Of Spirit and Blood
19 August 2005
by Dennis Holliday

Once more Kitsuki Shaiyan was sitting on the cliffside meditating. The past few days seemed almost dreamlike. First the stolen kisses while walking along the cliff tops. Then the almost childlike frivolity during the "hunt." The time spent with the young Fox shugenja were some of the happiest times he had experienced since the death of his father and brothers.

The memory of their deaths sends a sharp pain through his heart, disturbing the calm of his thoughts. His meditations ruined, he stands and begins the walk back to the guest house. Flashes of the terror stricken faces of the bodiless heads surface from the depths of his mind, followed by the cries of grief his mother let loose when she thought him asleep.

"No one should have to see their husbands and sons return in such a manner," he thinks to himself. "I should have been with them and perhaps my 'gifts,'" he twists the word sarcastically in his thoughts, "would have been the deciding factor in our favor, but instead I was training in Isawa castle." His face contorts with rage only to smooth back to the mask he usually wears. As he continues his walk across the fields, a familiar presence appears to him.

"I see your young friend isn't with you tonight. Does this mean you are ready to return to your task and end this foolishness?"

"It is good to see you again honorable father," comes his reply, "I have not forgotten the debt of honor that is owed to you."

"I should hope that you have not, but I was beginning to wonder if your loins had not overcome you," comes the acdic rebuttal.

With a sigh he grips the handle of his father's katana with determination, and pulls the blade from the sheath. It is time to put away thoughts of his own happiness and remember the burden he bears. Drawing the blade across his palm he swears to himself and his father's spirit, "the next blood that wets this blade will be that of the Maho-Tsukai that killed you."

"See that it is," and without another word the spirit fades from view. Shaiyan takes a moment to bind the wound on his hand, and thinks back on the championship.

"If only I had won in the shugenja duel, perhaps the prize of a spell would guarantee victory against my foe," he thought with regret. "But there is still a chance. Perhaps in Otosan Uchi I will find something to turn the tide against the bloodspeaker. Maybe some good will come of this trip." And with that final thought, he strode back to the guest house.