“Sword and soul must be one. The fear of death must not possess your soul or you will not be able to strike with your sword. This is the way of a warrior’s heart,” said the master.
The warrior had been training with his master in the swamps. The months prior, they have been in the mountains learning the way of the snake. With the way of the snake, the master taught the importance of being able to turn swiftly and quickly. Such movements could be used in the mountains or areas where there is a wide area of movement. In the swamps, the master told him that he had to move with a heavy foot.
“Every strike matters. Every single one of your movements is weighed heavy by the swamp. In these environments remember that you are a warrior of the sun. As such, your strikes carry meaning. It is important to remember your own strength to win in the swamp,” his master told him with each blow he delivered to the pupil’s neck with a wooden sword.
To fight in the swamp is the worst possible scenario for any warrior. The air is filled with the scent of death. The ground sucks you into its base. The light fails to cut through the dying tree branches. The shadows that lurk could be that of the enemy, the shadows could be of the large lizards that live in the swamps or it could be the shadow of yourself. In the swamp, a warrior’s true fighting spirit is tested.
After one heavy blow from the master, the warrior felt a lightness overcome his head. He stumbled over and landed face-first into the mushy grass beneath him. He couldn’t gather the strength to get up. His master had his foot on his neck. He felt his breath blocked by the grass. He felt his heart beating faster, giving his lungs more strength to seek more air. He saw the face of Death. Seeing the suffocating warrior, Death smiled.
The master lifted his foot off the neck of the warrior. For a few moments, the warrior remained still. Suddenly, as if hit by a lightning bolt, the warrior bolted up to his feet. His kimono soaked in the swampy water, his sword covered with the grass and moss of the swamp, he fell to his knees. His master looked at him. He knew that his pupil had just seen the face of Death. His master smiled.
“Now, you are fearless. You have mastered the art of life. In your soul, your sword is sharpened with the acceptance that Death can come to you anytime. Your soul is ready to face life for what it is. Your sword has become your soul. Remember, the blade of your sword should be unscathed only when to fight. Fight for your purpose, fight to protect your life. Never use your sword for anything else. Or else, Death will win.” His master said to his pupil.
His master concealed his wooden sword and left the warrior. The warrior still on his knees, thought about his master’s words. In the swamps, in the pits of his greatest challenge, he found the meaning of his sword. His ability to fight to live.
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