Private The Western Book of the Damned

[Takahashi Aki]

Once upon a time there was an Oracle. An Oracle named Fuu who once gave the Lord Kazekage of the time some advice. Keep artifacts of great power off the board, not because it would hurt the common man, but to keep such things away from the Deviants. Block by block, little by little, did certain of items of power in Wind Country were dying down. All what was left of them were the legends of old. Destruction awaited these items of power. Some said it was Sungakure trying to consolidate power, others said it was a fight of technology against sorcery, and some claimed that it an attempt to silence another Cabal from being born. The Cabal were a group of adventurers who turned terrorist against Sungakure. There were reasons for that for good and for ill. What made the Cabal so dangerous was that they had access to artifacts which had given them their power.

Perhaps it was a futile efforts, or perhaps one without end but the Steward of Sungakure had made it a personal quest of his to shut down these objects of power. When the Steward set off to do this line of work most of the time he had done this work by himself. Today was different as he took with him someone who he trusted. The Lord Steward had enlisted the aid of the heir of the Toraono clan. He considered the heir to be able to keep secrets and something close to the chest. While the brother to the Toraono heir could have been considered more capable, Sousuke had a fear that the brother would turn on him in the face of having the chance to wield an object of power. It would not be the first time or the last time that Tama would betray Sousuke’s trust. It happened far more times than the Steward would like to admit, but he still found it in himself to forgive Tama each and every time.

***

A small travel caravan could be seen along the path. The caravan travelled seemingly unprotected. The merchants seemed to not have a care in the world as they travelled. The caravan travelled on and on. There were six members within the caravan. Four merchants but the other two were of a different fit. Upon closer investigation the caravan seemed more protected, as two of the travelers with the caravan were armed and not of the merchant profession. They were in fact shinobi of Sungakure. One of them were the Steward and the other was Michino, and both were undercover. “We’ll be there soon. A few more hours travel, and then we’ll be at the outpost. Then we’ll be a day or two travel if we want to not draw attention to ourselves.” Sousuke spoke lowly to Michino. He paused for a moment. “Your brother wouldn’t have the mind for that part. His methods are a little too flashy, and draw attention. Something I would prefer not to do.”

 

[Toraono Michino]

The Toraono Heir had been up to nothing short of working himself to the bone to keep his clan relevant as he could. The intake of refugees overwhelmed the old house at first, especially after it’s grand halls were turned into the new Academy Grounds, but Michino still managed it; somehow. Yet everyday was just another day at the academy to him, never taking any special note of a student who learned too quickly and spending his time with the ones who struggled. The swordsman had lost count the number of students he had personally taken under his wing to show the finer points of sword play, martial combat, and how to out-think someone. The struggles the giant had once faced as a student reflected on his teaching as he carefully chose the kids who had the roughest time the hardest to train. It was his burning passion to make sure the weakest links of the military were still strong as the steel walls that Sousuke had rose, and while they may not be the best shinobi in the village, they wouldn’t easily die to wanton bullshit either.
Which is why it was a pleasant surprise to hear his “Uncle”, call for his personal aid. Takahashi Sousuke, ever the man in keeping affairs from boiling over actually needed someone’s help with something. He was going out into parts of the desert unknown to the Toraono in search of one of the few legendary artifacts that still remained out of reach of common man’s hands. The stalwart sensei hadn’t even so much as heard of the Returner Stone or what it was capable of, but knew from his history lessons in school regarding the Cabal; they were not items meant to grace the palms of man. At first, Michino flat refused Sousuke’s offer. He was a busy man with obligations in the academy to be upheld, but, that was before Tama came swooping down the staircase like a bird cawing that he would happily take Michino’s place. Knowing that it was likely the mad scientist knew what the artifact was, or at least an idea, the Academy instructor narrowed a glare at the older brother and changed his mind. Two days later, and Michino set off with Sousuke on a merchant cart wearing a disguise.

Well, sort of, if you could call a seven-foot tall muscular Toraono covered in a desert robe “a disguise.” Yet he kept his face low and covered the missing leg that usually gave away his identity. About half-way through the journey on the back of the cart, it became more and more apparent that the once small kindled flame of his popularity had been blown out. At one point on the road, the sword master saw a man who he used to train under when Underground Boxing was his claim to fame. The two locked eyes, but never did a spark of recognition enter the other’s eyes, who turned away beneath the pressure of the Toraono Stare. The experience was humbling, but not without fortune, as it did secure the passage to the next location. Another hour later and Sousuke finally spoke, telling him suddenly how much longer they’d have before the next part. Michino nodded in agreement that Tama would have been a really poor choice indeed, and that he was glad Sousuke had happily accepted his nephew’s flippant choice; they both knew what the Hybrid was capable of.

“…but you know, I bet you both would of already arrived by now, had you taken Tama instead. No doubt he wouldn’t be fussed with traveling in such a benign style. I’d imagine he’d make some floating device that would have carried him above the clouds and over the land just to keep the sand from getting on his boots.” Michino responded lowly with a warm smile beneath his hood. The cart rolled over a rock, shaking the swordsman a little and forcing him to readjust the sword on his back hidden beneath the robe.

Uzu had been the overseer of Michino’s training as of late. Even as a teacher himself, the swordsman long realized from training students that he was going to need to keep his own game sharp and fresh in order to run with the genius trainees. More than once he had been shown up by a handful of the new generation of shinobi, but that was before he resumed tutelage beneath the harsh eye of an Uzumoreru. There were now more scars on his body than he ever had before from a mix of torture training and the old man showing Michino where his big openings were. The ANBU leader insisted that the swordsman give up the blade and return to unarmed martial arts, but, Michino couldn’t just simply let go of the weapon gifted to him by one of his clan’s mysterious gods. So, Uzu trained the swordsman to the brim with everything he could, sharpening the Toraono’s technique with a blade until he was, “at his limit”. Part of that learning was starting a fight with a weapon he wasn’t at his best with. The sword gifted to him held supernatural properties that gave him an edge in a fight against other things that were far more powerful than most mortals, however, Toushin pointed out that his reliance on the weapon gave him a glaring weakness. If he came across an opponent who was stronger than him, but only just so, displaying the gifted sword was ‘tipping his whole hand’. Now, Michino could use any bladed weapon like a master, and the sword that gave him power now strengthened his technique instead of just being a part of it. That being said, Michino was rusty at some of he finer shinobi skills like stealth, and hiding a sword was a chore even for a man of his size. Another bump in the road and the Toraono swore a little as he was jolted down onto a bottom sore from hours of riding.

“I do hope the rest of the journey is on foot, I am really getting tired of riding.”

 

[Takahashi Aki]

Conversation with Michino was far more civil than it could ever be when compared to conversation with Tama. At the very least Michino was never under threat of literally being thrown out of the household unlike Tama had been on a few occasions. There was something to be said about the image of one Ryuu Tama being hurled from the front door at the Takahashi household. Suffice to say after it had happened for the second time, there were a lot less confused looks coming from the neighbors. Sousuke looked to the floor as Michino spoke of how Tama would have solved the travel issue. The Steward shook his head. “The problem there is if it is not a cloudy day, then we would perhaps have a horde of barbarians following us … filled with anger or rage that he had blocked out the sun because he built a vehicle so massive. Let’s be honest, if Tama had unlimited resources, he would very much build a vehicle capable of blocking out the sun as it travelled in the sky. Eventually such a vessel has to land, and then there would be a welcoming party that would have to be dealt with.” Sousuke had mused to Michino. He shook his head a second time, “Remember that time when you guys showed up at the Gate with a little too much attention? Mako still references it from time to time. It brought her infinite amounts of joy to have Tama lined up with the laser pointers.”



The hours passed on like bumps in the road and eventually the caravan made it to the outpost. From there the two headed out into the desert this time on foot. The two travelled throughout the darkness of the night. Sousuke had conjured a plasma orb to light them through the darkness of night. Periodically he would stop through the night and stop for a moment. The Steward would scan their settings. It seemed liked he was expecting someone or something. No doubt that Michino would ask him what he was looking for to which he would answer “Something a sound mind should never wish to see.” Sousuke lived a lift full of terrible battles and those battles weighed heavily upon him. Suffice it to say Sousuke would not want Michino to live the life he had. The frightening truth that Sousuke did not want to admit to was whether he liked it not was that Michino was very much heading in that direction. The battle with his father and the aftermath of it was very much something in league with what Sousuke had to endure in his earlier years.



The two would make camp for a while and have a short rest. Again Sousuke would be on the lookout for something. “Outside of what happened with your father. Has anything else stuck with you? Your exam in Inferno? The battle at the wall? Any of it?”[/b] He would inquire of the Toraono Headmaster.

 

[Toraono Michino]

The Toraono smirked at Sousuke’s all-too-true assumption of what would happen if Tama had indeed built such a device. The natives of the Wind Country were very much under civilized, and the desert took no prisoners. It was partly why the Sunan military was so strong. They were a product of their harsh environment, and that was before you threw in the shinobi training. Not everyone, of course, was that sturdy. Michino himself was quite weak in his childhood, however, the desert and his willpower to stay alive in such a land did make him stronger.
“If Tama had those kind of resources, he’d have blown up Suna at least twice before making it to the flying part…and wouldn’t have bat an eye at the consequences either.” The swordsman sighed in thoughts regarding his brother. There was a lot on his chest revolving around the mad scientist, but before he could start a monologue, the cart stopped. Sousuke made a simple motion at Michino and he followed the metallic Steward without hesitation.

The wagon riders seemed sad to see the two shinobi go, and rightfully looked a little skittish. This part of the desert was not friendly by any means and night was fast approaching. As Michino stepped out of the wagon, he landed on two legs. One was fully fleshed out, and the other translucent. He had gained such a control over his own chakra through Toushin’s harsh tutelage that he could now simply form a leg out of pure energy, with the only downside being the soft light it gave off beneath his cloak. It was such a controlled thing it didn’t interrupt his chakra building, usage, or anything that would prevent it being there. He still had the ability to call his sister’s leg from the otherside as well, should he need its power, but as of late his training had forced him to grow more used to the way his chakra crafted limb, opposed to sharing a demon leg. Michino gave the traders a wave goodbye before following quickly behind Sousuke into the desert beyond.

Traveling by nightfall in the Wind Country was a death wish for almost all level of shinobi, including even Jounin. One had to be of a special breed of person, have demonic blood shooting through them, or have survived the worst that the desert had to offer. Giving the way Sousuke made stops every now and again to look around, Michino knew clearly which category Sousuke fell in. Being gifted by Youkai blood and a member of the Toraono Clan, there were few things that could still give him pause out here, but the lands they drifted into held the heavy air of uncertainty. After a moment, the swordsman did indeed ask what it was the Steward was keeping an eye out for in order to help, but the answer only saddled a worry. Michino knew that there were still things out here that he didn’t want to run across. Things that didn’t have a name, things that were known by legends only, and creatures that were famous for devouring humanoids in single bites that, though rare, still existed. When the sand became softer beneath his fleshy foot, the shinobi knew they were in heavily uncharted territory.

Time slipped past by in the hours, but the swordsman had a hard time keeping track from the star blocking cloud cover. When Sousuke called for a camp, Michino almost pleaded yes. They had been traveling for some time and the weariness of moving with such checked motions really drained him. It was his first mission in months outside the Academy, and Sousuke wasn’t playing around. Something had the normally super calm soul on edge.
As they settled down against a low cliff, Michino reached into his belt pack and withdrew a collapsible steel cup, some coffee grounds and a press made to fit the cup. He poured about half of the cup of water from his canteen before focusing chakra into the palm of his hand to heat up. Once it started boiling he tossed in a measured amount of grinds and put the press inside the cup to push the grounds to the bottom and let them seep into the hot water. It was about then that Sousuke asked him how much of his life stuck with him.

“All of it, Sousuke. While I admit that the Inferno was probably the easiest of my struggles, I still have nightmares of those eyes, just burrowing into my soul. The battle with my real father was rough, but, it was such a blur over the consequences that followed,” he gripped his left leg stump for a moment at the memory, “and then the Wall showed me how weak I still was despite having as much power as I did. Men and women far stronger with more impressive abilities overwhelmed the Horde, I but cut down a few. Though, if I have to be honest, the hardest of any of my life is, still my brother.
“He’s ever a constant thorn in my side. Having him as a neighbor was not my idea, and despite the fact that moving in with Uzu was miles better than living in Chiyo’s apartment…Tama almost makes it not worth it. Wild noises that drag me from my sleep weekly, his posturing, his, his…voice. The way he acts like he’s the Kami’s gift to us…I have no idea how we’re related Sousuke, I really don’t. We’re such night and day. If it wasn’t for my pointy ears, that is a Ryuu hereditary trait, and the fact that blood tests prove the relation, I’d call bullshit on him. We just couldn’t be more opposites…and I hate it. Because he is my brother. Tama is the only other member of the entire Ryuu bloodline, aside from my niece. Thank the gods for Otami though. I was really worried I’d eventually follow the same road of madness my brother struggles against until I met that little Wildling. Hyper, but brilliant. Hell of a cook too.”

The coffee was finished. He twisted the top of the press to reveal a little filtered spout that he drank right from instead of pouring into a smaller cup, as was normal. The burning bitter fluid warmed up his core from the freezing night air and the caffeine digested quickly in his trained stomach. Within moments the swordsman was already feeling perky and thoughts of sleep quickly faded. He looked up now at Sousuke who was still watching for something. Michino found himself, not for the first time, wishing he could offer the ghost-in-a-shell a sip of mortal comfort.

“So…what are we out here for exactly? Also, better question, just how dangerous of a situation are we really in? I’m not used to seeing you so…on edge.”

 

[Takahashi Aki]

Sousuke shook his head. There were some things he agreed with that Michino said, and there were some things he did not agree with. Sousuke stared into glowing orb of light he had produced. “The wall didn’t show your weakness. The Wall showed you your stubbornness to survive.” He paused for a moment. “You’re still here. That’s a testament to your stubborn nature.” The two spoke about Tama and how he was a constant thorn in the side of Michino, and how he could not stand him. It did make Sousuke wonder how the two were truly related. Michino weighed more on the Toraono side. “You’re more of a Toraono than a Ryuu. You’re certainly more honourable than Tama is.” He would admit, “I’m sure there’s some unwritten rule out there that the younger sibling is entitled to dislike the older one. I never did have a brother, so I cannot really comment upon the matter. I suppose Tama might have considered me to be an older brother or mentor at one point.” Curiously Sousuke sniffed the air. He smelled the coffee that Michino was drinking. “I do certainly miss coffee.” He mused out loud. The Steward was not eating or drink, but still he missed such things. It was the little things that mattered, and indeed this was one of them.



Michino inquired of their task and how dangerous things were. “We’re here to acquire an item called the Returner Stone. It is said to be able to grant a wish to someone worthy. The question is that what is the limitation to it, and if there is a cost. I know some people would want things to return as they were … certainly any supporter of the Daimyo would desire that.” He paused for a moment. “The landscape of the desert has been changing lately and not for the good of all. I’ve always been of the mind that if evil is unattended to it will grow. The boarders of Inferno are slowly growing, and even some foes I have vanquished … have a habit of returning from the grave.” He spoke lowly. The Steward sighed. “There was a dark terror I combated years ago. I’m afraid that like Shouki, it will return. Suffice it to say, I’m afraid it might even surpass me in strength. When I battled it, I struggled and even then he survived my ultimate technique at that time. My foe was a black humanoid mass of jibbering maws upon jabbering maws, speaking to me of my failures and how I was the reason for the death of the country. I split its skull asunder using a psionic attack, but even that was done out of desperation.” Sousuke spoke in almost a whisper. The two would continue to travel through the darkness. Before them they would see a singular stone tower. That is where their destination laid.

 

[Toraono Michino]

As it was dark, he doubt old Sousuke would see, but Michino had a grin on his face. It was good to hear his uncle agree with him and encourage his strengths when so much of his life had been focused on weakness. The las head of the Oushi-Ouja had seen to that, personally, and even after his older brother had somehow managed to get the man’s family to back his claim to the Toraono Throne…there was just always that air of mistrust. It was as if the old Lord of Thunder had an alternative plan to place his ward on the throne regardless. Of course, he died before anything could happen either ill or good on either side of the conflict for the Toraono Head, and Michino was still trying to wrap his head around the funeral. It was months ago, but it seemed like just a few days had passed since. Time was flowing in a very annoying fashion as he aged, and not for the first time he wondered how Tama managed to keep such a control over his own ticking clocks.

Sousuke’s explanation as to what they sought brought some small worry to Michino. He understood a little better now why it was him the Steward had picked for this mission and not his far stronger brother. Tama would literally kill someone for the chance to have such a thing. The swordsman didn’t even have to guess to what kind of wish the scientist would make either. The man would no doubt use it to return Sunagakure back under the sands, send himself with the country back into time and lock it in a bubble of temporal constraints so that no one ever aged and he could live out eternity as a teenager with Okibi; Tama’s personal heaven. As romantic as it sounded, the selfish act alone would probably not only destroy the entire Wind Country in the current timeline, it would no doubt eventually end too this existence; winking out all together. In a moment of rare selfishness, the Toraono tried to imagine what he’d use the stone for, and honestly couldn’t think of much. He could wish for peace, but that was just a monkey paw wish waiting to happen. Other than that…he couldn’t see changing anything about his life. Unlike his brother, Michino very much learned from his mistakes and how to make due with the cards Fate dealt him. As Sousuke finished voicing his final worry, the Toraono lifted himself from the stone wall and laid a large hand on his mentor’s shoulder,
“That’s why you have me, Lord Sousuke. Whatever horrors the desert may hold, they won’t be able to face the full might of the Toraono and Takahashi combined.”

The rest of the journey seemed far more simple than the first half. Perhaps Michino’s words stored a sort of extra courage into the Steward’s core, for the next half of desert walking was done with less caution. However, that didn’t mean it was a short trip. They still wondered for what seemed like hours, but finally the Toraono’s sharp eyes caught what they had searched for. His shot his eyes to cast over towards the Eastern horizon, and then up to the stars above to attempt a forecast of time. He guessed it was closer to 2, maybe 3 AM. The Toraono’s ghost leg fell short just behind the machina man he towered over, and craned his head up to try and see the top of the giant building they hunted.

“So…is this the place?”

 

[Takahashi Aki]

The two would enter the tower. The stone work was remarkable. The designs on the outside seemed simple and medieval, but the moment they entered the first floor they would see several aqua blue runes. The runes changed languages several times before they all translated to the common language. Sousuke ran his fingers along the side of the wall as he did so the runes again went through a series of languages. “Hmmm.” Sousuke would wait for a moment. The runes all then changed to a singular word. HELLO. The tower was greeting them. “I suppose a greeting is in order? Well then. Hello there.” He would answer. The tower began to feel slightly warmer for it despite the cold night. A click noise was heard as a spiral stair case would begin to descend the stone walls. It was remarkable really. The tower was a mixture of old and new. “Sorcery and stone work.” He remarked as the steps descended. He would move to the middle of the room so as not to standing in the way when the stairs descended. The runes on the wall would again change to a new phrase. PLEASE GO UP. Sousuke would look to Michino. “This tower is oddly communicative... but secondly it’s being cordial? Looks could be deceiving. I suppose the only way to go forward is to go up.” With that Sousuke would begin to ascend the spiraling staircase.

As the two walked the tower would continue to word phrases at them, maybe they were mottos, maybe they were creeds. THE AMBITION TO RISE ABOVE ALL OTHERS. The words would phase out and new words would appear, ONE MUST LOOK DEEP INTO THEMSELVES TO UNDERSTAND ALL OTHERS. The more and more they went up the more the words would change. I LOOK FORWARD TO MEETING YOU. The tower seemed to still be sentient and very much aware of their presence. They could not go unnoticed, and it seemed that the tower welcomed them. “If Tama were here, and he so much as smelled the arcane he would seek to dismantle the place for his own use. Although... I would have to say he would probably allow his curiosity to get the best of him as it is getting the best of me... that being said...” Sousuke would reach for his pistol to make sure it is on his person. The weapon was concealed but it was at the ready. “Be on your guard Michino. There are fouler things than Demons in the ... hidden places that this world has.” As the two climbed it felt like a small eternity upon them. The Steward would look up and then down only to realize that they had made little to no progress in their travels. The tower was toying with them.

 

[Toraono Michino]

The Toraono followed faithfully behind, but found himself surprised by the warmth that greeted him. His tense muscles gently relaxed and with a single hand, loosened the latches of his cloak to allow the hood to slip off his head. Michino was supporting full white dreadlocks, and a few new markings on his neck that were “Toraono Tribal”, symbols that produced the claim of his inheritance. Even if he was never able to fully ascend to the Throne, the fact that he was in line for it was important and printed proudly to be shown off; though, in all honesty he wasn’t a fan. It gave him away, which was unfitting a shinobi to start with, but also brought about an endless amount of Toraono youth who tried to take his place. What bothered him the most about this wasn’t the challenge itself, but the amount of division the old Storm Lord had sowed before dying. Suzume was looking like a more likely candidate than he was these days, but then again he hadn’t been gifted with experimental surgery via his brother’s hands. She potentially held far more raw power over him, but Michino came with the wisdom of a beaten dog. Either way, the other heir to the Toraono Throne was not one he looked forward to fighting, if the challenge ever came.

Following behind Sousuke, Michino looked and listen, trying to absorb everything that was happening and taking his mentor’s warning of caution. As they wondered looking up at the words realigning themselves, the Steward made a comment about Michino’s older half-brother. Without taking his eyes off the shifting runes he replied,
“…and we’d all probably be dead for it. Something about this tower tells me it shouldn’t be tampered with and that’s all Tama knows to do - stick his fingers in places fingers ought not to go.”

It was when they reached the staircase did the Toraono finally find a reason for pause. The tower was testing them. It of course only made sense that whatever the silver monolith held, it would not be easily accessed. Another warning from Sousuke about there being worse things than demons only stroked the fire of Michino’s worry. This was a place of intelligence and problem solving. He was a man of strength and iron will. The swordsman had no doubt that they would be only progressing at the speed of the Takahashi’s amazing mental fortitude. Indeed, once they reached the endless staircase that attempted to draw stamina from them, the Toraono looked at his extended family member and spoke,
“I…defer to you, Uncle. I could run these endless steps for probably a whole day, it does little to wear against my strength, but I cannot fathom any other way how to hoist our position,” he looked towards the top of the staircase, “I could, perhaps, leap to the top…”