The Shadow of Issu

Father's Legacy

Hina strikes the tree and splits it into two.

“Again.”

“Are we aiming to clear this forest of tree, grandfather?” She sarcastically asks.

“You may have done what you were tasked, yet still, the way that you use the Kuratashi is crude, inefficient, and unrefined. Save your strength, allow the blade to cut it down, not with your full strength.”

“Is not to cut a tree in half something that is already a feat a few swordsmen can perform?”

“You are not an ordinary swordsman, you are Iyone Hina, disciple of Goundo Hase, and these techniques are something that only those of my own blood are taught. I have no children, and I no longer have the ability perform them for my age has significantly slowed my body down…” He picked up his own Kuratashi. He stood before a tree, and drew the blade. Hase closed his eyes and filled his lungs with the cold mountain air. He draws the blade and strikes the tree with unwavering force.

The trunk was the thickness of a person, and from where Hase’s blade struck, a diagonal cut showed as the tree fell beside him. After displaying the ability, he dropped down to his knees, panting.

“Grandfather…”

“I am okay.”

“You truly are a show-off.”

The man’s hair has started to turn grey, but that smile had not known any time. He stood up, his figure showing no deterrence from what age has weakened it to be. Hina looks up to his adoptive grandfather with great respect and reverence. She knew of his feats when he was still in his youthful days, how Goundo Hase slew a thousand men who threatened to take away Goundo from his people.

He was a prodigy. Hase developed new techniques of the Discipline, breaking orthodox and inefficient movements from several techniques and enhancing them. Some even deem Hase to be a Bladesworn, but it was never true, for he did not perform the Rite of Blades.

Still his reputation as a swordsman preceded him, and all of Southern Katen knew of his capacity.

“That is why I will see to it that you will complete and perfect it.” Hase spoke to Hina. Even as a mischievous teen, Hina knew when matters of duty weigh heavy. Hina was already fifteen, and she still questions why her grandfather decided to dedicate the rest of his days to teaching her these esoteric techniques.

From this point in her life, she was taught the basic stances of the River Blade—the water stance, Muzi Hiru, the stone stance, Kumu Hiru, and the wind stance, Fushi Hiru.

Her mother, Iyone Nizu, died just three years after Yoshida’s death. It was the time when he finally disclosed to the nine-year old Hina that both of her parents were now in eternal rest. Hearing that, Hina did not weep. There was only acceptance in those eyes, and a deep and quiet sadness.

This intrigued Hase. Her ability to take such devastation with a terrifying collectedness was surprising for a child her age. He knew that if she could teach Hina the sword, she was going to be a powerful swordsman.

On her thirteenth winter, the war against the Ukumari came to an end. The capital’s intervention, and their reliance upon the Kinu’s blade work instantly wiped half of the Ukumari army in just a month. Yet, still there was one strange thing that bothered Hase, even after the war was finally over—from all the tidings that were disseminated all across the regions who fought for Issu, he never once heard again any distinction of the woman that Yoshida described.

There were no reports of swordsmen who brought down the power of the heavens, and killed a man so fast the eye could not see it. Even the Kinu could do no such thing as summon lightning, at least not in this day and age.

Even to this day, he wonders with fear.  

By her twentieth winter, Hase began to notice the exceptionality of Hina’s skill. Though the rascally spirited flame from her youth had not completely subsided, her eyes began to show a fierceness that Hase once knew. These were the same eyes that he sees when he ponders upon his own reflection.

Outside training, Hina becomes a woman of her own, enjoying the tantalizing flavors of youth, even though she had only recently forfeited to being one.

She flirted, drank, and got into fist fights, but when it was back again to training in the grueling cold of the Guondo peaks, Hina changes into a deadly swordsman. Her moves were extremely precise, as such that she could cut a piece of hair midair with eyes closed. Her movements were fast, fluid, and adaptive, the movements required of the discipline of the Mizu Hiru.

It was during these years that Hina began to experiment different techniques, styling different moves to execute them faster, while allowing minimal use of strength as not to exhaust easily. Training atop the mountain for several hours of the day, it was easy to lose focus and lose strength, and she knew these struggles for three years more.

Eventually, Hina became a respected swordsman throughout Goundo. Enlisting herself to become part of the Goundo’s first Shin, she upheld the responsibility and took a vow to protect their region from those who threaten it.

The years that befell upon Issu was hinged on an unsettling peace—something beyond that deep and hollowing quietness harbored a festering unrest that people denied. It did not take long for Hina that even if there was no utter reason to hold the Kuratashi, save for the occasional deliverance of outskirt villages from raiders and bandits, this time of uncomfortable silence was a greater reason for her to stick close to her doctrines.

She would be lying to herself if she had not pondered upon his father’s death, and why her grandfather still refuses to speak of such.

This brought her search to places that reached far from home, to lands where things from beyond the dealings of men are kept secrets in the tongues of those who survived the Seven Year War.

Hina led a battalion of Tenshando to the ruins of the great land bridge under the premise of scouting the area of a rogue swordsman who has been murdering by passers in the dead of night going to the road of Southern Katen. She disguised it as a mission to try and confirm survivors of the Ukumari.

In truth, she wanted to go back to where forty-nine of the greatest Tenshando swordsmen met their tragic ends by the Ukumari. The Hundan Pass was said to be a place where those who pass through it relive the past that haunts it, and so many merchants speak of these through strange visions and nightmares, these dreams that recur in almost terrifying accuracy.

She led ten men on horseback for seven days and six nights, and they reached a small city just west of Hundan Pass where the river flows directly beneath those ominous highlands—this was also the same river where Hase escaped from the Ukumari seventeen years ago.

The place was called Kado, a river city, now reoccupied after the settlers sought shelter to the west mountains when the threat of Ukumari attack was evident. Now that the Ukumari onslaught was stopped in the land-bridge, where they encamped and began to expand their attacks on three sides, Kado became an official city recognized by the capital and was the route of exchange from the east waterways to the western cities.

But if there was something that circulated better than commerce in the river-city of Kado, it would be hearsay. For now, even the slightest of clue that leads her to the truth of her father’s death. Hina would take, even if they were just rumors.

She sends the six Tenshando back to Goundo to bring back news of this rogue swordsman’s demise. Meanwhile, the remaining five meandered through Kado. All of them were covered in robes and hoods to try to remain as inconspicuous as they could be as the person that they were looking for was a man who was to face retribution.

“Izuki.” Hina calls one of her associates.

A woman her age opened a scroll and read through them. “They say the man was spotted just near the Kado woodlands south of here, the townsfolk don’t seem to be bothered by him so as long as he stays where he is. A Kado girl, who is said to be his lover, provides for him in the mountains.”

“Shame, even a traitor beat you to a woman, Minato.” One of the Tenshando jested.

“Big talk, Maru.” He squinted his eyes. “I thought the capital hunted for the traitors, it’s been thirteen years already, this man must have had someone help him escape even a Kinu’s pursuit.”

“Unless, of course… it was a Kinu that helped him.”

“You speak such amusing things, Maru.” Hina faces back to her colleagues. “Amusing, but not entirely impossible, Izuki found out that this person had some help, but her intel didn’t seem to reveal any of it.”

“Fear of being killed?” Maru asked.

“No,” Izuki answers him, closing the scroll and putting it back in its tube. “Fear of revelation—there are ulterior motives that work around the intentions of those with authority and power. Now, the Kinu are the closest kind of power they can acquire, that whose code is bound by unwavering loyalty. If one was to disclose these schemes, it would not simply just cause them their own demise, the whole shady system becomes exposed, and this exploitation of power becomes useless unless it stays quiet, and all of Issu remains in the dark.”

“Izuki… Do you really think this?” Minato asks as if what she said was something profane.

“Those whom the Kinu serve become unassailable. No one in the history of Issu has one died from assassinations when under a Kinu’s protection, until…”

“Until what?” Maru, the youngest of them all, asked in pure question.

“The Kobuke Estate.” Minato answered for him.

Then as if he had suddenly realized, hearing those words cultivated the truth behind the m******e and the burning of the estate. Fundamentally, it was because of a Kinu that had gone rogue, who failed to protect his master and his own land. Many claims that had begun to circulate was that it was the Kinu himself who orchestrated the Kobuke downfall. Yet to this day, no one really truly knows the truth.

“Where Izuki’s strength lies, there is much doubt where truth should be placed.” Another voice came behind them—the fifth rider was a rather older person.

Hoga Ichiru, one of Hase’s long-serving Tenshando. He came to Hina the day before to come with her on her pursuit of her father’s death. He came clear that he knew Yoshida, and once treated him as a son, but just as Hina was denied the truth of his death by Hase, so was Ichiru.

“Since the dawn of time, Issu was forged in bloodshed, taken apart by those who competed with power. To this day, even with all these accords and truces, there is hardly any difference—a single spark would be enough to leave Issu asunder, and we will all once again go back the age of the great warlord, Ictha.” The old man continued, then he fell silent.

“Old man Ichiru, do you always talk like that?” Maru.

He raised his head, his eyes weary and tired. They stared at Maru as if he waited for the answer.

“Speaking only in the most perfect moment to make you sound super cool?”

“Maru.” Minato reprimanded.

“No, no, I just think that it is—”

“Iyone.” Izuki interrupted the chatter.

“Let me handle this,” A group of men were walking to their direction. Many of them were armed with swords and spears. None of them seemed to be Tenshando, probably just guards compensated handsomely by rich merchants. It seems the presence of five shady riders seem to catch them off.

Hina went down from her horse and fixed the saddle from the side. Her swords were strapped along with the minimal provisions kept in the travel satchel. She walked to their direction, the wind ruffled the edges of her cloaks as she held the hood to keep her face concealed until she finally came face to face with these men.

She lifted her hood, and she stared right into the eyes of those swordsmen.

“You seem far from home, girlie.” A large man recognized her presence. “What brings you to Kado?”

Hina lifts her head and notices a blockage in front of them. The men were deliberately piling up crates across the road with more of them ganging to reinforce the message.

“Is this… Is this not a public road?” Her face was filled with confusion. A sarcastic half-grin began to bear on her lips.

“What’s it to you?” He asks.

“You see, according to my associate, this road leads out to southern Kado forest…” She looks to her right, where the river was filled with all sorts of cargo boats. She then proceeds to shift her eyes left, where buildings and settlement homes dwelled and no decent road was paved until a few blocks back, and even then none of them lead outside to Kado forest. “This seemed to be the only viable road going there, and your men seem to be posing quite the deterrence.”

“You saying you have a problem with it?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

The man was taller than her, she leaned forward, his eye glaring down on Hina’s—they were calm and relaxed. Suddenly he breaks out in laughter.

“You’re Tenshando, are you?”

“Yes. From Goundo.”

“Ah, the city of the renowned Lord Hase. The man is well known in these parts.” He turns around and the men returned to their work, hauling the crates to the boats as they began to clear out the road. “His feats ring throughout these lands with such voice that it lingers in the air and the mouth of townsfolk.”

His eyes shifted to the bleached mountains facing north. Then he goes back to face Hina and grins. “Forgive me for coming up to you like that, there have been recent reports of a clandestine cabal near these lands, we just wanted to make sure that our intuition was not far wrong.”

“Were we really that conspicuous?” Hina asked.

“Oh no, it was that old man behind you. Something tells me I have seen him before, his mien… I cannot describe it—you of Goundo have a certain distinction, though subtly, albeit I cannot tell why.”

“What is this cabal you speak of?”

“Have you not heard of it? They’ve been trying to recruit swordsmen all over Issu. No one really knows what their intentions are, but I’ve heard rumors that they’re coalescing for a reform. There has been no casualty, but we never know when they would start killing people. No one knows them, and no one can really tell who has joined with them. Our employer, Onjou Iyama, paid us quite a profitable sum to see his cargo reach Ogana.

“Us?”

“We are the Salted Tigers of the West! Fifteen men from the brave Okka western shores. Once pirates, now honest men of trade.”

“Quite the courteous bunch you are to uphold public safety, as to even question the five of us.”

“Well… the presence of threat is always bad for business, wherever our employer’s commerce thrives, we see to it that it is in the safest, most profitable, state possible. Maybe that way, Onjou may even award us twice the sum.” He grinned.

When the road began to clear, the four paced on forward, Minato handed Hina the reins of her horse as she calmed the steed with a few pats on its forehead.

“So we are cleared to pass?” Minato asked.

“As clear as Kado waters, master.” The man spoke.

“Who is this?” Izuki follows.

“Ah, where are my manners. Mushigo Chou.” He bows. “We were only guaranteeing the safety of those around us at the current time, forgive us for keeping you.”

Chou’s eyes wandered and they met Ichiru’s. Suddenly a sense of hostility came from him, Hina caught it, but as her gaze kept to Chou, the man chose to let things pass smoothly. They were veiled in an awkward silence for a while, Chou’s hands were positioned to reach his saber, while Hina’s was already by the hilt.

Mushigo Chou stood straight up and smiled.

“I may be asking too many questions now, but I guess one more will not hurt. Are you perhaps here for a Kaito Hiro?”

Hina tilted her head, ambivalent if she would answer that question or not.

“Yes.” Ichiru answered for her. The other four turned to him. “We have heard that he dwells south in the Kado forest with a young girl.” The old Tenshando continued.

“I see.” Chou replied, though his tone seemed to suddenly change.

“Are you here to kill him?”

“No.” Ichiru replied.

“I see.” Chou spoke. “Very well then, I would not like to waste another second of your time, I wish you the best of luck.” He turned and went back to the docks, his men had almost finished loading the cargo boat.

He passed by Hina and whispered something to the wind, low enough for others to catch, but loud enough for Hina to hear. “One of your companion is tainted.” He spoke and disappeared into a crowd.

The five rode on without a single word. That strange encounter was already forgotten by most of them, save for Hina, who became intrigued by what that man said to her. Tainted, what did he mean by that? Was she supposed to know something that led on to her understanding of such an ambiguous statement. Something about that Chou seem to hold hostility against Ichiru. Did he not say that he had not met him before? Something was already strange.

Hina’s attention was fixated on Ichiru.

About two miles into the forest, they spotted smoke going up the canopies.

“Kaito seems to love his life of isolation.” Maru spoke.

“A self-imposed exile, most likely.” Izuki answered.

“Under normal regulations, this man should not even be allowed to live. If people like him had not existed, the Ukumari would’ve already been stopped before they crossed the landbridge. This man’s exile does not pay the debt of the thousand lives that his treason has cost.” Minato spoke.

“So what do you suggest we do? Kill him?”

Maru turned his head to look at Hina, who was keen as ever to listen to her colleagues’ chatter. All that her countenance wore was a glare in deep rumination.

“Something bothering you, Hina?” Minato rides beside her.

As if from a trance, she sits straight up and blinks several times. “Yes, I am fine.” She answers. Her eyes wandered back, where she Ichiru followed without saying a word. He was just riding behind them, worryingly.

“There is something about Ichiru that seems a little bit off.” She whispers to Minato.

The young man lowered his chin and took a quick glance back. “Why do you say so?” He asks.

“I’m… I’m not really sure. Forget that I said anything, Minato.”

They followed the smoke until the group was led on to a small clearing where a house was built in the middle. The five stationed their horses a far distance from Kaito’s abode, Hina went down from hers first. Her hands caressed over the body of the animal until it found its way to the Kuratashi that was strapped to its side. Her fingers coiled around the handle, she unsheathes a part of it, the sheen of the metal shone for a second under the cluttered sunlight that fell from the thick canopies around them. She returns the sword and turns away.

“I will be alone to meet with Kaito, the four of you stay and keep watch.” Hina commanded and the four nodded in agreement. She meandered on until she disappeared from the eyes of her peers on the road going to the small cottage.

Izuki looked up, something felt amiss—the wind, the trees, the stillness of the forest. She tied the hanging cord of her Kuratashi to her hip and waited beside her horse. The breeze ran through her short hair as the cold crawled from her nape to her ears, hissing.

Her eyes scrutinized the surroundings, each dark corner of these solitary woodlands where light was shared between the dissipating darkness to the well-lit spaces of unfettered skies filled with tortuous canopies from where they stood and kept watch. Her stare was then cast to Ichiru, who seemed to be clutching his chest, his breathing becoming noticeably ragged.

“Water.” The old man began to frantically wheeze. “…I need water.”

Hina came upon the front door of the small cottage. There was no answer. She knocked again, waited, and still there was no response. Inside smelled like cinnamon and dried fruit, and the smoke was surely unmistakable, someone was surely home.

She did not bring her Kuratashi, but she could at least manage to open the door with brute force. When she winded to strike it, she heard footsteps nearing her.

“May I help you?” A woman asked.

Hina reversed, and she was met with a girl. She was perhaps a few years younger than Hina. Her hair was golden and her face was small and well-shaped. Though with a small and petite figure, she seemed to be at the prime of her womanhood. On her arm was a basket that brought about greens and mushrooms.

“Is Kaito here?”

“Oh, Hiro must be inside. We usually do not get visitors, and Hiro does not like answering strange knocks on the door unless it was me. It happens sometimes, most of them in the dead of night. Hiro tells me not to open them no matter what, and I listen to him. He refuses to speak of it, too.” She pouts.

“Someone knocks on your door during nightfall?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, with excitement.

A strange woman, Hina thought to herself. The two stood there faced to each other in a deep silence until the woman jumped to her sense, all flustered and jittery. “I-I am Ichika Yua. You may call me Yua, my lady, I do not mind it at all.”

“I am Iyone Hina, from Goundo.”

“Goundo? What a far place. You must be exhausted. Did you come on your own?”

“Yes.” Hina lied.

The girl stands straight up and excused herself to the entrance, she knocked once and the door opened without any restriction. The scent of the spices was stronger than outside, but this time, there was something that filled the air with a strong smell. Something that could only be described as blood mixed with the scent of plum, partly burned. There were also no windows, and the space was filled with all sort of bizarre and off-putting paraphernalia.

Hina could have sworn that she saw fingers sewn to cloths and bones arranged to create shapes of oddity. Whatever Hiro’s interest entailed, they seemed to be tied to some mystic heritage. It is not necessarily deemed illegal to practice divinity in Issu, but it was shunned and prohibited unless the region allows the practice—such as the infamous crowmen in Ogana.

“Forgive us for the mess, it has been quite a while since Hiro let me clean. He doesn’t want me touching anything, Oh! And speaking of touching—do you see that, lady Iyone?” Yua pointed at the foot of the house’ walls were a white line was drawn continuous from the entrance.

“Terribly sorry, but I would kindly ask of you to refrain from stepping on the line.” She told her. “Hiro says that it is what protects us from the evil outside during dusk.”

“Why do you live with such a man?” Hina asked.

Yua smiled as a response. It was a sad smile, but one that seemed content. “Master Hiro is not a bad person.” She whispered. “I fled from the northeast during the wars and settled here in Kado, but…”

“They treated me like a monster for my heritage and my face. My father is an Ukumari, and there is the same Ukumari blood running through my veins. To survive in the unforgiving streets of Kado was… I cannot even describe all of it…” Yua raised her hands to her shoulders as if hiding something that she did not want to reveal to her visitor, for fear that it may disgust her.

But Hina listened there and fell silent.

“When master Hiro came, he was the only one who treated me like a fellow human being. Little did I know of what he did and who he was. One night, I was assaulted by the same men who I sold my body to so they would stop threatening to kill me. Master Hiro came upon the scene and… did something. The next day those men disappeared. No one really knew what happened to them, but ever since then, people stopped harassing me. One night, he asked me to come with him and he took me here— gave me food and a shelter. For everything that master Hiro has done, I would surely repay him with the best of my ability… though he seems already content with my company and warm food.” She smiled.

She opened a hatch which led on to a small space below them. Inside, a man sat in front of what seemed like an altar. He was reading something in the dim lights that surrounded them.

“A visitor?” He spoke, his back to them.

“Yes.”

“You are Kaito Hiro?” Hina spoke.

“We settle this upstairs. Please, lead our guest to the table and give her something to drink, her travel must have been weary.”

The two went back and Yua prepared her some tea. What Hina saw in that decrepit basement was nothing short of strange, but she did not bring it up. Momentarily, Hiro came up and his gaze was met by Hina’s austere look. He cast his gaze down, shifting from them, as if this eyes were taken aback by guilt. He was a sickly thin man, with a pale countenance, and a slouched back. He walked strange and the expression on his face was eccentric and twitchy. There was a deep sadness evident on his face, but this did not garnish any empathy from Hina. She was here to know leads of her father’s death, not to save this man from any judgement that awaited him.

He takes a chair and sits across Hina.

“Have you come to take my life? Master?” He bluntly asks.

The Tenshando ponders, and stares at him. His pupils seem to dodge her steady gaze, trying its best not to meet them. She stirs in her seat to make herself comfortable.

“No, I’ve come for other matters.”

Strange. There was no relief that came after when she spoke those words, there was not even a single grain of reprieve from the prospect of him keeping his life. A Tenshando, capable of striking him there and then for the treason against their country, sat beside him.

“I thought just as much, for you do not even bring a sword.”

That was right, she was armless. Hina had left her Kuratashi back at the forest where the others waited.