As darkness fell across Tarama, Katsuro Ogawa sat in the uppermost hall of his castle, perched upon the largest and most elegant of pillows in the keep. It was the lone seat on an elevated platform, which he often referred to as his “throne”. Just as it was days earlier at his party, the room was well-lit and crowded by many of the Daimyo’s personal soldiers and advisors.

But on this evening there was no table covered by trays of food and jugs of alcohol that stretched from one side of the room to the other. The floor was nearly barren save for a rug that stopped just short of Katsuro’s “throne”, and the Daimyo wanted it precisely that way.

Rather than a boisterous dinner, or any kind of merry gathering, a meeting of great seriousness was to be held between Katsuro a very peculiar guest. The Daimyo summoned the elderly man whom he encountered in the village earlier, the same man who warned Katsuro against defiling the island.

When the man was at last brought into the room accompanied by four soldiers, Katsuro stood up from his pillow, very eager to see if he could obtain any answers as to the strange happenings in the forest only a few hours beforehand.

“What a pleasure to see you again, old man,” Katsuro announced with a derisive scowl, “I was hoping that I would never have to see your grayed face again, but I was curious as to whether you could explain anything about this particular incident that involved my men and I this afternoon.”

“Let me just say what an honor it is to have such a benevolent Daimyo send his soldiers to tear me from my home in the middle of the night and drag me to your very feet,” the elder replied sarcastically, but with a strange glint of humor in his expression.

“Do you have a family that you live with? A wife, or any kind of children or grandchildren?” Katsuro asked.

“I do not.”

“Then you will find no sympathy with me, not that I would have any even if you did have a family,” the Daimyo growled, “I did not come to Miyako to protect you lowly islanders, I am here only for the benefit of myself and the men that have pledged themselves to following me.”

“That attitude you bear is exactly why you and your men found yourselves in that ‘incident’ you spoke of,” the elder interjected.

“Ah, so you have already heard of it?”

“I have, as has the rest of the island, I’m sure. And if you don’t mind me saying so, there were plenty of smiles to be seen in my village when we got word of it.” Katsuro could not help but curl his own smile at the elder’s bold speech, as well as the grin across his aged face.

“Good for you and your people, it is great to hear that you all have finally found some form of pleasure in your miserable existences,” the young Ogawa spat, but quickly veered the discussion away from his insult, “Before we go on, would you mind telling me your name, if you even have one?” The old man chuckled to himself in response to the barb.

“No, not at all, you can call me Tetsuya.”

“Very well, Tetsuya, allow me to explain why I cannot make any sense of what occurred earlier today,” Katsuro said as his tone and expression hardened. The Daimyo stepped off his “throne”, and walked over to one of the windows on the side of the room. He placed both of his hands on the sill, and stared out into the black forests of the island in silence for a few moments, preparing to put his thoughts into words. “My men and I all saw those creatures around us; we looked upon them with our very eyes, and heard every sound that they made. I assure you that they were no illusion, yet for some reason I can’t explain, there was absolutely no sign of them left in the forests.”

“That would make sense,” Tetsuya interrupted, “The Kitsune are very crafty spirits, after all.” Katsuro spun around to face the old man once again.

“Is that what those things are called? ‘Kitsune’?”

“Yes, Fox Spirits.”

“So then, why is it that these ‘Kitsune’ can bound all around my party, yet not leave a single paw print on the ground? Or better yet, why is it that they can throw fire from their very bodies, and when my men are sent back to find them, not even one blade of grass is scorched?” Katsuro’s voice grew louder and more hostile with each word that passed his lips, but Tetsuya was not at all intimidated.

“Most Kitsune are not aggressive spirits, they much prefer to play pranks or frighten humans with their tricks,” the elder explained, “If they are ever truly enraged, they may react more drastically, but I think not even you have come to that point, yet.” Katsuro appeared curious at Tetsuya’s last comment.  

“Do you mean to say that these fox spirits were trying to scare me because of what I’ve done here on the island?”

“Didn’t I warn you precisely of that when you came to my village today?” Tetsuya taunted.

“And that is all you have to tell me? That the island is sending its spirits to punish me for not bowing down and kissing the ground that makes up the Ryukyus?” Katsuro asked, clearly growing impatient. Tetsuya nodded.

“You might be wise to actually start doing something like that, if you don’t want the rest of the spirits to become angry. But if the spirits are as I imagine them, you can prevent any further encounters by showing the island, and especially, my people, respect. If you were to rule like a true Daimyo from Japan, by being concerned for the well-being of all of Miyako, instead of merely yourself, you wouldn’t find yourself as a target for the spirits any longer.”

Part of Katsuro wanted to explode in his frustration, but a level head prevailed with him that night. However, a righteous mind did not.

“If all you wish to do is mock me with your mythical superstitions, then you will have plenty of time to prepare your next story in my prisons,” Katsuro stated. Hitoshi, who had stayed silent like the rest of the men in the room that whole time, jumped up from his seat.

“Lord Ogawa, you must not order something so harsh,” the man advised, “Imprisonment for such a petty offense will only infuriate the rest of the islanders.”

“Do you honestly believe I care what the wretched Ryukyuans will think of this?” Katsuro snapped, “They know full-well that they cannot do a thing in the world to stop me, so why should I be reluctant to lock up an insane old fool who tries to threaten me with tales of angry ghosts?” The Daimyo then looked back at Tetsuya, and narrowed his eyes even further at the elderly man. “You’ll find out soon enough that Tarama’s ‘spirits’ are just fairy tales that you Ryukyuans cling to in your futile hopes for freedom. Wherever those Kitsune are on this island, I’ll find them, and I’ll have them all killed. And after that, there will never be another creature, and certainly no other ‘spirit’ that will ever bother me again.”

* * *

A week had passed since Katsuro spoke with Tetsuya, and in his frustration imprisoned the elderly man, and no sighting of any kind spirit was made. All of the Daimyo’s workers and soldiers reported nothing out of the ordinary around the island, while the castle was completely absent of any supernatural encounters.

Despite this, Katsuro remained extraordinarily paranoid. Even when in the company of several guards and his closest advisors, the young Lord did not feel safe. He did not step foot beyond the castle walls for seven days straight, which he had lined with triple the number of sentries to watch for any strange activity. He stopped holding the regular parties with his vassals that he previously so enjoyed, and he found little comfort during his slumbers.

But as the days passed and no sign was made of the Kitsune, or any other-worldly creature, Katsuro’s anxiety gradually lessened. On the seventh night since his meeting with Tetsuya, he decided that he would resume his overseeing of the island’s projects once again, even if it meant leaving his castle for a time.

That night he was in his room high at the top of his keep, with the door closed shut and four armed guards standing outside in the hallway. He sat next to his futon with a lamp burning just bright enough to illuminate the space around him. In his hands was a new map of Tarama, revised to display the progress that had been made from the last time he diagramed his ventures across the island. The rice terraces were well on their way to completion, and both the mining endeavor in the mountains and the farming far on the western edge of Tarama had commenced.

“It’s all working out just as I had hoped, no matter what that old fool says,” he muttered to himself with a smile, and rolled up the parchment. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to another dresser to set the map down. “No ghosts or other monsters will scare me off this island.”

Just as he was about to drop the map on the desk, something caught his eye in the distance. He looked out his window for a brief instant, and saw a massive creature with gleaming red eyes. In a flash Katsuro’s entire body hit the floor, and though he wanted to scream when he first saw the thing, his shock kept him from doing so. He lay there for several seconds, nearly quivering, before he finally started to lift himself off his stomach.

“What in the world could that be, now…?” he thought to himself, and slowly brought his head above his desk to peer out the window. Quickly, Katsuro’s fright dissipated, as with another glance he could then see that it was no monster, after all. It was instead the giant statue of a Shisa, one of the monstrous lion-dog creatures that were believed to be the guardians of the Ryukyus.

With a heavy sigh of relief, he stood up once again, and sneered at the huge figure on the horizon. It was one of the most impressive constructions across the entire kingdom of the Ryukyus, perhaps even more so than Katsuro’s castle. The statue sat on the very edge of where Tarama’s sandy shores ended and its grassy floor sprouted, overlooking the rolling ocean before it. Despite being so massive, the detail for it was amazingly intricate, down to the most subtle of waves in its fur. With precious jewels that glittered in the moonlight dotting its body, particularly for its claws, teeth and eyes, the monument for the Shisa was one of tremendous pride for the people of Tarama, and one of the few things that Katsuro had not yet desecrated.

The statue portrayed the mythical beast sitting like a guard dog, as if it watched over the entire island from its spot. Though they rarely came in the same size as the one on Tarama, monuments of the Shisa were commonplace in the Ryukyus. The stunning monsters were looked upon by the native Ryukyuans as guardians of the islands, and they believed that in their most desperate hour, the spirit of the creature would enter their world and protect them from whatever danger threatened them. If there was any hope that the people of Tarama maintained during Katsuro’s tyrannical rule of the island, it was in the legend of the Shisa.

Even the Daimyo of Miyako knew this.

“I will take care of that silly mongrel soon enough,” Katsuro growled under his breath, and turned away from the statue for good. After blowing out the candle inside his lamp, he laid down on his futon, and drew the blanket over his body. Resting his head upon the pillow, Katsuro closed his eyes; although not for the final time that night.

* * *

Some hours later, Katsuro heard a faint pounding even as he slumbered. Still half-asleep, he lifted himself off his futon and scanned his dark bedroom with his weary eyes. As it continued, he determined that it emanated from the large wooden dresser where he hung many of his robes, as though there was something inside moving around.

Upon his realization, Katsuro fell back to his futon and lifted the blanket over his head.

“I-it’s gotta be a dream…” he whispered nervously to himself, “There’s noth-there’s nothing in there…”

But even when he pressed his eyelids shut as hard as he could, hoping to fall back asleep, the faint sound continued to ring throughout his room for several minutes, until it abruptly stopped just like that.

Katsuro waited for a few moments in the silence, and then slowly crept back up off his futon. He peered at his dresser once again, which sat in the darkness completely stationary and without the slightest noise.

Just as he let out a sigh of relief, the cabinet’s doors suddenly swung open and one by one, the Daimyo’s elegant garments came flying out. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he screamed, and in a flash the guards from outside his bedroom stormed in.

“My Lord, what’s the-” one of them began to say, before the four soldiers noticed the dozen or so pieces of clothing that inexplicably flew about the room just below the ceiling.

“Get me out of here!” Katsuro shouted as he raced past the guards and into the hallway. The soldiers, nearly as frightened as he was, followed right behind him and slammed the bedroom doors shut. “Lock them! Lock them!” Katsuro commanded. One of the guards fumbled with the keys in his state of panic, but still managed to do as the terrified Daimyo instructed.

“Wha-what happened, my Lord? What were your clothes doing…?” another soldier asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Katsuro snapped, still doubled over as he tried to regain his breath, “I heard some noise coming from my dresser, and then just like that, it bursts open and all of my robes start flying around like they’re birds!” One of the guards paid no attention to the Daimyo at the moment. Instead, his horrified eyes gazed down the hallway.

“Umm…everyone…?” he managed to utter, pointing to what he saw behind them. The others turned around, and developed identical reactions to a myriad of weapons floating in the air. Swords, bows, arrows and spears, which had previously been hung upon the walls as decorations, hovered several feet above the floor.

“Not again…” Katsuro groaned.

One of the swords suddenly flew towards the men, and would have skewered any of them if one of the guards had not reacted quick enough to deflect it with his own katana.

“Get behind us, Lord Ogawa!” he shouted, and the Daimyo was quick to oblige as more of the weapons came sailing towards them. The four guards were able to knock most of them away before they could find their targets; all except a long naginata, which they stood no chance at batting aside.

“Hit the deck!” one of them yelled, and grabbed Katsuro by the arm as he dragged them both to the floor. The huge spear zipped clear over their heads and found itself lodged in the bedroom door behind them.

“Run for your lives!” Katsuro blurted in complete panic, and took off down the hallway.

“Lord Ogawa, wait!” a guard called out to him, but the Daimyo bolted down the corridor and soon rounded the corner into another foyer. However, he stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon one of the castle’s massive decorative urns also floating in the air.

Before the soldiers had even caught up to him, one of Katsuro’s servants came rushing up the stairs nearby, and threw a handful of white salt on the urn. The vase shuddered for a moment, and then dropped to the floor altogether, completely motionless.

“Lord Ogawa, you must go and hide somewhere fast,” the servant said.

“What in the world did you just do? What’s going on with everything just moving around here?” a flabbergasted Katsuro questioned.

“I threw this sacred salt on the urn,” the servant answered, showing the Daimyo a pouch of the blessed powder he had attached to his belt, “It will ward off the Tsukumogami, but…”

“A Tsukumo-what?” Katsuro interrupted, “What is that nonsense?”

“It’s a spirit that possesses earthly objects, but please listen to me when I say that you’ve got to get away before-”

In the middle of his sentence, a ghostly blob emerged from the large jar and floated high into the air. It looked just like the very vase it materialized out of, but with two bulbous eyes and a wide, gaping mouth where a wad of saliva dripped from.

All of the men, particularly a petrified Katsuro, stood transfixed on the mysterious thing above them as its huge, round eyes looked at every one of them. The strange spirit then let out a deep chuckle, which made Katsuro scream so loud that it echoed all the way down to the bottom floors of the castle.

“Get him out of here now,” the servant said over the racket as he reached for another handful of his holy salt, “Find some place where there aren’t any items around.”

Katsuro and the soldiers hurried towards the stairs, and began a mad dash down without so much as looking back at how the servant would deal with the ghost. They raced through the rest of the castle, which by then had erupted into chaos. All throughout the halls various objects flew about- chairs, paintings, statues, desks, potted plants, lamps- while the castle residents ran around in disarray as they tried to escape the bizarre affair.

Joining the many guardsmen that attempted to fend off the possessed items were more servants like the one Katsuro talked to on the top floor, whom also threw handfuls of holy salt left and right to ward off the Tsukumogami. As more and more of the mischievous spirits came into plain sight, they revealed just how strange they truly were.

The Tsukumogami all looked like whatever item they had taken control of, but with a number of human features including eyes, mouths, tongues, arms, legs, even teeth. One came in the form of a straw mat which had a single massive eyeball in its center, and a glowing mouth underneath.  Another had the likeness of a tapestry, but bore red eyes and a wide grin as it flew about the hallways as if it were a bird.

One which particularly alarmed Katsuro and his men was an umbrella with two arms and a long tongue that hung to the end of its rod. They immediately backpedaled at first sight of it while the ghostly object bounced across the floor by its pole and even its tongue.

As frightening as it was for the Daimyo and his men to duck under and dodge the many of the airborne objects while they ran, it was even more unsettling to see some of the castle’s many items dancing around in front of them.

Everyone else in the castle appeared to share the same notion.

“Lord Ogawa, let’s have you hide in there,” one of his guards announced in the middle of the din, pointing towards a closet door. After opening it and swiftly inspecting to make sure it was completely empty, the soldiers stuffed the Daimyo inside the cupboard.

“Stay in here my Lord, we’ll take care of those creatures and let you know when it’s safe to come back out,” one of them said. Katsuro was about to speak to the guard, but before he could even utter a word, the door was slammed shut. He stood in pitch blackness, only able to hear the sounds of pandemonium outside in the hallways.

“I hate these islands…” Katsuro moaned to himself.

* * *

No more than an hour after the sun’s first rays stretched across Tarama, Tetsuya was awoken by two soldiers stomping into his cell. The elderly man barely so much as opened his eyes before he was lifted off the floor and escorted out of his prison. The pair of guards led him out of the dungeons and through the rest of the castle, which looked as if a storm had passed through the interior.

Furniture, decorations, weapons and items of all sorts were strewn about the rooms and hallways, many in dozens of pieces after they had been shattered from the raucous the night before. Many of the corridors were in such a clutter that Tetsuya and the soldiers had to navigate their way around the litter, as well as the numerous servants that spent the morning cleaning up the mess. Tetsuya could then not help but smirk any time he saw one of the attendants sweeping up a small pile of white salt, which was coincidentally always alongside an unturned object.

Soon he was brought to the top floor of the castle, and into the throne room of Katsuro once again. However, unlike the day before, the room was utterly disheveled, with chairs, cushions and other fixtures scattered across the space. The Daimyo was not even sitting on his “throne”. Instead he paced about the middle of the room as his servants continued searching for the whereabouts of his favorite pillow that he normally sat upon. As soon as Tetsuya and the soldiers entered, his eyes shot in their direction, revealing to them a tired, fuming expression.

“Thank you for bringing him to me so quickly,” Katsuro said to the soldiers, barely able to contain his frustration, “This is just who I was hoping to have a discussion with this morning.”

“Judging by the look on your face, I assume that you got little sleep last night, Mr. Ogawa?” Tetsuya teased. Katsuro revealed a phony smile.

“That would be correct, Tetsuya, do you know why that was the case?”

“Well, I admit that I could not perfectly hear all of what happened from my cell, but I did hear a lot of men screaming and what I think was lot of objects being thrown around.”

“You’re half right, old man,” Katsuro said, nearly shaking, “There were plenty of things being tossed about last night, but apparently by ghosts which enjoy possessing what I own and trying to kill me with them!” Tetsuya nodded inquisitively, although only to mock the Daimyo.

“That sounds to me like you had a few Tsukumogami causing mischief here in the castle.” Surprisingly enough, Katsuro did not explode with rage at the elder’s blatant amusement.

“If you would be so kind, would you mind explaining to me what these ‘Tsukumogami’ just are?” Katsuro asked.

“You don’t know of them? I figured that some of your men would have explained that to you by now, seeing as how all the salt on your floors shows that some knew how to deal with them.”

“Oh, I’ve heard it all from my servants, don’t you worry about that, I just want to hear your input on it,” Katsuro said, almost breaking into maniacal laughter.

“Ah, I see. Well, Tsukumogami are spirits that become alive once an object reaches its one-hundredth birthday. They’re not merely enchanted artifacts, but spirits of the items themselves, that’s why they take on their form when we see them as ghostly shapes. They are very proud of whatever item they come from, and if they ever feel that their owner does not properly appreciate them, they love to play pranks on him or her, although I think you’ve figured that part out some time ago.”

“Yes yes, that is precisely what I’ve been told, already. But one thing that my servants could not answer, and I was hoping that you explain this for me…” Katsuro began, and took a pause before shouting, “Why did they attack all of us last night!?”

“Obviously, the Tsukumogami were not particularly pleased with the way you appreciate your possessions.”

Katsuro knew that Tetsuya was only badgering him, just as the old man had been for the entire conversation. Still, the Daimyo amazingly remained collected. Rather than unleash another outburst, he sauntered over to Tetsuya, and stared the elder directly in both eyes. He even managed to release a wry chuckle at Tetsuya’s response.

“No, my friend, what I mean is, why did all of my possessions suddenly decide to form an uprising last night of all nights? I’ve owned most of what’s in this castle for over ten years; why have they never done so before? Why did the Tsukumogami never show their faces while I lived in Japan?”

Tetsuya was completely unflinching as Katsuro stared him in the eye, even though the Daimyo’s face showed a volatile human being. The old man was perfectly aware that Katsuro did not expect a legitimate explanation, as Tetsuya knew that the Daimyo had stopped trying to make any sense of what was occurring.

“Just as I tried to tell you before- the Ryukyus are not Japan, you don’t understand these islands one bit,” Tetsuya jeered, “The spirits are alive in these parts, and if you continue with your vain ways, they will continue pestering you. All you have to do is stop prioritizing wealth, and treat everything about the islands with some dignity, and you will be free of the spirits’ wrath.”

Any sign of mirth vanished from Katsuro’s expression.

“That’s it!” Katsuro roared as he threw his hands into the air, and went into a tantrum, “I’m not going to deal with this drivel of spirits and ghosts any longer! I am the nephew of Shimazu Tadatsune, I am the Daimyo of Miyako; I am far above being so bothered by all of this crazy magic or whatever nonsense goes on in these islands. You can sit here and mock me and try to frighten me all you want, but it’s not going to work any longer. Starting this very day, Lord Katsuro Ogawa will put an end to whatever spirits still try to haunt me!” Katsuro’s flaming eyes shot in the direction of his soldiers while he pointed a trembling finger at Tetsuya. “Guards, get this fool out of sight; I’ll come back to you with my plans for him shortly.”

Katsuro did not even watch the soldiers take Tetsuya by the arms and drag him out of the room. The Daimyo simply turned his back to them and began to make his way towards his bedroom, muttering to himself as he dreamed up his first ideas of how to strike back at the spirits of the Ryukyus.
 

The courtyards of Katsuro’s castle bustled with dozens of soldiers and servants who hurried along to fulfill whatever order the Daimyo had thrown their way. Some men carried individual weapons, while others lugged entire crates or barrels in their arms through the fortress grounds.

After dismissing Tetsuya from his throne room earlier, Katsuro ordered Nobuhiro and a dozen other men to head to the giant Shisa statue on the island with several casks of gunpowder. The young Lord had long disliked the massive figure that the native Ryukyuans regarded as a guardian for their islands, and now he planned to rid it from Tarama once and for all. He did not care how or when it was accomplished that day; his only command was to bring the statue down and destroy it.

In the middle of the throng were three people that stood patiently- Tetsuya and the two soldiers accompanying him- all three of which waited for the Daimyo to exit his keep and tell them what he had planned for the elder Ryukyuan. When at last he did, he came storming out of the castle closely followed by Hitoshi, who had tried in vain to talk any sense into the Daimyo ever since he went into his tantrum.

“Alright, old man, this is your last warning,” Katsuro announced over the commotion around him as he advanced towards Tetsuya, “Regardless of what you tell me, I’m sending out my men to annihilate that ridiculous dog-statue. But if were to finally use whatever wisdom may be in that ancient skull of yours, and actually provide me with some answers on how to eliminate the spirits’ presence, you and your people will avoid what punishments I have thought for you.” The elder studied Katsuro’s face for a few moments, and appeared as if he contemplated on taking the Daimyo up on his offer.

“Between yourself and I, this plan of yours to destroy the Shisa is your most foolish idea, yet,” he answered with a toothy grin. Katsuro wore an insincere smile while he exaggerated several nods of his head. It was exactly the kind of response he had come to expect from Tetsuya.

“Very well then, you withered excuse for a human being, I am done letting you toy with me. I gave you more than enough opportunities to respect my rule as Daimyo and aid me in these mysterious circumstances, but if you are that stubborn as to continue ridiculing me with your belief in the island’s spirits, then I will make sure to put an end to it once and for all.” Katsuro reached to his side to pull his katana off his belt, and held the sheathed sword in front of Tetsuya’s complacent face. “In less than an hour, the blade beneath this scabbard will be your fate.”

Whereas the old man barely so much as blinked at his statement, Hitoshi grew visibly distressed. He knew that Katsuro was the type of man to act irrationally at times, but in all the years that he had served the young Daimyo, he had never known him to execute someone with his own hands. That Katsuro was so eager to kill another person, and for such a petty reason, no less, told Hitoshi that his best friend had all but lost his mind.

Katsuro looked up at the ramparts just above, and got the attention of a trio of guards which stood at their post.

“You three, come down here,” he yelled out to them. Even though there were already few soldiers watching from the castle walls, they hustled down the stairs that led to the courtyard floor to join with the Daimyo. “You three are coming with us,” Katsuro straightforwardly explained, “We’re going to make our way to the field just north of the castle, away from everyone here and at the nearby village. There, I’ll deal with the old man myself, but you will all accompany me as a precaution. Understood?” The three guards from the ramparts, as well as the two soldiers who had stood there the whole time, all nodded their heads.

“Yes, my Lord,” they said in unison.

“Good, then let’s head out right away,” Katsuro said, and gave Tetsuya one final glare before the soldiers turned with the old man and began to march with him. Katsuro was just about to follow, but he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Lord Katsuro, I implore you to think all of this through more carefully,” Hitoshi warned, and his voice was sullen. He took his hand off the Daimyo once he looked back at him. “You are being far too rash today, and I fear that you will regret it in time.”

“Why do you believe that, Hitoshi?” Katsuro asked resentfully, “Are you doubtful of my judgment?”

“No, my Lord, not at all, but I feel that you are making some very foolish decisions. You are about to waste nearly all of our gunpowder on a mere statue, and worse, you are about to kill a man who has committed no crime, nor any kind of hostility against you. What you are doing is reckless; far too reckless for there to be no consequences afterwards.”

“I hope you are not siding with that old man or anything to do with these islands besides myself, Hitoshi. Because I have absolutely no intention of letting the Ryukyus control me. I am the ruler of these islands, and nothing about them, human or spirit, will dare challenge me any longer.”

“Declaring war on a bunch of ghosts is not going to resolve any of this,” Hitoshi said, nearly gritting his teeth in frustration, “Nor is executing an elderly man and infuriating every Ryukyuan on Tarama.” Katsuro gave him a dubious look.

“Then you truly are against me in this?” Hitoshi wanted to respond more fiercely at the accusation, but the man’s wisdom took over. He sighed, and placed both hands on the Daimyo’s shoulders before looking him in the eye.

“I have, and always will, serve you, loyally. Though I do not always agree with your actions and thoughts, I respect them, and I hold you in great honor as my Daimyo wherever we may travel. I’m not positive myself what to make at all of the strange things that have happened on this island, and because of that, I think that there is more than one way to deal with them. I think that there are other options that must be explored before you act with such spite. I only believe so with your wellbeing in mind, Lord Katsuro, because I never wish for anything ill upon you. You have a great mind and a strong heart, so I believe that if you think all of this through, you can resolve the issue peacefully, and nobody will have to worry about it ever again.” He hoped that a more earnest explanation would reach into Katsuro’s mind, as Hitoshi was, unquestionably, the Daimyo’s most loyal follower, and closest of friends.

However, after staring at his advisor for a brief time, Katsuro lifted his arms to take Hitoshi’s hands off of his shoulders.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Hitoshi, and on any other day, it would perhaps change my mind,” he said bluntly, “But this day, I show these islands that nothing, living or nonliving, mocks Katsuro Ogawa.” Like that, Katsuro turned from his longtime friend and began to make his way out of the castle courtyards, and towards the soldiers who escorted Tetsuya to the nearby field.

Hitoshi could only curse to himself, and run off to follow the Daimyo and the other soldiers.

* * *

A soft breeze followed the waves that licked the shores of Tarama, where the Shisa statue stood guarding the island. Its mouth hung open, showing off a set of terrible fangs, and its red eyes gazed out into the distance unblinking. Just beneath it was the group of soldiers which Katsuro commanded to raze the monument to the ground, setting up the powerful explosives that the Daimyo hoped would shatter the statue’s base.

Further away, Nobuhiro groaned as he took another look at the crudely drawn diagram in his hands. He was given no where near sufficient time to come up with a flawless plan to demolish the Shisa, but even he, who was among Katsuro’s favorite associates, had no choice other than to obey the Daimyo’s order. Regardless of how foolish it was to even try to tear down the gigantic statue, Nobuhiro had been given the command and planned to comply with it.

Any attempt to persuade Katsuro in abandoning one of his absurd ideas would merely fall on deaf ears.

Nobuhiro now used his personal discretion only to determine how the monument could be destroyed with the least likely chance that some, or any, of his men could be injured in the process.

“Captain Nobuhiro!” he heard one of the soldiers call out. He rolled up the paper containing his diagram and looked up to see the soldier running towards him. “We just got every barrel of gunpowder set next to one of the legs on the statue, is the placement correct?” the man asked.

Nobuhiro took a moment to analyze the position of the explosive barrels around the paw of the Shisa; four drums standing in a diamond formation about the base of its front right leg. It was exactly as he had designed, but his reply was delayed as he thought of what a great waste Katsuro made of the gunpowder. Such technology was still not a staple in Japanese weaponry, and the only way the young Daimyo had come upon it was in an expensive deal with Chinese traders who were experts with the volatile powder. To Nobuhiro, the act of using it all simply to destroy a sculpture was senseless.

“Yes, that’s fine,” he said unenthusiastically, “Now tell everyone else to load up the other barrels and get them away from the statue before we set the first grouping off.”

“You’re not going to set them up around both legs of the Shisa at once?”

“No, I’d like to preserve as much of the gunpowder as possible,” Nobuhiro said irritably as he thought of Katsuro, “Lord Ogawa may not care if he blows it all up just to knock down a statue that poses no threat to him, but I’d be a fool not to make some attempt at conserving it, seeing as how we may never come upon it again. If we’re lucky, taking out just one leg on the thing will bring the whole statue down. ” The soldier did not quite understand the severity that Nobuhiro placed upon the gunpowder, but like the captain, had no intention to argue the situation with his superior.

“Al-alright, sir, I’ll let the other men know right away,” the soldier said, and was about to turn and run off before Nobuhiro interrupted him.

“Make sure they get those additional casks entirely clear of the statue,” he explained, with much more emphasis in his tone than before, “There’s a reason why we’re going to have such a long fuse for the blast; we have to make sure that we’re very far away from the thing when the explosion goes off. Because if it works, it’s going to send debris flying everywhere, and we don’t want to be in the way of that.”

“Oh, you mean like splinters on a ship when it gets damaged?” the soldier asked.

“Similar, except it’s going to be shards of burning rock which will come our way,” Nobuhiro answered grimly, “As I’m sure you can imagine, it won’t be hard for that to kill a man, but it’ll be even worse if that strikes one of the barrels- it’ll ignite those and then we’ll be in the middle of the same blast we’re using to destroy a statue the size of a house.” The soldier gulped audibly.

“I-I see…well, that’s something we’ll be sure to avoid, then…”

“You and the others can take as long as you need to. I’m certainly in no rush and as long as we have this done sometime this afternoon, Lord Ogawa won’t bother us about it.”

“Understood, captain, I’ll relay the orders.” The soldier turned and ran back to the other men, who were just about to begin setting up the remaining barrels around the other leg of the Shisa. As they began to haul the heavy casks away from the effigy, Nobuhiro sighed. He stood in the same spot, staring aimlessly at the statue while his mind began to wander, still dwelling over what a waste the Daimyo was making of the gunpowder.

In the middle of his daydream, he became completely oblivious to a sight that made the soldiers freeze. Their faces twisted and their jaws slacked at what an unbelievable transformation that the sculpture suddenly underwent, yet Nobuhiro remained totally unaware.

At last, when one of the soldiers uttered something from afar, he broke out of his trance to see that the Shisa was changing color. The statue, once composed of rich burgundy-hued stone, began to lose the hardness all across its body. Its entire surfaced morphed into brilliant golden fur, which shone brightly in the afternoon sun while the thickest portions of it wafted in the breeze. Most amazingly, the giant eyes on the beast blinked, and its head pointed down at the humans before it. The Shisa’s mouth fell open, and through its glittering fangs came a deep growl.

The statue had come alive.

“Wha-what do we do?” one of the soldiers stammered. Before any of them could answer, the Shisa lifted its paw and swiped away the barrels of gunpowder underneath it, shattering the containers. The monstrous creature then took its first step off of the platform where it originally sat, and shook the ground when its foot touched the earth.

“Run as far as we can, that’s what!” another shouted. The panic-stricken men bolted in all directions, some heading down the beach, some for a nearby glade, even a few into the waters of the ocean.

But Nobuhiro stood mesmerized in the same spot he had stood in that whole time, unable to take his widened eyes off the beast.

“Oh…my…” was all that he could manage to say.

The Shisa’s own eyes narrowed, and turned in the direction of Katsuro’s castle. With a shake of its heavy mane, it let out a bellowing roar that rang across all of Tamara.

* * *

Hitoshi lifted his head as he thought he heard a booming sound sweep across the open field. His eyes surveyed the flat, grassy meadow, but even though he was certain that something echoed from afar, he saw nothing out of the ordinary about him.

A few yards away, Tetsuya was forced to his knees, surrounded by Katsuro and the five soldiers that had escorted him. The Daimyo stood before the elderly man, bearing his katana still, and taunting Tetsuya before he prepared to execute the Ryukyuan.

“So, this is what you choose for it to come to; your death at my hands, and only because of your crazed loyalty to the spirits that haunt this island,” Katsuro said, and beginning to feel a wave of confidence wash over him, something he had not felt in several days since all of the mystical encounters.

“If you think that killing me will free you of the islands’ anger, you are just as mistaken as you have been ever since arriving here,” Tetsuya shot back, showing total poise, “I am not your enemy; it is the spirits themselves that you must contend with. And murdering me will only drive them to punish you further.” Katsuro chuckled.

“For the first time since I’ve laid eyes on your miserable form, I agree with some of what you say. But I understand that your execution will not be the end of my problems, and I am ready to do far more to rid my life of those maddening spirits.” Katsuro gripped the hilt of his katana, and pulled the blade free of its scabbard. “However, silencing you once and for all will be an excellent way to begin things.”

Hitoshi had stayed relatively silent since they left the castle, realizing that there it was all but impossible to get through to the Daimyo any longer, but he spoke one last time simply out of principle.

“Please, Katsuro, do no go through with this, there is nothing that anyone can hope to gain from this man’s death,” he said ominously. Katsuro did not even bother to look over at his longtime friend, and gently touched the blade to Tetsuya’s throat.

“My mind will be much, much clearer without this old fool’s heckling,” Katsuro retorted, though he was so lost in his delusions, that he was not even upset anymore by one of Hitoshi’s warnings, “And when that finally happens, you can believe that our lives here will be far more peaceful than before any of this nonsense began.”

Katsuro was about to pull his katana back and run the blade through Tetsuya’s throat, but suddenly the ground shook and he dropped his weapon. Everyone in the group staggered, and some of them nearly fell clear off their feet. It was only an instantaneous tremor, but it was more than enough to completely baffle all of the men.

“What in the world was tha-,” Katsuro started to say, before a reverberating boom rang out through the area, followed by another tremor. Once again the ground beneath them shuddered and shook them off balance.

“Hey, look out there!” one of the soldiers said, pointing towards a dense forest in the distance. They looked out at the wooded area, which lay past the castle and just before the eastern shore of Tarama. Crowds of birds fluttered out of the canopies, while several land animals came darting out the forest nearly in a stampede. Another boom emanated from the woods and just behind it was yet another tremor which was even more violent than the first two. The chilling sound of trees being snapped in half and toppled reached the men’ ears, and before long they could see several collapsing into the rest of the forest.

“Lord Katsuro…I think I we should leave…now…” Hitoshi managed to say through his fear, dreading that something very terrible was about to happen.

To the astonishment of everyone there, all except Tetsuya, the front of the forest opened up, and the gigantic Shisa emerged from the trees. A mess of dust, dirt and leaves arose from the wreckage as it came out into the open, and the titan released a booming roar which nearly shook the ground just as its thunderous footsteps had.

Katsuro and his men could not believe the enormous beast that they beheld, so much so that they became oblivious to the even more profound quakes beneath their feet as the Shisa continued its advance across the island. It was only when it finally dawned on the Daimyo where the monster was headed that he showed some sign of life.

“Oh…oh no,” he gasped, and his face grew pale with terror.

Before long, the Shisa made its way to Katsuro’s castle while it stomped on all fours and bellowed its menacing cry. The Daimyo could make out dozens of servants, attendants and soldiers racing out of the courtyards and far way from the castle walls in complete panic. He could not know if every last man and woman was retreating, but Katsuro nonetheless realized that his beloved fortress lay completely helpless before the monster.

The Shisa walked straight through the ramparts, breaking the walls clear in half as it effortlessly ambled through solid stone. The rest of the parapet crumbled, and by the time the beast had stepped into the courtyards, the entire wall had fallen to the earth.

Katsuro could only watch on in horror as the Shisa set its eyes on the towering keep before it, glaring and snarling at the citadel as if it were its enemy. The behemoth then lifted itself onto its hind legs, and with a rumbling cry, slammed its entire bulk into the castle.

The whole structure shattered under the monster’s terrifying power, and one by one the multiple levels of the keep came down beneath the Shisa’s weight. The monster decimated them by raking its crystal-like claws across the rubble, and tore them apart before they even touched the island floor.

A cloud of smoke and debris climbed from the devastation, where the Shisa fell back on all fours and bellowed into the afternoon sky. Its booming roars were the loudest that it uttered that day, as though they were cries of victory for the destruction it wrought.

And there was certainly than just the Daimyo’s castle which was destroyed that day. After witnessing his magnificent citadel be obliterated before his eyes, Katsuro collapsed to his knees, while Tetsuya merely stood up and dusted himself off.

“My-my castle…all of my-my fortunes...” Katsuro panted, while his face twisted. In seconds, the Shisa had annihilated an untold wealth of treasures and priceless possessions that the young Daimyo made the very pride of his life. Everything that Katsuro owned, everything that he had attained by means of his noble inheritance or the extortion of the Ryukyus, lay buried under the rubble of his castle.

The Shisa turned away from the destruction, and began to trample back to its resting spot on the island shores. While it marched off, Tetsuya approached Katsuro until he stood just beside him, and they both stared into the distance where the Daimyo’s fortress once stood.

“If the Shisa is anything that we Ryukyuans have believed in for so long, it will not have destroyed your castle with someone still within,” Tetsuya explained, “I would surely imagine then, that all of your soldiers and servants escaped safely.” Tetsuya glanced over at Katsuro, who was bent over, nearly in half, and on the verge of hysteria. “That is, if it actually means anything to you.”

“I-it’s all gone…my wealth, my treasures…everything is gone…” he blubbered. Tetsuya shook his head and sighed.

“You know, I would have hoped that you learned something from all of this, perhaps that one must appreciate life beyond power and riches,” the old man said, and turned around, away from the ravaged citadel. “But I doubt you even deserve that.”

Tetsuya walked off from the group, leaving behind a ruined castle, and a broken Daimyo of Miyako.