The First Lesson
 
by Loren Dean

The shrine was a plain, unimpressive thing, and Ishi wondered if he were in the right place. It was a simple statue, with upturned hands holding a bowl for incense, and the remains of decayed prayer scrolls at its feet. The plain was deserted in every direction. At least there was a breeze.

Ishi settled in to wait, sitting in the sparse shade provided by the statue of... whatever fortune this was. "Fusaki," the monks had told him. "He may be able to help you. Seek him by the shrine of Yayoie to the north."

So here he was. Alone. Ishi spit reflexively in disapproval.

"An unclean habit," came the voice. Ishi leapt to his feet, taking a defensive stance he had seen used by the monks at the Temple of Thunder. He almost laughed when he saw the old man.

Short and thin — almost emaciated — the man was wrinkled like one of the shou-pei dogs the Unicorn clan raised, and was tanned deeply, as only one who lived on the road could become. The man still had hair, but it was white and fine, tousled by the breeze. His gnarled hand gripped a short staff, and he leaned on it, eying Ishi, one eye open more than the other, a slight smile twitching on his lips.

Ishi straightened. He knew better than to be overconfident with strangers, but also knew it could never hurt to try and be polite.

"I am Ishi," he said, trailing off expectantly.

"But who are you?" replied the old man. Ishi blinked.

"I just told you."

"You told me your name. What is a name? Who are you?" The old man scratched at the back of his head with his free hand.

Ishi thought for a moment. Was this Fusaki? He had a wise point, and Ishi knew he should respond, but how should one respond to a question like that?

"I am a seeker of knowledge and wisdom," he replied at last. That sounded good.

"I can give you neither."

Ishi started to feel the anger, and hoped it didn't show in his voice. "I am looking for a man. A shugenja. Fusaki. Are you the man I seek?"

"Only you can say."

Ishi made a dismissing noise and sat down by the fortune-statue again. The man approached and crouched beside Ishi.

"If you expect to take lessons from anything you experience, you must be more patient. And more focused," he said quietly.

"And you are the one who will teach me? With word games and foolishness?"

"I teach no one," said the old man, serious now.

"Then you are useless to me," Ishi folded his arms and looked away pointedly.

"Ah," said the man. Ishi could see the man nodding at the edge of his vision. "You do take lessons after all."

Ishi turned slowly to face the man. "Are you finished?"

The man smiled. "If you say so."

Ishi rolled his eyes and growled. "Begone, Oni devil! Get away from me with your twisting and your words!"

The man was still, crouching and smiling. Ishi could stand this no longer, and reached out to grab the man. His hand stopped an inch from the man's shoulder, frozen in the air. Ishi's eyes widened as he struggled to move his hand. Without taking his eyes from Ishi, the man smiled again.

"Let that be your first lesson," said the man. "Never believe you know all that is happening. A shugenja who knows all will walk off a cliff. Shall we continue?"

"Fusaki?" asked Ishi.

The man nodded, still smiling.