literature

Ronin: Death

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Literature Text

23 years.

For twenty three years I stayed with old Haroshiro. His stories never ended. Every tale taught me something about him and his strange culture. The sense of honor among these people never ceased to intrigue me.

Of all the things he talked about, he never once asked me about my past or what I really was. I found comfort in that fact.

One night in the winter of 1068, old Haroshiro did not rise from his bed. I would always wait in the common room, waiting for tea and stories. This time, I went to him.

He laid there, half awake and coughing in dry heaves.

"I am dying, Ronin."

It was a statement I was most unfamiliar with. My eyes contorted in confusion.

Haroshiro coughed again, this time he spit blood into his washbowl.

"You must understand, Ronin. I am not like you. I am old and will soon leave this world."

The truth put my mind in a frantic state. What would I do without his tales and legends to keep me company?

I pulled a small vial from my pouch that glowed with a bluish liquid.

"You don't have to die, Haroshiro. You can live. You can live as long as I do. Just drink."

I put the glass tube in his small fragile hands. He held it for a moment, staring into the blue infinity that illuminated from within. Then he put the vial aside.

"Thank you, Ronin...for listening to me...all these years. I have...taught you all I know of honor...and justice. Keep me alive with remembrance, not potions."

I stared at his withered body, thin and sinking away into the earth below. I picked up the vial and put it back into its pouch.

"Take whatever you want and leave...leave me to die without shame."

I did not question him. I turned slowly and left the room. There was only one thing he had that I wanted. The sword. Before he was a slave, he was a great craftsman of blades. He forged this one with a specific purpose...to defeat any opponent.

The blade shined in a way that steel never does. I could feel the power within waiting to be unleashed. I put it in the sheath for now and would examine it later.

I took the sword from the wall where it hung and left the home of the only friend I ever knew.

I stood out in the street, pondering where I amy go next. I have seen the Persian Empire, and I knew all the tales and legends in the Far East. There weren't many places left for me to go. It was then that I decided to go somewhere I had not been in over 200 years.

I was going home.
This is a short sequel to the intro story of Ronin.

I am writing one more part to the story before the RP begins.
© 2007 - 2024 obi-wan8403
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