The black sky wept cold rain that clouded the dense forests of Riza in a grim haze. The Kingdom of Riza stretched as far as any wanderer could survive and was coated with thick woodlands where the shacks, monasteries and mud roads lay hidden beneath the sea of leaves and branches.

The dense rain, which came once a year, drowned out the crops, plants, and the sound of the footsteps of the man who slowly walked drenched in it. His eyes were jagged and shaded by strands of sagging black hair. The man’s chin was boxy and jutted out in front of his olive colored face. His black gloves were accompanied by ebony armor that was decorated with blue vein like streaks, which stretched from his chest to his ankles.

Strapped to his back lay an ash colored sword that extended from his torso to the base of his neck. Black string was tied around an equally dark sheath and handle, which was separated by a metal hilt.

A branch snapped from the leaf roof above, viciously falling toward the man only to be greeted by his steel blade, which split it in half before it sunk into the muddy road. The man stood still with his sword fully extended and legs crouched. He slowly began to stand upright bringing the sword blade before his eyes.

He stared blankly at the silver iron that had been folded hundreds of times to forge a blade with the stains of an even larger number of lives. Deep in thought he considered the rain, which washed the blood off his blade yet cast puddles that still reflected the violence and deficiency of the very environment where the blood was drawn.  The man slowly sheathed his sword behind his back and gazed darkly into the distance. His eyes drooped as he listened to the sound of the rain tickle the woodlands.

Slowly a tall, blotched, and jagged figure appeared in the distance with long hair that waved in the cold forest wind. The shadowy form hesitated, breaking the cadence of its footsteps and coming to a menacing halt. The man gazed through the dense fog, analyzing the eyes that intently stared at him. His stomach tightened as he noticed the blade that poked its tip above the figures shoulder. In a split instant the dark form charged forward fiercely through wind that seemed to roar with each step. The man snapped his blade before his head in defense while the shadowy figure continued to jet towards him. The man’s eyes twitched, his muscles tightened and with the splash of mud the man’s oldest friend halted, leaving him off balance… 

Their eyes stung as they exchanged a piercing stare. Motionless, dialogue finally penetrated the sound of the barrage of water pellets, disturbing the loneliness and desolation that comfortably dwelled within their hearts.

Under his breath the man’s friend spoke as though he were revealing a forbidden and dark secret, fearful that even surrounding tree’s might hear him.

“You haven’t changed in 3 years Kairo”

The rare sound of a human voice startled Kairo making him twitch and feel uneasy. Slowly he replied:

“Neither have you, although madly sprinting toward a Firo swordsman is quite a bold move. Ohanzee, you of all people should know that.”

Ohanzee stared into the eyes of Kairo, perplexed, before letting out a roar of laughter that seemed to form an unorganized duet with the rain, as if one were trying to shout louder than the other.

Finally Ohanzee responded, “How very serious of you Kairo. Perhaps you were frightened. Perhaps you have heard the tales of my fantastic bloody ventures in the west.”

He paused, flailing his arm to his side as if he were a musical conductor trying to orchestrate a nonexistent band. The faint smile that crawled across his face withered into a frown as he continued.

“Although… from what I hear... you have made quite a name for yourself in the Emperor’s latest bloodbath offshore.”

He paused again as he licked his lips and stared at the ground in avoidance of Kairo’s narrowed eyes, which now intensely stared at him. 

“But… that is after all… the reason you’re here. Is it not?” Ohanzee said, speaking in a grave voice, tainted with something of regret. Kairo’s voice finally stood to counter Ohanzee as he clenched his fist, holding it to the center of his chest as if he was attempting to hide a precious jewel.

“Yes, it has been years since High Priest Ahmos called for an assembly. I confess that I did not expect to see you or any other Firo soldiers on their way to this gathering. In fact I can say I am surprised to see myself here. You have seen and likely drawn the blood that now stains the far reaches of this Kingdom. It has become quite clear… the Emperor has finally lost his mind.”

Ohanzee’s eyes narrowed as he swung violently at the wet grass that lay below his feet. “I know” he replied, “It’s been my suspicion for many years now”. He paused, slowly pacing back and forth off balance. “I was there Kairo… I saw the cold black rock of his fortress in the distance as his men pillaged through villages, engulfing once thriving farms in flames. He is nothing more than a senile old man with too much power in the reach of his trigger finger. The very insides of his castle are just as bleak and desolate as the unfortunate land that he has touched. He now lies in the throne room, as his “creatures” maraud through the halls, the emperor’s prisoners of war all but forgotten in their cells.” Kairo’s face remained stern and unimpressed.

Still, Ohanzee’s smile widened. “I would carve my sword through that dog’s wig!” he proclaimed. “I want to see his head roll across his marble floor Kairo, don’t you get it!” He began to chuckle to himself again as he stumbled drunkenly backwards. Still, Kairo’s face remained unaltered, as if it were frozen still, lost forever in the deepest dungeons and canyons of the mind. The rain continued to fall, and after a moment’s silence, Kairo’s eyes snapped upward into Ohanzee’s.

“And what will YOU do when the emperor’s throat is cut and his body lifeless? Who will sit in the vacant iron chair and build up the broken dams that have allowed blood to flow through this ---- empire all too smoothly.” Ohanzee paused sparing a rare moment of thought before his mouth opened once again.

“Interesting… I have been wrestling with… ideas… in my head… about how to proceed when he is…” He paused again, carefully re thinking his words.

“Kairo, Riza has become a war torn hell. Not a year goes by without violent conflict, or a famine, or some hellish disaster designed by demons themselves to take our very best men. Only when… only after a period of terrible disaster, like what Riza is experiencing now, does a population get the opportunity to reform and change the world they live in for the better. Kairo… it would be irresponsible to hand off the throne to yet another hollow headed war mongering high priest.”

Kairo intervened, “Knowing you, all too well and all too little, I can only assume that you do not intend to simply polish a new democratic republic atop the ashes of a fallen one.”

“A traumatized population is a stupid and reactionary one, we need stable leadership under stable philosophies… Somebody, who is responsible and morally competent enough, needs to assume the throne… with or without the support of the “people.” Still, I am no fool… I recognize the threat of absolute rule.”

Kairo fought back a smile. Perhaps it was Ohanzee’s dramatic display of overconfidence, or the stain of hypocrisy that tinted his inherently reactionary reasoning, most likely however, it was anticipation that tickled Kairo’s mind and made his lips stretch. He saw through Ohanzee’s thin skin, only permitting this extended conversation for the climatic finish that he awaited.

Kairo blinked, flipping his head forward towards Ohanzee, who finally rolled the sounds off his tongue that they had both craved to hear.

“Kairo, I think we should work together and rule this ---- land as brothers.”

        The wind ruffled the sleeves of Kairo’s robes as loose twigs were tossed at Kairo’s beaten armor.  Kairo’s lips finally widened, exposing the whites of his teeth that were buried beneath them.

       He nodded in exception. Slowly Ohanzee turned his back toward Kairo and they walked. Further into the dense forests of Riza they went… the legacy of blood continuing.