Soul Blade:
The Shrouded Clan
Introduction
This is one of many stories that transcends through history and the world. They are stories of souls and swords, eternally retold among generations to come. These courageous men and women are connected by their own consequences but are ultimately linked by their personal quests for the legendary sword known as the Soul Edge.
The year is 1572 A.D. The Chinese Empire has become one of the main world powers, keeping the continent of Asia under a tight fist of rule, while Japan has become active in many affairs, slowly melting the dense ice of isolationism. North America is still known as the New World; its colonization has only just begun. However, many primitive groups and cultures still thrive, and the tensions grow among a certain native tribe who call this feral land home. For they decide the fates of their peoples strictly, and one man, who has proven his strength and vigilance in countless battles with bordering tribes, is soon awaiting his chief elder's decision for a fitting punishment. Yet this is not the story for the present time. Across the Pacific Ocean lies the war-torn continent of Asia. It is a land, despite its expanding government, of ancient legends, mystical beings, and pernicious demons. At this time a small trading boat passes through the East China Sea.
Part One
The stench of raw fish made Seung Mi Na nauseous, and the constant swaying of the vessel only added to the sickly feeling. Left…Right…Left….Mi Na could feel her stomach churning. Below the decks of the boat Mi Na sat huddled in a corner. She did not catch the name of the departing vessel as she stealthily hid among its lower decks. This was her second time being a stowaway. From her hometown in South Korea she had stole onto a ship manned by her father's top pupil, Hwang Sung Kyung.
Seung Mi Na relaxed and leaned closer against a crate for support. The horrific odor of the fish burned like a foul incense in her nostrils, yet she inhaled deeply and released a depressing sigh as she reminisced.
Her father, Han Myong, had taught her the fighting style of Seung's Long Blade, which was a commonly used style of swordplay with parries, attacks, and counterattacks. Han found Hwang abandoned at an early age and took him in as his own son, teaching him in the ways of the Long Blade along with her. Mi Na's mother had died just hours after giving birth to her; it was a tragic shock to her father. Even though Mi Na was too young to comprehend what had occurred, she had mysteriously fallen ill as if she somehow thought that life was not worth living. Han had tried desperately to cure her of her affliction, but his maternal instincts were poor. In the end it was Hwang, at only ten, who cared for young Mi Na. She had instantly taken a liking towards him and seemed to recover by love alone. As she grew older, her friendship with Hwang flourished, and when she became old enough she had begun to practice the Long Blade with him; although her weapon of choice was the Zanbatoh, a medium-sized blade connected to the end of a robust staff. She swung it with grace and dexterity. She trained hard and began to grow in skill and vigor. Her talent was painstakingly obvious to her fellow pupils and whenever they got the chance, they would taunt and mock her. This was her vulnerability. Mi Na did not brush off these comments; instead she would attack the boys, leaving them with numerous cuts and bruises.
Mi Na's talent shined by the time she reached the age of fifteen. She had almost become as good as Hwang, who had started training earlier. Han was elated by Hwang's progress. He showed his contentment by allowing Hwang to advance to the next stage of training, the training that created great warriors out of the best students. . Even though Mi Na was skilled enough to pass on to the same level of training as Hwang, Han denied her entry. He had told her that he loved her and that she would not be capable of handling the strenuous training. This infuriated her and she pleaded with her father to grant her passage. Once again he renounced it. That night, Mi Na's vulnerability took a hold of her. She made up her mind to leave her home in search of a way to demonstrate to her father that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She wanted to prove that she had become an adult.
Before leaving, Seung Mi Na took one last walk at night through the dojo's halls. She came across Hwang's chamber and silently peered inside. To her surprise, Hwang was still awake. Sitting cross-legged with his back to her he emitted a soft humming sound. It was at a constant volume and pitch. Mi Na recognized it as her father's method of meditation.
Father must be teaching him well, she thought with a hint of jealousy. The first thing a true warrior learns is to control his own mind over all things.
She backed out more quietly than she had first entered and returned to her own quarters. She would be leaving at dawn.
Daybreak came and Seung Mi Na was prepared to leave. She was not melancholy because she knew she would not be alone. She had heard that Hwang was going to a far-off land on a dangerous mission. He had been through remarkably hard training but had quickly mastered the Long Blade. He was even skilled enough to defeat Han Myong, who had taught him all that he knew. Mi Na knew of Hwang's abhorrence of war and death. He had chosen to devote his life to demolish war. In order to do so he needed a weapon of incredible power in order to end the reign of the feudal tyrants. Han had explained the legend of a sword that could split the very heavens asunder in one of his stories. With this power, Hwang believed that he would be able to bring peace to the land. So on this day he decided to set off on the journey of a lifetime. His only lead on the whereabouts of the blade was that it was in the possession of an infamous pirate harbored somewhere in Japan.
Seung Mi Na knew of the danger involved, but she also knew that she must prove that she had become an adult. If this meant going on a suicide mission, then so be it. As Hwang departed for the nearest harbor, Mi Na tagged along obscurely, not once glancing back at the only home she had ever known. By taking those first intrepid steps she had begun a chain reaction of future possibilities, all of them leading to victory or death.
* * * *
A sudden sound on the upper deck caused her mind to jolt back into the present. The sound was of multiple footsteps overhead. Seung Mi Na held her breath. A torrent of splinters rained upon her as the seemingly endless footfalls hammered the fragile boards. They were soon a distant sound on the other side of the ship. After a prolonged night of drinking and gambling, the ship's crew had at last gone to sleep. Unable to withstand the putrefying stench any longer, Seung found herself compelled to go out onto the deck. She felt as if she were underwater, struggling for a single breath of air, yet she was denied even that little. Nausea began to overwhelm her and her stomach would not stop churning. Her mind and thoughts became clouded with sickness and she knew, even if it meant her detection, that she needed to get up onto the top deck. She stood up slowly and braced herself by putting one hand against a nearby crate and applying pressure.
After a few moments of rest, Mi Na staggered over to a hatchway directly over her head and out of reach. She recalled leaping blindly through it when she had first come aboard. In that fatuous moment she had wrenched her ankle, twisting it in an awkward position. She reached towards her injury and felt the knot that was now swollen. It was nothing that time could not heal, and time was something in abundance. She retrieved the sturdiest crate that she could find and situated it straight under the hatch. The frigid night air struck her face like a wet towel. Almost immediately the queasiness began to abate. Once exposed to the mysterious fog, Mi Na plopped herself down beside a couple of barrels of fish. The redolence of fish triggered the slight return of her nausea. Nonetheless, this was the only place nearby where she could recuperate without the dread of being discovered. The only things visible through the dense fog were the constellations radiating the night sky. She brought her knees to her face and laid her head down upon them.
After a few minutes, or maybe hours, of slumber, Mi Na awoke. She peeked over the moss-covered barrels and descried that she was not the only person astir at such a late hour. An incongruous man stood at the bow of the ship. He was so near the brim that Mi Na at first believed him to be levitating ahead, a guardian of the vessel safeguarding it from detriment. He was dressed in casual samurai garb, which clearly made him out of place with such a rowdy group of seamen. He stood firmly, gazing vacantly at the moon that hovered menacingly in the dark void of night. Fatigue did not seem to affect him; Mi Na thought this inhuman. Oddly enough, she felt a faint connection with the samurai and was not surprised by his presence. It felt as though she was merely proceeding on the path of fate and was predestined to meet up with him. Realizing this, she quickly shook the feeling off. The dense fog obstructed her vision and she could not make out his facial features. Farther back near mid ship, Seung Mi Na also noticed the weary helmsman. He was covered by a bulky robe and a grand straw hat. He too seemed out of place among the crewmembers, alone and isolated in thought, consumed by his duties.
Seung Mi Na sighed and rose from her hiding spot. She leaned her body against the captain's cabin that stood erect in the midst of the craft. As if the fog was not enough to conceal her, the cabin's shadows enhanced the effect. She slipped stealthily around the side of it, manipulating the shadows as much as she could. Ever so quietly, she closed in on the enigmatic samurai. She could not help it. Drawn by his magnetic aura, Mi Na became intent on distinguishing his countenance. She felt as though she was in control, that nothing alive would harm her unless she permitted it. His back still faced her as she moved ever so close. She was so close that she could almost reach out and slide her fingers through his black hair, which was tied into a tail. The feeling that she so effortlessly shook off earlier returned with an even greater potency. She was almost compelled to spin him around where he stood so she might get a better view. Her impatience caused her to stomp her foot lightly, but just loud enough to provoke the man to react. He swung around with a look of indignation in his eyes. All at once the aura faded and Mi Na regained her senses. The feeling of universal control vanished and she was left with a blanket of distress wrapped around her being.
What have I done? This question ran through her mind. She froze, eyeing the samurai. Another question entered her subconscious. Can he see me? She remained still, her breath coming in quick inhalations. Then she realized that if she could make him out through such thick fog, maybe he could do the same. As the man gazed randomly around the cabin, Mi Na tiptoed backwards. She rounded the corner and slid to the ground. Exhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. The fog had begun to let up, unwrapping its tendrils from around the ship. Mi Na took this as a signal to return to her hiding place. She swiftly slid into the hatchway as the sound of footsteps arose from behind. Landing on her rear, she immediately sprang up and shut the hatch. She fell to her knees as the footsteps ceased. All was silent.
Even the most trained warrior would not have seen it coming. A sudden attack would have caught anyone off guard. The blade penetrated the hatch and slid downwards towards Mi Na's brow. It suddenly ended its course just inches from her forehead. She gaped at the blade with a mixture of awe and horror. As it reversed its course upwards it took the hatch with it. Electric fear surged through Mi Na, filling her veins with a feeling of sickness. She stumbled about, tripping clumsily over herself. She knew that her nightmare had started when the samurai plummeted onto the lower deck. He gripped a long curved blade in both palms. This particular type of sword was called the katana; it was the habitual weapon of the samurai. He pointed its tip towards Mi Na in a threatening manner. His eyes widened slightly as Mi Na became noticeable to him, yet his posture remained solid. His appearance had suddenly turned menacing.
"Come out where I can see you better, stowaway! I have seen the faces of all of the men who have boarded this ship and remembered them. Yours does not appear in my memory," he stated with a burning truth.
Mi Na pushed aside her fear and spoke as deceivingly as she could, but with strength. "I am Seung Mi Na from the Daitou-jutsu school of my father, Han Myong. And who do I have the honor of addressing?"
"I am Heishiro Mitsurugi, the lone swordsman." He smirked as he spoke, obviously recognizing her pitiful attempt at concealing her fear. A short silence followed the introduction. As if Mi Na portrayed no threat whatsoever, Mitsurugi lowered his arm. "Since you are a woman I will give you the chance to explain yourself for accompanying us on this hellish voyage."
Seung Mi Na felt enraged inside by the comment, but this time she managed to hold back her wrath. "I have traveled from South Korea in search of the legendary sword, Soul Edge, which will release our country from the ruling tyrants."
Mitsurugi wore a shocked expression. Soon afterwards he had begun to laugh. Mi Na gawked at him outlandishly. His laughter quieted down and he began to speak once more. "You are truly a fool to have come so far. What makes you believe you will find the Soul Edge so simply? Many have devoted and lost their lives in search of the great patriot sword. You are not only a woman, but a child at that."
Mi Na's anger grew until it drowned out her fear. As in past incidents, her vulnerability took control of her actions. She yelled out at him. "I will not allow you to ridicule me in such a manner! I am no child. I am a woman of honor and power. My quest will not end here, nor will it end in the near future." The only cure for her outburst that she could think of was to reel back and cover her mouth with her hands.
Mitsurugi's attitude suddenly shifted to a serious tone. He straightened his posture and seemed to grow taller. "You are aware that only the bravest warriors are in search of the Soul Edge, are you not?"
"Yes, I am aware," she replied.
"And you think of yourself as one of these warriors?" he continued the interrogation.
"Of course," she responded.
"Then I will not lose my honor by doing battle with you," he informed as his blade once again returned to its threatening position.
What have I done? She would have done anything to be back at her father's dojo at this moment. Yet she had chosen a path that she would regret for the rest of her journey, if it lasted so long.
Mi Na's long-time friend, nausea, had returned. She did not expect to face such a challenge so soon. She was aware of the others seeking the Soul Edge, but she never sacrificed much thought on the notion that she might meet up with one. At that moment she had realized that she was fated to encounter this man; that this man, Mitsurugi, could continue her destiny. He could also end her life in a brief moment if she wasn't careful.
But now it was time to determine if her Daitou-jutsu training since childhood had paid off. She reached into her hiding place and extracted her Zanbatoh. It was the only remnant she had from the home she had left, it seemed, so long ago. Mitsurugi watched as Mi Na stood the weapon vertically next to her. It was taller than she was and the blade on the end of the staff was almost as long as his. Mi Na knew that her Zanbatoh had impressed him. She turned and faced him with the weapon turned horizontally now and gripped it with both hands. She spoke with confidence. "I accept your challenge."
Mitsurugi nodded and raised his blade. "Then prepare to die!"
He swung at her with full force, opening the battle with Mi Na on the defense. She was excessively nimble and dodged the flurry of attacks. Her loose clothing allowed for greater agility. Mi Na fended his assaults easily. She recognized them as basic attacks. Yet no matter how much she defended, the onslaughts kept coming and she could not find an opening to counter. Many other aspects in the environment had begun to affect her. Of them, the nausea was the worst. It interfered with her fighting and left her open to attack. The darkness crippled her maneuverability and her bruised ankle was swollen with pain. She kept tripping over the crates, which almost ended her life during one moment of the conflict. Her only choice was to get up top where she could breathe better and have an open area to do battle. She spotted the hatchway behind her attacker and her hopes died. She needed to distract him long enough to get passed him. An idea sprang to her as she noticed a pile of nearby crates piled atop one another. In that split second of thought, Mitsurugi was able to make a clean swipe with his sword across the upper part of her arm, splitting the tender skin like an overripe peach. Her sleeve was quickly stained red. Mi Na stared at it in alarm, but the rush of adrenaline forced back the pain. She looked into his eyes with pure hatred. He backed away, startled. In rage she swung her Zanbatoh at him blindly. He had to dodge most of her moves for his sword was too weak to take the impact of such a thick weapon. She stabbed at him relentlessly, sending him into a pile of crates, which toppled over him.
This was her chance. Taking advantage of the break in the fierce struggle, Mi Na rushed over to the hatchway. She reached desperately for the only way out, but could not reach the opening. Glancing back at the pile of crates, she saw them being lifted by the man underneath. In an act of desperation, she stabbed her staff through the uncovered aperture. Its position remained vertical until she gyrated it into a horizontal position along the floor of the top deck. Using it practically as a balance beam, she pulled herself, feet first, through the opening onto the upper deck. She filled her lungs with the outside air and clutched her injured arm. She could feel the blood oozing under her palm. Looking around, Mi Na noticed that the shipmen who were still sober enough to stay awake had emerged from the barracks and were watching with confusion. She aimed the blade of her Zanbatoh towards the hatchway, waiting to strike down the man who had wounded her. Time moved along at the pace of an eternity as Mi Na waited. She knew this would be the first time to ever take a man's life. What an awful thing it was about to be. Yet she knew that she either had to fight or die. Kill or be---
Where is he? She thought impatiently, wanting to get it over with. Evil intentions filled her mind. Yes, she would strike him down and continue to strike him down until—
As soon as Mi Na had the chance to catch her breath, she had lost it again as the familiar katana was thrust up from below. It split a wooden plank not far from where she stood. The sudden attack caused her to leap back. She lost grip of her weapon and it slid a few feet away. When she looked up, she had noticed that Mitsurugi had already lifted himself to the deck. Behind her, one of the braver crewmembers advanced. He wore ragged clothes and smelled of something awful. Mi Na believed that she would rather stay with the decaying fish below decks than to stay in the same cabin as him.
"What's this Mitsurugi? Catch a stowaway, eh? And a pretty one at that." The crewman's smile revealed several jagged and rotted teeth. "Why don't we take the wench off your hands for a while, eh? I'm sure we could find a use for her."
The repugnant little man laughed and Mi Na shivered with disgust. He reached a rough hand out towards her but soon drew back, howling in pain as Mitsurugi sliced through his palm, taking two fingers off in the process. He yelled to the sailor. "You will not interfere in this battle, wretch!" The man continued to yelp in unimaginable pain.
Mi Na quickly lunged for her Zanbatoh, but it surprisingly rolled away towards the side of the ship. Mi Na felt the entire ship careening on its side. "What is happening?" She yelled in renewed panic. Her answer came as several crewmembers scurried across the decks. Through the sailors' screams and the little man's shrieks of pain, she heard that a fire had broken loose and had begun to topple the ship. All at once the vessel inclined sharply, sending Mi Na tumbling near the edge. Her back hit the wooden rail with an audible snap. She felt her bones moving into awkward positions from beneath her skin. She lay there, writhing in pain and watching the sailors cry in panic. One seaman rolled past her and plunged to his demise over the rail. She could do nothing but wait for the same to happen to her. As the ship turned at an almost ninety degree angle, she was flipped over the edge, anticipating the sea to catch her. She outstretched her arms, grabbing at anything near her. She made contact with something stable and seized it tightly. She could feel the warmth of the arm she had grabbed. Although her vision was blurred from the immense pain, she could hear Mitsurugi's desperate cries for her to hold on. She knew he would retain his honor even if it meant sacrificing his own life; it was the way of the samurai. Mi Na's body scraped rigorously against the side of the ship, embedding splinters into her shoulder and chest. Her arm grew numb from Mitsurugi's immense grip. The somber water beckoned from below.
The pain and sounds of suffering melded with her mind, creating a dream world of her own where reality and unreality met. In this world she was back with her father, Han. She was training hard with Hwang and when they were finished they would sit in the shade and talk of when they were children. It was a time when they were vivacious and free, a time when anything was possible. He would tell her, now that she had grown older, that she would face an inexpressible evil, an evil that can never live, nor die. She would ask him, "Then how could this evil be defeated?"
He would always answer with the same usage of words. "Oh, there is a way, though. Everything that can be created can be destroyed. You must follow the path of a true warrior and make the discovery for yourself."
She thought him crazy every time he told the story, but went and played along anyway. At that time she was happy and still very much young at heart.
She was free from pain.
Pain….
She was free from suffering.
Suffering….
And, most of all, she was free from death.
Death….
Suddenly, without warning, her dream world shattered into a million fragments of memory. It was all lost. Nothing was left for her now but Death, which took the form of the malevolent ocean waves, burying her deeper and farther into a watery grave. She had failed to hold on to Mitsurugi's grip. She had been swept into the murky brine below. The sinking ship created a current of waves that pushed her away far out to sea. The colossal waves pitched her about turbulently. She tried to scream but found herself with only a mouthful of salt water. As she struggled underwater, her strength was sapped and she eventually blackened out. An unknown force impelled her to open her eyes in the stinging environment. As she did so, the last image she saw before being rendered unconscious was that of an enormous golden creature gliding through the clouds.
