Re: L5R - Chasing the Winds - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Fic
Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2017 6:21 am
Okay, feel I just have to say this.
Tonight, someone dies.
----
Harun was silent more a long time, trying to find the words to express what had happened. He could feel his emotion rising, overcoming him. He took a long sip of tea and a few deep breaths.
“My apologies, sensei,” said Harun. “This part of what happened, it’s difficult to talk about. I’m not doing much credit to all the court training we were given.”
Kenshin nodded silently.
Harun cleared his throat, took another sip of tea and continued.
“We rode west for most of the day, following the river,” said Harun. “There were just the three of us, and a few guards.”
“Was there still threat from the Onyx?” Kenshin asked.
Harun shook his head. “Not really, but there weren’t not about to risk everything when we were so close.” He took another sip of tea. “The Unicorn had been making aids all winter, in preparation for pushing on further west in the spring. But it would all be for nothing if Majid and Zetsubou failed…”
They arrived at the place as the sun was setting, Harun could see the light fading across the endless plains. Harun stood there a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. At least, until Majid told him to stop dawdling and help set up the camp.
Between them and the guards there were four yurts. Two for the people and two for the horses Zetsubou helped them set them up before going down to river while Majid and Harun saw to the food. Rice as well as chicken skewers cooked over the fire with flatbread and hummus. When it was ready they all sat down sat around the fire, eating what they could which wasn’t much. The guards spoke, but for Majid, Harun and Zetsubou tension hanging over them was palpable and there was little talk.
When it too cold to remain outside, Harun and Zetsubou went into the yurt and Majid went to see to the horses. Harun pulled his cloak close around him, sitting close to the porcelain brazier next to Zetsubou who was deep in thought.
“Harun,” said Zetsubou at last, “I’ve wanted to tell you for some time how grateful I am to have you here.”
“Thank you, Zetsubou,” said Harun.
“I think you know by now how much danger we could be in,” said Zetsubou.
“Danger of failing?” Harun asked.
“No, I don’t think we will fail,” said Zetsubou, shaking his head. “The danger is to us, or rather to Majid and myself.” He looked at Harun. “It’s hard to explain, but you need to be ready to act.”
“To do what, Zetsubou?” Harun asked, a little worried.
“To kill me,” Zetsubou said quietly.
Harun looked at Zetsubou in shock. “Surely…”
“Harun,” said Zetsubou seriously, “Majid and I have discussed this many times once we knew what we needed to do. We aren’t talking about a blood sacrifice, this isn’t blood magic. But strange things do happen during powerful magic rituals. I might…not be myself, something might happen to me.” He looked at Harun solemnly. “I need you to promise me you will kill me before that happens…”
“Zetsubou—“
“Harun, promise me!”
Harun bowed his head. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Zetsubou with a nod. “There is one more thing that I need to say to you, in the event of my death—“
“Zetsubou!”
“In the event of my death,” Zetsubou repeated patiently, “I have prepared papers back in my tent for you to carry out. My instructions are clear. I also want you to go and see my brother, Akodo Kibo in Shiro sano Ken Haya in Lion Lands. He will need friends and I know it will help him to see you.”
Harun felt a little sick talking to Zetsubou about this, plans for his death. But a samurai must always be ready for his death.
“I promise,” Harun said. “What about your family?”
“Majid will see to that,” Zetsubou said quietly. “We have known each other for years, since the second seal. It will be better coming from him.”
Harun nodded gravely. “I hope that neither of us have to do any of this.”
“So do I,” said Zetsubou. “But as Akodo-no-kami said, we all must be ready for our deaths.”
The evening might have been pretty dour had Majid not returned then and livened things up. They passed around some sake, played shogi—Majid even gave Harun a quick lesson. Majid then got out a set of pipes and began to play, a lilting airy tune that was rather soothing.
Afterwards, when Majid was asleep. Harun and Zetsubou sat at the tent door watching the snow fall, they were rugged up warm and the porcelain heater was that their backs. Zetsubou was silent, pensive.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said after a long silence, “is it true that you are considering staying here in Unicorn lands? Perhaps becoming a Unicorn yourself?”
“It is, or rather was,” said Harun.
“Was? You have decided to leave?”
“Not exactly,” said Harun. He told Zetsubou the whole story, delicately skipping over the parts with Asuna and hoping that Zetsubou understood what he was implying.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said when he had finished. “Have I told you what you mother wanted out of her life? What drove her?”
Harun shook his head.
“There were many things,” Zetsubou said. “She wanted the happiness of a family that had been taken from her, wanted to return home, to the steppes of the Unicorn plains…but she gave all those up those after you were born for a different purpose, so that you and others could have those things…and others.” He looked at Harun. “Something tells me that you are looking for a purpose, is this true?”
Harun nodded.
“Have you found it yet?” Zetsubou asked, his lion eyes shining with understanding and kindness.
“No,” said Harun, “I am starting to wonder if I ever will.”
“Your purpose may end up finding you, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “And it may not be something that you like.”
Harun nodded, staying nothing, staring out at the snow.
They retired to bed after that, getting a few hours of sleep and then rising several hours before the dawn. Harun dressed warmly in his wool and fur cloak, Majid and Zetsubou in their shugenja robes. Zetsubou in yellow and brown, Majid in white with black void mons on his shoulders with the colourful beaded necklace and rings he always wore. He also painted his face white, with black on his mouth, cheeks and around his eyes.
The last time Harun saw Majid like this, it was before the attack on Shiro Moto.
We prepare out bodies for death, he had said at the time. He met Majid’s eyes, the Moto nodded seriously.
It was time.
They headed out of the camp and down to the river, the guards had been instructed to keep their distance.
The Firefly River was a ribbon of silver in the early morning twilight. Just beside it was a torii archway and in front of that, further up on the riverbank were a few stones piled high into a small column.
It’s a shrine, Harun realised, but he saw nothing to signify who it was to.
Majid went up to the stone platform and begun to lay out a few things while Zetsubou went down to the archway. Not sure what to do, Harun went over to Majid. The Moto was laying out spell scrolls, but also there was a small round box in white jade, inlaid with crystal and ivory and engraved with symbols of the elements. Harun wondered what that was, but Majid and Zetsubou seemed to be busy so he waited.
“All is ready,” said Majid to himself, he then turned to see Zetsubou coming towards them. “Well?”
Zetsubou nodded. “We can begin,” he said.
“Good,” said Majid with a nod. “There is just one more thing.” He turned to Harun. “I’ll need your amulet.”
Harun looked questioning at him.
“It’s for your protection,” said Majid. “Trust me.”
He reached inside his clothing for the amethyst talisman. Karasu had given it to him last spring. Given to him for safekeeping by his mother, given to her by Zetsubou. Engraved on it were the mons of the Crab and Unicorn clans. He looped it over his head and handed it to Majid.
Majid held it in one hand and muttered a few words, moving his hands. Then he handed it back to Harun.
“It’s a meishodo now,” Majid said. “It will protect you if you need it.”
He put it back on, concealing it beneath his clothing, the seriousness in Majid’s voice was worrying. Zetsubou was far more reassuring.
“Harun, what we are going to do now is open a door into Yomi, to the realm of the blessed ancestors,” he said. “You will hear and see things, the shryo, the souls of the ancestors, we will petition to help us cleanse the lands.”
“This,” said Majid, indicating the jade box, “is how we hope to succeed. It took me years to create it. Inside is the light of Tengoku, which is what will cleanse the land.”
Harun nodded. “Will it work?”
Majid and Zetsubou exchanged a concerned glance.
“We have hope,” said Zetsubou.
They all stood in front of the platform, Zetsubou in the middle and Harun and Majid either side. Zetsubou took up a spell scroll and began to read it, saying the words to open the door into Yomi.
“Blessed Ancestors, we seek your wise guidance,” he said. “Come among us, so that we may hear your wisdom.”
A soft, warm wind began to blow and Harun thought he could smell…fresh grass was it. Fresh grass, like spring. Beneath the spans of the torii arch, a gentle light began to appear. Then, with a bright burst of light, they could see through the arch to another place. Full of light, and green, with the sound of the wind through grass and of birds singing.
Majid and Harun helped Zetsubou to a sitting position, his back against the stone pillar. The Akodo’s face was deep in concentration as he opened the portal. From the archway, there was a flicker of light. Majid looked over at it.
“Someone has come through,” he said to Harun.
They heard a voice, coming like birdsong on a breeze, bursting with joy and love.
“Harun, my son!”
Harun looked up, a short figure was coming—no running—towards him. His features a blur of light and colour, not identifiable, but Harun thought he knew.
“Father?”
The shryo smiled, his features coming into focus. He was short, shorter than Harun. He wore a kimono patterned with blue and purple circles. He had a beard, small and fine compared to Harun’s. But what Harun noticed most of all were his, not just shining with the joy of seeing him, Harun recognised them as his own.
“I’ve waited so long,” said Nakura. He reached forward, but his hands passed right through Harun’s. “To see you, to speak with you…oh my son.” He laughed, looking Harun up and down. “You sure take after your mother’s people, but we only ever talked about having girls.” He grinned. “And nothing about you being a Crane.”
“Father, I…” Harun was choked up with emotion. He never imagined this would ever happen, at least, not while he was still alive. What does one say to the spirit of one’s dead father?”
Someone else emerged from the archway. A woman. She wore the lamellar armour as was worn by the samurai at the dawn of the empire, but she had no daisho, instead carrying a spear wearing the conical hat of an ashigaru.
“What’s all this, Nakura?” she asked impatiently. “This can all wait, there’s work to be done.” She then turned to Harun. “And I think I know who you are. If your mother had followed my advice, you wouldn’t be here.”
Harun almost laughed, which somehow seemed very inappropriate. He had an idea who she was, but Majid certainly knew. He went into a deep bow and motioned for Harun to do the same.
“Hikahime-no-fortune,” said Majid solemnly. “We are honoured by your presence and aid in this sacred task.”
“Never mind that,” Hikahime said, dismissing their formalities. “We know why you are here, we all do.”
“All?” Harun repeated.
Some more shryo emerged from the archway. A wild-looking, bearded Moto clad in leather and fur; a young Crane woman who carried a splendid daisho, and wore the robes of a kenshinzen; and finally some true Kitsu.
The Kitsu looked most strange. they was covered in golden fur, yet wore armour like a samurai. They had the face, mane, paws and claws of a lion, yet they walked upright like a man and carried a spear.
Harun took a quick look back at Zetsubou for his reaction. There was a lot of strain on his face as he clearly was in a lot of pain from keeping the portal, but he did look pleased and even a little surprised.
More came out, many, many more. Some wearing the same lamellar armour Hikahime wore. They crowded out of the torii arch, standing around before them with many more behind them. Their spirit forms emitting soft light. The Blessed Ancestors of Yomi, all there to provide aid.
One of the Kitsu approached them. Majid and Harun bowed low.
“Honoured Kitsu and shryo of the Blessed Guard,” said Majid, his voice solemn and clear. “We petition you to aid us to gain Tengoku’s Favour once more. We wish to cleanse the land of the taint and restore harmony.” He bowed again, holding the small jade box in his hands. “We offer this, made of all that is pure and sacred that will serve as a means to heal the lands.”
The Kitsu was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “This acceptable,” he said, his deep and growling. “But know this as well: this is but a first step in restoring the harmony between Tengoku and Ningen-do. For this to be finished, more must be done. All of the kami must return home, the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko, and there must be balance between the Dragons of Jade and Obsidian.” He looked between Harun and Majid. “All of this must happen, and it must happen in its own time. Do you understand this?”
Harun and Majid nodded. Zetsubou made a movement that could have been a nod.
Before anyone could say anything more, Nakura immediately stepped forward. “Harun, you can’t stay here,” said Nakura. “I know out here you are pulled towards the life your mother and I wanted for you, but there is much for you to do, my son.”
“I understand, father,” said Harun.
“You better,” said Hikahime from somewhere behind him. “How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo?”
The Kitsu turned and looked at the rising sun. “It is time,” he said. “The offering must be made.”
Majid nodded and motioned for Harun to stand beside Zetsubou. The atmosphere grew tense, that was enough for Harun to realise that now came the danger. He looked down at Zetsubou, he was pale, sweat was pouring down him, obviously in a lot of pain to keep the door open. But when Majid looked his way, Zetsubou nodded to proceed.
Majid held out the jade box with one hand, with his other he touched each of the rings on his fingers and each of the colourful beads of the necklace he wore.
The very air grew thick and seemed to twist and ripple before Harun’s eyes. Harun’s vision blurred, he began to feel heavy and lightheaded, as if he were about to faint. The jade box in Majid’s hand began to shine with soft light.
The shryo, the Kitsu, knelt down where they stood and bowed their heads in prayer. Behind them, Harun could see rows and rows kneeling down. He remained standing, ready, so did Majid and Kitsu in front of him. He began to speak.
“Yomi has always stood to guide the mortals of Ningen-Do and to protect Tengoku from the taint of Jigoku,” he said, leading them in prayer. “Now, we lend our strength for Tengoku’s light to cleanse the land.”
The box shined even more brightly, almost blindingly so. The Kitsu reached out, and took it. There came a great burst of tiny white lights from the box, like a thousand shooting stars rising up from the box and flying up high over their heads.
Then Zetsubou screamed in pain, his shrieks akin to an animal in a fire, a lost soul in torment.
“It’s the Void!” Majid shouted to Harun. “His body, it can’t take the energy needed to complete the ritual. Harun, you have to…”
I promised him, thought Harun, unsheathing his katana. He raised it above his head before he struck down Zetsubou, giving him mercy from the pain.
But Zetsubou held out a hand, his screams subsided but he was clearly in pain.
“What’s going on?” Harun asked Majid.
“The poor fool,” Majid said. “He has to finish it, we can’t stop it.”
Harun took a quick look towards the portal. The shryo were still kneeling and praying, the tiny stars rising from the box and then falling like silver rain from the sky.
Zetsubou gave another cry, this one much quieter and far more heartbreaking. He was in pain, probably dying. Was the ritual finished? Would the land be cleansed?
Harun looked at Majid. Majid nodded. Harun raised his katana again, ready to do his duty.
“No!” shouted the Kitsu, his voice like thunder. He lunged forward and grabbed Zetsubou’s shoulder. “You have served well, brother, but your duty is now at an end. Rest now.” The Kitsu grabbed Zetsubou’s hand, pulling him forward so hard that Zetsubou was slumped face down his red hair brilliant against the white of the snow. And pulled Zetsubou’s spirit from his body.
“Zetsubou!” Harun dropped his katana rushed over to him. Kneeling beside him, grabbing him, turning him over, shaking him. Zetsubou’s eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, he looked peaceful, without pain. “No, no!”
“Harun!”
He looked up. Zetsubou was standing there, above his own body that was lying in Harun’s arms.
“No, it can’t happen,” pleased Harun.
Zetsubou smiled sadly. “We all knew it would end like this. Even your mother. Even you.”
He then turned to join the skyro who welcomed him among their number. Then little by little, after bowing and acknowledging Harun and Majid, they started to fade away.
Tears flowed down Harun’s cheeks. This was not supposed to happen. Zetsubou was so good, so kind. He had a wife, children, a home they were all happy in.
“Harun.”
He looked up again. It was his father, smiling down at him with pride. He put a hand on Harun’s shoulder, and for the briefest of moments, Harun felt his father’s touch. “The sun is rising, we can’t stay. I am proud of you, my son. You have honour that I never had in my life.”
“You honour me, father,” said Harun through his tears. There was so much more he wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. “Will I see you again?”
“Nakura nodded. “There is much before that, Harun, that you must do. Good thing you have your mother’s courage.”
“Father!” He reached out as Nakura’s spirit faded away with the rising sun. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the anguish in his heart.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, it was alive.
“This is how he wanted it, Harun,” said Majid. “And this is how it must be.”
“But…” Harun’s voice broke with emotion.
“Yes, I know,” said Majid. “But us, the living, we must carry on.”
Tonight, someone dies.
----
Harun was silent more a long time, trying to find the words to express what had happened. He could feel his emotion rising, overcoming him. He took a long sip of tea and a few deep breaths.
“My apologies, sensei,” said Harun. “This part of what happened, it’s difficult to talk about. I’m not doing much credit to all the court training we were given.”
Kenshin nodded silently.
Harun cleared his throat, took another sip of tea and continued.
“We rode west for most of the day, following the river,” said Harun. “There were just the three of us, and a few guards.”
“Was there still threat from the Onyx?” Kenshin asked.
Harun shook his head. “Not really, but there weren’t not about to risk everything when we were so close.” He took another sip of tea. “The Unicorn had been making aids all winter, in preparation for pushing on further west in the spring. But it would all be for nothing if Majid and Zetsubou failed…”
They arrived at the place as the sun was setting, Harun could see the light fading across the endless plains. Harun stood there a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. At least, until Majid told him to stop dawdling and help set up the camp.
Between them and the guards there were four yurts. Two for the people and two for the horses Zetsubou helped them set them up before going down to river while Majid and Harun saw to the food. Rice as well as chicken skewers cooked over the fire with flatbread and hummus. When it was ready they all sat down sat around the fire, eating what they could which wasn’t much. The guards spoke, but for Majid, Harun and Zetsubou tension hanging over them was palpable and there was little talk.
When it too cold to remain outside, Harun and Zetsubou went into the yurt and Majid went to see to the horses. Harun pulled his cloak close around him, sitting close to the porcelain brazier next to Zetsubou who was deep in thought.
“Harun,” said Zetsubou at last, “I’ve wanted to tell you for some time how grateful I am to have you here.”
“Thank you, Zetsubou,” said Harun.
“I think you know by now how much danger we could be in,” said Zetsubou.
“Danger of failing?” Harun asked.
“No, I don’t think we will fail,” said Zetsubou, shaking his head. “The danger is to us, or rather to Majid and myself.” He looked at Harun. “It’s hard to explain, but you need to be ready to act.”
“To do what, Zetsubou?” Harun asked, a little worried.
“To kill me,” Zetsubou said quietly.
Harun looked at Zetsubou in shock. “Surely…”
“Harun,” said Zetsubou seriously, “Majid and I have discussed this many times once we knew what we needed to do. We aren’t talking about a blood sacrifice, this isn’t blood magic. But strange things do happen during powerful magic rituals. I might…not be myself, something might happen to me.” He looked at Harun solemnly. “I need you to promise me you will kill me before that happens…”
“Zetsubou—“
“Harun, promise me!”
Harun bowed his head. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Zetsubou with a nod. “There is one more thing that I need to say to you, in the event of my death—“
“Zetsubou!”
“In the event of my death,” Zetsubou repeated patiently, “I have prepared papers back in my tent for you to carry out. My instructions are clear. I also want you to go and see my brother, Akodo Kibo in Shiro sano Ken Haya in Lion Lands. He will need friends and I know it will help him to see you.”
Harun felt a little sick talking to Zetsubou about this, plans for his death. But a samurai must always be ready for his death.
“I promise,” Harun said. “What about your family?”
“Majid will see to that,” Zetsubou said quietly. “We have known each other for years, since the second seal. It will be better coming from him.”
Harun nodded gravely. “I hope that neither of us have to do any of this.”
“So do I,” said Zetsubou. “But as Akodo-no-kami said, we all must be ready for our deaths.”
The evening might have been pretty dour had Majid not returned then and livened things up. They passed around some sake, played shogi—Majid even gave Harun a quick lesson. Majid then got out a set of pipes and began to play, a lilting airy tune that was rather soothing.
Afterwards, when Majid was asleep. Harun and Zetsubou sat at the tent door watching the snow fall, they were rugged up warm and the porcelain heater was that their backs. Zetsubou was silent, pensive.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said after a long silence, “is it true that you are considering staying here in Unicorn lands? Perhaps becoming a Unicorn yourself?”
“It is, or rather was,” said Harun.
“Was? You have decided to leave?”
“Not exactly,” said Harun. He told Zetsubou the whole story, delicately skipping over the parts with Asuna and hoping that Zetsubou understood what he was implying.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said when he had finished. “Have I told you what you mother wanted out of her life? What drove her?”
Harun shook his head.
“There were many things,” Zetsubou said. “She wanted the happiness of a family that had been taken from her, wanted to return home, to the steppes of the Unicorn plains…but she gave all those up those after you were born for a different purpose, so that you and others could have those things…and others.” He looked at Harun. “Something tells me that you are looking for a purpose, is this true?”
Harun nodded.
“Have you found it yet?” Zetsubou asked, his lion eyes shining with understanding and kindness.
“No,” said Harun, “I am starting to wonder if I ever will.”
“Your purpose may end up finding you, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “And it may not be something that you like.”
Harun nodded, staying nothing, staring out at the snow.
They retired to bed after that, getting a few hours of sleep and then rising several hours before the dawn. Harun dressed warmly in his wool and fur cloak, Majid and Zetsubou in their shugenja robes. Zetsubou in yellow and brown, Majid in white with black void mons on his shoulders with the colourful beaded necklace and rings he always wore. He also painted his face white, with black on his mouth, cheeks and around his eyes.
The last time Harun saw Majid like this, it was before the attack on Shiro Moto.
We prepare out bodies for death, he had said at the time. He met Majid’s eyes, the Moto nodded seriously.
It was time.
They headed out of the camp and down to the river, the guards had been instructed to keep their distance.
The Firefly River was a ribbon of silver in the early morning twilight. Just beside it was a torii archway and in front of that, further up on the riverbank were a few stones piled high into a small column.
It’s a shrine, Harun realised, but he saw nothing to signify who it was to.
Majid went up to the stone platform and begun to lay out a few things while Zetsubou went down to the archway. Not sure what to do, Harun went over to Majid. The Moto was laying out spell scrolls, but also there was a small round box in white jade, inlaid with crystal and ivory and engraved with symbols of the elements. Harun wondered what that was, but Majid and Zetsubou seemed to be busy so he waited.
“All is ready,” said Majid to himself, he then turned to see Zetsubou coming towards them. “Well?”
Zetsubou nodded. “We can begin,” he said.
“Good,” said Majid with a nod. “There is just one more thing.” He turned to Harun. “I’ll need your amulet.”
Harun looked questioning at him.
“It’s for your protection,” said Majid. “Trust me.”
He reached inside his clothing for the amethyst talisman. Karasu had given it to him last spring. Given to him for safekeeping by his mother, given to her by Zetsubou. Engraved on it were the mons of the Crab and Unicorn clans. He looped it over his head and handed it to Majid.
Majid held it in one hand and muttered a few words, moving his hands. Then he handed it back to Harun.
“It’s a meishodo now,” Majid said. “It will protect you if you need it.”
He put it back on, concealing it beneath his clothing, the seriousness in Majid’s voice was worrying. Zetsubou was far more reassuring.
“Harun, what we are going to do now is open a door into Yomi, to the realm of the blessed ancestors,” he said. “You will hear and see things, the shryo, the souls of the ancestors, we will petition to help us cleanse the lands.”
“This,” said Majid, indicating the jade box, “is how we hope to succeed. It took me years to create it. Inside is the light of Tengoku, which is what will cleanse the land.”
Harun nodded. “Will it work?”
Majid and Zetsubou exchanged a concerned glance.
“We have hope,” said Zetsubou.
They all stood in front of the platform, Zetsubou in the middle and Harun and Majid either side. Zetsubou took up a spell scroll and began to read it, saying the words to open the door into Yomi.
“Blessed Ancestors, we seek your wise guidance,” he said. “Come among us, so that we may hear your wisdom.”
A soft, warm wind began to blow and Harun thought he could smell…fresh grass was it. Fresh grass, like spring. Beneath the spans of the torii arch, a gentle light began to appear. Then, with a bright burst of light, they could see through the arch to another place. Full of light, and green, with the sound of the wind through grass and of birds singing.
Majid and Harun helped Zetsubou to a sitting position, his back against the stone pillar. The Akodo’s face was deep in concentration as he opened the portal. From the archway, there was a flicker of light. Majid looked over at it.
“Someone has come through,” he said to Harun.
They heard a voice, coming like birdsong on a breeze, bursting with joy and love.
“Harun, my son!”
Harun looked up, a short figure was coming—no running—towards him. His features a blur of light and colour, not identifiable, but Harun thought he knew.
“Father?”
The shryo smiled, his features coming into focus. He was short, shorter than Harun. He wore a kimono patterned with blue and purple circles. He had a beard, small and fine compared to Harun’s. But what Harun noticed most of all were his, not just shining with the joy of seeing him, Harun recognised them as his own.
“I’ve waited so long,” said Nakura. He reached forward, but his hands passed right through Harun’s. “To see you, to speak with you…oh my son.” He laughed, looking Harun up and down. “You sure take after your mother’s people, but we only ever talked about having girls.” He grinned. “And nothing about you being a Crane.”
“Father, I…” Harun was choked up with emotion. He never imagined this would ever happen, at least, not while he was still alive. What does one say to the spirit of one’s dead father?”
Someone else emerged from the archway. A woman. She wore the lamellar armour as was worn by the samurai at the dawn of the empire, but she had no daisho, instead carrying a spear wearing the conical hat of an ashigaru.
“What’s all this, Nakura?” she asked impatiently. “This can all wait, there’s work to be done.” She then turned to Harun. “And I think I know who you are. If your mother had followed my advice, you wouldn’t be here.”
Harun almost laughed, which somehow seemed very inappropriate. He had an idea who she was, but Majid certainly knew. He went into a deep bow and motioned for Harun to do the same.
“Hikahime-no-fortune,” said Majid solemnly. “We are honoured by your presence and aid in this sacred task.”
“Never mind that,” Hikahime said, dismissing their formalities. “We know why you are here, we all do.”
“All?” Harun repeated.
Some more shryo emerged from the archway. A wild-looking, bearded Moto clad in leather and fur; a young Crane woman who carried a splendid daisho, and wore the robes of a kenshinzen; and finally some true Kitsu.
The Kitsu looked most strange. they was covered in golden fur, yet wore armour like a samurai. They had the face, mane, paws and claws of a lion, yet they walked upright like a man and carried a spear.
Harun took a quick look back at Zetsubou for his reaction. There was a lot of strain on his face as he clearly was in a lot of pain from keeping the portal, but he did look pleased and even a little surprised.
More came out, many, many more. Some wearing the same lamellar armour Hikahime wore. They crowded out of the torii arch, standing around before them with many more behind them. Their spirit forms emitting soft light. The Blessed Ancestors of Yomi, all there to provide aid.
One of the Kitsu approached them. Majid and Harun bowed low.
“Honoured Kitsu and shryo of the Blessed Guard,” said Majid, his voice solemn and clear. “We petition you to aid us to gain Tengoku’s Favour once more. We wish to cleanse the land of the taint and restore harmony.” He bowed again, holding the small jade box in his hands. “We offer this, made of all that is pure and sacred that will serve as a means to heal the lands.”
The Kitsu was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “This acceptable,” he said, his deep and growling. “But know this as well: this is but a first step in restoring the harmony between Tengoku and Ningen-do. For this to be finished, more must be done. All of the kami must return home, the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko, and there must be balance between the Dragons of Jade and Obsidian.” He looked between Harun and Majid. “All of this must happen, and it must happen in its own time. Do you understand this?”
Harun and Majid nodded. Zetsubou made a movement that could have been a nod.
Before anyone could say anything more, Nakura immediately stepped forward. “Harun, you can’t stay here,” said Nakura. “I know out here you are pulled towards the life your mother and I wanted for you, but there is much for you to do, my son.”
“I understand, father,” said Harun.
“You better,” said Hikahime from somewhere behind him. “How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo?”
The Kitsu turned and looked at the rising sun. “It is time,” he said. “The offering must be made.”
Majid nodded and motioned for Harun to stand beside Zetsubou. The atmosphere grew tense, that was enough for Harun to realise that now came the danger. He looked down at Zetsubou, he was pale, sweat was pouring down him, obviously in a lot of pain to keep the door open. But when Majid looked his way, Zetsubou nodded to proceed.
Majid held out the jade box with one hand, with his other he touched each of the rings on his fingers and each of the colourful beads of the necklace he wore.
The very air grew thick and seemed to twist and ripple before Harun’s eyes. Harun’s vision blurred, he began to feel heavy and lightheaded, as if he were about to faint. The jade box in Majid’s hand began to shine with soft light.
The shryo, the Kitsu, knelt down where they stood and bowed their heads in prayer. Behind them, Harun could see rows and rows kneeling down. He remained standing, ready, so did Majid and Kitsu in front of him. He began to speak.
“Yomi has always stood to guide the mortals of Ningen-Do and to protect Tengoku from the taint of Jigoku,” he said, leading them in prayer. “Now, we lend our strength for Tengoku’s light to cleanse the land.”
The box shined even more brightly, almost blindingly so. The Kitsu reached out, and took it. There came a great burst of tiny white lights from the box, like a thousand shooting stars rising up from the box and flying up high over their heads.
Then Zetsubou screamed in pain, his shrieks akin to an animal in a fire, a lost soul in torment.
“It’s the Void!” Majid shouted to Harun. “His body, it can’t take the energy needed to complete the ritual. Harun, you have to…”
I promised him, thought Harun, unsheathing his katana. He raised it above his head before he struck down Zetsubou, giving him mercy from the pain.
But Zetsubou held out a hand, his screams subsided but he was clearly in pain.
“What’s going on?” Harun asked Majid.
“The poor fool,” Majid said. “He has to finish it, we can’t stop it.”
Harun took a quick look towards the portal. The shryo were still kneeling and praying, the tiny stars rising from the box and then falling like silver rain from the sky.
Zetsubou gave another cry, this one much quieter and far more heartbreaking. He was in pain, probably dying. Was the ritual finished? Would the land be cleansed?
Harun looked at Majid. Majid nodded. Harun raised his katana again, ready to do his duty.
“No!” shouted the Kitsu, his voice like thunder. He lunged forward and grabbed Zetsubou’s shoulder. “You have served well, brother, but your duty is now at an end. Rest now.” The Kitsu grabbed Zetsubou’s hand, pulling him forward so hard that Zetsubou was slumped face down his red hair brilliant against the white of the snow. And pulled Zetsubou’s spirit from his body.
“Zetsubou!” Harun dropped his katana rushed over to him. Kneeling beside him, grabbing him, turning him over, shaking him. Zetsubou’s eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, he looked peaceful, without pain. “No, no!”
“Harun!”
He looked up. Zetsubou was standing there, above his own body that was lying in Harun’s arms.
“No, it can’t happen,” pleased Harun.
Zetsubou smiled sadly. “We all knew it would end like this. Even your mother. Even you.”
He then turned to join the skyro who welcomed him among their number. Then little by little, after bowing and acknowledging Harun and Majid, they started to fade away.
Tears flowed down Harun’s cheeks. This was not supposed to happen. Zetsubou was so good, so kind. He had a wife, children, a home they were all happy in.
“Harun.”
He looked up again. It was his father, smiling down at him with pride. He put a hand on Harun’s shoulder, and for the briefest of moments, Harun felt his father’s touch. “The sun is rising, we can’t stay. I am proud of you, my son. You have honour that I never had in my life.”
“You honour me, father,” said Harun through his tears. There was so much more he wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. “Will I see you again?”
“Nakura nodded. “There is much before that, Harun, that you must do. Good thing you have your mother’s courage.”
“Father!” He reached out as Nakura’s spirit faded away with the rising sun. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the anguish in his heart.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, it was alive.
“This is how he wanted it, Harun,” said Majid. “And this is how it must be.”
“But…” Harun’s voice broke with emotion.
“Yes, I know,” said Majid. “But us, the living, we must carry on.”