Vescrutia: Legacy

The morning sun filtered through the intricate latticework of the windows, casting golden patterns on the walls of the most opulent room in the palace– The Ivory. The air was heavy with the scent of candles and the faint hum of machinery—the relentless rhythm of the life-support systems keeping Hatori Yaarou tethered to existence. His frail body lay motionless in the grand bed, draped in silk covers embroidered with the clan’s crest. Wires and IVs snaked across his figure, a haunting reminder of his fifteen-year confinement.

Hitomi, his daughter, sat with one leg folded over the other on a cushioned bench beside the bed, her ceremonial robes exchanged for a simpler, yet still elegant, black yukata with silver accents. Her hair was bound in a bun and adorned with her crown, though a few rebellious strands cascaded over her eyebrows as she stared at her father’s pallid face. In her hand, she absently twirled the Ring of Hatred, its emerald gem catching the sunlight in fleeting glimmers.

“I think I did well yesterday, Father.” she said softly, her voice carrying a rare note of vulnerability. “I stood there, just like you taught me—chin high, shoulders back. They looked at me like I didn’t belong, but I didn’t falter.” She paused, glancing at the ring before slipping it back onto her finger. “Though I suppose you’d probably remind me that their approval is irrelevant. That action, not sentiment, earns loyalty.”

She heaved a light sigh as she removed her hair from her eyes. “But it’s exhausting, you know? They still see me as a child.. They smile and bow, but I can feel it—the doubt, the disdain for my position.” Her lips curled into a wry smile. “You’d probably tell me to stop whining and just crush anyone who questions me, wouldn’t you?”

The room was silent save for the steady beeping of the monitors. Hitomi’s gaze softened as she studied her father’s face, searching for a flicker of recognition that would never come. “Yesterday was my birthday,” she continued, her tone growing bitter. “Eighteen. Not that anyone noticed. I suppose being named Xhi’on overshadows something as trivial as the day I was born.”

She sighed, settling back into the bench. “It’s funny. I’ve been trained, and groomed for this my whole life, and now that the day is here, I—” She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “I wonder if you’d even approve of the person I’ve become. I know the Elders take exception to my methods.. They call me things like “cruel” as they preach mercy over dominance to the acolytes, but when has coddling been the way? Since when has sparing the weak ensured survival?”

Her fingers brushed against the emerald gem as the faint sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts. The sliding door opened to reveal Elder Jhun, his expression a mixture of sternness and understanding. “My Paragon,” he said, bowing slightly. “The Yaarou Council awaits your presence.”

Hitomi groaned as she straightened her posture. “I am aware, Elder Jhun.” she replied, rising from the bench. She spared one last glance at her father. “We'll finish this later.”

Jhun waited as she approached, his sharp eyes briefly glancing at the Xhi’on's father. Despite being Hexless, Hatōri Yaarou was once a renowned General and artisan of the Ephemeral Arts. His technique had been so profound, that his methods became standard protocol among the Tribe. At his prime, skills earned him a place among the Al'Korei– the Clan's strongest warriors, dedicated to the protection of the Xhi’on. But shortly following the birth of his child, Hatōri fell terminally ill– afflicted by a cancerous disease that fed on his Naten.

“You still visit him every morning?” he observed quietly.

“Every morning.” she said simply, brushing past him. “Come, let’s not keep the council waiting.”

-- –- -- -- ---

The council chamber was a stark contrast to the warmth of her father’s room. The circular space was lined with towering shelves of ancient tomes and scrolls withholding the Yaarou Clan’s long and storied history. At the center stood a grand table, its polished surface adorned with maps, reports, and an elaborate centerpiece bearing the clan’s insignia.

The air was already alive with murmurs as Hitomi entered, her presence cutting through the tension like a blade. She paused just within the doorway, allowing the gathered elders and advisors to take in her imposing silhouette. Her sharp gaze swept the room, silencing those who dared to question her command. One by one, they rose from their seats as a sign of respect.

Elder Jhun stepped forward, a formal bow preceding his words. "Lady Xhi’on, may I present the Council of Elders and your senior advisors. Other than myself, Elder Ayune, Hayate, and Rii'yuu all hail from the Yaarou Clan's Western—"

Hitomi raised a hand, halting him mid-sentence. Her voice was calm but carried an edge of impatience. "Spare me the introductions, Elder Jhun. I was summoned here under the impression this meeting was of critical importance. Let us not waste time with pleasantries."

The room stilled as Hitomi strode to the head of the table, her movements deliberate. She didn’t bother to sit, choosing instead to stand with an air of defiance. "You may be seated."

The elders exchanged uneasy glances before each of them acquiesced and returned to their seats. All aside from Jhun, who cleared his throat before speaking. "Very well, my Paragon. The matters at hand concern both the present threats to the Clan’s transnational operations, as well the future of your role as Xhi’on."

Hitomi arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued despite her controlled expression. "Go on."

Elder Jhun gestured toward the sealed documents on the table. "It is time you were introduced to the Yaarou’s Hidden Branch—our clan’s most secretive and vital network. The Gōkùdo."

She frowned, the name unfamiliar yet carrying a weight that demanded her attention. "Hidden Branch?"

Elder Hayate leaned forward, his voice low and grave. "The Gōkùdo Corporation has operated in the shadows for centuries, ensuring the survival and dominance of the Yaarou Clan. It is a network of spies, enforcers, and assassins—those who do what must be done to protect our interests."

He said, adjusting his circular framed glasses, returning his gaze to Hitomi. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of the sealed documents as Jhun slid them toward her. Hitomi’s fingers hovered over the papers, her mind racing.

"I'm listening..” She responded, her tone measured.

Hayate’ nodded solemnly. "As Xhi’on, you are to inherit direct command of the Gōkùdo. Their loyalty is to you, and their actions will shape the future of the clan."

Hitomi took a breath, her hand finally settling on the documents. "And what exactly does this Hidden Branch have to do with the disruptions you were referring to?"

Hayate continued, “The recent rebellions and escapees from our western Ishi operations are no coincidence. Whoever is behind them possesses intimate knowledge of our activities—knowledge only accessible to those within the Gōkùdo or our highest ranks."

Hitomi’s jaw tightened. "A traitor, then?"

"Perhaps," Hayate’ admitted. "Or a formidable outsider with access to our secrets. Either way, the threat is escalating. If these disruptions continue, our financial and military stability will be compromised."

She narrowed her eyes, the weight of the situation sinking in. "And what has been done so far to address this?"

Elder Jhun spoke up, his voice tinged with frustration. "Our forces are stretched thin, and the rebellion leaders remain elusive. We’ve managed to suppress some uprisings, but the root of the issue persists."

Hitomi studied the elders before her, their expressions betraying a mix of uncertainty and deference. She turned her attention back to Jhun.

"And you thought it prudent to keep the existence of this Hidden Branch from me until now?" she asked, her tone icy.

Jhun didn’t flinch under her scrutiny. "The Gōkùdo answers only to the Xhi’on. Until your coronation, the knowledge was not yours to bear."

She let the silence hang for a moment before finally taking her seat at the head of the table. Her fingers drummed against the surface, her mind already strategizing.

"Very well," she said, her voice steady. "Provide me with a full report on the Gōkùdo’s current operations. I want every detail—personnel, missions, and assets. If we are to face this threat, I need to know exactly what resources are at my disposal."

The elders exchanged looks, some relieved, others wary. Elder Rii’yuu, however, leaned back in his chair, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. Unlike his contemporaries, Rii'yuu barely looked older than Hitomi– yet and still, his knowledge, wisdom, and ability earned him the moniker Elder for a reason

“Ahem—If I may, Lady Xhi’on,” he began, swirling a glass of crimson wine. “There are a few more matters still at hand we've yet to discuss. Some more direct, immediate affronts to both the Western and Eastern Yaarou compounds that I believe demands your attention.”

Hitomi’s eyes narrowed. “Speak.”

Rii’yuu took a deliberate sip, savoring the moment. “I know you asked for us to skip over our introductions but.. I am the acting Chief Ambassador of the Gōkùdo Corporation, and our extensive network of information has confirmed that the B’halian Empire has begun mobilizing their forces. Their ships were spotted leaving the western harbors en masse. If they intend to invade, it will not be long before they reach our shores.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling like a stormcloud.

Hitomi’s fingers tightened against the armrests of her chair, her composed façade betrayed by the slight tension in her jaw. She regarded Rii’yuu with a sharp gaze, her mind racing through the implications of his statement.

“The B’halian Empire,” she said, her tone laced with quiet disdain. “They've remained dormant for centuries..”

Elder Jhun interjected, his voice steady but urgent. “Their mobilization suggests they are testing our defenses. The Empire would not deploy such a force without a calculated plan. This is not mere posturing, Lady Xhi’on.”

Hitomi scoffed, drumming her fingers against the table. "Bold of them to assume we would crumble so easily.."

Rii’yuu smirked, swirling the wine in his glass with a languid grace. "Bold, indeed. But also calculating. They’ve likely assessed our current state—the rebellions, the rumors of internal discord—and concluded that we are vulnerable."

Elder Ayune, a wizened woman with streaks of silver running through her hair, leaned forward, her face etched with concern. "If the Empire chooses to advance on our territories while we are still addressing domestic affairs, it could stretch our resources to a breaking point. I fear we cannot afford a battle of attrition, my Paragon."

Hitomi’s expression remained unreadable, though the tension in her jaw betrayed her thoughts. “Does the Gōkùdo possess any useful intelligence on their endgame?"

Rii’yuu set down his glass, his smirk fading into a grim line. "Espionage within the Empire has proven.. difficult. Their disdain toward outsiders and.. well, all humans have made infiltration impossible.” He said, his gaze dropping into the still liquid in his glass. “Including our own forces, many have tried, and failed to infiltrate B'halia's ranks. And while I may have my.. theories, their actions suggest more than a simple land grab.”

Rii'yuu’s words sparked a murmur to spread among the table. “If they intended to annex territory, they would have struck swiftly and decisively.” He continued, his tone darkening. “I happen to disagree with Elder Jhun; I think this mobilization reeks of posturing—an attempt to force us into a defensive position while they work to dismantle us from within."

Elder Hayate, his deep baritone carrying the weight of decades of experience, added gravely, "If we are to assume the B’halian Empire has allied with whoever is feeding the rebellion, then we are not merely fighting on two fronts. We are facing a unified strategy designed to weaken and destroy the Clan."

The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence, broken only by the soft creak of Hitomi’s chair as she rose to her feet. She strode toward the map displayed on the table, her sharp eyes scanning its intricately marked territories. Her finger glided over the Western Isles before tracing inland to the eastern compounds.

"If B’halia seek to dismantle us, then they either underestimate our resolve, or simply don't know who I am." She turned to face the gathered Elders, her voice firm. "From what I understand, it is unlikely they’d align themselves with humans. Regardless, the priority for this council will be to discern whether or not a traitor exists, and sever their influence before it can spread further. Elder Jhun, I trust you will oversee this personally."

Jhun inclined his head. "Of course, my Paragon."

Hitomi's gaze then shifted to Hayate. "The rebellions must be quelled swiftly and decisively. Send word to the Eastern and Western compounds. Reinforce their defenses and ensure the rebellion leaders have no opportunity to regroup."

Hayate nodded solemnly. "It will be done."

Hitomi’s gaze then shifted to Rii’yuu. “Instruct some Gōkùdo operatives to monitor the B’halian fleets. If spies aren't working, I want drones in their airspace, I want satellites in their orbit, I want to know their every move—their supply lines, their commanders, their strategies. No detail is too small. If they step within our waters, I want them to regret it."

Rii’yuu’s smirk returned, this time with a glint of approval in his eyes. "Consider it done, Lady Xhi’on."

The elders murmurs of agreement filled the chamber. Rii’yuu, however, hesitated before he spoke again, his voice cutting through the noise like a knife. "Although, there is a matter of advice I'd like to impart.” He added as he finished what remained of his drink. “Be wary of the Gōkùdo. Loyalty is their currency, but even the most steadfast can waver under the right conditions."

Hitomi didn’t look up from the map, her voice cold and resolute. "Then it is your duty to ensure their loyalty remains unshaken, Is it not?” Her words landed with an edge that only tightened the tension in the room.

Rii’yuu’s coy expression seemed unfazed, teasing in a way. But before he could fix his mouth to respond, Hitomi's voice cut him off. “In fact,” She continued, her gaze locking onto him with predatory precision. “You will schedule a meeting– summoning the highest ranking members of this Syndicate. I contend, Eighteen Years is a long time to heed a name you've never seen. I say we let them lay eyes on the new face of the family.”

She stepped closer, her presence domineering. “Do you think you can manage this?”

Rii’yuu chuckled softly. He'd done well to conceal his initial shock from Hitomi's declaration. Though her eyes were no more fierce than his own, he couldn't fight the gnawing sense of fear in his heart. “Your will be done, my Xhi’on. And when would you have them arrive in Edo?”

Hitomi traced her finger across the map one final time before she folded it up. “Not in Edo.” She said coolly, collecting the remaining confidential files scattered along the table. “Summon them to the Western Compound in Muu in two days. I'll speak to them personally and investigate the Ishi farms while I'm there. Two birds, one stone.”

Elder Jhun's usually leveled expression widened at Hitomi's notion, “Wait– My Paragon, does that mean–”

“Yes Elder, I plan to leave the palace. I am Xhi’on now, and I'd like my chance to finally see the world I've inherited.”

Elder Jhun’s expression tightened, the furrow in his brow deepening. "My Paragon, forgive my candor, but leaving the palace amidst such unrest exposes you to unnecessary danger. The rebellion festers, and the B’halian threat looms ever closer. Your presence here provides stability—an anchor amidst the chaos."

Hitomi’s head turned sharply, her gaze cutting through his concern like a blade. "Stability?" The single word rang with quiet defiance. "The people see no stability, Jhun. They see a figurehead cloistered behind stone walls while their fields burn and their families scatter. If I am to lead, it must be in body, not merely in name."

Elder Ayune, her silver-streaked hair catching the chamber’s flickering lamplight, inclined her head. Her voice, though soft, carried a weight that stilled the room. "She speaks the truth. The Xhi’on must embody more than power; she must embody presence. To unite the people, they must see their Paragon willing to bleed alongside them, not hidden behind the gilded veil of privilege."

Elder Hayate folded his arms, his sharp features etched in thought. "If this is your will, Lady Xhi’on, then your safety must be paramount. A contingent of the Al-Korei should accompany you."

Hitomi’s lips twitched, a faint trace of derision flashing across her otherwise calm face. Before she could speak, Elder Jhun cleared his throat, stepping in delicately. "Elder Hayate, forgive the interruption, but the Al-Korei have recently been... disbanded by decree of Lady Xhi’on."

The room stilled, and a ripple of shock passed through the elders. Hayate's neutral demeanor twisted into disbelief, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Disbanded?" His words carried the weight of disbelief and something dangerously close to fear. "The Al-Korei have never been dismissed—not under war, nor under peace. Unless—"

"They are no longer necessary," Hitomi interrupted, her tone cutting through the tension. "And I will not replace them with a facsimile. I will travel alone."

Hayate opened his mouth as if to protest, but a heavy sigh escaped instead, resignation settling in his shoulders. "As you wish, my Paragon. But at least permit us to secure the route and fortify the compounds ahead of your arrival."

"Naturally," Hitomi replied, her tone softening by a fraction. "But do not keep me waiting. Time is a luxury we no longer possess."

Rii’yuu, who had been lounging silently at the far end of the table, finally spoke, his voice a silky thread weaving through the room. "A bold move, my Xhi’on. Reckless, some might say. But bold, nonetheless."

Hitomi’s eyes flicked toward him, her faint smirk carrying the weight of a warning. "You’re beginning to annoy me, Rii’yuu."

He inclined his head, the shadow of a grin playing on his lips. "A thousand apologies. I only seek to ensure your message resounds clearly. In an era of war, clarity is paramount."

Hitomi’s expression didn’t waver. "Then perhaps, speak less and listen more. You are all dismissed."

The council rose, their collective movement echoing through the chamber like the creak of ancient wood. As the elders filed out, murmuring amongst themselves, Hitomi remained rooted in place. Her fingers brushed the edge of the map she had folded moments before, her gaze distant yet sharp. The enormity of the task before her settled in her chest like iron—but beneath it, a fire roared, fierce and unyielding.

Elder Jhun lingered, his shrewd eyes watching her with a mixture of wariness and admiration. "You play a dangerous game, my Paragon," he murmured, his voice steady but laced with an unspoken challenge.

Hitomi turned to meet his gaze, her stance unflinching. " As every great leader does. The only question is whether or not they have the resolve to win."

Jhun studied her for a long moment before inclining his head and taking his leave.

Rii’yuu, lingering just outside the doorway, cast her a final glance, his smirk returning as he disappeared into the corridor.

The chamber fell into silence once more, save for the faint rustle of parchment beneath Hitomi’s hand. She stood alone, her mind already racing ahead, weaving strategies from fragments of doubt and determination. For the first time in years, the world felt fragile in her hands—but if fragility was the cost of change, she would bear it without falter.

Two Days Later

Hitomi stepped out onto the palace’s marble landing pad, the wind teasing at the hem of her ceremonial robes as she strode toward the obsidian form of the Theta Jet. Sleek and predatory, the aircraft seemed to devour the sunlight, its polished surface reflecting distorted fragments of the palace behind her. Gold accents traced the wings and tail, each line etched with the elegance of a clan that held dominion over shadows and empires alike.

The scent of jet fuel and the faint tang of sea salt mingled in the coastal breeze. Behind her, the palace grounds teemed with activity—attendants scurrying to load the final cargo, security officers standing watch, and aides clutching datapads as they finalized departure details. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, Hitomi moved with unbroken poise, her heeled sandals tapping a rhythmic cadence against the polished stone.

Akiko, her personal attendant, rushed to her side, bowing deeply before falling into step. “Lady Xhi’on,” she began, her voice soft but purposeful, “Final preparations are complete. Your itinerary remains classified; only a handful know of your destination.”

“Good,” Hitomi replied, her tone laced with a razor-edged calm. Her crimson eyes, cold and piercing, flicked briefly to Akiko. “The Gōkùdo have been informed of my arrival?”

“Yes, My Paragon. Lord Rii’yuu arrived on the isles just the other day and delivered the announcement himself.” Akiko hesitated, just long enough for Hitomi to notice. “However, there is... tension. Some factions appear open to your leadership, but others cling stubbornly to tradition. Many among them have only heard whispers of you, and they seem hesitant to pledge themselves to an eighteen-year-old.”

Hitomi stopped abruptly, forcing Akiko to halt mid-step. Turning to face her, she let the silence stretch, letting Akiko feel the weight of her gaze. “Then they will learn, won’t they?”

“Yes, My Lady.” Akiko dipped her head quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Resuming her stride, Hitomi allowed herself a faint smile—sharp, predatory, and fleeting. As they approached the jet, the gleaming staircase unfolded from its hull with a mechanical whir. A steward, immaculate in his attire, descended to bow deeply.

“Lady Xhi’on,” he said with practiced deference, “your cabin is prepared. Refreshments have been arranged for the journey.”

Hitomi acknowledged him with a curt nod and ascended the stairs, each step an exercise in poise and control. The jet’s interior was a masterwork of luxury, blending the Yaarou clan’s ancient traditions with modern opulence. Polished wood inlaid with gold ran along the cabin’s walls, illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. Plush seating was arranged to allow for both comfort and command, and a shimmering lattice ceiling gave the space an almost celestial quality.

She eased into the central lounge, ignoring the tray of delicacies set before her. Her mind was already on the task ahead. Akiko entered moments later, bowing again.

“The Western Isles are six hours away, My Paragon,” Akiko reported. “Your itinerary includes the meeting with the Gōkùdo leadership, followed by an inspection of the ishi camps.”

Hitomi’s gaze shifted to the tinted windows as the engines roared to life. The palace grounds receded, replaced by endless skies and the glint of sunlight on distant waters. Yet her thoughts lingered on the challenges awaiting her. The Gōkùdo Corporation's inner circle awaited her arrival—a gathering of the most dangerous and powerful figures in the criminal underworld.

Each of these men and women held dominion over their respective territories, running illicit operations that ranged from smuggling and human trafficking to arms dealing and political assassinations. To the outside world, they were a Syndicate of untouchable criminals, ghosts who manipulated the flow of power from the shadows. But to the Yaarou Clan, they were tools—pawns in a far larger game.

Though, despite their obedience to the Yaarou’s hidden hand, their allegiance was precarious at best. The Gōkùdo were an empire of predators, and loyalty was a currency that could be bought, sold, or discarded. Now, as the clan’s youngest Xhi’on, it was her responsibility to ensure they understood the balance of power had not shifted, even with the ascension of a mere eighteen-year-old to the helm. Nothing's Changed

As the Theta Jet leveled out, Akiko retrieved a data tablet from the onboard vault, bowing again as she handed it over to Hitomi. Its screen cast a pale blue light across her face as she reviewed the latest intelligence: rising tensions in the ishi slave camps, a spike in uprisings, and dossiers on the Gōkùdo’s key players.

Akiko returned to her seat, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. She, as was everyone ordained to assist or travel with Hitomi, were advised to speak as seldom as possible. Despite her air of grace and elegance, the Xhi'on was known to be incredibly quick tempered, impulsive, and held a disdain for disrespect.. especially by those she considered beneath her. Which of course, was everyone.

Still Akiko's felt compelled to speak her mind. “Um‐” Her voice trembled as she asked, “Lady Xhi’on... permission to speak freely?”

Hitomi gestured with a flick of her fingers for her to speak, her eyes still on the tablet.

“These men you’re meeting,” Akiko began, her tone uncharacteristically tentative, “They are not like the elders. They respect power, but their loyalty is tenuous, their ambitions unchecked. I fear they will test you, push you to see how far you’ll bend.”

She lowered the tablet, her crimson gaze locking onto Akiko.

“And do you believe I will fail?” Hitomi interrupted, a glint of amusement in her tone. “Do you think I'd break so easily?”

Akiko’s lips parted, but no words came. She dropped her gaze to the floor, her voice faltering. “I-I did not mean—”

Hitomi again raised her hand, only this time she gestured for Akiko to remain silent. “You can spare me your concern.” She said, taking an irate sigh as she continued to scroll through the tablet. “Everyone's so concerned about my safety, but it only speaks to your doubt in my ability. Your blatant lack of faith in your Xhi’on.”

Akiko refused to look up from the floor of the cabin, but she could feel Hitomi's crimson glare burrowing into her. She wouldn't dare challenge her gaze. Instead she remained still, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.“I-I meant no disrespect, My Paragon.”

“And yet, you've succeeded still.” Hitomi retorted sharply before throwing the tablet onto the table between them, the clatter making Akiko flinch. “Though I suppose you're not to blame. Each of the elders share your delusions.. All of you still see me as a sheltered child, and not as your God. But that ends today.”


[Continues Here.]