Chapter 37: Specialization

The prized day had come.

A new year dawned on the children of the household, raised to a new rank, the second of four they could ascend to before the last major step forward. An inevitable judgment that would cement their position within the clan for years to come. Ia where they all stood together for the time being.

Groggy from the early rise, all the children gathered outside as usual, primed and ready to meet the day. Takeo’s overwhelming shadow shone down upon them, within it a different change of pace. Another step forward.

“Today is what you’ve all anticipated,” Takeo announced in a calm soft tone. “Today we begin specialization, where you will ascend to with your weaponry.”

A small burst of cheer enveloped the group, all contained within their mouths, releasing it through the gleeful folds of their faces. This day one all looked forward to in their lives. Years spent in their childhood to grasp and carve their path for the weapon they felt most comfortable embracing. To use to kill for the clan.

Takeo turned around and motioned them to follow, the guardians escorting them from behind as they delightfully shuffled down the same cobbled path toward the basics corner of Harion. Their designated spot. But this time, it wasn’t bare bones. Someone was waiting for them.

“But, we will not be doing this alone,” Takeo mentioned, pausing as he tilted his head forward to acknowledge the crowd in their midst.

“Your brother's house will be with us. Your rivals and your companions in the life we fight for. One granted by the Sun, and for all. . .”

Takeo tried his best to convey a sense of brotherhood, but at the sight of each other, his words fell flat. On the opposing sides of the gravel-scattered grounds, each stared down their rivaling twenty-five students. A mix of new and unknown faces previously isolated from them for a year. Forced separation for separated learning, two squads of five the result to come in due time.

Kiyo peeked between shifting bodies at the array of new grisly faces planted in front of them. A little shaken by the new sets of eyes, he refrained from stepping out. His nerves shut down what confidence he contained, sweat fresh on his brow. So many new people a hindrance to his spirit, a horde of judgment he had no interest in panning through.

Trailing on thin ice, Yuudai took the lead in progressing this meeting as he marched forward to meet Takeo in the middle of the grounds. With a firm fist pounded on his heart, he greeted his fellow trainer and officially opened the morning for what was to follow. Around them, Guardians stood at the edges of the marked space to keep watch over all gathered. Disputes and rivalries gone rogue were nothing new, and the darting eyes and judgmental whispers were only red flags for such a fight to break out.

“Takeo, doing well?” Yuudai questioned with a wry smirk through his narrowed gaze.

“Yes. . .you?”

“I’m well, very well. This has to be my best class yet, I can’t lie.” Yuudai smacked his lips, gesturing to the children around them. “You want to take the lead?”

“Sure. . . best class deserves to go first,” Takeo muttered as he brushed past Yuudai with a subtle bump to step into the limelight of the kids' focus. “We will all begin weaponry training today. Treat each other with no difference to those in your household. We are allies, brothers, and fellow souls of the Sun. Act like it.” Takeo said sharply.

Yuudai nodded and glanced between the two groups, his emerald eyes picking at the competition with the children he had trained. A soft smile creased his aged wrinkles, confident in his abilities as a teacher. Yet the loss to Takeo still resided in the recesses of his mind, this traditional competition his way to beat him. To ascend to lead trainer in Harion.

“Yes, we’ll take you all in the same,” Yuudai said in high regard, arms open up wide, a bo staff clutched in his left hand.

“But, know this.” Takeo cut in. “You will all compete against each other in squads at this season’s end. Practice for the real world that awaits you. House against the house in the glory of the Sun.”

“A win is not what determines your future. How you fight is what will.” Yuudai added earnestly, right pointer finger raised toward the sun as a tattered smile cracked his lips apart.

Amplifying the importance of his words, Yuudai swung his staff into the air, its rounded end directed right at the heart of the Sun. With the staff, the children’s intrigued peered into the ash-ridden sky, eyes sparkling with the Sun’s embrace. The overcast storm clouds were broken up by a small flock of pterodukyl, a touch of life in the most desolate of places.

These flying beasts specifically were ducks that had undergone Jurassic adaptations to cope with the crude skies above and terrifying creatures below. With roughened skin, rows of teeth in their beaks, bladed wings, and clawed feet, they flew ever so freely. Passing through the desert to more prominent lands.

“We just want to see your best. For the grace of the Sun and the High Priest, don’t let yourself fall short.” Yuudai relayed with a thud of his staff against the roughened earth.

“Every third rotation, we will meet on the amory side and train to get you all acquainted with every weapon of choice,” Takeo announced, his left arm swinging around as he pointed to the grand hall to the right of the temple.

The aged deadwood building was formed by stacking and the use of cross-sections of tarred beams interlinked to construct the appraised structure. The ceiling was left open enough for rays of light to bleed into the weaponry hall within. Small little blessings over the weapons before their use. Next to it was a workshop for their inspection and manufacturing by dedicated craftsmen. Followers committed to the Sun.

Their lives a small part of the Sunretsu clan’s growth in power, all thanks to the Sun.

Yuudai stepped forward and stomped his staff onto the ground once more.

“In time, you will find what suits you best. What the Sun has specialized you with.” Yuudai paused, a brief flutter of joy escaping his lips as days of the past cycled through his mind. “What your gifts truly are. Your potential.”

“We will meet with you one on one for those sessions. Everyone will get a turn, but it’s up to you to use it. To train yourself.” Takeo slipped in, practically competing with his fellow trainer with his words.

“Understood?” Yuudai asked with a narrow gaze cast around the crowd.

All the children nodded in unison, quiet anxious breaths and slight twitches the only opposition to what had been told to them directly. No one dared to stare off into space. All instructions regarding the year ahead were detrimental to their growth. A determiner of who their true competition would be.

“Good.” Takeo glanced at Yuudai, assuring they were on the same page, but all he saw was a conniving smile. This rivalry deeper than just being a method of training, it was their livelihoods on the line as well. Positions beneath the Sun at risk.

The two groups dispersed as the teachers fell into secretive conversation, all the children’s movements confined as they made their way to the armory. But on the inside, every single one of them was begging to just get a look inside. It was any Paladinian child’s dream to step into such a place, to hold such refined materials blessed by the Sun. Yet Eiko looked on with an odd distaste spread across his lips.

“Tch. I don’t want to train with them. Bunch of earth-eaters,” Eiko groaned in a whiny tone.

“Earth-eaters?” Kono questioned, unable to make sense of the title.

“What’s wrong with them?” Daisuke chimed in, more interest in the former than the latter.

“Cause. . .just look at them. They’re weird, and—they’re just nothing like us.” Eiko wanned on.

Daisuke glanced across the courtyard at their brothers and sisters within the clan. A bunch of stagnant and weary faces was all that littered the cluttered group. No connection formed or needed to understand where their ties lay: enemies by choice.

But Daisuke only slipped into confusion at the very thought of it. Curious as to why they were like this. His emerald gaze hovered over the fellow children who had fought so hard to get here. They were no different than himself, souls wandering the planet they had been born into.

“How?” Kono mocked with utter confusion spread across his face.

“Just—look at that one. The Moon-sized head, bald rock muncher. Why would I train with that?” Eiko relayed with a tad too loud of a tone.

Echoing across the courtyard, the other boy caught wind of Eiko’s words, a grisly scowl cast Eiko’s way.

“What did you say?” The boy called out through gritted teeth.

“He’s not talking about me, heheeeh—right?” Eiko muttered, the coward in him peeking out.

But the boy was, the purposeful strides made to close the distance between them only made it clearer. Legs swift and arms cocked for the fight he anticipated.

“No, he’s just coming this way 'cause it wasn’t you,” Kono sarcastically blurted out with a slight chuckle piercing his lips.

“Shit,” Eiko murmured, struggling to hide from the oncoming unstoppable force.

But he was too slow. Within seconds, his gaze was driven upward as he looked upon the boy he had insulted. Towering above him, Eiko gulped down his guilt as he tried to laugh it off. Yet his pathetic little grumble fell to the feet of the masculine boy, not amused in the slightest. Despite being in such obvious peril, Eiko couldn’t help but notice the reflection bouncing off this boy’s head. His laughter only grew at the sight of it.

“Hey. . .what are you laughing at shorty?” The bald boy muttered with a thumb flicked against Eiko’s chest.

Swatting away the unwanted hand, all Eiko could do was play it off. But he couldn’t. Brow lined with sweat and legs sent into a wobble, his nerves took control as they spilled out of his mouth.

“Wait—are you—uhm—me? Nah, must’ve been someone—over there.” Eiko said loosely as he gestured toward a random place in the crowd.

“Moon head, right? Is that it??” The boy instigated stepping closer.

“Pfft. Nope. Not at all, not all. Not the look—just the right size though, I can’t lie.” The insult just slipped out of Eiko’s mouth, second nature for such a problem child.

Within an instant, the boy’s eyebrows narrowed in on the person he considered dead, lifting Eiko by the collar of his training gear toward the heavens. Teeth gritted with a visceral bloody hue, he gnashed them inches from Eiko’s face.

“How about I break yours open?” The boy muttered in a sadistic manner, teeth cracking into a smile.

Biff.

“Don’t touch him,” Kiyo muttered fiercely, a deathly stare encapsulated in the radiant gleam of his pure yellow eyes. Such tenacity conveyed it nearly sparked out of his eye sockets.

Taking control of the situation, Kiyo shoved the boy off Eiko and took place as a barrier between the two of them. Finally given some assistance, Eiko heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for his skull remaining intact, but also for his friends. Kono, Daisuke, and Shoma right behind Kiyo, ready to strike.

“Who even are you?” The boy asked, confusion swamping his pale hairless skin.

“You heard him,” Shoma added, stepping forward to Kiyo’s side. “Eiko’s dumb enough as it is.”

“Hey. . .not like I asked you to help,” Eiko grumbled under his breath.

Taking notice of the commotion, two more earth-bound boys made their way over to the scuffle. One equivalent to Shoma’s height, an unnatural beast that shook the ground as he walked over and the other a skimpy-toned child, parallel opposites in nature.

“Greinya, what’s happening?” The small kid questioned with a tinge of refined interest in his glare.

Greinya. Layered with tanned skin that glossed over his bald body, he was a rarity in and of himself. Absent of any pigmentation across or within his skin, he was left hairless and colorless from birth. Such a unique child could only convey himself in the golden yellow beads that dotted his skull. Beautiful glistening eyes that sparked with a touch of ruby.

“Nothing Iris. Just a couple of sunless dirt crawlers.” Greinya spat back right into Shoma’s face.

Greinya tried to cover up his aggression as Iris approached, the smaller of the two boys marked with an unconvincing dishonest smile. At first glance, it was easy to tell there was more to this boy than meets the eye. Such a frail frame home to a clouded swirl of sunlight and the forest in his gaze, and a signature birthmark next to his left eye. A crescent moon, the insignia of the fallen children of Amaterasu.

“But you’re in the earth house,” Daisuke pointed out, his brain stalling with Greinya’s comment.

“Yeah—well, you look like a fielder's son.” Greinya shot back, the insult a weak one even for a child.

“Fielders—what?” Eiko spewed out between hiccups of laughter.

“Is his head actually broken?” Kono whispered to Daisuke, words plagued with partial concern for the bald baking boy.

“I will beat your—”

“Greinya, let’s relax. Okay? None of that.” Iris said with a solemn pat on Greinya’s back. “Save it for the spars later. They’ll see.”

“The spars?” Daisuke interrupted, lost for thought.

Eiko shook his head at the aimless conversation, tired of the questions as he squeezed his way through to the front. Toe to toe with Iris.

“Forget that, who are you?” Eiko spat out right into Iris’ face.

“To someone like you: a savior,” Iris said with a touch of irritable warmth.

“Are you—”

“Don’t,” Shoma demanded, gripping Eiko’s shoulder to prevent his demise.

“No, you should say it. But then again, you already know the answer,” Iris tacked on, pricking Eiko’s pride one word at a time.

Greinya chuckled at the thought and strolled back over to Iris, both of them looking down on Eiko with a mix of pity and repulsion. They were disgusted by the very sight of him. How could someone so useless make it this far?

“You belong on your hands and knees praising someone like him. . .dirt crawler” Greinya retorted with a thump against Eiko’s forehead.

Daisuke heard enough. Without another word, he slid into the fray and thrust Greinya and Iris back with what strength he could muster.

“Back off,” Daisuke said coldly, head downcast.

“Okay. I will. But one thing—”

“He said back—off.” Kiyo stepped forward to Iris, not letting another word out as he reduced the space between them to mere inches. One exhale was the other’s inhale. Yin and yang interwoven in conflict

“Oh. . .I like you.” Iris muttered creepily.

Whoosh!

Kiyo had barely any time to react as a fist soared toward his face. Grazed by two meaty hands, the third member of their group just decided to take action. Haruo, a buff child regarded as having stones for hands, was lacking in brains where given brawn. His soulless forest green eyes contrasted the white freckles dotting his Sun-beaten face, almost hidden by his long curly golden locks. A creature bred for destruction.

“You want to die?” Haruo murmured in a croaky grumble.

The two groups prepared for an onslaught, ready to result to fists to deal with the childish atmosphere that had twisted itself into a violent one. Grinding teeth and vicious glares were all that filled the silence between them, but then they all fell flat. Distracted by a sweet lullaby wavering from behind them, its beholder charged toward them. A petite little girl.

“Iris! We need to get moving!” She called out in an innocent high pitchy voice.

“Ughh, not now.” Iris groaned, irritated by the very sound of her existence.

“Iris, what’s happening. . .here.” Her brain stalled mid-sentence, unable to get out another word as her gaze fell upon Kiyo. A sight to behold.

“Nothing Uta,” Iris responded, waving off Kiyo and the others.

Greinya, Haruo, and Iris followed behind the rest of the children as they sped after the teachers. The time to enter the armory was upon them, the trek there oh so short.

But Uta lingered for a moment, her vibrant summer orange eyes stuck on Kiyo through her blonde bangs that parted the sea of white that draped down from her head. Unable to look away as she gawked at him, sinking deeper and deeper into his eyes. Heart racing she couldn’t bare to look away, to do so would be to die. But was death worth such a fate?

“Uta c’mon!” Greinya called out between cupped hands.

“Oh–right. Bye!” Uta blurted out, taking off after her group.

And like that it was over, everything back to normal or so Eiko thought. But it only took a second to notice the amount of beady eyes locked onto him. Everyone offset by his stupidity.

“You just had to say something,” Kono muttered with a headshake.

“It was a joke, man. I—I didn’t think he’d lose it!” Eiko said struggling to defend himself.

“Still, why even?” Daisuke asked.

“Just—was better than being bored,” Eiko admitted head hung forward in shame.

“What a reason,” Kono said, unable to hide his judgment.

Falling in line behind the teachers, they made the short walk between the spar stones toward the armory. Within seconds of stepping into the building, they were awestruck at the sight unveiled to them. The very foundations of the Sunretsu clan on full display.

Rows upon rows of various collections of weapons used by every warrior lined the walls. Assortments of different bone, obsidian, and even some black stone. Daggers, katanas, naginata, shurikens, nunchucks, axes, and staffs were held up by spokes that protrude out of the wall from the ceiling to the floor. All hand carved for easy handling and precision, not the most durable material but chiseled to max efficiency. Sharp enough to split a hair blown into the air.

Takeo walked over to the left side of the room and removed a traditional obsidian-bladed katana from the rack. The sleek stone shaved down to a fine edge, its hilt a coar rope wrap that slid comfortably into his palms. Such a weapon was wielded only by the best of warriors.

Whiff! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Stone-faced, Takeo performed a couple of traditional swings, the strength and agility of the weapon put on full display. A sight to behold as they all gazed at it with unspoken astonishment. One of the sacred things they had only previously seen in the market upscaled for high-end prices. Obsidian, hard enough to come by, could only be used by the most delicate of smiths. When crafted just right the weapon produced was leagues above any other. A monster killer.

“You will only use wooden blades while you train within these walls. These. . .these are something you must earn to wield. You must take pride in.” Takeo relayed with a subtle smirk.

All the children looked on in admiration, their teachers something they aspired to rise to. A level of praise that adorned them with the ability to cut down any who opposed the clan. Able to defend themselves, their families, and their towns from the dark outside forces untouched by the Sun. Becoming unstoppable was the goal, such a frivolous dream.

“Starmen, crawlers, prestige, staffmen, and boulderans.”

Bow users, close combat fighters, swordsmen, long-ranged weapon users, and tanks were the five divisions of Sun warriors to put it simply. Each was a necessary component of a squad, a foundation of the Sunretsu clan. Each component was fit with the adequate warrior to hold such a role.

“Those are the five main weapons classes. You will each use all of them but only one will be yours for the taking. The choice one those of the most high will decide.” Yuudai clarified, waving his staff from side to side, garnering interest from the crowd.

“In time, we will decide what the Sun has gifted you. Where you, as a warrior, belong.” Stepping toward the children, he drove the point into the floor with a firm stomp. “Till then, you will master them all,” Takeo demanded as he continued in his forlorn speech.

“You will have a few fulls to prepare yourself, to grasp an understanding of the delicate touch wound in the hilt of each blade, to make yourselves—better.” Takeo proclaimed, a quick side eye flashed in Daisuke’s direction, more meaning than could ever be perceived.

Daisuke couldn’t help but let a smile sneak through the tension of the moment, drawn in by Takeo’s words that withdrew such a fickle hope. That he could rise above the rest and become someone worthy of the warrior mantel. Kiyo didn’t pester with such thoughts, mind lost in the beauty that was the katana Takeo set back upon the rack. Itching to grasp the blade, to begin the next step.

“But don’t forget. . .not everyone gets to take the step that follows. Some have to fall for others to grow, to thrive in this world takes overcoming oneself. It’s the way of the world.” Takeo relayed in a surprisingly somber tone, mind relieved of his position for just a moment, empathy able to seep through the cracks.

At the sound of such a fate, all else fell silent. You could hear the faint heartbeat of those close, its pace accelerated by the reminder of what was on the line. Five seats, five chances to ascend to the highest rank within the clan with ease. The right to claim their birthright.

The very purpose they were born for was at stake. Brought up under the tender care of the clan, they were bred to become the best for such a lifestyle. Survival was branched not off coherence but adaptability. To succeed was to overcome all things, to make the trek down the pathway sprawling ahead of them in one piece.

A path laced with betrayal.