Grand Voyage- Log 59

Log 59: Black Swallow Can't Cry
Knave opened his eyes. He was lying down in the center of one of the many roads that criss crossed through the village. He had apparently fallen asleep in the middle of the festivities, right where he was standing, and, judging by the people around him, he wasn’t the only one. Yawning, the young captain stood up, rubbing his eyes as well. He was a bit thirsty, and the closest house was.... the dojo place.

He opened one of the doors, looking inside. Most of the candles had been turned off, and there was almost no sound. He opened the other one and stepped inside. He looked around a bit, trying to discern where the kitchen was. Catching a glimpse of what appeared to be a sink from one of the doors, he quickly walked towards it.

As he passed yet another door, a small sound caught his attention. His ears perked, and he turned around, peeking through the nearest door.

The room inside appeared to be a large training room, with several dummies hanging from the ceiling, made of a very hard and sturdy wood. Pura stood in the middle of the room, her sword flashing through the air, delivering slashes and cuts to one of the dummies.

She paused, wiping sweat off her face, then prepared her sword again.

“What’s your reason?”

She whipped around, seeing Knave sitting down in the doorway. She scowled at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Your reason for getting stronger,” Knave replied simply.

“Why would I need one?”

“We~ll,” Knave drawled, leaning back a little bit, “people who train with that sort of effort usually have a reason.... either that or they’re an asshole determined to rule the world one day.”

Pura sighed a little bit, relaxing her shoulders. “You’re not gonna laugh?” she asked.

“Don’t think so...”

The swordswoman sat down, placing her sword on her lap. “When I was younger, I lived in a village not too far from here, close to the coast as well. It... was a happier time, I guess. My mom used to train with the sword. She owned this before me.” She lifted up her blade for the pirate captain to see. Upon closer inspection, it was pitch black, with Chinese-style dragons emerging from the guard and wrapping around the lower parts of the blade, the same black-color as the rest of the sword.

“It’s called Yamiryuu. It was supposedly forged a long time ago, with another sword. It’s always been used by a woman, and my mom was the one before me. I really...” Pura paused for a minute, composing herself, “I really looked up to her. She taught me basic swordsmanship, told me that she wanted to become one of the best in the world.”

She paused again, taking a few deep breaths. Knave waited patiently, only shifting slightly.

“A-a year ago... pirates attacked. They.... they killed everyone. No one was spared..... m-my mom.... she....” the swordswoman choked a tiny bit, “I managed to get away... my mom gave me her sword.... told me to survive... I sought out and found my uncle.... he took care of me, has taken care of me. I... I want to fulfill my mom’s dream for her. To become one of the best.”

“Oh,” Knave said simply, “I see. That makes sense.” He stood up, heading towards the kitchen again.

“You don’t have to be such a jerk to us, you know,” he said as he left, “just because some pirates are jerks doesn’t mean all of us are.”

Pura nodded slightly. “Yeah.... guess so.”

~End of Log~

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