Chapter 2 - Mirror in the Forest
There is only darkness in the beginning. I look around, but I don't think I have a body to look around with, let alone a head or eyes. I am merely a spectator, helplessly awaiting whatever might emerge from the dark. I don't know whether to fear or not, but I know that at least I can fear. Silently, I gaze out into the void, searching for whatever lurks there.
Suddenly, it shows itself. It is a blurry, red image of a young boy with a sword. He is suspended about six inches in midair, an arrow screaming past him underneath his sandles. The pictur begins to move, slowly at first, then speeding up to real time. Hundreds of arrows fill the vision as the boy unleashes a bloodcurdling scream. The vision ends with the boy still upright, the arrows still clouding him from view. Slowly, it fades away back into the shadows from whence it came.
As soon as it is gone, a new picture appears. This one depicts a young man with dark armor on horseback. He holds a bloodstained sword over his head, the red liquid dripping into his hair. His face is shrowded in shadow, making it impossible for me to identify him. Like the last, this image moves, but all that happens is the blood begins to actually fall, rather than being frozen to the blade. He is laughing maniacly; his laughter is full of malice, hatred, hurt, and revenge. Despite my horror at the man, I want to let tears fall down my cheeks, if I had them, as I realize that the murderous laughter sounds more like crying. The vision ends, fading away, and I wish desperatly to see no more.
I am denied, and the third vision appears. A young woman is depicted. Her back is to me, but I can still see her white dress and the gravestone she is kneeling in front of. Arrows are flying in all directions around her, and in the background, I see houses burning. The woman has long black hair tied into a ponytail. An expertly designed farm tool - a scythe I think it's called - lies forsaken on the ground behind her. I stare at the scythe, and for some reason unknown to me, I sense that it mourns the lost alongside its mistress. The gravestone, too, is sorrowful, and the sight of the two objects together is enough to bring rainclouds to my heart. Unlike the others, this vision does not move or make sound, and it remains in front of me far longer than the others. When it finally fades, I fade with it, and dissapear into the void.
* * * *
I awake with tears running down my cheeks. What was I dreaming of?
* * * * *
Hiroaki is sipping tea, looking out a window. When he sees me walk in, he offers to make me some as well. Gratefully, I accept, and we sit together by the window. The morning world is so beautiful, with the Sun, still low in the sky, enveloping Samui Natsu in a golden light. Cherry blossoms are scattered around the village, and the small homes stand in content silence. Only the statue of the Emporer, covered in all manners of waste, corrupts the aura of peace and cheer radiating throughout Samui Natsu. I sigh, taken in by the sheer beauty of it all, and sip my tea.
"I realized last night that you must have been headed somewhere when you came to Samui Natsu," Hiroaki says, his calm and quiet voice not disrupting the peace surrounding me. "If that is so, then I would understand if you would rather not come with me to my friend's house."
"Actually," I say, "I -- or, my brother and I, were tracking a certain Imperial Samurai." At this, Hiroaki raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"Who?" he asks.
"Akiyama, the fat samurai," I spit. "He needlessly had my Uncle assassainated, and I have sworn vengance against him." Instictively, I grasp the hilt of my sword.
Hiroaki smiles. "In that case, you definitly want to visit Shiro." I look at him, puzzled. "You see, Shiro is an old samurai, and if you pass his tests, he will make you a ten times better warrior in only seven or eight months!" I am truly intrigued.
"When do we leave?"
* * * * *
With Amukai in tow, Hiroaki and I make our way through the forest towards Shiro's house. Amukai pretends to be a ninja assassain, swinging from tree branches and leaping onto rocks. I cannot help but worry. At six years, Amukai is already obsessed with warfare, the same warfare Michio was obsessed with before he left. If Amukai becomes too much like Michio, then I think the Empire has defeated us.
The forest is a beautiful place for the sight, but for my mind, forests give me a sense of dread. It was in a forest where I saw the assassain with the bloodied knife run across my path. It was in a forest that I saw Amukai and a servant, the former on horseback, leaving my beloved house in flames. It was in a forest where I saw the green leaves stained red with blood, the crucified corpse of my uncle hanging over them.
I am jolted from my thoughts as I run straight into a tree. I roll down the hill, still too stunned to make any sound. When I stop, I glance around to see if Hiroaki saw it, but to my concern, he is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Amukai. I look skywards, and find clouds grey with rain hiding the light of the Sun from the forest. I grow worried, and call out loudly the names of my companions. My only answer is my echo. I try again, and again, and again, until rain begins to fall. I scurry beneathe a tree like a field mouse searching for safety from a falcon. I sit there, waiting and hoping for Hiroaki and Amukai amidst the rain.
Suddenly, the rain stops, as though some celestial being has put its hand above our heads to catch the rain. The wind stops blowing. The leaves cease their rattling. The sudden calm gives me a feeling of great unease. I call out to my friends; this time, not even the echo answers. I feel eyes watching me, hungry eyes. I search the forest frantically for those eyes. I see plants, trees, bushes, flowers, weeds...
Then I see it. A small brown fox, silently watching me from the brush. I stare into its black eyes, full of mystery and knowledge, yet also filled with a hatred that rips my heart to shreds. I cannot escape; the eyes have chained me to them, and the more I struggle to break free, the deeper I sink. It has been a million lifetimes, already, that I have been captive. In the eyes, I see a shape forming, like a bow, bent to its limits, or a scythe...
"Hey, Ryla!" I glance up at the top of the from whence I fell. There stands Amukai, his hands waving in the air, and Hiroaki beside him, smiling down at me through the rain that I realize is falling again. The wind has returned, too, and I joyously feel it fly through my hair. I glance once more at the fox, victory written on my face. I am almost dissapointed to find that it has vanished. I run up to my friends, wondering if it had all been just a dream. Hiroaki tells me that it is only perhaps ten minutes more hiking before we reach Shiro's home. I grin for the first eight of those ten minutes, but my face falls as I realize why I truly feared the fox in the forest.
The fox's face was my face.
* * * * *