The Tournament Matches

The Tournament Matches
By the L5R Story Team

The lady Otomo Hoketuhime smiled as she lifted her hands. Silence enveloped the tournament grounds at once; the mood at the Jade Championship was far more reverent and less jubilant than at the Emerald Championship only a few months earlier.
Perhaps it was the cool air that heralded winter, Miya Shoin thought, or perhaps it was simply that the feats of skill and power those assembled here were witnessing was so far beyond their experience that they had no words worthy of the spectacle. At the Emerald Championship, there had been boisterous, hearty laughter and cheers throughout the trials and the tournament that followed. Thus far, the Jade Championship had been marked largely by silence and murmurs of conversation, with the rare occasion of polite applause following some particular display of ingenuity by a contestant.
“Congratulations to all who have honored their clans and the Heavens with their prowess,” Hoketuhime said. Even though she spoke in her normal tones, the projection from the Imperial booth was impressive, and her warm voice carried to every inch of the grounds. “In the next round, we will be privileged to observe the skill of Moshi Sayoko of the Mantis Clan, and Shosuro Atesharu of the Scorpion. Priests, you have one hour to prepare yourselves.”
The murmuring returned. Perhaps it was Shoin’s imagination, but it seemed even softer than before. Was it perhaps because of the Scorpion’s name? Or was it because of the Mantis’s reputation? The herald did not know for certain, but for whatever reason, the thought of this particular match made him uncomfortable.
Moshi Sayoko stepped into the ritual ring inscribed by the Sep- pun shugenja overseeing the tournament. She bowed sharply to those watching over the contest, then turned and bowed in the direction of her opponent without looking. The Mantis Clan might have made peace with their traditional enemies among the Scorpion, but that did not mean she would soon forget the decades of enmity between their people. She would not give her opponent the satisfaction. She was the head sense’ of Tempest Island. chosen successor of the legendary Yoritomo Kaigen himself, and she would give ground to no Scorpion, shugenja or no.
Across the way, out of the corner of her eye, she could see a shape of red, black, and white moving against the backdrop of banners that encircled the ring. She saw what might have been a bow. Then, to her surprise, her opponent spoke to her.
“It is my great honor to face you today, Sayoko-san,” the man said. “I had the privilege to play the role of your sensei in a play some months ago. I relished his strength. Today, perhaps, I will experience some of that same strength.”
Sayoko frowned and, despite herself, looked sidelong at the Scorpion priest. The man was obscured in thick robes, so much so that it was possible, she mused, that he could in fact be a woman. A red wig adorned his head and cascaded all around his shoulders, while a white kabuki mask obscured his every feature. There was not an inch of the man’s being she could see, which was mildly disconcerting. Of course, that was most likely the very reason he chose to garb himself in such a fashion.
Sayoko closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling the power of the air kami as they chilled her body. Atesharu was the lower ranking of the two of them, and as such he had been offered the choice of what format the duel would take: first blood, or the less common method of combat via avatar. He had chosen the latter. Sayoko was not as familiar with the style, but she had enough experience to win the day. She closed her eyes and focused her energies, marshalling the elements to coalesce and manifest before her. When she heard the gasps of the crowd, she knew that she was ready, and opened her eyes.
Before her was a towering warrior, his armor piecemeal in the traditional Yoritomo style. The surface of his body swam and stirred like the wind on the seas, and electricity played across the surface of his somewhat indistinct body. This was her avatar, the unbridled fury of the sea itself, and with it she would crush her opposition.
Atesharu had summoned an avatar as well, but the difference between the two could not be more pronounced. His avatar was far smaller, and far more detailed. It was as If it were simply a larger person, only comprised of air alone rather than all the elements. Sayoko could see the lines on the warrior’s face above its mempo, the wrinkles In the fabric where its obi met its hakama… the detail was amazing. All the same, she reached out to the kami comprising her avatar and bid them crush it.
Sayoko’s avatar swung at the smaller construct, but it moved far too fast. The Mantis frowned in anger and redirected her attacks, but again and again the smaller form moved aside. Atesharu did not even make an attempt to counterattack. Sayoko watched the form carefully, looking for any nuance in its position, any hint of its movement. It was at the last moment that she realized what a mistake she was making.
The other avatar suddenly bent and stretched, its body conforming to a shape that no human body could possibly adopt. Its arms lengthened and bent as if they had multiple joints, and the hole Sayoko had left open in her defense was easy enough for it to penetrate. Her avatar shuddered as a blade of pure air pierced it, and then it was gone.
There was a whispering murmur among the attendants, and Atesharu bowed deeply. “You look with your eyes, my lady. There is far more to a contest of this nature than mere appearance.”
Sayoko bit back an angry retort, and instead bowed. “Your detail is impressive,” she said. “We shall see if it serves you as well in the next round.”
Atesharu’s tone made it clear he was smiling. “We shall indeed, my lady.”
She sat alone in her tent, all sound from the outside cut off by the thick, layered material used to construct her shelter. She cast her spirit out of her body and through the veil of the spirit realms, into the realms beyond. It was a familiar ritual, one the daimyo of the Kitsu family performed often, for it was the gift of the Kitsu to seek guidance from the ancestors in person.
They first appeared on the edges of her perception, like phantoms in the mist, but as her consciousness crossed further into their realm, they become more and more distinct, until they were figures as real as any she might see in the Empire, perhaps even more so.
“Kitsu Katsuko,” one of the spirits intoned. “Are your preparations complete?”
“Yes, honorable ancestors,” she replied with a long, lingering bow. “I have been In preparation for weeks. I am ready.”
“This is no mean feat you attempt,” another of the spirits said. “Many of us have seen such tournaments during our lives. The competition will be fierce, and there are times when our family’s strict adherence to tradition and ritual can be a hindrance.”
“Agreed,” another said. “The willingness of other clans to cast aside the methods of their ancestors, while reproachable, offers them an advantage in situations like this.”
“I understand,” Katsuko said. “I will do what I must to earn victory.”
“Bring honor to our family,” one commanded. “Earn glory and honor in the name of the Kitsu, and redeem the stain brought by the traitor Okuma.”
“That much, I swear,” Katsuko said.
The Unicorn priest sipped at his cup of tea and savored the familiar flavor. It was his ritual, his means of calming himself. He would need to have his center if he was to have any measure of success in the coming tournament. “Rilcako,” he said, “has the announcement been made as to who I will face in the coming match?”
Horiuchi Rikako bowed. She had once served the late Shogun, but had sworn fealty to the Horiuchi family at his request, and now was among the most valued retainers of her daimyo. “They have, my lord.”
“Who?” Horiuchi Shem-Zhe asked.
“Kitsu Katsuko,” Rikako replied.
Shem-Zhe grimaced. “This is fate, then.”
“Perhaps,” Rikako replied. “It could also merely be coincidence.”
“Coincidence? Even if I believed in such a thing, the notion that I might face the daimyo of the Lion Clan’s shugenja family mere weeks after the Lion push forward into the Unicorn provinces would be far too much for me to accept.” He shook his head with a somber expression. “No, this is the chance I have always dreamed of. This is the chance to prove the worth of the Horiuchi family.”
“You cannot place that burden on your shoulders, my lord,” Rikako insisted. “It is too much for one man to bear. The Khan and the other lords know the value of our family. They have never questioned it. It is only you who feel the need to prove yourself.”
“That I alone can perceive a thing does not negate that thing’s existence.”
The sun was high in the sky when the two daimyo took to the field, but it did little to dispel the chill. The two regarded one another for a long time, saying nothing. Those in attendance to witness the duel likewise said nothing, their collective breath filling the air with winter vapors. Finally, it was Shem-Zhe who broke the silence.
“Kitsu Katsuko,” he said. “Daimyo of the Kitsu family. Mistress of the spirit realms. Defeated renowned shugenja Soshi Tsibaru at the age of sixteen.”
“Horiuchi Shem-Zhe,” she replied. “Daimyo of the Horiuchi family. Greatest student of Horiuchi Shoan, now head of the Brotherhood. Lauded by some as the only sensei of the Thousand Orphans kiho.”
“I am flattered by your knowledge of me, Kitsu-sama.”
“A Lion always knows her enemy,” she replied. “You are a worthy opponent.”
“As are you. Your defeat will mean much to the people of the Unicorn Clan.”
“And your defeat will redeem the honor of my family, which
was stained in generations past related to this tournament.” “There is but one answer, then,” Shem-Zhe said, bowing. “Indeed,” Katsuko replied, bowing in return.
The Unicorn unleashed a powerful kiai, and threw his hand forward, palms out. The ground surged and belched forth a great gout of water, which barreled forward like a miniature tsunami, surging across the ritual circle toward the Lion. Katsuko brought both hands together in a prayer position, pointing outward, and the water parted as though a blade had cleft it down the center. The loose soil atop the earth scattered as a column of air retraced the wave’s path, Shem-Zhe its intended target.
The priest waved both hands in front of him, and a rippling shield shimmered in the air before being dashed by the oncoming torrent. His robes and hair fluttered in the air but he did not move. A scimitar of flame burst into being before him, and adopted a fighting position similar to that seen on the front lines of the Unicorn armies, in the hands of the Khan’s elite Khol soldiers.
Katsuko nodded and moments later, a katana of water appeared, similarly positioned in the Matsu style: Both priests adopted static positions, but the blades they controlled leapt forward at one another. There was a rare gasp from the onlookers as the blades moved so rapidly they could scarcely be followed. Each of the duelists periodically shifted position, and each shift was accompanied by a change in style on the part of their summoned weapons.
After long minutes of fierce fighting, Katsuko let out a shout many in the audience would later swear was accompanied by the roaring of an unseen lion. The katana drew back and darted forward with incredible force and speed, shattering the scimitar of her opponent and rushing on as if to immolate Shem-Zhe. He held up his hands in a defensive posture, but the force of the blow was great enough to lift him from his feet and cast him smoldering from the ritual ring.
The arena was completely silent. Shem-Zhe rose shakily to his feet, his robes smoking from the effects of the barely-dispelled spell. Katsuko, to the surprise of many, bowed very deeply. “You are a worthy opponent,” she repeated. “Thank you.”
Tamori Wotan stepped into the light and shielded his one good eye. At his side stood Tamori Noriko. She looked across the quiet crowds and leaned towards Wotan. “Do you know who you face?”
Wotan nodded, his smile never leaving his face. “Kuni Ochiyo.”
“What do you know of her?”
“Little about her personally, but much anecdotally. She is among those who have risen to fill the ranks of the Kuni since they lost a large number in a foray into the Shadowlands. I imagine that is what passes for recreation in the Crab lands.”
Noriko frowned. “You should not take this so lightly, Wotan. You are a powerful shugenja and none can doubt your bravery ,4 after your battle at Kitsuki Pass, but there are many who see the Jade Championship as belonging specifically to someone who fights against the Shadowlands.”
“Of course.”
“So Kuril Ochiyo is likely to score very well in other parts of the competition. It is important you defeat her here.”
“Then it is convenient that this is exactly what I was planning to do.”
Wotan bowed to Ochiyo, who returned the gesture. “Kuni-san, I wish you well on this day. I am sure we will have a good match and that we will entertain the onlookers, no?”
Ochiyo seemed uninterested in the comment. “My purpose is not to entertain. Mount your assault when you are ready.”
Wotan chuckled. 1 insist, Ochiyo-san, after you.”
Many in the crowd were confused, as the two shugenja stood, neither calling on the kami in any overt manner or starting the battle at all. Noriko smiled inwardly. She could see Wotan’s stratagem here. Ochiyo had a defense and counterattack planned and Wotan refused to allow it.
“Are we at an impasse, friend Kuni? I will not attack you and you will not attack me. Should we-” Wotan was Interrupted as Ochiyo’s patience apparently reached its limit. She charged forward and a spray of rocks erupted from the ground in front of her. A wave of Wotan’s hand divided the spray so it fell on either side of him.
“This should be interesting, Kuni, as we play strength against strength.” Ochiyo said nothing as she sidestepped an emerging fissure beneath her feet.
Ochiyo darted to one side as a column of stone grew from the ground at her gesture. Wotan nodded and created a column of his own. Both competitors vaulted onto their created structures as the rocks bent and crashed together, forming a stone arch over the battlefield, with each facing the other on the top of it.
“You are not meant to be Jade Champion, Dragon,” Ochiyo said. you treat this like a game.”
Wotan grinned out of the side of his mouth. “All of life is a game, Crab. This is a game I intend to win, as my magic is more powerful than yours.”
“That remains to be seen, Dragon.” Ochiyo’s face turned to astonishment as Wotan summoned a weapon made of stone. “You wish to face me wielding a tetsubot So be it.” She summoned one of her own and walked along the stone arch towards Wotan.
“You misunderstand, Crab. I created this as a gift. Catch.” Wotan threw the tetsubo at Ochiyo, who swatted it aside with her own tetsubo. When they made contact, however, Wotan’s weapon exploded in a ball of fiery rock that Ochlyo was barely able to shield against.
“Your tricks will not defeat me, Dragon. I have faced horrors you can never imagine!” The Kuni concentrated and focused on the stone beneath her feet. An unseen energy, felt by both shugenja, traveled through the rock along the arch until it reached Ochiyo’s adversary.
Wotan’s mind was filled with images that he felt through the stone. He saw a legion of Crab, led by the, dark Kyofu, standing against the darkness and hordes of the Shadowlands. He saw men torn apart by oni and left to die in the mud. Wotan watched as one great beast shoved a samurai into his mouth and bit clean through his torso, swallowing the upper half.
Wotan felt the fear that washed over the samurai as a physical presence, though they did not let it gain purchase. He saw Ochiyo, using her spells to buttress the defense of the Crab warriors atop the Great Kaiu Wall. He saw one after another fall and succumb to the darkness, and yet they did not stop. He felt the despair and grief of the Crab, but even more so their dedication. Ochiyo would not be deterred easily.
Wotan fell to his knees as the Crab stepped forward to stand over him. She looked at the Dragon and then turned her head to claim her victory to the watching judges. Before she could speak, she felt a tremor through the rock beneath her feet. She looked back to Wotan as the fallen Dragon climbed to his feet. The smile was gone and his eye flashed with rage. “Did you think I had never, known despair, Crab? Did you think I did not know pain?” The depth of his anger felt to Ochiyo like it could encompass the entire arena.
The stone arch shattered and both Ochiyo and Wotan fell. The Dragon was prepared, however, and he fell much slower. As Ochiyo tried to gather her wits to also halt her descent, she saw Wotan from the corner of her eye. He motioned, and a group of stones falling with her changed course, striking her forcefully. Her concentration broken, she struck the ground hard.
As she scrambled to his feet, Wotan landed lightly beside her, with his palms extended in a gesture of peace. Ochiyo felt her face where rivulets of blood traced their way past her eyes and down her cheeks. She looked at her fingers where the crimson stain betrayed her loss.
Ochiyo turned to Wotan and bowed. Wotan, his eyes clear of the depth of anger and hatred the Crab had witnessed, returned the bow. Then he smiled.
The dark ronin, with his jingasa pulled low over his face, sat far from the teeming throngs around the Jade Championship arena. He was unmoving, appearing to be asleep, rather than deep in thought. That is, if anyone were to give him a second glance at all.
Another man, also wearing the robes of a ronin, approached him. “Does it hurt, Katsu?”
The dark man pushed his jingasa back far enough to look at the robed figure who spoke to him. “What do you want, Kyuwa?”
“I want to know if it hurts to get so close to something you have dreamed of for so long.”
“Speak your piece. Snake, or move on. I am preparing for my match.” -
Kyuwa sneered down at Katsu. “You are not truly one of us, Katsu. You did not voluntarily join with Daigotsu as the Chuda did.”
Katsu stood. “That is a lie.”
“A lie? Are you telling me you would have come to see the ways of Fu Leng If you hadn’t been forced to? You are with us because you had no choice. Admit it.”
“I think you should get to your point, Chuda, before I forget that we are on the same side.”
“That is exactly what I am reminding you, Katsu. Do not forget why we are here. Don’t try to live a life you were never welcome to. You are not one of them. You never will be.”
Katsu scowled. ‘Vet away from me, Chuda. We shouldn’t be seen together.”
Katsu stepped into the arena, oblivious to the identity of his opponent. He could have found out who he was scheduled to face, but he chose not to. Some might call that arrogance, and Katsu was certainly guilty of that. This was something different, though.
Was Kyuwa right? Did he truly want to win to bring power back to his Lord Daigotsu, or.did he Just crave acceptance from the world of the untainted?
Acceptance by the weak. Acceptance by the cold and cruel who would kill Katsu as soon as he made his true presence known.
No, Kyuwa was wrong. Katsu did not want their acceptance. He wanted to show them they were wrong to cast aside the strength and power that came with the taint. Katsu did not want to be their equal.
No. He was their better.
He looked across the arena and blinked in surprise. His opponent was barely more than a youth. It was a young girl wearing the colors and mon of the Fox clan.
Katsu had to be careful here. If he used too much power, he could kill the girl and expose himself.
Katsu walked forward as the Fox did the same.
“Hello. I am Kitsune Atka” She smiled thinly.
“I am Katsu.”
ronin, yes? We have much in common then. I am no ronin. but like yourself. I am not really considered a factor in these proceedings. Sometimes I think they invite people like us Just to round out the field so there is a more entertaining spectacle. Don’t you agree?”
Katsu mulled a response in his head before answering, “If you do not believe you have a chance, why are you here?”
“Kitsune Ryulcan asked me to. I do not wish to disappoint him. Why are you here?”
This was a question that Katsu did not want to answer. The place where his heart once beat felt cold at the thought. “I think we should begin.”
Alko shrugged. “Very well. Good luck.”
They separated and Katsu prepared his spells. He had to take great care to take no actions that could not also be taken by a Rokugani shugenja. He could drain the life out of this Fox in a second, but if he did so, he would be exposed.
Katsu felt the wind tug at his sleeve. Alko still stood, unmoving, but this was clearly the start of her assault. Katsu shrugged it off with a spell of his own, but as his magic began to counter the wind, there seemed to be a more physical presence than he was expecting. He altered his spell slightly to expose the magic around him.
A collective gasp came up from the crowd as a dozen ghostly fox spirits appeared in the arena. They were running in a circle around both combatants, and each time they passed Katsu, they snapped their teeth at him.
This was very dangerous. Katsu realized. If even one snuck past his defenses, it would draw blood and the bout would be over. Furthermore, Katsu was not sure if these were air constructs and not fox spirits themselves. If he was not careful, these Kitsune could expose him for what he was.
The Spider shugenja focused all of his spells on defense to repel the attack of the foxes. The snapping teeth, once threateningly close, were pushed from him. Katsu walked forward while maintaining the protective bubble. The foxes ran tighter and tighter, faster and faster, until they appeared more like a streaking circle of smoke to the crowd, though their teeth were still ever apparent to Katsu.
Finally he stood, a mere ten feet from Alko. He saw that her eyes were closed, as all her focus was on the spirits or constructs around them, and none on Katsu himself.
ICatsu dropped his defenses ever so slightly, in order to reach out with his magic. He contacted Aiko’s mind and she fell. The constructs vanished just as one tore through the sleeve on Katsu’s robe.
Yet one of the foxes remained. It looked at Katsu and then at the fallen Aiko.
“She sleeps only,” Katsu said to the Kitsune. “I will not harm her. You have my word.”
The fox spirit looked at Katsu, as if weighing the value of the Spider’s words. It walked to Aiko and nuzzled her slightly, before vanishing completely.
“Oh Shi-Tien Yen-Wang, may you be pleased by my performance in the Jade Championship,” Moto Yong Tai whispered to herself. She stood on the grounds of the testing field with her eyes closed, and spoke the prayer to her gods without a care for anything around her. “I humble myself in your eyes and seek to spread the word of the Lords of Death among these people.”
“Yong-Tai-san.” a gentle voice came from in front of her.
Yong -Tai Ignored the interruption and continued her prayer. “Though I will not spread your blessing onto my opponents, they will be affected nonetheless by your power. As your priestess, this I swear.”
Ujina Saionji waited for Yong-Tai to finish with an impatient gleam in his eyes. As a representative from the Hare minor clan, Saionji felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. What respect and power would his clan receive if he succeeded? With this thought at the forefront of his mind, Saionji felt raw and unsettled. If his opponent were praying to the kami, respected by all, he would have no issue with it. After all, they were all priests here. However, he knew the strange Unicorn woman was giving tribute to gaijin gods. Though the Emperor had given them his sanction as Rokugani gods, he did not know how he felt about a prayer to these strange gods. He could not shake the impression she did It deliberately to keep him off guard.
Pity It was working so well, Saionji mused. He took in a deep breath and relaxed a little.
Finally, Yong Tai opened her eyes and stared at Saionji. She was a striking woman with a stare that seemed to penetrate into his soul. Still, Saionji was relieved to face this woman. Unlike many other Unicorn Clan shugenja, she did not wear outlandish barbarian clothing. Her silk purple kimono looked normal and her long hair was worn in a fashion that was acceptable, if not popular. The only things that set her apart from the rest of the Empire were several pieces of gaudy jewelry that hung on her robe.
“Yong-Tai-san,” Saionji said, “which style do you prefer?”
Yong-Tal looked at him strangely. “Are you familiar with Engaging the Wind?” Saionji frowned. “I have never heard of it before. Is that a Unicorn custom?”
“Yes,” Yong-Tal said flatly. “Choose whichever format you prefer. I have no further preference.”
Saionji rapidly began to list the pros and cons of each format In his head. The avatar form of dueling was taxing to uphold, but it was hard to know how well Unicorn shugenja could manipulate avatars. He would have little advantage from his own expertise.
In the end, the choice was simple.
“Let us settle this the way our ancestors did, centuries ago,” Saionji called out.
“My ancestors would not have settled for leaving any opponent alive, regardless of the stakes,” Yong-Tai replied. Her eyes were cold and devoid of emotion. “Do not presume to include them with your weak customs.”
Saionji briefly wondered if the Unicorn truly lacked social graces, or was trying to intentionally unsettle him. He set the thought aside and let the world stop around him. In his concentration, nothing existed but Yong-Tai and himself. They stood in silence, gauging the other’s abilities. Saionji allowed himself the luxury of a smile. Yong-Tars strength in the elemental kami was shockingly low. The little power she had was focused toward the water kami, the same as him, and thus provided no advantage to her. The match would be simple.
Yong-Tai went on the offensive first with an elementary globe of water that floated its way toward Saionji. Saionji raised his hand and forced his will into her spell. With a twist of the wrist and a prayer to the kami he changed the globe into shards of ice and reversed its direction. It flew towards the Unicorn with increased speed. Yong-Tai murmured under her breath and waved her hand. + A small wall of water rose to protect her, and the shards of ice dissipated harmlessly.
Salon)i began to chant loudly to the sky, letting Yong Tai and all the observers know what he was doing. Yong-Tai ran quickly to the side and began her own incantation. A column of water ap- , peared in the middle of the arena and Saionji’s voice grew louder. The symbol of water appeared in shining light in the middle of the column and pulsed with power. Yong-Tai abruptly stopped casting and shook her head. Salonji grinned; his spell was having Its effect. The Symbol of Water spell was hard to perform, even harder to cast on a summoned object, but it burned fear into all nearby. He would be surprised if Yong-Tal managed to finish any more spells.
To her credit, she immediately began the prayer for another spell. Salonji cut the air in front of him with his hand and shouted out a word, and the elemental kami gathering to do her bidding immediately disappeared. She began her chant once more and Salonji countered her spell as quickly. He grinned and raised his hand palm upwards in front of him.
“Fool,” Yong-Tal spat. “I am a priestess of the Lords of Death. Do you think this simple spell will horrify me?”
She spat out a sentence in a language he had never heard before. It was not the language of the }cam’, but a disk of water flew towards him in response. Salonji dropped his hand and dodged quickly. She continued to throw more disks in his direction and he barely avoided each attack. He was skilled at hunting the Shadowlands; this wasn’t maho. But what was it that would allow the Unicorn to instantly call upon the kami with such rapidity?
Salonji cursed himself as the obvious truth came to him. She was a Unicorn, and furthermore a disciple of a strange religion. Of course she would have other magical ways. He quickly raised a Castle of Water to buy him time from her relentless attacks. He had to somehow gain back the advantage. He grabbed a certain scroll from his scroll case and began to read out the prayer.
Yong-Tai’s eyes suddenly glowed white and she screamed into the air. It was a blood curdling sound, but Salon)i did not let it distract him from his prayer. If he finished the spell, a spirit of water would come to protect him, and it would be enough to defeat her. He held on to that thought as he watched his opponent from inside his watery castle.
she grasped one of the medallions that hung from her robe and said a single word in the gaijin language. Salonji could do noth ing but watch as a horse made of water charged into his barrier. It neighed loudly and the castle shattered into a million drops. It kicked its feet into his arms, throwing him to the ground. He let out a gasp as the air left his lungs.
Yong-Tai’s screams died down as she realized she had won the combat. Saionji grimaced on the ground. This would be the last time, he thought ruefully, he would underestimate a Unicorn.
As time drew closer to the duel between Yogo Rieko and Kitsu Ineko, the perfect weather made an abrupt change for the worse. Dark clouds rolled across the horizon, obscuring the rays of Lord Sun. Bystanders began to whisper and gossip, baseless speculation upon the weather. Everyone knew no one would dare attempt anything magical to skew the results at the prestigious Jade Championship, yet could it be mere coincidence that the weather would change just when one of the crafty Scorpion were up for a match? Not even the Scorpion would lack respect and honor for the event… yet people continued to whisper.
Yogo Rieko stepped out of her tent and smoothed the wrinkles out of her kimono. She made her way to the testing grounds with her head held high and walked past the rumormongers without a care for their insidious words. She reached her allotted spot in the arena and waited for her opponent. Her face, obscured by a simple mask that left her mouth and jaw uncovered, was serene and calm.
Few outside of the Scorpion Clan had ever heard of Rieko. She kept out of the courts and rarely traveled outside her own lands, so no one knew of her strengths or potential. Her opponent was another matter. Kitsu Ineko was a graduate of the Kitsu Shugenja school and a former student of the Council of Elemental Masters, including both the Master of Water and the Master of Fire. She had personally participated in several skirmishes with the neighboring Unicorn Clan, and her prowess in battle was well known throughout the region. She was a relatively quiet woman, but it was whispered that her skill at water magic was incredible to behold. Rieko was a mystery, but Ineko was a powerful, relentless shugenja. There was little doubt as to who would win.
Ineko entered the arena with silence, the same as her opponent, and the watchers hushed to await the match. Rieko and Ineko bowed to each other and began to prepare for the taxing rituals which would prove their strength. Finally, the two shugenja were ready, and they stepped forward to face each other.
Rieko murmured to Ineko in a voice that was quiet enough to avoid the ears of the spectators. “I have heard so many rumors of the Kitsu who boast such powerful magic. I hope that the match will not be a disappointment.”
Ineko’s expression did not waver. “I never disappoint, friend Scorpion.” She gestured slightly with her hand. “The nature of the match falls to you. Choose the format and let us be done with this.”
“I wonder if you will indulge me in a little experiment,” Rieko replied. She swept the hair out of her eyes and smiled at her opponent. “You are a skilled shugenja, and I have always wondered if this would be an interesting format. What say you to a mix of the traditional and the new, a match that will tax our skills and our stamina?”
“What manner of trickery is this?” Ineko demanded.
“We shall fight to first blood, as tradition dictates,” Rieko said. “I propose, however, that we also summon avatars of the elements and set them to duel. One of us will win when she draws blood or destroys the other’s avatar.”
Ineko frowned.
“You asked me to choose the format, and as you said, I am the weaker shugenja,” Rieko said. “Why do you worry?”
“So be it,” Ineko said. She raised her left hand into the air with no hesitation and began to murmur a prayer to the heavens. Her hands began to glow with an otherworldly light. In response the earth around her shook violently, and thick, brackish water erupted from the apparently dry soil. A giant golem of water and mud rose into the air. Its size was an amazing sight, towering above .1 every person present. It shielded Its master with its body and let loose a ferocious roar.
Rieko made no gesture and simply began to murmur her prayers to the kami. The air around her coalesced into a lithe dancer barely larger than Rieko herself. The transparent being , draped itself around the Scorpion. It opened its mouth and sang. a beautiful melody in the language of the kami.
Ineko raised her hand once more and pointed at Rieko. Immediately the combined elemental rose from its resting place and charged at the air spirit. The ground shook with each step it took. As the elemental drew closer and closer to the Scorpion, Ineko whispered another prayer to the kami. The ground rumbled and suddenly gave way under Rieko’s feet, forming a crevasse that dropped fifty feet into the ground. She leapt into the air. Her air spirit grabbed hold of its master and carried her to safety next to the fissure. Immediately it raised its hand to guard itself from the mighty swing of the earth golem.
The giant and the wisp began their fight. The elemental giant struck with tremendous power behind each blow, and the air spirit danced around its fist. Each blow and each dodge taxed the stamina of the shugenja as they struggled to keep up the strength of their avatars. Rieko summoned a gust of wind from the heavens that slammed toward its target with the force of a thousand knives. Ineko quickly summoned a shield of earth that covered every inch of her body. Once the Scorpion’s wind passed, Ineko retaliated, calling forth a ball of raw earth and throwing it toward Rieko. As soon as it drew close to her, it shattered In a giant explosion but Rieko was no longer there. She had called the air kami to her and cloaked herself from Ineko’s eyes.
Ineko could feel her heart racing and felt sweat drip down her brow. She had never tried to manipulate an avatar and maintain other spells at the same time before. She was beginning to regret letting herself be goaded into this fight. Rleko’s air elemental did not bother to attack and simply moved out of the earth elemental’s way. Ineko knew she could not maintain the strain of so many prayers much longer. She had to finish the fight, or she would lose.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her opponent. She had finally let down her guard! Ineko turned to face Rieko and raised her hand. Before she could cast her final spell, she felt a sharp pain spike in her leg. Immediately, her concentration was broken. Her golem collapsed upon itself, returning to nothing more than its components.
Ineko fell to the ground in a heap. When she gathered her composure, she looked up. Rieko stood in front of her with a satisfied smile on her face. A yari of air shimmered in her hands. Nearby, the vision of Rieko faded away.
An Illusion,” Ineko said. She shook her head in disgust
“A good match,” Rieko said. “Next time, Ineko-san… you should beware of walking directly into a Scorpion’s trap.”
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as the first day of the Championship came to a close. The final match of the day was beginning, but no one had yet departed the tournament grounds. Even those most interested in warming the winter chill with sake and noodles stood rapt with attention as the last two competitors took to the ring. Among the ranks of the Jade competitors, these two were unique, loved and feared as those who commanded power such as theirs surely must be.
Asahina Nizomi stepped into the circle, bowing in the direction of the judges as he did so. Despite his youth, the man appeared older and weathered, doubtless the result of his years spent as a principle agent of his former daimyo, Asahina Sekawa. As a Jade Magistrate, he was known to have been among the most vicious opponents of the Bloodspeaker cult. Still, it was not his deeds that drew the wonder of the crowd, but his lineage: Nizomi was known by many to be the son of the enigmatic Naka Tokei, who bore the title Grandmaster of the Elements. This perception was not entirely accurate, but Nizomi had given up attempting to correct it. The truth was simply too complex and too alien for most to grasp.
Less enigmatic In her lineage, but no less well known, Agasha Tomioko stepped into the ritual circle opposite Nizomi. She bowed to the judges, then to Nizomi, who returned the gesture. Tomioko was the only shugenja In recent memory to rise to the position of Commander of an Imperial Legion. Her leadership of the Fifth Legion was nearly unprecedented in history, and was exceeded in oddity only by Togashi Suguhara, the monk who commanded the Tenth Legion.
“It is a great honor to meet someone of your reputation,” Tomioko said, holding her bow longer than was traditional. “I regret only that our first meeting must be one where we face one another in such a manner.”
“We each have our duties,” Nizomi answered. “We have defended the cause of purity and honor in the past, but now, we must represent our clans as best we are able. Would you not agree?”
“I would,” Tomioko said. “I simply regret it is necessary.”
“As do I,” Nizomi said. “There would be no loss of face if you wished to surrender, of course.”
“That will not happen,” Tomioko said. “I will not insult you by extending the same offer, however.”
“Very well,” Nizomi said, inclining his head. “Shall we begin?”
Tomioko nodded. The Crane performed a quick martial arts kata and punched forward, opening his fist to extend palm outward at the last possible moment. A column of air, white with frost, coalesced and continued the path of his strike, tearing across the ring toward Tomioko’s side with an audible roar like hurricane winds. The crowd gasped as the temperature around the ring dropped noticeably.
The Phoenix commander held both hands aloft as if to shield herself. The torrent of air struck her hands and blossomed outward, scattering in every direction as a shower of gravel and soil.
so Nizomi frowned at the ease with which she had turned his attack away. “Impressive.”
You are accustomed to fighting Bloodspeakers and maho-tuskai,” Tomioko cautioned. “Men who train in secret and have few resources. I have neither restriction, and I will not be so easily defeated.”
“We shall see,” Nizomi said. He summoned a billowing cloud and stepped into it. The kami buoyed him above the ring, granting him the advantage of higher ground. He began casting wave after wave of tearing, buffeting winds toward his opponent. She turned them away one after the other, although not as easily as the first. After a moment a column of earth rose beneath her, placing the two on equal footing, and she began to return his attacks, with huge stones and stalagmites jutting in his direction.
Nizomi turned the attacks away, but it was not as simple as he would have thought. He redoubled his efforts, but to his dismay he found that the Tomioko was equal to the task. Nizomi could not recall the last time he had faced a true shugenja in battle. What Tomioko had said was largely true: he was accustomed to combating desperate, secretive men who relied upon the blasphemy of blood sorcery to overcome their opponents. Against someone prepared for his spells, they were hardly an obstacle of any sort.
“You are holding back!” Tomioko said, her disappointment evident. “Why?”
She was correct. There was a part of Nizomi’s soul, the deepest, most remote portion, the portion forever linked to his “father” Naka Tokei, that he did not draw upon. He had never done so, primarily because he had never needed to do so. He knew now that he could draw upon that inner reservoir of power, perhaps even enough to defeat this most valorous of opponents. But should he?
“Show me!” Tomioko shouted. “Show me what you are truly capable of!”
And that was precisely what Nizomi feared. He had never truly known what he was capable of. The deepest portion of his soul was not truly his; it was a fragment of Naka Tokei’s soul, harvested from him during his travels in the realms beyond the mortal world, and shaped into a new life. Those who wished to hinder Tokei had convinced him that the fragment was either all that was good or all ‘ that was evil within him, and there had been much concern over Nizomi’s fate as a child. The truth had dispelled those lies, but in his heart Nizomi still feared he might have some kernel of evil at the center of his being. Would he risk unleashing that in order to achieve victory?
No, he would not.
With a heavy heart, Nizomi dispelled his defenses and waited for Tomioko’s victorious strike to draw first blood.
The interior of the Crab tent was neither spacious nor elegant, but it served the needs of those who utilized it perfectly well. At the moment, the tent contained very little, and the only object in use was a small table, at which two shugenja sat quietly. The tea they drank was a dark, bitter blend, one popular virtually nowhere outside the Crab lands.
“Ochiyo was defeated,” Kuni Kiyoshi said as he sipped his
tea.
Kuni Tansho nodded. “Tamori Wotan is a powerful enemy. Even in the Crab lands there are tales of his victory at Kitsuki Pass. There is no shame in an honorable defeat at the hands of an opponent such as him.”
“Perhaps not,” Kiyoshi said bitterly, “but there arc now but two Crab remaining in the tournament. It falls to us to defend our Clan’s honor.”
“We are not atop the Wall now,” Tansho cautioned her younger companion. “This is the one great failing of the Crab sense of duty. We all believe that defeat of any sort is tantamount to complete and utter failure.”
“Is it not?” Kiyoshi said. “It is the honor of our family and clan we defend today.”
“You witnessed the match between the Kitsu and Horiuchi daimyo, did you not?”
Kiyoshi frowned. “I did.”
Tansho poured another cup of tea. “And what was your assessment of Horiuchi Shem-Zhe?”
“He was impressive,” Kiyoshi grunted. “I did not expect much of a Horiuchi, but he fought with skill and tenacity.”
“He was defeated, but not disgraced,” Tansho said. “The same is true of all who compete here. One can only disgrace oneself, it cannot be done by another.”
Kiyoshi frowned again. “I will try to remember that.”
Tansho smiled. “You are the closest that Utagu and I ever had to a son,” she said softly. “I chose wisely when I chose you to re.. place me when I stepped down. My retirement will come soon, and I will rest easily knowing the Kuni are in the hands of someone I trust.”
The younger man bowed his head. “Thank you, my lady.”
All the same,” she said, raising one eyebrow, “you should certainly win.”
Kiyoshi grinned.
Tamori Shiki cursed to himself as he scaled the jagged rocks. There was barely even a hill for miles in any direction, and yet his quarry had found this lone, extremely inconvenient location in which to secret herself. It was typical. “Noriko!” he shouted again, hoping she might answer. “Tamori Noriko!”
There was no answer, of course.
Shiki’s profane internal monologue took on a more insistent tone as he climbed the last fifteen feet to what might jokingly be referred to as the summit. This particular outcropping was not especially tall, but it was certainly inconvenient. And of course, atop it all, Tamori Noriko sat in meditation. “Noriko!” he snarled. 1 have been calling you for twenty minutes!”
“Yes,” she said, without opening her eyes. “It was most disruptive to my meditation.”
“I came to tell you that your next match begins in one hour,” Shiki said, still obviously a bit winded. “Unfortunately, it has taken me nearly that long to find you. You have but minutes before your match begins.”
I see.” Noriko finally opened her eyes and rose gracefully to her feet from the lotus position. “I suppose I must make my way to the tournament circle, then.”
“That would be wise,” Shiki said. “You go forth to represent the entire family.”
“The entire family?” Noriko raised an eyebrow. “Then who do
you represent? Or Wotan? Who can claim the victory he earned earlier?”
“If I were interested in riddles and word games,” Shiki said, forcing himself to remain patient, “I suppose I would have tracked down a Togashi rather than remind you of a duty you should have remembered in the first place, would I not?”
“I imagine you would have,” Noriko said. A small platform of stone materialized even as she took a step that should have plummeted her into the void. “Remain here and contemplate the matter. , I am certain you will find the answer you seek.”
Shiki watched as Noriko descended to the tournament grounds. “I really do despise that woman,” he muttered under his breath.
Kiyoshi said nothing as the match began, and neither did Noriko. She could sense the power within her opponent, as well as his conflicted jumble of emotions. He was intent on victory, somewhat uncertain of himself, and generally distracted by a variety of other factors besides the impending match. His defeat should be a simple matter.
Noriko had no wish to harm another samurai unnecessarily. She summoned a wave of earth to cross the circle and strike him down. His pride would be hurt, certainly, but he would not be seriously injured. She spoke to the earth kami and had them form several waves that rode together in the appearance of one. Distracted as he was, Kiyoshi would offer but a single defense, and at least one of her kami allies would doubtless reach beyond his shield. The match would be over shortly.
Her opening salvo rippled across the frost-covered earth toward Kiyoshi. His focus never wavered, and he made no overt movements. Nevertheless, the waves within one wave shattered and scattered in every direction. Noriko could feel the kami fleeing at his command, and she gasped at the enormity of power she felt emanating within him. It was as if she had first sensed a glowing ember, and now it had suddenly roared into life as a blazing wildfire.
Multiple forms rose from the earth, taking the shape of crude warriors. Each moved with the grace of a practiced soldier. Still, Kiyoshi had not moved. He had not spoken or even so much as shown effort on his features. Noriko had never sensed such certainty. such absolute, unwavering strength. She had communed with the spirit of the mountains, and she knew that this man, this Crab, was made of the stuff of mountains himself.
Noriko suddenly dropped from her stance and bowed deeply. “I concede the match,” she said quietly. “I have no wish to stand against you, my lord. I bow to your superior command of the elements.”
Tamorl Noriko turned and left the ring, and at last there was some reaction from Kiyoshi.
Even if it was only confusion.