Legends of Broken Lands

I love this one. Please pardon the name(s) in Japanese. If you ask me in private, I'll gladly tell you what they mean. Or you could just look it up; they're written phonetically.

This story is to be read with the following song:

“The Terminal - Piano” by shadow6nothing9

(youtube it or go to newgrounds.com)

The rain pours down, smashing into my sedge hat, running off the back, and dripping in my trail.  My trusted sword, Dorobō, The Thief, rests in her hilt at my waist.  I trot down a path that is obviously unkempt by the locals.  I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me, but the fact that the end came hundreds of years ago, one might think that humans would have recovered their old status.  The year was 2999, the turn of the millenium, when the end came.  No-one knows how or why it happened.  It was far too long ago.  Generations have passed, and with them, the years were taken away.  Here in Japan, it seems to always be raining.  I’m not complaining, it’s great for the rice, but there is something ominous about this constant downpour.  Though I’ve been alive for more than twenty years, and nothing bad has happened yet... because of the rain, anyway, it still gives me an odd sense of foreboding.
It’s been roughly three hundred years since the end came, and not many villages are still left.  Nomads build villages in an attempt to settle down and make families, but raiders destroy these settlements and steal everything.  They kill the men, rape and enslave the women, force the young boys to be in their armies, and then they kill anyone too old or not old enough for any of those things.  People forget so easily.  They have hope.  They want to remake what was.  I know better.  I travel alone, eat alone, work alone.  I take on mercenary jobs that the raiders ask of me, and they pay me handsomely.  I use that money to stay alive.
My stomach constricts, and that tells me it is roughly noon.  Lunch time.  I  find a densely wooded area, and I set down on a rock, making sure it is dry first.  I take off my pack, which holds but a few yen, about a half dozen onigiri rice balls, my flint-and-steel fire-starting kit (not that it does me much good),  and my fishing gear.  I gently pull out three of the rice balls and proceed to slowly munch on them.  As I finish, I hear a twig snap behind me.  I almost turn around, but I suppress the urge to do so.  “Who are you and how long have you been following me?”  Several more twigs snap, getting farther and farther away.  I sigh.
“............”  My sword calls to me.  Its spirit is strong.  I unsheath her and stare at her beauty.  “My beloved.  Why do you call to me now?  What’s the matter?”  A sharp, high pitched creaking trumpets from behind me, and I hastily move from my perch on the rock, and merely seconds later, a massive tree topples directly onto where I was just sitting.  I look back to my sword.  I snicker.  “You’ve saved my a*s yet again, dear.”
I look around for the culprit, and several rogues come crawling out of the woodwork, quite literally.  I crouch and position my blade in front of me.  They see my stance and one steps forward.  He has an air of gruff authority about him.  “You.  You hold the sword like master.  You fight much?”
God, no... these weren’t just rogues... these guys are complete delinquents.  Hooligans!  Idiots!  I answer tentatively.  “I have trained for a very long time.  I am no amateur, but I am certainly no master.”
“We will not fight you.  You kill lots of us, but we kill you if we attack.  Give us you food.”
I decide it’s time to bluff.  I only have three or four rice balls left, and it’s who-knows-how-long until the next town... er... raider settlement.  Either way, I need all the food I can keep.  “How does this sound?  I’m out of food, but I will hunt down some fair game if you let me go free.”
The leader looks insulted, but I hear several of the other savages’ stomachs growling, and the leader looks around wearily.  He stands down and concedes.  “All right.  You win.  Bring us meat and we let you go.”
I sigh with relief and I sheath my sword with extra care.  I think to myself, ‘Sadly, I’m a man of my word, so I must hunt for these imbeciles...’

* * *

After a couple of hours, I return to the rock and the toppled tree with several snowrabbits.  I lay them on the rock and I go on my way.  The rain lightens up a little, and I can feel the sun breaking through a small section of clouds.  It really is noon.  My eyes feel a burning sensation as I look at the patch of flourescent yellow light.  I’d never forgotten that bright hue of color that the sun turns things.  The colors without it are all so dim and depressing, but so was the entire continent of Japan, from what I understood.  Apparently there were parts of the world without any water at all after the end came.  I feel sorry for those places.
I walk through the patch of light and continue on my way.  I speak to the plants and trees, expecting no answer.  Needing no answer.  Wanting no answer.  Peace.  Calm.
Night descends upon me before I realize it, and I move to climb up a tree, when a bright light appears in front of me.  I can tell that it’s man-made.  It’s obviously a torch in a lantern case.  I stop in my tracks and lower my hat below my eyes, so that the approaching party can’t see my face.  “Lord!  Good Lord!  Sir!”  The voice is fairly distant, but approaching rapidly with footsteps growing louder.  “Sir!  Please, you must help me!  You appear to be a knight of high stature!  Please!  You must help!”
“No.  I mustn’t.  It isn’t for you to say what I must or must not do.  You have not even introduced yourself.”  I begin walking again.
“Please!  We’ve no time for that, sir!”  With that, I keep on my way.  The man, however, is persistent, so he catches up to me and says, “Sir, my name is Kasai.  I am of the village of Kono.  We need help desperately.  Please, kind Lord.  I beg of your assistance.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Kasai,” I say without breaking stride, “but in my experience, either two things are true.  One is that your village is or was being attacked and now everyone is dead.  The second is that you are being plagued by a wild beast or beasts or even by disease, which I cannot and will not help you with.  Now, if you’ll kindly leave back to your village, then I will be on my way.”  I hear the man’s footsteps growing softer and farther away.  He’s given up.  I sigh sadly.  “One more village reduced to ruin...”  I say as I continue through the endless rain.  One day, Japan.  One day you will see glory once again...
After a few more hours of walking, I start to feel a burning sensation in my legs.  I decide to set down and rest for the night, so I walk into the woods yet again and find another nice, dry rock.  I lay down on it, my hands supporting my head.  I’ve never really been one for sleep, but sometimes I manage to catch a wink.  After a couple of hours of laying there, listening to the rustle of the night time forest, I get back on my feet.  The pain has gone, so I start walking again.  I get about twenty more kilometers before my stomach growls again and I eat my remaining rice balls.  About three kilometers later, I come upon a paddy field.  “... There must be a village nearby...” I say to the field.  I walk a little longer and I come upon a fortified building with wooden spikes of varying sizes growing from the fortress.

I hear a shout from atop of the wooden structure.  It doesn’t sound Japanese.  “Ey!  You down there!  Whatcha doin’ in our paddy fields!?  Eh?”  I look up and see an oddly pale gentleman bending down over the wall.  Two other plae-faced men are standing by him with bows in hand and arrow-filled quivers showing over their shoulders.

“Hello.” I respond curtly.

“I said whatcha want?” The man shouts down to me again.
“Sir.  I heard you the first time.  I am not inclined to answer given the hostile nature of your greeting.  Might you phrase it in a different manner?”
“Oh, ah’m sorry, milady!  Should ah be nicer ta not urt yer feelins!?”
“You must not be from around these parts, but that brings the question, where might you be from?” I ask to myself.
“Ey!  Whatchoo say!?” the man yells down.
I decide to take the hostile route, though with the archers, it might not be such a great idea.  “I said, you blood-dripping, shriveled-up maggot sack, that I want in!  I’m a mercenary and I’ll do almost any job!  Where’s your leader!?  Huh?  Too scared to let me in, are you!?  HA!  I spit in the face of your country!”
The man looks down to me, stunned.  The archers take position, but the man holds them back.  “You got guts!  I’ll give ya that!  And you say yer a merc?  Well, BLIMEY!  Welcome to th’ club!”  He turns away and shouts to someone to his right.  “Lower th’ gate ya demon spawn!”  He returns his attention to me.  “Try anythin’ and we’ll skin ya ‘live!”
I bow slightly and a wooden door is raised from the ground, making an opening about four people wide.  I tentatively walk inside...