Naomi sat cross legged on her bed holding Hanzo’s sword at eye level. She gazed into the emerald gemstone at all of its luminous features like it contained an entire world inside.

She appreciated the bold archaic designs sculpted on the surrounding black steel and how they tapered off to form the thick beveled blade.

Where did he even get this from? She thought, pointing the tip at her desk to study the width.

When she swung it, she could feel its power flare up, realizing that if she wasn’t careful, she could split her dresser in half without the blade even touching it.

The sword could easily fetch a couple thousand dollars. Maybe even more than that.

She closed her eyes, straightening the blade and began summoning her adrena like a slow burning flame. She channeled the energy through her arms into the black sword, performing all methods of meditation Uzai taught her.

Moments passed in darkness without any result.

Then, a rather faint outline barely visible to anything beyond the imagination began to assume the form of the black blade.

The suspended aura gradually became more opaque until it seemed visible to her inner eyes.

Her energy seemed to travel beyond her physical body, walking toward the apparition to grasp the glistening emerald jewel planted therein.

It was at that moment the gemstone flared in the darkness. Ethereal green flames vanquished the sword in a flash and disappeared back into nothingness.

Naomi opened her eyes with a start.

She hadn’t expected that, no more than her ability to summon the weapon in her subconscious.

The physical blade was still in her hands of course but she looked at it anew.

So you won’t give me your power, huh?

She thought in acquiescence.

She set the black steel aside, then rose to her feet and left her bedroom.

In the meantime, Hanzo had resumed his training with Uzai although he was still anxious over the absence of his sword.

He stood in the ocean holding a large bubble of water in front of him.

The gelatinous globe dripped through his palms as it struggled to retain shape.

Uzai sat by watching and nodding his head.

“Now move it around with your arms. It will help you get used to controlling the element from different angles. It also helps improve your ability to manipulate it from a distance.

Hanzo didn’t understand so the old man got up to demonstrate. He gathered water in his palms and assumed different stances, carrying the bubble with him like a ball.

The boy followed his instructions but his efforts were a little wonky.

It wasn’t long before the sphere spilled back into the waves and left his hands empty.

He summoned more water into his palms and tried again, keeping his movements steady and decisive much like the sword forms he often practiced.

“There ya go, pal!” Uzai said. “Always make sure your whole body is involved to keep the flow of energy. You’ll learn soon enough how your regular training will go hand in hand with your elemental training. For now, just keep practicing until you get better at it. Maybe later I’ll show ya’ a special chambering technique.”

Hanzo went on with drills as he was advised but there were still other things on his mind.

“I think I need to go back to Skerratic.” He said.

The old man, who was picking his teeth, stopped to respond.

“Skerratic? Why’s that pal?”

“I think I left my sword there. The soldiers might have taken it though.” He admitted with dread.

“Oh, well that’s too bad!” Uzai said.

“What do you mean that’s too bad??” Hanzo yelled.

“Well, it's too bad your sword is gone, probably sitting somewhere collecting rust. Poor thing.”

Hanzo shook his head and kept on with his water drills. This old man was no help.

“Well, you could ask Naomi if she saw your sword. She likes to hang around Skerratic quite often. As a matter of fact, she was carrying around a sword this morning that looked just like yours!”

Hanzo squeezed the ball of water and hurled it at Uzai.

The old man ducked with a frightened yelp and the sphere hit the beach with an explosion.

“You clown!!” Hanzo shouted. “All this time, you knew where it was??”

“Easy now, Hanny boy.” Uzai chuckled. “There’s no reason to get upset. Look on the bright side! Naomi will keep it nice and safe for you until you’re done.”

Hanzo balled his fists, trembling with anger.

He glanced in the direction of her house, thinking of marching over there to get it back but with a sudden change of mind he waved it off.

“Forget it. I’ll deal with it later. Let’s just keep training.”

And so he did.

The minutes forged the hours he spent practicing and the old man noticed that his focus had improved now that his mind was no longer preoccupied.

There was also the fact that he’d just thrown a large bolt of water at him which he shouldn’t have been able to do so soon.

Uzai looked to the crater in the sand behind him and nodded his head knowingly.

“You still haven’t told me about that book.” Hanzo grumbled, sculpting a levitating globe with one hand.

His muscles were starting to ache. These little exercises were quite taxing.

“Well you know, Odyssey does enjoy reading books. He probably sent you to get it because he’s way too large to be stomping around through the city!”

The water orb quivered madly and spilled back into the receding tide.

Hanzo sighed, and walked out of the ocean, itching his scalp.

Little did he know, the water followed him back on the warm sand.

Uzai checked his imaginary watch. “Looks like it’s about time for lunch!”

Hanzo didn’t even eat breakfast. In fact he struggled to remember the last time he’d eaten at all.

However, his appetite dwindled as soon as Uzai suggested porridge for the day’s meal.

“Don’t you ever eat anything else??” Hanzo cried.

“Of course! I’ll have you know, Naomi sure makes a mean lobster stew!”

That sounded good, so long as it wasn’t laced with poison.

He was almost willing to take the risk.

“Sit tight, Hanny boy.” Uzai said eagerly. “I’m going to go ahead and cook us some porridge. We’ve got plenty to go around.”

“I can see why!!” Hanzo shouted angrily.

The old man whistled a happy tune as he collected his things and rushed off to the kitchen hall to get started.

He left Hanzo with the mysterious book in hand. He stared at it for a long time before he suddenly remembered that his sword needed to be rescued from Naomi’s lair.

He wrapped The House Of Swords up in his worn out jacket and set it under a tree before he set off.

Once he reached the cabin, he observed greater caution as he went on the deck and approached the door.

He tried the knob but it was locked.

Damn it!

He was stumped. For a moment he considered kicking the door down but he had another idea.

He grabbed a dagger he found lying on the deck and jumped off.

The cabin had four large windows. Two in the front, one on the right side adjacent to the first two and one in the back where her bedroom was.

Hanzo snuck off to the back of the building where he was less likely to be seen and saw that the window was ajar.

The hard part was trying to determine if she was inside or not. He did not want to poke his head inside and get a knuckle sandwich.

He picked up a small rock and threw it at the glass pane and waited for a reaction.

Several moments passed. Nothing happened.

The sleuth checked his surroundings one more time and then he slowly peered into the dark room.

He suddenly felt strange looking into a girl’s room, so he resolved to get in and out as quickly as possible.

He raised the window a bit more and climbed inside with his new dagger at the ready.

To his delight the black sword was propped up against the bed frame.

He grabbed it and backed out of the window, pulling it back to its original position. Not that it would make much of a difference, seeing that he left a trail of footprints in the soil.

That seemed to be the answer to why there was no grass in her yard.

Hanzo rushed away from the cabin and frolicked into the woods with glee.

From there he hacked a path through the relentless bushes and overgrown leaves until emerging on the beach again.

If I have to keep going over there… he thought. I’m going to set her house on fire.

After a lengthy jog across shore, Hanzo returned to the area he departed from and to his satisfaction, he found that Uzai had yet to return with the porridge.

It was probably best that he took his time.

For the time being, Hanzo unraveled his jacket and reclaimed the sturdy book once more. Had it been meant for him to read?

If so, then why couldn’t he open it?

It occurred to him that the mysterious samurai man must’ve done something to seal it shut.

Stranger yet, he still did not know how Naomi had gotten ahold of it.

No matter how bloodthirsty that girl was, she simply wouldn’t last a second against the man.

The only logical conclusion he could come to was that the foreign warrior had simply been bamboozled.

The hairs on Hanzo’s neck stood up in a fright.

His knees buckled as the sky spun and he fell down on solid rock at the edge of a pointed cliff.

The entire ocean was vanquished by mountainous regions, heavy winds and thick pines shooting up toward swirling white clouds.

The young warrior hugged the book to his chest and scrambled away from the ledge.

He stumbled several times, startled by the abrupt change of scenery until a large imposing figure stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was Odyssey with all of his frightening characteristics nearly blending in with the massive sequoias.

Hanzo’s knees shook in his presence although the man did not look particularly upset.

His waist length hair swam in the chill breeze with his brown sleeveless tunic and torn trousers ironed against his gargantuan musculature.

Hanzo’s bewilderment morphed into fascination for he was reminded that he had never met anyone as powerful and imposing as this great warrior.

“What are you doing..?” Odyssey rumbled.

Hanzo raised his brows in absurdity.

“What the freak do you mean what am I doing??!” He shouted, pointing his sword at the giant. “How do you expect me to act when you keep summoning me at random?? Just who in the hell are you anyway??”

Odyssey simply looked upon the flustered young man with placid indifference.

“He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared.”

He said, extending a large veiny hand.

The profundity of those words sounded baffling to Hanzo’s ears and he did not know why the man was reaching out to him.

Then he remembered the book.

He passed it to him, astounded by how small it looked in comparison to his thick fingers.

The giant popped it open with as much effort as it took to open a can of soda.

It was almost comical watching him read through something so tiny.

He leafed through the pages with his thumb, narrowing his eyes perhaps to see the text better or because he was acknowledging something.

“What is that book all about anyway?” Hanzo asked, rubbing his arm as a gale of chill wind flushed through his stained white tunic.

The giant slammed it shut and tucked it behind his rustic brown belt.

“It’s just a book about swords.”

“Well, obviously! But why were so many people after it? The guy I met last night told me it was some kind of weapon.”

“This book is a form of highly advanced steganography. The illustrations depict a variety of soul weapons and their whereabouts are listed in the text.”

“Stega—what?” Hanzo frowned.

“The practice of hiding information or even objects within something.”

The giant explained.

“Oh.” Hanzo said, feeling waves of weariness pass over him. “What kind of weapons are they looking for?”

“Several, particularly the ones hidden in this book.”

“I see. I would ask why but I don’t even think I want to know.”

Odyssey seemed to smile at his disciple’s unrefined attentiveness.

Reclaiming the landscape with his eyes, he pivoted his bouldering frame and walked into the trees, beckoning Hanzo to follow.

The last traumatic change of scenery was still fresh on his mind and he feared it would happen again. He followed behind reluctantly.

Beams of sunlight bled through the clouds and punched through the great trees, casting rows of shadows over the endless rug of rusted pine needles.

Odyssey walked soundlessly despite his size, hardly frightening any more than a few birds and squirrels.

The raking scream of a dragon went off in the distance.

Hanzo felt his hair rise again, gazing through the trees to the blue tinged mountains.

The noise echoed quite a distance but it sounded closer than it actually was.

“So uh…” Hanzo began. “Where are we going?”

“How is your training?” Odyssey asked.

This guy…Hanzo thought.

“I can move some water around a little bit.”

The man said nothing else for a while. They walked on through serene and thought provoking lands belonging to no one.

“Where are we?” Hanzo asked. “This place is similar to the others I was summoned to before.”

“Montano.” Odyssey replied.

“Montano?!” Hanzo yelled. “That’s like a thousand miles from where I live!”

The giant didn’t say anything.

It seemed he was not in the mood to talk.

They walked through the slopey pine wilderness for quite some time, passing over small streams and dark jutting rocks, plateaus and beyond.

Odyssey stepped over great fissures that Hanzo had to jump over and keeping up with him was quite a task in itself.

At nearly a mile mark in the forest, Hanzo couldn’t help but wonder where on earth he was going.

It was otherwise an enjoyable trek through nature which he rather hoped wouldn’t end too soon.

It reminded him of the first time he set out into Vallhans Valley, all alone with nothing but that cheap short sword he’d brought from a thrift store two years ago.

He remembered the old warped wood shacks with the harsh chimney smoke and the large, horned dragon skulls mounted above mahogany doors with rusty golden hinges.

He didn’t encounter anyone but wild animals and man-eating beasts the further he went in. In some ways, it was a sort of gateway into the world beyond.

The strange buzzards perching on upstood swords and wrecked campsites served as a grim reminder of just how dangerous the valley really was.

It was a reckless move but he thought it was necessary at the time because he was flat broke and the only way to get some good money was to slay the Shakaraba.

He never did find the Shakaraba. It probably didn’t even exist.

Instead, he found something else; a massive bear almost the size of Odyssey, galloping toward him at startling speeds.

Hanzo didn’t remember much of that battle, if he could even call it that. It was a one sided ass whooping from a beast no gun or sword could kill. All it took was a single paw to send him airborne.

He tried to assuage his ruined pride with the fact that he at least managed to escape certain death without being hopelessly crippled.

Some time after he’d woken up in a bed of collapsed rock below a ledge, he continued wandering through the never ending landscape, searching for the nearest sign of civilization.

He was completely lost.

Hours of nothing but roaming through woods and lurking dangers finally brought him to the stream where he met the hooded man with the black sword and finally, Odyssey.

It was baffling to think about how he’d ventured off just to earn enough money to go to soldier camp and wound up in the custody of this war era behemoth.

Maybe he was the Shakaraba the townspeople spoke of. The wanted poster illustrations were a bit grisly and dramatic but perhaps they weren’t that far off.

Nah. Hanzo thought. He seems too civilized to be some monster who just terrorizes villages.

And yet, a man with such murderously raw strength and staggering size couldn’t be called anything less than a monster.

He would have easily snapped that bear’s neck.

Hanzo chuckled at the thought.

At that moment, the giant stopped walking.

Hanzo jumped with a start, almost colliding with his heel.

The titan looked upon castle ruins at the top of a hill surrounded by trees.

The beige structures stood against the sky, weathered and bare as skeletons, green mold stuck to the base of its surface with vines crawling about.

There was an entrance crowded by tree branches, a low arch leading into darkness.

“For today’s training, I want you to go in that castle tower and bring me the sword inside there.”

Hanzo glanced at the man sideways.

“Ok, what are you not telling me?”

“The longer you take, the more problems you’ll run into.”

Hanzo clenched his teeth in frustration but he said nothing.

Fine. He grumbled.

After tying his boot laces, he started down the slope into the bushes and trees.

The titan crossed his beefy arms and closed his eyes pensively, leaning against a large tree as the lad disappeared from view.

There was somewhat of a forgotten path ascending the hill that led to a set of dislocated stairs made of stone.

Hanzo propelled himself along the path until he reached the entrance, finding it to be quite large.

He moved into the darkness quietly, not wanting to disturb any creature that might be lurking about.

As his eyes began to adjust, he found that it wasn’t as dark as he thought.

He looked around feeling more uneasy.

Old suits of armor lined the walls, indifferent to the rust and cobwebs they collected over the ages.

Some however were missing from their posts, leaving empty platforms here and there, making the atmosphere even more disturbing.

A large spider scurried into the helm of one of the metal soldiers as Hanzo walked past as if purposely contributing to his mounting anxiety.

He picked up the pace, reaching a set of immobilized iron doors left ajar.

He squeezed through the tall opening into a larger room with several embrasures in the walls allowing light to pass, thereby relieving his senses for a while.

Old broken shelves, torn, unreadable books, crates, furniture and other wares were strung about in a semi orderly fashion but ultimately forgotten.

There were doors leading into other rooms but they were sealed off by barricades.

In the center of the room was a raised platform with a large dusty statue caressing a live sword too big for Hanzo to carry but also too small for Odyssey to call a sword.

Bewildered, he scratched his head and started searching the room, kicking boxes open, tearing stuff down and peeking into cubby holes and whatnot but he could find nothing.

Flustered, he crossed his arms and started to think.

Naturally, he found himself staring hard at the smiling statue and the aggressive cleaver it raised.

The blade was a tainted slab of sharp steel sandwiched between two plates of bolted metal. The cross guard was short and stocky with four thick chain links dangling from it.

It was quite impressive actually.

Oddly enough the statue seemed more ancient than the weapon itself and yet her hand was closed firmly around the hilt.

Her dress was suspended in the imagined breeze, her hair following suit. Her head was tilted at an angle with an ambiguous smile on her gentle face.

Hanzo started to feel sick. He decided that he wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.

Adults once told tales to children about statues coming alive and terrorizing villages in the middle of the night.

Right on cue, the statue shattered her paralysis and swung the blade with terrifying velocity.

Hanzo screamed like a banshee and ducked.

The sword smashed through the floor, missing his head by inches.

Sparks and stone chunks flew across the chamber with the sound of steel scraping the enclosure.

The terrified young lad scrambled for the exit yelling Odyssey’s name but the statue raised and slammed the sword down, sending a shockwave reverberating through the castle.

Hanzo felt his body lift and slam into the wall.

Gasping, he looked up and saw the beige behemoth stomp toward him with the blade leveled. She was looking dead at him with pearly white eyes and the same placid grin.

The earth shook under her mighty footfalls and then came the devastating thrust.

Hanzo dived like a dolphin. The deafening blow spawned another hail of stone and debris as she retracted the sword in a whipping motion and brought it down on him again.

With no time to dodge, Hanzo raised his blade over his head and braced himself.

The two weapons collided with a tremendous spiritual eruption.

Hanzo hit the ground sliding. The statue staggered backward, losing control of itself and crashed into the wall.

Spirit pressure shook Hanzo’s body as he scrambled to his feet and rushed at the behemoth before it could recover.

He launched off the platform and swung charges of blazing emerald, screaming unintelligibly.

The statue swung back clumsily as the waves of energy bombed her crumbling exterior.

She sprang forward and ejected an atomic frequency from her mouth.

Hanzo went flying and hit the floor with a neck breaking tumble.

The stone woman marched after him.

He rose on one knee, using his sword as a crutch as the statue brought hers down like a hammer.

He deflected the blow with a wild spin and launched his blade into her face. Her head exploded in a flash, sending chunks of marble ricocheting about the tower.

He shielded his face from the blast, feeling heat well up in his green eyes.

The sculpture fell on her knees and shook the building like an earthquake.

Dust rained from cracks in the walls and old lanterns broke off and fell to the floor.

After a chilling wave of silence, the young warrior finally peeked over his sleeve, staring at a headless freak with a smoldering stump of a neck.

The statue did not fall over. It stood still, petrified in its current state.

Hanzo decided not to waste time wondering if it was still alive.

With a pounding heart, he climbed to its hand and scrambled up its arm to the shoulder and jumped up as high as he could, reaching up to grab his sword as it had sunk deep into the wall.

His fingers caught onto the hilt and his body swung awkwardly as he sent his other hand up to grasp it.

Stabilizing himself, he set his feet on the wall and launched off, ripping the blade free.

Then he came down on the headless sculpture and cleaved it in half.

It shuddered and groaned as both sides came crashing to the floor in pieces.

Hanzo trembled with adrenaline, stumbling over clumps of stone, leaving footprints in the glimmering dust.

He recovered the large sword and chiseled off the remains of the statue’s fist on the hilt.

After a bit of bewildered improvisation, he tied his sword to his back with an old moldy belt he found and began testing the weight of the larger blade.

He squatted down and gripped the handle, straightening his knees slowly.

It was heavy but he mustered the strength to lift it to his shoulder. If he had another helper on the sharp end, carrying it outside wouldn’t be too difficult.

For now, he would have to drag it.

With angry determination, he shoved the exit door open as much as he could and hauled the sword through the opening, through the corridor and back outside followed by lots of loud scraping noises.

Moving downhill, his job became a bit easier, though he was at a greater risk of slipping and falling.

Carrying it up the slope would be the most difficult part of all but thankfully, Odyssey would be there to relieve him of his burden.

Unfortunately, once Hanzo reached the bottom looking up toward the ledge, Odyssey was nowhere to be seen.

He called his name but only the wind blew in response to his absence. The young warrior was furious.

He’d nearly gotten butchered to death by some accursed statue over some stupid sword only to have his supposed mentor goof off for no reason.

He dropped the massive blade angrily and looked up to the ruins, not sure what he was supposed to do from here.

Carrying it up the ledge was possible only if he was willing to drain his energy for the next couple of hours,

He could circle around and bring it through the woods but it didn’t matter if the man wasn’t even around to get it.

Where the hell does this guy always run off to?? He growled, hiking up the slope to find him.

He retraced his steps through the forest but no matter how far he gazed, all he saw were trees.

Maybe he went to take a smash. Hanzo thought. When he gets back I’m going to stab him in his foot.

He went back to the ledge and sat against a tree for a moment, wishing he had something to eat.

He started noticing how sore he was.

It seemed day after day he was expected to survive the most absurd dangers without any context or reasoning.

The last thing he imagined he’d have to do was fight against a sentient statue.

He could have gotten killed with that level of surprise.

Several minutes passed but Odyssey never returned.

Hanzo sighed, tossing his head back against the tree, staring beyond the shade of branches into the clouds drifting by.

Where am I? Why am I here? Who are these people?

The answers eluded him. He thought of Blackleaf, his neighbors and friends who all were suddenly beginning to feel like the distant past. It couldn’t have been that long since he’d left. He wondered about his mother, Cassandra and how she was faring with his absence.

He hung his head, half miserable and closed his eyes.

Before long, his consciousness slipped into silent darkness.

It was well into the evening when he came to.

He looked up and saw the ocean, hypnotized by its shimmering beauty and simultaneously confused by its presence.

To his left were the tropical woods and its dense vegetation.

He pulled his back off the uncomfortable bark of a palm tree and stood up, finally recognizing the island.

It occurred to him that he’d ought to get used to this kind of thing, no matter how baffling it was.

At his feet he found a dark dragon skin jacket with his normal holster set on top of it.

He examined the new jacket, reminded of how torn and bruised his old one was.

This jacket was almost identical in design.

He put aside for the time being and replaced his makeshift sword holder with the proper one and slid his blade inside of it.

He walked the beach, twirling his sword until the sun set below the horizon. The sobering darkness of a starry evening and the soothing breeze over the endless deep kept him near the ocean, reflecting over his life and where he was headed from here on.

The peace of being alone without any outside interference felt like a rare commodity on this unpredictable piece of land and he was keen on making it last.

However, he couldn’t help noticing some commotion in the distance.

He heard the beating of drums and indistinct shouting from the other end of the woods. It made him think of the natives.

It couldn’t have been the natives since the origin of all the noise seemed to come from the caravan lodges.

Probed by curiosity, he soon went to investigate although he was certain it was just Uzai’s people engaged in their tomfoolery.

It turned out to be exactly that.

Hanzo observed the caravan from the woods as they congregated around the bonfire singing and dancing to strange but lively music.

Hunger struck him with a reminder as the rich smell of seafood began making rounds.

He hadn’t eaten all day, but he was reluctant to step out of hiding and join the crowd just to get something to eat.

Maybe he’d come back later.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, someone spotted him.

“Hey, who’s that over there?”

“Is that Hanny boy?” Another cried.

Heads turned to look and rejoiced at the boy’s presence. His cover was blown.

“Come on over, Hanny! Come grab yourself something to eat and join in on the fun!”

He was not at all eager to join in on anything these people had going on but he decided to submit to the invitation for now.

To his surprise, he saw Naomi sitting on a bench outside of the boisterous crowd, glaring at the bonfire.

She didn’t seem to notice his arrival.

A woman, one who’d been the first to spot Hanzo, took him by the arm and drew him closer into the gathering.

“There’s no need to be shy, Hanny.” She said persuasively. “Come and get yourself some love!”

Within seconds he was pulled into the midst of it all, overwhelmed by the presence of these musky smelling folk with their jarring musicians and the roaring bonfire before him.

The lady sat him down at a crowded bench and took her seat beside him, taking a drink from a passing tray and a platter of food from another.

He looked at her like she was a strange creature as she pushed a cup in his hands and urged him to drink.

“It’s called Laz.” She said. “Try it.”

Hanzo pulled his eyes away from her and looked at the strange beverage that looked like molasses.

His hand trembled, raising the mug to his mouth.

It was hot, tasting vaguely of cinnamon and some kind of tangy fruit he could not name.

As he swallowed, an icy heat flooded his airways and shot up his spine into his brain.

His pupils dilated and he shuddered from the reaction.

“What the freak??” He gasped, gripping the bench.

The woman burst out laughing.

Hanzo didn’t find anything funny.

“What the heck is this crap??” He cried.

“I just told you, silly.” She replied.

The woman looked like she was ten years or more older than him but she had the touchy demeanor of someone trying to be flirty or romantic.

She was by no means bad looking but he did not like being touched and he did not want to go on a date.

I should have just starved to death on the beach instead. He thought, still shaking from the effects of the strange beverage.

“Laz is a special drink that stimulates your senses.” She said, “It’s made from the fruit of a Lazac tree. We drain the juice from it and mix it with cinnamon and coffee beans to add to that blissful flavor.”

She took a large piece of fried shrimp from the platter on her lap and dipped in an orange sauce and tried to put it in his mouth.

He ducked away, glaring at her.

She belly laughed again and others chuckled at Hanzo’s reaction.

“Leave the poor lad alone, Ayua!” A man said.

“You’ll scare him off!”

“I’m allergic to shrimp anyway.” Hanzo rasped.

The woman named Ayua looked surprised and then felt a little ashamed.

“Oh my! Please forgive me.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll take the other stuff though.”

They served him a bowl of fried rice and vegetables with scallops and squid soaked in a zesty seafood brew. He started chowing down, able to tune out the incessant chatter that surrounded him for a time.

The food was sensational, much better than that god forsaken porridge.

He’d barely finished his meal when folks started asking him questions about his life before he got here.

Ayua in particular, was eager to hear about it all.

Naomi walked up and chucked a log into the fire, cutting her eyes at him.

“I don’t have anything to share.” Hanzo grumbled.

“Oh come on, Hanny!” A fellow complained, “We know you’ve got some epic adventures to tell us about!”

“Yeah, don’t be shy! We won’t bite!”

“Kill the music, you self absorbed cretins! Hanzo’s trying to tell a story!”

God, these people are aggravating. He glared, taking a gulp of water.

“Tell us how you met Uzai.” Ayua said.

The young celebrity sighed and started his tale on the day he was headed out to leave the village for bootcamp.

“You want to be a soldier?” Myra chimed in enthusiastically.

Hanzo nodded and continued.

He told them about the girls at the festival and the vicious beasts he fought in the valley, the last being that awful grizzly bear.

The audience reeled in hushed suspense except for Naomi who stood in front of the crackling bonfire with her arms crossed, listening.

“…and so, after all of that insanity, I met this guy on the other side of a stream. He told me he would teach me the Way but only if I could pull this sword out of the ground.”

He tapped the hilt of the black blade. The crowd let out gasps of awe.

“So you pulled it out…” Ayua said. “What happened next?”

“I pulled it out and chopped his head off by accident.”

There was a moment of confused silence followed by a series of laughter.

“Hanny boy killed a man!” An older man hooted.

“So I freaked out and ran off into the woods,” Hanzo continued. “And suddenly I look up and there’s this big ass giant in a black cloak…”

Hanzo paused. Naomi turned to look dead at him.

“And then??” She snapped.

“And then Hanny boy slew the big bad giant with a paperclip!” Uzai chimed in.

The crowd gave way to the old man marching through with his staff handy. The Caravan greeted him heartily and he returned their greetings, partaking in the drinks and refreshments.

“I saw it myself!” Uzai exclaimed. “The whole woods was collapsing all around me. I saw Hanny boy jumping through the trees—pow—pow—pow!! The giant tried to squash him like a fly but he was too fast. Hanny flipped over his head and—bam—bang—kapow!! The giant’s head cracked open like a coconut. He fell to the ground and died. I said, wow! How’d ya do it, pal? Hanny boy showed me his magic paperclip and said that one day I’ll understand when I reach his level.

And that my friends, is how Hanny boy came to be The Legend of Dragma!”

The crowd erupted into rounds of applause.

“Well done, Hanny!” They cheered.

“That’s my boy!”

Naomi glared at the old buffoon, the hot orange blaze flickering in her eyes with intensity.

Hanzo massaged his eyes, shaking his head in embarrassment.

Ayua took a sip of Laz with a thoughtful gaze on the youngster.

It seemed there was a bit more to this young lad than advertised.