“NO!” Naomi screamed.

Old man Uzai frowned and shook his head. “Boy I tell ya’.”

“I am not teaching him anything!!!” She protested.

They were standing on the beach, Naomi wearing swimming shorts and a white shirt and Uzai in his usual garbs grasping his staff.

Hanzo glanced between them in frustration.

The morning was usually peaceful, a good time for him to train alone and do some self reflection until these idiots came along to meddle in his life.

He agreed with Naomi in that she should not train him for if she did, she was sure to abuse him every chance that she got.

Hanzo began to feel that if she continued in this way, he would have to really kick her ass almost to the point of killing her.

“You will teach Hanny boy.” Uzai said stubbornly. “Besides, it’ll be good practice for you as well.”

“I can practice on my own!!!”

“It’s always better to have a partner!” Uzai pointed out.

“I do not want a partner!!!” She yelled adamantly.

“Now, now, Naomi.” Uzai wagged his finger sternly. “Listen to your old man and help Hanny boy with his water abilities.”

“I said no!! Teach him yourself, you stupid old geezer!!”

“I’m too old to be teaching nowadays. My knees ache. My spine’s been locking up. Kidneys are failing. Eyes don’t work like they used to. I reckon pretty soon I’ll kick the bucket.”

“Well, hurry up and kick it then!” Naomi retorted.

“That’s no way to talk to your old man!” He chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll be around long enough to see you and Hanny grow into fine warriors!”

“Well, if you want to see him grow so bad, train him yourself!”

“Naomi, I need ya’ to understand. This is very important. You have to train Hanny boy or else there will be repercussions.”

“But—!”

“No buts!” Uzai interjected. “You will train Hanny boy. If ya’ don’t, I’ll cut your pay! I’m sure you don’t want to be broke again.”

Naomi balled her fists and spewed hot air through her cheeks.

The senile old man just looked at her with a grin.

“You’re so adorable when you’re angry.” He said.

The girl kicked sand into the old man’s face and he flinched,

flailing his arms around in protest. She kept kicking and kicking until he sputtered and spat, feeling a billion grains spill into his clothes and hair.

“Stop it!” He yelped.

“Go away, you ugly roach!!!” She snapped.

The old man started scampering off as she started throwing clumps at him, even picking up a nearby crab and beaming it at the back of his head.

The creature latched onto his skull and sent him into a wild frenzy as he took off into the forest hopefully never to return.

Hanzo watched the annoying old fart go, feeling both amused and apprehensive as he suddenly found himself in the presence of this unpredictable banshee.

His sword was at the ready though. He figured she’d unleash hers at any moment but to his surprise she turned to the sea and folded her arms tightly, glaring into the horizon.

He scratched his thick head of hair uncomfortably.

She said nothing.

The young lad began to wonder where Skeeter had gone but quickly banished the thought as he did not want to inadvertently summon the sewer spirit.

At least with Naomi, he could tell what she’d do next.

Skeeter was a faceless, expressionless, emotionless creature with a rapid impulse for destruction.

He shuddered at the thought of fighting him again.

A few seagulls circled the bright blue sky, their meager cries drowned out by the heavy winds they surfed upon.

“Well?” Hanzo said, finally dissolving the silence between him and the girl.

She cut her eyes at him, roving over his crazy hair and sunburned skin, then she reached her arm out as if to grab something.

With little effort, she tore a large blob of water from the sweeping tide and pulled it in front of her. Sunlight bounced off the gelatinous orb in brilliant little sparkles as droplets trickled down its surface and dribbled onto the damp sand.

Hanzo was mesmerized.

Naomi turned to him with her sharp eyes focused on the translucent globe and for a moment, Hanzo thought she was going to throw it at him.

She spread her feet a few inches apart and faced both palms out in front of the orb.

He heard her mumbling things under her breath as she spread her arms in a graceful fashion, stretching the orb to match the width between her hands.

The buffeting winds and lull of gravity caused the form to shimmer and shake but she held it up with effortless concentration.

Slowly and gracefully, she raised her left elbow and swept her hand around her head. The water followed as though it had a life of its own.

She let her arms fall to her side and the water continued to orbit her head as if it were some celestial body trapped in the gravity of a planet.

The bored look on her face suggested that she’d done this more times than she cared to count. Hanzo was reasonably impressed but he did not show it.

The girl gave him a sudden look of repulsion as if he wasn’t even supposed to be watching.

She sent her arm forward and the form swam toward him.

He pushed his sword in the sand and tried to catch it but it merely crashed into him like a punch.

“What the freak?” He cried, blinking furiously as water spilled through his hair over his skin and into his pants.

Naomi rolled her eyes and pulled more water out of the sea and sent another spheroid quivering his way.

He tried to stop it with both hands but again, the form splashed into him.

“Stop trying to catch it, you idiot.” Naomi growled.

“What hell am I supposed to do??” He remarked.

The girl fetched more water and doused him again, applying a bit more force to the throw.

She repeated this several more times until Hanzo was sopping wet, unable to concentrate on the elemental blobs.

She put her hands on her hips and sighed in frustration.

“Do it.” She said.

“Do what??” Hanzo cried. This girl was the worst teacher in the world.

She jabbed her finger at the ocean. “Summon water!!” She snapped.

Grumbling, Hanzo went over to the waves and focused his essence into the water and gradually drew out an orb smaller than Naomi’s and less willing to conform to the desired shape.

He backed away, carrying as much of it with him as he could.

Suddenly, he felt a strange numbing sensation as Naomi took control of the form and pulled it toward her.

The sensation died as quickly as it came, leaving Hanzo bewildered as he watched the girl.

“I’m going to pass it to you. When it reaches you, pass it back to me.”

Hanzo figured that was what she’d been trying to do all along.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected to get very far with her helping him.

He found it rather strange, even if she was being bribed to do it.

How much is that old man even paying her to do this? He thought bitterly.

The duo stood under the late morning sun, bathed by the cool winds rushing from the vast horizon, listening to the roar of the ocean, practicing their water affinities, although Hanzo was struggling.

He could not seem to catch the water no matter how many times she sent it.

At times it felt like she was just throwing orbs at him.

The sand at his feet turned to a muddy mush, getting stuck between his toes.

Meanwhile, Naomi stood on the opposite end, her hostility replaced by boredom.

She flung bolts of water at him carelessly, stifling a yawn and playing with her loose strands of hair.

The liquid burst on impact, causing him to stagger enough to incite his frustration.

“You think you can slow down a bit??” He yelled.

“It’s not my fault you suck.” Naomi scowled.

She summoned another globe. “Like I said, stop trying to catch it. It’s not a ball.”

She set her palms outward at chest level and pushed the sphere toward him.

He narrowed his gaze and took a similar stance and concentrated his essence into the water.

At that moment, a tiny current swept through his limbs.

The water became one with him as he focused on guiding it toward himself.

As it came into contact with his palms, he held it there for a moment, gazing at his distorted reflection.

The mass recoiled as he gently pushed it away.

Before it could reach the girl, it quivered madly and spilled to the ground.

Naomi frowned and called forth more water, repeating the process.

After several failed attempts, Hanzo finally managed to send the water to her.

She returned it and he did likewise, starting a slow but continuous volley between them.

“Stop using so much energy.” Naomi said, “It’s only water.”

Hanzo noted this. It seemed he was not used to the more gentler arts.

In Naomi’s control, the water was more compliant. When he held it, it trembled constantly.

“Glaring at it doesn’t help either.” The girl added.

Hanzo said nothing but he seemed to understand what she was trying to say.

He was trying too hard to control it.

The simple exercise went on for the next several minutes.

Naomi started to grow restless, hardly considering the activity to be an exercise.

It was more like a child’s game.

Hanzo was also growing weary but he was determined to perfect his craft.

“How did you get that sword?” Naomi asked suddenly, pulling the water toward her. She withheld it from him, holding it to the side with her fingers spread open as if she were holding a platter.

The tail end of the spheroid rose up and quivered like a flame.

Hanzo was dumbfounded for a second or two before shaking his head in confusion.

“Weren't you there last night when I told everyone?”

“You expect me to believe that you stole it from some random guy and killed him by accident?” She replied.

“That’s what happened.” Hanzo shrugged. “If you don’t believe it, that's not my problem.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits.

“And the giant?” She said.

Hanzo furrowed his brow. “What giant?”

“You said you saw a giant in a black cloak.”

Hanzo grinned. “Your old man already told you what happened.”

Naomi lobbed the ball of water at him. He ducked and it zoomed over his head and burst into a frilly mist behind him.

“What the freak is your problem?!!” Hanzo cried. “Have you never heard of giants before or something??”

The girl crossed her arms tightly. Her mean glare burned like fire.

“Who is the giant?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Answer the question!”

“His name is Orville.”

“No it is not.”

Hanzo grilled his teeth, trying not to volunteer information.

Then he began to wonder why.

It wasn’t like he owed Odyssey anything and Odyssey never told him to keep his existence a secret.

Somehow, he sensed the titan was not some average joe that people were safe to speak of so casually.

He was dangerous. No one built like him could be anything less than such.

Beyond that, it was absurd that someone as massive as he could show up on the island without being seen or heard even once.

It was truly a conundrum.

Hanzo scratched his scalp furiously, trying to make sense of it all.

At that moment, old man Uzai appeared with three bowls of porridge stacked on one hand and his staff in the other.

“Howdy!” He greeted the two youngsters. “I thought you guys might be hungry so I made you all some pipin’ hot porridge!”

“Uzai!” Naomi snapped.

“Yes sweetie?” Uzai grinned.

The girl pointed a finger at Hanzo accusingly. “Who brought him to this island?”

“I told you before, Naomi.” Uzai said, setting the bowls down on a small picnic mat. “He came by himself!”

“Stop lying.” She growled. “He told me that a giant brought him here.”

Uzai looked at Hanzo in surprise. “You didn’t tell me that, Hanny boy!”

Hanzo glared at the old man but said nothing.

Naomi and Uzai went on arguing until the old man changed the topic and requested to see what they’d been practicing so far.

The two reclaimed their positions and demonstrated the exercise.

Uzai’s eyes widened as he watched the orb of water bounce between them.

It picked up speed as Naomi thrust it at the young warrior who sent it back with just as much force.

She sent it back angrily and he did the same.

The orb churned and burbled as the two forces pushed and shoved against each other, causing it to stagger in the middle.

Hanzo felt his concentration narrow like thread on a needle as he pushed his will through his forearm.

The orb lurched as the opposing force fought to launch it into his face but it would not move in either direction.

Overwhelmed by the pressure, it popped and a white mist gushed forth, dousing all three of them.

“Wow!” Uzai exclaimed, catching his flat cap before it blew away. For once, he sounded genuine.

Hanzo smirked at Naomi who stood still with her fists balled in frustration.

Streams of water trickled down both their faces.

“See, Naomi?” Uzai said. “ I told you you two would make a great team!”

“Shut up.” She seethed.

“Well, that’s enough for now.” The old man sat down at the checkered picnic blanket and removed the covers that were pulled over sturdy wooden bowls that held the dirty brown porridge.

“Time to eat breakfast!” He cried happily and placed a spoon in each bowl.

“I’m not hungry.” Naomi hissed. With that, she shot a steely glance at Hanzo, turned around and marched off.

Hanzo watched her go, wondering what she had for breakfast. Surely it was much better than the old man’s porridge.

Porridge had never been particularly disgusting to him. He’d been served some once before, probably by his mother. It was wholesome and sweet but this stuff was just irredeemably awful.

He could hardly remember the taste of it but all he knew was that his tongue seized every time it entered his mouth.

Uzai shook his head in disappointment.

“That girl is a handful.” He said.

“No wonder.” Hanzo grumbled.

“Have a seat.” Uzai gestured. “Help yourself to some porridge.”

“No.”

“Bummer! Looks like I made it all for nothing.”

“Why do you always eat the same crap every day?”

“Because…” Uzai shoved a spoonful in his mouth, “It’s healthy. Promotes strong bones and muscle growth. You should try it!”

“I already have. You forced it in my mouth the first time.”

Uzai blinked, and then he remembered with a guilty chuckle.

“Oh, well…it’s an acquired taste.”

Hanzo sighed and sat down. He was hungry and he didn’t know what else he could eat so he took the hot bowl and stared at it dispassionately.

Uzai watched him eagerly.

The boy took a spoonful and sniffed it. It smelled like a plethora of spices but nothing sweet or savory.

Slowly he set the utensil in his mouth and absorbed the steaming brown lump.

Uzai grinned ear to ear, his wrinkled skin stretching as his eyes bulged eagerly.

The boy’s face wrenched in disgust and he turned to the side and spat the stuff out, spoon and all.

Uzai’s face fell.

“What the hell is this crap??” He croaked, wiping his lips with his forearm.

The old man shook his head, once again disappointed.

“You young whippersnappers and your picky eating. Back in my day we didn’t have much to eat. The headmasters fed us mushed up cornmeal and powdered milk for breakfast, lunch and dinner but we were grateful!”

“I can see why you suck at cooking.” Hanzo rasped.

“My cooking is great! I can show ya’ how to make more porridge if you’d like. I’ll even tell ya’ my secret ingredient!”

“No thanks. I’d rather eat Naomi’s poisonous grits and eggs.”

“Oh, Naomi’s a really good cook.” Uzai agreed. “She sure can serve up a mean dish!”

“Oh yeah??” Hanzo replied with fiery sarcasm.

“Yup! One time she found a dead mermaid washed up on shore. She took that thing, chopped it up and served us a delicious stew for supper!”

Hanzo stared at the old goat incredulously. “A mermaid??”

“Yup! That’s right!”

“Isn’t that basically cannibalism?” Hanzo said with a hint of disgust. The old man was clearly lying but even so, eating a mermaid sounded awful. The mere thought of it made Hanzo gag.

Uzai shrugged absently and began spooning the porridge in his mouth.

“Who is she anyway?”

Uzai paused. “The mermaid?”

“No! Naomi, you clown!”

“Oh! She’s my granddaughter, silly! Why’d ya’ ask?”

Hanzo shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because she lives alone? Everyone else in the caravan seems to live together. Besides, I’ve never heard her call you grandpa.”

“Oh.” Uzai said, deflating a bit. “Well, you see pal, Naomi has always been a little rough around the edges. Back when she was just a weebly, we used to buy her dolls but she would always abuse the poor little things. I remember one time we caught her waterboarding her teddy bear in the washroom. I guess she didn’t like what it had to say because she strapped it to a chair, poured gasoline on it and set it on fire! I had to give her a whoopin’. That poor teddy cost me a fortune!”

Hanzo was incredulous. He assumed the old man wasn’t lying about this. It sounded like something she would do.

“She’s a real handful.” Uzai went on as if he were talking to one of his peers. “By the time she turned five, she was already playing around with swords and stuff. Shot her first rifle around that time too. If she wasn’t doing any of that she was always causing trouble on the island, stealing people’s belongings and making a racket.”

“Does she not have parents??” Hanzo exclaimed.

Uzai pulled out a rope of beef jerky and started gnawing on it. “Parents died when she was young. Too young to know 'em! Poor thing.

They say it takes a child to raise a village but she was just too much even for the Caravan to handle.”

A child to raise a village? Hanzo thought in confusion.

“You mean it takes a village to raise a child.” He corrected him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Uzai grunted, waving off the suggestion. “So anyway, Naomi showed a lot of interest in the fightin’ arts so I decided to show her the way. She was always ramblin’ about fighting boys and stuff but I figured she also needed some lessons in manners, so I sent her to the good old middle school in Portamina. Heh! She didn’t last a day!

She started fighting the teachers and bullying the other girls there, so we pulled her out and sent her off to the Rothwolves for a little while. They straightened her out real good.”

Hanzo struggled to recall who the Rothwolves were for just a second but the obvious inclusion of the word wolves was enough of a reminder.

Grandmaster Oshira and his wolf realm. A chill ran up his spine as he recounted his experience with the powerful entities that roamed a world bathed in ghostly moonlight.

It made sense now. Naomi’s obvious fighting prowess was all the more reasonable considering she trained with the elite warrior assassins, mercenaries or whatever they were.

And by the sound of it, she was quite young at the time. Hanzo could only have dreamed of having such training at that age. Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind as Uzai rambled on about the former little girl.

“Old man.” He said, but the guy kept on talking.

“…She came back all beat and tired, crying about Okami and stuff. I was trying to get the ladies to teach her how to be more feminine but she still wanted more training. I had to tell her that at a certain age it was time for her to start thinking about finding a nice young man to start a future with but she started getting an attitude. I said, listen missy, you’d better get yourself straightened out or I’ll have to take away your sword collection! Then she pounded me on my noggin. I reckon that’s when I started forgettin’ things all the time.”

“Uzai.”

“Now, don’t get me wrong, pal. Naomi may be a little tomboy but deep down she’s got a good heart! I love her almost as much as I love Skeeter! She’s young and gorgeous. She’s got a nice personality that few other gals have at her age. And that’s why I picked her to take care of you Hanny boy, because I know that when you’re in trouble she’s willing to put her life on the line to keep you safe and sound!”

“I don’t care.” Hanzo remarked, “Who are the Rothwolves?”

“Oh, they’re just a bunch of wolves.” Uzai replied casually.

“Stop playing around.”

“I can’t be playing around at this age, Hanny boy. I’m too old!”

“That’s the point…” he growled.

Uzai simply gnawed on his beef jerky in protest to any maturity that was expected of him.

“Well, what about Odyssey?” Hanzo continued.

“What about Odyssey?” Uzai echoed, as if there was nothing remotely important about the hulking titan.

“I mean, like, who is he??” Hanzo exclaimed, low on patience. “Who are the Rothwolves?”

Uzai finally stopped chewing and grinned at the lad. “Well, they’re our friends, Hanny boy!”

Hanzo wanted to strangle him right there on the sand and bury him underneath it all where no one would think to find him.

He shook his head in exasperation and rose off the ground, beating the sand off his pants, unconcerned about the grains sprinkled on his bowl of porridge.

He went to retrieve his striking black sword and ran his palm down the polished blade.

“If ya’ want Odyssey to train you, ya’ have to earn it.” Uzai said, collecting the bowls and folding the mat.

Hanzo glanced at him sideways.

“He doesn’t take disciples often. Few can withstand his training. So just be patient, Hanny boy. And work hard!”

“What if I train with the Rothwolves in the meantime?” As he asked the question, he suddenly wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.

“Well, the Rothwolves are really good pals of mine. We go way back. But they don’t really take too kindly to outsiders. Maybe I’ll ask old man Oshira when I go to see him. As a matter of fact…”

He checked his imaginary watch.

“I have an appointment with him at one o’ clock!”

Hanzo frowned at the man’s skinny wrist. There was something wrong with this guy.

“Whatever.” He said, resuming watch of the overwhelming sea.

“Keep on practicing, Hanny boy.” Uzai said, taking his walking staff in his free hand, “Practice makes perfect after all.”

The old man winked, turned around and walked away humming a cheerful tune to himself.

After he left, Hanzo thought about what he’d said about Odyssey and the Rothwolves, though he mostly avoided answering his questions directly.

He only went in depth about Naomi, who’s upbringing wasn’t so surprising, assuming all that he said was true.

Hanzo recalled a time as a kid when he beat up a teddy bear himself.

It seemed he and the girl had a bit in common and that was not a good thing.

Naomi arrived home to find Skeeter standing guard on her porch with his arms folded.

“Move.” She hissed.

“Only those who are worthy shall pass.” Skeeter rumbled in a deep voice.

Naomi went up the stairs and flushed the elemental aside.

She jerked the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

The television was on, scrambled lines of static marching over some old cartoon.

She squeezed the knob and turned it off. The distorted image flashed and shrunk into a small white cube before the screen went black.

Crystal clear water spilled into the front room through the bottom of the door.

Naomi grabbed the mop out of the corner but Skeeter had already taken form.

“You were going to mop me up?” Skeeter asked humorously.

“Get out of my house you ugly beast.”

“You’re so mean.” He said with feigned sorrow.

Naomi threw the mop down and went about the front room, cleaning things up and rearranging the clutter on the table.

“Say,” Skeeter said curiously, “I didn’t know you and Hanny boy got along so well. I saw you practicing together.”

“I am going to pelt you with chunks of sodium if you don’t get out.”

“There’s plenty of sodium in the ocean. Why should I be concerned?”

“Oh, you’ll find out.” She said with conviction.

Skeeter was puzzled by the idea that he should be afraid of sodium. He was a smart man—or rather, creature, but it seemed he still had so much to learn.

“So what are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“Hanzo. It seems like he’s here to stay.”

“What do you want, Skeeter??” She snapped.

“I want to gossip.” He said. “You’re the only one I can do this with.”

Naomi glared at him once then turned and went to her room.

He followed after her like a haunting ghost.

She collapsed on her bed face first and groaned as Skeeter appeared in the room, leaning on her dresser with his elbow.

“So where do you keep these special sodium chunks?” He asked, curious.

She didn’t answer. Her countenance became one with the pillow.

“By the way, did you ever ask Uzai about that strange red aura from Anilyx that followed you? You might wanna’ tell him about it just in case it turns out to be something really bad.”

Naomi said nothing.

“I have a few theories.” Skeeter palmed a metal fidget toy he found on her dresser and began tossing it up and down.

“I think it’s some crazy lab experiment that got loose after the attack on Mytokon. It’s some kind of parasitic amalga looking for a host. I wonder why it chose you?”

Naomi turned her head out of the pillow.

She already looked like she’d just woken up from a hard sleep.

“It didn’t choose me, you idiot. Stop touching my stuff.”

Skeeter put the toy down.

“You said it went inside of your body. It killed everyone else didn’t it?”

“Because they were weak.”

“So you think you’re that strong?”

“It went inside of that talisman.” She replied, burying her face again.

Skeeter noticed the crimson object on the dresser, a whole world of red swirling silently inside of a once blue crystal.

“That’s even more disturbing. If the talisman hadn’t been there, who knows what could have happened?”

“Who cares.” She growled.

“Naomi, you have to be more careful. You could have been killed. If you die, who will I have left to talk to?”

“You can talk to Hanzo since you like him so much.”

“I don’t think he likes me.” Skeeter said, “He’s always attacking me for some reason.”

“If you don’t get out of my room, I’ll attack you next.”

“Anyway, I think you should be more careful when you go out on your ridiculous escapades. You’re surprisingly difficult to find once you leave the island.”

Naomi muttered some kind of unintelligible retort.

“At first I thought it was luck but you know exactly what you're doing. You’re a slick one.

Not to mention that beast of a raven. Too bad you couldn’t take credit for it.”

Skeeter paused to ponder.

“On second thought, knowing Uzai, he probably cashed it in and took what should have been yours. He’s probably paying you with your money! What a clever man.”

Naomi said nothing. Her breathing became steady and quiet and her arm fell limp, dangling off the side of the bed.

“I know you hear me.” Skeeter grumbled.

She said nothing, still as a photograph except for the slow expansion of her lungs.

Skeeter’s eyes flashed as he watched the girl who was no longer the same little big headed runt that used to cause trouble back in the day.

He remembered the first time Uzai assigned him to her.

She was just a toddler at the time but she had the same, wide eyed, antagonizing gaze. She was initially terrified of Skeeter and hardly accepted anyone's embrace aside from Uzai.

It took her a while before she finally accepted the strange water man as an ally. By then, she would simply abuse him for fun, as she did with other things.

She was a family favorite though.

Everyone in the Caravan showered her with unwanted love and blasted her with polaroids to gush over when she grew up.

She was spoiled with presents and adoration all of which she’d grown weary of and instead found herself marvelling at Uzai’s collection of artifacts taking up space in his office.

Dolls were great and all but the little runt found nothing more fascinating than the hilt of a blade looming over the old man’s desk.

She reached up and grabbed it with two hands, pulling the whole thing down. The heavy blade fanned over her head and hit the floor with a bang.

The image of the shiny sword lying there was forever burned into memory.

Presently, Skeeter vanished from her bedroom as she slept soundly for a few hours, dreaming of bygone days.

The ocean’s presence marched through her subconscious, drowning the earth and rearing massive waves tall enough to surf on.

She saw old man Uzai grinning at them for no particular reason. He grinned like he always did, annoyingly optimistic about life regardless of the circumstances.

Behind him, Hanzo was pulling the sea toward him with great effort, struggling not to be pulled into its depths.

It was a kind of extreme tug of war but it was difficult to say who had the upper hand.

His heels were driven into the sand, carving deep trails behind him.

Naomi summoned a sword and tried to kill the boy but, there behind him, partially consumed by the forest was a massive muscular man whose long hair thrashed in such a manner that it was difficult to make out his face.

She tried to move toward him but he ran off like a murder suspect and vanished before the tidal wave crashed onto the beach and destroyed everything in sight.

Naomi awoke in a drowsy state. She rolled further onto the bed, wrapping her body in the covers and went back to sleep again, hardly thinking of the timeless dream until several minutes later as she was roused once again.

The old man was banging at her door.

“Naomi, wake up this instant!”

She was slow to obey and merely tolerated the next minute of incessant knocking.

“Naomi! Don’t make me come in there! I’ll confiscate all your books!”

“Go away.” She grumbled.

Uzai finally opened the door and walked in with a stern expression.

“Naomi,” he croaked. “You’re supposed to be helping Hanny boy with his training!”

“Get out of my room, you stupid bridge troll.” She growled.

“Your room is filthy! And what’s this?” The old man marched over to her dresser and picked up the talisman.

He was momentarily sobered by the strange artifact, rotating it between his fingers.

Naomi shot up and hurled the pillow at him. He crashed into the dresser with a startled cry and several items toppled over and fell to the floor.

“I said, get out!!!” She screamed.

Uzai shook his head as he got to his feet, holding his faulty spine.

“Boy, you young whippersnappers…” he rattled, bracing his other hand on the dresser to steady himself.

“You need to start being more responsible!”

Naomi glared at him like an angry cat, bunching her fluffy white blanket in tight fists.

“You need to get out.” She hissed.

“I know you like your privacy but you can’t keep shirking your duties! Hanny boy needs help!”

“I don’t care!”

“Well, you should!”

“Well, I don’t!”

“Well, you should!”

Naomi drew a sword from nowhere and darted out of the covers.

Uzai shrieked and jumped out of the way just as the blade struck the old mahogany dresser with a scraping crack as Uzai fled.

Naomi chased him into the hallway, into the front room and out the door with a hard kick to his ass.

He tumbled down the stairs and landed in the dirt in a seated position.

He sat there huffing and puffing when a vase smashed into the back of his skull.

Naomi slammed the door and stormed back into her room cursing through the walls.

The old man rubbed his throbbing head and got to his feet.

No more than a minute later, he forgot the whole incident and started reaching for his beef jerky when he felt something hard and sculpted fumbling through his fingers.

He pulled the thing out and held up the talisman with the swirling red cloud trapped inside of a gemstone.

He held it up to the drifting sun and observed it in wonder.

Then with a small grin, he pocketed it, stuffed his flat cap onto his balding pate and sauntered off with a funky strut, staff in hand.

He hummed a happy tune all the way down the road, past the beach, through the villa and farther down the trail into the deeper recesses of the forest.

He watched the swaying trees in the cool ocean wind and marvelled at the beauty of sunlight merging with the dark and vibrant colors of the woods, the birds calling out to one another with whimsical melodies which he would imitate, eager to join in on their pleasant conversation.

He inhaled the salty breeze mingled with the copious scent of flowers and tree bark.

Along the winding path, he came to the stables to check on his camels. He refilled their bowls with a special plant porridge hybrid feed that he invented himself.

The camels accepted his stroking hands on their long and broad heads, occasionally trying to nibble at his draping robes.

Satisfied, he continued down the trail, absorbing an endless spectra of sights, smells and sounds.

The walk soon came to an end as he approached a rocky ledge that spilled into the tide. The waves lapped upon the wet, clammy skin of the petrified earth and curved around the wooden legs of a large, vacant dock that had turned a dull, greasy looking greyish brown over the years. Thick and burly ropes hung from the sides, stained and hardened from use.

Seagulls in flight greeted the old man with resounding cries and some swept down to perch upon the seasoned posts to collect bread pieces from his veiny hands. He stroked the birds’ feathers and patted their beaks to which they did not mind.

He grinned happily, and palmed his staff, watching the bright and bountiful sea as it rushed and churned toward him like a crowd of applause.

The waves crashed and slammed into the deck at an ever growing urgency, sending forth droplets of mist to swirl through the air around the old man like an aura.

In the following moments, the mist curved and a glittering rainbow fell into view as it took the shape of a ring, growing ever brighter and clearer at the edge of the deck.

The seagulls fluttered off in a fright and the ring of ocean gyrated into a massive form with a glowing white center.

Old man Uzai lifted his arms and splayed his fingers upon the buffeting winds that raked his earthly garbs, granting him the appearance of some saintly being.

“Open sesame!” He cried.

The form raged at his command and swallowed him with a boom, causing the deck to quake and shudder on impact.

The stormy cyclone burst free, splashing the wooden structure and dissipated into a brief drizzle before it spilled back into the rippling tide.

All returned to normal.

The old man was gone and the seagulls mourned his absence.

Beyond the threshold of the gate, Uzai materialized in a place completely foreign.

The bright and jovial warmth of the sun was abruptly eclipsed by its polar opposite. A bright and full supermoon was held in suspense above tall, raking pines of a sloping forest, too far to study with the naked eye and yet still too close for comfort.

The old man looked at the celestial body and it gazed back at him in silence, observing him with equal measure.

He smiled at it, as if it would smile back. It never did.

He walked, departing from his initial point of entry of which a tall and rusted iron gate stood, tightly embraced by two winding trees.

He traveled a new path, narrow and barely discernible from the rest of the arboreal layers that blanketed the earth.

The moonlight draped his garbs and enhanced his shadow so that it slithered behind him like a limp tail. There was little breeze and much silence except for the rustling of critters upon his passing by.

He strolled on, still humming a pleasant tune despite the gloominess.

The man was a silhouette, walking among countless silhouettes panning in and out of view as he passed through junctions and junctions of sturdy trees that could lead him into countless unknowns.

He glimpsed beyond the slopes and hills for a refreshing view of imposing dark mountains juxtaposed against a horizon tinted pale amber beneath a navy blue sky.

Oshira Rothwolfe sat at the luxurious end of a small enclosure on an embroidered pillow on a great crimson rug embroidered in gold designs.

In front of him stood a wide table with four flickering candles to assuage the lurking darkness and two bowls brimming with food.

Clouds of steam fled through the stringy flesh of well seasoned lamb and mounds of rice and vegetables.

Cups of beverage stood still beside the dishes.

Oshira brooded over the food, his face drawn in the shadows.

His broad shoulders rose and fell softly as he breathed through his strong nose.

His ear twitched as he heard a strange sound. An irritating tap of some sort.

He paid it no mind and continued to slumber, snoring ungracefully.

The tap came harder and shook his senses.

He jumped awake with a start and looked about his surroundings to see his son, Okami sitting in the corner on a sofa, caressing a large black sickle.

On the other side of him was his daughter, Aisha Rothwolfe, who reclined with a thread of impatience visible in her eyes.

At the entrance of the great tent they sat in, a man stepped through the heavy curtains and stood in place smiling eerily.

“Wh—who’s that??” Oshira croaked in alarm.

Uzai removed his cap. “It is I.” He said.

Oshira seemed to relax. Then in a flash of hostility, he turned on his wayward son.

“Okami!!! Where are your manners?! You dare keep our honored guest waiting outside??”

The young warrior closed his eyes in resignation, continuing to graze his sickle.

Uzai sniffed the air and glanced around at the lodge wrapped in animal skins and other material. There were symbols and markings all over the walls, depicting some kind of tribal affiliations.

Brawny wolves sat obediently on each side, staring through space like soldiers at attention.

“I see money must be tight.” He pointed out.

“Come in.” Oshira gestured. “Have a seat.”

Uzai removed his sandals and a wolf came to retrieve them.

He walked down the red carpet and took a seat on a pillow in front of his old friend.

“Couldn’t afford to pay the light bill, eh?” He asked with a foolish grin that looked more sinister in the candlelight than friendly.

“Well…you see,” Oshira rumbled, “This fool, Okami, has yet to learn restraint.”

Uzai looked at the brazen young fellow who did not glance up for even a moment to acknowledge his presence.

“Still haven’t got that anger of yours in check, eh Okami?” He chuckled.

“This fool destroyed the mountain our ancestors have fought to preserve for thousands of years!!” Oshira boomed, “His arrogance knows no bounds.”

Uzai shook his head in disbelief. “That’s how it is with these young whippersnappers. I go through the same thing with Naomi.”

“Naomi?” Oshira asked, puzzled.

“Oh, you know…” Uzai extrapolated, “My little girl. Big head. Fat braid.”

“Oh.” Oshira rumbled, connecting the dots. “That little woman.”

“Yes, she’s quite the little lass.”

Oshira nodded as if he knew but in reality, he was still struggling to remember which of the Caravan’s girls was Naomi. He remembered her face but he also remembered the face of a few others.

“Her and Hanny boy are starting to get along quite well.” Uzai said.

Oshira nodded as if he knew but in reality, he had no idea who Hanny Boy was.

He stopped nodding.

“Who??”

“Hanny boy.” Uzai said, “You know…uh…Blackleaf’s kid.”

Oshira pondered the name for a moment. Then he remembered the energetic youth with the black sword that stumbled upon his mighty realm.

“Ah yes…” he rasped with satisfaction. “The chosen warrior.”

“What’d ya’ think of him?” Uzai said, shoving a spoonful of rice and vegetables in his mouth.

“That boy is indeed the most powerful I have ever seen in years. I trembled under his might.”

“You fell under his might.” Okami corrected.

“SILENCE!!!” Oshira roared, slamming his fist on the table. The dishes rattled with fright.

Okami scoffed and shook his head.

“So you met him too, Okami?” Uzai asked.

Okami said nothing but the old man took that as an affirmative answer.

“I figured you needed a friend. I know it’s hard not having someone to play with in this gloomy old place.”

Okami’s vacant gaze seemed to sharpen upon the curved edge of his weapon.

“Okami needs no friends.” Oshira spat, “He should rot in the dungeons feeding off mice and gruel until he learns to respect his elders.”

“Gotta respect your elders.” Uzai agreed, “Especially your parents. I had to learn that the hard way.”

“He has much to learn.” Oshira rumbled. “He seems to think that he did not come from these loins...”

“Why don’t you shriveled old pigs get on with it?” Okami bristled.

“OKAMI!!!” Oshira boomed. A gale of spirit pressure battered the lodge like an upwards rainstorm. The dishes on the table rattled furiously.

The man’s eyes sparked with icy blue intensity as he glared upon the pompous brat.

Okami returned his death stare with cool indifference, ready to commence another round of ass whooping if he had to.

“Now, now,” Uzai chuckled, “Settle down folks. Wouldn’t want to lose another billion on collateral.”

Oshira’s power subsided and he returned to his normal self.

He took up his fork and knife and began sawing into his lamb chops. He severed a piece and crammed it into his jaws.

The room was quiet while they both went on with their meal until their dishes were wiped clean and the maid servants came to collect them.

“That was delicious.” Uzai said, pressing a napkin to his lips.

“Indeed.” Oshira agreed, “The lamb was extracted from the local farm. They have the finest livestock.”

“Extracted?”

Oshira grinned, revealing extended canines.

Uzai started chuckling and he was soon joined by his brooding companion.

Aisha Rothwolfe eyed them both with immeasurable vexation.

The rumbling laughter grew to a steady cadence and lasted for at least a minute before it ebbed away and the room fell silent once again.

Oshira started coughing out of nowhere, catching some rice in his windpipe. Four wretched expulsions shook his frame, loud enough to startle a sleeping lion.

He put his fist to his mouth and waited for the disruption to pass, then he cleared his throat and commenced with more pertinent matters.

“We’ve had untimely encounters with The Blackswordsmen as of late.”

Uzai looked at the old master with consideration.

“They were spread about Braugnorth, collecting peculiar artifacts. Okami was able to retrieve a few.”

He placed a large sack on the table and the contents clattered against each other.

He pulled apart the straw knot, bunched the fabric and unveiled four amber colored shards of crystalline material with streaks of dark red substance in their center.

They were curved and sharp as daggers, certainly big enough to use as such.

Uzai took one and held it up to his experienced eyes.

The candlelight glanced along the multifaceted surface.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“Looks like Dragunaszi embellishments.”

“Regium.” Oshira nodded, “A vital component of their armaments.”

“I’m not sure about the red stuff though. It almost looks like blood.”

Uzai took another crystal for comparison. There wasn’t much of a difference between the two.

Their hardness was evident as he knocked them together.

A vague energy emitted from them, one he could not describe. There was certainly something strange about these things.

“I was never interested in rocks.” Oshira grumbled, nudging the bag toward Uzai, “These are yours to keep. Should you discover something, I shall be intrigued.”

“What I find interesting is that the Blackswordsmen were collecting these. Why would the army send their elites just to scout for a bunch of rocks, eh?” Uzai looked to Okami for confirmation.

“They employed men to gather them while they kept watch.”

“So these were being mined from the earth?”

“Not from the outset. Miners discovered the material by accident. Each of those shards were part of a larger body that appeared to be spherical; a massive geode perhaps.”

“Perhaps??” Oshira rasped, “I have trained you in the art of absolute certainty, yet you utter such dubious language??”

“Furthermore,” Okami continued, ignoring the pedantic geezer, “The Blackswordsmen had valid reason to be present. Brokers from the black market were notified of this regium material which in turn caught the attention of the Dragunaszi.”

“So the Dragunaszi are involved!” Uzai exclaimed as if he were listening to a tale.

The young warrior gave a slight nod.

“Now this is interesting!” Uzai said, turning the regium shard in his jeweled fingers. At that moment, a thought came to mind upon his studious examination of the dark red substance that filled the gem’s inner realm.

He put the shards aside and drew out the talisman he’d stolen from Naomi’s room and tossed it at Oshira who snatched it from the air in a quick blur of motion.

His eyes widened. Even Okami left his peripheral meditation to stare at the artifact.

“What is this abomination?” Oshira spat.

“Well, if you guys kept up with the news, that energy was found hovering above Anilyx. Out of her own morbid curiosity, Naomi went to fetch it herself!”

Oshira looked at the old man, incredulous, “Naomi obtained this?”

“Well,” Uzai chuckled, “Not exactly. We have our ways. You see, she was intrigued by the whole series of events borne from the attack on Mytokon and went to claim the bounty for the Raven of Thamus. And boy did she give that sucker a beatin’!”

“The Raven of Thamus??” Oshira roared.

“Well, it was just a knockoff after all.” Uzai said, “You know how the common folk love to exaggerate things.”

“This Naomi is truly a powerful weapon.” Oshira rumbled, “Had she been born a Rothwolfe, she would have surpassed the likes of Okami.”

Uzai nodded in agreement. Suddenly, his face brightened and he snapped his fingers.

“Speaking of which, I just spoke to Hanny boy earlier. He said he wants to train with Okami!”

The young Rothwolfe glared at the old man who winked in return.

Oshira scoffed, “As if Okami is worth learning from. I would much prefer Aisha, although she is an insufferable wench.”

Oshira’s right hand shot up and smacked a bolt of metal away as if it were a fly. The blade ripped through the tent and struck a fat squirrel that had been stuffing acorns in its mouth.

The animal squealed and hit the ground dead. Young wolf cubs came and tore the creature apart, growling and fighting as they did so.

A single shaft of moonlight punched through the hole in the tent and shone on the smooth table.

Uzai turned to Aisha who’d been lounging rather quietly in the corner until then.

“Isha, sweetheart!” He cried, “I didn’t even see ya’ there, pal. How ya’ been?”

The woman was older than Okami, not quite as introverted but just as deadly if not deadlier.

She wore a vintage sleeveless vest with large buttons, a draping battle skirt splashed with symbols, dark trousers choked below the knees by archaic shin guards and split toe leather socks.

Her forearms were consumed by iron gauntlets as she stroked the head of the sofa with razor sharp fingers forged in steel and long as pincers.

The way she looked at Uzai made him think she and Naomi could have been related.

“How’s the hunt going?” He persisted, “Find any prospects?”

“She refuses to settle and bear children.” Oshira rumbled, “Foolish child.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Said Uzai, “I have lots of potential suitors!”

“Sometimes I wonder why you two old men still draw breath on this earth.” Aisha retorted with icy sarcasm.

“Is that a threat?” Oshira rasped, eyeing the woman reproachfully.

“Is it?” She answered.

“Now, now, let’s not get all hot and steamy.” Uzai said. “Believe it or not, Old Man Oshira just wants what’s best for you. And so do I!”

Aisha sent her eyes to the back of her head but said no more as it would be an exercise in futility.

“So this Hanzo…” Oshira returned to the proper subject at hand, “He wishes to train with us?”

“Yep!” Uzai chirped, “Didn’t think it would be so easy!”

“Yes, it seems like things are going according to plan.”

“Indeed.” Uzai replied. “He’s coming along quite well.”

“And this thing…” Oshira looked down at the mysterious crimson energy imprisoned by the talisman. “You say that this was hovering above Anilyx. It seems to be an amalga. Does this not remind you of something?”

Uzai grinned but this time, his grin was truly sinister. Rows of pearly whites shimmered in the glow of the candle flames.