“Kaoru, attack when ready,” Hida Otoya commanded. He tapped the base of his fan on the palm of his hand. The sound reverberated around the silent room, and the students tensed in anticipation.

Hida Hiyao stood with a relaxed posture. He held his bokken, a wooden training sword, loosely in his right hand, the tip of the weapon dragging listlessly on the ground. Surrounded by dozens of young samurai just after their gempukku, Hiyao looked out of place on the dojo floor. He was a veteran of countless battles on the wall and several wars, while the others in the dojo had rarely seen combat. Several scars showed on his skin, paying testament to his devotion to the Crab. The others were unmarred by battle, though in service to the Crab, that would soon change for many of them.

His opponent, Hida Kaoru, stared fixated at Hiyao. She held the bokken firmly in both hands and pointed it at the veteran. Unlike her classmates, who might have smiled ferociously or looked eager at the chance for battle, Kaoru displayed no trace of emotion. The only feeling her face betrayed was alertness. Her eyes shifted constantly, taking in her opponent and analyzing the situation. The odds were stacked against her, she knew; Hiyao had years of experience over her and was much larger physically. In this training exercise, she knew that no one expected her to win, simply to perform well.

Such an opinion, Kaoru thought briefly, was not befitting a Crab.

Without a sound she leapt into action. The tip of her bokken slid toward the roof and quickly descended toward Hiyao’s head. Hiyao reacted quickly and dodged to the right. He swung sideways and connected with Kaoru’s ribs with a resounding crack. She crashed onto the floor. Immediately, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her weapon. Hiyao waited at a distance, his bokken loose at his side once more.

“A traditional cut,” Otoya said with a disapproving smirk. “An established attack. That is why it is the wrong choice. Your opponent has studied it, practiced it, and most importantly, countered it all of his life. Try again.”

Kaoru slowly began to circle Hiyao, and he turned in place to watch her movements. As he watched the young girl move around her, he was struck with a sudden, inexplicable chill. He shook his head. He was not on the Wall; he was not facing the myriad of demons and dangers that spawned from the depths of the Shadowlands every day. Then why, suddenly, did he feel like he was in danger?

In the split moment of his hesitation, Kaoru began her attack. She struck at Hiyao’s leg with all the force her body could muster. Though he was caught off guard, Hiyao was not defenseless. He thrust his bokken down to protect himself and caught the brunt of the blow on his weapon. He immediately went on the offensive and struck at her head. She blocked his blade with her own.

Kaoru’s blade snapped under the force of the impact. It shattered and the pieces flew in all directions. One of the jagged wooden shards flew through the air and stabbed deeply into Kaoru’s leg. Hiyao instinctively raised his forearm to protect his eyes.

Kaoru did not pause. She leapt forward and slammed her body into his, barreling into him with all her weight. Hiyao let out a loud grunt and fell to the floor. Before he could react, she clawed at his hands with reckless abandon. Hiyao refused to release his hold on his blade, and the two struggled on the floor like wild animals without a care for the circumstances around them.

Otoya clapped his hands loudly once, and the pair froze. They disengaged from each other and got to their feet. Kaoru limped slightly from her wound but struggled to hide any sign of pain on her face.

“A surprising move, to say the least.” Otoya said. The sensei turned to Hiyao. “You did not expect that?”

Hiyao shook his head. “She was wounded and unarmed in a kenjutsu practice. Her attack was uncalled for, and took me by surprise.”

“What do you say to that, Kaoru?” Otoya asked.

Kaoru lifted her head higher in defiance. “I say that it does not matter what weapon I have in my hands. It is simply a tool. When combat begins, even if it is a mockery, one must continue to fight until the enemy falls.”

Otoya looked at Kaoru. Though he would not admit it out loud, he was impressed at the young woman’s will. Even now, she stared back at him with fire in her eyes, refusing to back down from her position.

“That attitude will keep you alive,” Otoya finally said, “but it does not fit the dojo. Next time, stick to the exercise at hand.”

She bowed in acquiescence. He pointed his fan at her. “Report your wound at once. The Crab Clan has little use for cripples. Dismissed.”

In the rare occasions when he doubted the righteousness of his cause, he only had to look up. The awe inspiring sight of the Heavens’ support raised his morale and his spirits. Each time he looked up, he swore to himself anew to strive to follow the Council’s commands in everything. The Masters knew what was best. The blessings of Heaven could not be denied.

Rae deftly moved through the city, ignoring the sights and smells that had been so alien to him only a few months in the past. Now they were commonplace, and Rae felt a bit of pride in being a worldly man. He glanced at the samurai passing by him. He knew all of them would be envious if they knew how important he was. He carried a sealed scroll from the Elemental Council itself, the Elemental Masters that now held court in the Imperial City in the absence of the Emperor. Few could claim that they had ever seen a meeting of the Masters, much less aid the Council’s works.

Rae made a quick turn behind a stand of dumplings and headed down a side street. He had learned the shortcuts long ago and this particular street was usually empty. Today the street was already occupied by a pair of people that struck Rae as an odd duo. A merchant and a Scorpion samurai stood by the side of the road; though the merchant was not armed, he seemed fearless in his pestering of the samurai.

“But my lord, you have not yet paid for the shipments,” the merchant insisted. “You accepted the goods with the promise of payment. It has been several months overdue. You must pay me or I will be out of a business.”

The Scorpion turned as if the merchant had never spoken. He casually strode away without hesitation.

“My lord,” the merchant said, “you must pay me what is due or I will be forced to contact the local magistrates about the matter!”

The Scorpion stopped and turned around abruptly. The merchant twitched in surprise as the samurai quickly stalked up to the man. The Scorpion loomed in close to the merchant. The corners of his mouth slowly moved upwards in a menacing smile. “Is that so?” he asked quietly. “I am a samurai and you are nothing.”

The sound of Rae’s weapon leaving its saya was unmistakable. The Scorpion paused and turned to face Rae.

“This is not your business, Phoenix,” the Scorpion said. A mocking grin plastered onto his face. “It is a matter between this filth and me. If you have any wits upon you at all, you would keep moving.”

“I do not react well to threats, Scorpion-san,” Rae responded. “Your matter became my matter when you disrupted the peace of the Imperial City. Pay the man before I am forced to show you the error of your ways.”

The Scorpion’s posture shifted as he read the anger that emanated from Rae. Rae itched for an opportunity to show the villain his own entrails. Only the peace enforced by the Council stayed his hand. The Scorpion seemed to recognize the danger in the Phoenix. He reached inside his kimono and withdrew a small bag. He threw it at the merchant’s feet. Before he disappeared around the corner, he turned and stared at Rae.

Rae knew he had gained another enemy that day.

“Thank you, my lord,” the merchant said and bowed deeply to Rae.

Rae nodded back and continued on his way. He spent the rest of the trip back to the palace of Shiba Naoya in quiet contemplation. The situation in the empire had degenerated to such despicable behavior. He arrived at the palace with no further interruptions. Rae suspected he knew where to find his lord and headed directly toward the sand garden in the middle of the palace. He was right; Shiba Naoya sat in the middle of the garden and stared out at the serene scene in front of him. Rae stepped closer and waited until he had Naoya’s attention.

“A message from the Council, my lord,” Rae said. He bowed and presented the sealed scroll to Naoya. Naoya nodded and took the offered scroll from Rae’s hands. Rae bowed again and turned to leave Naoya to his privacy.

“Stay, Rae-san,” Naoya said absentmindedly. “You will feel the blessings and suffer the problems from the message as I will. We are like brothers in this.”

Rae straightened his posture and swelled with pride. Naoya unfurled the scroll and read through. After a long moment, he looked up at the eager Phoenix.

“It seems the Council has decided that the Phoenix must assume responsibility for our actions,” Naoya said. “They do not presume to believe that they can hide behind the power of the Heavens. The Fire Dragon will return to Tengoku soon, and we will enforce peace on the Empire with our own strength.”

“I do not know what you mean, Tatsune-sama,” Otoya replied.

Tatsune waved his hand toward his companion. “Do not play games, Otoya. You wear a perpetual scowl on your face. Today your expression could almost be described as content.”

“One of my students impressed me today,” Otoya said. “I find it enough cause to lighten my spirits. It does not happen often.”

Tatsune smiled. “I am glad to hear that. You are fitting in with our clan well. Your assistance with Lord Kisada’s plan was invaluable.”

Otoya snorted. “My advice concerning the Damned would have been more effective if I had been given the correct information. Changing the commander was detrimental to the strategies we worked out together.” Tatsune opened his mouth to speak, but Otoya raised his hand to interrupt. “I understand the situation you were placed in, Tatsune-sama. Though I came with Kaneka-sama’s recommendations, you had no experience to trust in my loyalties. You could not leave so much responsibility in the hands of a virtual stranger. I understand the situation, yet I deplore the degradation of resources that occurred because of the circumstances.”

Tatsune fell silent for several long moments. “Well put,” he said. “You have performed admirably in recent months. The students work harder for you than any other sensei. All of them grudgingly praise you, calling you a harsh yet fair teacher. I am impressed, Otoya. You have been a valued member of our Clan.”

Otoya silently bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“I have a new assignment that I believe will challenge your skills,” Tatsune said and stopped. Otoya looked up to find that their path had led to one of the large audience chambers inside the castle. Otoya opened the door and the pair stepped in.

All conversation in the room stopped as soon as the door opened and all heads turned to Otoya and Tatsune. Half a dozen Crab stood in the room, and Otoya instantly recognized some famous faces. Kuni Kiyoshi, the recently promoted Kuni family daimyo, stood against the wall in the back of the room. Hiruma Todori, Hiruma Family daimyo, stood in the middle of the group, hand raised in mid-conversation.

The only people that would have made the group any more illustrious, Otoya mused, would have been Hida Kisada and Hida Kuon.

“Greetings, Tatsune-sama. Kuon-sama is unable to attend the meeting,” said Todori. “We have little to settle without his presence.”

“Tell me of the Spider,” Tatsune cut in without preamble. The conversation stopped once more, in deference to the venerable daimyo. Kiyoshi stepped forward into the middle of the group.

“There is very little information we have been able to gather so far,” Kiyoshi said. “They appear and disappear with little trace. For now, it seems they have helped out the people. They defeat bandit gangs and the few Shadowlands creatures that spawn in the empire. Rumors link sightings of the Spider to the Mantis, the Unicorn, and even the Scorpion, but they are all baseless mutterings. Their influence must be growing faster than I thought if you have heard of their existence, Tatsune-sama. A few of my men follow their trail as we speak.”

“Are they any closer to finding out what they are?” Todori asked.

“Not yet,” Kiyoshi replied. “It is only inevitable. It is a simple nuisance that we will soon unravel.”

“I think it is not such a small matter, Kiyoshi. The Toritaka will assume this duty and find out the Spider’s secrets,” Tatsune announced.

Kiyoshi frowned. “You have no experience in what must be done, and the Kuni have centuries of knowledge on the matter. If it is a Shadowlands matter, it must be dealt with by the Kuni.”

“This ‘Spider’ might be a trick of the Shadowlands, that is true,” Tatsune replied. “But it is equally possible that they are not. Can you afford to lose valuable resources to track these rumors down?”

“We are capable of more than you give us credit for,” Kiyoshi said.

“You are men, the same as us, and you are a fool to reject a helping hand. The Toritaka inquisitors would work side by side with your men. We will simply focus on determining the truth behind these hazy mysteries.”

“Help?” Kiyoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Well intentions will do more harm than good if not coupled with wisdom. Where will your men gain such knowledge? You do not suggest that I should open the doors of the Kuni schools to all of your men?”

“My men know how to ferret out secrets. After all, they are trained as hunters of a sort, the same as your men.”

“The Toritaka hunt spirits, not men,” Kiyoshi retorted. “You will quickly find that dealing with other humans, in society, and in the real world, is infinitely more difficult. They will need to know how to organize together

“Funny that you should mention tactics,” Tatsune said. He turned to his side toward Otoya. “Do you have any experience in these matters, Otoya?”

Otoya furled his brow, his only reaction at being so abruptly thrust into the conversation. “It is of a different sort than I am accustomed to,” he said slowly. “Certainly I can help your men figure out how to combat a rapidly moving force. If we treat them as a bandit group...” Otoya trailed off and began to mutter to himself.

“Problem solved,” Tatsune said. His smile was quite feral. “And if all these words and reasons do not convince you, Kiyoshi-san... you’re no match for me in a drinking contest.”

Kiyoshi grimaced. “The other Clans will not view this meddling from the Toritaka favorably,” he warned. “They will not see the larger picture. They will only assume that we are attempting to increase our influence.”

Tatsune snorted. “Let them. Our inquisitors will do what must be done, and I will make sure they carry the correct papers.”

“Do not make light of the situation, Tatsune-san,” Kiyoshi insisted. “The other Clans, save for the Phoenix, vilify the Witch Hunters as unwelcome sights to their lands. The other Clans see only grim reminders of threats they cannot bear to face. When word of your actions spread, you will share the same fate.”

Tatsune shook his head. “Do not think I come to this decision easily, my friend. I know exactly what is at stake, both for my family’s name and the dangers they will face.” Tatsune looked around the room slowly, catching each person’s eyes with his gaze. “It is a duty that must be fulfilled. If we do not assume the mantle of responsibility, who will?

“We are the Crab. That is all that must be said.”

Naoya chuckled. “No one will forget the Fire Dragon any time soon, Rae,” he replied. “Its presence above the city was an extraordinary show of might for the celestial being. In all the scrolls of history, I have never heard of another event of its like. Believe me, the Fire Dragon has done enough.”

Rae nodded slowly. “You are wise, my lord.”

“When the Fire Dragon leaves,” Naoya said, “we must be prepared to back our words with steel. We will not be able to convince the other Clans with words alone.”

“The Shiba are ready to do our part, my lord,” Rae said. His hands clenched with anticipation. “No one will be able to doubt the sincerity of our actions. If we must fight and die to preserve the safety of the Empire, we will do it without hesitation.”

“You do not worry about the future, Rae?” Naoya asked.

Rae stared back at his lord, and Naoya marveled at the natural conviction burning in his eyes. “The Council is wise,” he said. “They will not lead the Empire astray. If the Shiba must suffer to secure the safety of Rokugan, it is a small price to pay. When all is said and done, my lord, no one will doubt our conviction.”