Kevin's Watch

From the first, the shin-te had met death with sorrow, remembering nothing except his loss. Now, however, there was another light in his gaze. Strictures shaped the corners of his eyes, the lines of his mouth. A sensation of anger emanated from him.

"The nerishi-qa," he pronounced softly, "teach a false Art."

Isla rounded on him. "How so?"

"Legend teaches,: I put in, "that nerishi-qa is the first and most potent of the Fatal Arts. All others drive from it."

The young man shook his head. There was no doubt in him. "It is false.

"You have called it 'the Art of the Killing Stroke,' yet there is no killing stroke." The strength of his conviction shone from him. "The nerishi-qa claim for themselves the power and the right to determine death. But he who determines death also determines life, and that they cannot do. Life belongs to the one who holds it. It cannot be taken away. Therefore no killing stroke exists. There is only choice."

In my urgency, I had no patience for such mystical vapor. And Isla felt as I did, apparently. Nearly together, we objected, "We saw you die."

Direct as a fist, she added, "That champion nailed you to the floor with a spear."

"Did you choose that?" I demanded.

Uncomfortably, he answered, "I do not remember."

A moment later, however, he shouldered the burden of his beliefs. "Yes. I did."

Then his earlier sorrow returned to his gaze--a bereavement shaded by shame. "You say that I was ignorant. I did not know him for nerishi-qa."

I accepted his assumption. I feared to weaken him with doubt. But Isla did not.

"Or you knew," she countered, "and that's why you chose to die. You knew you couldn't defeat him." Mashu-te to the core, she accepted the risk of what was in her heart. "You surrendered to despair."

Anxiously I watched the young man for his response.

"I do not remember," he repeated. "Perhaps I did." The flinch had returned to his eyes, although he did not look away. "If so, I do not deserve to be named among the shin-te."

Avatar wrote:Something just occurred to me. The Nerishi-qa didn't strike and change his mind at the end...he struck to test the honesty of the Shin-te's claim.

He turned the blow when he saw that the Shin-te truly meant to take it...that he believed utterly in what he said.

--A

He nodded gravely. "I believed that I would die." Then he added, "But that was a small matter. I was already beaten. Yet when you spoke my own words to me--one of the mashu-te a student of the Direct Fist--I heard them in a new way. They became"-- he rolled his smiling gaze at the ceiling--"how shall I say it? They became simple. Despair is the killing stroke. There is no other." Lightly he shrugged. "My hazard was no greater than yours."

Avatar wrote:But how is that any different from there being no killing stroke?

The whole thing about despair never triumphing is as obviously untrue as their being no killing stroke.

Despair triumphs all the time. People die and are killed no matter how much they try.

If one is sophistry, why is the other?

--A

Avatar wrote:Oh damn right it's because of the world. I love the world. The best part of all fiction is the world building for me.

Avatar wrote:But back to the theme...really, all of life is sophistry of some sort. Choice, even meaningless choice, is essential to our sense of self perhaps.