Page 72 of Night of the Dragon

“I’m not.” The Kage daimyo held up a hand, and immediately the young samurai standing beside her offered his arm to help her to her feet. “I’m here,” the daimyo went on through gritted teeth as she stood, “because my thrice cursed grandson would not stop pestering me to make the journey, and since we came all this way, I thought I would pay my respects.” She gave me a tight smile. “You haven’t changed since I saw you...thirty years ago? Before the war with the Hino that took my son.” She shook her head, as if dissolving those memories. “My apologies, I am being a rude old lady. I don’t believe you have met my grandson?” She motioned to the man beside her, who gave me a solemn bow. “This is Kage Kousuke.”

“It is an honor to meet you, my lady,” Kousuke recited.

“I would introduce you to myothergrandson, the baka that convinced me to make this ridiculous journey, but he has apparently decided that greeting the Moon Clan daimyo in her own palace is not important and disappeared as soon as we reached the docks.” Kage Haruko made a hopeless gesture with both hands. “That boy. If he wasn’t such a skilled warrior, I would have sent him off to live with monks long ago. Maybe they could make sense of his dreams.”

I pricked my ears, about to ask what she meant, but from the open doors of the palace, a low murmur seemed to run through the entire city, hundreds of breaths being released at once. I turned and saw.

“The sun has set,” Akari said beside me in a soft voice. “Yumeko-sama, it is time.”

I nodded and bowed my head to the Shadow Clan ruler. “Forgive me, Haruko-sama,” I told her. “I must go.”

“Of course.”

Twilight had fallen over Shinsei Yaju as I walked down the steps of the Moon Clan Palace, the air cool and tinged with anticipation. It was a perfect evening. The sky was clear, the temperature mild and the breeze carried the faint, sweet smells of the festival: dango, yakitori, grilled octopus on a stick and more.

Dozens of people clustered along the water’s edge as I came to the arched bridge, then carefully made my way down to the riverbank. As I knelt at the edge of the water, I could see my reflection on the surface: a girl with pointed ears and golden eyes, who looked nearly the same as she had one hundred years ago when she fled the Silent Winds temple with a scroll that would change the world.

She wasn’t the same, though. She had grown up. She had loved and lost, found a family, discovered what was important. She had wandered the land, traveled to the corners and hidden places of the empire, only to find that home was where she had wanted to be all along. She had people who needed her, a whole island to protect. And, except for one tiny, nagging doubt, the smallest of holes in her heart, she was content.

The lantern in my palm glowed softly, illuminating the names written across the surface. I smiled and carefully lowered it into the water, then gave it a tiny push. The paper box bobbed on the ripples a moment, drifting lazily downstream, glowing brightly against the inky water, until the current caught it and pulled it smoothly into the center of the river.

Somewhere behind me, a drum began to sound, deep and booming. All up and down the riverbank, the crowds bent down, releasing their lanterns into the water. They floated into the river, spinning or drifting lazily, carrying the names of all the souls whose sacrifice allowed us to be here. I lost my own lantern in the flood of others, and soon the entire river glowed with soft orange light, reflected above and below like glimmering stars. I closed my eyes, sending up a prayer to the kami, and to the names drifting down the river, that they would never be forgotten.

And then, I felt eyes on me, an oddly familiar sensation, and raised my head.

Across the river of lights, a figure watched me, his eyes a brilliant purple in the hazy lantern glow. A young samurai dressed in black, with the crest of the Kage on one shoulder. He appeared to be a noble, and bore a striking resemblance to Kage Kousuke, the daimyo’s grandson, but was perhaps a few years younger. He stared at me, open wonder and amazement on his face, and for just a moment, it was like we were there again, on the cliff overlooking the valley, right before he whispered his promise and faded from my arms.

My heart began an erratic beat in my chest, and my eyes filled with tears. Somewhere deep inside, part of my soul leaped up in complete, unrestrained joy, dancing, cavorting, flitting wildly from side to side. It knew him, recognized him, just as he had said it would.

Across the river, bathed in light, the samurai smiled.

“I’ve finally found you.”

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