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Has it all been worth it? So many sacrifices and things lost to “the cause.” In the end did that cost outweigh the outcome? Will there ever be peace in a heart that has known nothing but violence for a lifetime? Can the pieces still be put back together to make a whole again? What would father have done?

These were the thoughts that plagued him everyday. If he closed his eyes, the burden, the pain, the sorrow would come flooding back, drowning his heart and mind in sadness and despair. Sleep was out of the question for the weary warrior, and meditation became harder each day. A mental battle was being waged, harder than any battle or physical test he had ever endured. He felt as if he were in a pitch black room without a weapon being tortured by the shadows that snickered and sneered at his helplessness.

“What’s troubling you master?” the Samurai of the Owl, Kairi, asked. “Were my kata satisfactory?” Sweat glistened on Kairi’s petite delicate face. Her fair-skin was contrasted by her dark brunette hair in a messy pony-tail. The rest of her body was covered in the lacquered plates of her samurai armor and the gi underneath. The armor itself bore the owl sigil of her ancestors, the ancient samurai long extinct. Kairi’s naginata was slung over her right shoulder, the weapon she had chosen for herself. Ashitaka wondered how such a small girl could wield such a long spear-like weapon. But, all that mattered was that she was comfortable with it.

Coming back from his thoughts, Ashitaka looked over his students. They were all standing, waiting for him to say or do something. Then, his gaze shifted out over the landscape. The small hill and plains surrounding it were bathed in sunlight. The deep green accented by the light blue of the sky. Summer is so beautiful here, he thought.

A familiar feeling suddenly rushed over Ashitaka. He hadn’t felt it in some time which made it difficult to place for a few seconds. The sudden burst of agony, and the gasp from his students quickly reminded Ashitaka of what he was feeling. Physical pain. He slowly looked down to the last twelve inches of a blood soaked katana protruding from his chest. Quickly, Ashitaka’s instincts went into action assessing the situation. One known assailant. Professional. Ashitaka hadn’t heard or seen the assassin, and obviously neither had his students who stared at him in shock. His body told him the blade had gone through his heart and left lung. He would be hard pressed to fight in this condition.

A gruff voice from over Ashitaka’s shoulder stopped him from thinking, “I will finish what mother started. I will never be as weak willed as her or you. The Samurai must be removed no matter the cost. I am the chosen one, the one to complete the mission.”

Just a start. Enjoy.