Jade Island

I lean against the old wooden railing at the entrance of the small village I live in, and gaze out into the ocean. The sun is starting to rise over the ocean making the normal sparkling blue waters looks red and orange with fire.

I brushed my bangs from my face with a small smile pulling at my lips. The ocean has always been my favorite part of this island. It is so vast and full of mysteries just waiting to be discovered. Just waiting for travelers to explore its depths. I just wish I was lucky enough to be one of those people.

I sigh escapes my lips. I stretch my arms over my head and start walking back to the dojo. Training will start soon.

Jade Island is a special island in the New World. See Jade Island is the place that the best swordsmen in the world came to train or fight for the right to be best in the dojo or dare I say best in the world. However the man that is declared the best swordsmen in the world, doesn't come around much, just comes whenever he feels like it which makes me upset and frustrated. Sparring with him was the only way I actually felt like I was getting any better on this island anymore.

I walk through the village to go to the top of the hill at where the dojo sits. The village and the dojo themselves, like everything else on this island, are very plane. All the buildings have a very traditional Japanese architecture and are painted very bland and neutral colors. This island only has a very small amount permanent residences. Those being the sensei at the dojo and the people who helped with basic living: grocers, tailors, doctors, etc. Other than that most of the village is made up of students or passing swordsmen who want to sharpen their skills.

This didn't bother me too much however. I get to hear the tales that travelers told. Some of them sounds so unreal. Tales about giants and mermaids would dance through the air at the local pub. Tales of the war against the world government and White Beard were told in hushed tones like the people were feeling a heavy lost for the man.

Pirates. I never really had an opinion about them much. The stories that were told about White Beard made me almost want to respect them. A man that cared that much for his crew mates or as he called them his sons, could not be a bad man in my mind. On the other hand some pirates swept through the ocean killing without mercy, like the pirate known as Black Beard. Even thinking about the stories people tell about him makes even me want to cringe.

I started to ascend the 134 stone stairs. (Yes I counted you get bored on such a small island) As I made my way a sweet scent filled my nose. The cherry trees that paralleled the stairs were in full bloom.

When I reached the top of the hill and turned around and gazed at the village from above. From up here you could see every part of town, even all the way to the beach. Up here the ocean became even more unfathomably large. It made me wonder if even my small pin pick of an island would make a difference if it just vanished. Regarding my philosophical thoughts of the morning, I head to far right entrance to the dojo where the housing is.

My feet don't even make a noise as the pad down the hallway. The only thing that acknowledges that this is my room is a small wooden number 1 with a W next to. Meaning I was the first room in the west hall. I slide the door open and step foot into my room. Like the rest of the island it is small, neutral, and a traditional Japanese style. I have my sleeping mat on the floor with the white sheets made. The only other things that are in the room is a small table in the middle of the room, a desk bellow the small circular window, and dresser. I was raised to believe that the only things that a swordsman need to survive was a sword. Unnecessary distractions would make me a sloppy, unworthy swordsman.

I open my dresser and take out a black tank top, lose fitting maroon pants and my black boots. I change into them and tuck my pants into my books and grab my katana, attach it to the belt of my pants, and head toward the training grounds.

Instead of walking through the dojo to get to the training grounds every day, I talk a short cut through a garden in the complex. This way I don't have to sense people staring at me as a walk through the compound.

On my way through the garden, I stop and look into the koi pond. I see a distorted reflection of myself. My short black hair and my gold eyes stare back at me. No matter how many times I stare at myself my face always has a hard set appearance, so serious, I would say almost terrifying. I bend down and pick a smooth pebble, rub it between my fingers, and throw it into the water making my reflection disappear.

I step into the dojo. It smells dimly of sweat but mostly of the cedar incense burning. The sensei say it is to set a relaxing mood but I honestly think it is to just mask the smell.

I walk silently across the bamboo mats greeting those who pass me. Those who have been here the longest have less strained smiles on their faces but those who are newer seemed to be shocked that I am greeting them and give and shaky scared hello then walk away with their head down.

I slide the doors open to the back of dojo to the outside training grounds. I lightly rest my rough hand on my sword Kokushibyō. I have spent every single day, morning to night, here training since I came to this island. I breathe deeply pushing forward before any memory of the past resurface.

One of my previous sensei, Gin, steps out onto the sparring field. He is an older man about 60. He is completely bald and his wrinkles are starting to deepen but by far he is the strongest man on this island. I bow and put Kokushibyō down and picked up a wooden practice sword that was carved for me to mimic the weight of my sword. I exhale and the sparring begins.

It is only about an hour until the sliding opens. I put my wooden sword down and pick up Kokushibyō's black hilt and reattach it to my belt. Let the games begin.

The first is a young man. He is tan with wild red hair and thick black eye brows. He is just shy of towering at seven feet tall. To add to that he is built beyond belief and stands heavy on his feet. The man is dressed is a simple blue kimono that is exposing his thick red chest hair. His white pants and black boots are peaking out of the bottom of his kimono.

He stepped over to Gin and bowed, "I would like to challenge you, the champion, of this dojo. I am impressed by the fact you have not lost a match in over 5 years. "Then the man's laugh boomed out, "however today the day that I take you is down and become the strongest here!"

What a cocky bastard. I thought. But just like the rest of them I don't think he will last 30 seconds.

Gin smiles softly at the man, "Hohoho I am sorry to say that I am not the strongest swordsmen here. That swordsmen over there has been the strongest here for quite a long time."

The man looked over at me and stared blankly with his mouth hung open "the strongest swordsmen on Jade Island, the island known for the world's best swordsmen, is... is... is... a WOMEN!"

I stride forward and draw Kokushibyō. The black blade shines in the early light of day. Even though I am five feet nine inches I look down on the man glaring at him, "draw you sword or do you have too much pride to fight against the best."

He visibly steps back. Then looks around as if to confirm that the whole thing is a joke. My eyes do not waiver. He shakes his head and scoffs at me and mutters to himself that defeating me will be easy.

He doesn't even last 20 seconds.

I am towering over him with the tip of my sword resting on his throat. The man's eyes are wide with terror and I can feel his whole body trembling beneath my blade. His eyes change over to a show an irrational anger in them, "this can't be real. You're a women . . . this has to be some kind of set up!"

He jerks his body forward thinking it would push me back, but the only thing he manages to do is to cut his own throat this my blade. I have the pleasure of the man squirm out from underneath holding his hand to his neck. Some of the blood seeps out through his fingers and drips on the grass staining it with his filth. He screams at me, "You bitch! You blasted demon!" He picks up his now broken sword and runs off to get medical attention.

I whip the blood off my sword. Kokushibyō does not deserve such punishment as being covered in that scums rotten blood.

"Arya must you be so harsh on them," Gin said giving me a weary look.

"They should know what true swordsmanship is and to not underestimate me just because I am a women." I put my sword in its sheath and wait for the next challenger.