Fate of the Ruby
By Shawn Carman
Edited by Fred Wan

Long ago…
He could feel the Shadowlands gnawing away at him, lusting after his soul like some voracious scavenger, just waiting for him to fall. He would never give it the satisfaction. The young shugenja had managed to scavenge enough jade from his home province to last for several more days. After that… he did not know what would happen. He only knew that he could not turn back. He could not leave this place until he knew for certain, knew without question, that his father could not be returned to the Empire.

The days and nights blurred together in the Shadowlands. It was dark all the time, and when there were brief periods of light, it was usually when the sky turned some heinous color of green or purple or something else unnatural. He came to prefer the darkness in a very short period of time. He did not sleep, at least not really. There were times when he collapsed, and he never knew for certain how long he remained in such a state. The passage of time was measured only by how quickly the veins of black coursed through his fingers of jade. It was on his seventh day, more or less, when the young man inadvertently crossed paths with a pack of Lost samurai.

The shugenja was so exhausted that he barely realized what had happened until it was too late. He began to recite a prayer to the kami, forgetting what it could mean in this place, when one of the warriors darted forward with inhuman speed and kicked him in the face. He felt bones cracking, and knew he was about to die.

One of them stood over him, weapon held aloft. His face was bestial, with small tusks jutting upward from his lower jaw. “You should have stopped at the wall, pup!” he laughed.

“Wait,” one of the others said. The first warrior seemed angry, but moved away obediently. Another man, one clad in robes, stepped into the young man’s field of vision. “Let us see what use we can make of this one,” he said. He reached into his satchel and withdrew something. It was red, and glowed slightly. “My master’s treasure is said to have much more power when it holds a pure soul within it.” The robed man grinned broadly. “Prepare for an eternity of slavery, boy.”

The last thing the young man thought before the red wave of pain coursed over him was that life was bitterly ironic.

The Moto provinces
Moto Akikazu had completely emptied his chambers. For the past two days, he had done absolutely nothing but sit in the empty room and meditate upon the only object enclosed within its walls other than the simple mat upon which he sat. It was a ruby. Not just any ruby, but both the largest and most brilliant that he had ever seen. No one who had looked upon it had ever seen anything like it. Akikazu had recovered it from the Shadowlands when he had traveled there months ago, driven by a vision that had come to him in a dream. The dream, he had eventually learned, had been given to him by the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang, the gaijin death gods that the Moto worshiped, also called the Lords of Death. The Lords had told Akikazu that he was their chosen servant, the instrument of their will, and they had sent him to the Shadowlands to bring others to their banner. Akikazu knew that the ruby was somehow tied to that purpose, but he did not yet understand how, and his confusion had become more and more frustrating as time had passed with no progress.

When Akikazu first returned from the Shadowlands, his superiors had been quite pleased with him. The head of his order, Moto Tsusung, had taken word of Akikazu’s find to the great Khan himself, Moto Chagatai. The Khan had come to see the jewel, and while admittedly impressed, had quickly lost interest when Akikazu could not determine what its function was. Even Tsusung had seemed to lose interest after the general Moto Chen had returned from the Shadowlands with a greater prize, a strange kobune made of jade. Tsusung and his apprentice, Horiuchi Rikako, had taken to studying the kobune, and left Akikazu to plumb the ruby’s secrets by himself.

And plumb he had. Akikazu had spent weeks searching through historical records in search of something, anything, that might lead him to understand what the ruby meant. He had no success, and his anger had started to get the better of him. Finally, two days ago, he had decided that he would commit himself fully to the task. He had neither eaten nor slept since then, and though he could feel himself growing weaker by the hour, he would not falter. It would be weakness to falter.

As the day drug on, Akikazu’s meditation took on a feverish quality. He felt himself drift in and out of awareness, spending long stretches of time lost to a mental fog that completely enveloped him. In moments of clarity, he wondered if he would die. If he did, it did not matter. His lords would judge him if so, but at least they would know that he had not been fearful.

“Tsume.”

The voice echoed through Akikazu’s head with such strength, such overwhelming presence, that he had to struggle not to cry out, even in his weakened condition. The gray fugue receded for a moment, and then was replaced with a more recognizable fog and nearly featureless, empty landscape. Akikazu knew at once that his spirit had reached Meido, the Realm of Waiting, where his lords held sway. “Tsume,” the voice boomed again.

“Yes, masters,” he replied. Tsume was the name the Lords of Death called him, insistent as they were that he was the reincarnation of Moto Tsume.

“Why have you come among us?” another of the Lords asked.

“It was not by intent,” he answered. “I was meditating upon the ruby.”

“You forsook yourself to such an extent that your spirit is slipping away,” a third voice said. “Your flesh perishes even as we speak. Why have you done this?”

“I failed to unlock the ruby’s meaning,” Akikazu said. “I vowed that I would do nothing else until I reached understanding.”

“Your tenacity is impressive,” one of the Lords said. “We commend you, but your foolishness will cost us a servant. That is unacceptable.”

“You set before me a task I could not achieve,” Akikazu said. “I would rather perish than live in failure.”

“You will live, but not in failure,” a Lord said.

“You have achieved your purpose,” said another. “The ruby cannot be overcome save by honorable, noble sacrifice, which you have just committed in giving your life to free the spirit trapped within it.”

“I… I succeeded?” Akikazu asked.

“Indeed,” one replied. “But we will gain nothing if we lose one servant to accept another. Return to your flesh, Akikazu.”

“Aki… thank you, my lords,” Akikazu said. It was the first time the Lords had ever referred to him by his name.

Akikazu came to his senses slowly, becoming aware as he did that the room was filled with a vibrant thrumming and brilliant red glow. He struggled to his feet, nearly stumbling from fatigue. As he did, he realized that there was something swirling among the crimson energies cascading throughout the room. Were they kami? They darted to and fro as if they were of the wind itself, but more and more appeared, and they began to join together. Finally, there was but one remaining, and it slowly took the shape of a man.

And then, all at once, it was over. The ruby was gone. The light and sounds were gone. There was only Akikazu and another man, curled into a ball in the floor where the ruby had been only moments before. Tentatively, Akikazu stepped forward. “Can you hear me?” he asked. Seeing no response, he cautiously reached forward and touched the man lightly on the shoulder.

The young man leapt up at once, the red kimono that covered him bearing both the Unicorn mon and that of the Iuchi family. Akikazu had never seen the familiar patterns in red, however. “What is this place?” the man nearly shouted. “Where am I?”

“You are in a temple in the Moto provinces,” Akikazu said. “I have… I believe you just emerged from a large ruby that I discovered in the Shadowlands.”

“The ruby!” the man hissed. “Where is it?”

“Gone,” Akikazu said. “It appears to have been consumed by the energies released when you emerged.”

“Gone,” the man repeated. “Gone. It’s gone. Gone.”

“Are you well?” Akikazu asked carefully, mentally checking for the weight of the dagger tucked into the back of his obi.

The man laughed roughly. “I have no idea,” he said. “What is the date?”

“It is the month of the Tiger, in the year 1168.”

“1168,” the man croaked. “So long.”

“Who are you?” Akikazu said. “How did you come to be within the ruby?”

“I went into the Shadowlands in search of my father,” the man answered. “He was lost in battle against the traitor Kuni Yori. I believed that I could find him, that I could free him and return him to the Empire. I was foolish, I suppose, but I could not abandon him.”

“Your father?”

“Iuchi Karasu,” the man said.

“The Doomseeker?” Akikazu said, his tone surprised. “You are the Doomseeker’s son?”

“I am Iuchi Ietsuna,” the man replied. “I have spent far too many years within that accursed ruby, and I remember every moment of it.”

“How long?” Akikazu asked.

Ietsuna frowned. “I was born only weeks before my father’s death. He had been away for months, and my mother believed he did not even know that I existed. I took my gempukku ceremony at the age of sixteen years, and set out for the Shadowlands at once. I suppose, then, that I have spent twenty years locked within the ruby.”

Akikazu shook his head. “You look no more than twenty.”

“I feel three times that,” Ietsuna replied. “But tell me how I came to be free.”

“I was led to your prison by the Lords of Death. They bade me find you and bring you home, because you would be among their greatest servants.”

Ietsuna frowned. “Lords of Death?”

“They are not so sinister as they sound,” Akikazu assured him. “Or at least, they are not corrupt. They have been recognized as part of the Celestial Order, and rule in Meido alongside Emma-O, the Fortune of Death.”

Ietsuna nodded. Akikazu could see flecks of the same crimson color as his kimono in the young man’s eyes, and wondered what effect two decades imprisoned within the ruby would have on him. “Tell me more of your Lords,” Ietsuna asked.

“There is much to tell,” Akikazu said.

“I wish to hear it all,” Ietsuna said. “If they could free me, perhaps they could lead me to my father.”

Snowfall
By Brian Yoon
Edited by Fred Wan

Akodo Bakin stood at the edge of the forest and stared up at the clouded sky. It was snowing again. The heavy wind whistled in the air and the snow swirled everywhere. The hill in front of him was fully enveloped by white and the road that snaked around its foot was barely visible.

“Of course it would snow,” grumbled the newcomer. He reached up and took off the mempo from his helmet. He was a young and handsome man, his face unmarred by scars or other mementos from battle.

“We are on a mountain,” Bakin said without turning. “I hear this type of weather is to be expected.”

He grinned at the solemn commander. His smile was that of a man ready to single-handedly take on the world. He leaned against the tree next to Bakin and gestured toward the heavens. “The elements themselves move to challenge our plans. But ease your worries, my lord. You have nothing to fear.”

The young man’s cheer was infectious. Bakin sighed and shook his head. “Why is that, Sadahige-san?”

Sadahige bowed. “You have the likes of me to ensure your victory, Bakin-san.”

“What a wasted opportunity,” Bakin said. “There are no omoidasu here to hear you. They could learn a thing or two about bravado. Did you come to posture, Sadahige, or do you bring news from the other unit?”

“No, my lord. The Crane have arrived,” Sadahige said. He pointed his head behind him. “They await your presence in our camp.”

Bakin nodded and headed back through the trees. Sadahige replaced the mempo on his face and fell in line behind him. In a few moments Bakin entered the clearing where his men had set up an impromptu camp. Lion soldiers were scattered through the clearing. In the middle of the opening were a small group of Cranes. They stood in perfect formation as they waited, their blue armor gleaming in the light. A well-built, handsome man stepped forward and bowed to Bakin.

“Greetings, Bakin-san,” he said. “I am Daidoji Gempachi, gunso of the Crane army, under the command of Daidoji Yaichiro. I come with my superior’s compliments for your plan and his best wishes for the operation.”

Bakin bowed back. “Greetings, Gempachi-san. I trust you found your way safely through the Dragon lands,” Bakin said.

Gempachi nodded. “Your maps greatly eased our troubles. I was surprised at its accuracy. Your scouts proved even more skilled than we were led to believe.”

“The Lion are not without our resources,” Bakin said. “Come, would you walk with me?”

Gempachi nodded and the two commanders headed back toward the edge of the forest. Bakin led Gempachi back toward the very spot he had been only minutes prior. Together, they stared at the road snaking around the hill. Bakin pointed where the road began to snake around the foot of the hill, only three hundred paces from where they stood.

“The plan is simple,” Bakin said. “When the Dragon reach that spot, your archers will attack them. We will split my men into two groups. The larger group, led by Akodo Sadahige will move up the road to block the path if the Dragon decide to rush past us. I will lead the smaller group to guard your archers, in case they would prefer to take down the enemy. However, I predict they will be disoriented by this assault in friendly territory. They might attack, but they will not want to engage an unknown amount of enemies. They’ll try to retreat and minimize losses, and we will eliminate them.” He gestured to the snow flowing around them. “Can your archers overcome this hindrance?”

“I am glad none of my men heard that remark, Bakin-san,” Gempachi said with a grim smile. “Some Daidoji take great pride in their ability.”

“I meant no offense,” Bakin replied calmly.

Gempachi gracefully accepted his statement with a small wave and continued. “There are less of your men here than I expected, Bakin-san. I only count around seventy.”

“Our force is adequate to get the job done,” Bakin replied.

“If you would not mind my asking, Bakin-san, why are you and your men here deep in Dragon territory?”

“For the last few months, my men and I were stationed near the Phoenix lands. We were taking care of a bandit problem. Shigetoshi-sama called us back to help bolster the Dragon border. This is simply a detour on the way back.”

The two leaders stared at the falling snow for a long moment in silence. Finally, the Crane turned to the Lion. “They say an Akodo general has never lost a battle,” Gempachi said. “Let that legacy hold true today.”

“If your soldiers show the same discipline that you have displayed, we will have no problems.”

A faint smile crossed the Daidoji’s face. “Hai, Bakin-san.”

Without another word, they waited for the Dragons.

When the Dragon unit came into view a few hours later, Bakin and Gempachi spotted them at the same time. They watched as the Dragons marched closer to the ambush point. There were close to two hundred men, much more than Bakin had expected.

“Funny,” Gempachi said. “I would have expected to spot their scouts, first.”

“They are a unit of reserves, traveling on a road that is deep in Dragon territory,” Bakin whispered back. “We are nowhere near the frontlines. The error is commonly made by many Clans. Ready your men, Gempachi-san. It is time to shed blood once more.”

Gempachi nodded and raised his hand in the air. Leaves rustled behind them as the Crane soldiers stepped forward and strung their bows. The Dragon drew closer and closer, and yet the ambushers waited. When the Dragon had passed them, Bakin pointed his fan forward.

“Now!” he said, and rushed forward. The rest of the warriors moved behind him. The Lion samurai stepped forward to stand beside him and drew their blades. The Crane archers all stopped just inside the forest and pulled an arrow from the quivers. Gempachi lowered his hand and drew his own bow. He grabbed an arrow and in one fluid motion loosed the bolt into the air. The wind filled with twangs as thirty Cranes followed his example.

The Dragon had spotted the enemy as soon as Bakin had left the safety of the forest line. They began evasive maneuvers, yet it was already too late. The Cranes’ first volley landed midst their formation, perfectly on target, and Dragons began to die. The Dragon commander began to call something out to the rest of his men, and they began to move. The Daidoji loosed their second wave of arrows, and were already reaching for the fourth. Bakin twisted his fan to the left and flicked his hand. The drum behind him began to call out a constant rumble.

Around the hill, an answering drumbeat echoed in the air. Bakin spotted the banners of the Lion from further down the road. Sadahige and his men began to march toward the Dragon in a slow but inexorable pace.

The third wave of arrows launched toward the dragon, but the howling wind suddenly intensified. The wailing grew louder until Bakin could barely hear the drum of Sadahige’s unit. The swirling snow thickened in the air. The arrows hit the wall of air and snow and scattered away from their target.

“Bakin-san, they’ve neutralized our arrows!” Gempachi shouted. “They must have a Yamabushi with them.”

“Then we charge!” Bakin shouted. He drew his blade and raced forward toward the Dragons. From the corner of his eye, he could see the Daidoji dropping their bows and grabbing the yari they had placed on the floor. The Lions around Bakin screamed a ferocious war cry. An answering shout rose from Sadahige’s men, and they began to run the rest of the distance to their enemy.

The Dragon commander seemed to quickly assess the situation. He shouted out an unintelligible order to his men, and they began to retreat away from the two assaults. Cut off from the front and the rear, the Dragons began to run up the hill.

Bakin turned behind him and raised his katana in the air. His drummer, still waiting behind the line of trees, altered his tempo.

Banners suddenly crested the hill, and a larger force of Lions appeared at the top. The Lions charged down.

Caught on three sides, the Dragons barely had a chance.

Gempachi brushed the snow off his helm and turned in the direction his soldier was pointing. Bakin was walking by them, deep in conversation with a Lion Gempachi had never seen before. He had seen the unknown Lion at the head of the third unit, and even from a distance Gempachi could sense the deadliness of the man. Shaking off his unease, he walked toward Bakin. When he drew close, Bakin’s companion directed the commander’s attention to Gempachi.

“You planned that from the beginning,” Gempachi said without preamble.

Bakin nodded. “I held some men in reserve, in case the Dragons had any surprises in store for us.”

“We took five hostages and killed more than a hundred bushi. We even disabled a Dragon shugenja, and all at the cost of fifteen men and perhaps that number again wounded. This was a resounding victory,” the mystery man said, his voice barely audible against the wind.

“This, Gempachi-san, is Uchito, my second in command,” Bakin said. “He was invaluable to me in my campaign in the Phoenix lands.”

Gempachi bowed to the man but turned back to Bakin, undeterred. “Were the Crane simply a patsy to you? Did you not view me as your equal in this endeavor?”

“I apologize that I did not elaborate further on the plan. It was not borne from a dismissal of you or your men. It was a simple precaution I wanted against a spy among my ranks.” He smiled wryly. “In the past I have run into problems with spies.”

Gempachi frowned. He could sense there was truth behind Bakin’s words, and the pain was not quite hidden from Bakin’s eyes. “Apology accepted, Bakin-san. Your strategy worked, and victory absolves many issues.”

“Perhaps we can speak of more victories as we return to Lion lands,” Uchito said.

Finally, Gempachi smiled. “Perhaps more victories will serve as a good salve to my stinging pride. Lead on, Uchito-san.”

Command from the Throne
By Rusty Priske
Edited by Fred Wan

Toturi Kurako rapped impatiently on the tabletop. “You are telling me what I already know! Do not tell me that the Unicorn are coming and that the other clans are uneasy, tell me what to do to fix it!”

With the Empress looking away, Bayushi Kaukatsu frowned very slightly, but said nothing.

The Empress’ eyebrow shot up and she levelled her gaze at the Chancellor. “Did you have nothing to say?”

Kaukatsu bowed slightly. “With the greatest respect, my Empress, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not tell you that it would be better if such exclamations do not leave this chamber or extend past these ears.”

Kurako’s eyes flashed but she pushed her anger down. “I am aware of that, thank you. None of this is helping the immediate problem, however. Chagatai is still coming. It is also becoming clear that not all of the clans stand against him. And of the ones that do, it is not clear that they do so out of support for me, instead of their own machinations.”

The Chancellor nodded. “This is all true, milady. Steps need to be taken to remind the empire that the throne is already occupied and it is not a prize to be won.”

“Agreed. That is why I named Bayushi Norachai the Protector of the Imperial City at Winter Court.” She pursed her lips. “His actions have only polarized the clans even more.”

Kaukatsu nodded. “He believed that the troops would be sent without question. That would have been a tacit endorsement to your place to the throne.”

Kurako creased her brow. “An endorsement should not be needed. The throne is mine.”

Kaukatsu bowed deeply. “There is no question, in my eyes or anyone else who is loyal to the Steel Throne. In times of unrest, however, some will look elsewhere, if only to find someone who puts their interests before those of the Empire, as you would never do. These people are selfish and like most selfish men, they are ultimately cowards and would not dare speak against you if there was no upheaval. The more people we can remind that you are the rightful Empress, the less concern we will have from the disloyal minority.”

She nodded. “So, what can I do to remind the empire of my authority without giving them a reason to object? I could announce a new festival, but that hardly seems appropriate when the empire is at war.”

The Chancellor cocked his head. “Sometimes that is when the populace needs a festival most.”

Kurako shook her head. “No, I think something less out of touch with the empire around us. What if I was to appoint a new Emerald Champion?”

“No matter who you chose, any clan who wished could disagree with your choice. If they had already been leaning towards not recognizing your rightful place on the throne, this would merely strengthen their resolve.”

The Empress nodded. “True. I also wouldn’t want any such appointment to detract from the respect given to Hachi and the service he did for the Emperor.”

Kaukatsu thought for a moment and then one eyebrow shot up from behind his mask. “What if you were to offer some reward to a Minor Clan or one of the imperial families? If you chose one that does not have close ties to a great clan, you could enforce your position without elevating one Great Clan over another.”

Kurako thought for a moment. “That has merit. Not Emerald Champion, though. The Great Clans would not accept one from a Minor Clan readily. That would not suit our purposes.”

“So, another position then… and to whom? One of the Seppun or Otomo?”

“I do not think so. That is a bit too insular and would not appear more than keeping our own house in order. I think it needs to be a minor clan, and one that has proven its loyalty to the throne, repeatedly.”

All in the court turned and bowed at the announcement of her entrance. Some of the clans may have doubted her ability to lead, but none dared disrespect her court.

“Before we commence with the petitions and other court dealings, I wish to make an announcement and present someone new to court.” Kurako smiled as she spoke. “Toturi Kyoji, please step forward.”

The strong and stoic samurai came forward from the furthest recesses of the court. The expression on his face showed his nervousness and his pride. He approached the dais and prostrated himself in front of his Empress.

“Please, rise, Kyoji-san. I understand you have a visitor to this court in your retinue. Is Toku Haruka in the court today?”

“She is, my Empress.”

“Then, please, bring her forward.”

Toku’s eldest son rushed without running back across the court floor to where a young shugenja was waiting. Haruka was no more than eighteen and the red in her face was brighter than the subdued colors in her garb. The nerves in Kyoji’s face were present tenfold in Haruka’s. Kyoji ushered her back to the dais and, after a quick prompting from him, she prostrated herself, as he had.

After the Empress convinced her to stand, she waited with her eyes downcast at Kurako’s feet. “I understand this is your first time in court.”

“Yes, my Empress.” Her voice was quiet.

“Well, you are a lovely girl. I imagine you will fit in nicely if you choose to stay. What are your normal duties?”

“I am here to study at the local temples, my Empress.”

Kurako looked like she was mulling over this information, as if she was not already aware of it. “That is an important task. I am sure you would excel at it, as all of the Toku family have served the Toturi line well. You are not merely a Toku, however, is that correct?”

Haruka’s eyes shot up briefly, before she forced herself to look down again. “I was born into the Fuzake, my Empress. We serve the Toku.”

“Ah yes. As a vassal family, you would use the Toku name here in court. I prefer to use the name that better describes a person, however, so I shall call you Fuzake Haruka.”

Haruka nodded quickly, but the smile that had crept onto her face would not be hidden.

“I have need of a personal attendant. I need someone who could attend to me in ways that my usual guard cannot. You will fulfil that role, Fuzake Haruka.”

Haruka’s eyes shot up again and this time she was not quick to lower them. The shock on her face could be read across the room. “I would be honored, my Empress.”

“Yes. It would seem appropriate to repay your family in some way for losing you to my services.”

“No payment is necessary, my Empress!” Haruka spoke out of turn then, causing Kurako’s eyebrow to arch and her mouth to twist in an amused smile.

“I am aware of that. I am also aware that you will need some training in the proper way to behave in court.” Haruka’s face dropped and she appeared to wish to make herself as small as possible. “Nevertheless, your family will be rewarded. Toturi Kyoji?”

“Yes, my Empress?”

“I understand you are preparing to take on the role of head of the Monkey Clan. Is this correct?”

Kyoji bowed deeply. “I am. My mother wishes to retire her post and she is training me to perform those duties. That is why I am in court.”

Kurako nodded. “I thought as much. In that case, I think that your response will do, rather than awaiting word from your mother. Tell me, Kyoji-san, have the Fuzake served the Monkey well?”

“They have, Empress. The Fuzake have served nobly and are integral to the Monkey Clan.”

“In that case, I imagine you would not object if they were to join the Toku family within your clan, rather than maintaining their situation as a vassal.”

The red of Haruka’s face seemed to glow ever brighter as pride mixed with her embarrassment.

Kyoji smiled as he bowed. “We would have absolutely no objection, Empress. In fact, it is welcomed whole-heartedly as the Fuzuke have earned such an honor. Your wisdom is supreme, Majesty.”

Kurako allowed her self a small smile. “You can tell Inao that your time in court has done you well, Kyoji-san.” The Empress raised her voice just enough to give her next pronouncement the bearing of the official decree that it was. “From this moment forward, the Fuzake will cease to be a vassal family and will become a full family within the Monkey Clan. I am sure they will serve the clan with as much strength and enthusiasm as I expect Haruka to serve me.”