“Think of all the glorious moments we shared—when you taught me how to ride and swim, and when I thought you how to play jump rope and swing from a tree.”
The general dropped to his knees, the demons head still in his hands. What must he do? What should he do?
“Zeina, my daughter,” the general lamented to himself, his eyes heavy.
“Father you must be brave and let me go,” Zeina begged softly.
The general remained on his knees. What must he do? He closed his eyes and rolled the demon’s head forward. It rolled over some rocks and into the River of Fire and Poisons. He did not look at the head or the river to see what happened.
A brief moment later he opened his eyes and looked towards his daughter on the other side of the river. All was different around where she stood. The flames on the River of Fire and Poisons were gone, and the poisons were gone too, replaced by blue sparkling water. The darkness around Zeina was no more, replaced by bright lights that seemed to spring up from beneath her and ascend to the heavens. Each light carried with it a human—children, men, women, all smiling and looking down at the general as they floated upwards.
“Who are they?” the general asked of the nevii in a gentle mournful voice.
“Souls of the Undying, General. You have freed them to meet their maker at last.”
The general looked up again, and this time he saw his former enemy, Dahnay, who waved down at him as he too floated towards the heavens.
Zeina slowly walked across the bridge and came to her father. He lifted her up and kissed her on the head. He held her close to him for a long moment.
“Go now, child,” said the general to his daughter, “And know that you are the bravest little girl in the world. What you have done here today is not for the weak hearted, child. You will always remain in my heart.”
The general gently wiped off the tears from his daughter’s cheeks as the nevii gently and slowly floated towards the heavens with her, the light emanating from them brighter than all the others before it. She was the last of the chosen Undying to leave, taken by the nevii himself.
“Look not to the past, Father, but to the future,” Zeina shouted down at her father just before she disappeared into the heavens, “For it is there that all wounds heal and where true happiness can be found.”
The heavens soon cleared up and darkness returned. The general lost consciousness and dropped to the ground. When he opened his eyes again he was staring at the face of the Wizard of Sheba. He had been brought back to the land of the living, in the very same manner he had been placed in the Realm of the Undying, a manner known only to him and the wizard.
The wizard was standing next to the general’s horse, left where the general had left it before he departed for the Realm of the Undying.
“Welcome home, My Lord,” said the wizard to the general.
The general stood up. His wounds were healed and his pains were no more. He reached into his pouch, pulled out the horn of Garone and handed it to the wizard along with the tailbone of the Bruth he had worn around his neck.
“To you, the spoils of war be given, Wizard of Sheba,” said the general to the wizard.
“And your daughter, My Lord?” asked the wizard.
“She is happy.”
“I am pleased, My Lord.”
“So, wizard who has no name,” the general continued, “To you I have delivered what you asked for. For what purpose was your prize?”
“My Lord the horned demon is only one demon in a long line of demons to be vanquished in an endless fight between good and evil. My battle is only one of a long line of battles that I continue after my father and his fathers before him, and one which my sons and their sons and daughters will continue after me until evil is rid of for all time.”
“I wish you much luck, Wizard of Sheba.”
The general turned to mount his horse and depart, but then turned suddenly and faced the wizard. He took the wizard’s arm and shook it heartily and sincerely.
“I thank you, Sir, Wizard of Sheba” said he truly to the wizard, “I thank you.”
The general mounted his horse and rode back towards his home in Roha, a look of absolute satisfaction and fulfillment on his face.
Sekadi's Koan
by
Geoffrey Thorne
His blade entered Sekadi’s body between two ribs on her lower right side and proceeded to carve an elliptical path through her abdomen. It came out again so quickly that it was only by the sudden spray of blood that she knew she’d been touched at all.
Her opponent’s speed surprised her. She had never thought one so massive could move so quickly. His technique was also hard to identify. There was an improvisational quality to the big male’s form that had kept her off balance for most of their spar. She would have admired him if she hadn’t so badly wanted him dead.
Her breath came hard suddenly and she realized that her lung, among other things, must have been pierced. In moments she would be unable to stand.
“Break,” said Mosuoe Nemisa on her right. Sekadi caught a glimpse of the master’s scarlet robes flapping ever so slightly on the cinnamon breeze. Beyond Nemisa, through the thin afternoon haze, the sun was just considering its eventual dip toward the horizon.
The big male froze instantly at the Mosuoe’s words– the curve of his great sword gleaming with the fires of the reflected sun.
Sekadi’s own weapons, the willow daggers, were clever little things, their blades as thin as marsh grass, whose edges could sever bone. In the right hands they could turn a crescent blade attack
