All hail the prince!

She drifted into consciousness. And then back out. The world was a blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of her thoughts, as though they were being blown about viciously by a hurricane. Waking up, her voice was groggy "What time is it..." she said uncovering her eyes from underneath the covers, she heard the gentle tapping of raindrops against her bedroom window. These were her favorite kind of days were she didn't have to feel so bad about not leaving the house. She got up and rubbed her knuckles onto her eyes/ Seeing the drops trickle down the window brought a sense of calmness within her. This was the time she could be alone and be herself

It was still early when the clouds gave of their rain to the grass and trees, when the road became alive with more splashes than her eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as a mother's soulful hum.

She felt each splash that touched her skin, watched as her become a deeper, more rocky hue. It was as if earlier the street had been a matt photograph, only to be washed as glossy as paper.

Despite the urge to sit back and enjoy the soothing sounds it was time for work. Putting on her clothing she waved at the neighbors, some waved back while others were doing their own business. Understandable at best, after all the rain isn't going to stop anyone from making a living these days.

The sound of the smiths, beating swords and breastplates into shape, was the consistent and dull pounding that let one know the town is alive. And her blacksmith shop was no exception either, opening the doors of her business she smiled welcoming anyone who were looking for wares.

The armour on display was shiny, as if it were straight out the forge. If there were places that were rusted she'd throw it away and make some adjustments to reduce those mistakes.

The girl would be in the back room of the shop. Sitting down on a chair with a hammer and anvil on the side. Wrapping an apron around her person she'd get to business. Getting a piece of wrought iron she could get the idea of what kind of steel its based on the sparks produced.

So she decided to use high carbon steel since it'll produce sparks that seperate off into several branches.

In order to start forging, she needed it to the proper size and shape. So cutting the back end off of the piece, since the end of the spring tapered was more then she wanted. Cutting the other side prior to the hole in the steel.

Since she had the correct length, all she had to do was cut the back end for the tang. Using a cutting torch to cut the sides off. Making it about 5 inches long. At this point, the piece was about two feet long, four inches wide, and less then half an inch thick.

The proportions of the leaf spring are quite different from her desired blade stye, The blade was too wide and not long enough. To start she had the witdth of the piece. All done by hand the mass of the steel needed a power hammer.

So she heated the whole sction with a gas forge to a yellow heat. She carefully applied blows consistently along the piece with a hammer.

Yoriko could feel her body heat up with every proloung minute in this area, it felt like she was in a oven. After several heats, it started to reduce in width, and increase in length and thickness. During this part, the sides of the steel began to thicken up more in the middle. Noticing this error, she started hammering it on the flat side of the blade.


"Man. I need a breather. she said leaving the area to step outside a bit to take a quick break and drink some water. All that smithing takes a lot out of anyone, funny how all this hammering made her upper body more defined. Not like a body-builder but toned.

After a few minutes she returned, the process was like tug-of-war a lot of back and forth. Thankfully with these hand-tools the likelihood of messing up was drastically reduced. The overall goal was to stretch out the blade by compressing the width and decreasing the thickness that resulted.

Switching over to a pneumatic hammer, she wanted the blade to be more refined. Hitting both sides flattening the blade to make it more like a sword. After examining the proper width, length, and thickness squaring up the piece as a whole. Making the sides parallel, matching the curves of the tip, and achieve the uniform thickness of the blade.

Now all she needed to do was grinding..

She began marking out what she wanted the blade to look like. Of course the steel needs to be thick enough as well as the blade to even make the sword. Using an angle grinder to make the shape exactly leaving a bit of excess material and finishing up with the grinding.

Next was the cross section, thinking about it she wondered what grind would be perfect for this weapon, Sure the concave grind is sharpest but its overall edge is weak, flat grinders are much easier but duller, and convex are both dull and doesn't cut.

After that the cooling process of the sword and was completed.
Next, the cross-guard has many functions. The first to prevent them from sliding down your own blade into your hand. Without this, a blade will cling, clash, and slice. The other crucial part is to stop one's own hand from sliding up into the blade, unlikely but possible.

Just like with the pommel, she could use bronze,steel, etc. Sure any design would be cool, like a dragon but she hasn’t received a request like that before. Maybe a square pommel would be good for now.
Considering the progress she made it’d be best to use the same material. So using the piece she poured into the mould if she did bronze it’d crumble and crack in vital points on the sword. Looking back at her first few attempts it resulted in failures; a somber look lasted a few seconds before shaking her head.

This was important, a few minutes later she had a large enough piece and made some holes in it for the tang to go through, and cleaned it.

It had to be sized so that it laid flat. With a proper slot in the piece, she set a bar through it. With the tang whole/line she was able to make the sides parallel. After that was done, she put the bar to the grinder to clean the piece. Attaching it to the sword by soldering it with pure lead solder and flux. Trying to fill the gaps.

”Almost finished.”
Next was the wooden handle. The handle needed a hole for the tang to go through. The dril makes a straight whole for the tang, and makes less material needs to be burned. Then a mock tang is built to burn a similar size, but smaller. After it's clean, any excess space will be filled with epoxy.

Finally after everything was finished she wrapped it around the handle and marked the spot on the top and bottom of the wood of the leather. Making a marks and cutting them.

For stitching first it needs to be punched, which makes holes and a few decorative options, as leather is very tough. Prior to that, the spots need to be marked. The best way to I found to do this is to use a fork to press down to make the mark. This continues on the prior mark, and allows for consistent marks. The marks would be about an eighth of an inch from the sides.

Punching the holes using just a punch and a hammer on a scrap piece of wood. Once done it was time for the finishing touches. Yoriko started the stitch at the top of the handle by tying it underneath. Then wrapped it wrapped it over, doing the same stitching down the entire way to the handle. Same with the bottom, having it firm in place.

”Finally done!”

She went towards the back of her shop to test its durability. Even in the rain it felt perfect; weighing the sword in her right hand, slashing it delicately at the air with a novice-like apprehension, and as she did so the reflection of the cloudy rain danced coolly within the cool steel. The handle of the sword was bound with black leather, hilt a tiny bit decorated and the blade was short.

Now that her weapon was completed she placed it on a special display for people to gander, placing it a moderate price of 1,000. Not too much and not too little, now she waited for her next customer..

Nobumori was thoroughly soaked through, and cold.  The rain had soaked through his cloth overcoat and clothing and had clung to his armour, chilling it down as if he were standing in a blizzard.

It was his Firebending that kept him going, kept his core and extremities warm despite the cold. Every so often, when the cold overtook him, and his toes and fingers grew numb, he would unleash a short breath of fire, circulating flame from his core, out his nose and mouth, and forcing heat through his body--a sign of an extremely practised Firebender.

Ever so often, as he flushed heat through his body, his robes and armour would steam as they heated up.  His clothes would go from soaking to damp, and his armour would head up and dry, sizzling the water away.

And so it would go for the neveral several kilometres as he travelled towards the nearest smith.

His horse had thrown its shoe on the ride to Nara from Yashima.  He was too far from Yashima to turn back, so he had only one choice: press onward.

Nobushige was touring the provinces at the behest of several Daimyo in the outer provinces.  The Daimyo of Echigo had bid Nobushige meet him at Yashima Military Base, to display how he had maintained order and discipline at the fortress and to ask for more funds to renovate Nara Castle for his personal use.

The Daimyo's previous request for funds, and for a renovation permit, had been denied by the Crown.  He had fallen from grace in the Imperial court, after words of his secret meetings with a few prominent Tozama Daimyo.  He had hidden this meeting from the Emperor, and lied about it later to his face.

As such, the Daimyo faced pressure from the Imperial court, where his family were being entertained as "guests" as per the laws of the land. His requests were being denied, and he feared that he was about to suffer a provincial shuffle, being sent to another, less illustrious province in the Empire.

Nobushige, always willing to intercede on behalf of the Daimyo, had been called to speak with the Emperor, Nobushige's father, on the disgraced Daimyo's behest. Nobushige knew he would have a tough time of it...he'd likely need to recruit the help of his brother Nobutada, the Crown Prince, and his sister Kenreimon, the youngest.

Nobushige sighed as he continued to walk through the pouring rain. His clothes dried a bit and his armour sizzled as he pulsed heat through his body.

The life of a Daimyo was harder than war.  War against the demons in Nippon, alongside his brother, had been easy compared to this. The boom of guns, the clash of steel, the whistling of arrows as they whizzed through the air, narrowly missing you.

Part of Nobushige missed the rush of battle.  The part that could still feel the adrenaline and the blood in his veins. The head rush.  The thrill of rushing headlong across the battlefield, a two tonne creature thundering beneath you.

The other part of him didn't. The part that woke up screaming, sweating in the middle of the night.  The part that felt the blood of his allies and subordinates splash across his face, stain his hands. Blood that would never wash away. Blood that he could never unstain from his soul.

Nobushige took another deep breath, pulsing more heat, trying to focus on his bending rather than his darker thoughts.

He thought instead of the Daimyo system of the Empire.

It had been his uncle who had implemented it, in a backwards way. His uncle, Nobuyuki, had turned on his father, Nobunaga, back when Nobunaga was still Fire Lord. He had raised a group of rebellious nobles and the Ikko-Ikki sect of warrior monks.  These nobles and the warrior monks caused Nobunaga many problems, but he was able to crush his foes, and his brother.

The Fire Lord had crushed them so absolutely, that the slaughter of these monks and their families on the mountainside of Mount Hiei. The Siege of Mount Hiei it was called...a slaughter was more apt.

Mount Hiei burned for fifteen days.  Every temple, every settlement, every tree, shrub, bush or flower, from the base to the moutain to the very peak were systematically burned.  20,000 lost their loves on that mountain. Enryaku-ji, the temple at the peak, the home temple of the Ikko-Ikki, burned last, and Nobuyuki with it. Nobunaga had burned the temple down himself with his dragon, slaughtering those who fled as the temple blazed around him.

But it was more than just an a victory.  It had been a message.

Mount Hiei was visible from the capital and many of the inner provinces of the Empire.  A majority of the Fire Nation could see the burning mountain, night and day, for days.  The smoke affected weather as far as Ember Island and the very edges of the Imperial mainland. Ash rained across the nation. It had been terrible.

No one raised an army against Nobunaga after that.

The Fire Lord then reformed the government after that, and the social heirarchy of the Fire Nation.  It became the Empire, and the provinces were governered by Daimyo.  

These Daimyo were separated into Fudai and Tozama Daimyo.  Insider and Outsider Daimyo.  Fudai Daimyo were those who had sided with the Crown during the rebellion.  The Tozama Daimyo were those who sided with Nobuyuki.

Nobunaga uprooted the nobility from their ancient lands and shuffeled them across the provinces, placing Fudai Daimyo near Tozama Daimyo and vice versa.  Old alliances were shattered and separated, and everything was uprooted and replanted.

Nobility that were not made Daimyo were reduced to retainers of the Crown or the other Daimyo.

Nobunaga's reforms went beyond just the structure of the Empire, and shook everything up, right down to the finances of these Daimyo households.

For example, Daimyo were required to maintain two households, one in the Capital where they kept their family and heir, and one in the provinces, from which they'd rule. Every spring, the Daimyo would travel in massive, showy processions, to the Capital, with giant retinues of servants and retainers. It was a encouraged to spend lavishly, to show off your prosperity to the other nobility. It was to keep the Daimyo financially occupied and burdened.

The Daimyo would remain in Capital until the start of fall, when they would return to their home provinces to rule from their only residence there.

Provinces were as such, only permitted a single castle, and defensive and siege capabilities were to be kept to a minimum. All renovations had to be approved by the state, to ensure no one created a fortress from where they could garrison an army and turn on the Crown.

The Daimyo's income came from a combination of personal business endeavours, and a income dictated by the Crown based on the size and population of the province.

Daimyo were also forbidden from raising their own armies and soldiers.  Local police forces were Imperial soldiers, loyal to the Emperor, and positioned and stationed by the Emperor, who were on temporary loan from the Crown to the local Daimyo.

If the Daimyo rebelled, the soldiers were encouraged to...put it down with extreme prejudice.

So far, the peace had held under this harsh system.

Nobushige hoped it would continue to hold, for it would be he and his siblings who would soon inherit it.

Finally, Nobushige stopped as he reached the walls of Nara.  A line formed at the gate to enter the city. Nobushige did not feel like waiting. He could easily get in by proclaiming his rank and status.  It would be difficult, as he had been forced to walk alongside his horse, and thus was covered in mud. Luckily, he kept his official documents on him for cases like this, when his status was not discernable by his looks and clothes.

It was days like this he wished he travelled with a retinue as he was supposed to.

Walking up to the disgruntled gate guard, Nobushige withdrew a wooden scroll case from his saddlebag. The case bore the crests of the Ezofuji Clan and Fujiwara Clan, and was as official as it could get.  The guard didn't even look. "Back of the line you!"

Nobushige wrinkled his nose and frowned.  "Now, now," he said calmly. "Is that any way to talk to your prince? If you would just look here." Nobushige motioned with his eyes to the scroll case.

The guard growled and snatched the scroll case from Nobushige's hand.  He unrolled it, read it over carefuly, and immediately begun fumbling for an apology.

Nobushige only laughed, forgiving the guard. No one wanted to be caught out in this rain--Nobushige could sympathize. He asked for directions to the nearest smith, and was pointed to his final destination.

Finally!  Progress!

Nobushige wandered about the city of Nara for a while before he finally found what he was looking for.  The massive fire fountain at the centre still remained as the city's heart, and was visible from where he was in the city.  It had had once bore the effigy of Ozai spitting flames, but had since been replaced by the triumphant Fire Lord Nara with his hand raised, golden flames erupting from his palm.

Finally, Nobushige had reached the smith. With a sigh of relief, he tied the horse to the hitching post outside, and entered the shop.  Muddy, wet, and dishevelled, he looked nothing like the prince he should have been.  Yet, years of war had led Nobushige to get used to looking like this.

"Excuse me?" he asked, entering the shop. "I was wondering if you could reshoe my horse?"

Of cour-holy
Looking at the person who needed new horseshoes for their steed was none other then Nobushige. She's heard many things about him, the influences, his ideologies and the

"W-w-what are you doing here? Well besides the obvious. She asked her voice quivering in fear, not because of intimidation but him asking her of all people to help in this time of need.

"Oh man your cold. Would you like some tea? I know the trip must have been long. she wanted to make sure he was well secure especially after the long ride to get over here.

But before they would partake in the tour of her his horse was the first priority. If she allowed to take the horse she'd take it to the stables to dry off first. Putting new shoes while its hooves were wet weren't going to work as well.

Yoriko would let him into her home he'd see a traditional home like anyone else complete with windows, a couch, kitchen, and many more. The fireplace wasn't lit so rather than use her fire-bending she got some leftover wood and used a kindler to set it ablaze since a she wasn't going to risk burning the house down.

Once lit the embers leaped and twirled in a firery dance, twinkling like stars in the hot swirling air.

"Excuse me. she said politely before heading back to the stables. After a few minutes she would get to work, since the horse never seen or interacted with her its probably nervous about having a random person remove her shoe.

She'd go in the back and grab the horseshoes she made, wanting to make sure her presence is known by the horse, gently patting it on the rump. Now having the horse lift its foot is usually easy ran her hand down the leg. Gently squeezing the tendon above the ankle and lift the hoof. The horse should shift its weight to its other three feet.

Holding the foot by in place by tucking her hip against the horse's hock (the large joint on the hind leg) and gaskin (the muscle above the hock). Use the inside of her knee to pull the foot out slightly and up between her legs so that the sole of the hoof faces up toward her.

Supporting the horse's toe with one of her hands. Locking the the horse's foot in place, making it difficult for the horse to kick or put its foot on the ground before she's done working.

Now was the actual removal of the shoe. First she had to, "break" (straighten) the nail clinches (the bent tips of each nail that holds the shoe on) with a clinch cutter and a hammer. Working the blade of the clinch cutter under the clinch, then hits it with a hammer to straighten the nail. Then, using a pair of metal pull-offs to loosen and remove the shoe.

Then closing the jaws of the pull-offs around the outside heel of the shoe and use an outside to center rocking motion, working towards the toe to loosen the shoe. Repeating for the inside heel and proceed in this fashion until the shoe can be pulled off.

Considering the rough weather its been through and the mud its at risk for infection so quickly. Grabbing a hoof pick remove any compacted dirt, mud, rocks, manure, etc. from the horse’s foot. Using downward strokes from heel to toe.

Now fixing the shoe since an average horse, hoof wall is shod, the dark, hard, outer layer of each hoof's sole is removed to reveal the softer, whiter material underneath in a process roughly equivalent to trimming a human's toenails. Making sure care not to cut too deep, otherwise risk hurting the horse or even rendering it useless.

The very last thing that must be done to prepare the hoof for its shoe is to ensure the bottom of the hoof is smooth, flat and level. Using a rasp to gently file any uneven spots on the bottom of the hoof, taking care, as always, not to wear hoof too short. Finally using a knife, paring away slightly to bevel the sole away from the hoof wall.

Aligning the shoe so that it sits perfectly against the edge of the hoof, then hammering the nails through the holes in the shoe to fix it to the horse's foot.

Securing the horse shoe with nails. Filing any rough spots, repeating the process for the other hooves until they were ready. However the front and back require different shaped shoes.

Finally, giving the outside of the hoof a once-over with a rasp, smoothing out any uneven spots and giving the hoof a nice clean finish. Drawing a cloth over the hoof wall removing any last bit of debris.

"Good girl. smiling praising the horse for its cooperation.

Nobushige hid a smile as the poor girl noticed who she was and fumbled over herself. It wasn't her fault. He had appeared, unannounced, at random, and alone, in the middle of a random smith's in a provincial town far from where one would expect the second born prince and Daimyo of Yamagata Province.

In fact, by all accounts, she was doing better than most, and Nobushige respected that.

Nobushige listened intently as she spoke to him. "I've come to your lovely province to speak with your Daimyo, and found myself with a horse who threw her shoe in a rainstorm. I came to the nearest town where I might find a smith, and yours came most recommended. I apologize for appearing without notice. I hope it's not too much of an inconvenience."

The girl then offered him tea. Nobushige gave a kind smile and bowed low. "I would love some tea."

Nobushige was led to the house off the main shop area. He was sat infront of the heart and a fire was lit by the smith. She was very kind to have invited him into her home, and he made sure to tell her as much. "Your hospitality is very kind. I am honoured by it."

Nobushige knelt down in front of the fire, resting on his calves and began to slowly remove his armour. He placed the armour near the fire--though not too close--and allowed the heat to soak into his body and robes. It was like a warm bath after a long day. The life of the fire breathed life into Nobushige, and he felt refreshed and renewed.

The girl disappeared, likely to tend to the horse, and so Nobushige decided to be a good house guest, as he was taught in his youth, and not pry too much into the private lives of these generous people.

Instead, he closed his eyes, still kneeling before the fire, and began to meditate. He breathed in and out, slowly filling his lungs with air before purging them once more. The air flow remained consistent, and the flames before him in the heart grew and shrank as he breathed--he hadn't tried to do it, but his breathing techniques were a touch too perfected after years in the military.

He wondered how his brother was doing, handled hordes of demons as they rushed from the northern country, Kamui, and swarmed across the south, burning, killing and destroying as they went.

Nippon was a dangerous place, and it would take a skilled general to replace Nobushige--though if the Imperial Academy was correct, his hand-chosen replacement should be more than capable of filling his shoes.

Nobushige smirked. He had left his brother with not just a replacement, but a possible future Empress. Nobushige could only hope. Nobutada could use a woman's touch in his life, and besides, anyone he could throw at his brother would be infinitely better than whatever social-climbing noble girl or second-born princess from another nation their father the Emperor could come up with.

He sat there, breathing slowly and calmly as he warmed himself by the fire. This was where the smith girl had left him, and this is where he would remain...though he had only just realized, he didn't get her name...he would need it if he was going to be asking questions about the sword in the front. It looked newly forged and quite beautiful, and he did need something to add to his collection after this trip.

After the placing a bit of food and water for the horse to consume while it waited for the prince. But mostly gonna take a rest, besides this trip was long and even the greatest of steeds require rest.

Next was the tea, heading back to her home she noticed the prince was sitting by the fireplace, warming himself up.

She went towards the kitchen and began making the tea, first by taking the kettle and filled with hot water. With 8 ounces per cup plus 6 ounces for warming the pot. Being careful how much water she put in the kettle.

After making some hot water she poured it in the teapot and allowed it to warm. Placing the leaves inside, letting it steep for a few minutes. Which is when water extracts flavor from the leaves to prepare the drink.


Taking a few taste tests every second to check the "strength" of it so to speak. Taking consideration of how much tea she put in the pot — too little and it will taste weak, too much and it will be too strong.
 
Lastly she poured the tea in cups. Not before pouring some boiling hot water into the cups, and allowing to stand for a short time. Keeping the tea hot in the cups, before serving them to the prince.

Hers, the most recommended? Well it wasn't that surprising, her smith shop was known for its prices and efficiency. Especially for someone of her.

"I appreciate those kind words. Like my parents said, treat others the way you'd like to be treated. she said taking a cup of her own sitting down. However, looking down observing her clothing it was covered in all sorts of not only the sweat from all the molding, hammering, but the rain as well.

"I never introduced myself. My name's Yoriko, its nice to have you here prince. she bowed down but not before stopping as she beading up the stairs.

"Prince..do you ever experience fear? I know we all do, but the fear of being assassinated, fear of the one you trust betraying you, or even death.

Fear is shackles, fear was a knife in the gut slowly twisted, fear is a constant hammer on the head. Yet fear also evaporates like water under an early summer sun. At least that's what she though anyway, but what did the prince think?

Nobushige's eyes shot open as he realized that the girl had returned. He smiled and turned to face her, remaing knelt by the fire. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yoriko," he said, bowing his head.

Nobushige gave a soft smile in response to Yoriko's question. He paused and thought for a moment, sipping his tea as he parsed through all the words he'd need to answer this correctly, and tactfully. Should he be honest? Or should he give the answer his father wanted him to give?

No. Nobushige needed to be his own man.

"My father would prefer I answered in the negative, I'm sure. A Prince should not show fear, let alone a seasoned veteran of many battles," said Nobushige. "But in fact, that has given me the opportunity to know fear intimately. Truthfully, I have been afraid many times in my life...fighting on the front lines and leading armies in Nippon against the demon hordes. Fear of failure, fear of leading, making mistakes. There's the fear of death and fear of your enemy."

Nobushige gave another smile.

"In truth, I suppose that's the point of the demons though," he mused. "They are meant to strike fear into people. Though, I'd say the fear of failure is the one that has stuck with me the most. Being so young, leading an army because I was put there, not because I earned it. I made sure I was worthy of the title ever second of my life there. Sometimes, all those fears...they never leave you, even after you leave the battlefield. They stick around to haunt you later."

Nobushige let out a slow, deep sigh. He breathed deeply. He could feel them gripping him earlier. Nobushige needed to push those thoughts from his head.

"Tell me," the Prince said. "How about yourself? Do you experience fear?"

In this, Nobushige was not trying to be mean, or wicked, or retaliatory. He was genuinely curious. The girl had asked him a genuine question, and part of him was morbidly curious enough to want to get a genuine answer in response.

Nobushige, as a prince, knew fear. He could only imagine what a regular citizen might constitute as fear. He was curious. He wanted to get to know the people--it was not a luxury normally afforded to one of the nobility or royalty.

Yoriko was interested on his perspective on the matter, everything he feared was common amongst others death, mistakes, and leading. The demons impacting after alleading an army of soldiers the presence of death was common, but rather then have it discourage him. It made him stronger, she couldn't explain it but the demon

The prince asked what she feared and Yoriko's expression wasn't off putting rather it wasn't a weird question to ask in response to his own answer. She was very expressive of her feelings but
What I fear? Well I would go the cliche route and say the same thing. But you're right on that regard.

However my greatest fear is abandonment. She would then sit down
her expression as her eyes was downcast as she looked at the fireplace. The fire crackling with every movement.

"There were days my brain felt electrocuted, so violently defocused and the pain, the emotional pain, was so all encompassing I simply existed as a matter of will power.

Yoriko let out a sigh, smiling at the prince. Encouragement was vividly shown. They say you come out of these things stronger, and I guess that's true, but you come out wiser too. I still have my loving heart, I am proud to say. I still have my idealism and courage.

Nobushige smiled. "I have seen good men twisted into dark shadows of their former selves. I have seen the most innocent of boys come back as grizzled as my toughest veterans after a single tour."

He sipped his tea slowly, relishing the bitter flavouring. It reminded him of the tea houses back in Heian'kyo, in Nippon. He would need to ask Yoriko for her tea merchant later--he wanted to bring some home with him.

"To go through such hardship and retain your heart and ideals? It is no small feat. No indeed, to go through such an ordeal and keep any small part of yourself as before...that's the true battle. The battle in here--" he pointed to his head and gently prodded his temple "--that is the toughest battle of all."

Another sip of tea. A wonderful bitterness. As bitter as the cold on the frozen peaks of Kamui, or the taste of blood in your mouth after falling from your horse.

"An enemy can be killed. But you cannot kill your own mind. The foes of the mind are the toughest of them all...wouldn't you say?"

Nobushige gave a sideways glance at Yoriko. He was having his fun now. She was an incredibly intelligent girl...and something in Nobushige told him that she understood a little of what he lived with. Of what he meant. Of the scars he bore inside. He truly relished the time he had with Yoriko.

Many of the daimyo clans refused to intermingle with the commoners. Surprisingly the royal house did not follow suit. Many of his siblings had taken important government jobs that required them to interact with commoners, with the every day folk that kept the armies armed, armoured and fed. Who made sure there was a homefront that could support the massive military machine that was the Empire.

It was such a large machine, and so few understood the importance of a single cog. A single piece or wheel or belt out of place and the whole machine would collapse.

If the Armourer's Guild went on strike, then who how could the Empire protect and clothe its recruits?

What about the Weaponsmasters who forged firearms and swords for the soldiers to keep them at the top of military effectiveness? Without them, they'd be reduced to merely spitting flames at armies that had evolved beyond that.

And the farmers. An army marches on its stomach, as his father always chided. Without them, the stomachs of the soldiers would be empty, and the grain reserves for the people would be empty as well.

A hungry people were an angry people. Starvation could bring down an empire as quickly as any war or financial collapse.

"I thank you, deeply, for your hospitality. You have shown me great kindness, and incredibly honesty. I do not normally see such honest because of my rank and position. It is refreshing."