by Ryan Kirk
Ryuu, unable to decipher the Shigeru’s meaning, nodded his head enthusiastically, hoping that it would pass as comprehension. It had often worked with his parents. Shigeru gave him a knowing smile and let the subject drop. Though he didn’t understand, Ryuu would repeat the words to himself over and over, committing them to memory. He was certain that there was wisdom in his words and wanted to be able to understand them one day.
The days cycled in a routine that Ryuu soon relaxed into. They would walk all day, keeping the same pace, stopping only when the sun began to set. They avoided all towns and ate on the move. When the sun began to dip, Shigeru would motion them to a halt. If they were near some trees or brush they would start a small fire. Otherwise they would simply settle down, eat some food, and be asleep by the time the sun went below the horizon.
The days passed in silence, which Ryuu found himself comfortable with. He believed Shigeru did not like to talk, and that was fine. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. The scenes replayed themselves over and over in his head, and his fear of the visions mounted. But then he would glance at Shigeru and the fear would be replaced by anger. Anger at himself. He should have done more to protect his parents, especially his mother. He visualized himself picking up a sword and slaying the bandits by himself. But every time he did, he remembered what had happened to the merchant’s son. He had seen firsthand what became of boys who thought they were warriors. He believed the merchant’s boy had died an honorable death and was now relaxing with his parents in the afterlife. Ryuu wondered at times if it would be better if he was dead as well.
After three more days of walking his thoughts turned again, replaced by comforting thoughts of Shigeru and the future. He realized that he was learning a lot from Shigeru just by walking with him. Often they would stop so Shigeru could point to something interesting about the world they were passing through. It was the beginning of Ryuu’s education under Shigeru, but it was also the beginning of his healing. He was learning there was more in the world than death.
Shigeru would point to a flower that if chewed would bring quick relief from minor pains. He could tell where animals were before Ryuu could see them, and the two of them delighted in sneaking up on unsuspecting deer. They weren’t successful at it when they started. Ryuu couldn’t move without sound like Shigeru could, but by the time they reached Shigeru’s hut, Ryuu could make it within twenty paces before the deer would startle. It was some of the most fun he could ever remember having. He loved moving silently, but even though he could sneak up on a deer, he could never get close to Shigeru.
Ryuu realized that Shigeru knew about an entire world he had never known about. It was more than just plants and animals. Shigeru knew the cycles of the stars, and at night he would tell stories about the constellations. Ryuu had heard some stories from his father, but Shigeru’s stories were different. They were stories of loss and heroic deeds and hope that transcended life. Even the constellations he pointed out were different. When Ryuu asked why he hadn’t heard any of Shigeru’s stories, Shigeru replied that his were old stories not told in the Three Kingdoms anymore.
When Shigeru spoke like that, Ryuu wondered where they were going. Shigeru often spoke of the Three Kingdoms as something less than the whole. Ryuu had never heard about anyplace besides the Three Kingdoms, and his mind would flash back to the fruit Shigeru carried. Were they leaving the Three Kingdoms?
As they traveled, the land began to change. Ryuu had grown up farming and knew the land around the farm. The trip to New Haven had been the farthest he had been from home, but the land was much the same, rolling plains that stretched on as far as the eye could see. His young mind imagined all the Southern Kingdom the same, but he found out he was wrong. The plains gave way to dotted woods until they were traveling among young cottonwoods and elms. Ryuu had never seen a forest before, but he felt comfortable in the confined spaces and the trees which muffled the sounds of their footsteps.
Food was never an issue. Almost every day Shigeru would motion them to a halt and pull out a throwing blade. Ryuu noticed that every time he drew a throwing blade, he would dip it in a small hide that was tied into one of the myriad knots of his belt. Ryuu didn’t know what was in the bag, but he knew every time Shigeru hit his target, which was every time he threw, the animal stopped moving. He also discovered when he tried to touch the blades that Shigeru wouldn’t let him near the blades until he had wiped them clean.
It was during a hunt that Ryuu began to get a clearer idea of the man he was traveling with. Although Shigeru would motion for Ryuu to stop he would keep moving forward, and Ryuu, despite his best efforts, couldn’t even hear a whisper in the grass as he moved. It was rare that Ryuu even saw what Shigeru was throwing at. His hand would snap forward, always surprising Ryuu, and wherever the knife landed they would inevitably find small game, a hare or squirrel. Ryuu realized he was with someone who wasn’t even supposed to exist in the Three Kingdoms anymore.
It was the hunting that pushed Ryuu’s curiosity past the breaking point, and he began asking questions as he had of his parents. He wanted to know how Shigeru found the prey, how he moved without a sound, and how he threw so well. Although they never stopped walking, Shigeru would often take the time to explain, at least in basic terms, what he was able to do. Shigeru talked about the sense and what it was, how it worked. Ryuu didn’t understand what Shigeru was saying, but he listened to every word, doing his best to memorize everything. He didn’t understand it today, but he figured it might save his life tomorrow.
Their journey continued, taking them from the new woods Ryuu had fallen in love with to older woods. Where the young woods maintained an atmosphere of welcoming embrace, Ryuu felt claustrophobic among the old trees. Their branches extended impossibly high into the sky, blocking out light and sound. The creatures made noises Ryuu did not recognize, and every shadow held danger. Again, Ryuu wondered where their final destination would be.
It came without warning or fanfare at a small hut. The building was small and had been built not too long ago. Ryuu had some small practice taking care of their farm and recognized that the hut was well built. The wood had been joined together well and there weren’t seams that would allow rain or snow to get in. The thatching was well done. It was apparent that great care had been taken in the construction of the building.
Even after living in the open plains, the hut was more secluded than any place Ryuu had ever been. He had known little but the farm and was used to empty space, but this was different. Once they had entered the old woods all traces of humanity disappeared. It was more than not seeing a town or house. They hadn’t even seen footpaths that denoted human travel. Ryuu, his curiosity overflowing, hounded Shigeru. Even at five, Ryuu could tell that it was excellent land and that there should be people everywhere.
Shigeru grinned at Ryuu’s curiosity. Ryuu noticed that his attitude was more relaxed now. “Most people avoid the old woods. Throughout the Three Kingdoms there are stories told to scare people from going in. People still fear them. These trees have seen more of our lives than we can imagine. These were old woods before your grandfather’s grandfather was even born. They are full of darkness and shadows, and people believe that these woods are haunted. They fear what they don’t understand.”
As Shigeru explained, Ryuu glanced around and believed he could feel a chill in the air. He chided himself for letting his imagination get the better of him, but the shadows cast by the trees still seemed threatening. The question had to be asked. “Don’t you believe in the ghosts?”
Shigeru laughed, the first time Ryuu had heard him do so. The sound startled him in his already nervous state. “I’m not sure. I’m open to the possibility. I’ve never encountered anything that would provide proof of ghosts. The old woods have their dangers, but ghosts aren’t one of them. That being said, I do sometimes help the nearby villages, and they believe in the superstitions. My privacy k
eeps me safe.”
“No one knows you’re here?”
“No. I only go to the villages occasionally, but I always go to different villages, only returning to one after many moons have passed. They believe I’m a traveling doctor. I sell some mixtures that I make here, heal when I can. It’s nothing special, but my techniques are effective and some are beyond what is practiced here in the Three Kingdoms. It provides me some money when I have need of it.”
Shigeru brought Ryuu into the hut. He wasn’t surprised that it was bare. A small collection of cooking necessities was stacked near a wall, but otherwise the space was empty save for a mat on the floor. Ryuu looked around and was bored in a moment. He had hoped for more weapons.
The next few days were uneventful. The hut and the surrounding forest was a young boy’s perfect playground, and Ryuu took full advantage of the space. He explored the woods as far as he dared and was delighted to find a small waterfall only a short walk through the forest from the cottage. Shigeru told him not to wander beyond the distance of the waterfall and let him know that the evening meal would be just after dusk each evening. Beyond that he gave no further rules and allowed Ryuu to do as he pleased. He let Ryuu have the mat and slept sitting up against the wall of the hut, his sword held in front of him.
The lack of interaction suited Ryuu perfectly. He had always been fascinated by the world around him and the new environment provided countless days of exploration and wonder. He hated chores at home not because he hated work, but because they took away his freedom to explore. Here he spent his days as he wished, digging under rocks and studying plants and animals he had never seen before. When that became boring he allowed his imagination to take the best of him, and he was Shigeru, slaying groups of bandits and making them serve him at his leisure. Innumerable trees felt the sting of a sword shaped branch against their trunks as Ryuu reenacted battle after battle.
Shigeru stayed near the hut, working in the garden and going through his movements every morning. Sometimes he would leave for a short time, but Ryuu didn’t ask why. Despite his growing familiarity with Shigeru he still wasn’t comfortable. Shigeru was so strong and quiet it was hard not to be a little intimidated even if Ryuu knew it was foolish. He accepted that Shigeru was some sort of nomadic wanderer, and he always reappeared in the evenings in time for the meal, which was all that mattered to Ryuu.
When the sun set Ryuu struggled to maintain the illusion of control he felt during the day. Evenings reminded Ryuu of his family. Night had been the time when his family came together for their meal and to share the events of the day. It hadn’t always been fun, but it had always been family, and Ryuu didn’t realize what that meant until he didn’t have one anymore.
During the day he convinced himself that he was fine and he just had a couple of days off from chores to run around and be a child. He kept so active that it was easy to do. Being busy and throwing himself into a new environment kept his mind off of what had happened. But at night there was little to do except speak with Shigeru. And while Shigeru was certainly polite and the most interesting man Ryuu had ever met, he wasn’t mother and father. It was at night that Ryuu remembered the images burned into his memory: the death and corpses of his mother and father, the last stand of the merchant’s son. He kept seeing his father turn around with his last breath, trying to warn his loved ones, but it was too late.
It was at night he would cry. It would start as a single tear, but he knew from experience that once the first tear fell, he would lose all control. His sobs wracked his body, but he didn’t dare make a sound. He didn’t want Shigeru to know this weakness. He knew Shigeru was a man who had withstood everything that had been against him in life. And although Ryuu had only been with Shigeru for about a moon, he knew that Shigeru had never cried.
The days began to pass in a manner that could almost be called routine, if life after trauma can ever be considered routine. Ryuu spent the days outside wandering in the wilderness or helping Shigeru tend the gardens. As he settled into the familiar pattern he started to help out with more of the chores. Not because Shigeru asked, but because it was the right thing for him to do. Shigeru had taken him in and saved his life. The nights, despite the heat of the fire in the hut, were cold and lonely, and Ryuu felt every minute of them, tears falling down his cheeks in silence.
While Ryuu passed the days in relative peace, Shigeru was busy. His life for almost ten cycles had been structured. He raised enough food for one. He wasn’t worried about more food, but it did require more work. It was another mouth to feed and another body to clothe. The garden which he maintained was larger than he needed, but could not support two through the cycle. It would have to be enlarged. Clothes would not be an issue. He had more money than he would ever be able to spend from selling medicine in surrounding communities.
Shigeru also had to gather more information. The journey had taken him much longer than he had expected. Of course, he hadn’t expected to come back with a child in tow. He needed to make a circuit of the surrounding villages, both to ensure the safety of his hut and to gather the latest news in the Southern Kingdom. He stayed alive by staying silent and aware of everything happening around him.
Spring was dawning on the land, which meant war. The Three Kingdoms remained at relative peace although there continued to be talk of unusual troop movements. The lord of the Southern Kingdom, Lord Azuma, was well known as a cunning leader. He ruled by strength, and although there was often talk against him, the kingdom was peaceful and prosperous. Yes, those who spoke too loudly against the lord had a tendency to disappear, but the kingdom was stable. It was that very stability that brought Shigeru to the Southern Kingdom in the first place.
Last fall, Lord Azuma hadn’t allowed his men to return from their annual campaign in the Three Sisters. Talk in the village closest to Shigeru was that Azuma had moved the deployment schedule. Typically troops returned from the Sisters in the fall, allowing families to be together and the harvest to get finished. Shigeru noted that having the young men back in the fall always seemed to produce a strong batch of offspring the following summer. Shigeru doubted that was an accident. Rumors were that the troops would now be coming home in the spring, but Shigeru didn’t believe that. Azuma was massing for a campaign.
Last fall there had been nothing to do but wait and see. Odd troop movements by themselves didn’t concern Shigeru. However, if Azuma was plotting a major action in the Three Sisters, Shigeru would consider leaving the Southern Kingdom. Stability was part of his cloak. If there was a chance of the kingdom falling into outright warfare, he would need to leave. Caution was the better part of valor.
Despite Shigeru’s need for information, the actions of a lord hundreds of leagues away did not concern him as much as Ryuu did. Taking him in had been an impulsive move, the sudden and unexpected culmination of his journey. The boy was different. He possessed the gift of the sense. That much was obvious in the first few moments Shigeru had laid eyes on him. But the boy didn’t know it. He watched the boy from a distance as he played in the woods. He observed the boy’s reenactment of battles, slaying all the trees surrounding the hut in the process. He assessed the boy’s intelligence through conversations at meals and while in the garden. Ryuu had an impressive thirst for knowledge, a trait Shigeru assumed had been cultivated by his parents. Shigeru appreciated the constant stream of questions even though he wasn’t ready to answer many of them yet. He had much still to decide.
It was the evenings that were most difficult. Shigeru sensed the boy at night while he cried. It was almost impossible for him not to. The boy was quiet, and even Shigeru’s practiced ear could barely catch the sound of the boy sobbing night after night. But his sense was almost overwhelmed by the boy’s power. The boy had the gift, but it manifested in the old way, a way Shigeru hadn’t seen since coming to the mainland. Most with the gift shone like bright candles, burning the space around them with their abilities until they learned the rudimentary levels of control taught in t
he monasteries. Any individual attuned to the sense could feel them coming from leagues away.
The boy was an anomaly, at least here. Shigeru could feel the overwhelming strength of the boy’s sense, but instead of a burning ball of energy, it was as if he was extending whip-like tentacles of energy around his body. They were faint but at the same time stronger than any lines of sense Shigeru had felt in many cycles. The boy was gathering in more information than he could imagine, he just had to open his mind to it. Shigeru knew the boy was five cycles old. He should have been tested by the monks by now. At first it was difficult to believe that Ryuu had not been taken by the monks, but Shigeru wondered if the very nature of Ryuu’s sense hid him from a monk’s rudimentary tests. What Shigeru would have given to meet Ryuu’s father and mother.
Regardless, Shigeru was faced with the most significant decision since he escaped the island. The boy had no family, immediate or extended, that he could be returned to. Shigeru knew people that would welcome the boy into their arms. He could grow up to live a more normal life. But Shigeru sensed something greater unfolding before him. Shigeru wasn’t a big believer in fate, but it could not be a coincidence that when he left on his journey this boy was at the end of his path. Fate seemed to be twisted around this boy, leaving little doubt in Shigeru’s mind that this was meant to be.
The decision would impact him beyond just training the boy. It would mean stepping out of the shadows someday. He had avoided the Blades for so many cycles by disappearing. He did not hunt for bandits or display his skill in the courts. Every part of his life was structured around the practice of not arousing attention. Adding a second life to that mix complicated matters and left the door open for circumstances beyond his control. Taking on a student who could carry on his legacy could be the very act that killed them both. That fear prevented him from acting decisively. Instead, he continued to watch from afar, giving Ryuu as little direction as possible. If he believed in anything, Shigeru believed in the power of choice.