Jin III: The Master

“Go! Surround him! A voice cried.”

Armed men charged at the order. The passion for war filled their cries, mixing with heat in the air. Soldiers came together behind one another in a red-clad stampede, with swords and spears ready to meet their steel with the enemy. Some even mounted and rode on horses past their comrades on the battlefield.

“Look at them all,” a voice. Its voice was deep yet calm.

A figure stood upon a raised part of the land. His skin, grey of ash, melded in the shadows of approaching dark clouds overhead. Red-orange lines ran through the right half of his upper body like burning magma, and long, black, jagged hair reached only halfway down the back. His muscles stood pronounced, and firm like black stone took shape. His right eye gleamed with an orange light in the shade as he stared at the approaching army.

“So much red,” the figure said. “Running through the battlefield like blood.”

The figure fanned out his arm and opened his hands. A fiery light burned in his eye, and the markings on his body glowed. Lines of orange light enveloped his hands, and he clasped them with the first two fingers of each touching, and the thumbs raised straight up. The light flickered, sparks danced, sizzling with an eerie hiss, and erupted into flames swarming over his hands. The figure then placed his hands entirely together and brought his right. The flames compressed into a ball of fire, and he clutched into his hand.

He gripped the fireball with both hands and stretched into a line of fire. The flames molded and formed into a burning blade. It shimmered, cloaked in fire, as it illuminated the figure’s body. He grabbed the weapon’s handle and swung it down. The flames scattered into dying embers, revealing a long, double-edged silver blade. The weapon resembled a greatsword. Its blade rested, attached to a broad, red, fire-shaped cross guard with an orange gem in the center and a brown grip.

The figure took the sword with both hands and raised it over his head. A bright orange light with small waves of fire enveloped the blade, and the waves flashed into great flames, coating the sword. The figure faced the approaching army, and the fire around his sword raged into a blistering inferno. A line of red shone under the fire’s markings and stretched along the blade’s length. The line shifted into a string of characters unknown to human language.

The demon’s eye brightened as he said, “All submit to the purgatory of the dreaded flames!”

He gripped his sword tight and swung down with his demonic strength. His blade crashed into the ground, blasting the soil apart, and flames screeched into a straight line of fire. The flames burned a path of black ash toward the army.

The warriors rushed into battle but halted in their tracks. They peered at the flames, eyes lit in an amalgam of fear and the glimmering of their fast-approaching deaths. The fires crashed into them. The roaring of the flames filled the air, mixed with horrid screams. Once proud in their armor, men writhed in a searing sea of hell as the fire washed over them. Their black visages danced wildly before crackling and finally crumbling into ash.

The demon set his sword to his side. He looked down at the collection of burnt corpses and smoldering dust. He closed his eyes and sighed with a breath of fire.

“All submit to the purgatory of the dreaded flames.” The demon repeated and etched his sword into the ground.

The darkness of the clouds covered the burnt fields, melding with the parched black of the grass. They brushed together, and lightning flashed in between. More dark clouds gathered, and the lightning surged with arcs reaching greater numbers and force. The lightning crashed, scattering with a boom, and brought light to the charred fields below before dying in a faint glimmer.

The demon stood quiet; his blade still stabbed in the dirt as the storm above raged. The lightning crackled and surged through the clouds again. In the silence, a blue bolt shot from the sky and struck the ground with a thunderous crash.

Dust and burned soil scattered from the lightning’s wake behind the demon, who, while his hair, moved to the draft’s command. The harsh gales settled, but the cloud remained. A figure stood within the dust; his muscular stature silhouetted in the shade. An east wind rushed, and dust left in its dalliance.

The demon stepped forth, his armor, black with a shining blue edge, draped over the shoulders and chest of his greyish-blue body. He advanced toward the demon in front of him. Marking reached like veins throughout his arms and sides, with arcs jagged like lightning.

“Ryūō…” The figure breathed. A cloud of electric fog passed as his breath. “Kaen Ryūō of the Dragon Flame,” he said.

Ryūō’s eyes flexed at the mention of his name. He plucked his sword from the soil and turned to face the other demon. “Goro…” Ryūō said, “of the Dreaded Lightning.” He exchanged glances with Goro. A wave of fire cloaked his sword, and it vanished in a flash of scattering flames. “Why are you here?”

Goro placed his hands behind his back and said, “I felt your power throughout this range. I found you as I passed through the great bolts of the blue.” He stepped closer to Ryūō. “And then there is you. Why would a Higher Demon come to war with mere humans? Or were you quelling a need for slaughter?”

Ryūō’s brow knitted at his question. He turned around and returned his attention to his line of destruction and the ash-riddled fatalities that blackened the ground. “It was of their will to seek conflict with me,” Ryūō said. “I merely stood upon these fields, and the samurai saw me as another demon to slay. Perhaps it was out of fear for their lives or the thought of having a trophy that stirred their call to war. As you can see, I have honored their wishes. Ryūō relaxed his brown and settled with a sigh, arms crossing his chest. “Perhaps they would’ve been better off seeking another challenge instead of combat against force they didn’t understand. Then, they could’ve lived at the very least.”

A dark chuckle captured Ryūō’s attention, and he turned to Goro. “How very fitting of the creatures. Meeting their ends against the very powers they sought to challenge. Such folly.”

“Do not be so quick to underestimate them,” Ryūō said. “Although they are arrogant, there is a reason their kind has existed for this long, even against us. They chose to walk rather than crawl, to construct huts for themselves instead of living in caves, and to arm themselves and fight rather than accept death.”

“You believe them to be our equal?” Goro unclasped his hands and rested them on his sides.

Ryūō narrowed his gaze as he said, “I believe them to be resilient. There is power in simple determination. And whether demons admit it or not, humans possess it in abundance.”

Goro walked around Entei. His blue eyes set on his brethren. He stopped before him and looked toward the land of the army’s fall, scanning the destruction. “Yes. I suppose there is some truth to your words.” He narrowed his eyes as he continued. “Especially given recent events.” Goro looked back to Ryūō.

Ryūō’s focus centered on Goro in his last sentence. He stepped forward, curious as he said, “Such as?”

Goro turned around and placed his hands behind his back again. “Word has spread that Entei, the Master of the Flame, had placed himself in a predicament some time ago. Your student and Shimotora, the Claw of the Ice, had taken it upon themselves to search for the Eye of Genma.”

The mention of the two demons forced Ryūō’s mouth into a twisted sneer. “Hmph! Those fools. Do they honestly believe they’re worthy of the dragon’s power?”

“It seems they do,” Goro said and continued, “or rather, did.”

“‘Did?’” Ryūō questioned.

Goro stood silent momentarily but soon answered, “Do you recall the works of a certain swordsman, the demon slayer who travels with the Eye?”

“The one called Jin?”

“Yes,” Goro said. “To be brief, your student and Shimotora encountered the swordsman at a lone temple and met an unfortunate end.”

Ryūō’s expression hardened, brows drawing together. A dreary wind passed, and a corner of his mouth creased upward, revealing a fang among his sharp teeth. “They’re dead?”

Goro raised his hand to face and flexed his fingers. His digits curled slowly, almost closing into a fist before opening again. Blue arcs sparked against his fingers and danced over his palm before fading. “A tragic defeat for ones so proud,” he chuckled. “They had cornered the swordsman, even using their absolute strength. Of course, the swordsman was more ‘resilient,’ as you say, than they initially believed, and he used the Eye’s power to destroy them.”

“The dragon’s power…” Ryūō whispered.

“Indeed. I honestly didn’t believe that there was anyone who could best both Entei and Shimotora in combat.”

“Hmph!”  Ryūō scoffed. “So, a lone human delivered my student’s end. I’m not surprised. He and Shimotora were always arrogant fools.” Ryūō turned from Goro and held out his hand. It quickly glowed with an orange light that waved like a flame. The light flashed and warped into a flickering fire over his palm. “I taught Entei everything he knew about the sword and of the flame, but he thought he could go on only half of his lessons.”

    “And it didn’t help that he was always acquainted with Shimotora in their little hunts,” Goro added.

“If he and Entei fell to the human, it proves that they were beyond the aid of anything, including the Eye of Genma. They deserved their fates.”

Goro looked at Ryūō’s back and proceeded toward him but stopped a few feet away. “Then there is the matter of the one called Jin,” he said. “Humans aren’t known for being able to harness such power, let alone that of a Divine Dragon. And this human was able to do so and survived.”

“It is more than clear that the Eye is as invaluable as it is dangerous. Obtaining it from someone of such skill as the swordsman will not be an easy task. Especially if he was able to tap into the dragon’s power.”

The demons stood. Only the light rumbling of the dark clouds above challenged the silence. Goro looked around, eyes narrowed as though he were in. He then returned his attention to Entei.

“Then,” Goro started, “what is our next move?”

“For the moment, we wait,” Ryūō said. “The swordsman might’ve been able to wield Genma’s power once, but I doubt he’ll be able to do it again. Skilled or not, he is still human and can only hold that power until it destroys him.” He looked back to Goro as he continued, “Still, whether his power is limited or not, we don’t dare underestimate him. So, for the moment, we bide our time.”

“I suppose we should make any necessary preparations, then,” Goro said. “The swordsman hasn’t been seen for some time, but that is no reason for us to be sloppy, lest we share the fates of Entei and Shimotora.”

“Make no mistake,” Ryūō said, “we will have to deal with him at some point, and the Eye will be in our possession.”

A dark chuckle emerged from behind Goro’s mouth. He slowly raised a hand to the sky. Blue sparks crackled in violent arcs throughout his hands, and the clouds above rumbled with brief flashes of light. Similar sparks emerged in the clouds with a fierce, frantic surge, with more emerging by the second.

Below, Goro’s eyes flash with a blue light, and his sharp teeth join in a ragged smile within his maw. “In that case, I will take my leave, Ryūō,” he said. “I’m sure our paths will cross again.” He retained his grin as he continued. “However, should I encounter the swordman, do not hold it against me if I were to claim his head before you.”

In a blink, thunder boomed, and lightning flashed. A sporadic bolt surged violently out from the clouds and struck Goro below. Ryūō made no effort to shield him from the great radiance, and Goro vanished along with the great bolt. Smoke rose from the burnt patch left behind, adding little embers to the plumes.

Ryūō focused on where Goro stood. A smirk emerged, and he turned from the scorched patch. He made himself away from the parched battlefield that served as the army’s resting place. “That is… if you should survive to claim his head,” he said.

Ryūō walked far into the field, and dark clouds reigned overhead, covering him as he became lost in the distance.

*          *             *

Darkness. Darkness was the only thing present and nothing else.

“Jin,” a voice echoed in the void. It was a deep and raspy voice, yet calm and familiar.

A streak of light broke, and the darkness in two gave a view to light. The light shuddered, dimming slowly, and darkness overwhelmed it, returning everything to black. Seconds later, there was nothing, and everything became silent.

“Jin!” The voice called again, later than before. A faint groan emerged, and the darkness split into faint light again.

The light dimmed slightly, giving a view to a shade of dim brown above him. Darkness flickered as though eyes were straining vainly to remain open. The weight of darkness quickly grew, and everything shut into blackness with the silence returning.

Again. Nothing.

“Gather your wits, you fool!” The voice shouted.

The darkness split open and faded away. Above, light illuminated the ceiling as flickering spots on the wood. A hand reached out to shield from the light.

“I… By the gods… I’m alive?” Jin groaned in a whisper. He slowly rose from his back, his arm braced on the wooden floor support. He looked down, finding himself draped in a new blue tunic, with a blanket covering his lower body. “What? When did…”

Jin leaned slightly, and a sharp ache tore through his body. He cried out, gnashing his teeth with his eyes closed shut, and gripped an arm around his torso. Shuddering, his flickered open, and an exhale dimmed the pain.

“Finally awake, are you?” The deep, raspy voice said, much clearer than before.

Jin’s eye snapped open. Still holding his body, he saw a figure sitting before him. He scanned the figure’s broad form draped in a sleeveless tunic.

The figure sat in front of a small line of candles atop tall stands. The waving lights on the lengths of wax flickered throughout the man’s surroundings, reflecting off the gold linings of his white tunic.

The figure sat, legs crossed, next to a stone bowl. The man’s hands rested on his knees. “Kitetsu, The Shadow Slayer,” the man began, “Shimotora, The Claw of the Ice, and Entei, The Master of the Flame. Scourges on the battlefield, utter monsters to humans and demons alike.”

The man pressed his hands against his knees and rose by his legs. Jin’s gaze followed the man as he stood, looking up along the man’s hair reaching down to his upper back. “And yet, you’ve managed to defeat them when challenged.”

Jin’s brows snapped together. He tuned into the man’s tone, and his eye broadened. “That voice,” he whispered.
“Although you were always one of my best students,” the man continued. “But you always had that hard head working against you.”

The man slowly turned around and faced Jin. His golden eyes gleamed with a more incredible shine than the flames. His face bared the wrinkles of a man of wisdom befitting his advanced age, working in tandem with the silverish-white that colored his hair, mustache, and beard. And yet, the defined muscles of his body betray his age.

Jin leaned in close and squinted his eyes at the older man, slowly widening as they examined his appearance. Images soon flashed in his head of him avoiding bokken before being stuck in the head, meditating under rushing falls, and climbing towering stocks of bamboo in the setting Sun.

With a smirk growing on the man’s face at Jin’s reaction, he folded his broad arms around his chest. “It has been a while, hasn’t it, Jin?” he said.

Jin only blinked as he whispered, “Master… Augus.” Jin and Augus exchanged glances. Jin softened his expression at his teacher.

He slowly rose from under the blanket. As he did, his body ached again suddenly, and he hissed through his teeth. The throbbing surged throughout his torso, forcing Jin’s arm to hold himself.

Augus watched Jin writhe in pain and lowered his hand to the bowl below him. Taking the bowl in his hand, he handed Jin the bowl. “Drink this,” he said. “It’s medicine. And try not to move too much.”

Jin brought the bowl to his lips, drinking the clear, glowing liquid inside. As the mystic medicine flowed down his throat, his body became more relaxed, and the pain subsided. Sighing, he parted the bowl from his lips and set it down on the floor.

“Try not to move around too much. Your body still hasn’t fully recovered,” Augus said. He folded his arms and walked around to Jin’s left. “It’s honestly remarkable that you’re even alive. To think that you would be so reckless as to take in the Divine Dragon’s power. You could’ve destroyed yourself.”

“My options were limited, master.” Jin sighed. “I lost my sword, and facing them hand-to-hand was a fool’s game.”  He looked at his open palm and clenched it tight. “I didn’t even know the Eye could grant such power.”
“You lost your sword?!” Augus snapped.

Jin closed his eyes with his lips parting at another sigh. The rise of his master’s voice returned memories of endless scolding under his teachings. “Yes… I–”

A hand flew in a blur from nowhere, smacking Jin with a sound ‘thwack.” Jin shouted at the sting and gripped the back of his head. Huddled over, shuddering with the throbbing spreading with the reach of a spider’s leg, Jin gnashed his teeth with a sharp hiss.

“You damn fool!” Augus said. “Have you learned nothing from your training? Have I taught you nothing?” His eyes broadened at his pupil’s ignorance. They soon shut, and he breathed in through his nose before exhaling. His expression softened, and he returned his attention to Jin.

“Forgive me, master,” Jin breathed.

Augus lowered to Jin’s level and crossed his legs as he sat down. Master and student exchanged glances, and Augus only lowered his head as he chuckled. “You were always one of my best students, Jin. Skilled, focused, and intelligent. But you always had one weakness.”

“What is that, master?”

Augus placed a hand on Jin’s shoulder as he said, “You’re as lazy as they come.”

Jin’s eyes widened, stunned by his master’s words. “‘Lazy?’”

Augus took back his hand. “You were always a prodigal student, but you would always finish them halfway, believing raw talent would carry you.”

Jin scrunched his lip. “With all due respect, Master, what could I have missed? As you’ve taught me, I have honed my skills with the sword. I have studied and used your teachings on breathing and centering myself. I have even improved my stance–”

“Your ki.”

Jin blinked at the interruption. “My…?”

“Your ki,” repeated Augus. He saw blinked in his answer. “The breath of your life, the energy that dwells within you. Had you remembered how to harness it, you would’ve defeated Entei and Shimotora WITHOUT losing your sword!”

Jin sighed. The word of the human life force tapped his mind only slightly, sticking with only a mere faded thought. “Forgive me, master,” he said. “I’ve overestimated myself, thinking I was beyond your teachings.”

A chuckle from Augus returned Jin’s attention to him. “You needn’t worry. When you’ve fully recovered, I’ll humble you to a respectable level.”

“Master?”

Augus pressed his hands to his knees and rose to his feet. “News of your encounter with Entei and Shimotora is bound to reach the stronger and more hostile demons. They undoubtedly will come after you for either the Eye or prestige, and they will not fall as easily as the ones you have faced. If you are to stand a greater chance against them, you will need to refine your techniques… and learn how to harness your ki.”

Another sigh left Jin as he placed his hands on his lap. He looked at his master. “How long has it been since I was your student?”

“Well over two years,” Augus said. “Right before you came across the Eye. Am I ever going to hear the story as to why you’re traveling with it?” He made his way to the end of the room.

“I’m not sure I fully understand it myself,” Jin admits. “But I believe it to a… destiny.”

“Destiny? Is that so?” Augus said. He reached the end and placed a hand on the shoji, “Regardless, you will be under my teachings and will complete them during your time here. But, for the moment, rest. I’ll prepare a meal tonight; you’ll resume training within the week.”

Augus opened the shoji, revealing the outside cloaked in darkness. Only the Moon’s light granted a dim view of the sand and grass outside. Augus walked through the door and slid it closed.

Jin sat under his covers. He placed one hand over the other and looked at them in thought. “Hmph. Training under master again. I can already tell it will not be easy.”

• Ryū (竜) = Dragon and Ō (王) = King and Kaen Ryūō (火炎竜王) = Flame Dragon King

• Goro = Comes from the term “Gorogoro,” (ごろごろ) the Japanese onomatopoeia for the rumbling of thunder.

• Ki/Qi (気) = Energy / Life Energy

• Shoji (障子) = A door, window, or room divider used in traditional Japanese architecture, made with translucent sheets on a lattice frame.