The Price of Honor
As a stream flows about an obstacle, so too must I.
No one would ever describe Takezo as ‘beautiful.’ Benten did not offer a blessing unto Takezo as a babe, and if there is any Scorpion blood within his family one could not tell by looking at him. With his hair black as Lord Moon’s house with no one home and skin the faintly brown hue of a well-cooked dumpling, Takezo is often not described at all – He does not catch the eye, nor is he so plain to look upon that people look past him unconciously.
Neither is he particularly heavily muscled; there are many younger men who show a much more fully muscled frame than he does.
What Takezo is, however, is grace. To him was gifted both the gentle grace of a flowing brook, and the furious grace of an avalanche. His movements are not flawless -Far from it, for even in a brook a stone can deflect the flow and change it’s harmony. A flat spot upon a mountainside might cause the avalanche to slow, or even stop. Such is the grace of this scion of Mirumoto. His simplest actions seem to be guided with a determination that causes him to seem wiser than he is, and yet it takes so little time – Each action an eternity within the Void, yet hardly moments within the world of blood and lies.
It is not for him to wear the finest kimonos, bedecked with fanciful renderings of dragonscale, nor to bear a daisho of the most flawless craftsmanship. Even in a Clan renowned for oddities, there are those who are unique by virtue of how ‘normal’ they appear, and here is where Takezo is found – Neither too lean, nor too large, too weak nor too powerful.
Within him, it seems, lies the skill, power and luck to never lose the center that so many strive to hold.
Where many seem already to be legends writ large in the stars, Takezo is a fresh shipment of the tamahagane – Though a form not unpleasing, this sacred metal is clearly unfinished and full of potential, rather than having it’s destiny already forged.