Chapter 4: Memories and the Memory Thief

I never wanted to hunt spirits. Not even the evil ones. Deep down, I kinda… liked them. They were lost, trapped between worlds, just like I was. 

I felt bad for them, knowing I couldn’t guide them back to the Sprite Realm. But that was before. Before my village. Before my family.

One night, everything I loved burned. Twisted spirits dozens of them tore through my home. 

Their claws ripped apart houses, their screams drowned out my mom’s voice calling my name. 

I was just a kid, frozen, watching flames eat everything. A spirit’s glowing eyes locked on me, its claws reaching 

Then he appeared.

An old man, face like cracked leather, stepped out of the dark. His voice boomed, chanting words I didn’t understand. 

Light exploded from his hands, chaining the spirits in glowing ropes. They wailed, fading into nothing. He saved me.

“You’re not done yet, boy,” he said, his eyes sharp but kind. “Come with me.”

That’s how I met my master. Without him, I’d be dead. He took me in, gave me a purpose. 

He wasn’t just some old guy he was a spirit sealer, one of the last. “These aren’t normal spirits,” he told me one night by a flickering fire. 

“They’re sinners, cursed to linger here. They’re driven by hunger, madness, cruelty. They destroy everything human.”

I didn’t care about their reasons. I hated them. They took my family, my home. Hate was all I had left.

Master tried to fix that. “Hate chains you,” he’d say, his voice rough like gravel. “Control your heart, Oshimaru. That’s where real power is.”

I didn’t listen. I just wanted to fight.

He trained me hard. Every dawn, we’d climb the jagged cliffs near his hut. My hands bled from gripping rocks, my legs shook, but he never let me quit. 

“Your body’s weak, but your spirit’s weaker,” he’d snap. “Toughen both. ”One day, he tossed me a wooden sword. 

“Attack me,” he said, standing still, no weapon. I swung with everything anger, pain, all of it. 

He dodged every strike like he was dancing, then tripped me with one flick of his foot. I hit the dirt, gasping.

“Stop swinging like a kid throwing a tantrum,” he said. “Spirits don’t care about your feelings. Focus. Feel the blade. Feel your will.”

He taught me to chant, to pull power from deep inside me. I’d sit cross-legged for hours, repeating ancient words until my throat burned. 

“Your will seals the spirit,” he said. “Swords just guide it.” Day after day, I pushed myself. My hands calloused, my chants got stronger. 

I wasn’t just training I was forging myself into a weapon. For revenge. One evening, Master’s voice got quiet. 

He was old, his body failing. We sat under the stars, his twin swords glinting beside him. 

“There’s a spirit,” he said, “one I’ve hunted for years. It’s worse than the rest. I won’t live to seal it.”

His eyes locked on mine. “You will.” He handed me his swords their weight heavy, like his whole legacy. 

“Swear you’ll seal it, Oshimaru. Swear on these blades.”

“I swear,” I said, gripping them tight. “What’s its name?” He opened his mouth to answer Then it hit.

A cold, sharp feeling, like ice stabbing my brain. My vision blurred. Master’s face faded. The name he was about to say… gone.

“No!” I shouted, clutching my head. “What was it? I need to know!”

Laughter slithered through the air, soft and cruel. A shadow moved in the trees barely a shape, more like mist with glowing eyes. A spirit.

It didn’t just steal thoughts. It stole purpose. My purpose. The one thing keeping me going Master’s final mission ripped away.

“Give it back!” I screamed, lunging at the mist. My swords slashed nothing but air. The laughter grew louder, mocking me, then faded.

I dropped to my knees, chest heaving. The forest was quiet again, but inside, I was screaming. Without that name, I was lost. My oath, my reason to fight gone.

Master’s words echoed in the dark: Control your heart. But how could I, when the Thief had stolen mine?

End of Chapter 4