by Bryce Allen
“I trained the entire royal family. Then, when the war began, I trained the empire’s armies.” Ebusu spoke with a short, dismissive tone, and his posture tensed a little.
Kenji opened his mouth to speak, but finding no words, closed it again. Kenji knew that Ebusu had trained the armies during the war; that was how he met Kenji’s father. But Kenji was unaware of Ebusu’s life before that.
“Master, I didn’t realize you—”
Ebusu cut him off with a lazy wave. “I have trained thousands, Kenji. I gave all of my effort to every single one. I teach you no differently than I taught Taishi.”
Silence fell over them and Kenji listened to their steady footsteps against the cobblestone. It brought Kenji comfort that he was trained in the same manner as an emperor. He cast a quick glance up at his master. The old man stared ahead, and his eyes were alive with memories. For a moment, Kenji realized how lucky he was to have fallen under such a man’s tutelage.
“My father was in Taishi’s honor guard?”
Ebusu’s shoulders relaxed and a hint of a smile curled on his lips.
“He was. Tadashi was one of the few chosen from Gawa to serve the emperor.”
Kenji’s mind raced from question to question, but none of them reached his lips. He imagined his father, or at least what he thought his father would look like, as a member of the royal guard. It was a prestigious position in the army. Kenji wondered what it would have been like to serve with him.
“I wish I had been in the war,” Kenji said under his breath.
Ebusu gripped Kenji’s shoulder and spun him around, “No, you don’t. War is death, nothing more, nothing less. Do you think the emperor took satisfaction in crushing the uprising? If you win the Zettai, you cannot ever look forward to war.”
Their eyes locked, and Kenji could see the frustration welling up in Ebusu’s eyes.
Ebusu was referring to Kaito. Every child was taught the stories of his treachery. He was a trusted member of the government in North Toku. He became displeased with the leadership in Tenno and started a rebellion.
Some people said Kaito wanted to be the emperor. Others said that North Toku just wanted independence from the empire. The story changed depending on who told it, but that didn’t matter to Kenji. Kaito started the war, and he caused all those lives to be lost.
In the early years of the rebellion, the emperor hesitated to fully engage the rebels. He tried to reason with Kaito, but Kaito capitalized on the weakness and only grew in popularity.
Kaito’s strength and influence grew. He started invading and claiming entire regions. At one point during the war his forces occupied half of the known lands in the empire.
After years of bloody conflict, the emperor defeated Kaito’s forces and restored peace. The men that were still alive returned home.
Even at the thought of Kaito’s name, Kenji’s anger spiked. He imagined the sneering traitor, ravaging villages and leading his bare-chested rebels across the empire. As Kenji’s grief at the loss of his father developed, he held a special place of hatred for Kaito. It was his fault, after all, that his father was gone.
Kenji blinked away his thoughts, realizing how childish he must have seemed.
“I’m sorry.”
Ebusu never spoke openly of the war, and Kenji never thought much about how truly terrible it must have been. As Kenji’s mind worked, he knew, in his very core, that he wouldn’t be able to comprehend how awful war was.
“You have only one thing to worry about, winning this tournament and claiming the Zettai. Then you can prevent anything like that from happening again.”
Ebusu gripped Kenji’s shoulder and flashed him a soft smile. After a deep breath, they continued the walk to their quarters. Tomorrow, the tournament began.
Kenji nodded and returned the smile, but his mind was still spinning. He didn’t speak again; he’d already pushed his luck. Now, he was left with silence and unanswered questions.
He’d known that Ebusu had a life before they met, but Kenji never thought much of it. He realized now how foolish he was to think he was one of Ebusu’s only personal students. The more he heard, the more he realized how little he knew.
Chapter 5
Kenji was exhausted, but he didn’t sleep. He didn’t even try. The sound of his own pounding heart was enough to keep him awake. The tossing and the turning became tiresome, and he eventually sat up on his bed, waiting for the sun.
Countless tournament scenarios ran through his head. In one, Kenji was the glorious victor, standing in the center of the ring with the Zettai at his hip.
In most of his daydreams, he was defeated. He tried not to dwell. He used every mental process Ebusu had taught him to clear his mind, but it didn’t work.
Dim, blue light seeped into the room through his single window. Shortly after that, the birds began singing. Kenji took it as a sign to start preparing for the day. He was thankful for something to do.
He slipped on his old training robe. Armor wasn’t allowed in the tournament. He didn’t mind; he wanted to be as comfortable as possible. It gave him a slim advantage over men that were used to armor. He would move naturally. No fancy cloaks or Gawan symbols.
His training robe was well worn. When Kenji first got it, it was rigid and black as night. Now, though, the charcoal-colored material flowed loosely around his body. Creases at his knees and elbows were starting to fray, but he did his best to repair it regularly.
His sash was a wide belt made from the same material. It wrapped tightly around his waist, holding his robe closed and his pants up. It created the perfect nest for his sword. The curved blade sat tightly against his hip, ready to be drawn without notice. It was loose enough to manipulate the direction of the sheath, but tight enough that it stayed in place with the help of two small ropes.
There was a certain gravity to his preparations that day. Every article of clothing he put on had a meaning or a memory behind it. He took his time, letting the ritual of it all sink in.
After all, today could be the day that he died.
A gentle knock at the door interrupted his morbid contemplations. He said to come in, and the door slid open, revealing Ebusu. He was carrying a tray with two cups and a pot of tea.
“Did you sleep?” he asked quietly.
Kenji shook his head.
“I didn’t think so,” Ebusu responded. “I made you this tea. Drink with me?”
“Of course, master.”
The pair knelt at a small table in the corner of Kenji’s room. Kenji reached out to pour the drink for his master, as it was the polite thing to do. However, Ebusu reached it before Kenji could.
“Master, I—”
Ebusu cut him off by raising a hand. He poured two cups of fragrant, steaming tea. The aroma was sweet and light, unlike the usual tea they had in Gawa. They both drank some, and the taste did not disappoint. The warmth spread over Kenji’s body, relaxing some of the tension stored in his body from the sleepless night.
“Your skill with a sword is far superior to mine, Kenji. If I didn’t think you would win, I wouldn’t have let you come.”
Kenji’s eyes widened, and he fought to control the rest of his face. Normally his master barely gave his approval to Kenji, let alone a compliment. Ebusu bested him in training every time they sparred. Kenji searched his master’s face for some hint of condescension, but Ebusu was not a liar.
“Master, you always beat me so easily,” Kenji said, looking down.
A wide grin spread across Ebusu’s face. The creases by his eyes deepened, but his eyes were as bright as ever. He leaned towards Kenji and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Let me tell you an old secret, from one swordsman to another. I will always beat you.”
Ebusu leaned back and let his grin grow into a smile. “I am your teacher, I know your strengths, I know your weaknesses. Your skill surpassed mine, but I have my ways.”
Kenji opened his mouth to protest, to question the logic, but Ebusu held up a hand and shook hi
s head.
“I’m proud of you, Kenji.”
Kenji felt a new warmth fill his center. It spread over his body and breathed new life into his weary mind. At that moment, Kenji knew how lucky he was to have a master like Ebusu. For the first time, Kenji thought he might know what it felt like to have a father.
The early morning streets were alive with activity. Merchants pulled carts down the street in a hurry, and foot traffic was everywhere. They all seemed to be headed in the same direction.
To get to the arena, the group from Gawa had to leave the walled part of the city. Sagura, Toshi, Ebusu, and Kenji made their way down the busy street together. Kenji noticed a few other regional delegations walking with their champions, as well.
Streets ran for as far as Kenji could see. Tenno was the largest city in the empire, sprawling out for miles. Once he thought he was on the busiest street, but it crossed with another wider, more-traveled road.
Kenji tried to absorb the excitement around him. Cheerful, boisterous voices called out, blurring into chaos. Some of them were trying to sell, others were trying to gamble. Kenji tried to catch a glimpse of the tournament odds, but he couldn’t see through the crowd.
All of the action and traffic around him helped him push the upcoming tournament from his thoughts, if only for a moment. They moved through the river of people following the road.
After his conversation with Ebusu Kenji felt more confident, but it didn’t prevent his stomach from churning with nerves. He wished that the crowds would clear before him so he could sprint the rest of the way. His hand rested on his sword, his mind craving the constant comfort it provided.
The rest of his entourage seemed calm. Toshi was indifferent. He carried himself with a smug annoyance, displaying his desire to be doing something else.
Sagura was calm and composed, but had a glimmer in his eye as he strode through the crowds. Kenji couldn’t put a finger on it, but something was invigorating him. Perhaps it was the bustling city around him or the excitement of the tournament.
Of course, Ebusu was a blank slate. That didn’t bother Kenji. He knew how his master felt, and that was enough.
The group turned a corner, and the arena appeared before them, as if conjured from nothingness. The architecture was as impressive as that of the palace, but there was a rugged quality to it. Wooden pillars supported massive arches that spread hundreds of feet in each direction. The wood was not smooth and decorated like on the palace, it was rough and worn from the weather.
From the outside, the arena appeared to be only one story tall, although it was as wide as several city blocks. Rice paper walls filled the gaps between some of the pillars, but most were open for spectators to walk through. Hundreds of people poured into the arena in a never-ending line.
Toshi led them away from the crowd to a small corner entrance. A few guards looked them over and then let them pass. They walked down a narrow, poorly lit tunnel. The path was disorienting. The tunnel split several times, leading to different areas underneath the arena. Kenji got the vague sense that he was going deeper into the ground.
A final pair of guards let them through a heavy door, and they stepped into a cavernous room.
Kenji didn’t notice his surroundings at first. He was amazed by the view. The only light was from the sun pouring in through an iron gate. Beyond the gate was the arena floor, a circular stone surface. It wasn’t raised like the stage was in Gawa; there would be no place to run.
The arena was surrounded by thousands of seats. To Kenji, they didn’t look like anything more than large stairs, but people filed in, filling every open spot. The only sign of nature was the blue sky and the sun above them. They were in a massive, man-made crater. Carved stone surrounded the walls of the arena floor, making the whole place feel like a giant cage.
“Best of luck, Kenji.” Sagura bowed to Kenji.
Kenji didn’t have time to say anything, but he matched the governor’s bow. Toshi nodded in Kenji’s general direction and left the way they came. Kenji didn’t bother returning the gesture. Toshi was already out of sight.
Kenji looked to Ebusu next. This time, he initiated the bow to his master.
“Empty mind, Kenji.”
When Kenji looked up from his bow, Ebusu was gone. He was left with his master’s words. For a moment, Kenji was alone in the staging area.
He heard a group of people enter behind him. The champions Matsu, Shiro, and Yutaka stepped through the door with their groups. Kenji scanned through the other regional groups. It was easy to tell people’s roles now that Kenji was familiar with them. He picked out the governor and the ambassador pretty easily. The ambassadors all carried themselves with the same arrogance.
The masters were far more interesting to Kenji. He saw hints of Ebusu in all of them. They moved with the same practiced grace, but they all looked different. He watched them all say their farewells, and he could see the final caring glance that each master gave their student before leaving the staging area.
None of the champions spoke to each other. They found a corner and waited. Kenji wanted to study them more out of sheer curiosity, but he did the same.
Soon after, Kami entered the staging area. Kenji felt his skin heat up. He looked over at her only to find her staring at him with a knowing grin. He looked away as fast as he could, but they both knew that they locked eyes.
Kenji was confused, though. There were only three people in her party. If Kenji was correct, the one missing was her master.
Kenji pushed the thoughts from his mind and shook his head. It didn’t matter. He needed to focus. He closed his eyes and lowered his head.
“Champion,” Kami greeted him, with a sweeping gesture and a smile.
Kenji was ripped from his budding concentration. He scanned the room, checking if any of the other champions were chatting. They were all still in their corners pretending not to notice each other.
“If you’ve come here to mock me, I have other things to focus on.”
“Mock you? I just wanted to speak with you. I don’t understand why everyone is so serious.”
Kami flashed a frustratingly vague grin at Kenji. She carefully tucked a few rogue hairs behind her ear and waited for Kenji’s response. Kenji could practically hear Ebusu screaming in his head to ignore her.
“Where is your master?” Kenji asked.
“I don’t have one. I’m self-taught.”
“Really?”
Kami’s eyes danced with amusement, but she forced an expression of offense.
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
Kenji shook his head and let his mouth fall open. The thought of this girl training herself and entering the Tenno Tournament was boggling. It had to be a mistake.
“Swordsmanship is a complex, life-long process that—”
“Swordsmanship might be, but swordswomanship is much simpler: Put the sharp side of your blade through the enemy before they do the same to you. Once you simplify it, it becomes much easier.”
Her eyes fluttered and she flashed another smile. The curl of her lips sent chills down his spine and warmed him at the same time. Kenji didn’t know if it was her beauty or his discomfort that caused the sensation, but it made him shuffle his feet for distraction.
In a wave of realization, Kenji considered how many times she must have had this exact same conversation. All he could do was sigh.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Kenji snorted.
“Calm down. I didn’t come here to offend you,” Kami said, stifling a giggle.
Kenji turned to get a better look at Kami. He didn’t know what to think of her. She seemed genuine, but his gut warned him not to trust anyone. It was likely that they would have to face each other in the arena, but Kenji couldn’t help but be drawn to her light-hearted attitude.
Kenji’s posture relaxed, and he allowed himself to grin back at the girl. He had to admit, she was a welcome distraction when compared with the anxiety Kenji faced.
Thei
r conversation was cut off when the door whipped open behind them. Hiroshi stepped in, alone with his sword. His expensive, brightly colored robes stood out amongst the champions. The robes weren’t garish or extreme like Sagura’s tended to be, but the craftsmanship was evident in the perfect stitches and consistent colors.
Everyone except Hiroshi was wearing their most familiar training robe.
“No need to stare, champions,” Hiroshi announced to the room.
There was an aggression to his voice that Kenji wouldn’t have suspected based on his formal behavior at the banquet. He carried himself with the same smugness that Toshi did.
“You shouldn’t be here, Hiroshi.”
The rumbling voice came from the gigantic champion in the corner, Matsu. He stood up, towering over all the other champions, including Hiroshi. His massive width and bulging muscles filled his corner of the room. He glared at the emperor’s brother, his eyes narrow and focused.
“Matsu? The Tenno Tournament is open to all citizens of the empire, not just the peasants. No one, not even the emperor, can change the rules to this tournament. So here I am.”
Hiroshi faced Matsu, unfazed by his bulky frame.
“The Tenno Tournament is sacred, not some form of cheap royal entertainment. What would you even do with the Zettai? Hang it on the wall?”
Hiroshi laughed, “I don’t have to be a brute to yearn for the power that the Zettai will give me. I saw the things Jin could do with it firsthand.”
“It isn’t about power, it is about service to the empire!” Matsu took a massive step towards Hiroshi. The room tensed. They were within striking distance.
“Easy!” Shiro shouted, stepping between Hiroshi and Matsu. “Hiroshi fought at the battle for Tenno, and he fought his way here. He earned his place. Fight well enough and you can settle this out there.”
Neither of them moved for a few moments. Flames burned in Matsu’s eyes as he stared at Hiroshi. Finally, he grunted his disapproval and backed away to his corner.
“Why is he here?” Kami whispered.
Kenji ignored her, looking out at the seats of the arena. Every empty space was filled with a moving body. It made the Gawa tournament look like a small gathering of friends. The sea of people was a featureless blur of hands and faces.
