Drifting - Erickar Avery

[lum]

The haze of morning hadn’t quite lifted yet. Somewhere at some forgotten quay at the end of an alley seagulls screamed overhead as if in protest with the late arrival of the sun’s warmth. It was a place where planks creaked, and where no one of sound mind would set foot on.

However, beneath the open beams of Toghan’s secret shed, I was already slick with sweat.

Left step. Turn. Palm out. Elbow low. Breathe.

Then pivot.

No… damn.

I stopped mid-motion, breath heaving, fists clenched at my sides. My feet had tangled again, the sweep of my stance more of a drunken stagger than the coiled grace Toghan and Akari always made look effortless.

“You try too much at same time,” Toghan said behind me, calm as a god dam’ still mountain lake.

I didn’t look at him. “Aye, and ye’re nay trying to teach at all.”

“True,” he said, and I could hear that frigging smile in his voice. “Because I already learned you how.”

“I be struggling here. Are ya even watching?”

“Always watching.”

I sighed and reset my feet, determined not to embarrass myself again.

“Start from dragon’s coil,” he said. “Don’t skip ahead.”

I tried. Again. And again. And again and again. But my turns were rushed, my weight off. The more I pushed, the worse it got.

Then came the sound of wood dragged across wood. I turned.

Toghan was hauling two ladders out from behind the workbench. One looked half-rotted, missing two rungs, and spaced so far apart that it might as well have been a climbing frame for giants. The other seemed newer, its rungs close-set and sturdy.

“Pause for moment now.” he said. Then he pointing upward. “Roof beam came loose. Needs fixing.” He motioned at the ladders.

I didn’t hesitate and already walked toward the newer one.

He nodded. Said nothing else.

I propped it up and climbed. Easy footing. Quicker work than climbing to a crow’s nest. This would be soon over. Fixed the beam with a few taps of the mallet and climbed back down, heart still a little sore from my earlier failure.

“Done and done.” I grinned.

But Toghan stood quiet by the ladders, arms folded.

“Why picked that ladder?” he asked, gesturing at the ladder I’d chosen.

I blinked. “Because the other one’s cracked. Too wide. This was better. Safer.”

He nodded. “Yes. Also. Easier to climb.”

Then he pointed back at the training yard. “So why you insist on the other kind when it comes to this?”

I frowned.

“You keep reaching for rungs that aren’t there yet,” he said, voice even. “Trying to leap from ground to roof in one breath. That not climbing. That failing. And falling eventually.”

I looked down at the ladder, then back toward the space where I’d been training.

Toghan wasn’t done. “You want look tough? Daijoubu. But looks isn’t being. You get there, step by step. Not by skipping rungs, but by trusting each one.”

He walked past me then, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Now. Back to dragon’s coil. And this time, breathe like meaning it.”

He had said something that made complete sense to me, but for a brief moment he got no other response from me but a bewildered stare.


Then, I returned to my spot.

The boards underfoot were still damp with my sweat. My pride still felt like it’d been chewed up and spat back out by a mule on fire. But Toghan’s words echoed somewhere deeper now.

Not by skipping rungs. But by trusting each one.

I stood still a moment longer, let the morning seep in around me. The light was shifting, drawing shorter shadows across the planks of the shed floor.

And then there it was. A moment of inspiration, something Toghan had said a few times. Flow like water.

Below me there was the sound of water.

Not loud. Not urgent. Just... there. Beneath everything. Beneath me. The tide slapping gently against stone of Baldur’s harbor. A deeper gurgle where it ran beneath the quay. A splash, then silence. Then the hiss of another wave rolling through gaps in the pier, threading the supports. And then it all seemed to repeat itself. Natural.

I listened, and I moved.

Left step. Turn. Palm out. Elbow low. Breathe.

This time I didn’t rush the pivot. I let it curl into me like a wave circling back to shore. Let my weight settle with it, let my arms flow outward not to strike, but to continue what the sea had started.

It wasn’t perfect. My form still had edges. But something inside had softened.

I moved again. And again. Let the rhythm build not from my muscles, but from the rhythm of water itself. My feet landed without force. My breath timed with the surge and pull of tide. My hands no longer fought the air.

And I forgot about looking tough.

I just… furō.

[lum]

“Dead.” Akari said flatly.

A grunt. My stance shifted in an attempt to correct my next approach.

“Dead again.” A light tap followed his words, a forked prong to my ribs, where my arm had overreached.

I suppressed a curse and tried again.

This time, my bastard sword caught -very- hard on metal. Again. But it also got entangled with Akari’s exotic weapon in the shape of a… large fork. I had no idea what that weapon was, but it’s proven very effective against my blade.

I yanked it loose, teeth clenched, but it was too late. Akari had already danced aside and tagged my shoulder with the other fork, quick as a pickpocket in a crowd.

“Dead thrice.” Was the verdict.

We reset.

The small yard behind the shed held the scent of something in between sun-warmed salty water and last night’s fish. Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging worse than the bruises I was collecting.

Akari… barely looked winded.

I balanced my bastard sword, the weapon I always used. Heavy. Familiar. The grip worn smooth by my own calluses. I could cleave a man clean in two with it.

But that meant nothing right now.

Because every time I struck, Akari caught the blade in the narrow fork of this sai thing and twisted. Not a full trap, but enough. Just enough to slow me down every single time.

And that second, -less than just a heartbeat- was all he required.

“You lean too far forward again,” he said, circling. “Every time you strike, you throw your whole weight like it’s the final blow.”

I grumbled, “It should be the final blow.”

“But it’s not. I’m not saying it didn’t work in your previous world but… here…”

He moved fast. Light on his feet. The sai daggers weren’t weapons meant to kill in one stroke, but in the right hands… boy. They were precise, relentless. And right now, very much in the right hands.

He closed in again.

Clang. My sword halted in mid-swing. Caught. Again.

Twist. Pull. Damn. I freed it too slow.

Thud. A soft jab to my thigh. “Dead again,” he said.

I swore under my breath.

“You’re fighting like the ground owes you something,” Akari said, stepping back with that same unreadable smirk. “All weight, all force.”

I scowled, ready to spit back, but Toghan stepped in between, motioning to the water.

“See that?”

I turned to look and nodded. “That be a shark fin. They often about here with all the fish scraps being dumped.”

“Look at it,” Toghan insisted.

So I looked for a bit longer as I listened to Toghan.

“Fins for stability, steering. But also, if shark stops swimming… it dies.”

He looked at me then, studying me in that way he always did, as if weighing my soul.

“Never stop swimming. Perhaps also… that no longer right fin for you.” He nodded toward my bastard sword.

“What-...? Ya can’t just… ya can’t do that!”

[lum]

“So how did ya separate?”

“Hm what?” I looked up. Akari’s question came out of the blue.

“You, and your companion.”

“Oh…”

I turned my hands over and stared at the smooth clay dripping from my fingers. My foot had stopped working the wheel since my bowl was already a failure.

“I…” I shook my head. “It all be a blur.”

He offered a faint nod. “Understandable.” He said it in a way as if he not only understood. Almost like someone who knew.

I decided to ignore my interpretation and asked,” So, yer pops was young when he left his country and eventually arrived here. But…”

Akari smiled faintly. “Where was I?”

“Yeah… couldn’t figure out that part yet.”

Akari finished shaping his own creation. A honey pot. Perfect. Symmetric as hell.

“Believe it or not, but I have arrived here directly from Kozakura. Even though I wasn’t born there.”

“Ya went to that coastal province where Toghan hails from?”

He nodded. “I know that sounds crazy. It was dangerous indeed, but no one knew who I was. I arrived there as a hired polyglot. For a while I lived among the people who were also my blood. That was somehow important to me.”

I got that. “So what made ya leave?”

“A woman. Impossible paths. A higher cause. Pick one.”

He motioned for me to watch his hands as he restarted with a fresh lump of clay.

“Likely all three reasons work,” Akari continued, “the first reason perhaps the most gripping, and the reason that heralded the other reasons.”

I don’t know why, but suddenly my brain started connecting certain dots.

“The guys that came after ya at the time we first met?”

Akari seemed surprised, but only for a moment.

“I should learn to deal with your awareness, Erickar, but yes. It had something to do with my stay in Kozakura.”

“Must have pissed off someone badly. And why ya learned all these moves.”

Akari scratched his cheek. “It’s better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in a war.”

“Sounds like Toghan. But aye. And ye sure as hell know how to batten down yer hatches.”

“Huh? Erickar, sometimes… this slang of yours.”

“Just as hard to keep up with as me trying to follow yer training moves?”

Akari smirked, but then his smile faded.

Someone approached us.

I turned my head sharply to the right.

A deep voice rumbled. “What are you doing here, citizen?”

A city guard. Alone. Drunk by the looks of it. Fist thick as a butcher’s block.

“Eh, we’re making pots?”

“We? Who is we?” the guard grunted.

I glanced to my left and saw Akari lift his shoulders in a subtle shrug.

“Well, me pall and me.”

“I see.” He rubbed his beard, then motioned toward me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “So you think it’s funny to mock a commissioned arm of the law?”

“Huh… wha…?” I blinked. Not quite following.

“Or are you one of those retards with an imaginary friend?”

Somehow I was starting to doubt whether this guy was a guard at all.

I decided to take a different tack.

“Is what we… I’m doing here illegal?”

Fire lit in his eyes.
Well, someone’s got a temper. Probably the booze. I already knew how this would go.

Save I didn’t.

Suddenly someone tapped the guard on the shoulder.
He turned… and immediately went down.

There hadn’t even been a blow. No warning. Just a thud as he hit the cobblestones.

I looked up.

Akari.

How did he get there so fast?

“Remind me never to be on yer bad side,” I muttered.

Akari only tilted his head. “You already are.” Then that thrifty smile. “But you’re entertaining.”

Toghan’s son knelt, checked the guard’s pulse, then gave me a look. “He’ll wake up thinking he tripped. Let's be gone before he starts remembering.”

“Some plant extract?” I guessed.

He nodded at me. "It won’t harm him.”

As I gathered our stuff I glanced sideways at Akari.

“So, how’d ya do that?”

“Do what?”

“Well, like, disappear to him but not to me.”

“Oh. That. Well, first off… we rarely are visible to anyone.”

“But, I see you.”

“Yes, Erickar. That you do.”

Now my penny dropped. Back at the time at the market.

Had Toghan been invisible almost all the time?

It sure would explain why people thought I was running that stall.


But wait...

I froze a moment in my tracks.

How many people in this city now thought I was a moron talking with imaginary friends?

[lum]

The knock at the door wasn’t loud. More like discreet. Measured. Deliberate. The kind of knock someone makes when they already think they know what’s behind it. Or what they expecting.

I stood still. Just for a second.

Another knock, then silence.

This wasn’t my house. And given its location, it never saw visitors. Not ever.

Through the paper-slit window I caught the silhouettes. They wore dark robes, too clean to belong to woodsmen. I noticed hats, conical, tighter and lower than any straw sunshade I’d ever seen. Not locals. Not farmers. Let alone merchants.

I opened the door like I owned the place.

Three of them. Quiet. One blinked. I was -not- what he was expecting.

The tallest stepped forward.

“Who lives here?”

I scratched my head casually, yawned like I had been sleeping for hours.

“Me,” I lied.

That made them pause. Not much, but enough.

“You are… not Kozakuran.”

“Heh. Nay said I was.”

Silence. Tension thickened like tree sap. Then they moved. They didn’t make any a sound, just steel and motion.

Too fast for most. But not for me. My body remembered things my mind hadn’t caught up with yet.

A parry here. A turn there. Elbows, knees. The form wasn’t mine, but it flowed through me like a second nature. I caught one of them blinking. Something close to surprise.

One’s short, curved blade suddenly clattered to the floor.

“Whispering Net,” he sounded almost concerned.

He recognized it. Whatever form I was using, it was within his knowledge.

The others stopped. All three stepped back, circling me now. Not attacking, but watching. With something like respect.

“You were trained,” he added, almost reluctant. “But this is not theirs.”

I didn’t answer. Truth was, I didn’t know what he meant by that. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking.

Their stance shifted. Not aggression. Deference. Recognition. Perhaps adapting?

I kept my breathing steady. My body still hummed from the sudden burst of motion. I could feel something rising behind my ribs. Not fear. Not adrenaline. Something older.

The tall one glanced at the other two. They exchanged no words, only single brief nod at each other.

“If you truly live here, then they are close. And if you know the Net…” his voice trailed off.

“…Then I might not be yer enemy?” I offered.

He didn’t confirm it. He didn’t deny it either.

Instead, he reached into his robe slowly, and then held out a small scroll, sealed in black wax. No markings. No sigil. Just the weight of silence around it.

“Deliver this,” he said. “Then come to meet the woman with white eyes at the Shrine of Falling Leaves.”

He stepped back, gaze fixed on me like he’d handed me a serpent and was waiting to see if it would bite.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then she’ll come looking for you, and the others.” He squinted up at the roof.

A moment later they vanished into the trees, just like that. No trail. No stirring. No sound.

I looked down at the scroll.

My hand was trembling.

I took a seat near the gate.



It was almost dusk when I heard the hooves. Familiar ones. Toghan never let his mule rush. I stepped outside before they reached the clearing.

Toghan dismounted stiffly, knees cracking like twigs. His son, Akari, slid down after, grinning like a kid who’d stolen apples.

“You were supposed stay inside,” Toghan said, voice low but not angry. More… tired. Ever since we explained about the thing with the guard he wanted me to be cautious.

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” I replied, and held up the scroll.

Toghan frowned.

Akari tilted his head. “What’s that?”

“Had visitors. Three of them. Dressed like… dunno. Robes, big hats, too odd for this forest.”

Toghan stiffened.

“They recognized something as we got uh… ‘acquainted’...” I continued. “The Whispering net?”

That made Toghan look up sharply. Real sharply.

“Whispering Net,” he repeated, like tasting ash.

“They handed me this,” I offered him the scroll. “Told me to deliver it. Said to meet a lass with white eyes at the Shrine of Falling Leaves.”

He took it gingerly. Akari peered over his shoulder as Toghan turned it in his hands. He didn’t open it. The man just stared at the black wax seal.

“I probably can’t read it,” I said.

“I can,” Toghan replied, voice quiet now. “But was hoping never see one of these again.”

Akari blinked. “Wait. What is it?”

Toghan didn’t answer him. Not right away.

“You need to come inside,” he said. “We all do. Now.”

Inside, Toghan lit the lantern, then finally said, “It was never meant they find you.”

I didn’t like how final that sounded.

[lum]

The path to the shrine was barely more than a deer trail. Winding more than once, root-laced, and older than the rocks that framed it. Fog gathered and clung low, the trees rocked in the breeze with a certain ghostlike slowness.

The shrine itself was nestled on a hilltop, ringed by more rock and vegetation. A single guttering foreign lantern hung down from a branch.

Toghan dismounted silently. Akari followed, eyes darting, hands never straying far from his belt.

They had left me behind. Or tried to. I followed them halfway through the trees before Toghan made me stop.

“This isn’t your meeting,” Toghan had said.

“And that scroll wasn’t mine either,” I had muttered, but I promised to stay back.


Now, as they approached the shrine, I saw three figures waiting just beyond the lantern’s reach. Still as statues. The tallest among them stepped forward, parted the darkness with his movement.

But it wasn’t him that spoke.

“Not the one I expected to see again,” said a woman’s voice.

She stepped into the light like fog becoming solid. Small. Sharp. Her hair coiled in loops and sticks. Her eyes… white indeed, however not from blindness, but from something deeper, like someone who saw too much or too far. Kozakuran, unmistakably.

Toghan bowed, a little stiffly.

“My son,” he said, indicating Akari.

She looked at the young man, long enough that he shifted awkwardly under her gaze.

“You brought your blood,” she said. “Was that wise?”

“It’s all I’ve got left,” Toghan replied.

The three men behind her remained silent. Unthreatening as they were, their presence weighed heavy in my humble opinion. But I sat back. It were the same three who visited the house.

Akari noticed one of them idly tapping a finger against the pommel of his blade.

“Wasn’t supposed to be seen again,” she said, almost musing.

“And yet,” Toghan said, “we are here.” His left hand moved into his sleeve.

A pause.

She raised a finger and one of the men stepped forward, accepting the scroll from Toghan’s hand. The wax was broken, the seal already cut.

“We read it, you read it too now,” she said. “And so did others.”

Toghan’s jaw tightened.

“I take you know what’s written?”

“I take it you understand its consequence,” she replied.

Before he could answer, Akari tensed beside him.

I looked over to the other side.

There. Motion. But not from her people.

Shapes moved beyond the edge of the place. Silent, sudden, unnatural. Dressed head to toe in black, they slipped through the underbrush like shadows with edges. Not the ceremonially-robed ones from like the woman’s companions. These figures moved with lethal economy… tighter, leaner, unmarked. I’d seen sketches before. To me they’d been warnings, in both ink and in rumor. Real ninja, not local butchers. Nothing visible but their eyes.

The woman stopped speaking. The lantern flickered.

For a heartbeat, the shrine held nothing but breath.

I counted at least nine of them. And they moved closer to the group near the shrine now. It was odd. For a moment, noticing them slow down I thought they meant to parley. That illusion passed quickly.

The fight that started was like no fight I ever seen in my life before. It was so controlled and measured, it might as well have taken place in the middle of the Wide without bystanders or guards noticing attempts to spill blood were being made. They circled like duelists in some high court’s theater, blades drawn, but manners not yet discarded. With spooky silence they lashed out at each other, lightning fast strikes to seek an opening, lowering their blades and holding them nearly out of sight after every attempt. They slowed down,walked, strolling nearly, and then reengaged.

I knew better though. This wasn’t some form nor a ritual. It was pure calculation. And some vanity I’d say. And I also assumed they didn’t wish to draw any attention from the nearby road towards the Friendly Arm Inn.

The woman didn’t retreat. She pivoted slightly, one foot sliding across the dirt, and her three escorts kept her between them and the newcomers. One of the ninja lunged. Not reckless. Not loud. Only steel sang. A blur. His blade caught a sleeve, nothing more, but the counterstrike was immediate. One of the escorts turned it aside with the back of his hand, fluid as water off stone.

Thus far no one had been injured yet. And that said a lot about the level of this confrontation.

The ‘fight’ continued. No shouts. No curses. No assaults below the belt. Just the wind, the flicker of the lantern and shadows flashing. And almost like a fair play.

What I didn’t like though was how many of the black-clad figures there were. Or rather, how many remained unengaged. A couple of them even moved to sit and watched the others fight.

For what? To take turns?

Or did they wait for something? Or someone?

Hm, time to disrupt some of any plans they may have.


The spell of silence shattered when I decided to sneak up the hill and one of the seated ninja turned over and addressed me.

“We have outsider visiting?”

All of the unengaged ninja moved to stand now and turned to me.

Another ninja snorted. “Or did this try to sneak up on us? What a rookie. Even his shadow has weight.”

Below the belt after all, heh? I rubbed my ear casually. “Oh? An’ who ye think ye be? Standup comedian? Why don’t ya quickly take a seat again, boy.”

The first ninja shook his head almost like he regretted he was about to teach me a lesson. “I recommend you to calibrate your expectations on the outcome here, mister.”

Almost politely.

I kept one hand near my coat’s inner pocket. Not that it’d help.

“Wasn’t sneaking,” I said. “Just couldn’t sleep knowing poetry like this was happening uphill.”

None of them laughed. I doubted any of them ever did.

The ninja who’d first spoken stepped closer, his movement smooth as falling silk.

“You watched a matter among ghosts. That should be enough for one lifetime.”

Another shifted behind him, slow and wide, cutting off my retreat.

“Ya gonna quote proverbs at me all night?” I asked. “Or do ya lot take turns being ominous?”

The first one paused. Then, to my surprise, his eyes smiled. Just a tiny bit.

The one who had moved to cut off my retreat spun his cloak off in a single motion, blade already catching moonlight.

“That depends,” the first one said, lifting a hand. “On whether you plan to walk away... or be carried.”

More of the ninja descended from the hill, like falling leaves. Wrong-colored leaves. Violent. Swift.

They'd never meant to let me go.

And now, just like uphill, the dance was about to begin. I only hoped I could answer them with even half their precision.


I sensed how the air around me shifted.
I noticed how grass bent.
I heard how steel whispered.


They came…

[lum]

The first blow didn’t come from ahead.
It came from behind.

Announced only by a soft whistle of parting air.

I dropped. Pure instinct.
Steel hissed through the space where, a heartbeat earlier, my neck had been.

I had steel of my own.
Didn’t have time to draw it. Would’ve been in the way anyway.

What I was now… was like a coat.
One full of distractions.

Something I had learned. But also I never unlearned my own stuff.
Much to the annoyance of Toghan and Akari.

So I threw dirt.
Literally. Dirt from my pocket.
(Don’t ask when I learned that.)

The guy flinched. Long enough for me to knee him.
Crack. Something definitely broke, or was at least severely injured.

No time to celebrate.

I rolled sideways just as a tall, curved blade came down.
My coat tore. But it also fooled him.
He thought he’d hit body. He hadn’t.

He hesitated. Just half a count. But that’s all I needed.

I twisted, came up under his arm, and slammed an elbow into his gut.
Not elegant. More worthy of a pirate.

Someone else was already coming. Fast. Low to the ground like a snake.

Finally, I drew steel. Twin-steel.
Two short blades from my belt.

The draw may have looked sloppy.
But man, the angles? Sharp as glass.

I knew it wasn’t a proper form. But it was mine.
And it was something these foreigners never expected.
They likely assumed I’d dance by their rules.

Save I didn’t. I didn’t follow their pattern of elegant exchanges.

I stepped into the next attacker before he even could finish his slide.
Let his weight carry him too far, then brought both blades down in a crossing cut.

It wasn’t deep. Not enough to kill. But enough to ruin his rhythm.
Throw him off balance. Cripple him.

That’s all I ever needed.

Someone hissed behind me — not in pain. In disapproval.
Too loud. Too crude.
I wasn’t playing the part.

Good.

Let them be offended.


However. I expected the next move to come fast.
And I expected to bleed eventually. Likely as first.

But it didn’t. Suddenly no one moved anymore.
Well, expect for me.

I turned and stared in disbelief at the one now in front of me.
He could have easily cut off my ear.
I glanced at the attacker to my right. One I may have overlooked.

Further up the hill, the one near the shrine, her guardians.
Toghan, Akari.

They all… stilled. Like they were under a spell.

All I could hear was the drumbeat of my heart in my ears.
My grip tightened on both blades.

What the hell was this?

But they weren’t frozen. They weren’t shocked.
They were… measuring.

Eyes scanned across bodies. No fear, not hatred.
Just… focus. Pure and terrible.
Like wolves circling a kill.
Like scholars reading each other’s stances.

I turned slowly further around, uncertain if I should break the moment or respect it.

Was this part of the fight?
Some Kozakuran thing? Some signal?

No one spoke.

Somehow this silence was louder than the blades ever were.


Eventually the woman did.

“I guess we have a deadlock.” She spoke in her language, one I had picked up with some trouble.

One of the black ninja’s replied mockingly. “So now you have a sword and an opinion? How lucky we are.”

He was the enemy, but I liked his style. That could have been something I would have said.

I myself turned to the nearest ninja, the one in front of me. “You did well.”

The guy arched a brow.

I lifted a shoulder. “Don’t get used to compliments.”

F… all the ninja’s turned over to me.

The leader of their pack pointed my way and addressed the white-eyed woman.

“And what is this?”

He turned his attention to me. Irritated.

“Where did you learn all this? That’s not yours.”

I grinned, albeit a tiny bit insecure as I reacted. “What? Too many variables for ya?”

Akari chuckled softly behind the ninja leader’s back.

[lum]

But the lad turned fully to face me. Turning his back on the ones he’d just attacked.
And they didn’t stab him while they could??
How crazy was all this?

Was I part of a cast rehearsal?

The ninja’s leader gazed at me, cold and sharp. Like someone trying to decide if a new discovery should be studied… or buried.

“You should not move like that. Not unless someone gave you the right to.” He glanced at the white eyed woman and back at me.

His eyes skimmed across my stance, the weapons in my hands. Heck, maybe even across my soul.

I shrugged and in broken Kozakuran I responded. “Didn’t know permission was needed to survive.”

The white-eyed woman’s gaze lingered on me too now. Her voice cut through the air. Measured.

“The Net is not meant to drift. It has knots. And it has rules.”

I rolled my eyes. Great. More riddles. Still, I followed the metaphor. Especially since I did knew a thing or two about nets.

“Nets tangle, nets tear. You fix them, yet split-offs… they happen.”

Another silence followed. This one thicker.

Then, finally, the ninja leader turned back to his people.

“We leave. For now. But the matter… two matters now, demand settlement.”

No signal. No further word.

The ninja’s dispersed like they’d never been there. Smoke in the trees.

Akari exhaled loudly.
Toghan hadn’t moved at all.
The woman just watched them vanish.

Then she looked back at me, addressing me in my own language.

“One day world will celebrate your identity, your beliefs, your plans and your capabilities. Perfect occasion be during Festival of Fools.”

I rolled my eyes. Great. Another Toghan.

“Look, lass…”

She cut me off, raising a single finger.

“...Or, you are key.”

I didn’t know which would be worse.

The woman looked at Toghan, back in Kozakuran speech.

“We have to talk. Not about the information, but on what we are going to do.”

Toghan nodded once.

“Yeah, I’m kinda curious what this matter thing be about.”

The woman looked at Toghan, as if wondering whether I should join or not.

I watched Toghan and back at her.

The same finger she’d used to silence me now beckoned.

“Not talk here. Too many ears between leaves.”

We left the shrine behind. Didn’t take the trail. Didn’t ride.
Just moved through the forest in silence, following her through roots, shadow, low fog and whatnot.

Eventually we reached a place so plain it could’ve been passed ten times and missed every time.
A hollow beneath an old rock shelf, half-covered in vines. A fire pit, long-cold, hinted this wasn’t the first meeting here. The surrounding area was free of vegetation. It meant no cover, no trees too close. No hiding spots.

I sat too the moment the others were seated on the stone.

The woman didn’t speak for a moment. Just stared into the middle distance, as if sorting ghosts into categories. Then finally…

“They moved. And they moved faster than expected.”

I had no idea who they were so I just listened for now.

“And we cannot stop them. At least not directly.”

“So what we do now?” Toghan wondered.

She looked toward me.

“It’s not what we do. It’s who does it.”

Her white eyes settled on me like the tip of a blade.

Toghan shifted first. Not unkindly. But not easily either.

“Him?” he asked, quiet. Not doubtful. Just… careful.

The woman gave no answer. Just waited.

One of her robed companions finally spoke. The one with the half-hidden scar beneath one eye.

“He’s unvetted. Unaligned. Untaught.”

“Maybe also uninterested,” I muttered under my breath.

They glanced my way.

No one laughed.

[lum]

Akari leaned forward a little. “He did hold his own back there. With his own style, yes, but that could be an advantage.”

“By instinct mostly. But also by intent?” The scarred one replied. “Instinct tends to break.”

“So do plans.” I daringly interrupted, speaking louder than everyone else had so far. “Speaking of plans. When the foc do I actually get a say in my own fate?”

Hah. I had their attention. Even if briefly.

The woman didn’t look at me at first. She looked to Toghan. Then to the others. One by one.

Finally, back to me.

“You decided to show yourself, so now you’re part of this whether you want to be or not.”

I was about to flame. Still, I leaned forward. Palms flat. Dead calm. My voice lowered. Somehow I learned it forced others to lean in, and they’d listen to whatever I had to say.

“Maybe tell me what I’m actually part of.”

The white-eyed woman tilted her head slightly. As if curious how long it would take before I asked that.

“There are two threads in this tapestry,” she began as she motioned. “Both part of the same story, yet different angle, different stitches. One is what you’ve seen. Black-clad ghosts, silent blades, ancient rivalries. And you indeed shouldn’t have been in that story.”

“Yet, here I am.”

“The second thread is… broken. There are instances who move against an important structure after an elder passed away.”

“Like… rebellion?” I wondered.

“Not rebellion. A replacement. One with different opinions, different rules.”

“How different?”

She sat a moment in thought before she continued. “So different that we are prepared to loosen the Net, offer them more space only to make them waste strength with a war inside shadows.”

I didn’t understand a word of it, but judging on Toghan’s expression he did.

“We’ll agree to their terms, but we resume underground?” The older man whispered.

The woman looked up with clear eyes, nodding. “Whatever it is you're seeking won't come in the form you're expecting.”

Akari joined in. “Fall down seven times… stand up eight.”

I sighed. Couldn’t they get any more cryptic?

I leaned back, looking between the lot of them like someone trying to find the single sober man in a drunken jury.

“So lemme get this straight,” I said in my own language this time, “Ye’re baiting a group of deadly shadow-hopping zealots into wasting resources. By pretending to cave. All while spinning yer own counter-plan beneath the floorboards.”

No one interrupted me.

“And ye’re dragging me into this why? Because I threw pocket dirt and nay died?”

The scarred one muttered something in Kozakuran. I didn’t catch all of it, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.

The white-eyed woman, though, didn’t blink. She folded her hands in her lap.

“You not belong to any thread.” She said. “And you unpredictable. Makes you dangerous.”

“Eh… thanks?”

“To everyone, including to us. But also them.”

I scratched my temple. Looked over at Toghan. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“So… where I go?”

She nodded. “Simple. To Miyama Province.”

“Wait… what…?”