Rūkasu sat across from Master Amon at the firepit, surprisingly ready for a bit of a history lesson. “To sum up a very long story, your mother was from the Kazesuji clan. A once powerful clan that no longer exists.” He took a sip from his gourd and wiped his lips.
“If they were so powerful then why are there hardly any of them left?” Rūkasu stirred the coals in the fire, watching the fish roast on the spit. “A great god had been the protector of the clan, helping to nurture the next generation of C.O.S. fighters.” The master took another drink. Rūkasu noticed he was getting tense but had still been curious. He had never heard much of his ancestry from his mothers tree. He was far too young at the time and his father forbade his mother from teaching him.
“Nurture the next generation? How can you nurture a generation when only a select few can access the system? The way you described it, only 1 in a thousand can unlock it.” Yet another drink. “This clan was special…They had full access from birth. The stipulations you had compared to them are night and day. I don’t think they even had to lose anything to gain access honestly. Maybe like a finger but nothing as extreme as an eye.” chuckling he continued. “As I said , everyone in this clan was born into the C.O.S. at least until they overreached, wanting to expand the clan. They had brought in outsiders to spawn more offspring and learned that if the offspring was not purely of the Kazesuji clan the system would remain locked until their 18th birthday. This is when the other stipulations had also been discovered. The children with happy and loving childhoods that never lost anything dear to them never gained access on their birthday, sealing the System to them forever. However, the ones who endured constant agony and loss, the system opened to them almost immediately on their 18th birthday. It was strange but this is where the creed had been born.”
Rūkasu pulled the fist from the fish and began to peel pieces off, eating it before it had a chance to cool. “Okay, so I understand that but with all that power backing the clan how could they possibly have been wiped out? It seems with all of the Combatants using the Operating System they would be an unstoppable force. They could have unified all of the country if they had put their minds to it.”
Tipping his gourd all the way back and draining it, Amon looked truly sad. “Yes, they could have. There was a problem though. The Great War God worshipped by the clan had made such a goal taboo. Punishable by death. Fearing conflict would only grow, he did not want to see his subjects abuse this gift and become even more power hungry. If the clan had wanted not only could they unite the country, the Kazesuji’s could and would have taken over the entire continent. The War God had to keep them in check. Between fighting off conflicts around the country for the mortals who desperately needed his aid and keeping the clan in order he had failed to see that to the east another Combatant had entered the fray. Nobunaga Oda. He had amassed an army and made his way west staking claim to the lands as he went. He had known of the Kazesuji clan and feared their power and struck their village, burning their temple down to nothing but ash all in a single night. The clan, bound by an oath to not attack, could only try to flee. It was said none had escaped but you are living proof that the last bit of this tale is folly.”
Rūkasu watched as his master tried to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes. “Master, you talk as if you were there when it happened. That could not be. From my understanding it was almost 100 years ago.”
The old man stiffened his back and sniffled and grabbed his own fish taking a bite. He looked disappointed as he peered down and saw that the whole fish was completely burnt black. “You’re right I was not there. It is just a sad story that gets to me everytime. It happens with age. Sad stories pull on your heartstrings and all that.”
Nodding, Rūkasu finished eating and pondered on the lore he had just been given. Minutes of silence passed by before Rūkasu looked up and said, “Tell me about this relic? Keep the lore coming. I need to learn about it and its capabilities and why it chose me.”
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Sighing, the old man stood up and refilled his gourd with more wine. “Alright young man, I shall. There is a lot to learn, so listen well and do not interrupt me. Understood?”
“I understand.” Rūkasu could not remember the last time he was so excited to learn something. Stretching out and relaxing he prepared to soak in all the information he was about to receive.
“Alright.. First I have to tell you the origins of how the relic was brought into the world.” Taking a deep breath, Amon cleared his throat and spoke as clearly as he could. "It was said long ago that a bargain was struck between the human clans and the god, Bishamon. The Great Deity, sick of the endless conflict no longer wished to protect the Warriors of the Warring States, instead he crafted seven magical items, giving one to each of the major clans saving two only for himself being his sword, which could fell all adversaries in his wake and The Rosary of Immortality.
Upon the creation of these relics Bishamon claimed that the true powers of these relics would be untapped until the true owner held them. Only then would the true owner reach Elysium. With the relics released into the world the War God vanished from the mortal plane-.”
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Go back, you got your story wrong old man.” interrupting the old man, Rūkasu knew something was off with the story. “The story says that the rosary was shrouded in mystery, not that it granted immortality.”
With a quick swing of his walking stick the old man hit Rūkasu in the arm. “I said do not interrupt me. I know the story but the one told to most people is slightly skewed. The rest of the story is all hearsay of what the relics are but one of the few things that was right is that one had never been given to a clan. That eye in your skull. It had been kept hidden. Passed along until the rightful user was found. You.”
The firelight shimmered in Rūkasu’s eyes, captivated with the story. “The eye was meant to be secret. Its powers are on par with the sword and rosary the god took with him when he left our realm. It is meant to absorb the other relics and their powers to create something of pure destructive beauty. I don’t even think The Great War God knew what the full capabilities would be. However I do know on good authority that he had forged this relic separately from the others. The eye was meant to unify the relics into one to create the key to Elysium.” Thinking back on the folktale, Rūkasu pondered more on his master's words. A question appeared in his head which he promptly blurted out. “So, does that make the story told to our people just bullshit?” With a great sigh Amon stood once again. “You know I did say I would train you to use the eye, but first I think we should really work on that mouth of yours. It seems to get you in quite a bit of trouble.”
THUMP! The walking stick bounced off the top of Rūkasu’s head. “Gahh! What the hell?!” THUMP! THUMP! Two more strikes bounced across the boy's spiky head of orange hair. “No swearing! A hero has no need to curse the way you do.” Rubbing the top of his head, Rūkasu looked over in anger at the old man. “Don't give me that look. It is time you learned to be a proper warrior. Cast aside the streetrat you once were and show me a true Ashen Warrior of the C.O.S.!”
Cast aside the streetrat? Easier said than done. As long as I could remember this is all I have known. These thoughts constantly plagued Rūkasu’s mind every single day he had been outcast from his childhood home. Feeling a heavy hand on his shoulder he looked into his master’s eye. “I am no warrior of the ashes. I am no warrior period.”
Smiling, the old man looked back at Rūkasu. “No, not yet. Not even close but that fighting spirit of yours I saw when that gang had come after you showed me that you will be one of the greatest warriors this country has seen in this era.”
A small smile crept across Rūkasu’s face. He hadn’t felt confidence in himself in so long from anyone, that hearing these words made him want to make them a reality. Not for him, but for his master. He would hate to see that confidence his master had in him turn into pity. “Come outside. I think it is about time you met someone who is closer to you than you know.”
