Passing the Torch Arc One (Volume 2)

My grandfather's story raced through my mind....

The Shira Clan's eternal thoughts rewinded in my soul. The burning yern vowed to fight to the death. I'll figure something out one day.

The wrapped sword sat quiet on my cot as my grandfather departed my house, tears running over his cheeks. There was a storm approaching, and I could feel the temperature in the air changing as I approached the weapon. As I unraveled what I thought was a skillfully crafted Samurai sword, it turned out to be nothing more than a bamboo training weapon my grandfather dubbed the Maninaro blade of the Unknown Fire Family.

The length of the blade was appropriate, but it was the grip on the sword that drew my attention. This section of the weapon seems to be what Grandpa was referring to when he stated that he had been working on forging this weapon for years.

Over time, various metals formed along the brown cascading handle. The front of the handle bears our family insignia. A tremendous earthquake rattled the walls of our temple as I began to gently put my thumb on the family crest.

As an elemental Kaiju reached our house, a massive roar erupted into the sky. My grandfather was nowhere to be seen, and the temple guards had vanished as well. "This is your chance, Anu; take the sword of Maninaro and everything you can carry and flee before this temple is destroyed."

That voice seemed to echo in my thoughts; was the blade able to communicate with me in some way? Was this its intention? Or did my thinking begin to faint as a result of my anxiety?

I got as far away from Mt. Shira as I could because the earthquakes started and ended in an odd rhythm. Lava waves erupted from the mouth of a massive Kaiju, destroying everything remained of our sacred sanctuary. The vibrations began to rip the ground, and stones began to fall from the mountains around me.

As I dashed to a nearby cave opening, I stumbled over my own steps in the ongoing shock of the earthquake and smacked my head on the gravel floor. The blade of Maninaro began to glitter in a yellowish glow, almost resembling a flame, while my eyes slowly closed from the pain of impact.

I began to nod off as the bamboo sword enveloped in flames hovered over me, shielding me from the pebbles tumbling through the cave's entrance. Awakened from a nightmare vision of my home on Mount Shira, entirely destroyed by the elemental Kaiju that ravaged our nation.

What I thought was a hallucination was certainly less imaginary than I had imagined. Grandpa's bamboo sword, which he had given me before the destruction began, was floating in the middle of the cave, with flames illuminating the edges of the sword. "Do not be alarmed; I am Lord Maro Maro, the protector of Minaro Sword."

"I have come from the domain of spirits to bring with me a skilled samurai fighter to stop the evil that is approaching your world." It had to be my head injury.

"There's no way this floating blade is talking to me." But, Lord Maro Maro, I'm only a teenager.

Despite my desire to constantly be a warrior, I've never been successful enough in combat to become a full-fledged Samurai." I waited a moment for more instructions from the spirit of the fiery bamboo sword, which was said to be from another universe, when the yellowish aura surrounding it faded and the blade dropped to the ground.

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