Day 19 - Yogo Shiro

The window is silent. Kachiko stirs, unfolding from her cushion to stare out at a blood-colored sky. Their discussion has been brief, terse. Filled with memories of a burning land and of an Empire that both know they will never see again. Memories of a time before the Shadow came.

Aramoro's dark form hovers uncertainly at the edge of her vision. Hitomi's footsteps retreat through the halls, and the sliding shhh of shoji screen announces her departure. They will never see one another again.

"A place without the moon," whispers Kachiko, lifting her hands to remove the ivory pins that bind her hair.

"My lady?" His voice is satin, soft and clear.

"If she calls for us, you must be sure that she is well attended."

"I will follow her." Unhesitating. "You have but to command it." His voice, lately, has been strained. Though it holds so much more than fidelity and loyalty, now it knows the pain of grief.

"No, Aramoro." The black locks fall in willowy strands across her shoulders, down her neck, and lightly into the hollow of her arched back. "Send another. Not yourself, and not Yojiro, for I will have need of you before the moon rises in the sky once more. Hisa, perhaps?."

He bows. "Your will, my lady." Soon, the lands of the Scorpion will be empty, and there will be nothing left for the Shadow to steal.

Source: posted to www.wizards.com/l5r on 2/9/00