Mori versus the Oni Part 1 - Chapter 5
A Bustling and Deserted Pagoda
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The ferry sagged in the sand. Waves lapped at the stern bringing seaweed that caught around the hull. Families shaded themselves in the long shadow cast by the ferry as leaned starboard. Children cried. Mothers stared into the sand. Fathers kicked rocks or followed Kenji and Sadatsugu around looking for something to do. The oarsmen sunned themselves and lounged on the sand.
‘Axes?’ Sadatsugu grunted.
‘We have the tools,’ Kenji nodded and ran his hand around one of three holes in the hull. The wood splintered and smashed in by an oni that now rested at the bottom of the sea. Maybe. Kenji turned around to the lost men, ‘And we have the manpower to do it.’
‘Then why are we standing around?’
Kenji sighed. ’Fine. You lot! Get the tools,’ he shouted to his oarsmen. Less than half the men responded, the others lay in the sand. ‘I want one plank from each of you or you’re not getting paid.’ Majority of the oarsmen leapt up. A couple remained in the sand.
‘Why bother? No where to spend it with monsters roaming the land,’ one of the oarsmen drawled.
Another kicked him in the ribs, ‘What about after? Huh?’
He shrugged.
‘Leave the laggards here then,’ Kenji said. ‘You lot, follow me.’ He gestured to the lost men following him around the beach. ‘Mori, could use you too.’
Mori stood on the highest rock he could find peering into the forest trying to see over the canopy and to the pagoda piercing the trees. ‘I’m busy.’
‘Busy? The place is abandoned.’
Mori jumped from the rock and landed in a flurry of sand. ‘I’m going to investigate.’
Kenji rolled his head, ‘Lazier than my oarsmen.’
Mori didn’t hear the ferry master and trotted up the beach and into the deciduous forest. Ano and Kota followed. ‘Stay with Sadatsugu and Kenji,’ Mori said. ‘They will need your help, okay?’
Ano and Kota both paused for a moment. Kota’s eyes narrowed and he nodded, ‘Alright. Come on Ano.’ He took his younger sister’s hand and followed Kenji instead. Mori watched them go until he couldn’t see them beyond the shrubs and tree trunks.
Mori climbed the gradual hill through the forest. The forest floor became bare deeper in, the trees standing apart in their own fiefdoms. All giants of the wood unable to topple one another. Mist clung around Mori’s legs and to the base of tree trunks. Mori waved his hand through the mist. Nothing happened. Odd, Mori thought while his hand itched.
Ahead of Mori was the silhouette of a man, hunched over with a bird silently resting on his head. Mori shouted out to the man but there was no response. He neared and laughed at himself. It was a statue. Faded paint outlined robe and hair and feathers but it was a statue. Mori marvelled at the intricate chisel work of the birds feathers and eyes. Lifelike save for the eery silence. The mist that followed Mori hugged the statue of man and bird all the same and seemed to flow outward from it. Mori peered around and spotted a handful more statues between the trees. No pattern or path to them. All with stone birds resting on head, shoulder, thigh.
A crash from the coast rumbled through the forest. Birds erupted into screeching song and flight. Kenji had found a sizeable tree. Mori continued onward.
The pagoda stood in the distance with faded red roof tiles and patchy walls. Abandoned like Kenji had said. He’d made it this far and returning now would be pointless. Mori continued up to the pagoda. The closer he came to the tower the brighter it seemed. The patches in the walls shrunk. The tiles lustred. Flowers bloomed around the base of the tower and the crumbling gates rebuilt themselves with each step Mori made closer to the pagoda. He gulped and pushed through what was only one of several strange things in his day.
The double doors of the pagoda stood open, tiger carvings roared across each side and he walked into a hall of sweet smelling incense and subtle lighting. Eight men and women sat cross legged in two rows of four either side of the temple. A bronze buddha sat on a raised platform at the far end, hands pressed together in prayer.
Mori bowed at the threshold and walked in. The eight people looked up synchronously. They wore robes of silk and tall curved moon hats laced with gold. Wizened faces with long bone white eyebrows watched Mori. Tight folds of skin hid the eyes of those nearest to the entrance.
‘Mori. Wielder of Stolen Power,’ the man nearest to his left said. He rang a small bell. The sound pierced the air and dispelled the mist.
‘Mortal in a war of immortals,’ the woman on the right nearest the buddha said, sea froth white hair curled over her shoulders. She rang a small etched bell.
‘What has brought you here?’ Another said, ringing a small bell after he spoke.
Mori’s throat was dry, ‘Chance.’
‘Chance is a mortal interpretation of fate,’ the first man said. His bell chimed, joining with those before it in a harmony.
‘War,’ Mori ventured. He frowned, ‘Stolen? This was forced upon me,’ he rose his hand.
Heads nodded. Gold and jewels jingled from atop the crescent moon hats. ‘Mori has been pushed towards us. By whom? For what purpose? I cannot say. Gifted, I believe the one who stole it would say.’
‘Stolen from who?’
‘Heaven.’ The bell chimes refused to fade, lingering in the hall and raising through the levels of the pagoda. Mori peered up into the dark tower, the balconies unlit and shadowed.
‘Who are you?’
‘Onmyoji,’ the eight said in unison. Eight bells rang.
Mori covered his ears as the cacophony built and echoed through the pagoda. ‘You speak of war?’
‘A war of oni that has spilled into the mortal realm. Heaven is displeased.’
‘Then intervene.’
‘Heaven cannot. You have the stolen power, and so you are to do what heaven cannot,’ the first woman pointed to Mori’s marked hand.
‘But I am only a man.’
‘Fate weaves how it will,’ the first man said.
An onmyoji stood, her bones creaking, and shuffled towards Mori. With each step she rang her silver etched hand bell. Brilliant white eyes peered out from dense wrinkles and thick lidded eyes. She shuffled past Mori, not benefiting him with a glance, and stopped near the door. ‘This is for you,’ she said as a small drum appeared in her hand. Ano appeared from behind the door, hands clasped in front of her. She reached for the drum identical to the one she lost to the fire when Mori, Kota, and Ano had fled their home days ago.
Ano took the drum and twisted it twice. The beads on the end of string swooshed through the air and struck the tight pig skin drum. The sound joined with that of the hand bells and lingered in one harmonious note. ‘Thank you, grandma,’ Ano said.
Mori stifled his anger at Ano. At Kota for losing sight of her and prayed his brother had not followed her into the forest too. A small feeling of pride welled for his sister at being able to track and follow him.
The onmyoji turned to Mori, her hunched form straightening up. She smiled and Mori felt a wave of unease ripple through him. She rang her hand bell and the sound merged with the others and snapped to silence. The eight onmyoji vanished in a whirl of mist and fog. The candles withered to nothing, the bronze buddha vanished, holes appeared in the floorboards. The doors crumbled with rot.
Mori bowed to where the buddha had sat and joined Ano outside the pagoda. ‘I am impressed you tracked me and angry you placed yourself in danger.’
Ano played with her drum, the low sound fading in the forest. ‘Sorry brother.’
‘I can no longer leave you and Kota behind either. For you to remain in danger is my fault,’ he said uncertain of how he was remedy the problem.
A dense fog swirled in an orb before Mori. His hand glowed. ‘Ano get inside and hide,’ he pushed his sister into the decaying temple. His sword flashed out of his scabbed as a long blue and red skinned leg stepped out of the fog. A gravelled laugh rumbled forth. A puff of smoke followed from a long ivory pipe, the bowl made from a human skull. Wisps of grey hair floated up from a three horned head with skin stretched bone tight. The oni fully emerged from the fog and stood twice as tall as Mori wielding a black club with a sword edge imbedded on one side and shimmering steel spikes on the other. ‘Little man should not have come here. Thick with arcane scent,’ the oni puffed on its pipe and a ring of smoke escaped thin blue lips. The oni leapt forward and swung.
Mori ducked and rolled under the sword-club. Plaster exploded from the wall behind him as he exited the roll into a run at the oni. He darted between the monsters legs and hacked at its heels. The oni kicked and stomped catching Mori across the arm. The ronin stumbled back feeling his arm bruise quickly. The oni slithered around and slammed the club down towards Mori with a ravage wildness. Mori leapt to the side. Earth blasted into the air and littered down in gentle pitter patters. The oni scraped its club along the ground sending a torrent of dirt at Mori. Mori shielded his eyes with his sleeves. A flash of steel alerted him to the follow up. Mori caught the bladed side of the sword-club with his uchigatana. His bones creaked from the effort. The blue mark on his hand brightened and tiny worm-like beings swirled within. He felt a surge of strength and pushed the oni’s attack back. He drew his wakizashi in his left hand and dashed close to the oni. He hacked at arm, torso, and leg, in quick succession. Blood oozed from the flurry of gashes. The oni roared and whacked Mori across the head with its pipe. Skull struck skull and Mori ear screeched and stars clouded his vision. The pair parted.
Mist encircled the trees of the forest and climbed the trunks like ivy. The oni sucked on its pipe and snorted horns of smoke. It charged and swung wildly. Mori dashed behind the closest tree and continued on in a circle around the oni. The club carved through the air and collided with a giant of the forest. Wood shattered. The tree groaned as a crack split the tree in half. Leaves and branches rustled high over head and the trunk buckled. Wood splintered and rained over Mori as the oni’s victim was caught by nearby trees. The trunk pinched the oni’s sword-club between the two halves of the trunk. Mori darted under the oni’s arm and slashed at its wrist. The pipe came down overhead and slammed into the ground beside Mori, the human skull bowl shattering and spilling its burning leaves and ash over the forest floor. The oni screamed and swatted Mori with the back of its hand. Spiked knuckled caught Mori in the chest and sent him flying through the air. A tree trunk caught him, forcing the air from his lungs and cracking a rib. Mori sagged to the ground wheezing, spots of blood appearing through his kimono. He stood using his uchigatana as support. He coughed into mist around him.
The oni freed its sword-club, blood dripping like lace from its legs and arm. Lips peeled back to reveal long, narrow, serrated teeth crowding its mouth. It spat curses at Mori and stomped towards him. Mori lifted his swords up. The world spun. The stolen gift burned bright and the swirl around the character for person etched itself a little further up his arm. Mori charged, vision blurred, at oni. The sword-club flew at him. Mori deflected it over his head and jammed his wakizashi into the monsters wrist and dragged the blade up its arm. He planted his uchigatana into the oni’s torso and pressed his palm to its flesh. The oni roared, dropped its sword-club, and began slapping at Mori. Mori withdrew his blades and ducked under the oni’s legs and slashed at its lower back, catching its spine. The oni in a pile, arms flailing and churning the ground to bloodied mud. Froth bubbled between its teeth and nothing but screeching and inhuman curses fled its tongue. Legs lay immobile from its body. The oni pawed for its broken pipe and tried desperately to inhale its vapours. Nothing came from the cold ashes strewn across the forest floor. Mori pressed his hand to the monsters leg. The red and blue skin burned and cracked with his touch. Blackened skin spread higher and higher up the oni’s body. Tendrils of ash stretched up its neck and bored into its open mouth. Teeth fell out and the jaw crumbled to ash. The rest of the oni followed and nought was left but ash.
Mori gazed into the ash and felt the blue mark squirm beneath his skin. ‘Is it dead?’ Ano whispered by his side, clutching her drum.
‘Yes,’ Mori stared into the ash.
‘I want to go home,’ Ano said.
‘Me too,’ Mori whispered.
Kenji shouted commands across the beach. Oarsmen and passengers hammered fresh planks over the holes the ferry’s hull. Kota ran up to Mori and Ano. ‘There you are! I’ve looked everywhere. I’m sorry brother, Ano slipped out of sight.’
Mori was exhausted and didn’t much care anymore. He drew himself up. ‘Don’t let it happen again,’ he said not feeling the weight of his own words. He stumbled past his younger brother while Ano showed off her drum and collapsed face first into the sand.
‘Mori!’ Sadatsugu yelled but Mori heard it as if underwater and slipped out of consciousness.
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