Scott McGough - Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

Strangely, Konda found he could still see. He was completely immobile, paralyzed and speechless, but he could see and hear perfectly well. Apart from a strange, fish bowl distortion across his field of vision, his view of the clearing had not changed.

Kyodai strolled toward him, her face filling his view. “Behold,” she said, “the enduring legacy of Daimyo Konda. His name and his face will never be forgotten, for they shall be preserved here for all time.”

The fierce woman’s face turned away. Konda heard her say, “Of course, they’ll have to be very, very patient to see all of him.” When she turned back around, Kyodai’s black, vertical pupils almost eclipsed her yellow eyes. Her lips were drawn back in a feral snarl, and she was hissing in pure hatred.

Kyodai lunged forward and drove her fist through Konda’s petrified face, shattering his head and the upper half of his chest. There was a momentary pause, and then she struck again, crushing the rest of his body to gravel and dust.

Konda did not die. Instead, the countless pieces of his eyes continued to relay visual images to his shattered brain. He saw not a single picture of the forest and the woman who destroyed him, but a million bits of color and texture, all overlapping and disjointed so that there was no way to clarify the image.

“I know you can hear me,” Kyodai said. She was correct, though now her unsettling triple voice was a nightmarish chorus of disorganized and painful noise. “Your daughter has asked me to return in twenty years to see if I feel the scales have been balanced. For her sake, I have agreed.”

The kaleidoscope images of Kyodai all leaned down over the debris that had been Konda. The mass of echoing voices whispered savagely, almost spitting the words. “They will never be balanced. I will return, Daimyo Konda. But I will never forgive you.”

Kyodai rose and turned away. Konda tried to scream, to release the rage and horror building up within him.

Instead, the pieces of the daimyo’s broken body remained as silent as stone.

Toshi bowed as Kyodai approached him. “If you have something similar in store for me,” he said, “I prefer to get it over with quickly.”

Kyodai returned his bow. “I have no plans to punish you, Toshi Umezawa. We are connected by blood, you, Michiko, and I. I know you better than anyone, and not only because your blood opened my way to freedom. I was with you in Minamo, and in the wilds of eastern Jukai. You are no better or worse than other men, but your actions were helpful to me. You saved me from the tower when no one else could. You kept me from the daimyo and O-Kagachi alike. For that, I am grateful.”

Michiko suddenly appeared alongside Kyodai in a sparkling sheet of purple light. “It has been done?”

Kyodai nodded. “It has.”

Toshi noticed Pearl-Ear and Sharp-Ear standing nearby. Since he had nothing else to say, he asked the question that was clearly on their minds. “What will you two do now?”

Michiko answered. “We have replaced O-Kagachi as the guardian between worlds,” she said. “It will take some time for the effects of this to be felt. The Kami War will continue for a while, but we will soon show the spirit world that there is no more reason to fight.”

Kyodai spoke up. “The nature of spirit worship will also change, over time. Michiko and I are far more interested in a blending of the two realms, in sharing each’s assets with the other. This too will take time. There will always be spirits and those who pray to them. We will not change that. But the power of the spirit world, the magic their blessings create, these things will be far more accessible to the people of the utsushiyo.”

“There is one more enemy you must overcome,” Toshi said. “Mochi, the Smiling Kami of the Crescent Moon.”

Kyodai looked perplexed, but Michiko nodded. “He is a mischievous moon spirit,” she explained. “He facilitated and encouraged my father’s crime so that his people, the soratami, could profit from it.”

Kyodai’s yellow eyes narrowed. “And where is this moon kami?”

“I am here, Lady.” The boyish voice spoke from a cloud of glittering blue dust. A sharp, glowing white smile appeared in the center of the cloud, and the dust coalesced into the moon spirit’s familiar chubby shape.

“Hail to thee, newly crowned rulers of both worlds. I offer fealty and service from the Smiling Kami of the Crescent Moon.”

“That’s Mochi,” Toshi said. “He’s prone to flowery speeches.”

“And Toshi is prone to suspicious accusations. I am not a harmful spirit, O sisters. I am playful and duplicitous, but I have never wished you ill or done you harm. Not by action or omission.”

“But you did encourage Konda to raid the spirit world.”

“That was through ignorance and curiosity. I had no idea he would capture a living spirit. I never expected him to seal you up in a room for twenty years. Michiko can tell you: I have helped her several times, always at some risk to myself.”

“My sister has a kindly disposition,” Kyodai said. “But she and Toshi both view you with suspicion.”

“I am playful and duplicitous,” Mochi said again, displaying his dazzling moon-white teeth. “If you know Toshi at all, you’ll know he actually admires me on some levels. He just doesn’t like the competition.”

“I do know Toshi,” Kyodai said. “And there is more truth in his blood than there is on his lips.”

Mochi’s smile softened. “I’m sorry, Lady. I don’t understand.”

“Toshi has a blood debt against you,” Kyodai said. “I have tasted it.”

“No longer,” Mochi said quickly. “The oath has been dissolved.”

“Oath?” Kyodai said. “I know nothing of oaths. But I have come to understand reckonings.” She turned to the ochimusha. “You have not asked for any sort of reward, Toshi. Not even after I thanked you for all your help. I believe I know what would make you happy. Would you like me to try?”

“Lady.” Mochi’s smile had grown strained. “Please don’t jest.”

Toshi looked at the moon spirit. He thought back to all the trouble he’d had with the soratami and their agents. Many who had suffered and died along the way could trace the cause back to the little blue kami with the brilliant smile.

“Go ahead,” Toshi said. “Try.”

Kyodai cupped her hands and gazed deeply into them. She was muttering something under her breath. Nearby, Mochi tensed and strained, but he didn’t move.

“Trying to flee?” Toshi called. “It didn’t help Uyo. I’m betting it won’t help now.”

A small curl of smoke rose from Kyodai’s hands. The smoke curved into a circle as it rose, forming a tiny vortex. The inverted cone grew taller and wider at the open end, eventually curving toward Mochi. It stopped a few feet from the little blue kami, but the mouth continued to widen until it was taller and broader than Mochi himself.

A familiar, terrifying chuckle rose from the center of the vortex. Toshi felt a combination of giddy anticipation and mortal dread. If that was were it sounded like …

Hidetsugu’s leering face appeared in the cone of black smoke. His eyes were whole and they glittered in cruel amusement. Instinctively, Toshi stepped back, but the o-bakemono chided him before his heel left the ground.

“I see you, blood brother.” The ogre blinked his restored eyes. “You have nothing to fear. In fact, I owe you a huge debt.”

Toshi relaxed somewhat as Hidetsugu turned back to Mochi. “Speaking of debts …”

The vortex was an unstable window to wherever Hidetsugu was. Though his head originally filled the cone, the smoke swirled, and cinders flew across the opening until the ogre’s entire body was visible. Hidetsugu wore a black sleeveless robe tied loosely around his waist.