Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

interlude four ∞ daughters-in-training

Quinober (Month Five), Anno 6660

TWELVE-YEAR-OLD MIC LEPANTRA WAMBA ENTERED her personal dojo dressed in full aikido gear, a white top and wide-legged black bottom. She bowed at the tatami mat first and walked barefooted to the center of its traditional weave. Then she turned to the picture of Shihan Morihei Ueshiba and bowed in respect.

From the left rack, she selected a Wakizashi with a sheath decorated with ornate ceremonial script. With the katana sword in her right hand, she bowed again and then tucked it through her black obi belt, her left hand holding it slightly slanted. Focusing on her breath, she let all her thoughts vanish like clouds in a blue sky. Then she spent a few minutes in intense concentration before her left thumb pushed the oval hand-guard.

Her right hand snatched the katana with a single fluid motion into a slashing arc at neck level. Faster and faster she moved. The sword blurred, slicing the air with precise cuts, pushes, and slashes, her body exhibiting graceful power, her eyes fierce determination.

The final downward slash froze over the floor, and Mic remained fixed in place with slow power breaths, until her heartbeat returned to normal.

She returned the sword and had just selected the heaviest spear on the wall rack when Amaltea's plump frame appeared beside the sliding door. As usual when in the dojo, the vessel's intrinsic intelligence wore a kimono, her everlasting bun sporting traditional bamboo hairpins.

"Mic Wamba, you have a visitor."

For an instant Mic froze, incredulity fighting the conviction that Amaltea never joked. "An unscheduled visitor? Really?" Then it struck her, but the weight of the yari kept her from bouncing on her heels in delight. "Oh! It's a surprise visit from Rinah."

"Rinah will arrive later. This is a special visit."

"Who's that?" Furrowing her brow, Mic replaced the spear and turned to her virtual caregiver. "How come you didn't give me advanced warning?"

"Remember your language, Mic Wamba." Amaltea's voice was soothing. "You are now a Daughter-in-training."

"My apologies, Amaltea. Who is it?"

"It is Oyama-san. He is here for your Qigong lessons. He never teaches remotely. His few and select disciples have to travel to learn from him in person. He refuses to teach otherwise. He made an exception in this case and acceded to come here. It is indeed an honor."

Now Mic remembered. The possibility had been discussed a few weeks ago, after her Medolescenthood Ceremony. But she never received confirmation. Excited, she adjusted her ponytail, stepped forward, and faced the door. "Well then, keep him not waiting. Please allow him entry."

Amaltea vanished as the door slid aside and a short, middle-aged man entered. Mic bowed deeply while appraising him. She had expected a gruff and muscular mountain of a man based on his impressive reputation and legendary accomplishments. Though retired from the martial arena, he had yet to be bested in combat.

This individual did not match her expectations.

"Welcome, Oyama-san," she said, keeping her face open and relaxed. "Please accept my gratitude for your kindness in coming here. I deeply appreciate the honor."

The Sensei bowed in response. "Actually, the honor is all mine." Then he smiled. "Are you ready?"

Mic blinked, slightly disconcerted. "Aye, I am ready. May I ask, how we should proceed?"