Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

“The bell is sounding from the north tower.” Grace pointed towards a building peeking out above the general store.

The cobblestone street was full of students. They were all staring in the same direction, frozen in either confusion or undecidedness.

“What should we do?” asked Ronin, looking to Grace.

“I know what I’m gonna do,” said Mike. He started a hurried walk towards the tower.

At the top of the tower was a look-out room. Ronin focused, his vision seemed to stretch out, like looking through binoculars. “Woah,” said Ronin, under his breath. Guess I have super seeing too. Someone inside the guardhouse was swinging their arm back and forth in a hurried pace. It matched the sound of the bell clanging out.

“We can’t let the big oaf go it alone,” said Kevin, looking to his friends.

Ronin and Grace nodded. The three chased Mike down the cobblestone street. As they passed each building Ronin took notice of their architecture. All the buildings matched. They were cobblestone with thatched rooves. Each building had a wooden sign over the front door. Not noticing it before, he had a lot on his mind when Kevin drug him to Bub’s Pub earlier, but the whole area came together like a little medieval town.

There was a general store, a clothing store, an armor shop, and various other specialty stores. He also noticed quite a few restaurants. One particularly odd one was a Chinese restaurant called Mr. Chang’s Chinese Cuisine. It wasn’t so much that the restaurant was odd, more that it was odd to see a Chinese food place in a medieval European construction. White plumes of smoke snaked up and away from the many cobblestone chimneys lining the horizon. For some reason it reminded Ronin of how cold it was. He balled his hands into fists to stuff them in his pockets but sharp pain forced them back open. Little punctures riddled the palms of his hands. Beads of red swelled and slithered down his wrists as he held his hands up to inspect them. Stupid claws. He wiped his hands on his coat. Staring at the general store just down the road he wondered if he could buy some gloves there. The bell clanging in the distance reminded him he had more important things to worry about.

They caught up to Mike, who happened to be faster than he looked. They passed the general store, which was where the little town ended. The tower was close now. They turned the corner and froze in their tracks. The wind changed course. The breeze blew across Ronin’s face. A strange smell hit him. The same smell that caught his attention in the pub.

Surrounded by four young men in BrightWood trench coats was another young man who was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. All five men had their Mayreblades drawn and ready. The four BrightWood men stood still, their swords pointing at the man they had encircled.

The tower was just to the left of Ronin and his three friends. In front of the tower was a stretch of grass that ended abruptly at a thick forest of pine trees. The tower was there to obviously guard against whatever might come from the forest. The five men were only feet from the forest.

“Oh no,” said Grace. She took a step back, her shoulder brushed against Ronin’s. Fear exuded from her, it smelled sweet and made Ronin’s heart race.

“Who is that guy with the leather jacket?” asked Mike.

“He’s a Vein,” said Grace.

“What?” said Kevin. “How can you tell?”

“His sword,” said Grace. “It’s different than ours, the edges are jagged and the blade is thicker. Their swords are unique to them like our swords are to us.” Grace looked behind them, and then fired her eyes in all direction. “He’s going to kill them all if they don’t get here.”

Sniffing the air, Ronin’s scent library was confused. The smell was like nothing he had ever experienced. The salt content was especially high, it was almost like smelling the ocean. He closed his eyes. The scent trail led across the grass and straight to the man in the leather jacket.

The Vein slowly lifted his sword. He pointed the tip at one of the BrightWood men.

“No. No. No,” Grace fired her head in every direction. “They’re not going to get here in time.”

“Can we do something?” asked Ronin. “Can we get someone? There must be something we can do?”

“It’s too late. The Keiri are the only ones who can help.”

“It’s four against one,” said Mike. “He’d be stupid to try anything.” He gave Grace a sarcastic look, like she was a dumb girl who didn’t know what she was talking about.

“You don’t understand,” said Grace. “You’ve ne…”

The Vein lunged forward. His target couldn’t even react.

Grace gasped out in horror. Mike, Kevin and Ronin froze. Their mouths hung open. Their eyes were wide and unblinking. Ronin wanted to run, to get as far away as possible, but he couldn’t will his legs to move, couldn’t will his eyes to pull away from the BrightWood man lying motionless in the grass.

Laughter, a sick maniacal laughter, cackled from the Vein. The three BrightWood men charged. All had fear in their eyes. The smiling Vein cut the first one down with one stroke, the second man fell in two. The speed and power was mind boggling. The gore turned Ronin’s stomach but he couldn’t look away. He was frozen in fear, frozen in disbelief. The last BrightWood warrior came down hard with an overhead strike aimed at the Vein’s head. The Vein parried it as though he were sparring with a child. The Vein elbowed the BrightWood man in the face.

The BrightWood man flew backwards. He landed hard on his back. His sword flew at least ten feet from him and lay shimmering in the grass. The Vein walked over to him. A smile stretched across his face. He stood over the BrightWood man. The Vein pointed the tip of his sword at the man’s chest.

“No. Please no,” begged, the BrightWood man. “Please.” Fearful tears welled up in his eyes. His outstretched hands trembled.

“You have no honor, you begging dog. I should cut your tongue out and feed it to you.”

Grace grabbed Ronin and put her face into his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body trembled. Ronin wanted to comfort her but he was too numb. He couldn’t feel his arms or hands. He just stood still. Kevin and Mike were faring no better. Both looked scared. A sight Ronin thought he’d never see.

“John Saxon!” screamed Cyrus. The anger in his voice sounded like it could’ve felled the entire forest.

The Vein looked up from his victim. In a blur Cyrus burst past Ronin. Cyrus stopped about fifteen feet from the Vein. He unbuckled his belt, removed his holstered gun and dropped it into the grass “I won’t be needing this will I John?” The hate in Cyrus’s voice was chilling.

“Cyrus Elm.” John smiled and stepped over the BrightWood man. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally meet you.” He spit on the ground. “Seems you have been making a name for yourself killing off weak Vein. Now, normally I would applaud you for your efforts, after all, only the strong deserve to survive, but your fame is ill-founded.” His eyes slanted in anger. “And that is something I cannot stomach. I look forward to ending you.” He looked down at the BrightWood man lying at his feet. He looked back up to Cyrus and smiled.

“No!” shouted Cyrus.

The Vein thrust his sword down. A sickening thud sounded out. Mike gasped out and turned his head away.

“You bastard!” shouted Cyrus at the top of his lungs. He reached over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword. Belting out a battle howl that would have scared Achilles, Cyrus burst forward with his Mayreblade held at his right side, gripped with two hands.

The Vein’s smile turned into a scowl. He pulled his sword out of his victim and wiped the wet blade on his pants. He took one step forward and spread his legs far apart. His sword was held with two hands, the tip pointing to the sky.

The sharp clash of metal against metal rang out, echoing off trees and carrying through the air like thunder. Cyrus pulled his blade back and attacked again. John parried it, and then parried the next four strikes that came like lightening. Cyrus thrusted the tip of his sword at John’s chest. The Vein parried it away. Cyrus feinted left, then leaped into the air and summersaulted over John. John spun around and parried two more strikes aimed at his shoulders.

Cyrus’s onslaught was relentless. All John could do was parry and block. He was stuck fighting defensively. The longer the fight drug on the more exhausted Cyrus looked. It was obvious he would not be able to keep up with his frenzied barrage.

“He’s tiring,” said Grace. “If he doesn’t do something soon he will lose.”

Ronin was surprised to hear her voice. He thought she was still unable to watch.

“What should we do?” asked Ronin.

“There is nothing we can do,” said Grace. “They are locked in one-on-one combat. If we were to intervene it would be a violation of the treaty.”

Slashes, somersaults, spins, jumps, ducks and feints, Cyrus style was athletic and acrobatic. John had an answer for it all. His style was purely defensive, at least as far as Ronin could tell. Cyrus’s face looked fatigued. The sweat was streaming down the sides of his cheeks. In between strikes he wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. The motion was altering his strikes. They were not as quick and powerful. Two more strikes, an overhead slash to the shoulder parried into a cross slash to the chest, which was blocked. Cyrus stepped back. His breathing was heavy. The confidence in his eyes was gone, instead a sort of desperation had taken its place.

Cyrus looked to Grace. He nodded. His eyes looked like they were saying sorry.

“No,” said Grace, under her breath. She shook her head. “Don’t do it.”

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Ronin voice was frantic.

“He’s desperate, he’s going to do something reckless.”

“How can you tell?”

“I just know.” She turned away. “I can’t watch.”

Cyrus lunged into the air. He pulled his sword back over his head. He came down with a herculean strike. John blocked the attack, but in doing so his sword was forced below his chest. Cyrus twisted his hips and pointed the tip of his sword to John’s solar plexus. John’s eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth, his lips formed into an O. He leaned back to try to get away.

Cyrus’s eyebrows furrowed. He yelled out and lunged his hands forward. John dropped to his knees. The pupils in his eyes dilated. Cyrus turned his back on John and at the same time pulled his sword away. He wiped the blade on his pants before re-sheathing it to his back. The Vein fell forward, his face bounced off the grass, the stillness of his body revealed his fate.

Grace broke away from Ronin and ran across the grass field. Cyrus smiled and opened his arms. Grace just about jumped into his chest. Ronin was finally able to turn his gaze away.

“That’s what we’re going to be fighting against?” asked Mike, looking at Ronin and Kevin.

“This is no joke,” said Kevin. He shook his head and folded his arms. “We need to make a pact right now that we are going to push each other. No messing around. We have to train harder than these Vein guys.” He looked at the four BrightWood men still lying in the grass. “If we don’t, we’re going to end up like them.”

Mike and Ronin nodded.

The wind shifted. The breeze blew across Ronin’s left cheek. A familiar smell hit him. It made his heart palpitate. He searched to his left but couldn’t see Ryan anywhere. He closed his eyes and focused. The scent trailed off across the grass and towards the pine-tree forest. He scanned the trees and saw a bit of movement. Ronin walked until he could see who was behind the tree. It was Ryan and he was talking to someone. Not wanting to get too close, Ronin stopped about hundred yards from Ryan. Turning his head and aiming his left ear in their direction, Ronin closed his eyes and listened.

“What happened?” hissed Ryan. “He was supposed to enter on the south side.” He punched the tree. A huge chunk of bark dislodged and flew about ten feet. “Now they are going to move it. We missed our chance.”

“How long will it take before they move the Mayrestone?” asked the stranger talking to Ryan.

“I don’t know. Protocol is to move it when the perimeter has been breached. For all I know they could be moving it right now. Once they put it in the vault, there will be no way to get it.”

“The tournament will be our only chance then,” said the stranger.

“Shut up,” said Ryan. He paused for a moment. “Who is that? Someone is watching us. Wait.” A pause. “Little bas…”

Ronin opened his eyes. Kevin was looking right at him.

“Cyrus,” said a man with a deep voice. He sounded angry.

Ronin jerked his attention back to where Cyrus had fought John. Standing next to Cyrus were two men. Both had long black hair fashioned into top knots. The man to the left of Cyrus looked to be in his fifties, the other looked to be in his early twenties. Both were wearing BrightWood trench coats, but, instead of the standard black clothing that everyone else wore underneath, they were wearing what looked like Japanese kimonos.

“Master Musashi. Master Kita,” said Cyrus. He bowed.

A man in a white jacket ran up to the four men laying in the grass. He checked each man for a pulse, then looked to the two masters and shook his head.

The wind changed direction again. Ryan’s smell vanished. Firing his head back to the forest Ronin was disappointed to find no trace of Ryan or the man he was talking to. Somehow Ryan was involved with what had just happened, Ronin knew it. He had to tell his friends what he heard. He ran back to Grace.

“Grace,” said Ronin. He lightly touched her shoulder. She didn’t seem to hear him. She was watching the two masters talking to Cyrus.

“Grace.” This time Ronin gently grabbed her elbow. She turned to face him. She looked surprised to see him.

“Where’d you go? What’s wrong?”

“I saw Ryan talking to someone. He was in the forest hiding behind a pine tree. I could hear what they were saying. I think he had something to do with the Vein coming here.”

Grace firmly grabbed Ronin’s arm. “Don’t say another word,” she said. The seriousness in her voice shocked Ronin. She glanced all around. Kevin and Mike crept close. She stared at them. “This goes for you two as well.” She corralled the three boys and faced them. In a hushed voice she continued, “You don’t know how things work here yet. But if you want to stay at BrightWood, you leave Ryan alone. If he does something to you, leave it alone. Don’t say anything to anyone about it. You just pretend like it didn’t happen. If you so much as breathe a negative word about him, they will expel you. I’ve heard stories about kids who complained of his bullying. They were gone the next day and their contracts were voided.”

“Who the heck is Ryan?” asked Mike.

“Dr. Grey’s son,” said Grace.

“Yeah. Well. I don’t take kindly to privileged little punks who think their tough,” said Mike.

“If you want to stay here you will.”

“Whatever.” Mike folded his arms.

Master Mushashi used his foot to turn the Vein’s body over. Something caught Ronin’s eye. A necklace with a silver pendant. The shape of the pendant was familiar. He moved closer to get a better look. The pendant had two swords crossing on it, just like his fathers. He moved around Cyrus and stopped a foot from the Vein.

“Who is this?” asked Master Musashi, looking right at Ronin. He sounded irritated.

“He’s a first year,” said Cyrus. “I’m sorry master. I will get him out of here.” He grabbed Ronin’s shoulder and escorted him back to his friends. “You guys need to leave.” He looked to Grace. “Take them back to their rooms.”

“Okay,” said Grace, timidly.

Without saying another word Cyrus turned and walked back to the two masters.

Grace looked like her feelings were hurt. “Okay. Let’s go.”

No matter how hard Ronin tried he couldn’t get the conversation he overheard out of his head. He had to know one thing. “What’s a Mayrestone?” he asked.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “It’s a Vein artifact that helps protect the school. What made you ask about that? Wait. You didn’t hear that from Ryan did you?”

Ronin looked to his feet.

“You did! What did I tell you?” Her eyes softened and her voice grew more compassionate. “Please, just let it go.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Ronin didn’t mean it, but she seemed to genuinely care and he didn’t want to disrespect her kindness.

“Who are those guys with the topknots?” asked Kevin. It was obvious he was trying to change an uncomfortable subject.

“Master Musahsi and Master Kita,” said Grace. “They are teachers here. Two of the greatest swordsman BrightWood has ever known. Master Musashi is a normal human but don’t let that fool you. He is from Miyomoto Musashi’s line.”

“Who the heck is Miyomoto Musashi?” asked Mike.

“The greatest Samurai to ever live,” said Kevin.

“Sweet.”

Kevin chuckled.

The whole conversation seemed odd. They were acting like nothing happened. After thinking about it Ronin came to the conclusion that it was their way of dealing with such a traumatic moment. They had their way of dealing with it and he had his.

The cold hearted ruthlessness of the Vein played over and over in Ronin’s mind. What made matters worse was the fact that his parents were somehow connected to them. A heaviness came over his heart. His memories couldn’t be wrong. The happiness he felt as a young boy had to be true. They were loving parents. Something wasn’t right. The people he remembered wouldn’t associate with such evil. They were good people. A seed of discontent embedded itself deep in his heart. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he could prove to himself that the memory of his parents wasn’t a lie. It was all he had left of them.

Ryan flashed into Ronin’s thoughts. Somehow he was part of it all. Ryan was his only lead but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. The letter. He had to get it back. Ryan forced himself back into Ronin’s mind. And then it hit him. Ryan caught Ronin eavesdropping on him. This was no longer just about an undecipherable letter, people were killed and Ryan might be directly responsible. The situation had gone from dangerous to deadly. He looked to his friends. They were talking amongst themselves. If he was going to survive at BrightWood, he knew he was going to need their help.