From Shadows Edge

The tracker stopped, savoring the scents of the forest. The aroma of the damp soil, the vegetation, the clean air stirred by the breeze, all of it combined to form a heady fragrance. He had been tracking all day, leaving the city early hoping to quickly catch the mysterious man that had been seen all over the city the day before. At midmorning, he had sent the other trackers home when they had failed their numerous attempts at finding his trail.

Using senses that had been bred into his family for generations, and had been heightened by his intense training, he had followed mercilessly the whole day. Now, as day begins to fade into night, he senses that he is finally nearing his prey. He can sense that there is something different about the man he’s tracking, but he has a hard time telling just what it is.

It doesn’t matter, he thinks to himself, Theirs is nothing that I can’t handle.

In the distance ahead, he senses both a clearing and a presence. Cautiously, he steps into the clearing, sending out all of his senses, attempting to tell what awaits him. As the sun begins to set behind him, a cold yet soft voice issues forth from the woods opposite him.

"It is time to finish this cat and mouse game. You stand no chance against me."

In utter silence, the tracker reaches up with both arms. Either hand grasps a well-worn handle, and as each time before, he is amazed at how the fact that the twin swords seem to be made just for him. Pulling free with soft whistles, he lowers the blades. Grounding the points into the soft soil underfoot, he reaches up and unstraps the baldrics holding his scabbards, letting them fall. Grasping the lower hem of his shirt, he pulls it up, over his head, and off of him, all in one swift motion; allowing no chance for a sneak attack.

Muscles rippling in the fading light, he once again reaches for the handles he knows so well. As the moon begins to rise overhead, Edge, ninja king of Eblan, stands ready, Masamune and Murasame twin moonbeams in his hands.

"Come then, I am ready" are the only words needed.

For a time there is no response, then a low whistle, followed by the crackling of underbrush, as a massive canine slowly exits the forest about fifteen yards to the king’s left. Black with a brown underside it stands waist-high to Edge. From directly in front of the king, from the shadows edge, comes his adversary.

An inch or two shorter than Edge, he is more powerfully built. The black shrouded figure moves with a grace that Edge instantly recognizes as that of a fellow ninja. Edge quickly reanalyzes the situation, a little more worried, but never afraid.

That mask will restrict his view. Hmm… Does he use the dog?

As if his thoughts are being read, the dog attacks. Charging across the space separating them, and launching itself at his throat, going for a quick kill. Grinning a bit cockily, the king pivots on the ball of his left and brings up the sword held loosely in his right hand. The sword enters into the front of the dog’s neck and exits the back, severing the spine. Pivoting back on his right foot, he lets the dog’s momentum carry it on over and off the now tightly held sword.

As the dog’s abruptly silenced howl fades from the air, another more rage filled howl erupts from the throat of the king’s adversary. Charging wildly across the ground separating them, much like the dog before him did, he attacks wildly and savagely using his own two swords. Edge uses all of his concentration and skill just keeping the flashing blades away from his exposed skin. As the fight continues and his adversary weakens, Edge is able to turn some of his own strength toward reaching his enemy. Now, roughly an even match, they fight back and forth, the still night air lit up with flashes as swords clash and clang together.

Realizing that the fight can only end in one way, Edge prepares to use a smoke screen to attempt to get behind his enemy to try to quickly kill him.

Shiva! My smoke bombs. Spying his baldric laying on the ground behind the feet of his adversary, he launches a massive attack in an attempt to turn him so he can reach it. As he dives away to grab his baldric, the other ninja brings his hand up and then down again quickly releasing his own smoke bomb.

Shiva!

The bomb hits the ground and erupts in a conflagration of thick billowing smoke. It quickly rushes forward enveloping Edge. Shutting his eyes to relieve their stinging, he is forced to rely on his other senses.

Shiva, Shiva, Shiva…where’d he go?

He was saved by those instincts that had been bred into his family for generations. He fell back just as a sword flashed by where his throat had been. A little shaken, he rolls backwards and then to his left, hoping to lose his assailant.

He crouches there waiting. Slowly, ever so softly, he allows his right hand to settle to the ground. Releasing the sword held in that hand, he slides his hand up his boot and lets it rest on the cuff. Patiently, he waits.

Time seems to drag by as the smoke slowly begins to thin. Ahead, he sees a form through the now thinning smoke. Waiting just long enough to be sure that it is indeed his attacker, brings his hand up and out rapidly. The shadowy form falls to the ground with a hollow thud.

Edge sits there for a time, waiting to be sure that his fallen foe would not arise. When he is sure, he rises and cautiously moves over next to the fallen body. Not recognizing the face, he reaches down and retrieves his knife from where it had imbedded itself in the enemy’s throat.

That’s odd, exact same wound as the dog’s.

As the sun begins to rise, Edge starts back toward Eblan castle, leaving behind two graves, both dug and covered over by his own two hands. One contains a very large dog, the other holds the body of a man known only as Shadow.

Written by Jeremy Petty

November 23, 1999