Hirokin gazed down into the nest of silks. Guileless and wide, a pair of slitted blue eyes gazed back at him. Blue as his own—blue as his beloved mother’s had been. The sight arrested him as little else had. Before he even realized what he was doing, Hirokin had gathered his newborn nephew to him.

Black blood sprayed out across the moonlit grass, fuming where it fell. The ghastly screech that had rent the night air still rung in his ears as he dodged the claw that swiped down at him from on high, then pivoted to slash out again. A glinting chain ripped through the dark like liquid silver.

“Well, Mother, I must say I thought you were mad to buy back this old place, but as usual you’ve proven me wrong.” Casting her daughter a smile, Sumire strolled with her through the blooming courtyards, repaved and replanted for the season. Children ran by them as they went, laughing and playing in the warmth

In the glade he knelt before the pillar of stone. The leaves overhead dappled it in shadow so that it seemed paley to glow through the veil of dark that touched it. Mayhaps it did, he thought, lit from below by what embers of spirit yet clung to the ashes it housed. Or mayhaps he

As the snows began to thaw and the days began to lengthen, Sumire felt a lightness of spirit she’d forgotten she could feel. Life was not easy, but it was better than before. Though no longer living hand to mouth, money remained thin. With the constant need to re-invest in the family business, the amount

At dusk the children began to gather, trickling in from the streets by ones, twos and threes. They were of all ages, these homeless war orphans. Some of the older ones carried the littlest ones at their hips. Grubby, scrawny and leery-eyed, they slinked about like alley cats, ever cautious of their surroundings and those