Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 8 - Chapter 8

8. Pride

In the village, there were four samurai houses. The foremost was the House of Nigi, followed by the House of Shigano, House of Ganata, and House of Mishio in that order. These, with the addition of the House of Katsurai, who managed the onmitsu spies, and the House of Shuro, who carried on the tradition of necromancy, made up the Six Houses. 

There was a young man. He was of the House of Mishio, but in the village, women were the ones to inherit the house, and it was the matrilineal line which most mattered. Boys, no matter who they were born to, did not carry on a family name. Only by marrying a girl with a family name could a boy finally be recognized as a man, and he would take the name of his wife. 

This young man was unmarried. Furthermore, his mother was not the head of the Mishio, and he was not seen to have an aptitude for the sword, something which decided the value of those born to a samurai family. He was an attractive man, but his beautiful countenance actually made him an object of scorn. His inborn kindness, which he showed to all equally, only encouraged further mockery, and it showed no signs of letting up. 

His name was Tatsuru. 

Nigi Arara, born as the eldest daughter of the head of the House of Nigi, had, for as far back as she could remember, always watched Tatsuru, who was a year older than her, with a sense of irritation. 

Those of the four samurai houses were, from a young age, put through training that, even by the standards of samurai houses, was especially strict. 

Being roughly the same age, it was normal for them to shed sweat, and sometimes blood, together, but Tatsuru was, to put it kindly, seen as unfit, and, to be more blunt about the situation, the subject of bullying. 

The treatment he received would have made anyone gloomy. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he turned cynical. However, Tatsuru wasn’t like that. 

Even when they jeered at him, insulted him to his face, and left him out of things, it never warped him. He would work even harder at his training, trying, somehow, to make them acknowledge him. He was ever polite, bowing his head to ask for guidance even at a young age, and he never complained that he was dissatisfied or that things were unfair. 

It is of special note that, when he spoke to others, he always looked the other person straight in the eye. Though humble, he was not servile. His face was also not all that beautiful. But he was a youth whose actions, and whose very heart, were beautiful. 

That made it all the more irritating for Arara. Tatsuru was of mediocre skill, to be sure, but by training more than others, he was well on his way to becoming a viable samurai. To Arara’s eyes, the contempt she saw directed at Tatsuru was clearly unfair. And Tatsuru accepted it gracefully. 

Arara had her position as the heir to the House of Nigi to consider, so she was hesitant to criticize everyone loudly for what she saw. However, when she was fourteen, she could bear it no longer, and consulted her uncle about it. 

“Uncle, you know of Tatsuru of the House of Mishio,” said Arara. “He is one year older than me. Why is he the way he is? It frustrates me to no end.” 

“It frustrates you, does it?” her uncle asked. “Even so, he is not one so significant that you, who will one day be head of the House of Nigi, need concern yourself with him.” 

“I am not concerned for him. It simply angers me.” 

“Why would the treatment of one such as he anger you? Ah—” 

Arara’s father was of the House of Ganata, and her uncle, who was eight years younger than him, was an eccentric who had stayed single even past the age of thirty. He had wandered freely since he was young, did not have properly, and wore a strange pair of glasses that he had obtained from somewhere. 

Arara had a great fondness for this vagrant uncle who was a man of meager talent—unlike his brother, who, despite being a man, had come to be called a war god, and who had been able to marry the head of the House of Nigi. Honestly, if she were asked to think of a relative, this uncle’s face would come to mind before her own parents. Her uncle, in turn, adored Arara. 

“I see, I see,” her uncle said. “Arara, you find this young boy not entirely disagreeable, do you?” 

“What are you saying, Uncle?! I am merely saying that I find it unbearable to watch that man act so weak, not objecting in the face of everyone’s unfair treatment of him!” 

“We could say that you are righteously indignant, then. In that case, could you not simply speak to everyone about it, and admonish that boy?” 

“As daughter of the family head, I can do no such thing.” 

“Hmm. I suppose, as daughter of the family head, you cannot always say what you wish to say. What an uncomfortable position to be in. You have it hard, too, having had to be born into the House of Nigi.” 

“I take pride in being my mother and father’s child!” she retorted. 

“I see, I see. Good girl.” 

“How dare you pat a girl’s head!” 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll not do it again, so please forgive your inconsiderate uncle. If you came to hate me, I couldn’t go on living.” 

“I could never hate you, Uncle!” Arara said. “Besides, I never said to stop. 

No...” 

Before being Arara’s parents, her mother and father were the heads of the foremost of the four samurai houses. Their relationship was not that of parent and child, it was that of master and disciple. Furthermore, the heads of the House of Nigi were the strictest of masters, and Arara needed to be a loyal and earnest disciple. 

Her uncle could be irresponsible, but he was a warm person. He had hugged her often when she was young, and even now would pat her on the back and head. It embarrassed her when he did it, but she felt a kinship with him, and it made her happy. 

Her uncle was the one person Arara could tell anything. There were many subjects upon which she could only share her true feelings with him. 

That was why, at seventeen, while walking with her uncle who had returned once more from his travels, Arara secretly confessed to him. 

“Uncle, it seems... I’m in love with Tatsuru.” 

“I see.” Her uncle smiled. “That’s splendid. My niece has finally discovered love. Yes, splendid indeed.” 

“Do you think that we can be wed?” Arara asked. 

“That was sudden!” 

Arara was aware that it would be difficult. 

First of all, she had to consider Tatsuru’s feelings. Though they had trained together as fellow children of the four samurai houses, Arara had never spoken to Tatsuru on a personal level. Marriages were not always the idea of those who were to be wed, so that, in and of itself, might not be an obstacle, but if Tatsuru refused, that would be the end of it. Even if Arara proposed a marriage, and Tatsuru accepted, there was still the issue of whether the heads of the House of Nigi would allow it. In fact, that was perhaps the biggest problem. 

It was a harsh way to put it, but Tatsuru was a hanger-on of the House of Mishio. Being the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi, Arara had considerable influence. It would be a simple matter to force Tatsuru to her will, but if the heads of the house, her parents, were not in favor, she couldn’t move ahead with it. 

There had been offers of marriage for her going back years. If the heads of the house agreed to one, no matter how Arara might feel, or what she might say, she would be wedded off on the spot. 

The current candidates were the second and third sons of the House of Shigano, the eldest son of the House of Ganata, and the eldest son of the House of Mishio. Rather than it being hard to decide which of these four was the best prospect, in Arara’s eyes they were all more or less the same. Their ages and physique varied a little, but in a fight with Arara, they might or might not win. None of them were extraordinarily talented. 

The heads of the house had pondered the matter, but they’d been having trouble deciding on a marriage partner for their daughter. 

Until she’d realized her yearning for Tatsuru, Arara had had no interest in marriage. She would have been fine with any of them. She’d figured she would marry who she was told, bear children, then raise and train them. That was fine. She would merely do her duty. That was a given to her. 

If she had not fallen in love, she would never have agonized over it. Once she began to, though, she couldn’t stay put. 

Not long after telling her uncle about her love, Arara dragged Tatsuru into a secluded place where no one could see them, and revealed her emotions to him like she might deliver a letter of challenge. 

“Tatsuru-sama, I am in love with you. Please, marry me!” 

“Whuh...?” Tatsuru stared at her vacantly, his mouth agape for some time, but then responded he wanted to think over the matter properly, and politely asked her to wait seven days for his reply. 

Arara waited. 

She slept well at night, but it occupied her mind and kept her from focusing on her training during the days, so she was scolded by the heads of the house. Even when she tried to pull herself back together, thoughts about what she would do if he gave her a less-than-favorable response, or what to do if he didn’t respond after seven days kept filling her mind, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

After precisely seven days had passed, Tatsuru came to the House of Nigi. 

Arara thought he was there to see her, but that wasn’t the case. It turned out that Tatsuru had requested a meeting with her parents, the heads of the house. 

Her parents, unaware of the situation, had happened to be free at the time, and so agreed to meet with him. 

When Tatsuru had walked up in front of the heads, he suddenly prostrated himself before them. “I humbly, humbly beseech you to allow me to marry Arara-sama.” 

In an instant, not just the House of Nigi, but the entire village became as noisy as a nest of wasps that had just been poked. At first, they thought Tatsuru had fallen for Arara, and was getting ahead of himself, but that wasn’t the truth of the matter. 

If she left things to run their course, Tatsuru might find his head on the end of a spear, so Arara hurriedly explained to the heads of the house. That it was her who had fallen for Tatsuru, and her who had proposed they marry. 

Tatsuru had, after seven days of deep thought, consented to this, and had felt it was only polite he go to request it himself. 

After all, marriages were an important issue between families. Arara was the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi, foremost among the four samurai houses, so it was only appropriate he address the matter with the heads first. 

This was all so very like Tatsuru. He’d followed the proper protocol. He was right in what he was doing, but he could have said a word to Arara about doing it first. 

But that was good. This part of him was one of the things that Arara found so agreeable about Tatsuru. At this point, she could think of marrying no one else. She would have no other man. To begin with, she had never, not even once, thought of anyone but Tatsuru as a man. Tatsuru was the only one. 

Tatsuru was her one and only. 

The heads seemed unwilling to even consider it, but Arara went on bended knee and tried to persuade them. She bowed her head, too. She pleaded with them to let her marry Tatsuru. 

Naturally, part of it was that she wanted to save Tatsuru, who was not only harshly criticized by the people of the village, having stones thrown at him openly rather than just being spoken ill of behind his back, but who was also reprimanded by his parents and siblings. Tatsuru wasn’t just isolated; he was persecuted. Many samurai were bloodthirsty. If she left him be, there could well be an incident of bloodshed. 

“My lady! No, Mother! I beg of you! I beg of you, let this happen! I, Arara, ask you this one selfish favor, hoping you will allow me to be wed to Tatsuru-sama!” 

“It cannot be,” her mother said. 

“That is why I am here, asking you to bend on that!” 

“I will not bend.” 

“You’re so hardheaded!” 

“How dare you call the head of this house hardheaded!” 

“What’s wrong with calling a hardheaded person hardheaded?!” she shouted. 

“If you cannot understand what I am saying, then you are the one who is being hardheaded! You will stay in a cave until you’ve cooled your head!” 

It was the first time in all her life that Arara had argued with the head of the house. She was sealed in a cave and expected to repent. She spent five days in the lightless cave, without eating or drinking, and was finally released. Arara was completely exhausted, so she hoped that maybe the head of the house would relent and indulge her daughter’s wishes. 

Arara’s hope of that was shattered to pieces. 

“...Mother, please... I beg you, let me marry Tatsuru-sama...” 

“It is not possible,” her mother said. “It seems you’ve not reflected on your actions enough. Back to the cave with you.” 

She must be joking,  thought Arara. If she were returned to the cave like this, she’d die. 

But it was no joke. By the orders of the head of the house, Arara was thrown into the cave once more. 

The second time she was released after three days, she had only survived because of the training her body and spirit had been put through, and because she had swallowed her pride to lap up what little moisture there was on the cave walls. 

She had to consider that the head of the house might be serious. If she wouldn’t do as she was told, whether she was her daughter or not, the head might not mind seeing her die. Or perhaps she was confident that, if she was ready to kill her, she could make her daughter obey her. 

Arara had no intention of doing as she was told. She couldn’t let the head of the house kill her, though. She couldn’t be with Tatsuru-sama if she was dead, after all. 

If Arara stayed stubborn and lost her life for it, Tatsuru would grieve. He might take his own life. That wasn’t what Arara wanted. 

So Arara gave up on appealing directly to the heads of the house. On the surface, she returned to training in the sword as before, but she and Tatsuru had many secret trysts. Trysts though they might have been, neither of the two was particularly skilled with words. They would just talk just a little, and then exchange letters. 

On the orders of the head of the house, the onmitsu’s nyaas were monitoring them, so even managing that much took a great deal of effort. 

They had to dispose of the letters immediately after reading them. If they kept them hidden somewhere, and the skillful and clever nyaas went looking, they might find them. 

The head of the house would eventually move forward with another marriage for her. What would she do then? If push came to shove, the head of the house would do what it took to make her comply. Even if she refused, would she be able to reject it? Wouldn’t the head of the house get her way in the end? 

Even as Tatsuru was isolated and without support, suffering incredible harassment, unending slander, and straight-up abuse, nothing ever clouded his eyes. What was more, he saw it as inevitable, and so he didn’t resent anyone for it, and repeatedly told Arara she mustn’t resent anyone, either. 

It seemed to Arara that he spoke from the heart when he said these things. 

Her respect for him deepened, as did her love. When it got to be too much for her, she let slip to her uncle that she wanted to just elope with him. 

“If that is what you want to do, I won’t stop you, but I would feel a wee bit uneasy, sending you two out into the unfamiliar outside world alone,” he said. “Let me guide you wherever you would like to go.” 

“Uncle, I am serious about this.” 

“As am I. Well, if the truth came to light, I am sure your parents would kill me, but if it were for your sake, I would gladly give my life.” 

“I’ll believe you.” 

“Sure, go ahead, go ahead.” 

Half because her uncle had instigated her to do so, Arara brought up the idea of eloping during one of her secret meetings with Tatsuru. Surely, Tatsuru wouldn’t refuse her. 

Arara was wrong. 

“We mustn’t, Arara-sama,” he said. “Eloping is out of the question. I can’t abide it. Even if we escaped successfully, it would bring ill fortune to all involved.” 

“...But, Tatsuru-sama. Is there any way but eloping that we can be together in this life? The head of the house will find a man for me soon. Even if I fight against it, I’ll have no say in the matter...” 

“The truth is, I do have a plan.” 

As she listened to him, she learned that Tatsuru had been formulating a plan, and training day and night so that he might execute it. In fact, compared to the time when Arara was sealed in the cave, Tatsuru’s body had grown much larger, and more manly. 

According to Tatsuru, this was all a result of his lack of skill, and if he had attained a level of prowess that even the heads of her house were forced to recognize, they wouldn’t have opposed their marriage. 

Indeed, a samurai had to be strong. Strength was not a thing to be flaunted, but if it was never demonstrated, others wouldn’t know about it. 

Tatsuru explained that he had taken the wrong path, and gotten the order of things incorrect. To gain the head of the house’s approval, he first needed to become a samurai worthy of her. It had been a mistake to ask for her hand before that. 

“But how will you make everyone acknowledge you?” Arara asked. 

“By striking down a powerful foe, of course.” 

“You don’t mean...” 

“Indeed I do, Arara-sama. Recently, there is only one foe who has made the people of the village tremble in fear.” 

“You would slay Arnold the ‘Bloody Whirlwind’?” 

The village didn’t stay in one location. Ever since they’d lost their homeland, it had been their custom to perform an augury, and to move the village on the day it was determined it would be auspicious to do so. In addition, everyone was accomplished at using the labyrinthine terrain of Thousand Valley to their advantage, so it was not often that the village was threatened by external enemies. 

Neither the undead who had infested the domain of the former Kingdom of Ishmar, nor the orcs who had built their Kingdom of Vangish in the domain of the former Kingdom of Nananka, went out of their way to strike the village. Of course, that was because the villagers were always on alert, and they spent their days tirelessly working to improve themselves. It was better to be prepared than to regret it later. 

The village was always prepared, and the undead and orcs who had destroyed their homeland knew this, too, so they didn’t attack. 

It wasn’t that the village had let their guards down. Around half a year earlier, in the dead of night, that double-armed undead, Arnold, had broken though the defenses with brute force and entered the village. 

There had been seven dead, twenty-three injured. 

The undead who had swung his four katanas around, cutting down the samurai one after another, and chopping the flesh golems that served the necromancers to ribbons, had clearly been enjoying the slaughter from the center of the bloody whirlwind he formed around himself. Shockingly, that undead had come alone. Just one person had entered the village, taken many lives, and injured so many more, then shook off the samurai of the four houses and the onmitsu that pursued him. 

It went without saying that this had been a painful incident for the village. 

It had been an incredible tragedy, and a great humiliation. 

They had soon identified the undead responsible. He was a member of the Black Eagle Band, Forgan, led by Jumbo the Orc, and his name was Arnold. 

It was said he was among the strongest members of Forgan. 

Forgan operated across a fairly wide area, including the former domains of the kingdoms of Ishmar, Nananka, and Arabakia. Their true nature remained unknown, but they were seen as a drifting group of refugees that came into conflict with factions everywhere. 

That said, they were no mere refugees. They had been involved in a large number of bloody incidents, and that included some battles that were on a large enough scale that it would be fair to call them wars. 

They had taken their fair share of casualties, too, but their renown had only grown with time. It was said that the king of the new Kingdom of Vangish had once asked Jumbo to serve under him, but he’d been summarily rejected. It had been a harsh blow to his prestige. Out of resentment, the king sent his army in an attempt to subdue them. However, though the force from Vangish had put up a valiant fight, and outnumbered Forgan many times over, they’d been wiped out. Instead of restoring his authority, the king had fallen from power. 

The strange thing was that Arnold had come into the village alone. The onmitsu had been able to determine that Forgan had made camp at a location only around ten kilometers from the village. However, Arnold hadn’t continued to attack the village. In fact, he didn’t seem interested in the village at all. 

Would they take revenge, or watch and wait? 

The heads of the six houses held a joint council, and came to an answer. 

They would strengthen their security, then take revenge with ambushes and surprise attacks, and see what Forgan did. 

They immediately formed and dispatched a retribution force of samurai, onmitsu, and necromancers, but Forgan split up as if they had anticipated this, making them hard to capture. 

If the enemy was aware they had set out to attack them, the village might be attacked instead. Though they had beefed up the defenses, with the retribution force outside the village’s combat potential was reduced by that much. The retribution force had to consider the possibility of being caught in an ambush, too. 

The path that the village had walked was by no means flat, and they had faced a number of crises in the past. It wasn’t as if the current heads of the six houses had never faced an emergency that had threatened their survival before. However, the people of the village, including the heads of the six houses, had never known war. 

Long ago, their homelands had struggled against the great army of the No-Life King, fought valiantly, been struck down, and miserably destroyed. That was why they now so thoroughly avoided war. Because of that, they had set themselves up in a way that no one would attack them. That was the major policy of the village. 

The heads of the six houses made the decision to call back the retribution force, thicken their patrols, and remain in a state of readiness for battle. There were those who criticized this as weakness, but everyone obeyed. 

Forgan didn’t seem to do anything particularly special. They were definitely in Thousand Valley, but they were quiet, as if they were avoiding contact with the people of the village. 

A month passed like that, then two, then three... 

Soon, it had been half a year. 

It had gotten to the point that the majority view was that maybe Forgan had no intention of fighting. Still, they couldn’t let their guards down. 

Arnold’s rampage through the village had taken place shortly after the second time Arara had been sealed in the cave. The whole village was on edge, so perhaps Tatsuru was serving as an outlet for some of that. 

If Tatsuru could slay Arnold, no one could ignore that accomplishment. 

However, it might also be the trigger that started a war. 

Even if she didn’t always want to be, Arara was the eldest daughter of the House of Nigi. That concern immediately crossed her mind, but she was hesitant to use it as a reason to persuade Tatsuru to stop. It was hard to tell him the enemy was too great for him, too. She didn’t want to wound Tatsuru’s pride. 

“I think we should elope after all, Tatsuru,” Arara said. “If you are with me, I have no need of anything else. Even if it means throwing everything else away, I would have no regrets.” 

“I don’t want to throw anything away, Arara-sama,” said Tatsuru. “The heads of your house are especially concerned for your well-being. If we tread on the hearts of your parents by eloping, we will surely come to regret it later.” 

“Those two only care about the house and the village!” 

“No. You’re wrong, Arara-sama. The heads of your house are people, too. 

However, as the ones charged with leading the greatest of the four samurai houses, they must bite back their tears and kill their own selfish desires. Do you not understand that?!” 

When he scolded her, she was overcome. Tatsuru’s consideration and brave resolve touched her heart. 

Even so, she shouldn’t let him go. No matter how he trained, Tatsuru couldn’t become a master swordsman. He might make for an experienced instructor someday, but he could aspire to no more. Having been born with potential befitting the eldest child of the House of Nigi, Arara had an almost perfect grasp of Tatsuru’s talent, and his limits. Short of being blessed with incredibly good fortune, Tatsuru couldn’t defeat Arnold the Bloody Whirlwind. 

Though she knew this, Arara didn’t stop him. No, she couldn’t stop him. 

He was a samurai warrior, risking his life to accomplish something. Even if it was rash, or reckless, she could not ask a samurai to bend his will. 

Because she loved him, that was the one thing she could not do. 

Because that was the way of the samurai warrior, there were times when the heads of the house would issue high-handed orders for them to stop. But as long as those above them didn’t hold them back, allowing no room for disagreement, a samurai never stopped. 

The following day, Tatsuru left the village, never to return...