Fuji Origins: The Birth of a Warrior

Prologue: Lore of the Land

As a calm breeze blew, the large, magnificent trees that resided in this area danced with each other as if engaged in a parley. The mesmerizing pink and white flowers adorned by these trees rained down, riding the wind as if on a rollercoaster ride. They fluttered along and would continue to do so if it were not for the large and ominous wall that lay in their path. The wall surrounded and protected a village, one that itself resonated beauty and mysticism as if it were blessed by the heavens. Asone gazed upon the village, feelings of warmth and happiness would arise. What caused this...? Only few knew. And none would tell. All that was known was that the village and the surrounding nature were in balance. Here, a special bond like no other existed between all elements such that an untold harmony lay over this land.

The land was known as... Fuji, the village was known as, Yume. But this is not where the story begins... nor will it be where it ends. To understand the Yume Village and its heavenly mysticism is to understand the journey that one undertakes to get here. And for that we need to go back to the beginning...

The village of Mura was established countless generations ago, a town that had been in existence since what seemed like the beginning of time. It was in no way, shape or form anything special. The architecture was bland, with no effort having been made to accentuate any features. The roads mimicked the buildings. The colors were dull, as if it had no personality. You could almost say that the town was...plain... uneventful and perhaps even... boring. Mura had no energy.

For the most part the inhabitants reflected the same attributes that the town portrayed, they just seemed to... exist. They were content on living their lives on repeat through routine, every day with minimal emotion. They did not strive to do anything else, and they certainly did not strive to achieve great things. Complacency was the key here in Mura and it was frowned upon to think, feel or be different in any way. Despite all of this, in every generation a handful of villagers are born with a yearning to break the mould and excel, to become a better version of themselves. To the other villagers they were labelled as Dori, people who drifted and did not belong. They were treated as if they had been infected by a deadly disease. Alienated and ignored.

Regardless of this treatment these individuals found solace in each other, and over time a new community was born. Amongst this new community they discarded the hatred from others and decided to call themselves Minari or apprencice.This was their new beginning!

Why may you ask did they choose this particular title? ... Well within themselves they believed that they were chosen to be a part of something far greater! But what was that something? They did not know. All they could do was listen and learn to their inner self and each other, hoping, praying that one day this something would show itself...

Mura was located high above the sea, with forests on one side and unending fields on the other. And although Mura itself was plain, the land that it was located upon certainly was not; mysticism lay in the air. This was further enhanced by the low-lying clouds and fog that engulfed the northern region of the land.This had always been, no one knew why, and no one had cared to ask. They simply accepted it and continued to live their lives knowing that nothing good come from the fog.

On the village outskirts where not many, if any ventured, but where all the elements met, stood a rather intriguing gate. This gate was old, one would know this simply by looking at its features, the architecture was from a time gone by. Despite its age it was covered in vibrant color and large banners that hung either side. The banners looked as if they had only been placed there that day. Upon them simply read; "Sakura Bridge", no other detail was provided. The most important feature, or some would say “feeling” was that the gate had an underlying energy, one that gave it presence. So much so that those who heard its call would feel the energy beckoning them towards it, as if it were offering a warm embrace. The question was who would hear the call and who would feel the beckoning…?

Lying beyond the gate was a wide wooden bridge, one could only assume that it was the Sakura Bridge. It too had the same architecture as the gate. And thus it too did not look as if it had aged. Whilst following the bridges' path into the horizon it would be normal for one to see the other side, the destination of the bridge. But by now, one would already know that this was no ordinary bridge nor was it located in no ordinary area. As the bridge continued to span forward it slowly but surely disappeared, engulfed by the low-lying clouds and fog that ruled this area. If one wanted to know what was on the other side they would need to venture into the fog. What lay beyond, within those clouds, no one knew… would anyone be curious and brave enough to ever find out? And if they did, what challenges would they face? Only time will tell…