The Legend Begins
A Ronins Origin Story
Author's Note: This is part of a 17 chapter story plus a prologue, an epilogue, and author's notes. It is COMPLETED. To best view this story, please visit my Ronin Warrior Wing on my web site -- http://www.geocities.com/libraryoflegends/
Chapter 8 – A Halo of a Revelation
Sage tossed restlessly in his sleep. He kept seeing his younger self, a blonde boy of six running the back alleys of downtown Tokyo. He was being chased by a group of third grade bullies. Sage watched silently as the boys grabbed his younger self and pushed him onto the soot-covered payment. They threw rocks and broken glass at him and angry red cuts and appeared on his arms. The child was helpless to stave the onslaught and it was only when the boys tired of the game that they let him crawl away, his pale skin marred by ugly purple bruises. Sage shut his eyes to the horrible memory. Why are you showing me this! He screamed into the darkness. But try as he might, the images would not stop. It stripped him of his mental barriers as fast as he could get them up. Sage watched as the child staggered past the dark alleys, tears running down his face. Sage again tried to cut off the memories and threw up a last mental block . . . only to have it caught by another figure, a white one. The Ancient. . . That's what Ryo called him. The white robed figure reached out and patted Sage's shoulder gently. You ask why I show you this? He said gently into his mind. Sage watched as his younger self grew distracted by something shining in the alley and green obscured his vision.
When it cleared, the Ancient was gone and Sage found himself in a cave whose floor was glowing a bright green. Sage reached out mentally and was nearly blinded by the energy flows that surrounded him. But the patterns weren't multicolored but one single color, green. Sage blinked to clear the brilliance and realized that he wasn't the only one in the cave. He spied his younger self wandering the cave aimlessly until a white robed figure beckoned him over. The child cowered in the shadows but was finally won over by the figure's warm smile. It's the Ancient. Sage couldn't hear the conversation that ensued, but when the Ancient pressed his staff to the child's forehead, green light blocked out everything, transporting them both back to the dark alleyway. Sage shook his head. Ancient One! Please tell me why?! The mental cry split the air and a white form again materialized beside him.
You, Sage of Halo, see more than the others. But the answers you seek are not mine to give.
But . . .
I can only show the door. You must be the one to walk through it. With the last mental words, the Ancient's form dissolved into thin air while Sage let loose an agonized cry.
Wait Ancient One! I must know! Please wait!
But Sage's mental cries were in vain and lost to the ensuing blackness.
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Sage's eyes snapped open and he stared around in confusion. A warm afternoon sunshine was streaming through the windows of his room. The rays played upon the wooden floor and frosted panels. Groggily, he rose slowly from the comfort of his bed. His mind was still reeling from the dream and the events that had taken place a mere few hours ago. For a moment, Sage could only stand and gaze out of his window. The world was completely ordinary. His room faced the tiny Japanese garden with its myriad plants and quiet cultivated streams. The sky was cloudless and the bright light accented the darker green depths of the underbrush. Beyond the garden, the dojo buildings shimmered and Sage could make out moving figures as the students and teachers went about their chores and lessons. It all seems so normal. But it wasn't. Sage could feel that almost intangible change in the air. It wasn't the sense that something was wrong, but that something was different. Sage couldn't pinpoint exactly what that was but it made him edgy. The dream. He remembered now. He had been six and was on his way home from school when the usual gang of third grade bullies had ambushed him and beaten him up. They were the sons of rigid Japanese traditionalists who frowned upon mix-blooded people, like himself. That's when I met the Ancient. He hadn't known it was him then, but whatever he had done then had enabled Sage to finally learn martial arts. He called me Sage of Halo then too. Sage of Halo. The same name that had appeared on his tablet. But why Halo?
Sage shook his head and turned from the window. His gray eyes scanned his room and alighted on the little green orb that gleamed on his shelf. An idea lit his mind and he stalked over to it, grasping the orb and lifting it high to examine it in the light. Sunlight played on its glassy green surface and the contents swirled, revealing the kanji Sage had come to know so well. Wisdom. Sage frowned at the orb, his "othersight" easily detecting the bright green energy field that overlaid the crystal. Inanimate objects never had auras, but this one pulsed with it and Sage could never figure out why. He had come to the shaky theory that maybe it was an ancient energy stone used by gypsies and other psychics. Now he wasn't so sure as he thought back to the previous night when the Ancient had released the "block" on his abilities. I sensed the orb. What does it have to do with my powers? And the kanji. It was the same one on the tablet. Why? The Ancient. What did he mean? Who is he? A spirit?
The questions that danced in his mind he had no answers to. In fact, many dated back to the very first day of school when he had seen his friends for the first time and the feelings of recognition they had caused. We are linked somehow. That must be why all five of our names were there. We've been drawn together since the first time we saw each other but for what purpose? The Ancient said we were chosen. But chosen for what? Damn, none of this makes any sense! Sage resisted the urge to break something and instead closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply and calm himself before his frustration took hold of him. All right, calm down. Anger isn't going to solve anything.
Slowly, he forced his frustration to subside and when he felt he was in control of his faculties again, he reopened his gray eyes. The green orb remained in his hand, it aura winking at him. A quiet rumble startled him and reminded him pointedly that he hadn't had anything to eat all morning. Smiling ruefully, Sage dropped the orb into his pocket, deciding that he needed some sustenance before he tackled the pressing mysteries that were giving him a headache.
To Sage's surprise, he found both his father and mother downstairs. Normally his mother was far too busy in the dojo to do the household chores, especially handling the weekend classes, but there she was, wearing a cooking apron and busily preparing some tea in a brass kettle. She was humming a little tune and her long black hair swung in time with her motions. His father was sitting in an easy chair in the living room, reading the newspaper. Saturdays were usually the busiest day at the station so his father was rarely home. Newspaper rustled and Sage blinked at the scene, his mind finally registering that he was in deep trouble. Uh oh. The only reason he had been able to sneak out the night before was that he was sure that his mother and father would be too busy to notice that he'd been missing. His grandfather usually went to sleep early and got up late; lessons never started before nine and those were usually handled by his mother, his grandfather taking the later ones. Sage almost never encountered his parents on either Friday night or most of Saturday. Certainly he hadn't noticed anything amiss last night or this morning when he'd snuck himself back in at dawn. Maybe they didn't notice anything, he thought hopefully. But Sage never in his life had slept this late before and if that wasn't a warning that something was up, Sage didn't know what was. The fact that they were both there also suggested that they were waiting for him to slip up so they could punish him. Sage tried backing quietly away back toward the stairs but the quiet rumble of his empty stomach betrayed him. In the chair, his father hadn't moved but his quiet voice floated to Sage's ears.
"So you've come to join us Seiji?"
Sage winced at the use of his Japanese name. They only used it when he was in big trouble. Sneaking away in the middle of the night apparently fell under the "big trouble" category. From the kitchen, the gay humming stopped, as did the whistle of boiling water. Silence fell over the household and Sage didn't have to stretch out his senses to feel the tension in the air. His mother emerged from the kitchen, her face taut and lips pulled into a thin line. Father Date silently folded his newspaper and laid it on the glass coffee table and rose from his chair to face his disobedient son. His face was carefully devoid of emotion though his eyes flashed dangerously from beneath his crew-cut blonde hair. Sage shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his gaze trained on the floor.
"Is there something you wish to tell us Seiji?" The voice was even but underneath was a note of steel.
Sage remained silent. What could he say after all?
"You think we did not hear you come in this morning?" That was his mother and though the words were carefully controlled, they were sure to enflame at the slightest move on his part. "Satsuki found your room empty last night. Where did you go Seiji Date?" Her incensed gaze would surely have killed him if he met it.
Sage continued to stare at the ground. "I just went out with some friends," he said in a near inaudible voice.
"I didn't hear you," his father practically growled. "Look at me when I'm talking to you boy!" He grabbed Sage's chin and yanked it upward.
Sage stared guiltily into the angry blue eyes, seeing clearly the seething depths that just stood out in contrast to his light complexion. "I'm sorry Father," was all Sage could say, "I didn't think you'd let me stay out that late so . . ."
"So you chose to sneak away in the middle of the night?! Seiji! Have you no sense at all?!" His father glared at him. "I'm very disappointed in you Seiji."
Father Date finally released his head and Sage dropped his gaze back to the floor, unable to bear looking into the face of his father. He felt his shame spread a flush up his face. There were no excuses for what he did. It had been wrong of him to sneak out of the house but what else could he have done? There would have been no way his conscience would let Ryo face Kotaro alone. He had had no choice in the matter, or did he? Yet there was no way that Sage would admit the truth, either of why he went or what happened. The former was an unacceptable excuse. The latter was unbelievable. Even he didn't believe everything that happened that night. Sage nodded to the ground as his father continued his tirade, with his mother unafraid to voice her own opinions on the subject. Her son's behavior was unacceptable. The only thing Sage had to be grateful for was that his grandfather had either not heard about the incident or chose to keep himself uninvolved. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to survive an encounter with his grandfather if he were the one to give the punishment. He kept silent. He deserved everything he got.
Father Date realized that his son deeply regretted his actions, but there was no way that he would let Sage off Scot-free. Instead, he sent the boy to his room to reflect upon his actions; effectively grounding Sage from doing anything for the remainder of the day, which included any activity in the dojo, which his son looked forward to. He watched his son's retreating back, and shook his head. What could be done about his rebellious son? Granted, he did not always approve of his father-in-law's obsession with the traditional Japanese etiquette, but Sage's actions were unacceptable. Even when he was younger, Sage had always been rebellious in nature. Sage hadn't taken well to the strict rules of the traditional household and in many ways Father Date couldn't blame him. But since he was the one marrying into the family, he had been determined to adopt the Japanese way of life. Sage, unfortunately, was heir to the rebellious nature that marked the culture of America and that made it hard for him to conform to the Japanese ideal. That had been one of the reasons why Sage had chose an American name for himself and rather disliked his Japanese one. Father Date had to admit that his son had gotten better and now appeared as the ideal pious boy that Grandfather Date had always wanted. Still, there were always lapses such as these when it was clear that Sage had not really changed but was merely putting on a mask to please his elders. Father Date turned to his wife whose anger had quickly subsided and was now regarding the spot vacated by their son with one of extreme exasperation. They had decided by mutual agreement that they should leave Grandfather Date out of this. Sage needed to be disciplined but not in the way that Grandfather Date would likely do it.
The doorbell rang before Father Date had a chance to discuss things with his wife. He looked up with annoyance and stalked to the door, determined to send away anyone that was bothering him in this inopportune hour. But the person at the door made him do a double-take. Mr. Kazamatsuri stood within the doorframe smiling hugely. Next to him was a medium-built young teenager roughly the same age as Sage. Both executed a formal bow and when they straightened, Mr. Kazamatsuri clasped Father Date's astonished hand.
"It's good to see you again Derek," Mr. Kazamatsuri said with a warm smile.
"You too Akeno," Father Date smiled back, overcoming his surprise. "And it has been a while since I saw you too Shingo. We missed you at the tournament," he said to Mr. Kazamatsuri's son.
"Yes, we were hoping to cross paths at the tournament but unfortunately we had urgent business away. Shingo was disappointed that he couldn't attend." Mr. Kazamatsuri continued.
"So what brings you here today?"
"I was hoping that I could challenge Sage to a duel. I heard he won the tournament for Northeast Japan and I wanted to see how I would have done against him," Shingo said humbly.
Father Date could only give him an incredulous look. Aside from Sage, Shingo was the other leading contender in the arena of kendo. Shingo was a newcomer to the region so he and Sage had never met before but judging by the reports of the boy's successes in his previous region, Father Date knew Shingo to be strong in the sport. They knew each other by face, however, since Mr. Kazamatsuri worked in the same police office as him. He hadn't seen him for the past few weeks, though, and he gathered that it was whatever had prevented Shingo from attending the tournament. Grandfather Date had hoped the boy would show and had been severely disappointed. Of all of them, he was the one who most wanted Sage to test himself against the purportedly skilled Shingo.
"Is this a bad time?" Mr. Kazamatsuri asked easily, eyeing Father Date's silence.
"Well . . ," Father Date frowned inwardly. Sage was in no shape right now to have a duel. He himself, had just punished him and Sage had been out all night. There would be no way that Sage would be able to deal with this. He shot his wife a pained look and Mother Date understood immediately. She had quietly listened to the conversation and agreed with her husband's unspoken gaze. Kendo was not everything and Sage needed time away from the activity, especially after his behavior today. She moved behind her husband to speak with the visitors.
"Yes Mr. Kazamatsuri," she nodded respectfully toward him, "I'm afraid Sage . . ."
". . . Will be happy to accept your challenge young man."
Grandfather Date emerged from the back door where he had entered from the dojo. There was a break in lessons and he had thought to relax a bit in the house. He had arrived only in time to see the arrival of Mr. Kazamatsuri and his much acclaimed son and hear Shingo's challenge. He was excited. Father Date's assessment had been right. Grandfather Date had been disappointed at Shingo's absence. He had no inkling of what happened prior to his arrival, only that his daughter was about to prevent and encounter he had been looking forward to. His eyes met those of his daughter's. Mother Date shot daggers at her father.
"Father," she whispered to him, "You will not force Sage into this duel. He has more on his mind right now." She was torn between telling her father the whole incident, and risk his wrath on her son or remain silent and allow him to push Sage into a duel he was not ready for.
"Otou-san . . ," Father Date began but was quickly cut off by a wave of his hand and he knew better than to argue with his father-in-law.
Grandfather Date faced Mr. Kazamatsuri and his son, smiling, telling them he would be happy to host such a duel and sent them off to the family dojo building to prepare. As Grandfather Date left to get Sage, Mother Date caught his arm.
"Sage snuck out of the house last night," she began in a rush, "And got back nearly at dawn. He said he had been out with friends. Derek just sent him to his room. He's grounded for the rest of the day. He is in no shape to do this." Her eyes pleaded with him.
Grandfather Date answered her coldly, "Then what better time? Sage has yet to learn discipline. A meeting with Shingo will be beneficial." He turned his eyes on his son-in-law who wore a very upset expression but wisely kept it to himself. "Go teach the remainder of the classes," he commanded, "I will deal with this matter." He turned and stalked toward the stairs, leaving Sage's parents staring at his back in varying degrees of resignation and frustration at his stubbornness.
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Sage sat cross-legged on the mat on his floor. The silvery tones of a bamboo floated around him as his fingers moved automatically to cover the holes on the delicate instrument. His gray eyes were slits as he focused his concentration on the instrument, playing a melody he had not had to play in a long while. When his temper and frustration would get the better of him, Grandfather Date forced him to play the flute in effort to teach him to calm himself. Since learning mediation, Sage had no need to resort to this form of calm but lately mediation brought with it bright auras, blinding energies, and mysteries that Sage did not want to deal with right now. The quiet tones lifted his soul and he felt his anger, as well as his previous hunger, drop away. He had rather expected that this would happen. He was still shameful of what he had done. But there's no use worrying over it anymore. It is done. The last chords of the melody died away and Sage gently placed the flute on the floor. His hand free, it automatically reached into his pocket and pulled out the blinking green orb. Sage clutched it in his fist and let the feelings of peace flow into him, further claming his mind.
A knock at his door nearly made Sage drop the orb in surprise but he managed to save it from the floor, though he doubted that it would shatter, and stuffed it back into his pocket. He turned shaky steps to the door and opened it, dreading who would be calling now. His fears were confirmed when he spied his grandfather's form in the doorway, his smile both simultaneously grim and pleased.
"Sage, I heard about what happened," the quiet words reached his ears and Sage hung his head in shame.
"But," Grandfather Date continued, "I also came to tell you that Shingo Kazamatsuri has finally come and issued a challenge to you. And I expect you to answer it."
Sage gaped at his grandfather when the words finally registered in the mess that was his brain. Shingo had won the tournament for East Japan the previous year but his family had decided to move and that placed Shingo in the Northeast region. Sage's victory at the tournament a few months past had been largely due to the fact that Shingo had been absent. He had been looking forward to meeting him. But I don't want to meet him now. Not with everything that's happened recently. Sage looked straight into his grandfather's eyes and took a deep breath, knowing he was to do something he hadn't dared do in a long while.
"Grandfather. I . . . I don't think I'm ready yet to meet Shingo. Please, just tell him that we can do this another time." Sage pleaded into his grandfather's face.
Grandfather Date's face hardened visibly with his grandson's words. "I will do no such thing. Shingo came all this way and you will answer his challenge." His eyes bored through his grandson's horrified expression. "Get your things together and meet me in the dojo in no less than ten minutes. Shingo is already waiting." With that, Grandfather Date spun on his heel, leaving Sage to gape at his retreating back.
Sage groaned but there was no hope for it. Once grandfather got his mind on something, there was no stopping him. Shingo was here. This was no ploy to teach him discipline although Sage half expected that it probably was. He had to play out this deadly dance, no matter that he was not in any shape to deal with it. He reached into his pocket and squeezed the orb and felt himself reassured. He changed quickly into his kendo gear and went through a quick warm-up routine to limber himself up before heading downstairs and out back to the private family dojo building. Sage tried to calm his mind along the way, knowing he was going to need every scrap of concentration and skill to get through this contest.
Grandfather Date told no lie. Shingo was waiting in the building, lounging patiently on the bench with his father, already dressed in his gear. He turned toward Sage's approach, but let no smile or any expression at all escape him. Grandfather Date looked up and nodded wordlessly. He motioned the two combatants to the floor while Mr. Kazamatsuri looked on with approval. Sage let loose a silent sigh and put on his mask. He watched Shingo follow suit and the two bowed formally. Sage drew the bamboo blade and held it diagonally in front of him, crossing it with Shingo's with a quiet tap to initiate the duel. As he drew back to wait and circle, he forced his mind to concentrate on the duel at hand. No time to think about last night. No time to think about the Ancient, or what he said. No time to think about my friends. This is the only thing that exists right now.
It was difficult, with his mind still in turmoil, to concentrate and consequently, he was almost unprepared for Shingo's move. He barely avoided the slash that Shingo sent him and whirled only in time to cross the two blades. Sage used whatever mental capabilities he still possessed to block out everything but the battle. His instincts took over and he settled into the dance of parry and retreat. He danced around Shingo, meeting his swings and then darting in for points of his own. Shingo blocked them all. They were evenly matched and Shingo easily outclassed those Sage had faced in the tournament. Sage avoided another slash and decided that it was time to kick things into high gear. Shingo was too good for this, Sage knew. They had only been playing. Now it was time to really pull out the moves. He charged Shingo then swerved in mid-step, landing a point on Shingo's shoulder. Shingo was surprised at that and whirled to meet Sage's blade as it swung back for a return hit. Shingo jabbed upward instead of breaking the parry and Sage almost lost his hold on his blade. He staggered backwards, the force of Shingo's move throwing him off-balance. He somehow managed to avoid Shingo's first attempt at a point but practically walked into the second attempt. Sage ducked the third and quickly regained his balance, meeting Shingo's blade. He broke the parry and fell back to circle out of Shingo's range and get a chance to get his breath back.
Sage regarded the teenager with calculating eyes. Shingo was slightly broader than him, but still slender enough that he fit right into the sport. He wasn't nearly as agile as Sage but made up for it with his strength. His techniques were only slightly different from Sage's so Sage could predict to some extent what Shingo planned to do next. On the other hand, Shingo was no slouch either. He'd bet that the same things were going through Shingo's mind. His techniques were sound and he had a skill to match Sage. Sage's eyes narrowed as he tried to put together a plan that would bring the other down and finally end this match.
In the meantime, Shingo had realized Sage's attempt at a rest and broke it immediately by charging. Sage met the parry and then ducked straight under his swing, spinning on his heel and whirling to try to connect on Shingo's arm. Amazingly, Shingo managed to avoid that death but was unprepared when Sage abruptly reversed his blade's direction and landed a point on his side. Furious, Shingo tried to land a point of his own but Sage had already dashed out of the way, using his speed to get the better of the bulkier Shingo.
Sage watched Shingo's face and remembered back nearly six weeks ago to the move his grandfather had taught him and Yayoi. He stopped his circling and let his blade drop ever so slightly. His gray eyes beckoned for Shingo to come and get him. Sage hoped that Shingo would see this as a chivalrous act to let him land a point and even the score again. Shingo may or may not have seen it that way, but in either case, he charged headlong into Sage's dropped guard. Sage waited until the last second before using his speed to swerve, yanking his blade upward against Shingo's. The blade didn't exactly go flying, Shingo's grip was too strong, but it did succeed in throwing off Shingo's next attack and Sage was able to land two more hits on both of Shingo's unprotected sides. As he danced out of the way of the return volley, he saw Shingo's face contort with fury. Almost done, he thought to himself with relief. He took a moment to brush mop some of the sweat from his forehead and hair. Some of the golden strands dislodged with the movement and fell across his right eye but Sage was too relieved with the knowledge that this would soon be over to care about it. Sage readied himself for what he hoped was the last set of points but it could not prepare him for this last move of Shingo's.
Shingo was furious that Sage had gotten away with his moves. He had not come all this way to be beaten and Shingo was not one to let laying dogs lie. He didn't bother to think as he bent to the ground and clutched a handful of sand that littered the dojo floor. Sage had no warning when the sand flew and seeped through the mask and into his eye. He staggered back in pain as the grains bored into his cornea. Unable to see, he reached up and pushed his hair over the useless left eye. Luckily his right eye had been covered and remained clear and unaffected. With it, he watched Shingo's smiling advance and knew at once what he had done. The anger that Shingo would do such a thing in an honorable match was too much. The careful control on his temper evaporated. The frustrations of the recent events and resentment of being pulled into a match he didn't want to fight finally caused Sage to snap. He whipped up his blade and met Shingo's advance. Sage pulled out furious footwork that Shingo could barely keep up to and then used a backhanded swing to knock off his mask. Sage's incensed mind ignored the horrified gasps in the background and slammed the bamboo blade onto Shingo's neck, the force effectively knocking Shingo out. Shingo collapsed on the ground and for a moment Sage could only stare at him. Then the burning in his eye increased and Sage dropped the blade to touch his left eye where the grains of sand had lodged. Mr. Kazamatsuri strode quickly to his son's side, astonished and angry that Sage would break the etiquette to such an extent. Grandfather Date was more open in his disappointment, his anger allowing him to ignore Sage's useless left eye.
"Seiji," Grandfather Date said with thinly veiled anger, "Go to the basement and think about what you've done. I will deal with you shortly." His eyes were flashing as he glared daggers at his grandson before turning to the fallen Shingo and see if he was all right.
Sage wasn't inclined to care anymore. The burning in his eye had not eased and throbbed in time to his frustration. He spun on his heel and headed straight back to the house and downstairs to the basement. It was dark but Sage didn't bother to turn the light on, preferring the darkness. He stripped off his gear and mask and stalked over to the sink. Sage let the cool water run over him and wash the offending grains from his eye. With the easing of the pain, came a receding of the anger and it was only then that Sage realized what he just did. He groaned and sank to his knees. Oh man oh man oh man, he moaned. How could he let his anger take control like that? Yes, what Shingo did was wrong but he doubted any of the adults had seen it, but that was no excuse to do what he did. He saw Shingo's crumpled body and cringed. I hope he's all right. That, more than the breach of etiquette or his grandfather's anger was what Sage was worried about. He had hit him pretty hard. He knew from Yayoi's lectures on the subject that slamming anything into the artery on the neck cuts off circulation to the brain and thus causes unconsciousness. Shingo was probably okay but one could never be too sure and Sage winced at that possibility.
He sat in the darkness, everything distant from his mind except Shingo and silently berated himself for being such an idiot. Sage vowed never to let his anger get the better of him again. As he wallowed in regret, his hand stole to his pocket and grasped the green orb. Light flared, momentarily blinding him. His senses around he blinked rapidly to clear the sudden light and stared around. The gloom seemed to lighten visibly and Sage's outstretched senses felt clearly the swirling energy fields that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Finding it disorienting, Sage switched to his normal sight and stared astonished at an unnatural golden light that was shining in the corner. Feeling muddled, Sage approached the light cautiously. His eyes roved upwards where he could clearly make out a hole in the ceiling where the light was streaming through. Sage frowned. He hadn't recalled it before and certainly it hadn't been there when he had first come down.
The light beckoned him and Sage was defenseless to resist the call. Suddenly fearful, he stuck his hand into the light and gasped as it spread to engulf his body. The golden light overwhelmed everything. Something tingled in his pocket and Sage instinctively removed the orb. It was glowing a bright green now and Sage checked down to take a good look at himself. The fact that he was glowing an almost identical green didn't startle him; that was the natural color of his aura. What did surprise him was the intensity of the glow. His aura wasn't usually this bright! In his palm, the green orb had grown brighter and lifted gently up into the air. It began to pulse and its green rays shot out from its center. Sage's incredulous gaze easily discerned the dancing kanji that was glowing brightly within the swirling depths. Wisdom. The word whispered through the air and played on the dancing energy lines. The green intensified and a beam shot from its center to land square on his forehead. Sage gasped as the beam connected him to the energy in the orb. Green energy flowed into him in streams. Wisdom. Sage of Halo. Warrior of Wisdom. His mind vaguely matched the silent words to those from the night before and that realization came with the memory of his dream and the Ancient's words. Things he had blocked out of his mind in his preoccupation with Shingo. The light was becoming too bright and Sage was forced to close his eyes, his senses stretched to their fullest and awash in energy and light. His forehead felt warm and Sage knew without seeing that the kanji had implanted itself on his forehead, the green shining underneath the golden strands. He remembered his name. He remembered the symbol and the kanji engraved on the tablet. He remembered what the Ancient had called him and knew. The pieces slid into place as kanji shone on his forehead.
"Chi – Wisdom," he whispered.
Green and gold light melded together and flowed over and into him. The light overwhelmed him and then became a part of him. He no longer saw the darkness. He opened his eyes and they pierced through the blackness. He could make out every detail in the depths. See every grain of dirt that lay on the ground. He brought light to the darkness. It was a part of him and would always be. The green aura flared and then coalesced into a green and white metal suit that fit comfortably over his body. Sage turned astonished eyes upon it, feeling the energy flowing through the suit and into him. He ran metal-encased fingers over it. To his "othersight," the suit rippled with his touch. It wasn't really metal, but energy that had solidified into it. The energy was pure and infinite. Around him, the gold danced in response. Sage looked at if as if he were seeing it for the first time. It was the sunshine on a bright summer day. It was the lightning that streaked through a stormy sky. It was the silver rays of a moon illuminating a night sky. It was within him and would do as he bid. Without knowing how he knew it, or how he knew how, Sage extinguished the light and the green and gold faded from his view. The green and white metal became a bright green that flowed back into the orb. The orb winked the floated back to his palm, reverted back to its original form. The energy lines returned to normal and the basement became dark again but Sage was not afraid of it, knowing he could bring the light back if he wanted to.
Staring into the dark, Sage suddenly felt dizzy. He heard the sound of a door open and staggered toward it, the events overwhelming his mind, causing him to feel the effects physically.
"Sage?" He barely recognized the voice of his mother, which was full of concern.
Mother Date frowned into the darkness of the basement and fumbled with the light switch, carefully walking down the rickety wooden steps to the bottom. Her voice caught in her throat when she caught sight of her son, who looked paler than usual and was walking unsteadily toward her, his eyes blinking rapidly in the light of the lamps.
"Mother?" his voice wavered and Mother Date hurried to her son's side, placing an arm around him and lowering him to the bottom step as he threatened to topple.
"Mother, I did the most horrible thing . . ," his voice trailed off and she could see tears sparkling in the gray eyes, one of which was slightly red. She gazed at her son and felt herself also getting teary eyed as she saw herself the proof of Shingo's story, and how Sage blamed himself for it.
"Oh Sage," she whispered, cradling his head in her arms. "It's not your fault. Shingo told us the whole story when he came to. He said he threw sand in your eye to distract you because he was upset that he was losing." She paused to play with the golden strands on his head before continuing. "He's grateful for what you did. If you hadn't broke the code, then his deception would have been known and he could have been banned from kendo."
Sage dislodged himself from his mother's arms to look at her.
"Then you and father and grandfather aren't . . ."
"Upset?" Mother Date shook her head. "No Sage, how could we? Your father and I didn't even want you to take that challenge. Grandfather forced the issue and he regrets it now." She looked straight into Sage's face and examined his red eye. "We were upset this morning but you didn't deserve this punishment. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be any lasting harm to that eye. Do you feel all right?"
"It hurt for a while but I think I got the sand out. I do feel a little dizzy though," Sage said in a small voice.
Mother Date nodded, looking relieved. She put her arm around her son's waist and felt Sage shift his weight and lean on her as she half-supported him up the stairs toward his room.
"Where is Shingo?" Sage asked finally, his voice getting stronger but still weak.
"His father took him home. I think he is to be punished for his actions as well."
Sage only nodded. They reached his room and his mother placed him gently on the sheets, rearranging them to make him comfortable. She bent and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"I'll be back with some food. You haven't eaten anything all day and you must be starving."
Sage nodded to that wearily and Mother Date left for the kitchen, closing the door slowly behind her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sage was again plagued by dreams again that night. But these were of a far different nature. He no longer saw himself as a child but rather an image of a green armor. It was styled in the after the traditional samurai do-maru, the armor of the samurai, but with subtle differences. It was a full-body armor complete with a helmet with a golden crest. It was holding a glowing no-datchi blade. Its faceless mask stared into Sage's soul but while Sage should have been frightened, he was not. He sank deeper into sleep and the armored image followed him. Sage knew the armor wanted to merge with him, but he also knew that this was not yet the time. There were still a few mysteries that Sage had not yet figured out and until then, the armor would have to wait.
In his pocket, a green orb shined under the covers, its invisible energy rays beaming out into the night as if it were conversing with something. It blinked then grew as silent as the sleeping form. Sage of Halo. Warrior of Wisdom. The second in the circle had been awakened.
