Pilgrim 3, p.33
Pilgrim 3, page 33
By this point, Yato had gathered supplies for a fire, which she’d started, Bawa and Kudzu sitting near it to warm themselves. It was starting to grow colder, something Danzen had noticed in their climb to the top, even with the energy he was exerting by carrying the remnant.
They ended up eating a type of flower that hermits sometimes enjoyed, which they mixed with water from a gourd they found, likely one that was once filled with snow. They cooked these into hardened pancakes, and while they were filling enough, Danzen found himself craving meat.
The sky seemed to change color this high up, greenish streaks moving across it as more stars appeared, the temperature continuing to plummet. The others soon fell asleep, but Danzen remained awake, always on guard, always ready.
As he stoked the fire, Danzen thought about his misguided half-brother, and the threat he posed to his livelihood. It was sad to think that he would not be able to reach Nomtoi in a way that let him know that Danzen was genuine, that he wasn’t the least bit interested in his father’s throne. Maybe that was because there was a sliver of him, albeit small, that was interested in using his father’s power for good. Danzen hadn’t given much thought to this voice, but it was there, and it was another option aside from scouring the land for remnants.
Time would tell how it all played out, and unfortunately, the odds of Nomtoi tipping the scale were much higher than not. Danzen didn’t sleep that night; nonetheless, he felt rested in the morning as the others came awake. He was ready to return to the nunnery.
****
The trip to the monastery the next day wasn’t as difficult as Danzen assumed it would be. The path that Bawa had scouted out was relatively smooth, and it was clear that the fox had an understanding of the mountains that came with experience in the region.
As they walked, Danzen at the back of the group, the question of Jelmay came up, Kudzu begrudgingly admitting that they should probably go to Odval to find him if he hadn’t returned.
“I still don’t know why we keep him around,” she said, the hint of a smile on her face. “But he’s better than Usagi. Hopefully,” she told Yato, “you will never have the displeasure of meeting Usagi.”
“I can second that,” Bawa added. “He’s one of the reasons I don’t want to go back to your valley.”
“He’s easy enough to avoid,” said Kudzu. “I only encountered him in the last few months, and I’ve lived there my entire life.”
“You might not have encountered him, but I’m sure that he knew at least a little something about you. That’s what he does, you know. Not only does he trade in favors, but he also trades in information. He is well-connected.”
This statement made Danzen wonder if there was anything that Usagi knew that could threaten his well-being. He supposed that the rabbit could tell more people of the nature of his blood, but what good would that really do? And even if the news got around to the humans that lived in the valley, it didn’t mean any of them would act upon it. There were always rumors, but still, Danzen thought about this deeply as they continued on their way. Was there something else that Usagi knew? And if he did know something, what kind of damage would the jade rabbit be able to do with this knowledge?
Rain clouds slowly swirled into shape, a darkness spreading across them as thunder started up. Her ears flitted back, Kudzu looked up at the sky, the white fox not able to hide the worry on her face. The first bolt of lightning made her jump, and for a moment Danzen nearly went through the motions of setting the remnant down and going for his weapon, fearing that something like a sugawara was engaging them.
He dropped this notion once he saw that they were in the clear, that it truly was just a bolt of lightning.
“It may seem a little frightening, but I wouldn’t expect much,” Bawa told them. “We locals consider the weather patterns in these mountains all bark and no bite. It rarely rains even if it looks like it’s going to rain, and the sky will thunder and spit lightning, but the only damage it is able to do is start a fire, and there hasn’t been one of those in quite some time. The humans may eventually prevent them completely if they continue to tear away at forests. As you may have noticed, the plains not far from the nunnery are exceptionally dry.”
“You could always move to Genshin Valley…” Kudzu suggested. “We have more rain than we know what to do with. That’s one reason we came here, to escape the humidity.”
“I despise humidity, and I like the dry weather,” Bawa told her. “There’s always something crisper about the air here, and if you know where to look, it’s generally easy to find shelter and other things.”
“Well, the offer is always on the table.”
They came to a point where they could see the nunnery, which was where Bawa stopped, the fox sitting, his tail lightly tapping into the ground, the end of it now a deep shade of turquoise. They bid farewell to the yokai, and he showed Kudzu a way to call him if they ever returned to the outer regions through making a sound Danzen was unable to replicate.
“I wish you luck, and when you do return, if that is indeed your prerogative, I can show you where some of the other remnants are. There’s a lot that hasn’t been explored here, and believe it or not, there are pockets of civilization here that people in the Kishu Kingdom know nothing about.”
“I’m sure there is,” Kudzu told him.
Danzen was glad to reach the monastery, and as he did nuns fanned toward them, assisting with some of their items, all except for the smaller remnant still in its leather bag, and the iron case. A nun with a cleft lip led Danzen to a study in one of the main buildings, where Menya was seated at a table copying something from a brittle scroll.
“You have returned,” she said, her eyes smiling at them as Danzen placed the remnants on the table. “They are larger than I expected they would be.”
“They weren’t easy to get either,” Kudzu said.
“I would think not, otherwise someone else would have retrieved them by now.” Menya stood, and as she did, a nun came in from the other room and collected her things for her. She quickly led Danzen and his companions to the room where they kept the remnants, the one that was in a well-protected basement.
“It will be safe here,” she said after Danzen set the iron crate down again, Yato placing the leather bag with the remnant on top of it. “We will get a pedestal made.”
“I have this one as well,” he said as he placed his hand over the remnant he’d kept in his pocket, the one he had taken from Shimaru’s eye socket.
“Hold onto that one,” Menya said. “The smaller ones won’t help us as much unless we collected a good many.”
“Any word from Jelmay?” Kudzu asked. “We thought he would be back by now.”
“Unfortunately, last I heard he was in Odval. Perhaps you will find him there.”
“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Kudzu groaned. “I suppose we should eat a proper meal before we set out. Listen to me. I practically sound like the bakeneko.”
“It would be nice to get cleaned up,” Yato said. “And of course, a meal.”
“I agree,” Menya told the three of them. “Get cleaned up and rest for a bit. There’s no rush to get to Odval. I will have some meals prepared in the meantime, and you can set out. Did you have any other plans at the nunnery? Were you wishing to stay longer?”
“I don’t know,” Danzen told her. “A part of me wants to get back to Genshin Valley, to ask my mother, and if not her, Abbot Monpo of the fox shrine, what we should do with these remnants, and if this is even a worthwhile endeavor in the first place.”
“Why would it not be a worthwhile endeavor?” Menya asked. “Wasn’t your intention to rebuild Sunyata? You know, that’s why I was in the library when you found me. There are enough old scrolls tucked away here that I can’t say for certain that crucial information isn’t written down somewhere. I’m slowly making my way through them, but if you did stay here, perhaps I would find something.”
“Maybe we should escort Shodren back here to help,” Kudzu suggested. “Two eyes are better than one, right?”
Menya lowered her chin, her eyes dropping to the ground. “You are certainly right. But I like to think that perhaps I may have a breakthrough with continued effort. Perhaps that would be a reason for you to return to Genshin Valley; your mother’s presence is greatly missed here, but ultimately, it is her choice.”
Danzen nodded. “Before we do anything, we should probably make sure Jelmay is all right.”
****
The shift in the landscape was something Danzen knew to expect going from the nunnery to the outer village of Odval. The cerulean sky overhead didn’t seem as close as it had been in the mountains, and it was certainly warmer, both Yato and Danzen rolling up the sleeves of their robes and revealing their gauntleted blades.
Danzen had found wrapping his forearms with cloth helped reduce the strain of wearing the weapons to the point that he generally forgot that he had them on in the first place. While he still had his baggage with him, including his armor, field diary, and other items, it felt much lighter traveling without the remnants. He felt more agile than normal, and he had to remind himself several times to not let this translate into his pace, especially with Kudzu in her human form, and Yato not able to travel at the same speed as Danzen when he was feeling motivated.
It turned out to be a leisurely walk, one that he enjoyed, and since it was close to dusk by the time they reached the village limits, they decided to stop at the same inn they stayed at last time, the one run by Oiwa and Yudono. What followed was a brief conversation about their son, Shimaru, and how he was faring at the nunnery. While Oiwa didn’t say as much, Danzen felt a bit of shame for not bringing a message or something of the sort from her son.
It really hadn’t crossed his mind.
The couple offered to comp the room, but Danzen had enough kip to cover it for the night, and he figured they would have more once they located Jelmay.
“And you haven’t heard anything about him?” Kudzu asked one last time before they went to their room.
Oiwa shook her head. “I didn’t even know your friend was in town. He didn’t stop by here.”
“Maybe he’s not in town,” said Kudzu once they reach their room. “I wouldn’t put it past him to go on a gambling spree to Arsi or even Sainshand. There’s really no telling.”
“At least we know where to look for him,” Yato said.
“That’s true, if he is in the village, he won’t be hard to find, not as rambunctious as he was.”
The three had been given the room where Danzen and Yato had first bent their echoes together, and since there were only two available beds, Danzen assumed he would find a spot on the floor. Looking to travel lightly, they left much of their things behind, Danzen securing his Blade of Darkness on a weapons rack near the door, and hanging his gauntleted blades from it as well.
They reached the other side of Odval, where they headed into the Golden Knuckle, the same tavern where they first sought the local warlord named Toku. The bartender recognized them, and rather than say anything, he simply motioned them to the back room, which opened up into a large, two-story space filled with people enjoying themselves. There was a hint of electricity to the air, at odds with how quiet it had been in the tavern just on the other side.
“I don’t know why Jelmay comes to places like this,” Kudzu said as they began to make their way through the crowd, Danzen never sure what to expect with the bakeneko. He could be in his nondescript human form, or he could have taken the form of someone else.
There really was no telling.
The majority of the crowd seemed to be hovering in the furthest corner, which was exactly where Danzen went, assuming that they were huddled around Jelmay who may have been gambling for well over forty-eight hours straight for all he knew. Seated around a table were several individuals, a couple with hoods on their heads to conceal their faces. There was a partition up to prevent bone dice from going too far, and as they approached, one of the women made her roll.
The crowd sighed in unison when the dice landed on what Danzen assumed was an unexpected number. One of the men standing near the back stormed off.
“Jelmay,” Kudzu said aloud, which garnered a few glares from the crowd as they wondered who dared interrupt their game. This didn’t stop Kudzu from trying again. “Jelmay, it’s us. Time to go, Jelmay.”
“I don’t think he’s here,” Yato finally said. She looked up at the rafters, where there were more people gathered. “Maybe he’s up there.”
“Or maybe he has a private game going somewhere. Wasn’t Toku’s place next door? Perhaps we should head there.” Kudzu turned, and as she did she tilted her head just a little, the look on her face telling Danzen that she saw something that was out of the ordinary.
A thick mist suddenly spread through the back room, Danzen turning just in time to see a cloaked figure with straw draped over their shoulders, the mist coming from their open palms. The crowd swelled around Danzen, Kudzu, and Yato. The smog now thick to the point where Danzen could no longer see, his first instinct was to close his eyes, to navigate his environment that way.
But there was something else about the smog, something that was making him feel weaker and weaker by the second.
He took a staggering step forward, and shot his arm out, reaching for Kudzu. Instead, Danzen went straight through a table, paralyzed as a swath of fabric was soon placed over his head, and his body was quickly dragged away, Danzen trying desperately to understand what was happening and failing.
More terrified screams, the sound of glass breaking all around him, a flash of demonic faces across his mind’s eye—it was the last thing he would remember for a while.
.Chapter Two.
A decade had passed since Danzen had encountered the hermit woman known as the Witch of Diyu. With her home high in the mountains outside of Sainshand, and an agreement with the Brotherhood that they could call upon her services, the Witch simply picked up a contract from time to time, the woman miserly enough with her funds to make them spread for several seasons before she sought out another mark, or accepted one of the ones that was offered to her from the Brotherhood.
All of this passed through Danzen’s mind as darkness swelled around him, his last encounter with her coming to him in a bewildering flash. The Witch of Diyu wore a cloak with an additional layer of straw over her shoulders, the woman similar to Danzen in that she always had a hood over her head. She hadn’t bent her echo, but she had dedicated her life to understanding poisons, and crafting a mask for herself that would prevent her from suffering from a gas attack.
Even as everything dimmed, and Danzen was dragged somewhere by someone, he now understood, in that very brief flash of consciousness, who had been coming in his direction back at the tavern, smoke billowing out of the palms of her hands. He also knew that everyone in that room was likely dead, that the Witch of Diyu was well known for her collateral damage, which was one of the reasons the Brotherhood shied from requesting her assistance unless they had a truly insurmountable target.
He had never worked directly with her, but he had seen a demonstration of her power, the aftermath of a wedding ceremony marred by over fifty dead bodies. Danzen was in Arsi at the time of her attack, Soko at his side, both crouched in the shadows as those who discovered the calamity openly wept beneath them. The Witch of Diyu enjoyed seeing her handiwork; Danzen remembered spotting the crone on an opposite rooftop, the woman perched, hood over her head, a mask on her face as she watched the riverside city slowly come awake to the tragedy.
The Witch knew Danzen and Soko were watching her, so she waved them over by lifting one hand and curling her long, claw-like fingernails, which he would later learn were prosthetics.
“Up to you,” Soko had told him.
“I’ve never spoken to her before.”
“I have, once.”
Skipping from rooftop to rooftop, Danzen and Soko made their way around a square and over to the Witch of Diyu. This was right at the start of Soko’s deep abuse of remnants, and she still had full usage of her legs. Her face was only starting to turn pale, a few light-blue veins appearing around her eyes.
“You’re late,” the Witch of Diyu said, her voice a crackled whisper that Danzen knew likely matched whatever scarred face she had under her mask.
“This wasn’t our assignment,” Soko said, defiant as ever. “What kind of poison did you use?”
“If you want my recipes, steal them from my hermitage on your own time. See what happens if you try.”
“We don’t need your recipes.”
“Young assassins always are so sure of themselves.”
“We’re not young,” Soko told her.
She wasn’t far off in this statement. At this point, they had just reached their thirties, and the two had been at it for a decade. This put Danzen and Soko around the prime age of the most successful assassins.
“Young enough to come this close to me, and foolish enough to expect that there is anything stopping me from killing the two of you.” The Witch of Diyu still hadn’t looked directly at them; she remained crouched, not at all worried about their presence behind her, even as Soko began to slowly draw her blackened blade.
“You are bold,” she told Soko, “but he is stronger. Dare I detect something unique about you?”
Danzen exchanged glances with Soko, who now had her blackened blade at the ready. He could read the look on her face, and knew that she was daring the hermit woman to say or do something that would force Soko to act.
“I spent many years in meditation,” the Witch of Diyu began, “where I mastered my senses, including my sense of smell. Yes, there is something different about you,” she told Danzen, her back to him, “and if you keep abusing remnants, you will change as well,” she said, referring to Soko. “Perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worst. It is not for me to say.”
