Many miles away from Jun Jun’s attempted escape, a lone figure labored up the steps of a terraced mountainside in a deep green valley.

The wooden sled creaked under the weight of freshly cut stones as Taijo dragged it, scraping up the terrace steps. The shadows of evening had started to submerge the side of the mountain.

The sound of cracking brought his attention around as he took another step. The sled had broken before, he hoped it didn’t again. He grimaced as he turned back around, praying to the gods of the land and forests the sled would hold.

His legs burned from the exertion of working in the fields all day. Sweat trickled down his face and tickled when it ran down his legs. He was sure he had left at least a drop of sweat on every step. The day was humid from the morning rain and the evening sun still shone hot on this side of the mountain. His wide brimmed straw hat kept off most of it, but his upper chest and back were bronzed. His simple tunic was tied about the waist.

Taijo looked where he needed to go. This is the fourth time the second wall had to be repaired this week. How much more would it take? He took in a breath and planted his foot on the next step, continuing on. He breathed heavily, focusing on every exertion of his muscles.

Above him, at the top of the mountain was his village. The houses were nestled close to each other on an increasingly steep ridge that switchbacked to the mountain’s summit. There was only one road through town, a very narrow one that only allowed passage for two abreast comfortably. A person could squeeze past a hand-pulled cart if necessary.

As he continued trudging up the steps, he passed by the Maki family tending to their section of the terraces. Their daughter, Mika, who was the same age as himself, waved energetically at him.

“You can do it! Keep going!” She yelled at him.

Taijo just gave one tired nod. Sweat dripped from his chin.

He finally pulled the sled even with the terrace wall needing fixing. If his brother Aki was here, the task wouldn’t take nearly so long. He pulled the sled sideways onto the step, grunting with the effort. His leg muscles were shaking from the exertion. He’d be able to join the others in practice in just half an hour.

“Hurry up!” His father called. He was bent over pulling weeds from the flooded terrace.

Taijo set three stones on top of each other from the sled and picked them up. The weeding for this terrace was almost done. His father’s ability to quickly get things done still surprised him at times. Taijo waded through the terraced field with the large stones in his arms. Each was as wide as his chest and as thick as his thigh.

He looked up at the town’s dojo when it came into view. The sun’s yellow rays shone upon a few children practicing general martial drills with spears. He was missing it again.

When he came close to his father, the man quickly left his weed-pulling and picked up a bucket of clay nearby. Before Taijo could set down his first stone his father took some of the clay in his hand and smothered it over the stones. It looked like he was doing a sloppy job but Taijo knew better. He had tried himself several times before but had never succeeded in doing it to his father’s standards.

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Taijo set the stones down and they both quickly set them in place. In one smooth motion his father took the excess clay off the wall.

As they were working, Taijo noticed Mika as she ran up the steps past where he was. She only gave a wave and continued on her way. He wished he could leave as early as she did.

On his way back to fetch more stones, Taijo glanced up again at the dojo and hurried his steps despite his fatigue. At this rate, he’d never rank well and would fail the festival tests.

By the time he had retrieved additional stones and returned to his father, the shadow of night had worked its way up to the doors of the village. Taijo let his hat fall to his back and hang on its string around his neck. He could feel himself cooling off.

When they had set the last stone in place, his father finally glanced up at the dojo. The shadow of night was nearly upon it. Tools still needed to be put away and Taijo knew his father would want to finish the weeding before full darkness set in.

Taijo’s father picked up a few tools and the bucket of clay and handed them to Taijo. “The placement exams aren’t far away. You had better go practice.” His father turned back towards his weeding after lighting a lantern to work next to.

“Thank you for taking my work.” Taijo gave a short bow. He piled the tools on the sled and carried the others over his shoulders. Then he took a few deep breaths and quickly stepped up the path with the sled in tow.

He passed through the town’s gate and past the first few houses. His sled clunked and ground against the stones and the sound echoed between the buildings.

He passed by the village message board. It was a thin sheet of paper tacked across a frame. Small holes were punched in patterns over its surface. Several lamps lit it from behind, shining through the holes and making them stand out clearly. There were quite a few messages up about dangerous criminals to look out for. Those types liked to travel between small villages as there weren’t many soldiers there. Some were so dangerous they could slaughter entire towns if they wished.

“You better hurry!” Called Takuma from the open door of his house.

Taijo only waved in reply. His house was the third to the left. He pulled the sled through the door and quickly set the tools against the wall.

“You’re missing the basics again.” Said his mother lighting an oil lantern. Her hair was tied up at the back of her head and the lantern emphasized the few wrinkles on her face, making her look older than she was.

Taijo could already smell the supper she was cooking. “Yes, yes!” He said and hurried out the door. One of the tools he had set up fell over and clattered to the floor.

“You better pick that up before you go!” His mother called.

Taijo stopped himself. “I’ll never make it!” He hurried back and spent a little more time ensuring the tools wouldn’t fall over. Then he ran off again up the steps to the dojo, fighting the weak wobbling feeling he was getting in his legs. My brother barely passed the exams. At this rate he wouldn’t either. As far as his parents knew, he was doing fine.

Shun Mori, the village’s dojo master had said otherwise. “If you don’t greatly improve soon, you’ll be here another year.”

Those words echoed in Taijo’s mind. He was at the expected age to move from his village dojo to the dojo of Jaarlut. To stay another year was dishonorable and humiliating. At worst, Mori would find him unfit for Jaarlut and send him to Gresou.

Taijo stumbled. The space between the houses was dark and it didn’t help his legs felt like rice stalks in the wind.

Breathing heavily, he finally rounded the last switchback and slowly jogged through the large doors of the dojo and into the practice yard.