Raiten
It took a long while convincing Umbrahorn not to kill Sorina immediately. The wooden shark spirit was giddy with joy when I touched down from the sky, wreathed in red lightning, clutching my amulet sack. Poor Sorina went down with one blow—though I made sure not to overdo it.
I decided I needed answers.
So, I held back Umbrahorn as he tried to snap her head off, and, with some thorough convincing, I got him to watch us on the sidelines as I interrogated her.
Sorina trembles beneath me. She thinks I'm going to kill her. Perhaps I will. It all really depends on her answer to my first question.
"Why did you try killing me?" I ask. Before she can speak, I cover her mouth with one hand and raise a lightning swathed fist, for the angel dust still runs plentiful through my veins. "And do not try your sound magicks—whatever they might be. I quite like my ability to hear, thank you very much."
Her eyes widen and she nods. I let go of her mouth.
"I," she begins slowly. "Wanted to question you."
Before I can respond, Umbrahorn interjects: "for what purpose lesser spirit user?"
Sorina turns to Umbrahorn, whose top half leans forward and glares at her. She returns the glare: "I am not a lesser spirit user. And, aren't you quite the lesser spirit yourself?"
"WHAT DID YOU–"
"Umbrahorn!" I yell.
"WHAT?!" he asks, eyes full of rage.
"She's just goading you. Don't let her."
Umbrahorn's face contorts for a bit before his maw curls into a smile. "Right, you're so right Raiten! I won't let this she-witch bewitch me with her witchy words. I'm a great spirit—I am beyond such petty grievances."
I sigh. I am starting to dislike how talkative this shark is.
"Answer his question," I continue. "What was so suspicious about me?"
I press my dagger closer to her neck, drawing some blood from a small cut. She grimaces and closes her eyes. "Just do it," she whispers.
"What?"
"Just get it over with already! What are you waiting for? Stop drawing it out!"
She can't be serious. "Does it look like I want to kill you?" I ask, my voice bleeding with frustration. "If I wanted to do that, you would've been dead a while ago!"
"Well, then what does Sorayvlad even want with me?" she asks.
What? "What does Sorayvlad have to do with this?"
"You—" she falters. "You're… not from Sorayvlad?"
I look at Umbrahorn. He looks at me. Together, we both give a collective groan. I rub my forehead with my fingers and sigh, drawing the dagger away from her.
"No, I am not from Sorayvlad. I'm from the Adachi clan. A–Da–Chi!" I spell it out for her, intoning each syllable with exorbitant malice. She sits up and glares at me, the nerve of her.
"The way you looked at me when I was talking to Erot—"
"That was because you were acting incredibly shifty yourself!" I answer preemptively. This whole conflict is idiotic. All because of some stupid misunderstanding. Ah what is my damn luck?
It seems to start setting in for her now—the fact that she made such a grievous mistake.
"So what," I begin, anger rising in my voice. "Just because you thought I stared at you funny, you were going to kill me?"
"I was going to question you!" she flails her arms. Umbrahorn starts laughing in the corner. I ignore him. "But then you started immediately attacking me and I thought that meant my suspicions were confirmed—"
"I attacked you because you held a dagger to my neck! This specific dagger might I add!" I exclaim, dangling her own dagger in front of her.
"You—"
"What? Me what? I did nothing to you. How am I the villain in this situation?!" I toss the dagger to her feet in frustration. My neck and shoulder wounds have fully closed, but my chest and feet are still ripe with pain—pain that could've been entirely avoided had this idiot just decided not to put a dagger to my neck in the middle of the night.
If you were more patient and answered her questions, you could've avoided this as well, a voice in the back of my head mutters, but I shut it up. At the end of the day, I'm not in the wrong here. She's lucky no one died.
The two of us sit in silence for a bit while Umbrahorn continues laughing.
"Humans are such fools!" he says by the end of his fit. I give him a glare but that only incites more raucous laughter.
"I…" Sorina begins after the long pause, pushing the dagger aside. I watch her and am surprised to find her head dip low, touching the ground. "Am deeply sorry. I was in the wrong. This is my mistake."
'Mistake' she calls it. Quite the understatement. I make a shooing motion. "Raise your head. I don't like it when people bow to me," I sigh. She obliges, hanging her head low and staring at her dagger.
We are now at an awkward impasse.
Umbrahorn rumbles underground until he bursts up next to me, kicking some debris into my face. "Why do you hate Sorayvlad so much anyways?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious.
She sighs and winces as she tries to stand, only for her knees to buckle. Though her wounds are minimal when compared to mine, she is still mortal. I almost feel bad for her. Almost. The robes seem to weigh heavy on her so she takes them off, revealing a tighter Sorayvian clan uniform underneath; one with dark green stripes and blue patterns. A red tousle hangs limply at the side—a symbol I recognize.
The pieces of this puzzle begin forming in my head.
"You used to be of Clan Sorayvlad, right?" I ask, pointing to the red tousle. She nods, rubbing her wounded shoulder gingerly. "What happened to you?"
"It is a complicated story," she warns.
"Uncomplicate it. For now, at least," Umbrahorn says. He's calmed down now and his voice is markedly more clinical than prior.
She looks between me and Umbrahorn: "What do you know of clan Sorayvlad?"
"They are brutal. But they've made a concerted effort to be more… accommodating over the past few years. I heard they started branching out and making alliances with Western nations across Katal," I say.
She turns to Umbrahorn expectantly, but he shakes his head. "Nothing. What do you expect? I'm cooped up in this farm all the time—all I hear about is your petty village politicking."
"Right," she mutters. "Well you got most of it right, Raiten. Sorayvlad is the Eastmost clan of the five great clans and probably one of the more ruthless of them. Most Sorayvladian children, no matter what occupation they eventually choose, are always trained in their warrior ways. As for me, I was not originally born a Sorayvladian. In fact, I used to be a noble of Catolica."
"Oh," I realize. So my suspicions were right. "You got married off, didn't you?"
She nods. "I was third cousin to the princess and therefore, I had some claim to our throne. But Catolica needed warriors. So, they handed their daughters to Sorayvlad. I was nine at the time. My husband was eighteen."
Damn. "That's… tough," Umbrahorn says, beating me to the punch.
She shakes her head. "It was at first. But my husband was a kind man," she says fondly, her face instantly brightening upon mentioning him. "He never bedded me, was quite against the marriage himself, and treated me much like a younger sister for the most part. He trained me in the ways of the Sorayvlad clan and I grew to love him, in my own way. When the Clan Shogun died, however, my husband made a bid for his position. I supported him of course.
"But, his other brothers and sisters, jealous of his success, had him killed in the night," she spits. "Cowards."
No wonder she hates them. She's kind of like me, in that way. All rage and no thought behind it.
"I managed to get away, start a new life here. Hide my identity. But I've always been vigilant of any clan people and I've always slept with my lute by my bedside."
"So when you saw me… you thought your streak of luck ran out," I mutter.
She nods. "Yet in my paranoia, I was mistaken. I am sorry."
I sit in silence, trying to unpack all the information I just learned. She stares, looking me up and down, as if judging me anew.
Then, a slow realization sparks behind her eyes. "You're the Thunder Watcher of Adachi, aren't you? That's why you regenerate, why you wield red lightning. It all makes sense!"
That startles me. I mutter out a small "yes" while she nods her head fervently, as if confirming the fact to herself.
"I've seen you before. Eight years ago, when a Sorayvladian procession passed your tower to enter your lands and negotiate some settlements with your Elders," she says, shaking her head and chuckling. "You were so small and frail then, watching us from your tower. I felt sorry for you."
"Well don't," I say. "It doesn't do much for either of us." Despite her mentioning this event, I do not remember it so clearly. It blends with all the other times processions of clans, villages, and kingdoms came to negotiate with Adachi.
I do remember one particularly fraught affair with Catolica—The Galley Incident— but no other political event sticks out as clearly.
"Why… Why are you here?" she asks, completely ignoring what I said.
"Similar reasons to you I guess. This place is just a stopping point in my journey," I say. I consider hiding my true purposes, but I figure there's no point. We're all airing out our dirty closets. "When I get strong enough, I'm going to venture into the Boar Ranges and kill every single Elder of Clan Adachi in the Meeting of Clans."
"Ah, I knew there was something with you," Umbrahorn says, shaking his fin. "I approve. From the sound of it, these clans are quite troublesome."
Sorina's eyes linger on my amulet sack. "I assume that's your angel dust supply."
"How do you—"
"Our old shogun used to choke down his own version of angel dust. I think that's what killed him, actually," she shakes her head. "Alright. It seems we are in quite the awkward position. I have done you a great wrong and it's not like I can take it back easily. Had you not been an immortal, you would've been dead."
"So… what now?" I ask, chuckling slightly at the absurdity of our predicament.
"Indeed." She picks up her dagger and stows it away in her belt sheath. "For someone who claims to pursue such a complete vengeance, you're a lousy fighter."
My eyebrow twitches. "I struck you down with lightning."
"While relying on your angel dust," she says. "Without that, you fought more like a beast than a man. It might work against other people, but it won't work against trained warriors. Like me."
I want to argue against her, but she is right. She was beating my immortal, regenerating ass before I got the amulets. "What do you suggest?"
"If we could all just… forget about what happened here tonight, I'd be more than willing to train you and help you get prepared for the Boar Ranges."
Huh. That might actually be a very good offer. But before I can get a word in, the hammerhead stirs.
"I refuse!" Umbrahorn says, huffing and turning his head away. "You have not only attacked Raiten, but much more importantly, you have also greatly insulted and harmed ME, a great spirit lest you forget—you filthy lowly spirit user. I get nothing from this training plan farce of yours."
Sorina remains calm. "What would you like in compensation then, Umbrahorn?"
The hammerhead smiles: "I want you to get Erot to let me off the leash. I hunger for completion."
Her eyes narrow. I do not know what to make of this so I stay silent.
"If you don't do this for me, I will tell Erot about all that transpired tonight," Umbrahorn warns.
She shrugs. "It will be hard. But, I can try my best. It may take a bit of time to convince him though."
"Swear it on your honor."
"I swear on my husband's grave," Sorina says solemnly, taking Umbrahorn back a step. But he nods, satisfied.
She looks at me. "What about you Raiten? What do you say?"
I sigh. Two days ago, I was fighting Hui, ready to kill her, with no prospect of a future or a life beyond the tower. A day ago, that all changed. And now… here I am, negotiating with the person who just tried to kill me in the midst of the night. I might be going soft. I chuckle at that notion, which Sorina does not comment on thankfully. I really do need to realize that I'm actually interacting with other people: that means no more talking to myself like I'm crazy, no laughing at my own thoughts like I'm some lonely pariah. I'm not at the tower any longer.
Well, those will be hard habits to rid myself of.
But, one step at a time I suppose.
I nod. "Do not hold anything back. You are correct—I am in dire need of an education. Both physically and mentally."
Sorina claps her hands together and puts on that fake smile that she gracefully plastered in the village. "Great. Now that that's settled, let's all just go back to our nights and try to steal whatever sleep we can."
And just like that, she gets up to leave, quite unceremoniously. I feel both bad and awkward, watching her limp away. I look at Umbrahorn.
"What?" he asks me.
"Aren't you a wooden spirit? Can't you heal her?"
He scoffs. "And why would I do that? This wasn't part of our contract in the slightest."
Exasperated, I don't even have the will to sigh anymore. What a stupid night. What a stupid fight. Well, at least you got a mentor out of it.
I eye Umbrahorn as he watches Sorina limp away. And you've somehow found someone pettier than you. Congratulations.
The angel dust runs out. I am just a stubborn immortal once more.
The shed is far away. My wounds ache.
"Umbrahorn?"
"Yes?"
"Can I hitch a ride with you back to the shed?"
"A ride? A ride? Please Raiten, we've been over this. I'm a great spirit, I don't just give rides out to people like some traveling caravan."
"But I just rode you—"
"Goodnight Raiten!" Umbrahorn says, diving underground. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
Then he's off, leaving me to limp back to my shed alone. I glare at his fin as it disappears into the crops.
I really hate that shark.