Unleashed, Part 1

Unleashed, Part 1
The front lines of the war with the Destroyers face a new and terrible truth as the dark goddess Kali-ma grows angry with the dogged determination of the Great Clans opposing her.

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

Hida Kaihei wrenched his weapon free of the iron prison that held it, freeing it only after a moment of tremendous urging. He looked at the length of the blade and grimaced. It was a bisento he had modified, shortening the shaft and thickening the blade. It had fared very well against the Destroyers thus far, but was showing clear signs of stress. He considered taking it to the Kaiu, but the poor weaponsmiths were completely exhausted from the constant deluge of repairing existing weapons and creating new ones. He had no wish to contribute to the situation, and resolved to correct the problem himself. He had modified it in the first place, so it was only fitting.

“They fall back again,” a weary voice over his shoulder said. “Why?”

Kaihei glanced at the Unicorn woman dismounting and rubbing her horse’s flank. “My uncle used to tell me that when someone gives you a free meal, don’t spend too much time wondering at the quality of the ingredients.”

Utaku Jisoo looked at him in annoyance. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s hard to tell a lot of the time with my uncle,” Kaihei admitted. “He was a Yasuki, after all. But in this case, I think he meant that when you are given a gift you should be grateful and not ask too many uncomfortable questions.” He jerked his head indicate the battlefield behind him. “Be more like that one and just enjoy it, eh?”

Jisoo looked past Kaihei to a lone Lion samurai wiping grime from his weapons and armor with a filthy bit of cloth. The white make-up that had once covered the man’s face was all but gone, erased with sweat and effort of hours of fighting. Once his equipment was apparently satisfactory in his mind, the Lion simply sat down where he was, leaned back against a ruined bit of wall, and appeared to go to sleep. “Bah,” Jisoo said. “Deathseekers are half-mad.”

“Half mad and half warcat, perhaps,” Kaihei said. “Kitaka has the right of it, though. Rest. The demons will be back soon enough.”

Jisoo closed her eyes for a moment. “Perhaps you are right,” she said, her voice sounding like a woman three times her age. “My horse needs water and rest as well.” She opened her eyes and turned back to the retreating enemy line. “Rest, though that is the thing, is it not? Those demons need no rest. Why fall back?”

Kaihei sighed. “We cannot know if they need rest, can we?” he asked. “Perhaps they simply need less of it.” He paused for a moment, picking flecks of metal from his blade. “But you are likely correct,” he finally added. “They do not sleep.”

A third samurai appeared among them, moving across the battlefield with the silence of a cloud that crossed the sun’s path. “They have moved much more slowly since the Crab lands fell,” the newcomer observed. “No insult intended by mention of the tragedy, Kaihei-san.”

Kaihei frowned slightly, but said, “None taken, Bayushi-san. You fought well.”

“Thank you, I am honored,” the Scorpion said, bowing deeply. “Please, call me Kaibara.”

The Crab nodded. “You are right, though, they advance much more slowly now, although I am uncertain why.”

“They retreat with less effort on our part, though they fight no less enthusiastically,” Jisoo said. “There must be a purpose for it. What is different now?”

“They hold our territory,” Kaibara said. “Not our in terms of Scorpion of course, but in terms of Rokugani land.” She nodded toward the south. “They hold territory. There can be but one reason that their advance has slowed.”

“What is that?” Jisoo asked.

“They are looking for something,” Kaibara answered.

“Huh,” Kaihei grunted. “Whatever it is, I hope they find it and go back to their godforsaken gaijin lands.”

“No,” Kaibara said quietly. “No, if they find it, I think we are in a great deal of trouble.”

* * * * *

Weeks after it had fallen, the ruins of Kuni Shiro continued to smolder, filling the air with a thin haze that dulled the sunlight even during the mid-day heat. Two men made their way through the haze, navigating the ruins with obvious familiarity, neither speaking to one another. One cast aside what appeared to be a blackened scrap of paper, letting it fall from his fingers to crumble to pieces amid the shattered stone.

Amid the ruins there was an open courtyard, the smoke clinging to it like a morning fog, and amid the courtyard there was a solitary figure. The two men approached cautiously, as they ever did; time had taught them that this was necessary. Even in the smoke it was clear that there was something different about the figure. Its flesh seemed to swim and flow like water, until finally, just as the two men emerged from the smoke, it settled upon a familiar if no less horrifying figure: that of a massive warrior with a tiger’s head atop its shoulders. “Legulus, what news?”

One of the men stepped forward, his golden armor seeming brilliant despite the dimness. “The advancement goes well, my lord. The pace has diminished in order to set the majority of your still-human vassals to the search, as commanded. The reinforcement of the enemy’s front line with these Scorpion has introduced some new strategies, but nothing that cannot be overcome.”

The rakshasa commander of the Destroyer horde nodded. “Kheth-tet?”

The second man bowed, his bare chest a golden brown, his face painted with elaborate care. “The search continues moving northward, my lord, but as of yet there have been no discoveries of note. The Hounds find no trace of the scent they seek, and the records that have been recovered from all targets taken intact give no indication of our quarry or where it might be located.” He shook his head. “I do not believe it was within the Crab lands, master.”

The tiger growl continued for a moment, but it grew quieter and disappeared. “That was to be expected,” the demon said. “It matters little. The Scorpion lands, however that is a much more likely location. We will check their lands very carefully. Be sure to advance the lines sufficiently to give us ample room to search, but do not advance too quickly. The legions will trod the lands to mud if we are too hasty in our approach.”

“As you command, master,” Legulus said at once.

“Your will, master,” Kheth-tet answered.

The demon regarded to the men carefully. “There is another matter which you should be made aware of,” it said, its tone almost regretful. “The goddess has grown angry with the temerity of our foes. Their blasphemous failure to capitulate before the inevitability of her forces has awakened the fullness of her rage. She intends to release her greatest weapon. Make arrangements for your forces to be clear of the area.”

Legulus whispered a prayer to some ancient Yodotai god, and Kheth-tet made some arcane gesture of invocation. Neither said anything for a moment, but finally, Kheth-tet spoke. “Master are you certain? We have not yet searched the Scorpion lands, and they could be torn asunder utterly.”

“Have you forgotten the penalty for questioning your master?” the demon hissed, its voice low and menacing.

“No, master,” Kheth-tet answered quickly, “but I ask this not out of willfulness, but rather concern for our greater purpose. Would it not be more prudent for us”

The demon flowed across the distance between the two of them like a thing of smoke and wind, striking the Senpet across the face and hurling him to ground. “Disobedient lout!” it roared. “I should flay the flesh from your bones, impudent fool!”

“Forgive me, master!” Kheth-tet said, covering his face. “I meant no disrespect! Your will, and the will of the goddess, are my only concerns!”

The demon stopped, one bloodied hand held aloft. “Filthy mortal!” it snarled. “Legulus! Help him up and go about your duties!”

The Yodotai smirked as he helped the Senpet to his feet, and Kheth-tet quickly tore his arm away from his rival’s. Legulus disappeared back into the smoke from which the two had come, and Kheth-tet made to follow, but was interrupted. “Wait.”

“Master?”

“Do you understand your value to me, Kheth-tet?” the demon inquired.

The Senpet was unsure how to respond. “I would hope that I am valuable in many ways to you, master.”

“You are not unskilled as a warrior or commander,” the rakshasa continued, “although Legulus is your better in both regards.”

Kheth-tet’s expression grew stormy, “Master, I”

“Be silent!” the demon hissed. “Your presence infuriates him, and your talents threaten him, pushing him to be more. That alone increases your value, but you are also no mindless soldier like he is, and your cunning is valuable to me.” The thing paused and turned to him. “What have you found?”

The Senpet absently brushed blood from the wound on his cheek. “I have salvaged every scrap of paper that survived the immolation of this place,” he said quietly. “Unfortunately, I have found no mention of the name you seek. If these Kuni ever encountered Raniyah, the record either was not held here, or it was destroyed when the castle fell.”

The demon growled low in its throat, a terrible, feral sound. “Get thee from my sight.”

“Master,” Kheth-tet insisted.

The tiger’s head turned toward him, malice and violence in its eyes. “I said begone!”

Kheth-tet held aloft a scorched piece of scroll. “Master, putting the topic of the goddess’ search aside for a moment, I did find mention of a name you may be interested in. Adisabah, master.”

The demon’s eyes flickered, and it snatched the scroll away from the mortal’s hands. It growled again, sniffing the paper. “You have done well. Now go. The god-beast will be unleashed soon, and you have much to do in the interim.”

“Yes, master,” Kheth-tet said with a bow.

* * * * *

It was midnight in the Phoenix provinces, and the Master of the Void slept. Her sleep was far from restful, however. Isawa Kimi’s brow was soaked with sweat. She frowned and tossed amid her blankets, although none were there to see her. And her dreams were greatly troubled.

A dark temple, hidden in the farthest reaches of the jungle. A group of the faithful, numbering well into the hundreds. A sacred number of them, all chanting the sacred texts and willingly giving of their blood and flesh in some terrible ritual. A goddess, torn by the ritual they enacted, her selves turning upon one another until only one, the strongest, the darkest, the most horrible, remained.

A groan escaped Kimi’s lips. It was a low, haunted sound.

The faithful put the kingdom to the torch as the terrible, dark goddess waged war against the heavens. Again and again the gods rose against her, only to be cast aside by her cunning, her ruthlessness, and her dark power. Every time, the defeat was easier, as her faithful ruined theirs. Ultimately, they could not stand against her, and one by one, they fell before her power.

She shuddered in her sleep, her hand clawing at the blankets.

The dark goddess towered over her defeated foes, her laughter terrible. One among her enemies remained alive, its form broken, its mind shattered. The dark goddess looked upon her prey with malicious cruelty and reached out with her four taloned hands. Its flesh began to shift and change with her will, and the still-living divine flesh became something else.

Kimi moaned again, louder this time, and there was a rustling from the corridor beyond her private chambers.

The thing the goddess had wrought walked the ruined kingdoms as both the heavens and the mortal realms burned. Its mind was no more, nothing but pure bestial instinct remaining. Its divine flesh commanded power unlike anything that the kingdoms had known before. The few cities that remained within the realm were destroyed utterly by its power. Nothing could stand against it. It was the deadly form of a shattered god, a beast made of the gods. A god-beast.

“No!” Kimi shrieked, sitting upright on her mat, her breath coming quickly.

The door to her chamber burst open at once, and the bleary-eyed form of her yojimbo stormed in, two sentries beside him. “What is it, my lady?” he demanded, looking around the room for any threat. “Are you alright?”

It comes for the Empire now, little one, a voice whispered in her mind. Ruination alone will follow in its wake, if you cannot find the answer.

“Ningen-sama!” she shouted.

“What?” Shiba Yoshimi said, clearly confused.

Goodbye, little one. I will always love you as my own daughter.

Yoshimi turned to one of the sentries. “Go inspect Ningen-sama’s quarters at once! Ensure he is not threatened!”

“No,” Kimi said, her voice a sob. “Do not go. He is gone now, gone to be one with the Void. He is lost to us.”

“What?” Yoshimi repeated. “How can you know” he trailed off and shook his head. “What is it you require, my lady? What can I do?”

She shook her head slowly. “I do not know,” she whispered.

* * * * *

There was a strange sound, distant and shrill. It would not stop. It seemed to go on forever. It persevered, keening on and on without ceasing, dragging him from the peaceful slumber he so rightly deserved. What was that sound? Did it seem vaguely familiar? As he finally struggled to complete wakefulness, Soshi Korenaga realized what it was.

He was screaming.

“Enough!” bellowed one of the guards. They had entered his chamber and he had somehow not known. “I have had my fill of your nonsensical ramblings, you lunatic! Will you not let up even in your sleep?”

“It is coming!” Korenaga rasped. “It is coming!”

The guardian shook his head, clearly accustomed to ridiculous outbursts. “Yes, yes,” he said, only slightly more calmly than before. “We understand.”

“Yukimi must be told!” Korenaga bellowed. “Summon her at once!”

The guard frowned and turned to his fellows. “He seems almost lucid. I have not heard him say anything that coherent in months.”

“The wards will not be enough to protect us!” Korenaga virtually roared. “It will smell us! Smell what we have done here! It will come!”

The guard shook his head and lifted both hands in a placatory manner. “Listen to me,” he said in a calm, soft tone. “You have had a terrible dream, that is all. Please try to”

Korenaga struck the man across the face with such force that his mask was hurled to the ground, where it shattered. His nails left two large gashes on the man’s cheek, sending him to his knees and cursing violently with the pain and surprise of it all. Korenaga disregarded him and turned to the other two men, his eyes almost blazing. “Summon lady Yukimi now! Now!”

* * * * *

The first rays of dawn broke over the battlefield, and Kaihei stood atop a small outcropping of rock to survey that which was before him. As was his custom, he scanned the distant front lines of his enemies, searching for any movement that might have escaped their nocturnal sentries. There was risk in elevating his position in such a manner, but the Destroyers made use of ranged attacks only sparingly, and he felt spry and well-rested enough to dodge any boulders the larger, bestial-looking demons might hurl at him. As he scanned the horizon, he frowned. He shielded his eyes and peered closer, his frown deepening. Finally, he called back toward the others. “Jisoo!”

The battle maiden sat bolt upright suddenly, her hand instinctively going to her weapon. She looked around at the others rising from their positions of rest, then finally looked up at the Crab warrior, annoyed. “You told me to rest and now you interrupt it?” she barked. “Is that what passes for humor among the Crab?”

“You Unicorn have keen senses,” Kaihei said, ignoring her jibes. “What is that?”

Jisoo scrambled to her feet and climbed up to join him, others rising behind her and peering in the direction Kaihei pointed. Jisoo, too, shielded her eyes and peered. “What is that?” she wondered aloud. “It looks like is it a hill? Or a mountain, far in the distance?”

“Not unless the Destroyers built one overnight,” one of the others remarked.

Kaihei shook his head slowly. “No mountain stands there,” he said. “Where are the Destroyers?”

“There,” Kaibara said, pointing at a sharp angle to her left. “And there.” To her right. “Their lines have divided. Look at the opening!”

“Should we prepare to push forward?” one of the other soldiers asked. “We could reach the Crab lands again!”

“What is that thing?” Kaibei asked again.

“It it is moving,” Jisoo said quietly. “I think I saw yes, it is definitely moving.” Her eyes widened. “Is it alive? Could anything so enormous be alive?”

“What do you mean, moving?” one of the ground-bound soldiers asked. “Move away, let me up there.”

“It moves this way,” Kaibara observed. “Whatever it is, it moves this way.”

“I know what that is,” a voice said quietly.

The others turned toward him. “Please, enlighten us,” Kaihei said.

“I have sought it for years, and throughout this entire battle,” Akodo Kitaka said, smearing a streak of white make-up on his face. “That is death, coming for us now.”

The others stared at him, uncertain of what to make of his remarks.

In the silence, the earth shook ever so slightly.