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.
Eclipse shivered as Aku leaned toward her. The crackling sound of timber was magnificent–it sent her eyelashes aflutter, the corners of her mouth upturning, her breaths becoming lighter and more rapid. A sudden awareness of his proximity bubbled up within her. He’s so close!
“Ueh–” She croaked, but could not speak. Ride or die, bitch–you’re in the Master’s house, now–don’t be tryin’ his patience.
I wish I could run, but I’d die on the spot. Oh, Gaia, I could almost reach out and touch him.
She felt herself begin to waver, drawing a sharp breath and extending her foot to support herself. Straightening again, she continued, “Right! I…” Well, that came out a little more forceful than I intended.
She smiled softly, deliberately exuding an air of calm, and extended her right arm to gesture toward the unpainted gash in the background of the image. "This tear in the sky is your m-might–the mark you leave on the world, and the way you fill it. I–I could never do your countenance full justice, but a mirror is the next best thing.“ I can’t… I can’t tell him the complete meaning–that it’s supposed to represent his place in the universe. He’s part of the universe, just like the rest of us. As birds communicate, as planets dance, so do we–oh, there are already so many signs and symbols in the frame. None of that is a part of his order. This inky creature fell from the heavens, torched a man-made city, and built a bigger one on top of it. "So… I hope… that these colors might run together to magnify your power, my Lord.” In her attempts to neither give too much away nor spare too little, Eclipse had managed to completely butcher her intended message. What an absolute waste of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Moonphase was beyond disappointed; she was internally facepalming as she finished speaking, but a frightened little Sunphase held the joystick–such was always the case during instances of intense emotion. Please, let this be over as soon as possible. She forced herself to look the Youkai in the eye.
“Mmmhhhh…,” Aku rumbled as he considered her words. His own interpretation of the piece suggested his dominion over the earth and the heavens but her explanation neither confirmed nor denied this.
While his massive face continued to hover nearby, the demon’s nostrils flared as he drew in a breath but there was so much fear swirling in the air from all those present, it overpowered his senses and he couldn’t pick up anything identifiable about the woman in the midnight hood. Slowly, and with the same ominous sounds of creaking, Aku straightened once again to full height as he held the stranger in his sights. On his face was a look of dissatisfaction like he had not yet found that which he sought. Suddenly, his gaze shifted from her to his guards standing nearby.
“DETAIN HER,” he roared, “For further questioning!” Aku’s guards leapt within their own skin and three of them sprang into action, flanking Eclipse on both sides and cutting off her route to escape behind her, their weapons drawn. Two more guards gingerly collected her tribute to place with the rest while the artist was marched away to be placed in a holding cell deep within the Master’s fiery fortress. The crowd behind her watched in deathly silence as she was escorted away.
As his guards took her to be placed in holding, Aku continued the viewing of the summons with an Earth-rattling shout. “NEXT!”
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.
Eclipse spotted the first item on her list when the commotion down the cobbled street drew her eye. An organized line of blue-clad minions demanded the crowd’s attention.
“Districts nineteen through eighty-five and two-hundred-seven through three-hundred-forty-six will be screened. Extracted members will be escorted directly to Aku City for an in-person audience with the Master. Proceed to your registry stations along the docks. You will be notified within four hours of your submission as to whether a summons is required of you at this time.”
The girl’s mind raced (and bumped into many things on its way to, well, absolutely nowhere).
I have to get out of town!
No, they’d know if someone left–such action has been punished with death in the past.
I’ve finished my piece, but is it enough? I wanted to go all perfectionist on it.
Fucking LIT! We are finally making our way toward Aku!
What if I am chosen?
I have several pieces across four of the mentioned districts; this is a good thing. If I fail, I die, and I get to check out of this world early.
I could also end up in a lot of pain for a very long time.
The Master probably just got bored and required a pick-me-up.
A pick-me-up to this scale, are you insane!?
That gorgeous alien is gonna be so shook when he sees what I made for him.
I have never, in my life, heard of a summons collecting members from over half an entire coastline before!
This can only be bad news…
Or just news.
She filed neatly and politely into the lines forming at canvas tents stationed at the docks. She reluctantly surrendered information about her recent residences and future travel plans before finishing her shopping and returning to her trees to await the consensus. I’ve dodged this before, I’ve dodged this before, I’ve signed up before and I’ve still dodged it.
As the sun began to sink into the inland-bound fog, three heavy knocks shattered the tense, stagnant silence of Eclipse’s cabin. Three minions, whose full height surpassed her doorway, stood vigilant. Their emissary’s tone was militant and straightforward. “Eclipse of the North, you are among three thousand fortuitous others who have been summoned to The Tower in Central Aku City for a direct audience with the Master on the third and final day of his extended summons. Here is your ticket–you and your tribute or tributes will be provided a one-way shuttle to the central gate. You must check in to your city registry tomorrow by noon; the shuttle will depart shortly afterward. No-shows will be tracked down and executed. Once you have entered the city, proceed until parties and independents are separated at the central gate. A second shuttle will elevate you and the two hundred other independents to the mouth of the tower once the groups from previous days have finished presenting. You will find yourselves at his mercy.”
Her door was shut for her; she looked numbly down at the embossed card held lightly between her fingers. Guess I’m an independent. Gotta count myself lucky that I wasn’t involved in a group project. I wonder if he’s waiting on us right now…
[ Three days earlier… ]
The time of summons was underway and Aku had just finished viewing the day’s final tribute at his towering citadel. It had come from a refugee colony known for their metal works. Built from precision and fear, it was a singular column of coal-black wrought iron in the shape of Aku’s fearsome silhouette. A pair of lit torches blazed at its top to symbolize his great eyebrows. The metalworkers cowered behind it on their knees, their heads bowed and hearts pounding in their ears as the Master’s judging gaze swept over them and the tribute they presented with the speed and weight of a continental glacier.
With eyes that could incinerate whole villages, Aku let his heavy gaze be felt by all who came before him. Not only did he judge their tribute but he judged their demeanor, their gestures, the looks in their eyes, their tone of voice and even their scent. The group before him radiated with the scent of fear and cold sweat that grew in intensity the longer his silence persisted. Their tense muscles had seemed almost to leap from beneath their skin when Aku’s thunderous voice shattered the silence: “Your tribute meets the approval of the almighty Aku. You may return to your village at once.”
After the metalworkers had made their exit, staggering on their feet in fear and cautious relief, Aku shrank himself to a more reasonable stature and returned to his throne. There waiting on the armrest for his perusal was a small stack of letters. Much of the mail he received was pre-sorted for him by his tireless secretary slaves based on their content and filed away or destroyed. Some were requests, others were offers, and most were junk. But there were a few that fit into no particular category which he often read himself. Settling into his throne, he began the tedious process of reading through each one and boredly burning those that did not hold his interest between ignited fingertips.
When he reached the final envelope with its wax seal and read the letter therein, a flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. He re-read the neatly written words and pondered the impossible suggestion they presented. What was this? A veiled joke? Some kind of insult? His eyes narrowed and snarly ridges creased his brow and nose.
“Pah!” the yokai scoffed aloud. His claw tips singed the bottom corner of the parchment as he prepared to send the letter up in smoke… but he stopped just short. What if there was truth in these words? Aku shifted on his throne and gave his fiery red beard a contemplative stroke. Then he brought the letter to his face and inhaled its scent, nostrils flaring as he received hints of moss, stone and forest. His eyes passed over the letter once more. ’Look for us among those who present tribute…’ After a moment of reflection, he summoned a minion to his throne and passed both the letter and its envelope into his hands with a singular order:
“Find me the author of this letter.”
“Yes, Lord Aku!” the minion bowed before taking his leave in a rush to fulfill his duty. Aku leaned into the arm of his throne, his claws curled around the base of his jaw. I will look for you.
The Shogun of Sorrow 