Grammar mistakes in dialogue are usually intentional. Different people speak differently.

Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi is an ancient Japanese sword of legend (that actually exists today!). If you know it, good, if you don't know it—even better. I picked this sword because it will be the Higashian equivalent of Chi Xiao


The world had been dark for as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure when he had awoken or when he had become aware of passing time, but it felt like he had re-experienced birth. Not that he remembered his birth, no. However, billions of years came before he had been born, but as far as he was concerned: all of history passed the moment he opened his eyes.

The change was sudden. If he had to describe the change, it was as though a god had commanded, "Let there be light!" and light had listened. Its radiant glow cast a peculiar scene before his eyes. It felt… familiar—like a memory experienced time and again.

He was lying on a bed of soft silk, looking up at a formless shape. It hovered above his face, subtly bobbing and swaying to an unheard melody of its own design. Try as he might, he could make little sense of it. Slowly, his senses sharpened as a haunting tune crept through his ears.

Was it a face?

Or a ghost?

No, a girl—a woman, with a voice so fragile, he felt it could shatter at any moment.

She was singing… a lullaby?

No, not quite. It was too solemn. It was more like a requiem—a lilting dirge. Her words and the voice that sang them hemmed themselves with despair.

Despairing; but not desperate.

She sang as though this song foretold a fate she had long since resigned herself to.

Oh, it's more than a dream...

Dream? No, this wasn't a dream. At least, it didn't feel like a dream...

Without warning, the floor beneath him gave way. The singer's voice echoed around him as he plummeted into the abyss.

Oh, it's more than a dream...

Lucius's eyes fluttered open. He flinched, unprepared for the morning light that filtered through his window. Staring up at the dark wooden ceiling, he mulled over his thoughts.

It had been no more thanadream, but it wasn't anything new; he had seen it many times—each as dream vivid as the first. Initially, Lucius had sought guidance from his master, Septimus. However, he was as useless as he was old—and the Sage had lived for well over a thousand years.

Or so he has claimed. As Lucius discovered, a lifespan of a thousand years was rather difficult to verify.

He slowly climbed out of bed. The old wooden floor groaned in protest under the sudden weight. Stretching, Lucius shuffled over to the body-length mirror that hung by the foot of his bed.

As usual, his short, white hair was a chaotic mess. He wouldn't be surprised if the Old Man had brought a cow in the middle of the night just to lick his hair. It sounded like something he would. Never mind the logistical nightmare that was herding a cow up the tallest mountains on Terra, though it certainly would have been a sight to see.

He quickly gave up on taming his hair. It would eventually fall into place. Lucius tried halfheartedly to push his fractured halo aside, but as expected, the damned thing wouldn't budge. His black halo and wings made him feel like an edgy cartoon character, and his eyes—they only made things worse. They were a brilliant shade of red, with a black ring around where his pupils should've been. He should be completely blind without pupils, yet here he was, inspecting his infernal bedhead.

A cranky voice hollered from the floor below. "You better be out of bed!"

"I'm awake, ya old bat!" Lucius shouted back. "Don't forget your diapers!" He couldn't resist the temptation. Sure, it was a low-hanging fruit, but a fruit was a fruit.

The Old Man quipped back without hesitation: "Too old, can't hear you!" Lucius laughed.

Despite his cheeky nature, Lucius held great respect and admiration for his adopted father. Septimus had always been there to guide him.

Lucius angled his head slightly and traced a hand over the mangled right side of his face. He could fit an entire palm over the scarring where his cheek and nose should have been. It looked- and felt- like someone had tried to scrape the flesh from his bones, but couldn't quite get the job done. Thankfully, despite his frightful appearance, Septimus had taken him in without a second thought.

Septimus's temple was immensely popular with tourists and worshipers alike. The elderly visitors were, for the most part, quite pleasant toward Lucius; a few even praised him for persevering in the face of adversity. The children, however, were not so kind.

Many visiting children were simply frightened of him and did nothing to hide it. The local children, though, were much worse- they acted as if Lucius were a mythological monster. "The Monster of Daiji", they called him. He couldn't entirely blame them—between his imposing stature and deformed face, he did look the part. They spun savage tales attesting to his supposed cruelty, telling of his thirst for blood and hunger for human flesh. They even made a game of sneaking into the inner compound to snap a picture of his face.

Septimus had issued vicious reprimands in response to their behavior. He'd banned some children from the premises, expelled learners, and even charged fines for breaking and entering. Unfortunately, his actions only reinforced their belief: "Old man Septimus is hiding a demon deep within his temple."

So he hid himself. It was the easiest solution.

For years, Lucius never left his room during the day unless he absolutely had to. He would only leave the house for a walk well after dusk. A habit that proved impossible to shake.

Though the mythology around him had faded over the years, Lucius was still self-conscious about his face. In particular, he was determined to prevent history from repeating itself, especially now that he had a chance to reinvent himself with a new crowd. He was a grown man now and determined to live the best life he could.

Lucius had a big day ahead of him. Smiling, he hid the damaged half of his face behind a porcelain mask. The Old Man had it custom-made for his sixteenth birthday. The mask covered his right cheek and nose but stopped short of his mouth, allowing him to eat and drink easily. According to Septimus, it was based on the mask used in the Crimson Troupe's musical, "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra."

It was all Gallic to him.

He changed hurriedly into simple slate-colored knickers and a matching long-sleeved turtleneck. He pulled a forest-green fisherman's vest around his shoulders and grabbed a long white coat that hung neatly from his bed. He shimmied his arms through its long sleeves and fumbled with the hidden buttons. Damned things. He knew it was a popular design choice, but who in the world thought it was a good idea to make it harder to button a coat? It was almost impossible to fit the tiny bastards through the small holes hidden behind the lapel. As he struggled in vain, Lucius couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. He was impressively dextrous with a sword, but a total donkey when it came to buttons. Despite himself, he let out a quiet laugh.

Lucius gave up with a sigh. It wasn't worth the effort. Instead, he put on a simple brooch to keep his cloak in place. He stuffed a few boxes of cigarettes into some of the vest's many pouches, followed by his trusty lighter. Lucius had always felt a strange connection with the small device. According to Septimus, it was in his pocket when he washed up on the beach.

Satisfied, he straightened his coat's high collar and headed for the kitchen.

On his way down the flight of stairs, he paused when his foot struck a loose floorboard. It squeaked. He smiled as he recalled memories of early adolescence. Squeaky board! He stepped back and placed his foot on top of the loose floorboard a second time. It squeaked again. Again, he retreated his foot and replaced it.

Squeak.

Again.

Squeak.

Again!

Squeak.

"God damn it, boy! If you don't knock it off, there won't be any breakfast for you!"

Squeak.

"I bloody mean it!"

Lucius chuckled as he ran down the remaining stairs. He found Septimus slouched in a chair by a wooden dining table.

The Old Man was, quite frankly, a mess. Not that he seemed to care. Most people who chewed tobacco would walk over to the spittoon when finished, but the Old Man wasn't like most people. Septimus was a bit of a lazy bastard, and proud of it. There was only one man in all of Higashi who could spit into a spittoon halfway across the hall and his name was Septimus.

Or so he had been told.

Then again, chewing tobacco had been outlawed in Higashi for almost a century, so there hadn't been much competition.

He was reading the newspaper with a bored expression. He wore blue dress shorts and a gaudy Siestan Aloha shirt. The floral print was enough to make Lucius wish he was blind. "Ready for your trip?" He asked, without looking up. Lucius nodded as he walked into the kitchen.

Septimus ran a hand through his graying hair as he flipped a page. In his younger years, his hair might've been described as curly brown peppered with gray, but these days it was more akin to curly gray peppered with brown.

Septimus glanced up from his paper. "I already brought your bags down. They're by the door." Lucius hummed a thanks.

Septimus leaned back in his chair. "Can't believe it's been six years since I stumbled upon you gargling seaweed, it feels like it was only yesterday," he said, stroking his beard.

Gargling seaweed, my ass, Lucius thought as he opened the fridge. The Old Man had found him washed up on some god-forsaken beach in Yan, certainly not gargling seaweed, and brought him to his mountainside temple in Higashi.

"Would have been sooner if you'd let me leave," Lucius argued, pouring himself a glass of milk.

The Old Man snorted. "And let an amnesiac wander around on his own? No way."

Septimus was right. As far as his memories were concerned, he was only six years old. Try as he might, he couldn't remember anything beyond six years. That wouldn't be a problem if he was six years old, but he was around 20. Lucius didn't need a calculator to understand he was missing a significant chunk of his life. Who he was or where he lived beforehand, he didn't know.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" Septimus asked.

Lucius shook his head with a sigh. "I've been waiting six years for this day," He paused. Downing the milk with a satisfied 'ah,' Lucius wiped his mouth with his coat's sleeve. "I'd be damned if I had to wait one day more."

Septimus chuckled. "I wouldn't be in such a rush if I were you," he warned. "The lady I'm sending you to really knows how to work a guy to the bone."

"Rhodes, was it?"

"Rhodes Island. Want to travel the world and kill foreigners? There's no better place than a roving PMC base! As long as that old cat allows it."

Lucius suddenly eyed the Old Man as though he thought he was lying. "You said it was a pharmaceutical company."

"Semantics. What sort of self-respecting pharmaceutical company doesn't keep an army of PMCs on hand at all times?" Septimus said, with a wave of his hand. Turning another page, he peered over the paper. "Anyways, grab yourself something to eat before you go."

Lucius reached into the fridge. Groping around blindly, he found his favorite yogurt missing. "Did you eat my yogurt?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that." The Old Man said, without an ounce of regret. He hadn't so much as bothered to look up from his paper.

"Bastard!"

He sighed. "Look, kid. Once you start working at Rhodes, you'll be able to buy all the yogurt you want." He winked. "Trust me."

Lucius couldn't argue with that. Not that it addressed the issue at hand, but he figured any further argument was pointless. "Waffles it is, then..." he grumbled to himself.

"You'd better hurry. Your ride'll be here soon."

Lucius dropped a waffle into the toaster. "Who are they?" He asked while setting the timer.

"They work for a friend of mine. They're a good bunch. A bit eccentric, but reliable nonetheless," Septimus said as he flipped the page again. His bored expression shifted to one of disappointment. "Another terrorist attack in Lungmen." He tutted. "Terra's going down the gutter. I better not see you on the news for blowing up famous landmarks." Septimus said. Without missing a beat, he held a nearby cooking spoon to his mouth, mimicking a news anchor. "Breaking news: rogue monk destroys Dewville Crystal Mines. Three injured, two in critical condition, more at six."

Lucius grabbed a dish from an overhead cupboard and plated his paltry meal. He rolled his eyes as he walked to the dining table.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "the probability's like, one in a million. Besides, no one's going to miss the Dewville Mines."

"You never know."

"A giant hole in the ground where nerds rock hunt? Yeah, no." Lucius hummed thoughtfully. "But the Gates of Lungmen? Now that's something people would notice. If I end up destroying a symbol of national pride, I'm going all out." The Sankta took a bite from his waffle.

"Well, I'd like to see you 'go all out' without your swords." Said Septimus jokingly.

Lucius's eyes widened as he choked on his food. Thumping his chest, he cleared his throat of waffle mush. He shot to his feet and bolted up the stairs. "Shit! Thanks, Old Man." He shouted overhead shoulders.

Septimus shook his head. "Kids these days."

Lucius burst into his room and tore his closet door open. He fastened three swords to his waist: two on the left and one on the right. While Luke could wield two swords simultaneously, he preferred to wield one at a time. He couldn't even draw the third ornate sword. It was more of a good luck charm than a weapon.

Thundering down the stairs, Lucius swung around a corner and slid into the dining room. He expected to see Septimus criticizing some politician in the newspaper but was surprised to see the Old Man conversing with two girls. The three occupants turned toward him with varying reactions.

Septimus simply rolled his eyes. Honestly, Lucius couldn't blame him. His entrance was a bit on the rough side.

The taller of the two, a Lupo, regarded him with cold disinterest and a dash of irritation. The perfect recipe for a terrible first impression.

The other girl, a true Sankta, seemed pleased to encounter a fellow. Lucius was relieved to see she wasn't bothered by his fallen appearance. He could only hope the other Sankta were equally open-minded.

"Ahem, this is my student and adopted son, Lucius, or Luke. Luke, this is Texas," he gestured toward the Lupo, "and Exusiai." He said, pointing to the Sankta. "They're associates of Rhodes Island."

Luke stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting. "It's nice to meet you."

Exusiai craned her head up to meet his gaze. Luke towered over them. She eagerly took his hand in her own, shaking vigorously. "The pleasure's all mine! Rest easy I'm nothing like that Lupo ice queen. By the way, you wouldn't happen to be related to a Hoshiguma, would you?"

"Erm…no."

Texas didn't seem offended if she took any. Interpreting that as a good sign, Luke offered a handshake. Texas eyed him wearily as though uncertain of his intentions. Eventually, she responded with a curt nod but otherwise made no move to return the gesture. Note to self: Texas does not like physical contact. He thought regretfully.

Texas pointed at his three swords. "Can you even use those?" She asked.

Luke threw a sharp, sideways glance at her. How dare she! He spent years training! "Yes, I can." He said irritably.

"They got names?"

"Only this one." He pointed to one of the swords hanging by his left hip—the ornate one. A smart, golden silk was wrapped around its grip, forming diamonds. It radiated brilliantly. "Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi: Heavenly Sword of Gathering Clouds. Though we usually call it Ameno or Murakumo, because to be honest," he flushed, "that long name is kinda embarrassing."

"I see."

"Alright!" The three jumped. Septimus suddenly folded his newspaper and set it on the table. He stood with a grunt. "I think it's about time for you kids to head out. If you leave now you'll probably make it to Rhodes by Lunchtime."

"You're right." Texas said, forcing Exusiai's head down into a bow, "We are thankful for your hospitality." Exusiai whined as she fought Texas's grip to no avail.

"I should be thanking you for taking the brat." The Old Man said gently. "Without a guide, he'd be lost within a day."

"Screw you."

"It's only our job."

"Luke," Septimus said, gesturing toward Texas, "you could learn some manners from this one. Come on, let's grab your things." Luke snatched the remnants of his waffle and shoved it in his mouth, leaving his plate behind. He figured the Old Man could clean his dishes.

Septimus led them to the front door. Slipping his feet into sandals, he pushed aside the sliding, wooden door and stepped out onto a gravel road. Placing his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath. "Can't get enough of that fresh, mountain air!" He said with a sigh.

Luke stood next to him. "I'm gonna miss it. Can't stand that putrid city vog."

Exusiai waltzed up and skipped past Luke with a smile, kicking up pebbles in her wake. "Hey! We breathed that putrid city air and we turned out just fine!" Septimus snorted and nudged Luke in the back. He was holding two pieces of luggage.

"Here you take one and I'll take one," he handed him a plastic suitcase, "Can't make an old man do all the work."

Luke clicked his tongue. "You're only old when it's convenient, huh?"

Septimus chuckled. "Of course, my father did it to me and now I'm doing it to you." They walked together in silence as they followed Texas and Exusiai to their van.

As the head "priest" of the temple, Septimus lived in a house separate from the main compound. Most of the time, the path to their house was closed off by a large gate. The only direct path to the main entrance was the long gravel road that ran through the entire temple complex.

As Septimus's adopted son, Luke enjoyed all the benefits of Sagehood without any of the usual limitations. Not that Septimus followed them himself. Because Luke wasn't a religious student, he could eat whatever he wanted and could have, as the monks called it, "worldly possessions." He had a smartphone, a love for dairy, and even picked up on his father's smoking habit, much to the temple's disappointment. Regardless, he was well-liked by the monks and their disciples.

After a long walk, Septimus and Luke finally arrived at the temple's main gate. As the largest and most prestigious temple in the east, Yamatozan-Daibutsuji, or simply Daiji, was well accommodated with its own access road and parking lot. Thousands of visitors flocked to its gates every year, securing it as one of the most visited temples in all of Terra. However, a lack of funds left the access roads in poor condition. While entirely safe, the bumpy roads made for a very unpleasant experience.

Luke hopped over a large pothole and landed next to Exusiai. She was busy inspecting the blinking rear lights. "Must have been a rough ride." He said.

Exusiai shrugged, not entirely in disagreement. "Kinda. Texas is a bit of an eccentric driver, so I'm used to flying."

Luke blinked owlishly. "Did you say flying?"

"Yeah, happens every so often." Her response was casual, as though flying vans were everyday occurrences in Lungmen. Luke groaned with a sinking heart. He failed to notice Exusiai perk up. She took a few steps back.

Septimus slapped him on the back. "Chin up, kid. At least you'll make it in one piece." They leaped back as Texas suddenly kicked the rear barn doors wide open. "For the most part." Septimus finished with a laugh.

The cold beauty glared down at him. "Pack your stuff. We leave in five minutes." She walked away, cursing under her breath. "Idiot."

Exusiai placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Don't mind her. She's just cranky." Exusiai reached for his luggage. "Here, let me help." Luke handed over his suitcase and watched her climb into the van. He tactfully averted his gaze with a blush as she bent over.

Septimus shoved another piece of luggage into Luke's chest. "At least load this one by yourself." Luke heard Exusiai laugh from inside the vehicle.

Grumbling, the young Sage tossed the suitcase on top of its twin. He dusted his hands together with a huff. "Glad that's over with."

Septimus didn't seem impressed. "You didn't do much."

"At least I actually did something." He retorted with a hint of sass.

"I suppose that's true," Septimus paused with a smirk, "for a bitch ass pansy." He laughed as Luke tackled him to the ground. The pair rolled around, wrestling playfully.

"You take that back!" Luke shouted with faux anger. He may have beaten his adopted father in height, but overall, Septimus was easily twice his size. However, Luke wasn't a pushover. His slim, fit body belied an enormous strength unnatural for his size. "When I get to Rhodes, I'm telling Saga that you're swearing again."

Septimus mocked Luke's attempt to intimidate him. "Hah! See if I care! Her fuzzy ass can't do nothing halfway across Terra!" They heard an irritated series of honks. Luke reluctantly untangled himself from his father and pushed himself to his feet. He offered Septimus a hand, but the Old Man swatted it aside with a smirk. "I ain't that old yet," he said, standing up, "come back in a hundred years."

Luke felt a lump well up in his throat. "I guess this is it." He said. He owed so much to his adopted father. Something he hoped to, one day, repay.

Septimus threw an arm around Luke's shoulders. "Don't think of it like that! I ain't going anywhere." He said with a tender smile. "If you ever feel homesick, just remember: these gates will always be open for you." Luke wrapped his arms around the Sage. He felt truly blessed to have a father in Septimus.

Pulling back, Septimus grinned cheekily. "Well, weekdays from nine to five and weekends from 10 to 4. Holidays excluded."

"How unfortunate., I'll just have to break in."

Septimus tossed his head back and laughed. "That's what makes me worried!" He smiled as his laughter subsided. "You better hop in, something tells me Texas might be getting a little irritated." The two shared a final fistbump before the Old Man took a step back and hollered. "Text me once you settle down! And remember: be careful. Terra's a messed up place. Don't go around saving every damsel in distress, because you won't be able to save them all. It's not something one person can do… not yet."

Luke nodded. He stepped into the van's trunk and pulled himself in. He looked at his father for a final time. "I'll see you in hell!" He shouted and pulled the barn doors shut. Luke climbed into the back seat and sat next to Exusiai. The van was in motion the instant he buckled his seat belt. "How Long of a drive are we looking at?" He asked.

The exuberant angel hummed. "Well, if it hasn't moved, it should take about three to four hours?"

Luke was visibly surprised. "That's a lot shorter than I imagined." Though he secretly doubted her claims. Exusiai nodded while rummaging through her pockets.

"Rhodes Island hopes to establish a partnership with Higashi, so it's currently docked with the city." Finding what she was looking for, a bar of chocolate, Exusiai peeled back the wrapper and bit into the candy. "You're lucky, you know that?" She said through a mouth full of chocolate. "Usually, the drive takes anywhere from five to eight days.

"Chew or talk. Not both." Exusiai fell silent as she chewed merrily. Luke rolled his eyes but waited for her to finish chewing. "What happens once we get there?" He asked.

"Usually, you have to pass an interview, but by the sounds of it, Mr. Septimus pulled some strings."

Luke frowned. It felt wrong to utilize his Father's connections for his benefit, but it was out of his control. It was something the Old Man had planned, not him.

"That's it? Seems kind of simple for such a huge company."

Exusiai smirked."You're quick on the uptake, aren't ya?" Luke blushed. He wasn't used to receiving compliments. "But you're right. After the interview, there's an orientation. Fun stuff like aptitude tests and medical examinations. Then there's basic training." He shivered at the thought of 'basic training.'

Exusiai sensed his obvious discomfort. She gently placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she said, "you won't be suffering alone. Dr. Kal'tsit or Amiya will assign you a partner for the duration of your orientation and training. Most of the time, they'll also be your partner on your first mission."

"How was your first mission?" Exusiai averted her gaze and offered a meek, nervous chuckle. Luke was not comforted in the slightest. "Exusiai. What happened?"

"You remember when terrorists blew up the Aloha Tower in Siesta?"

Luke felt dread rear its ugly head. "Yeah, what about it…?"

"That," she hesitantly started, "was us." Exusiai suddenly offered her candy as though to change the topic, "Want some?" Luke looked askance at the partially eaten, slobber-covered bar of chocolate.

He shook his head, "No thanks." He was in for a rough ride.