The 6th Great Ninja War
Chapter XVII: The Story of a True Swordsman
(This is a very serious chapter, and I personally wish I had the time to do this with everyone's story, but Caliburn's seems to be the most impacting of all possible scenarios...Music Recommendation:
I am just a swordsman. My fate is the path of the swordsman. I walk by my spirit, the vision in my soul guided by my heart, which is guided by my instinct, my will.
A small child, green haired and frail, dressed in tattered tan shorts and a tan shirt with ripped sleeves, rushed through the dirty streets of market-town, Kirigakure. He was panting heavily, with fear, sweat dripping down his face. In his hand, he held tightly a small bag of grains and sunflower seeds. He tripped on a small brown rock, crashing roughly into the sandy ground and skidding face-first. The boy got up as quickly as he could and dragged himself to another small boy, slightly younger than him. From behind, a Kirigakure shinobi ran to the children and spotted the green haired boy. The man was old, about in his 30s. He was a bit portly as well. The green-haired boy hid behind the younger child as the Kirigakure shinobi put his hand out, as if trying to receive something.
Kirigakure Ninja: You little punk! Give me back my food.
The small child shielding the green-haired boy responded in the most childish voice…
Child: We din’t do nothin’!
The Kirigakure ninja pushed the child aside and pointed at the boy, who refused to hand over the bag. The elderly watched helplessly, refusing to speak out, afraid of what the results of this small dilemma could be. The Kirigakure ninja raised his fist and punched the boy to the ground, and the food fell out of his hands. An older man stepped forward and pointed his cane at the man.
Older Man: Shame on you!! Stealin’ from a poor lil’ young’in
Kirigakure Ninja: This is my meal! It’s been my first meal in days! Perhaps you may have forgotten, old man, but everyone’s suffering. The 5th Great Ninja War put a huge strain on all of us, and life’s a hundred times harder! Even for us Genin!
Older Man: That gives ya’ no reason to be goin’ around punchin’ little kids. He’s just a boy, no older than 4 maybe.
The Kirigakure shinobi frowned angrily and roared. He grabbed his bag of seeds and grains and stabbed a kunai into the ground next to the boy.
Kirigakure Ninja: Next time you THINK about doing that to me again, be ready to die, kid! These are tough times. The weak, like you, DIE!
???: You’re hardly one to talk for a mere Genin.
The Kirigakure ninja turned and saw a younger Hellsbadass, along with a team of four other Kirigakure ninja, including a young Kaito (in his early teenage years) and a slightly younger Izuna. Hellsbadass and his team were walking down the trail, on a serious mission.
Hellsbadass: Move along, you hooligan. All Mist Ninja have orders from the Mizukage to complete their assigned missions ASAP in order to receive word on the following crisis plans and strategies. You’re a shinobi! Starvation should not get the best of you!
Hellsbadass flicked the Genin man on his forehead painfully. The Mist Genin stood at attention. As the team passed, the green-haired boy caught glimpse of the young Kaito, who returned a blank look at him before looking ahead down the path, at which point, the sun was just rising. However, the dirty slum-like setting made the rising sun look less majestic and more like a dirty beckon of light, causing the setting to have an almost orange hue. The green haired boy crawled to the kunai in the ground and touched the circular end, immediately wincing away from it afterward. He started at it for hours, touching it again and then wincing back also every few minutes. He was, for the first time in his life, truly fascinated with this new item: a weapon.
FIVE YEARS LATER
The same green-haired boy had grown, now barely 9 years of age. His excitement could be perceived by the spark of youth in his expression, and his enthusiasm for life, how he ran freely and how he smiled with such intense thrill. One morning, he walked through the covers of a tent, into a room-sized hut. There, an old man was striking a black blade, on an anvil, with a hammer. The man didn’t look up when the boy entered and continued about his business as if nothing had happened.
Boy: Master! Today is my Academy Graduation exam!!
The old man carried on, not looking up or making any movements other than the task at hand which he was focusing on.
Old Man: So…you decided not to take my advice and drop out? Understandable…are you afraid?
The boy took a long pause.
Boy: ……………yes. I do not want to die. I know that with your training, I have become good for my age, but I don’t know what I’ll do if paired up against the top of our class.
Old Man: The shinobi of the Mist Village of savages, deviants, conniving, and selfish. In Kirigakure, one lives for oneself, and kills those who stand in our way. The fact that they have adopted the Bloody Mist traditions that once existed under Yagura the Terrifying only shows this greater. Promise me, child, that as a shinobi, you will not abandon my teachings and embrace your savage nature. Live a life of peace and do not make battles.
Boy: ………………but…there are so many things I want to do! So many people that deserve my vengeance.
Old Man: I see. My words are just advisory statements. Whether you adopt them or not is entirely up to you. Good luck…this may be the last time we meet, so I want you to know that I am very proud of you. I hope you’ll do what’s right.
Boy: *bows* Goodbye, master.
The boy ran off to the Academy, and luckily, he was the first to take the test. Unfortunately, he was paired up against one of the top class members. The boy fought with his silver short sword, but he missed each slash. The other child struck back with great hand-to-hand force that knocked the green-haired boy aside. The other child then punched him in the face ruthlessly. The green-haired boy got up and, with intensity and bloodlust in his eyes, tackled the fellow academy member to the ground, repeatedly stabbing him with his sword, letting blood out gruesomely. The green-haired boy got to the point that he simply tossed his sword aside, enraged by his bloodlust, and began beating the other boy to death with his fist. When he was finished, the other boy dead, the green-haired boy put his blood-covered fist down and stood. He did not glance at the other students, who were grim-stricken by the callousness of the boy, who, upon realizing his savagery, ran out of the academy to his master’s blacksmith workshop. He opened the flaps of the tent and approached his master, who seemed to have slept off on top of his sword, but something was off. The old man was drooling—no, he was bleeding. The young boy opened his eyes widely in shock, dismay, and disbelief. He moved his master’s body and watched as he scrunched his face at the pain, blood wiping across the surface of the table which the old man was working on.
Boy: Master!!!
Old Man: *grunts* I…can’t
Boy: Master! No! Don’t speak! I have to get help!
Old Man: It’s too late…for…me. Listen…take my swords…use them, and make amends…for us.
Boy: No! You’ll be alright!!! Don’t say that!!
The old man let out a brief chuckle, as if trying to catch his breath with his laugh.
Old Man: Foolish boy…………this was my pathetic life…I had no one in the beginning…*cough!*…………and only……my foolish apprentice……to…well…I just couldn’t watch……the suffering…any longer……now………maybe I’ll be free of that suffering…watching you…watching you *cough!* lose sight of my beliefs……………………was…unbearable………my old age…has made me weak in my endurance……I just couldn’t………forgive me…
The old man shut his eyes, still smiling, and relaxed himself, no longer exerting energy to speak. He collapsed on the floor, opening his right hand, in which a perfect, radiant silver dagger lay with the blood of the old man on it. The kanji on it read “Caliburn”. The boy was appalled. Believing he was the cause of this death, for his insolence and refusal to adhere to the good nature of his master’s words, he fell to the ground, crying. He hated the man, but it was his fault. Why did he do it? Now the boy had to bear this burden. His master had committed suicide.
SEVEN YEARS LATER
The boy, now about 16 years of age, continued down a straight path on a foggy morning, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. He had matured; the calmness in his eyes reassured this. His composure was absolute. He looked tough, possessing nine swords on his back, three on either side, and one in a sheathe on his waist. He approached a large gate, shielding an large settlement. Two guards stood at the ready on both sides of the gate. The boy grabbed three of his swords and held them while walking toward the gate. The guards tried to question him, but the boy attacked immediately, catching one guard off guard and slicing his throat. He then looked, with cold indifference, at the other guard, whom he rushed. The boy leaped over the other guard just as the guard drew a kunai, and when he landed to strike, the guard blocked it with his kunai. The boy parried the block and cut down the guard. The boy turned away from the guards and walked through the gate, observing his surroundings as he entered. It was like a dream, unlike anything he, who had traveled the world in the seven years since his master’s death, had ever seen. There were numerous beautiful Japanese gardens that practically wrote dozens of haikus for themselves by looks only. The scenery was highly natural, and the traditional Japanese housing and small temples seemed to blend in with the cherry blossom trees, bamboo trees, or the maples. In the background stood tall serene mountains. The boy walked across a bridge, leading to a large dojo by the side of a group of mountains.
The boy passed the dojo and saw, in front of him, a large, handsome looking house.
He ran to the front door, figuring that somebody important lived there. As soon as he knocked, the door opened. A young man, having radiant but slightly pale golden-yellow hair and gold-pigmented eyes, stood in the doorway He looked at the boy with dismay and then shook his head while smirking. He then sighed and shut the book he was reading: a bingo book.
Roku: So…you’re the one who killed the Gatekeepers? Foolish boy…don’t you know that it’s common knowledge not to kill others without motive. A simple “may I enter” would’ve sufficed.
The boy drew his sword to Roku’s neck immediately. Roku put his hand behind his back and ceased movement immediately after the blade was against his neck.
Roku: Hmph. What’s your name kid?
Boy: …………it’s Caliburn. I’m the greatest swordsman ever!
Roku: Caliburn? No…you are not the greatest swordsman, because if you were, you would have not said so with such penitence. As a humble guest, you must first “empty your cup”, as they say. Such anger in your heart, I can sense. Perhaps you need a new outlet, a new motivation for all of your trespasses and your actions up till now. Come with me and drink. I wish to discuss something with you.
Roku calmly walked away, but Caliburn angrily retaliated by pulling his sword back and then attempting to strike outward again. However, as he proceeded to do this, his blade split in half before his very eyes. He was shocked, unbelieving of this absurdity. He looked at Roku, who did not look back at him and carried on his way to the living area. Caliburn gave an untrusting look but followed anyway. He met up with Roku in a large living space by a small table with a pillow on either opposite side and sake and tea at each end of the tables.
A young boy, a few years older than Caliburn, was writing something down with utmost concentration while examining his ocarina and flute. He didn’t even look up as Caliburn passed.
Roku: That’s Emperor. He’s been studying under me for quite a while, learning several of my techniques. He may see him from time to time. He is one of my best students.
Caliburn: …
The two sat down and Roku took a sip of sake from his sake cup. Caliburn drank some tea.
Roku: Not old enough for sake yet, I see. *chuckles* Listen…why do you go around killing whomever you happen to encounter?
Caliburn: O_O Wait! How did you know…
Roku: I can see your whole history in your eyes…and in your Energy. There is hesitation with each kill. I was observing you the moment you passed near the settlement. When you battle, it is with cold intent, but in your heart, you feel something telling you that there is a better way than just senseless slaughter. So…what was it? You had a former master, I presume, as you’re quite good. But as for the rest, you had to teach yourself most of your life through countless ruthless slaughters and much practice alone. Your master’s philosophies wouldn’t happen to clash with your current actions, would they?
Caliburn: ………what do you know about ME?!?!
Roku: :| Relax…I was once like you, but I lived in the militaristic way of life. I had no parents growing up, and I had to survive on my own. When I became a Jounin, my reputation spread across the lands, making my name feared as one of the most merciless shinobi. I was cruel and caused suffering when my opponents died, but all in all, depending on the methodology, suffering was usually the best way to go for me, as it taught my opponent understanding and how to cope in the next life…so that they may truly appreciate it. But I didn’t understand that concept then. “The life is good”, one thinks at the time, but you realize that getting there, you lose yourself. The fame and fear is excellent. The respect is incredible, almost as if you can command others with a look. The pay was outrageous in those times filled with war, and the women flock around you like no other. Truly, it is a “fulfilling” life, right? Well, along my journeys, as I grew more and more, I began to realize that something was missing. Here I was, one of the strongest shinobi in the world, and I felt as if I was missing something…and that something was so trivial that one could not even fathom the amount of intense thinking involved to narrow that “something” down to a reasonable answer. Well, I cannot express the answer in words, but I decided that in order to find the “Truth”, I needed to leave. So I left Konohagakure and left behind everything I had. I battled with nature for what seemed like hundreds of years, struggling with things that one finds to be insignificant when compared to shinobi dangers. However, it was during that time that I discovered that the REAL dangers are not people, but the corrupting effect people have on the world. I braved storms and blizzards and unbearable conditions, and I can tell you from experience that it was more difficult than any S-rank mission that can be given. But over time, through suffering, one learns to cope, and they discover Truth. And in that Truth, one finds their true self and can thus save themselves from the dangers of their false-self. This is my legacy, the revelation of Truth which I wish to share with the world, so that people can understand each other. As Shinobi, we are burdened by an unending war, and somehow, people believed that through war, they could bring about peace. What an incredible lie I realized that was. One must live a life of peace, so that in the face of war, they are still avoiding it. Do you understand? O_O
Caliburn: Not at all…??
Roku: Good. I do not expect you to…yet. I will ask you a question that will change your life forever, that which results will be worth all the work or suffering necessary. Are you suffering?
Caliburn: ……………*sigh*…………yes.
Roku took a sip of sake.
Roku: Then become my student. I will end your suffering.
Caliburn: O_O
Emperor: *pokes head through the door*
Caliburn’s emotion stirred. He remembered his master, his childhood, his suffering, starvation, malnourishment, all the battles he had endured, and all the people he had killed, the blood he had shed. He remembered his master’s words loud and clear…about suffering. He simply could not stand anymore, and he broke into tears. He cried as loud as he could, releasing all of the thoughts, the emotions, the pain, and the suffering he had endured and experienced over the years of his young life. Roku put his hand on Caliburn’s head, causing Caliburn to look up. In Roku’s free hand was a sphere of white Energy…perfect white energy, so dense but so flexible and faultless and bright. Caliburn’s tears ceased and he glared into the sphere of Energy with great intent.
Roku: Like the tiniest ant caught within a droplet of water...everything is evident. All life is here, it exists, and thrives. Energies build up in life and matter...it is their nature. And it will become your nature. This small sphere will become your one beckon of hope to fix your life...
Caliburn: ………*blinks* I understand…
Roku: Caliburn, from this point onward, you are to be recognized just as you are…a swordsman.
A FEW YEARS LATER
Atop a mountain one very early morning, Caliburn held a very complex stance for hours. Roku stood at the edge, looking away from him off into the distance, at peace with himself.
Roku: You’ve come quite far, Caliburn. But in your training, can you dare to understand the height of enlightenment’s gift of Understanding itself?
Caliburn: I believe I cannot, but I will let the understanding guide its way through me.
Roku: Right answer. Now…understand this. Life is like a boat out at sea without a sail. At times, it is calm, but at times the ride is ferocious, and there are obstacles.
Caliburn: Storms and high waves will hinder you from approaching the true vision which you are unaware of. It will prevent you from seeing the Truth. You may strive to land at a convenient port, but you will learn that they lack what you need, a sail.
Roku: As you continue your journey, however, you learn to cope. And in time, you will build your own sail with your own power at your own inclination when the time is right. And though you may not always know where the wind will take you…
Caliburn: By letting nature be your guide, the spirit and the heart its vessel, you will come to a better place.
Roku smiled and turned to Caliburn, who relieved himself of his stance.
Roku: Exacta!
Caliburn bowed respectfully for a long time, his mind clear and peace filling his soul with serenity.
Caliburn: Thank you…for everything, Master.
My sorrows, my suffering, and my pain had ended, sealed away by the gates of fate. Should I let them out again, it shall be the last time I do so, for my spirit shall relinquish its existence forevermore. I am now, then, and forever will be just a swordsman.
END OF CHAPTER
Chapter XVII: The Story of a True Swordsman
(This is a very serious chapter, and I personally wish I had the time to do this with everyone's story, but Caliburn's seems to be the most impacting of all possible scenarios...Music Recommendation:
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^_^)I am just a swordsman. My fate is the path of the swordsman. I walk by my spirit, the vision in my soul guided by my heart, which is guided by my instinct, my will.
The Tale of Caliburn, the Valiant
A small child, green haired and frail, dressed in tattered tan shorts and a tan shirt with ripped sleeves, rushed through the dirty streets of market-town, Kirigakure. He was panting heavily, with fear, sweat dripping down his face. In his hand, he held tightly a small bag of grains and sunflower seeds. He tripped on a small brown rock, crashing roughly into the sandy ground and skidding face-first. The boy got up as quickly as he could and dragged himself to another small boy, slightly younger than him. From behind, a Kirigakure shinobi ran to the children and spotted the green haired boy. The man was old, about in his 30s. He was a bit portly as well. The green-haired boy hid behind the younger child as the Kirigakure shinobi put his hand out, as if trying to receive something.
Kirigakure Ninja: You little punk! Give me back my food.
The small child shielding the green-haired boy responded in the most childish voice…
Child: We din’t do nothin’!
The Kirigakure ninja pushed the child aside and pointed at the boy, who refused to hand over the bag. The elderly watched helplessly, refusing to speak out, afraid of what the results of this small dilemma could be. The Kirigakure ninja raised his fist and punched the boy to the ground, and the food fell out of his hands. An older man stepped forward and pointed his cane at the man.
Older Man: Shame on you!! Stealin’ from a poor lil’ young’in
Kirigakure Ninja: This is my meal! It’s been my first meal in days! Perhaps you may have forgotten, old man, but everyone’s suffering. The 5th Great Ninja War put a huge strain on all of us, and life’s a hundred times harder! Even for us Genin!
Older Man: That gives ya’ no reason to be goin’ around punchin’ little kids. He’s just a boy, no older than 4 maybe.
The Kirigakure shinobi frowned angrily and roared. He grabbed his bag of seeds and grains and stabbed a kunai into the ground next to the boy.
Kirigakure Ninja: Next time you THINK about doing that to me again, be ready to die, kid! These are tough times. The weak, like you, DIE!
???: You’re hardly one to talk for a mere Genin.
The Kirigakure ninja turned and saw a younger Hellsbadass, along with a team of four other Kirigakure ninja, including a young Kaito (in his early teenage years) and a slightly younger Izuna. Hellsbadass and his team were walking down the trail, on a serious mission.
Hellsbadass: Move along, you hooligan. All Mist Ninja have orders from the Mizukage to complete their assigned missions ASAP in order to receive word on the following crisis plans and strategies. You’re a shinobi! Starvation should not get the best of you!
Hellsbadass flicked the Genin man on his forehead painfully. The Mist Genin stood at attention. As the team passed, the green-haired boy caught glimpse of the young Kaito, who returned a blank look at him before looking ahead down the path, at which point, the sun was just rising. However, the dirty slum-like setting made the rising sun look less majestic and more like a dirty beckon of light, causing the setting to have an almost orange hue. The green haired boy crawled to the kunai in the ground and touched the circular end, immediately wincing away from it afterward. He started at it for hours, touching it again and then wincing back also every few minutes. He was, for the first time in his life, truly fascinated with this new item: a weapon.
FIVE YEARS LATER
The same green-haired boy had grown, now barely 9 years of age. His excitement could be perceived by the spark of youth in his expression, and his enthusiasm for life, how he ran freely and how he smiled with such intense thrill. One morning, he walked through the covers of a tent, into a room-sized hut. There, an old man was striking a black blade, on an anvil, with a hammer. The man didn’t look up when the boy entered and continued about his business as if nothing had happened.
Boy: Master! Today is my Academy Graduation exam!!
The old man carried on, not looking up or making any movements other than the task at hand which he was focusing on.
Old Man: So…you decided not to take my advice and drop out? Understandable…are you afraid?
The boy took a long pause.
Boy: ……………yes. I do not want to die. I know that with your training, I have become good for my age, but I don’t know what I’ll do if paired up against the top of our class.
Old Man: The shinobi of the Mist Village of savages, deviants, conniving, and selfish. In Kirigakure, one lives for oneself, and kills those who stand in our way. The fact that they have adopted the Bloody Mist traditions that once existed under Yagura the Terrifying only shows this greater. Promise me, child, that as a shinobi, you will not abandon my teachings and embrace your savage nature. Live a life of peace and do not make battles.
Boy: ………………but…there are so many things I want to do! So many people that deserve my vengeance.
Old Man: I see. My words are just advisory statements. Whether you adopt them or not is entirely up to you. Good luck…this may be the last time we meet, so I want you to know that I am very proud of you. I hope you’ll do what’s right.
Boy: *bows* Goodbye, master.
The boy ran off to the Academy, and luckily, he was the first to take the test. Unfortunately, he was paired up against one of the top class members. The boy fought with his silver short sword, but he missed each slash. The other child struck back with great hand-to-hand force that knocked the green-haired boy aside. The other child then punched him in the face ruthlessly. The green-haired boy got up and, with intensity and bloodlust in his eyes, tackled the fellow academy member to the ground, repeatedly stabbing him with his sword, letting blood out gruesomely. The green-haired boy got to the point that he simply tossed his sword aside, enraged by his bloodlust, and began beating the other boy to death with his fist. When he was finished, the other boy dead, the green-haired boy put his blood-covered fist down and stood. He did not glance at the other students, who were grim-stricken by the callousness of the boy, who, upon realizing his savagery, ran out of the academy to his master’s blacksmith workshop. He opened the flaps of the tent and approached his master, who seemed to have slept off on top of his sword, but something was off. The old man was drooling—no, he was bleeding. The young boy opened his eyes widely in shock, dismay, and disbelief. He moved his master’s body and watched as he scrunched his face at the pain, blood wiping across the surface of the table which the old man was working on.
Boy: Master!!!
Old Man: *grunts* I…can’t
Boy: Master! No! Don’t speak! I have to get help!
Old Man: It’s too late…for…me. Listen…take my swords…use them, and make amends…for us.
Boy: No! You’ll be alright!!! Don’t say that!!
The old man let out a brief chuckle, as if trying to catch his breath with his laugh.
Old Man: Foolish boy…………this was my pathetic life…I had no one in the beginning…*cough!*…………and only……my foolish apprentice……to…well…I just couldn’t watch……the suffering…any longer……now………maybe I’ll be free of that suffering…watching you…watching you *cough!* lose sight of my beliefs……………………was…unbearable………my old age…has made me weak in my endurance……I just couldn’t………forgive me…
The old man shut his eyes, still smiling, and relaxed himself, no longer exerting energy to speak. He collapsed on the floor, opening his right hand, in which a perfect, radiant silver dagger lay with the blood of the old man on it. The kanji on it read “Caliburn”. The boy was appalled. Believing he was the cause of this death, for his insolence and refusal to adhere to the good nature of his master’s words, he fell to the ground, crying. He hated the man, but it was his fault. Why did he do it? Now the boy had to bear this burden. His master had committed suicide.
SEVEN YEARS LATER
The boy, now about 16 years of age, continued down a straight path on a foggy morning, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. He had matured; the calmness in his eyes reassured this. His composure was absolute. He looked tough, possessing nine swords on his back, three on either side, and one in a sheathe on his waist. He approached a large gate, shielding an large settlement. Two guards stood at the ready on both sides of the gate. The boy grabbed three of his swords and held them while walking toward the gate. The guards tried to question him, but the boy attacked immediately, catching one guard off guard and slicing his throat. He then looked, with cold indifference, at the other guard, whom he rushed. The boy leaped over the other guard just as the guard drew a kunai, and when he landed to strike, the guard blocked it with his kunai. The boy parried the block and cut down the guard. The boy turned away from the guards and walked through the gate, observing his surroundings as he entered. It was like a dream, unlike anything he, who had traveled the world in the seven years since his master’s death, had ever seen. There were numerous beautiful Japanese gardens that practically wrote dozens of haikus for themselves by looks only. The scenery was highly natural, and the traditional Japanese housing and small temples seemed to blend in with the cherry blossom trees, bamboo trees, or the maples. In the background stood tall serene mountains. The boy walked across a bridge, leading to a large dojo by the side of a group of mountains.
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The boy passed the dojo and saw, in front of him, a large, handsome looking house.
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Roku: So…you’re the one who killed the Gatekeepers? Foolish boy…don’t you know that it’s common knowledge not to kill others without motive. A simple “may I enter” would’ve sufficed.
The boy drew his sword to Roku’s neck immediately. Roku put his hand behind his back and ceased movement immediately after the blade was against his neck.
Roku: Hmph. What’s your name kid?
Boy: …………it’s Caliburn. I’m the greatest swordsman ever!
Roku: Caliburn? No…you are not the greatest swordsman, because if you were, you would have not said so with such penitence. As a humble guest, you must first “empty your cup”, as they say. Such anger in your heart, I can sense. Perhaps you need a new outlet, a new motivation for all of your trespasses and your actions up till now. Come with me and drink. I wish to discuss something with you.
Roku calmly walked away, but Caliburn angrily retaliated by pulling his sword back and then attempting to strike outward again. However, as he proceeded to do this, his blade split in half before his very eyes. He was shocked, unbelieving of this absurdity. He looked at Roku, who did not look back at him and carried on his way to the living area. Caliburn gave an untrusting look but followed anyway. He met up with Roku in a large living space by a small table with a pillow on either opposite side and sake and tea at each end of the tables.
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A young boy, a few years older than Caliburn, was writing something down with utmost concentration while examining his ocarina and flute. He didn’t even look up as Caliburn passed.
Roku: That’s Emperor. He’s been studying under me for quite a while, learning several of my techniques. He may see him from time to time. He is one of my best students.
Caliburn: …
The two sat down and Roku took a sip of sake from his sake cup. Caliburn drank some tea.
Roku: Not old enough for sake yet, I see. *chuckles* Listen…why do you go around killing whomever you happen to encounter?
Caliburn: O_O Wait! How did you know…
Roku: I can see your whole history in your eyes…and in your Energy. There is hesitation with each kill. I was observing you the moment you passed near the settlement. When you battle, it is with cold intent, but in your heart, you feel something telling you that there is a better way than just senseless slaughter. So…what was it? You had a former master, I presume, as you’re quite good. But as for the rest, you had to teach yourself most of your life through countless ruthless slaughters and much practice alone. Your master’s philosophies wouldn’t happen to clash with your current actions, would they?
Caliburn: ………what do you know about ME?!?!
Roku: :| Relax…I was once like you, but I lived in the militaristic way of life. I had no parents growing up, and I had to survive on my own. When I became a Jounin, my reputation spread across the lands, making my name feared as one of the most merciless shinobi. I was cruel and caused suffering when my opponents died, but all in all, depending on the methodology, suffering was usually the best way to go for me, as it taught my opponent understanding and how to cope in the next life…so that they may truly appreciate it. But I didn’t understand that concept then. “The life is good”, one thinks at the time, but you realize that getting there, you lose yourself. The fame and fear is excellent. The respect is incredible, almost as if you can command others with a look. The pay was outrageous in those times filled with war, and the women flock around you like no other. Truly, it is a “fulfilling” life, right? Well, along my journeys, as I grew more and more, I began to realize that something was missing. Here I was, one of the strongest shinobi in the world, and I felt as if I was missing something…and that something was so trivial that one could not even fathom the amount of intense thinking involved to narrow that “something” down to a reasonable answer. Well, I cannot express the answer in words, but I decided that in order to find the “Truth”, I needed to leave. So I left Konohagakure and left behind everything I had. I battled with nature for what seemed like hundreds of years, struggling with things that one finds to be insignificant when compared to shinobi dangers. However, it was during that time that I discovered that the REAL dangers are not people, but the corrupting effect people have on the world. I braved storms and blizzards and unbearable conditions, and I can tell you from experience that it was more difficult than any S-rank mission that can be given. But over time, through suffering, one learns to cope, and they discover Truth. And in that Truth, one finds their true self and can thus save themselves from the dangers of their false-self. This is my legacy, the revelation of Truth which I wish to share with the world, so that people can understand each other. As Shinobi, we are burdened by an unending war, and somehow, people believed that through war, they could bring about peace. What an incredible lie I realized that was. One must live a life of peace, so that in the face of war, they are still avoiding it. Do you understand? O_O
Caliburn: Not at all…??
Roku: Good. I do not expect you to…yet. I will ask you a question that will change your life forever, that which results will be worth all the work or suffering necessary. Are you suffering?
Caliburn: ……………*sigh*…………yes.
Roku took a sip of sake.
Roku: Then become my student. I will end your suffering.
Caliburn: O_O
Emperor: *pokes head through the door*
Caliburn’s emotion stirred. He remembered his master, his childhood, his suffering, starvation, malnourishment, all the battles he had endured, and all the people he had killed, the blood he had shed. He remembered his master’s words loud and clear…about suffering. He simply could not stand anymore, and he broke into tears. He cried as loud as he could, releasing all of the thoughts, the emotions, the pain, and the suffering he had endured and experienced over the years of his young life. Roku put his hand on Caliburn’s head, causing Caliburn to look up. In Roku’s free hand was a sphere of white Energy…perfect white energy, so dense but so flexible and faultless and bright. Caliburn’s tears ceased and he glared into the sphere of Energy with great intent.
Roku: Like the tiniest ant caught within a droplet of water...everything is evident. All life is here, it exists, and thrives. Energies build up in life and matter...it is their nature. And it will become your nature. This small sphere will become your one beckon of hope to fix your life...
Caliburn: ………*blinks* I understand…
Roku: Caliburn, from this point onward, you are to be recognized just as you are…a swordsman.
A FEW YEARS LATER
Atop a mountain one very early morning, Caliburn held a very complex stance for hours. Roku stood at the edge, looking away from him off into the distance, at peace with himself.
Roku: You’ve come quite far, Caliburn. But in your training, can you dare to understand the height of enlightenment’s gift of Understanding itself?
Caliburn: I believe I cannot, but I will let the understanding guide its way through me.
Roku: Right answer. Now…understand this. Life is like a boat out at sea without a sail. At times, it is calm, but at times the ride is ferocious, and there are obstacles.
Caliburn: Storms and high waves will hinder you from approaching the true vision which you are unaware of. It will prevent you from seeing the Truth. You may strive to land at a convenient port, but you will learn that they lack what you need, a sail.
Roku: As you continue your journey, however, you learn to cope. And in time, you will build your own sail with your own power at your own inclination when the time is right. And though you may not always know where the wind will take you…
Caliburn: By letting nature be your guide, the spirit and the heart its vessel, you will come to a better place.
Roku smiled and turned to Caliburn, who relieved himself of his stance.
Roku: Exacta!
Caliburn bowed respectfully for a long time, his mind clear and peace filling his soul with serenity.
Caliburn: Thank you…for everything, Master.
My sorrows, my suffering, and my pain had ended, sealed away by the gates of fate. Should I let them out again, it shall be the last time I do so, for my spirit shall relinquish its existence forevermore. I am now, then, and forever will be just a swordsman.
~Caliburn
END OF CHAPTER
