2 The past

I was born nine years ago in the land of fire to a humble family of two, consisting of my father Takeru and my mother Chiaki. My parents both had just gotten married and moved together onto a piece of land my father had inherited from his late father after his passing, and thusly I was born.

My father, just like his before him, was a farmer, just like everybody else in our village. Thus, after my third birthday I believe it was, my father took me with him when he went to till the field and began teaching me how to bring in our daily food.

The memory of that time is a little blurry to me, as I was still very young at the time, but I do remember that I was happy with what we had. That happiness only increased with the birth of my little brother, who was named Tomasu. Just like me, he inherited our parent's fluid black hair and dark eyes and was a constant joy to be around.

The next year after my brother's birth however, catastrophe struck our small village. Locusts. We had heard tale of another village not far from ours suffering from them the year before but as it is with most things humans fear, we ignore it until we can no longer deny reality.

Along with the famine came sickness and violence. At first, I obviously did not understand why we had nothing to eat when all the years beforehand we never had to worry overtly much about the daily food on our table. How could I. I was only just four at the time and had never experienced true hardship before.

The small village, which had previously been a group of closely bonded families soon descended into fronts of people guarding the fruits of their labour, as little as it was, leading regularly to accusations and conflicts between parties whenever one accused another of stealing some of their food, whether in the hopes of gaining some more for themselves or in anger at an actual thief nobody could tell.

That year was one I will never forget I believe. Luckily, our reserves made it possible for us to get through the winter without anyone of my family dying to the hunger, but the famine still left its scars on all of us.

My parents regularly fought over the littlest things while my brother never really stopped crying from the hunger, which did not help the explosive situation in our household.

When spring arrived however, hope blossomed in everybody's hearts and all families went to work eagerly.

Our work paid of and after a couple months of diligent work we soon found ourselves eating complete meals once again.

And yet, none of us had forgotten the famine and the words that had been spoken between my parents in anger and frustration hung heavily over our home.

That though, was not the only scars the famine had left on us all. My brother, who had still been an infant at the time, hadn't had enough nutrition to grow up healthy and thusly was very small and thin for a boy his age while his features were a little sunken as well.

Obviously, my parents blamed themselves for that, even though the famine had been out of their control but humans are weird like that. We constantly blame ourselves and rarely are actually at fault.

The year after that was a fairly normal one for all of us. I had by then begun to work with my father full time, despite being only five years at the time, which none of us could understand but my body managed to do so without a problem somehow. While I did more work on the field my father had taken some time off and decided to teach my brother the basics of farming.

As we found out, my brother was a bright child and quickly learned what my father tried to teach him, something that would hopefully help him in the future as his body was already quite handicapped due to the famine's repercussions. Thus, we worked and learned in my brother's case until winter came and confined our family once again to our house.

Despite the tensions between my parents though, my mother soon announced that she was pregnant once again and come spring my little sister Sana was born.

That however, came at a cost none of us were prepared for. My mother Chiaki passed away that day. According to the nurse that had helped deliver Sana, she had bled too much. There was nothing she had been able to do to help her.

At the time I remember that I blamed her for my mother's death as I was sure she should have been able to do something to help her but now I know that she was not really a nurse, just an older woman who had helped through many pregnancies and was the most qualified to help at the time.

After my mother's passing, nothing was as it had been, no matter how many months passed. My father had grown distant and began to drink while my brother Tomasu had grown resentful of my sister Sana, as he blamed her for our mother's death. I remember watching from the side as if in a trance how our formerly rather happy family splintered into pieces.

As my father grew more and more distant I had taken it upon myself to look after both Sana and Tomasu and left my father to till the fields, hoping that the hard work would bring him back from his depression.

In that fashion, two years passed. And while my brother and sister grew bigger and a little more independent, enabling me to help more on the fields, nothing really had changed around our home.

More often than not father drank himself into a stupor while I tried to fill the hole that my mother had left behind in our family. Obviously, I failed. But, even now I don't know what I could have done differently to change things for the better.

At the time I thought, with time I may be able to change our situation, but life had other plans.

As you surely well know, wars are rather common in our world. Be it for territory, for resources, for women, for politics or for nothing else but enmity and hate. In this case, it was for politics. To be more specific, it was for the rights of succession to the lands of one of the local nobles under the reign of the daimyo.

Thus, as is common practise, when soldiers are needed for war the locals are drafted to bolster the ranks of the armies of the nobles. And so it came that a group of soldiers ventured through our village and pulled together all the men that weren't absolutely needed in the village. As it turned out, since my mother had passed away, my father was considered to be necessary to stay in our home and take care of my siblings.

But since I was considered old enough to swing a sword I was drafted in his place. I still remember that day. The incoherent babbling and sobbing of my siblings, who didn't want me to leave while my father was completely lost on what to do since he couldn't go against the soldier's orders without dire repercussions. Hence, he had to look on as I was taken to fight in some noble's war. At the very least I managed to make my father promise to look after my siblings more carefully. I still hope he kept his word to this day, but what do I know.

Along with ten other men and two boys of our village, we left my home behind with nothing but our feeble belongings on us and the hope in our hearts that we could return after the war was over.

After leaving our village, our small group journeyed through the thick foliage of the land of fire for two days, only stopping for a few hours in the evening to sleep and eat.

After those two days our group joined the rest of the army that we were supposed to fight for. At the time I had never seen so many people at once, let alone felt such a tension in the air.

After we were shown to our barracks, consisting of four men tents only and a hammock for the night, each of us was led to the armoury of the army.

We were each given a Harnish of solid leather, a spear and a katana each, though none of us knew what we were supposed to do with those as we hadn't ever held a weapon in our hands before.

Obviously, the soldiers in charge knew that and soon we were at least taught how to hold our weapons and what our functions were in the coming fight.

The next few days consisted of nothing but drills upon drills and how to respond to certain types of commands. While we were training the whole day, which demanded our whole attention while doing so, our nights were the only times each person had to themselves or to socialise. Most chose to participate in the later in order to relieve the tension each and everyone felt, either by drinking or playing games for the little money the soldiers had.

At times however, people cracked under the tension, which resulted in soft sobbing that echoed through the camp for a few minutes until even that came to an abrupt end, due to the exhaustion the day had instilled in all soldiers.

And then it came one day. Our order to move out. No longer was there tense laughter to be heard throughout the camp. No longer were there soldiers playing light hearted games for money or shit and giggles. Tense silence reigned supreme, only broken by the bellowed command of one of the commanders.

Our camp soon marched and it didn't take us long to make contact with another part of our army, with many more joining ours over time. Our previously rather small army soon grew into an enormous army consisting of both levies and standing soldiers that more often than not were part of some noble's family, yearning to earn themselves honour and riches through their exploits.

Once our coalition army came to a standstill, we once again made camp, but all were told to keep our weapons and armour at the ready at all times. Hence, we all knew, it wouldn't be long now.

That night, my thoughts kept spinning in circles. I understood none of what was happening. I was fighting for a man I didn't know, against men I didn't know, for something I would have no part of and receive nothing from, and yet I was told to give my life for it. It was funny in a way I remember thinking to myself. Still, I couldn't really laugh about the whole situation, as you probably understand.

Then, early the next morning, I had just fallen asleep I remember, the drums of our army began to thump which was our signal to gather in our respective formations.

As soon as I heard those drums, adrenaline began to flood my whole body while I put on what I had been given. My armour, nothing but leather, my sword strapped to my side not really sharpened, and my spear in my right. That was all I had. And with all of that I marched with the rest of my company to our respective place in the centre of the whole army.

Nobody but the commanders said anything, though I still remember the whimpering and crying of both children and men all around me while the faint smell of urine in the air wafted through our army. To distract myself I kept my gaze to the front where I hoped to spot the enemy, all the while my hand was grabbing my spear so tightly I now wonder how I didn't snap it in half.

Then, they came. At first slowly. Just like we had the day before, did they advance over the green plain, framed by trees on both sides. Soon however, their army gave the signal to advance towards us and thus they picked up their speed.

I was standing there, tense with fear, all around me our commanders bellowed for us to move while our drums boomed in the rhythm to march as well, and so we did.

As we picked up speed, men all around me began to scream, be it from fear, anger or just to motivate themselves and others or to relieve some tension, and I vaguely realized I did so as well.

The next few seconds are nothing but a blur. We rushed forwards and they did. At some point we all collided. Men were pierced by spears, thrown aside or crushed underneath. Bones broke as much as metal did and soon the air was filled with both screams of loss and of victory.

I do remember losing my spear right after the initial clash. I think it broke between two ringing men but I could be mistaken.

Afterwards, I had to draw my katana and was soon stabbing or slashing around me at everything that moved. I didn't care if it was an enemy or an ally. All I wanted was to not be harmed. My lungs, arms and legs burned from the strain but I kept slashing. All around me men fell or fought with a ferociousness I've never seen in any human being.

At some point a spear pierced my shoulder as I found out after all was over, but tense and wild as I was at the time I didn't even notice.

At some point in time, I still remember that I kept on slashing wildly, only then to realize that there was nothing more to slash, which was when I stopped and collapsed to my knees.

My arms were trembling, my legs were trembling and I was covered from head to toe in blood and sweat. After making sure I was still whole and alive I finally looked around and that picture I will never forget.

Bodies upon bodies, both dead and alive while the stench of both piss, shit and blood hung like a cloud over the battlefield. Obviously, I vomited. I'm not proud of it but what can you do. It was simply disgusting.

Afterwards I just wanted to get away from there, hence I began stumbling on my shaky legs back to the camp.

From time to time I would pass by a group of people or some who returned alive from the battlefield like I did, but nobody spoke a word. That was when calls began to echo over the battlefield to run.

I wasn't sure who began to run but I know that I was still so high on tension that I didn't think much about it and simply ran.

As I found out later from a group that passed by my hiding place, our army had lost and the stranglers, myself included, were being hunted down by squads of four to five people, meant to quell any resistance that might have survived the battle.

Meanwhile, the battlefield was being ransacked by homeless kids and pour families that hoped to gather some of the weapons and armour with which they could make themselves a small fortune. And who could blame them? After all, a lot of money was invested in said war. At least, I think it was.

Anyway, after I had overheard that conversation I panicked and simply rushed away from my hiding place. I didn't really think where I was going, simply that I had to get away from there.

I don't know how long I ran but it must've been quite a while as I never even heard a single peep from those that were supposed to capture and kill me.

Still, I kept on going as I always had the thought at the back of my mind that they would soon catch up with me. Fortunately, they never did.

Something else did however. Hunger. I hadn't eaten in two days, and as I had never learned to hunt and had no knowledge of plants and such I realized I had to accept the fact that I would have to live with the hunger for the foreseeable future. I simply hoped to reach some city where I may be given some food.

The trees of the land of fire soon began to fade and it grew colder by the hour. At that time, I was already on foot for five days without food I think. At the time I began to eat snow from hunger and thirst, which at least quenched the later. Still, I can't really remember much afterwards as I wasn't consciously moving any longer.

Obviously, my energy has its ends and I soon collapsed. The next thing I knew was waking up in a futon and being given some food.

That is all there is to my story. Now you know everything there is to know. Do with it as you will.