The Nagai Road

He walked quietly down the road, moving towards the fork in the highways, his eyes and ears attuned to danger. The man had two katanas and a jingasa, and for now was chewing on a piece of straw...

The swoosh of his blade would chip the end of it, but hemp was one of the stronger growing fibers in existence, used to make many products here in Kiyonai. It'd take a few whacks to sever the strong, living strands that comprised the plant's stem, even with a razor sharp sword. Doing so would rustle the plant, causing it to smell much stronger.
Nobody would be around to intercept him this day. Fortunately however, the farmer had many more plants, and this was not his most prized.

As Seo walked with @ketsueki , the pair would quickly find the well-kept road that was known to wind its way through the rice fields of the Kiyonai Province, turned to a slightly rougher path cut through dense forest as far north as they were. Seo and Ketsueki had had an amiable conversation at the Tea House, and it seemed Ketsueki was willing to remain in the monk’s company for the time being as he traveled towards his next destination; a temple in the north of Kiyonai.

After a short break in the conversation, Seo spoke as the two of them meandered down the path.

“If you will forgive my curiosity, Ketsueki-san, why did you give the proprietor of the Tea House a different name than you told me upon our meeting?” Seo’s words were quiet, and seemed to hold genuine curiosity. Perhaps more curiosity than would be healthy for a monk.

The quaint little scene of the pair walking down a forest path conversing with one-another would have a perfect backdrop in the forest, other than the dark clouds that appeared to be ominously gathering in the sky.

Seo nodded with a smile as Ketsueki talked.

“I cannot profess myself an expert on such establishments, for obvious reasons, but I am sure there are quite a few men in such places that would be a little shifty-eyed. As for the proprietor - Xiong I believe the man said his name was – no one can know what is in a man’s heart.” Seo paused for a short moment, then added,

“But I do concede he seemed a bit strange at first, standing wordlessly next to our table until we addressed him.”

The monk would seem unwilling to make mention of the obvious hole in Ketsueki’s explanation of her giving Xiong a different name; what exactly she was protecting, and how it would be damaged by the owner of a random brothel knowing her name. Bringing it up so shortly after meeting the woman would be rude, Seo thought to himself.

“So Ketsueki, please do tell me a little about yourself? What do you busy yourself with when you are not walking through the forest with a monk?” As always, Seo’s words were calm and warm.

A smile would come to the monk’s lips as Ketsueki took a moment to construct a delicately worded answer to what seemed like a painfully standard ‘getting to know you’ type of question. Seo was well aware that things were almost never as they seem at first glance, and with Ketsueki this seemed to hold particularly true. At any rate, he found himself enjoying the company of the young woman.

“The life of a monk in the monastery I come from is very much regimented, as I imagine it is in most orders. A monk rises at the same time each morning before the sun, and spends a short time seeing to their personal needs before making the journey to the shrine. For us that meant a rather steep climb, often times carrying water for cleaning hands and other rituals. Once there we chant and pray, offering our thanks for the day and all we have been so graciously provided.

After the journey back to the monastery, we have breakfast and normally observe silence until each monk is dismissed for their training, studying, or meditation - as the case may be for each individual. Then later in the day of course there is the evening meal to prepare, the grounds to keep and maintain, and a call to worship before going back to the shrine once more.

Sadly this life at the monastery is what ultimately dissuades most monks from pursuing their call to their purpose, as a great deal of the time the monotony of it all wears on them.”

Seo’s last statement about the monotony wearing on the monk seemed a bit too knowing for it not to have also been wearing on him as well.

Seo nodded, “Dull, even at the best of times.” He confirmed Ketsueki’s assessment of what he had just told the woman.

The monk looked as though he was going to elaborate further, but was interrupted by a roll of thunder. Seo turned his head up to the sky. In the time they had been talking, the gathering clouds had formed a rather foreboding blanket overhead. He felt the first few drops of rain find their way through the trees and on to his face.

“I believe we are going to have to find cover of some sort very soon.” He said, taking a look around. “Surely we’re not so far from civilization that no one has some kind of shelter.”

Seo looked in the direction Ketsueki was pointing, and almost on cue the sky opened up and began to pour rain. The shrine was small, and far enough off the road that the monk had missed it entirely on his cursory look around.

“That’ll do!” Seo exclaimed as he began to run for the shelter, of course seeing that Ketsueki was close behind.

The monk moved quickly the short distance to the shrine, dodging the various trees and shrubbery of the forest as he ran, but of course he could not move fast enough to avoid the rain completely. By the time Seo made it to the small shrine, his robe top was wet and noticeably heavier.

The shrine held a small statue of a minor deity or spirit Seo did not readily recognize, but he was relieved their followers had erected the shrine here in any case. The statue seemed to be of a human-like deity, holding a large pan in its lap that in turn held a small stack of wood, and the makings of a fire.

Now under the protection of the shrine’s roof, Seo looked to Ketsueki as the rain poured down from the clouds.

“The spirits provide.” He said with a smile.

It had been rather unlucky that the two had gotten caught out in the rain, but immediately they had been provided with shelter and even the makings of a fire to warm and dry themselves with.

The monk got to his knees in front of the statue, obviously intending to give thanks for the shrine’s protection; both spiritually and physically.

Seo, kneeling in front of the statue, bowed low until his forehead touched the cold slab of stone the entire monument and its structure sat upon. The monk raised himself back up, and gently placed his palms together in front of him. He smiled as he heard Ketsueki's words.

"Fellow believers." he said, his voice quiet as usual, but as he closed his eyes, and the rain began to pick up, he was forced to speak a little louder. "We take refuge in this shrine, and in doing so take refuge in the goodness of others. We seek enlightenment, and to practice the generosity we have been shown. We seek freedom from attachment and desire, and be content in ourselves. Finally we seek wisdom, with which we will pursue the betterment of ourselves and all people."

With his prayer completed, Seo moved from a kneeling to a cross-legged position on the stone floor. He looked over at Ketsueki, and then down just slightly.

"I feel as though I should apologize." he said, showing a tiny bit of sheepishness. "Sometimes with me, the line between simple conversation and prayer can become blurred. I imagine you'd be willing to believe its a common habit amongst people with my chosen profession."

Seo looked up at the face of the stone deity in front of him. "There are days that the only conversing we do is prayer. They become one in the same at times. Do you have much use for prayer Ketsueki? If I may ask."

Somewhere along the road

The warm earth beneath the dune walkers feet reminded him of home... The sun's gentle kiss on his bronzed skin warmed his heart on this lazy day.

The bronzed man walked down the country road at what most would consider a brisk pace, his long legs hacking away at the distance. But the man showed little sign of effort. The casual way he carried his spear across the back of his neck, with his arms resting on either side.

He towered over the native folk, standing a good head and half taller than most... Though his skin and size were not the most striking thing about the Outlander...

Nor was it his clothing, many said it reminded them of the monks in the mountains, save for the sleeveless arms and cream color.

It was what was on the man's skin that drew the most attention... He was covered in tattoos... Or so they seemed until one took a closer look... They were scares... Markings carved into the man's flesh. These were the Tah'nish... these were his life.

" Such a day... " The man mused openly, his deep voice buzzed with happiness. " Another pleasant dream mother has given me... I am unworthy." He said , his firm lips thinned in a wide smile as he shook his head. All mother worked in strange ways...