Chosen by the Blade

by Bryce Allen

  Kenji ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than he usually kept it. The last time Ebusu cut it was before they left Gawa. A thin layer of grease made his short, dark hair point in every direction.

  Kenji nodded to himself. His appearance suited him. This was the fate that he deserved. Weaponless and filthy, Kenji continued down the road. He wasn’t afraid of being recognized anymore.

  After that his thoughts slowed. His pain faded to numbness and his face went slack. His posture broke slightly and his shoulders rolled forward as he walked. He didn’t have the energy to do anything more than exist.

  Chapter 12

  Going around his home village was easy enough. He knew the perfect hills to traverse to go unnoticed. They were just as much a home for him as the buildings below. When he hadn’t been training with Ebusu or tending to his mother, he had been in those hills.

  He only allowed himself one glance down on his former home. Night had fallen already, but the village still had some activity. Children ran about, squeezing the last bit of fun they could out of the day. A few old men gathered around a fire, drinking and telling stories.

  His village didn’t change.

  He strained his eyes against the fading light to find his home. It was the same as the other huts, but it stood out to Kenji. Through an open window, his mother rocked back and forth in her chair. She would do that for several more hours before falling asleep.

  His heart mourned for the woman, but there was nothing he could do. She did the same thing every night regardless of his presence. He wondered if she would even recognize him.

  He pulled his eyes away from his home. He couldn’t return to it. He turned his attention to the forest. It was cold and dark compared to the warmth of the village, but it was equally as familiar.

  He set off up the side of the hill, away from comfort and the people he used to know. The soft glow of the village faded quickly until there was no trace of the life behind him. He thought it would be harder. He’d prepared for the urge to be among others, but all he wanted now was solitude.

  In the shroud of night, the forest was a special place, a solemn place. Hisses and howls stirred around him as he traversed the woods. He saw nothing but the narrow, moonlit path leading him through the woods.

  He had heard stories of the animals that lurked in the forest surrounding their village. Vicious predators roamed, ready to snatch a wandering child at a moment’s notice.

  But he wasn’t afraid. Kenji felt nothing more than guilt. The sharp jaws of a wolf would be a relief. A quick death would take away the burden. However, the animals of the forest let him be.

  Perhaps too much pain spoiled the meat.

  Just as it always had, the clearing opened up around him, as if materializing before his eyes. It looked just as it had when he met Ebusu there to train in the dawn’s dim light.

  One thing was different, though. Ebusu was not there waiting for him. It was as vacant as Kenji’s expression. The platform seemed small and broken without Ebusu waiting on it. Kenji allowed himself to stare. After a few moments, he turned to the woodline. He searched, trying to find the entrance to the path Ebusu took to reach the waterfall.

  It was difficult in the darkness, but he found it. Ebusu has been moving quickly when they ran there, but Kenji was patient. At points, he thought he’d fallen off the path altogether. He didn’t stop, though.

  Eventually, the sound of the waterfall was all the direction he needed. Branches reached out and tore at his skin, but he pushed through them. The rush of the water grew louder, and Kenji broke into a clumsy jog.

  He fell twice, but each time he scrambled to his feet. He didn’t know why he was running, but he needed to reach the waterfall. It called out to him with its roar.

  Finally, Kenji pushed through the brush and fell forward onto a cold, stone slab. The waterfall’s crashing water blocked out all sound and a misty breeze swirled around him. He had made it.

  Kenji rolled into a seated position and caught his breath. Something about the noise around him comforted him. It masked his constant feelings of loss.

  His eyes started to feel heavy. Without any thought, he slowly leaned to the side and rested his head on the stone. He pulled his tattered cloak around his body and closed his eyes.

  He could feel the gentle rumble of the water crashing below him, and the constant roar of the falls lulled him to sleep.

  Kenji had eaten raw fish before. Perfectly cut strips of fish meat were a staple in Gawa. But as he held the flailing fish with both hands, he wasn’t sure if he could do it.

  A little downstream of the falls, the water pooled before eventually flowing to the sea. Hunger lead Kenji to try his luck at fishing; he was desperate for food. Luckily, he found that the fish that made it down the falls were dazed. With the right timing, they were easily caught.

  Four days had passed since Kenji arrived at the waterfall. He’d eaten a variety of plants that he knew were safe, but they never sated his hunger. Now that he had a squirming fish in his hands, he wished he could create a fire. It rained hard the night before, and he was barely able to make smoke with the wet wood.

  The afternoon sun was hot on Kenji’s back, and the air heavy with moisture. He’d sacrificed his cloak to make a proper hammock, but Kenji was still sweating from the heat. He cooled himself in the waist-deep water and waded to shore.

  The fish fought a few more times, but Kenji smashed its head against a rock and it fell limp. He sat on the rocky shore and studied it. It was a big fish. He was impressed he had even caught it. If properly prepared, it would be delicious.

  He hesitated for another moment, then bit down on his catch. It didn’t taste like anything, but the texture almost made Kenji gag. The scales were coated in a thin layer of slime. It clung to his teeth as he chewed through the flesh.

  He took a few more bites and discarded the rest. The thin bones proved too difficult to eat around. He got enough to sate some of his hunger, and his stomach only churned a few times.

  Kenji carefully climbed back up to the top of the waterfall. It was a treacherous path. Every stone was covered in the fine spray that the waterfall produced. It would be easy to slip. On one side, the waterfall crashed down, and on the other was the face of the cliff.

  As Kenji crawled towards his meager camp, a morbid curiosity consumed him. How easy would it be to just let himself slip? It would be a simple death. Since arriving at the waterfall, Kenji thought a lot about death: Ebusu’s death, Taishi’s death, and his own death.

  Kenji imagined the fall and shuddered. From this height, death wouldn’t be certain. He could end up at the bottom, twisted and bleeding, left to suffer and die over hours or days.

  He shrugged to himself and looked down at the rocks.

  “That wouldn’t be so bad,” he whispered.

  Kenji finished the climb and reached the plateau. He shuffled to the edge the stone and looked down. It was a straight shot to the bottom of the falls. If Kenji fell, he would plummet with the water and crash onto the rocks below.

  That would be a swift and certain death.

  The same idea came to him every day. Like a rolling wave, it built power over time. Each day brought him closer to the edge, to death.

  Kenji leaned forward, testing himself. He’d never thought about suicide, at least not before the Tenno Tournament. It would mean the end of all this. He would join his father, Ebusu, and Taishi in the afterlife.

  “If you’re going to do it, do it.”

  The sudden shout made Kenji jump away from the edge. Behind him, Sagura stood at the edge of the forest. His arms were folded. His bald head was inclined towards Kenji, watching him with interest.

  “How did you find me?” Kenji shouted over the falls.

  “A blind idiot could have tracked you here,” Sagura retorted. “You must’ve broken every branch you passed, leaving bits of your cloak on each one.”

  Kenji was thrown off by the harsh tone in Sagura’s voice, and he was still proc
essing his sudden appearance.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Never mind that, I believe you were in the middle of something. By all means, please continue.”

  There was a sarcastic edge to Sagura’s tone. To Kenji, it was a challenge. He took a step closer to the edge, his eyes locked onto Sagura’s. The governor was unimpressed by the gesture.

  “I’ll do it,” Kenji said, cold wind whipping around his body.

  “I know you will,” Sagura said.

  Kenji took a final step toward the falls and turned away from Sagura. If he wanted to watch Kenji do it, so be it. None of it mattered. He had failed his master, and he had failed the empire. Kenji closed his eyes.

  “I was with your father when you were born,” Sagura said. “We were training for the militia when he heard that your mother was in labor. I didn’t know Tadashi personally, but everyone knew his name after the day you were born.”

  Kenji’s whole body froze and his breath came faster. His skin felt hot, even against the cold mist from the falls. He faced Sagura.

  “Don’t,” Kenji warned.

  Sagura chuckled and looked into the sky, remembering the day. He ignored Kenji’s request.

  “Ebusu almost didn’t let him leave training, but your father insisted. He wasn’t gone long, either. A few hours later Tadashi came running back to the training grounds with a tiny bundle of blankets held tight to his chest.”

  Kenji moved closer to Sagura, desperate to hear every word.

  “I’d never seen a man so happy, so proud. He interrupted the whole training of a hundred soldiers just to show you to Ebusu. Ebusu pretended to be angry, but sure enough, Tadashi shoved you in the old swordsman’s arms.”

  Sagura laughed and ran a hand over his bald head. “Even Ebusu had to smile as he held you. They sat there rocking you and making faces at you until you started screaming for your mother. Tadashi scooped you back up, pressed you tight to his chest and ran back.”

  Sagura continued, “In the next few months I rarely saw your father without a smile on his face. He talked about nothing but you and your mother.”

  Sagura opened his mouth to speak, but Kenji cut him off.

  “Then he went to war and he died.”

  Now that Kenji had a moment to study the governor, he saw the tension in Sagura’s posture. He saw the agitation in his eyes. Sagura was ready to lunge, to bring Kenji to the ground and save his life.

  “Yes, he died, but he died doing what he had to do. No more, no less,” Sagura answered. There was a hint of desperation in his tone, a plea.

  Kenji doubted that Sagura could reach him in time if he jumped, but the governor was likely to hurt or kill himself in the process. Kenji didn’t need another death on his hands.

  Kenji shook his head. They were at an impasse. No motivational story could bring the old Kenji back. Kenji could see that Sagura wasn’t done, so he shuffled to his makeshift bed and sat down. He could complete his final act when Sagura left.

  “What do you want, Sagura?” Kenji asked, defeated.

  “I want you to come back to Tenno with me,” Sagura said, “but I will settle for something else.”

  “And what is that?” Kenji asked.

  Sagura paused, slowly nodding his bald head to himself.

  “You need to see your mother.” Sagura spoke so quietly, Kenji almost didn’t hear him.

  “Then, I will let you come back here and do whatever you need to do.”

  Kenji studied the governor. Sagura avoided eye contact, as if ashamed. The way he said the words, Kenji knew he was genuine. Still, it was a bold request.

  “She probably doesn’t even realize I’m gone.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You are her son.”

  Kenji studied the slab of stone beneath his feet. It was still early in the morning, but the sun already warmed it. Kenji imagined his mother, wandering around the hut, aimless and blank faced. That is what she did most days, all day. Then, as the sun set, she sat on her bed and rocked until she fell asleep.

  Kenji remembered when she was different. She used to smile, laugh even. That all ended when the soldier came and told them Tadashi wasn’t coming home. Something broke inside her in that moment, and the slow decent into madness began.

  The good memories faded more with every year that passed. It was hard for him to recall what her face looked like with alert eyes and a smile. However, he remembered how he had felt then. He felt safe. He felt complete.

  “Fine.”

  Kenji’s despair grew as he approached the village. He knew he was close. Sagura stayed a few paces behind him, silent. Kenji appreciated the time to think. He could hear the sounds of the villagers coming to life, and the trail was well worn. He wanted to turn away. He wanted to sprint to the waterfall and run over the edge. He could end it all.

  Some odd sense of honor and gratitude kept him moving forward. His mother never asked for any of this. The least he could do was say goodbye.

  Kenji emerged from the forest trail and into the town. He shielded his eyes from the direct sun. The town hadn’t changed. Some villagers readied the axes to procure more wood from the forest, and others carried nets down the path to the ocean.

  Kenji kept his head down, but no one looked in his direction. He was as much a ghost as his mother.

  Walking down the old dirt roads brought Kenji back to his old life. He remembered his training with Ebusu. He remembered playing with the other kids, pretending to wield the legendary Zettai against them. The memories brought him only pain.

  Kenji rounded the corner and stopped in front of a plain hut. It was on the edge of town at the end of the road. At first glance, the home looked normal.

  However, it was devoid of decoration, and had been for years. The careful pride that most took in their home wasn’t present. Only grass grew around the house, giving it an odd, sterile look.

  He raised his hand to knock on the door and paused, staring at his hand. It was covered with dirt, but more importantly, he was trembling. He tried to tighten his fist and will the tremor away, but it was useless.

  Before Kenji could knock on the door, Sagura opened it for him. He placed a hand on Kenji’s shoulder and looked him over.

  “Find me when you are done.”

  “But I—”

  “Go, Kenji. Be with her.”

  Sagura held the door open and Kenji stepped through. The door closed behind him and his eyes adjusted to the dusty light within. Sagura didn’t follow him in.

  The large room felt dark, regardless of the beam of light entering the single window. Piles of clutter were everywhere. A few half-eaten bowls of rice still sat on the table.

  His eyes found the silhouette of slender woman sitting on the edge of a small bed. Her back was to Kenji.

  Suddenly, Kenji didn’t know what to say or do. His mother didn’t respond to much. She would answer the occasional question, but many times she would respond with a blank stare. Sometimes the simplest things would upset her.

  Kenji didn’t know how she would react to seeing him. After a moment of internal conflict, Kenji did what he would normally do.

  Taking gentle, quiet steps, he came to her side. He sat down next to her and placed his hand on hers. Slowly, she turned to see him. Her face was long and pale. Her hair was poorly managed, and it looked like she’d lost weight, even in the short time Kenji had been gone.

  Their eyes locked, and Kenji’s mother started breathing heavily. Her lip trembled a little and Kenji worried that she would start to panic.

  “Mother, it’s me, Kenji,” he said in a gentle tone.

  “I know. You just look like your father.” As she spoke, her hand tightened around his.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m fine.”

  “Has anyone been coming?” Kenji pressed. Someone was supposed to tend to her every day while he was gone.

  “They did, for a while. They stopped a few days ago.” She gave a small, awkward shrug.


  Kenji’s stomach turned over and the blood ran out of his face. He was struck with an overwhelming wave of guilt. How selfish had he become? He didn’t even think of his own mother.

  The village must have heard that Ebusu was disgraced and executed. Thus, all favor Kenji had with the people here was gone. They must have abandoned his mother in order to not be associated with the shame of the Gawan champion.

  Tears came to Kenji’s eyes as he studied his mother’s vacant expression. She probably hadn’t eaten in days. His stupidity was to blame.

  When he was younger, he’d heard rumors of healers that specialized in the mind. He asked the local healer about them, but he was told they were all fools, people who would take payment but deliver nothing.

  After that, Kenji knew that there was little hope for his mother. The most he could do was keep her comfortable, and even that felt impossible.

  “I’m sorry,” Kenji said. He had to use every ounce of willpower he had left not to sob at her side.

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a thin smile. “Shouldn’t you be training with Master Ebusu?”

  Kenji took a slow breath. Breaking down would only upset her, and she didn’t deserve that. Kenji knew he should tell her that Ebusu was fine. He should let her live in a world that wasn’t terrible.

  But there was still a grain of childlike hope inside him. It called out for him to tell her everything in the hope that she would comfort him. Maybe there was some part of her that could still bring comfort to Kenji and ease his suffering.

  Kenji wasn’t sure if he could say it, but in a strained whisper, he managed.

  “Ebusu is dead.”

  His mother’s blank stare formed into a look of confusion and grief. She leaned away from Kenji, as if he’d just struck her. Kenji reached out to comfort her, but she slapped his hand away.

  Kenji gave her a moment. He could see the fire in her eyes flicker as she fought to comprehend what Kenji said. Once her breathing settled, Kenji reached out to her again. She let him wrap his arm around her and pull her in tight.