Pilgrim 4, p.21
Pilgrim 4, page 21
****
Privacy was important to Danzen, and he was given plenty of it over the next several hours as he bent his echo in a spare room, one that had also been used for storage by one of Kunta’s relatives. It was a tight space, but that was fine with Danzen. There was a bed, enough room for him to move, and an additional exit through a shuttered window if he needed to leave quickly.
Kunta’s son brought Danzen bread with strips of meat laid out on top of it around lunchtime, the former assassin eating what he had been given because it was hot, and saving the meal that he’d had arranged at the inn back in Bahlingar for later.
He began contemplating how he would approach the mountains, since the range was quite expansive. This got him wondering how difficult it would be to actually find Ginza, and he hoped this wasn’t part of the challenge that his brother had laid out. There was also an issue with the number of items that he currently possessed, his bag and field diary, Blade of Darkness, even Nomin’s replica sword, not to mention his spare robes and other items that he kept, like a spool of tweed and his firestarter.
He would need full mobility for his encounter, Danzen was certain of this. His glaive could get in the way, and he wasn’t certain if it would actually help or not. He also didn’t want to leave it behind if he had to flee.
Danzen recalled a shrine between Arsi and the mountains, one that had numerous stupas surrounding it. It was a quaint place, and there would certainly be an abbot there. He could have the man look after his weapons after using his Demon Speak power. There was also the option of leaving whatever he decided not to bring with him behind at Kunta’s, but he was wary of doing so, especially with the patrons that frequented his business. Even using his Demon Speak on Kunta and his son didn’t necessarily entail that someone else wouldn’t see Danzen’s items, or discover them at some point.
It was best to leave them off the beaten track.
He napped that afternoon, the former assassin seated with his head against the wall, the window slightly open to let in a breeze. Sansar checked in around the time that he woke up, the three-legged raven curiously listening as Danzen relayed his plan.
“I would say to go as light as you possibly can,” Sansar advised. “There’s always the option of fleeing to get a different weapon as well. Once we are closer, perhaps I’ll be able to fly ahead and get a perspective for you.”
Danzen hadn’t considered this. With the yatagarasu with him, finding Ginza would be much easier. “I believe that would work.”
It was pushing past suppertime when Danzen joined Kunta back in his showroom. The blacksmith was breathing a little heavier than normal, his brow covered in sweat, blackened grit smeared across his muscled forearms. Danzen’s gauntleted blades were set out on the counter, looking clean and polished, as was Nomin’s replica sword, now in its sheath.
“I was able to work on these ones quite a bit,” Kunta told Danzen he motioned toward the gauntleted weapons. He retrieved a soiled rag from the front pocket of his apron and wiped his head. “Oof. It’s hot in there today. Anyway, as I was saying, they are in great shape, just needed a bit of work. They were already sharp as hell before, weren’t they?”
Danzen nodded.
“Then they will be sharper now. While they don’t have a remnant in them—not that I could tell anyway, but I didn’t take apart the whole contraption—they were definitely forged with the help of one. I had to use my special sharpening stone for them, which I only use on remnant-based weapons. I could always take a look at that other sword of yours…” He glanced down to Astra.
Danzen placed his hand on the hilt of his famed blade. “Would it take you much longer?”
Kunta shrugged. “I already have all the supplies out, and I dealt with your gauntleted blades last, so no, it wouldn’t. To be honest with you, I spent most of the day trying to understand the metal that was used to forge this one.” He gestured toward the basket-hilted weapon. “It’s unlike any metal I have ever come across, and mind you, I’ve not forged a remnant myself, but I have been around those types of weapons before. This is nothing like that. It is a different kind of metal, some alloy that I’ve never seen used before. Have you played around with it any?”
“Not really.”
“It is remarkably sharp. Let me show you what I mean.” As if he had been preparing for the demonstration all along, Kunta took the sword over to his stone that he had set out on another wooden countertop. His son appeared about this time, wide-eyed as he watched his father carve the stone as if it were a potato.
“That’s sharp, Pa…”
“It is,” Kunta told his son as he returned his focus to Danzen. “See what I mean?”
“I was unaware it could do something like that,” said Danzen, knowing that even Astra didn’t have the type of sharpness that would allow it to simply peel back the layers of the stone. If he threw Astra and it had some momentum, he could definitely pierce a stone wall, or something of the sort, but not simply cut shavings off it.
“I wasn’t able to do anything with it, but maybe it’s something that will help you at some point during your journey. I don’t know. Anyway, it’s sharp. And your other sword, do you want me to take a look?”
“I suppose.”
Danzen joined Kunta as he delicately worked on Astra, the former assassin wary of letting anyone handle his famed blade. But the blacksmith treated it with great care, and in the end it was sharper than it had been before. It was later that night now, the moon with a slight hint of yellow to it, signaling to Danzen that it was time to go.
He did so unceremoniously, first thanking Kunta and his son for hosting him, and then wiping them of any memory that they would have of his visit. He left through the back door and stayed in the shadows, each step calculated.
Danzen kept his guard up until he reached the outer limits of the city, which was surrounded by fields, many of them rolling to the east toward Tudan. Keeping on the road, and very cognizant of his surroundings, Danzen weaved through the late evening, traveling for an hour or so at a heightened pace before finally moving to his fastest speed, the former assassin running and leaping when need be, sending himself up into the air over large distances, and always coming back down softly.
He reached the shrine outside of Arsi to find that the lights were on inside. There were a few carriages parked in front, which indicated that there would be several guests, a ceremony of sorts taking place.
Danzen approached the back door of the shrine, one made of wood and painted in a maroon color with gold detailing. Sansar landed on the rooftop above.
“I’m leaving some things here, as we discussed,” Danzen told the raven.
“Shall I fly ahead? The mountains aren’t very far from here.”
“Yes. I’ll keep to the road after I’ve finished.”
“Very well. Good luck.”
Danzen entered through the back door to find an abbot crouched on the ground, the man arranging some offerings on a plate. He could hear chants in the main room of the shrine, the smell of incense in the air, an energy about the place likely because of the remnant it held. The shrine was protected by the city of Arsi, and the remnant that was kept locked in the place was probably not worth the trouble of stealing it.
Before the man could speak, Danzen told him what he wanted him to do. He asked for a private place to hide his things, one that would not be bothered or noticed by others.
“Yes, my lord…”
Enchanted by his Demon Speak power, the abbot led Danzen down the hallway, and opened up a hidden storage closet that was flush with the wall.
“And it will be safe in here?”
“No one knows about this space,” the bald-headed abbot assured him.
Danzen placed his Blade of Darkness, his satchel, and Nomin’s replica blade at the back of the closet. While her weapon was able to peel a rock, he didn’t see how this would be helpful to him in the fight that he knew was to come.
He would later come to regret this decision.
Danzen left the shrine and continued toward the mountains.
As always, he kept a low profile, the only person seeing him being the abbot, Danzen sure to pay close attention to his surroundings and keep his presence at a minimum. He remained this way, the mountains in the distance growing larger, the fields around him high and thick, abandoned farms, the occasional scarecrow, the rolling hills—true quiet. He knew if he continued this direction for several days he would be in a desert, and from there the coast, Danzen at once familiar with his surroundings. He even recognized the abbot back at the shrine, having assisted around the grounds for a spell over a year ago.
Everything felt familiar, and then it didn’t.
Danzen should have sensed the presence. But he was dealing with a true demonic being, one much stronger than he could have ever fathomed.
Whoomph!
The shoulder from nowhere sent Danzen flying to the side, where he was barely able to land on his feet and catch his first glimpse of an opponent he would come to hate.
Ginza had porcelain-colored skin that was covered in gray splotches, razor-sharp teeth and a white beard, his hair long and pulled up into a bun tied off by a green ribbon. He was shirtless and wore a thick belt covered in metal charms, bits of leather and fur hanging from it.
Then there were his eyes, three of them, one in the center of his skull, the other two crowding around a snout that was more lion than human.
Danzen sent Astra whistling through the air, aimed at Ginza’s throat, hoping that there was some chance he could end this quickly. Ginza sidestepped the boomerang sword, and much to Danzen’s surprise, he plucked it out of the air, holding the weapon by its grip.
“Heh.”
Danzen watched in horror as Astra tried to frantically return to his hand, as Ginza placed his clawed fingers on the other side of the blade and snapped it over his knee.
He dropped the broken sword to the ground, what was left of Astra quivering as Ginza exploded toward Danzen. The impact was unlike any hit he could remember taking, everything going black around him, Danzen finished for good.
.Chapter Four.
Chaos swelled within Danzen. He could feel his demons tearing into him, portals opening up all around him, the former assassin frightened to the point that he was running, stumbling, and falling.
He blinked his eyes awake. Danzen tried to move until he noticed that something was holding him back, a chain wrapped around his neck, one that was bound around both his arms and tethered to hooks that had been hammered into a wall of rock. The more he moved, the more the chain choked him. Not only that, the chain was clearly forged by a remnant, Danzen feeling its power.
“So, you’re awake.”
Ginza was crouched before Danzen, his three reddish eyes locked on the former assassin, yellowed canines visible even with his mouth closed. He had a cold and calculating voice, one that sent a chill down Danzen’s spine, Ginza’s eerie calm equally unsettling.
“Release me…” Danzen growled, seconds away from summoning his gauntleted blades. He decided not to. These were supposed to be a backup plan, a last resort. As his vision continued to blur into focus, he recalled what Ginza had done to his sword, Astra, his favorite weapon. He had completely destroyed it.
Fury boiled in Danzen, one that spurred him into action. He tried to shoot forward, the chain choking him to the point that he could no longer breathe. Not only that, the way he was strung up forced him to remain standing, Danzen’s knees feeling weak. He couldn’t rest on the ground; he could only hang there, and choke himself if he tried to move closer to Ginza.
It was a while before the intimidating man spoke again. “You are nothing to me.”
“You… you don’t know me…”
Ginza looked up at him, hatred in his three eyes. “But I know freedom. I know what it means to be free from the depths of Diyu. Your brother and your father. Do not think that I am done with either of them. I will kill you slowly, and once Nomtoi expresses that he is happy with the results, I will kill him, and then your father.”
“He’s not going to let you. You would be a fool to actually believe Nomtoi. Whatever happens to me, he will trick you in the end.”
Ginza stood, a few strands of his white hair falling into his face as he approached Danzen. He was a full head taller than the former assassin, more muscular as well. To bring Danzen to eye level, he wrapped his huge hand around Danzen’s neck, the former assassin feeling Ginza clench his fingers under his jaw.
“You are nothing. You are not even worth my time.” Once again, Danzen got the urge to summon his gauntleted blades. What would he do then? He wouldn’t be able to cut through a chain forged by a remnant, and he was strung up in a way that would prevent him from actually taking a swing at Ginza.
But there was always his feet.
Danzen sent his knee forward with as much power as he could conjure, slamming it into Ginza’s sternum.
The demonic being dropped him, took a step back, his face contorted with anger as he bared his teeth. “You dare?” He got in Danzen’s face. “You dare!?”
Danzen tried to kick at him with both legs. Ginza caught one of his ankles and snapped his left leg at the shin. The pain was instant, Danzen dipping forward, a mixture of hate and adrenaline coursing through him, his left leg splayed off to the side.
It would heal, but he’d have to put pressure on the leg while it did, which was something he was already doing as Ginza approached yet again.
Gritting his teeth, Danzen opened his mouth and bit down on his lip as hard as he could, drawing blood. The portals began to open up.
Ginza stepped back and watched it all take place. “Yes…” he said, in a tone of slight amusement. “When you draw blood, your demons come, don’t they?”
The demons crawling out of the portals began to cower away from Ginza as he approached them. He grabbed one and slammed it headfirst into the rock, killing the hellspawn. Another one of Danzen’s demons jumped for him. Ginza caught this one by the throat and quickly kneeled, slamming its neck onto the back of his knee and killing it.
One of them started to take off, Danzen not yet aware of where they were. They were in some sort of cave, Danzen able to sense a breeze nearby, which meant it wasn’t far from the exit.
Grabbing a rock, Ginza hurled it at the hellspawn, the stone smashing into the back of its head and killing it.
As blood dripped down Danzen’s lip, Ginza killed the rest of his demons without breaking a sweat, no fear, his actions defined by mild annoyance.
“Want to try that again?” he asked as he approached Danzen, the demonic being sending a swath of his white hair behind one of his pointed ears. “We can do this all night.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I haven’t decided. For now, I would like you to suffer. Did you come alone?”
Danzen nodded, even though it pained him to do so.
“I figured you would.” Ginza squeezed his hand around Danzen’s neck again and lifted him. “You and I have something in common. I’m sure you have been ostracized and shunned because of your half-blooded nature. I know I have. But I’ve also had hundreds and hundreds of years to think about it, to accept who I am, and to meticulously plan out my revenge if I ever was freed.”
Ginza began tightening his hand around Danzen’s neck.
“And now, I am free. And the world will know my wrath…”
Things began to go black again, Ginza’s grip tightening even further, Danzen no longer able to breathe.
“And not only the world, Diyu, and your entire bloodline starting with you. I’m going to make this as slow and painful as I possibly can, son of Tengir. I hope you can find a way to enjoy it.”
****
Darkness. Memories of looking up at the steps of the Diyu Brotherhood, the end no longer in sight. A great fog. One foot after the other, Danzen climbed until he could no longer walk, on his hands and knees now as he crawled forward. Three-legged ravens circled overhead, Onuma and Mayji slinking over to him, their heads starting to crack open as their jaws distended, tears of blood streaming down their face.
A bolt of lightning struck Danzen. He fell to his knees, arms at his side, muscles pulsing. The lightning continued to strike as he lifted himself to his feet and staggered forward.
Always climbing.
Never stopping.
Dark clouds morphed yet again into a single three-legged raven as it swirled around his head, calling for him, whispering his name.
“Pilgrim. Danzen Ravja. Assassin.”
The words slipped into one ear and twisted out the other, Danzen trying to make sense of them. They came to him again, and this time he understood what he needed to do.
“Pilgrim. Danzen Ravja. Assassin.”
He willed himself awake, Danzen gasping and pressing forward, only to choke himself once again through the chains that were pinning him to the wall.
“Quiet,” Sansar told him, the raven looking up at Danzen with sorrowful eyes.
He was no longer dreaming, Danzen back in the cave, somewhere in the mountains outside of Arsi, Ginza absent for the time being. Everything was blurry. “He will be back soon. He’s gone out to hunt something. You must free yourself of these chains, Pilgrim.”
“…How?” asked Danzen.
“I can get you out of here, but I can’t break these chains. You could break them if you had one of your weapons, or better, Ginza could.”
“He won’t…”
“I was listening when he was speaking to you and talking to himself after you passed out. He may seem somewhat calm and collected, but I believe it will be easy to get under his skin. Get under his skin, Pilgrim.”
“And then… what?”
Sansar quickly bobbed his head up and down. “Force him to break the chains. Do whatever you have to do, say whatever you have to say, and I will take it from there.”












