Scott McGough - Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

Michiko looked past Kyodai and took in the whole of the kakuriyo. From her vantage point she could see the very edges of the spirit realm, the limits of it scope, the very shape of it. Though its depths were still immeasurable she felt she could reach out and take it in her hands like some rare and exotic treasure. Was this how her father felt? Did he also see the true shape of the spirit world and dream of holding it, protecting it, shaping it to his design?

Kyodai was truly her sister, she thought. Their lives shared so many parallels. Yet they were also strangers, unknown and perhaps unknowable to each other. Kyodai had taken a body of flesh and Michiko had seen the cosmos as an ephemeral spirit, but this was not true understanding. They were only visitors in each other’s worlds, observers of each other’s lives. Michiko could never grasp the perfect nightmare of gaining an identity only to spend twenty years discovering it was that of a helpless, motionless prisoner. Kyodai would never see how Konda’s indifference to Michiko was as cruel and painful as his devotion to the stone disk, and how his actions had forever altered the course of her own life. They were two sides of the same mirror, linked, identical, but forever distinct and separate.

Their respective fathers had brought them to this. O-Kagachi existed to embody and enforce the barrier between utsushiyo and kakuriyo. Konda dedicated his life to expanding his realm to include as much space and as many tribes as he could. Each wanted sole authority over the whole of both realms. The only difference was that O-Kagachi wanted to preserve existing boundaries as they were and Konda wanted them to change in his favor.

“We must stop them,” Michiko said.

Kyodai turned to face the princess. I agree. But how?

“O-Kagachi contains both realms and keeps them separate. My father the daimyo is the same with Eiganjo, ruling it and the surrounding nations alike. They both control the traffic to and from their domains as well as within their own borders. We have all been constrained by those borders, yet we know no alternative. Without the structure our fathers provide, both worlds would be different … more chaotic and dangerous, less formal and organized. Without clear lines and borders, spirit and flesh alike would be lost.”

Kyodai’s fierce eyes became haunted, hopeless. Then what can we do?

“We cannot simply escape the guardians who seek us. Nor can we simply destroy the boundaries they exist to enforce. Even if it were possible, the result would be cataclysmic upheaval.

“But we can rewrite those boundaries. Our fathers have defined our worlds for our entire lives, but we can redefine them. This is the way of mortal beings, for the aged to give way to the young. The old must stand aside for the new.”

Sharpness crept back into Kyodai’s expression. A sly, feral look flickered across her eyes. Then, my sister, you are saying …

“We can fight,” Michiko said. “My father stole and imprisoned you before you truly existed. Your father’s outrage gave rise to the Kami War, which took my mother’s life and my father’s love before I could know either. I will resist both daimyo and serpent to the death before I allow them to cause any more harm.”

Kyodai smiled, baring her sharp teeth. Well said. You know I feel the same. But how will you resist? How can we fight them?

“I am not wise or strong,” Michiko said evenly. “But I am determined. I can handle a bow and arrow. I can strike at my enemies accurately from a great distance. I may not have great power, but I have a strong will.”

Kyodai nodded savagely. I, in turn, do have power , she said. Untapped and untested. But with your guidance, with your will … The serpentine woman opened her arms. Come, my sister. Together we will end this. No matter if we live or die, the world will not go on as it has before .

Without hesitation, Michiko opened her arms and flowed into Kyodai. Here in the spirit realm, their bodies mingled like a river flowing into the sea, swirling currents of Michiko’s will mixing with the rising tide of Kyodai’s power. For a moment they were wholly combined yet still discrete, a fusion being with four eyes, two mouths, two fathers, two lives … but they shared the same spirit and sought the same goal.

Then the sisters flowed completely together, mingling mind, body, and spirit into one transcendent whole. Tossed on a crashing wave of memories and sensations that were not and could not have been her own, Michiko abandoned herself to the experience. The last full thought she had before her old mind was swept away was, “I was wrong. We can know what it means to be the other.”

For the first time in either of their lives, Michiko and Kyodai were at last complete.

Sharp-Ear was the first to reawaken after the sisters had departed, but Pearl-Ear was the first to her feet.

“Hello,” Toshi called cheerfully. He was still prodding the dirt with the tip of his jitte. He had inscribed a long, complicated series of the symbols that should have allowed him to escape, but the magic simply wasn’t working. He tried some of the most basic kanji he knew, but the power was dead to him, frozen and still like the birds and the falling leaves.

Toshi jerked a thumb up toward the sky where O-Kagachi had already touched the tallest trees. “We’ll all be dead soon.”

“Merciful spirits,” Pearl-Ear said. She dashed forward and grabbed Toshi by the shoulders. “Where is Michiko?”

“And the Taken One,” Sharp-Ear added. He was favoring his left leg, and his right arm hung limp by his side.

“Kyodai,” Toshi corrected. “She took a name because she doesn’t want to be known as an inanimate object anymore.” He dropped his jitte and twisted Pearl-Ear’s thumbs back, breaking her hold. “Mind your manners, sensei. I’m just as upset as you are.”

Sharp-Ear padded up behind Toshi. “Can I kill him now, sister?”

“You have my leave, brother.” Without waiting, Pearl-Ear moved over to Silk-Eyes and tried to help the waking elder sit upright.

Toshi threw himself to the side, narrowly missing Sharp-Ear’s blade as it whistled past his neck. The ochimusha rolled onto his feet and crouched so that he was at the little kitsune’s height, his jitte drawn and ready.

Sharp-Ear struck again, stabbing at Toshi’s midsection with the tip of his dagger. Toshi easily parried the blow. Sharp-Ear was slower than he had been-either his heart wasn’t in this dirty work or he had sustained more serious injuries than he was letting on.

Toshi watched and waited as Sharp-Ear prepared to thrust again. He was prepared to react to a healthy kitsune’s attack in case Sharp-Ear was shamming, but the little fox was no quicker. Toshi easily caught the dagger between the tines of his jitte as it came toward him. With a simple twist of the wrist, he snapped Sharp-Ear’s blade off less than an inch from the handle.

Toshi twirled his weapon. “That’s what it’s made to do, you know,” he said.

Sharp-Ear scowled at his ruined weapon. Without saying a word, he dropped the broken knife and drew a second that was just as sharp and still intact.

Toshi sighed, casually meeting Sharp-Ear’s eyes. “Go ahead,” he said. “There probably isn’t a kanji hidden on me that’ll reflect your own blade back at you. You’re probably safe to do whatever you like.” He morosely began prodding the dirt with his jitte. “Probably.”

Sharp-Ear sheathed his knife. “I know you’re lying,” he said.

“Then strike.”

“But I also know you’re crafty. I’m betting you can get away from here if you want to bad enough.” He glanced up for a moment. “I’ll wait until you try before I cut you. It’ll be funnier.”