Blood filled the young man’s mouth, foaming in its own coppery bitterness until young Genshu could do nothing but part his lips and let the vile essence pour from his mouth.

“Enough!” The commanding voice decreed, silencing all action within the dojo. Heavy footfalls rained down upon the polished wooden floor as the High Sensei stopped to appraise the injured combatant.

Genshu collapsed to his knees as he stared at his master, wiping blood from his mouth. He was now a student of the Temple of the Silver Moon for five years, and thus, daily rituals such as this had become commonplace. And with admired appraisal of his own future, he came to the realization that he feared his own destiny. Yet the uncertainty of the future never terrified him more than when he was in the presence of this man.

“You are weak Genshu!” High-Sensei Da-Tan proclaimed, grabbing the young man by his hair and hoisting him to his feet. “When will you ever learn? Fight to win because to lose is death. I have trained you and still you hold back. What do you fear from fighting your opponent?”

“Forgive me sensei.” Genshu answered, bowing as was customary when in the presence of the lord. “I did not wish him harm.”

Da-Tan stood, studying Genshu’s affirmation for the briefest of moments. Had he been another man, he would have laughed at such a foolish statement. However, he was the man he was, and his response came in a blinding blow, driving his bamboo cane into Genshu’s midsection. The young apprentice felt the wind rush from his body as he dropped painfully to the ground, and yet still more blood tricked into his mouth.

“Never speak of such cowardice to me!” Da-Tan screamed, standing over Genshu’s crumpled form lying on the unforgiving floor. “Did your opponent withhold from you? Did he wish to spare you pain? Did I spare you from this pain? Life is pain, you must accept and move on. Understand that there can be no hesitation, no weakness. Fear is death. From this day forward, you will treat every battle as if it were your last, for one day, that belief will be true. That includes your training as well. If I do not see that you have improved, I will consider you a liability and kill you personally, do I make myself clear?”

“Y…yes sensei.” Genshu stammered, hoping the tears of pain welling in his eyes were not perceived as fear. However, in truth, there was more fear than pain in him at this moment.

Da-Tan studied the frail student as if preparing to speak when the ceremonial chime echoed throughout the temple. At the sound of this call, the students ceased their activities and waited for their instructions.

“Dismissed!” Da-Tan ordered after a moment of scrutiny of Genshu. Then, turning away from the failed pupil, Da-Tan led his assembly from the dojo to the meeting chamber.

Genshu stared after the disappearing assembly and, holding his right ribs, eased himself off the hard wooden floor, choking back his sobs of grief and fret. Yet, despite the pain and swelling blood that continued to trickle into his mouth, Genshu understood the teachings of the temple, and as was taught, perfection of body and mind are met through such sacrifices. Rising shakily to his feet, Genshu followed his fellow students to the meeting hall.

The young man was fortunate, as he knew, to have arrived within the spacious chamber prior to the initiation of the meeting, for lateness was a disrespect met with the severest of punishments. Genshu entered the chamber and found his place, kneeling beside Sai, his training partner. Kneeling in the standard position, Genshu awaited the beginning of the meeting. Few of the younger studies however found it most appropriate to take such ritual less than serious. They were however, trained soon enough.

The room was a large chamber, decorated only by the finely polished wood that consisted of the ceremonial chamber itself. Stationed at the far end of this room were a series of steps, ending in a platform, on top of which was the pedestal for the conducting of these meetings. It was customary, when such a gathering was summoned, to see the Three Lords of the Temple of the Silver Moon upon the stage. Yet, a fourth person, standing before the lords, quickly caught the attention of all in attendance.

The man in question was tall, with a sincere disposition and knowledgeable eyes. His graying hair was offset by the brilliant Royal Blue robe and headdress he wore. Clutched within his right fist was a large gold staff, the emblem of the Priestdom of Harmonia displayed proudly upon the head of the staff. However, his appearance as regal and almost fatherly only expanded his popularity as the Lord of Harmonia, High Priest Kanuscala Nesoka.

He did not speak but only stepped from the platform and began his inspection of the warriors under his direct control. Flanked on either side of the High Priest were Master Kin and Lord Mediator Kalibas, followed closely behind by High Sensei Da-Tan, who made no effort to hide his displeasure with following behind his fellow lords. By rank, Da-Tan was superior to Kalibas, but the High Priest himself appointed the Lord Mediator as to be his personal ambassador to the Temple of the Silver Moon. Thus, in the presence of the High Priest, the Lord Mediator ranked over even Master Kin.

High Priest Nesoka continued his study, pausing before each samurai warrior to study with great interest the one before him, as if he were the prince, seeking the one to fit the glass slipper.

He stopped his march, pausing at a young boy. Raising the child’s face to study his eyes, the High Priest gazed into the child’s eyes, as if to weigh his own soul.

“This one will be fine.” The High Priest reasoned, telling two followers of his choice, before turning from the child and marching toward the door to depart, followed closely by Masters Kin, Kalibas and Da-Tan. Upon their departure, two priests, servants of the High Priest, made their way through the rows of samurai, still kneeling, unmoving, and grabbed the young child chosen by the High Priest and led him from the chamber. A moment later, as in accordance to protocol, the assembled mass of disciples rose, bowed to the podium and exited the room to continue their exercises for the day.

Genshu stalked through the depths of the temple, observing various trainings of the younger recruits. One in particular caught his attention, as trainings of the younger recruits. One in particular caught his attention, as the sensei lowered the hand of a young boy to the flame of a candle.

Genshu watched as the young recruit struggled to escape the offending heat, screaming in protest as he did so. Eyes of pity and understanding stared at the suffering child as Genshu could sense the heat, remember the burning flesh of his own hand as he underwent such trainings.

“You must ignore the pain…” The sensei began, pushing the child’s hand closer to the flames despite the youth’s wailing cries of pain.

“…for pain is but an extension of your mind. When you deny your pain, you will find your peace.” Genshu finished the phrase, whispering the words absentmindedly to himself before returning his attention to his present path.

Holding his left ribs inattentively, Genshu had not noticed that the blood no longer consumed his mouth, yet the taste was more unforgiving than he would have liked. Emerging from the narrow, cloistered hallway, Genshu entered the shrine of the Temple of the Silver Moon, a large room depicting monuments of those fallen champions, protectors of the temples culture.

Many of the woodcarvings and statures representing the fallen heroes had become worn or brittle from age. Genshu had enjoyed this room, this chamber of lost souls, for he found solace in the presence of these legendary defenders of the righteous. For their deaths, and their recognition within this chamber, bore witness to the truth that the temple served the nobility of the people, and that dream was worth any cost.

Genshu made his way through the large chamber and maze-like positioning of statues until he found the one he sought. The stature was of the deceased warrior known as Meiyoken. It was the most recent reproduction, and thus, the easiest to find.

The story of Meiyoken was well known throughout the hallowed halls of the temple, for he was on a simple, routine mission for Lord Kalibas when he was beseeched by bandits along the notable trade route between the cities of Alistair and Montre. In the fight, Meiyoken fell eight bandits before dying to an arrow shot in the back. The attack was so skilled, it was assumed a ninja completed the deathblow, however, his death to a ninja only furthered his standing as a hero. For ninjas, though skilled and cunning, were nothing but cowards, killing indiscriminately from the shadow. Senseless and honorless thieves they were. Yet, what further earned Maiyoken’s place among the great legends of the temple, was that his actions saved the life of the High Priest, who prepared to journey that road later the night. It was his caravan that found the slain body of Maiyoken.

Genshu admired the man, but not for his deeds, but because when he first arrived, Maiyoken was the only disciple of the temple to show him kindness. He had died three years ago, and Genshu slowly felt his belief and hope for survival within this temple, die with the hero.

“A little late to be paying respects, isn’t it?” A voice echoed from behind a nearby sculpture, startling Genshu into realization that he was not alone, as Sai stepped from behind the statue.

“Sai?” Genshu remarked, his lips parting in a sardonic smile before turning his attention back to the statue. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I noticed you skipped dinner, I came looking for you.”

“I’m not really hungry.” Genshu said slightly, his eyes blurring as he recalled the harsh words of Da-Tan. “Besides, everything taste like blood in this place.”

A look of concern crossed Sai’s face as he chose to change the subject. “I heard you had a rough day of it. You should have known better than to fight Zorin.”

“Oh really? Why is that?” Genshu inquired, not really caring for the explanation, but knowing Sai would enlighten him regardless.

“Oh, let’s see, where to begin. He’s older, bigger, faster, stronger, more skilled…you can stop me anytime.” Sai smiled, enjoying the times he chose to rib his friend. Within these walls, friendship was often frowned upon, therefore, those relationships allowed to flourish often proved thicker than blood. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Just thinking.” Genshu stated, never taking his eyes off the towering statue. After a moment of uneasy silence, Genshu continued, reading the serenity as his cue to continue. “Who was that boy the High Priest chose?”

“Oh, him? Not really sure. I think his name was Kaeg or something like that. He’s new here so I’m not really sure. You can’t tell me your thinking about that. Come on Genshu, what’s really bothering you?”

Another moment of silence ensued before Genshu continued. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if the temple never came for us? I have a family somewhere, I’d like to know I can see them again, yet when I close my eyes, I can’t picture them anymore. I just have to wonder, will I end up like this when my journey ends?” Genshu said, pointing to the statue. “I had hopes and dreams for my future. I really don’t want to believe my fate is decided. I want to rule my own life.”

“Ah, independence, a romantic illusion. Men, Genshu, must come to understand that their life is governed by some force, either it be supernatural or political, life is never what one believes he can obtain. Life is merely what fate hands you, and thus, you must ‘make the best of it’.”

“Truly? And what of hope? How can we not believe that there is something better out there if we have never seen it?” Genshu countered.

“Really, and if we don’t see it, what makes you think it exists? You can spend your entire life looking for hope and never find it. Or, you can accept your fate, and live your life as it was meant to be.”

“But should that not be my choice to make? You and I, and everyone within the temple, we were brought here under force. I would like to have been happy, but instead, I’m here, and my biggest fear is that I will end up like him,” Genshu stated, again signaling to the stature of Meiyoken. “Without ever knowing if there was something else for me. Tell me truthfully Sai, are the words your telling me your words or the temple’s?”

Sai paused a moment, a look a hurt and pain screaming from his eyes as he stared at his friend. “You forget Genshu, I was an orphaned street beggar, living off of rats and the kindness of people when the temple found me. I assure you, rats are more common than kindness in this world. So you preach to me about hope, tell me, what hope did I have? These walls, these clothes, the food I eat, it’s more than I ever had. That is my hope Genshu.”

Genshu cast his eyes to wooden floor, shame flushing his cheeks. “Forgive me Sai, I didn’t mean…”

“It…don’t worry about it.” Sai said, turning his attention back to the entrance of the shrine. “Look, I can’t tell you how to live your life, but Genshu, promise me you’ll at least obey the temple. Otherwise, you’ll get yourself killed.”

Genshu, eyes still downcast, nodded his head halfheartedly, as if the affirmation of Sai’s words confirmed the death of his own dreams. Raising his eyes once again, Genshu returned his attention to the large statue before him.