The Sword of Kaigen

by M.L. Wang

tajaka

Fire

fonyaka

Air

jijaka,

Water

As jijakalu, we are the only race of theonite who can fight with a solid weapon that is truly an extension of the self.”

For centuries, the Matsuda family had passed down the secret to forming weapons of impervious ice. The technique was so difficult that no non-Matsuda had ever figured it out—and

“We here on the Sword of Kaigen are blessed to have some of the best and purest jijaka bloodlines in the world.

“Since the dawn of Kaigen, this peninsula has held its enemies back without fail. This is why we are called the Sword of Kaigen.

“In a single stroke, Matsuda Takeru’s jiya sliced through the Kotetsu-forged blade and Yukino’s body. The usurper was dead before he hit the ground, the first victim of the Whispering Blade.”

“They say that the best swordsman can win a fight in a single cut,”

“Do you think a Zilazen glass katana would be even stronger than your magical Whispering Blade?”

Of course, Mamoru had no way of knowing any of that. His mother, after all, did not talk about her past.

jijakalu,

Water

The cruelest thing she could do was serve her purpose—like he never could.

“None of it changes the fact that we are here to lay down our lives for the Empire. We are the Sword of Kaigen.”

As long as we are not broken, the Sword of Kaigen will not break, and the Empire will stand.

“This is the Sword of Kaigen. To make a run on it is to die.”

“This…” In spite of everything, Misaki found a smile on her lips. “This is Shadow’s Daughter.”

Misaki tied the obsidian sword at her hip and realized how much she had ached for its weight there. A baby just wasn’t the same.

She might not be worthy of belonging to this family, but she was going to protect it with every bit of venom and bloodlust and underhanded trickery in her.

Thank the Gods she was a monster.

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.”

His Empire was counting on him.

Unless the Sword of Kaigen served its purpose. So I will.

“You try fighting fair after pushing out four babies,”

He was untouchable. She was alone, drowning in screams.

“That boy—the man he is going to become—would lead you into danger and, inevitably, to tragedy. I haven’t pressed you about the violent business you’ve gotten yourself into at Daybreak Academy, but he is the source of it, isn’t he?”

“You are a woman. Your only job is to look after the children.” “And why is that again?” Misaki asked, her voice full of venom. “Oh yes. Because my husband, the greatest swordsman in Shirojima, is supposed to protect us all.”

I love her!!! She's a boss

“You lost your right to my obedience when you stopped being a man!” Misaki cut him off.

You go girl!!

For so many years, Takeru’s silence had infuriated her. Now, he was speaking freely, and she would have given anything to have him stop.

“You agree to be a man and make this up to me. You are going to do whatever you have to in order to protect this family and this village, with or without the support of the government.

Yes!!

“I’m Matsuda Misaki,” she said with pride and honesty she never attached to those words before. “I’m your wife.” And she attacked him.

Ice met glass.

Flayed and boneless, he faced the creature he had awakened, this woman of gods’ blood and fury.

So many years, he had avoided touching this porcelain doll he had been given for fear of breaking her.

Somehow, he had broken her anyway, but she hadn’t broken quietly like porcelain.

She had broken like black glass and ice—jagged and more d...

The irony was that Mamoru had been right—about the Empire, about the Kwangs, about the Ranganese—and Takeru had called him weak.

Now that his wife was asking him to stand, all he could do was shatter, and shatter, and shatter.

As the tiny woman matched his steps, Takeru was forced to realize that he had spent fifteen years sleeping obliviously next to a combatant very nearly his equal in skill.

He had never truly grown to know the woman who lived inside the doll, and it was hard to fight an enemy one didn’t know.

Yet here was this woman who held everything inside a little body of flesh and blood without breaking. It was as though all that pain had compressed in her slight figure like the molecules of a Whispering Blade or thousand-fold steel beaten to a blade in the forge.

She had taken every drop of hardship like a stroke of the hammer, turning it to strength, and she was stronger than Takeru. She was breaking him.

!!!!!

Mamoru hadn’t inherited his strength from his father. It had come from her.

Perhaps she was stronger than he was. Perhaps it was impossible for him to overcome this woman who seemed to carry the force of an army inside her.

Misaki was rushing toward him now, the final, most important part of his life bearing down on him. And he saw them both for what they were: a woman who needed her husband, and a man who needed his wife.

The Whispering Blade met Misaki’s obsidian sheath and sheared through it. Her eyes went wide, and she smiled—Gods in the Deep, she smiled—a raw, open smile, and it was the most beautiful thing in all the Duna.

It wasn’t just the challenge of responsibility he was accepting as his hand touched hers; he was accepting her

In the falling snow, Takeru stared at the woman he had married and saw her for the first time.

They had been married fifteen years. It was the first time they had ever held hands.