Post by Princess Yoshi Shimakaze on Apr 1, 2012 13:19:05 GMT -5
*As told by an interpreter for House Shimakaze*
The Lady Yoshi Shimakaze returned home from her third lesson in the art of the Tea Ceremony given by the Lady Mizuki. The lessons were held in the embassy rooms set aside for such purposes. Besides, that is where any formal presentation of the Tea Ceremony would be held in the future so it made sense to take her lessons there. Yoshi had done well although she struggled a bit with the order in which one presents and then cleans the tea bowls. That and the correct folding of the cloth with which one wipes the bowl. She could snap the cloth perfectly and replace it in the waist of her Obi almost like a master, but until she mastered the fold, she could not move on.
Her thoughts were on this matter as she strolled the short distance from the embassy to her home. Accompanied by two fierce looking retainers and several servants, she took her time since the weather was mild for this time of year. Approaching home she paused to study the architecture of a neighboring house. She concluded that it had been an attempt by the owner to emulate the Tokuno style, and that they had failed miserably. She stood there frowning at the upper floors and, although she was not an architect, decided that the owner was a “gungi” with little taste or artistic sensibilities and thus could be dismissed out of hand.
“Perhaps,” she mused, “I will send a retainer to burn it down some night as it offends the eye.”
She thought the better of it since, although it would have been perfectly within her right to do so at home in Tokuno, there were different laws regarding such things here and she did not wish to place her father in the uncomfortable position of having to explaining to the town leaders exactly why his daughter would do such a thing. Instead she simply spit on the ground in front of the house and dismissed it from her mind.
Arriving home she immediately went to the small altar in the garden and offered incense and prayers to her ancestors. As the scent of Lilacs drifted on the air Yoshi vowed that she would never again forget to pay them homage and risk loosing something as valuable as her swords again. The fact that the swords were returned at all was a sign that her ancestors were watching over her. What puzzled her most, however, was how the leader of this city, Lady Severn, factored into the mystery. Somehow this strange woman played a pivotal role in the fate of the swords and thus became wound into the fabric of Yoshi’s fate as well. Her thoughts on this subject were interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing somewhere in the house. Standing up Yoshi bowed once more to the altar and hurried downstairs for the mid-day meal with her father.
Over tea and miso soup she and her father Ikrua discussed the family business and debated the advantages of various horses and what weapons might be put to use while riding each of the several breeds. Ikura told an off color joke about a ronin and a stubborn horse and the house echoed with laughter for the first time in many months. Even the servants sitting against the far wall smiled. Perhaps living here might not be as terrible as Yoshi had anticipated. It was then that the subject turned to the most recent gift from the Lady Severn.
Yoshi cleared her throat gently. “Father?” She started the question in her native Tokunoese but Ikrua instructed her to speak in the ‘common’ tongue. “For practice.” He stated as he watched a servant pour hot tea into his tea-bowl.
Yoshi still struggled with many of the words and often had difficulty constructing a sentence as the common tongue felt heavy on her lips and sounded like a hammer striking wood, but she obeyed.
“Father,” she began again, “This woman Daimyo,” she instantly corrected herself, “I mean l e a d e r,” she said the word one letter at a time, “of this city. This Lady Severn. Do you trust her?”
Ikura glanced at his daughter as he lifted his tea-bowl with two hands, paused and then said.
“Daughter, thus far she has brought only honor and respect as her gifts. The return of your swords was a remarkable twist of fate and should be accepted as such. To do otherwise would cause you loss of face and,” he added after taking a sip, “perhaps a loss of a new friend as well?”
Yoshi titled her head and bowed.
“Yes, father. You are correct but it is not the swords of which I speak. It is this new gift. The one of armor.” She frowned and asked the next question as if thinking it aloud.
“Why would she make such a set of armor as a gift when none was required?”
It was apparent to Ikrua that his daughter had struggled with this question for some time and was baffled by it. So he attempted to explain the custom of gift giving and the western holiday of “Christmas.” Yoshi listened intently as her father spoke of the various practices of the west and the holidays they considered important. He compared them to the Spring Rituals and Snow Rituals of their homeland. Making the comparison helped Yoshi better understand why a stranger would present such a gift to another stranger. As he expected, Yoshi arrived at the conclusion he had hoped for; she must give a gift in return as was the custom.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief Ikrua sat back satisfied he was one step closer to getting the finest “son” a father could have. The meal being concluded Ikura suggested that his daughter travel to the city of Luna to find an appropriate gift for the Lady Severn. The servants cleared the table and began washing the bowls while Ikrua’s retainers ran to gather the horses for Lord Shimakaze had an appointment in the City of Trinsic and must leave immediately. Yoshi walked her father out and watched as the small party rode off toward the northern Moongate. Once they were out of sight she ordered the house searched for hidden spies or assassins for she was not yet as convinced as her father was even though she trusted his judgment. Being under the watchful eye of the Shogun, who Yoshi despised, one needed to always be vigilant and even more so with strangers. Yoshi had made it a daily practice for the house and surrounding grounds to be searched for spies and possible assassins. Her grandfather and great-grandfather were both assassinated by servants in the employ of the then Shogun, Missora Takeamora and she was not about to let that happen here.
No spies or assassins were discovered that day on the grounds of House Shimakaze, so two hours later, the young, nineteen year old, Yoshi Shimakaze was inspecting bolts of silk in the marketplace of Luna. Accompanied by her two retainers, a translator and a servant she wandered through the city wondering what kind of gift would be appropriate for a woman Daimyo of Lady Severn’s stature. Even this late in the day the city of Luna was packed with shoppers, merchants, guild members, food vendors and tourists and her retainers had to shove people aside so she could get through. Many of side alleys were just as crowded and as evening grew closer, Yoshi’s frustration grew.
A few people stared openly at the little party accompanying the young woman dressed in a deep blue Kimono and grey Obi with two swords arranged neatly through her Obi but for the most part they were ignored save for the occasional scuffle when one of her retainers shoved someone a bit too hard. Words were spoken, even though neither understood the other, but no blows were exchanged and her servant kept bowing vigorously to just about everyone they passed.
Through it all Yoshi held her head and gaze steady and her composure in check although the smells were an assault on her senses. More than once she wondered to herself if these people had ever heard of a bath, or a shave, or even knew what a comb was. Soon daylight began to fade and the torch lighters were climbing ladders in order to light the torches anchored high on the sides of buildings. Yoshi ordered one of her retainers to move ahead and try to clear a path. Immediately he rushed ahead and disappeared around the corner. A moment later a chilling scream split the evening and the city seemed to hold its breath for a second. In that second nothing moved or made a sound and then the noise of the crowd broke like an ocean wave against the city walls. Yoshi rounded the corner and stopped short. Her retainer lay dead at the feet of a rather squat yet broad in the chest Gargoyle. The Gargoyle, its wings spread, had a look of extreme anger on its face. It was staring down at the body of the retainer. The crowd had backed away but huddled in a thick circle around the scene as if waiting to see what might happen next.
Yoshi Shimakaze blinked once but the expression on her face never changed. Someone in the crowd shouted something and her interpreter translated, for Yoshi would not have understood what was said even if it had been in her native tongue. The only sound that filled the young woman’s ears was that of a high pitched ringing. She blinked again and heard her translator say
“They said My Lady: ‘Its Gabriel again. He’s killed another.’”
The words meant nothing. Yoshi glanced at her dead retainer and narrowed her eyes. Death is certain. It comes to us all either in battle or on the sick bed and her loyal servant had understood this as do all who take up the Art of the Sword. To die is one thing. To die with honor was something else but in that single glance Yoshi saw that her loyal servant had not died with honor for his sword remained sheathed. He had been murdered and this was a supreme insult to both him and his mistress. But for Yoshi what made the insult unbearable was that the criminal was a Gargoyle.
Yoshi hated Gargoyle’s more than any creature that breathed air or walked the earth. She considered them spawn of evil dragons; abominations that should be sent into the fires of hell as swiftly as possible. In her mind the fact they were permitted to mingle among other races was an affront to all who prized order and sensibility. Dragging her eyes from her dead retainer’s sword she looked at the Gargoyle who stood there as if waiting for an apology from the dead man’s lips. He looked at the crowd and said something, flexing his wings as if to emphasize his point. But the crowd would have none of it. When Yoshi stepped forward into the circle and stood over the body of her loyal servant the murmur of the crowd stopped. The Gargoyle, who called himself Gabriel, looked at the young woman whose face showed no emotion but whose intentions were obvious for she rested her hand on the hilt of her own sword and stood slightly back in her stance. Then the Gargoyle did something that caused the corner of Yoshi’s left eye to twitch; he laughed at her.
The crowd took a collective step backward as Gabriel, now realizing the serious intention of the young woman, flexed his wings and narrowed his gaze at her. Yoshi blinked once. The Gargoyle stood only slightly taller than her making him an oddity among his race for the average Gargoyle stood more than six or seven feet at most. This did not seem to bother Gabriel as he sized up and dismissed the young woman as easy prey. How could she fight in clothes like that anyway he thought and smiled when Yoshi stepped out of her sandals and moved, barefooted, to the left bending her knees slightly as she did. Gabriel chuckled then glanced at the crowd where he saw even the Town Guards, having arrived moments earlier, watched without acting. They knew his reputation and were more than willing to let this girl do their job for them. Gabriel had a reputation; it seemed, for killing without good cause but somehow he always got away with it. Maybe this time it would be different but judging from the size of the girl and her manner of dress it was doubtful. Money began exchanging hands behind the first row of the crowd as bets were placed. Odds favored Gabriel. But a handful of traders who had traveled far over the world bet against the broad, heavily muscled Gargoyle and these men murmured excitingly amongst themselves.
In a flourish and with great aplomb Gabriel drew his own broad, heavy sword and waved it in the air like a flag and then, taking the hilt in both hands, he leveled the tip at the young woman. Yoshi stilled her mind and let her trained muscles take over. She withdrew the scabbard completely from her Obi and held it horizontally at eye level. Then with a ‘snap’ she yanked the blade two inches out of the black lacquered scabbard. Her dark eyes settled on the Gargoyle as she calmed herself. She then drew the Katana slowly from its home so the Gargoyle could see the blade gleam in the fading light. At the halfway point Yoshi swept the blade completely out letting it sing as it leapt from the scabbard. The crowd gasped at the beauty of the weapon. Its subtle curve was a thing of beauty. The perfect balance of the blade allowed the young woman to move without effort and her calm exterior created an atmosphere of natural beauty that few in the crowd ever saw and would certainly, never forget.
Holding the blade in her right hand and the empty scabbard in her left, Yoshi turned her left side toward the Gargoyle who was now completely focused on her. Her gaze was steady. She knew instinctively that a drawn out battle with this creature would not be to her advantage. His sheer size and strength meant she would not be able to parry his blows for long. She would have to end this quickly or not at all. Gabriel moved from left to right in an effort to find a point of attack. His blood red skin gleamed with sweat and he moved his head in such a way that his horns might become weapons as well. He growled, spat, and muttered words in his own language. He flexed his muscles and tightened his jaw. His clawed feet dug into the paved street and his red eyes flared with hate. But it was not until he spread his wings wide to appear larger and more menacing that Yoshi acted.
Without hesitation, in what appeared more a dance move than an attack, Yoshi swung her feet around in a tight circle and spun her body while bringing her sword down and up in a gleaming arc as she ducked under the Gargoyles left wing. The sword sliced as cleanly through the leather-like flesh and cartilage of the wing as easily as a hot knife through butter. Yoshi’s follow-through completed the arc in a vertical circle and she ended up behind and to the right of the creature in the exact same stance she was in when she started but with her right side toward the Gargoyle instead of her left. The tip of her sword pointing toward the ground dripped blood into a small puddle as utter silence fell over the scene. She dropped the empty scabbard to the ground and slowly placed both hand on the hilt while bringing her body around to face the creature with her left shoulder facing her enemy. She held her arms across her body with the tip of the sword still pointed down and slightly behind her. This brought her shoulders closer together causing her to lower her head slightly as she glared at him from under her brow.
An eternity seemed to pass as the reality of what just happened dawned on both the onlookers and on Gabriel himself. Startled by what happened he simply stood up and blinked then slowly looked down at the wing lying next to him on the pavement. He frowned as if not truly understanding, and then as blood began to pool at his feet from the wounds on his back, a slow howl rose from his throat. He held his arms out wide and roared at the sky as if praying to his daemon gods. Rage now replaced all reason in the creatures mind and as he turned toward the girl he raised his great sword high over his head to bring it down upon her and destroy her utterly.
Yoshi stood with her left side toward the criminal and waited. Her face void of emotion. Her eyes level and calm and save for the twitch at the corner of her left eye, one would never know she was in a duel for her life. As the creature spun and raised his sword high over his head she waited until it had reached the apex of its rise before she moved. Rushing toward the beast she bent her knees and darted toward her left. At the same time in one smooth motion she drew her sword in tight against her body with the edge facing out she swept past Gabriel almost touching him as she passed. Six feet beyond him she turned and once again stood with her left side toward his back. Now however, still holding her sword in both hands she stood in a low stance with the tip of her blade pointed to the sky. The crowd gasped and not a few of them looked upon the young dark haired girl with awe. Gabriel stood there blinking in confusion. His blow should have cleaved the girl in two but all his sword had cut was empty air. He stood up frowning and glanced down at his side. A gapping wound like a bloody smile creased the thick flesh along his ribs but deeper still she had severed two of his ribs and deeper yet; an artery.
A strange sensation came over the Gargoyle. His muscles relaxed and he let the tip of his sword rest against the pavement as a strange euphoria overcame him. He looked at the faces of the people in the crowd that stood before him and wondered as to their wide-eyed look of surprise. It would be the last thing he saw in his miserable existence for Yoshi Shimakaze moved once again toward the murderer and daemon spawn and, passing swiftly behind him, she swung her sword in a high arc over her head and across her body at shoulder level. Describing it later many of the people in the crowd would swear they could see the blade of the young woman’s sword actually cut the air as it sang.
Yoshi finished her move with flawless precision her knees bent, her arms wide and her sword held out behind her. She paused until she heard the dull thump of the Gargoyles head strike the pavement before she stood up and swung the sword once more in an arc over her head and across her body snapping it short at the bottom of the arc. The sound of blood spattering the pavement was the only sound that evening in that corner of Luna where Yoshi Shimakaze, daughter of Lord Ikrua Shimakaze and friend to Lady Severn of Wolf’s Hollow had finished her first duel.
No charges were brought against the young woman and, after answering a few questions and taking statements from witnesses the authorities released her. A sadness followed the small party as they made their way toward home. Darkness had settled and her remaining retainer rode ahead holding a lantern high so as to see the road. Riding behind, her interpreter and servant were silent as they mused over the events of the day. Yoshi was alone in her thoughts and a bit perplexed for now she would have to find a suitable replacement for her dead retainer but worse yet; she still did not have a proper gift for her friend.
The Lady Yoshi Shimakaze returned home from her third lesson in the art of the Tea Ceremony given by the Lady Mizuki. The lessons were held in the embassy rooms set aside for such purposes. Besides, that is where any formal presentation of the Tea Ceremony would be held in the future so it made sense to take her lessons there. Yoshi had done well although she struggled a bit with the order in which one presents and then cleans the tea bowls. That and the correct folding of the cloth with which one wipes the bowl. She could snap the cloth perfectly and replace it in the waist of her Obi almost like a master, but until she mastered the fold, she could not move on.
Her thoughts were on this matter as she strolled the short distance from the embassy to her home. Accompanied by two fierce looking retainers and several servants, she took her time since the weather was mild for this time of year. Approaching home she paused to study the architecture of a neighboring house. She concluded that it had been an attempt by the owner to emulate the Tokuno style, and that they had failed miserably. She stood there frowning at the upper floors and, although she was not an architect, decided that the owner was a “gungi” with little taste or artistic sensibilities and thus could be dismissed out of hand.
“Perhaps,” she mused, “I will send a retainer to burn it down some night as it offends the eye.”
She thought the better of it since, although it would have been perfectly within her right to do so at home in Tokuno, there were different laws regarding such things here and she did not wish to place her father in the uncomfortable position of having to explaining to the town leaders exactly why his daughter would do such a thing. Instead she simply spit on the ground in front of the house and dismissed it from her mind.
Arriving home she immediately went to the small altar in the garden and offered incense and prayers to her ancestors. As the scent of Lilacs drifted on the air Yoshi vowed that she would never again forget to pay them homage and risk loosing something as valuable as her swords again. The fact that the swords were returned at all was a sign that her ancestors were watching over her. What puzzled her most, however, was how the leader of this city, Lady Severn, factored into the mystery. Somehow this strange woman played a pivotal role in the fate of the swords and thus became wound into the fabric of Yoshi’s fate as well. Her thoughts on this subject were interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing somewhere in the house. Standing up Yoshi bowed once more to the altar and hurried downstairs for the mid-day meal with her father.
Over tea and miso soup she and her father Ikrua discussed the family business and debated the advantages of various horses and what weapons might be put to use while riding each of the several breeds. Ikura told an off color joke about a ronin and a stubborn horse and the house echoed with laughter for the first time in many months. Even the servants sitting against the far wall smiled. Perhaps living here might not be as terrible as Yoshi had anticipated. It was then that the subject turned to the most recent gift from the Lady Severn.
Yoshi cleared her throat gently. “Father?” She started the question in her native Tokunoese but Ikrua instructed her to speak in the ‘common’ tongue. “For practice.” He stated as he watched a servant pour hot tea into his tea-bowl.
Yoshi still struggled with many of the words and often had difficulty constructing a sentence as the common tongue felt heavy on her lips and sounded like a hammer striking wood, but she obeyed.
“Father,” she began again, “This woman Daimyo,” she instantly corrected herself, “I mean l e a d e r,” she said the word one letter at a time, “of this city. This Lady Severn. Do you trust her?”
Ikura glanced at his daughter as he lifted his tea-bowl with two hands, paused and then said.
“Daughter, thus far she has brought only honor and respect as her gifts. The return of your swords was a remarkable twist of fate and should be accepted as such. To do otherwise would cause you loss of face and,” he added after taking a sip, “perhaps a loss of a new friend as well?”
Yoshi titled her head and bowed.
“Yes, father. You are correct but it is not the swords of which I speak. It is this new gift. The one of armor.” She frowned and asked the next question as if thinking it aloud.
“Why would she make such a set of armor as a gift when none was required?”
It was apparent to Ikrua that his daughter had struggled with this question for some time and was baffled by it. So he attempted to explain the custom of gift giving and the western holiday of “Christmas.” Yoshi listened intently as her father spoke of the various practices of the west and the holidays they considered important. He compared them to the Spring Rituals and Snow Rituals of their homeland. Making the comparison helped Yoshi better understand why a stranger would present such a gift to another stranger. As he expected, Yoshi arrived at the conclusion he had hoped for; she must give a gift in return as was the custom.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief Ikrua sat back satisfied he was one step closer to getting the finest “son” a father could have. The meal being concluded Ikura suggested that his daughter travel to the city of Luna to find an appropriate gift for the Lady Severn. The servants cleared the table and began washing the bowls while Ikrua’s retainers ran to gather the horses for Lord Shimakaze had an appointment in the City of Trinsic and must leave immediately. Yoshi walked her father out and watched as the small party rode off toward the northern Moongate. Once they were out of sight she ordered the house searched for hidden spies or assassins for she was not yet as convinced as her father was even though she trusted his judgment. Being under the watchful eye of the Shogun, who Yoshi despised, one needed to always be vigilant and even more so with strangers. Yoshi had made it a daily practice for the house and surrounding grounds to be searched for spies and possible assassins. Her grandfather and great-grandfather were both assassinated by servants in the employ of the then Shogun, Missora Takeamora and she was not about to let that happen here.
No spies or assassins were discovered that day on the grounds of House Shimakaze, so two hours later, the young, nineteen year old, Yoshi Shimakaze was inspecting bolts of silk in the marketplace of Luna. Accompanied by her two retainers, a translator and a servant she wandered through the city wondering what kind of gift would be appropriate for a woman Daimyo of Lady Severn’s stature. Even this late in the day the city of Luna was packed with shoppers, merchants, guild members, food vendors and tourists and her retainers had to shove people aside so she could get through. Many of side alleys were just as crowded and as evening grew closer, Yoshi’s frustration grew.
A few people stared openly at the little party accompanying the young woman dressed in a deep blue Kimono and grey Obi with two swords arranged neatly through her Obi but for the most part they were ignored save for the occasional scuffle when one of her retainers shoved someone a bit too hard. Words were spoken, even though neither understood the other, but no blows were exchanged and her servant kept bowing vigorously to just about everyone they passed.
Through it all Yoshi held her head and gaze steady and her composure in check although the smells were an assault on her senses. More than once she wondered to herself if these people had ever heard of a bath, or a shave, or even knew what a comb was. Soon daylight began to fade and the torch lighters were climbing ladders in order to light the torches anchored high on the sides of buildings. Yoshi ordered one of her retainers to move ahead and try to clear a path. Immediately he rushed ahead and disappeared around the corner. A moment later a chilling scream split the evening and the city seemed to hold its breath for a second. In that second nothing moved or made a sound and then the noise of the crowd broke like an ocean wave against the city walls. Yoshi rounded the corner and stopped short. Her retainer lay dead at the feet of a rather squat yet broad in the chest Gargoyle. The Gargoyle, its wings spread, had a look of extreme anger on its face. It was staring down at the body of the retainer. The crowd had backed away but huddled in a thick circle around the scene as if waiting to see what might happen next.
Yoshi Shimakaze blinked once but the expression on her face never changed. Someone in the crowd shouted something and her interpreter translated, for Yoshi would not have understood what was said even if it had been in her native tongue. The only sound that filled the young woman’s ears was that of a high pitched ringing. She blinked again and heard her translator say
“They said My Lady: ‘Its Gabriel again. He’s killed another.’”
The words meant nothing. Yoshi glanced at her dead retainer and narrowed her eyes. Death is certain. It comes to us all either in battle or on the sick bed and her loyal servant had understood this as do all who take up the Art of the Sword. To die is one thing. To die with honor was something else but in that single glance Yoshi saw that her loyal servant had not died with honor for his sword remained sheathed. He had been murdered and this was a supreme insult to both him and his mistress. But for Yoshi what made the insult unbearable was that the criminal was a Gargoyle.
Yoshi hated Gargoyle’s more than any creature that breathed air or walked the earth. She considered them spawn of evil dragons; abominations that should be sent into the fires of hell as swiftly as possible. In her mind the fact they were permitted to mingle among other races was an affront to all who prized order and sensibility. Dragging her eyes from her dead retainer’s sword she looked at the Gargoyle who stood there as if waiting for an apology from the dead man’s lips. He looked at the crowd and said something, flexing his wings as if to emphasize his point. But the crowd would have none of it. When Yoshi stepped forward into the circle and stood over the body of her loyal servant the murmur of the crowd stopped. The Gargoyle, who called himself Gabriel, looked at the young woman whose face showed no emotion but whose intentions were obvious for she rested her hand on the hilt of her own sword and stood slightly back in her stance. Then the Gargoyle did something that caused the corner of Yoshi’s left eye to twitch; he laughed at her.
The crowd took a collective step backward as Gabriel, now realizing the serious intention of the young woman, flexed his wings and narrowed his gaze at her. Yoshi blinked once. The Gargoyle stood only slightly taller than her making him an oddity among his race for the average Gargoyle stood more than six or seven feet at most. This did not seem to bother Gabriel as he sized up and dismissed the young woman as easy prey. How could she fight in clothes like that anyway he thought and smiled when Yoshi stepped out of her sandals and moved, barefooted, to the left bending her knees slightly as she did. Gabriel chuckled then glanced at the crowd where he saw even the Town Guards, having arrived moments earlier, watched without acting. They knew his reputation and were more than willing to let this girl do their job for them. Gabriel had a reputation; it seemed, for killing without good cause but somehow he always got away with it. Maybe this time it would be different but judging from the size of the girl and her manner of dress it was doubtful. Money began exchanging hands behind the first row of the crowd as bets were placed. Odds favored Gabriel. But a handful of traders who had traveled far over the world bet against the broad, heavily muscled Gargoyle and these men murmured excitingly amongst themselves.
In a flourish and with great aplomb Gabriel drew his own broad, heavy sword and waved it in the air like a flag and then, taking the hilt in both hands, he leveled the tip at the young woman. Yoshi stilled her mind and let her trained muscles take over. She withdrew the scabbard completely from her Obi and held it horizontally at eye level. Then with a ‘snap’ she yanked the blade two inches out of the black lacquered scabbard. Her dark eyes settled on the Gargoyle as she calmed herself. She then drew the Katana slowly from its home so the Gargoyle could see the blade gleam in the fading light. At the halfway point Yoshi swept the blade completely out letting it sing as it leapt from the scabbard. The crowd gasped at the beauty of the weapon. Its subtle curve was a thing of beauty. The perfect balance of the blade allowed the young woman to move without effort and her calm exterior created an atmosphere of natural beauty that few in the crowd ever saw and would certainly, never forget.
Holding the blade in her right hand and the empty scabbard in her left, Yoshi turned her left side toward the Gargoyle who was now completely focused on her. Her gaze was steady. She knew instinctively that a drawn out battle with this creature would not be to her advantage. His sheer size and strength meant she would not be able to parry his blows for long. She would have to end this quickly or not at all. Gabriel moved from left to right in an effort to find a point of attack. His blood red skin gleamed with sweat and he moved his head in such a way that his horns might become weapons as well. He growled, spat, and muttered words in his own language. He flexed his muscles and tightened his jaw. His clawed feet dug into the paved street and his red eyes flared with hate. But it was not until he spread his wings wide to appear larger and more menacing that Yoshi acted.
Without hesitation, in what appeared more a dance move than an attack, Yoshi swung her feet around in a tight circle and spun her body while bringing her sword down and up in a gleaming arc as she ducked under the Gargoyles left wing. The sword sliced as cleanly through the leather-like flesh and cartilage of the wing as easily as a hot knife through butter. Yoshi’s follow-through completed the arc in a vertical circle and she ended up behind and to the right of the creature in the exact same stance she was in when she started but with her right side toward the Gargoyle instead of her left. The tip of her sword pointing toward the ground dripped blood into a small puddle as utter silence fell over the scene. She dropped the empty scabbard to the ground and slowly placed both hand on the hilt while bringing her body around to face the creature with her left shoulder facing her enemy. She held her arms across her body with the tip of the sword still pointed down and slightly behind her. This brought her shoulders closer together causing her to lower her head slightly as she glared at him from under her brow.
An eternity seemed to pass as the reality of what just happened dawned on both the onlookers and on Gabriel himself. Startled by what happened he simply stood up and blinked then slowly looked down at the wing lying next to him on the pavement. He frowned as if not truly understanding, and then as blood began to pool at his feet from the wounds on his back, a slow howl rose from his throat. He held his arms out wide and roared at the sky as if praying to his daemon gods. Rage now replaced all reason in the creatures mind and as he turned toward the girl he raised his great sword high over his head to bring it down upon her and destroy her utterly.
Yoshi stood with her left side toward the criminal and waited. Her face void of emotion. Her eyes level and calm and save for the twitch at the corner of her left eye, one would never know she was in a duel for her life. As the creature spun and raised his sword high over his head she waited until it had reached the apex of its rise before she moved. Rushing toward the beast she bent her knees and darted toward her left. At the same time in one smooth motion she drew her sword in tight against her body with the edge facing out she swept past Gabriel almost touching him as she passed. Six feet beyond him she turned and once again stood with her left side toward his back. Now however, still holding her sword in both hands she stood in a low stance with the tip of her blade pointed to the sky. The crowd gasped and not a few of them looked upon the young dark haired girl with awe. Gabriel stood there blinking in confusion. His blow should have cleaved the girl in two but all his sword had cut was empty air. He stood up frowning and glanced down at his side. A gapping wound like a bloody smile creased the thick flesh along his ribs but deeper still she had severed two of his ribs and deeper yet; an artery.
A strange sensation came over the Gargoyle. His muscles relaxed and he let the tip of his sword rest against the pavement as a strange euphoria overcame him. He looked at the faces of the people in the crowd that stood before him and wondered as to their wide-eyed look of surprise. It would be the last thing he saw in his miserable existence for Yoshi Shimakaze moved once again toward the murderer and daemon spawn and, passing swiftly behind him, she swung her sword in a high arc over her head and across her body at shoulder level. Describing it later many of the people in the crowd would swear they could see the blade of the young woman’s sword actually cut the air as it sang.
Yoshi finished her move with flawless precision her knees bent, her arms wide and her sword held out behind her. She paused until she heard the dull thump of the Gargoyles head strike the pavement before she stood up and swung the sword once more in an arc over her head and across her body snapping it short at the bottom of the arc. The sound of blood spattering the pavement was the only sound that evening in that corner of Luna where Yoshi Shimakaze, daughter of Lord Ikrua Shimakaze and friend to Lady Severn of Wolf’s Hollow had finished her first duel.
No charges were brought against the young woman and, after answering a few questions and taking statements from witnesses the authorities released her. A sadness followed the small party as they made their way toward home. Darkness had settled and her remaining retainer rode ahead holding a lantern high so as to see the road. Riding behind, her interpreter and servant were silent as they mused over the events of the day. Yoshi was alone in her thoughts and a bit perplexed for now she would have to find a suitable replacement for her dead retainer but worse yet; she still did not have a proper gift for her friend.
