The castle stood, towering over the village from its position at the top of the hill. Domineering. Intimidating. Surrounded by its protective walls, the only entrance comes from the serpent-like path. Lanterns lit the path in a soft amber, ahead of the pending nighttime.

  InuShin inhaled sharply, eyes wide, staring at the hovering clouds darkening with each passing second.

  His father broke the silence. “Nervous?”

  “A little,” InuShin answered truthfully. “I just never saw a place so big.”

  His father laughed warmly. “Hai. It is what happens when you rule the island.”

  Streaks of gold, orange, and red filled the sky as the sun descended behind the castle, casting long shadows onto the village. The streets grew quieter as the villagers made their way home, and the strong aroma of sudachi and yuzu filled the air.

  As they passed the homes, Awa no Sanchiku drifted through the open windows. The savory tang of simmering meats combined with the faint smokiness of charred vegetables invaded his nostrils, causing his mouth to water.

  InuShin’s stomach grumbled. “Father, I want some of that.”

  “Tomorrow, after selling some supplies, I will buy the ingredients so we can eat back home. Is that okay?”

  InuShin nodded eagerly. “Hai. I can wait,” his smile grew, fantasizing about the different flavors. Way better than plain rice, nuts, and fruit.

  The air grew colder as they approached the castle’s entrance. The sweeping roofs clawed into the sky, its gates flanked with statues of phoenixes. Stone walls bore the weight of centuries, protecting the royal family from invasion.

  A guard stood on both sides of the gate, each stern-faced and lacquered in imperial blue and black, eying them. Both men wielded a long staff with a blade at the end.

  “State your business,” one of them ordered.

  “Blacksmith from the southern province,” his father answered. “With me is my son. We bear blades for His Majesty, forged over the last three seasons.”

  Once cleared, the enormous gates creaked open, and three more guards stood there, waiting.

  They entered the royal grounds, the gate closing behind them. The guards escorted them over to the stall, allowing them to secure Mikage for the time being. InuShin watched for a moment as she eagerly consumed some hay, replenishing her strength.

  “Thank you for everything you do.” He ran his fingers through her mane. “We will return, so rest in the meantime. When we return home, I’ll pick out some berries for you.”

  She bobbed her head slightly in response.

  With the aid of the guards, they carried the swords into the castle.

  The inside was radiant, with golden trim and polished wood. Lanterns floated like fireflies overheard, their warm glow reflecting off the polished armor.

  They arrived in the courtyard, reserved only for the most significant ceremonies and private imperial gatherings. Shielded by high, lacquered walls and framed by low, sloping eaves, the courtyard was a harmony of nature and architecture. A place where formality softened into serenity.

  At the center, stretched a wide, open expanse of carefully swept white gravel, bordered by smooth flagstones and cedarwood walkways that led out into a surrounding ring of covered verandas. These walkways framed the courtyard like the border of a painting. Perfect for observing without disturbing.

  To the east, a copse of graceful sakura trees swayed gently in the breeze, their petals occasionally breaking free and floating atop the small koi pond, occasionally disturbed by the ripple of a curious fish. The cherry blossoms’ salty-sweet fragrance mingled with the earthy scent of pine from the row of black trees that lined the southern edge, tall and ancient, casting shadows as the sun slowly vanished behind the walls.

  At the northern end, stood a low-raised platform of polished hinoki wood, covered with woven reed mats and shaded by a wide silk canopy of imperial gold and blue. Here, the Shihai sat, draped in layers of silk, his expression composed and unreadable. To his left, slightly lower, sat the Princess, dressed in a colorful uchikake and mo, her fan resting in her lap as her chestnut eyes gleamed with curiosity.

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  Gagaku music whispered from behind them from a small ensemble of court musicians seated discreetly within the shade of the veranda.

  A cleared space rested in the center, marked with short wooden posts, a perfect stage for demonstration. Here, straw tatami mats had been set upright in preparation for tameshigiri, a test cutting.

  Eight swords were presented, each gleaming with silent power.

  Shihai Satsu gestured.

  With calm, deliberate movements, a samurai stepped forward, unsheathed one of the swords, and turned to a straw post.

  With quick movements, the blade sliced into the straw as if it were nothing. Straw fell apart mid-air, each cut so precise it seemed to take time to register.

  InuShin’s breath halted. He had seen his father shape metal, hammer it into form, but never witnessed the blade’s final purpose.

  “They’re incredible,” he said, smitten with amazement. “I want to be like them…a samurai.”

  Laughter erupted nearby. One of the guards, tall with a dark braid and a scar stretched across his face, grinned smugly. “You? A samurai? You’d be better off swinging a broomstick.”

  Before InuShin could reply, another voice cut in. Low, regal, and edged with amusement.

  “Let him try.”

  All heads turned. The Daimyo had spoken.

  His father stepped forward quickly, bowing. “Your Majesty, he’s just a boy. He’s never trained.”

  “Then it is the perfect time to see what lies dormant,” the Shihai replied, his gaze never wavering from InuShin. “Better to test the iron before the fire fades. Captain Saitou, if you’re interested in testing the boy’s potential.”

  “Hai.” The Captain bowed.

  InuShin looked to his father, his heart sank as he worried about what could happen. “Father…”

  His father nodded reluctantly, eyes filled with unease. “Do your best, Shin.”

  InuShin exhaled shakily, watching the guards clear the arena.

  Another guard presented him with a wooden practice blade, and InuShin reluctantly accepted it. It felt rougher than his father’s sword, but familiar in shape. He had held enough steel behind closed doors, inspecting the weight and balance under his father’s observation, to know where his grip should fall.

  His opponent stood across from him, the scoffing guard, smirked, stretching his muscles before lifting his practice sword.

  “No hard feelings, pup,” he said. “Try to keep your footing.”

  InuShin’s heart thumped heavily, positioning the sword in the middle stance, Chūdan-no-kamae, and gripping the handle tightly, knuckles turning white.

  “Hajime,” one of the guards announced.

  His opponent dashed forward and lifted the sword high above his head, crashing it down towards InuShin’s head.

  InuShin stumbled backwards, raising his sword to block, but nothing connected. His breath quickened, noticing his opponent stood precisely where he had been standing.

  “If you’re going to be a samurai, you’ll need to learn to stand your ground. Block or deflect. Not cower.” His opponent swung again, this time horizontally.

  He stepped back as his opponent’s sword swept past, but wasn’t quick enough to lower his sword. Wood connected with wood, forcing his sword to tip and his arms to twist. His arms stung from the reverberation as he regained his positioning,

  I can’t possibly overpower him, but maybe I can use my smaller size as an advantage. He breathed out slowly and readjusted his grip, calming his nerves and returning to the middle stance.

  “Not finished, eh?”

  “No.” InuShin shook his head, relaxing his shoulders.

  “Good.” Captain Saitou repositioned his sword in front of his right shoulder, the blade extending high above his head.

  With quick movement, his opponent closed the gap once more, crashing the sword downward again.

  InuShin stepped forward at an angle, raising his sword in defense. As the wooden swords connected, InuShin spun his sword around over his head, using the momentum to carry out his counterstrike.

  A few gasps rippled from their audience.

  Captain Saitou avoided the counter and distanced himself, positioning his sword between them in a middle stance.

  “Good, there’s some potential,” he said, grinning. “But you need to be quicker than that.”

  InuShin furrowed his brows and pushed forward, sword between him and his target. He thrusted the blade forward, and his opponent deflected it, countering with a downward diagonal strike. He raised his weapon to deflect, sending shockwaves through his arms, but he maintained a firm grip.

  “Not bad for a child,” Saitou said, circling. “But don’t blink…”

  Whack.

  Pain flared in his left calf as he stumbled, off-balance, catching his breath.

  Captain Saitou paused, positioning the tip of the blade inches from InuShin’s face. “Each strike could be fatal.” He lifted his sword once more, striking downward.

  On instinct, InuShin deflected the attack, the crack echoing around them. He gritted his teeth.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  An intense heat pulsated into his chest, filling him with adrenaline and sending fire through his limbs as he steadied his grip. His breath grew shorter, sharper, and his gaze fixated on his opponent’s swift movements.

  InuShin shifted his feet, bracing for impact. Another attack from the side, and he blocked it, noting his opponent’s expression shifted, no longer mockery but in surprise.

  The energy around him shifted. No longer flailing, but fighting.

  Murmurs surrounded them from the watchful samurai, even the Shihai observed his movements intently.

  He pushed his opponent’s blade away, countering with an upward diagonal strike and forcing his opponent to stagger backward. What is this feeling? This strength?

  He stepped forward in an attempt to chase his opponent, but suddenly a sound emerged in the stillness between strikes. Soft, delicate. Did the performers get louder?

  No, this sound was different. Not like anything he’s heard before. Unknown words, mystical sounds, everything. As if from a faraway land.

  He shook his head, attempting to rid the music. To return focus on the battle. But it was too late; he froze too long.

  CRACK.

  Pain flooded InuShin’s side, sending him to the ground with a grunt. The melody vanished, like mist in the morning sun. The courtyard’s breath took its place along with murmurs.

  “InuShin!” His father ran, kneeling beside him. “Are you alright?”

  He clenched his teeth, pushing himself off the ground, his other hand pressed to his ribs. “I’m okay, nothing feels broken,” he said, though his body trembled.

  “Interesting,” Shihai Satsu spoke. “He has potential, but needs polishing.”

  Captain Saitou approached, head tilted slightly. “You’ve got speed, boy,” he complimented. “But what in the gods’ names made you freeze like that?”

  InuShin didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. Something inside him had sung, and the world around him changed, if for just a moment.