War Priest: The Complete Series, page 98
“If we were further south, yes. But not here on the border, where these things are freely worn. But you do have a point, kami. Perhaps it is best that we leave them here, and retrieve the hats at another time.”
“We could certainly do that,” Arik said. “I’m sure Indra and Kojiro won’t mind.”
“That settles it. Let’s get across the border before Istvan starts up another one of his fights. We still have to locate him, you know.”
“We visited once,” Arik told her as he began getting ready. “I know where to look for him.”
“And it’s not like he’s hard to find. He’s a muscled bald guy with a flaming hammer.” Meosa morphed into a form that halfway resembled Istvan. “I’m much more worried about crossing the border than I am finding him.”
****
Once he was packed up, Arik bid farewell to Indra and Kojiro.
The tanuki’s whiskers twitched as he looked up at Arik, fondness in his eyes. “We will be sad to see you go. It is always easier around here when we have someone who has a command over Revivaura. I wish you well on your journey, and while Indra and I would love to see you again, if we don’t see you again, it’s probably for the best. This is a lackluster existence here, yet someone has to do it. People like us…” He motioned to the nursemaid. “This is the sacrifice we make.”
“We will return,” Arik said as he offered the pair of them a short bow.
“I’m sure you will. Who could leave behind such nice hats?”
After a little more conversation with the tanuki and his assistant, Arik joined Tayaura outside. The illusionist motioned for Arik to step in front of her. “Lead the way, disciple.”
Arik turned south, in the direction of the border. The two merged into the crowd that was passing through the main thoroughfare. There seemed to be more people out than normal, and Arik wondered if there was an event happening. As he had noticed over the last week, he often got so obsessed with what he was doing at the colosseum that he didn’t know what else could be happening in the city.
It was only as they reached the market to purchase square hats that Arik sensed a subtle change in his surroundings. Scanning the streets in front of the market, Arik noticed the awnings over some of the windows rattling. A powerful wind kicked up, rippling their robes. What Meosa said to them next had Arik placing his hand on the grip of his sword.
“Enenra is here. Prepare yourselves!”
****
Terrible gusts of wind raged through the streets of Omoto. The force would have struck Arik and Tayaura had it not been for Meosa, who swelled forward to meet the other kami head on. This caused a spritz of wind and water to twist around as locals scattered, as debris hit the airwaves.
Tayaura drew her blackened blade. The illusionist took a wide stance to keep steady. Arik’s response was different. Instead of immediately going for his sword, he went into his other pocket for the Mask of the Fallen. Crouching down, Arik tied the mask around his head.
He was glad he had a moment later. The lines extending from the mask found points not only in the sky, they also connected with some of the people that were scattering, helping him track them. A particular red line caught Arik’s attention, one that rose all the way to a rooftop across the street where he saw Lady Nene.
He had fought Lady Nene before, in a tournament in Mogra, and then at Nobunaga’s encampment. It appeared that she was with Enenra. The southern warrior skirted along the edge of the rooftop, her embroidered haori cape beating in the wind as she prepared to drop to the ground.
A rippling wind provided stairsteps for Lady Nene, who launched an attack toward Tayaura. Arik ended up preventing her sudden assault with the Whispering Sword, the blade slithering forward to block Lady Nene’s opening strike.
At this point Tayaura spun, meeting her opponent’s next strike head on.
With Meosa fending off Enenra, and Tayaura taking on Lady Nene, Arik moved to help the locals clear the area. It wasn’t easy, especially as a twister cut through, toppling some roadside fruit stands, and sending produce and chunks of wood into the air, the projectiles aimed at fleeing citizens.
Arik charged toward the opposite end of the road, where he saw a man trying to shelter a woman with his back. “Come with me,” Arik said as he reached them. It was only then that he saw how badly the woman had been injured. A trail of blood dripped down the side of her cheek from a piece of metal lodged in the side of her skull, one that would soon prove fatal.
“I have to do this here,” Arik said, aware of how serious a cranial injury could be. He took another look around and caught Tayaura holding her own against Lady Nene. Good. Bolts of wind and water lashed at everything in the vicinity, tearing apart anything they came into contact with. Bad. Arik had never seen anything like it. If Enenra hit a person with the kind of attack she was using against Meosa, it would likely tear them to shreds.
He was just turning his head back to the local woman, prepared to heal her as best he could, when Arik stopped. In returning his gaze to the battle between Meosa and Enenra, he noticed something that he hadn’t spotted earlier.
The red beams from his mask were also extending into the air, aimed at targets that seemingly weren’t there.
It dawned on him in that moment what these targets were, especially if they kept switching. The mask was targeting Enenra.
Had he seen them before? Arik tried to think back to the times he had watched Enenra in action. He didn’t remember seeing them in his previous encounters, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Not only that, the last two times he had dealt with the kami were under great duress.
It’s a way to stop her, Arik surmised. The Whispering Sword was pointing out avenues of attack. Arik could do it. He could stop the kami dead in her tracks.
But then he heard the injured woman make a whimpering sound. He had to help her.
His sword back in its scabbard, Arik reached out for the woman’s face, cupping her cheeks. She was crying, her tears mixing with the blood, the woman all but delirious as her eyes settled on Arik.
“I can heal you,” he assured her. “Relax.”
And with those words, he went to work, the disciple momentarily oblivious to his surroundings, to the chaos caused by the wind and the water whipping all around, the percussive sounds, the scatter of feet in the clouds of dust from fleeing locals. Pandemonium. Jadean officials would soon arrive, and they would likely bring the attention of the guards on the southern border as well.
But before he could do anything else, he had to make sure the woman was healed. This was who he was. This was Arik, the core of his personality. Not only that, it was what he had been raised to do. He focused even harder on the woman. The hunk of metal that had been stuck in the side of her skull was very deep yet it soon began to push itself out. The wound stitched up, the look on the woman’s face changing from one of pain to utter surprise. “You’re a priest?” she whispered.
“No,” Arik told her. He glanced at the man that had been hovering near them. “Go,” he said. “Take her with you.”
Arik turned away from the pair and drew the Whispering Sword yet again.
He advanced toward the battling kami. Once he reached a point where the wind was blowing in his face and the water was spraying all about, he called for Meosa. He did so again until the kami’s voice appeared in his head. “Meosa!”
“I’m kind of busy at the moment!”
“Return to me, and stay low,” Arik told the kami.
“Do what? Are you mad?”
“Push her back, and trust me!”
Waves swarmed around Arik and then disappeared, crashing onto the ground as they filtered away. At the moment he was certain that Meosa had listened to him, Arik sent the Whispering Sword to the first red spot that he saw, aware that he only had a split second to launch his attack. The Mask of the Fallen took over, Arik conducting his weapon as it whisked the air around him, hitting multiple kill spots.
The wind petered out. What followed was an incredible wail, one that seemed to ricochet through the narrow streets connecting to the main road.
It was the sound of a kami in pain.
As the wind slowly settled, Meosa took shape next to Arik. “I can’t believe you did that. Not even Coro Pache…” He shook his head as Enenra continued to wail in agony.
One final gust of wind signaled that Enenra had finally limped away. The air suddenly calmed.
Upon hearing Tayaura grunt, Arik snapped out of his momentary surprise. He turned to see her bent forward, pressing her hands into a wound on her stomach. Lady Nene was lying on the ground near her, dead, her butterfly haori cape soaked in blood.
“I can find her,” Meosa said. “We can finish Enenra off.”
“I think it’s best if we get across the border now,” Arik told him once he looked ahead and saw that guards were approaching. He crouched next to Tayaura and began to heal the wound, only realizing then that he had a pounding headache from healing the woman’s wound just a few minutes back. Arik even touched his head to make sure there wasn’t something sticking out of his skull…
“Across the border,” Tayaura said, sucking in breaths, “and we will find Istvan. Or he will find us. But we have to go. And, disciple?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for healing me.”
****
The guards that appeared immediately drew pike weapons. Before they could engage Arik and Tayaura, they were tossed aside by Meosa.
“Kami, take us to the rooftops!” Tayaura shouted as she veered toward one of the buildings.
As these words left Tayaura’s mouth, Arik felt a shift into the air that indicated the water spirit had taken over. He deposited them on the nearest rooftop, the illusionist soon in the lead. Arik did his best to keep up with Tayaura as she sprinted forward. She was fast and determined, daring as well as she leapt to the next rooftop and landed.
People took notice of the pair charging across rooftops. Rather than focus on them, Arik kept his eyes on his next step. They had to get across the border; they had to rendezvous with Istvan.
Fwwit!
An arrow fired from somewhere. Meosa batted it out of the air. More arrows came; Meosa used tendrils of water to protect Arik and Tayaura as they continued their escape, the water spirit like a giant floating octopus.
“We’re close!” Tayaura called back to him.
The style of the buildings began to change as they approached the border. It was by no means subtle, especially with the Crimsonian flags that rose on the horizon and the way their roofs were shaped.
The border itself was demarcated by a thick stone wall, one that Meosa helped Arik and Tayaura scale in a matter of seconds. They reached the other side and were immediately attacked by a pair of Crimsonians, ones who clearly had an understanding of Thunderaura. Arik blocked the first charged strike, yet he felt it all the way to his core. He pressed back, prepared for another attack as he simply let his sword and his mask sync.
The snake-like nature of the Whispering Sword took the Crimsonian by surprise. Arik cut him down before he could parry any of his attacks. He turned his focus on Tayaura, who was battling another soldier. Meosa swept the soldier away and slammed him into the wall. Another swung at Arik; the disciple blocked his attack and cut him down.
Tayaura made eye contact with Arik. “Where did you say Istvan would be?”
“Warrior pilgrimages. Um…” Arik took a quick glance toward the road ahead, and motioned to the west. “That way. Last time I saw him, he was that way.”
“Let’s do it then.”
The two raced across an open street to the next row of sandstone buildings. The square-hatted guards and other citizens of the South were already on the move, the citizens fleeing, the guards pursuing Arik and Tayaura. Every time they got close, Meosa managed to sweep some of them back.
“We have attracted way too much attention to ourselves,” Tayaura said once they reached another rooftop and looked down to the streets, where more guards chased after them, a few shouting and pointing with their weapons.
“What should we do?”
Fwitt! Fwitt!
More arrows sailed in the air, barely missing them.
“We should find Istvan. And then get to the desert. Looks like the warrior pilgrimages are over there.” Tayaura gestured toward a series of courtyards, ones noticeable in the bleachers that wrapped around them. “If he’s in the area, he’s definitely heard some commotion by now. If not—”
A Crimsonian exploded out onto one of the rooftops and swung both of his blades at them. Arik drew his weapon first; the Whispering Sword swiftly drew lacerations across the man’s legs and back. The man cried out in agony and dropped to his knees, the blade soon washed off the roof by a surge of water.
“I would look for Istvan if two of you didn’t need protection,” Meosa said.
“Look for him, kami,” said Tayaura. “We can handle ourselves.”
“On a rooftop? Without any protection? As enemies start coming from all sides and firing arrows at you?” As if on cue, Meosa batted away more arrows. “Bah! You are too confident, shinobi-ess.”
“Wait, I see something.” Arik pointed to a man charging to the back line of the Crimsonian guards below. A plume of fire pushed some of them forward, their robes igniting, the wicker of their square hats going with it. “That’s him; that’s Istvan!”
“Kami, take us down there!”
Meosa’s form grew in size. “As you wish.”
Arik and Tayaura were swept up into a surge of water, which carried them down to the ground. The two landed beside Istvan.
A grin cracked across Istvan’s face, the northern fighter with his flaming hammer at the ready. “Look who decided to show up.”
“I’ll explain everything once we are out of the city,” Arik said instead of a greeting. “Let’s go.”
“And I’m supposed to carry all of you now?” Meosa asked as the three took off toward the south.
“If you are strong enough,” the illusionist told him.
“If I’m strong enough?”
As a show of force, Meosa lifted the three onto another rooftop. Unfortunately, it was an older building, one that was being refurbished. As the roof caved in, they jumped to the next building, Istvan laughing wildly.
“Is this what you did to get both sides of the city chasing after you?” he asked Arik. “Bringing down houses?”
“We were attacked by another kami, plus one of Nobunaga’s recruits. I suppose she is now working for Master Guri Yarna. Or, she was. The woman is dead; the kami got away. I don’t know where—”
“Less talk, disciple,” Tayaura said. “Focus on escaping.”
They reached the next rooftop.
They jumped and were deposited softly onto a cobblestone road. The group continued on, kicking up dust, causing more of a commotion in the streets surrounding them as they bolted toward the desert. Arik’s mask continued to connect to potential opponents, yet he ignored it. He knew what would happen once they reached the outskirts of the city. If they simply charged into the desert, people would think they were crazy. A few Crimsonians would possibly pursue them, but likely not. It was suicide to go into the deserts of the South in late summer like they were about to do, but that was the only way to get to Mogra, to the Demon Charm.
There was another problem with what they had just done, one that would likely come back to haunt them. The Crimsonians clearly knew that Arik was now in their country. Word would spread, and Master Guri Yarna would soon hear of it.
Not only would Arik become a wanted man, he would become a wanted man in a country that was known for its brutality.
Yet this was the only way.
There was no turning back now.
.Chapter Four.
“An age without war leaves rust on a blade.”
–Combat Master Rai Dalanzad from his battle treaty The Three Rings, Third Edition, Yoshimura Books, Year 1429, Page 42.
They weren’t in the desert for very long before Arik started to feel the effects of the sun. He felt as if he were closer to the sky out here, the heat radiating all around them to the point that Meosa wasn’t able to cool them off.
“Let’s find shade and travel at night. Even with your help,” Tayaura told the kami, “it is too hot to journey like this during the daytime. It’s still summer down here, even if it is ending up north.”
Istvan wiped sweat from his brow. “People on the border were talking about heat swells. The Crimson Realm also has been through a drought as well. Perfect time to hit the desert, if you ask me. Perfect time.”
“Shade would help all of us, and it would make it so I don’t have to expend all my powers trying to cool you off. Let me check around.” Arik felt the sensation of Meosa rising into the air. Squinting toward the sky, he caught a subtle rainbow created by the kami’s watery form.
Tayaura pointed toward the southwest. “There has to be something suitable, especially with those hills over there.”
From what Arik could tell, their group was about a mile or so off the main road that caravans took. Everything around them was barren aside from clusters of cacti covered in pink flowers. These seemed to be abundant in the area, a betrayal to the senses considering their beauty versus the desolate landscape.
