Night settled gently over Ravenshire.
The forge fires had gone out hours ago, leaving the scent of coal and steel drifting through the village like a memory. Crickets hummed outside the window, and the lantern in the corner of Corwin and Elara's small home flickered softly against the wooden walls.
Inside, the couple sat together at a low table. Half-finished papers lay scattered—lesson plans for tomorrow's training with the village youths. Elara stretched her arms, letting out a long sigh.
"You know," she began, "these kids learn faster every week. Ryn's already got Soru down."
Corwin smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "He reminds me of Hunnt when he was that age—too curious for his own good."
Elara chuckled, then grew quiet for a moment. Her eyes wandered to the old book sitting on a nearby shelf—the one wrapped in leather and sealed with a faint emblem of a black circle and triangle.
"Corwin," she said suddenly.
He looked up. "Hm?"
"When are you going to teach me the other Rokushiki forms?"
He blinked. "What?"
"The other techniques," she said, leaning forward. "You always talk about Soru, Tekkai, and Kami-e, but there are six in total, aren't there? You said there were others you never showed me."
Corwin froze halfway through setting down his cup of tea. "Ah… that."
Elara tilted her head. "Don't tell me you forgot."
"I didn't forget," he said quickly, though his voice lacked conviction. His gaze shifted toward her, and for a heartbeat he forgot about the question entirely.
The firelight painted her face in warm tones—eyes glimmering like amber, lips curled in a faint pout. He swallowed, cheeks warming.
"Corwin," she said, noticing his stare.
He didn't answer fast enough.
"Corwin!"
He jumped slightly. "What—what is it?"
"Focus!" she said, pouting harder now, though her own face reddened.
He coughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Right, right. The Rokushiki. Of course."
Standing, he walked to the shelf and pulled down the old book—the one Hunnt had left behind. The cover was worn smooth from years of handling, but the title etched on it still gleamed faintly: One Piece.
He sat beside her again, untying the thin cord around it. When he opened the first page, the smell of old parchment and ink filled the room.
"Well," he murmured, "let's see what our friend wrote for us."
The first section was filled with familiar lines—Hunnt's sharp, neat handwriting, small diagrams of stances and motion. But as they flipped further, new pages revealed themselves, written in darker ink, the letters thicker and bolder.
Corwin read aloud, tracing the words with a calloused finger.
"The techniques of Rokushiki…" he began. "All six."
Elara leaned close, eyes bright.
Corwin cleared his throat and continued:
---
1. Soru (Shave)
Ability: Super-speed movement. The user moves so fast it appears as if they are thunder.
Use: For dodging attacks or closing the distance quickly.
---
2. Tekkai (Iron Body)
Ability: Hardens the user's muscles like iron.
Use: Makes the body almost invulnerable to physical attacks, though the user cannot move freely while activated.
---
3. Geppo (Skywalk)
Ability: Allows the user to jump off the air itself—essentially walking on air.
Use: Mobility in midair; often combined with Soru for aerial attacks.
---
4. Shigan (Finger Pistol)
Ability: The user stabs their finger like a cannon, striking with piercing force.
Use: A highly lethal close-range attack.
---
5. Rankyaku (Storm Leg)
Ability: A powerful kick that creates cutting air blades.
Use: Can slice enemies or obstacles from a distance. Against monsters with thick hides, precision is vital.
---
6. Kami-e (Feather Art)
Ability: Makes the user's body extremely flexible and light, like a feather.
Use: Evade attacks easily, especially from bladed weapons.
---
Corwin paused, glancing at his wife. "There you have it—the complete six."
Elara's eyes widened. "So Geppo lets you literally walk on air? That's insane."
"And Shigan…" Corwin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I remember Hunnt once joked it could poke a hole through a wyvern's scale if your focus didn't waver."
Elara leaned back, amazed. "These are weirder and more astonishing than I expected. It's like a dance between speed, strength, and… imagination."
Corwin smiled, flipping the page. "Hunnt used to say Rokushiki isn't just movement—it's the body's conversation with the world."
She raised an eyebrow. "He really said that?"
"He did." Corwin's tone softened. "He believed anyone could learn the steps if they listened long enough."
They sat quietly for a while, the lantern crackling. Outside, wind brushed against the window shutters.
Finally, Elara spoke again. "So… will you teach me?"
Corwin looked at her, laughter tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Not when it comes to this."
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "You already know the first three. The rest require more stamina and… balance. You'll have to train your core and breath every morning."
Elara smirked. "You mean you'll have to wake up earlier too, dear husband."
He groaned dramatically. "I regret opening the book."
She laughed, leaning against his shoulder. "Too late now."
They sat together like that for a long time, flipping through Hunnt's careful notes — diagrams of midair kicks, sketches of motion trails, arrows showing breath control.
Corwin whispered, almost to himself, "I still remember the day he showed me Soru. He vanished and reappeared behind me before I could blink."
Elara smiled softly. "And you jumped like a startled cat, didn't you?"
He sighed. "Yes… and now you'll remind me forever."
"Maybe."
The two of them laughed quietly, the warmth of the forge's dying embers blending with the warmth in their voices.
When they reached the final page, Hunnt's handwriting grew small and calm:
"Combine techniques only when intent is clear. The body will obey the mind, and the world will follow the body."
Corwin closed the book gently. "That was his way of saying: Don't swing wildly."
Elara nodded. "I'll remember that."
She rose, stretching. "Tomorrow, we start training. I'll learn Geppo first."
Corwin blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"Of course." She smiled at him. "You're my teacher, aren't you?"
He sighed, shaking his head with mock defeat. "I married a storm."
She kissed his cheek. "And you love it."
He chuckled. "That's the problem."
The lantern dimmed, the fire outside crackled low. The night in Ravenshire was calm again. Inside the small house, laughter lingered — the laughter of two who carried Hunnt's legacy not as burden, but as life shared together.
Outside, the wind shifted softly, carrying the faint scent of ash and forge smoke through the village — and somewhere far beyond, across mountains and mist, a Wanderer smiled, knowing the next generation had already begun to move.