A discarded sword

Rinan sat down with his breakfast and set to eat. Eggs, beef, two oranges, and glass of water. Just as his master had taught him.

It had been many years since Rinan's master had passed away. He had been left behind to take charge of the abandoned house and possessions. A lifetime's worth of collected trinkets, documents, and records of transacted funds, goods, and knowledge. Rinan had been the man's only apprentice, but he had spent most of his time learning to self-discipline and the basics of how to grow in both physical and mental strength.

To this day, he continued to follow his master's teachings. He spent most of his time meditating or exercising, honing his mind and body into one, cohesive unit. "One's spirit is the acclimation of his being," his master had always taught him. "A strong spirit can only be achieved by attaining balance in all parts. Only with strength of spirit will you be able to learn the true nature of my lessons."

And so Rinan continued to train. Only in the last year had he been able to feel these results. He couldn't fully explain it, but as he had grown stronger, more able to focus and block out distractions, he could feel something deep inside him begin to grow. It was as though a light had begun to shine inside of his chest, and as he continued to train, it burned brighter. But he had not been able to learn the lessons his master would have taught him on what to do with this light, and so he had begun to find himself at a lost, despite the progress he had made.

He had spent a fair number of months searching through the texts that had been left behind for any clues he could find on how to proceed. He collected many small pieces of wisdom scattered amongst the vast wealth of books, and overtime he assembled them together, using his memory of his master to guide him on how they should be arranged.

In a field behind the house, his master had been buried, and his sword struck into the ground, the blade pointed at his heart. Rinan, having finished breakfast, went to that sword as he often did, and kneeled before it to remember the man he had looked up to. But on this day, he noticed something strange.

On the hilt of the sword sat a small, yellow bird, who seemed quite content on his selected perch. Rinan approached and knelt before the sword, expecting the bird to flee in fright, but instead it remained, eyeing him curiously as it tilted its head back and forth. "Why have you selected this place, little one," Rinan asked, "to be your perch? There are many trees here which I would imagine would be far more suitable to you." The bird only trilled happily at him in response. Carefully Rinan reached out and ran his fingers over the bird's head feathers, soliciting another trill in response.

Rinan smiled to himself. "Master would have said a creature such as you would be a sign," he said, half to himself. Almost as if in response, the bird took flight for a brief moment, so as to make a new perch on his shoulder. Rinan stood up carefully so as not to disturb it, then looked down on the sword, thinking. Plants had long since begun to climb up its length, and would soon overtake it. "Perhaps," he thought aloud, "It is time I take you up."

He gripped the handle and slowly pulled the sword from the ground. Though it had been firmly planted, in Rinan's hands it came loose freely. The blade had been exposed to the weather for a long time, and was not heavily rusted and dulled. Rinan ran his finger along the edge, finding it rough and unusable for much of anything. Still, it had been his master's sword, and something had brought him to remove it from its grave.

He looked to the bird on his shoulder, how tweeted happily at him, as if proud of what the two had done together. Rinan couldn't help but smile. "I think I shall call you Shi," he told the bird, "after my master." Shi trilled and took flight, making circles above Rinan's head before landing back down on the other shoulder.

Rinan laughed. "Come on, Shi," he said, turning back to the house. "It's about time I get to my training."