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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Thread Started on Sept 10, 2005, 3:23pm » | ![[Quote]](http://s2.images.proboards.com/buttons/quote.gif "[Quote]") |
Fantasy’s Heart
Lost City of the Yaukamusai
Silence Reigns Supreme
To the eyes of man, the Earth was a vast place, seemingly endless and hardly fathomable. They were content, simply to live in their small corners of the world, unconcerned about happenings outside of it. No wonder that they were not deemed prepared to know of the never-ending expanses beyond! The lesser and greater beings, the forms and energies who controlled so much of their unwitting lives. The worlds and dimensions stretching out into oblivion. . . . But no. Life would go on as it always had. Quiet, and simple, as Humans tended to prefer it. Unless, of course, a chance fate might happen across them. - Or, was anything really chance?
CRASH!
A series of shouts came from the large, added room of the Kamatari residence as yet another item came crashing to the floor in shattered pieces.
“Oh, crap!” Aita Tatsuma tossed aside his bamboo sword and hurried to try and retrieve the shards of the broken glass vase. Young Natsu Kamatari quickly joined him, scooping up the bits regardless of the small scratches they kept inflicting to his hands.
“Natsu! Aita! What happened?!”
Oh boy, now they were in for it.
Eight-year-old Natsu glanced back over his shoulder at the door as he tried to think of a place to hide the broken bits. “Nothing mother! We’re just practicing!”
Aita hurried to one of the twin windows in the room and fought to pry it open. At the sound of approaching footsteps, the twenty-year-old young man managed to shove it open and quickly tossed his armload of glass shards out and onto the terrace outside.
Natsu scrambled across the room with his fists full of the shattered pieces, making for the open window. Unfortunately for the boy, Aita had discarded his practice sword in the direct center of the room.
The boy tripped and fell hard onto the wooden floor, just as the door slid open.
Rioko watched in open-mouthed silence as bits of glass skittered across the floor to land at the feet of guilty-looking Aita.
The young man instantly pointed an accusing finger at Natsu. “Your son broke another vase, miss Kamatari.”
Natsu glared indignantly from his undignified position on the ground. “I did not! I’m not even tall enough to reach that high!”
“You are when you use your bamboo sword!”
“The angle isn’t right!” Came the righteously angered reply. “Look!”
The boy hoped up, littering more bits of glass from his gonshi, and picked up his training weapon. He stood where he had been during the time of the incident, and swung the sword in various different directions, each time missing where the glass piece had stood.
“See?!” He cried, dropping the sword and glaring at Aita.
“The person would have to be taller, and standing on the opposite side!” He jutted a finger to where Aita had been standing.
A large sweat drop slid down the back of the swordsman’s head, and he stood rigidly with a blameworthy look on his face.
“I. . . . Just remembered that. . . . . I was supposed to . . . . . help Kamatari and Kuroda fix Old Man Isho’s broken door. . . . .” Aita muttered, inching towards the open doorway.
Before Rioko had a chance to berate him, the young man had already taken to his heels and fled the house.
Rioko shook her head with a sigh, stooping doen to help her son collect the broken bits of glass on the floor. “Sometimes I worry about him.”
* * *
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #1 on Sept 10, 2005, 3:23pm » | |
It had been four years, now, since Komatsu’s last battle. - It had been his duel with Aita himself, the only son of Ukaru Tatsuma. But in a peaceful town like Sasing, such troubles were quickly forgotten.
Aita had quickly come to terms with the knowledge of what his father had truly been, and it had not taken him much longer to come to like living in the Kamatari household. Although the frequently visiting Kouji had never taken a liking to him, and Sho-Shiken seemed to constantly give him a cold shoulder, young Natsu Kamatari had adopted the Tatsuma boy as his third uncle.
Natsu, in question, had had two willing teachers when he came of age to learn swordplay. Both Sho-Shiken and Aita. Komatsu, - despite his being forced to take up his sword after he had foresworn it - had stayed true to his decision to end the Yaukamusai line with himself. He watched with pleasure and amusement as his son was taught to fight, and marveled at the speed at which he learned. - But notwithstanding the please of his only child, Koma refused to take part in the training himself. -
Rioko, on the other hand, had been more than happy to offer her knowledge of hand-to-hand combat when the lessons began. This too, Natsu had picked up with uncanny precision. Now, at the young age of seven - just two years after he had begun training - Natsu was easily holding his own in matches against Aita.
Life, overall, was peaceful for the former adventurers. - For now, at least. But reprieves can never last forever.
* * *
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #2 on Sept 10, 2005, 3:24pm » | |
When Silence is Broken
Aita met up with Komatsu and the Taishen swordsman, Sho-Shiken, half way to Old Man Isho’s hut. The two older swordsman threw the younger a look.
“Aita. - Whatever happened to helping us with Isho’s door?” Komatsu questioned, raising an eyebrow. Before the young man could answer, a load of broken wood was dumped unceremoniously into his arms by Sho-Shiken.
“No matter. - When you are done delivering this to Eikani’s shop you can finish the laundry.”
A pair of sweat-drenched gonshi’s were tossed to Aita as he struggled beneath the weight of the wood.
“These smell like crap!” He shouted ahead to the two men making their way back to the house.
“They should, we’ve been working for hours in this sun.” Komatsu called back, not bothering to offer him any help. “Next time maybe you’ll actually show up to help.”
“Phew.” Aita wiped the back of his hand across his forehead as he deposited the load of wood on the carpenter’s front deck.
The young swordsman glanced up at the blazing noonday sun, squinting against the glare. Mid summer, and not a thing to do to pass the time.
Natsu had dedicated himself to his training; Rioko had taken up waving, Komatsu had become the village do-gooder and while he wasn’t teaching Natsu, Sho-Shiken was always whittling something or the other out of a scrap of wood.
Dull. It all seemed so dull. Working with Natsu had become a daily routine, but sparing with a child half your size is only entertaining for so long. Sho-Shiken occasionally agreed to square off against him in a friendly duel, but aside from that, life was running slower than the creeping stream outside the village.
He had to figure out something.
“Hmmph. How is it I get stuck doing the laundrey?” The young man muttered, pinning up Komatsu’s dark green gonshi. “It’s not like it’s my clothing.”
“Yah, you should try washing them once in a while.”
Aita turned at the sound of Komatsu’s voice, then turned back to his work.
“What now?” He grumbled, scrubbing the material half-heartedly.
“Nothing at all.” Komatsu replied, picking up a piece of white linen and pinning it up with the rest of the clothes. “Just wondering how you were faring with the lack of action around here.”
“It’s deader than a grave in this place!” Aita exclaimed, shaking the piece of clothing violently to rid it of excess water. “Why can’t we be attacked by a swarm of bandits or something??”
Komasu chuckled, taking the cloth from him and wringing it.
“We should be thankful that we haven’t had any trouble in so long.”
Aita blew an exasperated breath. Here it came, the lecture on how he was warmongering and too hot-headed. How everything was supposed to run smoothly and he should be more grateful. He’d heard it all before from the other villagers.
“But I do know what you mean.”
“Huh?” Komatsu’s statement caught Aita by surprise.
“Peaceful it one thing.” Komatsu clarified. “But it’s been more dull than anything else.” He smiled at Aita’s bewildered expression. “I know what you mean, when you say you wish some conflict would happen. - We men need something to do in times as slow as this.”
“Not much chance of that.” Aita muttered, swishing the soapy water about with his hand. “This place is doomed to a slow and silent death of dullness.”
Both men stopped and turned their heads at the sound of pattering feet. The back door to the house slid open to reveal Rioko in the doorway. “Komatsu, there’s someone here to see you.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Reply #3 on Sept 10, 2005, 3:24pm » | |
Beings in a World of Myth
A few minutes later all of the house’s occupants had gathered in the roomy sitting room. The caller, a young woman swathed in white robes, sat delicately in one of the padded chairs. She was silent for a long moment, seeming to observe each person in turn, - in great detail, no less. She studied them with strange, white eyes that unsettled ever the ever stolid Sho-Shiken.
Komatsu was the one to finally break the silence.
Coughing politely, he addressed the mysterious stranger. “So. . . . What is it you wished to speak with me about? - You said the matter was urgent.”
The woman gave a slight nod, and a white strand of hair fell free into her face.
“Yes, the matter of which I come to speak of is indeed urgent. - Although I do not believe that it involves these others in the least.”
Komatsu glanced around at the aforementioned ’others’. “These are my family and close friends. Whatever it is that concerns me should come freely to them as well.”
“This is not an affair of usual matter.” The woman persisted in a strange, echoing voice.
“And what do you consider ‘usual matters’ to be?” Komatsu questioned, exasperation beginning to creep into his voice.
“Destruction of villages, sworn oaths, duels to the death and threats on the life of you and your family.” Came the ready, and somewhat eerie answer.
“Things almost foreign to people of normal birth, and all too familiar to you; Those are normal matters, Komatsu Kamatari. And as I have said, this is not one of them.”
Aita rose from his seat, glaring suspiciously at the stranger. “I don’t know who the heck you are, but you’re going to tell us right now how you know so much about Kamatari!”
The woman turned her eerie gaze towards the young swordsman. “There is no need to become so upset, Aita Tatsuma. I am not your enemy.”
Aita froze in his place, and felt compelled to take his seat once more. How did she know so much? It was so strange.
“But to the point.” The robe-clad stranger turned once more to Komatsu.
“I come to discuss your blood, son of Yaukamusai.”
“His blood?” Sho-Shiken chimed in, becoming suspicious in turn. “If you have come here to threaten -”
“I have already stated that I am not your enemy.” The woman made clear. “I mean no harm, although time is of the essence. - So if there will be no farther intervention. . .”
All present fell perfectly still, making no attempts to speak.
“Now, allow me to continue.” Her attention was once more on Koma. “When I spoke of your blood, what I meant by it was your origins. - Do you know where you come from, Komatsu?”
The swordsman nodded slightly. “Yes. I was born of Shisae fathered by Tomeko and raised in the village Kioto.”
The stranger smiled knowingly. “Ah, yes, your mother. She was the one, I can feel it now. . . . But to continue; do you know anything beyond that? Where your forebears came from, where it is your bloodlines trace back to?”
Komatsu shrugged slightly. “I honestly don’t know. My father was native to Kioto, born and raised there as his family had been for generations. - My mother was a wandering songstress. . . . . I. . . . . . Know nothing else of her past.”
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
The question caught Komatsu off guard.
“Yes.” He answered, her image suddenly coming to him. Images. . . . He did not imagine that he’d seen before. “She was frail and slender. . . With milky skin and hair the color of freshly fallen snow. . . And her eyes. . .”
He trailed off, and his head suddenly came up to stare directly into the stranger’s face. “Her eyes were like yours. White, like wisps of cloud. - No one else had eyes like that.”
The woman chuckled airily, and indeed, the laughter seemed to come from the air instead of from her. “That’s right. I see my being here is reawakening those things which have been buried. - I can only imagine what will surface one you are there.”
“Once I am where?” Komatsu asked, leaning slightly forward. He could feel his pulse quicken for reasons he was unsure of.
“Komatsu, from where did your father learn the sword-style you call Yaukamusai?”
“From the master of the village.”
“And what was his name?”
The man had to think a moment before producing the answer. “Ishi. - Master Ishi Shuko.”
The stranger nodded slightly. “Yas. Ishi, apprentice to Yoshu, who in turn was the son of Getsu, who’s bloodlines can be traced back to. . .”
She chuckled again. “And Shisae’s own father was Hashi, brother of Gesu. . . . Both od your parents were linked wither by blood or by spirit to our lord Hisoki. - He was right about you, Komatsu.” Her eyes met the swordsman’s in a lock. “I believe that you can help us.”
Komatsu tore himself away from the entrancing gaze.
“What are you talking about? Explain your intentions clearly or I will have to ask you to leave.”
The woman’s light laugh seemed to be carried away by a non-existent breeze.
“Komatsu Kamatari, do you truly believe that you are the last? The only remaining child of Yaukamusai?”
Her audience was suddenly captive, each leaning forward slightly to catch the stranger’s next words.
“ ‘Yaukamusai’ did not originate in Kioto.”
The robed woman announced quietly, a smile playing about her lips.
“Your father’s grandmaster brought the swordplay bearing that name to the village. But he came from a secret place, kept sacred and hidden for the entirety of it’s existence. - It is there, Komatsu, where I wish to take you.”
“What. . . . Is this place you speak of?” Komatsu questioned, his voice hushed.
The stranger bowed her head with a slight smile.
“The lost city of the Yaukamusai.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #4 on Sept 10, 2005, 3:25pm » | |
Shadows of the Past
“No, I won‘t be going back with you.”
“W-what??” Aita’s hair nearly stood on end with shock. “Komatsu what are you saying?!” He demanded, grabbing him by his gonshi collar “We’re talking about your past! Pieces of your life you never even knew about!!”
“That is not my life.” Komatsu calmly but firmly dislodged the young man’s grip on his clothing. His emerald gaze traveled to the sword, which had been returned to it’s place on the fireplace mantle. “That blade is the only link and reminder that I ever had a life outside this village. - And that is how I wish it to remain.”
“Uh - But Komatsu.” Sho-Shiken intervened, rising slightly from his kneeling position. “You. . . Do not wish to know about the origins of your father and mother? Where it is you come from?”
“It will bring me no comfort.” The man stated, standing to his feet and taking a few paces towards the large, un-blinded window. Village life bustled on as people went about their daily chores and duties. “This is my life now. - It is simple and free of complication. . . I’m happy here. . . . Bringing me to walk through shadows of a distant past could only bring doubt or painful memories. . . I want of nothing, here.”
The stranger listened, seemingly undaunted by Komatsu’s fixated opinion.
“I thought that, perhaps, you would no be so easy to sway.” She commented quietly, a faint light radiating from her eyes. “As did my brother. - It is good, then, that he returned the spirit to this world.” She smiled in a secretive way, and although he was turned away, Komatsu felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt a question come to his lips, but he couldn’t seem to voice it The man turned back to face the woman, and her smile persisted.
“My name is Chigireguma, maiden being of the Clouds. Mine is a secreted people, little known to mortals of this world.” Slender fingers untied the string at her throat. The gray-white robes fell away and her full self was revealed.
Her skin was as pale as thin parchment, and her eyes held no color. Her hair was long and flowing, - no, floating. It faded from a solid white at the roots, down to wispy, translucent tips which floated gently about her knees. Her garments - if they were garments, and not a part of her - were like her hair. Pure white and fading from opaque to sheer.
Overall, the woman did indeed look to be made of cloud.
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #5 on Sept 10, 2005, 3:26pm » | |
Komatsu stared at the strange and beautiful sight for only the briefest of moments before turning his gaze elsewhere. “There are many mystical things in this world, and you are not the first I have encountered. - This changes nothing.”
“It was not meant to.” Came the calm reply. “My revealing my true self was meant only as explanation as to what I am about to do.”
Komatsu turned slowly back, and all eyes where on Chigireguma as the being extended her hands, and her palms began to glow.
Aita took a quick step backwards as the air around him began to pulsate.
“Wh-what’s she doing??! Hey! Knock it off, lady!”
There were sharp intakes of breath all around as visible energy seemed to gather before the cloud being’s hands, forming into something. - The silhouette of a person.
There was a final, bright pulse of force and when the light faded, it was no longer simple energy gathered there.
A young woman, - at least what appeared to be a young woman - stood in the center of the room. She was garbed in a simple, pale silk robe and her feet were bare. Her long, wave-filled black hair touched past her knees and brushed lightly against her pale face. Shining, dark brown eyes peered out at the spectators from beneath full black lashes.
“Oh. . . . Wow.” Aita gaped, not noticing that his jaw had come unhinged at the sight. “Now that’s what I call a good-looking girl.”
Sho-Shiken’s firm hand clamped the young man’s jaw back into place as he cast him a slight glare.
“Stop gawking, Aita. - I am uncertain, but I think I may know who that is. . .” The swordsman’s amber gaze went to Komatsu, searching for confirmation of his suspicion.
Komatsu didn’t seem to remember that anyone else was in the room and his companions went completely unnoticed. His eyes were fixated on the image that had just appeared before him, and his voice seemed to falter. He eventually managed a single word.
“Kita.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Reply #6 on Sept 21, 2005, 12:14pm » | |
What Will be Shall Simply be
“I - is it really. . . .?”
The apparition nodded slightly, a gentle smile on her lips. “It’s been such a long time, Koma.”
Komatsu’s heart skipped a beat as the image of his past love’s death paled face flashed in his mind. “But you. . . . Ukaru, - he. . .”
“Yes, he killed me.” Came the quiet answer. “Ten years ago I met my end.”
“Then. . . . You. . .”
“She’s come back as an angel!!”
Everyone turned at the sound of Aita’s outburst. The young man’s eyes shone melodramatically and he looked as if his heart might pound out of his chest.
“Keep your emotions in check, Tatsuma.” Sho-Shiken ordered, landing a firm, almost threatening hand on his shoulder. “She was Komatsu’s love when he was a youth. - And it’s far more likely that she is a ghost.” He added as an afterthought.
“Ghost, spirit, apparition - Yes, I suppose that all of those words would apply.”
Kita commented softly, glancing over her shoulder at Chigireguma. “I was here even before, but - the Cloud mistress made me to be seen by you all.”
“Then. . . You’re not. . . ?”
With a faint smile, Kita reached a pale hand to Komatsu’s face. She made as if to caress his cheek, but her hand passed through him like a wisp of cloud.
“I have not returned in flesh, if that is what you mean.”
Something seemed to suddenly occur in Komatsu’s mind, and his eyes widened. “Then you have been here all this time? As a spirit?”
“No.” The apparition assured him. “I went on into the next world long ago, after you defeated Ukaru and allowed yourself to start down your true path.” Here she cast an almost grateful smile at Rioku. “And now I am pleased to see that all my hopes for you have come to be.”
“If your spirit truly did pass on,” Sho-Shiken intruded after a moment. “Then how is it that you are returned to this world?”
“That is a question best addressed to me, I believe.” Chigireguma stepped in. “She did not come back of her own will, but by the powers of one of my kind.
My brother has devoted all of his long life to his trainings, and after hundreds of years has mastered the ability to not only make spirits appear, but to cast them out of or bring them into, the physical world. It was he who returned her.”
Komatsu had yet another inquiry for the shadow from his past. “But why? Why were you brought back here?”
“Chigireguma and her people did not think that you would listen.” Came the humored reply. “And they believed that I would convince you.”
“To go to the Lost City?!” Natsu butted in suddenly, unable to contain himself any longer.
Kita smiled down at the eager-faced boy and nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” Her gaze went back to Komatsu. “I know that you have no desire to revisit your past, or to stray from this peaceful life you lead. - But this is a matter that goes beyond the wishes of any one man.”
Komatsu and the rest of his company looked thoroughly confused, but focused their attention fully on the apparition as she continued.
“Chigireguma has not yet told you, but the place of your origin is in danger, Koma. It is called the Lost City because no mortal has ever been through it’s gates, and few living have seen it. It is protected, by a wind spirit named Rishin. A veil has been over the place for hundreds of years, concealing it from human eyes. . . . But. . . .”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Reply #7 on Sept 21, 2005, 12:27pm » | |
“Something has happened to him.” Chigireguma picked up.
“For some reason our lord Rishin’s powers are failing and the barrier protecting the city will soon dissipate completely.”
“And the problem with that is. . . ?” Aita prompted.
The cloud being’s silvery white eyes flitted to the young man. “Humans and mortals such as yourself will be able to see it as we do, and there will be nothing to stop them entering.”
“Sounds like it will be good for you guys to get out a little.” Came the nonchalant comment from Aita. “Meet some new people, see that us ‘mortals’ aren’t all that bad.”
“They come to destroy us.” Chigireguma stated, a hint of a chill in her voice. “When the barrier began to fade, allowing glimpses of the City to the humans, they began to gather in mass about the city. Warriors, raiders, bandits and treasure seekers, all waiting for the final failing of the shield. We have no more warriors. The Swordsmen of Yaukamusai have all passed on. That art was not needed in the Lost City, and so the young ones stopped apprenticing themselves to the masters, and began taking up arts of healing and farming. The masters, - the old ones - have all either died or left. When the time comes that our veil falls, - our city will come to ruin.”
“Why didn’t you say so before??” Natsu cried suddenly, leaping to his feet. “We’ll help!”
“Natsu, please. . .” Komatsu began as his son turned to face him, conviction written all over his young face.
“Father, we can’t just stay here in peace like there is nothing wrong in the world, while there are bandits gathering! And it’s your city too, it’s part of who you are!”
Komatsu’s first instinct was to argue the statement, to claim that they could do nothing against so many, and that it would be pointless. But something inside stopped him. Could he really stand by as a slaughter took place? Even if he could not stop it, if his presence there made even the smallest difference. . . Could he live with himself having the knowledge that he did nothing?
All eyes were on Komatsu as thoughts rushed through his mind in a seemingly endless torrent. He finally met their gazes after a long moment of silence.
“I’ll need my sword.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #8 on Sept 28, 2005, 2:25pm » | |
Sword Song Reborn
By nightfall, haversacks had been packed, traveling gear had been set out and all arrangements had been made. - The aforementioned arrangements themselves took only a matter of an hour, though the time beforehand had been wearily spent by arguments. In the end, Komatsu had submitted to the stubbornness of his wife and child, and grudgingly allowed them to accompany himself, Aita and Sho-Shiken to the City.
Rioko and young Natsu had fallen to sleep in their beds almost instantly, getting plenty of rest for the journey that lay ahead of them. Aita had followed suit soon afterwards, dreams of a long past due adventure dancing in his head.
The cloud being, Chigireguma, had vanished shortly after Komatsu’s final decision, and much to the swordsman’s reborn heartache, so had Kita.
It was well past midnight, and sleep yet evaded Komatsu. He sat awake on the side of his bed, unable to quiet his mind. The rest of the house was silent and still, nothing to disturb his racing thoughts. . . He needed fresh air, something to take his overworking mind off of the events of the day.
A quietly as he could, Komatsu slipped into his heavy, deep green gonshi and crept out of the room. He made his way into the sitting room and towards the door, careful not to disturb Sho-Shiken who appeared to be sleeping on the rush mat on the floor.
“Stop your creeping, Komatsu, I’m not asleep.”
The man stopped and looked to the side, noticing now that his friend’s amber eyes were open.
“I was only going out for a breath of air.”
“I imagine so.” Came the understanding reply. “You have much to think about.”
“Of course I do.” Komatsu said, almost too hastily. “I’ve just been informed that I am not the last of my people, and tomorrow we travel to a city that no human on this earth knows exists.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Slowly, Komatsu turned to look at Sho-Shiken, feeling his predatory yellow eyes boring through him.
“Seeing her again. . . . . It’s impacted you more than you’ve been willing to let on.”
Komatsu’s gaze went down to the floor. Once again, his Taishen companion had seen right through him. With a sigh, he knelt nearby on the floor.
“I’ve. . . Tried so hard to forget her. . . And I thought that I had.”
“You can never really forget about someone you’ve loved.” Sho-Shiken counseled quietly, his tone understanding. “And I see it in your eyes, when you do battle. - You still fight for her, - in her memory.”
“Nobody should have to suffer her fate.” The Yaukamusai swordsman imparted. “If I can help it, I won’t let dark-hearted men take the lives of the innocent ever again.”
“And I’ll be there to help you.”
The two swordsman locked gazes, as they had so many years ago at their first meeting, and the same shared fire still burned in their eyes. Whatever was to come, their fates were somehow tied and Komatsu felt both comforted, and strangely terrified.
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #9 on Sept 28, 2005, 6:16pm » | |
* * *
“It’s morning! Wake up everybody!!”
Natsu ran through the house, tripping over a soundly sleeping Sho-Shiken and slamming into his parents’ door with a bang. Undaunted, the eight-year-old began pounding on the woodwork. “Mother, father wake up! C’mon, we’re going to the Lost City today! It’s almost dawn already!!”
By the time the sun was peeping over the horizon, a groggy troupe of travelers had left the village and were making their way over the rolling grasslands. The air was quite dry, and there was no chill even at the early hour, promising of another scorching day.
Everyone carried their own belongings, though Aita’s bad luck had sung true once more, and he’d drawn the lot to carry the food provisions. Sho Shiken, as always, carried his blade strapped to his back, while Natsu sported his wooden training sword, carrying it pride fully in his hands. Aita had his own blade and sheath shoved into the over-sized pack he hed strapped-down and tied to his back, and Komatsu had taken up his old sword once more and now wore it at his side, as it had been for his years of wandering. He traveled with family and friends now, and yet, Komatsu couldn’t help but feel his past in every step he took away from Sasing. The swordsman looked to either side of him at his companions, and long gone images flashed in his vision, merging with the present.
Flirtatious and ever youthful Kouji prancing ahead, cares thrown to the wind, as Nakoma trailed timidly behind everyone. Rioko’s forest green eyes were unforgiving as she covered hurt with hate, forging on with the promise of avenging her brother. The ever stolid Sho-Shiken never took a wrong step on the uneven path, silently upholding his promise to see this quest through to it’s end. . . .
Komatsu shook his head, trying to lift the veil clouding his mind. No. It was different now. Kouji was back in his village, probably tormenting pretty girls, and Nakoma was with her family in Saberu. - And Rioko was nothing like she was then. The cold ice had melted from her eyes, and she had never expressed any desire to reclaim those old days.
Sho-Shiken alone remained unchanging, and seemingly unaltered in any way since their first journey together. Still serious and brooding, Komatsu told himself with a slight smile. Some things never changed.
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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Karma: 0 | | Re: Lost City of the Yaukamusai
« Reply #10 on Oct 1, 2005, 9:11pm » | |
Entrance to the Lost City
The trek lasted a full week, and at a fast pace. The glaring sun was against them the entire way, making the going less than pleasurable. Much to everyone’s relief, however, there was no complaining whatsoever from young Natsu. And so, at the week’s end, when Chigireguma called for a mid-morning hault to their journey, the travelers were more than ready to welcome their destination. - However. . .
“There’s nothing here!!”
Aita stared in miserable disbelief at the vast plane of waving grass before them. Chigireguma had announced that the city lay just beyond the woodland boundaries amidst the grasslands. - But. . .
“There’s absolutely nothing here!” Aita repeated himself, feeling the need to emphasize his discovery, or lack thereof.
“Hey, cloud lady! Just how big was this city of your supposed to be?” The young swordsman demanded, turning to Chigireguma with an accusing look. The being didn’t seem to acknowledge him, but turned her gaze towards Komatsu and the others.
“I will return in a few moments. I need to inform them that we have arrived.”
Before anyone could object, she had vanished into the air before their eyes.
“She ditched us!!” Aita cried, his facial expressions chancing comically between shock, anger, despair and confusion. “She dumped us in the middle of nowhere!”
“No, I do not think so.” Sho-Shiken commented from behind the young man. His amber eyes carefully scanned the grass-covered plane before them. “There is. . Something - here.”
“I agree.” Komatsu put in, coming to stand behind his friend. “I can’t really put my finger on it, but there is something quite large very nearby. . . . I keep imagining I see glimpses of it. . . Almost like wisps of cloud in a dream. . . .”
“Do you mean you can’t see it?”
Both swordsmen turned at the sound of Natsu’s incredulous question.
“What?”
The boy pointed a finger firmly in the direction of the empty space in front of them. “There. You can’t see anything there?”
“And you think you can, pint-size?” Aita asked doubtfully, turning to give his young friend a critical look.
Natsu nodded seriously. “There’s a big ghost city on top of a giant rock - like a mountain.”
Both Sho-Shiken and Komatsu looked somewhat doubtful, while a large sweat drop slid down the back of Aita’s head.
“A ghost city on a mountain, huh?” Aita repeated with a half-hearted smile. “Kid, I don’t mean to put a damper on your vivid imagination, but there’s nothing but a lot of grass in front of us.”
“Actually, the boy is more perceptive than any of you.” Chigireguma appeared suddenly behind everyone, as casual as if she had never been gone.
Aita pressed a hand to his thumping heart. “Don’t do that!! - Where the heck did you go, anyways?”
“I already informed you before I had left.” Came the ever patient reply. “I have informed the Elders that we have arrived. - They wish to meet with you all.”
“Yah, that’s great.” Aita waved it off. “Now what on this good earth was Natsu talking about, a ‘ghost city’?”
Chigireguma smiled almost condescendingly. “What he saw was not at all a ‘ghost’. The city is quite physical, but only those with high awareness and the blood of ascended beings in their veins can actually see it from the outside.” She glanced at Komatsu. “I find it surprising that the boy can visualize an image at all while his more pure-blooded father cannot.”
Before Komatsu had time to digest the statement and decide whether or not to take it as an insult, Chigireguma was off once more.
“We will have to grasp hands in order to pass through the barrier.”
“Oh, now how pansy is that?” Aita grumbled as Rioku obediently took hold of Natsu’s hand and Chigireguma grasped hers. “What’s next, do we all dance in a circle and throw flower petals? - Ow!” The young man winced as Sho-Shiken’s firm hand gripped his wrist in a non-gentle fashion.
Chigireguma took one last glance over her shoulder to assure herself that the human chain was unbroken, took three steps forward, pulling Rioku behind her, and promptly disappeared.
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Reply #11 on Oct 7, 2005, 8:43pm » | |
A surprised cry rose to Rioko’s lips as she watched their guide vanish in front of her, but before it could be given voice, she felt herself pulled forward.
The sensation was something akin to breaking the surface of a still pool of water. It lasted only a fraction of a second, however, and then Chigireguma was before her once more.
One by one, the entire company was led forward after Rioku, each watching as the person before them vanished, and then reappeared after they passed a set point.
Sho-Shiken was one of the last to step through, pulling Aita along behind him. The Taishen swordsman looked about with an expression of mild surprise. - His companions knew, of course, that it was a mask typically given to shock.
The landscape they were now in was nothing like the desolate grasslands they had just been standing in. Indeed, the best brief description had been given by Natsu; a huge city built atop a low mountain.
As far up the rocky walls as they could see, stone structures were built along the surfaces, or carved into the rock itself. Cherry and apple trees in full bloom grew from every nook and cranny than even hinted of a hospitable surface. All the structures that they passed seemed to be made of the same pale, rosy stone, and statuettes, some broken, some whole, lined the rough path.
Several minutes into the precarious journey , the path broadened. A row of budding cherry trees rose up on either side of the travelers, and a gentle breeze buffeted a handful of blossoms across their path. Two immense, stone carvings towered over the path, crafted from the same stone as the buildings. Both were likenesses of youthful men; the first was depicted in flowing robes, and had a kind, wise face. The second was obviously a swordsman, with his single-edged weapon sheathed at his side, and his carven face set with steely eyes. These massive statues guarded a stone archway, which led to what had to be the heart of the Lost City.
As the companions were led between the two guardians, Sho-Shiken’s attention was drawn to the one on his left; the swordsman. No more then half a second later, Komatsu felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as Sho-Shiken’s hand gripped it suddenly.
With a grimace, the Yaukamusai swordsman paused his step and turned to look at his friend. The other man didn’t give any acknowledgement, his wide-eyed gaze was zeroed in on the face of the statue. Komatsu followed his line of vision to the object which seemed to draw so much interest, and he felt his own heart skip a beat.
The stance, the face, the eyes, - even the long, tied hair. . . It was an exact likeness of Komatsu. Except for a series of delicate designs chiseled on the forehead and cheekbones, there was no difference.
“I see you’re admiring our carven guardians.”
Chigireguma’s remark seemed to brake the stunned trance, and the swordsmen turned to face the woman. Komatsu tried to conjure up the questions which bombarded his mind, but the Cloud Being spoke once more before he could do so.
“The one to your right is our lord And protector; the Wind spirit, Rishin. This one with which you both seem so fascinated is our now departed founder; The first Element-Human hybrid, Hisoki Yaukamusai.
“Yaukamusai?” Sho-Shiken repeated after a moment, also turning to face Chigireguma. “Do you mean to say that - ?”
The woman nodded as she was once more assaulted by expectant stares from the group of travelers.
“He began the Lost City, and is the physical and spiritual father of all you see here.”
There was a brief moment of silence before anyone could think of a response, and Chigireguma took full advantage of the instant. She hurried forward through the archway.
“Come. - The Elder Counsel is awaiting your arrival in their court.- They are eagre to meet the remaining descendant of Hisoki Yaukamusai.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #12 on Oct 11, 2005, 7:03pm » | |
Legacy of the Yaukamusai
“Th. . . . These are the Elders?”
Komatsu stared unashamedly at the five people seated before him. At the words ‘Elder Counsel’ the swordsman had instinctively envisioned a committee of elderly men and woman perched in oversized chairs and looking to be on the verge of extinction. But these ‘Elders’ - There wasn’t a single wrinkle on any one of them. In fact, a more vibrant and youthful group of people Komatsu had never seen. Not one of them looked to be over their mid twenties.
“They may look to be only youth in your eyes, Komatsu.” Chigireguma whispered at the man’s side. “But believe me when I say that these are the eldest and most respected of the Yaukamusai people who dwell here.
Komatsu shook his head sharply, recalling that he actually possessed a thing called courtesy, and bowed to the counsel.
One of the members, a young man with shoulder-length black hair and amethyst eyes spoke up. “Chigireguma was right in saying that you have his likeness. Lord Hisoki’s spirit must indeed live revived within you.”
“But he could not see the City.” A woman with flowing golden hair objected.
“His abilities may be quite dormant.” Another, a girl with short purple hair and orange eyes chimed in.
“Chigireguma did inform us that his mothers memories were toughed upon only the week before this.” Another young man - this one with vine-like markings imprinted on his face - contributed.
Komatsu hardly restrained himself from shuffling uneasily. All these mysterious beings observing him as if he were some sort of new insect. - And they spoke as if he was not even in the chamber, or as if he could not hear them.
On they went in their own argument on whether or not Komatsu was the spiritual heir of their former Lord, and all the while Komatsu grew more and more perturbed. It was not until several minutes had passed that the last Elder, who looked like a male, mirror-image of Chigireguma, raised a hand for silence.
“I apologize, Komatsu Kamatari. We of the Counsel often forget ourselves when debating a matter of importance. But you need not be here for this discussion.”
Komatsu started to breathe a sigh of relief, but stopped himself for fear of seeming rude.
“You know your purpose in this place?” The pale-skinned man inquired.
Komatsu nodded firmly. “I am to assist your defense against the gathering horde of bandits and raiders.”
An air of solemnity seemed to fall over most of the counsel members, but the male Cloud Being smiled slightly and nodded. “Correct. But believe we have some time before the barrier fails, and this is the place of your ancestors. - Please, you and your companions take some time to discover our city, and enjoy yourselves.”
Komatsu bowed deeply, and his companions behind him followed suit. The Counsel members acknowledged them with slight nods, and at a slight motion from one of them, the large double doors at the chamber swung slowly inwards.
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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Legends start where heroes fell. . .
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« Reply #13 on Oct 11, 2005, 8:10pm » | |
It was only moments later that the travelers were back into open space, and all felt as if they could breath once more. - Not that the chamber had been notably stuffy - in fact, it was hardly a chamber. The numerous windows had all been flung open to allow generous sunlight, and plants of all kinds lined the walls to either side of the door. The element which stole their breaths away, Komatsu reasoned, was the amazing power compacted within the space. They had all felt it, though some more than others; these youthful-looking Elders practically pulsated with energy, filling the air with strange auras. It was not necessarily a dire thing, but it mad even the stony Sho-Shiken to come unsettled. All seemed to welcome the openness of the outside, - except, strangely enough, for young Natsu. The boy had seemed perfectly at peace in the counsel chamber, and if Komatsu didn’t know better, he’d have sworn that his son had been feeding off of the potent energies.
* * *
“So then, this is the Lost City of the Yaukaumusai.”
Aita’s statement seemed blatantly obvious, but nobody seemed to mind. - After all, they had all been almost disturbingly quiet for the past hour as they traversed the massive city. - And they still had yet to take the whole of it in.
The place was amazing, to say the very least. Architectural wonders made of pale lavender stone, towered into the sky. Courtyards of rock, and some of marble, were everywhere, each one softened by the ever present plant life.
The plants themselves seemed to be treated with the most meticulous of care. Perfectly arranged beds of flowers; emerald seas of waving grass; towering oaks, as old as time itself; ancient bonsai; blossom-laden fruit trees. - It was all there, blending with the awesome buildings as if the two elements had forever belonged together.
Streams, too, flowed in plotted courses all throughout the city. Some in hand-crafted beds of stone, others in their natural states. These were accented masterfully by lotus-filled ponds which graced different locations around the place.
Never had any mortal seen any place so beautiful.
Partway through one of the stone courtyards, Komatsu and his company paused at a sudden sound. - The sound itself was nothing unusual, but after the silent serenity they had trekked through for the past hour or more, any normal human sound seemed estranged.
While everyone was still trying to place what exactly it was that they were hearing, a troupe of laughing and shouting children bolted around the side of a building like a herd of stampeding cattle. - Their reason for gleefully fleeing was not long in coming.
From around the same corner from which the children had come, a young man came running. He spotted the group of giggling young ones immediately, and in an instant the group was off running and squealing again.
“Come now, give it back!” The man began to give chase once more, much to the children’s delight. “The lot of you will be in for a world of trouble if you don’t!”
Their faces flushed with exuberance, the pursued changed directions and headed back the way they had come.
“Alright, now I’ve warned you all for long enough. - Game’s over!”
With his final warning, the pursuing man shoved off from the ground, vaulting over the heads of the still gleeful children, and landing mere inches in front of the ring leader.
“Aha. And once more I win.”
Komatsu could see, now, as the man stood, what is was that he had grabbed at in mid leap. A sheathed sword was held well above the heads of the clamoring group of kids, all of which strove valiantly to recover it.
The stranger turned, suddenly, noticing the group of newcomers for the first time. He smiled slightly at them, currently unable to bow with the young ones clinging to his arms and legs.
“Hullo there.”
Komatsu bowed slightly in return. “Hello. - You would be one of the residents of this city?”
The stranger shook his head, a mess of black hair falling over his face as he held the sword a bit higher, out of the reach of a daring boy who was attempting to climb him like a tree.
“Not at all, actually. - I’m only here at the request of the Elders. - As I suppose you are as well.”
“Well guessed.” Komatsu confirmed. “And I am guessing by sight of your weapon there, that we may be working together in the matter for which we were summoned here.”
“The people here can’t keep their eyes off of a blade.” The man remarked seeming to have completely sobered from his gallivanting a few moments ago. “I think it may have something to do with the dying out of their own swordsmen. - Although, I’ve heard them all talking about a remaining member of that line. - The last of their swordsmen, that is. Last I heard, the lady Chigireguma was sent out to find him.”
“You would be looking at him!!” Aita announced suddenly, shoving his was forward between Komatsu and Sho-Shiken. “This guy right here. This is Komatsu Kamatari, and he’s come to save his people!” The young man hooked an arm around Komatsu’s neck, and Sho-Shiken pried him off.
The man seemed to look at Komatsu with a new respect. “You are the one, then? The one the Elders say will lead them to victory.”
“And this is Rioku, his wife.” Aita butted in once again. “Natsu, his pint-sized kid; Sho-Shiken Kuroda, the swordsman who is famous for his lack of a smile; and me, Aita Tatsuma, swordsman extraordinaire. We’re his friends, and we are also going to lead these people to victory.”
The stranger - now freed of the children since they had run off in search of other entertainment - bowed politely. “It is an honor to meet you all. My name is Kinashi Batasou, and a look forward to fighting alongside you.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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Fantasy
Batasou
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« Reply #14 on Oct 16, 2005, 10:05pm » | |
The Swordsman from the West
“That sure is curious.” Aita commented unexpectedly, looking the newly introduced man over. “You seem eager for a fight, and yet two seconds ago you were playing with those kids like you were one of them.”
“Sounds like you.” Natsu piped up throwing a grin at his older friend. Aita retaliated with a glare.
The swordsman, Kinashi, smiled slightly. “I suppose the childish element is a new development. - But my want for a fight has always been there.”
“Like Komatsu.” Aita put in, taking a turn at being the local annoyance. “He used to be almost a legend, with his stone gaze and his naked blade. . . . .. And then he got married and went soft.”
“And who used to be dead-set on vengeance and was convinced that swords solved everything?” Komatsu countered with a side-ways glance at Aita. The latter shot off his famous glare and muttered something about still solving problems with swords.
Kinashi smiled at their bickering. “I suppose we three are of one accord on the matter, then. - I myself was never contented with peace until I took a bride. . . Or more accurately, until she took me as her own.”
“Oh, peachy. This is going to be one of those sickening love tales, isn’t it?” Aita inquired, looking quite ill.
“Not if you don’t wish it to be.” Kinashi told the young swordsman with a grin.
“Romances aside,” Sho-Shiken spoke up. “Where is it you come from? Your weapon is not one common to this land or any of those nearby.”
The other swordsman gripped one hand on his black leather hilt, and drew forth the aforementioned weapon.
Komatsu, nor anyone other than Sho-Shiken, had noticed before that the sword’s hilt was forged in a pronged fashion, almost like that of a sia. The blade itself was straight as an arrow’s shaft, and double bladed - far different than the curved single-edged swords used by swordsman in all the nearby lands.
Natsu pointed a finger in open-mouthed awe. “That sword has two sides!”
“It’s used in the lands to the far west.” Sho-Shiken stated, his eyes trained on the blade. “I’ve seen some of them displayed in Takeda as a show of force. . . But . . . . I’ve never before met someone who wielded one.”
“Just how far did you travel to get here?” Komatsu questioned, looking something akin to amazed himself.
“I do not know the distance.” Kinashi replied, glancing over his shoulder to where a grassy plain gave way to a sheer cliff, and where could be seen plains and the forest’s edge beyond. “But we traveled for well over a month by horseback.”
“ ‘We’ being. . . ?” Rioku inquired, taking a turn at bombarding the newcomer with questions.
“Our guide - a Chaos Harbinger- , my wife and our son.”
“Your wife and child?!” Rioku repeated incredulously. “But this place is headed for an unavoidable battle, it is not a place to be bringing. . .”
She trailed off as she felt the gazes of all of her male companions fall on her, and a sweat drop slid down the side on her face. A blush spread over her face and she tried to shoo off the onlookers. “Don’t look at me like that! Natsu and I will stay out of trouble!”
Sho-Shiken was the first to turn his attention to the thoroughly embarrassed Rioku and back to Kinashi. “You mentioned a ‘Chaos Harbinger’.”
“That is an explanation I think would best be left to one of this city’s residences.” Kinashi deflected the question. “The beings here are. . . Complicated.”
“More importantly, and I promise this is the last question.” Natsu butted in, ready to make himself heard. “You said you had a son?”
Kinashi smiled slightly at the boy’s eagerness. “Yes, but he’s much younger than you. - A little over two years of age.”
“Wow . That is really young. - How come you brought him?” The supposed ’last question’ was never really the last.
“My wife, Seria, couldn’t force herself to part with either of us.” The swordsman explained. “And so they both accompanied me. . . And I think it will do all of us good to be away from that palace.”
. . . . .
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . .
A long moment passed in complete silence before Kinashi turned back to look at the others to see what was wrong.
It seemed as if every one of their jaws had come unhinged as they stared unashamedly at him. - Except for Sho-Shiken, who’s face registered no emotion at all. He was the first to make a reply.
“So. . . . You live in a palace then. Do you work there?”
Kinashi heaved a forlorn sigh and shook his head slightly. “If that were the case we would have fled the place long ago. . . . No. Seria inherited the throne three years ago. We are it’s hapless rulers.”
“H. . . h. . . h-h-hapless. . . . Rulers?” Aita repeated incredulously. “What reason would a pair of royals have to be hapless?!”
Kinashi smiled slightly, tilting his head to one side. “Seria was not born into a noble life, though it was in her blood. She was raised as the daughter of a farmer, without knowing who she really was throughout most of her life. . . . . The discovery that she was the only remaining heir to the Tyranian throne came as a great shock to us both. - Any plans she had had for her life were instantly forfeit.”
“What about you?” Rioku inquired. “Your not from a noble house either?” Kinashi actually laughed. “The farthest from! I was born into slavery.”
There was a long moment of silence, meanwhile Aita seemed to be looking Kinashi over carefully. Finally the son of Tatsuma waved a dismissive hand. “Alright, now you’re pulling out legs. You made this all up from a bard’s tale, didn‘t you?”
Kinashi said nothing, but did an about face and slipped the knot to his tunic. The dark blue material fell about his waist, leaving his torso bare.
Aita felt guilt knot his stomach as he observed the horrific scars that ran across the man’s back. One particularly nasty one ran over his right shoulder, and down the blade. So he’d been telling the truth.
“Some of those were made by the flat of a blade.” Sho-Shiken notted quietly.
“Belts, blades, canes. . . Anything sufficed when my master could find no whip.” Kinashi answered quietly, pulling the tunic back over his shoulders and smiling somewhat sadly. “The wound my right arm sustained was inflicted by the sharp of a sword, though. - Most of the nerves were severed, and it can no longer hold the weight of a sword.”
“And let me guess.” Aita chimed in once again, looking to save face after his last mistake. “Once that girl of yours was made queen, you were given to her as a slave, you fell in love and -”
“You really have listened to too many bard’s tales.” Kinashi remarked with a chuckle “I escaped my master of my own strength, and exacted vengeance before Seria had even set foot on the shores of her own kingdom.”
“Hey, Sho-Shiken, are you alright?”
The Taishen swordsman seemed to come out of a trance at the sound of Rioku’s voice, and shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You seemed like we lost you for a moment there.”
“It’s nothing.” Sho-Shiken assured her. “Just thinking of a bard’s tale I once heard myself.”
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“Five years ago you carried this sword in the name of vengeance. Lust for revenge had consumed you then, because of your quest. You take up the same blade now for love of your son. Do not become the swordsman that you were. Wield your blade now as the Yaukamusai Swordsman you were meant to be. No vengeance, no hate. See with eyes unclouded.” ~Sho-Shiken
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