Today should have been the Bon Festival, but even that vestige of the Rokugani religion seemed to be undermined by the so-called "Age of Man". As the shugenja stared at each of his men and women, he thought of the shrines near Shiro Iuchi. They perhaps were gathering dust, for nearly all the Unicorn had been mobilized since the time of Emperor Toturi's dissapearance. Today a field of war would have to serve where an altar to the fallen had for generations.
Kanjin looked to the north, to where the cold peaks of the Dragon stretched to the sky. He had not visited the lands of Clan Dragon since the Day of Thunder, but now they seemed to rise to the heavens in a challenge, not in praise. His mind drifted to the memory of his friend Togashi Amadan. An outsider, like Kanjin's Clan would always be seen.
They had walked as brothers for seven years. Even in the time of the Clan Wars, they had fought together in spirit, though the loyaties of their Clans set them apart at times. Kanjin remembered the words he had spoken an hour ago to his troops, "This day, we remember those who have passed before us, those who have honored the name of their Clans. We remember great deeds, and we must remember the folly of those who have passed as well. Our ancestors guide us with their wisdom, sometimes gained in error. Only a fool repeats the errors of his forefathers."
The Magistrate looked across the war-torn plains. Three years after the Clans turned upon each other in the weakness of the Emperor, Kanjin could say without doubt that nothing had been learned.
Over the next hill, the Mantis also sat in silent reverie. Yoritomo Hatori knelt by his soldiers, his no-dachi lay across his his knees. He knew well the position of the Unicorn army near him, but gave it no thought. The two armies had agreed to make no war on this day.
It was perhaps the first example of honor over steel that he had seen in a long time.
Hatori thought about the past week. He had watched his lord Rohei take his own life to end the shame he had brought down upon himself. He was commanded to return to the main army of the Mantis, but before he could, a courier from Yoritomo commanded him to proceed with Rohei's mission. They had encountered the Unicorn army that had defeated them before two days later.
Since that time, Hatori had frantically thought of a way to work around the Unicorn, to divide them, to dissuade them, to trick them, so he may carry out the wishes of his Daimyo. The samurai could think of nothing.
Rohei-sama, he thought to himself, I have learned your lesson well, my lord. I will never underestimate the enemy, and to insult the opposing general is a grave mistake when he has done nothing dishonorable.
Rohei-sama, forgive me. Your lessons cannot help me now.
On the Kaiu Wall, there was no rest. Hida Chono gripped his great tetsubo angrily as he paced along the Wall since sunrise of the day. The Crab were used to breaking tradition in order to keep the evil of Fu Leng's creatures at bay. In the past, however, even the Crab had found ways to honor their ancestors on the day of the Bon Festival.
Stretched to the limit, the forces of Clan Crab could afford no such luxury this time. To himself, with every footstep, Chono remembered the names of his family, his ancestors, which he could trace back to the First Crab, Hida. When he had finished that, Lady Ameratsu held the noon position in the sky. At that time, he thought of the memory he would leave for his descendants.
There would be none.
The great Hida bushi looked to the Shadowlands, to where Hiruma Castle's walls stood, and thought of two names. His dead son, Hida Kazuya, lost to the evil of that foul place. He thought of Hiruma Tsuneko, the young scout that he may never see again.
Even the will of the mighty O-Yama, Hida Chono, nearly broke to the fury that gathered in his soul.
Far to the north and east, a short robed man knelt alone in a small shrine. Thousands of candles burned around him, and his quiet voice murmured prayers to his ancestors. After every name, he spoke of their deeds, of their honor, and lit another candle. It had been such since sunrise.
Asako Sano, once known as Shiba Sano, the Claws of the Phoenix, let the peace of the ritual overtake him, and his mind slipped into the Void. He saw the faces of each man and woman he named, though he had never met most of them. He thought of the wise Shiba, the First Phoenix, and he could see the face of the Kami in his mind.
Suddenly, Sano's eyes fluttered open. He had heard Shiba's voice. He had heard the voice of the Phoenix Kami... and the voice of another. The stocky shugenja picked his staff off the ground and stood. It was time for him to journey again. To the coast. He had heard the voice of the First Phoenix command him to a long-forgotten castle.
As he left, the serene and smiling face of Shiba could be seen in the glow of the candles.
Near the Imperial City, two Crane samurai knelt in a tent, incense burned in the air around them, and their swords and helms lay to the side. They had been this way since sunrise. One broke the silence finally. The young Doji man said quietly, "Sensei, what does Doji think of this?"
The other, a beatiful Daidoji woman of middle years, did not open her eyes, but smiled. "Doji-kami thinks nothing _of_ this, Yadika. Her hand guides us now, for we have risen from the courts to defend the Empire with our steel and not simple words."
The younger nodded, but did not understand. Just then, a messenger opened the tent flap. "I am sorry, Shiko-sama, but Doji Kuwanan-sama wishes to speak with you now." The Daidoji looked up and reached for her helm. The messenger continued, "The Mantis have moved towards us again."
Shiko nodded, and was nearly overcome with fury in an instant. How dare they? Today we remember our ancestors, today we give them tribute, and the Mantis disturb even this holy day? She turned her pain inwards and focused it, adjusting the war-fan in her obi. Yoritomo would pay.
The three men stopped moving at dawn, and as was the custom, they had found cover, and two had fallen alseep. The third quietly kept watch in his ninja garb. The sun shone clear, and clouds moved across the sky slowly since dawn.
Behind him, he felt one of the men wake up and move to his side. "Today is the day of the Bon Festival, gaijin." Said the Scorpion Archer, Bayushi Tashiro.
"Hai," came the only response.
"Are such things done in the land of your home, Amadan?" Tashiro asked, then added, "In the land of your birth, I mean. Do they observe a day for their ancestors?"
The gaijin looked down and smiled weakly, "Not really." His brow furrowed in thought, and then he said, "Somewhat." Then he signed in resignation, "I'm sorry, friend. It's complicated. When this is over, I'll tell you all about it." He turned to the white-haired man, and he could see a slight hint of pain on the Scorpion's features. "You think of her on this day, don't you?"
Tashiro nodded slowly, and closed his eyes. The vision of his sister's death haunted him again and again. He thought of Bayushi, who also lost greatly, as Tashiro had. "I have lost her for forver," he whispered to himself.
Amadan's mind drifted as well, his thoughts of the Ancestors of the Dragon Clan, of which he would never be counted among, and who would never favor him as they did their bloodlines. He thought of how his Clan would not be able to honor their ancestors this day, for the Naga would never be convinced to allow them a day of rest for such a reason. The Naga called the ancestor worship sheer folly.
The gaijin thought of Hitomi. Did she pray to Togashi? Mirumoto? Were they allowed a day of rest, to what ancestors would her ise zumi, who had taken her name, pray to? Amadan sighed, and put a hand on Tashiro's shoulder. "Rest, friend. Our journey is far from over."
In Otosan Uchi, a lone Lion looked over the ramparts, and could imagine the war banners to the west and south waving in the breeze. Ikoma Hatori sighed, and gripped the stones in his hands. In a single word, with a single breath, the Ikoma bard let loose the pain and confusion he could feel in the air and knew surrounded the entire Empire.
Hatori arched his back, and in his praised, clear voice, he shook the clouds with his scream, "WHY!?"