The Way
Posted: Mon May 22, 2006 4:05 pm
The Great Library in Selgaunt. A place of knowledge and wisdom, where archives of forgotten lore were kept and protected from abusive eyes, a sanctuary of the mind. Pixies fluttered about, green powder falling freely from their diminutive and minute bodies. The gnome Librarian, Nefzen, sat on a chair by the entryway, engrossed in a musty old tome. There was almost no one else present in the library. It was usually this way. Of course, everyone has something better to do.
Kojiro clutched his quill tightly, his face contorted with strain and pressure. A bead of sweat fell smoothly down his dark face as he looked at the paper in front of him. He had decided to do this. It was a choice. Now his mind went blank. How many more pages to go, say, fifty? Forty? Ancestors bless him. His grip on the quill tightened, and in a moment the utensil snapped like burnt firewood. "Damn it!" he cursed softly to himself. He took a deep breath. No use getting angry over a quill. He looked at the candlelight flickering beside him as he recalled those days...
***
"Faster, Kojiro! Faster!" Jubei evaded the young samurai's blows with agility and great swiftness. Kojiro was tired that cold, wintry day, but training had to be practiced. He yelled again and began slashing away at his teacher. Downward, overhead, horizontal, diagonal, triangular...cuts of all angles, delivered with precision, still failed to hit the target. Kojiro's bated breath mixed with the cold air, but Jubei's lips were still closed, no sign of exhaustion in the old swordsman's face.
"Close your eyes, Kyoda. Feel your surroundings." Jubei turned his back on Kojiro and gazed up at the high trees of the Kozakura District. His hands were clasped behind his back, his armor stainless. Kojiro gazed at his master, focusing his energies. Muster it up...in your stomach. Let the power come from the hips. His grandfather had taught him such. He gripped his wooden sword firmly and closed his eyes as Jubei turned to face him again in a martial stance.
Then, in a moment, all things seem to have stopped. Kojiro opened his eyes and, without control, suddenly lunged. His sword went with the wind, and he felt nothing but the cold wind. Kojiro looked back up to see his master standing calmly, his eyes unreadable. "Well done," he said softly. A piece of black and red armor lay on the ground, a scale of the lacquered gear. "Trust in yourself always, Kojiro. Your eyes can deceive you, but your soul cannot. Use it as your torch." And with that, his mysterious but skilled mentor walked back in the direction of the Happy Wheel tavern.
The young nobleman rose to his feet and straightened himself. I hit him. How many men can hit Jubei-sama? Few! Pride began to show in the teenager's face. I had worked and trained hard for countless days. Taxes, loans, debts, records...I put them aside so I could succeed in the sword. Jubei-sama, my mysterious master, hit! A feat indeed.
He put his bokken inside his cloth belt and nodded slightly to himself. But a warrior should always be humble and never boast loudly of his accomplishments. Today, I have grown swifter, to have hit the dextrous master Jubei. I will train with him more until we are equal, for he is one to be looked up to. I will, one day, become a great warrior like him. His lessons must be written as well as my grandfather's. The world must have an opportunity to be interested, and to learn.
**
A smile formed on Kojiro's face as the scene faded from his memory, one of the many lessons shared to him. Despite all the recent troubles and problems of the Kozakuran community, one had to be enduring. Today, he was going to accomplish something for the good of the nation. His ancestors, his parents, and his grandmother above...they would all be proud. He would send a copy back to his clan, and distribute even more to the people of the camp. They would learn of the ways of the warrior, and understand why enlightenment is sought with the sword. This book is a samurai's key.
They would know the Way of the Sword.
Kojiro clutched his quill tightly, his face contorted with strain and pressure. A bead of sweat fell smoothly down his dark face as he looked at the paper in front of him. He had decided to do this. It was a choice. Now his mind went blank. How many more pages to go, say, fifty? Forty? Ancestors bless him. His grip on the quill tightened, and in a moment the utensil snapped like burnt firewood. "Damn it!" he cursed softly to himself. He took a deep breath. No use getting angry over a quill. He looked at the candlelight flickering beside him as he recalled those days...
***
"Faster, Kojiro! Faster!" Jubei evaded the young samurai's blows with agility and great swiftness. Kojiro was tired that cold, wintry day, but training had to be practiced. He yelled again and began slashing away at his teacher. Downward, overhead, horizontal, diagonal, triangular...cuts of all angles, delivered with precision, still failed to hit the target. Kojiro's bated breath mixed with the cold air, but Jubei's lips were still closed, no sign of exhaustion in the old swordsman's face.
"Close your eyes, Kyoda. Feel your surroundings." Jubei turned his back on Kojiro and gazed up at the high trees of the Kozakura District. His hands were clasped behind his back, his armor stainless. Kojiro gazed at his master, focusing his energies. Muster it up...in your stomach. Let the power come from the hips. His grandfather had taught him such. He gripped his wooden sword firmly and closed his eyes as Jubei turned to face him again in a martial stance.
Then, in a moment, all things seem to have stopped. Kojiro opened his eyes and, without control, suddenly lunged. His sword went with the wind, and he felt nothing but the cold wind. Kojiro looked back up to see his master standing calmly, his eyes unreadable. "Well done," he said softly. A piece of black and red armor lay on the ground, a scale of the lacquered gear. "Trust in yourself always, Kojiro. Your eyes can deceive you, but your soul cannot. Use it as your torch." And with that, his mysterious but skilled mentor walked back in the direction of the Happy Wheel tavern.
The young nobleman rose to his feet and straightened himself. I hit him. How many men can hit Jubei-sama? Few! Pride began to show in the teenager's face. I had worked and trained hard for countless days. Taxes, loans, debts, records...I put them aside so I could succeed in the sword. Jubei-sama, my mysterious master, hit! A feat indeed.
He put his bokken inside his cloth belt and nodded slightly to himself. But a warrior should always be humble and never boast loudly of his accomplishments. Today, I have grown swifter, to have hit the dextrous master Jubei. I will train with him more until we are equal, for he is one to be looked up to. I will, one day, become a great warrior like him. His lessons must be written as well as my grandfather's. The world must have an opportunity to be interested, and to learn.
**
A smile formed on Kojiro's face as the scene faded from his memory, one of the many lessons shared to him. Despite all the recent troubles and problems of the Kozakuran community, one had to be enduring. Today, he was going to accomplish something for the good of the nation. His ancestors, his parents, and his grandmother above...they would all be proud. He would send a copy back to his clan, and distribute even more to the people of the camp. They would learn of the ways of the warrior, and understand why enlightenment is sought with the sword. This book is a samurai's key.
They would know the Way of the Sword.
good story, always a joy to read!