The sun rose the next morning sending out rays of an orangey red across the borders of Restamkuri. The rays of brightened every crack on the road, every rugged granite cliff, every patch of grass. Restamkuri was a rich country in parts of the country, there was more green in some areas then dozens of rainforest bunched up together and in some areas there would be as green as a sand stricken desert.
Takeru, the white spot that could be seen in the monotony of green rainforest, was holding a beaten wooden stick in the shape of a katana. Standing with the sword held low beneath his waist. His black and white kosode ( a traditional Japanese kimono.) was worn loosely. Takeru was practicing his sword techniques on a tree. He had beaten that same tree every day with the same old wooden sword until his arms got sore.
It got harder every day as he got more accustomed to striking at the tree. The more he got accustomed the longer he could attack the tree. Nowadays Takeru could attack for atleast an hour without his arms getting tired or heavy.
Takeru waited, he stood, his sword below his waste, his eyes focused and locked onto the tree, he waited for the wind to past, his black hair still blowing across his face, he knew as soon as his hair dropped he would start striking. The wind blew for another two seconds before it died down, in a split second, Takeru dashed forward at the tree, his sword was swung back behind him in a flash, he slashed at the tree from the right and stepped back and back in and slashed from the left. He repeated the two steps for a while and then threw in an overhead slash and a sweep at the feet.
He continued to strike at the tree for another hour before he dropped to his knees and gasped for breath. He shut his eyes and laid back, his mind was clouded with ways to improve his technique, he had never been in a sword fight before but he knew it was a lot harder.
Takeru went home for breakfast. He had to walk back another league before he reached the village. Takeru grew up in a village with bandits and trouble makers. There would be a fight almost everyday. He tried to avoid them as much as he could. They usually fought until someone dies, on rare occasions they would call a truce.
Takeru was soon at the gate, his wooden sword held on his shoulders as he walked through the gate. Guards stood on both sides of the gates. They dressed in light padded armour, they wore mask that covered their mouth and their noses. They both had swords rested on their shoulders.
As Takeru walked through the door the guards nodded, it was a daily routine for him to go out and practice. Takeru smiled back in reply.
“How was your morning practice?” asked one of the guards
“Good, but I feel as if I hit a brick wall, I haven’t been able to improve lately, I guess I need to grow and climb over this wall before I can get any better.” Takeru said scratching his temples.
“Alright off with you then, go have your breakfast.” Laughed the other guard
Takeru grinned and walked through the gate, not bothering to look at the familiar houses left and right. He took a right turn into a street alley.
hope you enjoyed it, the first chapter is rather boring to what i have planned. please give me som rep for my work lol.