“Quickly now. Gather all these scrolls and place them in the chest. We must not leave a single incantation or writing behind” said Master Agasha Tohai, gesturing to me and my two brothers, Iru and Naji. Excited, but careful to maintain the proper demeanour of an acolyte in one of the Chambers of the Third Echelon, we stepped over the rune-marked threshold, carrying the heavy scrollbox. The room smelled of dust and faint sulphur. Two of the walls were full of small round holes, and in each hole was a single scroll. A single window high in the far wall lit the room. I glanced out. Far below was the courtyard of Kyuden Agasha. There was a small crowd brightly-dressed nobles gathered there. The gates were open, and far off down the twisting path I could see travellers.

“I must attend to the other scroll chambers. Attend to your task – and do not open any of the scrolls. They are not for the eyes of acolytes,” said Master Tohai.

We went to our task in silence, pulling scrolls from the niches and stacking them in the chest. The quiet of the room was oppressive, a heavy shroud of silence. The sound of parchment scraping off the stone edges as I removed a scroll from its place was like thunder.

“So who won last night” asked Iru. His question echoed, and seemed incredibly loud. “Do you think?” he finished in a whisper.

“Obviously, Master Gennai. We are leaving, aren’t we?” I replied in a similar whisper. For the past month, the castle had been ablaze with arguments and debate. Master Gennai argued that the family must flee, leave the Hitomi usurpers to their own doom. He spoke of the murder of the one who we had called Yokuni, of the hand of darkness that was eating Hitomi, of the Togashi who fled, and of the Naga avengers who were cleansing the mountains. At first, he had not spoken openly, but when Kyuden Mirumoto was burnt, he had confronted Master Tamori.

Tamori had ignored all arguments, all calls to sanity. He would not leave, and he forbade any members of the family to even consider abandoning their oaths to the Dragon. Last night, the two had gone to the highest tower of the castle, and lightning and thunder had rent the air. Some claimed they had duelled, others that they had called up Agasha herself to advise them. All I knew was that Master Tohai had ordered us to prepare to leave.

“We should not go,” said Naji “it’s dishonourable. I think we’ re going to abandon the castle and go north, to defend the heartland. The daimyo needs the whole Clan for her final stand. Master Gennai would not turn his back on honour.”

“Look!” cried Iru. We all clustered around the window. Far below, the travellers had entered the courtyard. Five naga stood in a circle around a tall man dressed in green armour. Mirumoto Daini. We stared at the tableau in the courtyard, fascinated. Master Gennai, dressed in reddish-gold robes approached the circle of naga. They stared at him, five sets of eyes moving as one. Gennai bowed to Daini, a low bow of abasement. Daini bowed haltingly, as if he were unused to the gesture. Gennai began to speak. We could not hear his words, but the crowd nodded and seemed cheered. Daini watched impassively.

Suddenly, the door to the high tower burst open. I heard one of my brothers drop something behind me in shock, but I ignored the sound. Agasha Tamori strode forth, dressed in golden robes and bearing the ancestral swords of the family. His eyes burned with anger. The naga drew their bows in one fluid motion and aimed at him.

“So, Daini, you have returned to the mountains who birthed you at the head of an army of elder times. You have wounded your clan more than any traitor” shouted Tamori.

Daini met his gaze unflinchingly. Calmly, he said “You cannot blame me for this, Master. I have done what I must, what honour demanded of me. That thing who was my sister has twisted the Dragon, torn its heart out and replaced it with a foul nightmare of shadow, obsidian and blood. She and those who stand with her must be destroyed.”

Tamori laughed. “I stand by my oaths to the Dragon, Daini, and I stand with HER!” The moment those words left his lips, two of the naga loosed their arrows at him. Tamori gestured, and the arrows caught fire and burnt into ash, which was blown away in a sudden cold wind.

“It is most unwise to challenge the daimyo of the Agasha on his own ground,” said Tamori, an aura of power gathering around him, “you have murdered your own family and broken mine. For this, I curse you all! You Agasha who have abandoned your oaths, ye shall never know the Riddle, and you will be a lost people of the wind. You Naga, I swear to you that before the sun sets, ye shall feel the wrath of the Dragon. And you, Daini, all the torments and horrors of Jigoku are not enough for you. I shall content myself with the knowledge that you walk against Thunder. Now begone, all of you. This castle is the home of the loyal Agasha, and you are not welcome here.”

Daini stared at Tamori for a long moment, then made a slight bow. He then turned and spoke quietly to Gennai for a moment.

Iru let out a low whistle. “By the Emperor’s name…they’ll tell tales of what we just saw ‘til the moon falls. I thought Master Tamori was going to make the earth eat Mirumoto Daini up when –“

“We have to finish packing the scrolls away. I think Daini came to arrange passage through the lands the Naga have conquered. They must be close by…and if Master Tamori is staying, there will be a battle,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the window. Daini and his Naga escort were leaving the courtyard. Soon they would return at the head of hordes of serpent men. I turned back to the scroll racks.

Naji was standing over broken clay scroll-tube. He must have dropped it in surprise when he saw Master Tamori. He had partially unrolled the scroll, and was reading it, his eyes wide. “Stop that,” I shouted, grabbing the ancient parchment from his hands. It crumbled slightly, pieces of it breaking off and falling to the floor. I glanced at it;

“…call the Essence of the Dragon of the West, the Dragon of Fire and Flame, drawing on the very spirit of the shugenja, and burning it…”

“Master Tohai told us not to look at any of these. These scrolls are for masters only. This chamber hasn’t been opened centuries. Who knows what damage you could cause,” I said, shaking Naji like a kitten. He was the smallest of the three of us. He had a strange look in his eyes. I did not recognise it then, but I have seen it since in the faces of madmen, fanatics and seers, a gleeful certainty in fate. If I had known then…

Iru was snatching scrolls from their niches and tossing them into the chest as fast as he could without tearing the antique papers apart. He was eager to leave. I carefully rolled up the spell Naji had been reading, and gingerly placed it on top of the pile in the chest. We had packed almost all the scrolls, and I wanted to get Naji away from the room. He was not thinking clearly.

“Naji, go and find Master Tohai. Tell him we are almost finished here, and ask him what we should do next.”

Naji stared at me for a moment. He looked as though he were trying to remember something, and I got the eerie feeling that he was trying to remember who I, his brother was. I turned back to the wall of scrolls, reaching into cobwebby niches to pull out scrolls written by my ancestors when the world was young. My mind was spinning. The sheer power contained in that chamber, the events of the day, the confrontation between Tamori and the Naga – they all chased each other inside my head like excited Mujina-spirits. I should have paid more attention, but I did not.

The acolytes and Masters of the school were the last to leave the castle. I looked around the crowd of robed shugenja, looking for my brothers. There was Iru, shifting from foot to foot, ready to leave. Where was Naji? I began to panic, a sick weak feeling spreading through me. No sign of him….I looked back, hoping to see him running towards us from the castle. At the gate, I saw Master Gennai. Standing on the threshold of the castle was Tamori. Gennai was trying to persuade him to change his mind, but Tamori’s eyes were fixed on the battlements overlooking the valley. There was a single figure standing there, rail-thin, dressed in the thin robes of an acolyte. Even now, thinking back, the memory of that panorama, the black castle, shining blue sky, snowy mountains, and brilliant fiery sun, with that single figure silhouetted against the universe….the world turned on the axis of my brother.

Off to my right, I heard Iru shout as he too saw Naji on the battlements. Naji unrolled a scroll and began to chant. The wind off the mountains whipped his words away, but I could see his mouth shape the incantation. He raised his hands.

A hail of arrows struck at the battlements. The advance forces of the Naga raised their bows and fired arrow after arrow. A dozen shafts impaled my brother’s body – and burst into bright flames. He threw back his head and screamed – in exultation, not pain. Fire rushed out his mouth, his eyes burned like comets. In a sudden thunderclap, his form was burnt away like fine dry parchment in a bonfire. His soul caught fire and took his flesh with it.

I do not know what happened next. I have been told that sheets of flames rained down on the valley, burning it to cinders in a heartbeat. I am told that much of the Naga army was seared away, that the stench of burned snake-flesh lingers still, that my brother’s pyre engulfed the whole mountain. I do not remember that.

I remember looking into the inferno, looking for my brother.

And finding the Dragon.

Does my story end here, on this beach? I walk away from Iru’s drowned body and I breathe the strange smells of the ocean. It is deep and timeless, and reminds my that nothing is truly lost. Stories do not end, only tellers of stories. I shall stop telling now, for I have a journey to make. For my brother.