Flight of the Mourning Dove

Of Scorched Earth and Burning Homes

Fires raged on the grassy plains, the once darkened forests, the homes of workmen proud of their meager achievements of wood and straw, burning before their broken bodies strewn on the ground outside.

In the early 1400s there was once a man of China named Zheng He, an admiral of a giant fleet of ships the size of which has not been repeated until centuries later. This fleet traveled around the world from China to India. To Polynesia. To Arabia, Africa, Europe and even rumored to have seen the lands that silly Europeans thought inexistent before other would be discoveries.

The fire licked the trunks of beech pine and maple reaching their tender leaves for the like wolves leaping at prey trapped above. Below on a bed of dry brown pine needles bodies lay eaten away by the inferno, ashes to ashes.

Zheng He became known as the admiral of China’s treasure fleet. His ships became the house of treasures from all around the world. Museums on water filled with artifacts of incredible worth a home to wealth of all the nations that would impress the foreign people of Indian Ocean and beyond.

In the distance the fires consumed a castle raging through its beautifully structured Japanese roofs and walls. People raced out the surrounding village as raiders on horseback burned every building to the ground.

Such wealth does not come without enemies. When China’s emperor was overthrown and a new emperor took the throne, he did not wish the glory of the former leader to be remembered. The treasure fleet was ordered to be burned along with the log books and any evidence of the fleet. Zheng He’s was on the run as a supporter of the former emperor.

The raiders chased the villagers across the bluffs. Naginata in hand they speared down all life, the screams of women and children going unheard by their attackers.

Only a few records remained of Zheng He’s fleet. It never existed to the rest of the world except through the few texts. When Zheng He’s grave was found, it was opened to see the man who commanded the greatest fleet of the old world. When the grave was uncovered the only thing found in his grave, was a pair of sailors boots. This, is the story of his legacy.

A young hairy shirtless European man of twenty fell to his knees. He felt the prickly grass under his hands as he caught himself. His well toned muscles flexed under his weight. He was groggy and struggled to stay awake. His long hair was messy and beads of sweat covered him. He reached up and felt a tickle on the back of his neck. He looked down at his hand and saw they were bloody. The blood trickled down his neck and into the grass. The men standing around him laughed. The young man looked up, his five inch beard flowing in the wind. He saw the men’s faces, all of them were covered in tattoos, they carried axes, spears, swords. There were eight of them, their horses nearby. The young man looked over and saw some of them dragging a pair of restless girls similar looking to the man, out of a house while others threw torches on the straw roof.

“No…take me instead! Leave them alone!” The young man cried.

The raiders threw the girls to the ground in front of the young man.

“Kanarf! Kanarf help us!” The younger girl screamed.

A larger brutish man grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. He tugged on her hair forcing her to stand.

“Too young, no sport,” The man said with a deep voice in Japanese tossing her to her knees.

The man motioned to the other men who then grabbed the girl and threw her on a fallen log. The girl screamed and kicked while her sister and brother fought with the raiders.

“Please! She didn’t do anything! Stop this!” The older girl argued. “Kanarf do something!”

Kanarf struggled with his captors but they held him down. The brute walked up behind the young girl as she was being held against the log by two men each holding her arms spread out along the log. The brute kicked her head down, her neck now rubbing against the log.

“Leave her alone!” Kanarf roared in Japanese.

The brute took out his axe and swung down at the girl’s neck as her siblings screamed. Kanarf turned away unable to see the horror of his decapitated sister. The raiders turned to the older sister.

“This one looks like a bit more fun…” A skinny man with one eye said with a devious smile as he stroked the girl’s cheek.

The girl bit at his finger and he pulled away chuckling.

“Stop it!” The girl shouted shuddering as she turned her head to look at her sister’s body

The brutish man came in between Kanarf and his sister. He bent down and looked Kanarf in the eyes.

“You’re not going to like this big brother,” The man said in slow broken English. “We’ll kill you soon though, you just have to watch this first.”

A man came up on horseback to the group with a bow and arrow in his hands.

“What’s taking so long! No survivors!” The rider commanded.

“This village is nothing but ash! We can have a bit of fun can’t we?” The skinny man said as he kissed the nape of the girl’s neck as she squirmed around terrified.

The rider drew his bow back and shot the skinny man through the head. The other men watched him surprised as he dismounted.

“You four continue to your search in the forests, we saw a few escape there. You two hold the man.”

The men let the girl go and she immediately got up to run away. Just as she did the rider shot an arrow though her calf and pinned her leg to the ground. She screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Kanarf struggled all the more.

“Stop it!” Kanarf shouted in their native Japanese.

Without hesitation the rider took the girl by the throat and drew his sword.

“No! Stop! Kanarf help!” The girl screeched.

“No!” Kanarf roared as he broke free from his holders in a rage and charged to save his sister.

The rider’s katana shot through the girl’s stomach. Kanarf’s face was hit by a spray of her blood and he came to an abrupt halt in front of her as the katana’s point was now inches away from his neck. The girl gasped and fell limp into Kanarf’s arms as she slid off the blade. Tears sprang from Kanarf’s eyes as he dropped to the ground with his dying sister in his arms.

“How could you…she’s done nothing to you…” Kanarf murmured, his face blank and wet with tears.

The other two raiders caught up to Kanarf and grabbed his arms stretching him out. The rider stepped forward readying his katana. Kanarf wearily looked down at his sister who was slowly turning her head up from the ground to face him.

“I’m sorry…” Kanarf whispered.

The girl silently shook her head and reached for the hilt the axe dropped on the ground. Kanarf’s eyes grew wide upon seeing it. The rider raised his sword as the men positioned Kanarf’s neck for him. The girl used the last of her strength to ease the axe towards Kanarf. Then as the rider chopped down, Kanarf threw his body weight forward forcing the man on his right into the path of the rider’s blade. The blade sunk into the man’s back severing the spine and most of his chest in two. Kanarf reached down and grasped the axe as the man on his left pulled him upwards. Kanarf used this momentum and swung the axe into the side of the rider’s head much to his surprise. Kanarf shot his elbow back into the third man’s nose and repeated with the butt of his axe handle. The man fell away from Kanarf just as Kanarf swung the axe into the man’s chest. The axe head ripped through the man’s ribs and smashed his heart. Kanarf released the axe letting the man fall over with the axe still embedded in his chest.

Kanarf stood panting seeing the three men he had killed laying around him. Kanarf fell over shaking, he looked at his hands covered in blood with a twisted disgusted look on his face. His sister reached up and grasped his blood soaked hands.

“It’s ok Kanarf…I’m glad you’re alive,” She whispered struggling to breath as tears filled her misty blue eyes.

“I’ve never killed anything before…no man, no animal…gah come on we have to get out of here!” Kanarf said coming back to his senses.

“No…Kanarf,”

“Never! I’m not leaving you!” Kanarf cried as he reached past her to remove the arrow from her blood smeared leg.

He ripped the green velvet skirt off the arrow fully revealing the grievous wound in his sister’s leg. Blood was flowing everywhere, trickling down her gown that was soaked in blood from her stomach wound.

“Kanarf! It’s too late go!” She argued weakly.

“No…I can…I can do something…” Kanarf said nervously trying to keep the river of blood from flowing out of her leg.

Not far off down the hill a group of horsemen were riding towards them.

“Kanarf! They’re coming! Go!” The girl screamed as he grasped arm and pulled him towards her face.

Kanarf reached up and cupped her face between his bloody hands reverently. Kanarf looked back and saw the riders growing closer.

“I can’t leave you Liv!”

“You have to Kanarf! I’m dead…please live…for me…for our sister Libby. For the rest of our friends and family! Stay alive! Escape!” Liv pleaded with him as her grasp of his arm fell away.

“Liv! No wait!” Kanarf cried as he threw himself forward catching her head falling backwards.

He cradled her head against his breast as he looked up to see the riders pointing at him. Kanarf looked down at Liv once again and saw her eyes closed. He heaved a heavy sigh of sorrow as tears ran down his cheeks. Kanarf gently laid Liv on the ground and gathered her hands onto her chest. Kanarf then ran over to Libby’s corpse. He turned away disgusted at first but forced himself to see her headless body. He quickly tore a large scrap of cloth from the bottom of her white bloody gown that covered her shins and knees then threw it over the young girl’s torso and nearby removed head.

Kanarf gritted his teeth and stood up seeing the raiders just down the hill. Kanarf jogged over to the man who’s chest was filled with the head of an axe. Kanarf took the handle in his hands and heaved it out of the man’s chest with a sickening crack and spurt of blood. He looked down at the axe in his hand, the blood on its head dripping down and the blood from his hands seeping into the cracks in the grain of the wooden handle. Hearing the horses galloping up the hill he raised the axe with a snarl on his face.

Ettan fled into the woods with archers hot on his heels. Arrows flew past the spry young man as he ducked down behind a sturdy pine. He was eighteen, clean shaven and athletic looking. For all his good looks Ettan was haplessly unarmed as the archers crept into the edge of the forest with bows drawn. Ettan’s dark green and brown robe quivered as he heaved his breath in and out attempting to slow his breathing to keep quiet. He adjusted the green cape that hung from broad shoulders as he peeked his with his matching green eye around the tree only to pull it back when an arrow was shot at it. The archers had spotted him and converged on his position. Ettan eyes darted around anxiously for a new place to hide among the pines. He finally looked up and saw a low hanging branch.

Staying hidden behind the tree Ettan gracefully leapt up and scrambled onto the branch then up onto another one higher until Ettan had climbed several yards above his pursuers. The archers searched around for him curious of his disappearance. Ettan lay close to the trunk of the tree replacing his loud heavy breathing with slow deep breaths. The archers continued past the tree and Ettan breathed a sigh of relief until a woman’s cry was heard further in the forest. The archers looked around then made off towards the sound. As soon as the men were out of earshot Ettan began making his way down, carefully placing his feet on branches weary of the pine’s weak limbs. The cry sounded again and Ettan quickened his pace. He finally got down to that first branch he used to get into the tree. He dropped down on it and it broke under his weight sending Ettan plummeting with a yelp. Ettan fell on his side with a grunt and muttered under his breath as he got up. The young man started towards the woman’s screams but stopped himself. He looked back on the branch that fell down with him. Ettan stooped down and scooped it up with a smile. It was just over eight feet long as he stood it up next to himself he was two feet shorter.

Wasting no more time Ettan sprinted off into the forest after his former pursuers carrying his very large stick. Just over a slight hill Ettan saw the commotion. An older woman with long black hair and wearing a dark blue kimono lay with an spear through her leg surrounded by eight raiders, four of which Ettan’s hunters. The archers kept their bows at the ready as a muscular brute hunched over with the woman’s hair twisted in his grip. He pulled her head back and yelled at her in Japanese she wriggled her head fighting his grip. The brutish man grasped the spear and twisted it, the woman screamed in agony and the man shouted at her again.

Ettan gritted his teeth disgusted and he made his way towards the group silently. He came up behind the line of four archers who watched the woman’s torture from the side. He looked up at them as they stood on a mound next to a half buried tree with its twisted dirty roots sticking out every which way below them away from the mound. Ettan slowly dug the thicker end of the branch into a root against a pine trunk. The branch locked in place securely and Ettan bent the thinner end back, poised to slap into the four archers. Ettan whistled sharply The group whipped around looking for where the noise came from but Ettan and his branch were at a lower vantage out of sight. The four archers crawled down the mound curious. Ettan let the branch go and it flicked into the four archers. Ettan leapt at them and beat them down with his bare hands with the expertise of a martial artist. Just as another raider came over to peer down to see what happened, Ettan leapt up with a bow in his hands. Ettan looped the bow around the man’s neck and pulled himself up while throwing the man off the mound. The brutish raider came up and punched at Ettan, who weaved around him trapping the man’s arm in the string while placing the wooden shaft at the back of his head. The man angrily ripped his fist out from the bow string and the string shot into his face. The brute fell over as Ettan removed the bow. The brute started to get back up when Ettan jumped and landed a brutal kick to the back of the head sending the man off the mound into the pile of archers below. Ettan then turned back around and faced three others coming at him with swords drawn.

Ettan forcefully stuck the bow in the ground and waited for his attackers to get closer. As soon as they were in range he pushed down on the top end of the bow and flung a wave of leaves needles and dirt into the oncoming three momentarily stunning them. He swung the shaft of the bow in the left most attacker’s gut then he struck again into the man’s head. Ettan finally poked the man’s eye out with the pointed end of the shaft just as the man to his right swung his sword down at him. Ettan ducked under the sword and came up behind the man. He looped the bow around the man’s head and pulled back on the bow choking the man with the draw string. To Ettan’s dismay the other man caught Ettan in the left shoulder with a careful slice of his sword around his partner. Ettan wrangled his hostage around with the bow avoiding the other man’s sword, but his victim was fighting the bow’s pull and winning as he struggled with Ettan’s strength. He got a grip on the shaft and pulled Ettan into his back and shot an elbow backwards into Ettan’s head. Ettan fell on his back and watched wide eyed as the men aimed their swords to strike down at him.

Just then the man on his left was stabbed through with a spear. The second man spun around to see the old woman lop his head off with her wakizashi. The two men fell over revealing the brutal looking woman with a spear in her right hand and wakizashi in her left. Blood was smeared across her face and her long black hair wildly whipped about her. She staggered back dropping her weapons breathing hard as eased herself down against a tree. She pulled her green katana from her belt to allow her to sit down as Ettan got back up.

“Madam Shimazu! What’s happened to you?” Ettan said impressed by her.

“Ahh…Ettan of the Sommer clan isn’t it? I was hoping you could tell me. I was returning to the castle when I was ambushed. I had been running through the forest for hours until a lucky spear throw caught my leg,” The woman said in broken English as she revealed her mangled leg wound that left her leg hideous and disfigured from the brute’s torture with the spear head.

“Oh my…that’s serious, here I’ll find you something to bind it with,” Ettan said grasping his cloak.

“Never mind, it’s been bleeding for a long time now. Ettan what happened? Please tell me!” The lady urged him.

“I…am at a loss myself. I was down in the village when the castle started on fire and screams of death were heard coming from its halls. Not long after, the raiders attacked, they have been hunting people across the land now...I…am one of the few who escaped.”

“Then you must continue on Ettan. Make for the hidden harbor, leave Japan!”

“Well let’s go then,” Ettan said lowering his hands to scoop her up.

“Wait! No I’ll only slow you down,”

“Madam I will not leave you…I cannot.”

“You must, or you will die!”

“Mistress please understand…my parents were in that castle…my brother too. I have nothing left but the alliance for family,” Ettan said somberly lowering his head and voice.

“Very well, we’re short on time I believe,” The woman said struggling to stand.

Ettan helped her up putting her arm over his shoulder and escorting her through the woods.

“You know they burned the harbor below the castle too, are you sure the hidden harbor wasn’t found either?” Ettan inquired.

“Not sure, but there were ships docked there a few hours ago.”

“Which ones? As you know my family built many of the alliance’s ships.”

“There is only one ship you should be concerned about Ettan. The Asa Tori is moored there!”

“The Asa Tori! That’s the ship designed by the great Zheng He before his death!” Ettan exclaimed.

“Hush child! Yes, it is. It’s also the fastest ship in the all of the eastern kingdoms. If we make it to that ship we’ll have escaped!”

Shouts could be heard from behind them and the two quickened their pace. The woman moaned as her leg was giving out under the pain.

“Come on Mistress you can make it!” Ettan encouraged her as he held her weight across his shoulders.

Suddenly an arrow shot in between them grazing deep into Ettan’s side. He grimaced and fell to his knees in pain while the Mistress Shimazu fell to the side without his help. Ettan looked over at her and saw three arrows running through her chest.

“My lady!” Ettan cried and crawled over to her aghast.

Ettan grasped her hand and held her head up, jaw quivering as he spotted one arrow cutting through her heart.

“Hold on! I won’t let you die here!” Ettan shouted as he spied a large group of raiders charging at them.

“E…Ettan…” The woman gurgled.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I failed you!” Ettan said holding her hand close to his chest trembling.

“Ettan…take my sword…go! Live on!” The woman whispered.

“Your sword!” Ettan gasped. “I can’t take that!”

“Please, it is my final request of you! That sword is more valuable then you can possibly know! Take it and use your knowledge and unlock the power to bring down destruction on our enemies!” The woman said valiantly as she removed the sword and scabbard from her sash.

Ettan reverently took her green hilted katana as she died. Ettan closed her eyes and ran off before the raiders could reach him.

Tradon held his breath as the raiders neared, he heard the birch leaves he was hiding under crumple with every bit of movement the eight year old boy made. He blinked his blue eyes several times as a stray leaf was falling into his face. There was a cave nearby, he bit his lip wishing to run away from all of this. But he obeyed his mother’s command to stay hidden in the leaves until she came back for him for he loved his mother dearly. He sniffed the air, even under the pile of dry moldy leaves the stench of burning needles was difficult to recognize. Tradon nervously looked back at the raiders who were growing ever closer.

“There’s so many of them,” Tradon whispered to himself as he counted twenty raiders advancing towards him spread out as they scanned the forest.

Tradon noticed the scent of burning needles growing stronger, he lowered his eyebrows unsure what was going on. He looked out at the raiders.

“It can’t be them, they aren’t lighting fires…” Tradon murmured.

Suddenly Tradon felt a sharp pain on his shoulder. Tradon yelped and shot his arm through the leaves to slap his shoulder. It hurt as he put pressure on his pained shoulder and he realized the pile he was under was catching on fire. Tradon rolled out of the leaves as the pain increased.

“I’m on fire!” Tradon cried as he rolled around attempting to put out imaginary flames.

One man spotted him and called to the other raiders. Tradon shot his glance back at them and burst up to run away. The raiders gave chase as he raced into the nearby cave.

The cave had a wide opening but wasn’t very deep. Light still pierced through to the end of the cave wall. Tradon hid his body along a lower part of the stone floor where he was hidden from the light. All twenty raiders skulked up to the cave entrance trapping Tradon in. Twelve of the men squeezed in eagerly in search of Tradon while the rest were forced to stay outside unable to fit any more men into the cave entrance.

“Where are you!” One man said in Japanese, his voice echoing around the walls loudly.

“Hush! We can’t hear him with all your noise!”

“Yes be silent Ishida! This cave is so loud we’ll be able to hear him breathe.”

Tradon tensed up into a ball holding his breath praying he wouldn’t be found.

“I just want them all to go away!” Tradon thought to himself.

“Hey! Look outside!” Ishida cried.

The men turned their attention out of the cave and saw the other eight of their group sprawled about on the ground, blood staining the leaves and dirt.

“We’re under attack! How did they kill them so fast!” A man said as the raiders rushed outside to meet their attackers.

The only noise heard was the fires burning all around them.

“Where are they!”

“I don’t see anyone! The fire is too strong!”

“Hey! The fire can’t spread that quickly! Look out! The fire has surrounded us!”

The raiders drew their swords and bows but there was no enemy to be seen, the fire and smoke was too high to see beyond into the forest.

“Steady, the fire will continue on and we can take shelter inside. We’ll be safer in there,” Ishida stated.

Just as Ishida turned back to the cave he looked up at the ground above the cave. There stood a man above them in a long brown coat with a katana in his right hand and a shorter European saber in his left. He had dark brown hair that reached past his ears. Ishida couldn’t see his eyes as they were hidden behind a pair of glasses that reflected the fires below. The man leapt down on top of Ishida plunging both blades behind both his collarbones.

Tradon heard this and peeked out to see blood spray up onto the man as he removed the swords. The other raiders turned around just as them man launched himself at them. The man ripped through them often slicing two men at the same time with his swords but in the crowd it was difficult to see the man as he was constantly moving. The raiders barely had any time to react as the man flew by them with incredible speed. By the time the raiders had realized what was going on only four were left. The man stopped with his sanguine painted swords outstretched as the four nervously held their weapons ready to defend themselves. Inside Tradon crept to the entrance equally amazed and horrified by what the man had done.

“It’s just one guy! Kill him!” One of the larger raiders yelled as he charged forward.

The other three charged after him but the man shot forward in an instant and decapitated their leader and moved onto the rest. He lurched to the right as one raider swung down at him. The man chopped off his sword arm with his saber then his head with the katana. He spun around and sliced another oncoming enemy with both swords across the chest, both swords breaking through his ribs and butchering the organs behind them. The man heard a raider close behind him, flipped his katana over in his hand and stabbed backwards into the raider’s stomach.

“Look out!” Tradon cried from the cave as he pointed to the fourth man further away drawing an arrow back.

The man left his katana in his previous victim ran towards the archer with his saber. The archer released the arrow and it shot towards the man. The man stopped and sliced the arrow in twain with his saber. Tradon’s jaw dropped seeing the shaft of the arrow in two pieces on either side of the brown coated man. The archer angrily reached for another arrow only to have the man raise his saber over his head and throw it at the archer with both hands. The sword landed in the archer’s neck and he collapsed to ground.

The man heaved a sigh and glanced at Tradon who was walking towards him. Tradon stood in awe of him as the fires raged in the background of this man who stood above him covered in blood from the hair on his head to the dirty white tunic under his coat.

“Who are you…” Tradon murmured.

The man turned to him and pushed his glasses up his nose revealing his dark green eyes.

“My name, is Yasac.”