The Paradise Blade (Part One - Chapter One - The Sapphire Ronin)

The field outside the Darangian Forests was littered with the corpses of the fallen. The living limped away from the battlefield where so much blood had been spilled. A moon beckoned to them in the blackened night sky. No stars shone that night, no words were spoken but the whispers of the spirits whose voices were carried to and fro with the coming and going of the blistering cold breeze.

Snow blanketed the ground, and as it kept falling, it began to enshroud the corpses whose blood dyed the snow a burgundy red hue. So much death in one night, and yet so much more seemed to be willing to follow. They had attacked the villagers again. So many sons and fathers taken from this world because of them. Even more because of tonight's short but vicious skirmish.

Anger, desperation, and pain burned in the survivors, for this was yet another night they would never forget. An endless struggle existed in these lands, one that would never end until one faction or the other was completely extinct. It would be this way for evermore. The bloodlust of this world is insatiable, and it begs and screams for more even now that the fighting has ended.

The few surviving villagers put away their blades and began to drag themselves back to their village to the warmth of their homes, knowing they have beaten death once more. Still, for how much longer? The frozen and twisted trees of the forest around them reach for them, seemingly to drag them to another hell beyond this world. The Darangian Forest has always been noted as a seemingly haunted place to all regions around and neighboring it. It's been a place of dark lore for centuries, and it's inhabitants have always been acceptable to a lot of religious and or fantasy-like rumors and stories that id not speak kindly of them.

One swordsman remains with the fallen though alone, staring up at the night sky, whispering to himself. In a environment of black and white, he wore sapphire.

" Those who dwell in heaven...why so much death?" was what the man whsipered.

The swordsman wore a long sapphire blue coat which fell to his knees, with white flames designs all across it. His hair was dark brown cut short, his eyes a inhuman ice blue, which no doctor could describe or even begin to understand or diagnose. Some from his hometown had called him the spawn of the beasts that roamed the world. Much like the ones who littered the frozen fields of the dead beside the fallen villagers where the swordsman stood. The blood of the beasts, a unnatural black dripped from the still drawn blade of the swordsman.

They had attacked unsuspectingly while the armed villagers had been travelling to the river for fresh cold water. The swordsman's black pants which were visible from the parting of the long coat, had white flames across the legs of those to, though the blood of the beasts left black specks all over the man's clothing. A deep frown set over the man's face. He had been travelling alone, when he came across the battle between the villagers and the beasts. So he had intervened and turned the tides against the beasts for they had been overwhelming the villagers slowly.

Now that the swordsman was alone once more, for the villagers hadn't even took notice of his aid, he took a deep breath and sighed and watched as the steam rose into the midnight sky. When the fighting had ceased, they had left him alone on the fields without any gratefulness but the swordsman took none of it personal. They had lost family and friends this dreadful night, gratitude would not be on their list of emotions at the point in time.

The swordsman watched them depart with newly lit lanterns to see in the dark for any ambushes set by the beasts. Many of them walked in the snow with their shoulders hunched in defeat despite their still heartbroken victory. The swordsman decided to follow them back to their village. He would need shelter for the night, it would grow much colder then it already was the deeper into the night the land passed.

The swordsman sheathed his sword, gave one more last glance up at the starless sky and then turned and began his walk to catch up to the villagers. As he walked through the snow as it drifted with the cold wind, he couldn't help but notice the flakes had grown larger, which sometimes meant a blizzard was coming.

He caught up to the slower moving members of the train of villagers and several threw questioning glances at him. One of them spoke, though his voice sounded pained, and he had several scratches across his face, one of them across his forehead that looked exceptionally deep. It bled down his face but he either didn't notice it as it flowed over his eyes or he was beyond caring.

" Young swordsman, what is your name?" asked the man.

The swordsman hadn't noticed at first from being too busy looking at the wounds and blood across his face, but the man was past even middle-age and yet he had survived the fighting somehow.

" Aasir Hitaraga" responded the swordsman and everyone looked at him strangely, several wore fearful looks at the sight of him.

" So the rumors are true then. A ronin wearing a long coat the color of sapphire travelling the land and killing beasts wherever he goes and leaving the blood of the fiends as deep as a ocean in his wake. Some say you're a hero in the purest form. Other rumors however have spoken of the betrayal of your former master" said the old man.

Aasir stiffened at the mention of betrayal, and he wondered how these villagers would recieve him from then on. He tossed the question in more then a glance at the old man who merely shrugged and laughed.

" I don't care about your past, or your reasons or none of that nonsense. I'm just grateful you arrived when you did or a lot more blood from my people would have spilled tonight" said he old man whose eyes went dark and his lips curled in a painful expression.

Aasir frowned at that, and yet he knew how the old man felt. In some ways he did anyways. Aasir stared at the sky once more, hoping for a glimpse of a star and was disappointed once again. The wind picked up tugging at his coat and some of the villagers slowed their walking to tighten their shirts and cloaks to fight against the cold.

" So where are you staying for the night stranger?" asked the old man.

" Nowhere. I was hoping I could stay in your village for the night alongside a meal if possible. A barn would do me well and thats all I need. I have no coin to pay though if that's a problem" said Aasir.

" Nonsense. You aided us tonight for nothing. I can't thank you enough for that. Some may not see that as payment for a meal and a bed but I do. I haven't forgotten my courtesy and gratitude to those who defend the weak when they cannot for themselves" said the old man with a wide grin on his face.

" I could help you bury the dead in the morning as well" said Aasir.

" That would be most gracious of you kind sir".

Aasir nodded and then he had a strange thought, the question had already crossed his mind once before but he felt he needed to ask, despite it was probably personal to the old man. How had he survived the fighting? Then caution flared and he decided to wait and ask later.

" You'll be staying with me tonight then" said the old man.

Aasir nodded, perfect.

The sight of the village came into view and Aasir seen the small shacks that passed as the homes of the vilagers. They all had chimneys made of stone but the houses themselves were made of strong and sturdy wood that could support the weight of the stone chimneys. Women and children travelled the villages streets, and wails of pain and sadness scorned the sky as the families of the fallen became aware that their loved ones would never return.

No one even noticed or mentioned a stranger like Aasir amongst their ranks. Mourning reached it's peak as the old man led Aasir to his shack passing by roaring and screaming villagers who wailed in pain at the midnight sky. Others, embraced their loved ones in prayer and happiness that they had returned alive. Aasir watched it all before the old man ushered him inside.

He shut it's sliding door closed behind him and then Aasir took a seat on a nearby stool. The home was simple, a fireplace, a table, a bed, and a enclosed window with glass.

" You have no family?" asked Aasir.

" My wife died six years ago to a sickness the local doctor couldn't heal. My son well, he died just recently" said the old man.

Aasir's eyes widened.

" I'm sorry I didn't arrive sooner" said Aasir, feeling deep with regret.

" No no there's no need to blame yourself for his death. The beasts are to blame and even then they were only doing what was natural to them. Beasts, souless animals with no heart or conscience, they were created that way so they do what is natural to them. Kill and eat. They can't be blamed, only killed" said the old man, despite grief ached in his voice.

" You make excuses for vile and vicious creatures who took the life of your son tonight?" Aasir responded in shock.

The old man walked to his bed and sat with a hard thump to it's rails that creaked under the old man's weight.

" No I don't make excuses, I only tell it how it is, and that's the truth of it all. Yes my son is gone and I will mourn that forever until it too is my turn to leave this world. Still, everything has a reason and a purpose even if we as mere people don't understand it always" said the old man.

Aasir could not believe the old man but he didn't press the issue any further. The old man cold not and would not be swayed from his type of thinking. And why should he? That was a better question.

" I have a question for you old man" said Aasir.

" Please, call me Jansae".

“ Yeah, I forgot to ask your name earlier, I apologize” said Aasir.

“ No offense taken, now what is your question?”.

" How did you survive the fighting Jansae?" asked Aasir curiously.

" Yes it is a bit strange that an old man like me could fight with young ones and survive with them as well in the thick of a bloody battle eh?" said Jansae.

The old man Jansae grinned sadly and then he spoke once more.

" I was trained as a monk when I was young just above those mountains in a temple. Well I soon grew tired of their pacifist natures and wanted adventure and action. I became a mercenary and trained as one and fought in several small battles for lords who were contesting small bits of territory. All youth wishes for adventure until they realize the blood spilling and desperation only suits a select few" said the old man with a crooked grin.

" Then what?" asked Aasir.

" Not long after I met my wife, and well I eventually settled with her and built this village from the ground up. Eventually people moved here and it became what it is today" said the old man.

" Pretty quick story".

" Yes it is, but it has had many wonderful times and many despairing ones as well. Yet through it all I have endured and I will continue to do so” said Jansae.

Aasir nodded at the finality of the old man's words, and then he stood and stared out the window at the sky once again. The old man stood up and approached a small wodden box, which when opened let out a chilly draft into the home. It was a wooden ice box and the old man lifted four decent sized brim fish out and laid them onto his table.

“ Can you cut and clean fish?” he asked Aasir.

“ Can't say I learned the trade, sorry” Aasir responded.

“ No it's alright, not many ever do or care to learn unless they have no choice. My father was a fisherman so naturally I learned a few techniques from him” said the old man.

The old man began gutting and de-scaling the fish, and when he was done, he asked Aasir to take a bucket of water that was nearby and bring it to him. Then the old man dunked the fish in the water, bringing them back out so he could put them onto the spit so he could roast them over a fire he was beginning to build with the wood nearby.

Then he produced matches and a small strange looking rock that had designs carved into and he struck the match against it and produced a flame and he lit the wood ablaze and the food began to cook finally.

Aasir sat near the fire for warmth and the old man joined him momentarily.

“ I have two questions for you?” asked the old man.

“ Ask away”.

“ Why is it your eyes are such a bright and light colored blue. That's not exactly normal I dont think” said the old man.

“ I don't know, I just have them and I consider it a good thing honestly. Makes me unique in a way I guess. I knew a man who once said it was the mark of the beasts of the world. I sometimes wonder if he was telling the truth.......Your next question would be?” Aasir responded quickly changing the subject.

“ So where do you come from?” asked the old man, noticing Aasir's hastiness to change the subject and respecting this.

Aasir thought for a split few seconds before he answered and several angry and painful thoughts warred in his mind in cpomplete chaotic disarray. He knew the old man sensed it and the old man confirmed so with the words he spoke soon after.

“ I'm sure a ronin such as yourself has reasons to lie about where he comes from but you'll find no judgement or enemy in me or anyone else in this village. So please be kind and respectful enough to answer me honestly” said Jansae.

Aasir nodded.

“ I was born on the island of Ryuzutu” said Aasir.

“ One of the islands in the Prison Island Chain” spoke the old man Jansae.

“ Yes”.

“ That must've been a painful way to grow up. In a world where the harshest of undesirables, murderer's pillagers, bandits, war criminals, and underworld tyrants held all the sway and power, the police and justice system completely corrupted as it has been told and is well known to be” said Jansae.

Aasir smiled grimly as he thought of his past on that island.

“ Yes, it was some kind of place believe me. But anyways as I was saying, my father was a war criminal from the clan wars twenty to thirty years ago. He was famous for beheading entire captured regiments of the opposing force. They called him “Headless Shendo” said Aasir.

“ I've heard that name before, at the Battle of Monku Church, he burned the church down with hundreds of government soldiers, and villagers from neighborhing villages. So that was your father eh?” asked Jansae.

“ Yep, good old dad. He was a cruel person. He beat me nearly everyday when I displeased him, he even killed my mother whom I never knew nor do I know anything about her life or her crimes to be put on that island. I was two when he murdered her. I know this because my father told me what he had done when I was ten and I asked about her. He was proud of it” said Aasir.

“ Eventually I fell into the criminal life on the islands, got mixed up in the gangs with the older men. My father was a master swordsman and he taught me, he was unrivalled on that island. He was feared by all but he never had any interest in the gangs and left them alone and they did the same for him. His teachings were brutal and I have several scars from his “lessons” Aasir said.

“ Whatever happened to your father?” asked Jansae.

“ We had a disagreement one day, I can't even remember what it was about anymore, but it led to us drawing swords. My father to punish me and me to defend myself from his anger. I bested him in that duel, and I killed him. I had done what everyother assassin in the world had failed to do. Outmatched my father in swordsmanship. I became a legend on the island from then on. I was fifteen at the time when I killed him” Aasir spoke.

“ So young to be tainted with the sin's of bloodshed” said Jansae.

“ He wasn't my first killing. As I said, I was mixed in with the older members of the gangs when I turned thirteen. I was already a killer by the time I defeated my father. After that first taste of power, I guess I became addicted to it, the power of having control over who lives and who dies. I spent the next two years in the gang I had been ritualistically recruited into, fighing and killing for them, leading raids into other gang's territories. It satisfied me for a little while” said Aasir.

“ You said ritualistically recruited into?” spoke the old man.

“ Yes, in the island the ritual to be accepted into the bloodthirsty gangs of that land, you had to bleed yourself of two pints of blood, and then when the bleeding was stopped, they had this bucket exactly two pints deep to measure. Then you had to drink it back. The gang I was enlisted into had some kind of saying. Meet death, then survive the journey or someting like that, I can't remember exactly.” said Aasir.

“ That's a bit barbaric wouldn't you say?” said Jansae.

“ In a way yes, in another, it was daring and brave. A way to prove one's strength and endurance” said Aasir.

“ Continue then”.

“ Like I said, I was satisfied for two years, then I became impatient, it felt like everytime we defeated and massacred one gang, another took it's place to claim the territory of the fallen gang. So I tried to leave the gang, it began to gow old to me, all the fighting and killing. Maybe it was my conscience that I had forgotten about, or maybe I genuinely was just tired at such a young age. The gang caught wind to my absence in their bloody battlefields and sent people to kill me” said Aasir.

“ I killed everyone they sent, then returned and wiped out everyone in my old gang. They had been the most powerful criminal presence on the island, and then I extinguished them in one night. After that, I sought a way to leave the island, and I found a way. The cargo ships that brought food and supplies to the prisoners and the legal workers both, one docked for the night and I snuck aboard and sailed my way to the mainland. I was eighteen when I touched down in the harbor of Isahaiyo. That's really all of my tale. Isahaiyo was eight years ago” said Aasir.

“ That isn't all of the tale. Just merely all you wish to speak of correct?” said the old man.

“ Indeed. I'm only twenty-six, but damn, it feels like I've lived longer then that some days” said Aasir.

“ Yes, and I don't blame you for your thinking in such a manner. I can see in your aura you have much inner turmoil. Anger, pain and sadness, it has become apart of who you are now. Maybe it can be healed. The healing must be done by yourself though, no one can completely take your pain away until you have accepted your life for the way it has been. This is nothing more then a bit of wisdom from an old man” said Jansae with a chuckle at the last part.

Several minutes later the fish was done and Aasir and Jansae split the four fish, and ate, and when that was done, they prepared for sleep. Within thirty minutes, the old man was quietly snoring and Aasir stood and walked out of the shack-home, and settled on the ground in front of the door, just staring at the skies and hoping to catch sight of a star somewhere in it's endless abyss.

It was a failure once more but still, he had thought it was worth a try. He wasn't sure why he stared up at the stars and was disappointed when he failed to spot one. He had had this dream one night while still on the island when he had been a kid. In the dream a woman he did not recognize had spoke to him.

“ When in fear or doubt Aasir, look to the stars, then look inside yourself. Everyone has a light in them even if they choose to ignore it. Look for it Aasir, find it....that light is your strength. Harness it and you can do anything” he remembered the woman saying.

Ever since that dream all those years ago, he had been obsessed with staring at the stars at night before he officially rested for the night. It was like a ritual of some sort to him. Storm clouds however were blocking the view of any illumination that may be present in the land above the earth. Aasir after ten minutes or so stood back up, and began to enter the shack when someone whispered out to him.

Aasir turned around, and seen it was a young and quite beautiful woman. She had to be eighteen or nineteen years of age. Long blonde hair, with bright green eyes. She stared into his eyes and a slight smile crossed her lips.

“ You have such beautiful eyes” she remarked.

“ I guess so” Aasir responded, not meaning to sound as blunt as he had but he was growing sleepy and in a hurry to lay down for the rest of the night.

“ Well...I guess I just wanted to thank you for coming to my families aid when they were attackd by the beasts. My older brother escaped with nothing more then a scratch on his chest and a torn shirt. I can't thank you enough for that” the woman said.

“ I appreciate your thanks. Your name would be?” asked Aasir.

“ Yanu Irrina” she answered.

“ My name is Aasir Hitaraga” Aasir replied in kind.

“ So what everyone says is true? You are the ronin they call the Heroic Betrayer?” asked the woman named Yanu.

Aaisr did nothing more then blink an extra time at the speaking of the nickname he had earned over time. The Heroic Betrayer, or The Sapphire Ronin. They were nothing more then names to Aasir, but they were a nuisance nonetheless.

“ I suppose I am”.

Yanu was still staring at his eyes obviously for she had grown silent but was intensely staring into Aasir's eyes, as if enveloped in his gaze. Aasir cleared his throat silently and she seemed to snap out of it.

“ I apologize, it's just your eyes....no nevermind. I just wanted to thank you is all. Goodnight to you Mr. Hitaraga” she said.

“ Just call me Aasir”.

She nodded and departed down one the of the small streets of the village, pausing to turn into a shack of her own. She turned around and gave him one last look before entering her home. Aasir didn't notice for he was already inside Jansae's shack and lying down on it's floor and covering up in the blanket the old man had gifted him with for the night.

Before he closed his eyes in the finality of the sleep realm, he stared out the window at the sky one last time, one last ditch effort to see a star. Failure once more. He sighed and was soon asleep as the night wore on.