*SENKUMO WAR STORIES*
*BOOK OF BETRAYAL**meurtre**la démence*(It was my largest battle yet. 1489. It was fought in the vast and open countryside. All of the beauty associated with such a scene was blighted by the countless corpses that littered the grass and the screams of the hundreds of thousands who continued fighting each other there.)
(Shogun Ashikaga Yoshihisa, son of previous shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa. The baby that had been unexpectedly born and served as the trigger for the Onin War was all grown up, and lived a life on the battlefield. Outnumbered 10-1, the Senkumo clan met his army in that vast countryside, plenty of space for us to fight. We lacked in numbers, but we all thought a numerical advantage would be nullified by my furious, divine powers. After all, gods are immortal...)
*N O I R*(Aren't they?)
Kneeling in the middle of the corpse-riddled battlefield, wounded by several arrows stuck in her shoulders and arms through her armor, Tsukiakari struck her sword into the ground for a mere moment of rest in the midst of all the chaos. Thick, heavy clouds, smoke and embers filled the air as much as they filled her lungs with every breath. A fellow Senkumo member, a young boy no older than 15 laid wounded next to her. His leg and chest had been struck with several, well-placed arrows.
Boy: Commander, above!
Tsukiakari lifted her head and turned her eyes to the sky, instantly catching sight of in-flight boulders fired from the other side of the battlefield from Yoshihisa's trebuchets.)
Tsukiakari: Damn it!
Her treasured blade suddenly illuminated with a shade of lunar blue, and all of the corpses around her lifted into the sky as if God were rapturing their bodies away from the earth. An unbelievably wide and vast wall of corpses formed from every individual body, acting as a net that would slow down the boulders. The smell of death quite literally permeated in the air.
Though all seven boulders broke through the net of corpses, sending dozens of them raining back down to the ground with every impact as they came through, the wall greatly slowed down their speed and disrupted their trajectory. Each and every one of them fell many yards short of Tsukiakari's position as Yoshihisa and his troops looked on in awe. He cared not if he was truly fighting a god.
Commanding his troops on horseback, Yoshihisa rode through the lines and gave his brave and numerous soldiers the order to charge the retreating Senkumo troops.
Yoshihia: Do not fear their wicked powers! Heaven smiles upon US in this battle! Charge! Finish them off!
*WAR*The few that remained by Tsukiakari's side knew exactly what was going to happen to them.
Samurai: Commander! Your orders! The enemy is pressing the attack!
Tsukiakari: ...Stay here and buy time for the rest of them to prep their defenses!
Samurai: With honor, commander! Fall back while you can! We'll hold them!
The small line of Senkumo samurai tightened their formation and braced their souls for the glorious death that was befitting of a warrior. Tsukiakari clasped her hands, initiating her teleportation that brought her back several miles away from the enemy, where Mayumi and her troops rested and prepared to meet the enemy again.
Blessed be the colorful, fertile plains of crops and the wounded goddess that walked on top of them. Blessed be the soldiers reforming their line, some of them missing their eyes and fingers, badly wanting to make it through and go home, but ultimately accepting the possibility of death. Upon seeing her wounded friend, Mayumi rushed to her side and knelt beside her along with several other troops, all of them awaiting her orders to pass down to those below them in rank.
Mayumi: Commander, are you alright?! You're soaked in blood!
Tsukiakari: I'm fine, Mayumi.
She said with deep breath and slow words...
Tsukiakari: Right now...a few of our samurai units are holding off Yoshihisa's advance. It won't be long before they come rushing down here. The crops here can be used to our advantage. I'm going to burn them to smog the sky and the general area. I want our archers ready to ambush...
Tsukiakari realized something when she looked at all of their hopeless and pathetic faces.
Tsukiakari: ...What's wrong?
Soldier: Commander...
Mayumi: Tsukiakari...we...even with your powers, we are not equipped to take on Yoshihisa's army. M-maybe...we ought to rethink this...
Tsukiakari:...Have you all lost your courage? Is that what this is?
Mayumi: Tsukia-
Tsukiakari: COMMANDER, Mayumi! Of course we're outnumbered, we knew that much coming in! This is what Bishamon ordered of us!
Mayumi: Ever since Ebina, his orders have been more and more unreasonable! Just look at you! You're covered in blood and pale as a ghost!
Soldier: Please, we must not waste time fighting each other. I'll get the mounted archers ready to circle and shoot, Commander.
Tsukiakari: Excellent. Mayumi, you make sure the heavy infantry are ready to engage small clusters of enemies. I'll be partitioning their army into smaller parts with the flames. The flames will be intense enough to scare their horses and halt their cavalry as well.
Mayumi: Yes, Commander...
Tsukiakari stepped forth, flying back towards the direction of Yoshihisa's army with her powerful leap. The pieces of her fauld flapped around her as she landed hard in the middle of a field or swaying rice crops. Her aching legs wobbled and staggered as she tried to stand up straight, and it seemed like the more she tried to breathe, the less air her lungs were getting. She stayed kneeling on the ground, hidden among the crops and short of breath.
Tsukiakari: Come on...get up, Tsukiakari. Everyone needs you. They can't win without you.
(Mayumi saw it before I did. I was blindly following the orders of Bishamon like a proper lapdog. But war was my pleasure, my purpose as a deity. What was I supposed to do?)
Tsukiakari lifted the frontal piece of her fauld and felt herself through he pants.
Tsukiakari: My legs are bleeding, but I can't feel any burns that would indicate a wound. The adrenaline must be dulling the pain...
She unsheathed her blade and struck it deep into the ground with earth-piercing force. The sword flickered with a bright, orange glow like the flame of a candle before instantly being swallowed in a blaze that spread beneath the ground. The flames seemed to form a pattern as they burned crops in a peculiar grid formation. This formation worked exactly as she planned. It beautifully sectioned off unit from unit in Yoshihisa's incoming army, and even scared the horses from going any further.
Yoshihisa himself was trapped in his own flaming, smoking square with his bodyguard detail, bewitched by Tsukiakari's tricks. No matter how much he screamed and shouted, the crackle of the flames surrounding everyone overpowered him, and his army came to a complete standstill.
Yoshihisa: Damn her! Not even the horses will move!
Even louder than the flames came the thunder of circling horses as Senkumo mounted archers arrived and surrounded the grid of flames.
Yoshihisa: Damn it, we can't see them through the fire!
Archer: Circle and shoot! Don't stop moving!
Countless horses ran around and around the grid of flames as the archers fired merciless arrow after merciless arrow. Sectioned off from his troops, Yoshihisa was forced to listen to the deafening cry of screams of his troops as a swarm of arrows pierced their throats, chests, necks, and eyes, all while Tsukiakari watched with glee from the distance.
Tsukiakari: It's beautiful. Because they're all cluttered and divided into squares, it doesn't matter if our archers can't see their targets very well either. With the troops packed like that, they're sure to hit someone no matter where they aim. Now then...
The thunder and suffocating air of war circulated a tingle through her blood, giving her the energy to stand up straight again. Like she was ripping band-aids off, Tsukiakari fiercely pulled out all of the arrows that had pierced her fleshed with apparent ease and pleasure. In that clouded and flaming battlefield, a smile just as sinister as the veiled thunder in the heavens carved itself onto her beautiful, bloodied face.
*R O U G E*Tsukiakari: Here I come, Yoshihisa!
Bodyguard: Lord Yoshihisa! Above!
The young shogun set his eyes towards the heavens, witnessing the brief twinkle of Tsukiakari's blade as she came down from the sky like a thunderbolt. So forceful was her blade that both Yoshihisa and the very horse he rode on were split in horizontal halves. His bodyguard detail was violently blown away from the power of her impact, along with debris from the upturned soil and dirt it kicked up.
At her feet was a mess of the blood of Yoshihisa and his horse, as well as the exhibition of their intestines and internal organs. Though the horse was dead, Yoshihisa laid conscious as his dreary and wandering surveyed his split open stomach, and drifted off to see Tsukiakari's bloody and dirty face.
Even still, Yoshihisa felt around the burning grass for his sword.
Tsukiakari: You lost, Shogun. Bear witness to the almighty power of Bishamonten, the god of war!
Yoshihisa tried desperately to speak as his hands trembled, and the life shining in his eyes and skin died away into pale, cold nothingness.
Yoshihisa: Accursed....wench...y-y-you will rue t-this...this day...
Tsukiakari: You'd think a dying man would have classier dying words. What was I expecting of an Ashikaga?
Tsukiakari held her blade downwards, stabbing the tip into Yoshihisa's throat as slowly and painfully as possible. Something incredibly satisfying came out of being able to watch Yoshihisa's eyes helplessly circulate in pain, his eyebrows and the skin beneath them scrunch he felt every inch of the blade pierce his skin, tissue, and vocal chords. In just a few seconds, all of these signs of life and tension faded, and Tsukiakari's target was dead.
*GOD*(I've done it...I've killed him!)
The flames surrounding his troops blew out like the flame of a candle, filling the area with a thick, hazy cloud of smoke. It was just on time, as Mayumi and the heavy infantry finally made it to the battlefield.
Mayumi: Engage them head on while they're weakened!
The troops all chanted in unified obedience as the two sides clashed once again, the odds now evened by Tsukiakari.
(The bodyguards! I still have to take them out!)
A hellish throbbing in Tsukiakari's head brought her down to her knees in agonizing pain, in the worst possible moment. She was a sitting duck in the middle of all of the chaos of man and steel around her.
(You've got to be f*cking kidding me!!! Don't tell me I'm fatigued from using my powers! Not know! I can't do this right now!)
The heavy exhale of a man behind her alerted her to roll out of the way as a sword came down upon where she just was. The seven remaining elite samurai of Yoshihisa's bodyguard unit surrounded her on the battlefield, where she had foolishly gone in by herself, walled off from her own troops by the defensive lines of the enemy.
Bodyguard: You'll pay for what you've done in blood!
His heavy sword seemed to whistle through the air as it swiped down upon Tsukiakari again. Only holding her blade with one hand, she blocked and deflected his sword, using the brief time window she had to get up on her feet.
(I...I can't see a f*cking thing! Why is my vision going so blurry?!)
Bodyguard 2: DIE!
Before she even knew it, the second bodyguard cut her left arm clean off from behind. At first, she couldn't even feel a thing. But that was exactly the problem. When she tried to move her left hand, she realized there wasn't even an arm there for her to control anymore.
The mighty goddess screamed and stumbled away as blood spurted from her empty arm socket. The blade of the third bodyguard sliced through her side, cutting through what was mostly flesh and fat. Her intestines remained in place, mostly held together by her tightly fastened armor. The two blade of the fourth and fifth came down upon her with fury from both the left and the right. Tsukiakari miraculously held her blade firm in her other hand, raising it horizontally to block both of them.
*WAR*She forcefully and angrily summoned what little energy she could, channeling a brief blast of electricity through her sword. The thunderbolt ejected from the tip of her blade went right through the body of one of the bodyguards, killing him before his legs hit the ground. Again, the agony in her head intensified.
Tsukiakari: Damn you, lowly mortals!
(It's getting so much harder to breathe, and to hear...and to concentrate...)
Tsukiakari ducked, just barely dodging a sudden thrust from the third bodyguard. Her duck turned into a dance of spins and sidesteps as she desperately dodged and deflected the swords of the rest of the bodyguards that surrounded her. The clash of their blades rang the loudest on the battlefield, creating dazzling sparks with every impact.
However...a brief loss of balance in her agile footwork resulted in one of their swords going right through her back and exiting her stomach. Her feet scuttled repeatedly as she stumbled over, as if she was trying to keep herself upright. Regardless of her efforts, Tsukiakari was brought down to the burnt ground among the corpses and strewn about intestines from the horse she killed. Blood poured from her mouth as she somewhat propped herself up with her elbow.
*DEATH*(What? No...this can't be it. I'm a goddess. We divine beings cannot die...can't we?)
Bodyguard: Return to whatever circle of hell you came from, witch!
Seeing her final moments through a crack in the Ashikaga lines, Mayumi saw with her own eyes the near-defeated state of her best friend.
Mayumi: TSUKIAKARI! GET UP!
Finally, the killing blow. Three of the remaining bodyguards stabbed their blades through her chest at the same time. That moment was so chilling and precise for Tsukiakari that you one could cut a butterfly's wings with it. It was like everything slowed down for just a minute, and all the colors of the world were painted black and white. The sounds of war faded out, and as if she was locked away in a solitary cell, Tsukiakari could only hear her own thoughts.
(I'm...going to die?)
(What else could this feeling be? This must be death...ahhh, I must be right. I have to be right. Was it this calm for Ebina too? I can only hope so...)
Mayumi's cries from the distance were vanquished. In death, even for a goddess, all earthly burdens were stripped of the soul. The body, the emotions, the physical pain, the lingering thoughts and guilt, all of it was gone.
Death was darkness. Death was peace. Death was nothingness. Death was divine. Death was blessed. Death was freedom. Death was the end of all suffering. The end of all feeling.
Death was stillness.
Death was silence.
Death was comfort.
Death was love.And just like that, spell of death was broken.
*N O I R*
Awakening with a resurrected gasp of life, Tsukiakari jolted off of her back and sat up in her futon, drenched in sweat with strands of hair stuck to her forehead. Her eyes were wide with shock and her hands trembled as if she had seen and absorbed all of the knowledge in the universe.
Tsukiakari: Wh...what...
She slowly turned her head and realized she was inside Bishamon's sacred room in the main Senkumo mansion, far away from the battlefield. Her armor was gone, for she was comfortably dressed in the standard black Senkumo kimono. Her hands trembled, and her mind ate itself inside out trying to figure out why any of this was happening.
Bishamon: Good morning.
Bishamon came in through the sliding door an sat besides the confused and shocked Tsukiakari, who looked like she had just woken up from a life-changing nightmare.
Tsukiakari: Bisha...Bishamon...what happened?! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!
Bishamon: Shhh. Calm down, Tsukiakari. Listen carefully.
Bishamon stared her straight in her eyes as he spoke.
Bishamon: You died.
Tsukiakari:...Then...why...
Bishamon: Do you remember what I told you around the time you were ready to deploy to Kyoto during the Onin War? There is a reason I had you operate in my name when you answered prayers. It's beneficial to the both of us. The name "Bishamon" belongs to me, but the prayers are directed towards you. While I receive the increasing volume of worship from the mortals, you receive something of your own. Because these prayers are all directed to you, you can use them as grounds for reincarnation, which is exactly what you just did. You have died and come back to life through reincarnation.
Tsukiakari: I...reincarnated?
Bishamon: Ultimately, it is Izanami and the Shinigami who allow us gods to reincarnate. You should be just as thankful to her as you should be to me.
Tsukiakari: Ah! Mayumi!
Bishamon: She was wounded in the battle, but she's okay. She's at your mansion healing nicely. Unfortunately, many Senkumo souls were lost in the battle. Roughly 12,000 casualties. However, the intended target is dead, and most of his army was weakened and forced to rout at the end of the fight.
With that, Tsukiakari was able to calm her nerves, but her shock was replaced by a vast curiosity. The very concept of reincarnation sent her mind running in circles trying to understand and comprehend it as Bishamon poured himself some tear from his kettle.
Bishamon: Would you like some? You must be thirsty.
Tsukiakari:...Yes please.
(What a contrast...it felt like only a moment ago, my nose was filled with the fouls stench of my own blood, and the reek of cadavers scattered about the earth. But now, I'm in a warm place, and all I can smell are tatami mats, incense, and mint...)
Tsukiakari: If I die again...will I reincarnate just like this?
Bishamon: That's not a very easy question. You see, you may not notice right now, but your body is slightly younger than the one you died in. Die too much, and you'll probably revert back to the little girl you were. Not every reincarnation is the same, so you must be careful not to throw your own life away.
Tsukiakari: I see...and Izanami...where can I go to thank her?
Bishamon: Her shrine, of course. She's always there, and even if she isn't, she'll appear if you call upon her.
(Come to think of it...I've never actually met Izanami, have I? I've never seen her in Heaven, but her name was always widely mentioned among the gods and servants there.)
Bishamon: Are you thinking about going there? You've reincarnated, but you'll need time to let your body come back to full strength. You've been out for about a week, after all.
Tsukiakari: That long, huh? No, I'll go there. I should thank her properly. If she allowed me to reincarnate, she must know that I'm a goddess. There's a good chance she knows I'm Amaterasu's daughter, the shameful little minx that abandoned her home. And yet, she still did me this favor. She deserves my gratitude.
Bishamon: Very well then.
*REINCARNATION*Tsukiakari's limbs felt like noodles as she stood up, using her sheathed blade as a cane to help her maintain her balance. Walking was comfortable enough, but it definitely seemed that rest would be a requirement before she could set foot on the battlefield again. She slipped on her sandals and silently walked past Bishamon as he enjoyed his tea. The clouds parted, and sunlight was free to shine on the land and pour through the windows of Bishamon's sacred room.
Bishamon: Tsukiakari.
Tsukiakari: Yes?
Bishamon: Reincarnation is a gift rewarded to our Shinto pantheon when we merged with Buddhists. As such, it has made us quite a powerful pantheon on the global stage. However, our ability to reincarnate depends greatly on the amount of worship we gods receive, as well as our standing with Heaven and Izanami. Do not take your time recovering. Do it quickly and return to the battlefield. Cut down more weeds and make our garden beautiful again. And though you're shunned from Heaven's light, make sure you stay on Izanami's good side. Should you offend her, she can easily reject your reincarnation, no matter how many prayers you collect.
Tsukiakari...I understand.
Bishamon: That is all. Get well, Tsukiakari.
(Don't get too comfortable. Don't grow too careless. That's what he was saying to me. The battlefield was my lifeline, and answering the prayers of those who wished to see their enemies destroyed was my lifeblood. If I wanted to live, I had to fight. If I wanted to fight, I had to live.)
Dazed by what she perceived to be an All too sudden change of scenery, Tsukiakari opened the sliding door leading outside to the breezy courtyard, the cool air filled with the whistle of the wind brushing through the vibrant, gleaming leaves of the trees and bushes that adorned the courtyard. The sweetness of blooming flowers and the earthiness of freshly watered soil calmed her frenzied nerves even more. The cherry blossoms were in good health, attracting a peculiar band of colorful sparrows to make the trees their home. Wonderously towering clouds were pushed far into the distance of the bright, blue sky, sparing the area of a rainstorm. These beautiful blessings of nature enraptured the war goddess, but her daydreaming within the peaceful embrace of nature came to an abrupt end.
Soldier: My lord! You’re awake!
She found herself approached by two of her swordsmen, both of them wearing their black Senkumo clan robes as they knelt before her in front of the Sakura tree. The one speaking to her was an aged man, his face worn by time and decorated by pronounced wrinkles. His voice was deep and grizzly, partly due to the scar across his throat indicating it had been slashed before.
Tsukiakari: What do you need?
Soldier: Please come to the storage building, my lord. There’s a lot of them we need to sort out, but we aren’t able to establish some of their identities. We require your help in the matter.
Tsukiakari’s widened eyes reflected confusion.
Tsukiakari: Sort out? What do you mean?
Soldier: The casualties, my lord.
And so, Tsukiakari was led to the large storage pagoda in the corner of the base, situated on an elevated hill overlooking the rest of the area. As the swordsmen opened the door for her, the peaceful sounds of her their surroundings all seemed to go mute with a deathly silence. The three stepped inside, the two swordsmen bowing their heads to their lord as she cautiously marched forth, her bones chilled by the miserable sight before her. Rays of heavenly, golden sunlight shined like spotlights through the clerestory windows, illuminating the rows upon rows of corpses laid out on the wooden floor, all of them covered by ghostly, white cloaks. About a dozen men were in charge of processing the identities of the deceased that returned home after every battle. Tsukiakari’s last fight was no different. The handlers always wore black kimonos and black cotton gloves, covering their faces with a sash of cloth to act as s shield between them and the stench of the dead.
Tsukiakari’s feet were anchored to the ground by an overbearing weight, an invisible force that could even bring shame to a god. A terrible emotion found itself locked at the bottom of her merciless heart as she watched several of her young soldiers, boys and girls, weep and sob over the cloaked corpses of their beloved comrades, killed by their lord’s avaricious hunger for victory.
Tsukiakari: These corpses...they’re from the battle with the shogun?
Soldier: Yes, lord. We’ve already processed most of the deceased, so this is all we have left. Our medical team has been working closely with Superintendent Taeko to get them processed and buried quickly.
A lump nested itself in Tsukiakari’s sore throat, making it hard to swallow. She mustered up the bravery to step forth, the thump of her sheathed blade echoing more loudly than her footsteps. The sobbing, young Senkumo warriors all stood up like frightened cats, bowing to their lordas she stepped through the aisles of bodies. Their pale, dirty hands stuck out from beneath their cloaks, their nails blackened with dirt and dried blood. The young girls and boys couldn’t cease their cries as they dutifully saluted their lord. None of them could’ve been older than 15.
Girl: L-Lord Tsukiakari! Thank you! W-we will live and die by your command, just as they did!
All of them bowed to the speechless war goddess, unable to even get a word in as they marched out of the building, crying and holding onto each other along the way. Without much time to even think, she was then confronted by one of the medical examiners, who bowed to his lord like all the rest before explaining the situation further. Even more dejected and dazed warriors of varying age and experience sat in a line against the left wall, silently mourning their comrades.
Examiner: Lord Tsukiakari, can you identify some of these bodies for us? We’re just missing a few names here, but we’ll be done with the death list soon. Superintendent Taeko will handle the revised troop roster, and she’ll forward that information to Chief Treasurer Mayumi. To...correct the budget, of course. Taeko told me to tell you not to worry about administrative aftermath. She has it all taken care of.
The calm and pragmatic language of the medical examiner was almost frightening to her, but she could expect no less of someone exposed to such a line of work day in and day out.
Taeko: Show them to me...
Examiner: Right this way.
The examiner led her down the aisle to the fourth body in the second row, kneeling down by the corpse and pinching a part of the cloth.
Tsukiakari: Wait. I’ll unveil them
The examiner, surprised, silently stepped aside, letting Tsukiakari do the work. She lifted the cloak to reveal the face, a gentle gust of some strange emotion bellowing in her heart.
Examiner: Young man, early 20’s, he-
Tsukiakari: Matou Senkumo. This is him. He has three small skin tags on his neck that form a triangle, and a birthmark just below his hairline.
(Live and die by my orders...)
Examiner: Alright. If you’re certain, let’s movd onto the next one.
The next body over was a young girl, most likely killed at a Senkumo camp before the battle commenced. Tsukiakari unveiled her face slightly, but to the examiner's shock, she quickly covered it back up. She shut her eyes tightly and refused to look any longer, despite only catching a quick glimpse.
Examiner: My lord? My lord, are you alright?
Tsukiakari's chest rose and fell beneath her robes as he breath grew heavier.
Tsukiakari: I'm sorry...
Examiner: My lord, we must identify these bodies. Please...
Tsukiakari: You're right. You're right.
Tsukiakari breathed deep and unveiled the face of the girl once more. Her hair was brown like the autumn soil and her nose was very petite. A streak of dried blood from her nose led all the way across her ghostly pale cheek, almost reaching her ear. Upon noticing her missing left arm and blindfolded eyes, she came to the terrible realization of who the girl was. There was a long silence before her assessment.
Tsukiakari: ...This is Inori Senkumo. Seventeen years old. Everyone adored her for her cuteness. She has the nose of a baby, you see. In the wintertime, she’d ask me for tea to help her get over her cold. She’d say “Gekko, they’re teasing me about the sounds of my sneezes again!”, because she also sounded like a baby when she sneezed. I don’t ususlly let people call me Gekko, but I couldn’t find a reason to be so stiff and imposing that winter. I wanted to form a different kind of bond with her, with my troops. So I...let her call me by my nickname. Silly girl...they weren’t teasing you. They adored you...
Tsukiakari shut her eyes and covered up her body, as if to seal away a terrible nightmare. Her senseless orders and poor choices killed the young girl who loved her more than anyone.
Examiner: My lord...I apologize, but...we only need the names.
Opening her eyes again to the cold, deathly reality before her, Tsukiakari composed her shivering voice, the wind in her heart growing stronger still.
Tsukiakari: Of course. Show me the rest.
(It felt like I was in there for hours, my memories of them at war with my heart. But I knew all too well what I was feeling inside, the emotion that made me shiver and wish there had been a different outcome. Perhaps you know it too? Perhaps you’ve felt it yourself.)
After identifying all of the unknown bodies, the medical team prepared their scrolls for delivery as a second team prepared to load the bodies on wheelbarrows waiting for them outside. A tint of soft red blessed the sunlight sneaking in through the clerestory windows, several beams of it shining directly on the cloaks of several corpses. The indirect light bounced off of the cloaks and surrounding wood, warming the bodies around them in a veil of reddish orange. Before the second team could carry out the first row of bodies, however...
Tsukiakari: Wait.
Examiner: My lord?
Tsukiakari looked around her, hesitating before giving an answer.
Tsukiakari: Give me a few minutes. Please.
Standing in one of the spotlights of the setting sun, the war goddess wore the reddish-orange veil of light for herself, hanging her head in shame. Her elongated shadow looked over the corpses behind her.
Examiner: As you wish, Lord. Let’s go, boys.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=oYvw7jm-lswEveryone vacated the room, leaving Tsukiakari all by herself in heavy silence with the dozens of cloaked corpses. There she was, standing in the middle of it all, thinking and saying nothing, but feeling everything. Their last moments of pain, their final thoughts, their memories of their friends at the Senkumo base, their wishes and dreams but short because of their lord’s impatience.
Tsukiakari: You were...some of the finest soldiers in this country. But to each other, you were even finer friends.
So many more words failed to scale her trembling lips, failing to get passed her sore and blocked throat. She continued on, marching towards the exit with an aching pain in her heart. Again, the thump of her sheathed blade echoed louder than her footsteps. But as she got to the door, she could sense a chilling presence behind her, forcing the delicate hairs on her arms to stand on edge. Cautious and terrified, she refused to turn around, feeling as if the corpses behind her were moving. When it was just too much to bear, she slowly turned to face them again, swearing for just a moment that she saw them all sit up in unison, their cloaks still covering their faces.
Alas, her split second illusion died away, and the corpses remained still. And yet, another illusion took its place. Or perhaps it was no illusion at all. A magnificent, jeweled throne sat down the aisle of bodies, gleaming in a ray of sunlight.
(Guilt. My guilt. Your guilt. Our...guilt.)
Illusion or not, Tsukiakari accepted her place on that throne, walking down the aisle of death as of it were her turn to share a eulogy for the deceased. The echoes of her sheath and footsteps were far too maddening. Standing before the throne, she gently slid her finger across the golden, gleaming arm rest, her eyes fixated and the seat itself. She slowly turned and let herself down on the throne, her entire body afflicted with throbbing pain. She sat all the way back, resting her back against the rest made of the blades of the fallen, their handles pointed toward the Heaven.
From her righteous throne, she had the perfect view of her deceased comrades, all of them as still as the mountains. The face of the war goddess churned and shifted as she battled her tears, but such a battle was futile. They forced their way out, bringing out her sharp, vulnerable cries along with them. All the while, she hung her head in agony, as if she were ready to accept her crown of guilt. Her cries turned into dreams of anger and buried sorrow as she hit her fists against her head, striking herself over and over for getting her comrades killed.
Tsukiakari: Forgive me! Oh god, please forgive me!
Such an unfair and cruel fate. After every death, she would rise again to witness the aftermath of her decisions, forced to endure and regret for as long as she lived. The monarch of the kingdom built with the stones of the dead, sitting in a throne that bore its weight upon her instead of the other way around.
Her aching heart was ripe for betrayal.