Yatagarasu Series
Volume 6:
The Raven's Flourishing
Author: Abe Chisato
Part 5: Victory
When the Kuisaru entered the Forbidden Gate, Ichiryū was the guard on duty.
“Take your positions!” he shouted. “Everyone, prepare for the assault!”
The Kuisaru were attacking; the day they’d all been waiting for had finally come.
The Forbidden Gate was an irresistible lure to the Kuisaru. Soldiers from nearby barracks came rushing in; Ichiryū counted just over thirty. Reinforcements in large numbers would take time to arrive.
The soldiers followed their training, strengthening the defenses on the broken rampart. Archers nocked arrows. Yamauchishu carried jars and splashed oil around the Forbidden Gate’s entrance.
The Yamauchishu were on edge, but no one panicked. A few watched anxiously as the priest who’d been standing watch with them withdrew to safety.
Ichiryū understood how they felt. He hadn’t expected the Kuisaru to attack during his shift.
Shigemaru had died on his shift. He’d been the guard on the Forbidden Gate like Ichiryū was now.
“Sorry, Shigemaru,” Ichiryū muttered, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. “It was you and not me. Sorry.”
After the soldiers emptied their oil jars and returned to the rampart, Ichiryū climbed to the top of the wall. Water flowing from the coffins of past true Golden Ravens reflected the faint light emanating from the Forbidden Gate. He could see well enough even though the sun hadn’t fully risen yet.
The Forbidden Gate yawned open, showing Ichiryū a glimpse of the mountain god’s realm.
“Rejoice, you lot!” Ichiryū shouted. “We’re lucky bastards!” He felt every soldier’s eyes on him. “There are plenty of warriors in Yamauchi, but not many get a chance to avenge their comrades’ deaths! We are the vanguard of this battle. We’re the bravest warriors in Yamauchi right now. We’re heroes!” He raised his sword. “Let’s make them fight for every step into the White Raven’s Hall!”
“Yeah!” the soldiers shouted, their voices echoing in the hall.
The Kuisaru were approaching the Forbidden Gate from the other side. Ichiryū heard them marching and the clink of metal weapons and armor.
“Archers, prepare fire arrows! Fire when you see the enemy!” Ichiryū shouted.
Fire arrows sailed into the oil on the floor as the first Kuisaru warriors stepped into the White Raven’s Hall, bearing swords and large convex shields.
The Forbidden Gate lit up as bright as day.
Ichiryū felt a brief twinge of alarm. The Kuisaru that the Yatagarasu had faced before had all fought like mindless beasts; they’d never carried weapons or marched in formation before today.
“Crossbows! Archers! Get ready!” Ichiryū called out.
The crossbows aimed at the Kuisaru swarming through the Forbidden Gate.
“Crossbows—fire!”
Five bolts struck the Kuisaru shieldmen; two pierced straight through shields. Ichiryū heard a gratifying scream as two Kuisaru went down, tripping their comrades behind them.
“Archers! Fire!”
Arrows sank into the shields that the Kuisaru held aloft.
“Keep it up! Runners, make sure archers are well-supplied with ammunition! Don’t let them take another step!”
The Kuisaru remained hidden behind their shields, unable to advance under the rain of arrows. Fire burned around the Forbidden Gate.
For the next few minutes, the Kuisaru did not advance even one stride past the gate. Then one corner of the shield wall collapsed. A Kuisaru that had been crouching low threw himself forward. Paying no heed to the rain of arrows, he used the shield he had dropped onto the flames as a stepping stone and dashed forward.
More Kuisaru hopped after him, using the burning shield. A dozen gathered together to charge, all bearing clubs or spears.
The charging Kuisaru crossed the sea of fire with ear-splitting shrieks.
They were too fast—the crossbowmen were reloading, but they wouldn’t be able to fire until the Kuisaru reached the rampart.
“Fire at will!” Ichiryū shouted.
Many arrows pierced the Kuisaru; they fell to the ground with a dozen arrows sticking out of them.
The Kuisaru were not deterred. The one in the lead carried a spear with a glinting stone tip. He threw the spear; its head lodged in an arrow slit. He’d tied a rope to the end of the spear; with the spear point lodged firmly in the rampart, he began climbing up the wall.
The spear point had pierced the chest of an archer. Ichiryū saw it jutting out from the man’s back and lowered his head briefly.
A fierce melee battle broke out between the Yatagarasu defending the rampart and the Kuisaru trying to break through. There were shouts and screams in every direction.
“They’re too close for arrows!” an archer shrieked.
“Then draw your sword!” Ichiryū commanded.
“Do these bastards not feel pain?!”
The Kuisaru swept aside the sharpened bamboo stakes that covered the lower rampart, used the foundation stones as footholds, and began climbing the wall. One of them approached Ichiryū with an agility that should be impossible for such a huge creature.
“Damn you!” Ichiryū thrust his spear down at the Kuisaru climbing the wall directly below him.
The Kuisaru nimbly avoided his strike and seized the spear instead.
Their eyes met.
The Kuisaru flung the spear aside. Before Ichiryū could react, the Kuisaru kicked a stone protruding from the rampart and sprang up to his eye level.
Ichiryū reflexively leaped back. The Kuisaru landed where he’d been standing.
The top of the rampart wasn’t very wide. If either Ichiryū or the Kuisaru took one wrong step, they’d go tumbling down the rampart wall.
“Damn it! Die, you monster!” Ichiryū slashed out at the Kuisaru. His sword cut the beast, but shallowly; his blade wasn’t sharp enough to pierce deeply into the Kuisaru’s hide.
The Kuisaru swept a fist at Ichiryū’s head. Ichiryū dodged narrowly and took a cautious step back. The Kuisaru were accustomed to using their bodies as weapons.
In hand-to-hand combat, Yatagarasu were at a clear disadvantage against Kuisaru.
But that didn’t matter. Ichiryū had a battle to win. “Hold position!” he called out. “Keep them back!”
Ichiryū readjusted his sword stance and leaped at the Kuisaru.
***
“The Forbidden Gate is under attack!”
“The soldiers at the Palace Above the Clouds are mustering. We must send reinforcements!”
Suikan snapped the book he’d been reading shut and looked up. So it begins, he thought wearily. He looked out the window and saw soldiers forming orderly lines as they marched toward the carriage yard in haste.
Suikan waited until most of the soldiers were gone, then rang his bell.
“You called for me?” A Yamauchishu asked after a slight delay.
The guards treated Suikan with respect despite his confinement. He’d even been given a bell so that he could summon them immediately whenever he needed something.
These were Yukiya’s instructions, no doubt. The thought was infuriating. But the guards’ courtesy was useful at the moment.
“What’s going on outside?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” the guard said uncomfortably.
“I heard someone shout about the Forbidden Gate. Has a Kuisaru come through?” Suikan asked.
The guard appeared troubled. “Well, that is, um…”
“So they’re attacking.” Suikan clutched his head dramatically. “I told you! I told you all! This is what I feared!” He shouted that Yamauchi would be ruined, then gasped and pressed a hand to his chest.
“Lord Suikan?” the guard asked.
Suikan said nothing. He collapsed to the floor with his hand over his heart.
The guard panicked. “Huh? Lord Suikan! Can you hear me?”
When Suikan didn’t respond, the guard unlocked the door.
As the guard leaned in to turn his limp body, Suikan lifted both hands and seized the guard’s neck.
The guard struggled, but Suikan had practice and leverage; inside a minute, the guard was unconscious on the floor. Suikan stripped the man of anything useful—his sword, his Yamauchishu badge, and his identification papers. Then he put the soldier on his bed and left the hermitage cell.
Will I make it in time? Suikan thought.
***
The Palace Above the Clouds was quiet.
Normally, vendors’ stalls lined the main road and shoppers would be out making purchases. There was too much gloom in the air today; nearly everyone had chosen to stay indoors. Only a few market stalls were open.
Teruya blended in at the sparsely attended market, watching his surroundings surreptitiously. He caught sight of his own reflection in a water jar near the road. He’d never gotten used to his human form. His natural form had warm, brown fur that he missed on this chilly day. His clothing had been dyed black to match the feather robes of the Yatagarasu. His chronically unkempt hair had been brushed and weighted down with oil. He looked like any other Yatagarasu on the street. He could have been a commoner from one of the territories who’d come here for job opportunities.
Teruya was careful. He’d learned everything he could about the Yatagarasu before coming here. No one asked him any probing questions; he blended in perfectly with the laborers who were building new defensive structures at the Palace Above the Clouds. People recognized him now; he belonged here.
The Yatagarasu didn’t have the luxury of worrying about enemies hiding in plain sight. The battle at the Forbidden Gate had begun. Guards and soldiers flew overhead in a frantic rush.
All according to plan.
Of course the Yatagarasu would expect the Kuisaru to attack the Forbidden Gate. It was a stupidly obvious target.
But the real attack would come from elsewhere.
Teruya swallowed hard. He had a dagger up his sleeve, but no other weapons. He was a proud Kuisaru warrior, and he would do his duty.
***
Six years ago, Ōzaru had commanded the Kuisaru to infiltrate Yamauchi as spies. Their first infiltration route had been discovered; Ōzaru foresaw the war to come and wanted his people to be prepared.
Long before then, the Kuisaru had started seeking multiple ways into Yamauchi. Teruya didn’t understand all of Ōzaru’s plans, but he knew that the Kuisaru leader had learned how to break through the barrier that protected Yamauchi from being invaded from the outside.
At the time, the situation inside Yamauchi was still unclear. The Kuisaru were suffering through a long famine. Soldiers were sent to observe and hunt, and they brought back plenty of food for all—for a time.
But then the Yatagarasu invaded Kuisaru territory and killed one of them. The soldiers in Yamauchi were discovered and slaughtered.
The Yatagarasu had become aware of the Kuisaru. That was dangerous. Many Kuisaru wanted to invade Yamauchi to take revenge for their fallen comrades immediately.
Ōzaru urged caution. He made preparations for war, but he did not send more soldiers into Yamauchi.
Most of the Kuisaru gathered in a large cave to hear him speak.
“The Yatagarasu are fundamentally arrogant creatures,” Ōzaru said. “They are convinced that we are barbarians who hardly know how to speak. The time has come to make them regret their prideful attitude.”
“I’ll spy for you, my lord!” Teruya shouted. He raised his hand with real enthusiasm.
After that, many other Kuisaru volunteered as well. Each of them desperately wanted to avenge their friends and family. They wanted to come home as decorated war heroes.
Teruya and the other volunteers were rejected as spies almost immediately. Ōzaru shook his head and said, “For the first spy, a child would be best. Children aren’t expected to be proficient with language or common tasks.” He would teach the Yatagarasu language to a child who was motivated and clever.
“I’ll go,” nine-year-old Madoka said. He’d fought a Yatagarasu before and had good reason to go and fight them again. No one doubted his resolve.
With Madoka at the forefront, several intelligent young Kuisaru were selected. They were taught the Yatagarasu language, and then they entered Yamauchi through underground passageways.
Ōzaru had forbidden the spies from fighting the Yatagarasu under any circumstances. They couldn’t risk discovery. If they were suspected, they were to die as Yatagarasu. They were forbidden from transforming.
Child spies, drilled in these teachings, performed very well. Thanks to them, the Kuisaru had a perfect grasp of Yamauchi’s terrain and the inner workings of Yatagarasu politics.
And the Yatagarasu knew nothing about the Kuisaru. They had access to some Kuisaru in the mountain god’s realm, but they showed no curiosity at all toward the Kuisaru as a species. The Yatagarasu didn’t know how many invasion routes were open into their own territory. They didn’t know how many Kuisaru there were. They focused all of their attention on the obvious breach to their world—the Forbidden Gate.
The Yatagarasu were laughable opponents. Teruya believed that the Kuisaru had already won against them; it was only a matter of time.
“There’s plenty of food and weapons in the Palace Above the Clouds,” Madoka reported. Though still a boy, he had the face of a veteran soldier. “They think we’ll come in through the Forbidden Gate.”
But why would they do that, aside from misdirection? The Palace Above the Clouds was poorly defended. It was a soft target: easy to take.
“They’re hiring day laborers to build defenses, so even if there are unfamiliar faces, I don’t think they’ll notice right away.”
Ōzaru nodded slowly. “Hostages are effective against them. If they are building a fortress, important people will be inside.”
“All of the nobles are there,” Madoka had said. “Not only the noblewomen, but also the Crown Prince’s wife.”
“If we are to strike, it is there,” Teruya said.
Ōzaru nodded. “Very well.”
Teruya’s orders were clear. More and more Kuisaru trickled into Yamauchi, pretending to be refugees. They took jobs as day laborers in the Palace Above the Clouds… and they waited.
The children continued spying, feigning innocence. They found Yatagarasu stockpiles of supplies and weapons, and they identified targets to take as hostages.
When the time comes, we’ll make a show of it at the Forbidden Gate. We’ll use the distraction to launch our real attack, Ōzaru wrote to his spies.
After Yamauchi’s soldiers headed for the Forbidden Gate, the Palace Above the Clouds would be lightly defended.
Souke Territory’s central mountain and the Palace Above the Clouds were separated by a verdant forest. Yatagarasu flew over the forest frequently, but few traveled through it overland. The trees would provide cover for the Kuisaru as they marched. It was easy for the Kuisaru to reach this forest; they had several invasion routes in Souke Territory.
Ōzaru spent most of his time tracking the Crown Prince’s movements. While he was in the human world, the Kuisaru would launch a surprise assault on the Palace Above the Clouds. They would take hostages and seize as many supplies as they could carry.
If they managed that, the Crown Prince would be easy to control.
As a reward for his intelligence work, Madoka was given a splendid knife by Ōzaru. The knife had belonged to Ōzaru himself for many years. Tightly woven blue cord was wrapped around the hilt. When held up to the light, the blade became faintly translucent. It was an old family treasure.
Fighting was forbidden while they were in the mountain god’s realm, so Ōzaru had no need to carry the blade there. He gave it to Madoka as the boy’s first weapon.
Madoka loved the gift, but he found it awkward to carry. Teruya fixed it so that the knife could be worn hanging from the boy’s neck.
Why Ōzaru had given this knife to Madoka was easy enough to infer.
“Listen. Don’t do anything reckless,” Teruya cautioned Madoka.
“I won’t,” Madoka said. “But there’s something I need to do. I promise I’ll survive. No matter what.”
***
Madoka was Teruya’s cousin. He was somewhere in the Palace Above the Clouds right now, masquerading as a Yatagarasu just like Teruya was.
There were many Yatagarasu flying overhead. Teruya suspected that they’d been summoned to the Forbidden Gate. He counted fliers and compared the number to what he knew about the usual guard presence here.
If he was right, then the Palace Above the Clouds would be left with only a skeleton army. Ten percent or less of Yamauchi’s fighting force would remain here.
Teruya’s heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. He felt like his blood was about to boil.
Don’t rush, don’t rush, he told himself, chanting in his own mind. He waited until he saw no more Yatagarasu flying in the sky.
Then he whistled sharply, and his comrades came out of hiding. They nodded to acknowledge Teruya. Then they all started climbing up the outer walls of the Palace Above the Clouds.
Teruya reached the top of the wall and looked down.
A Yatagarasu soldier was walking below him.
Teruya smiled and waved at the soldier, who looked confused.
Teruya leaped off the wall.
“You bastard!” the Yatagarasu soldier shouted.
Before he could take another breath, Teruya slit his throat with a thin dagger. The soldier collapsed and stopped moving.
There was blood all over Teruya’s clothes, but he barely noticed. Was this supposed to be so easy? He was pleased that he’d killed an enemy, but the Palace Above the Clouds’ emptiness disturbed him. This should be harder. There should be more resistance. The Yatagarasu weren’t this stupid, were they?
I hate you, you stupid ravens, Teruya thought as his shadow loomed over the dead man. I had so many chances to kill you, but I didn’t. Just wait: Madoka and I will kill every last one of you.
But vengeance could come later. Teruya had his orders. He dragged the Yatagarasu corpse into a grove of trees to conceal it and then headed for the main gate of the Palace Above the Clouds.
Teruya ran into several sentries; most of them recognized him and allowed him to get close, which helped him finish them off quickly. He reached the main gate without anyone raising the alarm. He killed the gate guards efficiently and pushed the gate open.
There were several Yatagarasu on the main road beyond the gate. Some looked askance at the gate, but they didn’t seem afraid. They had no reason to suspect that there were Kuisaru walking among them.
Ignorance is bliss, Teruya thought as he sized up his next targets. He waved at the Yatagarasu on the street in a friendly way. Some of his companions waved back and started moving toward him. Fortunately, the black feather robe concealed a lot of the blood he’d gotten on him earlier.
At the end of the main road was a half-built rampart that surrounded the two main temples of the Palace Above the Clouds. The workmanship of the rampart was poor, and it was so short that Teruya could jump over it. The pitiful rampart didn’t hinder Teruya or his comrades at all.
The soldiers who usually oversaw the laborers had been sent out as reinforcements. None of the other workers were in sight. Teruya wanted to laugh.
Easy; it’s so easy! he thought.
One of his companions stood atop the rampart and made a hand signal. More Kuisaru came out of hiding and ran toward the rampart. They were all clad in black garments identical to Teruya’s.
At first, the Yatagarasu didn’t understand what was happening. As suspicious figures kept running in from the direction of the forest, they realized that something was wrong.
Those who fled to the temples and shrines higher up the mountain could be left alone for the moment. Those who challenged them could not be so easily ignored.
“Who the hell are you?!” An elderly Yatagarasu grabbed a Kuisaru’s sleeve, trying to stop him by force. “Stop—you mustn’t go that way!”
The Kuisaru exchanged an amused look with Teruya.
Teruya waved his hand, and the elderly Yatagarasu crumpled to the ground with a dagger in his chest.
Someone screamed.
Teruya’s companions threw off their black outfits and transformed. Their small frames grew so that they towered over the Yatagarasu. Their false feather robes tore apart, becoming black rags. Their faces turned bright red and deeply wrinkled, and their canine teeth sharpened to keen points.
Seeing their eyes gleam gold, the Yatagarasu fled in terror and confusion.
Teruya laughed. His companions cut down the Yatagarasu blocking their way with comical ease and pressed forward.
Fifty stalwart Kuisaru fighters—young and old, male and female—invaded the Palace Above the Clouds in their true forms.
Women and elderly Kuisaru could fight just as well as young men. Each of their warriors was worth a thousand frail Yatagarasu. If they could force their way into buildings and prevent the Yatagarasu from taking to the air, there was no way they could lose.
Soldiers who heard the commotion hurriedly gathered to end the Kuisaru threat, but they’d reacted too late. Teruya and his companions were past the main gate. They surged into the Palace Above the Clouds, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake.
The Kuisaru flowed into the temple complex like muddy water rising from a streambed. One group rushed indoors to capture the Crown Prince and other hostages. Those in supporting roles moved to bring the temple grounds under their control.
The screams of the Yatagarasu were music to Teruya’s ears.
Teruya’s task was nearly complete: he’d successfully led his forces here. Several of his people were hauling supplies from stockpiles down the mountain. He directed them to different warehouses and hidden locations.
He was engaged in the pleasant objective of stealing food when an arrow grazed his shoulder.
Looking up, he saw a surviving Yatagarasu standing on a watchtower. The man was trembling, but he drew back arrows and fired quickly.
Why doesn’t he run? Teruya thought, amused. We found the biggest fool among them, it seems.
Teruya easily evaded the arrow and ran up to the watchtower. The Yatagarasu transformed and tried to flee, but Teruya caught his leg and jumped off the watchtower. They slammed into the ground together with the Yatagarasu below Teruya, his leg crushed. Teruya heard the sound of breaking bone beneath him. He examined the Yatagarasu and saw that the fall had split his skull.
The Yatagarasu had died mid-transformation, so his face was very strange. Teruya laughed at the dead man. Then he looked around to see what his companions were doing. He heard women screaming; the hostage-taking must be going well. He couldn’t tell if his people had managed to capture the Crown Prince yet. One of his companions waved at him and smiled.
As Teruya looked out across the battlefield, he heard a dull, heavy sound.
The head of the Kuisaru who’d been smiling at him was gone.
Teruya didn’t understand what had happened.
A whooshing sound alerted him to danger above. Before he had time to look up, a sharp stone cut his cheek.
One of Teruya’s companions yelped; he had an arrow in his shoulder. Teruya was running to help him when he saw a stone split the man’s head open. One eyeball popped as he died.
Beside him, a Kuisaru crawling on all four limbs was struck directly by a stone thrown from above. His spine broke; he could no longer move.
The tide of battle had changed in mere moments. Teruya looked for places to hide. He kept low and rolled into the shadow of a huge pine tree. What he saw terrified him.
The Yatagarasu were here. All of them, or near enough as made no difference. Some—archers—rode on three-legged ravens; they were shooting down the Kuisaru from the sky. Most of the Yatagarasu were carrying nets full of stones that they deployed to devastating effect.
Three-legged ravens flew smoothly like waves crashing against a shore. They dropped stones from nets and then flew back to retrieve more ammunition from their comrades. Stones and arrows fell from the sky like hail.
Teruya locked eyes with one of the Yatagarasu soldiers.
An arrow pierced the pine tree inches from his head.
“Damn it!”
Why were the Yatagarasu here?! They were supposed to be at the Forbidden Gate!
Teruya heard the screams of his companions on the wind and winced.
“Hey, you!” one of Teruya’s men gasped out. “Stop shooting, or I’ll kill him!”
Teruya’s right-hand man dragged a tall, pale man out of one of the temple buildings.
The stones and arrows stopped.
That must be the Crown Prince. Ōzaru had said that the Yatagarasu were weak when it came to hostages. This battle was all but over.
Before Teruya could sigh in relief, an arrow pierced the Crown Prince’s shoulder, alarmingly close to his heart.
The Crown Prince fell to his knees, gasping. “It hurts! Pull it out!” He screamed as blood flowed from his wound.
The Yatagarasu resumed their onslaught, raining down stones and arrows.
The Crown Prince sobbed and begged, “Stop! Please stop!”
The barrage continued. The Yatagarasu would kill their own leader if it meant exterminating the Kuisaru threat.
“Are they insane?!” Teruya shouted to his surviving companions.
The man holding the Crown Prince captive was shot through with arrows and died horribly. The Crown Prince was struck by half a dozen stray arrows. He crouched down and shook all over.
Kuisaru stood behind hostages to protect themselves, but the Yatagarasu didn’t seem to care. They shot down their own people along with the Kuisaru.
Some of Teruya’s companions tried to retreat down the mountain so that they could call in Kuisaru reinforcements. These were chased down mercilessly by air and slaughtered by stones. Their bodies split open like overripe persimmons.
Teruya saw the entrails of his people scattered in the neat temple gardens. A few of his men lived, but they were all dying: seizing, convulsing. Several had fouled themselves. The air reeked of blood and excrement.
“Teruya, get to the warehouse!” a Kuisaru called out to him desperately. He’d hidden behind cover and hadn’t been hit by projectiles yet.
“On it!” Teruya called back.
The largest warehouse in the area was a weapons stockpile. If Teruya and his surviving companions took cover there, they might be able to hold out until reinforcements reached them.
Teruya rolled toward the warehouse. Fortunately, it was only a short distance away. He hid made his way there by the skin of his teeth while avoiding stones and arrows. Others who could still move joined up with him as he moved.
The warehouse door was locked. Teruya forced it open and entered, ushering the other Kuisaru inside. There were crates and boxes everywhere. Teruya brought his fists down on the lid of a supply crate and smashed it open.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“What?” one of Teruya’s companions asked.
There was nothing inside the crate.
“Aaaaaaah!” Teruya’s comrades smashed crate after crate, screaming.
“Nothing—nothing, nothing!”
“What does this mean, Teruya?!”
“Aren’t there supposed to be weapons here?”
Teruya had been investigating the Palace Above the Clouds for months. A large quantity of weapons should be stockpiled here; he’d seen the shipments come in daily with his own eyes.
Every crate was empty. Many had been abandoned in haste near the walls. There was nothing here that the Kuisaru could use.
“The damned ravens tricked us!” one of Teruya’s companions called out.
Teruya’s eyes widened. He’d thought that the Yatagarasu were flying to the Forbidden Gate—but they’d never gone there. They’d come here to arm themselves, and then they’d taken flight to bring the fight to the Kuisaru.
Suddenly, a beam of light shone down from above the warehouse. A small skylight opened, and several bottles crashed through it. The glass bottles shattered on the floor. A thick liquid that smelled like oil splashed everywhere.
Teruya gasped.
Fire arrows shot through the skylight.
In less than ten seconds, Teruya’s field of vision was a sheet of flames.
***
What Suikan saw when he finally reached the Palace Above the Clouds was horrific.
The civilians who usually lived in this part of the temple complex had fled before the battle. Corpses of Yatagarasu and Kuisaru littered the street. Black smoke rose from the Imperial Palace in the distance. An enormous cavalry force flew through the sky, almost blocking out the sun.
“Is anyone there?” Suikan asked. He was searching for casualties who might be saved.
“No! Stay back!” someone screamed from further down the road.
A Kuisaru had gotten into Tenren Temple, where lay priestesses served before taking their vows.
Suikan bit back a curse and dashed toward the temple. Why hadn’t they evacuated? There should be more soldiers on the ground.
As he ran toward the screams, Suikan recalled the meeting that had led to his confinement.
***
Shortly after the Kuisaru messenger had come through the Forbidden Gate, invitations were sent out to all of Yamauchi’s generals, military commanders, and strategists of note. Naturally, Suikan was invited.
The meeting was held in the lecture hall of the Keisōin where Suikan had suffered defeat at the hands of Yukiya a few years earlier.
It was night. Torches were lit in the lecture hall, casting eerie light on everyone’s faces. General Genya, Lord of Hokke and commander of Yamauchi’s armies, was also present.
A detailed map of the capital was laid out in the center of the lecture hall. Pieces representing soldiers and cavalry units were lined up along the edges of the map.
Yukiya took up position where an instructor would stand during strategy classes and swept his gaze over the faces of the meeting participants.
“Let’s use the Palace Above the Clouds as a decoy,” Yukiya said.
“You mean to leave the security of the Palace Above the Clouds wide open? To lure the Kuisaru there?” Suikan asked flatly.
“It’s the only way,” Yukiya said. “We make the Palace Above the Clouds look like a soft target. Then the Kuisaru will plan their attack there, and we can surprise them by being ready.”
“You would use His Imperial Highness and the other nobles of the Imperial Court as bait?” General Genya asked.
“We must protect Yamauchi at all costs,” Yukiya said calmly. “If the nobles know why we are doing this, I am confident they will go along with the plan.”
“But—”
“We tried to get the nobles to evacuate Souke Territory. They refused,” Yukiya said. “We have always known that the Kuisaru have at least one way into Souke Territory—through the Forbidden Gate. Our past battles with them suggest that they have more than one way into Yamauchi, but they’ve never found a way in that wasn’t connected to Souke Territory. The nobles decided to stay where there was danger. They’re part of our strategy now because of their own choices.”
General Genya remained silent for a long time, thinking.
Yukiya was respected as a strategist, but the final decision for all military matters and troop deployments was General Genya’s. He’d tried to convince the Lords of the Four Families to evacuate to the territories when the Kuisaru threat became apparent. He’d evacuated as many of his own people as he could from the Imperial Court. His failure to influence his fellow lords was something he felt acutely. Many people would die because Yamauchi’s nobles were stubborn.
“The situation is what it is,” Yukiya said to his grandfather’s stone-faced expression. “We use what we have. The Kuisaru aren’t stupid. Some of them know our language. They can take human form like we can and hide in plain sight. We should assume that their spies have already infiltrated Yamauchi.”
No one knew where the Kuisaru came from. The Imperial Court had investigated Souke Territory’s central mountain after a Kuisaru had found his way to the Keisōin’s training grounds, but no other routes connecting Yamauchi and the world of the Kuisaru had been discovered.
Yukiya was convinced that the Kuisaru had many secret ways into Yamauchi. They’d been rebuffed twice; it made sense for them to bide their time now and make better plans. They could do a lot of damage in secret. One of their spies could poison the water supply or a garrison’s food stores. General Genya had already given commands to post guards continuously at wells and storehouses, but there was no way to protect all of Yamauchi’s supplies.
One of the officers raised his head. “Wait. The Kuisaru know about our world, but we don’t know about theirs. Shouldn’t we be trying to send spies into their world? How else will we discover their numbers?”
Yukiya nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not clear if they have their own world or if they only exist on the fringes of other worlds. They could have superior numbers, for all we know. But they might not. They’ve attacked us secretly before, and that shows caution. We will prepare as best we can and pray that they don’t outnumber us. If our forces are evenly matched or only slightly outnumbered, we can still win through strategy.”
A few other military commanders started talking over one another. Yukiya made a cutting gesture with his hand, restoring silence. “They are hungry,” Yukiya said. “That has always been their motivation. The Kuisaru come here to eat us. I believe that they are suffering from a famine. They don’t have enough to eat, so they attack other places for food. I don’t think they want to destroy Yamauchi or wipe out the Yatagarasu. I think they want to enslave us. They’ll eat some of us, sure, but they’ll also need field workers for agriculture. I suspect that they don’t want a protracted war. They’ve taken hostages before, and they know that’s effective. We should expect them to try that again. If they demanded food or supplies in exchange for noble hostages, our people would comply.”
Many of the military commanders looked grim.
“We have disadvantages,” Yukiya said. “So do they. The Kuisaru are impatient. Luring them out of hiding to a place of our choosing should not be difficult.” He looked down at the map in the center of the lecture hall and then pointed to the Underground.
“We’ve received information from our scouts about one possible infiltration route,” Yukiya said. His finger moved from the Underground to the forest beyond Yamauchi’s capital city.
“Unfortunately, it’s not so easy to build defenses in an old-growth forest. It’s directly between the Forbidden Gate and the Palace Above the Clouds. I think our best option is to pretend to fortify the Palace Above the Clouds. It will give the Kuisaru plausible excuses to relocate there as laborers pretending to be Souke Territory refugees.” He tapped the Palace Above the Clouds on the map. “If I were the Kuisaru, I’d send a token force to the Forbidden Gate as a distraction. They’ll expect us to call in reinforcements to the Forbidden Gate, and then spring their attack on the Palace Above the Clouds.”
Yukiya looked around the lecture hall slowly.
“We’ll play into their plan. When the Forbidden Gate is attacked, our forces in the Palace Above the Clouds will take flight and pretend to leave. But we’ll double back and wait nearby. After the Kuisaru expose themselves, we’ll fly in and kill them with arrows and stones from above. The Kuisaru will attempt to arm themselves and steal food for their people. We’ll trap them inside empty warehouses and set them on fire. By the time they realize that we knew their plan all along, it will be too late for them to escape.”
A hush fell over the lecture hall. Many people turned toward General Genya, awaiting his opinion.
“I object,” Suikan said. “This plan is far too dangerous. You intend to put our people in mortal peril to lure the Kuisaru into a trap.”
“We will have Yamauchishu at the Palace Above the Clouds at all times. The risk to our people is negligible.”
“Don’t be absurd!” Suikan shouted.
Yukiya’s smile did not reach his eyes. “You’re right that there is some risk, but most of our people will be safe. Things will only go badly for us in the worst-case scenario—that is, if we are severely outnumbered. Also, I’m assuming that the Kuisaru are as intelligent as we are; that might not be the case. It is unlikely that they will cause much trouble for our soldiers.”
“The worst-case scenario is plausible,” Suikan said. “You cannot rule it out. The first part of your plan involves abandoning our people at the Palace Above the Clouds!”
“Only for a few minutes,” Yukiya said.
“As good as an eternity,” Suikan said. “Their warriors will cut through our civilians like rice paper. We need to evacuate the Palace Above the Clouds at once.”
Yukiya raised an eyebrow. “You want us to abandon the Palace Above the Clouds? What then? The Kuisaru could attack us anywhere, and we would have no warning. I understand that you reject my plan, but you haven’t proposed a viable plan in its place.”
“Yamauchi will not win this war in one decisive battle,” Suikan said. “We should be preparing for a protracted siege.”
Yukiya shook his head. “We had this same conversation when the nobles refused to leave Souke Territory. Preparing for a long war isn’t strategic. If it comes to that, we’ll be bleeding resources. We need realistic solutions to the problems we face.”
“It is realistic to evacuate Souke Territory,” Suikan said.
“No, it isn’t,” Yukiya said. “The nobles have refused. If we tell them to evacuate again, they will refuse again.”
Yukiya and Suikan didn’t yield an inch to one another.
General Genya, Lord of Hokke, stood up straighter. “I understand Suikan’s argument,” he said. “It would be better for us all if the nobles had agreed to evacuate Souke Territory. But they haven’t, and they won’t. Getting them to move to the Palace Above the Clouds was a struggle. They won’t move again in a hurry. I support Yukiya’s plan because it works with the situation we have.”
Several military commanders murmured in assent.
Yukiya didn’t gloat. He didn’t look pleased with himself. His face set in grim lines.
Suikan was determined to fight against Yukiya’s plan to the bitter end. “You are all fools who cannot think for yourselves,” Suikan called out. “Come up with a better plan! One that doesn’t place our people in the line of fire.”
“Yukiya’s plan is logically sound,” General Genya said patiently. “Your opinion has some merit, but we must consider the reality of the situation.” His gaze was vaguely pitying.
Suikan bit his lip. Yukiya had presented his plan clearly enough, and it seemed sound. It also made a lot of assumptions. Yukiya couldn’t know for sure how the Kuisaru would react to his planning. It was possible for any opponent to be outmaneuvered.
Yukiya knew that he was using his own people in an attempt to trap the Kuisaru in a location of his choosing. If it didn’t work, the results would be disastrous. If it did work, dozens or hundreds of Yatagarasu civilians would die.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Yukiya, please reconsider!” Suikan shouted.
He kept protesting until he was confined to quarters. Soldiers seized him by the arms and dragged him into a hermitage cell. As he was led away, he heard Yukiya speak again.
“Rumors are spreading that the Kuisaru will invade via the other territories,” Yukiya said. “We should encourage those rumors, even though they’re false. They’ll encourage the nobles to remain in Souke Territory. We can make it look like the nobles are bringing large quantities of weapons and food to the Palace Above the Clouds. Have the merchants ship empty boxes in daily…”
***
“Yukiya, you vile wretch!” Suikan yelled as he sprinted onto Tenren Temple grounds. Doors were smashed open and folding screens were torn and broken. He saw a Kuisaru dragging a woman by her hair inside one of the temple buildings.
Suikan drew his sword and sprang at the Kuisaru, slashing at the monster’s face. The Kuisaru stepped back and let go of the woman, who fled.
“Run!” Suikan shouted as the woman moved deeper into the temple complex.
The woman stopped moving.
“What are you doing?” Suikan asked, his eyes fixed on the Kuisaru. “Hurry! Turn into a raven and—”
“But, my son… I can’t fly while I’m holding him!”
Suikan noticed a bundle in her arms—a baby. The poor child was so terrified that he’d gone mute, his eyes darting in every direction.
“Then run on foot,” Suikan said. “I’ll deal with this one and then transform. I can carry you both. Now go!”
As he finished speaking, Suikan heard another Kuisaru shouting behind him in their strange language. He pushed the mother and her baby toward the temple garden behind him and faced the two Kuisaru.
“Don’t underestimate me, you monsters!” Suikan had been relieved of duty months ago, but he’d kept up with his regular training and conditioning.
The two Kuisaru seemed determined to take a hostage. He made shallow cuts to his attackers and then leaped back, focusing all his attention on protecting the woman and her child.
The Kuisaru were frustrated and flailed their arms wildly, attempting to break past his guard.
Then a boy emerged from one of the temple buildings carrying a spear that was taller than he was. He ran bravely at one of the Kuisaru, who caught the spear point and yanked the weapon out of the boy’s hand.
“Run!” Suikan called out.
The boy lost his footing when the Kuisaru took his weapon from him and slammed into the wall behind him. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
Suikan couldn’t move in time to save him.
The Kuisaru reached out to pick up the limp boy.
As Suikan cursed himself, Yukiya, and the Kuisaru internally, a man in a red robe jumped down from the temple roof, landing directly between the boy and the Kuisaru. The golden wheel pattern on his robe shone brightly in the light of the sun.
The newcomer slashed out with an impossibly impractical long sword and then stepped back to prepare for a lunge. In the time it took Suikan to blink, the swordsman had pierced the Kuisaru through the heart with his absurdly large and heavy weapon.
Suikan was briefly speechless.
Rokon gave Suikan a casual wave. “Lookin’ good, old man. Do you work out?”
“Rokon…” Suikan didn’t ask why he was here. He was tempted to ask why he was late.
Suikan didn’t understand why he was so irritated that Rokon, of all people, had come to save the day.
I never liked that man, Suikan thought bitterly as he faced down the next Kuisaru attacker.
***
Natsuka listened to the reports on the course of the battle restlessly. He wanted to be doing more—but his role at the moment was to keep information flowing. He was in Clear Mirror Temple with General Genya and other military commanders.
Clear Mirror Temple had been chosen as the base of operations for this conflict because it was closer to the Palace Above the Clouds than the Sun Palace. Yukiya had planned this entire operation with Natsuka’s assistance, so the temple was prepared to give logistical support. Messengers ran and flew to and fro. They’d received word of the Kuisaru attack on the Palace Above the Clouds within minutes. Yukiya’s forces were mustering here before flying back to the Palace Above the Clouds.
Natsuka watched Yukiya send messages and give orders with a growing sense of unease.
“The Kuisaru are attacking us with their women and children,” Natsuka said.
“So?” Yukiya said. “They’re attacking our women and children. We need to wipe them out—every last one of them.”
The messenger nodded rapidly and then ran from the hall.
Masuho no Susuki called the messenger back. “Wait! Please!”
Yukiya raised an eyebrow at her. “What is it? We’re all busy right now. If you don’t have an emergency to report, then you should wait.”
Masuho no Susuki didn’t react to his blatant discourtesy toward her. “If I weren’t here, I would be there. Other Yatagarasu are there. You used them as bait. You would have used me as bait.” Her voice was trembling. “And the Crown Prince. And Hamayū. How could you?”
“Shion Temple is near the summit of the mountain. It’s unlikely that the Kuisaru will make it that far before we counterattack.”
“Unlikely…” Masuho no Susuki’s eyes widened. “You heartless bastard!”
Yukiya sighed heavily. “Yes, yes. So what?” His eyes were cold and dead. “Do I need a heart to win this battle? Would you prefer it if I’d evacuated everyone and forced the Kuisaru into a long campaign that would claim even more lives?” He shook his head. “Fortunately, Prince Natsuka has agreed to deploy the priests of this temple on the battlefield. Rokon is leading them, and reinforcements are on the way. Try not to worry about things you have no control over.”
Rokon was a priest of Clear Mirror Temple. His fighting force was also made of up priests.
Natsuka hadn’t leaked Yukiya’s plan to Nazukihiko because he’d known that Nazukihiko would oppose it. He’d agreed to send his own men to the Palace Above the Clouds in an effort to mitigate some of the risks of Yukiya’s plan. Rokon’s men were priests as well as soldiers; there was nothing unusual about priests being present in a temple, so the Kuisaru spies should have no reason to be suspicious of them.
It occurred to Natsuka later that Yukiya had told him his plan specifically so that Natsuka would send his people to protect the Palace Above the Clouds.
Natsuka was used to being taken advantage of by Yukiya. He went along with Yukiya’s plans because he understood them, but he also understood why Masuho no Susuki was upset.
Masuho no Susuki clenched her fists. “You sent Rokon and his priests to the most dangerous areas. You’re going to get them killed!” she fumed.
“Someone had to be sent there to protect the civilians,” Yukiya said patiently.
“You’re a man without insides,” Masuho no Susuki said. “You have no blood or tears. You’re a statue wearing the skin of a person.”
Akeru stepped forward to calm his sister down. “Sister, the battle has begun. There is nothing anyone can do to change things now.”
“What do you mean? Of course there’s something we can do!”
Yukiya narrowed his eyes in irritation. “Masuho no Susuki, there is an order to operations like this. The fact is that we have been attacked at the Palace Above the Clouds, and we must respond. I know your stance on violence. I’m not telling you to fight. I’m telling you that the Yatagarasu are under attack and that our fighters must protect the rest of our people. Now that hostilities have begun, you have no right to interfere.”
“We aren’t talking about my stance on violence,” Masuho no Susuki said. “We are talking about the current battle, and how you set things up so that our people would be attacked on purpose.”
“Battlefields are no place for women,” Yukiya said firmly. “You have no sway here. So step aside and let me get to work.”
Masuho no Susuki stood before him, red-faced with rage.
General Genya, who’d been listening from a distance, averted his eyes. The other officers present pretended that they hadn’t heard anything.
How bizarre, Natsuka thought. He didn’t know what to say to Masuho no Susuki to calm her. Nor did any of them have time to explain themselves to her. The battle was in progress; that had to be the army’s focus now.
A messenger came rushing up to Yukiya. He saluted and then said, “Preparations are complete. Awaiting orders for departure.”
Yukiya turned around and saw Keisōin cadets standing in rows. They were ready to move. He smiled at them genuinely, all trace of his irritation with Masuho no Susuki was gone. “Everyone, thank you for coming. Your orders are simple.” He drew in a breath and shouted sharply, “Kill them all! Man, woman, and child—exterminate them!”
Some of the cadets blanched, but they saluted.
“Their females bear their young, and their children will grow up to oppose us. Do not spare a single Kuisaru,” Yukiya said. “Show mercy to even one pest, and it will multiply a hundredfold and come back for revenge.” He paused and then added, “Go and kill as many as you can! Otherwise, we will all die. Our friends and families will be eaten. Protect your homes and your loved ones! The Kuisaru have committed grave crimes against our people, and it’s got to stop. We are justice. We are vengeance!”
The Keisōin cadets appeared grim now, and frightened. They’d never gone to war.
“If you fear that killing will be a stain upon your soul, then blame me. I’m the one giving you these orders. The blood on your hands is my fault; you are all blameless and innocent.”
Several cadets looked down as if they were ashamed of their own thoughts.
“So kill them!” Yukiya shouted, his voice carrying to the farthest corners of the hall. “Kill them all! Our cause is righteous, and you are the saviors of our people!” He pointed out the window toward the Palace Above the Clouds.
The Keisōin cadets lined up and started marching forward. They were boys between fifteen and seventeen years old that had never fought in a real battle.
One of them was Yukiya’s younger brother, Yukichi.
If Yukiya was worried about sending children to war, he didn’t show it. The boy he’d been was dead. He’d joined the Keisōin to fight for his home. His resolve didn’t waver for an instant.
Masuho no Susuki turned her back on Yukiya and walked away.
“Masuho no Susuki, where are you going?”
“To Shion Temple. Hamayū is there,” she said matter-of-factly. “The injured will be brought there. I will be needed.”
It was likely that the Kuisaru wouldn’t reach Shion Temple in this attack, as Yukiya had said.
“Sister,” Akeru said quietly. He tugged at her sleeve. “Don’t. Please don’t go.”
“Don’t try to stop me.”
Akeru let her go.
Masuho no Susuki approached a window and shed her kimono, revealing the feather robe underneath. Then she transformed and started flying west.
***
Two hours after the start of the battle, the Yatagarasu had contained the Kuisaru threat. The Crown Prince’s decoy had been badly injured, but he would survive. Few defenders had fallen at the Forbidden Gate.
Yukiya received word that the situation was under control. He made his own preparations to depart for the Palace Above the Clouds so that he could take a closer look at the situation.
What Yukiya saw as he flew over the Palace Above the Clouds was carnage. Kuisaru lay in heaps along the sides of the road. Dirty straw mats covered in blood hid Yatagarasu corpses from view.
The sight of the dead drew no emotion from Yukiya. He’d done what was necessary. That was all he could do.
“Good work,” Yukiya told one of the officers stationed near Shion Temple. “Do we know how they got in?”
“We followed their footprints. Some of my people believe they’ve traced the route the Kuisaru used to get here.”
“Show me,” Yukiya said.
The officer was able to confirm the intelligence that Yukiya had received from the Underground: there was a cave between Souke Territory’s central mountain and the Palace Above the Clouds, and that cave was well-hidden by trees.
A second force might come from there. Yukiya ordered his soldiers to lie in wait and then returned to Clear Mirror Temple. He received no updates for hours.
Some of the soldiers held in reserve at Clear Mirror Temple grew restless. Yukiya understood the feeling. The Kuisaru hadn’t attacked in large numbers. The Yatagarasu expected another attack to come at any time.
Eventually, Yukiya got sick of waiting and sent scouts to investigate the cave that the Kuisaru attackers had come through. They found no sign of any living thing for miles along that route.
Haruma was dictating messages beside Yukiya when the reports from the scouts came back. “No way,” he muttered. “This can’t be it, can it? There have to be more of them somewhere.”
***
When Nazukihiko returned to the mountain god’s realm with the hero, it was quiet.
“I thought your people were fighting the Kuisaru here,” the hero said.
“So did I,” Nazukihiko said.
The hero’s dog wrinkled his nose.
“I smell blood,” the hero said. “Let’s go.”
The hero led his dog and Nazukihiko deeper into the mountain god’s realm. The Forbidden Gate was visible in the distance.
As Nazukihiko came closer to the Forbidden Gate, he smelled charred flesh as well as blood and nearly gagged. More than a dozen Kuisaru corpses lay scattered around the gate. The ground beneath them had burned; their red blood stained the blackened earth like scattered camellia petals.
Ōzaru stood near the gate, motionless, silent—and alone. He wasn’t mourning, angry, or afraid. He stood over his fallen soldiers like a statue.
“What are you doing?” Nazukihiko asked.
Ōzaru turned to face him slowly. “Oh, it’s you. I wondered when you would return, raven.” He smiled.
“What happened here?” the hero asked.
“A battle,” Ōzaru said. “Don’t worry; the ravens won. Congratulations. I don’t have a single soldier left to command.” His smile widened, exposing sharp canines. “There’s only one thing left for you to do: kill me.”
The hero frowned. “I’m here to kill you; you’re a monster. But why? Why did you do all this? Your actions led to the deaths of your own people.”
Nazukihiko had the same questions. He’d been fighting the Kuisaru threat in Yamauchi for years. He’d never known that there were so few Kuisaru.
“It’s obvious that the Yatagarasu vastly outnumber you, and they can fight in the sky where you can’t follow them,” the hero said. “Attacking them was foolish. You must have known you would be slaughtered.”
The hero’s role was to slay the monster, so he had to kill Ōzaru. But there must be young Kuisaru somewhere who’d never consumed the flesh of humans or Yatagarasu. They were innocent. It was hard to say that they, too, deserved to be slain.
“If you had never attacked the Yatagarasu, I wouldn’t have to kill you now,” the hero said. “Your people would be alive. So why did you do it?”
Ōzaru’s smile collapsed at the corners. “We were already dead. We died half a millennium ago. It was too late to save my people.” He shifted his gaze to Nazukihiko. “We have lingered like restless spirits, waiting for this day. I would like to speak with you for a moment, raven. Before the end.”
“Speak with me? About what?” Nazukihiko asked warily.
“I know why your memories have not returned to you.”
Nazukihiko gasped.
Ōzaru’s smile became serene. “I’m right, aren’t I? I know you’ve remembered a few things about the Forbidden Gate—but not more, right? You don’t know who you are.”
Nazukihiko nodded shallowly.
Ōzaru bowed his head to the hero and said, “New mountain god, I have no intention of fleeing or hiding from you, so can you grant me just a little more time?”
The hero glanced at Nazukihiko, who nodded decisively. The hero shrugged and then gestured to his dog, who took a step back.
Ōzaru bowed his head again, saying, “I am grateful.” He extended one hand toward Nazukihiko. “Come, now. Shall I tell you an old tale? It is ancient—a story from before the mountain god ever came to this realm.”
He dropped his hand and then told his tale.
***
“Once, a very long time ago, many gods dwelt upon this mountain. They were in the marsh, the fields, the trees, the beasts, the wind, the rain, and the thunder. They inhabited every living thing and force of nature. More than eight million gods were here, and among them were the Kuisaru and the Yatagarasu.
“Together, we served the sun god. The humans prayed to us in their temples. If offerings were presented to only one of us, the other would become enraged and curse the villagers. The villagers learned this and honored us both in equal measure.
“Thus, there were two gods who ruled Mt. Ara. The Yatagarasu and the Kuisaru were not friends, but they coexisted without violence. At times they quarreled, but they had always shared the mountain. There was a bond between them that could not be broken by ordinary means.
“One day, a god of thunder came to the mountain. The god said that he had come from the capital with his retinue because his rites were no longer being observed there. The god and his retinue were magnificent, wealthy, and wise. They brought with them splendid garments, works of art, and carts full of treasure pulled by horses and oxen.
“The thunder god said to the Yatagarasu and the Kuisaru: ‘Yield this mountain to me, and serve as my divine messengers.’”
Ōzaru paused and then said, “The leader of the Kuisaru was stunned. This was their mountain. There was no way they would hand it over so easily.
“The Yatagarasu god was different. He raised his wings in approval and agreed to serve the thunder god.” Ōzaru’s voice dropped, becoming harsh and bitter. “The Kuisaru god tried to reason with him. This mountain had always been theirs. But the thunder god’s retainers included a true Golden Raven, which the Yatagarasu god had never seen before. The Yatagarasu god decided to follow the true Golden Raven’s commands and forsake his claim to the mountain.
“The thunder god said that if we surrendered the mountain to him, he would grant us human forms, and language, and civilization.” Ōzaru spat these words contemptuously. “He treated us like slow children—wretched, base creatures who knew nothing. But we had language, and culture, and civilization already. We didn’t need him to impose his ideas on us.
“The thunder god made no effort to understand the primal wisdom shared among eight million gods. To him, we were primitives. His treasure and art were clearly superior to our wisdom and culture.
“The Kuisaru had pride. The Kuisaru god believed that the Yatagarasu god did as well. Until that moment in time, the Kuisaru god hadn’t understood what the Yatagarasu god was truly thinking. The Yatagarasu god threw away our history for the thunder god’s sake.” He growled low in his throat.
“That is how Yamauchi came to be. It was built in the style of the capital city that the thunder god had come from. He built the world he knew in miniature, creating Yamauchi as a dependent realm that drew upon his divine energy. He gave the Yatagarasu human forms and taught them his language.
“And the thunder god changed Mt. Ara. He cut down our nut-bearing trees and replaced them with wheat and rice fields. The Kuisaru couldn’t sustain themselves on less nutritious food. We didn’t want the human forms that were offered to us; those forms were weaker and worse at climbing trees.
“You said this to me, raven, when I dared complain about the changes to our mountain: ‘Why are you dissatisfied? We can serve the thunder god together and govern this mountain as we always have. There is food for everyone now; harvests are plentiful.’
“You did not listen to the Kuisaru. You understood nothing.” Ōzaru shook his head. “You expected us to be grateful to you.” Ōzaru stared straight at Nazukihiko. “The ravens were proud of serving a powerful god from the capital. They had no doubt that we would weep for joy and thank them. The ravens did not realize that their circumstances were entirely different from ours.
“I did not oppose you when you chose to become the divine messenger of the thunder god, but we Kuisaru refused to enter his service. We said very clearly that we did not wish to serve him.” He raised his chin. “Do you understand? I valued my own people over the arrogance of foreigners. And how did you respond? You tried to force us into submission.
“I never wanted to fight you, but I have a duty to protect my own people. I couldn’t just sit back and allow you to harm us.” He was speaking like he was a victim of grave injustice. “You struck first. Maybe you don’t remember that; I don’t care. The Kuisaru fought against the thunder god, but we did not succeed, and we were forced to bend the knee. Because of our defiance, Yamauchi was given to the Yatagarasu alone, and we were barred from entering it.”
Ōzaru frowned sourly. “The true Golden Raven from the capital had four sons who were granted land in Yamauchi. The Yatagarasu god married that creature, and their son founded your Souke family.”
Nazukihiko blinked.
“Yatagarasu gods are not immortal,” Ōzaru said. “Neither are Kuisaru gods. In time, the Yatagarasu god perished, and so did the first true Golden Raven from the capital. The Souke family began producing true Golden Ravens after that. They shared the memories of their parents. That is why the true Golden Raven is the progenitor of your species—your father and mother were both gods. That is what your old books mean when they say that.”
Ōzaru sighed. “My kind was forced to take human form and toil for the thunder god, who became known as the mountain god over time. We were given clothing, and we learned human speech and writing. But we did not desire any of these things. Your people trampled over us and destroyed our culture, our way of life. You believed that you had made yourselves a prosperous world that we could share. You flourished, and we stagnated. We were well-fed, but we were slaves.”
Ōzaru glared at Nazukihiko. “Did you expect us to be satisfied?”
I don’t know, Nazukihiko thought. I don’t remember.
Ōzaru snorted. “That’s right. You forgot. But we did not—not for a single moment.”
The Kuisaru had been waiting for a chance to take revenge. Their resentment had only grown during their centuries of forced service to the mountain god.
“After the passage of several centuries, change came to this mountain. The shrine maiden offered up by the villagers had functioned properly as a vessel for Princess Tamayori up until then. The woman offered as a shrine maiden that year felt that living as an individual was better than living as a servant of a god.
“People were starting to lose faith in the gods. I learned then that even the gods in the capital were starting to forget their old names and memories. I thought that this was an opportunity for my people.” Ōzaru’s voice was low and colorless. “I decided to turn the mountain god into a monster. I wanted to expose the crimes of the Yatagarasu. I encouraged the mountain god to attack his shrine maidens and consume human flesh. And I worked to make sure that the mountain god would not trust the Yatagarasu any longer.
“I hated the Yatagarasu more than anything. I still hate them. I want the descendants of the god who betrayed me to pay for what they did. I don’t care if we destroy ourselves in the process.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your own people for revenge?” Nazukihiko asked, horrified.
Ōzaru laughed. “I told you: we are already dead. You killed us. The only satisfaction left to me is seeing you suffer as you mourn your dead friends and family. I don’t expect you to apologize; I don’t expect anything from you. I worked against you and killed your people because I want you to suffer. And you have. This is my victory.”
“I don’t understand,” Nazukihiko said. “I can’t—” He was terrified of Ōzaru and the decisions he’d made. He wasn’t capable of sacrificing even one of his own people willingly. The only one he was willing to sacrifice was himself.
Why couldn’t he remember?
Ōzaru sneered. “Your memories still haven’t returned? Of course not. That’s your own fault, you know. When you abandoned the mountain god and sealed the Forbidden Gate, you gave up your role as the mountain god’s divine messenger.”
Nazukihiko remembered that. Naritsuhiko had said, “I will seal this gate. There is no other choice; I must forsake this realm.”
He hadn’t realized that meant forsaking service to the mountain god as well.
“The Yatagarasu god who shared this mountain with me discarded his god name when he yielded his role to the thunder god,” Ōzaru said. “His god name after that was shared with the true Golden Raven’s who came from the capital. Your predecessor discarded this god name when he refused to serve the mountain god. You have cast away every piece of yourself that matters, and now your artificial world is in peril.
“You are no longer a god,” Ōzaru said flatly. “You lead your people badly, but none of them can do any better. Your true identity has been lost, and you have been left behind—the pathetic product of one last drop of power squeezed from your dying divine bloodline.”
Ōzaru let out a soft chuckle, his throat rumbling. “I was astonished when I first met you. You had lost your self-awareness as a god, the memories of when you and I ruled this land, and even the memories of coming to this land in service to the thunder god. I couldn’t believe how reduced you were. It was enjoyable watching you stumble around like a hopeless fool. Your crumbling world is a result of your own poor choices.”
He drew himself up to his full height and bared his teeth. “In the end, you thought only of your own people. You cast aside your partnership with the Kuisaru. You forsook the mountain god. Don’t you think you deserve to be punished by those you betrayed?”
Nazukihiko trembled.
“Was it fun for you, living in ignorance for so many decades? Forgetting everything that was inconvenient for you and the Yatagarasu?” Ōzaru took a step toward Nazukihiko. “You forgot everything, withdrew into Yamauchi with only your own people, and enjoyed peace.” He snorted derisively. “With your ancestry, you should have been omnipotent in your own land. The moment you stepped outside, you were powerless and incompetent. That’s your own fault.”
Ōzaru took a few steps closer. “While you locked yourselves away, my people continued toiling for the mountain god. We made him hate his shrine maidens and encouraged him to remember your betrayal. We kept hating you and waited for you to return so that we could have our revenge.”
Ōzaru had invited Nazukihiko to the mountain god’s realm as a trap. He’d known that separating Nazukihiko from Yamauchi would weaken both the true Golden Raven and Yamauchi itself.
Nazukihiko hung his head.
“What if I told you that there’s still a way for you to save your precious Yamauchi?” Ōzaru asked.
Nazukihiko raised his face. The Forbidden Gate’s dim light shone down on him and the blood-soaked ground.
Ōzaru chuckled again. “Well, there’s no way to preserve it exactly as it is, I’m afraid. But you were a god of the Yatagarasu before Yamauchi existed. If you want to save your people, there’s a way.”
Nazukihiko swallowed hard.
Ōzaru smiled a terrible cruel smile. “All you need to do is recover your god name. Not the one you inherited from that golden fool who came from the capital—the other one, the one you had when you ruled the mountain with me. And do you know who knows that name?” He bared his teeth. “Me!”
Nazukihiko looked up at Ōzaru, frozen.
“Shall I tell you your god name?” Ōzaru asked, sing-song. “Now that I’ve told you who you really are, learning your name should restore your memories. It might work.”
Nazukihiko said nothing.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to tell you?”
“I do,” Nazukihiko said quietly. “I do want you to tell me.”
“Then kiss the ground at my feet. Beg me for forgiveness with your whole being.” He loomed over Nazukihiko. “You turned my people into monsters. It’s your fault that my people devoured yours. How does that make you feel? Do you regret it? If you want to apologize, then apologize. It might not be too late to save your pathetic world.”
Ōzaru folded his arms, enjoying the spectacle of Nazukihiko’s suffering from on high.
Silence fell. Nazukihiko heard nothing but his own breathing. He approached Ōzaru cautiously, step by slow step.
The new mountain god stood behind him, frowning.
The dozen steps between Nazukihiko and Ōzaru felt like a mile. Nazukihiko’s breath misted white in the frigid air. His footsteps echoed in the stillness.
After several seconds of torture, Nazukihiko reached Ōzaru. Around him lay the corpses of Kuisaru brutally slaughtered by Yatagarasu. He sank to his knees in a pool of blood.
When he lifted his face, Ōzaru was looking down at him impassively.
Nazukihiko lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” He prostrated himself, pressing his forehead to the ground. “I treated you and your people wrongly. I bear the terrible responsibility of turning you into monsters. It was all my fault. I admit it. Everything. Please forgive me. Please.”
He didn’t dare look up at Ōzaru’s face.
There was a silence, and then Ōzaru said, “I’ve waited such a long, long time to hear you say that.”
Nazukihiko raised his head. Ōzaru’s eyes brimmed with tears as he stared at the sky of the mountain god’s realm.
Nazukihiko couldn’t tell what he was looking at. Was Ōzaru lost in memories of when he and Nazukihiko’s Yatagarasu ancestor had ruled the mountain together? Or perhaps memories of his friends who had died?
Ōzaru looked down at Nazukihiko. Their eyes met.
And then he smiled. “Did you honestly think I would ever forgive you?” He didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired—resigned to his fate. “I swore that I would never forgive you, you usurper. You thief. I am satisfied now. I have no more desire for any of your apologies. Hate me and my people all you want. Go and die miserably in your own world. I’ll never lift a finger to help you.”
Ōzaru picked up the sword of one of his fallen people and held it aloft. “It serves you all right. This is exactly what you deserve.”
“No!” Nazukihiko cried out.
There was no time for anyone to stop him.
Ōzaru thrust the blade he held through his own chest. His blood spurted forth onto the blackened earth below. Nazukihiko rushed over to put pressure on the wound, but Ōzaru pushed him backward with a laugh. He laughed as he died, a pure, clean sound.
As Ōzaru’s lifeblood drained from him, his wrinkled face became smooth and rosy. His furry head shrank along with the rest of his body. His white hair grew long; his lips were full and smiling.
Just before he vanished into nothing, Ōzaru regarded Nazukihiko and the new mountain god in the form of a beautiful young woman.
Nazukihiko searched for Ōzaru’s body. All he found was the shrunken corpse of a small monkey that was so desiccated that it fell apart in his hands.
***
“Yamauchi is done for,” the new mountain god said quietly.
Nazukihiko was on his knees before Ōzaru’s shriveled corpse, stunned.
“There’s no one left to continue the rites, and the name of the old mountain god that existed before has been lost forever.” He paused. “Yamauchi is at an end. Whether that end comes in ten years or a century, I do not know, but its destruction is a foregone conclusion.”
Nazukihiko couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t understand his past self. Why had he forgotten everything, even his own identity?
“Why… did I forget…?” Nazukihiko gasped out.
“There’s no need to concern yourself with that, Your Imperial Highness,” Yukiya said. He stood before the Forbidden Gate, bow in hand. The gold embroidery on the sash that denoted his military rank glimmered in the low light. Akeru and Natsuka flanked him to either side. The Archpriest stood behind him.
“Yukiya—why are you here?”
Yukiya looked down at the Kuisaru corpses with clear distaste. “I killed these. Almost all of them, I think. I heard from the Tengu that you would be returning soon, and I received a message that there was another Kuisaru here. I came to clean this place up.” He was unshakably calm. “I believe I understand what Your Imperial Highness is thinking. But your memories belong to the distant past. No one knows what really happened back then. You can’t let guilt for crimes you don’t even remember control your actions.”
“Yukiya,” Nazukihiko said in a warning tone. “Enough. That’s enough.” He had good reasons to feel guilty right now.
Yukiya looked down contemptuously at Ōzaru’s corpse. “If the Kuisaru cared so much about justice, they should have made what they knew public. Ōzaru presented no evidence for what he said. We have no reason to believe him.” He snorted. “Even if he told part of the truth, he’s a god who killed himself. How reliable do you think his account is?”
Yukiya turned his unwavering gaze on Nazukihiko. “Kozaru did not resent us. Remember? It is possible that he felt gratitude to you for opening the gate. Ōzaru sacrificed all of his people. He didn’t bother to ask if any of them if they disagreed with him. Does that seem sane to you, Your Imperial Highness?”
“No. But I should not have forgotten.” He sighed. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve committed crimes. I don’t know how I can ever atone.”
Yukiya laughed. “Atone? For what?”
Nazukihiko looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t know how.
“Your Imperial Highness, do you want to atone for what we did to the Kuisaru?” Yukiya asked. “Impossible. Do you believe that we deserve to be punished? Isn’t Shigemaru’s death punishment enough?” His face contorted in rage. “That… that thing killed my friends. I won’t regret killing them all in response. It’s no more than they deserve. Dead men tell no tales. There’s no reason to apologize to a dead man.”
Nazukihiko looked at Yukiya and saw his pain. Yukiya couldn’t accept the idea that he’d done anything wrong.
“They ate us,” Yukiya spat. “If they wanted us to feel sorry, they could have talked to us instead of attacking us. They didn’t. This is their fault, not ours.”
In his rage, Yukiya looked oddly similar to the Kuisaru god he despised.
“Ōzaru is a colossal fool! He led his own people to the slaughter for the sake of vengeance.”
“Yukiya,” Nazukihiko said quietly. “We sacrificed people, too—so that we could win. I don’t want to repeat Ōzaru’s mistakes. Or mine.”
Yukiya laughed hollowly. “What are you saying? Our enemies are dead. Our sacrifices were worth the cost. Yamauchi was always going to disappear. We bought ourselves time to save the Yatagarasu. That’s what matters. It matters more than anything else.” He crouched down over Ōzaru’s corpse and scowled. “Don’t tell our people Ōzaru’s story. They don’t need to hear it. I will protect you, secrets and all.”
Yukiya stood and saluted. “You have forgotten your god name, but you are still a true Golden Raven. You are our leader. Don’t ever forget that.”
He was about to leave when his gaze drifted to Ōzaru’s corpse. “Reflect, don’t regret,” Yukiya said. “I’ve never regretted anything. I won’t now. There’s no way to change the past, even if I wanted to.”
As Nazukihiko took in Yukiya’s grim smile, he understood why Eiju had burned so many books. He shuddered.
***
The sun rose over the Keisōin the next morning. Yukichi wiped the sweat from his brow and looked out the window.
The Keisōin cadets who’d participated in the battle were still performing cleanup: burying their own dead, burning Kuisaru bodies, and sending reports about fires and structural damage. The injured were carried to aid stations and Shion Temple.
The Kuisaru bodies that hadn’t been collected yet became objects of ire. Yatagarasu children kicked them and threw stones at them. No one stopped them.
The Yamauchishu performed their usual duties. None of them relaxed. It was possible that the Kuisaru would still attack from elsewhere.
Yukiya had gone to the Forbidden Gate last night, and he hadn’t returned yet. Yukichi’s eyes swept the mountain, searching for signs of his brother. The sky was clear and cloudless this morning. He saw a Yamauchishu patrol pass overhead and saw a familiar gold-embroidered sash.
“It’s Yukiya!”
“He’s returned!”
Cadets called out to one another and started grabbing weapons, uniforms, and shoes; it was possible that they’d be sent out again. The emergency gong wasn’t struck, so no one hurried. It looked like Yukiya and the other Yamauchishu with him would land in the carriage yard.
Yukichi couldn’t wait for his brother to find him, so he transformed and flew after him. Several other cadets followed him.
The moment Yukichi entered the carriage yard, he saw his brother being mobbed by cadets.
“Has His Imperial Highness returned?”
“How many Kuisaru are still left?”
Then Yukiya saw Yukichi and smiled. “His Imperial Highness has returned safely. There are no Kuisaru in Yamauchi. We won.”
A cadet blinked. “We won?”
“This is our victory.”
Cheers and applause broke out all around Yukiya in an eruption of sound. Some cadets cried from relief.
Yukichi hugged the cadet beside him and cheered loudly. The war was over, and they had won. He felt proud that he’d protected Yamauchi in battle.
Yukiya’s companions urged him to climb the steps and give a speech. He looked up at the sky, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Today marks the beginning of a new era in Yamauchi.” The sun shone on his shoulders as it rose, illuminating the red tints in his hair. Every cadet in the carriage yard was listening.
“We have sacrificed much for this victory. Our families and friends were slaughtered indiscriminately by those monstrous Kuisaru. We have been wounded, and many of those wounds will never heal. But we have won.” He looked up at the sun. “We won! All of us. Our cause was just, and we have exterminated the evil from our home. Our allies who fell in battle will watch over us as heroic spirits. We will never forget their names.” His eyes were clear and shone brightly.
“The Yatagarasu are a proud people. We love our home more than anything. I have never been prouder to be a Yatagarasu than I am today. Without all of our strength, Yamauchi would have fallen. Be proud! Be happy! Our people have peace because of every one of you. As long as Yamauchi has defenders, it will never be destroyed.”
He placed a hand on his chest and saluted.
“Yamauchi, may you flourish!”
The cadets saluted, all shouting, “Flourish! Flourish! Flourish!” Their voices rose into the sky like sparks from a raging fire before fading away.
It was a beautiful morning in Yamauchi. More and more people took up the chant of the cadets until even people on the road outside the Keisōin were shouting for joy.
Then Yukichi noticed one of the cadets walking toward his brother. He was just a kid in a feather robe, but he looked nervous. Yukichi guessed that he and the boy were about the same age.
Strangely, the boy didn’t look happy. There was no expression on his face at all.
Yukichi saw the glint of metal in the boy’s hand.
“Yukiya!” Yukichi yelled. “Look out!”
His warning was drowned out by the joyful chanting all around.
Yukiya had turned away and was headed inside the Keisōin. Some instinct made him turn back and discover the boy running at him with a knife drawn.
The boy broke into a run, charging straight at Yukiya. As he ran, wrinkles creased his face and brown fur sprouted all over his body.
A Kuisaru!
The boy evaded capture easily, slipping through the hands of cadets that tried to stop him. He leaped at Yukiya with a black, gleaming blade in his hand.
Yukichi heard screams. When the crowd parted slightly, he saw a shining blade jutting out of the Kuisaru’s back.
No one moved. The carriage yard had gone silent. Yukiya drew his own sword and pierced the Kuisaru through the heart, ending his life. He didn’t appear troubled in the slightest, not even when blood ran down his fingers.
The Kuisaru spent his last moments looking between Yukiya, the blade in his hand and the one through his chest. He gurgled blood and then collapsed.
On the ground, the Kuisaru reached one hand toward Yukiya.
Yukiya didn’t move.
The Kuisaru’s face twisted, crumpling in despair as the boy realized he couldn’t reach Yukiya. “Youta,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Yukiya reacted to the name. He looked like he was about to say something, but the Kuisaru was already dead.
Yamauchishu appeared to haul the Kuisaru’s body away. Yukiya withdrew his sword from the corpse and cleaned it on his feather robe. The Kuisaru’s strange black knife was left behind. Tightly woven blue cord was wrapped around the hilt.
“Strategist Yukiya, are you all right? Are you hurt?” Haruma asked.
Yukiya didn’t answer. He stared at the dead Kuisaru’s face as the boy was hauled away. The boy hadn’t had time to fully transform before he died, so he looked half-human, half-monster.
“Yukiya!” Yukichi ran to him. “Are you all right?”
Yukiya looked his way. His gaze flitted back and forth between Yukichi and the Kuisaru—only once. Then he sighed heavily. “I’m fine,” he said. “It seems that there are still a few rogue Kuisaru among us, hiding in plain sight. Let’s conduct an inspection. All Yatagarasu must transform to prove they are what they say they are.”
Turning his back to the corpse and Yukichi, Yukiya issued commands to the Yamauchishu around him.
Yukiya didn’t look back at the dead Kuisaru even once as he walked away.
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