Page 71 of Night of the Dragon

From the personal journal of the Moon Clan daimyo,

on the last day of summer.

They tell stories, nowadays, of a wandering fox. Most times it would appear as a humble peasant girl, but sometimes as a yokai with glowing golden eyes. You could meet her anywhere: on a bridge in the valley of Kin Heigen Toshi, in the deep forests of the Kage, on the highest peaks of the Dragon Spine. She has been encountered in caves, in tiny farming villages or walking alone on roads throughout the empire. Some stories say she is benevolent, that she travels the country looking for people to help. Other tales claim she is a force of mischief and mayhem, and will always appear when something unexpected is about to happen. But in most tales, either unwittingly, through seeming blind luck or in a baffling display of chaos, the fox ends up aiding those she encounters, and they are left confused but grateful when she departs, sometimes not even sure of what they saw.

But then one day, many years after her stories began to spread, the fox disappeared. No one noticed at first, and no one could guess the cause, though the common thought was she had just gotten bored, as fickle yokai were wont to do, and returned to the simpler life of a field fox. The wandering kitsune wasn’t seen in Iwagoto again, but her stories remained, and eventually passed into legend.

A few years after the wandering fox faded from Iwagoto, the daimyo of the Moon Clan left the world. It was said she went peacefully to her ancestors, surrounded by family and clan, her only daughter at her side. Those who knew the Tsuki daimyo in life remembered a beautiful but solemn woman who never smiled, but who in her final years seemed truly happy and at peace, passing the mantle of leadership on to her daughter. Her daughter, woefully unprepared, struggled at first, but she had the kami and her people to guide her, and eventually became a leader she hoped her mother would be proud of.

Today marks the one hundredth year since the Night of the Dragon. One hundred years since we stood against Genno, the demons of Jigoku and the ninetail who would become a god, if but for a moment. Today is a day of celebration, of remembrance, of honoring those who gave their lives to stop a madman from destroying the empire. Today, the entire Moon Clan celebrates, and the empire celebrates with us, but I cannot help but feel a bit melancholy. A century is a lifetime in mortal years, and those who stood with us that day have gone to their ancestors. But I am kitsune, and my father’s blood flows through my veins. A hundred years is the blink of an eye to a fox, and I remember that day as clearly as if it happened two nights past.

My friends. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy. I have not had the fortune to meet any of you again. Though I have searched the empire over hoping to see you, to catch a glimmer of recognition, it seems fate will have us meet when it is ready and not before. So be it. I truly believe we will all meet again someday, and when we do, it will be as if we never left. Though you might be shocked to learn your naive, reckless fox is now the daimyo of the entire Moon Clan. I have so many tales to tell you, my friends, but until our souls meet again, I will wait. I am kitsune, after all. I have time.

I put down my brush and stared at the paper a moment, watching the lines of ink dry on the page, before carefully closing the journal and returning it to the shelf above my desk.

A respectful tap sounded outside my door. “My lady?” came the voice of Hana, one of my ladies-in-waiting. “Yumeko-sama, it is almost time. Have you been made ready?”

I sighed. “Yes, Hana-san.” I stood, turning to the door. “Please come in. Stop lurking outside my door like a yurei. The last time Misako startled me, I nearly set the shoji on fire.”

The door slid back, revealing a young, pretty girl who bowed quickly and then stepped through the frame. “My lady, I have been sent to inform you your guests have started to arrive,” she said, her gaze scanning my outfit as she rose. As my clan colors dictated, I was dressed in a black kimono with a gray underrobe, and the silk was decorated with hundreds of swirling silver leaves. But if you looked hard enough, you might also see a few brightly colored leaves among the swirls of silver. Five in all, each representing a different soul. I found it fitting for today.

Hana smiled, and by the wistful look on her face, I assumed I appeared presentable. “Thank you, Hana,” I told the girl. “Now, stop worrying about me, and go enjoy yourself. No one is going to need their hair combed or their floors swept until tomorrow. I know Misako has already gone into town. Go join her, eat a mochi ball, fly a paper dragon. This is a day of celebration, and tonight we will honor the heroes of one hundred years ago. Do you have a lantern to float down the river?”

She bobbed her head. “Yes, Yumeko-sama! My great-great-grandfather was one of the ashigaru soldiers that stood against the demon horde. He died, sadly, but we’ve never forgotten his sacrifice.”

“Good.” I nodded. “Honor him tonight. Let him be remembered always. Now, go on.” I motioned to the hallway. “Have fun. I don’t want to see you back here until tomorrow morning.”

“Hai, Yumeko-sama!”

Hana bowed and scampered off, her sandaled feet slapping against the wooden floors as she hurried away. I smiled at her excitement, then turned to give myself a last glance in the mirror.

A kitsune with pointed ears and golden eyes stared back, making me nod in satisfaction. The envoys and representatives of the other clans were always surprised when they met me. Not by my fox nature, which few could see. They expected an older woman, a crone, one whose face was lined with years and experience. Not a girl who could be someone’s granddaughter. I refused to wear my hair up, hating the way the combs pinched and the hairsticks stabbed my scalp, and so my hair hung unbound to my waist. I did not look like a wise, revered ruler of the Moon Clan, and much like Lady Hanshou’s legacy, rumors were starting to circulate. For now, given the Tsuki’s isolation from the rest of the empire, they were just rumors, but eventually, it would become known that the daimyo of the aloof, eccentric Moon Clan wasn’t completely human.

I didn’t care. Let the empire know that the Tsuki family daimyo was a kitsune. It wouldn’t make any difference as to what I did, or my vow to keep my people, my family and the kami who lived here safe.

Turning from the mirror, I stepped to my desk and carefully picked up the paper lantern sitting on the corner. Unlike the round, red chochin lanterns that hung on strings and above doorways, this one was boxy and rectangular. Its thin paper walls were white instead of red, and on each side, a handful of names had been written in the blackest ink. The five names of those dearest to me, the souls I never wanted to forget.Hino Okame, Taiyo Daisuke, Reika, Suki.

Kage Tatsumi.

Kiyomi-sama’s name wasn’t on the paper lantern, though I had briefly considered adding her to the paper walls, as well. But this festival was to honor those who had fought and died on the Night of the Dragon, who gave their lives to save the empire. There were other celebrations that honored the departed. Every year, on the night of her death, I traveled alone to a certain grove in the forest of the kami. There, along with hundreds of kodama, spirits and sometimes, though very rarely, the Great Kirin, we would honor the memory of the Tsuki daimyo, and I would pray for her wisdom to continue guiding me down the right path. So far, she had never led me wrong, and I didn’t think she would mind if her name was absent from the paper lantern. Tonight was for other souls.

Satisfied, I left my chambers, and found Tsuki Akari waiting for me in the hall, along with a pair of armed samurai. My chief adviser and closest friend was a beautiful young woman with the intelligence of a sage and the wit of a monkey god. She looked like she could be my sister, and sometimes she acted like it, though I remembered when she had been a dirty-faced child running around the palace gardens. She didn’t really advise me on much, but Akari had informants everywhere and knew everything that went on inside the walls of the palace; I relied on her to tell me the things I needed to know.

“Yumeko-sama,” Akari said with a reverent bow and a less reverent smile that only I could see. My chief adviser was the epitome of charm and grace in public, which was also the only time she called me Yumeko-sama. “The sun is beginning to set. Everyone is waiting for the Moon Clan daimyo to send the first lantern down the river.”

I nodded and raised the lantern before me. “I’m ready. Let us go. But first...” I gave her a shrewd look. “Were you able to obtain what I asked for?”

She gave a despairing sigh and held up a stick with three brightly colored rice dumpling balls shoved halfway down the length, a popular festival snack. I grinned and plucked it from her fingers, as the guards pretended not to notice. “When you’re finished, Yumeko-sama,” Akari said, putting emphasis on the “sama,” as if to remind me that daimyo of great clans should not indulge in common festival sweets—at least, not in public... “Kage Haruko is in the main hall, and wishes to speak to you before the sending of the lanterns.”

“Oh?” I bit off one of the rice balls and motioned us down the hall with the rest of the stick. “Her health has been poorly lately, or so she said in the missive apologizing that she couldn’t be here tonight. I wonder why she changed her mind?”

“I’m sure you can ask her.”

We walked in silence through the palace until we came to the main hall, which was emptier than normal. Most everyone was either at the festival or on the banks of the numerous moats running through the city, paper lanterns in hand.

But a group of people waited for me as I stepped into the chamber, men and women in the distinctive black and purple of the Shadow Clan. The woman in the center, surrounded by nobles and samurai, was a distinguished older woman whose hair was threaded with silver, but who was still quite beautiful despite her years. She sat cross-legged on a cushion, her back straight and her eyes closed, but they opened as I stopped in front of her, and she looked me over with a sharp black gaze.

“Haruko-sama.” I nodded respectfully, and she returned it. “I will admit to being surprised to see you here. Your note said you were not well enough to travel.”

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