Life Story
Page 1
Far to the east of the Kingdom of Valeon lie exotic lands. Those lands, with their own unique cultures different from the nations of the west, where they are lumped together as "the East."
There they have a profession called 'shinobi'.
They establish villages composed entirely of shinobi in places far removed from the world of the mundane. Beginning training when old enough to stand and walk, they live, fight, and die for the missions they are ordered to perform.
Kiriha was one of these shinobi born in one of the many such villages.. His oldest memory is of holding a kunai, still unwieldly in his yet-tiny hand, training to strike a person's vital point with a single blow.
When Kiriha had learned all the vital points of the human body, and became able to strike them accurately, he was but four years old by Eastern reckoning.
Page 2
Shinobi have no need of individual purpose. They are blades, eradicating their own selves to see their assigned mission through.
Kiriha was raised with this drilled into his body and mind. By watching the shinobi around him putting teachings into practice, he was able to understand more deeply the way things should be.
The shinobi who train the younglings change without notice. If there were times when they returned, there were also times when it was announced only that 'that one had died,' and the mentor changed.
All were to silently set out on missions, execute them, and eventually die. It was a small village. Kiriha's parents must have been somewhere among them. But he paid it no mind. He was a shinobi.
At fifteen, Kiriha completed his training. Tasked with investigating the affairs of a kingdom, he set out from his village without a word.
Page 3
Kiriha joined the kingdom's guild and made his way, posing as a common adventurer who puts his life on the line, hired by various parties, and doing battle.
A warrior; unspoken; playing a role without asserting himself and not interacting with allies deeply enough to leave a lasting impression.
And yet, if he stayed in one place for too long, word would spread of his usefulness. Before that, he moved to other lands. And in any land he left behind, yet another shinobi would come to take up the assignment.
Kiriha melded into the kingdom's shadows, reporting to his village local information as well as the affairs of the kingdom, fulfilling his duty as an undercover agent.
Page 4
The noteworthy blade leaves behind tales. But a mere sword that cuts well, is used in war, and is broken has no story to tell.
There was a wife; a shinobi of the same village. A child was born; to be a new shinobi. This was but one more duty, for the continuation of the village.
Just when he learned his wife was with child, Kiriha set out from his village on the next mission, never knowing the face of his offspring. So too, the face of his wife, only ever acquainted in the darkness of the evening. Accordingly, there is no personal story for him either.
How and when did this shinobi die? There are none who know.
His entire life, he was but a blade to be wielded.