windlion

All right, all right. Now I know what I'm doing, it's time for some fic bits.

Maybe he was superstitious, but he had never had any trouble believing in the legends of the kami. His father had been brief on the subject, terse but respectful. It was his mother that passed on the lore, that had dutifully led him to make offerings at the shrines. When they were both destroyed by the enemy, it seemed natural for Yoru to follow through with the shintoist rights.

It was this readiness to believe, maybe, to accept that which he was shown and proven as true, that led to his own acceptance in the Seijyaku. He was a shadow spinner- weak, maybe, but there was a charm to his shadow that few even in the shinobi ranks could claim. That was what had led Sylang to accept him, the youth with a soul of fire and a too dark shadow, to train him in the shinobi ways over the graves of his family, and to accept him in when that vengeance had spent itself in blood and left him older, more levelheaded, and possibly wiser.

At the ripe age of twenty, the boy was a young man, a trustworthy shinobi of no little skill, and was readily pledged in the service of but one of the lords who called on the Seijyaku rather than raise their own brand of spies and assassins. The man was not without influence, in either wealth or power, and if he lacked charisma, he made up for it with a respectable character. Yoru served him happily. There was work enough to be done, thwarting the laughable attempts of other lords to obtain knowledge or control and striking back in turn- no one dared try to kill his lord, and though that suited Yoru most of the time, sometimes he craved the thrill of battle.

That was where he had been for five years without change. In the meantime, he had known several fellow warriors, made friends, met several men and women who came and left his bed, and he had always moved on alone. With the years, too, came an increase in his lord’s power, which came unsurprisingly accompanied by enemies. Yoru’s work became steadily more interesting. Sylang had commented once that Yoru seemed to be waiting for something, and laughing, Yoru had replied he wanted nothing.

Later, however, the comment echoed in his head as striking too close to the truth. There was something missing, but for the life of him, he had no idea what.

He met it one day in summer.

The lord had been holding court as it was with his advisors, out in the warmth of the sun besides the koi ponds, when the attack came. Yoru had but a moments warning, a thrill along his spine that usually signaled trouble. He drew a set of shuriken blades, then waited silent and still until he could spot what had set him off without giving away his hidden position above. A sidelong glance confirmed that his fellow shinobi had noticed it as well- with kunai in hand, Himitsu edged closer to their lord protectively, unnoticed by even the advisors at his elbow.

When it came, the attack was not subtle, and rather surprised Yoru with its bluntness. A wave of arms men burst from the trees, maybe a score of ronin, wielding swords at the ready and clearly expecting to take their enemy by surprise. The senses he had come to trust warned of a shadow threat, the presence of another with the skill- the attack should have had the delicacy of a scalpel, not the crude hammer blow of arms men.

Still, there was little he wasn’t ready to handle. Even as the lord’s guards took up the cry and drew arms to defend the lord, a handful of attackers at the front line collapsed under the onslaught of blades unleashed from the pair of ninjas. Yoru grinned to himself.

/Twenty? They underestimate us, and badly./

Seeing the guards surrounded, Yoru checked with a quick whistle to see that Himitsu had their lord covered, then he joined the fray in the flesh. Darting to and fro, he was in his element, making sure the arms men never knew what hit them. Too soon, it was over, Himitsu signaling the all clear as Yoru crouched to verify that they were all very, very dead.

Ignoring the exclamations of the advisors, and the wary tiptoeing of the guards made suddenly all too aware of the skill of their lord’s extra protectors, Yoru looked up at Himitsu, scowling behind his mask. He crouched next to a body, calling softly to her in the language of the Seijyaku shinobi, "{Was it me, or was that far too easy?}"

"{They were weak,}" she offered, staying cautiously at the side of their charge, but her eyes narrowed with thought.

"{It was more than that.}" Yoru paused, suspicions confirmed as he finally spotted something anomalous. He pulled a dart from the neck of one victim, frowning at the strange fletching and powder still visible on the metal point. Darts weren’t part of the Seijyaku’s usual repertoire. "{I think we had help. At least one. And I think they’re still here.}"

Himitsu didn’t react visibly, offering no silent cues to any listeners as to the content of their conversation. "{I do feel we are being watched. Hostile?}"

"{Don’t know why they’d help us just to kill us.}" Yoru shrugged easily, sidling back to deposit the dart in her hands.

She turned it over, no doubt seeing more detail there than he did, frowning. "{I’ll keep that in mind.}"

He turned his back on her, hearing her aggravated sigh of exasperation, as he narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t his imagination- there was something there that played merry havoc on his senses. There- in the grove of trees, he thought he saw something- a shadow within a shadow, mayhap.

He glanced back at Himitsu. "{There. In the grove. Do you see it?}"

She grimaced. "{No, but I know enough to trust your eyes.}" Resigned, she turned to their lord, bowing politely. "My lord. . . I am afraid we have unexpected company."

Their lord smiled wryly, not particularly taken aback by the bodies littering his land. "I doubt the last set of guests was expected, either. Who now?"

"One who would be your ally."

The voice sounded odd, carrying from everywhere and nowhere in particular, accented in a strange but not unpleasant way. Yoru watched with surprise and no little awe as the shadow within the grove detached, seeming to give form to nothingness. If this person used shadow magic, it was on a level none of the shinobi could match.

Watching this figure, Yoru wondered if he was the only one to see it hesitate but a fraction of a second, before stepping forward into the light. Despite the illumination, the stranger remained as pitch dark as the shadows from which it emerged, from head to toe clad in black. The uniform was ambiguous and uninformative, a strange cut which hid all the skin while allowing the maximum range of motion. As their uninvited guest closed, he could see that a featureless ebony mask covered the face. All that was visible of its dubious identity was an impressive mane of thick black curls falling to its knees- and possibly the glint of eyes behind the mask.

Himitsu drew a kunai, more in warning than anything else, and the stranger stopped where it stood, perhaps a dozen paces from the watchful eyes of their lord.

The shadow walker stopped, and unexpectedly, bowed deeply before sliding into a respectful position on one knee, gloved hands kept carefully open and visible. "I have come to the Lord Reika as a messenger of peace from the Empire of the Elves."

Yoru’s eyes widened involuntarily, and he found himself gawking at the messenger along with everyone else in the yard. /An elf?! A spirit. . . That would explain the magic, I guess, but. . ./

The lord spoke for them all as he frowned. "Your words raise more questions than they answer. Who are you? Why are you here?"

The messenger kept its head bowed, and Yoru for one found himself listening to the cadence of the words, attempting to divulge a gender or easier label from the smooth voice. "I am of no import to you but in my capacity as a messenger and representative of the elven race, Lord Reika. I am here because our enemies are in Kyoto, where they are promising Edo to yours even now. We would not have their alliance succeed."

"It is an old tactic, true." Lord Reika frowned. "What do you promise us?"

"We make no promises such as theirs, for human politics are not our own to interfere with, but we will prevent our enemy from aiding yours, and would have you return the favor, Lord Reika."
"You are straightforward enough." The lord scowled at the messenger. "But I do not trust the word of those who hide their faces."

Yoru winced. /Oh, great. Now we’re back to that./ Their lord had accepted the aid of the shinobi, after years of being convinced of their necessity, and grown used to his protectors- but still balked at what they found necessary. This messenger, masked and strange as. . . /he, she? Damn, but that elf is harder to identify than Himitsu at her worst./ well, /it/ was, had a fair amount of prejudice to wade through before the Lord would accept the offer.

The messenger inclined its head in acknowledgment. "I understand your position, Lord Reika. However, only my masters and the dead may see my face, and if you are not among the former, you should not hope to be among the latter."

Yoru waited for Himitsu to skewer the elf for its impertinence, and goggled when she merely nodded instead- one professional recognizing another. /. . . This elf is shinobi? Huh. Maybe they’re not so foreign after all./

The elf, however, disregarded their reactions and produced a scroll from /somewhere/ on its person, setting it gently in the grass before its shadow. "If my words are not enough, then these written words from His Highness, the Emperor Silverglory Winterstar, may prove more concrete. I will return when you have a response." The elf stood, took several careful steps back, then seemed to vanish as he passed into the shadow of the grove.

Even straining his eyes, Yoru found himself hard put to identify any sign of the messenger in the shadows, but there was a nagging feeling that the elf was still there, and right in front of his nose no less.

Himitsu glanced back at Yoru, trading a silent but meaningful look before she followed the Lord back into the house. Yoru sighed, watching the paper panel slide shut. /Guess I’m on elf-watch, then./

With his attention on the task, he found he could make the shadow of the elf waiver into and out of focus, a silent sentinel just as still as he was. Once spotted, it took even less time for Yoru’s patience to slowly dwindle away. It might be a useful task, keeping an eye on the potential and enigmatic enemy, but when he wasn’t /doing/ anything, it was also as boring as hell.

Not to mention utterly uninformative. Yoru didn’t know why, but he itched to know exactly who and what the elf was- the gaping hole in their information was not only a shocking affront to their intelligence and training, but an open invitation for his curiosity.

It was in the third hour that Yoru gave up throttling his questions and let go his immense self control to wander aimlessly across the yard to the groves. He kept his pace slow and unthreatening, casual instead of purposeful as he approached. Strangely, the closer he came, the easier he could focus upon the elf, seeing it as firmly as if it wasn’t shrouded in shadows. The elf watched him back, not making any movement towards a weapon or otherwise, eyes glittering warily within their mask.

The eyes were emerald, he realized, as he came to a stop beneath the great pines.

"Konbanwa, elf-san." He smiled openly at the elf, knowing that it wouldn’t be seen beneath his own mask. "Are you planning on waiting until they come up with something?"

"Yes." The answer was uninformative, but he could read more in the dark green eyes. A beautiful shade, really. . .

"Maaa. We’re going to be stuck out here for awhile, then." Yoru leaned against an opposing tree, making himself comfortable. For some reason, he trusted that the elf wasn’t going to go anywhere.

The elf was regarding him with a look that bordered between confusion and caution, and Yoru had the feeling he would have laughed if he could see its face. /His face. He has beautiful eyes, but I think. . . Overall, he feels like a he. And it's ridiculous to keep calling a person an it. Come to think of it. . ./

"I’m Yoru. So, what can I call you?" The shinobi’s tone was idle, but his eyes were sharp, watching the elf turn over the question with consideration. /That’s right- I’m not going to ask your name anymore than you would ask for mine. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to give it./

At last, the elf seemed to reach a decision and nodded back. "Crow."

/Huh. I think he’s telling the truth./ Yoru sat back and mentally reexamined the situation. /Maybe he’s willing to be candid after all./

"Crow. Pleased to meet you. Thanks for giving us a hand back there."

The elf nodded slightly. "Hail and well met. You didn’t need it."

Yoru shrugged. "I don’t turn down help just because I didn’t ask for it."

"Your master might."

"Ne, he'll agree when he has time to think about it. Though how quickly he agrees will depend on whatever is written in that scroll you brought."

Crow tilted his head slightly in agreement. "It will be convincing enough, I hope. We would have waited until he had better evidence of our respective sides, but time is pressing."

"So that's why you're stuck waiting like a messenger bird." Yoru frowned in sympathy. "Things must be tight, then, if they're wasting a ninja like you on something like this."

If it wasn't his imagination, the elf shifted nervously, glancing back at the house. "It is not a small matter, to be trusted to a bird, and things are not yet so bad they cannot afford my absence for several days."

It sounded suspiciously as if the elf was repeating an argument, one made to himself rather than a defense to others. Yoru wondered if the elf knew how much he was divulging- but he seemed young. And it might have been his wishful thinking, but he felt. . . lonely.

/Like someone who has been on one too many midnight watches, if he's willing to be polite and, for a shinobi, downright conversational. If I tried this with Sylang, he'd have my hide. Hell, if he knew I was chatting up some unknown /elven/ shinobi, he'd have my head./

"If there isn't a reply by tomorrow, you could come back the day after." Yoru offered carefully, as casually as if the elven shinobi had not in fact admitted to being of some importance within the empire- /Maybe he just thinks he's so important that he'll be missed, but I don't think so. He doesn't feel like the type that would have a swollen sense of self-worth./ He felt a cold thrill down his spine. /. . . Just the opposite, actually. Maybe that means it /is/ a bad thing that he's stuck out here. And maybe that means this is more important than it looks like. At any rate, those are things Himitsu should know. . ./

The elf glanced sidelong at him, as if taking his words into consideration. Yoru continued, pleasantly practical, "At least, if there isn't an answer tonight, you should get some rest. Nothing's going to be resolved while they sleep."

Now that he thought about it, there did seem to be an aura of weariness about the elf- a deliberate slowness and lethargy that felt unnatural. /Maybe he's been standing all those midnight watches on end. . ./ Despite himself, Yoru felt a wave of concern for the elf.

The matter wasn't helped when the elf shook his head crisply.

"I won't risk the journey back without an answer. For better or worse I must remain until then."

Yoru frowned- there was something odd about the elf's phrasing. . . "Traveling between here and the empire- it's difficult?"

"Depending on the method used, sometimes yes and sometimes no." The elf said nothing further, bowing his head slightly.

Yoru had the sneaking suspicion that this elf used one of the harder ones. /Damnit, does he do /anything/ the easy way?/

Trust me, I'm more than well aware that the beginning sucks, and is mightily confusing. This is because I was writing words like pulling teeth until the flow was established. Before anyone is excessively confused, let me warn you that I know nothing of feudal Japan beyond fictional sources- ergo, Yoru and his Lord Reika are complete and utter fabrications- and I may even have the layout entirely wrong. Needless to say, I'm open to corrections, and I apologize for the pain this may cause anyone more properly informed. I use shinobi and ninja interchangeably, which may or may not be allowable. I blame this on Naruto. -_-;

Beyond that. . . it's more fun when you know what's going on, which, unfortunately, won't happen until one heck of a lot of backstory comes out. Still, I hope it's marginally entertaining. ^^;;

In the meantime, I have yet to eat anything, and it's two-thirty in the afternoon. . .