Kayu chose the location for the altar carefully, at the nexus between the leylines of the land and those of the sea. No matter how formal her robes or how neatly they were arranged about her, to an untrained eye she was simply a maiden of seventeen years, seated in the middle of concentric circles of powdered alabaster sprinkled upon the raised wooden dais. Only the attuned would perceive the potent vortex of arcane force that spiralled from her lap into the skies above, and the eldritch glow of the meticulously aligned symbols.
The taikyokuzu formed the central sphere, geometric nested circles symbolising the duality of light and dark that was the central tenet to her incarnate discipline. In close proximity sat the eight trigrams, representing the fundamental principles of reality, each consisting of three horizontal lines either broken or unbroken. The outermost layer encompassed the four elements, fire and water, earth and wind, laid out at each of the cardinal directions. It was one of the simplest circles of power she knew, but also one of the most effective and efficient; it took her only three days to sanctify and prepare the makeshift location, whereas a more complex circle might have taken her weeks. And that was in tandem with ten other spellweavers, now arrayed outside the circle helping to focus mana, giving her their aid.
The vanguard of the retreat approached late in the morning of the fourth day, bedraggled soldiers and defeated generals, most of who were either wounded or carrying somebody who was. The rain started to fall then, only adding to their misery as they crowded aboard the wallowing vessels they hoped would take them home. But at the same time the wind died, and two hundred sails lay limp and lifeless as they sheltered between the protective arms of the high bluffs.
By afternoon the hostilities drew close, and she could just about discern the banners on top of the cliffs that guarded the approach to the harbour. They ebbed and flowed with the tide of battle, gradually inching towards her like hesitant snails. Lord Kuroda’s blue hawk fell, and the black hibiscus of Lord Kato not long after. By that time, however, other more pressing matters demanded her attention. The allied armies committed their aerial brigades to the assault, and all that kept them from wreaking havoc in the harbour was her hemispherical shield of arcane energy, radiating like a shimmering haze from cliff-top to cliff-top like an upturned bowl, inland half a league and equally distant outwards into the sea. The cleft in the cliffs through which the Nipponese armies were retreating was the only gap she left in her protection.
That night was strangely quiet. The rain fell in fits and drizzles, but the wind never once picked up. Heavy clouds loomed overhead, concealing the occasional skirmisher as they probed her defences, and only her constant vigilance prevented any from sneaking through to sabotage the vulnerable troopships. Every moment she and the Nipponese armies bought was a chance for more of their fellows to escape, but every moment they remained in harbour was an opportunity for the powerful Choson fleet to head them off beyond the headland.
The breakthrough finally came on the fifth day.
Power erupted within the radius of her command, power that she had neither expected nor authorised. It registered in her mind like a dark flame, powerful and intense; her eyes fluttered open in shock, and she very nearly let her focus slip. As she fought to maintain precarious control over the whiplashing haze of eldritch force, a small voice in the back of her mind realised where she’d felt that particular power before.
Look, a dragon.
It rose from the cliffs like an ascendant god, bellowing defiance to the grey skies. Darkly intelligent eyes surveyed the ranks of warriors arrayed before him, ashy smoke gathering at the corners of its wedge-shaped head and rising like twin pyres into the low cloud. As rain pelted from its crimson scales with angry hisses and puffs of steam, it angled its sinuous form away from the harbour, powerful beats of its wings keeping its bulky mass hovering in place. Gasps of silent awe echoed all around, both armies – one desperately trying to maintain an orderly retreat, the other triumphantly pressing the pursuit – reacting in exactly the same manner.
“Dragon! Look, a dragon!”
The mythologies of Cathay and Choson had much in common with that of Nippon, and amongst the shared concepts was the veneration of dragons as figures of great wisdom and power, bringers of rainfall and good fortune. And what a majestic dragon this particular specimen was. Most Oriental dragons were tatsu, graceful lithe serpents that could fly without wings, guardians of rivers and lakes. They were powerful, intelligent foes, but not capable of laying waste to entire armies on their own. Only a very few had the capacity for such devastation; only a very few were true ryu. This was one of them.
It quickly became very obvious which side this particular dragon favoured.
With a heaven-rending crash it landed in the midst of the allied wedge, lashing out in all directions with fangs and talons and tail. The tall cliffs prevented her from witnessing the carnage it wrought, but she could track the ebb of emotions as they influenced the nearby leylines. The sour tinge of fear, mixed with the adrenaline rush of alarm and the cruel cold of hate; each caused the flowing rivers of mana in ground and air to shudder in different ways, plucking equivalently unique chords upon her heart. If she thought the desperation of battle was soul-destroying, then the panic of a one-sided slaughter was far worse.
Concentrate, Kayu. You have a job to do.
Her mental admonishment came just in time. The allied aerial brigade chose that precise moment to renew their assault, seeking to take advantage of the distraction. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth, concentration digging deep furrows across her forehead and between her eyes, and the intricately inscribed circles surrounding her pulsated white-hot in response. The haze overhead seemed to shimmer and ripple as she channelled fresh mana, repulsing and denying the chimaeric beasts and their riders yet again. Frustrated cries echoed above the pelting raindrops as they circled helplessly.
Then, as if by unheard command, they changed tactics. As one they folded their raven-like wings and dove, streaking like a flock of black lightning bolts towards the mythical monster that had singly thrown their vanguard into disarray. The crimson dragon saw them coming and rose to meet them, a plume of dark flame preceding its ascent into the skies. The two forces met in a violent clash halfway, impacting momentum knocking breaths from lungs, talons flashing and teeth glinting as black feathers rained upon the melee below.
The brutal fight was over in a matter of moments. The dragon was left scarred and bleeding, but its opponents were beaten and scattered. A triumphant roar reverberated across the bay, driving away even the relentless rain for the briefest of moments. As one, the allied armies turned to flee, panic taking hold and propagating infectiously. Within heartbeats, despite the best efforts of their commanders, they were in rout.
Kayu watched it all from the safety of her circle, almost forgetting to breathe as the glyphs gradually faded and cooled around her. Twenty long hours of battle without food or sleep had taken their toll, and only then did she regain awareness of herself and her immediate surroundings. Her silken black hair was limp and damp, her robes soaked through with tears from the heavens and spray from the sea, and the only reason she was not shivering from cold was because she had allowed herself to forget that she actually possessed limbs. Fully half of the other spellweavers had already collapsed from exertion, and those that remained were skeletal husks barely recognisable as human.
Part of her mind feared to think what she must look like at the moment. The remainder, however, realised that it didn’t matter. A feathery caress touched upon her wet cheeks, gradually growing in intensity until the assembled sails strained and billowed at their tethers.
Wind! she thought exultantly, a cry that was almost immediately taken up by the soldiers assembled on board the ships. Home!
Truly, the dragon was a bringer of good fortune.