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The night was ghastly, dark, eerie, even. Off in the distance there was the echo of swords clashing and yelps of pain as strikes were hit against their foes. The year was 1556. Go-Nara-tennÅ was the reigning emperor, and the village was under attack. Fire rose from all corners, huts were burned down to the ground. Death was looming in the air, the stench of corpses filling the noses of all who remained.
Satoshi, a young man from the South, squatted on the ledge that loomed over the burning village. His sword clung to his side, as was his sworn oath to never let it go. A gentle breeze swept aside his long hair, his eyes focused on the ground below. He stood up, slowly, and turned around. He stared ahead at the looming storm, coming in to wash away the smell of death and fire. He walked ahead and jumped to the nearest low rock, making his way slowly down into the village. It wasn't until he had reached the lowest rock that there was an explosion on top of the ledge, just where he was before. Shrugging to himself, he walked on into the village. Most of the people had safely evacuated, and any who had remained were fighting.
He lifted a hand to examine one of the huts that had not fallen. The wood was burnt, but yet still sturdy. He peered inside, checking to see if there was anyone within. There were none, of course, but Satoshi felt as though he had to check, anyway. He turned around, and nearly jumped. Standing in front of him was a large, cloaked figure. He looked at the figure, searching for any sort of weapon or threat.
"You will find none," it screeched. Satoshi looked up at what he hoped would be the face, slightly bemused.
"Any righteous warrior would carry a weapon on himself," he declared. "I suppose you are not righteous?" He straightened to his fullest height, determined to seem overpowering to the figure. The figure did not speak, but it merely extended what would be a hand, and motioned for Satoshi to follow him. Satoshi followed, over the remains of dead bodies and through tunnels made out of fallen structures. He examined the cloaked figure, for it appeared to be gliding over the ground, something Satoshi had never witnessed before. There were no feet, no hands, no sort of human structure to this figure that Satoshi could see, yet he remained to follow. The sky seemed to become darker and darker, Satoshi no longer sure if there was still a battle or fire. He could not hear the fighters, nor could he smell the fight, yet he still felt as though he were on the encampment.
It was not before long when the cloaked figure finally stopped and turned around, startling Satoshi ever so slightly, although he appeared fathomless. It raised its arm-like limb and pointed to Satoshi's left, gesturing that he continue off alone. Satoshi bowed slightly and moved off in the given direction. His surroundings grew darker, and eventually he came to the point where he had to stop and turn around, in an attempt to see his surroundings. There was nothing but darkness, so eerily silent. There was a crack behind him, causing Satoshi to whip around. Bending his knees a little and posing for a strike, Satoshi laid his hand on the handle of his blade.
"W-Who's there?" he called, unsure of himself anymore. There was a shing of metal against metal, as though another sword was being unsheathed. Satoshi unsheathed his own in response, holding it steady in front of him, although he could not see any glint of his own sword, nevermind the other that lie ahead. The suspense was horrible, for it was tearing Satoshi up inside.
Instantly it felt as though a thousand needles had pierced his skull. Instinctively, he reached up a hand to check for blood, but there was none, as well as no needles or points of impact.
"What you feel is not physical, but emotional, young Satoshi," growled a deep voice from ahead. There was a blinding white flash, forcing Satoshi to shield his eyes. Once his eyes reopened, he was back at the battlefield, all of the burning buildings vanquished, and the dead laid everywhere. There was no life to be seen. He looked up, and overhead was the dark storm that Satoshi had forecasted to come hours after he had originally seen it. This sent a shiver down his spine, causing a visible shudder. He examined the landscape around him, searching for the source of the voice from before. Not finding anything, he sheathed his sword. When his sword was nearly sheathed all the way, Satoshi found a blade pressed against his throat. "Do not sheath your sword, Satoshi. Pull it back out, and let us face one another." Doing as he was told, Satoshi pulled out his sword once more, slowly turning around to face the holder of the other one.
The man facing him was about his height, and around Satoshi's own build. The man's hair was tied up, unlike his own. Upon his face he wore a mask, shielding his identity. "Brace yourself, young one," he voice growled. Satoshi's eyes widened as he realized how strangely familiar the voice was.
"F-Father? Is that you?" Satoshi asked, his voice quivering. At once the man charged, his sword flashing before striking Satoshi's own.
"Why have you returned home? To see our village fall to pieces? Is that it?" the voice sounded angry, bitter, and torn. The swords clashed again and again, each movement fluid and graceful, and equally powerful.
Finally Satoshi halted and straightened, sheathing his sword. "I do not wish to continue our fight, Father," he stated, his expression solemn. The man in front of him turned away and took off his mask, dropping his own sword. He turned slightly to face him, his scarred face bloody and tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Everyone is gone, my son. Move on. Let this old man die in his home, where so many that he loved have perished. Move on, my son," his gaze dropped. Satoshi reached out to comfort his father, but quickly dropped his arm, remembering what his father had said about such actions. Satoshi turned away, trying not to look back at his beaten father.
"Good luck in the afterlife, Father," he said, walking away. Behind him a building collapsed, and there was a crunch as flames started up again. Satoshi knew that his father was gone, and he had started a new life. It was time to do the same.
 Thee Alchemyst · Wed Jun 24, 2009 @ 02:25am · 0 Comments |
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