I heard the floor groan and split before I saw the cracks emerge. Once again, and something quite common in my father’s presence, was the urge to roll my eyes as I watched the floor open up. A clay furnace then rose from the depths like a sarcophagus on fire.
“A Tatara…? This is your idea of a suitable environment for a fight?” I asked frowning and unable to resist the urge to rub the bridge of my nose in frustration, a habit I had never had the inclination to correct.
“I thought it rather apt as I hear your skills with the Katana are quite legendary.” My father said walking to one side where two long, thin wooden boxes were waiting. I grunted at my father’s twisted logic. Yes, it had to be said that it was in this clay furnace that the combination of iron, sand and the carbon from coal made the right steel known as Tamahagane, one that was needed to make the formidable Samurai. But did it really need to act as centre piece for this momentous event? Granted that there was only one other time I had fought my father and it had also been about a woman back then…
My mother.
“Well, the last time we used Bardiche, so I thought something a little less barbaric this time, don’t you think?” I nodded briefly reminiscing back to that day and how it felt to hold that long poled axe firmly in my hand as it travelled towards my father’s head, his famous smirk wavering just before he dodged the deadly blow.
“Besides, I didn’t think you would object to such a weapon given your acquired skills in the art.”
“I had a good master.” I said, thinking back again on fond memories of blood, sweat and tears of those I was taught to defeat.
“Ah yes, how is Takeshi, still a member of your council I presume?”
“And has been since his rebirth in 1630.” I added as he flipped back the lids of the two boxes that lay situated side by side. He raised his head up and spoke his thoughts,
“You never could let go of the good ones could you…? Enlighten me, what was he called before his…”
“Grand Master, Miyamoto Musashi.” I answered, interrupting him, letting him know the depth of respect I felt for the man both back when he was human and now as he still stands at my side.
“But of course, ‘men of the waves’, one of the Ronin… pray tell me my son, how did you manage to ensnare him in your powerful clutches?” I growled at his pointless questioning of times long past. Why my father always had this maddening effect on me I couldn’t fathom but I knew it had something to do with his endless questions about my time on the central plane. Curious was too simple a word to describe my fathering blood bearer.
“He committed seppuku at my request.” At this my father smiled, just loving the dark side to any story.
“Oh such loyalty… to fall on one’s sword until disembowelment, I wonder though at their last thoughts.” He said looking thoughtful pushing up his bottom lip momentarily.
“It is part of the Samurai Bushido honour code and one he took gladly knowing what I had in store for him in his next life…now are we going to fight, old man or do you wish me to regale you of all my council’s tales of woe and how they came to be?” I said crossing my arms and leaning back on one of the wooden pillars that were spread out throughout the room.
“Now, now, Dominic there is no need to be so touchy...I brought you in here for a fight and a fight I shall indeed give you!” He finished by throwing me a sword, one he had taken from the box. I caught the sword and for a moment I was stunned at what I now beheld in my grasp.
“This…why, this is a Masamune sword.” I almost stuttered in my awe. I was not lying when I told Keira that day of my passion for collecting weapons.
“It is not only a Masamune sword but the Masamune sword.” My father said in pride causing my head to shoot up from staring at its perfection.
“Surely you jest? It can’t be the…”
“It is the one and only Honjo Masamune.” I couldn’t help but gasp, even though I suspected it the moment my skin made contact.
“So this is where it has been hiding.” My father smirked as he took his own sword and released it slowly from its encasing.
“This is where it is waiting, not hiding.” He counteracted.
“Do you know how long I have been searching for this sword?” I asked him barely concealing my irritation.
“Quite a while, I imagine.”
“You imagine right, now explain yourself!” I snapped.
“Careful Dominic, you are in my domain now and here I rule!” My comeback was a confident smile as I took in the evidence that I’d finally started to crack his armour of indifference.