Yukiana woke later that day, and as the sun had been upon her while she slept, her initial vision was blinded by light. While waiting for her vision to return to her, she stretched and sat up from where she had rested.

  “Oi! She’s up! Make sure she doesn’t get away!”

  The sound of voices came from nearby. Stunned by the unexpected sound of men, Yukiana blinked frantically to try and regain her sight. As it slowly returned, she could see indistinct images dashing towards her. Her impulse was to run, but she knew from the sound of waves that the ocean was behind her. Dreading to attempt the waters after what had just happened, she froze and accepted the fact that these people would catch her. She could only hope that they would be friendly, though her instincts told her otherwise.

  She glanced down towards where Tanuki had been sleeping and found that there was an indentation in the sand, but no furry body to accompany it. She then looked over at where the box containing the signet rings had sat. That was gone as well.

  “He must have gone,” she thought. “But why would he leave me?”

  Yuki counted eight men that surrounded her, now that her vision had mostly returned. They were garbed in a peculiar grey uniform and seemed more like monks than samurai or even barbarians. They carefully encircled her, with spears at the ready before one moved ahead and made himself known to her.

  “Who are you, lass? Give us your name and your reason for being here,” the leader commanded, with a particular mustache and a menacing gleam in his eyes.

  “I…” Yuki began. “I am Masaki Yukiana,” she said, at last, seeing no reason to lie. “Who are you?”

  The leader of the grey monks seemed puzzled and contorted his face as he was deep in thought. “Masaki?” he repeated. “I don’t know anything about a Masaki. Tell me, who are you with?”

  “Respectfully, you did not answer my question,” Yukiana countered.

  “I am not beholden to answer you, girl,” the leader retorted. “But since I am feeling generous, I shall. I am Kumon of the Hairohi. There, now you have it.”

  “Kumon? Hairohi?” Yuki wondered. “Who is that and what are they?”

  Kumon seemed to be able to read the confusion on her face, as he brusquely continued. “You aren’t a ninja then, that is plain. And they were supposed to be off a while ago anyway. So, my question is, what are you doing here, and how did you get past my defenses?”

  Yuki could not think of a lie to conceal her mission, so she deflected. “My reasons are my own for coming here, but I did not come by stealth or subterfuge. I came freely to this place and that is the way I intend to depart.”

  Kumon scowled at this and then glared back at his compatriots. “You fools! How could you let this insolent brat get on the beach? Must be getting lax on the night watch would be my guess.”

  “No sir,” one of the men replied. “We have been utterly diligent. The only thing that passes by us is the local wildlife, and even some of those we take for game.”

  “Then explain how this little whelp got through?” Kumon barked. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear your excuses. The good news is, we got her before it was too late.”

  “Then shall we kill her now?” one of the Hairohi asked, raising his lance a little higher.

  At this, Yuki’s blood chilled. She knew that she was in danger, but did not realize until then what kind of danger she was in. The words of Sōichirō returned to her, about sending his best scouts and them not returning. She now suspected why they had not come back.

  “No, no! Not right yet! Does she look like the typical scout? This has got to be one of the Lady’s servants, come to make sure we are doing our job. She got by us, didn’t she?”

  This was the alibi that Yuki was looking for, and she pushed into it right away. She let out a long sigh and put a look of extreme disappointment on her face. “That’s right. Now let me report back to the Lady. Speed me on my way, and I’ll give you a finer report than you deserve.”

  Kumon, seeming unmoved by her reply, held up one hand to stop her from proceeding. “Nay, lass, that I cannot do. This may be another one of the Lady’s tricks, and now that we’ve caught you, I propose that you remain caught until I get written confirmation that it’s proper to send you back. I don’t want to be getting in trouble for letting you go, Lady’s servant or not.”

  Yuki glared at him but knew protesting would probably make it worse. She glanced upwards once again, but this time saw nothing. “Very well,” she conceded dejectedly, as they bound her wrists with rough rope.

  “I am sorry, lass, but this cannot be helped,” Kumon said with a sick look on his face once she was securely bound. With that, a lightning bolt of pain shot across the back of her head, and she saw no more.

  When Yukiana came to, it was in the cold, dark confines of a cell. Despite the persisting pain, throbbing headache, and faint hum in her ears, she instinctively knew she was imprisoned and began to sort everything else from there.

  Of all possible outcomes, being knocked out was by far the worst, because once she was incapacitated, she had no chance of escape. Every moment that passed was less time to return to Sōichirō, and even with the daimyō’s signet rings, it would matter little if the two clans had already destroyed each other.

  She peered around at the stark walls of her cell and could see nothing but a shut door, and across from that a small grate to let in fresh air and a modicum of sunlight.

  How long she had been in the cell was hard to say. It could have been a day or more. She could no longer hear the ocean, so she had to be some distance from the sea. But she knew she could not be too far from where she had been taken, as these Hairohi were supposedly watching over the land, and could not do so unless they were close to Shinohara Beach.

  She made to stand up, but it took her several moments to recover her balance. Her head still hurt from the blow, but she dared not touch it in case it made it worse. She staggered to the door to check its integrity. As expected, it was locked and would not budge. She put her ear to the door, to see if she could hear anything. She did not detect a guard posted outside. This was fortunate, for if Tanuki returned, he would not be easily spotted.

  She then went to the small grate, which was no more than the width of both of her hands across. It was high up on the wall, so she had to stand on her toes just to see outside. She could see dense foliage and tall pines, signifying that she was somewhere deep in the forest. She could smell the vegetal scent of moss, and the air had a cool, yet moist tinge.

  “Tanuki!” she whispered, trying to project her voice out of the grate and beyond.

  Yuki held her breath for a few moments, hoping to hear his familiar voice return to her, but nothing came. She attempted a few more times, but none yielded success. Worried that she might attract some attention from a nearby guard, she decided to wait until he came to her.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  She sat down in the corner of the cell and closed her eyes. She meditated for several minutes, considering her options. “Tanuki will come. He has saved me before. He would not let harm come to me. But then the words of the former Sage came back to her. ‘I have seen enough. You have mettle, and that, my dear girl, is the most important thing.’”

  Yuki rose again and searched inside her obi for the bag containing shinou seeds. Luckily, she still had the bag, but there were only a few seeds left within. She took one, mashing it between her teeth and then swallowed it down. It had an astringent taste that she did not quite like but knew the power it gave her and focused her energies upon a form.

  But before she was able to achieve clarity, the sound of footsteps approaching her cell could be heard, distracting her from being able to concentrate. A lock was disengaged, and several of the Hairohi stepped inside.

  The leader, upon seeing Yuki, rubbed his chin. “Ah, I see that you’re awake.” He said this wryly and held back a smile.

  Yuki managed to stare back at him but did not answer.

  “I don’t know how to say this,” he continued. “But I sent word to the higher-ups, and word came back. They were not expecting any of the Lady’s foxes here, and my boss seriously doubts that she would send one without him knowing. That means that you are lying. So, I’ll ask one last time, who are you and why are you here?”

  Yukiana managed to force herself to her feet. “As I said before, I am Masaki Yukiana. I came here to investigate what truly happened during the Battle of Shinohara Beach. I have seen much and know fully well what monsters were called into battle that day.”

  A look of intense surprise passed Kumon’s shaved face. “Well, well. A spy, is it? But one different than we originally thought. I should tell you that we do not take kindly to spies, especially women. You will have to be punished for your intrusion. Your presence among us is both a stain and a snare. We value our purity, but this far into the woods, men can be led astray. Therefore, this must be dealt with quickly. We shall offer you up to our gods.”

  The acolytes around Kumon began to bob their heads in agreement.

  “Again, I am sorry for what is about to happen, but it cannot be helped.” He then looked over at his followers. “Bind her and make ready for the sacrifice. We shall have a Ritual of Blessing to perform today.”

  Kumon departed, and his band of followers closed in on Yukiana. She did not try to flee but allowed herself to be bound once again. She was then forced out of the cell, and through what appeared to be an abandoned wooden building. Upon exiting the building, Yuki saw that this band of Hairohi had commandeered a forest village, and that she had been held in a repurposed inn. Whether the village had been abandoned or ravished by the Hairohi, she could not tell. Everyone in the vicinity was garbed in drab grey uniforms and they eyed her with a look of austere menace.

  She was brought to what she thought was the center of the village, where several houses were crowded about making a kind of town square. In the center, there was a wooden post, and she was brought to it and tied tightly against it.

  The Hairohi were silent in their work and said nothing to her. When they were finished, they backed away but remained in the square and held vigil. The sun was falling in the sky, indicating that yet another day had come and was soon to be gone. Gradually, the Hairohi began to congregate in the square, with Yukiana held in the very center.

  At first there was a dozen, then two dozen, then the throng grew to perhaps fifty men. They said little, only faint whispers could be heard, but their eyes spoke volumes, as their lust and excitement began to heighten.

  Kumon then entered the crowd, this time wearing a greater, ceremonial robe and hand in his hand he held a crooked dagger. Yukiana had read about these kinds of sects, those who worshipped the Akuma or the yomi. They were reported to life in the far corners of the Islands, but she never had thought she would end up as one of their sacrifices.

  Her eyes had been searching the skies for signs of Tanuki, or even Taka to aid her. But now as Kumon approached her, she knew their help might not be enough.

  “Here we have a spy, an infidel! Her death will cover us and our sins!” Kumon intoned. “May the Akuma himself hear our prayers and grant us power when we die, or he rises again.”

  The congregation affirmed this with a guttural, “Hm,” and then the dagger was drawn from its sheath.

  “May the blood cover us,” Kumon intoned.

  “May the blood over us,” was the collective repose.

  “I can do this,” Yukiana thought. “I must do this! Once she had given up on Tanuki’s rescue, she devoted her mind to a singular thought. She knew that none of the forms she had used before would do, she had to try something different. This would once again be a first, but with the threat of death upon her, she crystallized the thought in her mind’s eye and then let it expand. The astringent tinge still lingered in her mouth, and the prickle of energy began to cover her skin.

  Kumon held up the dagger in a gesture of finality, stepping directly in front of Yukiana. His eyes were cold, even hollow, as he looked upon her once last time. Then he closed his eyes serenely.

  “Thank you for your sacrifice,” he said, as he brought the blade down. The monk’s eyes quickly shot back open. Something was wrong, his blade did not land upon the supple neck of the young girl in front of him. Instead, it had followed through and had plunged deep into his thigh.

  “Gah!” he instinctively howled and then stumbled backwards.

  The girl, who was just a moment before him, had disappeared. And in his face, he felt the faint wind of a hawk’s wings as the creature rose into the air.

  All were stunned at the sight, and soon, cries began to ring out in the village square. Some called her a witch, some called her a kami, and others knelt and bowed their heads, knowing that they had witnessed some great power that they could not comprehend.

  Yuki, however, was panicking. She knew that such a transformation was her only choice, but now that it had occurred, and she was able to rise above her captors on true wings, she was not very sure what to do next.

  She continued to flap her wings, repeatedly, rising higher in the sky.

  “What happens when I stop?” she thought. She had not planned that far, but would rather take her chances in the air, than at the stake of the foul acolytes.

  The monks gradually became smaller and smaller in her sight, until they, like grains of sand, seemed to fade to insignificance.

  She then let herself set her gaze upon the lands thereabout, and what she saw astounded her. Never in her entire life had she beheld such a vision. She could see for what felt like forever. Trees, forests, peaks mountains, clouds, and the radiance of a falling sun and Nakashima displayed before her like never before. The Hawk’s Perch in the New Capital was nothing compared to this, and Yuki could not help but laugh inside, for she was now indeed a hawk. If she were to die, the sting would not be so bitter after this breathtaking view.

  She remembered the story of the Shinjin, who had ascended Mount Daisen in the days of old. She remembered how it was said that he pitied the people of these lands, laying under the dominion of the Akuma. She realized that she felt the same.

  Eventually, she found it harder to rise, for her arms or wings were burning with exhaustion, and she was finding it harder to breathe. She knew from observation that birds did not have to move their wings constantly to fly but soared effortlessly.

  “I have to give in. I have to trust this form,” she told herself.

  She took in one final breath, stopped moving, and then felt herself fall. Her head tipped forward, and she began the dive. Wind rushed up at her like a hurricane, but she concentrated her mind on the angle of her wings.

  “Come on,” she urged herself. “You can do it!”

  However, as she was confronted with the reality of the great earth below rising towards her, terror overcame her, and she faltered. One wing tilted, the other crumpled, and she began to spin out of control. Eventually, her wings had returned to arms, her tailfeathers back to legs.

  The roar of air was now deafening, and she could do nothing but fall.

  “Help!” she cried out intrinsically.

  She did not expect an answer, but one came in the form of a piercing screech. Another hawk was diving beside her, and she could quickly perceive the darkened hue around the eyes, indicating that this was indeed her kami, Tanuki.

  “Yuki!” came his voice within her mind. “I cannot transform you and keep my own!” In his black eyes was the look of grave concern, but also that of belief.

  “I must do it,” Yuki answered him. “This time it has to be me.”

  Focusing once again, she felt the transformation come upon her, and then, opening her hawk eyes, saw that she had only a moment left to decide. Giving in to her transformation’s instincts, she angled her wings and tailfeathers, held her breath, and felt the power of the wind do the rest of the work for her.

  For the first time in her life, she could accurately say that she was flying. Below, she observed the trees passing by like white water on a river. Ahead was the pale sky, and beyond a rising crescent moon. She glanced over at Tanuki, who bowed his avian head slightly. She then noticed that in his talons he carried the lacquered box, gleaming in the moonlight.

  Whether her kami was prevented from meeting her sooner or had waited for her to press into her powers, she was not sure. But did didn’t matter anymore, she had done it, and as they continued to fly over the land, hope began to rise within her.

  “We can do this,” she thought. “I can do this.”