The sound of the gong echoed through the halls of Otosan Uchi, its knell bitter in the chill twilight air. Sitting in the stone window, a silken figure reclined, her body outlined in the nimbus of the setting sun as it cast long shadows in rich tapestries on the wooden floor. From the doorway, a faint noise announced the kneeling servitor's presence. "Your will Lady." His voice was soft restrained, but she could hear that the veneer of control was stretched to its limit, and rage tore at Aramoro's dispassionate face.

A ray of light caught her face as Kachiko murmured from the window, "Aramoro." Unbound, her long hair hung in waves of obsidian, trailing down her back and clinging to the soft curve of her hip. The gong rang a second time, tolling the end of the daylight, the beginning of darkness. "Time is short, and ther are only a few hours left to serve our needs."

"I have found the man we seek, my Lady. His name is Hiroru." Aramoro raised his eyes from the floor as he spoke, feeling her gaze rest for a moment on his face. "He is a ninja ... but not one of min. Nevertheless, I believe we can trust him."

Kachiko moved away from the window and Aramoro felt a chill seep into his skin as her shadow briefly passed his kneeling figure. Her hands wove patterns in her jet-black hair, twisting it into wreaths at the nape of her neck. After a moment, she nodded, and Aramoro stood with a sharp bow, vanishing into the shadows by the door. By the time he returned, the last peal of the evening gong faded in the wind. the dying rays of the sunset drifted below the window, and her hair was softly fastened by ivory pins.

Beside Aramoro, a man strode into the chamber, his steps long and confident. He wore no armor, nor was his simple haori marked with house colors, but he moved with the practiced grace of a warrior. He pused before Kachiko with a short, brisk bow, and his dark eyes hung at her throat.

"You know my mind in this matter, Matsu," she said to him. "Take care where you place your trust."

"My heart does not judge for my eyes, Lady Scorpion."

Kachiko's eyes narrowed. "I am not so certain of that ... at least as far as one pretty face in concerned."

The ninja scowled, ignoring her words. "I know a man who can help me fulfill your request, lady. A man who knows much of the way of shadow."

She nodded. "You speak of the ronin with the Iuchiban blade?"

"Ginawa, hai. He is the one."

Aramoro saw Kachiko's glance, even though he was hidden deep in the shadows. "You spoke so highly of this one, my brother, and yet this is the second time he has recommended to me someone I would not trust with even a Crab's life."

Aramoro shuddered under her gaze. "Your will, my lady."

Hiroru shrugged. "You do not have to trust them. You only have to trust me."

Kachiko's smile was veiled beneath lowered lashes, and she brushed her fingertips against the sandalwood fan tucked into her obi. "A Scorpion? Trust a Lion?" The laughter behind her words was as soft as the silk of her kimono.

"I am a Lion no more, Lady." His voice was hard, and the words fell like shards of steel. Aramoro's hand reflexively sought the hilt of his blade, but Kachiko raised a graceful hand.

"Keep your steel at your side." She turned her attention back to Hiroru. "Very well. Trust who you will. The lives of our children are in jeopardy. The future of our Clan is in your hands ninja." All warmth left her eyes. "Now go. Find your lord and master. You will find my clan at your disposal."

Hiroru bowed curtly, turned on his heel and left the room, leaving only Kachiko, Aramoro and the shadows.

"I do not trust him, my lady," the ninja said.

"Your opinion of him has changed so quickly, my brother. Could that be because I show him the same trust I show you?" Aramoro bowed his head and Kachiko sighed. "Even at this hour, when we are banished to the lands beyond the Sun, I cannot give you reprieve." She smiles sadly and shook her head. "You must stay behind, Aramoro, and be my eyes." Aramoro stepped closer, kneeling before her. Her hand reached out and her fingers touched his hair. "I will always be with you, my brother. And I will return."

Far above them, deep in the darkest shadows, Hiroru watched the scene and whispered, "I am certain that you will." Then he turned and leapt silently across the rooftops toward the blazing fires of the ronin army encamped outside the palace walls.

Two years have passed since the Day of Thunder. Two years of rebuilding, of healing past wounds and reforging broken alliances. Two years of peace. Beneath the reign of Emperor Toturi, the lands of Rokugan have been reborn. The Clans have thrived, and alothough tension is still great between old enemies, there has been order. But on the morning of the second anniversary of Toturi's coronation, that order descended once more into chaos.

The new Tao, Shinsei's legacy to the Age of Man, holds no answers to the questions posed by Toturi's bloody chambers. The Empire holds to a fragile hope of rescue, but the Jade Throne stands empty in a silent audience hall. Soon, the Great Clans will again contest their claims to rule, and with no power to stay their hand, war's dark shadow will fall upon Rokugan once more.

Now all that remains is the illusion of peace. Great armies rise in the east, preparing to make their mark upon a weakened Empire, and old feuds begin to surface. Even the efforts of the Unicorn magistrates, the last bastion of law outside Otosan Uchi, may not be enough to quell the rising tide of revolution. In the dawn of a new Age, there are still lingering shadows of the past ...

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