Siinji - Or, Ankūro and the City of the Golden Boughs

31

31

Desperation serves,
Where rational thought will fail.
A last hopeless hope.
- Momiji.

The wind had become almost as strong as a hurricane, roaring around and around the dome. A cloud had begun to pour through the half-open doors, rising to the roof and circulating, black and heavy and still the doors continued their inexorable progress to becoming fully open, allowing the rage of the Maelstrom to find purchase outside of its normal place within the Inland Sea.

Ankūro remained on one knee, her swords embedded in the chests of her two opponents. Sakicho hung, lifeless, impaled on the old woman's ordinary sword and, even from a distance, Yurivno could see deep notches in the blade, suffered from parrying the Kinishima sword that now hung from Akemio's limp fingers. He still lived, though for how long, Yurivno could not guess.

Then a strong gust of wind grabbed at Sakicho. It pulled at the body of the boy-warrior, moving him until the sword in his chest snapped and the body of Sakicho became torn away, dragged through the air by unnatural winds. The old woman dropped the broken sword, grabbing hold of Akemio's jacket, adding their weight together.

Sakicho's body became flung around the room until the winds dragged him up, along the wall and then out of the windowless, arched opening in the wall, disappearing from sight as the cloud flowed out of the window alongside him. The old woman stared into the dying eyes of Akemio, but her eyes showed nothing. No hatred. No contempt. No pity.

As the winds passed her by, releasing her from the pull of invisible fingers, she reached down to Akemio's hand, taking the Kinishima sword from his fingers. She returned it to its scabbard and took it from the man. Hers once more. Pulling out her walking stick sword from his chest, she let him fall to the side, blood pouring from his wound, and put that sword, almost as notched as the other, broken one, back into its wooden scabbard.

Fighting against the winds, the old woman struggled to reach Yurivno and Tuccé at the metal structure of the lift. She tried to untie them both, but her fingers, tired through fighting, could not undo the bonds. In a fit of frustration, she drew the Kinishima sword and slashed down, slicing through rope and metal alike, releasing both Yurivno and Tuccé.

"The altar! We must close the doors or all of Kaguta could become lost!" Holding on to the old woman, Yurivno cringed as she heard the metal of the lift structure screech and groan. "We have to!"

The old woman's grunt flashed away as the wind rose once more. She looked over to Drellis, his hands gripping the altar to keep himself steady. The man's eyes moved across the surface of the metal cover, searching for the correct keyhole, but the wind blew into his eyes, causing him to blink. Then, a powerful gust of wind caught Drellis, ripping his fingers from the altar and flinging him through the air, smashing him against the curving stone steps, where he lay, unmoving.

Now the old woman moved towards the altar, pressing forward in slow, faltering steps, one hand pressing against the leg Sakicho had dug his sword into. Somehow, through sheer force of will, she made it and began to stare at the dozens of holes in the surface of the cover, unable to understand any of what she saw.

Yurivno, too, made her way to the altar, hand held before her face, shielding herself from the wind. She fought for breath as she fought for every step. She only knew Tuccé had joined her when she felt Ankūro's heavy sack hit her as they arrived at the altar, just as a bolt of lightning exploded from the doors, flashing across the room to hit the structure of the lift where they had only a second before sat, tied against. The lightning coruscated across the surface of the lift.

Then, an unholy screech filled the room, overwhelming even the roar of the winds. Yurivno looked back to see the metal lift begin to buckle, twist and crumple in on itself. Within seconds, something broke, sending the metal box of the lift crashing down through the shaft. Down to the huge domed room below. Then she noticed cracks forming on the structure of this dome, spidering outwards, touching each other, combining, as the smooth stone began to crumble and fall to the floor.