PreCursive
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Chapter 229 - Lord of Reeds
🕑 Added 2024-09-09 17:00:08 +0000 UTCAccording to the servant, Lord Ashiwara was only willing to give me the information that I wanted face-to-face. And only if I could present the sword that he had commissioned at the same time.
You know.
The one that I had already finished.
After the servant had bowed and scraped away from me upon delivery of his message, I immediately made a bee-line back towards my inn. Once there, I barely paid any attention to the young woman manning the welcoming desk as she bowed over it slightly in my direction. Instead, I marched my way up the stairs to my room and rifled through the pile of excess weaponry lying haphazardly in the corner until I found the require sword. I held it up to light to inspect it, in case it needed any last touches before I delivered it.
Ashiwara had commissioned a katana, like most of my customers. Seemed to be a bit of a theme here in Hinaga. But only the blade itself, without the accompanying hilt, or even any Enchanting done to it. That part, at least, I could understand. As miraculous as it was that I could work Oninite into weapons, I wasn’t versed in the Kawamaran people’s particular varieties of Enchanting. The only time I had tried to replicate some of it for a commission, that customer had gotten so offended that I think he wanted to challenge me to a duel.
I think he would have if Venix hadn’t been there at the time. The man had been suitably intimidated by my massive Antium companion, though, and had backed off after a truly impressive huffing and puffing session.
And then he'd tarred me with a reputation as a barbarously uncivilized Enchanter.
I didn’t try after that.
So Ashiwara’s commissioned blade was a merely thirty-ish inch long length of black and blue Oninite, emblazoned with my maker mark near the flat hilt section. Here in Kawamara, that was apparently a very important distinction that I had to include, as Venix had lectured me. It was styled in the form of a pictogram, representing a Spirit or animal that was particularly important to me.
Naturally, I had picked Fade.
My mark was that of a horned wolf viewed from the side, curled into a circle surrounding a single rune. In the language of the gods, that rune had a single meaning. Something that was…really more of a pun, than anything else.
Heart. The rune for the heart.
It was the little things in life, that kept you going.
Done with my inspection, I wrapped the blade in a length of oilcloth I had on a workbench and left for Ashiwara’s mansion.
I didn’t even think of waiting up for my friends, since this was the same inn we were all staying at.
I could handle this myself.
…………………………………………..
I didn’t want to handle this myself. I could have really used backup right about now.
I wasn’t in any danger or anything.
(Theoretically).
But gods, this was awkward.
I made good time to what was essentially the noble section of Hinaga. I was used to navigating these streets by now, considering how familiar I’d gotten with the area from my work. Hell, I even knew precisely where Lord Ashiwara’s manor was. Once I’d reached it, a different servant from usual had hurried me into a receiving room, leaving me with tea and the message that Lord Ashiwara would be with me soon.
They hadn’t been kidding, as only a few minutes later, ‘Lord’ Ashiwara had burst into the room enthusiastically, completely at odds with my previous interactions with the Hinagan royalty. He didn’t even bother to close the sliding door behind him.
Lord Ashiwara was…a bit of a shock.
You see, I had never actually met the man when I accepted this commission. He was apparently a very well respected, very in-demand Arist in Hinaga high society. His focus was apparently on a popular local form of theater in the country that I had yet to experience. Lord Ashiwara didn’t have the time to set commissions like his in person. Thus, the request had come in through an intermediary sent by the man.
Which was considered a bit…highly rude here. And even though I wasn’t actually Hinagan, I’d still been steeped in their crafting culture for long enough to pick up a few of their peculiarities.
Hey, I wasn’t perfect. I had my pride, and I had to maintain some level of face among the other crafters of this city.
The old bastards.
So I’d snubbed him for a few weeks, even though I’d finished the Oninite blank in like. A day.
I was…kinda wishing I’d actually taken the time to meet him first.
Lord Masayuki Ashiwara was a tall, lithe man.
Who wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Instead, he only had on what I understood were called hakama pants, colored in a bright yellow, as well as his wooden sandals. He was covered from head to toe in sweat, carrying what looked to be a battered wooden practice sword in one hand. Unlike most Kawamarans I’d met, his long, unbound hair wasn’t a shade of black or brown, instead looking to have been dyed a bright…yellow.
Not blonde.
Yellow.
Not only that, but the man was wearing full face paint. Red and black lines decorated his face, radiating out from his lips and eyes in whorls upon a flat white base. It looked to be pretty masterfully done, too. It was actually fairly striking, and reminded me quite a bit of the war paint that I’d see on Olgar back in Rhoscara. Softer, though, and not quite as angry.
It was helped along by the fact that Lord Ashiwara was beaming at me in unrestrained joy, his rich brown eyes alight in excitement.
“You must be Kuroshō!” Ashiwara veritably crowed at me, striding quickly into the room. Around his slender form, I could see a couple of exasperated servants waiting, kneeling just outside of the door frame. “I’ve so wanted to meet you!”
I froze in bafflement as the man pulled me to my feet then, astonished at his forwardness. The man set his practice sword down to place his hands on my shoulders and just looked at me for a moment. He had to noticeably look down in order to meet my gaze, as the man was quite a bit taller than I was. Frankly, I would put him somewhere in the upper six-foot range. Months ago, I probably would have squirmed under his playfully assessing gaze, but now?
I blinked at him in confusion.
Ashiwara beamed.
“Father, please,” I heard a new, exasperated voice say from the doorway. Ashiwara’s painted face affected a sheepish expression, and he let go of me to move away. When he did so, I was able to see the young man who had spoken.
I’m guessing this was the young man I had the sword for.
It was very easy to see the familial resemblance between the older and younger Lords Ashiwara. But while the elder seemed quite…eccentric, the new arrival was much more stolid. He was shorter, for one, without any of the colorful paint on his much plainer face. His hair was shorter, much like my own barely there fuzz, and his frame was quite stocky. But it was easy to see that he took his fitness quite seriously from the exposed flesh of the practice uniform he was wearing. The young man was also carrying a battered looking practice sword with him and covered in sweat, much like his Father. From what I understood, he had to be around sixteen or seventeen to be going on his first hunt soon.
I could see it.
My eyes flitted from one noble to the other for a moment. “If I’ve interrupted your practice, my lords,” I said slowly. “I can return in the morning.”
Please say yes. Ashiwara the Elder was creeping me out, from the intensity of the gaze he still had fixated on me.
“Nonsense,” Ashiwara the Elder said dismissively, dashing my hopes. “We were just about finished, weren’t we, Masahiro? Just a spot of late-night practice.”
The young man stepped inside the waiting room to stand next to Father, gracing me with an apologetic smile. “As you say, Father,” He dipped his head to the both of us briefly. “But…perhaps we didn’t need to rush here? We’re hardly presentable at the moment.”
Blinking, Ashiwara the Elder looked down at himself in puzzlement. A chagrined expression crossed his expression face. “Ah…you’re right. Please excuse us for a few more minutes, Kuroshō. We need to go and freshen up.” Before I could even speak, the Lord of the manor hurried out of the room as quickly as he had came, forgetting to take his practice blade with him. ‘Masahiro’ gave me another apologetic smile and bowed slightly before following after his Father, closing the sliding door behind him.
Leaving me alone once more.
I stood still for a moment after they had left. Eventually, I sighed and sat back down at the table, pouring myself a cup of tea from the set in the center.
Too bad this wasn’t the boozy kind.
I kinda wanted a drink after that encounter.
……………………………………………..
“I, am Lord Masayuki Ashiwara, Master of Ceremonies for His Radiance Emperor Seimei of the Kawatsuyo Dynasty,” The much more dressed Lord Ashiwara said to me, after perhaps fifteen minutes of waiting. Both the Lord of the manor and his son looked to have taken a quick bath before returning, dressed in yellow and green robes. They were sitting across from me now on the other side of the table. In between us sat a tray carrying a new pot of tea and the required cups.
As well as the still-wrapped sword blade I had come here to deliver.
I noticed that the younger Ashiwara couldn’t help but stare at it in curiosity, even as his Father introduced himself. But he snapped out of his interest long enough to smile at me in embarrassment. “Ah. And I am Masahiro Ashiwara, Heir of Clan Ashiwara. A pleasure to meet you, Sir Kuroshō.” He bowed slightly at the waist from his sitting position.
I returned it, making sure to dip my head slightly. “A pleasure to you both, my Lords,” I said smoothly, finally back on familiar grounds. “Thank you for inviting me into your lovely home. I am Nathaniel Hart, known as Kuroshō in these lands.”
Masayuki waved me off airily. “Oh, it’s not a problem, not a problem at all. Certainly not for such an interesting craftsman like yourself, Kuroshō,” He said with a wide smile on his curiously still-painted face. “I must say, you’ve been the talk of the town since your downright scandalous introduction to the higher markets.”
Scandalous? What was so scandalous about it? I’m…pretty sure I had never outright insulted anyone, nor had I set out to cause trouble.
You know.
Other than that one guy.
“It was thought that Oninite was a near-worthless metal,” Masahiro said, staring back down at the wrapped blade in renewed curiosity. “It’s not quite as powerful as materials such as Mithril or Lunar Basalt, and yet it’s so much harder to work with. I’ve heard some Swordsmiths describe it as overly stubborn and wrathful, much like its monstrous namesake. Most Grandmaster Smiths only ever work it to produce ceremonial pieces. Not the practical work that you produce, Kuroshō.”
Stubborn and wrathful, huh. I could see that. Oninite had a tendency to try and kick back with some of its stored natural Aether in the forging process. For a normal Smith, I could see how that would be a problem. But not me. I could just dissipate that Ather in the Melding process. Hell, I could use it as well. It acted as a near secondary fuel source.
“Nobody is quite sure how such a young Smith is managing it,” Masayuki interjected, the look in his eyes gaining a new, calculating glint. “Especially not when the crustiest of old fogies can’t manage quite what you can, Kuroshō. What possible forging method could you have learned on the mainland, hmm?”
I just met the man's eyes and smiled at him. “I was blessed with good teachers is all, my Lord,” I said calmly.
Silence between us, for a moment, as we very obviously took each other’s measure. The slight increase in tension in the room drew the attention of Masahiro, causing him to look up in confusion.
This man…he wasn’t quite as dim as his eccentric attitude and speech might indicate. I could tell.
Masayuki Ashiwara was as sharp as any blade. He would never have risen as high as he had if he wasn’t.
A small smile crossed his painted face, and he dipped his head in my direction with a slight smile. I gladly returned it, recognizing the acknowledgment as what it was.
Warrior to warrior.
Masayuki broke the near standoff by suddenly clapping his hands, causing his son to jump slightly. “Now!” He said loudly. “Enough with the formalities! I believe you had a reason for coming here, yes? Perhaps something to do with the offer I sent via my servant? And maybe to do with this blade, that I’ve been waiting so patiently on? Quite curious how quickly you produced it on short notice, hmm?” He said in a knowing, teasing voice.
I smirked ever so slightly, unashamed. I think we both knew what was going on, and I was glad to see that this Lord had an unexpected level of restraint and humility to recognize it as well.
I think I could grow to like Lord Masayuki Ashiwara.
“Hands move swifter with the right encouragement, my Lord,” I said smoothly. “As I’m sure you well know. If I may…?” I gestured towards the wrapped blade. At Lord Ashiwara’s nod, I picked up the wrapped blade and undid the twinc on the oilcloth, revealing it to the room. I couldn’t help a proud smile from crossing my lips at Masahiro’s hitched breath, as the light from the lanterns caused a blue shimmer to race down the black blade’s length.
Holding the blade in both hands, I presented it to the Elder Ashiwara almost ceremoniously, bowing my head slightly as I did so. He took it without a word, inspecting the blade curiously. “No tool marks at all,” Masayuki said almost wonderingly, twisting the length of Oninite back and forth. “It’s as if it was spun out of the Aether itself instead of being forged by the hands of man. I’ve only seen the like once before, and that was a gift to the Imperial line by the gods themselves. Astonishing.”
“Father, if I may?” Masahiro asked breathlessly. With a doting smile and a nod, Masayuki passed the blade to his son.
I have to say, I quite liked the look of wonder on the young man’s face as he looked down at the raw form of his new blade.
Masayuki seemed to as well, judging by the much warmer look that he was now fixing me with. “You’ve more than delivered on my commission, Kuroshō. And now it’s time for me to deliver on my payment. The requisite gold shall be delivered to your current domicile, but I don’t believe that’s what you’re most interested in, hmm?”
I dipped my head again with a small smile at the man’s teasing tone. “Lord Ashiwara is as wise as he is generous.”
Ashiwara nodded, as the smile on his face faded slightly. “I’m given to understand that you are searching for mysterious metallic doors, yes?” At my nod, the man unexpectedly sighed. “Then I can indeed help you. In my time in the Emperor's court, I have learned of one such place. What you seek lies in the shadow of one of the most dangerous areas in all of Kawamara.”
“Mt. Gorenzan.”
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Comments
Nomad
Haha of course it's in the most dangerous place.
