Chapter 6: What must I do?
Naomi waited in that horrible silence alone in the main room. The sun now had fully dipped into the horizon, replacing the bright blue sky with a dark purple covered with small, white specks for stars. Outside the house she could hear chirps of insects and croaks of frogs. Takeo and Naoki were urged to bed early, while she stood outside of her father's room.
Wait. All she could do was wait. Many thoughts circled through her head once the loud sounds of crickets could no longer keep her distracted. So much had been revealed to her in such a short span of time. Yet there was more that was yet to be seen.
Nothing was to be heard from the other side, which made Naomi doubt if he was even there, but the sliding open of the door proved her wrong. She had seen samurai armor before, but the sight of it on her father made her stomach churn. It was exactly how she pictured it in her dream.
The layered plates resting on his chest, arms, and hanging from his waist were colored with red, white and blue, collecting itself into a symbol of a fan. Although Naomi could not see the back of his armor, she knew what had been on the back.
A Red Torri.
From his side hung his katana. The weapon of the Samurai. The blade wore itself in a silver dulled with age, but even with that in mind it was still able to reflect the andon's orange light. Within the weapon's guard danced a golden serpent, not able to reach its own tail. Naomi wondered what he had done while that snake simply watched.
All of this was as though a dead man had come back to life.
"How do I look?" Her father asked, adjusting the secureness of his arm braces.
She smiled and replied, "like the emperor's champion."
Her father flinched at the comment and Naomi averted her eyes to look at the ground. Even though she knew the man before her, she still couldn't look him directly in the eyes.
For a moment, the two stood there, unable to say anything, but what could they say. Everything was happening all at once yet no words could be formed to describe it. Naomi wondered if her father wanted to be involved with the Aramusha's deal at all.
That was until the distant rocking of the carriage parked outside broke the tension and her father must have thought it best to finally walk to the door. His steps onto the wooden boards were light as they carried no sound in their wake. Naomi followed close by to see him off and when he slid open the door she spoke.
"Father?"
He stopped at the sound of her voice and turned his head so that only half of his face could be seen. Outside was that same carriage she and he rode in before, the only difference was that the cloaked woman wasn't there and Naomi was glad for that.
Naomi hesitated, tensing her muscles as she opened her mouth, "just promise me one thing."
Waiting for her response, her father said nothing.
"When you get back, tell me everything."
Even through the darkness of the night, Naomi could see her father's eyes narrow.
"Please," she whispered.
As his eyes softened, she knew that she had gotten to him. It was completely confirmed to her when he nodded his head.
"I promise," he said finally, then shut the door behind him, leaving Naomi alone in the dimly lighted house.
Him leaving made her finally able to breathe and process the information given to her. He would finally tell her. Years of his stories about the emperor's champion's victories, losses, adventures would be told with interest from her. A samurai with great skill, adorned with the symbol of emperor.
The red Torri.
He would tell his stories in the most interesting of ways. Either with shadows from the lamp's light onto the wall or specific martial art movements. He loved telling them with great detail.
All except one.
One where the War of Wolves had begun. One where he would never use extravagant dances or pretty shadows. It was always a brief talk, a passing comment even. Where the emperor's champion disappeared and was never seen again.
That was until now. In fact, he had always been there, right under the very noses of those around them, even his own family. Yet, being exposed by someone outside of their control was the way to find out? Now her father has to listen to every order of the man whose dishonor wears him like a dark cloak. If it wasn't for that Aramusha none of this would have happened.
If it wasn't for her killing Mobura none of this would have happened.
Shame hit Naomi like a sharp arrow through the chest. She covered her mouth in shame, taking many steps backward until she hit the wall. What had she done? A fool she was to think that killing someone like him would not bring any consequences. Now another Daimyo was hot on her tail for the scroll that she had stolen. Not only a Daimyo, but her own father.
Would it be best just to lie low for a while? To avoid a confrontation with her own flesh and blood? But what if Lord Satake gets suspicious? Naomi didn't know anymore and it pained her to think about the man's intent. Yet it wouldn't do her any good to stand around and do nothing.
Sighing, she shifted her balance back onto her feet and made her way to her room. Light poured in from a sliver as she slid open the door. The first thing Naomi set her sights on was her closet door. She rushed to it to yank it open, somewhat in fear that the thing she was looking for would be gone, but no. At the bottom of her closet was the box of the golden snakes, very similar to that of the snake on her father's hilt, stiff as any object could make of themselves.
Naomi reached down to touch the box, her hands shaking relentlessly as she did so. In one movement, she lifted the lid away. What was inside was no jewelry, or strings, or even some nice cloth, only the rolled up paper that contained strange symbols. Reaching down to rub her hands against its soft skin, she picked it up and carefully unrolled it. The paper itself was nothing special, it was just like any washi piece, but what it contained was what caught her interest.
Symbols made from the darkest of ink that would forever stain the piece. Lines and swirls formed into strange pictures that placed themselves neatly into a column. It was as if each sentence was disguising itself to fit into the Myre's ways. Everything about this piece was foreign to her, but she knew one thing was certain.
These were not just symbols but a language.
It was not of the vikings for their patterns consisted of straight, thin lines. It was not of the knights for the language would be deemed unintelligible for them. The longer that Naomi looked at it the better she came to understand it without knowing their true meaning. This was no language of Heathmore, not of knights, vikings or samurai. So who was it from? And if Mobura had acquired this piece of paper outside of Heathmore, then what was his plan with it? What was Lord Satake's plan with it?
Time passed as Naomi's eyes strained to stare upon the scroll any further. For who could decipher a language as this without some suspicion?
"Naomi?"
Startled at the sound of her own name, she quickly turned around and hid the scroll behind her back.
"Naoki? Don't sneak up on me like that!" she whispered harshly to her sister, before realizing her mistake. She took a slow breath before calming herself down, "go back to bed."
The andon's light shrouded Naoki as a shadow, the details of her sister's face were hidden beneath the shadow. Even then Naomi could still see her silhouette shake with uneasiness and she doubted it was because she yelled at her.
Naomi's eyes softened at the young girl, "Naoki?-"
"I saw someone outside," the girl said.
Naomi straightened herself. She became more concerned as she saw her sister take a step closer, "I saw them go into father's dojo."
"Do you know what they looked like?" Naomi asked.
Perhaps it is just a common thief.
"No, they were wearing a cloak."
No. That can't be. Could it really be that same woman? Anyone could wear a cloak and trespass onto land, but of all the places to sneak into, her father's dojo was not something she would expect. If it were true, why would she be sneaking around her father's land? Was this all a ploy to get her father away to strike? The thought of someone harming Naomi's family...
A shiver ran down her spine.
An idea struck in her head. A foolish one really, but considering the circumstances it was the best one she's got.
"Dim the lights and go hide in Takeo's room," she ordered.
Naoki didn't leave right away, which slightly irritated Naomi, "what are you going to do?"
"Nevermind that, just go, and close the door behind you," urged Naomi.
Naoki did as she was told, sliding the door when she left. Traces of her silhouette were shown through the paper thin walls, until the figure faded as the andon's light was blown out. When Naomi was certain that her sister was gone, she went back to her closet and felt her hand at the floorboards. Once she felt the loose crack, she curled her fingers around it and lifted the board away.
As she peaked into the hidden safe, the dead eyes of the white mask stared back at her. The noh mask, a common feature of the Nobushi, stared back at her like an expressionless ghost. It possessed no lips for it to berate her for this idea, and its wooden stiffness would refuse any chance for it to change its expression.
The mask was set on top of some neatly folded clothes. The leather and cloth shirt and pants held only the dullness that the color gray could offer them, but the jinbaori took pride in its deep red color. Unlike the bright red Torri, this red was darker, crimson even. It blended well with the darkness of the night. Next to the clothes were some armor for her shoulders and upper arms. While little armor was not the best in scenarios of the mighty confrontation of battle, a light body with a quiet foot was more than sufficient to get her around.
Naomi was quick to put on her equipment but slowed once her eyes met the mask again. As she picked up the mask, she wondered what would happen if her father found her in this state. What would he say? Would he act in such a way that he should feel disgust toward her? That his eldest daughter was the night spirit?
She shook herself away from those thoughts. Not now. Now was the time for her to see who was trespassing. Taking the scroll, she placed it snugly beneath her jinbaori. Perhaps it was foolish to not put it back into her hiding spot, but if this really belonged to that Aramusha, then she needed answers.
Making her way out of her room, Naomi crept quietly through the house until she found the back door. Opening it, her ears were immediately shrouded in the sounds of the night. The cicadas cried so loud she was convinced that they were all over her body. Through the darkness, she could see the silhouette of the dojo she knew all her life, from the day she first came to this village all those years ago. And through those mighty wooden doors whose colors dulled with age sheltered a light. A dim yet warm, orange light that seemed to invite her to a bliss she always wanted.
Even despite a seemingly welcoming aura, Naomi felt a shiver travel through her body and her throat tensing up. Consciously feeling the pocket of her jinboari, she made sure that the scroll was still within her keeping. The dojo was about 50 feet away from where she stood, but it was not the distance that bothered her. Something didn't feel right.
She could feel something in the shadow. Whether man or animal, something lurked in the night, stalking the mysterious warrior. Perhaps it was the real night spirit, come to punish her for her crimes.
Stay focused. Light steps.
Naomi took a breath and took a step into the dirt. The leaves of the tall trees rattled slightly in some unheard wind. She found herself quickening her pace as she tightly gripped her naginata. If something were to lurch itself out of the shadows and onto Naomi, she would be ready.
Yet nothing came, the leaves only shuffled like they were uncomfortable, and that made Naomi feel so much worse.
She thanked the gods that the doors appeared right in front of her. Naomi could see clearly now that the warm light she fixed her eyes upon was shown through a crack in the door, leaving it just wide enough for someone like her to fit in.
No warmth came to her body once she entered her father's dojo, and, even though she never knew why, she was almost disappointed. Instead, what she found, sitting alone in front of that lonely light, was a figure shrouded in a dark cloth.
The cloaked woman.
Naomi knew it.
To make oneself completely unaware of the normal senses, one must be able to walk on air. She did so, making every placing of the foot a conscious choice. One foot in front of the other. The risk of kicking a rock under her feet would not hold her status in the night true. The light was growing ever brighter now as did the woman, but never once did she move, nor even flinch similar to the flickering sparks that the lamp would create. She was as still as a stone, a statue holding itself up despite the enormous weight it possessed.
Just three steps ahead, Naomi found that this woman held no qualities of hard rock at all. Her back ever so slightly rose and fell. A small detail to be missed, if not for the puffs of air she released from her body.
With only a mere step ahead, the silence broke with the sound of Naomi's voice echoing through the dojo, "I have seen thieves break into houses before.
Naomi lifted her chipped naginata to the woman's neck. The exact position she took on Mobura with, "but this is certainly unexpected."
The woman didn't flinch at the sight of the silver blade. Her chest merely rose and fell as air traveled through her body. Her eyes were closed as if she had peacefully fallen asleep. Tilting her head, Naomi waited for a response.
"I am no thief," the woman responded indifferently.
"Oh?" Naomi asked, pretending to be amused, "clearly not. A thief does not simply trespass onto a master's property."
She stepped around the woman, her blade still pressing against the woman's neck. An orange hue from the lamp's light painted itself onto everything that was near it, but even through the filter, Naomi could see that this woman wore the color yellow as though she were the sunrise through the darkest of nights. The leather outlines took on a brown that was brighter than any of the bark of the trees in all of the Myre.
"Indeed," she acknowledged, able to pick up on the sarcastic hint.
Naomi was now directly in front of her, the point of her weapon craved to dig itself into the woman's neck. The woman continued, "And I suppose a thief also does not steal what doesn't belong to them?"
Those last words made Naomi flinch. Does she know? How would she know? A small smile crept onto the woman's face. She hummed in acknowledgement.
Clearing her throat Naomi straightened herself, "then I'm sure you have been expecting me." she thought it best not to linger for too long, "since you seem to know so much about me, I would be honored to know more about you and this," she reached into her jinbaori and took out the scroll, "piece."
"Oh, yes. You are quite predictable. I suppose it is the result of such a limited practice," The woman finally gazed up at Naomi and tilted her head slightly as if amused at the situation.
"Avoiding my request now are we?," asked Naomi.
The woman tilted her head back to its original position. Her whole body did not falter at this moment, "there is nothing you need to know, nor shall I ever give the information to you."
Naomi pressed the tip of the blade further into the woman's neck. Her body seemed to stiffen at the sudden move as she leaned back.
Naomi spoke in a low voice, "Remember who is at the mercy of the blade."
There was an air of confidence when the woman replied back, "Yes," that word was like venom dripping from the veins of a serpent, "and it would seem that it is you."
Naomi couldn't tell what the woman meant by that before her Naginata was suddenly grabbed by the upper hilt. With sudden strength it was pulled at such a speed, Naomi didn't have time to let go and was thus pulled closer to the woman. The woman turned herself to the side so as to not hurt herself with the blade and connected the soul of her foot to Naomi's gut. Air escaped her lungs as the force of such a kick made her let go of her weapon and stumbled back, though she had not fallen.
"Just as I thought," the woman said.
Naomi found that she had stood up, letting the cloak fall ungracefully to the ground in a heap. What covered the streaks of fabric she wore was armor. Severely different to that of the samurai. Her chest, arms and shoulders were covered in some sort of smooth metal, with the orange reflection of the light being smudged within its picture. From her waist down, she wore only a sort of red leather.
The woman inspected Naomi's naginata with morbid curiosity, "Dull." She then tossed it away behind her. It bounced on the ground a few times before it made its resting place.
Then, as if to show off what a real weapon was, the woman reached both arms to her back and pulled out two...
Swords?
They were strange weapons. Presumably as sharp and deadly as any katana, but what made them different was the fact that their straight direction ended in a sharp hook with their points staring back at their owner.
"I expected more from the infamous night spirit."
Naomi, regaining her balance, planted her feet. For her to be incapacitated so easily stunned her. Why hadn't she been more careful?
"If you just hand over the scroll peacefully, no harm will come to you," said the woman.
Naomi didn't move a muscle, despite every part of her better judgment to do so, something in the back of her mind told her not to. If she did give the scroll to this woman, what were her plans with it? What were Lord Satake's plans with it? It was obvious that the writings within were important. So important that a dishonored samurai that somehow held such high regard would want it back.
Taking a step back, she tightened her grip on the scroll. She did not want to answer back until her questions were met with satisfactory answers. The woman, seeing that Naomi had not followed her request, gave an exacerbated sigh, "so be it, then."
Such quick speed could only be controlled by something with a lightweight within their steps. Not even a small sound was made from them as the woman charged at Naomi. She barely could comprehend what the distance traveled before her sights were completely covered by the women, with both her hooked swords around her shoulder about to plunge into her.
To challenge such quick movements, Naomi had to rely on her reflexes to keep her alive. She tucked her whole body to the ground and rolled to get behind the woman. The air of the swing felt cool on her neck.
Too close. One could only imagine what would have happened if she had not gotten out of the way on time.
As swift as any samurai, Naomi swung her leg around to knock the assassin off her feet. The woman had not a moment to react before she fell on her back with a loud *thump.* She heard the woman give a grunt as it happened. This gave her enough time to stand up and run to her naginata. As soon as she grabbed it, she turned around and took her stance with the hilt strongly secured within both of her hands.
"How's that for dull?"
Naomi cursed herself for the scroll in her hands was now crinkling as she held the weapon. She shoved the scroll back into her jinbaori. The strained grunts of the woman rang in her ears as she got herself off the ground rather quickly. As if they both shared the same mind, the two women both started to circle around each other like they were preparing for a dance.
Naomi didn't have to wait long before the woman charged at her, with the back of the hilts, which also held a sharp edge, going straight for her. Then, as though they were light as feathers, the woman spun the longer part of the blade towards her so that she could make a large attack. With steps quick as the mouse, Naomi took a large step back, and planted herself on one foot. Balance was key as the swing narrowly missed her. Now the woman was caught off guard.
Reaching her naginata outward, she directed the blade to the hook of one of the other woman's swords. Once caught on, she pulled back with all of her might, ripping it away from her hands as though it needed to escape from her. It clanked on the ground multiple times before coming to a sudden halt. Naomi's reflexes were not fast enough to hook the other sword and the woman took the chance to lunge at her.
Planting her naginata, she used it to balance herself as she spinned herself for a kick. The back blade of the warrior grazed her arm and pain immediately shot from the small cut. When her foot connected with the woman's stomach, she knew it was a successful hit, sending the strange warrior tumbling backward. Going back from the kick and gripping the naginata in both hands, she spun over, sending a wide swing over to the woman. If not for her lifting that hook sword on time, Naomi would have had a perfect hit. The wood made a hollow *clack* sound as it collided with the metal.
Quickly switching for the side, Naomi switched her attack from the other side. Just like before, the woman could barely block it with even one hook sword before the naginata clashed down on her. The woman flinched at every blow that was attempted, as if the strain of a weapon was too much for her to bear. Finally the last swing came not at an overhead or from her side, but it went for the woman's legs.
Reaching the blade for the back of the ankles, Naomi violently pulled back, sending the woman to the ground once more. This time she knew it would hurt. The hook swords which the woman once held herself so gracefully with had now left the confines of her hands.
The woman looked disoriented. She made a few grunts and tried to lift herself off the ground, but Naomi stopped her by placing her foot firmly on the woman's chest. Just like before, She lifted the blade to the woman's neck.
"Now," Naomi said through heaving breaths, "tell me what I want to know."
The woman didn't answer, she only stared deeply into Naomi's soul as an eerie silence overtook them. For a small moment she wondered what the warrior must be thinking at this moment. She wondered what could lead a woman like her to a path such as this.
"I don't want to hurt you."
And still the warrior said nothing.
This can't be right.
All of this felt too easy. Something else was deeper than the initial confrontation and she doubted it had nothing to do with her combat skills. Perhaps it was the spirits, screaming at her to not be such a fool. To run as far away as she possibly could. But run from what exactly?
*Clap* *Clap*
A new sound took hold of Naomi's ears, catching her off-guard from the moment. The following steps made her turn her head to the source.
"Well done, my dear," a voice commended.
Out of the darkness a shadow formed into a man, one whose details Naomi couldn't figure out.
"The skill required to handle such a weapon is nothing short of astonishing."
Naomi shivered as the orange light illuminated on his ragged clothes. Such a compliment sounded like a threat. A threat that oozed with such malice, that it could make nature and the spirits within silent.
The light revealed his entire figure, tall and full of confidence, "such speed and grace are found in few warriors these days."
Lord Satake walked alone within the shadow of the dojo, yet his appearance was as though he could spark the undead behind his back. The two swords that shone from the muffled orange-silver light took no image on any of his surroundings.
Naomi couldn't find the words to speak. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be within the fortress with her father.
A warm smile crept onto his face, "I expect nothing less from the daughter of the emperor's champion."
To say that air left Naomi's lungs would be an understatement. Her ribs felt as though they were crashing into her already collapsing lungs that forced her to take a step back. In her head she could only repeat three words.
He knows me.
Lord Satake got closer, "don't act so surprised my dear. It was not that hard to figure out."
Even if she wanted to, she still couldn't speak. Whether out of fear, surprise, anger or a combination of all three, she just could formulate any thought to words.
"Now," said Lord Satake. He looked over to the woman on the ground as if telling her something in a silent language,, "we need to attend to some business."
As soon as those words left his mouth. The body of the woman had moved incredibly fast to knock Naomi off her feet. She had no idea where she was flying until her side hit the ground. Pain set in before a numbness took the whole of her arm. The sounds that finally escaped her mouth were not words, but muffled screams of agony.
Even in such a condition, her desperation led her to place her balance on her knees, and in a state of disorientation, swung at the first thing she saw in an attempt to survive. Something caught onto the hilt of her naginata, and as though the weapon itself were in a state of panic, left the confines of her hands and cowered in fear when it bounced on the ground. The woman was standing above her, with both her hook swords back into her possession. Her blades had crossed over each other and covered Naomi's neck like giant sheers.
Her mind raced with panic as she desperately looked around for even a single passer-by. To her surprise there were many. Shadows formed into the shapes of human beings and closed the distance between them and her at a very slow pace. They encircled the group, making no effort to release her from this torture. Naomi almost called out to the shadows, but an invisible tug at her lips prevented her from doing so.
These people were not there to help her. The Aramusha had many followers and they all had watched her from a distance. Many gripped their weapons' hilt protectively. The eyes that can be seen through the slit in the black mask all keenly beheld her actions.
She wouldn't have gotten out of here even if she tried.
Should she scream for help? For her sibling's safety? But what would happen if she did? If there was even a flinch, a hint of movement from the lips, she feared that the two blades would clamp on her neck for the edges to meet.
"Don't fret, my dear,," the Aramusha said warmly. Two dark hooded warriors stood beside him, their faces unseen through such miniscule lighting, but Naomi could see Lord Satake's face clear as day. And it terrified her. "I am offering you a place to rest before we can settle things."
Naomi knew a night in a cell would do her father and her siblings no good.