Chapter Five: The Way Of The Sword

It's been five years since the visit of my uncle, and every day since my mind has been consumed by the advice he had given me. I figured that he wanted my posture to be right, he said everything must be in line, but after months of continuous failure, I realized it couldn't just be about my posture right? 

It was a summer evening and the sun hung low and in line with the clouds, the sweat dripped off my back constantly and I was swinging my sword watching the rock, this was my ten-thousandth slash today and I waited, replaying the same shitty advice in my head, it was getting so frustrating, I started saying it like a mantra "Be In Line!" 

I imagine my bokken in my head cascading down in a straight arc from the heavens and cutting the giant rock in half evenly, my grip on the bokken tightened and I jumped high into the air, sailing upwards through the night sky, bringing my bokken high behind my head with precision, my mind and body moved in perfect synchrony and I imagine the dotted line as I slashed down, my bokken dropping as did I, as Gravity finally caught up with me, the wooden Bokken passed through the stone like butter and it lay split in two. 

I knelt on the floor, regaining my breath, and looked down at my hands, now calloused and rough. Suddenly, I turned to hear loud noises of clapping and cheering as My father and mother joined me at the river bank. 

"Ahhhh of course my dear Adolf did it! That was one month before you did it, Paul!"

Paul looked happy but silently ticked off that I had seemingly beaten him, "Yeah, well done, kid, but tomorrow the real stuff begins!" 

Friday-Grayrat Garden- Morning-

"Okay Adolf, there are three styles of sword fighting in our world, Sword God, North God, and Water God, but you aren't ready for that yet so basics first... Stance!!"

I moved my right foot behind my left and held my now steel blade so that the Kisaki (tip of the blade) was at my eye level. I watched as my father got into the same stance. 

"You must learn the basic sword movements, up until now, you have been hacking or slashing down with your sword, a move easily parried by any swordsman, speaking of parrying, parry my strike now>" 

I firmed my stance and waited for my father to attack me, his longer and more honed blade reeked of power, challenging my blade to fall from my grip. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, he attacked, I waited as his horizontal slash approached closer to my torso, I dropped my stance lower, feeling the burn in my thighs, the Kisaki of my blade still at eye level. The swing was now where my head was just milliseconds ago, I raised my blade diagonally, my head rising with it, to parry my father's blade, both blades stayed locked for moments, one trying to overpower the other, but eventually the block was held and my father relented. 

"Good Adolf, now attack me!"

I waited as my father entered his stance, and I watched him to seek out a weakness, there was none, at least none perceivable to my inexperienced eyes. I decided to free sty;e and hope for the best, I lowered my stance and Kisaki along with my head and pounced into the air as I did to the rock, raising my blade to the heavens, and as I fell, the blade lowered, still in line with my vision, hacking at my father's blade, chipping it's edge as the blades scraped past each other. 

"You chipped my blade, impressive, that's it for today, I have to go out and get this fixed, practice your parrying, slashing, hacking, and stabbing with the tree over there," 

I watched my father walk away, the chipped blade still resonating in my mind like the echo of a gong. It wasn't much, just a small nick in the edge of his sword, but to me, it was everything. I had managed to leave my mark, however small, on a man I'd always seen as invincible. It was a victory, and it fueled me with a sense of pride I hadn't felt in years.

Turning towards the old oak tree, I gripped my sword tightly. The weight of the steel in my hand was a constant reminder that I was no longer a boy swinging a wooden stick at imaginary enemies. This blade was real, solid, an extension of my will. It could cut through flesh and bone, not just wood and stone. I wasn't just playing at being a warrior anymore—I was becoming one.