The Soul of Iuchiban by Evan Dicken

Author:Evan Dicken [Dicken, Evan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Media Tie-In, Fantasy, Epic, Historical
ISBN: 9781839082306
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2023-09-04T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Seiji felt better than he had in weeks – physically, at least. The ancestors had freed him from hunger, exhaustion, and the pain of overtaxed muscles. He was stronger too; faster, tougher, crossing the broken foothills of the Twilight Mountains at a brisk jog, breath easy as if he strolled along a country road. The wind did not bite, the cold did not settle in his bones. Seiji’s hands seemed harder than the stone itself.

Time was without meaning, day and night little more than flickers on the edges of Seiji’s perception. Like some mountain oni from the old fables, he saw almost as well in the dark as he did in the light. It would have been unsettling had Seiji not known the gift was rooted in his own ancestors. Willing or not, he had become their emissary.

Their blade.

The bell remained in his thoughts. Far from the ever-consuming chime that had harrowed his mind, its sonorous toll seemed almost a part of Seiji, familiar as his heartbeat. While the chime yet warned Seiji of nearby dead, its purpose was different.

Memories not his own trickled through the cracks of Seiji’s thoughts. He had but to close his eyes to see images of ancient battlefields, armies riven by terrible sorcery, piles of burning dead. While he had not the understanding to make sense of the scenes, Seiji knew the cause.

Blood magic.

That was where the bell drew him. Toward the abomination sat at the heart of this twisted web. Seiji would find Iuchiban and face whatever it was. He knew that surely as he understood Lady Sun would rise in the east.

And it terrified him.

Seiji had tried to resist the call. Once, only once.

It had been the first night after the Temple of the Bell. He had come upon the ruins of an old Crab mining complex, the remains of a small fort warding the entrance. Seiji had walked amidst the partially fallen walls, one hand trailing across the wind-scoured stone as if to strike some spark of familiarity amidst his troubled thoughts.

Nothing came.

He understood the wall, could name every stone from foundation to cope. And yet something was missing. There was no joy in his knowledge, no buttress of interest to support his regard. Seiji knew the realization should fill him with sorrow, but the ancestors had planed away the undesirable parts of him like a carpenter smoothing a rough log.

He had halted then, sat amidst the fallen stones like some indigent vagabond, head down, hands around his knees as he rocked back and forth. Even this held no comfort. The ancestors had swept away Seiji’s self-deception as well. Even as he sought to resist their will, he could not but recognize his sorrow for what it was.

Petulant.

Shameful.

Who was Seiji to put himself above the needs of his family, his clan, his Empire?

It had been all he could do not to run from the fortification, the shades of its ancient builders like wolves at Seiji’s back. The bell had him now, and like the Crab, it would never let go.

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