Chapter 1
"Higher daddy! Faster!" an eight-year-old little girl cried.
Her father, a tall man in his thirties laughed. He had a face that had faced much hardship, along with some small, grey stubble growing on his chin. He was dressed in a grey-green robe that stretched down to his knees, along with a dark-yellowish belt that extended around his robe just below his waist. He also had a small circle of the same color directly above where his heart would be with a lone character in the exact center of the small shape. It read a single word: ''Honor."
His daughter was dressed in the same outfit, but in a smaller size. He was gripping her hands in his and swinging her around in a circle, and she was loving every second of it. The world was a blur to her, and all she could see at this point was her father's face, but that was all she cared about at this moment in time. Her father's young figure, along with his grey hair, made a strange combination, but she was too young to care. She loved him immensly, and he knew it enough to return her love.
He stopped revolving and set her down. As he turned for the final time, she jumped out of his hands and yelled back, "Come on, Daddy! Let's go!" She then ran off into the orange setting sun. As he spun on his heel to follow her, he spotted a lone, white blemish on a darkened red rose bush. His expression turned from joy to surprise for a moment, but then turned back to joy as he ran to follow his daughter.
As the man finally caught up to his daughter, she had picked a good number of red roses, and she turned and put them in his hand. "For you, Daddy," his daughter spoke silently. The man brought the roses up to his face and stared for a moment, as if looking for something, then lowered the small bushel, and smiled at his child.
"Come, honey. It's getting late," he said, simultaneously grabbing her hand and walking off toward their home. For a few minutes, the only sound that could be heard from the pair were footsteps hitting the pavement of the walkway leading to a grand, almost palace-like home. It was extremely large, with a red roof, and many tinted windows, as if to block intruders from eavsdropping or spying on the small family of father and daughter.
As they reached the porch, he led his small daughter inside, then quietly extinguished the many lanturns lighting the porch, as if blemishing the final bit of light from the entire world. With a final look around, the father walked inside and closed the door.
The tall man then took his daughter by the hand for the final time of the night, and led her through the tunnel-like hallways of the immense house to her bedroom. When they arrived, he tucked her in rapidly and said a hurried good-night. He then extinguished the lanturn and closed her bedroom door.
After putting his daughter to bed, her father then quietly walked to the kitchen, still clutching his daughter's gift of the roses, and got out two glasses of water. For the first glass, he tenderly slipped the flowers into the cup and set it on the table. The second, he swiftly drank, but after empty, his hand was badly trembling, so the glass slipped out of his grip and shattered on the floor. Then, he grabbed a broom and threw the shards out the window into a sewer pipe. He then retired to his own bedroom.
The man's bedroom was larger with a large book propped open on the desk. He picked up a small feather quill and began to write...
"Day 63. The Infinites are closing in. Mai and I are not safe here. Planning to move across the town in a few days. The..."
A triad of slashes, a red color...then nothing...
Mai Yui woke with a start. She should not have been surprised. The same dream had been attacking her mind for the past week. Each night, she had stealthly walked to her father's room to check on him. Why should tonight be any different?
Again, she walked quietly along the labyrinth-like hallways to check that her father was still safe. As she opened the door, it began to creak. She backed away for a moment, but looking through the crack in the door, she could see, even with the small handicap, that her father was snoring and breathing normally, his diary was still in place, and the broadswords were still hanging on the wall. She had always admired her father's skill with broadswords, but always feared to ask for training. The hilts of the swords were made of pure gold, while her father never let a day go by without sharpening them. Quietly, she pushed the door closed and snuck back to bed.
As Mai climbed back into bed, she tried to let sleep overtake her again, but she had too many questions in her head. Why was the dream constantly returning? What was it about? Would it come true?
No, Mai thought. I will not ever let this dream come true. My father will live long enough to see me grow into a warrior, and maybe I'll even fight by his side one day.
And with that joyful thought, sleep returned to her mind, and she fell into unconciousness.