My former life was one not too different from this one, but at the same time nothing was exactly the same.
I was born into a family of samurai priests and priestesses devoted to the ancestors. We lived high in the mountains above, secluded from the rest of the Empire, only visited rarely, even by other members of the rest of our clan.
To those that do not understand, it would be a quiet place. Silent as the dead, and only interrupted by the sound of occasional prayers or the sound of bells.
Even the inhabitants of the village, all family, were the quiet and mystical sort, without much interest in the things other than their spiritual work.
But that was only one side of the coin.
To those that know, and to those that understand, those mountains were loud, for they echoed with the voices of our ancestors. We have the ability to talk with the dead and to the spirits of other realms. Imagine talking to those who have gained their place in heaven, or those who still wait for judgement.
We are the spiritual advisers for out clan, but we are not monks. We are samurai.
The gods of everything around us hold a different place in our hearts. They are not what we admire, nor do we act to gain their acceptance, or attempt to follow a path they lay. The elemental gods have no ambition, nor do they care for our etiquette or culture. Our ancestors are different, as such, the reverence we show them is beyond that ever shown to an elemental god.
As we may speak to the ancestors we attend many weddings... births... coming of age rituals and burials. We give them the honor of being under the direct gaze of their ancestors. Many members of our families spend their entire lives speaking to the spirits in other realms and fulfill the spiritual duties given to our family...
But whenever winter comes by, the rest of our family returns from the battlefield.
They are the same as everyone else, but different.
Some merely act as doctors empowered by strong healing magic, while others go to the front lines with water magic focused on strength and speed. Some even assist in command and tactics.
I always looked up to them, for when they arrived at the village it was as though a fresh blast of water washed away the still waters of our village.
Their eyes had a burning passion beneath the surface of their calm golden that was unlike the serene gazes of those that stay here all year.
I admired them.
---*---
In school I spent every bit of effort in becoming a priestess that could go to the front line of the battlefield.
I wanted to shine in the light as they did.
I was a naive kid.
War tastes sweet until you've experienced it.
If not for the handful of brave samurai protecting me I would have died in my first skirmish. The older priests and priestesses on the battlefield make it look easy... but since the main strategy of our armies is to charge in so fast the enemy cannot react, and hit so hard they go down fast, you need a lion's heart to do that charge properly... if you hesitate... you die...
Though, our Clan's soldiers are terrifying. Their charge is like a tsunami, and as they hit their opponents tremble in fear.
You'd be surprised how well this works.
Fear is a terrifying force.
I've seen many well trained men go down in a moment of hesitance, because their opponent just cut directly through the man in front of them.
---*---
It wasn't until after that first skirmish I began to mature properly into the woman I became. When those around me run their voices merge and melt into a choir, and then it is as if their hearts become one. There is no fear, only the unity of their voices... of their voices and the voices of the ancestors that watch over them. In the moment they charge they are not themselves, they are a part of clan, and a part of history... and they know that every life that ends is a life given to protect the Art of Peace.
I watched their golden colors overlap with the sun from heaven, and it was a sight I could never forget... for it was more brilliant than the light I had seen in the eyes of my family.
I fell in love with our clan, and with the battlefield.
With the voices of our soldiers, and those of our ancestors.
I want to hear their cheers, I want to see the golden shine of their victory.
So I dedicated myself to that.
I studied strategy, tactics and investigation so that none would outwit me on the battlefield. I studied medicine so that even when I had no more prayers to cast I would not let their lives run out. I studied the art of the sword and the art of the empty hand so that I could protect everything that had been gained and so that I could stand on my own two legs. I even studied the art of words and etiquette so that I would not humiliate myself in court.
I did well...
And during this, he was always by my side...
Kenta... we had walked towards the light together, sought victory and glory together...
---*---
Our Clan leader had ordered the attack of a fortress, on the border to another clan. They'd taken it, by turning their pretty eyes at the emperor, and battered their lashes at him, until he agreed to give it to them... but that fortress was ours! A fortress we had won with the blood and sweat of our ancestors!
Needless to say we were going to take it back by force... but... things... went wrong... we'd been fed false information... Our clan leader was bold and brash, and in a rage he extended too far... rushing inside the fortress ahead of everyone else... so you can imagine our horror when the gate closed behind him and the enemy troops got between us... They killed him... and our desperate attempts to get in only caused more casualties... for we wouldn't give up... we couldn't give up. For though he was brash, he was a much beloved leader.
By the time we finally retreated... the walls were red with blood... As a priestess unit we retreated earlier than everyone else... and it is also the only reason I survived... for the heavy gates of the fortress opened, and the blue armors of our enemies dyed the landscape blue as they hunted us down... it was a massacre...
I lost all my men that day... all except for Kenta... and both of us were mortally wounded. If I hadn't been a priestess... or if we hadn't lasted till down... we would have died...
---*---
Our new clan head was the brother of the old one... but he was a quiet man and could not compare to the former in any way. Furthermore, our army was shattered...
Instead of handing me a new post as expected of my military rank I was assigned a mission near the border I usually guarded. A scouting and information gathering mission. While I was a good investigator... it was an insult to the skills I had gathered over the years... but I know why... It was probably because I had been one of the few survivors of the massacre. I was quietly being blamed for cowardice.
Kenta who had always been by my side was assigned the role as my bodyguard during the mission... and with that we reach my end... for it was during that mission Kenta fell in love with the enemy... and I was killed...
That is the life I had... from start to end.
---*---
As I ride down towards the city my heartbeat turns to a steady drumming sound.
This body cannot see the ancestors, but I know they are watching.
They are not the ancestors of Rei's Clan, nor her family...
But I am sure they are watching.
Under their burning gazes I will charge in, with the heart of a Lion.