And yet, the three traveling companions held little concern toward nature’s own methods of self-preservation. For they sought only one mission, and this was but the truth of their lives, for the world could cease to exist, and they would pay little attention its demise.

These three travelers were garbed as peasants or pilgrims, but the pace kept would indicate their journey was far from one of enlightenment. The one leading was large, supporting a sturdy frame beneath his tattered cloak. His weathered face proudly wore the badge of experience, yet his eyes were infinitely more intense than that of his confident posture or noble stride would tell of him.

The two following closely behind were noticeably younger, yet despite the youthful energy, they struggled to keep pace with their superior. The first, a young man, perhaps in his twenty-third year of life, was as strong as any other, yet his eyes held an intuitive wisdom few boasted the luxury to share. Beneath the hood of his cloak, this young man sported his raven hair tied in a topknot, as was customary among various specialized schoolings.

The second and youngest of this parade was but fourteen summers old. He was neither as skilled nor driven as his companions, yet despite the intensions to press him to greater achievement, he still maintained a sense of purity about him. However, despite this weakness, he was still viewed favorably among the hierarchy, giving him the privilege of this mission.

The three stopped abruptly. In the distance, a small village stood against the horizon, absolving the world from obscurity. It was a small, nameless hamlet; a poor village that suffered the brunt of countless wars, yet it was the destination of these pilgrims, as decreed by destiny.

“Our informant has verified that this is the location for our meeting.” The eldest barked, his gruff voice echoing deep within his chest. His gray eyes narrowed in silent speculation as he glared over his companions, dissecting their worth.

With no other words exchanged between these men, the elder quickly turned on his heal and directed the march toward the village. The remainder of the journey was carried in silence, as no words were to be exchanged, for the damned rarely shared their thoughts. It was another half a days journey before they would walk the dirt paved roads of the meager town, and yet, amidst the poverty of the hamlet, there existed a quaint charm that filtered from the townspeople who readily parted for these strange travelers.

Sheltered in a nearby alley, despite the cooling breeze of autumn, a couple, very much in love, stood half hidden in the shadows of the neighboring houses, displaying their infatuation for all to see. Yet, despite the looks of disapproving passerby’s, these two continued their demonstration of affection. For the world seemed to fade from existence in each other’s arms, yet all they ever seemed to need was in the embrace of one another.

Those who did not see this public display of affection pretended to ignore it, yet the youngest of the pilgrims did not readily hide his curiosity. He paused a moment, staring at the two lovers, his mind drowning in the surging passion of these two, as if such emotion were but an alien reality. His eyes searched the scene, confusion and fear dancing across his blue-gray orbs.

“Genshu!” The elder stated, drawing the young man from his trance of curious bewilderment. Taking a mere moment longer to evaluate the scene before him, Genshu turned and walked toward his two companions.

Again, silence befell the three as they continued through the town, searching for the one whom they were to contact. As they continued to journey, a man in a dark gray cloak stopped them. He gave little attempt to hide his presence, for his uniform, as it were, was the symbol of the Howling Voice Guild. Thus, his presence was desperately out of place in this backwater village.

“So, you have arrived.” The man spoke loudly, again making no attempt to hide his presence, or that of the three pilgrims who now stood before him. “Well, I believe this is the document Kin was expecting.” The man in the gray cloak announced, thrusting his hand within the shadows of his cape and withdrawing a tightly rolled scroll, handing it to the eldest of the three.

“That is Master Kin.” The elder stated. “Do not forget your place Laos.”

“I know my place Da-Tan. I’m a Guild member. I’m not some radical cultist so I don’t give a damn if you call Kin the Almighty High Ruler of Purple Sheep Molesters; it’s all the same to me. Now, I must take my leave. I do hope you’ll excuse me if I don’t appear more social, but you damn temple zealots just piss me the Hell off.” Laos said, turning his back on the three warriors, only to be faced by a frail man barding his way.

“Pardon my milord, but would you have a few potch you could spare? I haven’t eaten for many days.” The little man pleaded.

The guildsman Laos stared at the old man, as if attempting to understand the plea for kindness. “Get out of my way you stupid bastard!” Laos said, backhanding the frail old man. “Damn vagrants, they’re like bloody cockroaches. They’ve been getting worse ever since that new lord moved into this territory and gave these pathetic jackasses hope.” Laos continued, seemingly ranting for no particular reason than to hear his own voice. “Stupid self-indulgent…”

“What new lord?” Genshu asked, interrupting Laos despite the disapproving stares of Da-Tan and the companion.

“How the hell would I know kid?” Laos answered, almost ignoring Genshu as he continued. “I’m not here to investigate foreign government, I’m just the messenger.” Laos continued talking, even as he departed from the presence of the three temple disciples, seemingly devoid of noticing the stares that pierced him resulting from the scene he caused mere moments prior.

Da-Tan ignored the ranting remarks of the Guild member, for he was beneath his own notice, and stared appraisingly at the scroll. Tucking it inside the folds of his robe, the man turned from his companions. “We will rest here for the eve, and continue back to the temple tomorrow. Da-Tan responded, turning from his companions and leading them yet again to the small, desolate inn in the center of the meager town.

And it was the darting stares of the townspeople, casting suspect, and even frightened eyes toward the three that led Genshu to study their apprehension as they continued their march. The stares and glances were only but quick reflections, however it was in the training of the samurai to observe everything of his surroundings, and he could sense the fear of these peopleYet Da-Tan and his companion paid little attention to these peasants or rather chose not to notice, Genshu did, however, study their fearful gaze. For it was, as if the townspeople knew of what they were that alarmed Genshu most. For though they traveled in secrecy, although it not be the way of the samurai to do so, they were being dissected by the villagers, as if they knew all the secrets of the Temple of the Silver Moon.

This brought even more alarm to Genshu, for here in the Matilda territory, the temple had no base. For these people, it was but a myth, and yet, their eyes screamed the horrifying truth that they understood that three of the demon’s were now in their midst. Genshu, for his best effort, tried to hide his face, tried to pull himself into the deep hood of his cloak, yet he would still meet someone’s eyes, see someone’s ridged posture, that told the truth of the temple. It was almost shame that consumed Genshu, and yet, this conflict of emotion drowned in his own loyal obligations for the Temple of the Silver Moon, caused his mind to reflect upon the realization before him.

“Master Da-Tan.” Genshu announced, halting the progression of his two companions. Slowly, the elder turned to face the underline who dared addressed him without being spoken to. “Master, please,” Genshu bowed his head. “I feel something is not right with this village. Please allow me to search the area.”

Da-Tan stood, his body tensed with anger, yet he stared in silent contemplation of Genshu’s request. It was not like the upstart to volunteer his services for the desire of the temple, yet perhaps, this was the sign for which Master Kin demanded he accompany the High Sensei and his chosen disciple upon this mission. It seemed Genshu had learned to respect the temple after his many years of silent protest.

“Very well,” Da-Tan responded, his voice harsh and bitter. With no further words, he returned to his current path, walking up the dusty trail and disappearing through the shadowed entrance of the inn. The other companion however, stared suspiciously at the young Genshu, his eyes searching to tear into his soul before sourly turning his back on Genshu and following his master into the structure.

Genshu chose to ignore the suspicious stares of his comrade, for he was more interested in the happenings of the village. Something had spooked these people, and Genshu could feel the tension strangle his body. It had been a steadily increasing fear, as if these citizens knew of the temples sinister means.

Ducking his head low and hiding his hands within the deep sleeves of his cloak, Genshu felt secure in his position. Yet, as dusk approached, the ever empting streets of this tiny town left the presence of a village long since abandoned by its citizens. For even in the cool autumn air, the heat of conflict could fill one’s soul.

Perhaps, Genshu thought only briefly, he was being too cautious, yet it is better to err on the side of caution. However, his moment of doubt concerning his own instincts were but that, a moment, for from the corner of his eye, he met with the briefest of glimpses of a fleeing shadow.

He was certain the escaping figure had paused a moment to study his course, and as such, made its way through the darkened alleys and back ways of this tiny hamlet. With his intuition reaffirmed, Genshu made his way through the hidden trail of his quarry. He followed the darting figure, studying its posture. The person in pursuit was small, yet agile; evasive, yet fast. It was if the person had been trained to avoid detection, which seemed grossly out of place in such a small village as this.

Genshu paused at the edge of the alley, watching the figure whom tried desperately to avoid notice. It was not the way this individual fled that concerned Genshu, but the fact that he or she was being overly cautious. Such extreme vigilance could not easily go without notice.

Genshu watched with reserved interest as the shadow darted into the large, meeting hall as it appeared to be, and quickly close the door. It was obvious that this was the place for which all answers of mystery would be granted, and Genshu, though knowing this mission was of the strictest secrecy, also recalled his training. For when a samurai seeks to confront an opponent, he does so without reserve. For only when one fights in the face of death can his honor truly be tested. Thus, he would no longer hide his presence, nor would he find refuge in the shadows.

However, his progression towards the truth was quickly halted as a large man stood, seemingly materializing from the shadows, stood before the young Genshu. His eyes were steely and defiant of the young man, yet it was the weapon held in his hand that brought Genshu’s attention to his presence. For as he sulked from the undergrowth of the forest, he came to find the barrel of what was called a ‘gun’ pointed at his head.

“You so much as breathe boy, and I’ll turn your head into a cloud.” The gruff echo of the man’s voice stabbed into the silent stillness of the darkness. Yet, it was a voice Genshu had heard before, the voice of the contact, Laos.

Behind the silhouette of the Guild member, a soothing light filtered from the opening door of the house in which Genshu had followed his quarry. From the opened door, a tall man, holding a candle before him stood in the chilling evening breeze. Though the flickering candle revealed the clothing worn by this man, the hood of his cape was drawn deeply over his face to hide his identity.

“Bring him inside Laos.” The man said simply, turning again to enter the house.

Laos was already skeptical of the young intruder, yet agreed to the order and pushed the young man inside. As Genshu entered the building, he could see the sparse decorations of the humble home, yet the furnishings were not typical of an impoverished family, but were finely constructed and delicate in design. This was, though not completely so, a home of one sporting considerable wealth.

Yet, studying his surroundings, Genshu’s eyes were drawn to the staircase, where a young woman, holding a small child stood. She was an attractive woman, of about 30 years of age. Though her natural beauty and grace seemed to flow from her with a natural extension of her own inner strength, her eyes betrayed her, for they were fearful, almost terrified eyes as if the discovery of their presence was never meant to be.

The child by her side was but four summers of age, with fiery red hair. Her emerald eyes reflected the innate caution of one of her age, and she displayed her uncertainty of this stranger by hiding behind her mother’s dress, hiding her face in the folds of the soft fabric, as if her inability to see this young man would prevent him from seeing her.

Genshu then continued his search of the residence, taking in the grounds that would be, in all consideration, the definition of normality. Genshu pondered of this house, and its inhabitants. The thought could not escape him, that had he grown up in an environment such as this, would he have been someone different? Would his life have improved? But these were but fascinations, fantasies of a life he would never know, and such thoughts would only waste precious time.

He had chosen to avoid making his discovery known, but he had seen the shadow, the person whom he pursued through the forest to this house, standing in the corner, eyeing him from beneath the hood. However, his eyes rested upon a simple sword, a mere wall decoration, and he could not contain his surprise. Walking to the wall, Genshu paid little attention to the tense stance of Laos as he moved from his designated place.

The sword upon the wall, as Genshu studied it, was a curved katana, thrust into the fur sheath with a velvet red sash tied around the hilt. A silver diamond rested in the scabbard, approximately four inches from the opening. It was a symbol Genshu knew all too well, for it was the sword often worn by the pupils of the Temple of the Silver Moon. Upon seeing this, it was now Genshu’s turn to eye his host with reserved shock and confusion as he turned to face his host.

The man whom had instructed for him to enter the home, had now removed his hood, revealing his rugged, yet handsome face. He was a tall, dark skinned man, with knowledgeable eyes and a set, firm jaw. He stood before Genshu, and studied the young man quite intently, however, upon seeing this man, a sudden flood of recognition tore through Genshu as he came to understand who this man before him truly was.

Reluctantly, his mind grasped the knowledge of this man, and seeing him before him, Genshu dropped to his knees, his head bowed.

“Master Meiyoken.” Genshu uttered in a whispered voice, confusion ripping at his psyche.

The man named Meiyoken stared at the young man before him, a look of nostalgic amusement playing across his face. Sparing a moment to look at the woman and child up the stairs, Meiyoken nodded his head in a quick, sudden jerk of motion to indicate all was well. Upon the affirmation from him, the woman turned from the room and walked into the upstairs bedchamber, leading the child with her.

“You may rise.” Meiyoken stated, recalling the general commandments of the temple. He was, at one time, a disciple of Da-Tan. As the legend developed, Meiyoken fell to an assault of bandits seeking to ambush the High Priest. His efforts saved the life of Harmonia’s omnipotent leader. Though he was not a master by decree, all of superior skills were referred to as master within the containing walls of the temple.

Upon hearing the commandments, Genshu rose to his feet, yet despite his posture and decree of respect, he could not hide the countless questions painting his face. Meiyoken saw as well the look of intended interrogation on the boy’s face, yet rather than answer; he turned his attention back toward the upstairs, staring as if in memory of where the woman and child had once stood. It was if the location held the answers to the universe itself.

“Forgive me master, but I had thought that you…”

“Died, yes.” Meiyoken responded, continuing his visage upon his sacred image. A moment past before Meiyoken turned his attention to the inquisitive young man. “It was necessary that the temple believed I had done just that.” Again, he turned his attention to the upper floor of his home. “The temple, they are a cult of demons. Though no matter how hard a demon seeks to rid an individual of his individuality, it can not take his humanity.”

“I was, you could say, not wholly honest with the temple.” Meiyoken stated, turning his attention back to the young man. “While I was a member of the temple, I met a woman, Bijiko.” Again, he turned his attention back to the stairs, but quickly returned to his tale. “We met and fell in love. It was quite easy, as you see. For above discipline there exist human nature. The most basic of all of man’s truths.”

Meiyoken continued his story, circling as he did, as if contemplating whether to disclose the whole truth to this young man before him. Yet as he stared into the youthful face of Genshu, he felt a sudden ease, as if he were looking at himself, many years ago.

“I had grown tired of the temple. It’s continual feuds with the tribesmen of the Grasslands, and its blatant murder of the helpless. It was too much for my conscience. Bijiko was the one who saved me. I began to believe I had lost my humanity, and perhaps my soul to the temple, yet she showed me a life beyond what I had known, a life worth living. We wedded in secrecy, for relations other than what the temple decreed as purposeful, were prohibited.”

“I loathed the temple and its self-serving ideology. At one time, God forgive me, I believed in what the temple preached. I felt the honor in being a part of such a noble idea was worth any sacrifice. But that was before I saw the burning house of a humble merchant and the kidnapping of his eight year old son.” Meiyoken paused a moment, studying Genshu as if to bare his soul of the burden he held, yet turned his eyes away from the young man.

“I had enough. I could not blind myself any longer in the seduction of the temple’s treachery. Lives were being destroyed, and I could no longer allow myself to be a part of it. It was then, that I met Bijiko, and shortly after our relationship filtered into more than I ever knew existed in the human soul. Then, four years ago, my daughter, Oulan was born. I knew I had to find a means of escape, for I could no longer bare the thought of being away from the family I so loved. Thus, with Laos’ assistance, I staged my death, and found my way to this small town.”

“Through my service in the temple, I had accumulated many debts owed to me. I used those debts to settle here, and establish a comfortable life for my family and I. That is all I ever asked of the world. You can imagine how shocked I was to learn that Da-Tan was here. I never dreamed that the temple’s reach would find its way into Jowston. But it was Laos who assured me that there would be no difficulties. I trust Laos with my life, and he has been a good friend to me. But I had not anticipated that you would become curious of the town. It is not the way of the temple, and thus your interest has shown me that you are not like the others. That is why I tell you this. I do hope you understand, that by letting you go, I entrust you not only with my life but with the lives of everyone in this house. I do pray my trust is not misdirected.”

Genshu paused a moment, listening to this man’s tale, before finally raising his eyes to meet Meiyoken’s. “Milord, when I first arrived at the temple, you were the only one who showed me any kindness. Many, but none as more than myself, mourned your death. I assure you, that by my honor and by my life, I shall never breath a word of this meeting to any. You have my solemn oath.” Genshu finished, bowing to the elder.

Meiyoken seemed pleased with this answer, smiling at the young man before him. “Very well, I will take you at your word, young Genshu. My sister will show you to the way to the inn.” Meiyoken signaled to the shadow, still standing in the corner, but was now uncloaked to reveal a young, very beautiful woman. She stood a head shorter than Genshu, yet her copper skin and almond eyes seemed to radiate in the dimly lit room. Her long hair was tied tightly in a braid, and She looked as though she were three, perhaps four years older than Genshu.

“Marai, please show this young man the way.” Meiyoken said, opening the door for Genshu and watching as the two fled into the night.

“Really Meiyoken, do you think its safe to let him go?” Laos spoke, allowing his presence to be remembered in the silent chateau.

“What choice do we really have my friend?” Meiyoken answered. “If he disappears, the temple will come here looking. No, there is something about that boy that reminds me of a person I thought had died long ago.” Meiyoken turned from the doorway and walked up the stairs.

Genshu followed the enigma named only Marai through the dense woods until they came to the dimly lit outskirts of the village where their chase had begun so many hours ago.

“This is as far as I go.” Marai spoke for the first time, and Genshu could not help but feel the soothing calm that echoed from her lulling voice. “I assure you, if you betray my brother’s trust, I will kill you.” She said quickly, and just as fast, she turned and fled into the shadowed forest.

Genshu looked after the young girl, feeling a sense of uneasy depression mount his spirits as he trudged into the clearing and made his way into the hamlet, finding his way to the inn.

“Where have you been?” A voice echoed from the shadows, alerting Genshu that he was not alone, and for a moment, a fear tore through him as he thought perhaps this intruder upon his solitude had seen the companion who traveled with him, but he quickly swallowed his fear, remembering his promise and oath.

“I said, where have you been?” The voice grew louder as the young companion entered the lit area, staring down at Genshu.

“I heard what you said Lazarus.” Genshu responded, finding his voice after a moment of fear. If it were true, that each lord held a particular pupil as his chosen disciple, Zorin was Da-Tan’s; Genshu and Sai were Master Kin’s; and this man, Lazarus, was Kalibas’. It was widly rumored that his skill with the sword rivaled even Master Kin, but it was common knowledge that this man was a strict rival of Zorin, each trying to best one another. It was as if the two lived only to hate one another.

“Well, do you intend to answer me?” the man named Lazarus barked.

“I thought I saw a bandit, so I investigated. That’s all.” Genshu responded, hoping his answer did not sound as fake as he knew it did.

Lazarus stared at Genshu, contemplating his meaning when he suddenly slapped the boy across the face, drawing a red pearl of blood at the corner of Genshu’s lips. “You shouldn’t lie whelp. Now tell me where you have been?”

Genshu squeezed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to flee from the madness his life had become. Yet despite his inner reason, he opened his eyes and tore into Lazarus with his own measure of defiance.

“Did Master Da-Tan send you?”

“It doesn’t matter if…”

“Then if Master Da-Tan didn’t send you, then you had best stay out of my way Lazarus.” Genshu said, surprised at the strength of his words.

“You listen to me you little…”

“No Lazarus, you listen.” Genshu interrupted, the courage of stupidity swelling into his own body. “Master Kin sent me on this mission because he trusted me. If he trusts me, then you should trust me as well.”

Lazarus’ face began to burn with indignation, fury rising into his cheeks as he stared at Genshu and the sheer arrogance displayed by this insignificant pup. Yet rather than react with actions of anger, Lazarus responded to this child in words equally as harsh as any physical blow. “So, the little worm has developed a back bone. I tell you boy, I look forward to the day you no longer have Master Kin to hide behind.” And with those words, Lazarus turned and entered the inn, disappearing in its swallowing shadow.