On the first day of the summons, a lanky figure filling a cape–violet, with red interior lining–skirted the edges of the crowd as quickly as the wheeled artwork could be drawn behind her. Eclipse had brought her best clothing for the event. "Departure for independents at Shuttles 6 through 18. Independents at Shuttles 6 through 18.“ Rolling her covered piece onto the crowded bus, Eclipse gathered the rest of her belongings for the journey. She would need to book a living space for herself if she didn’t intend to sleep on the street. Shyly, she inquired of the conductor, “Hello, I was hoping you could tell me why independents and groups are arriving in the city at the same time, if we are meant to present on different days.” An unhelpful snarl was sent her way, and she found herself back in her seat. The wheels of her mind began to turn as the shuttle’s engine vibrated.
Eclipse swallowed hard as the line moved forward. The opening to the inside of the cave appeared larger and larger, and at this point Eclipse could make out the breadth of Aku’s pointed shoulders. Most in the crowd were at this point trembling, moreso the closer they drew toward the front of the line. She could finally see the flames from his eyebrows over their heads. She wanted to hurl, wanted to lunge toward him, wanted to flee, wanted to call out his name, wanted to whimper. Even his tone in accepting tributes was terrifying, perhaps because his voice was so powerful. Whenever he scanned the crowd, she could sometimes look directly into his pupils (though chances were that they were not aimed at anyone specific). Why did he keep scanning the crowd, she wondered. Moonphase kept her eyes hooded and her face expressionless. She knew that she could do nothing to combat her own shaking, but nothing else was going to escape, save that which she rehearsed. With each step forward, and with the thinning of the line, Eclipse’s head grew lighter and lighter. What grace her feet had before turned to small stumbles and scuffed heels. She couldn’t take her eyes off his figure. One presenter in front of her and several steps forward… she was breaths away, heartbeats, seconds. Her legs threatened to give out underneath her; she was concerned that she would faint and shatter her piece right before this beautiful, dangerous being. The presenter in front of her was dismissed, and she was summoned next.
—–
When her turn came, Eclipse had to pry herself from her marveling stare at the Master. I would never get this chance again… if I could just look upon you for but one more second… and with her bare heels together, she hoisted her heavy piece from its wheeled carrier onto a chain and pole, and pulled from it her other cloak. "My Lord Aku, when you choose,” she softly suggested, “wash the image from this piece and use it as a mirror.” She never introduced herself, for she felt that the Master need not be bothered about the details of his guests. Instead, she posed with a unique bow which she invented. She crossed her left hand over her right, placing it over her heart, and extended her left foot forward. As she bowed, the shining curtain of red hair previously concealed by her hood spilled to the floor. One copper strand did not come back up with the rest as she returned to a standing position. Every fragment of her being waited on him–her mind, her muscle, her eyes, her breath, and, occasionally, even her skipping heart.
Despite the number of summoned tribute-bringers, the hush hanging over the line was palpable. Most were too fearful to speak and kept their heads down to avoid drawing the Master’s attention for any reason. Those who whispered too loudly or breathed too heavily were given a hard glare or an elbow to the ribs by those standing within earshot. At the height of tension, a brief skirmish broke out when one person began to crack under pressure and tried to steal the tribute of another. But this was swiftly ended when Aku’s looming guards stepped in with their spear-tipped staffs and dragged both parties away before the spectacle could cause further distraction. Sometimes the summoned were allowed to fight among themselves for the Master’s approval and amusement, but not today. Today there would be no distractions, for the Master was in no mood for them.
As the line moved toward him, Aku studied each face and each tribute brought forth. Although he was fairly satisfied so far — all who came before him were sufficiently fearful for their lives and there hadn’t been a single dissenter nor breath of the Samurai’s name on anyone’s lips, both offenses a cause for severe punishment — Aku was still searching for something, some clue he could not yet identify that would lead him to the answers he desired. Who among these people dared to not fear him? Who among them did not utterly despise him for all that he’d done? Did such a being truly exist? And if so, how?
The line’s slow surge continued forward, every step bringing them closer to Aku’s presence and the deep abyss within which most of his colossal being was concealed. Regardless, his torso, head and horns rose several stories above the stone outcropping that served as an altar before him. Aku’s presence was a thing of its own and palpable in the air to all those who approached. It emanated from him like the invisible waves of a powerful sound just below the threshold of hearing, bombarding the bodies of mortals with its vibrations. But it was still not as thunderous as his commanding voice.
“NEXT.” He dismissed one person and ordered the next before him in the same command. She did not hesitate to present her tribute, hoisting it up for his eyes to see. Aku was silent as his gaze settled on the vibrant colors of the painting, deep blacks and blood reds drawing in his attention before the splash of sakura-petal pink leapt out at him. Yes, indeed, she had captured his likeness quite expertly along with the lone tree he’d left untouched in the faint memory of hope. His focus moved outward, following the detailed frame of the piece filled with objects of the natural earth and heavens. In all his time, Aku could not recall a tribute crafted with so much detail. It would take him a moment to fully absorb.
With an ominous sound of cracking timber, the Master leaned closer. The people in line behind Eclipse grew impossibly silent as they backed away in an attempt to shrink out of existence and avoid becoming his potential snack. Even Aku’s guards fought the urge to flee and remained frozen in place, not daring to breathe. He studied the tribute for a few moments more, a contemplative rumble forming deep in his throat. His eyes narrowed just slightly before shifting to the human maker beside it, studying her just as he’d done her tribute, even noting the moon she wore around her throat. When again he spoke, his voice was amplified even louder at close range.
“What is the meaning of this piece you have brought before me?” he queried. But though Aku had a habit of sounding hostile at all times, his question did not come from a place of malice. It seemed he was either genuinely curious or genuinely suspicious.
The Shogun of Sorrow 