The Sword and Her Past

Sahanah was on the trail of a Hidden who was taking no time to hide himself. She was getting close to finding him. She could smell the sweat of the man and the oils of the weapons as he sold his guns, short swords and Katanas. He knew she was coming as well. He sent the last of his customers out just as she walked in. He disappeared into the back as she looked around at his collection. She figured, if she were here, might as well grab a new weapon. No one would miss it since the owner would be dead. Her gun was great for open areas, but realized some time ago she needed something for enclosed areas, just like the shop she entered.

The shop itself was small. Enough to fit ten customers in the common area and three workers behind the show cases. In the show cases ranged handguns from small to large along with their ammo as well as a select view of pocket knives. The walls were decorated with larger, more intricate and exaggerated knives, guns of all sorts, swords and Katanas. She could feel the power in some. They were the ones crafted by the mystical hands of Hidden.

It just so happened that she felt a connection with these weapons, and shifted their size and forms for only her. A gun would stay a gun, but she could change the type of gun it became. As far as she knew no other Hunter could use these weapons but her parents excuse was because they trained her to bear them. Yet, when others asked, she was told to lie about the power.

Today though, there was one weapon that called to her. It was a long-bladed Katana. She moved behind the counter and passed the other knives that whispered to her. All the weapons spoke her Hidden name. One she would not recognize. She stood in front of the Katana, holding her hand just above the sheath, ready to grab it. To make it hers. It whispered to her, both the names she had inherited. Her Hunter's name. And her Hidden name. She was confused. Why has every weapon called to her by another name, a name that she did not know belonged to her? It was not the first time armaments called her by the unknown name, but for this weapon to call to both names. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the Katana, and unsheathed it.

The sheath was icy cold to her hot sweaty hands. It contrasted with the hot air around her. She had not even realized she was nervous. Something about the man and the Katana had unsettled her. The handle and hilt fit into her hand so well, she was surprised. As if it was made just for her. The blade was jet black, which indicated it was made from pure titanium. The sheath was made of Azurite and Rubies. The design was of the Chinese celestial dragon by the use of the precious stones and silver. The hilt was of the same blue and red hue fabric as the stones. She could tell by the intricate design it dated from the late 1800s to the early 1900s, when old copper mines were revisited.

Her mind quickly tracked the target just in case he had tried to escape. She knew the target was in the back, sitting or standing, but found he was doing nothing, not moving. She concentrated on the Katana again.

She caught the reflection of her bronze eyes hinting ocean colored depths blackened by the blade when she noticed some handwriting near the hilt of the handle flowing down the center. The blade had a name inscribed into it on both sides. She couldn't read the handwriting because it was in another language. One she needed help to decipher. She ignored the writing and swung the Katana to measure the balance. Like slicing through butter. Not too heavy. Not too light. The balance is perfect. She still could not shake the idea that it was made for her so many years ago when she wasn't even conceived.

She shook her head as if to rid her mind of the hindering thoughts. She had a job to do and he was not retreating like most others. She would not pass up the chance of an easy fight. She took the Katana and its sheath and traveled to the back of the store. To the left, there sat the old man in a lawn chair next to a table in the corner. Now that she got a good look at him, she noticed he was not as Asian as she thought but German and he used to be quite tall, but his rounded back and shoulders kept him from his full height. His hair was nearly as white as snow with hints of gray. His eyes were so gray they turned blue in the center by his pupils. His skin showed age but not in wrinkles as most. No, his had a leathery look to it. The room itself looked like a break room. The wall opposite of the man was no more than six or seven paces away. There was a counter with a small television and microwave and a mini refrigerator on the opposite wall. All the walls were an eggshell white and in the alternate corner of the man was the bathroom.

"I am glad you were able to find what was yours. I had this Katana for over the last 700 years. Ever since he was made, I had him in my possession. For a very long time it spoke one name. Then that changed 23 years ago. I could not figure out why it would speak two names, but it had. Once I heard about the prodigy Hunter and her name, everything started to fit. Except for why. I mean I am sure you were young when they found you, but it is still curious. Why would they keep you alive? I could not find the answers. It has never happened before in all my years. Though it was I, of all of the Hidden, who has lived three times as long as any other to see who this Katana would go to: a powerful Hidden who could change the underworld of Hidden and Hunter alike."

Sahanah was confused. She heard his words yet none of them made sense. Was he just rambling on because of how old he was? How old was he? And the Katana I carry was made for me over 700 years years ago? And what is this about it going to a powerful Hidden? Why only 23 years? I am only 25 so how could it be me it belongs to? Why does this guy keep calling the sword a 'he' as if it were alive? There were so many questions that ran through her head and none she could answer. She tried to compose herself but something must have slipped because his expression softened.

"It is well to be confused. I did just drop quite an amount of new information on you. Much of which you would never have found out from anyone other than me. There is much to tell you...."

She tried to concentrate. She had a job to kill this man no matter the age or information he had. She shook her head again, took her fighting stance, all her weight on the back foot, front foot light as a feather and bent as if to strike upwards into a kick. She spoke. "Enough talking old man. If you are as old as you say you are, then I'm sure you're tired of living here on this pitiful planet. I'll help in your removal." He saw her weight shift from the back leg to the front when he held his hand up as if to stop her. The action almost set her off balance.

"I know you are impatient to get on with your day but there is very important information you need to know before it is too late. If you will not listen to my story then you must find Teiran. Teiran Hartsgn. He will help you. Just do not try to attack him or you shall regret it. Since you are like most youth, without patience, we may as well get this over with now that I know the true owner of this magnificent Katana." He emphasized the 'not' when referring to attacking Teiran and when he finished speaking he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. He was going to willingly give his life to her.

She had no more time to waste. She didn't think about the consequences of him sacrificing his life to another person; hers in particular. Though she later found the significance of him giving it to her alone. She stood up from her fighting stance, walked over to his left side, and raised her Katana. "Thank you" was all she could muster as she severed his head. Sahanah bagged the head as evidence of a finished job, dropped it off with her parents and headed to the one place she found sanctuary away from home, confused about her existence more than she had ever been her whole life.