Yokai

Mitikori flipped the red ruby over in his hand. Years of touching it had smoothed the once jagged jewel into a perfectly smooth stone. It had lost most of its glimmer, but from under the resin, Mitikori could still catch a glimpse of the once vibrant scarlet shine. He rotated his wrist letting the orange sunlight play on the sparkly spots. It was silent in the afternoon sun. Heat ripples played across the rolling wheat fields. Sora let out a snort of protest against the blazing sun. 

“Are we lost? I don’t see any lakes around here.” Masamune spoke up. 

“Can’t stand a little sunshine?” Mitikori chided. “We’ll get there soon.” Masamune didn’t offer up any more protests. He just clicked, and his horse trotted ahead of Mitikori a short way. The fertile hills they were traveling offered little shade. Between the rows of fields were a few hedgerows, but Mitikori preferred to stay in the open during the blazing afternoon. His straw cloak protected him from the sun, and the wide fields gave him an ample view. 

“Mitikori-san,” Yoshida called out from under her umbrella. “Perhaps we should take a break until the sunlight weakens?” The Ronshin scanned across the wheat fields. Heat mirages rose from the rapidly drying ground. Then he saw it. The blaze. Fire began to spread across the summer wheat. He smiled. Time to find her. Mitikori clicked his heels into Sora’s sides and took off across the hot hills. The wildfire was spreading across the crops. It wouldn’t be long until the whole hill was ablaze. 

That is, until the cries of ravens overwhelmed the sound of the fire. Like a deluge, a flock of ravens poured from the nearby hedgerows. Their long black wings created a gale that beat down on the fire. It started to spread from the sudden burst of wind, but then the black birds began to circle. Two white ravens led them into a formation around the fire. Their wings beat down from all sides, suffocating the would-be wildfire. After the gale subsided, only burned black stalks remained. The ravens went into a blizzard of activity. They called and whirled around a flaming wheel, spitting fire and curses. A Wa nyūdō. The demon wheel shouted curses in an ancient Hellish language. Only Yoshida seemed to recognize the dialect, as she winced in disgust. 

Realizing the threat, Masamune drew his rifle. He made sure to circle around on Tsubaki to avoid hitting the ravens. The whirlwind of avians left little room to fire on the wheel, but Masamune seemed intent on finding the right angle. Mitikori charged past the Wa nyūdō towards the birds. Sora whinnied in protest of getting too close to the angered birds. Growing impatient, Mitikori leapt down from the regal horse. He rushed through the wheat stalks until he reached the shaman of the ravens. Karasu no Miko. Miko was a tall, dark-skinned woman. Her black hair was loose against her well-tanned cheeks. A feathered headdress made from raven feathers kept some of her hair back, but most had fallen out. Her eyes were black, like the birds she commanded. Miko wore only a haidate and her headdress. Her exposed skin was covered in cuts and scars from many battles. 

Upon seeing Mitikori, Miko stopped her chanting. 

“Ronshin,” She called, “You bring with you ill omens.” 

“Ambassadors of the Tenshi. I say we let the Wa nyūdō have them.” Miko smiled. Despite her aggressive appearance, the young woman had a warm smile. She drew her long black-oak naginata. The old weapon had been rebound countless times. Mitikori could see the care with which Miko kept her blade. 

“The fiery demon will burn this whole field. The farmers of Komorebi no Sato have offered my flock sanctuary in exchange for protecting them.” 

“It’s not like you to work with humans?” Mitikori questioned the young shaman’s change of heart. 

“We’ll talk later; my family needs me.” Without another word, Miko charged at the flaming wheel with her blade. 

Wa nyūdō were emissaries from hell. Cursed to eternal punishment within the wheel of a cart, only the head of the demon remained. Transfixed in eternal pain, the shaved heads of Wa nyūdō rolled across Tokiwa, searching for souls to punish. Seems they had caught it in the middle of its summertime mischief. The spiked wheel of the Wa nyūdō rotated as it charged at the whooping ravens. The lower ravens were caught off guard. The prongs of the wheel ran threw them, burying them in the earth. 

“Call your birds back,” Mitikori warned. 

“They will not be caught so easily a second time,” Miko challenged. 

“It’s not the wheel they should be worried about.” Mitikori glanced at the circling samurai rider. Masamune kept his rifle trained on the demon’s eye as his horse ran short loops to stay in position. It was an expert maneuver. The warrior’s line of fire never left his target. He just effortlessly moved his body to accommodate the rifle. Seeing Mitikori’s gaze, Miko signaled for her birds. She let out a shrill whistle, and the ravens began to raise their cyclone of wings. Seeing his chance, Masamune fired on the wheel. His first shot landed squarely in the demon’s eye. 

It gurgled more curses and fire as a response. Seeing it was free, the Wa nyūdō began to roll quickly at Masamune. The warrior yanked Tsubaki’s reins and swiftly galloped away. The flaming wheel followed in pursuit, igniting the fields as it went. 

“Keep your flock on the fire!” Mitikori instructed. Miko again whistled. The ravens made an arc into the sky before barreling down on the spreading wheat-fire. Mitikori whistled for Sora, but he found the horse was nowhere to be seen. 

“Need some help?” Yoshida called to the grounded Ronshin. 

“I need my horse back,” Mitikori groaned. Yoshida rode up beside him, bringing Kazan to a canter. Mitikori leapt onto the side of Kazan before seating himself behind Yoshida. She kept one hand on the reins and the other on a thick umbrella over her head. Mitikori thought to complain, but a sunburned scholar wasn’t something he wanted to deal with later. Kazan galloped obediently upwind of the fire. The trail led across the wheat field to a narrow irrigation stream. Ahead of them, Masamune, atop Tsubaki, cleared the narrow channel. As soon as her hooves touched the ground, Tsubaki whirled around, sending dirt up with her stamping. Masamune took another shot at the demon’s eyes. His rifle sounded, and the ravens screeched in fear. The Wa nyūdō slowed to cross the puddle of water. It continued belching flames, but its eyes looked knowingly at the trap. Masamune began the slow process of repacking his rifle. Tsubaki slowed to a simple trot to help her master reload. She whined and bayed, but stayed firm under his careful guidance. 

The Wa nyūdō, however, did not stay calm. The grumbling head shouted a cry of defiance. It wheeled back, ripping up wheat stalks as it went. Finding a suitable rock, the burping demon rolled itself off the improvised ramp across the muddy pitfall. Tsubaki charged off in a hurry, taken aback by the demon's unexpected wit. Masamune managed to collect the black powder and matchlock, but he couldn’t finish his repacking. Kazan leapt the creek, bringing Mitikori and Yoshida side by side with the Wa nyūdō. The Ronshin tossed a pot of holy water onto the demon. It crashed on the bald head of the demon, momentarily extinguishing its flame. Using the chance, Miko appeared from beneath the wheat with her naginata. She plunged the long blade into the back of the demon’s head. It began to spin forcefully, wrenching the blade from her hands. Miko was left unarmed as the Wa nyūdō wheeled around. The wall of ravens plunged from above to protect their shaman. The Wa nyūdō belched fire at the birds singing their wings. The flaming feathers of the ravens threatened to spread the fire even further. Mitikori dismounted Kazan in a hurry. Yoshida rode a short ways away, making sure to stay close if she was needed again. 

The Ronshin threw another pot of blessed water on the demon. It turned, realizing the greater threat. The demon wheel flew into a frenzy, rushing across the scorched ground to Mitikori. Hikarimono was out in a flash. She slashed the spinning spokes as Mitikori dove to safety. The Wa nyūdō quickly turned around for another charge. Mitikori stood, waiting. Hikarimono as his side aimed towards the ground. The demon wheel shouted an ancient challenge and charged again. This time, Mitikori dove to the back of the wheel’s head. Miko’s naginata was still affixed to its skull, so using all of his strength, the Ronshin grabbed the staff and shoved the wheel onto its side. The demon’s fiery mouth was now covered in dirt, but it would quickly recover. Using his short chance, Mitikori slashed at the spokes, attempting to sever the head from its wooden prison. The wheel rose with magical power back onto its spikes. Right as Miko rammed a bone knife into its remaining eye. The beast let out a shout of rage, and black fire began to seep from its mouth. 

Seeing the danger, Mitikori quickly kicked the naginata, spinning the wheel away from Miko. The black fire burst forth, dripping like lava into the earth. Then another blast went off. A smaller explosion, this time from Masamura’s teppo. The short firearm was only about one shaku long. The warrior held it easily in just one hand. However, the musket ball that had come from it has easily killed the Wa nyūdō. The demon went silent as the fire was extinguished. Or so it seemed. 

“Run!” Mitikori shouted. Throwing caution to the wind, the Ronshin charged for the small creek. He narrowly reached it when the Wa nyūdō exploded with a hellish inferno. Luckily, the fire had almost consumed most of the stalks around the blast site. The final embers were hastily blown out by the few ravens that survived the explosion. 

Mitikori pulled his now muddy feet out of the puddle. The heat from the fire was quickly giving way to the everpresent southern sun. Not that the temperature was much better. 

“We nearly got the whole field, next time we should let him have one last pass,” Mitikori remarked. 

“I apologize; next time my shots will not miss.” Masamune bowed low. Mitikori sighed, looking at the remains of autumn’s harvest. 

“At least the demon won’t spread anymore fire,” Yoshida tried to stay the Ronshin’s temper. 

“Masamune, go get Amagawa’s horse,” Mitikori commanded. The warrior bowed his head and placed his fist against his cuirass. Without a word, he mounted Tsubaki and rode off. 

“Who was that? A Tengu?” Yoshida peered from under her umbrella at the rolling golden wheat. 

“Karasu no Miko.” Mitikori also scanned the plains for Miko. “She’s very much human. Once a lady of noble birth, her sisters were slain in battle.” 

“She perished along with them,” Miko corrected Mitikori. “Later, I was resurrected by my flock.” She appeared from under the wheat with the twin white ravens atop her shoulders. Mitikori smiled. 

“You’re unhurt?” 

“Our wings have been singed, but we will survive.” Miko bowed her head, “We must thank you for coming, Ronshin. I can deal with the wolves and bears, but a Wa nyūdō was far more than I would have ever expected.” 

“We weren’t passing through, Miko. I came to see you.” Miko looked up, startled at first. A thin line of blush spread under her black eyes. It was faint on such dark skin but warmed up quickly. 

“I am honored. But why the officials of the Emperor?” 

“They seek the Drowned King.”