The road way was smoothed out by the constant use of carts and horses, with the ground having become a yellowish pale color from the repeated use and adding of other material to make it better for rainy travel. Despite pledging his loyalty to Lord Nerva, He had been ordered elsewhere, to keep an eye out for other signs of incursion. It was strange, but he was thankful for this chance. He was not strong enough to serve at Nervas side yet. He would do what he must and travel to the land of Oak in Western Fiore. He began to walk away, the new cloths he had bought to replace the ones he had before were fresh and felt good on his skin, though he still had his fathers Kimono, it no longer was in tatters. He felt more like himself again, how he had before he had left home.

But as he walked, it was all to easy to see that he wasn’t home. The trees of his home country would never be something he would see again. He would never grace his feet with the soil of Joya. His heart began to sink as he walked and made his way toward his destination. The Great Katana his Lord Nerva had given to him fit neatly into the Wooden Sheath he carried at his waist, he wasn’t surprised, as his fathers sword was a Great Katana after all. Fujaku was humble to have been given such a weapon to act as his show of faith between Lord Nerva and himself. He ran his hand over the Shark Skin hilt, feeling the roughness of it that allowed a Samurai to grip it properly even if their hand was soaked with blood.

‘Perhaps one day you will have a name of your own… something for the whole world to know you by.’ He said to himself as he walked, gently playing with the hilt as he did so. He had a new appreciation for the sensation of feeling, seeing as he no long had his left arm to feel anything. A wound he would wear with both Shame and Pride for the rest of his days. Maybe one day he would be strong enough to do the same to others as what Nerva had done to him.

As he walked, and approached the border of Orchidia, Fujaku stopped once more and turned back. Looking in the direction of the others, they were headed toward Astera, She was headed to Astera. His thoughts turned to the young woman he had met during the Demon Incursion. She had called herself Judina, Yet he had been stubborn and not returned the kindness of telling her his name, as he had already said his name before hand. He bit his lip, feeling a blush of self-anger grow on his face. What a stupid way to react. She had been one of the first people to reach his side after Lord Nerva… he paused and touched the place where his arm had been, where it had been cleanly cut from his body so as to not even leave a stump. She had helped him fight against the Demon they had encountered, and even when she was facing her own impending anxieties, she helped him walk, as he had found himself to terrified by the gateways appearance to move.

What had he done for her? He had told her that we would win the day. Yes they did win the day, but when he said it he meant that they wouldn’t let anything get out of the gateway, and in that regard, they failed. The beast that came from that gateway terrified Fujaku to his very core. He had never known fear so strong until that day, and twice he had frozen because of it. If she had gotten hurt, or killed because he had frozen up… he wasn’t honestly sure how he would handle it. She was…. Important to him. For their short time together, they had formed a bond of some kind. At least he had with her.

When they had first encountered the Demon, and she knew how to attack to most effectively utilize Fujakus own initial attack was something else. But not only that, her magic was… amazing. The blades she forged were sharp and from the way she swung them around like a dancer as light as a bamboo sword. She was strong and confident in battle, and willing to take risks just like him to ensure victory. But she was also caring and sweet. She bandaged him up, carried him, she was kind.

He turned to fully face the eastern direction. As he drew out his sword and placed the tip into the ground, placing his hand on the hilts pommel. He made a personal vow, to himself, to the heavens, to the demons, and to all things that would listen to his voice.

“Hear me, All Things Great and Small.” He didn’t yell, he didn’t scream. He spoke in his native tongue, knowing that the words he spoke did not matter, for the intention of the vow would make itself known to all things. “My name is Fujaku Nijiiro, Heir to the Head of the Nijiiro Household, and Last of its Line. From this day forward, I claim Judina as being under my protection. All harm done to her, I will return 100 Fold back to those responsible. As Keeper of the Bloodlaw, I declare this so!” He waited a moment, and pulled his sword from the ground, sheathed it and continued his journey, his head held high.

But unknown to the young man, as he called upon the Old Rite of his Clan, his shadow began to grow and twist, 2 dark glowing red eyes appeared as the shadow settled into a new form, its arms and fingers moving over Fujakus body, who was unaware. They came to rest above his heart, above the fresh marking of the inquisition on his chest. The darkness in the Shadow , slowly, unnoticeably, before fading away as Fujaku finished his Vow and he began his journey toward the Land of Oaks.