Letter from the Scorpion.
Anonymous letter from Nezuban Province
Hello Father
This letter if it reaches you by the hidden paths of our clan, it reaches you from beyond the grave. I admit to being curious as to what you would say about this were I still living, but that is not to important in the grand scheme of things.
For a death letter this could say a lot or very little, we both know how much 'information' we've gleaned from reading other people's mail over the years. Yet at the same time, I know that this night will be my last, I know it my bones, and I go to it gladly.
The darkness was my home, and to die in your home is good no?
You must have known that I hated you. How could you not? I hated you for choosing the Clan over me, over my mother, over us. Sacrifice is the watch word of the Scorpion but I hated you for it. I despised that you could look at me with those cold dark eyes and simply say 'acceptable'.
Acceptable when I became Samurai, acceptable when against all odds I managed to not only survive the assassin's of our old foe but strike back at their source, acceptable when I, and I alone rode three days and nights to warn you of the Unicorn's march.
Acceptable.
I loathed that word from you, and you for uttering it. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, I would never be anything but acceptable. Not good, not bad, just alright. It didn't seem to matter to you what I did, only that it was done.
Acceptable was the word you used when I told you that in revenge for my mothers murder I had slain an Otomo bastard who had arranged her death.
I wonder now that if that was the only way you knew to tell me that you were okay with me. That you thought I was doing the right thing. The Scorpion lie, that is our nature, but the lies we tell ourselves might be the most potent of all.
Did you believe father that I would stop striving to my utmost if you praised me even once? Did you think that I would not believe you because I have never seen your face? Did you want to tell me something but stopped yourself because that is not our way?
Or were you just what you appeared to be? A man consumed by the one thing in his life that he could cling to without regret, duty. A man who ordered the deaths of hundreds to prevent a greater tragedy, a man who had broken more hearts across the Empire than most ever realized they could break.
I do not know, not really, it is easier to believe the latter because then I can feel justified in my hatred, for never being there for us, for never showing that we were your children, for not even mourning mother's death.
But, the truth is, I don't want to go to the next life whatever it may be, hating my father. So I choose father to believe that you did care, that you didn't know how to show it, but you did care. It might be a lie, it might be but we both know that a Lie can save just as much as truth can.
Farewell Father.
Bayushi Mokati reads the letter from his son again. The secret codes of the Bayushi mean nothing to the one who created them. Underneath his mask, his face twitches into a downward frown. In truth he had always thought the boy understood, that he was protecting him. To show favourtism to show compassion would be to invite the many enemies he had cultivated to strike at the boy, his most precious son. Mokati was willing to sacrifice himself, his honour and his soul for the clan, but he was not willing to sacrifice his son.
"Idiot, you should have returned home, this is not acceptable."
Some now say that the Shion* flowers that now grow in Mokati's garden are for those who died in the recent wars. But a few brave souls believe that the flowers are for his son.
*In Flower Language, the Shion Flowers mean 'Remembrance'