Free Different Paths by A. E. McCullough

Shinto shrine is a simple thing, consisting of a
small gong, some ancient relic of your ancestors and sticks of incense. The
gong was used during ceremonies to ‘awaken the ancestors’; the relic was the
object used to draw the ancestor to this realm and the incense supposedly acted
as a calming influence on the spirit. The Sensei’s relics were two objects of priceless
beauty; the twin katanas of Miyamato Mushasi.
    The Sensei was a direct descendant of Mushasi, who
was known as Kensai or Sword Saint and was the author of Go Rin No Sho, a Book
of Five Rings. He was known to have fought over sixty duels between the ages of
sixteen and thirty before retiring to a life of study and meditation. He was considered
ancient Japan’s most famous Samurai and even in the twenty-second century,
those who walked the path of Bushido still honored his accomplishments and
teachings.  
    Iaido entered the shrine to find his master
kneeling in prayer before the altar.
    Iaido had been indoctrinated in the Shinto faith
along with many other faiths; Buddhism, Hinduism, Catholicism, Muslim just to
name a few. The SPARTAN project managers reasoned that by understanding all the
faiths of possible enemies of the Coalition, their warriors would be better
prepared to defeat them.
    However of all the faiths Iaido had studied,
Shintoism held the least influence on him. Since he didn’t have any ancestors,
Iaido had a hard time following the faith’s tenets. Although he held deep
respect for those that followed the path, it was not one of his choosing.
    Before Iaido could speak, the Sensei stood up
slowly and leaned heavily on his staff before turning to his pupil. “Finally,
you come to see your old teacher.”
    Iaido bowed low. “Much has happened since my last
visit.”
    The Sensei lifted an ivory and brass scroll case
from the altar before turning back toward the garden. “Let us walk awhile.”
    Iaido studied the altar. Normally, the twin swords
of Mushasi sat in a place of honor on a rack on the altar but the upper rack
was empty. “Sensei, where is the sword?”
    “Do not worry over its fate my son. I have sent it
on to its next master.”
    “But I don’t understand. Were they not meant to
stay together?”
    Sensei’s steps were slow and measured as he moved
along the garden paths. “Together or apart, the blades are but metal. They are
beautiful and deadly works of art with a history of blood, but ultimately they
are only metal. If their destiny is to be rejoined, then it will be so. Only
time will tell.”
    Sensing that he wouldn’t get a straight answer
from his mentor, Iaido let the matter drop. “What did you want to see me about
Sensei? I was surprised to get a message from you.”
    The Sensei pointed at the trees surrounding them.
“It is good that you are here at this time, the blossoms of the cherry trees
are unusually vivid this year.”
    Taking a deep breath, Iaido vowed to once again to
get to the point of his visit but he knew that the Sensei would get to the
heart of the matter at his own pace. “Master, no disrespect intended but I am
pressed for time.”
    The Sensei ignored his student’s plea and
continued his slow pace through the garden until they reached his favorite bench
which sat beneath a wondrous cherry tree and alongside the koi pond. Sitting
himself on the bench, he pointed to the ground in front of him and gazed at the
cherry petals floating lazily to land in the pond.
    Taking another deep breath, Iaido sat down in the
lotus position and resigned himself to wait.
    Several minutes passed before the old man spoke
again.
    “Time is like the metal used to forge a blade. It
unfolds slowly and at its own pace. Any attempt to rush will be blocked by the
principles of the forge. You must keep the metal the right temperature, too hot
and the metal becomes unusable; too cool and the metal becomes brittle. You
must find your time. You know the rhythms of the blade, they are part of you
but now you must strive