“By the time I reached 'im, 'is power was considerable and he was well entrenched in its seduction. Our battle was long and impressive. 'Is prowess with a blade even edging my own slightly with each move, and were it not fer the interjection of Tokugawa Ryu, I dare say I may 'ave not been the victor tha’ day. Ryu, havin' seen the terror 'is blade created, interjected himself to appease 'is guilt fer all tha’ had been felled by it. By tha’ time, 'is brother was dead and 'is lover missin'. 'Is son was lost t' tha ages and 'is purpose driven by lit'le more 'an 'ope tha' he’d find a way t' die. He jus' wanted an escape from the life tha Power 'ad given 'im.
“Word o' mouth spread from one Embracer t' another of tha power tha man Adragon Sakata 'ad commanded and tha blade he’d wielded. If one was in possession of the blade and sought nothin' more than knowledge and peace, they were Ryuujin, or fully, Ryuujin of the People. If they swayed tha other way too far, even if their ends weren’t as ruthless as Sakata’s, and believe me most were ne'er so crazy, they became Adragon of the Rage."
Nixon's dark, haunting eyes loomed heavily over the young man across the way. “Do ya see now, Aryu, the seemingly ironic title ya possess?”
Aryu thought it over, piecing it together. “Ryu. Ryu is this old-world tongue for dragon.”
Nixon nodded as he saw Aryu piece it together.
“In this old language, my name is Adragon.”
Nixon nodded again. “Well, more or less. ‘Lung’ is dragon in yet another tongue. You’ve got dragons all over yerself, Aryu. I suppose t’ some tha’ could be open t’ interpretation, but the coincidences are far too close for my liking.”
Boldness filled Aryu. “Such things are rarely coincidence, Nixon. I can’t say I’d have had your restraint in killing me. I am a man with a lot of terrible thoughts right now.” It was a more honest answer than Aryu wanted to give, but now was not a time to hide. If Nixon wanted him dead, he’d be dead, so the truth was the better way to go.
“Tha’ answer alone, sir, is more than enough reason t’ keep you alive.”
Nixon knew that a man who had completely succumbed to those feelings would never even know it, and they would convince his mind that the path he chose to kill and terrorize was the correct one. Indeed, they’d likely find others who agreed with him. The question was if the desire to keep Aryu alive was a passing thing, or if it would grow and fester from this point on. For once it seemed Nixon actually had a say in it how things turned out, and if things went downhill from here he’d be by Aryu’s side, ready to steer him right or cut him down.
Nixon liked Aryu. He acknowledged that he was young but smart and logical. Traits Nixon knew and respected. Their acquaintance had been brief thus far, but considering everything that had befallen this young man in the last few days, Nixon saw in him a strength that many people hundreds of years older lacked. Strength no doubt built throughout his life from the torment he’d suffered.
Still, one step down the wrong path, and Nixon would end this. It was his purpose and God’s will that it be so. No one was above that fact, even one so young.
So, with less reservation than he expected from the act, Nixon extended the blade known as Shi Kaze, the Four Winds, a ninjutsu sword created for revenge tens of thousands of years ago, back to the man who had found it resting in the remains of the mountainside that had held the false god Tokugawa Ryu in his rocky prison until he broke free to end his life and all the lives of the fools who followed him.
As impossible as it seemed, Aryu took it with a hint of hesitation, unheard of for many bearers of the Shi Kaze. Most wouldn’t have thought twice.
Aryu had heard many stories that night, each telling him this blade was more curse than salvation. Still, he knew he must have it. It was a powerful weapon. He may not have heard it whisper to him clearly, but the simple act of grasping the handle sent sparks of unspoken energy up into his body, like reattaching an arm he’d not known he’d been missing. It may not ever do for him what it had done for others, but it was still something more than he’d had only days before.
Nixon tended further to Esgona, slipping him water and little else. The fire burned brightly and kept them warm. Aryu lay there for a long time, thinking of his family and friends now gone, and all, apparently, because of him. He didn’t look forward to Esgona waking up, but when he did, he had a lot to answer for. No matter what Nixon had said, it was Aryu’s right by tradition to demand these things from Esgona, and he fully intended to do it.
In time, he did fall asleep, with Nixon watching over him quietly.
-----------------------
As dawn broke, the day was chilly and only the faintest light could be seen to the east.
Aryu arose to see the fire dead, the spot it had burned so fiercely the night before not even dark from the heat. He grabbed a quick snack of berries and edible plants Nixon had collected before he had awoken, thankful to get anything into his stomach. His mother always said to eat when
