Lady of the Iron Will
"Girl, hurry up with the food!" mistress shout hit me like a physical blow as I struggled to carry a large jug of cooled tea. Irate, Kuniko barged into the kitchen "Why must you be so slow, girl? Do you want to get sent back to the brothel?"
I forced myself not to react to her scorn and ridicule, after all, I should've been grateful to master Yukio and his wife Kuniko, at fifteen years of age, I could have been doing a lot worse for myself.
I sighed as I unwrapped cooked, chilled fish and chicken from a rice paper bag. My nerves frayed, I lowered my head to my task and repeated my personal mantra under my breath "I am Kaida Eboshi, blessed one." This statement was my key to my survival and determination.
I was born to a wandering couple, vagabonds of a sort, who had no permanent home, and were not even married by law. In a time when strict social orders and family names determined one's livelihood and social circles, my parents were outcasts, in fact, they earned their provisions by performing arcane magic for those who needed services in the black arts. In the city of Dragon-By-The-River, they left me, naught but a howling babe, with a distant relative, a great-aunt of sorts. Elder mother Koto, as I called her was kind enough, I suppose, but elderly, and forgetful. I often annoyed her with picky questions about my parents. "They were travelers along life's road, and could not afford to keep a baby." Was always the answer I received.
As my aging Elder Mother could not keep up with an active youngster, I was often set loose to run the city with other half-wild children. Word of my parentage somehow spread amongst my playmates. Besides being called a bastard child (I was used to this) I was often mocked as being "Demon birthed" or "Devil bred", which make me angry. Often I was escorted back to Elder Mother by a disapproving adult, with my clothes torn and my nose bloody, the product of a fistfight. Elder Mother would scold me for hours on end, how girls were supposed to avoid confrontation, and that I was too strong-willed and hot-tempered. Once or twice I was even caned, which left scars, but little psychological impact.
One day, returning home after running errands, I found Koto on the floor , gasping, her face contorting in pain. Terrified, I fled to the nearest neighbor, and was kept out of the way as a priest blessed her dying breath. I recall that I spent the following days in a state of confusion and fear. I was by then thirteen, not exactly a child, but too young to be considered an adult. What made matters worse is that my growth had come quickly, only a few months before. I was tall, freakishly so, the tallest woman in the city, standing head and shoulders above girls my age, and my monthly bloods had already begun.
I recall a memorial ceremony for Elder Mother, even those of low social status were given rites of the dead, but I did not weep, my heart was curiously cold and empty for the woman who had raised me. After the ceremony, as I walked back to my temporary home in a shelter next to the temple, a strange woman in an ornate, dark kimono approached me, and with surprising strength, dragged me behind a small shop.
"What is your name?" she hissed as I huddled in fear. I wanted to respond, but I could only manage a choked gasp. "What is your name!" the woman hissed, her eyes burning, her teeth bared in something very much like a snarl.
"Eboshi" I finally managed, "Kaida Eboshi." The wild woman nodded "You are the one I have been seeking." She said "Give me your hand."
By this time, I was just angry at being detained by a crazy person. "No, get away, whoever you are." The woman grabbed my arm with a painful twist, so that the palm of my left hand was facing upwards. I gasped as she drew an ornate dragger in the shape of a great dragon from the folds of her kimono. I looked away and flinched as the tip pierced the soft part of my palm, under my thumb. Contemptuously, she watched the red blood run over my white hand, and studied with intense interest the way the blood pooled on the hard dirt ground. Muttering under her breath, she tossed a pinch of white powder on the blood, and to my shock, it turned from crimson to a deep green blue.
"Indeed." The woman's dark, glittering eyes met my own. "Kaida Eboshi, you are a Blessed One. Only a few with true power are born in an era. You have the power to create great change, but sorrow is your shadow."
The woman rose swiftly. "You never met me, and you tell no one about me." Turning onto the street, she disappeared quickly into the crowd. More confused than ever, clutching a piece of my robe to my wounded hand, I made my way back to the Temple hostel. They say that charity and kindness are virtues, but to the ones who provide such, being charitable can quickly become tiring, especially if one has to provide food and drink for a half-grown girl with a name of no importance. The women of the shelter told me outright that I had to find a job if I was to keep living under the hostel roof. I raged at the unfairness of fate, as I thought over my problems. Why couldn't I have been born a princess to a noble family, instead of being an urchin begging for food and shelter? Everywhere I looked it seemed that no one was interested in employing a gangly, untalented young woman such as I. Finally, out of desperation, I found myself at the doors of the city brothel. Being a whore was the most humiliating job that I woman could have, being used and tossed away by careless men, while the proper ladies sneered and muttered cruel comments to their friends. Nonetheless, I made myself humble, bowing deeply to the middle-aged madam who was in charge of the business. "Please ma'am I find myself in desperate need of employment." I explained my situation to her as she listened with a stone face. "Undress." She commanded when I had finished speaking. "Gods above, why should I?" I sputtered, indignant. "Your face is not much to look upon." She laughed, as if this was a big joke "I hope you've got a body of some value under those garments." My face burning with embarrassment, I pulled off my robes and stood naked before the madam, very aware of my flat chest and overly long legs. Madam gave me a sweeping look before declaring haughtily "You possess the body of a ten year old boy. No proper man would want you. You'd be a disgrace to the kind of quality I strive to maintain, but I consider myself a kindly woman. I have recently made a business deal with the town smith. He needs a servant to clean his house and to serve food. The wages are minimal, but master Yukio's wife is still young and pretty, he expresses no desire for another woman to pleasure him. As long as you are obedient and keep your mouth shut, you will be treated fairly, which is more than you deserve." Thusly, I was sent to the home of Master Yukio. Yukio, as it turned out, was quite elderly, the father of several grown children but still overseeing his thriving business. His wife, on the other hand, was young, no more than five years older than I. She was high-born, and trained in the social graces, but possessed of a razor tongue, which she used on me from the very moment I arrived.
"Girl, hurry up with the food!" mistress shout hit me like a physical blow as I struggled to carry a large jug of cooled tea. Irate, Kuniko barged into the kitchen "Why must you be so slow, girl? Do you want to get sent back to the brothel?"
I forced myself not to react to her scorn and ridicule, after all, I should've been grateful to master Yukio and his wife Kuniko, at fifteen years of age, I could have been doing a lot worse for myself.
I sighed as I unwrapped cooked, chilled fish and chicken from a rice paper bag. My nerves frayed, I lowered my head to my task and repeated my personal mantra under my breath "I am Kaida Eboshi, blessed one." This statement was my key to my survival and determination.
I was born to a wandering couple, vagabonds of a sort, who had no permanent home, and were not even married by law. In a time when strict social orders and family names determined one's livelihood and social circles, my parents were outcasts, in fact, they earned their provisions by performing arcane magic for those who needed services in the black arts. In the city of Dragon-By-The-River, they left me, naught but a howling babe, with a distant relative, a great-aunt of sorts. Elder mother Koto, as I called her was kind enough, I suppose, but elderly, and forgetful. I often annoyed her with picky questions about my parents. "They were travelers along life's road, and could not afford to keep a baby." Was always the answer I received.
As my aging Elder Mother could not keep up with an active youngster, I was often set loose to run the city with other half-wild children. Word of my parentage somehow spread amongst my playmates. Besides being called a bastard child (I was used to this) I was often mocked as being "Demon birthed" or "Devil bred", which make me angry. Often I was escorted back to Elder Mother by a disapproving adult, with my clothes torn and my nose bloody, the product of a fistfight. Elder Mother would scold me for hours on end, how girls were supposed to avoid confrontation, and that I was too strong-willed and hot-tempered. Once or twice I was even caned, which left scars, but little psychological impact.
One day, returning home after running errands, I found Koto on the floor , gasping, her face contorting in pain. Terrified, I fled to the nearest neighbor, and was kept out of the way as a priest blessed her dying breath. I recall that I spent the following days in a state of confusion and fear. I was by then thirteen, not exactly a child, but too young to be considered an adult. What made matters worse is that my growth had come quickly, only a few months before. I was tall, freakishly so, the tallest woman in the city, standing head and shoulders above girls my age, and my monthly bloods had already begun.
I recall a memorial ceremony for Elder Mother, even those of low social status were given rites of the dead, but I did not weep, my heart was curiously cold and empty for the woman who had raised me. After the ceremony, as I walked back to my temporary home in a shelter next to the temple, a strange woman in an ornate, dark kimono approached me, and with surprising strength, dragged me behind a small shop.
"What is your name?" she hissed as I huddled in fear. I wanted to respond, but I could only manage a choked gasp. "What is your name!" the woman hissed, her eyes burning, her teeth bared in something very much like a snarl.
"Eboshi" I finally managed, "Kaida Eboshi." The wild woman nodded "You are the one I have been seeking." She said "Give me your hand."
By this time, I was just angry at being detained by a crazy person. "No, get away, whoever you are." The woman grabbed my arm with a painful twist, so that the palm of my left hand was facing upwards. I gasped as she drew an ornate dragger in the shape of a great dragon from the folds of her kimono. I looked away and flinched as the tip pierced the soft part of my palm, under my thumb. Contemptuously, she watched the red blood run over my white hand, and studied with intense interest the way the blood pooled on the hard dirt ground. Muttering under her breath, she tossed a pinch of white powder on the blood, and to my shock, it turned from crimson to a deep green blue.
"Indeed." The woman's dark, glittering eyes met my own. "Kaida Eboshi, you are a Blessed One. Only a few with true power are born in an era. You have the power to create great change, but sorrow is your shadow."
The woman rose swiftly. "You never met me, and you tell no one about me." Turning onto the street, she disappeared quickly into the crowd. More confused than ever, clutching a piece of my robe to my wounded hand, I made my way back to the Temple hostel. They say that charity and kindness are virtues, but to the ones who provide such, being charitable can quickly become tiring, especially if one has to provide food and drink for a half-grown girl with a name of no importance. The women of the shelter told me outright that I had to find a job if I was to keep living under the hostel roof. I raged at the unfairness of fate, as I thought over my problems. Why couldn't I have been born a princess to a noble family, instead of being an urchin begging for food and shelter? Everywhere I looked it seemed that no one was interested in employing a gangly, untalented young woman such as I. Finally, out of desperation, I found myself at the doors of the city brothel. Being a whore was the most humiliating job that I woman could have, being used and tossed away by careless men, while the proper ladies sneered and muttered cruel comments to their friends. Nonetheless, I made myself humble, bowing deeply to the middle-aged madam who was in charge of the business. "Please ma'am I find myself in desperate need of employment." I explained my situation to her as she listened with a stone face. "Undress." She commanded when I had finished speaking. "Gods above, why should I?" I sputtered, indignant. "Your face is not much to look upon." She laughed, as if this was a big joke "I hope you've got a body of some value under those garments." My face burning with embarrassment, I pulled off my robes and stood naked before the madam, very aware of my flat chest and overly long legs. Madam gave me a sweeping look before declaring haughtily "You possess the body of a ten year old boy. No proper man would want you. You'd be a disgrace to the kind of quality I strive to maintain, but I consider myself a kindly woman. I have recently made a business deal with the town smith. He needs a servant to clean his house and to serve food. The wages are minimal, but master Yukio's wife is still young and pretty, he expresses no desire for another woman to pleasure him. As long as you are obedient and keep your mouth shut, you will be treated fairly, which is more than you deserve." Thusly, I was sent to the home of Master Yukio. Yukio, as it turned out, was quite elderly, the father of several grown children but still overseeing his thriving business. His wife, on the other hand, was young, no more than five years older than I. She was high-born, and trained in the social graces, but possessed of a razor tongue, which she used on me from the very moment I arrived.