Excerpt from a Treatise on the Research and Methodology of Kuni Mokuna by Daidoji Nazoko
…There have been many tales spread about my master – some truthful, most distorted beyond reproach – yet no one has ever asked how I came to meet him. I find this curious, since I have endured countless questions as to how an Iron Crane – an established bushi with no hope of ever learning the shugenja way – could apprentice herself to a Kuni “madman.” But be that as it may, my relationship with Mokuna-sama began thus:
I was fifteen years old and had just completed my gempukku ceremony at the Daidoji school. Word reached us that an ogre bandit had been preying on our southern territories, operating out of the nearby Kuni Wastes. My sensei swore he would bring the monster to justice, and together, the two of us set out in search of its lair. We tracked the beast for several days. It had apparently gotten word of our pursuit, for the path led further and further south into the wastelands. After a lifetime spent amid the gardens of the Crane Clan, the blasted landscape came as quite a shock. Nothing lived or breathed on the Kuni plains – not a bird, not a flower, not a blade of grass. It was all cracked soil and shifting sands, as if a mighty fire had seared the earth itself. Occasionally, a deadened tree could be seen, or a rundown building would become visible on the horizon. We never approached any of them, for they marked the territory of the Kuni magicians and we had no wish to intrude upon their solitude.
We journeyed on, gradually growing closer to our prey. At last we spotted what appeared to be its campsite, just within sight of a great shattered tower. My sensei pointed the building out and whispered to me. “There lies the dwelling of Kuni Mokuna, the most terrible shugenja since Iuchiban himself. We must not draw his attention, lest he come to assist our quarry.” I shuddered in agreement and clutched my naginata closer as we prepared to engage the ogre.
We charged into his campsite as one, brandishing our weapons with the peak of all our skills. The creature looked up from its crude campfire and grinned fiendishly at us, a great club clutched in its hands. It laughed as it rose to meet us, a sound which haunts my nightmares to this day. As we pressed the attack, it uttered a short bark, then swung its club before the fire.
We never heard them coming.
My sensei barely had time to turn before the second ogre attacked; its blow shattered his skull like a melon. My war-cry fell silent at the sight, and as I backed slowly up, I saw a third ogre clamber into the firelight to the right of the other two. Sensei’s body shuddered in a death spasm, and the trio of ogres advanced almost mockingly towards me. I stood in the center of their circle, vowing to make my death a costly one and swinging my naginata in slow sweeping arcs. Their leader, the bandit we had tracked so far, lifted his club high above me and prepared to crush the life from my body. It was then that Mokuna struck.
He stood at the edge of the firelight, all but invisible in the shadows. He whispered strange words, entreating the kami spirits to come to his aid. The ground crackled and shook as bolts of light erupted from his fingertips and slammed into the nearest ogre. The force lifted the beast off the ground and threw it flat, even as it seared unearthly burns across its leathery skin. I saw the bandit’s face lose its grin at the sight of him, and its eyes betrayed a hint of fear for the first time in the encounter. Mokuna took advantage of the hesitation by repeating his spell, this time loosing its fury on the one who had killed my sensei. It howled in pain as the light engulfed it, the flesh peeling from its bones like parchment.
That was all the bandit needed. With a quick yelp, it spun on its great legs and prepared to flee into the night. But Mokuna struck before it could move, launching a third spell directly on the heels of the first two. Later, I would marvel at his unearthly stamina – how could he invoke the kami so rapidly and with so much power? Its effectiveness, however, was never in dispute. The last ogre uttered a brief cry before being engulfed in magical energy. I could feel it shimmering around me like water, cold and exhilarating. When it faded, the bandit was gone. It its place stood a jade statue, carved perfectly in its likeness and echoing with its screams.
I was speechless, both in awe of his magical prowess and in fear at seeing the dread Kuni Mokuna for the first time. There could be no doubt that my rescuer was the same man sensei had warned me about not two hours earlier. He stood shorter than I was by a hand-span, a toughened sinewy man of approximately forty-five years. His hair was tied back beneath a broad peasant’s hat, and his body was swathed in a coarse gray robe. He clutched a pair of scrolls in each of his hands, the writing on them glowing with an unearthly light. Only later did I recall how his fingers quivered, as the cost of the casting so many spells took its toll on is fortitude. He stepped into the firelight and slowly surveyed his handiwork, his hands never leaving his clutches.
“How… how did you do that?” I finally managed to gasp at him. He looked up from the smoldering corpses and gave me a cheerless smile.
“By knowing them as I know myself,” he replied.
I would not leave his side for another twenty years.
I was fifteen years old and had just completed my gempukku ceremony at the Daidoji school. Word reached us that an ogre bandit had been preying on our southern territories, operating out of the nearby Kuni Wastes. My sensei swore he would bring the monster to justice, and together, the two of us set out in search of its lair. We tracked the beast for several days. It had apparently gotten word of our pursuit, for the path led further and further south into the wastelands. After a lifetime spent amid the gardens of the Crane Clan, the blasted landscape came as quite a shock. Nothing lived or breathed on the Kuni plains – not a bird, not a flower, not a blade of grass. It was all cracked soil and shifting sands, as if a mighty fire had seared the earth itself. Occasionally, a deadened tree could be seen, or a rundown building would become visible on the horizon. We never approached any of them, for they marked the territory of the Kuni magicians and we had no wish to intrude upon their solitude.
We journeyed on, gradually growing closer to our prey. At last we spotted what appeared to be its campsite, just within sight of a great shattered tower. My sensei pointed the building out and whispered to me. “There lies the dwelling of Kuni Mokuna, the most terrible shugenja since Iuchiban himself. We must not draw his attention, lest he come to assist our quarry.” I shuddered in agreement and clutched my naginata closer as we prepared to engage the ogre.
We charged into his campsite as one, brandishing our weapons with the peak of all our skills. The creature looked up from its crude campfire and grinned fiendishly at us, a great club clutched in its hands. It laughed as it rose to meet us, a sound which haunts my nightmares to this day. As we pressed the attack, it uttered a short bark, then swung its club before the fire.
We never heard them coming.
My sensei barely had time to turn before the second ogre attacked; its blow shattered his skull like a melon. My war-cry fell silent at the sight, and as I backed slowly up, I saw a third ogre clamber into the firelight to the right of the other two. Sensei’s body shuddered in a death spasm, and the trio of ogres advanced almost mockingly towards me. I stood in the center of their circle, vowing to make my death a costly one and swinging my naginata in slow sweeping arcs. Their leader, the bandit we had tracked so far, lifted his club high above me and prepared to crush the life from my body. It was then that Mokuna struck.
He stood at the edge of the firelight, all but invisible in the shadows. He whispered strange words, entreating the kami spirits to come to his aid. The ground crackled and shook as bolts of light erupted from his fingertips and slammed into the nearest ogre. The force lifted the beast off the ground and threw it flat, even as it seared unearthly burns across its leathery skin. I saw the bandit’s face lose its grin at the sight of him, and its eyes betrayed a hint of fear for the first time in the encounter. Mokuna took advantage of the hesitation by repeating his spell, this time loosing its fury on the one who had killed my sensei. It howled in pain as the light engulfed it, the flesh peeling from its bones like parchment.
That was all the bandit needed. With a quick yelp, it spun on its great legs and prepared to flee into the night. But Mokuna struck before it could move, launching a third spell directly on the heels of the first two. Later, I would marvel at his unearthly stamina – how could he invoke the kami so rapidly and with so much power? Its effectiveness, however, was never in dispute. The last ogre uttered a brief cry before being engulfed in magical energy. I could feel it shimmering around me like water, cold and exhilarating. When it faded, the bandit was gone. It its place stood a jade statue, carved perfectly in its likeness and echoing with its screams.
I was speechless, both in awe of his magical prowess and in fear at seeing the dread Kuni Mokuna for the first time. There could be no doubt that my rescuer was the same man sensei had warned me about not two hours earlier. He stood shorter than I was by a hand-span, a toughened sinewy man of approximately forty-five years. His hair was tied back beneath a broad peasant’s hat, and his body was swathed in a coarse gray robe. He clutched a pair of scrolls in each of his hands, the writing on them glowing with an unearthly light. Only later did I recall how his fingers quivered, as the cost of the casting so many spells took its toll on is fortitude. He stepped into the firelight and slowly surveyed his handiwork, his hands never leaving his clutches.
“How… how did you do that?” I finally managed to gasp at him. He looked up from the smoldering corpses and gave me a cheerless smile.
“By knowing them as I know myself,” he replied.
I would not leave his side for another twenty years.
