War Priest: The Complete Series, page 47
There was nothing rigid at all about Hojo’s movements, yet there was poise to them, which told Arik that if a trap was sprung, or some hidden opponent tried to jump out at them, Hojo would be ready.
Arik felt a pang of sadness that the School of Illusion had disbanded. In this way it was like his organization, although the teachings of the school and those who understood them still lingered in the Jade Realm. To do things like what Hojo was clearly capable of, and to recognize an aspect of chi that was much more existential, was incredibly rare. It was something that should be cherished.
All three branches should be cherished, in Arik’s opinion.
He didn’t know much about Yokaura, but he assumed that it was equally important. What if he spent as much time studying Chimaura as he did Revivaura? What if he could augment this by studying Thunderaura? Could there be such a thing as a master of all three chi branches? If there were, what would it do for the three realms of Taomoni? Could it show people that they had much more in common than they may have originally anticipated?
Arik cast these thoughts away for now.
He was starting to feel hopeful, and he knew that now wasn’t the time nor place for optimism. After all, the reason he was in Moonagwa was to find out how to procure a deadly weapon, one that he had no real idea about aside from the fact that Coro Pache once wielded it. There was a passage in his book about the weapon in usage, but all it said was that it was able to strike two opponents in the time it would take someone else to strike one. Arik didn’t know what this meant, but he was eager to find out.
Anything to give him an edge, literally.
They were just reaching the outskirts of the residential area when Hojo stopped Arik. He tilted his head ever so slightly, as if he were smelling something in the breeze. Arik tried to do the same, but didn’t notice anything aside from the scent of burning wood coming from a few of the homes.
“I want you to stay back,” was all he told Arik as he pressed forward, “and remain as hidden as possible.”
“What are you planning to do?”
Hojo ignored this question as he came around the bend in the road, passing around wooden containers used for grain. Rather than continue on, Arik crouched in the shadows, his eyes focused on the master illusionist as he approached a Jadean soldier.
Concentrating fully, trying not to blink, Arik watched Hojo creep up behind the larger Jadean guard. Hojo struck like a cobra, rushing forward in an instant, his hand going into the small of the man’s back, his other palm over his face, cupping his mouth. He dragged the soldier to the ground and held him for a moment until the man stopped resisting.
“He’s not like us,” Meosa reminded Arik.
“Not like us? I’m more like him than I am like you.”
This statement caused Meosa to laugh. “I suppose you’re right in that regard. But could you do something like that? I’m asking you honestly, my boy.”
Hojo glanced in Arik’s direction and motioned him forward. As he approached, he found the master illusionist uncorking a small flask he had tucked in the pocket of his robes. He spread some of the contents of the flask on the cloth part of the man’s armor, and rubbed some on his face as well.
Arik recognized the smell immediately.
“Alcohol? Where did you get that?”
“When he is discovered, which will happen on the next patrol, they will think that he drank himself into a stupor. He will deny this, of course. He will say that someone attacked him from behind and put him to sleep. They will laugh. The technique I used isn’t one that would be known by a common Jadean soldier. If there were true shinobi on patrol, that would be one thing.”
“You put him to sleep?”
“I did. A deep slumber that will add to his confusion when he wakes. There may be another soldier at the exit.” Hojo shook the flask, Arik hearing that it was about half full.
“Where did you get alcohol anyway?”
“I stole it from the storyteller,” Hojo told him, in a tone that made it sound like this should have been obvious. Arik thought back to Hojo’s interactions with the storyteller.
“I don’t remember—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Hojo motioned for Arik to follow him into the drainage ditch. They reached the cage locked from the outside, Arik assuming that Hojo would pick the lock. He did no such thing.
“The man has keys. Grab them, and return.”
Arik turned around and crouched before the soldier, wary to go through the man’s pockets. He could smell the alcohol now, and there was a warmth radiating from the man. It was even stranger once he actually had to touch him, Arik expecting the soldier to come awake any second.
The soldier snorted, causing Arik to nearly fall on his back. He caught himself just in time, found the ring of keys, and returned to Hojo.
The master illusionist unlocked the cage door and opened it. The door was also lockable from the inside. “This is good for us,” he told Arik after he checked the bolt again. “Return the key to the soldier just how you found it.”
Arik once again approached the man and stuffed the key into the pocket of his robes, gritting his teeth the entire time as Meosa chastised him for moving slowly.
“He won’t wake, and if he does, the supposed illusionist can just put him to sleep again. Next time you’re restless, perhaps he can put you to sleep as well… ha!”
Arik didn’t reply to Meosa as he returned to Hojo, the pair soon entering the drainage ditch once the door was locked behind them. They crept along in the darkness, the smell of wet metal overpowering. Hojo seemed to know the way, and every time Arik thought he had lost the master illusionist, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Just ahead.”
“Why aren’t there torches in here?” Meosa grumbled, even though he knew the answer to this question. This was supposed to be a secret passageway, and lighting it up would expose it to outside influences. This did get Arik thinking about the guard that Hojo had neutralized. Wouldn’t his placement be an indication that something was important there as well?
Am I really starting to think like an illusionist? Arik thought at some point as he came to a stop.
Hojo started up a ladder, a bit of light from above allowing Arik to see where he was going now. He soon joined the master illusionist, the two climbing for a decent amount of time and arriving at the back of a storage room, just as the storyteller had said.
“This could be the tricky part,” Hojo told Arik, the master illusionist now crouched by a crate. “The guard will likely be directly in front of that door, but there may be another solution.” He tilted his chin up to the rafters, Arik noticing that the boards looked quite sturdy. “I will check it.”
Hojo produced his grappling hook and sent it up.
Once it was secure, he began climbing, the master illusionist effortlessly scaling to the top of the rafters of the storage house, where he crouched and shuffled forward. More light came into the room as Hojo found an exit point and opened it.
He didn’t need to tell Arik to follow him. The disciple went to the rope and began pulling himself up, secretly appreciating the boost that Meosa gave him toward the middle. He could do it, he’d used a grappling hook before, but the boost helped, and soon he was in the rafters as well.
He removed the grappling hook and carried it with him as he joined the master illusionist, who now crouched before a triangular opening in the rafters.
“From here we move to that rooftop, and down to the ground as if we were inside the city limits all along.” Hojo flicked his finger in the direction they would go. “You have done well tonight, disciple, but we aren’t in the clear yet. Stay vigilant.”
****
It wasn’t what Arik expected, but nothing was when it came to studying under Hojo.
He felt stupid now, assuming that the School of Illusion had a place in the city limits, Arik all but expecting there to be a hidden nook somewhere with a bed for him to sleep in. Instead, the disciple found himself in an old barn, one of its walls pressed up against the earthen wall that separated Moonagwa from the rest of the Jade Realm. Not only that, there were a pair of goats currently residing in the barn, and while they didn’t mind Arik and Hojo’s presence, they were much more inquisitive than he would have liked.
Arik tried to get some sleep, first going through a breathing technique he had learned in his first years at the Academy of Healing Arts, counting his inhales and his exhales, imagining his chi replenishing. When this didn’t work, he tried to quiet his mind, the disciple noticing at some point that Hojo was fast asleep, not at all disturbed by where they had chosen to slumber.
If Hojo could do it, he could at least give it a try.
Soon, Arik was out as well, no dreams, one of the goats that had taken a liking to him settling next to the disciple. He officially awoke hours later with the same goat now gently nudging him in the back with its stumpy little horns, Hojo already seated and petting the other goat.
“You would be the kind that would befriend a goat over a person,” said Meosa, in his vaporous form not far from Arik.
“I would have an animal if I wasn’t always on the move,” Hojo said, once again softening the biting nature of Meosa’s remark with his reply. It seemed relatively impossible to get under Hojo’s skin, at least from what Arik could tell. He took some inspiration in this, especially as Meosa started to tease him.
“Once the goat gets bigger, maybe you can ride it, my boy.”
Arik shook his head. He sat up, the smells of the barn all hitting him at once.
“Are we going to role-play as goats any longer, or are we ready to go find this lady shaman?” asked Meosa. “Not that I mind staying in a barn with the two of you, but I can certainly think of places I would rather be.”
“I would rather be in Avarga,” Hojo told the aqueous kami. Hojo used the bowl of murky water before him to clean the rest of the make-up off his face. Hojo motioned to it and Arik began doing the same, the cool water invigorating in its own way.
Arik checked himself in his compact mirror to make sure all the make-up was gone. After he dried off, he made sure that he still had the copied message from the Coro Pache book. Ready to learn of the itako’s prophecy, Arik joined Hojo, who was now crouched in another area of the barn.
“Remember, as naturally as possible. We do not have papers, and if we are asked for them we will be forced to make a hasty decision.”
“What would we do?”
“You wouldn’t do anything, disciple. I would use Chimaura. I know that you have questions regarding the proper usage of this power, and this would be one of them. We are putting ourselves in a situation where it will be harder for us to deceive others, not only with the daylight, but the location itself. If we are in fact checked by one of the guards, I will handle everything. Do not worry about that part. You should only worry about what the itako has to say about this passage. You do have it, do you not?”
“I do.”
“Good. Say goodbye to the goats and we will leave. I’ll do the same.”
Arik was surprised to watch Hojo slip around him and drop before the goat that he had been petting earlier, a brindle one with blue eyes. He placed his hand on its head once again and moved on, Meosa never commenting on the master illusionist’s actions.
Hojo led Arik out of the barn, the two hypervigilant as they transferred onto a cobblestone road covered in mossy patches. It was remarkable what the city planners had done with Moonagwa. Everything was clean and orderly, no beggars in the street, and little grime. All the buildings were well-maintained too, many with elaborate gables painted white.
Arik spotted three of the city guards with shields, each carrying a spear that had Jadean flags draped around them. Hojo naturally turned well before they reached the guards, the duo transitioning to a narrow lane that passed in front of an old cobbler seated on a stool, hammering nails into the bottom of a leather boot. Rather than continue on, Hojo stopped before the man and greeted him.
“It appears that the supposed illusionist likes running his gums,” Meosa said as Hojo conversed with the cobbler, the man with cracked wrinkles on his face and thick knuckles covered in calluses. He had the forearms of someone who worked with his hands, and while he was thin, he was also muscular.
At just about the point that Arik tuned into what Hojo was saying, the master illusionist moved on, waving goodbye to the man.
“Did you know him?”
“No, but he thinks I do. This is a subtle way to cover your tracks. If we had caught the eyes of those guards, they would have witnessed us spend some time speaking to the cobbler and may have assumed that we were locals that they just hadn’t seen before. There could be other guards, too, those on perches using monocles, spotters. One never knows, and because one never knows, it is best to always blend in regardless of the proximity to your target.”
“She lives around here?”
“The itako does, yes. Right here, actually.” Hojo stopped in front of a nondescript building with a thatched roof. There were no markings on it, but upon further examination, Arik noticed that small figurines had been set up around the entrance steps.
“Shoes off, disciple.”
Arik did as instructed, placing his boots next to Hojo’s. He noticed a difference in the way that their gear was made, Arik wondering if there was a specific cobbler that shinobi used. He hadn’t given much thought to Hojo’s footwear, but looking at it now, he could tell that it was much more malleable than his.
Careful of the figurines that lined the steps, Hojo reached the top and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he went for the handle to find that it was loose. The master illusionist let himself in, and motioned for Arik to follow.
Inside was something else entirely, the room wide with high ceilings, various items draped from the rafters. In his quick look, Arik saw everything from hanging bones to rune carvings and other symbols. There was also a powerful scent to the air, something between burning wood and incense, which was coming from two trays of red embers set up on either side of the door.
Seated in the center of the room on a wooden block was the itako, her face painted with white and red lines. She wore a headpiece with small antlers on it and had numerous piercings on each ear, her robes fashioned out of a thick green material that matched the gemstones on each of her fingers.
“We are here for your assistance,” Hojo said as he came forward and got onto his knees. He bent forward and touched his forehead against the ground, mere inches away from the woman’s feet.
“State the purpose of your visit,” the itako said, her voice telling Arik something else about the woman. She was young, and couldn’t have been much older than him, her shamanic gear aiding her to some extent, especially with the way it obscured her form.
“We have a text that needs completing.”
“And what do you bring me?” she asked Hojo.
“What is it you would like?”
The itako tilted her head to Arik. “For one, I would like for you to show yourself, kami.”
“If that’s what you want.” Hojo swept his hand toward Arik. “Reveal yourself.”
“Telling me what to do…” Meosa flared up, and took his form next to Arik. “Happy?”
“Good.” The woman took a slow sip from a small cup of tea. It was then that Arik noticed just how dilated her eyes were. Then he saw something else, something he should have sensed earlier. The itako was bleeding. Not only that, she was bleeding badly, the blood dripping from the sleeve of her green robe onto a saucer.
“Are you…” Arik wasn’t supposed to speak, nor was he supposed to reveal his powers. Instead of completing the sentence, he merely bowed his head.
“If you are wondering if I’m injured, a bit, yes. I had to let my blood out this morning as a precaution. Do not mind the blood. It will…” She slouched forward.
“Disciple,” Hojo said with urgency.
That was the only word that Arik needed to hear.
He was next to the itako just a few moments later, chi swirling around his hands as he began to heal the woman. Arik experienced the wound for just a moment. It was deep, but it was also fresh, which made him wonder when she had actually cut herself.
He didn’t have to wait much longer for his answer as she came around with her other hand, a knife in it, the itako driving the tiny blade into Arik’s arm. He jumped back, more surprised by her movement than he was by the sudden flash of pain.
Arik grabbed the small blade and yanked it from his arm, wincing as he did so, the wound starting to heal up almost immediately. Hojo picked up the blade and pointed it at the itako.
“This wasn’t the way your predecessor behaved.”
“I was merely testing a vision,” she said, completely relaxed now, yet carrying a mischievous grin on her face. “I’ve never… never been healed like that before.”
“So you stabbed him?” Meosa asked incredulously. “Say the word, disciple, and I will drown the devil woman.”
“No need for that,” Arik told him as he glanced at the wound. Aside from the dried blood, there wouldn’t be anything left of it. Arik approached the itako and sat before her, hoping to show the young woman how little her actions had disturbed him. Hojo remained standing, the tiny dagger he was carrying now dripping Arik’s blood on the wooden floor.
“You said you had a vision?” Arik asked.
