Honor is Achieved Through Hard Work and Sacrifice

“Faster!” screams a wrinkled, reddened goblin as he stabs a spear at a young, oriental boy.

“There you go! Move those feet brickface!” The both of them are wearing traditional kendo training armor, but the weapons they wield are quite real. They spar wildly in a traditional looking dojo, which sits comfortably on the side of a mountain, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. The boy deflects blow after blow with his katana, throwing in strikes whenever he sees an opening.

“Keep it up! Don’t let me touch you! Do you want to end up a shishkabob over some ettin’s campfire!?” screams the goblin, whirling his spear wildly above him, then bringing it crashing down over the boy’s head. The boy falls, clutching his head as the pain from the blow washes over him.

“What in the nine hells was that?” grumbles the boy, removing his helmet and rubbing the top of his head gingerly. His black hair falls messily around his face, framing his almond eyes and fair skin. He is a mere 19 years of age, and looks it.

“What in the nine hells was that?” says the goblin in a mocking, singsong voice.

“Listen, twinkle toes, in a real fight your opponent isn’t going to spoon feed you, you have to anticipate every move they make! You have to be prepared for anything! Understand?” spits the goblin, taking the butt of his spear and whacking the boy upside the head.

“And don’t take  your helmet off!” Says the goblin as the boy grunts in pain again, quickly putting the helmet back on. He stands and readies his sword, a look of determination in his eyes. The duel resumes, the boy moving at almost inhuman speeds, blocking and striking at the goblin, who flips and strafes around him, striking over and over again with the spear. They dance back and forth like this, perfectly matched. The goblin is sweating, looking slightly surprised at the boy’s ferocity.

“That’s more like it! Keep it up dickbreath!” shouts the goblin, ducking under a sword strike that would have taken his head clean off. The boy begins to gain the upper hand, nearly landing a blow to the goblin’s chest, then his legs, then coming a mere inch from his masked face. Suddenly, the goblin begins to move in a completely new way, spinning like a top and leaping over the boy’s head, striking at him as he sails through the air. The boy deflects every blow, and brings his sword to strike directly at the goblin’s right arm. The goblin instinctively drops the spear, and holds out that same arm to block the blow.

A mighty clang sounds as metal meets metal, and the katana sinks into the mechanical right arm of the goblin. He looks at it, stunned, for a moment. The boy also stops, surprised at the power of his strike. The goblin seizes this moment, yanking his mechanical arm forward, which pulls the sword from the boy’s grip. The goblin sweeps the boy off his feet, and levels the stolen blade at his neck.

“Nice try, cupcake. You nearly had me for a moment there-” the goblin says, stopping short when he sees the sword. It has a chip, a half inch deep gouge where the blade met the gears and pistons of the goblin’s arm. He recoils, dropping the blade to the floor and stumbling back.

“What is it, master?” calls the boy, clearly concerned. The goblin remains silent, kneeling in front of the damaged blade and removing his helmet to reveal a bald, beet red head and long pointy ears and nose. He is ancient, at least 80 years old, but still spry and fit. The boy picks himself up and walks over to the goblin, looking curious.

“It’s no problem master, I’ll take it to the blacksmith to have it repaired.”

“I thought I would have longer, I need longer, he ain’t ready yet!” yells the goblin suddenly, bright orange flames spewing from his mouth in anger.

“Master! What the hells is wrong?” asks the boy, stepping back to avoid the blast of heat. The goblin looks at the boy, then collapses back down onto his knees, utterly fuming.

“Ass face- I mean, Hinote, I don't want this, but this is the end of your training.”

“WHAT?!” exclaims the boy, flabbergasted.

“Exactly! You’re nowhere near ready! This is an outrage!” The goblin yells angrily, ripping off his kendo vest and throwing it aside, exposing his bare, muscular chest. Hanging from his neck is a small locket, crafted from bronze and brass, in the shape of a key.

“I don’t understand, why are we stopping?” Asks Hinote concernedly.

“Because your fucking dad said so!” Yells the goblin angrily. He yanks on the necklace, snapping the chain and whips it toward the wall, where it bounces off and lands on the floor with a thud.

“Listen kid, when your mom died, your dad tasked me with taking care of you. He made me promise to train you up, get you ready for the life you have ahead of you.” Spat the goblin, still fuming.

“He said that I would train you until your sword chipped in a sparring match. He said that once that happened, that it was my time to go.” The goblin looks down at his hands, which have begun to smoke, glowing cracks beginning to spider web across his feet and non-mechanical hand.

“What’s happening?” stammers Hinote, looking fearful.

“My time is up, kid. You did so well. Can you do me a favor?” says the goblin, suddenly more calm, as the cracks spread up his arms.

“What do you need, master Bloodeyes?” says the boy, standing up at attention.

“Just call me Barbeque, drop the master shit and go pick up that locket.” says the goblin, wincing as the cracks begin to spread across his chest.

“Yes maste- Barbeque.” says the boy, running over and grabbing the locket.

“Open it kid.” says Barbeque hoarsely, the cracks reaching his neck. Hinote opens the locket, and a red glow washes over his face from within it.

“It’s the last gift your dad gave me.” The goblin says sadly, as his whole body begins to steam. Hinote removes a small glowing orb from the locket. He holds it up to look closer. It resembles a raspberry, aside from the fact that it is bright orange and glows like an ember. Barbecue struggles, then stands, smoke now pouring off of him like molten metal being plunged into a vat of water. He walks over to Hinote, then holds out his metal arm, the only part of his body not covered in glowing cracks.

“It’s a magical food from the realm of the Kami, your father left it with me the day he entrusted you to me. He told me that when your training completes, you should eat it. You’re gonna go far kid.” He says, his body beginning to crumble. Hinote looks away from the glowing berry, down at his master, who has begun to crumble to ash.

“Master!” He yells, as the goblin collapses forward, hitting the ground and fully disintegrating to ash. Hinote drops the berry, trying to catch his master, landing on his knees. The metal arm falls to the floor in front of him.

Hinote wipes a single tear from his face, then picks up the arm, along with his chipped katana, and walks to the door of the dojo. He opens it, letting a breeze into the building. The wind catches the ashes, blowing them out of the dojo and out across the mountain. After taking a moment to collect himself, Hinote walks to a small wood cabin, hiding just behind the dojo.

He silently takes off the kendo armor, changes into traditional red traveling robes, and leaves the cabin. He re-enters the dojo, where he finds the locket, berry, and goblin sized kendo gear. Respectfully, he puts the kendo gear back on its stand, and replaces the berry into the locket.

“Thank you for the gift father, but my training is incomplete. When I feel I am ready, I will eat it.” Says Hinote to himself, tying the broken string of the locket around his neck. He then turns to the altar at the front of the dojo. Upon it stands a bonsai tree, a painting of a red salamander, and a banner, upon which is written: 名誉は努力と犠牲を通して達成されます. Hinote walks to the altar and lights two sticks of incense. The smell of charcoal and sage fills the air. Hinote places the arm on the altar, then bows deeply to it.

“Thank you master, for all of the years of teaching. I bid you farewell, until our paths cross again.” He then walks out of the dojo, leaving the doors open, and sets off to the nearest town, to search for a blacksmith to repair his blade.