Chapter 2: Burden of the Past

Karel opened his eyes. From the sound of the chirping birds, he had woken up later than he expected. He brushed the thought aside; it didn't matter much at this point. He pulled over his gray robe and boots and buckled his belt. He went over to splash his face with some water when he saw the flap of his tent open. He caught a glimpse of the small figure as a small grin formed on his face.

"You can come in, Karla," he called out.

A girl of eleven years of age burst in and jumped onto his back, nearly causing him to faceplant into the basin of water.

"Good morning, brother!" said Karla cheerfully.

"Good morning to you too, Karla," said Karel. He tried to reach for the towel but with his sister's tight grip couldn't move his arms that well. "Just how long do you intend to remain attached to my back?"

His sister buried her head further into his robe. "I don't know. Maybe ask me after I take a nap."

Karel reached around and grabbed her arm, managing to pry her off of him before setting her down. "The nap will have to wait for later, I'm afraid."

"How was the job with Peta?" asked Karla. Whenever he returned from his jobs, Karla always asked him about it. She would ask about everything, the job itself, the places they went, the people they met, and even the food they ate. His mother always chided Karla for being nosy but Karel enjoyed indulging her curiosity. With the clan laws, Karla wasn't allowed to leave the clan like he was.

"Rather uneventful, frankly," admitted Karel as he dried his face with a cloth towel. "Our quarry didn't do a good job covering their tracks making it easy to find them. We had the job done within two days."

"Peta was bragging that it was like crushing bugs," said Karla.

Karel let out a sigh. "Peta is always disappointed when there isn't more of an opportunity for him to swing his sword. It's why he always will take bandit extermination jobs, even if the pay is low."

Karla nodded. "He and Chayton are always like that. Uncle says they have steel for brains sometimes," she added with small laugh.

Karel grinned. "I'm not that surprised. Those two tend to swing first, ask questions later."

Karla flopped backwards onto his straw mat. Her gray-black hair, the same color as his, lay strewn out around her head. "I wish I could go and see some of these places."

"Someday, you'll be able to," reassured Karel.

She sat back up. "You really think so?" Her tone carried a trace of doubt in it.

"Not even mother spent her whole life here," said Karel. "You'll get your chance. Just be patient." Karla nodded, seeming to accept that answer. "Come on, let's go."

Karla got up and started to follow her brother out the tent when he poked her lightly in the forehead. She looked up at him and gave a pout. He only smiled and continued out to the camp. As he stepped out into the camp, his grin faded back to a neutral expression.

"Oi, Karel!" greeted Peta as he wrapped an arm around Karel's collar. "'Bout time you woke up!"

"We were starting to worry that maybe you got overworked on the job," joked Chayton as he joined them. It was hard to believe that Peta and Chayton were in fact related by blood at times. Peta had inherited his mother's black hair and slender build while Chayton had inherited his father's gray hair and muscular body.

"I still bet that our little brother was just having a pleasant dream," commented Peta with a wink. Peta let out a laugh while Chayton just smiled.

"All jokes aside, Father wants to see you this evening," said Chayton. "He said it was time for your next training session with him."

Karel nodded. "All right."

"You certainly know how to put a damper on things," sighed Peta. "Good luck out there, little brother. Father Sky knows he's been stepping up the training of late."

"Father isn't going to live forever," said Chayton. "Given that Karel is almost a man, it will soon be time for him to determine who will succeed him as head of the clan." Chayton locked his gaze with Karel's for a moment. Of his two brothers, Chayton was the one most intent upon inheriting the clan title. Given Karel's skill with the blade, an unspoken rivalry had bloomed between the two of late.

"Implying any of us can defeat Father," remarked Karel. Peta chuckled while Chayton didn't say anything.

"Karel's right. Even you've got a lot of work before you can even think of challenging Father for the clan treasure," said Peta with a slap on Chayton's back. "We've probably kept you long enough."

"Where are you two going?" asked Karla.

"Know your place, Karla," reprimanded Chayton. "We may be siblings, but our laws exist for a reason. It is not a woman's place to pry into a man's business."

Karla nodded. "My apologies, brother."

"That's enough, Chayton." Karel placed himself between Karla and his brother.

"You coddle her too much," criticized Chayton. "She cannot remain a child forever and will soon enough have to learn there is a way a woman acts in this clan. You are only making it harder on her in the long run."

"Guys, let's take a step back here," said Peta as he held his arms up in surrender. "Chayton and I are off to see about a new job that Hanks supposedly has."

"We should go," Chayton all but spat.

"Yeah, I think you should," countered Karel. He continued to glare at Chayton until the two turned and left.

"I should get going as well," said Karla.

He nodded, giving her a small smile. "Off to help mother?"

"Nope! Some of the other girls and I are going to pick some herbs and greens for dinner. Mother's letting me go this time," explained Karla.

"Be careful. It can be easy to get lost in the plains."

Karla merely nodded and smiled. "Don't worry. I'll be fine brother."

He watched her run off to join the small group of girls with their straw-woven baskets. He couldn't help but remember when that group used to be much bigger. He resumed his trek past the tents until he saw his Uncle Raidal and his son Samal.

"Was wondering when you'd see fit to join us, Karel," joked his uncle. "Firewood isn't just going to find itself you know."

Karel cracked a half-smile. "Sorry Uncle."

"Ah, don't worry about it. This old man is just teasing. Samal only got here a few minutes ago anyway." His uncle elbowed Samal lightly in the gut.

"Guilty as charged, I guess," Samal offered with a nervous laugh.

The trio journeyed to the northeast, near the border of Ilia and Sacae. As the plains slowly turned into mountains, the tall grass was replaced by a much shorter variety and also by some of the sturdy pine trees famous throughout Ilia. There was not much need for wood beyond kindling and fueling the fire in the clan. Tents were built from animal skin and twine, supported only by a few beams to frame them. Many of the items, from baskets to hats, were woven from the thick and flexible straw grass commonly found across the plains of Sacae.

The three crested a hill and reached a small grove of tall pines that they often frequented. Samal handed Karel one of his baskets and they began the long process of looking for firewood.

"It's funny," said Raidal. "I've been coming here for over thirty years, and every time I come here, I find something new and exciting." He held up a pinecone at least twice as big as his hand to prove his point.

"Father, don't you think you have enough of those as is? If you bring any more back, you're hardly going to have space to sleep in your tent," said Samal.

"No worries son. I'll just start storing the extras in your tent!" His uncle let out a hearty laugh.

"I can only imagine the look on Kiri's face when we suddenly have a pile of pinecones sitting in the tent," said Samal with a sigh. "She'd have my ass faster than a wolf on a deer."

Karel grabbed a piece of wood that had fallen off the tree naturally. There was something he enjoyed about the pine grove. Perhaps it was simply because it was so unlike anything else he had seen in Sacae. The smell of the pine permeated the air and the feel of the needles beneath his boots stood in stark contrast to the grasses of the plains. When he was here, he felt like he was truly somewhere else.

Samal nearly tripped over a root but managed to catch himself at the last minute. Upon seeing Karel, he dismissed the incident with a laugh, his hand attempting to straighten out his disheveled gray hair. While he wasn't particularly close to Samal, Karel did enjoy his company. He was earnest and hard working. He may not have been a warrior, but his skill with medicines and herbs was second to none. Not even his father could deny the use of someone like that.

"You've been unusually quiet, Karel. Something eating at you?" asked his uncle as he joined him.

Karel looked up at his uncle and gave him a sincere smile. "It's nothing, really."

His uncle sighed. "Come now, Karel. This old timer has known you long enough to know when you're trying to hide something and when you actually mean it."

His smile disappeared back into the neutral stoic expression he usually bore. "It's nothing much. Chayton and I got into a little argument before I met up with you."

"Ah, Chayton. The one everyone expects to succeed Ryland. Well, almost everyone," he added with a wink. "This old goat has noticed that the two of you have been getting into arguments much more often of late."

"Probably because he sees me as a rival for succession," said Karel. "He tends to criticize a lot of what I do, such as how I treat Karla."

His uncle nodded knowingly. "Chayton is trying to distinguish himself from you. No doubt he is hoping to show to everyone, including your father, just how great of a man he has become, and that he is ready to assume the mantle of leadership."

"If he thinks he is better than father though, then he needs his head checked. His swordsmanship is still lacking," remarked Karel, a small smirk on his face.

"Yes, Ryland always was a remarkable swordsman, even now," remarked Raidal to no one in particular.

"It's his only redeeming quality," muttered Karel.

His uncle let out a sigh. "It looks like our job here is done. Why don't we head on back? By the time we get there, I'm sure Cheza and your Aunt Marel will have something wonderful ready for lunch."

Karel didn't say anything and only nodded. The two regrouped with Samal and began the trek from the forest to the plains.

-x-

Something felt off when they returned to camp. Karel could feel it even before he saw his cousin Reyn dashing towards them. He stopped before them hunched over, his chest heaving.

"Raidal…you have to…help them," gasped Reyn in between breaths.

Raidal placed his basket in Samal's care. He knelt beside Reyn. "Slow down, young Reyn. Just what has happened?"

"It was the Iorin clan!"

The hairs on the back of Karel's neck stood up at hearing the name.

"The Iorin clan? What happened?" pressed Raidal.

"They…" Reyn took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "I was escorting Karla along with my sisters when suddenly we were jumped by a group of warriors from the Iorin clan. I knew right away from the tattoo on their arms."

"What happened to them?" demanded Karel. His voice may have been harsh but at the moment he didn't care. "What happened to Karla?"

"I…I don't know," Reyn almost whispered. "The girls scattered, trying to escape them. I tried to fight them but I was gravely outnumbered. I came back here hoping to find help but everyone was gone."

"So you ran back here with your tail tucked between your legs?" growled Karel. His eyes glowed with fury.

"I'm sorry!"

"How long has it been since you returned?" asked Raidal calmly.

"Only a few minutes. I-"

"Where were they?" interrupted Karel.

"T-to the north. It was in the valley where the herbs Samal uses grow," explained Reyn.

Karel turned to leave when he felt his uncle's firm grip on his shoulder. "Wait Karel, we must not act rashly. If we charge blindly in-"

"Let go, Uncle," ordered Karel. His uncle looked firmly into his eyes for a moment before finally loosening his grip. Without another word, Karel sprinted to the north at full speed.

"Was that wise, Father?" asked Samal.

"It wouldn't have mattered. If any of us had tried to stop him, Karel may very well have turned his blade against us," said Raidal as he let out a sigh. "I can promise you this much though; if Karla has been hurt in any way, I dread to think of what will happen to the Iorin."

-x-

Karla struggled against the hold of her captor. She felt him grip both her arms tightly before binding her hands with a rope. She tried to bite his hand before he backhanded her, sending her sprawling across the grass. Karla heard another of the girl's shriek, and couldn't suppress a shiver; she knew all too well what those men were doing to them. A part of her wanted to cry for being so powerless. She wasn't able to do anything while these men had their way with her friends. One man strode past her with a lecherous grin and towards her captor, now perched upon a rock with his sword over his lap.

"Sheesh, he's taking a while," he complained. "How long is Shrik going to take to deliver a challenge to those damn Daodins? If he doesn't hurry back, he's going to miss on all the fun."

"Quiet." Lee ordered as he patiently polished his steel sword in preparation the fight to come. "He'll get back when he gets back. And then we'll finally be able to get revenge on the bastards that killed my brother."

"So once we kill them, what happens to them?" asked the man as he gestured in the direction of the girl's screams. "Especially a runt like her," he said, pointing to Karla.

"We'll keep the ones we've had," replied Lee as he admired his sword in the sunlight. "As for her, she's too young to be of any benefit beyond perhaps selling her off to a slave trader."

"Seems like such a waste though," bemoaned the man with a laugh. The screams from the girls had stopped but Karla could still hear faint sobbing. Karla grit her teeth as she felt anger bubble up inside her. She wanted nothing more right now than to kill these men for what they did. If only she had power, strength, anything to stop this.

The two other men joined them, adjusting their belts as they retrieved their weapons. Lee glanced out to the field and saw a man walk in their direction.

"Feh, about time," muttered Lee. He got up from his rock. "Took you long enough Shrik. What was the hold up?"

"Sure is taking his time," muttered one of the men when they didn't get a response immediately.

"Shrik wasn't always the fastest horse if you know what I mean," snickered another.

Lee's eyes narrowed. "Shrik?"

Shrik approached the camp slowly. As he got closer, the Iorin were quickly aware that something wasn't right. He was sweating heavily and was shaking like a leaf.

"B-boss," whispered Shrik. "H-help m-"

A sword pierced him through the heart, instantly silencing Shrik. The other men drew their weapons. Lee took a defensive stance.

Shrik fell to the ground, revealing the figure that stood behind him.

"Karel!" called out Karla, relief washing over her.

Karel didn't respond and simply flicked the blood off his sword. Lee strode forward, a confident smile on his face.

"That was quick," he said with a smirk. "I hadn't expected Shrik to get to your camp and back so quickly."

"He didn't," said Karel. "I found him halfway. It was a convenient discovery."

Lee's smile vanished. "You've got guts coming here to take us all on by yourself. You missed the fun though. My boys just got done trying out the girls from your clan. We have to say, it isn't fair that you guys keep them all to yourselves." The other men snickered loudly at his comment.

"Is that how the Iorin clan works now?" asked Karel. The temperature seemed to drop almost ten degrees instantly. The other men didn't seem to notice, but Karla could see it. Her brother was furious. From the grip on his sword, it was all he could do to not leap forward and kill them on the spot.

"My brother and friends are dead because of you two!" roared Lee suddenly. He pointed his sword at Karel. "Only the blood of their killers will make amends. Pride demands that I not let his death go without judgment. You will die here and then we'll find that smart-mouthed companion of yours and kill him too!"

Karel chuckled and shook his head. "Peta killed your brother instantly and you think you can kill me? You're welcome to try."

A vein bulged in Lee's forehead. "You've got some nerve."

"I was going to tell you to leave if you don't want to die, but," said Karel with a glare, "I changed my mind. Animals like you only deserve to be slaughtered."

Lee motioned to two of him men. They nodded and strode up beside him. "I think the thing I'm going to enjoy the most is shutting up that arrogant little mouth of yours. Die!"

The trio charged. Suddenly Karel leapt forward. He was fast, faster than they had even thought possible. Karel's sword pierced through the first man's chest before he smoothly spun around to slash Lee's other companion through the throat. The third man attempted to sneak up on Karel but the prodigy swordsman lazily slid to the side before ending the attacker's life with a slash to the jugular.

Lee stood frozen to the spot, the blood of his allies surrounding him. He looked into Karel's eyes and froze. There was no sympathy in those eyes, no warmth. The only thing he could see was his body laid for dead like those around him.

"Just what the hell are you?" demanded Lee, his breath shaky. The sword was quivering in his grip.

Karel didn't respond. Lee snapped and lunged. Karel deflected the sword like it was a piece of parchment, causing Lee to nearly trip over himself. He spun around to slash only to feel Karel's grip envelop his wrist. He blinked and then saw the sword come down. The grass of the plains welcomed Lee just as it had his companions.

Karel let out a sigh before flicking the blood off his sword and returning it to his sheath. "Are you all right?" he asked in a much softer tone as he untied Karla.

"I knew you'd come brother," said Karla with a sincere smile. She could feel tears starting to stream down her face from relief. "The other girls though…"

"Don't say anymore," Karel interrupted. "I already know."

"Karel!" He glanced up and saw Reyn along with Samal running towards them. As the two got closer, Reyn and Samal stopped, their eyes wide with shock.

"Father Sky, this is awful," murmured Samal.

"Morg! Alli!" Reyn dashed over to his sisters to help them. His hands were shaking and tears were forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kept muttering it over and over again.

"Save your tears, Reyn," said Samal as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Right now we need to get them back to the camp. They will be fine, at least physically. I'll be able to prepare the draught necessary to rid their bodies of the impurity."

Reyn gripped Samal's hand tightly. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Can you really do that?" asked Karel as he helped Karla stand.

Samal nodded. "It isn't pleasant and the draught can have plenty of lingering after effects, but when you consider the alternative…"

"Banishment for the mother, death for the child," muttered Karel.

"Precisely. At least this way, they are assured that no matter what, they will have a home," said Samal. "Why don't you take Karla back? Reyn and I will take care of things here." Karel nodded and motioned for Karla to follow him. Karel quickly noticed that she was dragging behind him.

"Are you okay?"

Karla nodded. "I'm fine. I think I might have twisted my ankle though."

Karel leaned down in front of her. "Climb on."

Karla did as she was told. The sun was starting to set to the west, causing the plains to assume their red guise. He could feel Karla rest her head next to his.

"You were strong, Karla," said Karel. "You didn't cry once during that entire time, did you?"

"No," muttered Karla. "I hated it. I wanted to do something, anything, but I couldn't. I've never felt so helpless in my life."

"I'm sorry," he said with a soft voice. The two continued the journey slowly, neither speaking for several minutes.

"Your back is warm," said Karla before she let out a sigh. She wasn't shivering anymore. "It's one of the only things that hasn't changed."

"You do know there will come a day when I can't carry you on my back anymore," replied Karel.

"Yeah, you're right," said Karla softly. "These fields are so nostalgic. I miss the days when we used to play out in the fields. You, me, Peta, Chayton, and even Kain."

Karel stopped for a minute. "You remember Kain?"

"A bit," said Karla. "I remember feelings more than actual memories. Smiles, warmth, comfort. I remember that you used to always be around him, brother."

"Ah."

"We used to all have fun, even Father and Mother." Karel could feel something wet soaking into his shoulder. He was surprised to see she was crying. "I wish I could see them smile again. I wish things hadn't changed."

Karel kept walking. "So do I," he whispered.

-x-

Dusk was nearing its end as the moon started to assume the sun's place in the sky. Karel stepped back, panting heavily and his body covered in sweat despite the cool evening air. His father took a step back as well but didn't seem to show any signs of tiring. The two had been training for almost an hour straight. He had barely had time to put something in his stomach before he hurried to the training grounds.

"Good. Your progress is commendable," admitted his father, breaking the silence. It was rare that his father ever complimented him on anything, particularly his swordsmanship. Knowing his father though, that usually only meant that there was something else the man had in mind.

"Yes, I would say that it is time to begin your initiation," said his father, as though still debating the idea.

"Initiation?"

His father smiled. A shiver ran up Karel's spine whenever he saw his father smile like that. "The secret technique passed down by generations of our clan. It is the technique upon which our clan was founded."

Anticipation welled up inside him. Raidal often shared tales of the clan's famed victories and the nearly legendary swordsmanship they wielded. Regardless of his feelings towards his father, even Karel could not suppress the excitement he felt.

His father drew the Wo Dao from its sheath and pointed it at Karel, one arm fully extended. "Don't move," he ordered. "If you move even an inch from where you stand now, you will die."

He steadied his breath and did as his father instructed. His eyes focused upon the blade before him. His father took in a slow breath and let the air out. Then he moved.

There was a rush of wind all around Karel and within a second he felt the point of the Wo Dao pressing ever so lightly right against his chest. He had observed every move his father made, but the sheer speed of the attack was unlike anything he had ever seen. Had his father struck for real, he would be dead five times over. He didn't avert his gaze but he could tell from that he had been cut lightly, once in each shoulder and then once on each of his hips.

"You may recall," began his father as he stepped back, "that in all schools of swordsmanship that there are nine points of fatal attack. They include the head, the two slantwise down strikes that target the shoulders, the two horizontal strikes at the midsection, the two slantwise upward strikes, the direct upward strike, and finally the chest."

His father casually rested the Wo Dao on his shoulder and smirked. "No matter what school, be it Sacae, Lycia, Bern, or Etruria, these nine strikes remain common. As a consequence, all defensive stances were created to correspond to those nine points. If however," his father added, his smirk growing wider, "you can attack multiple points at the same time, then defense will become completely useless. This is the Daodin Clan's greatest technique, symbolized by the crest of the five falling stars: Astra."

"Astra…" Karel repeated. His father was right. Even if he had reacted to the first strike, he would have been completely defenseless against the remaining four. Even if he pushed his speed to the limit, he still would not be able to defend against all five strikes with traditional methods. This was the secret.

"I am a bit ashamed to admit that what I showed you is only a shadow of Astra's potential. For the sake of teaching you though, this should more than suffice."

"For the sake of teaching me?" repeated Karel. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb," chided his father. "Astra cannot be passed on to just any clansman. Only those who have exhibited true potential are worthy of learning this."

Karel could feel a flutter of pride in his chest. To know that he had come this far in only four years was encouraging news. He thought about it for a second before asking a question. "What about Peta or Chayton?"

His father chuckled. It was like getting splashed in the face with ice-cold water. "What about them? Neither of them is worthy of even laying eyes on the Astra technique. Furthermore, neither would be able to even perform it, even if they were given until the end of time. You should feel honored. It is a sign that you have overcome your weaknesses. All of your training for the past four years was for this moment."

"Is that right?" spoke Karel softly. His grip on his sword tightened. "In the end, it's no different is it?"

"What?" asked his father, his eyes narrowed.

"Is this any different than when you cast me into the arena against the lions? Or when you left me miles from the camp with only a sword, telling me that if I died, then it meant I was too weak? How is this any different than when you threatened to kill Karla if I didn't kill that man four years ago?" Karel could feel his anger building, like a white-hot flame spreading throughout his body. "Everything has been for the sword, to grind out my weakness when I know that's a lie! You're the one that couldn't overcome your weakness and I'm sick of you trying to bury it by hiding behind me!"

His father's usual stoicism rapidly faded to fury. "You've got some nerve, considering you wouldn't even be standing here if it weren't for me."

"Yeah, well you being there certainly didn't help Aunt Moria, Uncle Lorn, or any our fellow clansmen," said Karel, his voice building in intensity. "And it certainly didn't help Kain!"

"That is enough!" barked his father. His face was contorted by rage. Karel knew that he was crossing the line but he didn't care any longer. All of his bottled up feelings were so close that he felt like he was about to burst.

"These past four years have just been some pathetic way of dealing with your guilt. You don't care about anyone in this clan. The only thing you care about is that sword! You never even tried to avenge them!" accused Karel. "The man that slaughtered half our clan just walked out and you never even tried to find him!"

His father strode forward and dealt Karel a sharp blow to the stomach. He could feel the wind forced out of him as he crumpled to the ground. He looked up and saw his father glaring at him with complete hatred. Finally his father turned and left the hill, leaving Karel behind as well.

The words his father spoke were not surprising; Karel had speculated that such a conclusion was likely almost a year ago. He had never complained though. He needed the instruction and power his father could provide and so even when he wanted nothing more than to punch his father, he hid it and held it all back. To finally hear his father admit it though, just seemed to push him over the edge.

He tried to move, but between his exhaustion from the day and the punch his father dealt him, he could hardly move much less stand. He could feel his eyes grow heavy under the night sky as the memories played once again in his mind.

It had all started with a scream. It was his Aunt Moria, Raidal's wife, screaming when she saw Uncle Lorn stabbed through the heart by that man. She died shortly thereafter. He remembered people running all around him. The men had gone to retrieve their swords while the women were ushering the children into tents. He had felt a firm but reassuring grip around his wrist. It had been his brother Kain. Smoke began to rise from the fire that had started at the center of the camp.

He remembered Kain pulling him into a tent and the two hid there along with a small group of women and children. Kain kept his sword at his side. The tent flap opened and in stepped the man who continued to haunt his dreams. He had a blue robe that seemed to shimmer in the light of the fire. What he remembered most was the impassive, cold expression the man bore. Kain clashed with him but it was over in a heartbeat. One minute Kain stood there, the next the blue robed man was behind him, sliding his sword back into its sheath. Suddenly a massive gash tore through Kain's chest. He may have been dead before he even hit the ground.

The smoke had become much stronger. His vision became foggy as he passed out. When he came to, he realized his nightmare was reality

"Karel? Are you out here?" called a familiar voice, shaking him out of his stupor. He immediately recognized it as Uncle Raidal's voice. He tried to prop himself up but could feel his arm give way almost immediately.

"Over here, Uncle," he called out as loudly as he could.

His uncle spotted him and hurried over when he saw Karel on the ground. His uncle turned him over and gave him a quick check before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Thank Father Sky," he muttered. "Are you all right?"

"I've been better," whispered Karel, earning a smile from his uncle. Karel returned the gesture. "What are you doing out here?"

"Ryland came back to camp absolutely livid. When I asked about you, he nearly drew the Wo Dao on me. I figured since you hadn't come back that I'd better check on you," explained his uncle as he helped Karel to his feet. Karel was still too weak to stand on his own, so his uncle continued to prop him up.

"Thanks," said Karel.

"Can I ask what happened?" asked his uncle as the two began the trip back to camp.

"I called father weak," spoke Karel after a moment. "I blamed him for Kain's death along with the others."

He looked up and saw his uncle was not mad or sad. His face seemed pensive, yet accepting. "Ah, I see." He cracked a half-smile. "That would explain it."

Karel just nodded. As they reached the base of the hill, Karel found that enough of his strength had returned that he could walk on his own.

"That night," said his uncle suddenly, "has caused me many times to wonder if it was my fault."

Karel regarded his uncle with a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"Originally I was the one to inherit the clan leadership," admitted his uncle. "I did not want it though; I wished to explore the world and live life freely, not chained to some clan. I pushed my brother into the position. Ryland was earnest and skilled with a sword, but he was also emotional and young. He wasn't ready for the burden of leadership."

Karel didn't say anything, which his uncle took as an indication to continue. "He couldn't make the hard decisions. Ryland had yet to be able to divorce his emotions from his decision-making. I knew this but pushed him into it anyway." He stopped and let out a sigh. "When your father met the blue-robed swordsman, the two became fast friends. That was why it hit him especially hard when the man betrayed him."

He had never heard his uncle talk about these matters. His uncle tended to always seem so carefree. To now here these deep-rooted regrets was surprising, even if Karel's face didn't necessarily show it.

"Your father couldn't bring himself to kill a friend. And in turn, Ryland lost almost everything." His uncle cast a glance towards the starry night sky. "Deep down, I think your father wishes he had died that night, just so he could be spared the shame he faces every day he steps out of the tent. The blue robed man took so much from him, even inflicting a wound to his left arm that has forever impaired him as a swordsman."

His uncle stopped talking and the two continued the slow walk back to the camp. "He's become an empty vessel," said Karel.

"An empty vessel…you may not be too far off," remarked his uncle.

"Uncle," said Karel as he cast a glance in the man's direction, "why are you sharing all of this with me?"

His uncle had a melancholy smile. "I'm not too sure myself. Maybe it's just this old goat feeling guilty and needing to finally share it with someone."

"What about Father Sky and Mother Earth?" asked Karel.

"There are some things, that not even the gods can remedy," admitted his uncle. "Communing with spirits tends to be a very one-sided conversation I've found."

Karel stopped for a moment and looked up to the stars, the same ones he had seen that night. Nothing has changed. The stars are still the same as then, he thought bitterly. He looked back at the camp before him. This place he realized was more like a graveyard than a home. Nobody seemed able to move on; all they could do was continue to replay the events of the past time and again.

"Thank you for listening to this old man's rambling," said his uncle. "Use the information I have shared as you see fit. I understand that there are some scars that run too deep even for time to mend."

Karel only nodded before returning to his tent. He placed his sword beside him and lay down on the mat.

Even though it was the same one he had slept on for years now, it just didn't feel right. None of it did. It was like the atmosphere had changed. Now that he had confronted his father and heard his uncle's story, it was as though he could see something that could no longer be unseen. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the night sky. He knew that this couldn't continue. He couldn't continue to live like this.

He could feel his eyelids grow heavy as he finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: This chapter ended up being darker (particularly with the bandits) than I had initially expected when I sat down to write this. Ryland's point made regarding the nine points of attack is an actual teaching of kenjutsu. Thank you to everyone who read this and if you have any comments or critique, feel free to leave a review.