War priest the complete.., p.65
War Priest: The Complete Series, page 65
“What do you remember about that night?” she asked carefully.
“Which one?”
“That night. The attack on your Academy.”
Images came to Arik, from the death of his classmate Xander, to his parents, to getting his fingers cut off before being shoved out the window. It was a painful memory, every part of it.
“I try not to think about it.” he lied.
“You should think about it.”
“What… what do you mean?”
“Think about it, disciple.”
Arik’s eyes widened as the pieces of that fateful night stitched together. He recalled the opponent he had been fending off, a female shinobi, how she had cleaved through his fingers with her blackened blade, the same blade now sheathed at Tayaura’s waist.
His mouth fell open. “It… it was you?”
His movements were instinctual at this point, Arik’s hand going into the front of his robes so he could procure his mask, the disciple suddenly up on his feet, his knees wobbly.
“No…” Tayaura started to say.
Arik gave up his quest to put the Mask of the Fallen over his face and went for the Whispering Sword instead. The blade began to melt as soon as he removed the weapon from its scabbard.
“You were there. Meosa…”
The kami appeared at his side. “Yes? What has gotten into you, disciple? Here I was trying to have a conversation with Basha…”
“She was there. I fought her at the Academy that night.” Arik said, the memories overwhelming him. “She was there when my parents were slaughtered, my friends… the other head priests!”
Meosa flared up, but rather than shoot forward, he tightened his grip on Arik’s arms to prevent him from attacking Tayaura. “Hear her out first, disciple,” he said in Arik’s ear.
“No… no…”
“It isn’t what it seems,” Tayaura told Arik, a pleading look on her face. She had her hand on the grip of her weapon as well, but there was hesitancy in her body language. He knew if he sent the Whispering Sword forward that it would all be over. She wouldn’t be able to stop his advance. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. My father…”
“What does Hojo have to do with this?”
“Nothing,” she told Arik. “But I explained to him what happened that night, and he thought that I should be the one to tell you.”
“Be clear, shinobi-ess,” Meosa said, still preventing Arik from attacking by holding his wrists back.
Arik had already tried several times, the disciple knowing that if he could just flick his wrist forward...
Now that she had mentioned it, he was certain that it had been her, the female shinobi he had fought. He recalled their brief tussle, his surprise in coming to find his incredibly powerful opponent had been a woman.
“I had no intention to kill anyone there and… and I didn’t, disciple. I swear it. I joined the false shinobi to find and execute Sengum Minamoto because my father wouldn’t avenge Hirokuni’s death. Sengum divided his forces into several groups before I joined. I was certain that he would accompany us to your academy. I was going to strike him down then, before the assault could get underway. But he never joined us.”
“You cut off my fingers,” Arik said, even though he was later able to heal them. Compared to what she had been part of, it was a trivial point. He also realized something else in that moment as he stared Tayaura down. While anger was certainly filling him due to her confession, he also understood something else about the female illusionist—her dedication to her disguise.
Arik shook his head, trying to will this notion away. Yet it remained.
Had he heard this confession even a month ago, things would have been very different. But now, he was in the world of the illusionists, and he had seen what they were capable of. He knew how hard it must have been to maintain her disguise if Tayaura was actually telling the truth.
“I would never do something like that. I swear to you, disciple.” Shame took shape in the way she held her body, her head tilted down, Tayaura no longer able to make eye contact with Arik. “But I thought I was close. And it was only after that terrible night that Sengum rooted me out. I didn’t kill anyone at your Academy, but you, you attacked me, one of the only disciples to truly fight back. I couldn’t let myself die there, not when I was that close.”
“What about Master Guri Yarna? If you were there, you were there when they spared his life.”
“I was. I can tell you he wasn’t thrilled by what happened. But he never spoke directly to me, only to Sengum’s lieutenant. He was also taken away with his wrists shackled, if that means anything.”
“Against his will?”
“Yes, disciple.”
Meosa weighed in. “It would make sense, my boy. Being the type of warlord Nobunaga is, he likely wants to ensure that he can live a long and prosperous life, while also making sure his enemies aren’t given the same advantage. Having a head priest in your inner circle, and potentially being the only person to have one in all of Taomoni, would give him an incredible advantage. Not only that, if he does conquer your realm, he can have the academies rebuilt to glorify him, in a way, showing the people of the Onyx Realm that he wasn’t quite as ruthless as they thought. Think about it. It wasn’t Crimsonians that attacked your academy. It was illusionists. False shinobi.”
A dark look came over Tayaura’s face. “Yes, the false shinobi.”
Arik slowly lowered his chin, the tension somewhat leaving him.
“Are we good here, disciple? Or do I still need to hold you back?”
“We’re… we’re good.” Arik returned his sword to its scabbard, tension trickling down his arms.
“I’m sorry, disciple,” Tayaura said. “And I’m sorry you had to learn about it this way. If it had been my choice, I would have waited until… until after we have shared a victory to tell you. But my father insisted that I confess the next time I saw you. Even on our way back to the camp here, I could have told you then, but it just didn’t feel right. It still doesn’t feel right. But I thought about it over the night. I know what it’s like to lose a family member. And I’m sorry that your parents had to… that they had to die that way. But I promise you one thing.”
Arik looked up at the female illusionist. “Yes?”
“I will help you rescue your sister when the time comes. I owe you that much.”
.Chapter Seven.
“The truth has never been what you wanted it to be.”
–Prince Tenzin of the Jade Realm’s words to his third wife, Dawan, following the War of Gods in Year 789. Their marriage lasted for the rest of her life.
Arik was slightly startled when he saw a man in a conical hat approach, the bottom of his face covered by a wooden bird beak that had been painted red. The man, who wore flowing crimson robes, carried ten bird cages affixed to a long staff cast across his shoulders, a bag or two at his side.
“Relax, it’s him,” Arik said just as Istvan was about to draw his hammer, Nyoko already with her axe at the ready.
“This… this is the illusionist?” Istvan asked for both of them.
Tayaura, who had been sitting alone near a tree, approached her father. She helped him remove the bird cages from his back and set them on the ground, the sparrows inside chirping wildly. There had to be close to a hundred of them.
Hojo tilted his head back to examine his daughter and offered her a short nod, Tayaura once again in her kitsune mask.
“I was wondering when you would come back,” said Basha, cutting any strange tension the group may have been feeling with Hojo’s sudden and bizarre appearance.
“Yes, it took longer than I would have liked. My apologies.”
Meosa’s form solidified. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite illusionist. I’m guessing you are wondering why we have a few new friends.”
Hojo shifted his focus to Istvan and Nyoko. “I am indeed. Why are they here?”
“I can explain.” Arik quickly caught Hojo up, skipping over the fact that Istvan had more or less pressured him to come along. He told them how he had trained with Akamatsu, and explained delicately how things had gone poorly in the end. As he spoke, Arik noticed Tayaura move to some of the trees and begin chipping away at the bark with her kunai.
“I see,” Hojo said once he had finished his explanation. “And you better understand your weapon now?”
Arik nodded.
Hojo tilted his chin toward a branch behind him. “Prove it to me.”
Arik drew the sword and sent it forward, the two blades twisting together and scissoring through a far-off branch. It landed a few feet behind the bird cages, startling the sparrows inside.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” said Istvan.
“Akamatsu did well. And you did well, even if your interaction with him ultimately ended in tragedy.” Hojo shifted his gaze to Nyoko and Istvan. “There is one problem.”
“What’s that?” Arik returned his sword to its scabbard.
“I only brought enough disguises for the three of us.” Hojo removed the pack on his back, and showed Arik that there were a pair of Crimsonian robes inside. He had also procured two square hats, which were collapsible.
“And you are going as…?”
“A bird monger.”
So that’s what those people are, Arik thought, recalling some of the Crimsonians he’d seen outside the first installation.
“I hate to interrupt here, but I don’t quite understand what it is you intend to do with these birds,” Istvan told him.
“Yes, the sparrows,” said Hojo. “They are lovely, aren’t they?”
Istvan raised an eyebrow at the master illusionist. “It makes sense you don’t have robes for us, but… but don’t count us out, here.” He gestured to Nyoko. “We still want part of the action.”
“We can discuss that.”
The northern man waited for Hojo to continue, and when he didn’t, he spoke again. “Discuss which part, illusionist?”
“All parts. We will start with the sparrows. I need you all to gather wood shavings, small ones.”
Nyoko began doing as instructed without any further questioning, the Jadean woman using a knife to start in on one of the trees. The difference in her reaction to Hojo’s request when compared to Istvan’s was noticeable. Even though she hadn’t said much, if anything at all, there was a hint of respect and fear coming from the mountain woman. After all, Nyoko was from the realm of Chimaura. She knew what Hojo was capable of.
Istvan, however, was a northerner, and like Arik, he had questions: “So… you just want us to gather wood shavings?”
“Yes. I will help you.” Hojo produced the crystal kunai from his robes. He started gathering the wood shavings alongside Tayaura, the master illusionist remaining in his conical hat and his bird mask. Feeling more like a Jadean than a man from the Onyx Realm, Arik joined them, using one of his kunai to gather wood shavings in his palm.
Istvan stepped over to Arik. “We aren’t even going to ask why we are doing this?”
It was Meosa who replied this time. “The day you figure out an illusionist will be the day that they have truly conned you for good. I’ve given up trying to understand what it is they are up to. My advice? Just go with it.”
“How familiar are you with the Jade-Crimson War of Shadows?” Hojo asked Istvan as he continued to gather wood shavings.
“That was nearly a thousand years ago.”
“Yes, it was. During that war, there was a battle for present-day Iga that left that ancient city in ruins by the end. Fire.”
“I don’t see your point.”
“The fire came from the birds, the same sparrows that frequent the Valleys of the Unknown, the same you may have seen in the air here. That’s why there are bird mongers at the three camps. The bird mongers are there to capture and either sell or kill the sparrows. Some of the birds, the ones with golden tail feathers, are worth money to an itako. As you can see, those are the ones I have here.” Hojo motioned toward his bird cages, all of the sparrows with golden tails.
“You seriously collected all of those?” asked Istvan.
“From the three installations, yes. Not only that, I had to follow them to see where they were nesting. While the historical burning of Iga is common knowledge, not many know how it happened so long ago, not even my fellow instructors, people like Sengum Minamoto.”
“So, how did Iga burn, then?”
“It was the sparrows.” Hojo paused and looked up at the northerner. “You may be able to notice the buildings from the cliff nearby, all of which have been hastily erected, made out of wood and covered with thatched roofs. These are similar to the buildings of Iga during the 700s. The sparrows nest beneath the roofs. And that’s not the only thing beneath some of these coverings—explosives, weapons, rations.”
“So you have gathered sparrows with golden tail feathers to bring fire to these buildings. Am I understanding this correctly?”
Meosa laughed bitterly at Istvan’s question. “Now, he’s got me curious. I’m ashamed to say that I’m not familiar with the War of Shadows reference. Believe it or not, that was actually before my time.”
“Mine as well,” said Basha.
“Yes, you are understanding it correctly,” Hojo told Istvan. “The sparrows will bring the fire. Now, help me gather wood shavings.”
“How exactly are the birds going to help you bring fire?”
“I’ll show you, but first we will need more wood shavings.”
Istvan shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Listen to him,” Meosa told Arik, “he’s just like you, disciple.”
“We’re going to use a flammable wax to attach the wood shavings to the sparrows’ legs,” Hojo explained. “Then, I’m going to take the birds to the camp and light each one as I release them. They will return to their nests, and when they do, the fires will start. We will destroy the three installations in the process.”
Skepticism spread across Istvan’s face. “Do you think that will actually work?”
“I’ve tested it before, back when I was an instructor at the School of Illusion.”
“All of the sparrows will die,” said Nyoko, the Jadean woman looking up from the shavings she had already collected.
“Yes, that is the case, sadly. But we have to keep the much bigger picture in mind. And it wasn’t easy, you know, gathering these birds. I chose them because of the specific nests that they will return to. A bird always returns to its nest, and in a way”—Hojo made eye contact with Arik—“humans are no different. Collect as many wood shavings as you can, and as I said, the smaller the better. This will take us into the afternoon to prepare. Then, the three of us will begin our assault.”
“What about us?” Istvan asked, motioning to Nyoko and Basha. “Don’t think that we are going to sit back and let you have all the glory.”
“Believe me when I tell you it is not glory that I am interested in. But worry not, I have a plan for you as well. Let’s gather the wood shavings first and then we will go over it.”
****
The flammable wax that Hojo had prepared was incredibly sticky, easily able to accommodate the wood shavings and stay on the sparrows’ legs. As they soon discovered, preparing each bird was easier with two people, one to hold it while the other affixed the small bits of wood. Hojo was very specific about which bird went in which cage, another reason it took them some time to prepare all one hundred.
“And you are going to light each one individually?” Istvan asked as they finished up. He was just about to place his hands on his waist when Hojo stopped him.
“Everyone needs to thoroughly wash their hands. The wax can be toxic. And yes, to answer your question, I am going to light each one individually.”
“I’ll save you all the trouble.” Meosa cycled around each of them, cleaning their hands. “It’s the least I can do.” The sparrows now all in their cages and ready, Hojo turned to Arik and Tayaura and instructed them to dress in their disguises.
Arik retrieved the Crimsonian robes that Hojo had procured and one of the square hats. He stepped away from the group and began changing, finding it hard to look down and see the blood-red clothing hanging from his form. He much preferred the dark blues and purples that the illusionist wore, that or white, like he had at the Academy of Healing Arts.
After placing the Mask of the Fallen on his face and tying it off behind his head, Arik put on the square hat, his vision now affected by the slit-like viewing pane at the front of the hat. He returned to find Istvan having a heated discussion with Hojo: “We didn’t come this far to let the three of you do all the work. Nyoko and I, we both have our reasons, we both want to help.”
“And you will be a help, as I’ve told you. Once you can see the fire, your role will be assisting our escape.” Hojo motioned toward the north. “This is the area where we will make our leave, not far from the front gates of the first installation. That’s where we will need you. We’ll fight them back at that point, and escape together.”
“What about Nobunaga and Sengum Minamoto?” Arik asked, which was something that Hojo hadn’t covered yet. “Did you see them there?”
