A Beginning
Before the Clan War…
The temple was loud with raucous laughter. Sake flowed freely into dozens of cups. Stories were shared over haggled bets, and songs sung to the beat of taiko drums. How else would the Mantis celebrate the birth of one of their own? Stories, true and not, but bold nonetheless, filled the temple.
“One time, it was just me against two Lions. See, the Crane had our contract and-”
“-I ever tell you about Yugoro? Man, that was crazy.”
At the center of the room, seated amidst a growing crowd of onlookers, was Yohitoru and his wife, Mikaze. Clutched in Mikaze’s delicate arms was a newborn child, a boy she doted on even as drunken Mantis made clumsy introductions. Yotasu was a giant of a man, ill-fitting yukata doing nothing to hide the patchwork of scars that crossed his body. Despite his appearance, he laughed and drank with his guests, casting a prideful glance down at his son.
The temple doors swung wide, banging open as a man in green armor walked in. He stood for a moment, lit by the light of the moon. His peculiar kabuto, with antenna like a mantis’, and snarling mempo covered his face. He wore armor, even here at the celebration of a new birth. He strode boldly into the room as talk quieted down. The assembled guests knelt and prostrated before their lord, the man known only as Yoritomo. He strode wordlessly to Yotasu and Mikaze, his every footstep heavy.
Yoritomo, son of Yoshitsune, nephew to Yotasu, and Champion of the Mantis looked down at the child in Mikaze’s arms. Yotasu stood, the only man in the room who would dare. Yotasu’s graying hair framed a serious face, a salt-and-pepper mustache accentuating the frown that creased his mouth. The two men said nothing for a while, until Yotasu finally spoke.
“Would you take off that ridiculous helmet? This is a party!”
Suddenly smiling, the proud father embraced Yoritomo, clutching him strongly in massive arms and lifting him off his feet. “You’ve always been too serious, nephew.” Yotasu laughed, a loud and booming sound, as he set Yoritomo down.
Yoritomo’s arms moved slowly as he removed his helmet, his scarred face broken with an uncommon smile. “The whole island has been wondering when you’d finally get around to having an heir, uncle.” The lord of the Mantis knelt down, his long black hair cascading around his face and shoulders, as he looked at the small baby in Mikaze’s arms. Mikaze bowed slowly to her nephew and lord. Yoritomo held out a hand, calloused from years of fighting, and placed it on the baby’s head. “When we’re all gone, it will be up to you little one. The future of the Mantis will rest on your shoulders one day.”
“There you go again!” Yotasu proclaimed, his smile wide as he offered a cup of sake to Yoritomo. The lord of the Mantis accepted, but the bold Yotasu would not stop. “Always the future with you. The great plans and the grand dreams… hah! Your father was the same way. Not for me or mine, that kind of thinking.” Yoritomo looked up to Yotasu, his uncle’s red face and watery eyes betraying the older man’s inebriation. “Destiny’s not for us, nephew. What is it anyway?” Yotasu sat down, drinking deeply of a bottle of Friendly Traveler sake. “You can’t hold destiny in your hands. You can’t see it, or smell it, or taste it. You can't pay for things with destiny. Destiny doesn't carry you across the sea, or put food in your family's bellies. Let those other clans worry about their destinies.” Yotasu looked down to his son, a father’s pride shining in his eyes. “You are the master of your fate. You are the captain of your soul.”
