by Damon Glatz
Space was cleared in the street and a circular woven wicker target was placed about twenty yards down the road. An eager crowd stood and watched as the wages were placed on a wooden table. Twenty silver pieces and two katanas. Red placed his sword down with clear discomfort.
“Good luck,” Red said and he mounted his horse again to watch. Ohitekah cracked a grin when he realized Red was speaking to the merchant.
Lance and Nicholas had to push and shove their way through the crowded streets. Saying they blended in was an understatement, in this crowd they were invisible. The hardest part was fighting their way through the groups of bickering merchants as they bargained a trade. Even on their horses, people stood in the way and ignored them.
Lance felt a hand creep into his pocket.
He shot down and grabbed the wrist of the man who attempted to pickpocket him. It was a northerner about his age. The thief gave a guilty grin, caught in the act. Lance returned the grin as he flicked his hand back and broke the man’s wrist.
The crowds began to keep their distance.
Lance slowed down the pace when he realized they were catching up to Red. He was mounted on his horse and was watching something in the street. Lance squinted his eyes to see what it was.
“Oh, holy hell!” Nicholas shouted and pointed.
“Yes, I see it,” Lance muttered.
“That’s Red’s katana! They’re betting with it!”
“Yes. I can see that.”
“Let’s get closer, I wanna watch.” Nicholas rode forward to get a better look at the action about to take place. Lance stayed back.
The other man walked to the area to fire first. His bow was very modern and crafted to perfection. He gave a bow to the crowd before anything else, and then drew his arrow back and fired. The show was almost perfect. His arrow hit close to the center of the target with enough force to knock the circle over and onto the ground.
The target was now lying flat on the dirt with the arrow pointing straight up. The man motioned for Ohitekah to take his turn. Ohitekah hesitated.
“Well, young samurai, it’s your turn. Take your shot.”
“Aren’t you going to fix the target?”
“We agreed to shoot the same target. I did not mean to knock it over, but it would be cheating if we moved it just for you.”
The man gave a cheeky sneer.
So that’s the trick, that’s how he beats everyone.
“What!” Nicholas shouted from the back of the crowd. Red shot him a glare from a distance and he quieted down.
Ohitekah studied the target. This was not fair in the least, but he could still make the shot. The wind was still. There was a breeze above the houses though. He would need to aim almost straight up for it to come down at the right angle.
I can do it.
The crowd fell silent. Ohitekah took a steady breath. He dropped to a knee, aimed straight up and let loose an arrow almost completely vertical. The crowd, unsure of his aim, panicked and moved back. The arrow went high into the sky. Everyone’s eyes followed it. Red’s head remained motionless. He stared at Ohitekah, watching him closely. There was a pause and a hush of breath as the arrow began to arc back down.
It landed with a hard thud in the direct center of the target. The crowd cheered. The man’s face dropped in disbelief at the impossible shot. Red began to second guess himself and wonder if he could manage a shot like that, it was incredible.
“Holy shit!” Nicholas shouted.
“That boy is not joking around with that bow, that was impressive,” Lance said. “Let’s get out of here.” They backed out of the crowd.
Ohitekah excitedly ran up and collected the pile of coins and the two swords. “You can keep the arrow,” he said with a smile.
“What should I call you, samurai?” the man said before letting him leave.
“I am Oda Tonkeowa,” Ohitekah took his time pronouncing his fake name.
“I am Yu Ryouku. It has been a pleasure, Oda. Come back any time.” He gave a deep bow and Ohitekah did the same. As Yu stood up from his bow, Ohitekah noticed a tattoo on his right wrist. It was a red spade.
That’s what Lance was asking about earlier.
Ohitekah decided not to mention it and gave Red his sword back.
“Sorry about betting this.”
“It’s all right, I never doubted you. You trusted in yourself and it paid off. Keep it up.”
Chapter Twenty-One:
Change of Course
They walked a while further along the busy street to the end of town. Ohitekah could hear some people gossiping about the amazing shot a young samurai had. He thought about what he wanted to spend his money on before he left. Under Red’s suggestion, Ohitekah tried sushi for the first time. His first few bites tasted strange, but they got better as he ate. It was something he could get used to. The crowd began to thin as they moved further away from the Wall.
Soon they were crossing into farmland, wide-open fields of crops, with thin streams running along them. The landscape was lush and beautiful. There were tall towers and a few castles in the distance. Red explained how the public officials and high-ranking samurai would live in these homes. The farmland stretched as far as the eye could see. Red avoided other city centers and kept to the rural roads. Lance and Nicholas were following a good distance behind. Red appeared to be deep in thought.
Ohitekah decided to break his concentration. “You all right?”
“I am not sure.” Red paused. “I have some questions that need to be answered before we leave here.”
This was concerning; Red was always the one with all the answers.
What could he possibly be worried about?
“What kind of questions?”
“It’s complicated.” Red looked at Ohitekah and hesitated. He deserves to know, Red considered for a moment.
He took a deep breath. “I want to know which deity sent you those visions. I need to ask about the Thunder Mythic. That is the Mythic that is rarest seen, and I know little about it. There is a library in the Orbis Republic that may have the information I need, or perhaps I might need to ask another Mythic.”
“How could you ask another Mythic?” Ohitekah asked.
“The Mythic of Wind, I have met him before. He is an ancient and wise creature. I am certain he could help me now.”
“Where would you meet him?”
“The mountains.” Red looked to his right. Ohitekah followed his line of sight. In the distance, there was a tall range of white peaks higher than the clouds. “That is the Mythic’s home. Blaze and I could be there and back before dusk.”
“Wait,” Ohitekah said quietly. “Can I go with you?”
“I thought you would ask,” Red said with a small smile. “We will have to run it by Lance.”
“Absolutely not,” Lance said sternly. Red and Ohitekah had waited on the side of the road for Lance and Nicholas to catch up to ask the question. “We can’t risk it and we can’t waste any more time. The mountains are giant frozen deathtraps and it’s an unnecessary risk.”
“Ohitekah and I could make the journey and be back in two days. If you want, you two could move ahead and we can catch back up,” Red defended his decision.
“If you think you can keep trying to sneak away from us, it’s not going to work, Daisuke.” Lance thought hard, he growing impatient. “We’re all going. But this is the last time, Daisuke, no more detours!” Lance held out his fist and began to list on his fingers. “Mountains, gate, Vatnic Isles, plains. That’s it. Then we have our battle, Daisuke. No more stalling.”
Red nodded, letting Lance continue to believe he truly had a say in the matter. They turned right and began up the road toward the mountains. The range was barely visible on the horizon. Lance and Nicholas began to lag behind again as the walk continued. The path was winding and stretched for miles. They passed many farms and countryside, beautiful lands with acres of plantation, fields of rice and wheat, men working the land. They rode in silence for
a long while. Ohitekah took in the magnificent scenery around him. No one in his tribe knew the beauties of the rest of the world. He wished he were an artist so he could paint the lands around him, and remember it forever.
“This is ridiculous,” Lance muttered, glaring at the rice fields. “He’s afraid to fight so he keeps stalling, making up new things to do.”
“I don’t think his fight with you is his concern at all, his objective it to help the kid. That’s all he thinks about, so get over yourself,” Nicholas argued.
“That child can’t possibly defeat the Mythic of Thunder. It’s not possible. It hasn’t even landed in thousands of years, all it does is fly above the clouds. Now that kid can shoot a bow I’ll give him that, but no one can shoot that high.” Lance thought out loud... “Daisuke must know this, he must know that the boy stands no chance. That’s why he keeps dragging us around.”
“There’s something special about that kid. He’s managed to get this far,” Nicholas thought out loud. “There’s more to him than we can see. Think about it, all of us are after a Mythic, all of us are against the odds. But only he was chosen for this job, someone upstairs picked him for this mission. I think he has a better chance than any of us.”
“Well, that’s encouraging,” Lance said spitefully. “I only agreed to go this far because I need to keep an eye on those two, possibly learn what I can about these mountain monks as well. The Ashland texts have little on them. Maybe while I’m here I can get my hands on that Wind Mythic too.”
Nicholas shot a glare. “You wouldn’t.”
Lance smiled. “No, I wouldn’t. I don’t go around killing other cultures’ Mythics like some of us present do.” Lance locked his vision straight ahead to Red.
They must have ridden for hours because the sun was beginning to set. The four set up camp off to the side of the road. This path seemed lightly traveled and it appeared safe to rest here. The mountains were closer now. The base seemed only a short distance away, with the snowy peaks towering through the layer of thick white clouds. The mountains were certainly intimidating from down where they were.
Lance and Nicholas settled down not far behind. The two of them had a small fire going and were cooking. Red was meditating a short distance away from Ohitekah. He dared not disturb him.
Ohitekah laid down and looked at the night sky. He missed his mom, Akando, and Mae. They probably thought he was dead at this point. It happens sometimes: someone goes on their own spirit quest and never comes back. Some people say they just meet the spirits and want to join them. Sometimes they get taken by a different tribe, or just get lost to the elements. Ohitekah wondered how many nights his mother spent crying thinking her son was dead. He wondered if she would forgive him when he returned...if he returned. Would she ever know what he had went through to go home? His tribe must have moved by now, who knows where they could have traveled. That would be a challenge. Even when everything is said and done, he would still have to track down his tribe on his own. Ohitekah felt sorry for his mom, he did not mean to do this to her.
She has no one now.
Plagued by bad dreams and sadness, Ohitekah slept very little. It was one of those nights where every decision made sinks deep into the heart. He wished he was as brave and smart as Red, as strong and light hearted as Nicholas, as determined and proud as Lance. Ohitekah had none of those things. He was a boy from the plains, with no outstanding characteristics. Why was he here? What is he supposed to do? Even if he killed the Mythic, what was he supposed to do with all that power?
Ohitekah watched the scarlet sun rise over the pink fields, and Red watched it as well. They sat in silence all through the dark night together, Red meditating, Ohitekah trying to sleep.
Silently Red stood up. “Time to go.”
The mountains were upon them quickly. A stone archway led to a long slithering trail that made its way up the mountainside. From this angle on the ground they could not see the peaks towering high above them. Lance and Nicholas caught up to them in a moment or two. Ohitekah noticed that Lance had changed back into his armor. Ohitekah wondered for a moment why he would do that.
There was writing on the stone arch at the base of the path that the group paused for a moment to observe. Red translated the northern symbols before anyone could ask him to.
“Bring with you only yourself. The path is as challenging as you decide.”
Red started his ride up the mountain without saying another word.
“Is it too late to mention I have a fear of heights?” Nicholas said and began to ride up the mountain next. Lance silently followed, only staring in front of him. Ohitekah stayed behind. He was nervous.
Bring only yourself.
For a moment he thought to take off his weapons, leave his horse, and walk alone. That’s what the message said, “Bring only yourself.”
That’s not what they did. They kept everything.
The rest were clearly doing it wrong. You need to leave everything at the base of the mountain. That’s the message.
But Bolt... I can’t leave him. He is a part of me.
That’s it!
He made his bow using only his skills and resources, he found Bolt in the plains when he had nothing else. These things are himself, as Red said, “an extension.”
The path is as challenging as you decide.
Ohitekah had given up on a whole night’s sleep because he was so upset. He had a mountain to climb the next day, yet all he did was worry about his life. Worrying had only made things worse, solving nothing. It made him angry at his friends and hate himself, making his own life harder for no reason. He believed in himself to make the shot yesterday, and he made it. He needed to stay positive. If they can climb the mountain, so can he.
He reared Bolt and they raced up the path to catch up with the others. Red was giving a lecture when he arrived in the back. They paid no mind to his slow arrival. Nicholas gave him a wink.
“The only people who take this road are those seeking enlightenment. The monks practice many fighting arts as a form of self-betterment. We have no enemies up this mountain. Watch your step and focus on your breathing.”
The climb was long and hard. The trail snaked its way higher and higher, twisting through ancient steps carved before time. The air itself began to fight against being breathed in. Nicholas wrapped himself in a thick fur coat. Being from the Vatnic Isles, he was prepared for the cold. Red and Lance showed no regard to the weather. Lance was too proud to show he was cold, but Ohitekah could see his breath in the air. The path became lost in flurries of snow. The white began to pile up on the trail and the horses struggled with the climb. Red took the lead again. As his horse walked, the snow melted in his trail, making a very nice path of water and dirt behind him. Ohitekah was glad Red was leading the way and melting the snow. The fire powers seemed to come in handy often. He wondered what practical uses lightning could have.
Probably not much.
The cold began to distract him from his thoughts.
“Do not worry, we are almost at the top,” Red spoke through the mist.
It began to grow foggy; they were climbing through the clouds now. Red lit a bright light in his palm and continued to lead the group through the blinding whiteness, nothing in front of them but Red’s flame. At any moment, any misstep would lead them off a cliff. They had to trust him. Lance kept a hand on the hilt of his blade. That’s how he survived this long: never be too careful, don’t trust anyone. They blindly climbed out over the cloud and into the open air. The group was between two layers of clouds, the one they just traveled through, and another layer higher over them. The sky remained elusive. There they could see the rest of the trail, leading to a great golden gate.
“Finally!” Nicholas let out in a deep breath.
There was a village on top of the mountain, behind the golden arch. Inside were robed monks walking around in silence. A yellow wooden wall surrounded the small town. As Red led the way into the village, the monks seemed aloof
to their presence. It was as if the group was not there at all, phantoms riding through a ghostly fog. The monks carried on with their own business, sitting under the sky meditating, reading scrolls, delicately training in fighting skills. This world seemed to operate in a silent slow motion. Red rode straight through the town without addressing anyone. He led them straight through the back of the community and out another gate.
“I thought that was it. Where are we going?” Nicholas asked.
“Up there.” Red pointed. The new trail lead to the peak of the mountain. Resting on the peak was an impressive tower, so high it went through another level of clouds, piercing the heavens.
Nicholas let out a groan and they continued riding up the trail. Arriving at the base of the golden tower, Ohitekah noticed a single monk holding a wooden staff. Red dismounted and bowed to him.
“Daisuke. It is a pleasure to see you,” the monk said. He looked at the faces of the group. “Ohitekah, we have been expecting you as well. Your arrival has been much anticipated. You and your friend may continue up the tower.” He motioned aside to the door. Red bowed again and stepped inside. Ohitekah did the same.
“What about me?” Nicholas said.
“I am sorry, I do not know who you are,” the monk said apologetically.
“I’m Nicholas the Brute! Son of Bjorn, heir to the throne of the Vatnic Isles! Hasn’t my battle to slay the Water Mythic been magically foretold or something?”
“Cannot say it has, my friend,” spoke the monk.
“Well, I need to make sure my friend is okay up there, so I’m going up anyway.” Nicholas charged the door. In a flash, the monk hit a number of his pressure points and flipped him onto his back. Nicholas groaned and lay on the dirt, defeated. The monk looked at Lance as if expecting him to do something.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine right here.”
The monk nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Two:
