Warlock's Wanders

Chapter I

The traveller sat on the stone and watched the young man walk down the long garden path towards him. As he approached, it became more and more apparent that he was dressed in a snow-white cotton gi girded with an azure belt. He carried a short sword on the left side of his belt, completely unsheathed, unusual for a fighter, if he was one. He had long, dark-brown hair that fell below his shoulders and tossed lightly in the breeze, creating a kind of aureole around his head as he walked. The man stepped with a composed, self-confident, and powerful strut. This brought attention to something else, though — his legwear. It was something that didn't fit his apparent style at all, which was a pair of blue design trainers. The traveller did not really know what trainers were, being that he never quite travelled far beyond the Rice Fields, but even he knew that this item of clothing was unfitting here. Either way, the young man seemed to come straight from the castle where the rice farmer headed initially, so he must've been a monk.

Said monk came closer and closer to the riceworker and a slightly displeased look drew over his face. He was swarthy and had thick eyebrows that conveyed seriousness with his every action. His habit of squinting slightly made an impression that of scorn and disdain at whoever he encountered. Then, once he was a few yards' way from the newcomer, the monk spoke in a low voice.

"Why'd you have to cut down the poor ol' tree over there?" he said, pointing in the direction where the traveller came from.

"Ah, but forgive me, oh monk, I could not find another way through to this island!" the man responded as he grabbed his staff and raised to his feet.

"Well, you could've gone to one of the flying islands. You know, smaller ones that move like lifts between the larger ones?"

"Pardon me, oh dear monk, I've never been to this Realm before!"

"I could tell. You're from Realm 0, right?"

"Oh, yes, the Rice Fields, of course. I am Tsujii Masashi and I come with a humble request."

The monk turned around and beckoned to the rice enthusiast to follow as he ambled along the tiled path.

"My name is Yongsheng wei Jianyu," he continued the conversation, "but you can call me Yongsheng for simplicity's sake. You Ricefielders find the pronunciation hard."

"... Hey, Yongsheng?" the traveller replied in remembrance. "You mean the Yongsheng, the Warlock from Heaven Island?"

"What bloody..?" his current companion replied. Yongsheng looked at Tsujii in confusion for a moment, before sneering. "That's a bit grand, isn't it? D'you come up with that yourself?"

"I heard stories of a man, his robes all ivory, who'd visited our Realm to save our people from the vicious monsters of the groves. He was a true warrior of unmatched fighting skills. He was a true sorcerer, who'd conjure otherworldly forces with his bare hands to aid him in his battles..."

"So you call me a warlock?" the monk chuckled audibly this time. "I mean... Thanks, but I don't think chromosomes are witchcraft. We all do it here: we pray, we practice martial arts and we study Chromic magic. Everyone can do it, really, I'm not some kind of special—"

Tsujii tapped his staff against the stone underneath his feet. His long moustache moved apart, making room for his widening smile.

"Dear Yongsheng, I promise we mean no harm. We all revere you, and only you for what you've done for us; countless Rice Men have come before seeking solace and help all across the Old Omniverse, and you were the only one that didn't shun a single comer."

"Anyway," Yongsheng cut him off, "what brought you here on this otherwise lovely day, friend Tsujii? What's your 'humble request'?"

"Hm, I like your forthrightness," Masashi scratched his beard thoughtfully. "We have a salamandraka infestation in our village."