by Damon Glatz
“Did you know that Mythics don’t need food? It’s true. They just exist, forever. It did not need to eat that day; it does not survive from our sacrifices. It demands them to remind us that we are weak, to keep men living in fear. I swore that one day I would take revenge on Ivan and the Sea Serpent from the west.
“Yet here I am... wasting away.”
Chapter Nine:
New Beginnings
Nicholas fell silent. Ohitekah waited a respectful moment before he spoke. Nicholas had really opened up to him by telling this personal story. He did not know what to say. Ohitekah now realized the pain he caused by what he said in the tavern two days ago. Nicholas had tried to fight a Mythic, and he lost everything.
“I can help you,” Ohitekah said quietly. “We can help each other.”
“It’s a fool’s errand. Neither of us can take on a Mythic, boy.” Nicholas refused to look Ohitekah in the eye.
“Not alone, but with help, maybe. We can help each other!” Ohitekah stood up.
Nicholas paused, shook his head in an attempt to talk himself out of the idea he was forming.
He’s just a stupid kid. He has no idea what it’s like, Nicholas thought.
“I mean, you made yourself a promise, Nicholas. You need to do something.”
Why does he even care? Nicholas thought as he struggled to find what he should say.
Nicholas’ eyes met Ohitekah’s, giving him a hard, judgmental look. Nicholas nodded.
“Boy, you’ve saved my life today. Perhaps I owe you.” He looked down, a flicker growing in his eye. “Ya know what, let’s see what happens. I ain’t got anything better to do. Let’s see what other tricks you have up your sleeve.” Nicholas smiled at him. Ohitekah grinned back. “We can begin tomorrow, I know a good place to start.”
Ohitekah could not wait. He had finally found someone to help him, a true friend. He lay down and excitedly waited for the morning, sure he wouldn’t sleep. Nicholas lay down near him to sleep, but could not take his mind off his family, his failure. He was glad though, glad that he might be able to make things right again. This stranger gave him a chance he needed for redemption, and that was more meaningful then anything anyone had done for him in quite a long time.
They both lay in silence. Ohitekah’s thoughts turned from his new friend to the things he did that day.
I killed someone...
Ohitekah tried to reason with himself. He had to do it. He had to save his friend.
That man was just doing his job, his duty as a guard. He did not want to kill Nicholas, he probably didn’t even know why he was going to kill him. It was an order.
Ohitekah wrestled with his conscious for a few hours, trying to let it go. He never wanted to kill again. No one deserves to die, not even the man who was going to kill Nicholas.
When the red sun rose the next morning, Nicholas woke up to the sound of Ohitekah disassembling camp. Everything was nearly packed and ready to go by the time he sat up.
The lad is certainly very eager. Nicholas thought as he smiled.
“Did I wake you? Sorry. We really should get moving, the soldiers are still looking for us in these woods,” Ohitekah said, while he scattered the remains of his natural makeshift bed.
“Good work, kid.” Nicholas cracked his knuckles. “We’re heading north today.” He stood up and cracked his back. “A much bigger town, lots of work for hire.”
“For hire?” Ohitekah asked. “How are we going to hire them exactly?”
“You got me to work without payin’.” Nicholas smiled at him. “Maybe we can work something out.” He gave a wink.
They packed their horses and rode out of the woods with renewed conviction. Nicholas led them north for a few hours. Nicholas hummed quietly song after song, sometimes letting a lyric or two slip out. Ohitekah wondered where they came from, but never asked.
“Have you been to this town before?” Ohitekah wondered, breaking the melody of his friend.
“Yes,” replied Nicholas, clearing his throat. “Once or twice.” They rode on for a while longer before Nicholas brought it up again. “This town is filled with forgotten soldiers, knights with no lords, and dishonored Ronin. Better keep your wits about you, lots of vagabonds and thieves.”
“What is a Ronin?”
“Warriors from the north, from behind The Great Wall. They were once samurai warriors, but they were dishonored in battle and now have no leader. In Northern culture, a samurai can pass on to the Overworld if you live and die for your master. Some, when their moment came, fear death and fled to Ashland to live, but live in shame. I’m sure we will meet a few of them,” Nicholas stated in a tone that was more direct than anything.
Why did they have to die if they were dishonored? Seems unfair.
“And, umm...” Nicholas cleared his throat again. “The Ashlanders and the northerners ain’t exactly on the greatest terms right now, after the war and the Mythic and all. It’s been a while, yes, but they’re still sour about their history. Best not to mention Mythics... Just lemme do the talkin’, all right?”
Ohitekah gave a concerned nod and agreed.
The town was now in sight, a bustling city of merchants and peddlers, with rows of buildings large and small. Knights walked the streets in small, disorganized units; some of them were little more than peasants with swords. There were a few men who looked like Nicholas, surely from the same chain of islands. There were strange men as well. They wore robes instead of armor, with their long hair tied back. Their swords were unusually curved. These men were surely the Ronin warriors Nicholas was talking about.
“Should we watch out for these knights? What if they are looking for us?” Ohitekah asked Nicholas.
“Most of these knights here are deserters of the crown, they don’t care about us. We’re gonna fit in ‘ere.”
Nicholas led him through the crowded streets of the town on horseback. There were stands of people selling weapons, food and jewelry. There were street performers playing music or spinning swords. Groups of homeless beggars lined the alleys between buildings. This brought up an important question for Ohitekah.
“Where are we spending the night?”
“At an inn. Don’t worry. I have some coin to spend. But it’s still early, keep an eye out for anyone that looks like they are desperate enough to join us.”
Ohitekah looked around for warriors. Nicholas’ suggestion was almost irrelevant because everyone here looked desperate. There were plenty of ex-soldiers talking amongst themselves. Some of them were laughing and drinking.
The Ronin did not congregate with anyone it seemed, they all stood or sat alone. They studied the crowds. While the Ashland soldiers did not seem to notice Nicholas or Ohitekah as they walked by, every Ronin watched them carefully. They stayed in the shadows, hooded in their cloaks instead of armor. They were smart, the mark of a good fighter. Ohitekah wanted one to help them.
“I want a Ronin,” Ohitekah told Nicholas thoughtfully.
“Ronin don’t mess around, not a very friendly bunch. You sure?”
“Yes, we need more than just your muscle, and I don’t trust these knights here.”
“Well, good luck finding one to help ya. They can be hired but not for cheap, not for anything I’ve got on me.” Nicholas chuckled. “Hey look, this is the inn here.” Nicholas stopped his horse and dismounted in front of one of the taller inns with a tavern on the main floor. The writing above the inn wrote out The Dizzy Mule. Laughter and arguments radiated through the open door.
“I’m gonna secure us a room, and maybe get a swig.” Nicholas laughed again. “You walk around and see what you can find, boy. Stay on your toes. I trust ya.”
Nicholas and Ohitekah walked their horses to the stable, Ohitekah noticed all the horses here were tied to posts inside. He moved to tie up Bolt who resisted at first, then calmed down after a few pets and soothing words.
There was a loud uproar as if Nicholas recognized the people inside as old friends. Ohitekah turned
around and observed the street. People from all around the world were here, people from cultures he knew nothing about, living together in this town of thieves and forgotten soldiers. Ohitekah walked down the road, making arbitrary turns down streets to see what he could find. Remembering it was important to keep track the way back to the inn, he paced himself. Up ahead there were a few Ronin standing in a group laughing. These were unlike the other Ronin he had seen before. Ohitekah felt comfortable approaching these friendlier-looking northerners.
They fell silent as he walked up to them, his comfort immediately vanishing. "Is there anyone here who could use some work?" he asked timidly. The Ronin unsettled him more than any other class of warrior.
This group looked younger than the rest of the Ronin who he had seen. One of the bigger ones spoke first, he carried a thick northern accent that made him hard to understand at first. “Work? Everyone here is looking for something for work. But our kind of work is not a farmer or merchant, we’re killers. So, ask again. Ask us if we want to kill for you.”
Ohitekah paused and glanced around uncomfortably. “Can you kill for me?”
“No!” him and the other men started to laugh.
Ohitekah started to get flustered. “I thought you Ronin were great warriors.”
“Ronin? Who are you calling Ronin? Look at us, we are the great samurai from the north! We fight for Shoguns and emperors, not peasant tribesmen like you, child.”
Ohitekah was shocked at their attitudes. They were no better than the knights he met earlier. One of the other Ronin stepped forward.
“Listen, boy, I’ll work for ya.” He elbowed his buddy in a friendly manner, chuckling quietly. “Just tell me where to meet you and we can talk about it tomorrow.”
Ohitekah started to get excited. “Oh! Thank you! I’m rooming with my friend at the inn down the road, The Dizzy Mule. His name is Nicholas.”
He nudged one of his friends and smiled. “Okay, kid, I’ll see you there in the morning.”
Ohitekah smiled, thanked him. As he walked away the men resumed their conversation and laughter. He retraced his steps back to the inn. It was starting to get late and Ohitekah was looking forward to a good night’s rest.
He walked inside the dark inn, which stank of alcohol and perspiration. There was a table with a group of knights and Vatnic men that were playing a rowdy card game. One man slammed his cards down and collected a pile of chips from the table’s center. The rest of the men groaned and accused him of cheating. Another table had two men playing a strange board game by themselves, completely engrossed. There was a third table in the corner that Ohitekah had almost missed entirely. It was occupied by two Ronin. They leaned over the table, quietly talking and playing a card game by themselves. No one in the bar paid them a second thought. They paused talking and studied Ohitekah when he noticed them sitting there in the dark. He quickly looked away and talked to the woman at the bar. She directed him to his room. It was on the second floor, room two. He was not surprised to find Nicholas was already passed out on his own bed, snoring loudly. His armor and weapons were discarded around the room carelessly.
Ohitekah placed down his bow and quiver and stood for a moment over tonight’s bed. He had no idea beds could be this thick. He sat on it and sank down into it for a long moment while Nicholas snored across the room. It was also way too high off the ground, he feared that he would fall off in the middle of the night and hit the floor.
Ohitekah unpacked his things and laid his blankets and pillow on the floor, the wood underneath his beddings was hard but at least he was on the ground level where he was safe.
I can’t believe I actually found a Ronin to help us, he thought to himself as he grew comfortable enough to close his eyes. As night fell the street outside grew quieter, his mind finally began to still. He had never heard sounds quite like this before, in his home village the tribe was silent at night. Here the bustle of vendors and the chatter of people kept him awake. His mind wandered while he attempted to sleep.
I wonder why that Ronin is in Ashland. Can he teach me to use one of those curved swords? I like them better than Ashland swords. Why don’t they wear armor? Maybe it’s underneath the robes, like chain mail or something. Maybe he is in a secret society of samurai that spies on Ashland.
Ohitekah fell asleep before he realized it. When the sounds of business on the streets crept into his room at sunrise, he woke up excitedly. He could not wait to meet the man who offered to help him. He sat up in bed and saw Nicholas still asleep. Out of habit he reached for his bow which he had laid next to him but felt nothing. He jumped to his feet and scanned the room in a panic. Everything was gone.
Chapter Ten:
Red
“Wake up!” Ohitekah shouted, shaking Nicholas in his bed. He groaned and rolled over, the bed creaking and bending under his weight. Ohitekah shook him harder. “Nicholas! Wake up now!”
“What?” Nicholas sat up abruptly and looked around. He blinked hard a few times. “Where’d all my stuff go?”
“We must have been robbed! They took everything.”
Ohitekah was not too upset about his things. Anything that he lost could be remade with the tools of the forest. He felt horrible about Nicholas’ weapons and armor though, those he could not make himself.
His father’s sword, too.
“Sonofa...” Nicholas got out of bed. He rubbed his head with his large palm. He looked different without his heavy armor. A little bit smaller...and hairier. He scanned the room, growing frustrated. “Well, you’re the tracker! Who did it?”
Ohitekah had not analyzed the room for clues yet. The floor was made from wood, so there were no footprints to look at. He took some time and walked around quietly.
I don’t know…
“Everything is just gone. They left no tracks.” Ohitekah was embarrassed.
“Well, who did you talk to yesterday?”
“A few samurai. They offered to help us, maybe they know who did it?”
Nicholas paused. "Samurai?”
There’s no samurai here, only Ronin, Nicholas thought.
“Did you tell them where you were staying?”
Ohitekah started putting the pieces together himself.
“Yes,” He looked at his feet.
“Bloody fool.” Nicholas stood up. “You’re lucky they didn’t slit out throats while they were at it!” Ohitekah sat down on the bed. He was crushed. How could he have been so foolish to believe those men? Nicholas calmed himself down.
“Oh, stop mopin’ boy. Let’s go get my… Our… things back.” Nicholas slapped him on the back.
Ohitekah rushed outside to check on Bolt, but he was still in the stable where he was left. Stroking the horse’s fur for a moment of relief, he followed Nicolas down the street. The roads were becoming crowded as the day picked up. They scanned the crowd.
“Okay, now where did you meet these guys?” Nicholas asked, searching for a clue.
“Just over here.” Ohitekah led him to the place where the samurai were before. But to no one’s surprise, they were no longer there. “Can we just report them to the town guard?”
Nicholas laughed. “No, boy, they’re just as corrupt as the street thieves. For all we know, it was the guard that robbed us! Ha!” They looked around. “Well, they’re not here, so let’s just walk. I guarantee they’re’ round ‘ere somewhere.”
They wandered through the town, now looking no better than beggars themselves, lost and wearing nothing more than rags. As they scoured the streets they could see Ronin lurking in the shadows around corners and in alleys, but not the unusual talkative group Ohitekah met yesterday. All the foot traffic made it impossible to track any prints at all. Ohitekah had a feeling they were not hiding though. Those men are thugs. They wouldn’t cower from us, he thought.
“Hey! Look who needs a hired sword now!” a man shouted, followed by laughter.
Impossible.
Ohitekah was shocked when he saw them. It was the men fro
m yesterday. They called out to Ohitekah from a wide, unoccupied alleyway. “You fellas must be new in town. We’re so sorry to hear about your incident last night!” They laughed again.
“You the bastards that took my things? Where’s my sword?” Nicholas’ voice was booming, his cheery disposition gone.
“What?” one of the men said. “You mean this?” He held up Nicholas’ broadsword, with its tip sticking into the ground. Clearly, he was struggling to pick it up, which he was trying to hide. “Figure I can get a good price for this one, good steel, just as good as that plated western armor we got over here.”
There were five of them, all armed with their own curved samurai swords. The two were no match for the thieves, having no weapons. Even worse, their opponents knew it.
“You cowards, stealing from us in the middle of the night. You knew you were no match for us in a real fight,” Nicholas taunted.
Their laughter quieted down. “You really think you can fight a samurai, Vatnic?”
“A real samurai, maybe not, but you pretenders... definitely.” Nicholas smiled.
They glanced at each other for encouragement. The one Ohitekah spoke with yesterday stepped forward. “I’ll do it just to shut this guy up. Put your armor on and let’s get this over with.”
They backed away from Nicholas’ things. He walked over with a careful eye in case anyone made a sudden move while he was putting his armor on.
You never know with these guy,. Nicholas thought, being vigilant.
Once Nicholas got his armor in place he lifted his sword easily with one hand and smirked at the Ronin who had struggled with it earlier. Ohitekah and the other men moved back from the two fighters. A crowd of pedestrians formed around them to watch as word spread about a fight.
