Touch of Honor

Touch of Honor: Debt of the Dead - Chapter 1

     He stumbled into the room, holding his wounded shoulder. He had to drag his left leg across the wooden floor as he had lost its control to a maddening numbness. Red seeped into the floorboards after each painful step. I just need to make it to my bedside and rest a little.

     He struggled to breathe. He suspected one of his lungs may have collapsed. What an atrocious time to be injured. I will have words with father about this. He paused his pace but for a moment. Not that he would care. What does Gari gain by breaking me so?

     He groaned and winced as his expression tortured his chest. The tourney days begin tomorrow and I will not lose to her again. The white bands of Kozakoro do not lose. I've beaten her once, I can do it again.

     Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Or so he thought shortly after noticing her standing in the now open doorway behind him.

     She was a slender, beautiful woman, ten years older than him at the very least. Her dark red hair was loose and free, not as it was when in battle. Her thin blue violet eyes examined him with familiarity as she crossed her arms. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long without dropping dead. Especially after waving off the nurses. I've always known you to have a remarkable constitution."

     He could feel his cheeks grow warm just at the sight of her body, and the sound of her voice. He found himself captivated by her dominating presence. Oh how an older woman excited him. He tried to smile in his usual Spruce way, but instead he managed to spit a vial's worth of blood onto the floor where he stood. What an embarrassment I'm making of myself. This is not how the white bands behave.

     She brought her hand to her mouth as she giggled. "But you still have much to learn." She walked to him and took hold of his hands. Her voice slowed through partially parted lips. "Monastic teachings show us that there is more to ki than its uses in combat. Why do you limit yourself thus?"

     He felt his heart beat in his ears, perspiration beginning to drip down his forehead. Through his nervousness he managed to give off his usual insincere smirk, this time without sending any more blood to the floor. "Maybe it's the only thing I know." He knew he couldn't fool her. Of all the monks in all the monasteries, no one understood him like she did. Not father, not Birch, not Pine, not even mother.

     She smiled at him for a while, entrancing his eyes with the light of her own. Her lips slowly parted as she took his cheeks in her hands.

     He couldn't help but wince in arousal and short lived pain. Her hands were so very warm on his cheeks. His eyes weakened and felt a dream like euphoria fall over him. If he were to die right here and right now, he'd be happy.

     "You lack a greater understanding of ki. It is quite a lamentable trait for a monk of your stature." She moved her head closer to his.

     Her lips were so close to his own he found himself grasping for her taste.

     "Maybe you need to be taught."

     Lips entwined, as Spruce's heart danced with a whirlwind in his chest. He felt the pain from his injuries fade. Her warmth and safety spread over him, like wrapping a blanket around a child.

     If he were to die right here and right now, he'd be happy.

***

     "So Jer, what do you think of my master disciple romance?" Spruce crossed his arms in a triumphant bout as he smiled widely at his companion sitting at the opposite head of the table.

     "There's nothing to think about, as I've just found out about it at this very moment." Jeri responded, clearly annoyed at the monk's idea of banter. "It's not much of a romance if you ask me." He added, his voice coated with a tinge of jealousy.