"Huh," the soldier snorted. "Khur."
Nishida, one of Taro's closest friends, glanced away from where he was sparring with the blond-haired boy himself.
"Keep your dirty comments to yourself," he hissed, lunging towards Taro with a gesture that made their friendship suddenly look fragile.
Taro deflected it, twisting his friend's thin steel sword with his own for a moment before he sprang back a step, giving Nishida time to recover. The other, dark-haired boy panted for breath, his mask slipping down his face.
"Stop playing nice," he scowled.
Taro bit his lip underneath his own mask. "I mean, these are real swords–"
"An enemy in battle won't give you recovery time!" Nishida started forward, swinging the light sword ahead of him in a flurry of steel. The soldier observer's mouth dropped open as he watched.
Taro stepped up to meet the blows, his own sword shattering the late morning, post-rainfall sunlight as he deflected Nishida's blows with something very much like ease.
Sweat slipped down his forehead as Nishida pressed harder. Taro flicked his blade to the left as Nishida disengaged and took a new lunge.
Gritting his teeth, Taro ignored the shimmering pain in his wrist as he knocked Nishida's steel away from his forearm. Then Taro brought his sword up and around, nearly missing Nishida's shoulder.
The older boy jumped back, his eyes wide. Taro allowed himself to relax for an instant.
Then Nishida struck out again. Taro caught his breath as he swung into action. Crimson stained his hand.
"Why don't you two use your shields?" the soldier called from a safe distance.
"Huh," Taro gasped out.
Shield. He never remembered.
Now he grabbed at it, his hand shaking as the piece of armor ricocheted away from Nishida's blade.
Grimacing, Taro dashed forward, his boots digging into the dirt of the fortress courtyard. His blade flew again. And again.
And Nishida's sword clattered onto his shield a moment later as both fell to the ground.
Nishida stepped back, panting, as Taro slid his sword into its sheath and doubled over, gasping for breath. The two boys stood there for a few seconds, while the soldier snorted one last time and headed into the fortress.
Finally Nishida looked up.
"You beat me again," he wheezed. "You always do."
Taro half-laughed as he wiped the blood from his hand and wrapped his other hand tightly around the wound. It wasn't deep, but his mother would still want to look at it later.
"Taro, why don't you request initiation?" Nishida stepped forward, shaking his head. "I've been a rashei for a month now, but I'm only two weeks older than you are."
Taro bit his lip, pulling off his mask and using it to wipe his face.
"I don't want to, Nishida," he said finally. "I've been telling you that for months."
"You could become a valoren if you tried." Nishida scowled. "But you're stubborn. Just like any Karunic."
The blond-haired boy grinned slightly. "Is that so?"
Nishida exhaled in loud disgust.
"Fine," he muttered. "But you'd better get your own sword, anyway. Roka and I want to go hunting with you in three days."
Taro's eyebrows shot up as he reached for the jug of water on the ground.
"Oh?"
He poured some onto his hands, washing away the blood before he wiped his face. The water felt good. Though it had already rained for a bit earlier.
"Yeah." Nishida looked up at the younger boy who was somehow taller than he was. "To celebrate Roka's initiation."
Taro's face erupted in laughter.
"You two just want to make me feel bad, don't you," he bit out–then broke off, wincing.
Nishida's face darkened as he slapped his friend's shoulder.
"You've got to keep up with the times, man! Just because you're Karunic doesn't mean you can't be a sanctioned warrior. You know that."
Taro took a step back, away from his friend's hand.
"Just because I can be one doesn't mean I have to," he returned steadily.
"Whatever." Nishida rolled his eyes. "You'll still come hunting with us, won't you?"
Taro hesitated, so Nishida went on before he could answer.
"We're going to court in a week." His volume dropped. "We've been hoping to have one last good time with you before we go."
Taro's mouth dropped open.
"You're…going to…"
Nishida's face softened.
"Yeah."
Taro stared at him, his wounded hand forgotten.
"I'll go with you," he whispered.
Nishida managed a smile. "With a sword?"
The younger boy nodded slowly.
"With a sword."
~~~
On any normal day, Kishi was friends with the forest.
Today the two seemed to be mortal enemies.
Every muscle in her body screamed for attention. But Kishi's anger screamed louder as she fought an unlucky trunk, both her blades whirring like a dragon's wings.
Anger?
She didn't know why she was angry.
Perhaps because the tree couldn't fight back.
Now she slashed again, her swords moving in parallel motion before they crisscrossed, nearly missing each other. Another branch fell. Kishi jumped out of its way.
"Up–and–around," she gasped to herself, slicing it in half again as it fell through the air.
Suddenly she sat down hard on the still-wet ground, her lungs dragging in air. Her blades, she rested gently on the dirt, which was all torn up by her boots. Gently, as if she hadn't just been using the steel to chop eventual firewood.
Kishi leaned back, her breath beginning to come more easily. She looked at her arms and shook her head. They shouldn't be hurting this badly.
Slowly she picked up one of the twin blades and hefted it, glancing at her reflection for a moment.
Her masked face was covered in grimy dirt. She'd have to wash up later.
The blade was heavy. Of course it was. It had always been.
This one was named Musume. The other's name was Musuko. Her father had named everything–even the shield he had never used.
Kishi's mouth softened into something like a smile. She was pretty sure it was Musume she had first been allowed to hold.
"Someday you'll use it," her dad had promised her. When she was five.
Her own training sword–a decent weapon by any warrior's standards–had paled in comparison to her father's blade.
"Really?" Kishi's eyes had been wide.
He had nodded, his face bright. "When you're big enough."
Kishi bit her lip now.
She was big enough, but…
She had had to finish her own training.
Abruptly, Kishi stood up again, her hands wrapping tightly around the hilts.
She had gotten in a workout.
Now…
It was time to work on technique.
"Your blades are your shield," her father had told her.
He had been the only man in all of Karun and Hoshara who could live that mantra.
Now Kishi was pretty sure she was ready to follow his example–to the hilts.
Still…
She couldn't be sure, not when her only duels were with trees.
Kishi sidestepped in an imaginary circle around an imaginary opponent.
But the opponent had a face.
She had never seen the man, but she could guess what he looked like.
The man who had ordered her father to be shot down with arrows.
Valoren Tadashi.
Kishi lunged at the air, her strength redoubled as she returned the nonexistent opponent's feints and blows.
Someday, she told herself.
Someday I will beat him.
~~~
It was Nishida's turn to return the weapons to the armory, so Taro bid him farewell and headed into the stables.
He didn't know what it was about the blacksmith's horse that attracted him, but… Taro simply loved the white mare with the near-golden mane.
Now he brushed her down slowly. She nickered in appreciation, nuzzling him with her head.
"I wonder if I can take you hunting," Taro murmured thoughtfully to her.
She snorted in agreement.
Or at least, Taro decided it was agreement. He laughed and ran his fingers through her mane.
"I'll ask Dad," he promised, jumping back as she tried to lick his face.
"Hey!"
Her eyes laughed at him. Then looked past.
Taro twisted his head around to meet the gaze of the young man who had just entered the stall.
The older boy stared back. His hair was blond, too, though darker than Taro's.
"...Hello," Taro said finally.
"Sorry. I didn't realize someone else was here." The boy bit his lip. "Um…"
"Do you like horses?" Taro asked.
The young man's eyes lit up.
"I do," he admitted. "May I–"
"Yeah." Taro shrugged, standing aside as he took in the Hosharan emblem on the obviously Karunic boy's tunic. "My name's Taro," he added after a moment.
"Arai," the boy returned, touching the horse's mane gently.
She squealed at him, and he jerked his hand away.
"You're Taro Zayasu, aren't you?" Arai asked, keeping his eyes on the horse as he reached forward tentatively. The mare, Hanae, eyed him dangerously.
Taro bit his lip as he watched the interaction. "Yeah," he replied slowly. "And you…"
"Arai Junzo." Arai turned to Taro and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. I've…I've heard about you," he stammered awkwardly.
Taro blinked.
"Nice to meet you, too," he murmured a moment later.
Arai smiled weakly, then took a step back towards the entrance of the stable.
"I guess…I guess she doesn't like me," he observed. "Um… I'll see you around, Taro!"
Eyes wide, Taro watched him go. Hanae swished her tail around his ankles, and he jumped.
"Oh. Oh." Taro caught his breath.
He hung the brush on a wall peg.
"I'll see you later, Hanae," he promised as he dashed out the stall gate and slammed it shut behind him.
Hanae snickered in protest, but the boy was gone.