The Master of Furo

The Master of Furo

  It was a warm summer evening, the last few rays of sunshine casting a faint glow over the temple of Furo. The students had all left and Master Yaruchi was preparing for dinner, when he heard a noise outside. Who would be around here now? He thought and left his private quarters to see what it was. He walked out to the sparring area, looking around but there was nothing there. It must have been my imagination, thought the old man. He turned around and made for his quarters, little did he know that his life was about to end.
  From the rooftop above, the hidden figure dropped silently to the ground behind Master Yaruchi. The assassin then drew a dagger and moved in to slice his targets throat, but Yaruchi saw a reflection from the blade. He swung round and knocked the weapon from his opponent’s hand, but was not ready for the second blade, which came up and went straight through his heart. He fell back, crying out in pain, his killer was standing over him, waiting for the light in his eyes to fade.
  “Who are you?” croaked Yaruchi, the killer took off his mask to reveal an all to familiar face. “Nunoko? But why…” Uttered Master Yaruchi, with his last dying breath.
  Nunoko turned around and saw that Ishiyuma was standing before him, with his sword in hand.
  “What did you do to Master Yaruchi!?” Ishiyuma snarled at Nunoko.
  “The old fool got what he deserved!” retorted Nunoko, “his rule over this temple was coming to an end”.
  “Master Yaruchi was an honourable man, he has taught many of the great warriors of this age and as his last student, it is my duty to seek revenge for his death! I will not let the Furo fighting style be forgotten like so many have in the past”. Ishiyuma leapt into the air, bringing his sword down on Nunoko, who only had seconds to react. Lifting his own weapon, Nunoko managed to parry his opponent’s blow and tumble backwards to avoid the follow up slash. Nunoko then rushed forward, scraping his ornate blade across the dusty stone floor, then raising it up to meet the waiting blade of his enemy. A fierce flurry of attacks followed, causing sparks to fly from the clashing of steel on steel.
  “It has been a long time since we last sparred” said Ishiyuma, “I have learned more of the legendary Furo style since then”.
  “Stop holding back then” yelled Nunoko, the older of the two warriors, in a bid to irritate the younger man and cause him to make a mistake. But Ishiyuma knew exactly what his opponent was trying to do and although he was already angry, he had been trained to use that rage to his advantage.