Two years passed, and their childhood carried on hand in hand. Every day they managed, one way or another, to meet up at the same spot on the wall. For what lasted two hours, they turned into countless cherished memories. Conversations ensued about the world beyond, what little tales they were able to pick up from those that spoke of it in the streets. Particularly elder warriors who found rest from their glory days.

Between commitment to training with their respective blood-bound authority and traditional rules, they continued to further their friendship. Time spent playing at the wall a pleasant break from the normal ensembled routine. Sweat-slicked skin from relentless training dried by the cool breeze that wafted up from the crater’s valley. 

It was almost the perfect friendship. Almost.

Kiyo continued to pay the price for each visit to the wall. Every hour absent from his father’s presence a toll had to be paid upon entrance home. The punishment soon became customary, expected as Kiyo’s rapid skipping pace simmered down by the time he arrived back home. Feet dragged over the threshold, he removed his shirt and tossed it upon the floorboards. No verbal pleadings for forgiveness were offered, only his bare scarred back. Destruction of the flesh was the cost of Kiyo’s continued sinful disobedience. His way to make amends, to atone.

Each slash was hand delivered by the one who granted him life: his father. Ronin.

Yet with time, Kiyo grew accustomed to hiding his wounds beneath the tan toother-woven-hide overshirt that almost clung to his skin. Dried blood splotches stained the tattered fabric, his sole shirt the bearer of his agony. A sign of his acceptance of the life he was dealt.

Ayame’s worries went unheard by the high priest. The council was helpless to stop it as they had the utmost respect for Ronin. His past warrior achievements and continued penance were enough to sweep this problem under the rug from the public eye. Kiyo’s voice went unheard, wounds and agony forgotten, the Paladinian people left in the dark.

As Kiyo persisted in meeting his friend his treatment at home only worsened. Training became a living nightmare, some days Kiyo was unable to even make the journey. His legs beaten until it merely hurt to take a step. After every session, his muscles were ruptured and bones splinted. He was helpless.

Daisuke never knew it was even happening. His innocence dwelled within him under the love of his parents. Wanting to encourage his desire to explore, they permitted his expeditions out to see Kiyo, to give him some company. Yet gradually his over-energetic joy shrouded in the presence of his friend took notice of what he simply used to ignore. Kiyo’s misery.

Suspicion surmounted into the obvious. Day after day, the slight hints of worry broadened across Daisuke’s face as he watched Kiyo repeatedly collapse at the same slope on the hill up to the wall. The signs of his inevitable fall were easily seen through. Kiyo’s legs wobbled and gave out beneath him as the pain became too much to bear.  A hollow groan was all that Daisuke heard upon Kiyo’s collapse.

“Kiyo, did you fall?” Daisuke called out as he strolled back over to the usual spot. “Again?”

“I tripped.” Kiyo babbled out as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. But even that was a significant task to accomplish, all of his limbs riddled with violent shakes. His body was pushed to the brink of sustainability. Too weak, too sore, and too worn out to do anything about it.

“Don’t lie. You’re not supposed to lie.” Daisuke asserted with a rigid point of his finger.

Silence swept in with the wind between them, blades of vass so effortlessly tossed by the subtle swish of the cool air. Overhead ashy clouds drifted by, their shadows cast down upon the scene below them. The split amity over an issue far larger than either of the boys could ever anticipate.

Fed up with the questions, Kiyo huffed out a congested breath and shook his head.

“I’m . . . not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” Daisuke sighed and pointed to the scars on Kiyo’s back.

“I’m not.” Kiyo propelled himself off the ground and back upright with a little quiver of his legs. “See?” Skin dusted off, Kiyo picked up the pace and headed off toward the base of the wall. Daisuke left to watch his friend grind his teeth with every agonizing step. To endure the anguish alone.

That’s how the conversation on that topic always ended. Kiyo, entrenched in denial, was tied down by fear of what would happen if others found out. Unable to fathom what his father would do to him. Every wince of neglected pain was yet an insignificant price to pay for the happiness he experienced with Daisuke.

But as with all things, age crept upon them. The time for their accession grew near, the day of the blessed change dawning on them. Now each seven years old, only two years remained until their training would begin. Four years until the Sun would undergo its drastic polar shift into a darkened crimson. Nine until the day a few children of the newly marked generation would be chosen to become Sun Kissed Warriors. A blessed day when they would discover their divine purpose.

Their lives underwent rapid changes as Daisuke became an older brother to Misumi, a delightful petite girl who quickly idolized her big brother. Kiyo shrouded away from any attention and hid even further from the public eye. Stomped out of focus by his father’s grasp on his entire life, Kiyo found peace in Daisuke. Through it all, they both grew to understand each other and the world around them. Both equally brimmed with excitement for the day they would be able to travel the world and leave Nippon behind.

Until then, they explored what they could with their eyes gazing at the horizon until they could trace it all by hand from memory. The ends of the earth were their domain to explore. It was their destiny to conquer it all.

“Kiyo!” Daisuke yelled with a hole poked grin as he waved to his friend below.

Sat atop the wall, Daisuke’s hair blew in the wind as he enjoyed the midday view. The Sun’s presence overhead was too overwhelming to ignore by any means. Their pale skin covered for protection against the imminent light.

“I’m coming. I’m coming!” Kiyo shouted back as he took off down the hill. The instant he laid his roughed palms on the base of the wall the next position was instinctual. Where to grab, his footing, and how far up to boost himself were all ingrained within his mind. The layout of stones and notches in the wood integrated into his muscle memory.

Reaching the top, Daisuke helped lift Kiyo onto the weathered gray wooden beam. He plopped himself down with a subtle agitated sigh beside Daisuke. His back was still sore from his early morning spars with Ronin, joints stiff and muscles aching. A series of long-winded fights beneath the rising Sun with training deadwood staffs his father’s form of waking up in the morning.

“So tired,” Kiyo exclaimed as leaned back and collapsed onto the wall top.

“Okay. But hear me out.” Daisuke scooted closer to Kiyo and gestured down toward the valley with a wild gleam in his eye. “What if we did something different today?” With a sudden burst of air, Daisuke let the words roll off his tongue. An alluring twist on his tone.

Daisuke couldn’t contain his excitement, joy raised his face as the idea sat within him. His body rocked side to side, anticipating an answer. The desire to finally build up the nerve and step out of the confinement of their village. To not just sit and stare, but do something more.

“Like three rotations ago when we went to the north wall?” Kiyo questioned.

“No. That was fun though.” Daisuke reminisced in the memory for a moment, a day spent ducking and running from guardians, but he shook it out. “But no. I mean bigger.”

“Oka,” Kiyo responded nervously, his smile squandered by the mysteriousness of what Daisuke meant. What else was bigger than that?

“Go to the market and just ask around for what people have seen?”

“No. Think bigger.” Daisuke said as he stretched his arms out wide, his smile growing by the second. Kiyo sat up and rested his chin on his right palm. He sent his mind into a deep state of thought, eyes narrow and lips curled inward as he stared into the distance for an answer.

“Ask the high priest?”

“Even. Bigger.” Daisuke echoed with a broadened joyful stare, mouth perched open with a toothy loose smile.

Kiyo smushed his face between his fists and contemplated what the answer could be. His mind raced through everything they had planned to do until their training truly began. Too young to sort through them all one by one. Yet he only grew more doubtful of what Daisuke meant, Kiyo’s previous answers the biggest he could think of, except one.

The thought of it alone sent a shudder through Kiyo’s chest. Nerves heightened as his hair stood up on edge, he turned and locked eyes with Daisuke.

“Wait. You don’t mean-”

“Let’s go—down there.”  Daisuke pointed down at the dead forest at the base of the valley. 

The environment was a secluded area of dry land composed of mostly gray rocky soil. Sat atop the land laid a deadwood forest; ash gray scorched trees that bore tepid light yellow leaves year-round. Their hardened and malleable wood allowed the Nippon village to use it freely for anything from weaponry to housing. Its sturdiness and long-lasting strength proved useful to their progression as a species. As a clan.

This forest sat in the middle of a circular cliffside valley, a crater that scaled up around it to the edges of the village. The land was paved for travel to and from the forest for the resources that grew within it. Creatures and the selection of dreary but vile plant life that dwelled in the desolate forest made it a hostile place for those unprepared. A prime example the boys themselves.

“Dai. You know that’s forbidden, right?”

Kiyo’s imposed thought was taken with a grain of salt as Daisuke pouted at the bitter truth. Brushed off with a click of his tongue, he slapped Kiyo on the back. The sudden impact forced Kiyo to firmly grasp onto the side of the wall for support.

“They just say that. We’ll be fine!” Daisuke peered around the wall for a second and then cupped his mouth close to Kiyo’s ear. “I heard there are Sun stones there.”

“Really?” Kiyo said skittishly.

“Really. And it’d only be a short trip. One turn there, and one turn back. That’s it.” Daisuke insisted with both pointer fingers raised in the air.

“I guess. But you have to promise me something.”

“Awww, whaat?” Daisuke groaned as he laid flat back on the wall, hands hanging over the edge.

“If we see them, we leave.”

“Who?” Daisuke sat back upright and pondered for a moment. “Oh, you mean the teratomas?” Daisuke chuckled with a wry grin.

“Shake on it,” Kiyo demanded, eyes narrowed and locked in on Daisuke.

Curiosity stood at the edge of Daisuke’s brain, its presence prompting him to seek out the gruesome beast. To see first-hand the stories told and written to him by warriors in Nippon. To find out why they feared it the most.

From what he could imagine through the words entailed to him, the creature itself was a grotesque sturdy bag of cancerous flesh with randomly ingrown jagged teeth that stumbled through the woods. Some held the appearance of similar yet bloated humans, but their lack of consciousness proved that wrong. They had no emotions, only instinct. Those close enough to be seen from the village were mostly lanky sluggish beasts. While nothing compared to the lethality of the cave stalkers, they were dangerous nonetheless.

“But what if—”

“Shake on it,” Kiyo repeated without a sling flinch in his arm or waver in his voice.

Regardless, Daisuke desired to see them in action. To watch them move, from afar of course. But under the strict gaze of Kiyo, Daisuke crumbled and gave in to his demand. He slumped forward as his knuckles drag across the splintered wooden beams.

“Fine. We’ll leave if we see anything.” Daisuke croaked with a frog-like sigh. “No fun.”

“It’ll still be fun,” Kiyo said gratefully. A smile peeked through the edges of his lips as he shoved his hand closer to Daisuke. Pointer and middle finger extended in custom to their handshake, a cultural greeting of the Paladinian people.

Daisuke stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes at Kiyo’s notion of fun. Kiyo extended his hand out a little further and waited, fingers jammed into Daisuke’s side. Fingers shoved in deeper, Kiyo gave them a little wiggle.

“Stop, you know that—tickles!” Daisuke whimpered as Kiyo continued the onslaught.

“Shake it then.”

“Okay, okay!” Daisuke stuck out his two fingers and slid them over Kiyo’s. Clutched together they lifted their hands into the air. Releasing their grip on each other, Daisuke couldn’t help but smile back. His head shook from side to side as he turned to face the valley with Kiyo.

It was agreed. Did and done. All that remained was the trip down to the woods. The run there would not be much more than a short jog after they descended into the crater.

But it was time.

Time to venture beyond the wall.