Chapter One: Samurai
The wooden sword shot up, catching its mate in midair. The two swordsmen, practiced as they were, immediately disengaged, slashed again, then withdrew a pace. The older man held his blade at eye level, pointing into the heavens. He eyed his younger compatriot.
The younger man held his sword slightly different, in a stance with the blade held in front at waist level. The difference was more extreme than might be thought - the young man's blade was well-positioned to stab, while the older man was in place for a volley of slashes and parries.
The old one lunged, barely missing the young one, who dodged to the side. He leapt in the air over the old man, spun and slammed his blade towards the man's head. The old man was faster, though, and caught the attack, then slid in for a punch. The young man kept his cool, ducking the blow and delivering an elbow to the older man's gut as he came up.
While the man dropped back, fighting for breath, the young man raised his blade and slashed upward, kicking when the old man blocked. The older man scuttled out of the way with practiced ease, moved for his own kick, but the young man had disengaged already and was sliding around him. The blade knocked into the older man's shoulder, thumping when it made contact with the armor. The old man turned, knocking the younger man's sword away with one contemptuous thrust.
A foot hit the back of his knee and he dropped. A wooden sword-point touched his throat.
"Enough," a voice called over the pair.
The young man took an immediate step back, wiped his sword on the top of his scabbard before sheathing it, then helped the older man to his feet. After he put away his own blade, the older man stood stiff, facing the younger one. The two each placed their right fist into their left palm, keeping the left hand straight, and bowed deeply.
"You do out house honor, Kenichi," the voice called. "Shinzo, you have done magnficently. I thank and honor you."
"The honor is mine, Lord Daimyo," the older man called, bowing to the lord. He turned and left, recognizing the dismissal from the private training ring in the courtyard.
Keinchi Tenshiro bowed to the Daimyo. "I try, father," he said.
The Daimyo smiled and beckoned to his son. Kenichi hurried to his side, following behind him as he walked back into the estate.
"You are a skilled warrior, and well-learned in the ways of Bushido. You are a samurai in every way," the Daimyo said. Kenichi said nothing, mildly embarrassed. The Daimyo laughed. "You are much like your grandfather."
The two paused under the ornate main door. Above the frame was an engraving of a man seated cross-legged in meditation, palms facing upward, hands on knees. His eyes were closed and there was a look of peace on his face.
In one palm there was a raging bonfire, miniature horsemen galloping around it with bows. In the other was a beautiful cherry blossom, exquisitely painted - unlike the rest of the carving.
"In the right hand, he offers war and power," the Daimyo murmured. "In the left, he offers beauty and prosperity. They are exclusive, in the end. A true samurai knows this in his heart - and that neither is a good thing."
"Yes," Kenichi replied. "Too much fire in your heart leads to feelings of superiority, of dominance, of a desire to rule over all and a certainty of your own infallibility. Too much of the blossom leads to complacency and weakness."
"You must do as your grandfather taught and walk the middle road," the Daimyo nodded. "Our line was founded by the great Lighthearter. We are children of the Immortals, you and I. We have gifts that not many men do."
"We will live forever," Kenichi murmured. "We are faster than mortals, and stronger."
"But not smarter," the Daimyo replied. "Not
better by rule. We are
different, but we are not a greater people than the normal Japanese citizens simply through our abilities."
Kenichi was silent for a moment, then bowed to the relief of Lighthearter. "Where is he now?"
"He is in the mountains," The Daimyo shrugged. "My father oft remarked of the foolishness of his compatriots in immortality. He remains in isolation even greater than that of the wise wanderer Ravus Sol, never to come among us again."
"I would like to meet him, someday," Kenichi murmured. The Daimyo said nothing for several moments.
"I have received a letter, Kenichi," he finally said. "It is from Isoruku Yamamoto. He wants you to join the Shogun's Swords."
Kenichi's eyes widened. "I am not that skilled!"
"If the commander of the Shogun's Own believes you are ready to fight with him, then you are ready, my son," the Daimyo laughed. "I have not replied - this is your decision. I would urge you to accept his offer and bring honor to our house."
"I do not know," Kenichi said. "I must think about this."
"Take your time, Kenichi," the Daimyo said. "Despite the bloodcurdling howls of the Immortals, there is no war nor any great conspiracy against the Shogun. These are days of peace."
OOC: Felt good to do this again. Expect more.
-L