Pilgrim 2, p.8
Pilgrim 2, page 8
“I need armor. I know someone in Arsi who owes me a favor.”
“In that case: best armor, best carriage, best revenge, best of everything,” Jelmay said.
“I’m going ahead,” Kudzu told the two of them, and for a moment it looked like she was about to drop down to all fours so she could speed off. Realizing the limitations of her form, Kudzu simply walked faster, leaving Jelmay with Danzen.
“She’ll loosen up as the trip goes,” Jelmay assured him with a wink, “especially after we get some ale in her. That should be a hoot!”
They reached the Third District, Danzen moving quickly to Temur and Maral’s place, Maral coming to the door. As usual, the woman looked exhausted, her premature gray hair pulled up into a tight knot, a vein appearing on the side of her neck as she told one of her three rambunctious sons to stop bothering his younger brother.
Rather than stick around, Danzen quickly told her what he needed, and was just about to step away when Jelmay gave her some kip, a big smile on his face.
“And who are you?” she asked, looking from Jelmay to Kudzu. “You never introduced yourselves.”
“Both of them are acquaintances of mine, from the west,” Danzen explained quickly. “We’re going there to settle something. I will be back shortly.”
“I see,” Maral said, eyeing Kudzu curiously for a moment. “In that case, I will make sure my husband checks on your home and the chicken. I’m sure Khamdo will join him at some point, once he’s feeling better. When did you say you’ll be back?”
“As soon as I can,” Danzen said.
As they continued through the village, Danzen felt relief that they had left early, that he didn’t have to speak to anyone else in the Third District. The fewer people he had to speak to before leaving, the better.
It wasn’t long before they reached the long road that stretched between Suja Village and Chutham, Danzen, Kudzu, and Jelmay passing one of the small roadside shrines. Jelmay pointed this out, reminding Danzen of the importance of these little shrines, and how people in the Valley had stopped believing in them.
This led to a small debate between Jelmay and Kudzu, Danzen keeping his eyes ahead of him, monitoring his surroundings. He didn’t expect an ambush, but that was usually when an ambush came…
As they walked, he thought about the best way to go about their assault on the Brotherhood.
He had learned as an assassin that it was often easier to move at night. But the Diyu Brotherhood’s main complex was well-lit, and they had night patrols for this very reason.
Perhaps the best time to go would be early in the morning, but this meant they would have to keep a low profile in Sainshand depending on when they arrived, which could be difficult with Jelmay in tow, especially with the fact that the Brotherhood had more eyes and ears in the neighboring city than they did anywhere else.
The quicker he killed Biren Yeshe and left, the better.
He knew what his teacher was capable of, and that didn’t include some of the other teachers at the Brotherhood who were equally powerful. Danzen also knew how these contracts worked: if Biren Yeshe ended up dead, this would officially end the contract. That didn’t mean that there wouldn’t still be assassins hunting him, but the promise of a reward would disappear, leaving him only a few to handle before he could finally have peace.
True peace was what Danzen wanted more than anything. He didn’t know how to atone for his sins; it had never been something he spent much time thinking about, and putting a count on the sheer number of people he had killed was likely impossible.
If he could live peacefully in his monastery, continue to grow in his role as a member of the community of the Third District and at the same time learn to bend his echo, it would be worth something. It would never make up for what he’d done, but it would be better than doing nothing.
Yet there were pieces that needed to fall into place before that could happen, which was why he was so adamant about heading west.
Jelmay joked with the city guards once they reached Chutham, the men seeming to actually enjoy his humor. The bustling city was already awake, as it always was when Danzen visited. There were carriages bound for Suja Village to their immediate left, filled with fruit in wooden crates. Several sellers had set up on the right, their wares on red threadbare blankets, some selling root vegetables, one selling antiques.
“This way,” Jelmay told Kudzu, turning to the area of the city known for Eva Yin’s pleasure house. “It’s time to get you new robes. I’m assuming you have something you need to do as well,” Jelmay told Danzen, hinting at his visit to Selden’s Emporium.
“Yes.”
“Then Kudzu and I will meet you there, at the brewery, in an hour or so. It’s a little early for ale, but it could make the walk to Tudan much more enjoyable.”
“We’re not drinking this early,” Kudzu scolded him.
“You’re no fun in human form!”
Danzen moved away from his companions, continuing along until he saw Selden’s Emporium, the odd shop that sold yokai items empty as usual. He entered to find Selden behind the counter, the seller smiling as soon as he saw the former assassin.
“I was wondering when you would return, Pilgrim.”
“I took care of the sugawara,” Danzen told him, retrieving the helmet, which he placed on the counter. There was a T-shaped opening at the front of the helmet, which flared out a bit on the sides to allow for more peripheral vision, the piece made from a blackened metal that had no gloss to it.
“Would you look at that…” the store owner said, shaking his head. “You really got it, didn’t you?”
“Someone had to.”
“I agree there. Nothing but a terror, this one. You know—”
“This was what you wanted, right?” Danzen asked. “For the books.”
“It’s definitely what I wanted, but I don’t have the yokai books yet. They’re supposed to be coming in the next week.”
“Keep it; I will pick up the books when I return.”
“Where are you going?” Selden asked him, the seller raising an eyebrow as he looked Danzen over.
“To the west. I have something I need to handle.”
“Something that would involve your two weapons?”
Danzen nodded.
“Maybe you should take the helmet, then. Have you tried it on?”
“I have not.”
The thought hadn’t even crossed Danzen’s mind. He wasn’t opposed to wearing an enemy’s armor, even if some were superstitious about this, but upon first glance it appeared that the helmet wouldn’t fit him, and he hadn’t given it much thought since stuffing the piece in his bag.
“Go on then, try it. See if it fits you.”
Danzen took the helmet from Selden and turned it over in his hands for a moment. There was something different about the metal, something that he could almost feel not in his fingertips, but inside of him, an energy, perhaps.
“What do you think this is made of?” he asked Selden.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it was forged by a blacksmith likely using equipment made by remnants. I can’t prove that, but I did notice something subtle in touching the armor. Don’t you feel it?”
“I think I do. Yes, there’s something different about it.”
“Put it on. See if it fits. It looks to me like it will fit.”
Danzen slowly placed the helmet over his head, noticing that it had a peculiar smell to it, likely from the sugawara. The piece fit well enough, and upon turning his head, he saw that he had full mobility, that the additional armor that nearly touched the base of his neck wasn’t preventing any movement.
“Who knows? Maybe you will need it. I’ll tell you what, Pilgrim: when you come back, bring it to me and we can exchange it for the books,” Selden said, licking his lips. “We should probably clean it too.” He returned a moment later with a wet rag, and once Danzen gave him the helmet, Selden began wiping it down.
“Thank you,” Danzen said.
“Where’s that friend of yours anyway? The guy you were in with last time?”
A grim smile took shape on Danzen’s face. “He’s around.”
****
Fields upon fields of white flowers with their petals blowing in the air made the trip from Chutham to Tudan much more serene than it had been the last time Danzen visited the outpost, where he had encountered Soko.
The flowers were in such an abundance that it was hard to find the main trail, Kudzu going just a bit ahead to track it, while Jelmay hung back with Danzen, the bakeneko uncharacteristically quiet.
At one point Kudzu turned to them, her hair matching the white of the flowers, petals continuing to spin in the soft breeze giving her an ethereal appearance. She wore new robes that Jelmay had bought for her, which were made of silk, crimson with white accents. Danzen had noticed an energy about her before, when they’d first met, but he didn’t notice it now, while she was in her human form, Danzen assuming the glow that always radiated off her coat had something to do with bending her echo.
Not even a week ago, he had been at the fox shrine, saying he wasn’t interested in learning about the power. Now, as he followed Kudzu, Jelmay at his side, Danzen knew it was the only way forward. At the time he had been stubborn, afraid of his own demons. And he still was afraid of hellspawns that appeared when he bled. But maybe, perhaps if he worked hard enough at it, he would be able to get control over them in some way.
After all, it was time.
Twenty years as an assassin had dumped Danzen Ravja into middle age, not that he appeared this way, his muscles still full, skin still taut, no gray hairs on his head or in his beard stubble. He didn’t feel his age either, Danzen oftentimes experiencing a surge of energy coursing through him, one that he actively fought to suppress.
But here in a field of white flowers, with no one around…
He took off running, startling Jelmay. Danzen pressed off the ground and leaped into the air, landing beside Kudzu, who grinned as she looked down at the former assassin, who was now crouched, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Felt like jumping, did you?”
“It’s beautiful today,” Danzen said as he picked one of the flowers and examined it. He sniffed it, stood, and handed it to Kudzu, who tucked it behind her ear.
“Let’s continue,” she said, a smile still on her face as Jelmay caught up to them.
“Just to be clear, you probably shouldn’t go around jumping like a drunken monkey once we get closer to Tudan,” the bakeneko scolded him.
“Aware.”
“Also, I’m getting hungry; we’re going to need to eat before we set off.”
“That depends on when the boat leaves,” Kudzu told him.
“If we hurry…”
Jelmay started running, laughing as he looked over his shoulder, his tongue flailing out of his mouth before he eventually petered out.
“We’re still within range of your sword, aren’t we?” Kudzu asked, half-joking.
“We are,” Danzen told her. He placed his hand on the hilt of his blade, and popped it out of its sheath, Kudzu chuckling to herself as he clicked it back in.
They continued.
The day grew warm but it remained breezy, Danzen feeling as if they were walking through a cloud with all the flower petals in the air, bees too, the occasional hummingbird with aqua tail feathers looking for nectar, blue butterflies with jagged white lines painted across their wings fluttering about.
They reached the large trading post of Tudan, the place encased within a wall made of wood that seemed to stretch for a mile. The guards at the gates said little as they passed through, especially after Jelmay gave each of them a little kip. He had visited the bank in Chutham while Kudzu was having alterations made to her robes, the bakeneko flush with cash.
“Let me go to the bank first,” Jelmay told the two of them. “You guessed it—I’ve got some money here as well. Got to diversify! Then we can get another set of robes for Kudzu, for you too, if you would like, Pilgrim, and purchase our fare for the trip to Arsi. After that, we will drink and feast until the boat leaves.”
“One set of robes is enough,” she started to tell him.
“Nonsense, I told you that I was spoiling you. You also need to get a bag for your robes. Come to think of it, you’re going to need a sword as well. We’ll stop by the smith too,” he said, his eyes filling with glee. “I love spending money.”
Tudan was about as lively as it was the last time Danzen visited, much of the activity on the side of the city that pressed up against the Sakai River. Known as the Door of the Valley, Tudan was the only real access point for someone wanting to peddle their wares in the Genshin Valley. It had grown too large over the course of the last century, and Danzen wouldn’t be surprised if homes and other shops started to pop up outside of the walls. There was less worry of dealing with combative yokai here, and the militia employed by the residents of the city kept them safe.
Danzen could see some of those militia members now, men in red armor with square patches on their shoulders to protect against sword blows. He had utilized this type of armor before and didn’t like it. While it provided some additional protection, it also disrupted his peripheral vision, especially as Danzen sometimes sunk into the way he held his sword, his shoulders going up.
With Astra, he’d started to rely perhaps a little too much on long-range combat. There was a reason that a good archer could be one of the deadliest opponents, and Danzen didn’t feel like he lost any honor in the way he had learned to fight since acquiring the sword.
As he waited outside the bank, which was set in a building reinforced by steel bars all around it, the only one like it in the area, Danzen recalled some of the sword stances he had learned.
There were stances for dealing with someone holding a shield, someone wielding a staff, someone with two blades. He’d trained on all of them, and he knew he would have to brush up once again before going after Nomin.
Last he heard, the blind assassin was in the south, something he would confirm before he took Biren Yeshe’s life. Danzen would find Nomin first, and Soko would come later, Danzen assuming his former lover was probably off somewhere licking her wounds. That, or plotting her return.
It wasn’t long before Jelmay came out of the bank, a big smile on his face, the pockets on his little vest stuffed with kip.
Danzen understood now why the bakeneko had chosen to shift into the body of a random peasant.
There was nothing remarkable about his current form, no distinctive feature, nothing that anyone would remember. He was simply a man with short blonde hair, dull eyes, saggy cheeks with the physique of someone who had been doing manual labor most of their life, a strong back and wide shoulders.
“I believe it is this way…” he said, motioning for Kudzu to follow him.
They turned down one of the lanes, where they spotted an open-air shop with weapons displayed, a man crouched on the ground polishing a sword. Danzen could hear the sound of a blacksmith nearby, and he could feel the heat as well. He couldn’t see the person, their work covered by a tarp hanging from a wooden post, but he could smell it, and there was a discernible cloud of smoke puffing up from behind the storefront.
“She needs a sword,” Jelmay said, offering the crouching seller a toothy grin. “The best you have.”
“For her?” the man asked, looking curiously at Kudzu.
“Does she not look like she can wield a sword to you?” Jelmay asked as agitation took shape in his voice. “Because we will find someone else to sell us one if that is the case.”
“No, my lord,” the man said once he saw Jelmay flash a wad of kip. “I do have something. Please, wait here one moment. Would you like tea?”
“Not today. We are in a bit of a hurry.”
“I understand,” the seller said as he grinned at the three of them, the man missing several of his teeth. “Give me just one moment.”
The seller shuffled behind the canvas that hung as a barrier between the storefront and the blacksmith, and returned a moment later with a blade about three-fourths the size of Danzen’s sword.
Its sheath was made of polished bone, its grip crossed with strips of gold thread, which matched the tassel at the end of the hilt. He presented the weapon to them, bowing his head.
“Go on, try it out,” Jelmay told Kudzu.
She reached for the blade, and she was just starting to take it out of its beautiful scabbard when the man motioned toward the right, where he had a frame arranged with a sheet of tough leather thrown over it.
“Please, test it. You will see it is of a caliber unlike any other sword you’ll find in the Valley.”
“Was it made with a remnant?” Danzen asked.
The seller squinted at him as if he were crazy. “I have only seen swords made with remnants a handful of times. We don’t have anything like that here, I’m afraid.”
Kudzu withdrew the blade fully from the scabbard, admiring the fine steel it had been crafted from. She turned it around her hand and focused on the sheet of leather.
Fwwwoowwsh…
The blade slid through it as if it were made of warm butter.
“It’s perfect,” she said, her voice soft now.
“We’ll take it,” Jelmay told the seller. “And so we don’t have to waste time haggling, give me a price of just a couple thousand kip above the lowest you’ll go. We have more shopping to do.”
****
The three came to the next shop not far from where they had just purchased a blade for Kudzu, which was now sheathed at her side. They were greeted by a woman who wore dark-gray robes, at odds with the flamboyant and vibrant clothing on display. It soon became apparent that this was by design, the contrast between what she was wearing and what was hanging from the walls leading one to naturally pay more attention to the clothing for sale.
“Something beautiful for her, and something practical for him,” Jelmay told her.
“This isn’t necessary,” Danzen told him.
