It is said that a blacksmith puts a piece of himself into each weapon he makes, and that piece grows into a life of its own if encouraged by the wielder: if it's given a name, shown care in its upkeep, and shares in the glory of victory. But where a normal katana had two weeks to contemplate its existence before it was complete, I was forged in mere minutes, my material more advanced then what any mortal blacksmith ever had access to, tempered with skills that none could ever hope of acquiring, and a higher level of consciousness then what many swords obtain over a lifetime of service. In this early state, only one thing was certain: I was made for a greater purpose then most weapons. But what that was, I had no idea.
It wasn't a reassurance to see similar confusion on the face of who I assumed would be my wielder, a disheveled Japanese man who seemed just as surprised as I that I existed. A sword wants a knowing hand to carry it, to use it smartly in battle and not flail wildly. If I was forged by gods, I wanted an equally worthy owner.
My fears dissipated as my wielder grabbed my tsuka, my handle, a strong, practiced grip, and led me through some motions to get accustomed to my weight and balance. Clearly I was not his first sword, but hopefully I would be his last, his first choice when a weapon was needed. Like any hopeful youth, I was impatient for my first battle, but I did not fidget or attempt to guide my wielder. If the gods made me so quickly for a mortal hand, then battle was close at hand, and I chose to have faith in my master.
In less than an hour after my forging, battle was upon us, and I inwardly smiled as I gazed upon my opponent, a giant that emanated power similar in nature to the gods who created me. So this was my purpose, I was to bring down a monster beyond the mortal realm. I hungered for my first bite of flesh, and it was sweeter than I could have imagined, heat radiating through my cold steel, like the first beam of light to illuminate a mountain cave that had not seen the sun in a millennia. Do not dull my blade on human flesh when there is evil personified to defeat!
Battle was swift, my wielder was a master swordsman and it was pure joy to be held by him. I moved with such speed and grace, cutting the monster's flesh like butter, no matter how many times he regenerated. This was going to be a very happy partnership.
I smiled proudly as I absorbed my vanquished opponent's essence into my blade, feeling him struggle against me to no avail. I am a mighty blade; evil's bane. No one can stand against my master and me! I boasted, though my opponent had no reaction. Could he even hear me, magical being though he was?
"Now let the sword forever banish this evil abomination," my wielder declared before stabbing me deep into the ground, expelling the evil essence into a trap that he could not escape.
The sword? Was that to be my name? Rather disappointing if you ask me. After such a battle, I thought I would be given the name of my fallen foe, a warning to others that if the all-powerful Aku could be bested by me, no others would stand a chance. After such a glorious battle, did we not bond? Was I nothing but a tool to him? Or perhaps he was just too distracted to give me a name at the moment as he ran towards someone's cry. It wasn't fear of more violence that guided him, but worry and concern for someone's well-being. I could feel it in his grip.
How strange, watching my master go from a confident warrior, unafraid of the monster before him, to be struck dumb by the sight of a woman and a babe in her arms. Relations, I wonder? Ultimately, was our battle fought for her and the child? It must have been, as I felt love loosen his fingers and I dropped to the ground. I'll forgive him this disrespect, as he staggered towards the two, like he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. His family, I concluded as he picked me up while holding the infant with the other hand, vowing to forever defend them from Aku, now my family. People I would protect until my steel broke under the strain. The child, drawn by his own curiosity, stared at his reflection in my blade, and I stared back, acknowledging my future master-to-be. We were both born under the shadow of Aku; no doubt I would be passed onto him when he came of age.
Eight years passed. I spent most of my days in peace, resting on a shrine in the throne room, being admired by many castle staff and visitor alike as the blade that brought down a great demon. My wielder, the Emperor of Japan, practiced with me daily, and I accompanied him on every trip outside the castle grounds. I rarely saw real combat, cutting more straw dummies and wooden weapons then flesh. I was still "the sword," but those words were always said with such reverence, so I accepted the unimaginative name.
I enjoyed my time, not envying blades of guards that were often bloodied from dealing with bandits in the hills. I dislike cutting through human flesh: too tough, too messy, nothing like the clean, quick cuts into Aku's flesh and the satisfaction of triumphing over evil. I was too great to be used for such basic deeds. Defeating a great evil and protecting my family was my only concern. Many swords hate peace time, they yearn for the violence and conquering their opponents. I had my great battle; I have the admiration of all who spend time in the castle, and I have my family to watch over and protect. Even if I never see real fighting again, I am content.
I watched the young prince grow up into an energetic boy, frequently practicing with his wooden sword, no doubt pretending he is wielding me and we are fighting many monsters together. If only he and I knew how prophetic that quaint thought was, but we do know that is destiny that we should be together. He often sits at the foot of my shrine, staring up at me, but never makes one move to climb my steps and touch me, even when no other eyes are upon us. When out and about with his father, he is fond of asking questions about me, but not once has he ever asked to hold me. It's as if he is patient enough to wait for the sacred day when he is declared worthy of becoming my new master.
If only it played out as either of us imagined…
When Aku returned, I was not angry at myself for not permanently ending the threat against my family. I was thrilled to taste of his delicious flesh again and repeat the glorious battle we had before. Aku anticipated this and thwarted the Emperor and my plans before we could even start. Had I grown too cocky, facing only mere mortals and nothing like the danger that was Aku in the past eight years? Should I have wanted the demon's death rather than possible chance of resurrection? I spent seventeen years brooding on these very questions.
With the Emperor in Aku's grasp, we were powerless against him. The Empress spirited the young prince and I away from danger. The prince was sent on a long journey to train into a fine warrior so he could avenge his father and his people against the terrible demon. I was hidden away in a mountain temple with the Empress and the best of the Honor Guard, awaiting his return.
I learned humility in those long years. My shrine that demanded admiration was replaced by a hidden alcove inside a statue. My display rack, carved of oak by the finest wood smith in the kingdom, gone. My bed was a gi the Empress had lovingly sewn for her son's anticipated return. Darkness was my most frequent visitor, making me reflect on Aku and his evil ways. I learned to hate it, to fear the dark as the prince did when he was just a babe. He took solace from his parents, and I learned to take solace from the gi and all it symbolized. One day, it and I would join the prince on an epic battle against Aku, and this time I would end his wretched existence for good. No one should know this fear, this dread, this sense that you are completely at the mercy of evil.
I barely reacted when the statue opened and light touched my handle, not caring that the gi and I were lifted out of our home. I lost count of how many times this occurred, always thinking the prince had returned, only to have my hopes dashed when it was only for maintenance, making sure I was pristine condition for when the prince returned. I had almost resigned myself to this purgatory, the endless darkness, forever waiting for a hero who would never come. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, just numbly waiting for my sheath to be removed and the stone to be run down my blade. The same old routine…
Instead, the Empress knelt before me, hands clasped in prayer. This was not typical and it woke me from my stupor. My gaze moved to a stranger garbed in fur, mimicking her pose. Strangers never came, but no one reacted violently either. The stranger was expected…could it be? The stranger grabbed my sheath, raising me high, his eyes narrowed in determination. The prince! He has returned. A swordsman's grip on my tsuka, skill and strength guiding me through increasingly difficult maneuvers, slicing the air with precision movement, my soul was light once more. I was a sword. I had a wielder. I had a purpose. I was going to slay Aku once and for all.
Slung on the prince's hip, we rode in silence. I silently rejoiced at the sensation of sunlight and wind and the wide expanse of land before us. Such freedom compared to my previous cramped quarters! But I was not blind to the desolation that Aku brought to the land. Aku's statues were everywhere, replacing the trees. Weeds struggled to survive in the dry dirt, and the sky was brown from all the dust blowing. The prince said nothing, but I could feel his body tense, his anger at the destruction of his homeland, and I knew we shared the same desire to make things right.
A mine was our first stop. Scouts within the Honor Guard confirmed that the Emperor was a prisoner inside. We had to free him. Silence continued to be my master's dominating trait as we walked through the mine, trying to find him, ignoring everyone else around us. Was the man a mute?
"Here's some water, my Emperor." The child's voice rang out like a bell, and the snap of the whip a crack of thunder. Our pace quickened, and the prince grabbed the whip before it descended upon my former master, throwing the would-be attacker a safe distance away.
"Insubordinate fool! No one attack's Aku's minions. Destroy him!"
So they weren't human then? Good, very good. I smiled as 10 figures were reflected in my blade. I had waited so long for a fight, especially my first with my new master. His hands were quick, we never stopped, easily flowing from one motion to another. My steel cut what I can only describe as solid shadow, ending their lives with a single cut, until nothing but black smoke and red fabric were left. I admired our handiwork for a moment, until I was brought down hard against the metal chain binding the Emperor's hands. I thought nothing of the material I had just cut through. I wish I did, considering how accustomed I would soon become to it.
"What has happened to our land, Father?"
The mute speaks!
"My son, it has been many years since that fateful day that Aku returned from his imprisonment. Enslaved, we have become, to unearth the riches of our land so that Aku can strengthen his powers and begin to take over the world."
"Do not worry, Father, for with the power of this sword, I will vanquish Aku, sending him back into the pit of hate from which he came."
Yes! I will not fail this time. I shall exterminate his evil soul from ever infecting this world again!
"No!" My former master cried, striking me from the prince's hand. "I thought once like you, but the sword is only a tool. What power has it compared to the hand that wields it? Evil is clever and deception is its most powerful weapon. Let the sword guide you to your fate but let your mind set free the path to your destiny."
We both listened intently to his words, taking them to heart, though it did hurt to be reminded that despite my unique origin, I was still just a weapon, helpless without a hand to wield me, and useless against Aku if anyone but a skilled swordsman held me. He and I had to be a team for this to work, and I aspired to be in complete synchronization with him.
We left with a promise of victory and determination in our hearts. We would not fail. We could not fail. Aku haunted us both since birth, forever in the shadows, waiting to strike. It was time to end this, to flush out the darkness with the holiest of light. My master challenged Aku to appear, and I was filled with righteous fury when he showed himself, anxious to attack, but my former master was right. I had to trust my wielder's instincts and skill and only strike when it was right. The trust paid off, as I tasted of the wonderful flesh while the demon was busy boasting that he was invincible.
"That sword. I remember that blade. I recognize your blood. You are the son of the fool who imprisoned me those many years ago. No matter. Neither he nor the sword had the power to slay me forever. And neither do you."
We shall see.
Dodging, darting, slicing, in its own way, the battle mirrored that of the Emperor 25 years before, but I did not let myself get cocky this time. Too much was at stake; I had to keep it together. I flew true, impaling him on my blade, and absorbed him with even more strength then before, sucking him dry of energy so he couldn't move against us. With pleasure, I expelled his essence onto the stone, reveling in his weak state.
If only honor didn't get in the way. If my master didn't give Aku a chance to speak, maybe what was to come would be avoided. I trusted him. I did not try to influence him, though I doubt he would have understood me. We fell prey to the Emperor's warning: Evil is clever and deception is its most powerful weapon. But what was done was done, and now we were to wander in Aku's hellish future, looking for a way back to the past.