Work Text:
7 years of age, her family was killed. Wings torn off and torn up by the wrath of the lawachurls. An army of them raided Sara's home, leaving no more than one survivor cowering on the roof. She knew her name, she knew her bow and she knew loss. Kujou Sara was born a child of prey, wings a token of her identity. They were different. Not bad, not good, simply different from humans.
She was found three weeks later, a trembling tengu girl with nothing to fight for but two feet to run. Sprinting down through the trees and bushes and away from the monsters whom murdered her family.
The cliff was steeper than she thought it was. Jagged rock edges surely to kill her on her fallen descent down the cliff. The impact at the bottom would surely put this Tengu girl out of her misery sooner or later.
Fifteen years later, here she was.
She's like to say that her position and status was earned through hard work alone, though a lot of it was privilege and luck. It was by no hard-earned reward that she could call herself a member of the Kujou Clan, let alone the General of it. It was by no effort herself that she was where she was now, so overal, she was lucky.
...lucky? Funny word with little significance. Lucky with the status of the almighty General, lucky of having a roof over her head and a bed to sleep on. She was lucky to be alive, with the Shogun's gift of life through receiving her own electro vision. Was she really lucky, or was that the very question she should be thinking about. What could she consider lucky as a Tengu orphan, raised in civilisation with a weapon and a single mission.
"Your excellency, this battlefield I pray on is by no means a token of half-loyalty."
Blood was on the sand, painting the water crimson.
"I killed for you, time and time again. I will bloody my hands for you at a single request. I am the mighty weapon to your hand, prepared to pave the way to eternal glory for you."
Blood on her hand, arrows, sleeve, water, sand, cuticles, fingers. Smell of iron in the air, taste of metal on her tongue.
She felt sick.
Arrows were flying, if not for just a moment. Swords were clashing in a violent dance of blood and war.
"I would do it again. That is my promise and vow to you. Without hesitation, I would throw myself into the line of fire for your mighty cause. My soul is yours, as is my mind and body."
Her throat was tight, closing in pure panic. The enemy was approaching from the north, east and west. The sounds of battle was fast approaching. Stand up, General Sara. Glory to the Shogun once again.
Her limbs locked in place. The valiant Kujou Sara did not stand to face the fire. The valiant and fearsome Kujou Sara remained on the sand, trembling hands far from her bow and tears threatening to boil over. She did not want this. Dear god, who would ever want something like this?
War wasn't an order. It was a sentence to a life and death of regret. She killed so many innocent people over the past year. The fatui's poison seeping into the war cost even more lives. With this very bow and quiver, she had killed the lives of her friend's comrades. If things had gone any differently, perhaps she would have successfully killed her fellow General. A kind, friendly, forgiving person which she didn't deserve the company of. General Gorou deserved more than war, more than loss, yet Sara was the driving factor for those both.
"P-perhaps.. you'll forgive me if-"
The tears flowed steadily now, dripping off her face and onto the sand in small insignificant droplets. Shoulders shaking in small gasping breaths, she struggled to keep her perfect everyday composure. Even scarier than the war was her defiance to the only thing she believed in. The Raiden Shogun remained a constant within Sara's new life, though now she had a handhold to grasp onto. Her loyalty remained to the Raiden Shogun first, but also the very general she had fought so ruthlessly on this very location.
"Forgive me, your excellency. I remain faithful, though I don't think that..."
She pauses, taking a second to collect herself.
"I can't fight for you, not like that. I look back and I only see questions without answers, attack without support. I fought a bloodthirsty war against those who didn't deserve so much loss. I will not question your judgement, however..."
What was it all for?
Why did I do that?
Why did I ask nothing?
Where were you?
The traveler was there, where were you?
With a heavy heart, she whispered into the darkness, “... I'm not as strong as I have promised myself to be. I am not as useful as I promised myself to be. This cause we serve is one I'm not... strong enough. I cannot kill people any longer; I will never fight in another war. I can't ever fight in another war. I can't. Forgive me, your excellency. I remain faithful, but I can’t be the instrument of destruction any longer. There must be a way to find peace without the relentless… devastating march of war."
Yet, despite the tengu’s despair, not all was lost. A small ray of light continued to shine behind her teary fearful eyes. She had gone against the only thing she considered a constant in her life. The Raiden Shogun was the closest thing that Sara had to family, as was the same with true love. However, her excellency was not the only one she had anymore.
However, she had just gone against the Raiden Shogun’s beliefs. As her loyal server and protector of peace, Kujou Sara had just admitted to disagreeing with war. She feared for the Shogun’s disappointment, almost expected it with each passing second. Sara sat on that beach for hours, lingering in the bitter silence of the battlefield. Though one thing she was able to realize, is that despite her words… she had still not yet faced the wrath of The Musou no Hitotachi.
Perhaps the Shogun wasn’t enraged after all, or maybe she simply wasn’t listening?
As the waves lapped against the blood-soaked shore, Kujou Sara remained on her knees, the weight of her revelation pressing heavily upon her. The once unwavering loyalty that bound her to the Raiden Shogun now hung in the balance, a fragile thread threatening to snap under the weight of her inner turmoil. The battlefield echoed with the distant cries of war; echoes of the days long passed. A symphony of chaos that mirrored the disarray within Sara's conflicted heart, even if the shores themselves. The blood-stained sand beneath her seemed to absorb the pain and suffering of the fallen, and the salty breeze carried the pungent scent of iron mingled with the sea. In the solitude of her vulnerability, Sara couldn't shake the memories that haunted her – the night her family was massacred. The wings torn from her back, the escape down the treacherous cliff. Those haunting images had sculpted her into the formidable General she had become, but they had also etched scars on her soul that no victory on the battlefield could heal.
She gazed at her trembling hands, stained with the blood of countless lives sacrificed in the name of a god she was starting to question. The bow and quiver that had once been her only companions now felt like instruments of remorse, weighted with the burden of the choices she had made. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the battlefield, Sara's thoughts lingered on the Raiden Shogun. The enigmatic leader, whose will had directed Sara's every move, remained an elusive figure in the tumult of war. Had her words ever reached the Shogun's ears at all?
The silence that followed Sara's confession stretched into an uneasy stillness, broken only by the distant clash of blades and the mournful cries of the wounded. The tengu girl felt a mix of dread and anticipation, unsure of what awaited her on the other side of this tumultuous revelation. In the midst of her turmoil, Sara's mind revisited the tenuous connection she had formed with General Gorou. The man whose life she had spared, whose kindness had penetrated the icy armour she wore. Despite the horrors of war, he had seen her not just as a weapon, but as a person burdened by the weight of her past.
As the moon cast its silvery glow over the battlefield, Sara slowly rose to her feet. Her tear-streaked face turned toward the horizon, where the Shogun's palace stood as an imposing silhouette against the night sky. The internal struggle raged on, torn between the loyalty to the Shogun and the growing conviction that there had to be another path, one that did not demand the sacrifice of countless lives. And so, Kujou Sara stood alone on the desolate beach, a conflicted figure silhouetted against the backdrop of a war-torn night, uncertain of the consequences that awaited her when the dawn finally broke.
As Sara stood alone on the desolate beach, the weight of her confession hung heavy in the air. The night clung to her like a shroud, and the distant echoes of war seemed to fade into the vast expanse of the sea. Sara's gaze remained fixed on the silhouette of the Shogun's palace, a looming presence in the moonlit darkness.
A gentle breeze rustled through her tengu feathers, carrying with it a sense of uncertainty and anticipation. The moments stretched on, pregnant with the unspoken verdict that awaited her. Would the Raiden Shogun acknowledge her vulnerability, or would she finally confront the blade’s end of the the Musou no Hitotachi. She wasn't sure which was worse. Time seemed to slow as Sara's mind raced with conflicting thoughts. The battlefield lay behind her, a scene of carnage and chaos, while the vast ocean stretched endlessly before her. She questioned the purpose of her loyalty, the nature of war, and the validity of her own strength.
In the stillness of the night, a figure approached. It was not the imposing presence of the Raiden Shogun but a familiar face. General Gorou, the man she had once fought ruthlessly on this very beach. His gaze held a mixture of understanding and empathy as he approached the conflicted tengu.
"You've carried a heavy burden, General," Gorou spoke, his voice a soothing balm to the turmoil within her. "The choices we make in the name of desperation and war can shape our destinies. But… strength is not just measured in the battles we win; it's also learned in the courage to question, to take a path beyond what we’ve grown up with."
Sara's eyes met Gorou's, finding a flicker of solace in his understanding. The weight of her revelation, her defiance, seemed momentarily lifted as she stood with another soul who bore witness to the toll of war. Yet, in this moment, his eyes were soft. If the eyes really were the windows of the soul, Gorou’s was friendly. Almost... forgiving.
Why?
She couldn’t hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds, before down casting her gaze back down to the sand in shame. His words carried a lot of weight, yet they were foreign. Kujou Sara was a fearsome Tenryou General, with no need for advice.
“It’s also about the lessons we learn along the way. Maybe even the friends we grow alongside too.” He continued to speak, albeit with more caution. “I heard there was a new ramen booth set to open on Ritou in the coming days with some decent sake. Do you think we’d get a veteran’s discount?”
The beach, once painted with the vivid hues of battle, now became a sanctuary of contemplation. The moon cast a silvery glow over the two generals, standing at the crossroads of their destinies. It was a moment suspended in time, where the ceaseless waves whispered secrets of both regret and redemption.
She was slow to wipe her face with the back of her glove, then stood up to brush the sand off her clothing. She did not deserve this. Though with that in mind, the Shogun had not shown herself either.
“I suppose it's worth an attempt."
When someone has nothing, it paves the way for everything.
