Scott McGough - Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

“We will kill you,” the ogre recited. “We will burn your fields, steal your treasure, destroy your house, and enslave your children. We will murder your spouse, poison your pets, and pass water on the graves of your ancestors. We will do all this, and the only way to avoid it is if we cannot find you.”

The ogre turned to Toshi and they both said in unison, “We’ve already found you.”

Mochi continued to smile. “No,” he said gently. “Please, Lady. No.”

Hidetsugu undid his robe and grabbed the lapels. To Toshi, he said, “For Kobo.”

Toshi nodded. “For Kobo.”

Mochi screamed as Hidetsugu opened his vest. Instead of the burly mass of rippling muscles and scar tissue, his chest was a seething mass of black, disembodied jaws. Laughing uproariously, Hidetsugu spread his arms, allowing the horde of hungry mouths to stream out of the smoke vortex and swarm over the moon kami. His soft blue flesh tore beneath their fangs, and he screamed again, bleeding moonlight from a thousand jagged wounds.

Sharp-Ear, Pearl-Ear, and Michiko turned away. Toshi and Kyodai continued to watch. The savage nightmare lasted only a few seconds, but they were seconds Toshi would remember forever … sometimes with callous glee and sometimes with cold terror.

When they were done, the oni mouths left no trace of Mochi at all. They consumed the last speck of blood-spattered dirt and swarmed back into the vortex to re-enter Hidetsugu’s body.

“At last we are through, Toshi Umezawa.” Hidetsugu retied his belt. “The hyozan’s final reckoning is complete.” He bowed. “And to you, sisters,” he said, “you are always welcome in the halls of Chaos. Come visit me if you require a … different perspective.”

Kyodai bowed. She parted her hands, and the vortex of smoke dissipated into the air.

Toshi stepped up to the sisters. “If you do not need me any more,” he said, “I will be on my way.”

Kyodai bowed to him as she had to Hidetsugu. “Farewell, Toshi Umezawa. The world is a far more interesting place with you in it. We will surely meet again.”

Toshi turned to Michiko and winked. “Boss.”

Michiko nodded. “Umezawa-san.”

Sharp-Ear and Pearl-Ear both seemed dazed, but they were glaring at Toshi. He bowed, a malicious grin on his lips.

Eager to depart before the kitsune began making speeches, Toshi waved, spun his jitte around his index finger, and hiked off into the woods.

Half a day’s hike from the kitsune village, Toshi walked into an ambush. He was exhausted, and his head was spinning from the day’s events, so he didn’t feel too ashamed of being caught. He wasn’t overly fond of the sharp, silver spike that angled up through his ribs, but at least he wasn’t ashamed of being caught.

His attacker pounced from behind a tree. All Toshi saw was a flash of metal before the searing, icy pain shot through his lungs. Whoever she was, she was fast and determined, and she didn’t make a sound. She stood with her weapon in Toshi’s chest, glaring at him until he fell backward to the ground. She held onto the spike so that it scraped painfully against his ribs as it pulled free.

She was clearly a soratami. Even if her pale skin and slight build didn’t give her away, she was wearing a bizarre metal mask in the shape of the crescent moon. Had Mochi come with followers? Was he sneaky enough to bring a secondary force to avenge his own death?

Toshi tried to crawl away, but the slightest breath caused searing agony. His lungs felt packed with broken glass. The moon-maiden’s single visible eye held him contemptuously as his blood dripped from her weapon.

“So,” he managed. “What’s this all about?”

Slowly, the soratami reached around and undid the strap that held her mask in place. The metallic silver fell to the forest floor, and she looked at him, watching him bleed and waiting for him to recognize her.

Not that it should have been hard. Her nose was badly broken, bent in one direction from top to middle and in the other from middle to tip. She also had a series of deep, livid scars angling down one side of her face that stretched to her throat and on under her collar. Whatever had created those scars had also taken her eye.

“Sorry,” Toshi said. “Don’t know who you are. What’d I ever do to you?”

“I am Chiyo of the soratami,” she said. “You desecrated the streets of Oboro. You beat me bloody and set your oni dog on me.” She ran her fingers over her missing eye. “You murdered my mentor and my patron spirit.”

“Oh, that,” Toshi said. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his chest. “So … anything to say before you kill me?”

“I have already killed you. Now I am going to stand here and watch you die.”

“I can … I can think of better ways to spend five minutes.”

“I cannot. And you’ll be very lucky indeed if you only last five minutes. I was very precise. You should last at least thirty.”

“Oh, good. Time for a … pleasant little chat.”

“Say as much as you like, lowlife. I’ve seen how your mouth never stops moving. The more you talk, the more it hurts. I planned this very carefully.”

“How … how do you like the results so far?”

“Very satisfying. So far.”

Toshi .

Toshi perked up at the sound of a voice in his head, but even that sent fresh pain grinding through his torso.

I am almost ready to forgive you, Toshi . Night’s voice was calm, casual. Almost. Are you ready to be forgiven?

“I am.” Toshi spoke aloud because it was becoming difficult to think.

Chiyo sneered, unaware of the far more important conversation Toshi was having. “Not for long.”

Good. Now. I can save you, of course. I can take you away from here. I can even smite the vengeful soratami for you. All you have to do is ask .

“Smite,” Toshi said. “Smite away.”

“I’ve done all I need to,” Chiyo said.

Forgive me, my former acolyte, I misspoke. All you have to do is ask … and declare yourself mine once more .

“I am yours,” Toshi winced.

Again. Say it properly .

“I am yours, O Night.”

Excellent. Now. Extend your hand .

The pain was blinding, but Toshi managed to lift his arm.

“Oh, yes,” Chiyo said. “Beg. That would be a most unexpected bonus.”

Sneering through her ruined face, Chiyo leaned forward to catch Toshi’s dying plea. She was not so foolish or triumphant as to come within reach, but she did come closer.

A stream of solid darkness flowed from Toshi’s outstretched hand to Chiyo’s face. It hardened around her features in an instant, cutting off sight, sound, and air. She staggered by Toshi twice, wildly slashing with her silver spike, but she never made contact.

It was something of a fair trade: the pain in Toshi’s chest continued to mount, but he did get to watch Chiyo slow, stop, and ultimately fall to the forest floor.

“Thank you … O Night. I’ll take even a small, cheap victory … when it’s offered.”

Toshi, my loyal acolyte. I promised I’d save you, didn’t I?

“Yes. But I figured that was part … part of the joke.”

This is no joke, Toshi . Night’s voice grew loud, though her tone remained maddeningly calm. And besides … you don’t actually think I’m through with you yet … do you?

Toshi grunted. “I had … I had hoped.”

With a laugh that sounded like glass breaking on tombstones, the Myojin of Night’s Reach enveloped Toshi in a curtain of pure darkness.

Toshi regained consciousness on a high cliff overlooking the sea. He groaned and rolled onto his back, checking his chest with his fingers. The wound was gone, but some of the pain remained. It would be a while before he got his full wind back.