The Sword of Kaigen

by M.L. Wang

he might have taken a moment to pray. He might have considered that this man was the last of the true Yukino swordsmen, that his passing ended a line that stretched all the way back to Takayubi’s founding ancestors. He might have found some words of respect to ease his teacher’s way into the Laaxara. Instead, he just shook, like a child,

At his age, it was very possible that Hiroshi grasped only the one thing about his existence: that he was born to fight. His uncle, his father, and his older brother had all gone down the mountain to fulfill that purpose. But Hiroshi was too small. It had to be a horrible place to be—old enough to understand what was happening but too young to do anything about it.

You might look like a decorative flower, but you’re more sword than anything else.”

Thank the Gods she was a monster.

“Fire against water, light against darkness, day against night, but one who hopes to create must understand that opposites exist to balance and complement one another. This is why the tide-bringing moon follows the drying sun, why day follows night, why men marry women. I believe this is why the two greatest empires are Yamma, built on the power of fire, and our own Kaigen, built on the power of water. The two exist in this realm, not to destroy one another, but to create a balance between jiya and taya.”

He had never understood how something so vital to all life in the realm of the Duna could be a force of Hell. He understood now.

His own sword…

The monster crumbled, and she was just a woman, just a mother who had failed her son.

Gathering the boy into her arms, she held him tight, and loved him, loved him as hard as she could, and hoped it would be enough to wash everything else away. Hiroshi, as always, was cold.

MAMORU

decade later, a fifteen-year-old Hiroshi would become known as the youngest swordsman ever to master the Whispering Blade. What the world would never know, was that he was the second youngest.

a Whispering Blade caught the last rays of a dying sun. It gleamed once, pointed skyward, as its first and only victim hit the snow. Then, its work done, the sword fell to mist. The

There would be time to come undone after everyone was safe.

“Why? Why are they firing on us?” Because we don’t matter, Misaki thought numbly. The only thing the Empire cares about is stopping the Ranganese here. It doesn’t matter how many of us get caught in the crossfire.

“No one else is coming,” he said in a flat voice. Misaki felt the whole world gray. The maddened energy that had kept her moving stilled. “What?” “When I left the line, my brother and son were the only fighters left alive. There were still over a hundred Ranganese advancing on their position. No one else is coming.” All the strength went out of Misaki’s limbs. “No… no…” Hyori’s voice started as a low methodical moan that rose in pitch until it was a shriek. “No, that can’t be right! That can’t be right!” “You should be proud, Yukino-san.” Takeru looked down at the wrecked woman. “He died with his sword in his hand.” Hyori screamed.

was untouchable. She was alone, drowning in screams.

Still caught in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Robin leaning in until his lips met hers.

“A life of dangerous adventures might seem worth it now, when you are young and seemingly invincible, but one day, you will have children, and you will not want that life for them.”

she wasn’t woman enough to fight her own battles, then what right did she have to Robin’s help? How could she expect him to save her when she wasn’t willing to lift a finger to save herself?

You’ll understand when you have children. It would be worth it when she had children. Tou-sama had promised.

She had seen devastation before. She had been in Livingston at the height of Kalleyso’s reign of terror, but somehow, back then, it hadn’t seemed so bad. With no small amount of shame, she realized that, to her, those horrors belonged in violent adyn countries, far across the ocean. Not here. Not where she had rocked her babies to sleep and taught them their first words. Not where she had met Hyori. Not where she had laughed at Setsuko’s jokes and cooking. For so many years, Misaki had thought she would never belong in Takayubi, but somehow, while she hadn’t been paying attention, this place had become home. Someone had dropped bombs on her home.

“A lady shouldn’t have to see this.” “No,” Misaki said quietly. “No one should have to see this.”

Misaki tried to focus on that, on the tragedy of the lost fishing village and her sympathy for Setsuko. It was by no means a pleasant thought—in fact, it was quite painful, but that was the point; it was almost painful enough to take her mind off where her feet were carrying her. Almost.

“Could you please give me a moment with my son?”

“Let’s go pay our respects.” “I told you, there’s no body,” Misaki said. “Yes.” The smile faded from Setsuko’s face as she looked at Misaki. “But I have to say goodbye to my brave nephew, don’t I?”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” “Mmm.” Setsuko rubbed Misaki’s back. “But someone should.”