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First steps

September 7, 2005

Title: first steps
Category: Fiction, Crossover — Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Keywords: time travel, samurai, miyamoto musashi, wudan
Summary: 17 years after he met Musashi, Israel has become a seasoned warrior with few peers.  However, mysteries about his past and his being place a burden in his heart that will push him to the mountains of Wudan.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Wudan Mountain.  Sony Pictures has rights to that, i think. Not claiming, harming, or selling through them. Don’t sue me, i’m penniless anyway. Just having a little fun with stories :D
TIMELINE: 2nd Story of Israel, under the tutelage of Musashi.
Author notes:

oooo000oooo

Chapter 1

Seventeen years.

Seventeen years has passed since the day Israel woke up with the rain on his face, lying in the mud of a rice farm in japan. 17 years since he met the renowned miyamoto musashi. 17 years of brutal training under the man, 17 years of friendship and guidance, 17 years of living and learning the ways of the samurai.

17 years, and he still had no idea who he was.

At the early months under musashi’s tutelage, israel picked his brains, wondering why he didn’t know who he was and where he came from. he searched for clues, asked a lot of questions. but exhaustion soon came in, under the relentless training of his master. but that was just temporary, of course. when it became apparent that his lack of knowledge on his background was something akin to permanent, musashi took him aside, and told him that he is a new man now, essentially. and this is his home, his life. his past is forgotten, his yesterdays, washed away. normally, israel took musashi’s lessons to heart, but not this lesson. because he knew, in his heart, that he didn’t belong where he was.

he dreams of mechanical contraptions and electric wonders. he knows he’s in the past (whatever that means), and he knows he came from a different time, a different place. how he got where he was, he had no idea. 17 years, he searched for an answer. he’s still searching now.

because the mystery of his past is but one of the unanswered questions in Israel’s life.

Chapter 2

walking in the market was always an interesting experience for israel.  Being the protege of the renowned master, he was respected and awed.  people smiled at him, and bowed. but for some, there was an air of suspicion, and fear that can easily turn into violence.

because in the past 17 years since that morning he woke up lying in the rice paddies, israel has not aged a day.

he walked with an absolute air of indifference, as if he was the master of everything he surveyed.  his master has taught him much, and his skill was considerable.  among all the students that mushashi took, he was the fastest, the strongest, the most attuned to the sword’s own timing… but most importantly, he has reached the zenith of his master’s training… absolute control over his own body.

“my lord! my lord!” came a voice from his left. “papayas for you and your master!”

israel turned and saw an old lady offering him a basket full of papayas. he recognized the woman as the mother of a child who once fell from a tree and broke his arm.  israel happened to be passing by, picked up the child, and applied what has been taught to him about mending broken bones by his master.  he then brought the child to the village healer, where he was assured that if not for his intervention, the child could have further worsened his injuries, and could have made his arm permanently unusable.

pleased with the offer, israel moved to accept the fruits when he spotted a small group of men coming towards him.

men of the spira clan. warriors known for their poisoned weapons and treacherous ways.

still unspeaking, israel quietly motioned for the old woman to get far away from him and began to move towards the middle of the street. unhurried and unworried, he stood relaxed and faced the determined-looking men coming towards him. seven of them. bearing various weapons and clear intentions. seeing the group, all the people around the market hurriedly got out of the way.

he knew what they wanted.  israel is known to be one of the most fearsome swordsman in the land, second only to his master.  outnumbering him and circling him, the men of spira hoped to take him down, and raise the notoriety of their clan.

israel recognized the men.  it seems that the spira has sent its best — all of them were masters by their own rights.  perhaps the brewing war between the spira clan and bolshu house has something to do with this impending attack.  the spira needs to bolster their morale, and how better to do it than take down a fighter with very few peers?

stupid, israel thought. utterly stupid. even if he falls (which he knows he would not), would the spira really risk the fury of musashi, and all his students, to be directed against them?

israel’s musings stopped as he felt the guy in his left side move. this one’s particular weapon was a bo staff with bear claws attached to the ends.  with this guy’s initiative, the other six moved.

by attacking at the same time, the men of spira hoped to provide too many targets for israel and prayed that even one of them would get through. against an ordinary swordsman, this would have worked. but israel was trained in the school of iaijutsu, where timing is everything. and he was trained by the best.

israel danced.

using a ‘soft stare’ technique where he didn’t focus on any individual but instead allowed a wide frame for his vision, israel saw the men move. like all his battles before this, his training kicked in and made things act as if in slow motion.

skip, block, riposte. a long swing that instantly slashed three of his enemies. using the wakisashi on his left hand to parry the remaining blows, the katana on his right hand finished the fight mere seconds after it has begun.

years later, movie makers would try to recreate the move where the protagonist would make slashing motions and his enemies would be remain still as if frozen. then blood would gush out and all of them would fall down simultaneously. it seemed highly improbable to be real, but there’s a reason why the Niten-Iehi of musashi was famous throughout the land.

he flicked the blood off his swords before resheating them.  he didn’t even bother looking at his fallen foes, certain that all of them were dead.  turning back, israel began to walk away.

the papayas were left lying in the street, bloodied.

and on his left leg, a slash.  with the green trace of poison telling of its fatal pronouncements.

Chapter 3

evening. at the house of his master.

israel was standing at the porch, looking at the stars when the slave girl sumi told him that mushashi was summoning him. taking a long breath, he paused before going inside the house.

“i have heard about your fight.” said musashi.  israel did not speak.  old as he was, musashi did not shrink against using deadly force against enemies, in fact, he was all for them. why allow an enemy to grow stronger and come back to haunt you, afterall?

“and i have also heard from sumi of the pants that you made her wash earlier in the day. the pants you wore to the market. pants with a slash on the left leg…” israel still didn’t speak. he bowed his head and waited.

“tell me, israel… has the spira clan stopped using poison in their weapons? i do not see your strength waning from the injury.”

“master… i…”

“it has healed, hasn’t it? even before you reached my house, your wound has healed.  not even the dreaded poisons of the spira can slow you down.”

israel looked up to the gentle eyes of his master.  mushasi is famous as a ferocious fighter, but kindness also resides in the man.

“for 17 years, you have been in my house. not once have you been sick.  your injuries heal even before the sun sets, and you have not aged a day… most men would be ecstatic with such a gift from the gods… tell me, israel… why is your heart so heavy? days would pass before you speak, and although no one can fault you from your dedication to your craft, i see no joy in you as you go through the days…”

israel breathed.

“i do not know who i am.”

“i do not know why my dreams contain visions of places and things that are not of this time.”

“i do not know why my body heals as it does, or why time hasn’t aged my body as it should.”

“i do not know why i’m here… and i am tired.”

“i am tired of killing foes that could not possibly destroy me. i am tired of not knowing where to go, or what to do.”

“i am tired.”

“i am yearning for something… and i don’t even know what it is.”

musashi waited. this has been the longest speech israel has muttered in almost a year.  he has known this man for 17 years, but he has spoken the truth — israel doesn’t even know himself.

“do you know why you are still unable to beat me, friend?” musashi asked. smiling at his student, he continued.  “your skills, certainly, are at par with mine… and your body is infinitely better. and yet, never have you been able to defeat me… would you want to know why?”

unsure of where the discussion was going, israel remained silent.

“it’s because of your heart, it is not at peace with itself.  your sword has become an extension of your arm, but your heart remains a separate part of you. never will you attain the highest of your abilities if your heart’s not in it.”

“i’m afraid that is beyond me, master.”

“oh no… nothing is beyond a person… especially you.” said musashi.  “then what am i to do?” said israel.

musashi stared at his student.  for 17 years, he has trained, slept, eaten, fought, and laughed together with this man.  there is no other person to whom he would trust his back, save for israel. his skills are unbelievable, his potential… immeasurable. and he knows exactly what to do with him.

“you need further training” said musashi. and even before israel could challenge him, he continued. “not of your sword skills, although they’d hone you with that also, but you need to train your spirit. you need to quiet it, to teach it to rise above these planes to attain the peace that you need. and i know just the place.”

“tomorrow, you will leave.”

“what?!?” for all the years he has known his teacher, israel was not expecting this.

“i will give you a map of a school in china located thousands of steps above the plains. i have once battled one of their initiates, and even i was impressed with their skill. i am excited to think of how much more powerful their masters are.”

“you will go to this place, and you will learn what you can. you will live as they live, you will learn what they know. and you will not see me again.”

“i have taught you everything i know, old friend. you need to move on. this place is not your home. we both know that.”

“and this school above a thousand steps will be my home?” challenged israel.

“no… but it’s a step closer.”

then, like the first time they met, musashi moved closer to israel, held israel’s face with his still-powerful hands, stared at israel’s eyes, and waited.

“i will miss you, old friend. but it’s time for you to go.”

Chapter 4

dawn came, and israel began to walk away from the house he lived in for the past 17 years. sumi cooked him some rice cakes, and musashi gave him his own wakisashi. he needs to find his own sword, said musashi… but the backup sword, the one he could use because he was trained in the two-sword technique, would remind him of his first master.

bearing a map that his master gave him, israel began the long journey towards his destination.

the mountains of wudan.

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