The dawn of the empire

The Quiet Stone monastery barely warranted the name yet. It was still a loose confederation of tents and huts surrounding a great stone outcropping neat the southern edge of the Dragon Heart Plain. Construction had begun on a large building that would serve as the monastery proper, but it might be years before it would be completed.

Tsumiko say on a flat plain of rock on the western edge of the stone outcropping, where she could feel the fading rays of the sun setting on her cool flesh. It had taken some time to grow accustomed to the sensation on her freshly shaven head, but she was now comfortable with her appearance. There were, after all, far more important things in existence.

The sound of distant hammering from the construction site reached her ears. The crack of the metal on stone had become a constant companion. Tsumiko was still not certain that the monastery was even necessary, much less that such time and resources should be devoted to it. Shinsei had visited the spot perhaps six months ago, shortly before he disappeared into the Shadowlands alongside the Seven Thunders. The wisdom he had imparted to those following him had been vastly enriched by the natural beauty and serenity of this place. Tsumiko had been among those followers, although she had gone by another name at the time. When Shinsei had departed, many had remained, including her.

Lengthy periods of meditation and study had followed. Other students of Shinsei joined them, until finally several dozen had remained in place for weeks on end. They had decided that they most honor the Little Prophet and his teachings in the only way they knew how: by devoting themselves to the study of his works.

For Tsumiko, the process of devotion was a simple one. She had been fasting for several days, and had eaten only a meager meal of rice and water for days before that. She had cleaned her system of impurities through vigorous exercise, and had now prepared her body for lengthy meditation.

The sound of hammering receded, becoming a droning, constant tempo that mirrored Tsumiko's own heartbeat. The cold stone beneath her, the rhythmic metal beat, the sensation of flesh exposed to the natural environment...these were the spirit of the earth.

The wind blew gently across the plain, rippling the coarse fabric of her clothing. The scent of distant blossoms on the wind, the carrying smell of stone dust, the sensation of breath coursing in and out of her lungs...these were the spirit of air.

An acrid tang of smoke carried from the workers, the scent of simple fires used to cook simple foods. Tsumiko felt the warmth of the sunshine on her skin, and the inner fire that burned within the soul of every physical body. These were the spirit of fire.

Finally, Tsumiko turned her awareness inward. The roaring of blood in her ears as it coursed through her body, bringing life and carrying away poison. The scent of rain on the air, preparing to bring life to the earth once more. These were the spirit of water.

Four elements. the rings that encircled and comprised all things, according to Shinsei's wisdom. The Little Prophet had shared this truth, but none of his followers yet understood. He had spoken of a fifth ring, a final element that existed in tandem with the others, yet outside them, uniting and dividing them. Tsumiko had spend many days contemplating this statement's meaning, but had failed to comprehend it.

Now, however, the young monk had resolved to empty her mind until the answer came. Shinsei had said that truth could not be sought, only discovered. Therefore Tsumiko did not focus on that which she sought. Instead, she emptied her mind of everything save the sensation of the elements around her.

Minutes stretched into hours without her notice. She lost herself in the emptiness of the moment, her only connection to the physical world the subtle influences of the elements on her entranced physical body. Tsumiko found herself adrift in a sea of nothingness, a boundless void without shape or form. She focused on it, willing herself to merge with the void, to dissolve into it, losing herself and becoming a small part of a vast, uninterrupted whole.

Then, suddenly, she was gone.

Tsumiko no longer existed as a single person. She was acutely aware of the sensations filling the universe around her. She could feel the last vestiage of heat from the sun fading from the rocks on the plain in front of her. She could feel the wind moving across the delicate surface of a single flower growing on the inhospitable plain. She could even feel the wind itself.

The monk was suddenly brought back to her senses by the sensation of an incredible energy coursing through her body. Strength and surety filled her limbs. Incredible clarity and serenity filler her mind. All at once, the mysteries of the Tao seemed simple and laid out before her. She opened her eyes...

And it was gone.

Tsumiko took a deep breath as the sensation faded. With a shaking hand she reached out and took the bowl of water, sipping it carefully. What had happened? She had merged with the void, becoming one with everything and nothing all at once. She had been a part of everything around her, and yet was removed from it all.

The void. It was the only name that fit. And it was all elements and none. The fifth ring.

Tsumiko smiles and stood on shaking legs. The others would want to know of this new truth.

One year later, the Quiet Stone monastery had become one of the finest monasteries in Rokugan. It was the progenitor of the philosophy of the void, a theory also espoused by the Phoenix Clan to the east. Tsumiko was a revered sensei among it's monks, and taught thousands of Shinsei's followers.

Upon her Death, her name was recorded among the Brotherhood's annals as among the few truly enlightened souls to have followed Shinsei into the next world.

The present

The lands south of the Dragon Heart Plain saw a sparse but regular traffic on most days. Once there might have been more, particularly during this time of year, but relations between the Dragon and the Phoenix clans had cooled in recent years. The river of trade caravans between the two lands had become a small trickle of independent merchants seeking to capitalize on the situation.

The stranger in the hooded cloak watched the travelers along the Emperor's road from afar. It saddened him to see so few. The Dragon and the Phoenix were wise and noble clans, and that they had allowed petty disagreements to interrupt a centuries-old tradition of alliance and cooperation was a terrible tragedy. If two clans such as they could be so removed from harmony, what chance did the Empire truly have? It was not encouraging.

He glanced north toward Quiet Stone monastery, the last bastion of civilization before the empty Dragon Heart Plain that stretched onward, seemingly forever, toward the northern mountains that marked Rokugan's border. It seemed a shame for such a vast expanse pf land to lie fallow when there were people without homes, food, or comfort. But evil things had happened in that vast plain, and even the desperate would not make their homes there.

The stranger sighed and rose from the stone where he had rested. Adjusting his cloak carefully, he set forward across the plain separating him from Quiet Stone monastery. Even from here he could make out the great stone outcropping from which Shinesi had supposedly spoken to his followers. The stranger smile at the thought. If every monastery that made such a claim was to be believed, then Shinsei spent a great deal of time sitting and talking. It 3was miraculous that he ever managed to gather the Thunders and defeat Fu Leng.

The stone at Quiet Stone had indeed been visited by Shinsei, and those who studied his wisdom within were among the wisest of the Brotherhood's sects. The stranger was confident that there he would find the assistance he needed to complete this last and most dangerous task. If not...it would make things substantially more difficult.

A short time later, he walked quietly through the monastery's open gate and into the courtyard. As he had expected, there were dozens of monks meditating in its center. It was a common time of day for such practices, he had discovered, and even the wisest student of Shinsei could prove predictable in certain matters. Still, the sun's light felt warm and inviting, and the serene atmosphere was more appealing then he wished to admit. He had been traveling for months on end, with little opportunity to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Perhaps soon he could rest, if his task was finished.

"Pardon me, good sir," a young monk said softly, bowing deeply as he approached. "welcome to Quiet Stone monastery. What brings you here on this glorious day?"

The stranger bowed deeply. "I wish to speak with the abbot, brother."

The monk smiled apologetically. "I am afraid the abbot is taking private meditation, and cannot be disturbed. You understand how important his spiritual pursuits are."

"Of course. His search for wisdom bears great importance, as does every soul's in Rokugan." He smiled warmly. "So I will not delay his search any longer. Please inform the abbot that a visitor has arrived and that I must speak with him."

The young man glanced down and looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Please understand, sama, that I have been instructed to permit no interruption. I have been at the monastery only a very short time, and would prefer not to prove myself unable to live in harmony with my brother monks."

"I understand." The stranger drew a scroll from within the folds of his cloak. "I think, however, that the abbot will excuse your lapse once he sees this scroll."

The young monk frowned and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He reached to take the scroll, then withdrew his hand and rubbed his chin for a moment. Finally, he reached out again, more decisively this time. Then he saw the seal it bore, and his eyes widened. "This is impossible," the youth said in a stunned whisper. "This is the Emperor's personal seal."

"Is it?" the stranger answered. "I had thought it looked familiar." He raised his eyebrows. "I imagine it must be urgent, don't you?"

The monk nodded enthusiastically and bowed so deeply it looked for a moment as if he might fall over. He rose just as quickly, beckoned for the visitor to follow him, and walked swiftly into the main temple.

The monastery's interior was undecorated save for a few trappings that marked individual shrines and the Fortunes of ancestors they revered. The monks of Quiet Stone maintained the ascetic lifestyle they had adopted over a thousand years ago.

The abbot's quarters were in a secluded portion of the monastery. The stranger waited for several long moments before the young monk reappeared and bowed deeply once again. "The abbot will see you now, sama."

He bowed and entered the chambers, which were no larger then any other monk's accommodations. The stranger had often found that the private meditations of a pious individual could confer harmony more surely then any shrine or temple, and he felt a sense of peace in the abbot's presence. The chief monk sat within the chambers, sitting on a simple meditation mat and surrounded by smoldering sticks of incense.

"Good day, friend," the abbot said with a smile. He was not yet old, but his eyes bespoke the weight of experience. "I am called Sojuni. You are welcome here. May I ask your name?"

"You may," the stranger answered, "but I may not give it. The power of a name is great indeed, and to protect my line I must keep many things secret." He considered for a moment. "In the last village I stayed in, the children called me Rosoku, after one of their brothers lost to the Rain of Blood. If it pleases you, you may call me thus as well."

"As you wish, Rosoku-sama," the abbot replied. His smile did not falter. "I understand you have something you wish to show me?"

"Yes." Rosoku withdrew the scroll once again from the folds of his robe and offered it with a bow. "I hope that you will accept it."

The abbot took the scroll and returned the bow, then examined the seal carefully. "This is indeed the Emperor's seal." He regarded the visitor with curiosity. "Forgive my impertinence, friend, but you do not appear to be a herald."

"Not a herald, just a messenger," Rosoku replied.

"This is related to the Emperor's contest, then," the abbot surmised. "And if you are not an agent of the Emperor, there is but one possibility." He rose and stepped forward, then kneeled before the stranger. "We are honored to have you among us, son of Shinsei."

"Rise, friend." Rosoku took the older man's arm and helped him to his feet. "You and yours need not bow to me. I am simply a traveler." He paused. "I have come to ask of you a favor, if I may be so bold."

"Anything," the abbot said instantly. "There is no boon you can ask that we will not gladly fulfill."

Rosoku gestured to the scroll. "The quest for the Books of Air, Fire, Earth and Water have begun. I have only to place the final scroll, and I may once again withdraw from the affairs of Rokugan. But I fear I may have revealed myself for too long. The Shadowlands would benefit greatly from the destruction of my line."

The abbot's face fell. "If it is protection you require, my friend, I and all who follow me would gladly lay down out lives to protect yours. But I fear we are no warriors."

"No, no," Rosoku insisted. "To ask that of you would be to have betrayed all that my ancestor once accomplished. No, the task I have for you is far simpler, though possibly no less dangerous then my own." He gestured to the scroll still in the abbot's hand. "That scroll contains the secrets of Void, the final secrets my ancestor withheld from his followers and that his descendants have contemplated for a thousand years. More then any other, this scroll truly holds the secrets that can aid the spirit in reaching enlightenment. It can be a powerful tool for mastery of spirit, but in the wrong hands if can bring terrible insight."

"What would you have me do?" the abbot asked sincerely.

"Keep it here. Guard it and protect it." Rosoku glanced to the north. "I will go and prepare the final challenge. I only hope that it will be sufficient to dissuade those who are not ready to learn what it holds."

The abbot looked confused. "How will I know the one who deserves to bear this book? How will I know who has met your challenge?"

"You need not," Rosoku replied. "He will know you."

The abbot bowed. "It would be out great honor, Rosoku-sama."

The descendent of Shinsei smiled. "The honor is mine, friend."

Somewhere far south of Rokugan

The herald's final scream was a long, jagged one. Perhaps it was exacerbated by the knowledge that he had failed, that he had betrayed the trust placed in him by his lord, his Emperor, and his family. Rigori smile at that thought. Betrayal and treachery were the most delightful punishments to visit upon the fools who called themselves samurai.

Rigori absently wiped the blood from his scarred fists as he left the chamber. The Miya's corpse would be gone when he returned, he knew. There were things within the monastery that dealt with such nagging details. He was not sure exactly what they were, and it was better that way. They dealt with problems, and that was all he needed to know. They left him free to focus on spiritual pursuits.

He went to his master's chamber's immediately, as he had been ordered to do. The revered sensei was deep in meditation, but his eyes opened as soon as Rigori entered, despite the monk's silent approach. His face, impossibly lined with the weight of too many years, drew awake and alert. Bloodshot eyes keen with intelligence glared down at Rigori. "What news?" he demanded.

"Success, master Bunrakuken," Rigori hissed. "The scroll the herald carried is authentic. The Emperor has declared a contest, some pitiful distraction for the cattle who follow him, for five scrolls that supposedly contain the secrets of each element within them. The goal is enlightenment."

"Enlightenment," Bunrakuken snorted with derision. "What do they know of true enlightenment? Enlightenment is not found in a book."

Rigori smiled broadly. "The scrolls were given to the Emperor by the descendant of Shinsei, master."

Bunrakuken's eyes blazed. "Interesting. The Little Prophet's heir has come out of hiding?" At Rigori's nod, his blackened, twisted features split into a wide grin. "How delicious. Our master the Shadow Dragon will be most intrigued by this knowledge. Let us throw out own challenger into this contest."

"Enlightenment, after all, is not a prize to be spurned by learned men."