Souta:

  I reach out to the shadowed edges of that forest—that horizon now brought so close, so clear, that I can almost grasp it in the palm of my hand.

  And all of a sudden, the march halts. Our men cease, our plagued bay and cry like leashed wolves, and the darkness of night whispers its way into the sheets of the sky.

  I have not slept well in days.

  My body has been pushed and pushed. Masaru wants me ready. He wants me fearless. Instead, all I know, all I see, all I understand is that one emotion. That singular desire spurring within me.

  Flee.

  I dream of lightning, red and scorching, ripping into my green, burning out my eyes.

  I see the plagued splayed below us, rotting and wild, crazed and hungry. Some younger than me even, tongues flailing, bodies hoisted upon craven appendages that are inhuman and homunculi and insectoid and amphibian and —

  “Are you alright, Souta?”

  And here she is.

  At least with her, I don’t feel the need to run.

  I want to strangle her.

  And I don’t know why.

  She waves a hand in front of my face. “Souta? Soooooooohhhhhhhtaaaaaa. Are you alive in there? Is everything working in that little head of yours? Or, has Masaru filled it with too many lies? Hmm?”

  I slap the hand away and face her. The witch is taller than me and her red hair drips onto my shoulders like blood rain. Her crimson gaze holds my own and I try to search for my reflection in her eyes—try to see my ire mirrored in her irises—yet I can’t. She tilts her head, searching my face.

  For the past two days, she has focused her attention on me: easing me, fearmongering me, telling me how strong this Raiten is. How—

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “He’s going to tear you apart, Souta. Limb from limb.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours of course. Silly boy. I’m here to help you. To advise you. After all, this is your war.”

  “No it—” I catch myself—halt my traitorous tongue. Of course it's my war. Masaru did it for me. For my benefit.

  She puts a finger to my lips. “Shhhhh. There there. I have seen your little fears, young shogun. Don’t you worry. As long as you keep that dread within you—hold onto it like a desperate lover—then maybe you can save your Uncle. Maybe, you can even beat Raiten.”

  “Really?”

  She laughs. “Of course not, idiot.” Her voice drops all pretense of teasing, going bare flat.

  I mutter some curses and try pulling away from her. Yet she grabs onto my wrist and pulls on the cuff, making me stumble past her, to the edge of the hill.

  Enough.

  I’m going to kill her.

  I draw my katana, but she simply lays a hand on the hilt and pushes it back into the scabbard.

  “Good. Get angry. Push through your fear.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that, Souta. I need you for this upcoming battle. After all, they are almost upon us.”

  “And yet you say I can’t beat him.”

  “Hmm. I don’t lie. But, with me, you won’t have to beat him. Don’t you worry. All we have to do now is wait.”

  As if on cue, our soldiers break formation. We take charge of this last rise in the valley before the dip into the briars. We make camp. I see Masaru barking orders and once more I am reminded of his wartime prime—rather than the man he’s been on this march.

  Finally, he looks like a general.

  When he meets my gaze atop his ink-black destrier horse, he smiles. Then, he points to the sky.

  I look up to see our five whales. The elemental spirits swim in a circle overhead, huge and all-encompassing, with regiments riding on their backs, the best of our spirit-mancers taking their reins. The whales groan in the sky and their call is like that of a discordant tube echoing in the halls of a palace, traveling now across the world.

  So it is to be here then, at the edge of the Glades, where I am to face this enemy.

  This slave.

  This man who wants to end all I have been and all that I ever will be.

  I look to the plagued one last time. See, in their numbers, a little girl with black hair and a missing eye. She seems to feel my gaze, for she turns up to me, and very innocently, she smiles.

  Not for the first time, I bury my thoughts. My feelings. My vomit.

  And instead, I think of one thing.

  The only thing that matters.

  Destiny.