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Chronicles of TheFili: Chapter 1 – The Shuffling of the Cards[]

Now for something different. I have decided to chronicle all possible Kongai Fan Fiction that still remains (given that the official Kongai Forum also had fanfic that was now sadly purged) on this website so that none may further succumb to destruction. The reason I decided to name these blogs "the Apocrypha Games" is that firstly, Kongai is a game (duh!), secondly, "apocrypha" refers to the fact that these stories are at best dubious to Sirlin's official "canon" of Kongai (even tough there isn't that much in the first place) and finally, "apocrypha" also means that these stories are not canon to my attempt at fan fiction (Project Kongai). I have neither used any ideas from these stories (hopefully mere coincidences if any similarities ever show up), since my story has 1. The concepts have been planned out meticulously long ago before I found these. 2. Features original characters from my other concepts Mavericks. And 3. Most of these stories would have some direct conflict with any lore I would have proposed.

Note that the fanfic here has been unaltered, bad grammar and all.

Anyway, here's the first book of the Apocrypha Games, originally written by Kongregate's TheFili (Jun 23, 2008), sourced here. Feel free to react in the comments.

Scroll 1[]

With a flash of sunlight, the slim blade fell. An arm was neatly separated from its body and landed on the floor. Less than a second later, the torso was sliced open, scattering its contents all over the courtyard’s stones. Onimaru took a step back and surveyed his work. Granted, a straw-stuffed dummy was no threat, but he would have liked to see any opponent who would fight back with only one arm and chest wound the size of his forearm.

This was what he had been reduced to – training his skills against puppets. None of the other fighters were willing to come near him any more. The concept of “pulling your punches” was one that utterly eluded Onimaru. It had its advantages, though. No chattering and shouting disturbed him; he had the fortress’s court all to himself. The early time also had a lot to do with this. The sun had just appeared above the mountain tops, and it would still take some time until it could be seen over the high roofs that surrounded the lonely samurai. It was part of his training – one session in darkness, two by daylight, one by twilight, every day. For four years he had clung to this routine and had not allowed anything to interfere.

Another straw puppet died without having lived. This one lost an arm and a leg to Onimaru’s sword, before the final stroke sent its head sailing through the air. He did some more exercises to strengthen his mind, before he faced his final task.

This was an attack he had mastered only two weeks ago, and since then had never failed at again. He gathered his thoughts, mustered every bit of willpower – then struck the dummy and cut it in half, puppet, mock armour and pillar.

Onimaru allowed his body to remain in the position into which his own momentum had carried it. In his mind, a soft voice said: “You did well. Far better than before. But you have yet to impress me.” The last sentence had a distinct mocking tone to it, but the samurai forced himself not to let his temper flare.

“Oh, by my grandmother’s shrine, how many times have I told you?”

He opened his eyes and saw Takama the caretaker approach him. “The puppets must not be destroyed! Do you know how long it takes to repair them? Thanks to you the new apprentices will be fighting broomsticks yet again!”

This morning proved more taxing than the fighter had expected. Again, he struggled to remain calm. As a servant, Takawa was under the Circle’s protection, his life thus made sacrosanct. So Onimaru just sheathed his sword, bowed and said nothing, while in his heart, he longed to make the man show him some respect.

With brisk steps, the short plump man walked towards the unfortunate puppets, but in passing he told Onimaru: “The Master wants to see you.”

The samurai left Takawa to tend to the straw men, and made his way to the Master’s chamber, wondering what Higashi would reprimand him for this time. He passed the common room and the dormitory, where the new apprentices were just getting up. On Sundays, they were allowed to sleep a bit longer and they made full use of that privilege.

The walls became barer, the tapestries scarcer, until Onimaru stood in front of the crude double door behind which Higashi waited. He knocked and the bangs of his gauntlet echoed through the corridor.

“Enter.”

He opened the door to be greeted by the room’s usual bleakness. A high wooden chair at the far end of the room was the only furniture. It didn’t look like it was made from precious wood, and that was the point. As many things with the Circle, it was all about understatement. He chair was worth more than its weight in gold, but it was hardly ornamented and looked terribly uncomfortable.

Left and right of it, two purple banners hung from the ceiling and showed the Circle’s symbol. Other than that, Higashi’s official room was empty. The Master himself sat facing the door and rose as his subordinate entered.

“Kongai, Master Higashi,” Onimaru greeted him and bowed.

“Kongai, Onimaru,” Higashi replied with the same gesture. “You have been training, I see.” When the samurai just nodded, he went on: “My friend, your progress over the last month has been commendable. I can see you have learned a great deal and are now a better fighter than ever before.” He walked towards his erstwhile pupil and laid a hand on his shoulders. Onimaru fought down the reflex to shake it off and start a counterattack. Another hard earned victory.

“That is why I have a special task for you. An opportunity to show your worth.” Oh, this song had been sung so often in these halls, and every hope for a truly noble assignment had left Onimaru; he had been told to herd sheep, guard a stone, wait for sunrise without moving. The recollection of these pointless exercises made the pleasant shock all the stronger when Higashi uttered a single word: “Vampires.”

It was eerie to see a sparkle creep into Onimaru’s impassive eyes. These few syllables had suddenly made him young and energetic, where he had been stolid and barely awake before.

Higashi reached inside his robes and produced a sealed scroll: “The first report for ten years. We always knew they couldn’t hide forever. They were right to fear us; they still do. This contains everything you need to know. It will be your task to find and destroy them.. Can you do that, samurai?”

At a loss for words, Onimaru just drew his sword, put the tip to the ground and knelt down beside it, head bent low.

“Good.” The smile in Higashi’s voice was clear. “Then go. Take whatever provisions you need and depart. Don’t tell anyone. This is your great chance and great task.”

But when Onimaru had taken the scroll and was already at the door, the old man made him pause.

“Warrior, remember the first centre of the Circle.”

To which the samurai gave the ritualistic answer: “Arm of the powerless, sword of the helpless, a life in service.”

For a moment, their eyes met, and Higashi’s gaze had the tall figure in its grip. “Think of these words, my friend. Don’t forget them.” And then he let go.

When the footsteps of the leaving man could no longer be heard, two figures stepped from the banners’ shadows left and right of Higashi’s seat.

“Master, I don’t like it. Have you forgotten what he did to Hitosho, just three weeks ago? He is nowhere near ready to go on such a mission.” Clouds passed over the woman’s face, a face the enemies of the Circle never saw. As always when she was agitated, she was turning a shuriken in her left hand, like a deadly steel sun.

“I have not forgotten. In fact it is why I chose him. He may see this assignment as a gift, but it is actually his last chance. If he manages to succeed, he may yet find his place in the Circle. And if he should prove to be unreliable… that’s why I’m sending you two after him.” A scroll similar to the first one appeared in the old man’s hand. “What I have told him is true. The vampires are moving again. Should you be able to help him destroy them, then do so. But if you feel that you have to stop him… then that is your duty.”

The two young fighters exchanged glances- Though none of them especially liked the other, both of them respected their partner’s skills.

“Wait until he is gone for half a day, then follow him. See to it that he only harms the Circle’ enemies, by all means necessary.” He handed the young man the scroll. As usual he was the first to bow, and his companion noted. This demonstrative obedience, and his imitation of the Master’s appearance in his younger years had always galled her. She was so irritated that she almost missed her cue when Higashi said: “Warriors, remember the second centre of the Circle.”

“A life in honour is the only life, dishonour the only death.”