Blade's Edge, page 5
part #1 of Chronicles of Gensokai Series
Even as she made the decision to climb the cliff, the sky seemed to darken slightly around her, and she felt as if the mist that she had been climbing through all morning had decided to collect directly on top of her. The air grew more damp, and it seemed as though less sunlight filtered through it than had done so only moments before. Mishi shivered even as she finished her rice ball. She must be letting the rumors affect her imagination. A mountain couldn’t will her not to climb it, could it?
She repacked her bundle with more caution than was probably necessary and settled it snugly between her shoulders once more, the sleeves of the jacket Tenshi had given her tied in a tidy knot over her chest.
She stepped closer to the cliff and looked up. It looked taller now that she was directly beneath it. Perhaps it was more like four times the height of Kuma-sensei. She reached for the first small ledge above her, and, finding no other foot holds below it, put her right toes on the same ledge as her hand and began to pull herself onto it. The ledge was only slightly wider than she was, and she had to be very careful to keep her balance as she got her weight centered over her right leg and stood up.
“This had better be worth the trouble,” she muttered between gasping breaths as she prepared to rise towards the next ledge. She tried to ignore the deep rumble that the mountain seemed to emanate in response. Her mind must be playing tricks on her.
There were a few smaller holds between her and the next ledge, only the size of her hand or foot, and she wondered how any adults managed to make their way to the top of this mountain. Some of them must make it there, else where did the rumors come from? And besides, the shrine atop the mountain was said to be one of the most powerful in Gensokai, surely many people must come here seeking aid. So why did she feel as though she was utterly alone? As though if anything happened to her no one would ever find her or even her remains….
She shook that thought away, took a deep breath, and kept moving. Kuma-sensei would not have sent her to do an impossible task, and he probably wouldn’t have sent her to do something that was likely to kill her… at least she didn’t think he would. She knew from her training that the most important tasks in her life would be difficult, and sometimes even dangerous. She assumed that this was no exception.
Slowly, carefully, but never pausing for long, she made her way towards the top of the cliff. Some of the places she had to put her feet were only large enough for her toes. Some of the handholds only allowed for her fingertips to grip them.
As she came close to the top of the cliff, the rumbling of distant thunder returned, now shaking the cliff beneath her in a way that she thought thunder should not be capable of. Her hands began to sweat and her grip began to slide from the rock each time she reached for a new handhold. She took a deep breath and the rumbling subsided. Then, as she pulled her right leg higher and tried to get her toe on the next foothold, the rumbling resumed with more force than before and her right hand lost its grip, causing her to start swinging away from the rock. She cried out and dug in her right toe as well as her left hand, clenching all the muscles in her stomach and back in order to prevent herself from peeling away. From there, she wasn’t even sure what her hands and feet were doing, but she somehow managed to reach for the final ledge an arm span above her. She pulled herself over the edge, her stomach flat to the ground and her right leg stepping up to slide her along the ground, until more than two thirds of her body was resting on the gloriously flat surface at the top of the cliff. The exertion had taken every bit of strength that she had. As she lay there and flipped herself over to contemplate a sky that was now surprisingly blue, when only moments ago she had been swathed in mist, she wondered if she would ever have the strength to stand again. Her arms and legs trembled with exhaustion.
After a time, her arms and legs felt more solid and she was able to sit up, but she decided she should eat another rice ball before she moved on. Tenshi was always telling her and her sisters to eat more, especially when they complained of being tired from training. The three girls may have grumbled at the advice, but they had also noticed that it helped.
The view from the top of the waterfall was entrancing. The mists swirled around the base of the mountain, forming a silky chain around the range of mountains stretching into the distance. Mishi watched as a hawk reeled through the ether, caught between clear sky and mist, and the verdant peaks between. As she finished her rice ball, she concluded that she must be at least halfway to the top of this peak. She still felt weak from scaling the cliff, but she also felt confident that she could walk.
She gathered herself up, replaced her small pack, and continued up the small, brown thread of trail that wove its way through the trees and underbrush, hoping she would make the summit before nightfall. The sky remained clear above her and she hadn’t heard the mountain rumble since gaining the top of that ledge.
As it happened, the trail finally rose to a ridge line that wound for about half a league to the final summit of the mountain and deposited her in front of an unpainted, but ornately carved, wooden shrine no larger than her room at the school.
She stood before it, disappointed at first that it wasn’t more grand in stature, but then slowly becoming awed by it as she took in its details. Within the standard wooden roof, with its curved and decorated corners, stood a statue of a dragon that took Mishi’s breath away. She was not mesmerized by the fact that the dragon statue appeared to be made of solid gold and silver, though that fact struck her with awe as well. What mesmerized her was the incredible detail with which the statue had been carved. Every single scale, from the small, dagger shaped scales on the dragon’s face, to the larger, leaf shaped scales of gold and silver that gently curved away from the dragon’s body, locking together and overlapping with each other and a series of jade plates, was carved with the most exquisite detail. She couldn’t imagine the level of patience the artist must have had to include so many details, especially over such a large statue. Everything about the shrine looked delicate, even though the dragon statue, folded over itself many times to fit its lengthy body within the confines of the roof, filled all the space inside, aside from a small jade bowl used to hold burning incense. For a moment it was all Mishi could do to inspect the sculpture and appreciate its artistry.
Mishi shook herself from her stupor and then opened up her bundle to retrieve a stick of incense. Those had been the only instructions that Kuma-sensei had deigned to give her for this adventure: climb to the top of the mountain, find the shrine, light a stick of incense, and begin to meditate. The rest, Sensei had told her, would ‘be revealed to her.’ That, she had learned over the past few cycles, meant that part of the test was to determine what the test was.
Ignoring the strange sense that there were eyes focused on her, she dutifully lit the incense, stabbing the stick into the coarse sand that filled the jade bowl so that it would remain upright until it burned down to nothing. Then she cast about for a flat surface on which to begin her meditations.
She finally settled on a nice patch of comfortable looking ferns a few arm spans away from the shrine, and sat down with her legs folded beneath her the way that Kuma-sensei had taught her. In the past few cycles her meditation had improved greatly. What had started off as a task that always left her bored and fidgety had become a practice that helped her access her kisō more quickly and to much greater effect than she had ever managed before. Kuma-sensei had started training her in kisō not long after her arrival at the school, despite telling her that most students did not start their kisō training until the age of ten. Recently though, Kuma-sensei had told her that her kisō was ready for the next level of training, one she would have to complete a very special test in order to begin. Since kisō practice depended largely on one’s ability to focus one’s ki in meditation, even in the distractions of battle, she assumed the test before her would be one of focus.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to clear her thoughts.
Though her eyes were closed and she was focused inwards, she could still sense the sun as it settled low on the mountain and began to sink out of sight. She waited. As the last rays of sunlight touched the roof of the shrine, Mishi thought she sensed movement behind her. Could someone else be on the mountaintop?
Determined not to break her concentration, and resolved that the noise, whatever its source, most likely formed part of the test itself, she remained where she was. She was confident that she would sense it if she were in any danger of being attacked.
The light breeze that had been blowing as she settled into meditation became a true wind. As it began to blow more forcefully, she wondered if the weather were changing. Still, she tried to remain focused on her meditation. She continued her breathing and returned her mind to clarity. She assumed this was part of the test. An attempt to distract her perhaps? She would remain focused. She would prepare herself mentally for any eventuality.
Yet nothing could have prepared her for what happened once the sun was fully gone behind the mountains and twilight set in. When the last rays of light left the shrine and then disappeared behind the mountains to the west, the rumbling she had heard on and off all day began to emanate from the shrine itself. The hairs on Mishi’s neck rose and she struggled to keep her eyes closed and maintain her focus. Soon the rumbling became a growl, such a deep and thundering sound that Mishi found it nearly impossible to resist the urge to open her eyes and break her meditation.
The sound of wood splintering brought her head up, her ears perked in the direction of the shrine, but she managed to resist the urge to look. Finally, a hot wind blew in her face, and a voice deeper than the most melancholy thunder rolled past her and enveloped her.
“Who are you, child?” The voice didn’t sound angry, but it didn’t sound pleased either.
“I am Mishiranu; a Kisōshi in training,” she replied, with as much confidence as she could summon given the enormity of the voice that surrounded her.
It took every shred of self control she had to keep her eyes closed and cling to her meditative state. She was desperate to know what the owner of that voice looked like and whether or not it was likely to attack her. If it did attack her, how would she defend herself? The urge to open her eyes and see the potential threat before her was powerful and tempting.
“A female Kisōshi? It has been almost a thousand seasoncycles since I have met one. The last one was not worth the meeting. I was compelled to eat her.”
The way the voice so casually mentioned eating a Kisōshi made Mishi shiver.
“Are you cold, child? I can warm you up,” the voice said, with an earth shaking growl that Mishi could only hope was laughter. Mishi swallowed and tried to keep her apprehension at bay. What kind of test had Kuma-sensei submitted her to?
“Why don’t you look at me, child? It’s rather rude to sit there so obstinately with your eyes closed.”
The voice sounded gruff, but she thought she also detected amusement in its reverberating tones. She continued to keep her eyes closed.
“I don’t think you mean to be rude, which is why I haven’t eaten you yet, but if you persist I will have to assume it is intentional and the consequences of being rude to a dragon can be dire indeed.”
Curiosity and fear overcame her, and all traces of her meditative state vanished. Mishi opened her eyes. What she saw before her left her mouth agape and her eyebrows reaching for her hairline. The dragon statue was no more, and a pile of tinder lay where once the small though magnificent shrine had stood. What had replaced both the building and the statue was more magnificent by far. A living dragon hovered before her, in all of its gold, silver, and jade glory, over a hundred times as long as she was tall and with a head large enough that the mouth within it could easily have consumed five of her in a single bite.
The longer she stared at the creature, the less afraid she became, though it occurred to her that perhaps that was not a rational reaction to such a creature. The dragon was magnificent, and ought to have been terrifying, but out of habit and without thinking, she had pushed out her own kisō to assess the dragon’s intentions as soon as she had opened her eyes. The moment she had done so she had perceived that the creature meant her no harm… at least, not without provocation.
TAKA AND KIKO walked arm and arm, padding as silently as they could through the darkened, tatami lined hallway. As they walked, Taka’s mind wandered to consider why the Josankō even had a library. In the three cycles that she’d been there, the instructors had never once assigned the girls reading from any book or scroll. All of their ‘studies’ consisted of listening to the lectures of the male instructors and working their practical classes with their female instructors. She supposed the presence of the library must have something to do with the tours of the ‘school’ that were given to the family members of girls who were newly handed over to the Josankō.
Yet, in the past three cycles, the library had become one of Taka’s favorite sanctuaries. It hadn’t taken long for Kiko to discover that Taka hadn’t known how to read or write, and once Kiko had made a point of teaching her, she had excelled at the activity. Now she read as many scrolls or books as she could.
However, she’d never felt comfortable having scrolls or books out in front of the instructors, especially not the ones on advanced medicine that she preferred to read, and she and Kiko confined their forays into the school library to after dark, when they were less likely to run into any of the instructors.
They paused outside of the sliding paper door and listened for a moment before entering. Taka heard nothing, as was usually the case, so she gently slid the door open wide enough for Kiko to enter before her, and slid it shut behind her after they had both slipped through the doorway.
Once inside, Kiko insisted on lighting a small candle that she had brought with her. Taka always thought it was a needless risk to attract attention with a light, but Kiko insisted that they were more likely to attract attention with a loud noise if they bumped into something in the dark. Taka had to admit that it made finding scrolls much easier than dragging them to the nearest window and hoping to read them by moonlight.
With the candle lit, the two girls made their way to the stacks that contained the information on herbs and medicines that Kiko enjoyed reading. Taka patiently held the candle for Kiko as she looked through a few scrolls in search of one that caught her interest.
“Eee! Taka-chan,” Kiko said, turning to her with wide eyes, “did you know that willow bark can be used to reduce fever as well as pain?” she asked.
Taka shook her head and raised a finger to her lips.
“Sshhh…” she hissed, her mouth turning up at the corners even as she did it. “You’ll let the whole school know we’re here,” she chided.
“But this is so important! I can’t believe they don’t teach us any of this.”
Taka shrugged. “If you paid closer attention in class, you might have noticed that willow bark was in the paste they had us make for moonpains last cycle.”
“Tsk…” Kiko chided. “No one remembers what the instructors say in that class except for you. You’re the only one who ever gets the medicines right on the first try.”
“That’s because I listen,” Taka rebuked. “You should try it sometime. Along with being quiet. Honestly, you’ll get us in trouble before I’ve even had a chance to find my scrolls.”
Kiko stuck her tongue out at her friend and Taka decided to walk away with the candle just to demonstrate her disdain. It was only a moment before Kiko caught up and had wrapped her arm through Taka’s once more.
“Hey!” she chided even as she reestablished their arm link, “I was trying to find a scroll that will tell me how to get rid of these awful spots on my face!”
Taka glanced at Kiko’s face and tried not to laugh.
“You should leave them. They’re the only thing that keep the other girls from hating you for being so pretty.”
Kiko laughed aloud and then had to throw her arm in front of her face to stifle the noise. Taka smiled, but she wasn’t actually joking. Kiko was by far and away the prettiest girl in their class, and the other girls really were jealous. If Kiko didn’t have the small spots she was so eager to cure, the other girls might dislike her as much as they disliked Taka for always getting her medicines right in practical classes. Taka sighed. At least Kiko never minded that Taka was good at healing. Or rather, she never got mad at her for it.
Taka reached the stack of scrolls she was looking for and handed the candle to Kiko.
“What are you looking for tonight?” Kiko asked, even as Taka began to run a hand over the scrolls that were on the top of the stand.
“More on animal healing,” she said. “I need something to hide my advanced anatomy scroll, and the instructors will start getting suspicious if I don’t move on from ‘animal husbandry’ soon.”
That made Kiko giggle, and just as Taka brought her hand up to shush the girl, she heard the sound of the shoji opening on the far side of the room. Kiko’s eyes widened even as Taka leaned forward to blow out the candle. The two girls stood as still as they could, desperately hoping not to make any noise. In addition, Taka worked desperately to tamp down on her kisō so that it matched the level of a normal josanpu, something she never had to bother with when it was just Kiko and herself.
The two girls tried not to breathe or shift or fidget, and for a few moments there was no sound that they could discern in the darkened library. Then Taka almost jumped from her skin when she heard the shift of a boot against the wooden floor not five paces from where they stood.
