Becoming:
A Blademaster's Tale
The Village of the Oppressed they call it now, but I just knew it as home. I still don't know quite what happened that night, it was dark and I was so very young. It must have been some powerful force of Evil that murdered that entire village that night as the fires still burn, or so I'm told.
They call me Nanashi now, because I have no memory of what my parents called me and I haven't been back since some hero found me, alone and naked in the ashes, and took me into the city of Etherblade. The Elder here is a kind man, and he took pity on me that day. Fang the Tailor in the back end of the city needed a new assistant, so I was sent to her to train. It's always been a lousy job, picking stray fibres from the loom with my small fingers, fetching and carrying all manner of stinking chemicals for Fang. The pay is even worse than the job, but I also get room and food enough to keep me better than the people I see in the streets every day, so every night I thank my lucky stars as I watch the sun set and cast a bloody light across the enormous stone sword which gave the city its name, that I'm even still alive.
It was one of those clear night that I asked Fang what happened to her last assistant. She told me of his dreams; to become a hero, to travel to Archosaur and train there with the mighty General Summer. Fang spoke of the General with such awe and respect, but I have never heard of him. My mistress told me more that night, of how only the finest young people who had proven their worth to the Elder could become heroes and travel all of Pangu.
Naturally, my head was filled with dreams of heroism, images of men and women in noble battle for their country, for their world. For the next few days, I coasted through my chores in my dream world, doing everything subconsciously, automatically, until Fang spoke to me this afternoon.
"I need you to go on a special errand, outside of the city, for me." She spoke as she folded some cheap leather, "There's a type of beetle, and their blood makes a wonderful royal blue dye, and also helps imbue the magic properties of some robes. But I've run out and there's going to be an influx of buyers any time soon, as its the weekend."
I just stood and listened mutely, Fang was always likely to chatter her way through for half an hour when something was important.
"Could you go out and get me some blood, please? You can have the rest of the day off once you get back."
Now that got my attention. My mistress was not a cruel one, but it had to be an extra special occasion to make her let me have even a minute's break, let alone half a day. Bless her she must have been desperate.
"Alright," I said, "what do I need to do?"
And so, I was sent out with a slightly rusty old shortsword, three bottles and directions to go out of the south gate. With a light breeze throwing my shoulder length hair away from my face, I looked down over the trees and river, the sweet scent of wildlife washing away the acrid tang of bleach and the smoke of town.
The path wound down the hill before me, the cobbles worn and uneven under my old shoes. At least it wasn't raining that day, as I made my way south. The Inn of the Eagle is what I was told to head for, but I couldn't see why it was anything to do with an Eagle, and the inn itself was well past its heyday, but that's where the beetles are.
A large blue flash between the tree trunks caught my attention, unnatural among the browns and greens of the woods. A creature about the height of my waist, and twice as long emerged from the trees, an intimidating creature for anyone as inexperienced as I was, with horns longer than my arms. And yet, it was grazing so peacefully among the small native wolves in the trees, it seemed no more harmful than a cow.
I took a deep breath before stepping as stealthily as I could towards the beetle. It didn't seem to mind as I approached it, keeping as quiet as I could be, and still the beetle remained unmoving. One foot in front of the other, I crept closer to the shining blue creature, my breath slow and ragged, my heart beating fast and seeming too loud against the pure sounds of nature as for no logical reason, I reached out and touched the beetle. It shuddered a little as my hand came into contact with its cool, smooth shell, and turned its black head towards me, still chewing a mouthful of grass. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding as it made a small keening sound before turning back to the forest floor, an ironic sort of laugh escaping my lips. So much tension over something so gentle.
It was then I realised what I had come here to do, and a wave of pity washed over me. A poor harmless creature, sacrificed to the noble cause of a pretty frock. But if I came back with nothing, I was surely out of the job, and that meant no food and no bod. So, it was a case of him or me and I'm afraid I was the higher species in that situation. The pity was replaced by a numb emptiness, a sort of unfeeling cool that came from my core, spreading with a sense of strength into my limbs.
"I'm sorry, little one." I whispered over the beetle's head, then thrust the blade of my rusty sword into the soft part between its head and shell, right to the hilt. The creature let out a terrible, piercing screech that scattered the rest of the wildlife as I tried to pull my sword back out of the beetle. My hand was slippery with its thick, blue blood and I hung on for my dear life as it bucked and swung its huge horns from left to right, scoring a long gash into my left side before I could get a foothold on the soft moss and drag the sword sideways, tearing through the poor creature's flesh with a sickening, wet sound before it gave a strangled gurgle and finally came to rest, dead on the floor if the now silent forest.
I lay there too, motionless except for the heaving of my chest, the air burning my tired lungs. My eyes closed, I could feel the sticky beetle blood cooling and congealing on my hands and arms, the slow throb of the gash in my side, the needless calm that somehow felt offensive after the death of the poor beetle. As the feeling came back into my heart, I began at first to feel tired, then sick, then both, and finally a small sob escaped with a harsh breath. My head was left spinning as I lay there, staring at the sun and thinking how everything should be that little bit more dark now.
Such is the feeling after you first kill a sentient creature.