a bit of a shock, but it gets easier,¡± Kentai assured. There was no judgment in his tone, no scorn, only sincerity and understanding. Then he chuckled. ¡°At least you didn¡¯t piss yourself, eh?¡±


    Already feeling better, Wujun laughed weakly and nodded. ¡°That¡¯s true. I don¡¯t think I made a fool of myself, anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say you fought well.¡± There was a tinge of something in Kentai¡¯s voice. Was it nervousness? ¡°Come on, I¡¯d best get you home.¡±


    In the next instant, Kentai was helping him back to his feet and brushing dirt off his clothes. His expression was guarded, determined. That same haunted sheen dominated the large man¡¯s gaze, betraying that his thoughts were harried. Was it something Wujun had said? Or was it because Naizen had escaped?


    Kentai¡¯s former acquaintance remained at the forefront of Wujun¡¯s mind as they started down the road again. It was then he remembered those who hadn¡¯t been so fortunate, their bodies left behind in the alley.


    ¡°What about the dead?¡± Wujun asked, pausing to look back.


    Kentai raised his arm, blocking the street behind them from view. His hand was heavy on Wujun¡¯s shoulder and for a second, he thought the swordsman was shaking. ¡°Don¡¯t look back,¡± he replied in a grave, stricken tone. ¡°Never look back.¡±


    He glanced up, hoping to gain a measure of clarity by reading his companion¡¯s expression, but the handsome planes of his face were cast in stark shadows. All he could distinguish was the grim set of his chiseled jaw and the downward slope of his thin lips into a frown.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    They walked most of the way in silence after that. Wujun could feel Kentai brooding beside him and was hesitant to interrupt. It wasn¡¯t until the cottage came into view and their time together was nearly at an end, that he worked up the courage to speak again.


    ¡°Kentai,¡± he ventured, his voice quiet, timid. ¡°Naizen, I saw him create fire out of nothing and well¡­¡± There was no reaction, no comment, and so he pressed on. ¡°I¡¯ve read about those who used to exist who were capable of such feats. They were called¡ª¡±


    ¡°Zosara,¡± Kentai finished. He stopped in his tracks but didn¡¯t turn or otherwise look at Wujun. ¡°You want to know if he¡¯s a Zosara.¡± It was not a question.


    Hesitantly, Wujun nodded. ¡°Is he?¡±


    There was a long silence, in which the only noise came from the nearby rustling trees and the distant howl of a wolf somewhere beyond the town. If he didn¡¯t know any better, Wujun might have suspected Kentai had fallen asleep on his feet. Just when he was becoming uncomfortable, the large man finally answered.


    ¡°What if he is? What will you do?¡±


    It was not what Wujun was expecting to hear, and he frowned in confusion. ¡°What do you mean? I don¡¯t understand.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m only trying to make sense of what my eyes told me happened. And besides, I¡­¡± His knitted brow tightened further. ¡°I felt something strange¡­ A pull, a¡­ kinship, almost.¡± He swiped his hand over his face, frustrated that he couldn¡¯t better articulate what was on his mind.


    Kentai¡¯s sudden touch startled him. The swordsman was finally looking at him now, his eyes glittering in the silvery light of the moon, his countenance soft. ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± he breathed, his fingers gingerly brushing the scratch on Wujun¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± He felt his face get hot and he shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject¡­¡± Wujun tried to say it with authority, but the way Kentai was regarding him made it difficult. The words instead came out sounding petulant to his ears.


    Kentai released a sigh and dropped his hand. ¡°Yes, then. He¡¯s a Zosara. Satisfied?¡±


    Somehow, he wasn¡¯t. He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his lip for a moment, before speaking again. ¡°So, when Naizen called you ¡®brother¡¯, did he mean you¡¯re a¡ª¡±


    He stopped the second he saw the flash of irritation on the other man¡¯s face. That was all he needed to know the truth of the matter, anyway. It was as much an affirmation as any spoken word could have been. Not to mention, the strange tug was ever present when he was near Kentai as well. Was it magical affinity he was sensing? Did it mean that he could detect them? He wanted so badly to voice the questions aloud, but he didn¡¯t think now was the best time; his new friend did not appear open to further discussing the topic.


    ¡°I should go. If the guard spots us, it¡¯ll be nothing but chaos and scandal.¡± Wujun laughed nervously, reaching around to rub at the back of his neck. He wanted to peek at the handsome face one more time, but he was afraid of what he might see there. Had he pried too much and ruined any chance of getting to know the swordsman better? He deeply hoped not; this was the closest he¡¯d ever come to having any sort of friend and it felt wonderful.


    Wujun turned, intent on sneaking back over the wall and creeping to the window without being seen. A large hand caught his and held him in place.


    ¡°Sneak out again tomorrow tonight.¡± Kentai¡¯s sonorous voice was low and husky. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a proper drink, somewhere we can talk.¡±


    The request made Wujun¡¯s heart soar. Before he knew it, he had thrown his arms around Kentai¡¯s thick neck and was hugging him. Uncertain, the bigger man patted him awkwardly on the back in response. Once his mind caught up to what he¡¯d just done, Wujun¡¯s cheeks flushed red again and he pulled away quickly.


    ¡°S-sorry.¡± Despite his embarrassment, he was still smiling happily. ¡°I¡¯ve just never¡­ had a friend before,¡± he confessed.


    ¡°Oh, well.¡± Kentai seemed to regain himself and suddenly ruffled Wujun¡¯s hair, his expression one of fondness. ¡°You do now, kid. Now go on. I¡¯ll keep watch until you¡¯re inside.¡±


    Wujun nodded, not sure he enjoyed having his hair tousled like a boy, but he knew the gesture was well meant so he tolerated it. ¡°Good night, then.¡± He turned to leave again, but a sudden thought occurred to him. ¡°Wait, how will I find you tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Kentai¡¯s silver tooth gleamed as he grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll be here.¡±

 Chapter 14: Wujun - Daydreams And Harsh Realities

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Kentai did not let Wujun down the next night. Or any night thereafter that they arranged to meet over the next month. Every time Wujun snuck out of the cottage, stole across the grounds, and scaled the wall, he found Kentai waiting nearby on the road. From there, they would walk together into town and visit the local inn, which was far more to Wujun¡¯s liking than The Fainting Damsel had been.


    They drank the finest alcohol Tiguri offered and ate the fattiest, greasiest meals Wujun had ever tasted. He¡¯d learned several local drinking songs, and just the day before, danced with a plain, but sweet barmaid. Later, when she brought them fresh drinks, she¡¯d invited him up to her room. Kentai had saved him from answering, asserting loudly that he didn¡¯t like to share, and then dragging Wujun close to his side possessively. She¡¯d gotten the hint and gone to pout at another table. At first, he¡¯d thought it a joke, but Kentai¡¯s arm remained draped intimately over his shoulder until they¡¯d left hours later.


    His cheeks flushed as he thought about how warm and safe he had felt being so close to Kentai. Even Soki, who was obligated by duty to protect him to the point of giving her own life if necessary, had never made him feel so secure. There was something about the way those steel-gray eyes regarded him, how gentle they became, that stirred feelings inside Wujun that were both exciting and frightening.


    He turned his gaze to the window, taking in the grounds and the wall beyond. The wind played through the verdant grass, making the leaves and branches of the trees dance rhythmically. His mind wandered, escaping his body which was trapped inside the cottage, and ventured beyond, seeking Kentai. Where was he now? What did he do during the day? Did he live here in town? Or was he staying at the inn?


    They¡¯d talked every night for the last four nights, including their first meeting, and yet Wujun had thought to ask none of these questions. During their second encounter, he¡¯d fought hard not to bring up Naizen or Zosara again, fearing he might offend the man. In fact, he still hadn¡¯t mentioned them, or why Naizen had called him ¡®deathfang¡¯, either. It was frustrating. He had so much he wanted to discuss but lacked the nerve to ask when Kentai was near.


    He let out a sigh and rested his chin in his hand, telling himself tonight he¡¯d do it. He¡¯d summon the courage and ask Kentai everything that was on his mind.


    Or maybe, he considered, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a lazy smile, I¡¯ll take one look into his eyes and forget everything like I do every night¡­


    Thwack!


    A rolled up parchment struck Wujun harmlessly upside the head, shattering his daydreams and dragging him back to the stuffy library in the cottage. Goratsu was standing over him, a peevish frown on his narrow face.


    ¡°Young Master, if you would like to daydream, kindly do so on your own time,¡± he chastised, being far more forthcoming with his criticism than he normally was. ¡°I understand that studying the fall of the Qin Empire is dismal compared to frolicking outdoors, but this history is important. It¡¯s your history and you should commit yourself to learning every facet of¡ª¡±


    Wujun blinked at him, having purposefully tuned out most of the lecture, only to be dragged back by the curious way Goratsu had labeled the lesson as his. ¡°My history? What do you mean?¡± he blurted, wishing in the back of his mind that his inquiries for Kentai would come so easily.


    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± Goratsu looked taken aback. As though he hadn¡¯t expected Wujun to be paying attention. Or was it more that he¡¯d slipped up and said something he shouldn¡¯t? ¡°I meant only that as a citizen of the land of Ryuutachi¡ª¡±


    Before he could fully recover, their conversation was interrupted by the door abruptly flying open. Soki stepped with purpose into the room, her face more somber than usual. It was for this reason alone the rebuke died on Goratsu¡¯s lips before it had even formed; something was wrong.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°The scouts have returned. We¡¯re leaving early.¡± Soki spoke in a clipped voice that left no room for argument.


    Goratsu nodded, his own demeanor shifting to match hers. ¡°When?¡± was all he asked.


    ¡°Tonight. The servants are already packing. We¡¯ll sleep a few hours and then leave before dawn¡­¡±


    Wujun¡¯s mind was racing to catch up. It seemed they had forgotten his presence and were speaking now as though he weren¡¯t in the room. But he was and the last thing he wanted to do was leave. Not now. Not when he had finally connected with someone he could call a genuine friend. It was too much for him to accept.


    He slammed his fist down on the table, cutting them off. ¡°No.¡± The word came out quietly, but it was heavy with emotion. ¡°No, I won¡¯t go. I want to stay here.¡± An image of Kentai flashed in his mind¡¯s eye and made his heart ache at the notion of never seeing his face again.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, young Master.¡± Goratsu began gathering the books that were laid out on the table. ¡°You knew our stay here was temporary, after all.¡±


    Wujun shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t care. We¡¯re not leaving.¡±


    Soki was staring at him, her gaze filled with suspicion. She¡¯d been wary of him since the first night he¡¯d snuck out and returned with a scratch on his cheek. He had tried to explain it away, claiming he must have been cut by a tree branch while sitting beneath it that morning, but it was clear she hadn¡¯t believed him.


    Goratsu, however, remained oblivious. ¡°Tsk! Come now, you didn¡¯t fuss this much when we left Kibesu and you grew up there. Now, enough foolishness. Go and pack your things. We don¡¯t have the time to argue.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Wujun challenged, shoving his chair away and standing up so quickly it clattered backward to the floor. ¡°Why don¡¯t we have time?¡±


    The tutor looked astonished that his pupil could be the source of such an outburst, and it took him a moment of gaping before he could form a response. ¡°That is not relevant to this discussion¡ª¡± It was the wrong answer.


    ¡°The fuck it isn¡¯t!¡± Wujun shouted back, having lost complete control of his temper. The thought of never seeing Kentai again was too much for him. Fear made him reckless, and he paid for it a second later.


    The flat of Goratsu¡¯s hand struck the side of Wujun¡¯s face. Not so hard it would leave a mark, but enough it brought involuntary tears to his eyes. For a fleeting second, the old man looked as though he regretted the action, then he shook it off and launched into a new lecture. ¡°Young man,¡± he scolded, ¡°I don¡¯t know where you came by such foul language, but don¡¯t you ever utter it in my presence again. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    Hands clenched into fists at his side, Wujun glowered at his tutor with open anger for the first time in his life. ¡°You forget.¡± He didn¡¯t raise his voice again, but it cracked as he spoke. ¡°You work for me, Goratsu. Or at least, you did. Far as I¡¯m concerned¡­¡± Despite his anger, the words that came next tore at his heart far more than he would ever admit. ¡°We¡¯re done.¡±


    Wujun shoved his way past the two of them and stalked out of the library without a backward glance. He had argued with Goratsu many times since he had joined the staff as Wujun¡¯s tutor more than a decade ago and yet such bitter words had never passed between them, let alone physical blows.


    By the time he reached his room, tears were streaming down his cheeks. He swatted them away, irritated with himself. Wujun had decided. He wouldn¡¯t leave, not without Kentai at the very least. He wasn¡¯t sure if he could convince the swordsman to join them or if Kentai would mind if Wujun stayed in Tiguri with him, but no matter what, he would not be parted. It didn¡¯t matter he¡¯d only known him for a few weeks. Kentai was his friend, and he wasn¡¯t ready to lose him yet. Not if there was any other way to stay together.


    Resolved, though still heart sick from his fight with Goratsu, Wujun gathered the few belongings he cared about and threw them in a leather satchel. This comprised of a worn book he was told had been his father¡¯s favorite and an antique hairpin that had belonged to his mother. Otherwise, he packed only a change of clothes and his other personal essentials.


    It didn¡¯t matter to him now that it wasn¡¯t dark, that Kentai wouldn¡¯t be waiting. He didn¡¯t care about hiding anymore. Let them know he had left. He had no intention of ever coming back. Still, he left via the window, not wanting to create a scene should someone try to stop him or Soki attempt to follow. It was better if they discovered him missing rather than saw him departing.


    Once out the window and down the tree onto the ground, Wujun set his mind on his destination. He would look for Kentai first at the inn and if he wasn¡¯t there, then he¡¯d search until he found the swordsman even if it took all night.


    Wujun was so focused on what came next, he didn¡¯t notice the Shadow lurking behind him.

 Chapter 15: Lian - Go Home And Knit A Sweater

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Water splattered Lian¡¯s boots and the hem of her dress with every step she took. It had rained during the night, a heavy cleansing rain judging by how deep some puddles were. The warm front coming from the coast was the only reason it hadn¡¯t been snow. That would have been more bearable. She didn¡¯t particularly care for damp weather and hated the feel of being soggy. At this early hour, with her mood so bleak, the gloominess seemed rather fitting.


    It¡¯ll all probably freeze tomorrow¡­ The glum thought was a whisper in the back of her mind.


    She¡¯d awoken much earlier than usual so she could slip out of the house without her father noticing. They hadn¡¯t spoken to each other since their argument. Lian stayed in her room, even when Taoru had brought dinner. She¡¯d felt too guilty to enjoy the meal she should have been the one to prepare but forced herself to eat it anyway. There was enough hurt between them right now without adding something else to the pile, and after all the exertion, her body was hungry.


    This morning, she¡¯d had to skip swiping something out of the pantry for breakfast. The sight of Taoru asleep in a chair in the main room of the house had taken her by surprise. She didn¡¯t want to risk disturbing him and getting herself caught awake so early. Not only did she want to avoid a conversation, she also didn¡¯t want him figuring out what she was about to do.


    Lian¡¯s resolve had never been more firm. She had made this decision of her own free will, and nothing her father said would change her mind now. Discussing it would only drive the wedge further between them. She hoped he would understand if the deed was already done and he could no longer do anything to stop it. Perhaps then he would see how much this meant to her¡­


    Turning the last street corner, Lian wasn¡¯t surprised to see young men were already gathered in the courtyard outside the warlord¡¯s estate. She wondered how many, like her, had snuck out and how many in contrast were goaded into being here by their families. By a rough count, there were only five or six in attendance today. She had been present not so long ago when the recruits were squeezed into the open space like fish caught in a net. The irony of that comparison was not lost on her.


    Standing near the gate, flanked by several soldiers, Captain Juzo stood at attention. His eyes surveyed the bunch that had shown up, but his face held no expression. If he had any strong thoughts on the matter, he kept them to himself. That is until he saw Lian striding up. For a second, he seemed pleased but embarrassment washed it away, his skin flushing.


    Lian didn¡¯t let this sway her. She didn¡¯t care about his feelings; she was here to become a true warrior.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to volunteer,¡± she announced boldly, stopping just in front of Juzo. ¡°I want to serve Warlord Nagisa.¡±


    Before Juzo could settle on a reply, one of the young men let out a bark of laughter. It earned him a withering glare not only from Lian but the captain as well. The heckler was not deterred.


    ¡°Go home and knit a sweater or something, girl.¡± He elbowed his buddies, who nodded, muttering agreement. ¡°Little dolls like you have no place going to war.¡±


    Fire flashed through Lian¡¯s chest, reflecting in her gaze as she turned fully to face the pest. ¡°What¡¯d you call me?¡± she challenged.


    ¡°Oh, you heard me, doll.¡± His friends chortled, one patting him on the back like he¡¯d just achieved the biggest accomplishment of his life. ¡°I know who you are¡­ You¡¯re the sculptor¡¯s daughter.¡± He crept toward her, not realizing he was only digging himself deeper. ¡°Why don¡¯t you run home and tell him to come sign himself up instead of sending a little girl in his place? Better yet, don¡¯t. Warlord Nagisa needs warriors, not cowards.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Lian felt like he had reached into the depth of her soul and dragged the darkest, vilest thought from within her that he could find. It squirmed in the open air, goading her, mocking her, and she had no defense because it had come from her. She was dimly aware of Juzo trying to step in and tell the young recruit to back off, but his efforts came too late¡­


    It happened so quickly she didn¡¯t remember the exact moment she¡¯d decided to swing. Fueled by her self-contempt, Lian was already in motion, her fist connecting with the jerk¡¯s jaw so hard there was an audible crack.


    As his body dropped to the flagstone with a thud, the rest of the men in the courtyard stared in dumbfounded shock at the small woman who had just laid out a man twice her size in one blow. Even Captain Juzo looked stunned.


    Feeling good for the first time since nearly dying the day before, Lian quirked her lips into a frightening grin. ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°Now, hold on¡ª¡± Juzo raised his arms and started forward, but he was once again far too late.


    One of the young man¡¯s friends hurled himself at Lian, meaning to tackle her, but she sidestepped out of his path. Simultaneously, she raised her foot up, just enough so that as he flew by, it caught his leg, tripping him. By then, the others were leaping at her as well, all of them making a unanimous decision to teach her a lesson in respect.


    Lian¡¯s inner fire roared within her, yearning to be freed, to purge the courtyard of everyone and everything. Perhaps then the festering doubt that had been called into the light would also be snuffed out, and she would return to being the girl who revered and adored her father. She fought the tears that threatened to fill her eyes with the same ferocious strength she used to fight the young men.


    She strained against the impulse to lose control, struggling to let her fire out in minuscule bursts. She¡¯d been taught to use it as an accelerant, to increase her power and velocity, never to let the flames themselves show lest her true abilities be revealed.


    Control your emotions. Anger has no place in your heart!


    Taoru¡¯s voice echoed faintly in her mind, but she could barely hear it over the inferno raging in her ears. She was drowning in pain, sick to her very core at all she had thought, said, and done. Her father¡¯s hurt face flashed in her mind, tearing at her fragile control even more.


    What am I doing here? When did I become a terrible daughter? I don¡¯t want to be here! I want my¡ª!


    She caught a glancing blow from one of her assailant¡¯s fists and felt the world rush back to her. Knocked off balance, she threw up her hand and conjured a gout of flame in order to compensate. The move kept her from being thrown off her feet and gave her enough momentum to deliver her own strike. Unfortunately, it had also given someone the opportunity to get behind her; thick, muscular limbs grappled her torso, locking her arms to her sides.


    Lian started laughing, still half-crazed by her rampaging emotions. She summoned fire, imagining it boiling in her belly, penetrating through her muscle and sinew into her skin like a cast-iron furnace. Two of the goons raced forward, fists raised to deliver so-called justice to the stupid girl who had dared attack them all head-on. Not a single blow landed.


    Her laughter turned into a cry of anguish and then was drowned out as a great plume of fire burst from her mouth. The young men in front of her yelled and dove out of the way, narrowly escaping the fire Zosara¡¯s searing breath. The one holding her shouted as well and let go, his hands and clothes scorched by the excessive heat pouring through her body.


    Though it only lasted seconds, Lian¡¯s blatant display of magic was enough to stop the brawl in its tracks. None of the men looked like they wanted to keep fighting her, even as she collapsed to one knee, gasping for air. Likewise, the soldiers all hesitated, looking to Captain Juzo for guidance.


    Barely aware of her surroundings, Lian didn¡¯t see the brief, gleeful smile that flitted across Juzo¡¯s face. She was just awakening to the realization of what she¡¯d done, terror wrapping like black tendrils around her heart. In that moment, she understood what Taoru had been trying to teach her, why he had not wanted her to fight. It all fell into place far too late for Lian to take his lessons to heart.


    ¡°A Zosara¡­?¡± someone whispered, their voice caught between fear and reverence. The statement was followed by more murmuring and uncertainty.


    Lian pushed herself back to her feet, ignoring the exhaustion caused by using all her energy in that one instant. She wasn¡¯t sure what would happen now, but she knew that getting home was her sole focus; Taoru would know what to do!


    ¡°Easy now, Lian¡­¡± Juzo was trying to advance, his steps cautious, like he was approaching a wild animal. ¡°By law, I must take you into custody¡­¡±


    She was shaking her head, shifting away from him, knowing with absolute certainty she couldn¡¯t surrender herself. ¡°No, I¡­¡± She glanced around and saw the street openings were blocked by guards.


    Damn!


    There was only one way out now.


    Lian spun on the spot and bolted for the courtyard wall.

 Chapter 16: Kentai - What The Fuck Am I Doing?

    What the fuck am I doing?


    The question had been on Kentai¡¯s mind for weeks now. He¡¯d intended to leave the doomed town of Tiguri after allowing himself a night or two to rest and resupply. Then he would head over the mountains into Baisho Province where the bulk of Tzulan¡¯s savage horde couldn¡¯t easily follow. Meeting Wujun had dashed those plans.


    He didn¡¯t care about the rumors circulating that Kibesu had fallen, that the warlord¡¯s army was pressing north to claim every scrap of land between the mountains and the river. Kentai felt as though he had to remain, had to be sure Wujun escaped the coming slaughter, and yet every time he had the chance to bring it up, the nerve escaped him. The swordsman didn¡¯t want such darkness to interrupt their time together.


    Kentai buried his face in his palm, fingers tangling in his messy bangs, and growled his frustration. At this hour of the day, the modest inn was empty. Not even the staff were here, for they had heard the same news he had; death was coming as a conquering army. Those who could were attempting to flee over the mountains, despite them being unmapped and home to many dangers. The hope of safety on the other side would lure many to gruesome ends, but no fate was worse than what awaited those who remained.


    Horrific deeds were done to those Tzulan¡¯s horde defeated. Though he had not been there himself, Kentai had heard plenty of tales about the decade long Taiku War. It had been more than two years since its end and still men whispered of it on dark nights. How Warlord Tzulan had accepted their surrender and then ridden into the last remaining Taiku encampment under the guise of peace but instead, slaughtered everything. Not just men and women, but children and livestock, as well. To anyone foolish enough to make the journey, the Taiku Chieftain¡¯s body, now little more than bones, was on display at Tzulan¡¯s fortress in the Rotted Wood. It served as a reminder to those who would dare stand against him of the end they would suffer.


    In all his years, Kentai had seen a lot of brutality and still, the senseless killing did not sit right with him. Perhaps it was because of his own curse that he understood so well the weight of death. Taking a life tainted you in a way he didn¡¯t believe could be washed away. That blood coated your very soul, the ramifications like ripples in a pond, affecting more than just one life¡­


    Springing up from the table, the swordsman stalked over to the empty bar and, leaning over it, swiped the first bottle his fingers came into contact with. Since the innkeeper and his family were gone, there was no need to wait for service or to bother paying. As a last courtesy, the old man had told Kentai to make himself at home and when he finally departed, to leave the door open for any poor sod who might need a place to lay his head.


    Stupid, altruistic fool¡­


    Kentai knew without a doubt that once he left, the inn would be picked clean by vagrants and looters. Not that it mattered, he supposed. When Tzulan¡¯s army came through, the place would likely get torched along with the rest of the town. Grunting at his own sour mood, he popped the cork on the bottle and raised it to his lips.


    Shit. Wine.


    He¡¯d much have preferred ale or something a little stronger, but booze was booze at this point. Gulping it down, he chuckled inwardly at how appalled a more refined individual would be at the sight of him chugging wine instead of sipping it. The thought reminded him that drinking alone was no fun and he immediately lowered the bottle again as his dreary ruminations crept back to the forefront of his mind.


    What the fuck am I doing?


    He needed a new plan, one that took Wujun into account. Regardless of having just met the young man, Kentai was not about to abandon him. He still didn¡¯t know what he was exactly, Shadow or Zosara, but ultimately he knew it didn¡¯t matter. There was something inexplicable about Wujun that Kentai was drawn to, a feeling deep down in his gut urging him to protect the kid no matter what.


    If he didn¡¯t consider it to be a lot of nonsense, he might attribute his feelings to fate or destiny, but to Kentai such notions were rubbish.


    Setting the bottle back down on the bar top, the swordsman let out a sigh and wiped absently at his mouth. They couldn¡¯t stay here, he knew that for certain, but could he take Wujun across the mountains? Would his household allow it? Surely, they had a contingency in mind when coming to Tiguri and were already making their own preparations to leave. If that were the case, then he could simply tag along, whether they liked it or not.


    ¡°Kentai!¡±


    The sound of Wujun¡¯s voice and the door slamming open, startled him. His hand fell to the hilt of his utzu, and he spun toward the commotion, ready to draw and defend himself if necessary. Once his mind caught up to his body, however, he allowed himself to relax a fraction.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Wujun, it¡¯s early.¡± He glanced out the window to be sure he hadn¡¯t lost track of the time and saw it was barely early evening. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°They want me to leave!¡± The words burst from Wujun¡¯s lips and as he approached, the shimmer of angry tears was evident in the corner of his eyes. ¡°I told them no. I refuse to be treated like a child any longer! Kentai, I¡¯m¡­¡± He hesitated only for a heartbeat, then asserted passionately, ¡°I¡¯m staying with you!¡±


    Kentai couldn¡¯t keep the smile from tugging at his lips. Despite how upset Wujun obviously was, despite the impending invasion, despite everything, he was relieved. No matter how foolish it was to feel this way, to let himself become entangled in the life of another, he realized he¡¯d been afraid of parting with Wujun. It was simply too soon, he told himself. A few weeks wasn¡¯t long enough to know anyone. He needed more time to learn and experience as much of the young man as he could.


    ¡°Okay.¡± He said it far more nonchalantly than he felt, as though he were agreeing on what they would have for dinner. ¡°But I¡¯m not staying in Tiguri either.¡±


    Wujun gasped and some of the tension melted from his lean frame. ¡°You¡¯re not? Why? What¡¯s going on, Kentai? Tell me, please!¡±


    The pleading in his pale, aqua eyes was enough to make Kentai want to answer any question. That was not why he hesitated to reply. Did Wujun really not know? Why wouldn¡¯t his caretakers warn him of the danger?


    ¡°Sunaizo Province is being invaded.¡± He couldn¡¯t come up with a single reason not to be honest, not when death was looming overhead. ¡°The capital fell three nights ago and according to the refugees who fled, a large part of the army split off and is heading here.¡±


    Wujun staggered a couple of steps and sat down heavily into the nearest chair. His face was contorted by shock and grief, his eyes searching blindly as he tried to make sense of the news. ¡°But¡­ why here?¡± he finally asked, turning his imploring gaze back to Kentai. ¡°They have Kibesu. What else do they want?¡±


    Kentai joined him at the table, pulling a chair around so he could sit closer to the young man. When he was seated, he reached over and put a hand on Wujun¡¯s arm, hoping to comfort him somewhat. ¡°I figure because Tiguri is the next biggest town, so it¡¯s a priority. There are a few villages to the east, but they¡¯re farming communities. Tiguri, however¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­ Is where someone might form a resistance.¡± Wujun nodded, understanding dawning on him. ¡°Who¡¯s invading us and why? Sunaizo is mostly wilderness and plains, there¡¯s nothing here. We¡¯ve always relied on trade with Zukawa Province, so what do we have that would make someone want to conquer us?¡± His brow was knitted in concentration. Now that his initial shock had worn off, he was thinking constructively, strategically.


    The swordsman shrugged, not having much of an answer for him. ¡°Zukawa¡¯s warlord, Tzulan, has proclaimed war on all the provinces. Sunaizo is just the easiest to get to. Or he¡¯s afraid we¡¯ll stab him in the back while he¡¯s laying siege to the western provinces¡­ Not sure anyone in these parts could marshal enough of an army to pull that off, though. Kibesu¡¯s government barely functioned on a good day¡­¡± He trailed off when he noticed Wujun¡¯s frown deepen.


    ¡°How did I not know any of this? I feel so stupid!¡± He kicked at the empty chair next to him, sending it scooting across the floor with a high-pitched scraping noise. ¡°Don¡¯t say it¡¯s because it was kept from me, either! All these nights I¡¯ve been sneaking out and not once did I sense that anything was out of place. I¡¯m such a fool¡­¡± He leaned forward and hid his face in his palms.


    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough wallowing.¡± Kentai wasn¡¯t about to coddle him. ¡°The people here wanted to believe they were safe. Most of the locals are refusing to leave even now. Nobody wants to deal with the truth, that even though Tiguri is on the ass end of the province, the war won¡¯t stop at the capital. Besides,¡± he let out a sigh, then reached over to push the young man¡¯s hands away from his face, ¡°I was protecting you from it, too. And myself really¡­ I¡¯d much rather share drinks with you than think about war.¡±


    The confession drew Wujun¡¯s gaze back to Kentai¡¯s face. They sat in silence like this for several moments, staring at each other in the otherwise empty inn, until Wujun finally let out a sigh. ¡°So, now we leave? But where do we go?¡±


    Kentai shifted so he could rest his elbow on the back of his chair. ¡°Through the mountains to Baisho Province. The city of Kurokume is the gateway to the west. From there, we can go wherever we want.¡± He regarded Wujun, studying his face as he added, ¡°I imagine your caretakers were planning a similar course.¡±


    ¡°To hell with them,¡± Wujun spat, hurt and anger washing over his round face, contorting it into an expression that didn¡¯t suit him.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Kentai growled, ¡°watch your language.¡±


    The aqua eyes, as bright and clear as a mountain lake, flashed with momentary annoyance at being chastised, but then, the darkness abated. ¡°That¡¯s pretty rich coming from you.¡± Wujun¡¯s features lit up with a smile, his voice bright and carefree again. This was how he should be, not weighed down by the problems of the world, but shining with mirth and joy.


    ¡°Yeah, well, no need for my bad habits to rub off on you,¡± he answered, unable to stop himself from grinning.


    There was a tightness in his chest, warm and pleasant, but also aching. The longer Wujun smiled up at him, the deeper the sensation ran until finally, he couldn¡¯t keep it contained a second more.


    Kentai reached over and brushed his fingers against Wujun¡¯s cheek. There was still a faint mark where a blade had scratched him on the night of their first meeting. He caressed it with his thumb, then leaned closer as his fingers tangled themselves in short, pale hair.


    ¡°K-kentai¡­?¡± Wujun¡¯s voice was soft, timid, uncertain.


    To the unspoken question, there could be only one answer. Tenderly, Kentai pressed his lips to the almost healed cut. He heard Wujun¡¯s breath catch in his throat, but he didn¡¯t pull away or protest. Taking this as permission to continue, the swordsman put his other hand on the young man¡¯s chin and nudged him to turn his head.


    Wujun obeyed the direction and was met by a hungry, passionate kiss.

 Chapter 17: Wujun - Its The Souls That Haunt Me

    DECEMBER 844 AQE


    Wujun had never felt the bliss of another person¡¯s mouth against his own. Of every soul in the world he could have shared his first kiss with, he couldn¡¯t think of anyone he¡¯d rather it have been than Kentai. When he was an old man recounting the thrilling days of his youth, he would remember this day above all others. Not for the fear of impending war, not for the liberation of having stood up to his handlers, but for this fleeting, amazing kiss.


    Is this really happening? Is Kentai really kissing me? My heart is racing, I¡¯m afraid it might burst from my chest¡­ I can¡¯t breathe either. Oh, but I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t need to breathe. I just need Kentai!


    His face was flushed from his cheeks all the way to his ears and his hands trembled, but it was still the best moment of his entire life. He prayed it would never end. That the world would simply stop moving, allowing him to live forever in this one, bright instant where only warmth and tenderness existed.


    And Kentai. It had to be Kentai. Nobody else would do, nobody else could taste so wonderful, despite the cheap wine on his breath and the chaos life had devolved into.


    Unfortunately, time refused to hold still and allow their embrace to last without interruption. The moment of intimacy and vulnerability had unlocked the questions in Wujun that burned hotter than the passion in his groin. He made a promise to himself, even as Kentai¡¯s hand strayed to his chest, that he would never again accept secrets. If he was going to give himself over to the sweet rush of sensations, then he had to know the truth first. If Kentai couldn¡¯t be honest, then they could never be more than friends.


    It was the hardest thing he¡¯d ever done, parting his lips from Kentai¡¯s, but Wujun was resolute. He had been kept in the dark his whole life and he simply couldn¡¯t endure secrets from Kentai another moment longer.


    ¡°I need to know¡­¡± He was panting as though he¡¯d just ran the length of the town. He had to force the words out even as Kentai grumbled low in his throat and trailed teasing kisses down Wujun¡¯s neck. ¡°Please.¡± He shivered, still clinging tightly to the swordsman. ¡°I think I know¡­ what you are and I don¡¯t care¡­ I just want to know why¡­¡±


    Kentai¡¯s hand was back in Wujun¡¯s hair, and his mouth had found its way to his ear. Something warm and wet flicked his earlobe and he nearly lost his resolve. Shuddering, he gasped, trying to clear the wanton fog from his mind and hold to the last shred of what he needed to say.


    ¡°Kentai, please¡­¡± he sighed, his head spinning and heat throbbing throughout his entire body. ¡°Why? Why did he try to name you ¡®death¡¯?¡± Finally, it was out, but the relief he felt was short-lived.


    One minute, Kentai was tender and seductive, the next it was like an icy breeze had passed between them. The swordsman went rigid and pulled away, taking with him the smoky haze of passion that a moment ago had been pleasantly suffocating. There was a guarded expression on his face now, his eyes as hard as the metal gauntlets on his arms.


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡± Kentai challenged in a curt, unfriendly tone.


    Regret slammed into Wujun like a blow from a hammer. This was what he had feared would happen and now that it had, he wasn¡¯t sure how to fix it. His mind raced and his heart ached. He tried to reach out for Kentai, needing a measure of reassurance, but the other man chose that moment to stand up and create a wall of physical space by stepping away.


    All I have is the truth¡­


    The thought cut through the mire forming in his mind, like shelter in a raging storm. All he could do now was be honest, explain himself, and hope Kentai would understand. If he couldn¡¯t, then perhaps he was better off¡­ Wujun didn¡¯t let the notion, born of despair, take root and instead shook it away by rising as well. He didn¡¯t close the distance, but he turned so they were facing one another again.


    ¡°All my life there have been secrets,¡± he confessed, forcing himself to meet the stony gaze, willing his first friend in the entire world to understand. ¡°Everyone I¡¯ve ever known has hidden things from me. Important things, like the fact my parents died when I was still an infant and that I had to leave my home because it was being invaded!¡±


    The more he spoke, the more his chest ached. Tears stung his eyes and he fought them, not wanting to appear weak or childish. He paused, needing to catch his breath and regain some of his composure. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you¡¯ve done,¡± he started again. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you are. Please, no secrets¡­¡±


    He hadn¡¯t realized it, having been so focused on what he was saying to note Kentai¡¯s shifting demeanor. He was still wary, but his eyes were no longer hard and the tension in his shoulders had loosened.


    ¡°No secrets?¡± Kentai¡¯s voice was softer. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure,¡± Wujun answered without hesitation.


    They stared across at one another for a long, uncertain moment before the swordsman finally heaved a sigh. ¡°Fuck it.¡± He stepped over to the bar and dug out a couple of mugs and a bottle of alcohol. ¡°If we¡¯re doing this, then I¡¯m not doing it entirely sober. Come on, get your ass over here then.¡±


    Startled and a little confused at the sudden change in attitude, Wujun gaped for a moment before hurrying to sit at the bar with him.


    Kentai poured them each a modest portion before speaking again. ¡°It¡¯s probably swill,¡± he mused. ¡°I¡¯d wager my coin purse that old codger sold off the good shit or took it with him.¡± He put the bottle down with a clunk, then grabbed the mug nearest him and took a long, gulping drink.


    ¡°Fuck! Wine again.¡± Annoyed, he tossed the mug over his shoulder and resigned himself to continuing the conversation without the aid of alcohol.


    Wujun, who wasn¡¯t interested in liquor, pushed his untouched mug toward the swordsman as a peace offering. Kentai lifted his head, quirking his eyebrow before letting a slight smile play over his lips.


    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t go back to kissing?¡± he teased. ¡°You taste a lot better than wine¡­¡±


    The young man¡¯s cheeks flushed a deep red and he shook his head. ¡°No, not until everything is laid out on the table. No secrets, that¡¯s the deal.¡±


    Kentai turned somber again, but he wasn¡¯t cold this time. Whatever he was about to reveal, it must have weighed heavily on him. He spent several minutes in silence, his expression thoughtful. It would have been a lie had Wujun said he didn¡¯t feel some anxiety about what he was about to learn, but he¡¯d said he didn¡¯t care, that it wouldn¡¯t matter, and he was determined to hold true to that by keeping his face composed.


    Finally, Kentai began to explain, his voice hushed. ¡°Your suspicion the other night was correct. Naizen called me ¡®brother¡¯ because we¡¯re both¡­ Zosara.¡± He said the word with contempt and self-loathing. ¡°We met when I was about your age. I¡¯d been reckless, showed my power to the wrong people, and caught the attention of a Shadow. She¡¯d have killed me, too, if not for Naizen¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Shadow?¡± Wujun asked as the swordsman trailed off. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard this term before¡­¡±


    ¡°I know little about them, only what stories I got secondhand from Naizen.¡± Kentai was eyeing him now and seemed curious. ¡°The last Emperor, Qinsuto, is said to have founded their organization; the Circle of Shadows. Their one and only agenda was to hunt down and kill Zosara. They¡¯re damn good at it, too.¡±


    Kentai snatched up the remaining mug of wine and drained it in a single gulp. This gave Wujun a moment to consider what he¡¯d just learned. Were there really people out there who wanted to kill Kentai just for having the ability to use magic? It didn¡¯t sit right with him. Unjustified killing would never sit right with him.


    ¡°So, why ¡®death¡¯?¡± Wujun had a sinking feeling assassins weren¡¯t the worst part of Kentai¡¯s story, and he was eager to be done with the unpleasant retelling. ¡°Is it because you¡¯re so efficient at¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t say it aloud, didn¡¯t want to admit that someone he cared so much for might be a cold-blooded murderer.


    ¡°At killing?¡± Kentai finished for him instead. He seemed not to have any qualms about the matter. ¡°No. Not entirely, anyway. It¡¯s¡­ Wujun,¡± he put his hand on the young man¡¯s arm and gazed intently at him, ¡°I¡¯ve never told another living person what I can do. Usually they¡­ find out and none of them, not even Naizen, have ever looked at me the same way again.¡±


    Wujun adjusted so he could squeeze Kentai¡¯s hand, hoping to offer him reassurance. ¡°I think I guessed some of what you can do.¡± He offered a smile. ¡°The nails, remember? That was you, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    He nodded, half-heartedly returning the smile. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m attuned to metal. Naizen, as you saw, is attuned to fire.¡± He glanced down at their entwined fingers and for a second, the steel-gray eyes sparkled. ¡°Understand, Wujun, that many elements are entwined with different aspects of the world. For instance, air is often associated with life. Metal, or earth, as some call it, is associated with death.¡±


    ¡°I can figure out why air is life,¡± Wujun frowned, ¡°but why is metal and earth part of death? It makes no sense. Plants grow from the soil after all.¡±


    Now Kentai smiled for real, touched by the defense. ¡°Yes, Wujun, but where do we place our dead?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer. ¡°The lifeless, empty shells no longer animated by a human soul are buried within the earth, reclaimed by it.¡±


    ¡°But fire¡­¡± Wujun started but was cut off.


    ¡°Fire cleanses. It purges bodies afflicted by contagious diseases. Across Ryuutachi, the practice of burying the dead is the prevailing tradition. I¡¯ve no qualms with that; it is what it is.¡± His eyes were dark again, his mouth set in a grim line. ¡°Bodies are empty. It¡¯s the souls that haunt me. The souls that linger, trapped here because they can¡¯t relinquish their attachments to flesh and gold and whatever the hell else they were obsessed with in life. That is my fucked up curse, Wujun.¡± His voice broke, but he swallowed and kept going. ¡°I can see the spirits of the dead and I can speak with them, too. Even among other metal Zosara, this ability is considered¡­ an affliction.¡±


    Kentai pulled away then, withdrawing his hand and turning so most of his face was hidden. No matter how long he sat there, mulling over what he¡¯d just learned, Wujun couldn¡¯t figure out why the man hated himself so much. He didn¡¯t imagine seeing spirits was a pleasant experience, but considering he¡¯d braced himself to hear his friend was a mass murderer, it didn¡¯t seem so bad. Also, Wujun was sheltered and didn¡¯t share the same social superstitions that were otherwise commonplace.


    By the time he slid off the stool, Wujun had already decided. He moved to stand in front of Kentai, then held out his hand, allowing himself the satisfaction of brushing his fingertips against the other man¡¯s strong jawline.


    ¡°Look at me, Kentai,¡± he bade, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.


    If Kentai was surprised by the commanding manner, he didn¡¯t show it. He raised his face, his expression once again guarded; he was waiting to be shunned like so many times before.


    Wujun, however, was smiling at him and though he spoke with confidence, his cheeks turned bright red. ¡°I¡¯d really like it¡­ if you¡¯d kiss me again.¡±


    Now, shock flashed across Kentai¡¯s face, but it was soon replaced by a grin of his own. Before he could answer or move to oblige the young man, his expression changed once again, alerting Wujun to danger.


    The room erupted into chaos.

 Chapter 18: Lian - I Dont Think They Make An Umbrella For That

    Adrenaline had given Lian the energy to flee. She made it to the nearest wall and summoned a small jet of fire to propel herself just high enough that she could grab onto the edge. Then she dragged herself up and over without looking back. The shouts from Juzo and the other guards were enough to let her know they were already in pursuit.


    She didn¡¯t drop all the way to the ground just yet. Lian moved along the wall then flowed smoothly to a nearby tree. Her goal was to stay aloft as long as possible to throw them off her path. Once she was in the tree, its leaves mostly shielded her from below, allowing her to travel from there to an adjacent roof with some obscurity. At least she hoped by the time they saw her again, she¡¯d be far enough away that chasing her would be harder. Then she could slip to the ground and disappear completely.


    Of course, her plan didn¡¯t work out as well as she¡¯d hoped. No sooner had she landed on the tiled roof that a signal horn sounded behind her, using a specific pattern to alert every citizen and guard within earshot to the presence of a fugitive.


    Uh-oh¡­


    Lian sped off, splitting her attention between where she was stepping and where she intended to go next. Around her, the town was coming alive. Ordinary people were coming out of their houses to see what the fuss was about while guards were pouring through the streets, trying to head her off. Some had even joined her on the rooftops, though few of them could keep pace; Lian was much more nimble.


    Remaining above them kept her from getting herded into a trap, and so she maintained her altitude. All the while, she was heading toward the edge of town. Her only goal was to reach home; she would be safe at home. Taoru would always keep her safe. Still emotionally raw, she fought the guilt that rose to choke her and tried to maintain her focus on escaping. Everything else could wait!


    Pausing at the edge of a rooftop, Lian glanced around. There were no guards nearby that she could see. The rest were stuck at a particularly long jump that she had used magic propulsion to clear. Certain she was momentarily secure, she took her time as she stepped back, preparing her next jump.


    The leap was enhanced with a brief blast of flame, giving her just enough speed she landed squarely on the next roof. Only, there¡¯d been no way to tell before that the tiles were loose! Lian felt her feet slipping a second too late, and she stumbled forward before she could catch herself. She tried to find purchase, hands and legs flailing as she did so, but the ceramic shingles were slippery from the rain.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    She fell.


    A startled cry escaped her, followed by a grunt as something solid broke her fall. Disoriented, heart thudding loudly in her chest, it took Lian a moment to regain herself. That¡¯s when she saw what, or rather who, she¡¯d landed on.


    The young man who had been caught by surprise was clearly as dazed as she was. Dark mahogany hair fell into confused brown eyes that caught her gaze and held it as firmly as his hands were holding her waist. His grip was firm, his heartbeat rapid beneath her palms.


    He started to stammer an apology, changed his mind, and said instead, ¡°I was expecting it to rain more today,¡± he gave her a sheepish, lop-sided smirk, ¡°but the usual water, not people. I don¡¯t think they make an umbrella for that¡­¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­?¡± Lian blinked at him, caught off guard by how gentle his voice was. She hadn¡¯t realized yet she was sitting in his lap, their faces inches apart, and had totally forgotten the guards, too. ¡°Umbrella for¡­¡± It clicked. ¡°Oh! For people!¡± She giggled softly, feeling incredibly awkward all of a sudden.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± The crooked smile was still on his face. ¡°That was quite a fall¡­¡±


    She nodded, her brain feeling cloudy. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Are you¡­ Did I hurt you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think so,¡± he answered. ¡°Kind of hard to be certain. You¡¯re, um, still sitting on me¡­¡±


    Lian¡¯s eyes widened, and she let out a gasp. ¡°Sorry!¡±


    Embarrassed, she scrambled to her feet, trying not to bump or bruise him any more than she likely already had. As graceful as she usually was, Lian couldn¡¯t help feeling like she was all knees and elbows now.


    She¡¯d barely made it into a standing position, when her legs buckled. Lian stumbled forward against the man¡¯s chest just as he reached out to catch her. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was just that she was weak from exhaustion or if this strange fluttering in her belly was to blame for her sudden lack of coordination.


    ¡°Careful¡­¡± His face was so close she could feel the puff of breath on her cheek when he spoke. ¡°You¡¯re shaking. Are you sure you¡¯re not hurt?¡±


    Those bright eyes gleamed down at her, making her mouth go dry.


    Lian nodded. Exertion was weighing heavily on her now. All she wanted to do was lay down and never move again, but not yet! She had to get home! Though the urge to flee was strong, she continued standing there, leaning against the young man as though he were an ancient, stable oak tree that could hold her up forever¡­


    Recognition flashed across her face. She could sense him now, the subtle tug of power ebbing beneath the surface. ¡°You¡¯re a¡­¡±


    ¡°There she is! I found her!¡±


    Fear jolted Lian back into the moment, reminding her of the severity of her situation. Now wasn¡¯t the time to rest, no matter how badly she wanted to. She pulled herself away from the other Zosara, apologizing once more as she did so. By sheer willpower alone, she summoned her last reserve of strength and dashed down the street away from the pursuing guards.

 Chapter 19: Guankaran - No Good Carpenter Goes Unpunished

    Earlier That Same Morning


    Guankaran was certain it was going to rain today. The sky was bleak and the air heavy with moisture. He stood on his porch, hot tea cup in one hand, a tabloid in the opposite, perusing the news as he did every morning while sipping his favorite blend.


    Only when the cup was empty did he return inside to continue the rest of his routine. His life was made up of simple tasks, some might call it boring, but to Guankaran each one was a joy.


    First, he checked his bonsai projects. He had a plethora of tress and styles already, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from adding new ones every so often. Soon he¡¯d have a forest of them and that thought brought a smile to his lips. As he passed through what he called the green room where most of his plants resided, he spoke softly to them. His fingers would gently caress a leaf or branch as he made his watering rounds. If anyone asked, not that there was ever anyone present, he would attest that the conversations were just as good as any he¡¯d had with people.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that right?¡± He stopped next to his favorite bonsai, his eyes wandering over the twists and turns of its branches with admiration. The tree did not reply, but the young carpenter smiled as if it had.


    Then he moved on, pacing around the pots and tables until he reached the one that held all of his saplings. He leaned close to the green shoots, whispering this time in draconic as if he were telling them a secret. Still, there was no answer, but he knew that the smattering of magic was enough to keep them healthy and growing. Afterward, he gave them a sprinkling of water and with a gentle, ¡°goodbye for now,¡± he carried on.


    When he had completed his rounds, he took the time to empty the watering can and returned it to its proper place before leaving the room behind to head out back to the wood shed that served as his workshop.


    The first thing he always did was double check the orders for the month to see what he needed to work on first. He had them all memorized, but he performed this ritual just to be certain mistakes weren¡¯t made. He had inherited the business from his grandfather and he wasn¡¯t about to lower his standards even if he was the one in charge of operations now. Quality meant even more to him in this case, because there was nobody else to hold him accountable except himself.


    Rustling rice paper was the only sound that filled the shop for several minutes, until the task was completed and Guankaran flowed easily into the next. Today was the day he normally picked up lumber from the yard and that meant rather than start work on projects, he would have to leave to fetch the supplies first. He was in no danger of running out, but it was better to take care of this task before he ended up dirty and sweaty.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Unrushed, Guankaran closed up the shop and headed through the house to the front porch. He had just stepped onto the path when she fell from the sky and into his lap, altering the course of his day for better or worse.


    Guankaran found himself rooted in place as he watched the young woman run away, a slight frown furrowing his otherwise smooth brow. He could easily see she was in some sort of trouble, just from the fear that wafted off her. He¡¯d also sensed the magic within her, raw and unchecked, and only momentarily spent. It felt like the embers of a bonfire, hot and smoldering.


    The appearance of the guardsmen hadn¡¯t surprised him one bit either. It was the missing piece that put her situation into better perspective for him. They must disapprove of something she set on fire, he concluded.


    As the guards gave chase, Guankaran let out a little sigh. It wasn¡¯t every day a pretty girl fell out of the sky and into his lap. He could also sympathize with her predicament. Being a Zosara as well, he had learned at a young age to keep his own abilities a secret from others.


    It would be a shame if they caught her, I suppose¡­


    There were a few roots growing near the base of the house that he¡¯d been meaning to deal with at some point. Now was as good a time as any, and so, with a subtle motion of his hand, Guankaran coaxed them up from the ground. The knobby roots obeyed, breaking through moist dirt and stone, sprawling into the street to impede the guards¡¯ path.


    The first wave of men didn¡¯t see them until it was too late. By then, they were tumbling over the roots and one another. One guard thought he could jump the pile of vegetation and soldiers, but he wasn¡¯t quite agile enough and just made the situation worse for everyone who got caught beneath him.


    Guankaran allowed himself a small smirk before turning to meander off in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, he came face to face with a soldier whose sour expression said he¡¯d clearly seen the whole thing.


    The carpenter sighed again, this time through his nose. No good deed, so they say¡­


    ¡°Two Zosara in one day.¡± The markings on his uniform indicated the man was a captain. ¡°The warlord will be most pleased. Sergeant, take this man into custody, then send a runner for my horse; I know where the girl is heading¡­¡±


    As ordered, the sergeant, a wispy, lanky man, produced a pair of iron shackles and roughly began locking them around Guankaran¡¯s wrists. The feel of the crude metal made his skin itch, but the carpenter didn¡¯t resist, not when the place was swarming with soldiers. He¡¯d play along, at least for a little while.


    ¡°Do you want me to call the men back?¡± The sergeant¡¯s inquiry piqued Guankaran¡¯s interest.


    ¡°No,¡± the captain answered. ¡°Let Lian think we¡¯re closing in; that will ensure she runs straight home to daddy.¡±


    The soldier¡¯s icy grin and the tone of his voice made Guankaran uneasy. He turned to look again in the direction this Lian had run and wondered if his efforts had been wasted. In the end, he¡¯d done all he could to help her; whatever came next, she¡¯d have to sort out on her own.

 Chapter 20: Kentai - All I Wanted Was To Snog His Face Off

    One moment, Kentai was marveling at Wujun, preparing to stand up and grant his request. The next, he had pushed the young man away just as something sliced through the air toward them. If he had simply jumped aside, he likely wouldn¡¯t have been injured and it was possible Wujun wouldn¡¯t have been either, but there was no way he would gamble with the other¡¯s life. The stinging pain in his bicep was worth knowing that Wujun was unharmed.


    They didn¡¯t get a moment to regroup.


    Whoever had hurled the shuriken swung down from the rafters, dagger flashing in the candlelight. Judging by the small, lithe form, the attacker was a woman and she seemed not to have any interest in Wujun at all. Kentai caught the blade with his gauntlet and then tried to smash the other one down on her wrist, intending to break it. She saw the blow coming and disengaged, slipping back into the darkness with the grace and speed of a spider.


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± he muttered, reaching for his utzu. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to fuck around with a damn Shadow right now!¡±


    ¡°No, stop!¡± This came from Wujun. ¡°She¡¯s not a Shadow. It¡¯s Soki!¡± The young man moved back in front of Kentai, his eyes darting around the room, trying to find where the girl had gone. ¡°Soki, please, stop! He¡¯s a friend!¡±


    There was no answer, not in words.


    This time she came from behind, and had it not been for his peripheral vision, she would have been successful in sinking the blade into his neck. He dodged just in time to avoid the strike and even grabbed her arm.


    ¡°Stupid girl,¡± Kentai growled. ¡°Attacking me with my element¡­¡± He didn¡¯t need to speak a word, he reached out to the metal of the dagger, sensing its quality, its flaws, and used it to twist the blade as though it were as flimsy as grass.


    She was close enough he could see her dark eyes widen in surprise, though the rest of her expression remained unchanged. In the next second, she was moving again, relinquishing the now deformed weapon and attacking, this time with the goal of freeing herself.


    Kentai wasn¡¯t about to let her escape so easily. He countered the blow and tightened his grip, using the leverage he had to keep her off balance. To her credit, she didn¡¯t seem the least bit intimidated by his superior size. In fact, she expressed nothing. When he looked into her gaze, all he saw was emptiness, though by training or nature he couldn¡¯t tell.


    They exchanged several blows, neither willing to back down, even though Wujun was yelling for them to stop. Yanking her forward, Kentai slammed his head into hers hard enough that it was unpleasant for him as well. She took the worst of it, however, and when she staggered back, he let her go, allowing her to topple to the floor.


    ¡°I said stop!¡± Wujun cried, hurrying to step between them. ¡°Soki! Kentai! Listen to me!¡±


    Soki wasn¡¯t down long. She shook her head to clear the ringing and then skittered to her feet again. Her body fell naturally into the exact stance Wujun had used mere weeks ago in the alley. There was no doubt in Kentai¡¯s mind this young woman was a Shadow.


    ¡°Stand aside, Wujun,¡± she directed. It was clear she¡¯d bit the inside of her lip, either when she fell or Kentai struck her. She spat blood, her gaze fixed on the Zosara. ¡°I can see you have feelings but this man is not your friend. Now move, so I can do my duty.¡±Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Your duty?¡± Wujun was rooted in place. ¡°I thought your duty was protecting me and I¡¯m not in danger!¡±


    She growled, and blood dripped down her chin. ¡°Foolish boy! Get out of the way! You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Soki, I¡¯m ordering you to stop!¡± His voice was full of power and command, a power that made the hair on the back of Kentai¡¯s neck stand up. ¡°I am not a boy and I will not be treated like one any longer.¡± When he spoke again, he sounded much calmer, but his tone was still laced with authority. ¡°Kentai is part of my life now. You can accept that, or you can leave, but you will never attack him again. Do I make myself clear?¡±


    Brief hurt flickered across her face; the first sign Kentai had seen that she was capable of emotion. ¡°Wujun,¡± she implored, her hands balled into fists at her sides. ¡°He¡¯s a Zosara. Their kind are worse than vermin. You can¡¯t trust him!¡±


    ¡°Says the fucking assassin who¡¯s been lying to him all his life.¡± Kentai glowered over Wujun¡¯s head at her. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, this wasn¡¯t really a conversation he needed to be part of, but the irony of her statement had to be pointed out.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Wujun didn¡¯t give her the chance to quip back. ¡°It¡¯s true, then? You¡¯re¡­ a Shadow?¡±


    Her mouth snapped shut, her lips becoming a thin line.


    ¡°No secrets. Not anymore,¡± Wujun pressed. ¡°I care about you, Soki. We grew up together, but I will no longer tolerate secrets. Tell me the truth. Are you a Shadow?¡±


    ¡°What if I am? What then, Wujun?¡± she shot back, the slightest line furrowing her brow. This whole situation wasn¡¯t sitting well with her.


    Wujun shook his head, then stared her straight in the eye. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what I told Kentai; I don¡¯t care what you are, and I don¡¯t care what you¡¯ve done. If we¡¯re to remain friends, I demand full honesty, always.¡± He swallowed, the next part difficult for him to say. ¡°If you¡¯re not capable of that, then I¡¯m afraid¡­ this is where we must part ways, Soki.¡±


    Her gaze flicked immediately to Kentai, who threw his hands up, fingers pointing toward the ceiling, in a gesture of innocence. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I got the same speech and all I wanted was to snog his face off.¡±


    ¡°Kentai¡­¡± Wujun didn¡¯t fully turn around, but his pink ears were enough indication the gentle teasing had the desired effect.


    Soki wrinkled her nose, her eyes narrowing into a glare. For a second, she looked as though she wanted to say something to him but changed her mind and returned her focus to Wujun. ¡°Yes, I am a low-ranking member of the Circle of Shadows. My sole duty is to protect you until you¡¯re ready to take over your father¡¯s estate.¡±


    By the way his body stiffened, the news was hard for Wujun to take. Kentai laid a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. ¡°Was my father¡­ Am I¡­ a Shadow?¡± Wujun had difficulty getting the words out.


    She shook her head without reluctance. ¡°No. Your father was a friend to the Circle and while you have learned to fight in our style, you have never and will never be initiated into our ranks. We owed your father a debt and caring for you is how we have chosen to repay it.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Wujun was trembling. ¡°What about Goratsu? Is he¡­¡±


    ¡°He was hired by the Circle to be your tutor.¡± Soki¡¯s answers came far more readily than moments before. ¡°I am the only Shadow in the household, Wujun, I swear it.¡±


    Kentai remained silent, his principal focus on being there for Wujun as he processed the truth. Learning that he was raised by a secret organization whose sole purpose was assassinating a specific group of people had to be rough. Kentai would offer support, but he didn¡¯t trust Soki in the slightest. There was honesty in what she said, though he remained dubious she was being completely forthcoming.


    ¡°That¡¯s why he always listened to you¡­¡± Wujun was piecing things together it seemed, tying what she said to specific memories. ¡°You¡¯re my bodyguard, but you¡¯re still his boss.¡±


    Soki opened her mouth to reply just as a bone-chilling scream split through the night, echoing down the streets outside. A moment later, it was joined with more shouting and the unmistakable clamor of a skirmish breaking out.


    Kentai was the first to act. He moved cautiously to the nearest window and peaked out, being mindful not to expose himself. At first he saw nothing except shapes moving down the street, taking the form of people when they ran under torchlight. But then, his eyes caught sight of curling smoke and bright crimson and orange flames stretching up to the sky from several streets over. His heart sank.


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡±


    Tzulan¡¯s horde had reached Tiguri.

 Chapter 21: Wujun - The Horde Of Tzulan

    ¡°What is it?¡± Wujun asked, his voice sounding to him as though it came from a great distance. He was still trying to process everything Soki had confessed to him, especially the part where he¡¯d been raised by an organization of assassins indebted to his parents.


    What sort of things could my father possibly have done to earn favors from trained killers? The thought was too grim for him to dwell on, so he quickly cast it aside and focused instead on what Kentai was trying to tell him.


    ¡°It¡¯s started! Fuck! We should have left instead of dawdling around here!¡±


    He heard the words but barely comprehended them. After a few long seconds where his mind simply staggered about like a drunken mule, he finally caught up to what was happening. ¡°The army¡­ The army is here now?¡± He frowned, fighting to regain focus.


    This is serious! I need to pull myself together!


    Kentai grabbed Wujun¡¯s bag from where he¡¯d left it on the nearby table and tossed it over to him. Reflexes kicked in, allowing the stumped young man to catch it. Vaguely, he heard Soki and the swordsman exchange a brief conversation, but he was too busy focusing on deep, calming breaths to clear his head of the dense fog that had moved in.


    ¡°They can¡¯t be here yet!¡± Soki snapped. ¡°Our scouts¡ª¡±


    ¡°Were wrong!¡± Kentai finished for her. ¡°But if you don¡¯t believe me¡­ By all means, check for your damn self.¡± He motioned toward the window.


    Fixing the man with a dour glare, she started toward the window, but another ear splitting shriek froze her in place. It was followed by angry shouting, more screams, and the clash of steel. This time the commotion was much closer than before. It was undercut by a general din of panic and battle.


    Kentai¡¯s experience gave him an edge. He was the first to recover and act. He hurried around the room, dousing the candles and lanterns until the three of them were in near darkness. The only source of light was the glow of the fires outside.


    A shiver ran through Wujun, who didn¡¯t feel he was ready for another life or death confrontation so soon after living through his first skirmish last month. Couldn¡¯t they just stay here? Was all this conflict really necessary? His eyes found the massive shadow that was Kentai and a rush of warmth, like a sudden balmy breeze on a cool morning, filled his heart.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I want to find somewhere quiet and stay there with Kentai until the world is peaceful again. Just the two of us, talking and kissing¡­ No war, no secrets. Just Kentai smiling at me, looking at me with his dark, haunted eyes¡­


    He squeezed his own eyes shut and tried to will himself to be anywhere else, but all he could hear was the growing havoc on the streets and the sound of his companions bickering in hushed tones like children. That¡¯s when he knew there could be no escape, not without effort and especially teamwork.


    At present, his friends were arguing about which way to get out of the town. Soki wanted to return to the cottage, gather supplies, and round up the survivors. Kentai wanted to take what supplies were left at the inn and head straight into the mountains. They each had valid reasons, but left unchecked, they¡¯d spend the night vying to determine who was right while the town burned down around them.


    He cared about Soki and Kentai both. That they wanted to kill each other was unacceptable to him. It was up to Wujun to make them see that despite all their differences there was one thing they both had in common in this situation: him.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Wujun¡¯s voice was so sharp it evoked immediate silence. ¡°We¡¯re going to the cottage by the most direct route and then escaping through the mountains.¡± Before either could protest, he pressed on, ¡°Kentai knows the town and mountains best, he¡¯ll be our guide. Soki, when we reach the estate, we¡¯ll need to be swift in gathering essentials and checking for stragglers. With any luck, they¡¯ll have left without us, and we¡¯ll find them again in Kurokume.¡±


    To show he was serious, Wujun shouldered his bag and started for the door. He paused after a few steps to glance back at them. ¡°What¡¯s the hold up?¡±


    Kentai was the first to react. He grabbed his cloak and threw it on as he caught up with Wujun in a couple of strides. ¡°Fine, but we make it fast. The cottage will probably be a prime target after striking at the town center. They won¡¯t want anyone in power trying to take control of the situation.¡±


    Wujun hoped his shiver wasn¡¯t noticeable. He flicked his eyes to Soki, who was still standing there. Though he couldn¡¯t make out her face in the dark, he could imagine the disapproving expression she was wearing.


    ¡°I need you, Soki.¡± Wujun could think of nothing else to assuage her but to appeal to her innate sense of duty. ¡°But if you can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wujun,¡± she interrupted him, taking a step forward. ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­ I will never turn my back on you, but¡­¡± Her voice grew icy and strained. ¡°You¡¯re asking me to trust someone whose very existence I¡¯ve been taught to despise¡­¡±


    Wujun shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯m not. I¡¯m asking you to trust me. It¡¯s time I stop letting others decide for me, Soki. This is the choice that I¡¯m making for myself. I don¡¯t need you to accept it or each other. I only need you to accept that you want the same thing; to keep me safe.¡±


    For an eternal moment, Soki didn¡¯t react and he feared he was asking too much, that she would choose to part ways with him here and now. Then she gave a sudden, curt nod. ¡°We should hurry. We¡¯re wasting time.¡±


    Despite the gravity of the situation and the hell they were about to step into, Wujun smiled. He felt as though the three of them could endure anything together and his hopes for their successful escape soared. But then, Kentai pulled the door open, and the horror of the invasion wiped the grin off his face.

 Chapter 22: Taoru - Youre Not Taking My Daughter Anywhere

    Restless sleep was the only sleep Taoru got that night. He woke in a sour mood, his chest still aching with regret and sorrow for all that had passed between him and Lian the day before. His first impulse was to check on her. Perhaps seeing her sleeping face would ease him somewhat, but just glancing toward her door erased the notion from his mind.


    I don¡¯t want to make it worse. I need to be patient and let her come to me when she¡¯s ready. It was the hardest thing he¡¯d had to do, retrieve her dishes from in front of the lattice door without sliding it open to check on her. He took some comfort in the fact that at least she¡¯d eaten the food he¡¯d prepared.


    Stepping to the kitchen, he sat the tray down and began to clean the dishes. Taoru tried to focus on his plans for the day. Like it or not, he needed to finish the current piece, even if his heart wasn¡¯t fully in it at the moment. His work may have been stupid, but selling it put food on the table and had done so all of Lian¡¯s life.


    Her words cut into him again, the renewed hurt taking him by surprise. Without realizing it, he squeezed the clay bowl with such strength it shattered in his hand. One piece sliced a small gouge in his palm that began trickling blood onto the broken shards of what was once a handsome dish.


    Frustrated with himself more than anything, Taoru took a clean cloth and dabbed at the wound, trying to clear the blood away without the use of water. As a fire Zosara, pouring water into the cut would have been most unpleasant. Giving up on the rag, he instead placed his fingers over it, summoning a heat that would have pained most people. To Taoru, however, it was rather soothing and took away the uncomfortable stinging sensation.


    It wasn¡¯t so much a method of healing as cauterizing the wound to stop it from bleeding. The cut would still be there and would need time to mend itself. The only other added benefit was the purifying quality of fire that cleansed the site so there wouldn¡¯t be infection later on.


    ¡°Niami!¡±


    Taoru was just wiping the stray streaks of blood from his wrist and arm when Lian¡¯s shrieking voice came from outside. The sound of it sent a piercing jolt of fear through him and caused cold sweat to bead instantly on the back of his neck. She hadn¡¯t called him the draconic word for father since she was a small child. Without thinking, he bounded to the door and slid it open.


    The sight that met his gaze only drove the fear deeper. Never mind the fact Lian should have been asleep in her room, that question could be answered later. That she raced toward him, covered in mud and sweat, her face white with terror, was all he needed to fly into action.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He dropped the cloth in his hand and ran out to meet her, unconsciously pausing just long enough to slip his shoes on at the edge of the porch. When he reached her, Lian fell into his arms, her whole body shaking as though she¡¯d been standing outside in freezing temperatures for hours.


    ¡°Niami!¡± Lian sobbed, clinging to him even as her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Niami, please¡­¡± she choked the words out in between gasping breaths.


    Taoru was trying to make sense of what had happened, the possibilities whirling through his mind scaring him more than anything in life ever had before. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Lian.¡± Their argument was forgotten now; all he cared about was being there for his daughter. ¡°I¡¯m here, Miryu. Tell me what happened.¡±


    From over her shoulder, he got his first answer. Galloping toward them was a group of horses, several more than the three that had ridden out yesterday. Once again, Captain Juzo was at their head, leading the charge.


    Oh, no¡­ What have you done, Lian?


    He hardened his expression, rising and pulling Lian with him. She leaned heavily against him, his tunic clenched in her fists. Taoru kept one arm around her, both for physical support and comfort. Whatever was going on, he would never forsake his daughter when she clearly needed him.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this, Juzo?¡± Taoru demanded, purposefully leaving out the man¡¯s title.


    The captain didn¡¯t dismount when he stopped this time. He remained seated, towering above the pair of them with an air of superiority that was most unbecoming. ¡°I have bad news, Master Taoru¡­ Your daughter attacked some men in town, quite unprovoked, I might add, and nearly burned one to death with magic.¡± A smug smile tugged at his lips. ¡°I must take her before Warlord Nagisa, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Lian was still panting for breath. She began shaking her head, unable to speak beyond once again begging her father¡¯s forgiveness.


    Taoru was certain Juzo was exaggerating, or even outright lying, about certain facts. He could sense, however, that Lian¡¯s depleted fire was not just because of physical exertion. For some reason, she¡¯d revealed herself and now was being vilified. His fears were becoming reality¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re not taking my daughter anywhere.¡± There was a threatening edge in Taoru¡¯s voice. He paused there, his gaze boring into the captain without wavering. Even without Lian to back him up, Taoru could have wiped out the half-dozen men by himself. They could then flee northwest to Wukita Province, which was Baisho¡¯s bitter rival.


    But what sort of life would that be for Lian?


    It was better in the long run to deal with this matter head-on. For that reason alone, the proud man added, ¡°Not without me.¡±


    The sergeant beside Juzo opened his mouth to protest, but his superior waved him to silence. ¡°If you want to try pleading her case, I won¡¯t stop you. Though I warn you, I saw the entire exchange with my own eyes. Lian is guilty.¡±

 Chapter 23: Wujun - How To Send A Fucking Message

    Vicious, unrelenting flames blazed throughout the town, lighting up the night as though it were midday. The heat and acrid plumes of smoke were so oppressive even the moon had taken cover behind a shroud of black clouds. There was screaming and shouting all around. The terrible noises of women being violated and men tortured, of children and animals dying.


    Wujun had taken Kentai¡¯s hand at one point and couldn¡¯t bear to let go. He shut his eyes against the terrible onslaught but could not erase the sounds. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the horror of this night. More than once he tried to stop, wanting to help, wanting to stop the suffering, but Soki and Kentai both urged him on. It was a hard lesson that made his stomach queasy and his heart ache; there was nothing they could do for these people.


    The three of them were not skilled enough to take on an entire army alone. Even the town¡¯s meager militia was nowhere to be seen. Either they had already been routed or they had fled their posts, leaving the citizens of Tiguri to their gruesome, agonizing fate. Wujun would likely never know either.


    They turned a corner and came face to face with the savagery of Tzulan¡¯s army. Bloody entrails were spread out over the doors of every house on the street, while severed heads were mounted on iron stakes, their eyes unseeing and mouths gaping in grotesque, slack expressions of terror. The metal rods were arranged so families were kept together according to where they had lived.


    It was the realization that not all the victims were adults that hit Wujun the hardest. The entire scene was unreal. He didn¡¯t want to believe humans were capable of such senseless carnage and for what? What sort of madness could possess a man and make him slaughter and dismember other living people? His whole body shuddered, and he had to look down at his feet.


    ¡°Fucking sick bastards¡­¡± Kentai¡¯s voice was strained and hushed. ¡°I think this is where the town officials lived¡­ Tzulan¡¯s men know how to send a fucking message¡­¡±


    Wujun squeezed the other man¡¯s hand. He wanted to leave but feared if he opened his mouth he might not hold his stomach¡¯s contents down.


    Soki had lingered behind. A second later, Wujun found out why. She had gone back to a burning building on the last street and made a makeshift torch. Now, as she walked by the houses, she set them all ablaze, ensuring the disfigured remains would be caught in the inferno.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Kentai grunted at her efforts, but said only, ¡°Let¡¯s go. The cottage is nearby.¡±


    The reminder of the cottage sent an icy jolt of fear through Wujun that quickened his heartbeat and set his mind to racing fretfully. Kentai had mentioned it was a target. He could imagine all the people he knew, torn to pieces and spread out over the once beautiful grounds. His gut churned and hot tears of panic stung his eyes. His heart was pounding out of control, threatening to burst from his chest.


    No! Goratsu!


    Forgetting everything else, Wujun broke into a sprint. He had to leave the horror of the street, had to reach the cottage so he could make sure everyone there was safe. The only other thought resonating in his head was that the last thing he¡¯d said to Goratsu was spoken in anger.


    I didn¡¯t mean it. Not at all! Oh, Goratsu, please be okay! Please be waiting for me with that stern expression! You can even lecture me! Just please be okay!


    He ignored Soki and Kentai yelling behind him, urging him to stay with them. When it was clear he wasn¡¯t listening, they exchanged a glance, the swordsman let out a curse, and then they dashed up the street after him.


    Wujun remained oblivious to them. He was in a world all his own as he bolted the last distance to the cottage. He could see it on the hill, the smoke billowing in the inky, cloudy sky. His heart sank, his emotions twisting into guilt and regret.


    It¡¯s not too late! It can¡¯t be too late! Oh no, this is all my fault!


    His blood turned to ice in his veins, his limbs aching with the effort of sprinting, of moving, of simply breathing. The raw emptiness and lashing agony were new sensations for him. A stark, cruel contrast to the delightful high of being kissed for the first time. He had finally found happiness and purpose in the world and all of that was crashing down around him.


    It felt as though his head were spinning. His feet hit the path leading up to the house, and finally, his pace faltered. The gate had been blown apart, remnants scattered about, some still burning. The wooden fragments drew his gaze further along to the old tree he had used to sneak out. It was now blazing, the flames scorching the aged wood until it was charred and black. As he watched, one of its heavier branches splintered off and crashed to the ground, scattering ashes and embers across the darkened grass.


    Despite the emotional upheaval, Wujun didn¡¯t collapse. His knees shook and his stomach lurched threateningly, but all of his physical training kept him under control. He saw tenebrous shapes moving near the front door of the house and he rushed forward again, hoping they were survivors.


    He pictured one of them was Goratsu, clothing singed, hair mussed, and that frazzled frown on his face whenever things weren¡¯t to his standards. That¡¯s who he would find waiting for him and when he did, he¡¯d endure the lecture that was sure to follow as though it were the robin¡¯s first song in spring.


    Reality dashed the image to pieces.


    Wujun found Goratsu, but he was not one of the figures standing by the door. His body, bloodied and lifeless, was staked to it.

 Chapter 24: Taoru - The Warlords Gambit

    Captain Juzo¡¯s smugness didn¡¯t disappear even after Taoru relented. He ordered the sergeant to restrain Lian, which sparked a whole new argument that would surely have come to blows if, once again, Taoru hadn¡¯t backed down. He swore to himself this would be the last time. Seeing his daughter chained in irons made him furious. It took all his self-control not to start a fight, though he wanted nothing more than to wipe the grin off the captain¡¯s arrogant face.


    The walk into town was not a long one, though today, it certainly felt that way. Taoru wanted to get this over with, to do whatever he must to clear Lian¡¯s name. When that was finished, they would return straight home, pack their things, and head north. At least until the feuding was over. Perhaps someday they¡¯d be able to come back, though the growing dread he felt told him otherwise.


    It wasn¡¯t until they set foot in the courtyard that Taoru really feared there was no hope for Lian. To his trained eye, he could see the signs of a tussle, of a fire Zosara unleashing her power to the fullest. The echo of her outburst made his heart ache all over again.


    This is my fault¡­ He fought the urge to hang his head. If he had not shouted at Lian, they wouldn¡¯t be in this mess now. She had obviously come here to prove herself to him, and it was all because he had mishandled the situation.


    Juzo finally dismounted, passed the reins off to a subordinate, and then took control of Lian¡¯s bonds. Taoru flashed him a warning glare but held his tongue. This would be over soon, he reminded himself. He would make the warlord see reason by any means necessary!


    The palace was cold and sparsely decorated. Taoru imagined any finery had been sold off and the gold yuun stockpiled to prepare for the impending war. That would make it a little more difficult to navigate, but did not deter him. He counted every soldier and guard they passed, noting the route they took through the hallways, counting his footsteps. If Nagisa would not be reasoned with, then Taoru would take Lian out of here by force.


    Finally, they made it to the audience chamber, where a large, wooden throne sat on a dais at the back of the room. Beside it was a second chair, this one much smaller and less ornate. Sitting upon them were two women who could not have been more unlike each other.


    The first was older than even Taoru, her once dark hair now heavily streaked with white and gray. Her visage was severe, scars marring once beautiful features, and her black eyes gleaming like coal that had never known the warmth of a fire. The other was younger than her counterpart, only a few years older than Lian, if he had to guess. Everything about her was softer as well, from the gloss of her umber hair to the smooth features of her narrow face. Though he had never met them before, he could guess at their identities. The first was Warlord Nagisa, and the other was her daughter, Lady Kiatsu.


    As they neared the front, Lian let out a gasp. Taoru followed her gaze to where a young man stood, likewise shackled, except his wrists were red and irritated from where the iron rested against his skin. The reason for that became clear a second later when a sense of magic tugged at Taoru. He and the young man exchanged a glance, but then the stranger turned his focus to Lian and gave her an apologetic half-smile.


    More questions filled Taoru, who had no way of getting answers just yet. Lian hung her head, unable to meet the other Zosara¡¯s eyes. The guilt radiating from her gave him some clue that whatever had happened she felt responsible for.


    To his more experienced perspective, he felt for sure there was foul play involved here. Why else would Juzo be downright gleeful as he saluted the warlord and then turned to present Lian as though she were a magnificent prize?


    ¡°I¡¯ve apprehended the fire Zosara, warlord,¡± he boasted, indicating Lian.


    Juzo tried to pull her forward by the chain attached to the manacles, but Taoru stepped forward, catching it and tugging back. The captain staggered a step and flashed an angry glower the older man met resolutely.


    ¡°My daughter has been paraded around enough!¡± he snapped. He fixed his gaze on Nagisa, letting her see his resolve. ¡°I demand she be released; she is not a criminal!¡±


    Warlord Nagisa frowned at him, then flicked her dark eyes to Lian. ¡°I¡¯ve heard you took on at least five male recruits by yourself,¡± she said, ignoring Taoru completely. ¡°Tell me, why did you pick a fight with them?¡±


    Uncertain, Lian looked to Taoru, searching him for answers or permission he wasn¡¯t sure. Was she afraid to speak the reason in front of him?


    ¡°Your father can¡¯t help you here, girl.¡± Nagisa¡¯s voice was biting. ¡°You¡¯re speaking to me. Now, answer my question.¡±


    ¡°Because they¡­¡± Lian wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. ¡°They insulted my father¡¯s honor,¡± she finally confessed, her words barely audible. Speaking it out loud must have filled her with a measure of courage, for she continued passionately. ¡°They called him a coward, and it made me furious! So I taught them a lesson.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Taoru blinked in surprise. She¡¯d nearly done the same just the day before; was that why it had bothered her so much? Or had she thought they were right and fought them to keep others from learning what she believed to be the truth?


    ¡°And because¡­¡± Lian went on, tears glittering at the edge of her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a bad daughter! I doubted my father¡¯s wisdom, and¡­¡± She choked on the words. ¡°I meant to dishonor him, to go against his wishes, and join your military.¡± Now she turned to Taoru, her bottom lip trembling. ¡°Please forgive me, Dad¡­ I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Reflexively, he put his hand on her shoulder, quieting her with that simple touch. Now was not the time to delve into their personal matters, but he wanted her to see he was not angry with her. They would work it out later. Right now, their focus had to be on escaping. He knew well that they were standing in the middle of a trap, and he refused to be caught in it for long.


    He turned back to Nagisa, his face impassive. ¡°This was a petty squabble between youths, nothing more. Certainly not a matter to bother the warlord herself with!¡±


    ¡°A petty squabble?¡± Juzo was indignant. ¡°One of those boys will be lucky if he can ever use his hands again after the burns she gave him!¡±


    ¡°By the warlord¡¯s own admission, it was five on one!¡± Taoru growled back. ¡°Five men against one girl sounds more like self-defense!¡±


    ¡°Except she threw the first blow!¡± Juzo shot back.


    Nagisa cut across the retort as Taoru opened his mouth to deliver it. ¡°Quiet!¡± She glared from one to the other until they showed signs of backing off, then she settled onto her throne again. ¡°Now, where does this one come in¡­¡± She waved her hand lazily at the young man, who until now had been largely forgotten.


    The captain cleared his throat before answering. ¡°He aided in the girl¡¯s escape by utilizing wood magic. I witnessed this myself, warlord.¡±


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± She did look interested like she was appraising livestock. ¡°What¡¯s your name, young man?¡±


    ¡°Oh, me?¡± He glanced around, checking to see if perhaps somebody else was being spoken to. Even though she nodded irritably to confirm he was who she meant, his expression remained dubious. ¡°I¡¯m Guankaran, a carpenter. I, uh, have a business card just here¡­¡± Despite his manacled hands, he reached up into his robe, fumbling about for a moment before withdrawing a scrap of paper. ¡°Mostly cabinets and furniture. But, uh, once I made a goose. It was quite lovely, actually.¡±


    Juzo snatched the paper, read it, and immediately frowned. At her signal, he brought it to Nagisa, who likewise read it and frowned.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ a carpenter?¡± It was her turn to look doubtful.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s it.¡± Guankaran smiled. ¡°I noticed on my way in you could do with some new furnishings. I would be happy to discuss a quote¡ª¡± He stopped talking the second she crumpled the paper in her hand. ¡°Ah yes, apologies, this isn¡¯t the best time, is it?¡±


    The warlord shook her head, caught somewhere between amusement and irritation. She took her time from there, straightening out the sleeve of her robes before finally speaking again. ¡°I believe the solution here is clear,¡± she started, her gaze flicking from Lian to Guankaran. ¡°Since you have cost me five strong recruits, you will serve as replacements¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Taoru shouted, drowning out whatever Nagisa said next. Panic raced through his blood, followed by despair. He¡¯d known the warlord was desperate for troops, but there was no way she could seriously think a young woman and a carpenter were satisfactory replacements. Even if they did possess magical aptitude!


    ¡°This is ridiculous! She¡¯s barely more than a child!¡± he protested, shifting so he was blocking Lian from Nagisa. ¡°I will not allow you to take my daughter!¡±


    The warlord glowered down at him, clearly not used to being ordered around by one of her subjects. ¡°Captain, get this man out of my sight; I¡¯ve had enough of his outbursts¡­¡±


    Juzo moved to obey, not realizing until he put his hand on Taoru¡¯s arm the mistake he was making. The older man reacted so quickly the captain was on his feet one second and sprawled out on his back before his brain could register that he was falling. The other soldiers in the chamber hesitated only a second after seeing their superior officer laid out so easily. Once they realized Taoru was not about to go quietly, they flew into action.


    Unlike his spar with Lian, Taoru did not hold back. Every strike landed with the full force of a father¡¯s rage behind it. The more guards who threw themselves at him, the more piled up. Once Juzo recovered, even he tried to subdue the sculptor and was once again shown how absolutely inept he was at accomplishing this task.


    The fight didn¡¯t last long. Nagisa put an end to it with a single, barked order.


    When he looked up at her, Taoru saw she was grinning, that same smug, self-satisfied grin that had been on Juzo¡¯s face earlier. The faintest movement drew his eye as a new figure strode through the door and walked by them to stand at Nagisa¡¯s side.


    Her! The woman from the Peak!


    Taoru¡¯s mind raced as he began connecting all the dots. The ploy yesterday hadn¡¯t worked; even though Lian had put herself in the perfect position to draw Taoru out, he had been careful not to reveal his magic. Today had been more of the same, a trap not meant to lure Lian, but her more experienced father!


    But why? Why me?


    ¡°Men can be so aggravating,¡± Nagisa was saying. ¡°Your daughter gave up her freedom when she attacked my men and fled. I demand recompense.¡±


    ¡°Then I will pay it.¡± Taoru spoke the words without hesitation. ¡°That¡¯s what you wanted all along, isn¡¯t it? You know as well as I do a seasoned fighter is worth more than an unproven recruit. Take me and allow Lian to leave¡ª¡±


    Lian let out a strangled cry from behind him and fell against his back. ¡°No, please! Don¡¯t do this, Dad. I¡¯m sorry, I should have listened¡­¡± Her voice broke.


    Nagisa ignored Lian¡¯s pleas. ¡°Your words hold merit, but you¡¯ve forgotten one thing¡­¡± A cruel glint reflected in her eyes. ¡°She¡¯s a Zosara; my men have seen her sorcery. That makes her far, far more valuable to me than even ten seasoned warriors!¡±


    There was the truth of the matter. The warlord had somehow come to suspect Taoru and had done all of this to put him in this very position. She didn¡¯t want him, she wanted his magic, and if she couldn¡¯t get it, then she would rip from him the one thing he cared for above all else. It might have seemed to those watching that he had a decision to make, but for him, there was no question at all.

 Chapter 25: Wujun - Nothing Matters Anymore!

    Whatever happened next would be remembered as a blur. One moment, Wujun was running, his chest full of hope and certainty, and the next he was filled with blinding, fiery rage. His stride changed; he was no longer rushing toward a beloved mentor with the expectation of a relieved reunion. He was charging into battle, a terrible cry of anguish and fury tearing from his lungs that seemed to echo in the hazy night air.


    There were three soldiers loitering by the door, sharing a drink and patting each other on the back after what they perceived to be a job well done. It wasn¡¯t until they heard Wujun¡¯s fearsome shout they realized they were under attack.


    Closing the distance, Wujun didn¡¯t falter at the terrifying sight of the three seasoned troops. No, not troops, murderers. Their hands were coated in blood, their uniforms drenched in it. Black paint made their faces appear demonic and otherworldly. One, who he assumed was the leader, had a white stripe across the bridge of his nose from cheek to cheek.


    These details washed over Wujun seconds before he fell on them like a bird of prey snaring a careless hare. He didn¡¯t have a weapon, but he didn¡¯t need one; his specialty of fighting had always been martial arts. The young man moved like a serpent, twisting and weaving around his opponents who discovered quickly he was a greater threat than he appeared to be.


    Wujun had never killed before, but he was certain if he¡¯d had a blade, he¡¯d have stuck them all and then stood over them, watching with glee as they bled out. He wouldn¡¯t have entertained such thoughts under normal circumstances. Now grief and anger curdled his blood, piercing through him like an infection. Something wet splashed down his face and he wondered if he had taken a glancing blow.


    So what if I did? It doesn¡¯t matter¡­ Nothing matters anymore!


    He continued to lash out, striking every weak point they revealed to him, wearing them down blow by blow. His vision blurred and he stumbled, his head reeling, breath ragged, and his chest full of white, seething pain. Something grabbed onto him, grappling him, and he flailed again expecting any second to feel a blade pierce his body. In fact, he almost welcomed death. It had to be better than the torment of living with the memory of this day¡­


    ¡°Wujun, stop!¡± The voice was familiar. Gruff, yet soothing to his ears. ¡°It¡¯s me, Wujun! It¡¯s okay now, just stop!¡±


    Kentai had found him here in this waking nightmare. Some part of him was glad and yet he couldn¡¯t feel it. He was consumed. He swiped at his eyes, realizing it had not been blood on his face, obscuring his vision; it was tears. He was crying.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    He pulled away from the swordsman, swatting away a fresh wave of emotion. He wanted to fall apart now, to collapse into Kentai¡¯s arms and unleash the storm inside him, but there was more left to do.


    With a quick glance, he found the three soldiers. Two had been slain already, their necks slit from ear-to-ear by the delicate, but deadly blade belonging to Soki. The leader was the only one left alive. He was on his knees; his right arm broken by Wujun and hanging limply at his side. Soki, her stoic face cast in orange from the flames, was on his left, her dagger held to his jugular.


    Her dark eyes flickered in the crackling fire. ¡°For Goratsu,¡± she said and then, with a swift stroke, carved a red gash across his throat as well. Blood gushed from the wound in waves, the man gurgling and gasping as she released him. He fell to the brown grass, writhing.


    Wujun found imagining this moment and living it were very different. He couldn¡¯t stomach the sight and turned away, trying to block out the choking sounds behind him. His gaze was met with a more disturbing image; Goratsu¡¯s body.


    Fresh tears blinded him. Wujun stepped to the door, emotion tangling around his heart, squirming in his chest and gut. He pulled at the metal stakes that had been pounded through the old tutor¡¯s shoulders to hold him to the wooden door. He tried not to think about the blood from the wounds, the sign this torment had been inflicted while he was still alive. It was proof the last minutes of his life were spent in terrible agony and it broke Wujun¡¯s heart anew.


    If I hadn¡¯t argued¡­ If I had been here¡­ If¡­


    He knew such thoughts were pointless and yet he wallowed in them, letting their barbed vines pierce his mind and soul. A cry of frustration welled up within him, but it came out as a heart-wrenching sob.


    Dammit! I can¡¯t get this damn stake out!


    Wujun was struggling to pry it free of the wood. His body wasn¡¯t cooperating. He could barely see through the tears. The smoke and yelling had made his throat raw and sore.


    Suddenly, the stake gave and he yanked it out. Or so he thought. It took his grief-addled mind a second to realize it had actually been Kentai¡¯s magic, not his own strength, that allowed him to remove the cursed metal. When the first one was out, he grabbed onto the second and found it much more cooperative. He was sure this was also because of Kentai¡¯s help.


    As Goratsu¡¯s body slipped down, Wujun caught it and reverently laid it on the ground. He was dimly aware of Soki muttering something to Kentai and slipping away, but he couldn¡¯t process her words. He was focused on the empty face, the blank, staring eyes of his tutor. With a trembling hand, he brushed his eyelids closed, unable to bear their soullessness any longer.


    The last thing I said to him was¡­ Oh, Goratsu¡­ I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t mean any of it! Please forgive me¡­


    Overwhelmed by grief, Wujun fell against Goratsu¡¯s cold, still chest and sobbed.

 Chapter 26: Aojiko - Swear Your Undying Fealty

    Aojiko watched him as Taoru glanced over his shoulder at Lian. The girl still clung to his back, her tears visibly wetting his linen tunic. Something soft passed over his face as he gazed at her, a gentleness that Aojiko had never experienced from her own father.


    The moment was fleeting, in the next second he was fixing his piercing stare on Nagisa. Then, he raised his arm and summoned a crackling wisp of fire to his palm. It danced above his skin, casting a faint, warm glow into the otherwise cool air of the palace.


    Silence hung like thick fog in the air following the simple feat of magical skill Taoru displayed. Aojiko couldn¡¯t believe he had exposed himself in order to spare his daughter. It touched a nerve in her heart, reminding her of a similar scenario long ago when a father had the power to protect his child from a terrible fate. Only that time, he had gazed upon her with contempt and then turned his back.


    He could have walked out of here a free man, but he didn¡¯t¡­ The fool. All he¡¯s done now is condemn them both.


    ¡°So my suspicions were correct¡­¡± Nagisa breathed the words, her eyes sparkling in the light from the dancing fire in Taoru¡¯s hand. ¡°The Hiryuten family crest bears a striking resemblance to a symbol I found in an old tome, the symbol of the Dragon Warriors¡­¡± She remained spellbound for another moment longer before finally forcing herself to look away. In that instant, her severe exterior returned, her gaze hard and superior. ¡°You are their descendent, then. The last of a noble line of magic-attuned warriors¡­¡±


    Taoru extinguished the flame and lowered his arm with a sigh. ¡°And if I am?¡± he asked, his voice flat.


    His question brought a wicked little grin to Nagisa¡¯s face. ¡°Even if you aren¡¯t, I still have great use for you.¡±


    A sick feeling squirmed in Aojiko¡¯s stomach, and her brand itched uncomfortably. She had to stop herself from reaching over to rub at it. She didn¡¯t want to see this proud man reduced to a slave or to think about what all ¡®services¡¯ he¡¯d have to perform for his warlord. He was doing the unthinkable, giving up everything, and it wouldn¡¯t even matter in the end. It didn¡¯t seem fair.


    ¡°If you want my service, then you¡¯ll release my daughter, now,¡± he growled, making it plain he was done talking until then.


    Nagisa sniffed at the air dismissively as though a foul smell were upon it. ¡°Am I just to take your word, then? I don¡¯t think so. I will need reassurances you¡¯ll remain loyal no matter what errands I send you on.¡± There was a dark gleam in her eyes, her lips almost smiling again. ¡°Come. Kneel before me and swear your undying fealty. Only then will I let your daughter go.¡±


    To Aojiko¡¯s surprise, Taoru still didn¡¯t hesitate. He took a step forward, his face a mask of dire resolve. She could see to his very heart and knew this decision went against every part of him, yet he made it without reservation for the sake of his only child. The depth of that love was staggering and filled the air Zosara with a strange, foreign emotion. Was it respect? Admiration?The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Dad, no¡­¡± Lian remained grounded in the same spot as before, but her fingers had not relinquished their hold on Taoru¡¯s garment. Her full lips trembled, her cheeks wet with tears. The same love Aojiko had seen in Taoru existed just as strongly in his daughter. ¡°Tradition¡ª¡±


    Taoru silenced her by half turning and touching her cheek. There was no need for words between them. Whatever contention had existed before was gone, erased in that single gesture. It was not as Aojiko had first thought, that Taoru would be angry and unforgiving. Their familial bond would endure, stronger and deeper than before.


    Aojiko blinked back her own tears, her heart aching from the pain of old wounds. She felt helpless to stop the great injustice unfolding before her. Warning Taoru of the danger he faced would bring her unspeakable pain and possibly even death. She couldn¡¯t bear to die as a slave! She was determined to be free someday, and so, no matter how much she hated it, she kept her mouth clenched shut.


    As ordered, the fire Zosara knelt in front of the dais, though he did not bow his head as was customary. He gazed defiantly up at Nagisa, whose thin lips quirked into a cruel smile; the warlord was looking forward to breaking Taoru as she had once broken Aojiko. The thought made her stomach churn.


    ¡°Now,¡± Nagisa held out her arm, ¡°take my hand and swear yourself to me.¡±


    Taoru hesitated. This was not the usual manner in which a knight or soldier was sworn into service, and it was clear he had some misgivings.


    Don¡¯t do it. Don¡¯t touch her. Aojiko kept her face impassive, but her hands balled into fists at her sides. She wanted to scream, Take your daughter and run away from this place!


    He glanced back using his peripheral vision so he could glimpse Lian. The sight of her only strengthened his conviction. He reached out and placed his hand in Nagisa¡¯s, opening his mouth at the same time to swear the cursed oath. Instead of words, only a gasp of surprised pain came out.


    The fire Zosara tried to pull away, but it was too late. More than just physical might held his hand in place. Invisible strands of magic wound upward, connecting him to the warlord as though a rope were tied about their forearms. With his other hand, he reached over and tugged up his sleeve. The first traces of the brand were showing as sizzling flesh just above his inner wrist.


    This time Aojiko couldn¡¯t help herself. She touched her own mark and shuddered, recalling the tremendous agony of the first few moments she¡¯d been connected to Nagisa. It had spread over her body like wildfire through parched underbrush. The pain in her arm had been the worst of all; she imagined having it slowly cut off would have been easier to endure.


    To his credit, Taoru did not cry out again. He locked his gaze with Nagisa¡¯s, fierce gold against impenetrable black, and gritted his teeth together in determination. Was he actually trying to resist the spell? Could that even be possible?


    Aojiko frowned, refusing to give credence to the hope that whispered through her.


    Behind the pair of them, Lian was reacting now. ¡°Niami!¡± she shouted, but she didn¡¯t make it more than a step or two before Juzo grabbed her around the neck and roughly yanked her back. Lian did not relent. She threw an elbow into his side, and when it only met armor, she tried a new tactic; she sank her teeth into his unprotected hand.


    Juzo growled a curse and shoved Lian away from him toward the floor, intending for her to fall. Guankaran caught her first. A momentary glare was sent in the captain¡¯s direction, but the self-proclaimed carpenter swept the expression away a second later. By now, Lian had recovered and returned her attention back to her father.


    Having seen enough, Aojiko finally stepped in, blocking Lian¡¯s path before she could attempt to interfere again. ¡°You can¡¯t help him,¡± she said, her voice as chilling as a wintery mountain breeze. ¡°It will be over soon, and then he will belong to the warlord.¡±

 Chapter 27: Kentai - No More Fire. No More Death.

    They couldn¡¯t stay here and yet Kentai couldn¡¯t bring himself to drag Wujun away yet. He stood nearby, keeping watch as the young man was overcome by sorrow. Soki had slipped into the shadows with the barest explanation that she was going to salvage supplies. He figured when she returned would be the time to interrupt Wujun.


    A hazy breeze wafted up from the town, carrying with it the grit and smoke, the scent of blood and charred flesh. Kentai shivered, not from any sort of chill in the air, but for the atrocities being committed at that very moment. He had seen towns and villages after they were plundered. He hoped their group would be far away from Tiguri before the sun came up and shed its light on all the foul deeds committed during the night.


    ¡°Such tragedy¡­¡± The ever-mocking voice of Naizen was the last thing Kentai wanted to hear at the moment. ¡°The poor boy¡­¡±


    Kentai rounded on the fire Zosara, adjusting his stance so he was prepared for an attack and also blocking his former ally from taking any cheap shots at Wujun. ¡°I¡¯m warning you, Naizen,¡± he growled, ¡°fuck off. This isn¡¯t the time to settle our shit.¡±


    Naizen shifted a couple of steps, using the maneuver to put Kentai in a dangerous position if he wanted to protect Wujun. He was boxed in here, fire on his right, the young man behind him on the ground. The only way to escape an attack would be to meet it head on or dodge left, but that would mean exposing his comrade.


    ¡°I think now is the perfect time,¡± Naizen contradicted him. His eyes gleamed with malevolence, his lips twisting into a sly, cruel grin that made him look like a predatory beast. ¡°What are you going to do, hm? Protect the boy¡­ or let him die?¡±


    Fire crackled in Naizen¡¯s palms, licking up his arms. He swirled his hands in a circular motion, combining the flames into one ball that he launched directly at Kentai.


    All of this took place in seconds. Gritting his teeth, the swordsman stood his ground, raising his arms up to ward off the worst of the blast.


    It never came.


    He was suddenly aware of Wujun standing beside him, his hands thrust out in front of his chest, his cheeks glistening with wet tears. He looked fierce, like he had when fighting Tzulan¡¯s soldiers, except now the quiet power that had hummed beneath the surface was manifested. It glowed cyan in his eyes, made the air around him quiver and spark. Unnatural wind stirred his platinum bangs, making them dance across his ash-smudged forehead.


    For a split second, he thought Wujun¡¯s magical attunement was air and then he realized how wrong he was. He saw why the fireball hadn¡¯t connected; it was hovering in the space between Kentai and Naizen, held there by a bright, cyan aura.


    ¡°No more fire,¡± Wujun proclaimed, his voice as radiant as the magic swirling unseen around him. ¡°No more death.¡± His expression darkened as he turned his hand over, his thumb and middle finger touching. ¡°Except yours.¡± He snapped his fingers, and the swirl of flames was snuffed out like a candle.Stolen novel; please report.


    Surprised, Naizen tried to conjure another blast of fire and found with obvious horror he couldn¡¯t. ¡°What is this devilry?¡± he demanded. For once the lilt was gone from his voice. ¡°What have you done to me?¡±


    Kentai didn¡¯t question. His instincts bade him to attack, to seize the moment, and so he did. He charged forward and drew his sword in the same motion, swinging it in a powerful stroke that would have lopped Naizen¡¯s head off his shoulders had the fire Zosara not dodged at the last moment.


    He pressed the assault, noticing his former ally was not as swift without his magic to aid him. For a moment, Kentai wondered if his ability to cast spells was gone entirely, but he dismissed the notion. He could still sense the inferno inside Naizen, though it felt as though it were hidden across a great chasm of darkness and fog.


    What power could do this to a Zosara? Is this some new trick from the Circle of Shadows?


    Kentai forced the questions from his mind and focused instead on delivering a relentless barrage of attacks to Naizen. He wasn¡¯t sure how long his abilities would be suppressed, but he was determined to end their fight before they returned. Finally, he saw his opening and lunged, thrusting the blade forward. In a last ditch effort to save himself, Naizen caught the flat of the blade between his palms, though he staggered backward a step from the sheer force of the blow.


    There was fear in his eyes and the pounding of his heart could be heard in the blade-length space between the two Zosara. Naizen tried to hide it with a goading smile. ¡°I bet you weren¡¯t expecting that, huh, Ironfang¡­?¡±


    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t. Not that it matters¡­¡± Kentai grinned back, his eyes glinting with triumph. Naizen might have lost his magic, but the swordsman still had his. He could sense the metal of his curved utzu yearning for blood, longing to perform the act it was forged to carry out. With Kentai¡¯s power, the blade¡¯s thirst was quenched.


    A second too late, Naizen saw his mistake.


    The sword¡¯s tip extended in the blink of an eye, piercing the fire Zosara¡¯s throat before he could slip away again. He gasped, his eyes wide with shock as they stared down at the elongated metal and the streak of red flowing down his neck.


    ¡°Ken¡­ tai¡­¡± he gurgled the name as he sank slowly to his knees.


    The blade slipped from his body and as it did, returned to its original length. Kentai stood above him, eyes locked with the blazing orange gaze of his former ally. There was no need for words between them now, in this last moment. Raising the weapon, he slashed again, the blow ringing with finality as it severed the fire Zosara¡¯s head from his shoulders.


    His face passive, the swordsman wiped his blade clean and then slid it methodically back into the sheath at his side.


    So, that¡¯s it, then¡­ Goodbye, Naizen.


    Kentai¡¯s eyes were on the decapitated body at his feet. Part of him was expecting the man to appear as a ghost, intent on haunting him as a last act of vengeance. The thought made him shudder. Either Naizen had no cause to linger or whatever Wujun had done was preventing him from manifesting. He might have sighed in relief, had he not suddenly remembered his comrade¡¯s impressive, startling feat of magic.


    He whirled, his eyes darting to Wujun who was rooted to the same spot. The power was gone from his eyes, leaving only their alluring aqua shade. The kid looked drained and confused. When he realized Kentai was staring at him, tears slipped down his cheeks. ¡°Did I really do that? How? How did I¡­?¡±


    It was not Kentai who answered, but another voice, flat and droning. ¡°It would seem, young Master, that you are the void Zosara.¡±

 Chapter 28: Taoru - The Dragons Strength

    From the second his hand came into contact with Nagisa¡¯s, Taoru knew something was very wrong. Pain like he had never felt before shot up his arm, catching him completely off guard. He gasped, trying to steel himself against it, but powerful magic was invading his mind, beating against his defenses like a battering ram.


    Taoru was dimly aware of his other hand moving, of his fingers grabbing onto the fabric of his sleeve and dragging it upward. Something ferociously hot was boring itself into his forearm, and the sight of his skin blistering and burning repulsed him. Despite his revulsion, he couldn¡¯t pull himself away.


    What¡­ is this¡­?


    Another voice that did not belong to him, but to Nagisa, answered, ¡°This is power. Power I will use to subjugate you and any other Zosara I come across. You will serve me, whether you desire to or not!¡±


    With her words came a flash of insight she shared either unintentionally or because she didn¡¯t think he could do anything about it; when she was finished with him, Nagisa¡¯s next victim would be Lian.


    Despite the agony now pulsing through his entire body, Taoru glared up at the warlord and bared his teeth. He couldn¡¯t speak or pull away, but that did not mean he would give himself over willingly. There was no doubt in his mind that if Nagisa branded him, Taoru would lose all compunction. Her words would bind him, prevent him from acting freely. Should she command it, though it went against every part of his being, he would forcibly hold his own daughter down while she too was enslaved.


    He heard her laugh inside his head as he imagined the scene unfolding in his mind¡¯s eye. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right¡­¡± Nagisa purred, ¡°I could order you to watch and then allow Captain Juzo to defile her, and there¡¯s nothing you could do to stop it!¡±


    ¡°No!¡± The word was ripped from Taoru as a feral howl that echoed in the chamber.


    Nagisa¡¯s eyes widened in shock a split second before the tables turned. The Zosara tightened his grip on her hand, summoning fire so hot it immediately scorched her exposed skin. The flames grew in intensity, even as she writhed and fought to escape him, until her whole lower arm was engulfed.


    A warm gust of wind slammed into Taoru and threw him free of the warlord. He adjusted his tumble, rolling with the momentum and then twisting back to his feet so he was facing his attacker. He expected to see Aojiko there and was surprised it was actually Kiatsu.


    The young woman was standing protectively by her mother, a slight frown the only expression she displayed. She had been so quiet and unassuming this entire time he had not noticed the very faint ebb of magic within her until now.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Taoru only had a moment to process this realization before Nagisa stood up and shoved Kiatsu behind her, more out of anger than to protect her, it seemed. ¡°Fine! If you won¡¯t submit, then you leave me no choice! Captain, the girl!¡±


    Captain Juzo had been staring with his mouth wide open at the unexpected turn of events. At the warlord¡¯s command, however, he snapped into action. He started toward Lian with the hilt of his sword raised, intending to render her unconscious with a single blow. Once again, he did not consider Guankaran.


    The carpenter stepped between them and raised the shackles up to catch the blow. This gave Lian enough time to turn and deliver a solid, fire-fueled jump kick square to Juzo¡¯s exposed chest. The blow connected with such force it sent him flying backward. He released a very unbecoming shriek as his feet left the stone floor.


    ¡°Oh, I uh,¡± Guankaran pursed his lips thoughtfully, ¡°I believe that man has the key¡­¡± He held up his hands to indicate the iron manacles.


    Lian smiled at him, reached over, and heated the metal with her fingers. She was careful not to touch his already irritated skin. In a matter of seconds, the cheap locking mechanism had turned to slag, allowing her to remove the man¡¯s bonds without effort.


    Guankaran blinked. ¡°Yeah, that works, too.¡±


    Meanwhile, Taoru was in motion as well, only his path was blocked by the air Zosara they had met up on the peak. There was a strange look on her face as she squared off with him, almost as though she didn¡¯t want to be fighting him.


    ¡°Stand aside,¡± Taoru growled. ¡°I¡¯m taking my daughter and leaving. There¡¯s no need to¡ª¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t answer to you, Hiryuten!¡± This from Nagisa, who had collapsed onto her throne and was holding her burned arm close to her chest without actually touching it to herself. ¡°Aojiko, I want him alive. Handle it!¡±


    Aojiko let out a weary sigh and attacked. The blast of wind buffeted Taoru, who used jets of fire to resist the gale-force trying to knock him off his feet. His one and only objective was to reach Lian so they could escape. Once he was stabilized, he hurled a bolt of flame, trying to reposition his opponent so he could circle around her. She neatly dodged his strike and then conjured a second gust.


    About that time, Lian had finished freeing herself of her own manacles and saw her father was being held up. She looked down at the iron shackles in her hand, then back up at Aojiko, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. Taoru saw her pull her arm back and chose that moment to hurl more balls of fire, driving the air Zosara backward a couple of steps.


    She was focused on Taoru and didn¡¯t see or hear Lian¡¯s attack from behind until it was too late. Aojiko turned just as the cuffs struck, taking the blow directly to the face. She toppled to the floor in a heap of robes, blood gushing down her face and splattering onto her chest.


    Seizing the opportunity, Taoru rushed past her and rejoined his daughter. They didn¡¯t have time to do more than exchange a meaningful look as Juzo had recovered and was shouting for his men to attack. Nagisa was likewise bellowing, only she was venting her fury at Aojiko for being felled by a ¡®stupid little girl¡¯.


    ¡°We¡¯ve overstayed our welcome,¡± Guankaran remarked.


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to agree,¡± Taoru grunted in response.


    As the guards rushed toward them, the three Zosara joined forces and began to fight their way to freedom inch by inch.

 Chapter 29: Kentai - The Void Zosara

    Wujun did not respond to the voice, but Kentai, who had heard it clearly, turned his head to find the spirit of an old man standing at his side. Surprised, he glanced to the body laying on the ground near the house. Sure enough, it was the same person, only this was obviously his ghost.


    ¡°Oh, how ridiculous of me. No matter how I prattle on now, he¡¯ll never¡ª¡± The shimmering remnant of Goratsu stopped mid-sentence upon noticing he was being looked at. ¡°Can you¡­ see me?¡± He quirked a bushy eyebrow, appraising the swordsman shrewdly.


    Kentai nodded. ¡°And hear you.¡±


    This drew Wujun¡¯s attention. He glanced from the empty space to his friend and back again before understanding dawned on him. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± he asked. ¡°Is it Naizen? What¡¯s he saying?¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Kentai didn¡¯t answer Wujun; he was preoccupied sizing up Goratsu. ¡°You weren¡¯t here before. I would have seen you. What¡ª¡±


    ¡°Tsk! Don¡¯t be paranoid, young man.¡± Goratsu waved his hand dismissively and, despite being very dead, sniffed at the air. ¡°I was searching the town for the young Master and when I couldn¡¯t find him, I returned here. Just in time to witness a very interesting turn of events¡­¡±


    Mind racing, Kentai paused to consider what he was hearing. Most spirits didn¡¯t wander away from their bodies so soon after death. It took them time to come to terms with their fate. At least, that had always been his experience in the past. What was different now?


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you upset?¡± he asked, narrowing his gaze suspiciously. ¡°I mean, you realize you¡¯re dead, right?¡±


    ¡°Who are you talking to, Kentai?¡± Wujun asked again.


    He was getting impatient, but the swordsman still wasn¡¯t ready to tell him what was going on. He had to be sure it wasn¡¯t a trick of some sort. Could Naizen have manifested as a ghost and somehow changed his appearance to fool them? He didn¡¯t think that was possible, but then again, it¡¯s not like there were other Tomb Speakers around he could ask. He¡¯d been on his own with this curse since it manifested in his teen years.


    Goratsu heaved a sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, and then explained in a huffy tone. ¡°I am, or was, an old man. Death was inevitable, though I¡¯d have preferred to go peacefully in my sleep¡­¡± He smoothed his robes out before continuing. ¡°My first concern has always been for the welfare of the young Master. Though, I will say, the grave has given me a new, more clarified perspective on how I went about protecting him in life¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe you should have loosened the fuck up a bit.¡± Kentai couldn¡¯t help himself.


    ¡°Such abysmal language!¡± Goratsu looked most displeased. ¡°I see you were the one giving bad habits to my pupil. No doubt you were also the reason he¡ª¡±


    Wujun had reached his limit for waiting. He grabbed Kentai¡¯s shoulder, though not roughly. ¡°I know you¡¯re talking to a ghost! Who is it, Kentai? Tell me, please!¡± There was longing and desperation in his eyes that belied his desire to say goodbye to his tutor. Given how upset he¡¯d been when he came to the inn that night, it was likely he needed to make amends.


    Were it anyone else, Kentai would have denied them. He had gotten involved in the affairs of spirits and seen what happened when they couldn¡¯t be satisfied.


    This is different. He¡¯s fresh and he obviously cares about Wujun enough that his own death didn¡¯t deter him from leaving to make sure he was safe.


    ¡°It¡¯s Goratsu,¡± he finally admitted and hoped he wasn¡¯t making a huge mistake.


    Wujun sucked in a gasped breath, his eyes shimmering with tears. ¡°He¡¯s really¡­ there? Is he okay? Is he angry with me?¡± Droplets rolled down his round cheeks and he swiped at them irritably. ¡°Master Goratsu, I¡¯m so sorry for everything I said. I didn¡¯t mean it. You are¡­¡± He choked on a sob. ¡°You were the closest thing I ever had to a father¡­ I could never¡­¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Kentai gripped his arm, trying to provide some measure of comfort. From the corner of his eye, he watched the old man¡¯s reaction. Goratsu¡¯s expression softened at first, he seemed touched by the admission, but then he brushed it away and became the stoic, stuffy tutor once again.


    ¡°Come now, emotional outbursts are unbecoming a young man of your stature.¡± There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it.


    Feeling a little awkward, Kentai relayed the message word-for-word and hoped it wouldn¡¯t upset Wujun. He was surprised when, on the contrary, he laughed through the tears and nodded in agreement. He was still crying too much to respond, but there was a definite shift in his mood. This led Kentai to conclude the phrase held a secret, significant meaning for the two of them.


    Once he had composed himself, Wujun straightened, patting Kentai¡¯s hand. ¡°Thank you. I feel a little better now,¡± he assured them both. ¡°There¡¯s just one more thing I have to do¡­¡± With that, he set his jaw in determination and headed back to the house, specifically to Goratsu¡¯s body.


    If Kentai had to guess, Wujun was going to move it so the flames would consume it as well. This way, if Tzulan¡¯s men returned, they wouldn¡¯t be able to defile his tutor¡¯s remains any further.


    Kentai made to help, but Goratsu¡¯s solemn voice stopped him.


    ¡°You there, Kentai was your name, yes?¡± He fixed a stern gaze on the swordsman, who merely nodded in reply, once again suspicious.


    ¡°I saw your bit of magic as well, so I can deduce that you are a metal Zosara. How the young Master became involved with you, I am not sure and at this stage it isn¡¯t important.¡± He waved his hand as though shooing away a fly. ¡°Listen closely, for I say this to you now only because you were willing to risk harm, possibly even death, for Wujun. He needs a protector, a true protector, and I believe you are fated to fulfill that role in his life now.¡±


    Kentai opened his mouth to protest. He didn¡¯t believe in fate or destiny, and he wasn¡¯t about to swear any oaths to a ghost based on such nonsense either. He would look after Wujun because he cared for him, not because he was obligated to.


    ¡°Hush, young man, until I am finished,¡± Goratsu scolded, cutting off his objections. ¡°Now, where was I¡­? Oh yes!¡± He cleared his throat and continued. ¡°I have come by a great deal of knowledge in my life, some of which my employers consider forbidden and therefore it has not been taught to the young Master. However, now that I¡¯m beyond their control, and given what I witnessed here tonight, I have no qualms¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just get fucking on with it, old man!¡± Kentai snapped, his patience wearing thin. He didn¡¯t have all night to stand here and listen to a lecture.


    Goratsu huffed irritably, folding his arms across his chest and grumbling to himself. After he¡¯d gotten over the audacity and insolence of the interruption, however, he began again. ¡°As I was saying,¡± he glared challengingly at the swordsman for a second, ¡°I have heard and read a little about void Zosara, enough to know they are incredibly rare. If Wujun has this power, then it means there is also a chaos Zosara, for the two are eternally bound, their souls shared. I know little more than that, I¡¯m afraid. Records of the last known pair were mostly destroyed after the fall of the Qin Empire. By the Conclave of Zozatai, I might add.¡± He glared again, as if it were personally Kentai¡¯s fault. ¡°But never mind that¡ª¡±


    He was interrupted again, this time by Soki rejoining them. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and was covered in ash. No doubt she had gone into the burning estate to fetch whatever was inside. This was the least of Kentai¡¯s worries, however, for he suddenly wondered how much Soki knew. Had she been aware of Wujun¡¯s power? Had she seen what he¡¯d done?


    ¡°Why are you just standing here?¡± she snapped, dropping the bag at his feet and then going over to assist Wujun. Not that he needed it, as the young man had already positioned the body and was just setting a stick aflame.


    Kentai watched the two interact, though Goratsu¡¯s spirit did not. No doubt to avoid catching a glimpse of his corpse. Most ghosts found the sight unsettling. Soki attempted to stop him from messing with the fire, but Wujun refused to allow her interference. After a brief argument, she relented and stood nearby, sulking.


    ¡°Do not trust her¡­¡± Goratsu hissed in a soft voice, though there was no need for him to whisper. ¡°She is a Shadow, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve learned. I don¡¯t know if she saw Wujun¡¯s display, but if she did¡­ The Circle¡¯s primary goal has always been the eradication of your kind. If he truly is the void Zosara¡­¡± He trailed off, not wanting to put the thought into words. There was no need for him to do so; Kentai was already mulling the possibilities over.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll look after him.¡± He found the words rolling off his tongue. Kentai did not make pacts or promises lightly, but in this case, watching as Wujun laid his tutor¡¯s body to rest, he couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°I swear it to you, here and now. I will protect Wujun to my last breath.¡±


    Goratsu let out a pleased sigh. ¡°Tell him I¡¯m¡­ No, he wouldn¡¯t believe an apology.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Tell him I said ¡®goodbye¡¯.¡±


    The swordsman watched in amazement as something happened he had never seen before; Goratsu¡¯s spirit began to fade. The shimmering form lost its shape, dissipating like mist until there was nothing remaining except empty air. He was still staring at the spot where Goratsu had disappeared when the others rejoined him.


    ¡°Is he¡­¡± Wujun asked, his voice faint and uncertain.


    Kentai put a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder and smiled. ¡°He¡¯s at peace.¡±

 Chapter 30: Lian - Falling Leaves In Winter

    They cut a swath through the palace guards and soldiers who blocked their way to freedom. Lian and Taoru acted as the muscle, blasting troops with fireballs and otherwise dealing with anyone who got in too close. They were a furious torrent of flame and agility, working in flawless, effortless synergy.


    Guankaran was likewise beneficial, using plants and roots to slow their enemies and prevent them from being overrun. More than once, he summoned grasping vines down the length of an adjacent hallway or covered the ground behind them with a bramble of thorny brush.


    Lian, who had never seen another Zosara besides her father, was quite impressed by the ease in which he cast spells. His style differed greatly from the heavy-hitting, powerful strikes of the fire tradition the Dragon Warriors had once been famous for. Guankaran moved with a serene confidence, his gestures minimalistic but graceful. He could have been wandering through a peaceful forest on a warm summer day and not battling his way out of a warlord¡¯s heavily fortified palace.


    Are all carpenters this¡­ strange? Lian thought, pausing to watch as the man bent over and plucked something from the ground beside a fallen guard. He held the object up to the light of a nearby torch, mumbled to himself, and tucked it into his pocket.


    He must have felt Lian¡¯s gaze for he turned that lop-sided grin to her and remarked as casually as if they were standing in a field of wildflowers, ¡°I found a bit of broken bronze. Never know when that might come in handy.¡±


    Her tongue was tied. She wanted to say something smart or witty, but all she managed was to raise her eyebrow at him, her mouth open as if she were about to speak, but no sound was emitted.


    Before she could figure out what to say, a fresh wave of soldiers surged toward them and dragged Lian¡¯s focus back to the fight.


    With a bit more effort, they finally made it to the courtyard where, just that morning, Lian had gotten them all into this mess. She tried not to think about it and instead turned her attention to the guards who were waiting for them.


    Taoru was on her right, moving like a serpent as he dodged a spear being thrust at his chest. She wanted to watch his counterattack, but forced herself to focus on the pair of guards rushing forwards. One of them seemed to hesitate while Lian just stood there, staring them both down. Had he expected her to flinch away? She didn¡¯t fear them. Her father had given her the tools and training so that she wasn¡¯t a helpless damsel.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    A fierce grin lit up her eyes as she rushed them, her strikes faster than the eye could track. She punched the one who had hesitated in the throat, while the other swung for her. It was easy to dodge the slash, ducking around his comrade so he couldn¡¯t take another swipe at her.


    She shoved at the guard closest to her, flames sparking from her fingertips as she did so and catching his tunic ablaze. His squeal of alarm caused enough mayhem that Lian was able to knock them both unconscious with a single blow each. As they fell to the ground, one after the other, she summoned the still burning fire into her palm and immediately hurled it at a soldier who had been rushing Guankaran.


    The carpenter was busy filling an adjacent corridor with writhing vines and had been momentarily exposed. Lian¡¯s quick action may not have been necessary, surely he had seen and heard the man coming, but she wasn¡¯t about to take that chance. For better or worse, they were in this mess together and she was not about to leave him behind.


    As they thinned out the latest group of guards, the trio kept pushing onward. Never yielding ground, always covering their backside before advancing. It was painstaking, but necessary. The tight spaces helped, giving them the advantage against the larger force until they were finally able to make it to the courtyard.


    Once outside, they paused to take in the sheer number of troops; there had to be something like three dozen or more gathered along the walls and barring the gate. Behind them, a cluster of writhing, creeping vines covered their backs, but it was only a matter of time before the men on the other side cut or burned their way through.


    Taoru raised his hands, his fingers crackling with angry flames. He shot Lian a glance she knew was his way of telling her not to stop moving, no matter what happened. She was about to protest, to insist they could escape this together, when Guankaran spoke up first.


    ¡°I think¡­¡± he mused, tilting his head thoughtfully. ¡°¡­autumn might be my favorite season of the year. You know, because of the leaves¡­¡± He put his hands on his hips suddenly as though that decided something quite important. ¡°Yes, definitely the leaves!¡±


    With that, he cast again, this time staring straight ahead as the spell, uttered in ancient draconic as most incantations were, rolled off his tongue. The sensation of magic filled the air, tantalizing Lian¡¯s senses and making her feel giddy. Slowly, one by one, Guankaran summoned the vividly colored autumn leaves he¡¯d been speaking of. Red, yellow, and fiery orange fell from the sky like droplets of rain. A trickle that turned steadily into a torrential downpour.


    Lian didn¡¯t think she had ever seen anything so beautiful in her life. She stood in place, spellbound, even as the courtyard was flooded by an unnatural mass of leaves. The soldiers were panicking, frightened not only by the incredible display of magic but the fear of being buried alive by it. Her gaze shifted to the strange man standing beside her who could make the sky rain autumn leaves even in winter. The butterflies in her stomach were caused by an entirely new feeling as the first stroke of affection was traced upon her heart.

 Chapter 31: Aojiko - How Legends Are Born

    Nagisa was more furious than Aojiko had ever seen her before. She was so angry that her ability to make informed decisions had eroded, reducing her to little more than a shouting, raving, mad woman. At first, she yelled for the air Zosara to pursue her fellow casters, but then she changed her mind once she realized how severely injured she was.


    Her arm was charred black. Had Nagisa not been pumped full of adrenaline, she would have been lying on the ground writhing and screaming in agony. Of that, Aojiko had no doubt. Wounds of this magnitude could bring down even the most proud and fierce of individuals; not that Nagisa would ever admit it.


    Kneeling beside her master, Aojiko used a subtle manipulation of air magic to waft the scent of burned flesh in a different direction. The smell itself nearly made her gag but looking at it up close churned her stomach unpleasantly. She wasn¡¯t sure if the limb could even be saved at this point. It appeared Taoru¡¯s wrathful fire had burned even after the two had been separated.


    Nagisa deserved it. She deserved to have his flame consume her slowly and painfully¡­


    Aojiko kept the hate and contempt off her face as she worked. She would do what she could to save the arm and allow it to retain as much use as possible, but she wasn¡¯t optimistic on either point.


    Raising her hands, she swirled them in a slow pattern, like a puppeteer manipulating the strings of a disfigured, grotesque marionette. The cool breeze swirled around Nagisa¡¯s hand and arm, soothing the ravaged flesh. Magic penetrated the wound, seeping through to the very bones and radiating outward as invisible plumes of vile smoke. Aojiko, her eyes half-closed, focused on maintaining her circulation and on carefully dissipating the negative energy as it was released.


    The warlord¡¯s impatient fury didn¡¯t make Aojiko¡¯s job any easier. More than once, she paused to regain her concentration after Nagisa had shouted and nearly jumped to her feet. From the stray bit of news she could catch, pursuit of the three errant Zosara was not going well.


    Every guard that had been sent after them had thus far been thwarted. Even the pack of dogs had been cut off somewhere around the armory. Thankfully, though the fighting had gone by there, the Zosara had no need for weapons and had done nothing except block the entrance with a dense thicket of brambles.


    At the latest news, Kiatsu tried to step in and calm her mother, but Nagisa was having none of it. As always, the young woman bore the tongue-lashing with far more grace than she should have. Seen and not heard, that was Kiatsu¡¯s role in all things. Constantly, she was reassured one day her lesson in observation would end, and it would be her turn to continue her mother¡¯s legacy.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Aojiko knew from the glimpses she¡¯d seen thanks to her gift of insight Kiatsu was destined for a greater legacy. One that would far outweigh Nagisa¡¯s. It was a detail the Zosara had never shared and never would. She feared that by doing so she would put a target on Kiatsu¡¯s back.


    Right now, she was viewed as meek and soft and therefore she was always underestimated. Aojiko would do nothing to alter this perception. It was up to Kiatsu to find her own way in the world for if she ran into trouble, the air Zosara would not be able to help her.


    After a bit longer, Aojiko let the magic slip away. There was little else she could do for now. ¡°It will require multiple healing sessions,¡± she said, interrupting Nagisa¡¯s verbal barrage of Kiatsu. ¡°You should have a medicine woman tend to it as well. Cleaning it and applying salves will aid the process.¡±


    The warlord growled, inspecting her arm with a sneer on her face. It didn¡¯t look much better, less blackened, less raw. Most of what Aojiko had accomplished was subtle, such as taking measures to prevent infection, speed up the body¡¯s healing response, and strengthen badly damaged tendons that would need to be viable later. Function was more important at this stage than worrying about scars. There was no getting around it; Nagisa would forever be disfigured by this injury.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so satisfied, Aojiko. I¡¯m still breathing.¡± Nagisa¡¯s voice was a harsh whisper. She wasn¡¯t finished taking her rage out on those around her. ¡°I know you let the girl hit you on purpose¡­¡±


    Clenching her jaw, Aojiko stood up, refusing to rise to the bait. She could still feel the ache from the two gashes on her face, one above her brow and the other across her cheekbone. The blow had caught her off guard. She had not wanted to fight Taoru; it was true she did not give that fight her best. She had focused only on keeping him at bay instead of truly attacking him.


    They were meant to escape this prison. Their destiny lies elsewhere.


    She knew that with utter assurance. At the moment Taoru had broken free, Aojiko had glimpsed his fate. The mental image of Taoru astride a great, fearsome dragon of old still heated the blood in her veins. Somehow, she had a part to play in his ascension, but for now, that glorious future was little more than desperate longing for a freedom she felt would never come.


    A messenger burst into the audience chamber, distracting Nagisa from any further goading she might have had in mind. ¡°Warlord!¡± He bowed hastily, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He must have run the entire way here. ¡°They¡¯ve reached the courtyard. A-and,¡± he stammered before spitting out the rest, ¡°one of them summoned¡­ leaves.¡±


    ¡°Leaves?¡± Nagisa scoffed, waving her good hand dismissively. ¡°Is this some sort of joke? Do you really wish to try my patience¡ª?¡±


    He rattled his head in a firm no. ¡°Forgive me, warlord, it¡¯s no joke¡­ The courtyard,¡± he swallowed. ¡°The courtyard is filled with more leaves than could come from an entire forest!¡±


    Aojiko turned her face away and smiled faintly. This was how legends were born.

 Chapter 32: Taoru - Make Like A Tree

    Leaves. The man had conjured leaves.


    Taoru wasn¡¯t sure whether to be impressed or worried by the carpenter¡¯s continued creativity. He had to admit though, the tactic was effective. Most of the warlord¡¯s troops had gotten out of the courtyard, either by rushing for the gate before getting buried or by climbing ropes let down by their allies on the walls.


    He looked over at Lian, intending to figure out their next move, but what he saw wiped what he¡¯d been about to say off his mind. He had never seen that expression on his daughter¡¯s face before. Oh, he was quite familiar with it and had seen his fair share of smitten young women gaze up at him with the same glimmer in their eyes. Taoru had prepared himself years ago for men to pursue her, but he had never thought about what he¡¯d do when she started pursuing them.


    ¡°Hm.¡± Guankaran tapped his finger to his chin. ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s time for us to, uh, leaf.¡±


    Despite himself and the strange feeling that had settled over him, Taoru snorted a chuckle even as Lian groaned loudly between the two men.


    ¡°How exactly do you plan on doing that?¡± she grumbled. ¡°The whole courtyard is buried, and the guards behind us are chipping away at the vine wall¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, well.¡± Guankaran wasn¡¯t finished it seemed. ¡°I considered that, and I believe I have a solution.¡± A wry grin played across his lips as he raised his hands again, his fingers wiggling whimsically.


    Taoru, under the guise of giving him space, pulled Lian back a pace. He felt far more protective of her than he had been before around the young man. Though, he supposed she could do worse for herself than fall for a carpenter¡­ He just didn¡¯t like the idea of her falling for anyone yet. Perhaps when she was five or ten years older.


    These thoughts assailed him as he watched Guankaran perform another spell. With those same precise motions and sparing words, he created a catwalk from their current location up to the closest parapet. It was little more than a very thick, knobby log, but it would serve nicely to get them out of the courtyard.


    Already the guards were regrouping, overcoming their shock. It wouldn¡¯t be much longer before they attacked, especially once they realized what the three of them were about to do.


    Lian was the first one onto the log. No sooner had she started up it that the soldiers figured out their escape route. A volley of arrows sliced through the air toward her, but she expertly dodged them without breaking stride. That is, of the ones that didn¡¯t get waylaid by the still falling leaves. It was wise she didn¡¯t use fire, else stray sparks might have set the courtyard ablaze.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Next went Guankaran, who was followed closely by Taoru. The older man made it his job to guard the younger as more arrows flew toward them. After a great deal of narrow misses and flailing on the carpenter¡¯s part, they joined Lian at the wall.


    She was already in motion, pushing the troops back to give her companions room to leave the exposed position of the massive log. Several guards had been thrown over the sides into the safe cushion of leaves below; still more lay unconscious at her feet. The remaining soldiers learned quickly that despite her size, the young woman was not to be underestimated.


    Taoru could only watch her for a moment, but his heart soared with pride all the same. It was the curse of all parents to worry about their children, even after they were fully grown. Part of him didn¡¯t want to admit she was a woman now, that he could not always fight her battles for her. Someday, he would let go of his fear, but not today, not after he had nearly lost her forever.


    He turned around, crouching down beside the log that had served as their means of escape. Behind him, Guankaran lingered as well, watching the older man from the corner of his eye.


    ¡°I would do anything for her¡­¡± Taoru confessed quietly, his words almost drowned out by the sounds of battle around them. To emphasize this, an arrow plunked off the stone near his head. He did not flinch.


    ¡°So I¡¯ve observed,¡± Guankaran responded.


    Down below, the courtyard was still filled with a sea of flame-colored leaves. Taoru knew men were trapped within, but that was not something he could take into consideration just now. He closed his eyes, calming himself, being sure in this moment, his actions were not fueled by hate or fear. This was survival; this was a father protecting his only daughter and nothing else.


    ¡°She¡¯s quite¡­¡± Guankaran seemed to muse to himself again. His voice drew Taoru from the dark recesses of his own mind. ¡°Intrepid,¡± he finally settled on the word.


    Taoru had expected him to say something else, and when he didn¡¯t, the older man inclined his head, gazing up at the other curiously. ¡°Not ¡®spirited¡¯, then?¡± he asked, studying Guankaran closely for his reaction.


    He wrinkled his nose in distaste, fixing Taoru with a dubious frown. ¡°Spirited? She¡¯s not a horse¡­¡±


    There was no way for Guankaran to know he had just passed a secret test. Taoru smirked and turned back to the tree trunk and the courtyard below. The grin faded as the seriousness of the moment returned. He could hear Lian shouting in annoyance at them for dallying and couldn¡¯t blame her. After almost twenty years of living in Baisho Province near the city of Kurokume, it was time to sever all ties to the community and find another home.


    Taoru touched the rough bark of the log again, caressing it with his fingertips almost reverently. As though the gesture had created it, a spark of flame erupted, catching the surface alight. At his back, Guankaran was working his own magic once more. He sapped the wood of its moisture and vibrance, turning it into dry kindling so the conflagration spread hotter and faster down the length of its trunk.


    The foliage beneath it went up next, turning into a sea of fire. Those unfortunate enough to be caught within screamed in agony as the inferno consumed them as well. Along the walls, the other troops stopped their attack and began turning their focus toward controlling the blaze before it could spread. It was not the outcome Taoru would have preferred, but it was the one he had been pushed to.


    He didn¡¯t look back. He would never look back. Warlord Nagisa had begun this feud by threatening what was most precious to him. The lives lost were on her hands.


    As smoke billowed into the air, the three fugitives fled amidst the chaos.

 Chapter 33: Wujun - The Wall of Kurokume

    EARLY JANUARY 845 AQE


    Escaping Tiguri was the hardest thing Wujun had ever lived through. Sleep was hard the first couple of weeks they traveled. Not just because he was unused to laying on the hard ground, but because of the nightmares that plagued him. Kentai reassured him they would fade once his mind processed the horrors he¡¯d witnessed, but that had been a slight comfort when he awoke drenched in sweat.


    Now, as they approached the massive stone walls of Kurokume, queued with dozens upon dozens of other refugees, those rough nights didn¡¯t seem so bad. Looking around at the rest of the survivors, the haggard adults and half-starved children, Wujun thought he had it pretty good.


    Kentai¡¯s hand brushed against his, drawing his gaze. The swordsman winked at him, then leaned over and whispered, ¡°Why so glum? Tonight you get a hot meal, a refreshing bath, and sleep in a proper bed¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He frowned, knowing he should take some comfort in that. ¡°But how many others will go hungry and sleep in the streets, cold and filthy?¡± His heart ached and he let out a sigh, trying to find the right words. ¡°So many are suffering and if the rumors are true, if Tzulan really means to conquer all of Ryuutachi, then a lot more will suffer before he¡¯s done. I can¡¯t ignore it and do nothing, Kentai. I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    He forgot what he was saying as Kentai turned his head and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Wujun sighed, surprised but pleased at the sudden sweetness and then disappointed as the warmth of the swordsman¡¯s mouth pulled away.


    Behind them, he heard Soki sniff in disapproval. She didn¡¯t like him fraternizing with a Zosara. Wujun found he didn¡¯t care what she thought.


    After leaving Tiguri behind, Kentai had found a moment when they were alone to share with Wujun all Goratsu had said about void Zosara. He wasn¡¯t sure if the old tutor had been correct or not, but it was as good an explanation as any. He didn¡¯t know what it all meant or what he would do with this strange power. There hadn¡¯t been enough time for him to consider it. The revelation was as jumbled in his mind as the events from the night they fled. He feared it would take a lifetime to process it all.


    As for Soki, Wujun was confident that she would never hurt him and so, despite Kentai¡¯s protests, he insisted that the three of them remain together.


    ¡°Yes, people will suffer in this damned war.¡± Kentai returned them to their original topic, ignoring Soki¡¯s dissatisfaction as though she weren¡¯t there. ¡°If you want to help, then you¡¯ll find a way to help. That said,¡± the line moved forward and so he paused to reposition, ¡°if you don¡¯t take care of yourself, then you¡¯re useless to others. There¡¯s no shame in taking time to rest and regain your strength.¡±


    Wujun nodded, knowing he was right, but still struggling to shake away the guilt completely.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    At least we¡¯re safe here for now. Whoever thought to build this wall was clever, but I fear it will only hold off the horde of Tzulan for so long. Eventually, he¡¯ll breach it and then the west will fall just as Sunaizo Province did.


    Absentmindedly, Wujun placed his hand in Kentai¡¯s and let out a sigh as his fears for the future were eased somewhat. As long as Kentai and Soki were with him, Wujun was ready to face anything.


    The comfort was fleeting. Unrest coursed suddenly through the line of refugees ahead of them, followed by despair and then outrage. Several of the men were shouting angrily, accusing Baisho¡¯s warlord of some rather colorful sexual escapades the thought of which made Wujun¡¯s ears flush pink.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on¡­¡± Kentai growled, to nobody in particular. ¡°Stay here,¡± he ordered a second later. He began shoving his way through the line that was quickly deteriorating into an angry mob.


    Despite what he¡¯d been told, Wujun followed him, slipping through the small wake that the large swordsman had created in the aftermath of his passing. He barely dodged a couple of elbows and wildly flailing arms as he weaved his way through the throng. Kentai was content to push and shove, forcing others to make space for him, but Wujun didn¡¯t feel such a method suited him.


    They finally reached the front of the mass, where a contingent of soldiers stood protectively in front of a well-dressed official. The well dressed man was holding a piece of parchment in one hand, but his wildly jerking arm made it impossible to read what it said. He appeared to be quite flustered, his hair mussed and his face beet red. ¡°Don¡¯t hang the messenger!¡± he kept screaming.


    That¡¯s when Wujun realized the gate had been closed. His heart sank.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± Kentai repeated his question, this time directing it at the flailing official. ¡°Hey, assface, why is the gate closed?¡±


    Fixing Kentai with an indignant glower, the official put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. ¡°You will address me as Lord Hufong¡ª!¡± His declaration was cut short by a limp, slimy head of cabbage striking him in the face. ¡°Who threw that? How dare you! You oafs are supposed to be protecting me!¡±


    Even someone as inexperienced as Wujun could figure out that this was about to go badly. Hufong must have thought so, too. He threw the document at the nearest guard, stuck his nose into the air and turned toward the gate. ¡°Let me back in! I don¡¯t have to take this!¡±


    At his command, the iron portcullis slid upward just enough that he could duck beneath it. More items were hurled toward him, including a few rocks, but once he was on the other side, very little made it through the rungs. Not willing to deal with it either, the guards all followed him, with only one pausing long enough to hand the document to Kentai before he too returned to safety.


    Wujun peered over Kentai¡¯s shoulder, his eyes skimming the page. The more he read, the heavier his heart became, fear creeping back in as he realized they were trapped here. He looked up at Kentai¡¯s face, hoping the swordsman would have a clever answer, but he was met with a worried frown.


    ¡°The city is full, my ass,¡± Kentai muttered and tossed the parchment to the ground.


    Around them, the refugees were pushing forward, fully infuriated, to rattle the portcullis. Kentai took Wujun¡¯s hand and led him out of the way. They found a place to stand a short distance away and remained there, watching as panic washed through the dozens of refugees. Each one of them knew that Tzulan¡¯s army would come through this valley and squash them all like insects. Instead of finding sanctuary in Kurokume, they had found a dead end. There was no way forward and no way back.


    They were all doomed.

 Chapter 34: Nagisa - Harden Yourself Or Die

    Warlord Nagisa stood on top of the wall facing east and tried to feel confident in its ability to protect her land and people. Below her, she could see the mass of refugees, setting up camp at her doorstep like unwanted pests. She should have felt some sympathy for them, but she didn¡¯t.


    They were parasites, come to drain her province of its precious resources with their greedy mouths. Who knew what diseases they carried that would spread through the population, weakening her army? She had allowed some to enter, but the stream of pathetic, useless meat bags was never ending. Today, she had put an end to it.


    At her side, ever present, Nagisa could almost hear Kiatsu¡¯s heart breaking. She was too soft, even after everything she had witnessed in the Warlord¡¯s presence. Hard, unpopular decisions had to be made. Their own people had to come first. ¡°You think me cruel,¡± Nagisa whispered, half turning to fix her black eyes on the frail young woman. It was not a question, but a statement of fact.


    Kiatsu shook her head immediately, sending a ripple through her warm, brown hair. ¡°I think your position forces you to make tough decisions,¡± she answered in a quiet tone. ¡°I have the luxury of compassion, but you do not.¡±


    ¡°Well said,¡± Nagisa turned her gaze back to the valley below them. Out of nowhere, her arm twinged painfully. She gritted her teeth together, refusing to show any sign of weakness to the troops stationed on the wall. Aojiko¡¯s healing had allowed her to keep the limb, but every now and again she could still feel the bite of Taoru¡¯s wrath.


    Her lip curled upward at the thought of him. She had come so close to adding his strength to her arsenal and yet somehow he had overcome the same power that had bound Aojiko for decades. Absently, she reached up with her good hand and touched the spot where a ruby amulet lay hidden beneath her cuirass. She had taken it from her father¡¯s lifeless corpse when she was barely seventeen and only learned years later the power it possessed.


    ¡°We¡¯re done here, Kiatsu. Come.¡± She spun on her heel and marched along the wall.


    Her focus was still in the past, remembering the day she had sat in her father¡¯s study trying to find a solution to a war that was spiraling out of her control. Instead, she found his journals, which he had kept meticulously, and uncovered a wealth of knowledge not just in the inner workings of his complex mind, but in what he had accumulated in ancient tomes as well.


    She discovered her father, Onikubo, was fascinated by the Conclave and had spent his life curating an impressive collection of books and artifacts related to them. What had been his hobby soon became her obsession, her lifeline to securing her seat of power and eventually growing her holdings. Had it not been for Tzulan¡¯s prominent rise shifting her priorities, she would have conquered all the western provinces by now.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    When they were in the privacy of the turret stairwell, Nagisa paused and turned to speak with her daughter. She kept her voice down, mindful that they might still be overheard. ¡°You would do well to shed yourself of compassion entirely. In a world of strength and violence, you must not allow feelings to cloud your ability to act. Blind trust and complacency led to my father¡¯s demise and I swore, standing over his corpse, that I would not suffer the same fate.¡±


    Kiatsu frowned up at her, struggling between a desire to apply the lesson and to reconcile such callous thinking with her own gentleness. Had she been born in a different age, the young girl would have been an artist or scholar, but like Nagisa she had the misfortune of living in a darker, harsher world.


    ¡°If you are lost at sea and another person is drowning, you do not stop to help them,¡± Nagisa leaned close, her voice a low, firm growl. ¡°Their panic will doom you both, all because you let your heart dictate your actions. You must approach every situation as though your survival depends on the outcome. Do you understand now?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but¡ª¡±


    Nagisa slammed her good fist into the wall beside Kiatsu¡¯s head, causing the girl to jump. ¡°There are no caveats, Kiatsu!¡± she snapped, holding up her gnarled hand between them as unspoken proof that her wisdom was not flawed. ¡°There are no exceptions! At this very moment, war is marching toward us! Do you think because you are a woman they will hesitate to defile and kill you? I will not always be here to protect you, girl! Harden yourself or die!¡±


    Kiatsu flinched, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. It didn¡¯t matter how many times Nagisa confronted her with the bald truth, her reaction was always the same. The girl simply wasn¡¯t cut from the same cloth and the warlord feared that when the time came, she would crumble beneath the unrelenting onslaught of reality. Perhaps, had Nagisa been able to bear her own children, she would have produced tougher stock. It was a regret, however, that did not deserve her attention.


    I should have known Aojiko¡¯s offspring would be weak and spineless. It¡¯s too late now, I¡¯ve invested everything in this pathetic whelp. I¡¯ll have to make do, as I always have.


    ¡°You¡¯ll resume your training with Sergeant Bankiro immediately.¡± Nagisa straightened and continued down the stairs. ¡°You won¡¯t rest until you¡¯ve mastered everything he has to teach you, am I clear?¡±


    She could imagine Kiatsu¡¯s startled expression without having to see it just by the tone of her voice. ¡°Mother, please. Is that really necessary? I don¡¯t think he likes me¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant. You can still learn from him.¡± Nagisa paused once more, turning to fix her daughter with a stern stare. Immediately, the girl hurried to join her, prompting the warlord to resume her pace. ¡°He is a tough instructor, but that¡¯s what you need; someone to drill the weakness from you.¡±


    Nagisa knew very well she was being overly harsh and she didn¡¯t care. It was only a matter of time before the next unwanted visitors arrived and they would do a lot more than throw moldy food and rocks.

 What Stalks The Shadows?

    For someone with the skills that Soki possessed, scaling the wall had been refreshingly easy, if tedious. She was trained by the best assassins in the world since she could walk to use tricks most ordinary humans had no clue existed. These secrets were passed down through the generations since the founding of the Circle by Emperor Qinsuto almost a thousand years ago. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t use such skills to get Wujun inside, especially since he insisted Kentai remain with them.


    The thought of the Zosara made her blood boil and her jaw clench. This anger was a distraction she couldn¡¯t afford, but the fact that Wujun had been so mixed up with Kentai was a huge failure on her part. She couldn¡¯t deny it, but neither would she admit to it aloud. At least not to her traveling companions.


    Soki¡¯s hands tightened into fists at her side as she slipped through the crowded streets of Kurokume, pushing her way past the citizens that to her eyes looked no different from the refugees. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell of fear and unwashed bodies, disgusted by the mass of weak, useless people who blocked her path. She had no patience for ordinary folk and couldn¡¯t imagine why Wujun worried about people he didn¡¯t know.


    I suppose, given his destiny, he should have some concern for the peasants serving him. But he cares too much. He¡¯s soft and impressionable. Goratsu, the old fool, he was supposed to train that out of him¡­


    She scowled, her jaw aching from how hard she was grinding her teeth. The whole affair in Tiguri had gone completely sideways and now, here she was, stuck in a foreign city, forced to work with her greatest enemy, a Zosara. The whole thing made her sick and yet she had to keep up the appearance of cooperation. She couldn¡¯t afford to be dismissed from Wujun¡¯s side. The Inner Circle did not tolerate failure, even from their leader¡¯s own daughter. She could afford no further shame.


    Abruptly, someone shoved into her, pushing her off balance and causing her to stagger into a dimly lit alleyway. She had been so focused on her ruminations that she didn¡¯t see the attack coming, but she was ready for the next blow and dodged out of the way before the hilt could connect with her head.


    For a brief moment she thought her assailant was Kentai, but then she whirled around to face him and saw right away that this was no Zosara. The man was disheveled, his clothes tattered and worn. His hair hung in greasy mats around his face, which was covered by a scraggly, graying beard. What she mistook for a sword was just a hilt attached to a rusted, broken stub of a blade.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Soki let out a derisive laugh and lowered her hands. ¡°Be gone beggar and I¡¯ll forget I ever saw you.¡± It was the only warning he would receive.


    He matched her scowl with one of his own and brandished the pathetic weapon. ¡°Hand over your valuables or else!¡±


    She let her expression melt away, revealing the emptiness in her eyes. There was no emotion in her as she drew a dagger slowly from its hidden sheath. Before the man could realize the severity of his mistake, Soki had dashed forward, her arm a blur as she slashed the blade across his throat. Blood sprayed out of the wound and he fell backward, clutching wildly at his neck.


    Without a shred of remorse, fear, or even anger, Soki stood over him until he choked to death on his own blood. Then, she smiled coldly and stepped over him on her her way out of the alley. Just as she¡¯d promised, as she returned to the street, she swept the encounter from her mind. He was nothing to her. She felt nothing. It was an obstacle that had been overcome and then forgotten.


    Emotions had been beaten down in her as a child. She had been shaped into a tool meant for one thing alone; killing in service of the Circle. It was why she had been born, her sole reason for living, and that was a fact she¡¯d come to terms with during her early years of training. It had been brutal, painful, but necessary.


    Wujun had yet to learn this lesson or else he wouldn¡¯t be swooning over the lowest form of life in Ryuutachi. Perhaps the Circle had been wrong not to initiate him into their ranks, to put him through the rigorous trials that would mold him as it had her? No sooner had the thought entered her mind that she swatted it away. It wasn¡¯t her place to judge. A decision had been made and there was no going back. She just had to trust that her superiors would be able to bring him back into the fold.


    Finally, Soki reached her destination and stopped in front of the vendor. ¡°What stalks the shadows?¡± she asked, her tone as casual as someone discussing the weather.


    The old man sitting beside the nearly barren vegetable stand scratched lazily at the side of his neck and held out his hand. ¡°Only the dead know,¡± he replied, not bothering to look at her.


    Satisfied, she placed a plain white scroll in his waiting palm. It was sealed with a distinctive crest, the one matching the signet ring she wore hidden beneath her clothes on a leather cord.


    Upon seeing it, the old man¡¯s eyes widened and he sat up a little straighter. He didn¡¯t speak again, but he nodded and she could tell by the set of his jaw he would deliver her message with haste.


    The Inner Circle has to know what I saw. I wouldn¡¯t have thought such a thing possible had I not seen it with my own eyes.


    Soki pivoted and slinked away from the merchant, her scowl deepening. She longed for the days when her duty was plain; protect Wujun. In the last few months, what was once so clear was now little more than a murky pond.


    Torn between loyalty and duty she had written only two sentences on the parchment: ¡®Qinsuto¡¯s heir has reached Kurokume. He is the void Zosara.¡¯