Shoubu: Title Pending
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
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579
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Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
579
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter One:
Kei Shoubu stood alone in the meadow. His katana, free from its scabbard, whistled as he went through his morning rituals. Shoubu danced with death as he did every morning, a reminder of what he had lost and of what he should be giving up. The question plagued him as it did every morning, making the morning ritual more of a battle with an invisible foe than a simple practice.
He could almost hear the winds speaking to him as he danced.
”Why are you still alive?” it asked.
”Why do you not leave me be?” he asked responded.
”You have no honor, you should seppuku.”
”You have no success, you should leave me be.”
And on it went, as it did everyday since Shoubu had been dishonored. As it would go until he regained his honor.
A final swing brought the blade parallel with his body, reflecting the horizon behind him in it\'s blade. The site of the thunder heads in the distance quickly brought his practice to an end. He turned about, eyes skipping across the horizon, taking in the entire storm front. His mind raced for an explanation, to no avail.
\"The season is ill for storms like these,\" he thought.
\"But not for storms of magic.\"
Shoubu looked up from his thoughts. \"A storm of magic?\" he muttered aloud, \"The scripts speak of this.\"
Memory flooded him then, of classes he had only paid half attention to, always aching to be outdoors playing at samurai, of his teacher lecturing about the signs of the gods. Of how this world would end and the next would begin.
Shoubu sheathed his katana, the only remnant of his life, and set out on foot towards the distant thunder clouds.
He could almost hear the winds speaking to him as he danced.
”Why are you still alive?” it asked.
”Why do you not leave me be?” he asked responded.
”You have no honor, you should seppuku.”
”You have no success, you should leave me be.”
And on it went, as it did everyday since Shoubu had been dishonored. As it would go until he regained his honor.
A final swing brought the blade parallel with his body, reflecting the horizon behind him in it\'s blade. The site of the thunder heads in the distance quickly brought his practice to an end. He turned about, eyes skipping across the horizon, taking in the entire storm front. His mind raced for an explanation, to no avail.
\"The season is ill for storms like these,\" he thought.
\"But not for storms of magic.\"
Shoubu looked up from his thoughts. \"A storm of magic?\" he muttered aloud, \"The scripts speak of this.\"
Memory flooded him then, of classes he had only paid half attention to, always aching to be outdoors playing at samurai, of his teacher lecturing about the signs of the gods. Of how this world would end and the next would begin.
Shoubu sheathed his katana, the only remnant of his life, and set out on foot towards the distant thunder clouds.