Tatsu had not expected his birthday to unfold like this. Hours spent searching through the dense forest for Akane had yielded nothing. Her trail had vanished, swallowed by the shadows of the trees. Her parting words lingered in the air, haunting him.
"Adapt to what?" he had whispered into the silence.
"You'll know," she had replied, her voice fading as she disappeared into the night.
By the time Tatsu returned to their hut, the first light of dawn had already broken over the horizon. The village was bathed in molten gold, the sky a canvas of warm hues. But he barely noticed the beauty. The ache of her absence clung to the air like a heavy fog, a reminder that something was missing.
Yet, as the first rays touched the earth, a sense of clarity began to settle within him. Akane had always told him: Do whatever it takes to survive. That was her lesson, her parting gift to him. And now, he would.
The herbs sitting on the shelf would do little. Akane had taught him that true healing required more than just the right ingredients—it required a transformation, a delicate balance between life and death. Tatsu's sharp gaze swept over the dim room until it landed on a jar in the corner.
It was sealed with intricate knots and talismans, the faint shimmer of crimson liquid visible through the glass. Tatsu's breath caught. This wasn't ordinary blood. This was the essence of a Zasshu, a creature of power that had been harvested at great cost. Akane had guarded it fiercely, using it only for the most prestigious of the wild-kin who came to her for healing. It was a resource few could ever dream of obtaining, let alone using.
Tatsu hesitated, her words echoing in his mind: Adapt. Survive.
He cleared the firepit and etched a trigram into the soot-streaked stone. With a steady hand, he gripped his battered dagger and made a small cut in his palm, letting the blood drip onto the center of the symbol. The crimson drops sizzled as they touched the stone, and Tatsu whispered the incantation he had learned from Akane.
"By the pact of blood and spark,
Vital fire, tear the dark.
Burn with life, renew the mark."
The flames that burst to life were not the expected crimson. They were green. Tatsu's breath hitched, and his face twitched in shock. First the strange shift in his eyes, now this. His mind raced, but he pushed the thoughts aside. There was no time for distractions. Akane wasn't here to explain, and the ritual demanded his focus.
The flame danced in the air, its emerald glow demanding control. It was a fire of vitality, one that would help him craft the healing potion. It was the lesson Akane had left him: fire was life, and life was the key to restoring what had been lost.
Tatsu placed the cauldron over the fire and carefully removed the seals from the jar. As the seal broke, the sharp tang of blood filled the room. He poured a small amount into the cauldron, watching it bubble and turn a deep crimson hue.
From the pouch Akane had left behind, he retrieved a fine, pale powder—Kapuchin flower and Silver Grass. These rare herbs grew only in the deadly mountain soils fertilized by Zasshu corpses. Akane had ventured into such dangerous places to gather them. How, he couldn't begin to understand. The thought of her in danger tightened his chest.
He added the herbs to the cauldron, the potion glowing brighter with each passing moment. Finally, he whispered the last incantation:
"By blood and root, by essence and earth,
Weave the threads of life anew.
What was broken, now restored.
What was lost, now reborn."
The air thickened with unseen energy, the room charged with the power of the potion as it reached its completion. Tatsu opened his eyes, his body trembling from the effort. Carefully, he poured the potion into two vials, sealing them tightly before placing them into a small pouch that he tied around his waist.
Outside, the village square was alive with energy. Fledglings gathered, their faces a mixture of excitement and fear. They wore mismatched leather armor and carried iron weapons—luxuries few in the village could afford.
Tatsu ignored their mocking glances, the quiet sneers directed at his battered dagger. He focused instead on the top contenders.
Riku stood among them, his confidence as sharp as his posture. Renji, plump and muscular, lacked the sharpness of mind but made up for it in sheer strength. Riena, always crafty, clung to the strongest for protection. Sora, the pessimist, grumbled about the doomed nature of their quest. Aba, with sharp, calculating eyes, watched everyone like they were pieces on a chessboard. Mina, ever indifferent, stretched lazily, her muscles rippling despite her calm demeanor. Keisuke tall, masculine and composed.
And the Zenraku those who had already awakened their totems, had intricate tattoos marking them as the elite.
Kaida's crimson tiger stripes pulsed with energy, her fiery hair blazing like a beacon. Jin, golden wings unfurled behind him, his spear glimmering in the light. Gorou, a massive man with cracked-earth tattoos, looked as if he could crush anything that stood in his path. Shiori, shadowy and silent, her black thorn-like tattoos spoke of her lethal nature. Raizo, with silver hair crackling with static, wore a smirk that was as dangerous as the lightning he commanded. All of them awakened their abilities in the previous totem shuryo, five years ago.
The crowd stilled as the Elder descended. His great owl-like wings unfurled, casting long shadows over the fledglings. His white tattoos glowed faintly, and though his blind eyes were sightless, his presence was all-encompassing.
"Fledglings," he rasped, his voice soft but carrying the weight of a thousand years, "the Totem Shuryo awaits. Mark the ground with the blood of your hunt. Place the gifts of the forest at the trigram's points. Let your soul awaken."
The Elder tossed a handful of bones into the air. They spun, glowing with ancient runes before settling into a map on the ground.
"The Kenshi Forest awaits you," he said, his voice carrying over the assembled crowd. "A realm of shadows, secrets, and truths hidden in its depths. Do you seek to uncover them? Or will you falter before the hunt even begins?"
As the rain began to fall, the fledglings surged toward the forest. Their voices echoed through the trees, mixing with the sound of the storm. Tatsu lingered at the edge of the square, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon.
This wasn't just a hunt.
It was the beginning of something far greater.