by Lance Wilson
“Some believe a blade is thirsty until it tastes the blood of its enemy.” Bai-Shi-zi says as Byrdi hands him back the blade.
“The circle of wizards that the Kainith elves have can produce one rifle every seven minutes.” Byrdi says letting him know the odds of what he faces.
“We knew of this magic hundreds of years ago, and gave it up. It takes no courage to kill. A man from half a mile away. You must look into the eyes of your enemy to know who you have killed.” Bai Shi-zi says and looks hard into Byrdi’s eyes.
“I’m not sure an they would agree.” Byrdi says a smile on his face.
“Do you?” Bai Shi-zi says wondering where he stands, this man caught in two worlds.
“I think all killing is a filthy business.” Byrdi says a look of fierceness in his eyes now.
“To Taking a man’s life is nothing. It is his honor you can never take away.” Bai Shi-zi says sheathing his blade closing his eyes as it clicks into place.
“In other words you have no respect for human life.” Byrdi says with a snarl, a flash of flame in his eyes
“What do you know of human life? You come here to kill for money where is your family? Where is your wife, your sons? What is your legacy?” Bai Shi-zi says now snarling at him. How dare he question his respect for life, his honor?
“And what is yours? To rebel against the future? I fought the clans in our civil war. Their leaders believed they were fighting for “honor” just as you do. And their people died by the hundreds!” Byrdi says undaunted by the assault to his own character.
Bai Shi-zi says nothing but simply looks at him.
“My family is lost to me, dead I suspect, all of them,” he says knowing that is what he wanted, some glimpse into his life.
“I am the last of my generation, I understand,” he says looking hard into Byrdi’s eyes.
They look at each other. Some unexpected recognition has taken place.
“Tomorrow we will discuss your country’s wish for dominance in the… ” Far East.” Bai Shi-zi says using the Denerith elf term for the islands.
“I look forward to it.” Byrdi says bitterly then leaves to get his rest, the night is late and he is long heard the bed calling.
It is early in the mourning when Byrdi wakes and walks out to watch the village, his journal in hand. For the longest time he stares at the village sword smith at work. He has been forging the same long Vulkoori blade for months Byrdi watches him as he works.
‘I have never known such a disciplined people. From the moment they wake, they devote themselves to the perfection of whatever they pursue, and yet the more time I spend here the less I understand them. Everyone is polite, every nuance of behavior seems to have a great meaning, and increasingly I am convinced that the lower they bow the less they mean it. I’m sure they regard my ways to be as confounding and unfathomable as I find theirs.’ He finishes writing and then looks around, an ice crystal on the end of a branch begins to drip, spring has begun. The rest of the day he only sits and watches as the day progresses in front of him. Watches the people. Two women are bowing repeatedly, chattering in smiling, earnest argument. Villagers laugh as they go about the business of life. A man throws a sack of rice to another. Two-woman hurry away from a farmer who is teasing them. This place, this is a place of peace and happiness, he wonders how he could have ever thought it a prison Soon he is joined on the porch by Higen who is rolling a ball between his hands. Byrdi smiles at him and then scruffs his hair, Higen looks up with a bright smile and chuckles. Neckity watches from the inside, She is not sure how to treat this man but it is dear how much the children like him. Sure that he has wasted enough time Byrdi slowly makes his way to the middle of the town where the men are gathered, on the side of the building he picks up a wooden sword. As soon as they see this one of the other warrior’s smiles and bows at him then takes up his stance. They are to face off, a spar, it is the way they train and become better. Byrdi moves first, but his opponent counters, and strikes him easily. They wheel around and engage again, and again Byrdi is bested. Furious, he throws himself at his opponent, reverting to classic saber technique. In a flurry of movement, his opponent manages to deflect the blows and also knock Byrdi to his knees. Seeing Byrdi’s flaw Yoritomo approaches and bows.
“Byrdi. Please forgive. Too many mind.” Yoritomo says his common elf getting better but still broken
“What?” completely confused at what he is trying to say.
“Mind sword, mind face, mind people watch, too many mind. No mind.” Yoritomo says trying to break it down so that he can say it in a way that Byrdi can understand it.
“No mind?” Byrdi says shaking his head trying to grasp it all
“No mind. You try.” Yoritomo says now helping Byrdi up.
Byrdi nods, uncertainly, and picks himself up. Again he faces the opponent, shaking off the tension and trying to stay calm. This times the opponent charges first, and Byrdi manages to parry one blow, before he is again bested. Yoritomo bows happily and begins yammering in Salatar, clearly taking credit for Byrdi’s progress. Across the square, Bai Shi-zi watches.
It is late afternoon and Byrdi through with his practice finally, walks through the village past the sword smith who is now honing the blade, carefully sharpening it. He wonders how much time has past. Byrdi only smiles and makes his way though a stunning cherry forest near the village. The pink and red blossoms are dazzling and abundant. Other villagers can be seen gathering cherry blossoms. It is a place of otherworldly beauty. It is all so beautiful that Byrdi just stops. Takes it in for a moment. He reaches out and touches a blossom.
“A perfect blossom is a rare thing…” Bai Shi-zi says his voice taking Byrdi by surprise.
Byrdi turns to find him kneeling nearby meditating. He is so still and so silent it is no wonder why he missed him.
“You could spend your life looking for one. And it would not be a wasted life.” Bai Shi-zi says a look of peace across his face.
“Were you praying?” Byrdi says his voice soft in the forest, something about this moment, these blossoms; it almost seems to demand to be sacred.
“Just sitting, I do not think I have the word. Satori it means, maybe, awareness.” Bai Shi-zi says and smiles at him now.
“Of what?” Byrdi says wondering if he is about to be ambushed or attacked by some training method.
“This moment alone, apart from all others… You know this?” Bai Shi-zi asks slowly getting up now.
Byrdi only shakes his head; he’s not sure how one can separate one moment from the others.
“I am writing a poem about this time we have spent. I have only written one line on “His eyes were like my own but seen through a deep and troubled ocean. Can you suggest a second line?” He asks wondering if he might be able to help, but more so seeing if he can pick up the subtly of what he is saying.
“I’m not much of a writer.” He says looking around, the beauty of the moment almost inspiring him to say something,
“Is this why you spend so much time with your journal?” Bai Shi-zi says smiling at him, then turning his back to him.
“How do you know that? She told you.” Byrdi says answering his own question.
For the longest moment the two only stand there, Bai Shi-zi with his back to him. Bai Shi-zi appraises Byrdi. The sound of his heartbeat, the lengths of his breath, all of this is taken in.
“He was your own son?” Byrdi says knowing he stated it as a question, but really he is just saying it as a fact.
“You have sent men to their deaths, just as I have.” Bai Shi-zi says his voice still and calm
“The difference is, you feel nothing.” Byrdi says bitterly, how can he talk of his own son’s death this way.
“Before you were a soldier, you were a boy.” Bai Shi-zi says lowering his head.
“What does tha
t have to do with anything?” Byrdi says confused at all of this.
“You lived near a forest, near trees,” Bai Shi-zi says turning to him one more
“How do you know?” Byrdi says a bit infuriated that he could know all this
“The way you look at the cherry blossoms.” Bai Shi-zi says and looks around the forest himself.
“We lived in a place called Ronin. My… brothers and I climbed the trees.” Byrdi says reluctantly lowering his head at the memories of Mellyruna and Attonnan
“Were they beautiful?” Bai Shi-zi asks a soft smile on his face now.
“Yes.” Byrdi says his voice a whisper now.
“And you were sad to see them die in the winter.” Bai Shi-zi says knowing he did feel sad; he was much the same way with these cherry trees.
For five or six heart beats the two are silent and something flickers in Byrdi’s eyes
“You were something before you were a soldier. You were a boy who was sad to see the leaves fall and the trees die.” Bai Shi-zi says and lowers his head for a moment.
“Like those trees, we are all dying. The future is an illusion; our plans are an illusion, our fears an illusion. We live life in every breath. Eat, drink, and make love. Now, every cup of tea, every word we write, every blossom we hold.” He continues the smile on his face soft, but now lined with a deep sadness.
“Life in every breath. That is bushido. The way of the Vulkoori.” Bai Shi-zi finishes and with a sad polite bow he walks away leaving Byrdi standing in the forest deep in his own thoughts now.
It is late in the night as Byrdi bolts upright his peaceful night sleep broken by the sound of a rumble; he feels the ground beneath him vibrating. Again there is a huge rumble and the paper walls rip open, the wooden framework to the room splits and the roof collapses. An earthquake, the lurch throws Byrdi to the ground again and quickly he begins to make his way out the door and out of the house on his hands and knees. Once on the porch he meets Yoritomo. Both are thrown to the ground as a third lurch and they watch as the house contorts violently before part of it collapses in. All around the village the wooden frame houses are swaying and lurching they have some torque, but not enough
Byrdi is shocked but as he comes to himself he sees Ujio directs the villagers as they battle a fire. He wonders where he should be, panic hitting him, then a scream tears through the night, it is Neckity, she is screaming out the name of Toshiie. Another tremor hits and houses are ripped apart, the whole world shifting Smoke blocking the view of everyone; with a cough Byrdi looks around and then sees him. Toshiie is under the rubble of one of the houses, Cowering under an eave. A heavy ceiling beam breaks loose, threatens to crush Toshiie. Byrdi dives forward, grabs Toshiie and pulls him out of the way just in time as the front of the house collapses, the beam smashing to the ground. Neckity and Higen race to Byrdi and Toshiie. The boy is safe. Neckity grabs the child and cradles him. Her look to Byrdi is fierce, protective, and almost feral as if he were the threat instead of the rescuer. Not wasting time to talk of deal with it Byrdi quickly makes his way to Ujio who nods to him and points to where he wants him. Once there Salatar men begin handing him buckets of water and he joins them in battling the blazes through the night.
Once the blaze is put down and the quakes end the villagers are ushered to the temple where they are allowed to lay down and rest. The temple seems unaffected by the quake. Byrdi however does not go with them; he only stands at the center of the village shaking his head. It will be a long hard few days for them. In the early mourning everyone returns to the village and without a second thought they begin there work of clearing out the ruble and begin work on rebuilding their homes. Byrdi is struck by all of this. These people seem to just accept fate and all that it could throw at them, they simple just go with what happens, and even the children seem to understand that it just simply is. Higen and Yoritomo begin the framework and Byrdi watches for a moment, then sees that they are struggling with the heavy wooden frame, smiling he walks over and begins to help them. Days pass and the people continue to work on their houses. Byrdi works along side of Yoritomo they are further along then he thought they would be, they are now binding the fame together as Higen prepares the paper walls nearby. Byrdi is shocked to see Higen do this with the considerable skill he shows. As Neckity fetches rainwater from a barrel she observes Byrdi helping rebuild her home. She knows little about him but she can see the drastic changes that have over come him in the time that he has been here. She cannot help but grow fond of him. She listens to him talk to Yoritomo using the Salatar language, it’s still rough coming out of him but he is greatly improving.
“Houses stand stronger if stone,” he says making the sentence the best he can.
“No, the houses would fall. They come back easy with wood” Yoritomo says and chuckles at him. The two have become close friends.
Neckity slowly walks up and offers Byrdi a cup of water. Byrdi bows politely and takes it from her hands; he guzzles down the water and for the first time stares at her. Not realizing what he is doing slowly his right hand goes up to her blindfold with the gentlest touch he strokes where her eyes would be.
“You see, nothing?” he asks a kind of sorrow in his voice.
“I see everything, just different,” She says trying to explain how the loss of her sight is nothing; magic gave her new eyes, more powerful ones.
Her hand then gently goes to his, and with the same tenderness she lowers his hand from her eyes. Then with a polite bow she fills the cup again with the other woman and begins to give the other men of the village water.
“Do you know why? Accident?” Byrdi asks about the blindfold to Yoritomo
“No accident, prophet, seer” Yoritomo says pointing to the temple of his head, telling Byrdi that she is a prophet.
Byrdi is shocked at this but shakes it off; they still have much work to do.
It is late in the night almost two weeks after earthquake the whole village has been rebuilt. Torches illuminate a small stage in the center of the village square. Several Vulkoori perform a ritualistic Noh drama. (A form, which, by the way, the Vulkoori invented.) Others play flutes and large steel drums. Bai Shi-zi himself plays the lead role. An enthusiastic actor, he plays to the children in the audience. They are delighted with his broad theatrics.
Not far away Neckity is carrying in a huge lack of rice. Byrdi seeing this cannot help himself and goes to help her.
“
Byrdi however pays no attention to her and carries the rice for her into the pantry area.
“
“” Byrdi says and places the rice where it is meant to go.
As he lays the rice down Neckity stares at him. In the little time she has been able to see the real him, she has begun to feel closeness to him
<“I am not Salatar.”> Byrdi says a slight smile on his face
In spite of herself, she can’t help but smile. But the stands there in the silence, staring at her, the moment builds and begins to turn awkward
<“I… didn’t know he was your husband.”> Byrdi says and lowers his head, he’s not sure why he is apologizing but it has been on his mind for some time and it is something that needs said.
<“He did his duty. You did your duty.”> Neckity says her eyes soft and inviting. There is much she needs to tell him, much she still needs to figure out herself.
<“And you do yours.”> Byrdi says his voice full of sorrow, is this all it is to her, her duty to help him.
If only he could tell her the words that he truly wants to, if only she understood common. She has been more to him these last few months then anyone else. She has been like a lover to him, she saw his deep wounds and with all the
gentleness of an angel she helped him mend them. Not once giving in to anger, well maybe once or twice.
“
For the longest moment the two just stare at each other, allowing themselves to get lost in the others eyes. But there is much still to do and she starts to move, but he stops her. They are close enough to smell each other’s hair, to feel the warmth of the other’s breath. She looks up at him, pleading with her eyes not to take this any further. Byrdi seeing the plea in her eyes smiles softly and lets her go. Once she is released she smiles and bows to him then makes her way to her house walking into her own room and shutting the door. Slowly she leans against the paper wall and allows her breathing to become normal again. She knows what is happening, she has seen in many times but never felt it, she is falling in love. She then walks over to a small trunk in her room and opens it, in it is a long formless black robe and a mask. The mask is pure white with only eyeholes. There is a black line under each eye like a black teardrop and black lipstick where the lips would be. Skorm, she must remember Skorm. This boy, this Byrdi, no matter how much her body or her heart craves him she cannot allow herself to give in to the lusts. She will play his game and return the affection, if only to know that he cares and that perhaps she can return to him when all this is done. But she cannot give herself before then.
It is early the next morning in the middle of the village where Byrdi stands across from Ujio, ready again for the ken-jutso. They stand frozen for a long time, hands on the hilts of their wooden swords. Other Vulkoori watch. Byrdi and Ujio stare at each other. But there is something different about Byrdi’s expression. Not as much fury and competition, more a sense of balance and alertness. He studies Ujio’s eyes, his hands, the folds of his kimono, and the attitude of his body. Byrdi slowly closes his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the moment. Gradually all sound drains away. We hear only Byrdi’s steady breathing. He is aware of everything. A bird in a tree. A woman grinding rice. A plum about to fall. A gently swaying battle flag, when he opens his eyes again he is ready; there is a sense of control and oneness in him. He makes the first attack a quick downward strike. Ujio of course sees this as an amateur and childish strike and raises the wooden blade to deflect, Byrdi anticipates this and as soon as the wooden blades connect he spins it and swings his sword at a more slashing technique. The move is fast and skilled but Ujio is no amateur and drops his sword tip down so the wooden blade is parallel with his body blocking the blow. Undaunted Byrdi takes a step forward, spins completely around and goes for a side slash at his apposing side, it is a masterful move. Ujio is forced to take a step back and spin his blade to block the blow. Byrdi sees his opportunity and with a shout of fury goes for a powerful swing overhead. Ujio smiles and knows that his fury will be his undoing and that he has won. He lowers his blade blocking Byrdi, but this is exactly what he wanted, the fury was false fury. He steps into the block and soon the two are pressed chest to chest, Byrdi then slips his foot behind Ujio’s then with everything he has he pushes Ujio back disengaging the block. Ujio goes to step back but trips over Byrdi’s foot and stumbles, Byrdi takes advantage of this and steps forward slamming the blade into the wrist of Ujio’s sword hand. It hits right on the wrist and Ujio drops his blade unwilling, then in a flash the tip of Byrdi’s blade is at his throat. The other Vulkoori watch. Amazed. Byrdi twirls his sword in a fancy cavalry “flourish.” The pride he has always taken in his swordsmanship has been restored. He bows to Ujio. Ujio nods his head, slightly, in respect the other Vulkoori, led by the hearty Nakao, congratulate Byrdi. Once he is able to break away from the other Vulkoori he walks back over to Ujio and presents him with the wooden sword bowing his head.
