The Samurai's Scrolls: Beginnings by A.K. Tolentino [SAMPLE]

Prologue

        The sun, eager to rise over the mountain, stretches out its inviting warmth. Gliding over trees, flowers, and shrubbery, it finally reaches the monastery where the famed Miyamoto Musashi had once trained his students. An old monk, wrinkled by time, walks slowly toward the temple, relishing the beauty around him. Inch by inch the sun reaches for the roof as the monk looks on at the temple. The Old Monk has been feeling something astir in his being, but cannot tell what it is despite hours of meditation and reflection. Yet as the sun moves past the temple’s roof, heading upward to take its place in the morning sky, everything becomes clear to the monk. It dawns on him that the time has come to summon his successor. 

        The ceremonial rite marks an end and a beginning, which to the aging head monk is akin to the withering of a flower and the blossoming of a bud. “Such is man’s place in this world,” he murmurs, “to accept one’s responsibilities and pass them on as one’s youth has gone.

                                                        * * *

        As the dark night pervades the land, the Old Monk settles in his chamber. The Old Monk has sent a request to the newly appointed Head Monk wishing to speak to him; he means to pass on an old tradition known only to a select few in their monastery. As the Old Monk waits in his chamber, he takes out an old wooden box from a hidden compartment in the floor. The sight of it brings back an old memory, of his predecessor handing him the scrolls. “How time passes,” he thinks. A wave of memories resurfaces, giving him the feeling that time has stopped, as though his past were mingling with his present. It is as if it has been only days since he learned of the story, yet it is now his turn to hand down the scrolls. He reaches for the door and moves the panel, letting in a refreshing breeze of night air and the moon’s pale glow.

        As the newly appointed Head Monk enters the Old Monk’s chamber, the wooden box on the table immediately catches his eye. The Old Monk reveals there is one last thing to turn over to him. Puzzled, the Head Monk asks what it is. 

        “It is the story of the people behind the stories; the truth beyond the myth.” 

        The Old Monk recounts the last years of Miyamoto Musashi. When Musashi sensed his illness worsening, he retreated to a cave in the mountains of Higo fief and started writing his last book, The Book of Five Rings. Before he completed his written work containing the principles of his school, he decided to mold his final set of students. He chose four students to represent the four “rings” in his writings, with himself as the fifth. He looked at potential skills and character as his basis. He did not look far in search of his students, and found them in four wandering masterless samurai: Tanaka, Kezuke, Watanabe, and Hideyoshi. Before his passing, Musashi sent them out to find students of their own—students hungry for knowledge, in need of reason and purpose for their existence. They themselves had become masters of Musashi’s School of Two Swords; it was time they passed the ‘Way’ to the next generation of warriors. Kezuke and Watanabe found their students in several ronin, which reminded both of how they had once been before Musashi took them under his wings. Tanaka and Hideyoshi found their students in adolescents.

        “The story revolves around the students of Tanaka.” The Old Monk gestures to the chair. The Head Monk takes a seat, unable to take his eyes off the storyteller, eager to hear the story. On the center of the table is the long rectangular wooden box, as plain as any. The Old Monk soon reveals its contents; from it, he takes an object wrapped in black silk, placing it in front of him. He seats himself and unwraps the object, unveiling twelve paper handscrolls. The Old Monk gently slides it towards the center of the table, “These scrolls were written by Tanaka. Read them.” he says with a nod.

        The Head Monk reaches for the scroll in the middle. Carved on the side of its peg is Ichi, one. “Nippon, 1645. It has been several weeks since leaving Sensei Musashi…”