The wind blew calmly through the fields of Kamoha farms, slowly brushing the tall golden brown heads of wheat.
Harvest was in season. The warmth from the evening sun kissed everything insight in the large farm.
At the center of the farm, two stood motionless. Both clad in similar clothing of long white samurai robes, a straw hat and sandals.
They stood facing each other with stern looks in their eyes.
In one hand of each was a katana blade shining gloriously as the rays of the evening sun danced off of them.
One of the two was older, he wore his grey hairs and wrinkles on his face with pride and his eyes gave off a calm warm feeling.
He was a warrior once and years of teaching the way of the sword had not dulled his mastery any bit.
His opponent was once his student, Ryonan, the banished prince, as he was called by students of the dojo. Indeed he looked like a prince, with his fair spotless skin, soft pink lips and jet sleek black hair. He had a lean muscular build that his robes didn't do justice of hiding.
He wasn't just called a prince because of his looks. His skill was unrivaled at the dojo, none could contend with him. He was born into the sword and the sword had become him. But he betrayed the dojo, he betrayed their teachings, he betrayed the sword but most of all he betrayed his Sensei, Yuji.
The banished prince was a befitting name. He took off his straw hat, throwing it to the golden grass. His teacher did the same.
"I felt this day would come" Yuji said solemnly. He had sadness in his eyes. "Fate is cruel," Ryonan said brandishing his sword as he took a fighting stance, "and yours is to die by my hand...old man"
The old man stared at his former student, "Age might have taken its toll, but with battles I've seen.." he paused and raised his sword over his head, "you will never be a match for me"
Ryonan laughed loudly, "we shall see, demon of the West"
The wind suddenly came to halt as if setting the stage for the two warriors. The whole farmland was eerily quiet, only the slow breathing of the two warriors could be heard.
The silence did not last a moment longer, for once the wind picked up, the clash began.
Sparks flew. Blades cut into the air.
Ryonan side stepped to dodge an attack and swung his katana forward.
His attack cut into empty air.
Yuji advanced forward with a strike aimed at his chest. A loud clang rang in the air and the battle continued.
Their blades were fast and moved as an extension of themselves.
The banished prince's skill was apparent and so was his master. With each strike blocked, each advance halted and each attack missed, the truth of their equality in skill became evident.
The winner of this battle would be the one who could fight for longer, possessing more stamina than the other.
They continued their dance even as the sun began to set, their white robes that once flowed smoothly with every movement were now drenched in sweat.
Ryonan lunged forward once again, he could not let there be a moment of pause. He was younger and therefore was more fit than the old warrior. He could not let him catch his breath.
As he narrowly dodged an attack aimed at his head he smiled. Victory was within his grasp, he just had to tire out his Sensei, the man who had taught him everything he knew, every kata and every bow.
With each exchange, small glimpses of the past flashed through Ryonan's mind. The peaceful good times, when his hunger for learning was insatiable and his smiles were warm.
All until his disgraceful exit. His smile faded from his face quickly and his once joyful eyes that held admiration, now stared at his teacher with cold resentment and calculating murderous intent.
The sensei might have been stronger once but times had changed.
Yuji was aware of his appalling disadvantage. The more the fight dragged on, the less his chances of winning would be. He staggered a few times between attacks and dodged some by a hairs breadth.
The prince was young and full of energy to spare. But Yuji was something he wasn't, a master.
He had not earned his nickname for nothing. He had the innate ability to peer into almost any battle style and instantly gain some insight into its fundamentals. It was why after retiring from his warrior days, building a sword school and imparting teaching came naturally.
The very style that Ryonan attacked him with was the one he taught.
Ryonan had mastered it to the highest level, but if he had stayed longer he would have learned an important part of the technique. It's one and only flaw that only the creator knew.
So as the prince swung his katana sideways, Yuji moved forward with grace and precision, catching the blade with his. Sparks flew as the master's blade slid off the former student and came to rest in his chest.
For a moment, the image of a warrior left Yuji's eyes and all he saw was the young boy who once stumbled through his first kata, laughing under the morning sun with the other students.
Then the blood came, and the boy was no more.
Ryonan's eyes went wide with fear. His sword dropped off his hands and fell to the earth. He fell into his master's arms and hugged him tightly. He gripped his robes, not wanting to let go.
Sorrow filled his eyes, and tears rolled down his cheeks. He brought his pale face to his master's ear and breathed his last words "Thank You"
And with that the fight was over. The body finally let go off the victor. Yuji pulled his blade out of it's chest and let the body drop to lie in the grass.
He stood in silence, with his sword out and looked to the sky, watching as the white clouds slowly climbed through the skies, some casting shadows across the blood soaked battlefield.
The katana shook lightly in his old hands. His chest rose and fell quickly with each breath he took.
His white robes were now stained with blood, so we're his hands and his silver blade.
He gripped the handle of sword tightly ignoring the pain it brought him. After a while, he sighed deeply and began to clean the blood off his blade. Each movement familiar, but felt hollow, as if something was lost.
Placing the sword back in its sheath, he glanced one more time at the body of his student he had murdered.
Ryonan's lifeless eyes stared back at him, empty as darkness.
The wind flowed through the land once again, carrying the faint scent of wheat and blood.
The master bent down to pick up his straw hat and began making his way out of the farmland.