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by Shawn Carman
Shinjo Sanenari tugged the wrappings away from his face as the winds subsided. He loathed the feeling of cloth against the flesh of his face; it was so confining that he could scarcely tolerate it. Nor was he a tremendous fan of lengthy travel, and he had never before left the Empire until this particular journey. To say that it had not been enjoyable would be an understatement of spectacular magnitude.
One last time, Sanenari glanced over his shoulder into the dim, colorless region from which the caravan had finally, mercifully, emerged. It was called the Western Wastes, or at least it always had been called such by the Unicorn Clan, and as far as Sanenari knew, no Imperial cartographer had ever assigned it anything more regal. It certainly did not deserve a proper name, for it was a horrid, wretched place, but it was the only path from the Emerald Empire to the Colonies, and thus the Unicorn maintained a regular schedule of caravans traversing the distance between Outsider Keep and the Second City.
Sanenari struggled not to think of the strange warriors he and the others had fought during this particular trip. They were a mysterious lot, hailing from all different cultures and locations, by the nature of their attire. They plagued the caravans from time to time, but their nature had never truly been discerned. The Unicorn Clan Champion had decreed that they were not to be studied, but rather that they and all their trappings were to be incinerated after defeat. Sanenari saw to it that the Champion’s will was fulfilled.
In the distance, the Second City loomed. Carved from the wilderness over the course of two decades, constructed using the greatest styles and secrets of architecture from all the Great Clans. It was a metropolis, greater than anything in the Empire other than perhaps the Imperial City or Ryoko Owari Toshi, and its construction was orderly. There was no chaos to its layout, no substandard quarters with shoddy construction. It was, even from this distance, a marvel to behold.
It was at the behest of his older brother, a man who now bore the name Otomo, that Sanenari had come to the Colonies. There was important business among the Imperial families, but few of those powerful men and women had any taste for travel, even less than he himself did. So he had been sent in their stead. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small price to pay for the benefits of the association he enjoyed, but it was annoying all the same. Or it had been, until he had seen the Second City. Now he thought perhaps there might be benefits to be had here.
Sanenori smiled and spurred his horse forward.
