Legions, Part IX

Legions - Destinies
Ikoma Ujiaki

Ikoma Ujiaki stood upon the walls of Otosan Uchi, looking out at the armies that made their inexorable march toward the city. The banners of seven Great Clans, the Mantis, and the wolf banner of Toturi flew among them. From here, he could hear the steady beat of the Lion drummers. He could hear the chants of the Kitsu sodan senzo as they called upon the ancestors to grant their warriors strength in battle. A part of him longed to join them.

Ranged around the city was an unspeakable army. Platoons of undead soldiers marched beside perverse oni born of Jigoku. Their leaders were those who had succumbed to the power of darkness – Isawa Tsuke, Moto Tsume, Yogo Junzo. These were his allies. It sickened him.

Ujiaki drove a fist into the stone battlement with a frustrated scowl, ignoring the pain. He was a man not accustomed to doubt. Throughout his life, his course had been clear. How could anything in life be unclear, bathed as it was in the glorious light of the Son of Heaven? It was impossible.

Yet now, he was not so sure. The Emperor was now controlled by the Taint, possessed by the power of Fu Leng. The Great Clans had abandoned their oaths, armies marching on the Imperial City. How could they call themselves samurai and draw their swords against the Emperor?

How can you call yourself samurai, said a small voice in Ujiaki's soul, when you obey the dark god that devoured the Emperor's soul?

The old Lion drove his fist into the stone again, scowling in indecision. How could a man be forced to make this choice? Had he already failed in his vows by allowing it to come to this? Had Tsuko's path been the correct one? Was there no option for a true samurai other than death?

For a true samurai, the voice said, death is always the only option. The only true choice is how one meets it. Will you meet your death with honor, Ikoma Ujiaki?

The other assembled Lion looked to Ujiaki, waiting for his decision. They, like him, had remained here, loyal to the Emperor. They, like him, were filled with doubt after the horrors they had seen. They looked to him for his decision. He looked down upon the armies again.

The truth was obvious.

The Emperor defined all things. If Hantei had truly fallen, truly been devoured by the Dark God, then what difference did it make? The Empire was doomed. There could be no future. All that remained was to give his life as best he could. He studied the enemy carefully, searching for the strongest point. There - the berserker legions of the Crab, led by Hida Kisada. They outnumbered his own Lion forces twenty to one and fought with a savagery unlike any he had ever seen. Against such a foe, there could be no survival.

Ujiaki drew his weathered old battle fan, and pointed it at the heart of Kisada's legions, giving the order to attack. As he did so, the world faded around him. His memory returned, and he realized he was long dead. The Legion of the Dead now battled in the Realm of Thwarted Destiny and he stood among them.

Since the Day of Thunder, Ujiaki's soul had been tormented by his actions on that day. The Empire had survived. The Emperor had truly been devoured by darkness. Had he erred in throwing away the lives of his men and himself so recklessly? Or was this twisted place a harbinger of things to come? Was Toturi's so-called dynasty merely a perverse epilogue before the true end of all that was? He had joined the Legion seeking an answer, but had found nothing.

All his life, Ujiaki had relied upon the Emperor to justify his decisions. It was ironic, now that he found himself numbered among the honored ancestors, he could only rely upon himself.

Through the mists to his right, he could hear the clank of armor and the mumbled buzz familiar with preparation for battle. The Legion of the Dead gathered and prepared themselves once more.

Through the mists to his left, he saw deep shadow and nothingness. He felt that he might step into the mists, allow them to claim him, and be no more. There would be no more doubt, no more indecision, no more failure. Ujiaki looked down at the fan in his hand. The roaring symbol of the proud Lion gazed back up at him.

Snapping the fan shut and tucking it into his obi, he turned to the right and rejoined the Legion of the Dead.

Legions - Destinies
Kuni Utagu

The young Crab stood at the top of a stunted tower, looking out at the devastated wastelands. He could see platoons of Crab soldiers moving about on the plains below, swift scouts and ferocious berserkers. Each group was accompanied by at least one shugenja in dark robes bearing the symbol of his family – the Kuni. Beyond the Crab patrols, toward the distant horizon, the earth became darker and more twisted. Strange, scuttling things moved between the scraggly trees. Massive shapes lumbered in the smoky darkness.

“You can feel it?” said the dry voice of his teacher, Atsutane.

“It feels as if the land is watching me,” Utagu said in a timid voice.

“It is indeed,” Atsutane replied. “The Shadowlands is a living thing, and it lives to serve the will of its dark god. It will do worse than kill you. It will devour your soul, consume it, turn all that you were into a weapon against the Empire the instant you show weakness.”

“But the Crab stand against it,” Utagu said, looking down at the soldiers below. “We always stand against it.”

“That we do,” Atsutane replies, “but you are to be tsukai sagasu – a witch hunter. Do you know the difference between us and the rest of our clan?”

Utagu looked at his master curiously and shook his head.

“When we face the evil of the Shadowlands… we must face it alone,” Atsutane replied.

Utagu's eyes widened in fear. He looked back at the southwestern horizon. He could swear he felt a sense of amused anticipation from the blasted plains.

“If you are afraid, you should leave, boy,” Atsutane said. “I have no time for a student who is not dedicated. There is no true shame in admitting weakness, only a greater shame in failing due to presumed strength.”

Utagu's eyes narrowed. “No,” he whispered. “I cannot leave now. If I leave, the darkness will have won.”

“Are you certain?” Atsutane replied. “You did hesitate. If you are uncertain, know that I would willingly recommend one with your talents to one of the more traditional Kuni schools.”

Utagu grinned. “I have made my choice, shadow, that is how this game works. The game is done. Do not attempt to dissuade me by acting out of character.”

With that, the castle faded and the Realm of Thwarted Destiny returned. Where Kuni Atsutane had stood, the swirling image of the Shadow Dragon now hovered before the spirit of Kuni Utagu.

“Surely you are not surprised that a Kuni Witch Hunter saw through the shadows this realm has to offer,” Utagu said, hand clasping the jade amulet hanging around his neck.

“Not truly, no,” the Shadow Dragon replied. “You performed quite admirably.”

Utagu fell into a martial stance. The amulet began to glow in his hand, its light shining through his flesh, outlining the bone.

“What is this?” the Shadow Dragon asked, voice tinged with amusement. It circled the Witch Hunter, staring down at him with curious unblinking eyes. “Do you intend to fight me, Witch Hunter? Do you even know where to begin?”

“I do not intend to let you destroy me, creature,” Utagu hissed.

The Shadow Dragon chuckled. “And why would I do that, Utagu-san?” it asked as it faded into nothing. “This game, as you called it, is nearly done. And you have already helped me so much…”

Legions - Destinies
Akuma no Oni

The great Oni Lord writhed in the mists, his mind consumed with visions of victory. He saw his daughter, Okura, crushed beneath his scaled foot, then rebuilt in his image. Her loyalty was his to command, as was her vast power. With her at his side at the vanguard of Fu Leng's armies, the dark army overwhelmed Tengoku's defenders. The Gates of Heaven fell, and the forces of darkness cast the heavens down into shadow. Fortunes and Dragons alike fell before Akuma, unable to stop his ever-growing power. And then, the most delicious prize. With Tengoku destroyed, Fu Leng unleashed his minions upon the mortal realm. The Lion Clan was given to Akuma to torment at his leisure. A thousand years of pain and darkness became reality.

“Isn't it marvelous?” a voice whispered in his mind. “It could be yours. Is this not what you deserve?”

“A wonderful vision,” the hideous demon said, his voice surprisingly clear through a mouth covered with jagged fangs and a trio of snaking tongues. “It is not real.”

There was a brief pause. “Does it matter whether this vision is real or not? This realm is a place of boundless potential. The force of your destiny, your true destiny, fulfilled would thwart the fates of countless heroes. In a way, you would truly have fulfilled your potential as greatest of the Oni Lords. How can your will be unequal to the task?”

“My will is unequaled,” Akuma snarled. He reached out and found the source of the voice, wrenching it from its place of concealment and forcing it to appear before him. The shadows darkened and coalesced into a serpentine form. “I know you,” he said. “You are the champion of Nothing, heir of the Lying Darkness.”

“I am,” the dragon confessed, slipping easily out of Akuma's grasp.

“You no longer serve Fu Leng,” Akuma said with a sinister edge. His clawed hands clasped into fists, preparing for battle.

“You would fight me?” the Lying Darkness replied in a mocking voice. “You do not know the extent of my power, mighty Oni Lord.”

One of Akuma's three burning eyes focused on the mists just beyond the Shadow Dragon. The sound of one massive foot falling upon the ground resounded on the plains, followed by another. The massive form of Yakamo no Oni resolved itself. He looked to Akuma, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of mutual respect, then turned to face the Shadow Dragon. The Dragon moved to one side, cautiously watching the two Oni Lords.

“Consider what you would do, demons,” the dragon asked, coiling and uncoiling repeatedly. “If this realm were to become a bleak and hopeless place would that not please Fu Leng? Would your master have any less? Or would he prefer the Legion of the Dead emerge victorious and warp it into another of their false idyllic worlds?”

Akuma's eyes narrowed. “Your ends are true, but your motivation is false.”

“You would restore the Lying Darkness,” Yakamo added. “The power you serve would challenge even Fu Leng. That we cannot abide.”

“Shortsighted demons,” the dragon hissed, “Once we have mastered this realm we can use its boundless potential however we desire. You wish to see a reality where Okura would serve you again? It can be so. Do you wish to cast down Lord Sun and feed upon his name? Simple enough, if you are equal to the task.”

“You wish us to trust you?” Yakamo asked, moving slowly toward the dragon. “We know your kind. Do you believe an Oni Lord would be so foolish as to believe you?”

The Shadow Dragon smiled.

“Whatever you planned, it is finished now,” Akuma said, a black fire rising from deep within his body and illuminating his form. “It is time to see if you can die, dragon.”

“No, Akuma,” the Shadow Dragon replied. “Not yet.”

With that a hideous roar shook the plains of Thwarted Destiny. An impossibly huge shape erupted from the mists, striking down Akuma and Yakamo with its meaty fists. The First Oni threw back its head and screamed a bloodcurdling scream as it launched itself into battle with its fellow Oni Lords.

And the Shadow Dragon simply faded away.

Legions - Destinies
Doji Satsume

The commanding voice of Matsu Goemon resounded across the misty plains, rallying the Legion of the Dead. The familiar buzz of soldiers readying themselves for battle was all around, underscored by the chant of shugenja as they searched for souls still lost to the Spirit Realm's visions.

One soul in particular did not join in the preparations. Though he heard Goemon's words, he did not truly pay attention to them. He sat alone at the edge of the camp, pale blue eyes staring vacantly into the darkness.

“Satsume-sama?” said a quiet voice.

The old samurai turned, and for a moment his surly expression was replaced by a look of wonder. A young woman stood before him, long dark hair spilling over one shoulder. Her face was familiar to him. “Teinko?” he whispered.

The girl looked back at him, puzzled. Satsume recognized who she truly was. No, this was not Teinko though the resemblance was there.

“I… am sorry,” Satsume said. “For a moment, I thought you were my wife.”

“The others are worried for you, Satsume-sama,” the girl said. “They sent me to see if you are all right.”

“Fine,” he said gruffly. After a long moment, he added, “No… That is not entirely true. I am not well at all.”

The girl sat beside him, looking up patiently.

“Each of us has faced a vision of his life, a turning point where we could have made some great difference,” Satsume said. “One might think perhaps that mine might have been the day I became Emerald Champion, the day I assumed leadership of my clan, or even the Scorpion Clan Coup, when I failed to protect my Emperor… it was none of these things.”

“What was it?” she asked.

“The day my wife died,” Satsume said. “I could have stopped her… I could have saved her… I saw all the signs, but my duty was too important. If she intended to be so weak, why should I save her?” Satsume buried his face in her hands. “I drove Teinko to her death, because I could not be pulled from my duty even for a moment but what purpose does duty serve when all that we love dies?”

“We are all dead now, Satsume,” the girl said. “Surely you have seen your wife since that day?”

Satsume's scarred face twisted in a bitter smirk. “Teinko was a dishonorable suicide,” he said, “Though I did what I could to conceal the truth from my clan, the Celestial Order is not so easy to fool. Her soul is lost in the bleak fields of Meido… I can sense her there even now… I could find her, If I wished…”

“The Realm of Waiting,” the girl said. “She must be in the court of Emma-O, or the Lords of the Dead, awaiting reincarnation after her punishment.”

“Punishment?” Satsume replied. “I am the one who deserves punishment!”

“Then perhaps we can yet make amends,” the girl said. “The Legion's shugenja have found great difficulty in leaving this Spirit Realm, but my family knows more about the Spirit Realms than most. Your connection to your wife is still very strong. Perhaps, with my magic, I could help you find her.”

Satsume looked at the girl for a long time. His face was etched with the distrust that had ruled him throughout his life, but after a few moments that was washed away by regret.

“I appreciate any help you can offer, Lady Ryosei,” Satsume said.

Legions - Destinies
Bayushi Shoju

“You seem greatly troubled this night, Shoju-san,” the Emperor said with a concerned smile. “It is most unlike you. What troubles you so, my friend? Speak it, and I will do what I can to ease your concerns.”

Beneath his mask, Bayushi Shoju licked his lips anxiously. All was as it should be. His men were in position. The first strikes against certain targets had already been dealt. It was too late to back out now, but in every way that truly mattered the coup would not begin until he confronted the Emperor. “I have found an ancient prophecy,” he said gravely. “It says the greatest among us will cause the Empire to fall, and release an ancient evil into the world. I desire your blessing, my lord, that I may take every action necessary to avoid this sinister fate.”

“You have it,” the Emperor said at once. “But who is greater than you, my trusted friend? Who could command such power to instill this shadow of doubt I see in your eyes?”

The Bloodsword, Yashin, hung at Shoju's side, concealed from the Emperor's eyes by the same enchantments that gave it power. For a single moment of clarity, the whispering siren song of the sword faded from his mind. He was about to commit an act that would damn him forever, an act from which there could never be forgiveness or escape. Could he commit such blasphemy? Such heresy? Could he kill this old man, who had always been a friend and ally? Was there no other way to deny the inevitable? Shoju debated abandoning his plans at that moment. Without his signal, the coup would never begin. Those few agents who had acted in advance could be sacrificed, publicly declared traitors but privately recognized for their loyalty to the Master of Secrets. They would never betray his plans, no matter what torture they might endure. It could all end, here and now.

When Shoju had become Champion, he had sworn an oath before his ancestors. The shugenja had asked him the same question that had been asked at such ceremonies throughout history: as Champion, would he protect the Emperor and Rokugan from any and every threat, regardless of its source or the consequences he might face?

He had said he would. He had sworn on his ancestors' names. There was no choice to be made here. His course was clear.

“Well?” the Emperor prompted him, his regal features now reflecting a rare moment of true concern. “What enemy could strike such doubt into the Master of Secrets?”

Shoju drew the Bloodsword. “Only you, my lord,” he whispered, tears coursing down his cheeks even as Yashin's whispers returned to him. “Only you.”

Shoju closed his eyes as he drove the sword into his best friend's heart. He could not bear to watch the Emperor die.

When he opened his eyes again, both the Bloodsword and the Palace were gone. Bayushi Shoju stood on a ridge overlooking a sea of nothingness. There were no features, only empty plains and roiling mists. Yet beneath it, he could sense the potential that lay in wait, hungry for definition and purpose. And he could sense other things as well, a familiar presence that he had sensed in the caves below Kyuden Bayushi, on the first day he picked up Yashin.

“Others have surprised me by sensing my presence,” said a sinuous voice. “You do not.” The Shadow Dragon appeared from nothing, snaking through the air in a wide circle around Shoju. No, this was not what he had sensed beneath Kyuden Bayushi, though it was fueled by the same power.

“I sense your hunger,” Shoju replied. “It is as strong as my own, though not as strong as that of this place.” He gestured to the fields. “Have you come to bargain my loyalty, Dragon of Air? Perhaps hope that I will betray the Legion to you as I betrayed my Emperor?”

“I considered it,” the Shadow Dragon said with a laugh, “but I think that you are better than that, Emperor Shoju.”

“Do not call me that,” Shoju hissed. “I never deserved that title.”

“Do you think it pains me any less to hear you call me the Air Dragon?” the Shadow Dragon replied, its voice now seething with anger. “Do you have any idea, any conception, any brief spark of inkling within that pathetic scrap of ether you call a soul exactly what it means to have possessed such a name and lost it? I think it is obvious that you do not!”

“Very well,” Shoju said, bowing his head slightly, “Shadow Dragon.”

The Shadow Dragon returned the gesture. “Truth be told, I came out of curiosity,” it said. “Despite that you are a traitor and a failure, you are yet a legend among mortals... and had you not acted as you did, had you not sacrificed yourself, perhaps things would have been even worse than they were. You remind me of myself, Bayushi Shoju. Of all the souls here, I interfered with your choice the least. I wished to see if you would make the same choice twice. I am pleased to see that you have done so. It makes my own task easier.”

“What task is that, dragon?” the Master of Secrets asked.

But the Shadow Dragon was already gone.

Legions - Destinies
Doji Yosai

Yosai felt a dull itch in his left knee as Bakin helped him onto his horse. He absently reached down to scratch it but his hand touched only the lacquered wood of the saddle. It had been almost a year since he had lost his leg, but he still had not adjusted to its absence. Memories of the Crab invasion of the city flooded through him. It was a day much like today. He had awakened to the smell of smoke and the shouts of dying samurai.

“Yosai-sama?” his servant asked in a worried voice. “You must hurry!”

“Why?” Yosai replied in a distant voice.

“The Emperor's servants ravage the city,” his servant replied. “You must flee, before they find you!”

“That is not what I mean, Bakin,” Yosai answered. He covered his mouth as a wet cough made his shoulders heave. Ever since the day he had lost his leg, his health had slowly worsened. “When the Crab soldiers took my leg, they left me alive. What Fortune drove them to spare me, and why?”

“Worry about that later, my lord,” the frantic servant replied.

Yosai looked toward the western wall of the city. Over the rolling hills he could see the army of the Seven Thunders marching on the Imperial City.

“I fought for this city once,” Yosai said. He looked down at the stump of his left leg. “The Fortunes punished me for my ignorance. It was not long after that I realized how wicked the Emperor was… though until today I did not realize the entire truth.”

“And that is why you must flee, my lord!” Bakin said, glancing around desperately. “The Hantei will remember how you spoke against him in the court. His servants will come for you! If you hurry, the east wall is only lightly guarded. You can still escape.”

Yosai scowled, tightening the reins in his hand. “You are right,” he said bitterly. “I am no longer a warrior. I cannot fight. I am just a shadow.”

Bakin looked up at him with a pained expression. “No, my lord,” he replied. “You are a samurai, but this battle is too much for you.”

“Because I am a cripple,” Yosai replied, “a crippled samurai from a dead clan.” Yosai continued to stare blankly into the distance even as Bakin secured the straps holding him to the saddle.

“You do not know that, my lord,” Bakin said. “Shinden Asahina still stands.”

“But the other houses lie in ashes,” Yosai answered. “What is left of the Crane? After all that we have lost, how can we fight?”

As the sun rose above the castle walls he saw a golden light pass over the approaching armies. He could see the banner of his lord, Doji Hoturi, flapping proudly above a legion of Crane samurai.

A smile spread across Doji Yosai's scarred face. His servant looked up with concern, unused to seeing such an expression on the Crane's face.

“Now I know,” Yosai said. “Know I know why the Fortunes spared me.”

“My lord?” Bakin said.

“Bakin, can you escape the city safely?” he asked.

“I believe so, my lord,” he answered. “The Emperor's soldiers will not care about a simple servant.”

“Then do me one last service before I go,” Yosai whispered.

“Anything, my lord.”

Yosai's katana sang as he drew it from its saya. He wheeled his horse about, turning toward the west wall. “If the Empire survives this day, tell your grandchildren how the sons of Doji die.”

“I will my lord,” Bakin said.

Yosai kicked his horse into a gallop, charging toward the battle rather than the safe escape his servant had offered. Even as he charged, the scene shifted around him. He found himself galloping among the Legion of the Dead. Ahead, swarming across the plains of Thwarted Destiny, marched the lost souls of the Legion of Blood. His lost leg and health had been restored to him once more.

With a fierce cry, Doji Yosai held his sword high and galloped onward.

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