The following morning, Hanzo rose earlier than usual.

It was still dark in the infirmary but he could make out the silhouettes of several other denizens sleeping in rows of beds and they were snoring loudly.

That alone must have woken him.

He kicked his feet from under his blankets and set them quietly on the floor.

Bending over, he checked underneath the bed to see if his sword was there and sure enough, there it was.

It was confined in a leather holster that looked to fit the blade better than the last dingy one he had.

He snatched the sword up and fastened the harness to his waist then moved quietly through the room until he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

The sun had barely risen. The forest was still veiled in shadows with asymmetrical cutouts of the dark blue sky.

A cool, misty breeze washed over Hanzo as he stepped down and observed other surroundings, like the compact arrangement of large cabins and bathhouses standing dormant in the early hours, almost as if they were abandoned.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they were.

Hanzo spent a minute or two, touring the place, then went off through the woods to arrive on the beach again.

Flashbacks of yesterday crowded his head as he stared off into the blissful waters and moody skies emblazoned with wispy clouds.

The crouching sun filled the thin horizon with an auroral beauty as though it had spilled along the edge of the sea.

Vistas of freedom seemed to open up ahead and in that moment he sort of forgot his troubles.

He stepped to the rolling tide, grasping the handle of his sword and looked down at his reflection in the water.

Instead of drawing the sword, he sank into a squat and lifted his hands, gazing through the translucent veil at the distorted apparition that was himself.

He concentrated on the tide rushing at his feet until the surreal sensations enriched his body.

With nuanced endurance he eventually began to draw water out. It rose and assumed the form of a sphere, burbling and quivering before his eyes.

He stood up slowly, harnessing spirit through the small delicate orb that dripped and sloshed around as it moved with him.

There was little he could do to stop it from leaking but for the moment he was absolutely absorbed in this practice.

After the bubble finally disappeared, he stood there in silent wonder and seemed to observe every detail of his hand.

He’d have to try it again.

He waded deeper into the sea, glimpsing the sunrise and practiced weaving the element based on what he knew.

It was surely easier to control the water this way but he made sure not to venture out too far since he had not forgotten how he’d drowned twice already.

The warrior remained on the beach for the rest of morning exploring his newfound abilities until he was able to bring a large pearl of water up to his height.

This is it… he told himself. This is definitely it. All I gotta do is figure out how to beam this thing.

He jerked his arm and swung but the blob splashed back into the sea.

Crap… he glanced around surreptitiously to be sure nobody was watching him or sneaking up on him as most of these odd people were wont to do, then he ducked underwater and cultivated spirit pressure with both hands spaced a few inches from each other.

He felt the currents glide across his skin, accompanied by an eerie weightlessness as if he could almost vanish in place.

When he rose up he held a poor excuse for a globe in his hands and it quickly drained out of his grasp.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot up his legs and for a second he thought someone carved designs into his flesh with a fishing hook.

He shrieked in alarm, bouncing five feet into the air and throttled the space around him to oblivion with his sword.

The violent thrashing left a lasting shockwave and thereafter he fled from the sea as fast as it would allow him.

Collapsing on the beachside with a pounding heart, he looked down at his legs and saw fresh pink markings burned into his skin. Then he looked at his sword and found some weird gelatinous substance attached to pale fleshy strings sliding off of the edge.

A jellyfish…

He shook the stuff off and grit his teeth menacingly.

A freaking jellyfish. Of all the stupid little sea scoundrels…

He decided that he was done for the day and if he did resume, he’d prefer to practice his sword forms.

“Hey, Hanny!” Old man Uzai leaned over him, observing his apparent crisis. “I see you caught yourself a fine jelly! Did you know that, depending on which one ya get, you can actually use their flesh as a substitute for jam? Yep! That’s right, pal! Just make sure ya get the right one or you’ll have to spend a long time in the hospital.”

Hanzo glowered and gripped his sword. I really hate this place…

“Say…” Uzai rambled on. “You might wanna’ put some my ol’ porridge on them legs. Looks like the jellers got ya good.

Lucky you didn’t let him hang there for too long. Most types are attracted to spirit pressure and they feed off it. Makes em more powerful and sometimes they grow real big and can cut a man in half with their tentacles!”

“Shut up.” Hanzo seethed. “Just shut up.”

No longer in the mood to train, he left Uzai by himself and started walking the beach and eventually the pain he thought would last for days, nullified in the next hour or so.

By then, he was back on the campgrounds, sitting on the steps of the infirmary studying the details of his sword when Myra came along wearing modest garbs.

“Hey, Hanzo.” She greeted.

“Hi.” He said, remembering her as the random girl he was supposed to marry.

“I...I’m sorry about what happened last night. Uzai’s a real trip.”

“Yeah…” Hanzo droned. “Sorry about the...outburst.”

After a short pause, the girl shook her head and brightened up a little.

“My name is Myra by the way. Myra Mevinterach.”

“Hanzo Blackstar.” The warrior replied, drawing figures in the dirt with his sword.

“Nice to finally meet you. Uzai told us a lot about you.”

“Yeah...What’d he say..?”

“Well, he said you’re a really amazing person. He told us about how you led an army of refugees against some corrupt mercenaries off the coast and took down a general with a paper clip.”

Hanzo’s head spun in bewilderment. “Huh??”

“Oh—I mean…” Myra stuttered. “That’s what he said. I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

“An army of refugees?”

“Yeah.” The girl confirmed.

“What the heck is he talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve never led anything except a squad of dysfunctional morons and they never listened to me because I’m not even the leader type. I just do my own thing.”

“A squad of morons?” Myra asked.

“Yeah, my friends. They’re cool.”

“What makes them morons?”

“I don’t know. We’re all morons.”

“Why?”

This chick asks a lot of questions. Hanzo thought.

“Because we’re crazy. We like to go on quests way outside of our league and then act surprised when we get smacked back to Chickenville. I’m surprised none of us are dead...well, then again there is Wammy but we don’t talk about Wammy…”

Myra looked humored.

“You live in a place called Chickenville?”

“No. Figure of speech. I live in Blackleaf.”

“Uzai told me that Blackleaf is a town that was built inside of a giant oak tree.”

“Blackleaf is not a town built in an oak tree.” Hanzo barely masked the irritation in his voice. “Is that old man okay? Is he sick or something?”

“Oh, I hope not!” Myra cried. “He’s just a little old.”

A little old… Hanzo scoffed. “Why did he tell y’all all that crap if it wasn’t true?”

“I’m not sure. He likes to joke around a lot even if it puts people’s lives in danger but nobody ever died from his horsing around…”

“Was he always like that?” Hanzo started to lower his voice just in case the old man would appear by merely mentioning his existence.

“Hmm…” Myra pondered, taking her gaze to the lush trees. “People say he used to be different. Other people say he was like that since he was young.”

“What about Naomi?”

Myra seemed to freeze at the mention of the girl.

“I’m not sure. Naomi’s always been different from the rest. She hates everybody in the Caravan, especially Uzai but I never understood why. And I could never figure out why the boys liked her so much.”

“Pfft..” Hanzo spat. “I almost don’t blame her…” The last part he said under his breath. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to be raised by a bunch of fools.

“So did the old man train her?”

“He’s trained everyone but she was his personal favorite. And she was really eager to learn as well.”

“I guess she’s jealous because Uzai’s attention is focused on me now.”

“Yeah!” Myra agreed. “That sounds right!”

“As if she’s not already ahead of me...I don’t even want to be here.”

“You don’t like the island?”

“It’s a great looking place, don’t get me wrong. I like islands and beaches but this...I don’t even know how I got here. And I don’t know why I’m here. It’s kinda’ freaking me out.”

“So, you didn’t come here on your own??” exclaimed Myra.

“No. I was kidnapped by some mentally retarded giant. He made me sleep in the woods and when I woke up I was...here.”

Myra blinked in confusion. “Uzai said you sailed here on a raft , guided by the voice of your sword.”

The look on Hanzo's face told her that he did not approve of this story.

“So what really happened?” She asked.

He told the girl everything that happened since he left the village and she listened intently.

When he mentioned his encounter with Odyssey, she didn’t seem to know who he was despite his enlarged presence on the island. He described the man in vivid detail and expressed how badly he wanted to fly a ship into his face.

Myra looked both fascinated and somewhat concerned.

Even the faintest of hairs rose from the goosebumps on her skin, something that Hanzo noticed subconsciously. He didn’t tell her everything though, given that he was still trying to figure it all out for himself before babbling to some stranger who probably didn’t have the best of his interests in mind.

But who cared. He just wanted to get out of here.

In the meantime, he decided to inquire more about her and the island and she told him some cool stuff and some perplexing stuff.

Her life was relatively stable. She lived on the island and sometimes she lived on the backs of camels with the rest of the Caravan whenever they set forth into the outside world to sell and trade goods behind their wisecracking hustler, Uzai Mevinterach.

Naomi occasionally served as a babysitter for children whom she assigned hazardous tasks for her own amusement.

When the Caravan wasn’t away travelling between tavern to tavern they just enjoyed partying and fishing and swimming or whatever else.

Old man Uzai could often be found in his cabin, studying crafts and reading books and stuff. He liked to come out and impart his knowledge and collect seashells or inhale the pipe with friends or train people while at sea but that was all there was to him on a regular day.

Hanzo was hoping for more intel on the guy but Myra only knew what she knew so he didn’t press the issue for now.

“By the way,” She added. “Have you eaten anything this morning?”

Hanzo shook his head.

“What?? Why??” She cried in concern. The girl grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him off the steps.

“Hey, hey, hey. Where are we going??” He chattered.

“We’re going to my house! You need to eat!”

“I really don’t!” the warrior protested. He wasn’t sure why he was declining a good meal.

Myra dragged him to her place, which was a two story cabin not far from where they were before and a lady which Hanzo assumed to be Myra’s mother came to the door just as they arrived.

When she learned of the troublesome news, her face blanched and she ushered them both inside to have a seat at a round table in a rather warm and cozy place.

“A boy like you can’t go around not eating! You’re too thin!” The lady said. Her name was Abby and she was in fact Myra’s mother.

Hanzo was awkwardly pleased to be treated with such hospitality but he really just wanted to take some grub and head back to the beach, hopefully by himself.

Myra’s two brothers, Skyline and Grinder joined the new guest at the table and started bombarding him with questions that mostly had to do with what Uzai told them. The stories sounded even more ridiculous than what Myra told him but that didn’t stop her mother from praising him for things he didn’t do.

The morning’s breakfast was a delicious compound of semolina and dried raisins, with scrambled eggs, sausages and roasted potatoes in a separate bowl, including loaves of fluffy toast, swirling in maple syrup and butter.

What the hell? Hanzo thought. He was served the largest portions and unfortunately, he did not think he could finish it all despite how hungry he was. At least it wasn’t porridge.

The family sat together and together they prayed beneath the warm light of a beautifully crafted chandelier.

The house lady noticed Hanzo’s hands weren’t clasped but instead facing slightly upward.

He wanted to leave. Affection wasn’t something he received on the regular so he had a slight aversion to it.

For now, he completed his prayer and dug in. As the minutes passed, he was continuously asked questions about his life by pretty much everyone at the table.

He didn’t get why these folks sanctified him so much. He was just a regular guy.

A quick knock at the door caught everyone’s attention and it opened to reveal old man Uzai stepping in with a bowl of porridge.

“Hanny boy!!” he cried. “I've been looking for ya’ all morning!!”

Lady Abby welcomed the old man as did everyone else except for Hanzo. He simply continued to eat in silence.

Abby offered Uzai a seat and generous portions of food but he said he was fine. His porridge was sufficient.

“So, family,” he grinned ear to ear. “Did Hanny boy tell you about the time he fought a jellyfish?”

The young warrior suddenly began savoring the moments before the idiot entered the house.

He ate till his fill, trying not to gag on the insane tales Uzai was feeding his enthralled audience.

Turning to Myra, he asked her to direct him to the bathroom and she pointed to a blue door, deep in the far left corner.

“Is there a window?” He whispered.

She looked confused but nodded. “A small one.”

After a short pause, he added, “Do you think you can bring my sword to the front door in a few seconds? Just toss it outside if you have to…”

Realizing what he was trying to do, she nodded and went back to listening to the old man’s rambling.

Hanzo casually slipped off to the restroom and shut the door behind him. It was quite a small room with quite a small window placed above the toilet but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Throughout his early years he’d always liked to play the role of an assassin which included being able to escape through narrow spaces, producing little or no sound.

It was a bit of a harrowing stunt, but he released the latches gluing the windowpane to the sill and pulled it up.

Stepping on the toilet to grant him enough height and leverage, he tucked his head and extended both arms as he leaned through until half his body was hanging outside.

Bracing his hands against the wall he pushed himself wreand crawled free of the window at last.

Dusting his hands off in satisfaction, he veered around the corner to the front entrance where he found his blade leaning in the corner by the door.

He snatched it away and took off into the woods, back toward the beach. Crap. He grimaced. I forgot to thank them for the food. Well, it’s all Uzai’s fault anyway. That proverbial idiot ruins everything he touches.

Hanzo ran a safe distance away from the house in hopes that he’d surely gotten away. He jogged the remaining distance until he stumbled onto the luminous beach feeling relieved and satisfied.

His relief died at the sight of Odyssey staring outbound in silence.

Odyssey's long black hair swayed calmly in the wind while his eyes, which had become a dark gray color, surveyed the horizon.

“So you’re alive…” the giant said.

Once again, confounded by the broad beast of muscle it took a second for the words to register.

“Yeah, I’m alive, you idiot. Thanks for leaving me to die in the middle of the ocean.”

“Did you expect the training to be easy?”

“No, I expected you to train me, not that old, worn out piece of junk!”

“Well, on the bright side, you’ve finally learned to water weave.”

“Barely.” Hanzo hissed. “And only after literally drowning to death because that retard just sat by and watched me! So where the heck were you at, huh?”

“Busy.”

“Busy...” Hanzo remarked. “Busy doing what?”

Instead of answering, Odyssey shot him a glance.

“Tonight, you will be going on your first assignment.”

“Huh?

“If you do well, then I will train you myself.”

“What kind of assignment..?” Hanzo asked suspiciously.

“I will give you more details when I return this afternoon. Until then, use this time to hone your skills and prepare to leave the island for some time.”

The giant turned away from the sea and strode off into the forest.

“Leave the island??” Hanzo called after him for a better explanation but Odyssey was already gone by the time he finished his sentence.

The massive footprints he left in the sand filled themselves up and one by one, vanished entirely, leaving not even the slightest trace.