The Conclusion, Part 6

The Conclusion, Part 6
By Shawn Carman

The twenty-first day of the Month of the Dog, year 1170
On the twentieth day of the Dog, the final round of the Celestial Tournament at Seppun Hill had been conducted under the watchful eye of the Voice of the Jade Sun and the Voice of the Obsidian Moon. On that day, a relatively unknown Unicorn samurai had emerged victorious, and had assumed the position of Favored of the Heavens, an illustrious title with unknown connotations. At the conclusion of the tournament, the Heavens’ Voices had instructed those assembled to return to their homes, shrines, and temples, for the final judgment of the Heavens was at hand.

At dawn the next day, thousands were sitting in prayer and meditation, solemnly fulfilling the will of Tengoku as they had been instructed. As one, they opened their eyes. Those who had assembled in groups looked to one another and, wordlessly, they rose and walked toward Seppun Hill.

The hour of judgment had come. As the faithful thousands gathered around the base of the hill, the impassive forms of the Voice of the Jade Sun and the Voice of the Obsidian Moon appeared atop it, simply manifesting with the brilliant rays of the morning sun.

“The eyes of the Heavens have been upon mankind for longer than you know,” the Voice of the Jade Sun said. “They have seen the arrogance and the presumption of men, and have found them wanting. The time for this has passed. The children of men shall rule the Empire no longer. A child of the Heavens must reign, or all is lost.”

“As the men and women of the Great Clans stood in competition,” the Voice of the Obsidian Moon added, her words winding through the crowd like a silken ribbon, entrancing all who heard them, “all who stood for their clan were judged. All were weighed against the ideals established during the dawn of the Empire, then the devotion of men to the Heavens was as it always should have been.”

“Among those who traveled here to seek the favor of Tengoku, one clan has emerged above all others. A clan of virtue and honor. A clan worthy of the duty of placing a ruler upon the throne for the next one thousand years.”

The silence was absolute and unbroken.

“Representatives of the Dragon Clan,” the Moon’s Voice said. “Step forward.”

A half dozen samurai, those chosen to represent the clan at the tournament, stepped forward and knelt, uncertain as to what would be asked of them. “One among you shall reign above all men,” the Sun’s Voice said. “Whom shall it be?”

“My lords,” Togashi Satsu said. “If I may, we cannot make such a choice. You who are empowered by the Heavens beyond that which any mortal has ever known, you who perceive the measure of every man’s soul and weigh the virtue within it& you must choose. It is above my station to ask anything of such as you, my lords, but I must ask it all the same: please, choose from among the Dragon the most worthy and virtuous, and exalt them above all.”

“The Heavens are pleased,” the Moon’s Voice said. “Togashi Satsu exhibits the wisdom of the Kami in his words.”

“The Jade Sun and the Obsidian Moon, in their limitless mercy and wisdom, grant your request,” the Voice of the Sun said. “Kitsuki Iweko, step forward.”

The daimyo of the Kitsuki family rose from where she knelt, all color drained from her face. She glanced at Satsu, a questioning look on her face. “This is the hour of your destiny,” the Dragon Champion said. “Embrace it without regret. I have known you all of our lives. Nothing could surprise me less than your selection. Go.”

Slowly, Iweko ascended the hill and knelt before the Voices of the Heavens. “Kitsuki Iweko,” the Moon’s Voice asked, “are you worthy of this honor?”

“No,” she answered at once. “I am not.”

“None are,” the Sun’s Voice agreed. “And yet you who are virtually without fault and without failure, you who have lived an entire lifetime exemplifying that which the Heavens demand of those who serve them, are first among millions.” He extended his hand, which was wreathed in jade fire. “Accept the blessing of the Jade Sun, Kitsuki Iweko.”

The Moon’s Voice likewise extended her hand, cloaked in swirling shadow. “Accept the blessing of the Obsidian Moon, Iweko-san.”

Iweko hesitated only a moment, and then reached out and took both hands at the same instant.

The clouds above Seppun Hill parted, and the radiance of Tengoku shone down upon the mortal realm. Those in attendance could not bear the brilliance of it, and had to look away. There was a roaring sound, a single note of pristine perfection that all there heard not with their ears, but resounding within their soul, and none could question that the Heavens were present in that one, perfect instant.

The sound faded, and the brilliance waned. Those in attendance looked back to the Hill. There, Iweko stood between the Voices, her posture perfect, her manner irrevocably and inexplicably changed. Her eyes, brown only a moment before, were a brilliant blue that none had ever seen save in the majesty of the sky, and she looked upon her subjects with favor.

The Voices of the Sun and Moon knelt before her. “All hail the Divine Emperor, Child of the Heavens,” the Voice of the Sun commanded.

“All hail Empress Iweko the First,” the Moon’s Voice added.

As one, without a word, the thousands in attendance knelt before their Empress.

* * *

The tent was small and somewhat threadbare. There were no guards posted, and nothing drew attention to it or its contents in any way. It was exactly like a hundred others, and as such offered the comfort of anonymity. It was a simple matter to conclude that nothing had drawn any attention to it from the moment it has been pitched, until right now.

Satsu ignored the awed looks of others and swept aside the flap that covered the tent’s entrance. He felt an uncharacteristic sensation welling in his chest, and he knew that it was anger. So much of his life had been spent in pursuit of serenity and balance that there were times he had difficulty controlling the onset of strong emotion. Fortunately the past few months had given him ample opportunity to forge his will into a thing of steel. He would need that strength now.

The young man in the tent was sitting at a small, battered writing desk. He glanced up as Satsu entered, his eyes widening only for the briefest of seconds before his obvious control over himself was re-exerted. “Togashi Satsu,” the man said, bowing so deeply that his forehead touched the surface of the desk at which he sat. “This is a great honor.”

“I come to bear the words of my Empress,” Satsu said quietly. “It would be in your best interest to remain silent unless questioned.”

The ronin called Susumu opened his mouth, then shut it again at once and smiled, nodding his head deferentially.

“You were a witness to the proclamation of the Voices of the Heavens,” Satsu said, “and the subsequent ritual of ascendance, correct?”

“I was,” Susumu confirmed.

“Then you witnessed an event unprecedented in our lifetimes,” Satsu said. “You witnessed the transcendence of Kitsuki Iweko to the Divine Empress. You witnessed the essence of the Heavens mingling with a human soul, if only for a moment.”

“I did,” Susumu said. “It was& glorious.”

“It was more than that. It was miraculous. In that instant, the Empress was granted insights no mortal has ever known. Truths were given to her, truths about many things. Including the Spider Clan.”

Susumu frowned. “I am afraid I do not know what you mean.”

“Your lies mean nothing to me,” Satsu said. “Continue to debase yourself with them if you like, but I will not justify them. The Empress is aware of your actions, your plans, and those whom you serve, Daigotsu Susumu. All is known to her.”

The courtier said nothing at first. “Strange for the Empress to send her Voice as an assassin. Why not a Shogun instead?”

Satsu’s expression did not change, but it required a colossal effort of will. “I would have been overjoyed if my Empress had given me the honor of claiming your life,” he said. “It would have been a tiny measure of justice for a great many lives worth far more than your own. Sadly that is not my task, although I will pray fervently every day that the Empress will one day choose me for such an honor.”

Susumu had paled visibly. “What is it you want, then?”

“Why do you serve Daigotsu?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Answer the question,” Satsu insisted. “I was told to measure your response.”

Susumu sat for a moment. “Very well,” he finally said. “I serve Daigotsu because he is strength, and will, and focus. He rewards strength where others reward only sycophancy. In his service, I reap the reward for my successes, and my failures are mine alone to bear.” He paused. “And I worship a god whose blessings are not given and taken away without rhyme or reason. Samurai are meant to have faith in their lord and in their gods. What need have I of faith? I have proof that I carry their favor.”

Satsu’s jaw muscles tightened visibly, but he did not react outwardly. “You do not bear the mark of Jigoku on your soul.”

“I do not,” Susumu said proudly. “I do not need it to serve my lord. My strengths are enough.”

“So be it,” Satsu said. “The Empress has seen the truth of your Spider Clan,’ and finds it an abomination. From this day forward, none may bear your symbol on pain of death. The Shogun’s forces will move upon your strongholds in the Shinomen Mori, the ruins of Otosan Uchi, and everywhere else your poison has taken root. Those whom your master has bound to his will within the ranks of the Great Clans shall be rooted out and destroyed by the Emerald and Jade Champions. All your works shall be undone. You will send this word back to your master before returning to the Empress’ side.”

Susumu’s expression was one of abject confusion. “The Empress’ side? Do you expect me to throw myself upon my sword? You cannot be so foolish.”

“Only souls with honor can be expected to take their own lives. None would expect such a thing of you,” Satsu said scornfully. “And yet, for all your sins, you serve your master and your god loyally. You understand duty, and piety. You and those like you deceived an entire Empire. Your insight, your observations, will be unlike any of those who serve the Great Clans. For this reason, and because the Empress desires to maintain knowledge of your master at all times, you shall remain at her side in the Imperial Court.” He paused, his face twisting in distaste ever so slightly. “As the Imperial Advisor.”

“The Imperial Advisor?” Susumu’s expression could surely have not contained more shock if he had himself been declare the Emperor of Rokugan. “Your Empress must be mad. If the Great Clans learn the truth behind the Spider, and find one at her side.”

“The truth shall not be known,” Satsu said. “To do so would tear the clans apart, and what they require most now is unity. No, the truth shall remain hidden for now, for the good of the Empire. Send word, however, that all those who bear the mark of Jigoku shall be killed at once wherever they are encountered. Only those like yourself, those who are without the Shadowlands’ influence on their bodies and souls, shall have the opportunity to earn the Empress’ forgiveness. You shall be the messenger from the Vassal of the Heavens to those who have embraced the path of the Fallen Kami. Do you understand?”

“No,” Susumu said at once. “But I shall obey all the same.”

* * *

On the twenty-second day of the Dog, in the year 1170, the Empress of Rokugan and her advisors, protected by one thousand Seppun guardsmen, departed from Seppun Hill and began the journey to the Imperial Palace in Toshi Ranbo. More than ten thousand gathered to witness the departure of her palanquin, and the entire road from the beginning of her journey to the end was surrounded on all sides by joyous denizens of the Empire, praising her name and weeping for joy at the ascendance of a new Imperial Dynasty.

In the year 1170 by the Isawa calendar, the Age of Man was ended.

The Reign of the Divine Empress had begun.