[James Daniels] Tree
The cherry blossoms had long since sprouted, fell, and blew away. The small cherry blossom tree in Highland Park had long since grown leaves and was very green against the blue sky and sunlight. Cooler sunlight than was the normal for this time of year, but still sunlight.
For a moment, the elemental sat underneath the tree and led the sun fall over him. His eyes were closed, the wind blowing against the fabric of his gi. His katana lay across his lap, held lightly by his two hands. At his side, a small basket of very thin ribbons, cut neatly into strips.
The seeress had told him to find his tree. Once, many months ago, in the heart of the winter. And once again a few weeks ago, when he had lost his way so completely. Always he had asked the same question - how could he atone for his past? How could he find the path forward to the future?
It always came back to this tree. He had vague memories of a tree in Arcadia - flashes more than anything else. Feelings more than memories. A feeling of safety, of remorse and calm.
A feeling he hadn't had for a very long time now.
His hands lifted the katana and slipped it into his obi as he stood up. The katana secured, his hands picked up the small basket of ribbons. Long, graceful fingers pulled one out.
He couldn't remember his victims. The irony of his situation was that even now he didn't know the faces of those he had cut down. He wished it were otherwise - but wishes would never change the present.
He would just have to do the best he could. His hand took the ribbon and found a branch of the tree. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for whoemever it represented, whomever it was that was cut down in the prime of their life. And then he tied the ribbon to the tree.
The man stood in front of him. The sword he was carrying was huge, but not like his own. Strange knotwork lined the hilt, which matched that of his scabard. He was huge, standing head and shoulders above Katana's short stature. But it wasn't going to be enough - his Master had called for this man's death, so Katana had come to end him. It had long since ceased to be important to him why his Master wanted this man dead - it could have been for any reason. But he had called for his head, and so Katana would take it.
He sprang forward, moving as quickly as the wind which howled around them. The huge sword swung down towards him, towards where he was. He sprang to the side and slashed, once, his weapon cutting deeply into the warrior's side.
"Why?", asked the man as he fell.
"Because that is the way of this place.", Katana replied.
His eyes opened. One branch of the tree had one ribbon on it. There were still ribbons in his basket. He pulled another out. Another faceless victim, whose name he could not recall. He whispered another prayer to the dead as he tied it to the tree.
They were just attempting to get free. They had run from their masters, all allies of his own master. And so his master had called for their deaths. The others of the Storm were dealing with the other group - this was his. He was in amongst them in a flash, his sword arm a blur as he cut left and right, as the blood stained the grass field they had been running through.
At last, there was only one. A woman, desperately scared, stained with the blood of her companion. "Why?", asked her, as Katana moved towards her.
"Because I have to.", he replied.
Another branch had a ribbon. The man reached into the basket again and again, tying ribbon after ribbon to the tree. He spoke nothing but whispered prayers to the wind, to the ghosts that haunted him.
At last, there were two ribbons left. He picked the next to last one up and tied it to the tree, again praying to the air.
He was tired. Death after death after death, which seemed to solve nothing, which seemed to lead to nothing. Death for honor, death for his master's whim, death because death was the only answer to any question that was asked. He was on another battlefield, surrounded by death, blood filling his nostrils. He paused, no other opponent around him - all around him corpse after corpse asked a sorrow-filled question to him.
"Why?", he asked himself. The wind provided no answer.
The last ribbon was not for a whisper of a memory. It was for a reality. He pulled it out and again tied it to the tree. This time, he whispered a prayer for Lucy. "This one was not aware that you were not dead.", he whispered to the wind, "He thought that what was being done was for the best for all, including for your soul. This one is aware that he has wronged you, and he is sorrowful for that. He will do all he can to make recompense."
His basket was, finally, empty. The tree was festooned with ribbons which blew softly on the chill breeze that cut through the park. He looked at them, sadly. There was much to do. Much that needed putting right. He knew that now - too much time had been spent in sorrow.
More than the time that was spent after the duel. In a way, he had spent his entire time since he had returned from Arcadia living in the sorrow of the past, trying to redeem a sin that he could not even remember. Trying to live a contradiction - fighting for those in the present while trying to live in the past. Fighting to not kill with a weapon that did nothing but.
"Apologies are offered.", he whispered to the air, to the tree. "Living in the sorrow of the past is no longer an option. Too many people are depending on this one to protect them now. No more time remains for contradictions. Sorrow is had for the mistakes and sins of the past - if it is possible, this one will find a way to atone for what was done. But his full attentions are needed to help protect the lives around him. He will return to this tree, as often as he can. He hopes you understand."
The elemental looked up at the tree once again. He bowed at the waist, once, apologizing to the air and to the tree. And then he turned and walked away, leaving the tree with its ribbons fluttering in the wind.
For a moment, the elemental sat underneath the tree and led the sun fall over him. His eyes were closed, the wind blowing against the fabric of his gi. His katana lay across his lap, held lightly by his two hands. At his side, a small basket of very thin ribbons, cut neatly into strips.
The seeress had told him to find his tree. Once, many months ago, in the heart of the winter. And once again a few weeks ago, when he had lost his way so completely. Always he had asked the same question - how could he atone for his past? How could he find the path forward to the future?
It always came back to this tree. He had vague memories of a tree in Arcadia - flashes more than anything else. Feelings more than memories. A feeling of safety, of remorse and calm.
A feeling he hadn't had for a very long time now.
His hands lifted the katana and slipped it into his obi as he stood up. The katana secured, his hands picked up the small basket of ribbons. Long, graceful fingers pulled one out.
He couldn't remember his victims. The irony of his situation was that even now he didn't know the faces of those he had cut down. He wished it were otherwise - but wishes would never change the present.
He would just have to do the best he could. His hand took the ribbon and found a branch of the tree. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for whoemever it represented, whomever it was that was cut down in the prime of their life. And then he tied the ribbon to the tree.
The man stood in front of him. The sword he was carrying was huge, but not like his own. Strange knotwork lined the hilt, which matched that of his scabard. He was huge, standing head and shoulders above Katana's short stature. But it wasn't going to be enough - his Master had called for this man's death, so Katana had come to end him. It had long since ceased to be important to him why his Master wanted this man dead - it could have been for any reason. But he had called for his head, and so Katana would take it.
He sprang forward, moving as quickly as the wind which howled around them. The huge sword swung down towards him, towards where he was. He sprang to the side and slashed, once, his weapon cutting deeply into the warrior's side.
"Why?", asked the man as he fell.
"Because that is the way of this place.", Katana replied.
His eyes opened. One branch of the tree had one ribbon on it. There were still ribbons in his basket. He pulled another out. Another faceless victim, whose name he could not recall. He whispered another prayer to the dead as he tied it to the tree.
They were just attempting to get free. They had run from their masters, all allies of his own master. And so his master had called for their deaths. The others of the Storm were dealing with the other group - this was his. He was in amongst them in a flash, his sword arm a blur as he cut left and right, as the blood stained the grass field they had been running through.
At last, there was only one. A woman, desperately scared, stained with the blood of her companion. "Why?", asked her, as Katana moved towards her.
"Because I have to.", he replied.
Another branch had a ribbon. The man reached into the basket again and again, tying ribbon after ribbon to the tree. He spoke nothing but whispered prayers to the wind, to the ghosts that haunted him.
At last, there were two ribbons left. He picked the next to last one up and tied it to the tree, again praying to the air.
He was tired. Death after death after death, which seemed to solve nothing, which seemed to lead to nothing. Death for honor, death for his master's whim, death because death was the only answer to any question that was asked. He was on another battlefield, surrounded by death, blood filling his nostrils. He paused, no other opponent around him - all around him corpse after corpse asked a sorrow-filled question to him.
"Why?", he asked himself. The wind provided no answer.
The last ribbon was not for a whisper of a memory. It was for a reality. He pulled it out and again tied it to the tree. This time, he whispered a prayer for Lucy. "This one was not aware that you were not dead.", he whispered to the wind, "He thought that what was being done was for the best for all, including for your soul. This one is aware that he has wronged you, and he is sorrowful for that. He will do all he can to make recompense."
His basket was, finally, empty. The tree was festooned with ribbons which blew softly on the chill breeze that cut through the park. He looked at them, sadly. There was much to do. Much that needed putting right. He knew that now - too much time had been spent in sorrow.
More than the time that was spent after the duel. In a way, he had spent his entire time since he had returned from Arcadia living in the sorrow of the past, trying to redeem a sin that he could not even remember. Trying to live a contradiction - fighting for those in the present while trying to live in the past. Fighting to not kill with a weapon that did nothing but.
"Apologies are offered.", he whispered to the air, to the tree. "Living in the sorrow of the past is no longer an option. Too many people are depending on this one to protect them now. No more time remains for contradictions. Sorrow is had for the mistakes and sins of the past - if it is possible, this one will find a way to atone for what was done. But his full attentions are needed to help protect the lives around him. He will return to this tree, as often as he can. He hopes you understand."
The elemental looked up at the tree once again. He bowed at the waist, once, apologizing to the air and to the tree. And then he turned and walked away, leaving the tree with its ribbons fluttering in the wind.