A few days later, Ryu was in his uncle’s throne room once more. Only this time, the room was full. Full of courtiers, nobles, and all the naseauting trappings of wealth and vanity. Ryu clenched his teeth. Foolishness and lies filled the air like flies, buzzing around the well-dressed men and women around him. Gods, he hated court, yet he had to be here. The announcement was going to be made. Jinn, imposing in his black robes, stood next to him.
In the back of the room, a series of steps led to a tall throne made of dark wood. Haru sat there, his tilted head propped on his fist. His sword lay propped against the arm of the throne, no more than a moment away. Instead of his informal clothes from the night before, he wore armor of metal plate and leather, all polished to a nice shine. A plain crown of black iron rested over his brow. Ryu figured he’d look more comfortable in the middle of a battlefield. It seemed they both found court life… less than appealing.
Maybe that was why Ryu was so drawn to his uncle. Haru’s nonchalance, his irreverence for tradition, the whimsical sense of danger that surrounded him as if he could explode into violence on the drop of a hat. The man scared him, if he was honest, but still, he wanted to have what Haru had, whatever it was. He wanted people to look at him the way they did Haru.
Ryu casted a glance to Jinn at his side. His father was also a man to admire. Where people looked at Haru with uneasy fear, they looked at Jinn with respect. Ryu watched him mingle, watched him clap a man on the back, and watched him make a group beside them laugh. That was Jinn. In his presence, the awkwardness went away. Ryu could laugh and crack jokes right back at the man. But when his dad was gone, Ryu found he didn’t like to talk and mingle. He did not like idle conversation, and even if he had, he would not have been very good at it. Witty replies were few and far between, leaving him to think of replies hours later.
He looked back to Haru. The man stood alone, a wolf in a pack of sheep. That’s what Ryu wanted. Time passed, and the crowd in the room settled by either side of the room, leaving a middle lane open that ended at Haru’s throne.
After a moment, the herald at the foot of his uncle’s throne cleared his throat loudly. The crowd quieted. “Announcing Sir Ishida Fuji of the East Valley branch to speak to Lord Ishida,” he called in a strong, clear voice. A man stepped before the throne, sweat glistening on his balding head. He wiped his brow and nodded nervously.
“Greetings, milord. My branch seeks for additional forces to help fend off the monster waves that descend from-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Haru said with a yawn and a wave. He pointed to the group of white-haired men and women in official robes at his left. “Talk to the elders. We have more important matters to get to today.”
“O-okay,” the man said, bowing. He waddled back into the crowd.
Haru stood. “Councilman Aizawa, how long have we been without a Sword?”
“Close to twenty years, my lord,” the elderly man said, tugging on his gray beard.
“So it would be about time for another, no?” he asked.
“Indeed so, milord. In fact, the council and I have already prepared a list of names for-”
Haru shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. You see, I’ve already made my decision,” he said, turning back to face the audience. “For far too long, House Ishida has been without a Sword. Our enemies surround us. The other houses nip at our sides like the dogs they are. No more. Ishida Ryu, step forward.”
Ryu marched forward, wiping the awe from his face. It was the most majesty he had ever heard in Haru’s voice. The sudden intensity unnerved him.
Haru spoke once more. “Ryu, I’ve decided to elect you as the Sword candidate of House Ishida. Do you accept?”
Haru made it sound like a statement, not a question. Still, this was all Ryu had wanted. All his father had wanted. “Yes, milord,” he said, dropping to one knee.
“Very well, then,” Haru said, and he walked down the stairs until he stood above Ryu. He held his sword in one hand. “Do you swear to protect and honor this House as if it were your own family?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Do you swear to devote your very life to this position and to uphold its integrity?”
“Yes, milord.”
“Let all present hear his answers. May the man who breaks this oath be a broken man,” Haru said, his eyes taking on a particular glint at the final words. The tip of his sword came to rest below Ryu’s left eye on his cheek, the metal cold on his skin. “Today, you bleed for House Ishida for the first time. It will not be the last.”
The sword cut deep, and a cut appeared under his eye, weeping tears of blood at its edges. “Thank you, milord. I’m honored,” Ryu said, gritting his teeth.
Haru turned, his large sword held over one shoulder. He waved without turning around. “Court dismissed,” he called, walking back to his throne.
---
“I’m proud of you, son,” Jinn said, stitching the cut on Ryu’s face. Oath wounds were not allowed to be healed by a Skill, or so some long dead man had said.
“Thank you,” Ryu said through the leather belt he had clutched in his teeth. Another wave of pain washed over from his face, and he bit even harder. Pain relievers were also not allowed. In the Red Sun Faction, there was always some tradition, he was coming to find out.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Jinn asked, dabbing lightly at his face with a rag. “All the resources of House Ishida will be at your disposal. You will advance in no time, my son. You might even hit level forty!”
“Uncle Haru is a Master Class,” Ryu muttered. In the whole first Ring, only thirty Master Classes existed, and of those, close to a dozen were nearing the end of their lifespan. To have such a monster as their leader was enough to set them far above the other houses of the Red Sun.
Jinn frowned, the expression out of place on his face. “Haru was the Sword candidate at one point in time too, if I recall correctly.”
“So he told me.”
“I suppose he would,” Jinn said, standing with a shake of his head. The smile returned to his face. “Now, I think your appointment calls for a celebration, no?”
“Indeed, it does,” Ryu said, standing with a smile. They were in their apartments in the house castle, the richly decorated rooms full of all sorts of comforts. Despite the luxury, Ryu knew Jinn would want to leave for their own estate soon. He had never much liked the castle, although he was raised within its halls.
A knock sounded on the rich wood of their door. Jinn turned to it, annoyance wrinkling his brow. Hated nothing more than an interrupted celebration, did Ryu’s father. With a sigh, he walked to the door with heavy steps. Both knew what this was about.
The door opened to reveal a servant in plain robes. “Lord Ishida summons you to his quarters.”
“Of course he does,” Jinn muttered, looking back at Ryu with a weak smile. He turned to the servant. “We’ll be there shortly.”
He closed the door with a sigh. Ryu felt the same. He was tired and ready for the day to end. Let the Sword candidacy start tomorrow. Let him have his rest today. It seemed Haru wasn’t the waiting type, however. More’s the pity.
They walked to Haru’s chambers in awkward silence. Jinn’s usual humor had faded, leaving only a sad look across his face. Ryu reached for the door, but his father’s hand closed upon his.
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“Son… Tell me our code,” he said.
Ryu looked at him curiously. “Uh, okay. Respect both the living and the dead. Never strike an opponent from behind. Never use deceit to win a battle of skill. Speak with honor and fight with it even more so. Take a life only in the most dire of situations. Resist temptation. Always have integrity, respect, courage, honor, compassion, and sincerity.” His father’s- and his, he guessed- code was an old thing, one considered an outdated remnant of an old time. His father disagreed. Honor, he’d said, never aged.
Jinn nodded. “Remember that. Always,” he said, and then he opened the door to Haru’s chambers. A servant met them in the sitting room, bowed, and gestured for them to follow. Guards stood at every corner, although it was unlikely that anyone would attack Haru. And if someone did, it was doubtful the guards could help. Still, the guards watched them closely, as if hoping they would try something.
The servant finally stopped in front of a bamboo and rice paper screen. She bowed once more and slid it open, revealing an indoor training room. Haru stood in the center of it, his pale sword held in both hands. He was moving through sword forms, coiling and striking like a viper. Ryu’s breath caught in his throat. The man’s movements were like art. It was the smoothness that came only from years of practice, and Ryu suddenly felt inadequate.
Beside him, Jinn cleared his throat. Haru stopped, turning to look at them. He smiled.
“Care to spar, brother?” he asked.
“Afraid I wouldn’t be much competition for you,” Jinn said with a tired sigh. Ryu frowned at the lack of his uncle’s honorific.
Haru walked to a bench, grabbing a towel to dab at the sweat on his neck. “No, I supposed not,” he said. He turned to Ryu. “How’s the Sword candidate feeling this afternoon?”
“Good, milord,” Ryu said with a bow.
“Good, good. Well, I suppose we shouldn’t be idle then. Jinn. My brother. You’ve done a fine job raising the boy, truly, but he’s the Sword now. My Sword. Always has been in a way. You’ve started the forging, and it’s time for me to finish it if he’s to be truly dangerous. I hope you’re not opposed to his,” Haru said, a smile stretching across his face.
Jinn’s eye twitched, but his expression didn’t slip. “What do you have planned?”
“Nothing too specific. A Trial to start, let the lad get his Class, and then see what’s next.”
Jinn seemed to deflate. “I suppose that’s not too bad,” he said.
Ryu frowned. What was Jinn worried about? Haru was his uncle. It wasn’t as if he’d kill him.
“Well,” Haru said, stroking his chin. “He would be going alone.”
“What? Do you want him to die?”
Ryu shook his head. “Father, do you have such little faith in me? I can do it.”
“Ryu, stay out of this. Please,” Jinn said. Ryu bristled. He was seventeen, more than old enough to hold his own.
“I don’t suppose you’ve told him, have you?” Haru interrupted, giving his sword a lazy twirl.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Jinn’s jaw was clenched.
“I doubt he’d see it that way,” Haru said with a laugh.
Ryu sighed. It seemed it was too much to be included. He was being treated like a small child. “Someone tell me something, or I’m walking out, consequences be damned,” he said.
“Go on Jinn. Tell the boy,” Haru mocked.
Ryu’s father rubbed his forehead. “Gods, but this was a mistake. Fine. Ryu, I suppose I should’ve told you this long ago. I’m not your father. Not biologically.”
Ryu’s brain seemed to stutter for a moment, questions whirling through his mind. He could only force one out. “W-what?”
“Oh, this is going to be awkward,” Haru said, seeming to take joy in the situation despite his words, “Some time ago, I was involved with a woman. Your mother. She got pregnant. I wasn’t willing to marry. Long story short, my good brother Jinn couldn’t allow his nephew to be a bastard. To let such dishonor stain our family. This was after I killed our father, mind you, so things weren’t exactly great between us. He married her. Raised you.”
Ryu paused. His brain worked through his uncle’s- his father’s, he guessed- words. “That was pretty shitty of you,” he blurted out.
Haru laughed. “Yes, I suppose it was. If it makes me look any better, I tried to get you back later, but Jinn didn’t want any part of that.”
A hand landed on his shoulder. Jinn’s. “I’m so sorry, Ryu. I really am,” he said, his voice thick with sadness.
Thoughts swirled through his mind, but he tamped them down. “It’s okay,” he muttered. Ryu looked at Haru. “I’ll do this Trial. Alone. But you won’t be my father.”
He walked out of the room. Jinn followed.
“So you raised me to kill him, did you?” Ryu grunted, hoping the shadows of the hall disguised the tears leaking from his eyes.
“Son, it’s not like that. I swear. I want you to be Sword, so you can achieve the things I never could,” Jinn said.
“Don’t… Don’t call me that. Not right now. And don’t give me that shit. You don’t know what I want. Since I was little, my ‘goals’ have only been to serve the House. With honor, of course. Can’t forget that.”
“If you think killing a man can bring happiness, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. No matter your father, your last name is Ishida,” Jinn said, his usual humor hid behind a cold mask.
“Stop,” Ryu said. His heart felt like it’d been pierced by a dozen blades, yet he was somehow alive, his lifeforce pouring out from him. “You’ll get what you want. I will kill him. One day.”
“No good can come from ill means, Ryu. Is this the life you want to live? One devoted to violence and hate.” Jinn shook his head.
“Says the man who taught me to fight. Who put a sword in my hand. Look at Haru. That life is in my genes. I’ve been drawn to it, as sure as if I was iron and it a magnet.”
They stopped outside the door to their chambers. Jinn sighed. “You’re right. It is my fault. There are hundreds of ways to kill a man and even more ways to befriend him, yet we make arts of the former and avoid the latter. Somebody has to break that cycle. Has to change it,” he said.
“How?” Ryu choked out in an ugly snarl. Tears stained his cheeks. “With hugs and smiles? With good deeds?”
“Don’t reckon there’s a man alive who lost sleep over a good deed, Ryu. Can’t say the same for the other kinds.”
Good deeds seemed far away. Everything seemed far away. In the hollow pit he called a heart, a single, childish emotion stirred. It was the desire for things to return to the way they had been. Before Haru. The man would have to die. Jinn would accept it. Ryu would show him it was right.
---
Ryu went down the steps, grimacing at the crowd around him. He’d found out over the last month that the Sword candidate couldn’t do anything. He had to announce it, let all the major political factions in the House congratulate him, and then do it. With the assistance of a dozen servants. It was enough to make him want to go to the Trial. To be alone. Thankfully, that time was coming.
In his mind, he recounted the things he knew about Trials. Like Dungeons, Trials were realms connected to the Rings that challenged those who entered. Where Dungeons had a single entrance that was tied to a physical point in the world, Trials could be entered by multiple groups at one time through the use of Trial Stones, small rewards given by the System for completion of Quests.
He tugged on the straps of his bag at the thought, running through his mental checklist again. Water, healing pills, rations for a few weeks, a dagger, his sword, and a good set of matches. He had it all. Except for rope. Why didn’t he have rope? Jinn would have reminded him, but Jinn was gone, summoned back to their estates by an emergency. Ryu hadn’t gone with him. The thought made him regretful, but that wound was as raw as it'd ever been. Jinn said he did not want violence. Violence was all Ryu knew, the only solution he'd ever need. He would do the right thing. He would reform the life they once had. Without Haru.
Haru stood in the center of the courtyard Ryu was entering. He was in his formal armor once more, but if anything, he looked casual. He smiled at Ryu, giving him a lazy wave. Ryu scowled. The lord of House Ishida had approached him several times for “training”, but he had refused. And Haru had let him, strangely enough. He hated the man in a way, but it was a childish thing born more of their similarities than differences. Something in him knew that deep down, he and Haru were the same. That they were constructed from the same cloth. It frightened him, making his hate a harsher thing. Could he really end up like such a man? Not if Haru was dead.
He remembered his vow to kill Haru, the rage he felt at the time. Yes. He could end up like such a man, so he avoided the lord. It seemed he no longer could, however.
“So you’re ready then?” Haru said, tilting his head.
“I suppose,” Ryu said stiffly.
Haru stepped in close. Too close. “Be wary of what part of you your Skill claims, my son. And be careful. It's unlikely, but you might meet others in there. And Trials... Well, they don't exactly promote allying, if you understand my meaning."
“I’m not your-”
Ryu was cut off by the sound of the herald's cry. “Today, we sent off our young Sword candidate, Ishida Ryu. He will be facing a Trial, one of the dangerous alternate realms attached to the Rings. In accordance with this event, Lord Ishida has a message.” The servant bowed towards Haru.
Haru stepped away from Ryu with a grin. “Strength,” he said, drawing his sword. “It is the foundation of a House. Twenty years ago, I landed in the lord’s chair due to my strength. Today, a new generation makes their first steps towards their own power. Ishida Ryu, will you enter this Trial?”
“Yes, milord,” Ryu forced out through gritted teeth.
“Very well, then. May the Ishida name carry you far. Gain the strength to make your world right” he said, and a stone appeared in his hand. He slammed it into Ryu’s chest. The courtyard disappeared.
He hit the ground on his back, the air rushing out of his lungs. He looked around. Leafy boughs hung overhead. Humid, thick air filled his lungs between wheezes, and he rolled onto his hands and knees. His head spun. Damn, but did he hate teleporting.
He stood on weak legs, trying to ignore the smell of rotting vegetation and… carrion? Something smelt of death, he knew that. He looked around him once more and saw nothing. Just a trail that ran through the shady trees. Ryu started to walk toward the trail with a sigh, passing by a strange clump of moss.
The moss moved with a strange click. He hopped away, his befuddled senses humming a warning of danger. He shook his head. His sword came free of its sheath. Its weight in his hand comforted him. The moss moved again, and he realized it wasn’t moss. It was a pile of bones and rotting flesh, the moss growing over the decaying body. The thing shambled to its feet. Its head- or skull, rather- was that of a jungle cat, its vacant eye sockets seeming to stare straight at him.
Ryu wasn’t stupid. He hit it. The heavy sword chipped bone, but the monster paid it no mind, shambling towards him with a strange rush. Wendigo. The word came to him in a moment, and he remembered his brief read through the house’s records of the Trial. He considered briefly that he should’ve paid more attention. Then he dismissed the thought. He was going to win. He had to.
His sword broke a rib. Cracked a collarbone. Skidded off the side of the thing’s skull. All the while, it never flinched or retreated, only marched in that odd shamble. Ryu, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. For each step the beast took, he was forced to take two back. Until he slipped, that was. Couldn’t do much stepping from his back.
He cursed the root of the tree he stumbled on. Damn thing was probably having a good laugh at him, too. A stupid boy falling on his ass in the middle of some foreign jungle. Then the wendigo fell on top of him, its biting fangs inches from his vulnerable throat, and he could no longer spare a thought for the root.
His hands pressed against the scrap of flesh that was the thing's throat. His sword lay discarded somewhere in the vegetation around him. He wished he had it. Wished he had anything to keep this damn monster off of him. More’s the pity. He shoved and bucked, throwing the beast off of him. For a beast that was mostly bone, the thing was terribly strong and heavy. It tried to rise to its feet. Ryu was faster. He stood, and his boot came down on the creature’s skull. Again and again, he stomped, leaving the skull shattered into fragments of bone. It quit moving.
They had eradicated most of the monsters on the First. It was a shame, really. This was exhilarating. Easy, even.
A small Qi crystal dropped from the air. He grabbed it and squeezed. The small blue crystal shattered, and energy trickled into him, spreading down his hand like cool water. He smiled. Then he laughed. His Class was that much closer to being real. He kicked the wendigo’s body once more, giving it a final fuck you. Ryu always won.