Naomi was visibly cross for the whole boat ride back and didn’t say anything to the old man who neither said much himself. He seemed to be occupied with old memories and other menial happenings of the mind.

Naomi kept him in her peripheral while she gazed beyond, quietly affected by the poisonous fumes of her own emotions.

After a while of unresolved tension, the island finally came into view and before long the boat landed on shore and everyone stepped out except Hanzo who’d been left on the lonely stump of black rock in the middle of the ocean.

He came to, crawling to where his sword was planted until he got a firm grasp on it and hoisted himself up.

He wasn’t sure where all this extra pain was coming from.

It felt like someone had bludgeoned him with a bar of steel.

Probably Naomi…

He scowled, feeling a familiar heat singe his green eyes.

And then, another wave crashed on shore and burst into a roaring sheen of white, laced with the slightest spectrum of a dazzling rainbow.

As it rose and fell like a majestic curtain, a translucent specter seemed to take form amidst the flurrying drizzle.

He saw two orbs of light spaced no more than two inches from each other and in that moment he felt sick.

Droplets swirled and gathered into a mass until they assumed the humanly form of none other than Skeeter himself.

The watery phantom bobbed above the tip of the ledge with arms spread slightly and his fingers splayed as if they were enabling his levitation.

Hanzo abandoned his fatigue and gripped his sword with all his strength, expecting a staggering release.

His effort was abruptly canceled. The sword didn’t budge.

“DAMN YOU ODYSS—”

A column of water blasted his speech to oblivion and sent him hurtling down the stony slope.

He was thrust into the ocean at ravishing speeds, gurgling and choking as he flailed around trying to escape the powerful current.

He finally burst through the surface, sucking in gallons of air for fear of drowning again but in no more than a few seconds Skeeter bombed him back under with a massive hand.

The impact stung Hanzo as if he’d been slapped a thousand times. His nostrils burned, his neck was bent and he’d gone deaf from the booming ocean.

Skeeter resorted to nuking the whole area with a volley of swollen fists, throttling Hanzo out of control.

His screams of rage came out garbled and distorted but he fought back, swinging his fists wildly and landing nothing.

Skeeter continued to plunge him until his body went limp and lifeless, suspended beneath the turbulent liquid dunes.

The cascading water fell like heavy rain long after he paused the assault, waiting to be certain that his target would not rise again.

Evidently, the sea burst open and struck Skeeter with a thousand bullets. Hanzo emerged from the fray and bashed his opponent’s head off with a glittering water sword and proceeded to belt him further until the spirit was splattered beyond recognition.

The distorted blade vaguely assumed the form of the black one planted on the stump of earth, and it cut with the same razor sharp ferocity.

Steam fled through the slits between Hanzo’s clenched teeth as he expended tons of energy on destroying his opponent.

However, the spirit formed behind him amidst the descending storm and punched him in the back.

Hanzo reeled earthward and plunged into the realm of liquid once again. With the now invisible sword still churning in his fist he turned and swung as though he knew the spirit was coming for him.

Surprisingly, the blade grew a hundred times its size as it fanned out of the sea and lobbed Skeeter in half.

The gelatinous slab dropped like an executioner’s weapon and spawned a huge rupturing splash.

Seconds later, Hanzo staggered on shore and ambled up the uneven slope. His vision was hazy and littered with stars and he wasn’t even sure what the hell was going on.

He collapsed upon his real sword like a drunkard that had just been kicked out of a bar, gasping and choking on a tasteless booze.

Meanwhile, Skeeter hovered above with a large mallet poised over his head.

The young warrior gripped the sword harder than ever and with an enraged cry, ripped it loose just as the mallet slammed down on the protruding monument.

Everything went to hell. Chunks of rock splintered and hurtled great distances followed by another jetting white column leaping to the heavens.

Skeeter observed there on, waiting for the chaos to subside and when it did, he found the boy lying roughly in the same spot. The only difference was that the stump had been significantly reduced.

The spirit dropped down into the splintered crater and circled around the body in slow strides.

Then he hoisted him up and passed him along the width of his shoulders and took off in the direction of the prestigious island.

As soon as he reached the shoreline he shrugged Hanzo off and let him careen to the ground with a heavy whump.

He lay embedded in the wet sand, utterly defeated and haplessly broken.

And so the hours went by.

At sundown, a group of three obscure youngsters walked the beach, admiring the beauty of evening on the ocean when they stumbled upon the wrung out oddity that had washed up on shore.

One of the strangers, a girl named Myra unveiled herself and gazed down at him in confusion.

“Whoa!!” Cried the second onlooker, a boy named Skyline who happened to be her younger brother, as was the third kid, Grinder.

Myra was bewildered and astonished just as they were.

Skyline crouched down and prodded Hanzo’s sunken cheek with his finger. “Is this real??”

“Stop, Sky!” Myra cried as she bent down as well.

Dusting the sand off of Hanzo’s face, she lifted his head to try and make out who he was.

She’d never seen him before but there was something hinting in the back of her mind.

“Yo, check out his sword!” Grinder said, attempting to pry the weapon from his cold dead hands.

“Could you guys stop it??!” She snapped. “We need to rescue him and find out who he…”

Her words trailed off as it suddenly dawned on her.

This ruddy, dark skinned boy with a majestic black sword looked to be the same Hanzo that the old man told her all about!

“Hurry!!” There was a newfound urgency in her voice. “We have to bring him to the encampment! Grab his arms! I’ll pull from the top.”

The three lugged the heap away from the rolling tide with arduous effort. Farther on, they dragged him until they reached the forest where Myra decided it would be a better idea to carry him the rest of the way on her back.

“He sure won’t let go of that sword, huh?” Skyline said, admiring the sleek and sculpted blade even in the dark.

Hanzo’s eyelids quivered as he subconsciously sensed a change in atmosphere.

He did hear talking but it sounded no different than what he might’ve heard in a dream.

After what felt like an eternity of floating through darkness he felt a hardness press against his back, almost as if he were being laid down.

But laid down on what?

It was surely too hard to be a bed. He wished he could sleep on a bed. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time he slept on one.

His face became cold all of a sudden. Then after a few seconds it went back to it’s normal temperature. Then it grew cold again.

The third time, he recognized the slick and refreshing feel of water spilling over his skin, trickling through his unruly hair.

At last, he peeled his eyes open for the first time.

A wave of alarm struck him like a gong and he jumped to his feet, flailing his sword around as if he were ready to hack the hell out of whatever it was that was trying to attack him.

To his bewilderment, all he found was a large gathering of odd people gazing at him with round eyes.

For a long and quiet moment, he just stared back.

“HE’S AWAKE!!!!” Came a roaring, jubilant cry.

All at once the startled crowd threw their arms up with joy and people started hugging and kissing each other. Flower petals sprang up from random directions in celebration of the awakening of Hanzo who was now more confused than he’d ever been in his life.

“Our hero has finally risen!!” Someone cried happily.

“Welcome to the caravan, Hanzo!!!”

Droves of idiots surrounded him, dancing and cartwheeling, flinging petals and other celebratory nonsense, leaving no room for any explanation of what exactly they were so excited about.

Hanzo briefly considered killing everyone just in case they were no more than raving lunatics with similar intentions as those cannibal natives which they vaguely resembled.

However, he noticed the many children and even elderly prancing among the fray and reconsidered his inclinations.

The wild and festive Caravan as they called themselves, decorated him with rows of garlands and ushered him to the center of the campground in front of a bonfire.

Reminiscent of the cannibal natives, Hanzo was hesitant to move an inch but the crowds overwhelmed him and practically forced him to take a seat at one of the benches placed a few yards from it, much to his relief.

The encampment was quite large and homely, difficult to make out with all the peons shuffling around.

Tall bamboo torches were placed around the campsite but not the only source of illumination, given the colorful decorative lights laced about the many large cabins and tree branches.

“So, Hanzo,” some lady sat down beside him and peered into his eyes. “What’s it like being a village hero?”

Hanzo looked at her but did not comprehend what she was asking.

Suddenly a series of loud tapping drew everyone’s attention. Heads turned to see a man in robes holding a wooden spoon and a bowl of porridge.

He wasn’t Uzai thankfully, but Hanzo was still annoyed at him for some reason.

“Everyone rejoice!!” He announced. “Tonight we celebrate the arrival of our most honored guest, Hanzo Blackleaf!!”

Applause rippled through the musty crowd followed by some shrill whistling.

The tipsy looking man went on with his appraisals circling around the blaze.

Someone else sat on the other end of the bench beside the bewildered young warrior and patted his shoulder amicably.

“This is it!” The stranger grinned ear to ear. “This is your time to shine!”

Hanzo jerked his shoulder away and made a fist as if he were about to deck the fool.

While the speaker continued to ramble on about Hanzo’s noble characteristics that he did not possess, the boy anxiously searched for the nearest exit.

It was impossible to get out of here without being seen by the horrifying sycophants that seemed determined to hold him hostage, showering him with more compliments than he desired.

“O—Kay!!” He said, leaping to his feet and tearing the flowers off his neck. The enthusiastic man paused to look at him.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but I’m way too damn tired to be sitting here smoking herbs with you stupid maniacs. Peace the heck out.”

With that, Hanzo lifted his sword and dropped it along his shoulder, shoving his way through the ogling crowd.

No more than a few strides later, he heard a sudden whipping sound and looked to see a glistening sword hurtling toward him.

Rotating his torso, he blocked the trajectory and stumbled backward from the force.

The weapon ricocheted into the trees and severed a couple branches but did not return from the dark sky.

The crowd wooed as Naomi strode onto the scene with disgust written all over her face.

“Why is this stupid sea chicken still on my island??”

Sea chicken?? Hanzo thought, glaring back at his second arch nemesis. He was prone to battle but Myra stepped in front of him in defense.

“Leave him alone, you horrible person!! He’s just visiting!!”

“Nobody asked for your opinion.” The angry girl retorted.

“No! Hanzo is an honored guest among the Caravan and I won’t let you treat him like a dog!”

Hanzo’s finger rose as if he were about to say something contrary but he couldn’t quite find the words.

“I bet a thousand jupees I know more about that sea urchin than any of you do.” Naomi added, drawing a short sword from her belt as Myra took a stance and held up two fighting sticks.

Onlookers were buzzing with excitement. Hanzo was an exception but was somewhat curious to see where this standoff would lead to.

“Naomi, you’re such a foul person. I hope you get struck by an epiphany and realize that your attitude has done nothing but cause you misery all these years.”

“As much as I hate to say this, I’d rather fight that runaway slave than hear you lecture me, you old hag.”

Runaway…slave…

The insult drummed Hanzo’s mind.

“Oooh!!! Hanzo versus Naomi!!” Someone caught on to the idea after the fact. “What an epic thought!!”

Others joined in on the conversation not even bothering to steer clear of the two girls caught in a dangerous deadlock.

A fight was sure to break out at any moment and the silly Caravan treated it like a beetle match.

“What’s going on fellas?” A familiar voice rang out. “What’s all the commotion?”

It was the old man. He strolled on the scene in a pair of clogs, chewing on beef jerky.

His eyes were round with inquisition.

“Myra…” he observed the girl’s stance with a frown. “You should bend your knees a little more. There ya go…”

After correcting her, he turned to Naomi.

“Naomi, I thought I told you to pop them scallops and put them in the bucket. Boy I tell ya…”

When she failed to reply, he shook his head and muttered something unintelligible.

All the obnoxious hubbub from the Caravan seemed to subside after he’d arrived which made Hanzo more conspicuous as he tried to slink off into the shadows.

“Hanny boy!!” Uzai cried happily. “You’re back!”

The warrior growled and fixed the old dog with a death glare.

“Get the hell away from me!!” He rasped.

He took the boy’s arm and addressed the crowd with pride.

“Everyone! I’d like you all to meet our new pal, Hanny boy! He is now officially a member of the Caravan! Welcome him to his new home and make sure ya treat him real good!”

Hanzo tried to jerk his arm away many times but the old man stuck to him like glue. It was beyond unnerving.

“Let go of me!!” He yelled.

“Aw, come on now, Hanny! Sorry y’all…he’s a bit shy.”

Everyone laughed humorously and applauded him.

“We’re glad to have ya!!” Someone said, grinning.

A small rosy cheeked girl caught Hanzo’s attention by tugging on his pants leg.

He looked down on her in a flash of hostility and then reduced it to mild annoyance as she smiled and waved at him.

The guy blinked in confusion and resumed his struggle to escape Uzai’s gooey grasp.

What the hell is this guy made of?? Putty??

“So Hanzo,” a female voice called to his attention, belonging to an older woman with eyes reminiscent of the Murimans.

She touched him on the shoulder as he was busy trying to tear the old man’s arm off of him. In a minute he was about to chop it off.

“What do you think about our Caravan girls?” She said furrowing her thick brows. “A handsome young man like you must be looking to court a fine young woman by now.”

Hanzo stared at her in disbelief. These people were either alarmingly insane, or downright stupid.

“Okay.” He replied without even answering the question.

“Marriage??” Someone else spoke up. “He ain’t looking for no marriage! He needs a good meal! Look at him! That’s why he looks so agitated!”

“And that’s why he needs a nice young lady!!” The woman remarked.

“I tried to feed him some of my good old fashioned porridge but he didn’t wanna’ eat it for some reason.” Uzai commented, finally letting go of the boy’s bicep to reach for more beef jerky hidden somewhere underneath his brown cloak.

Hanzo tried to make a run for it when Myra suddenly approached and stood too close for comfort.

“Oh, Hanzo!” She exclaimed. “Have you eaten at all since we found you??”

Found me?? The boy thought. At that moment, he found himself trying to recall what had happened before he woke up in the middle of this mindless banter.

For some reason, he was drawing a total blank.

How in God’s name did he get here?

The older lady closest to him lit up at Myra’s concern.

“Oooh!! Looks like we already have our first prospect!!”

Myra was taken aback. “N—No, it’s not even like that! I was just concerned—”

“Well, then it’s official!” Uzai chirped, striking his palms together. “Hanzo’s engaged!!”

Myra’s jaw fell. “What??”

The crowd wooed in awe, some blushing with glee and some with jealousy.

Right about then, a gust of steel wind erupted from Hanzo as he crooked his fingers and flung his arms down as if he were trying to jump to the moon.

“Will you idiots just shut up!!!??” He boomed.

Everyone fell deathly silent. Myra jumped back in a fright.

He allowed them to bathe in the silence for a good moment before continuing a long overdue tirade.

“I don’t know who the hell any of you lunatics are but I am not here to be apart of this stupid circus. I ain’t getting married to nobody. I ain’t a part of your dumb Caravan. I ain’t got squat to do with you. I’m here because this stupid old frog face is supposed to teach me but he keeps spinning me around in circles and it’s making me sick!!!”

Uzai gnawed on jerky, indifferent to the kid’s outburst.

“So we need to start planning for the wedding. Naomi will be the head chef in the kitchen. Fiona will deal with decorations and arrangements and the rest of you can help with cleaning and stuff.”

“What about you, old man?” Somebody asked excitedly.

“I’ll invite guests.” He said.

“Who said I was participating???” Naomi hissed.

“You will be the head chef of the kitchen. We need your expertise!”

Naomi glared at him as if she knew something that nobody else did.

“Yeah, whatever idiot.” She said, turning to walk away. “Put me in the kitchen and nobody’s gonna wake up the next day.”

Once again, the lively bunch ramped up their conversations, reminiscing about all the past weddings they held on the island and were excited to have another one coming so soon.

“I wonder when Naomi’s going to marry?” A lady named Burali mused.

“The question is, who is she going to marry. That feisty lass don’t seem to like anybody.”

“I think she’s jealous.” Another giggled.

“Of Hanny man?!”

“No! Of Myra!”

“No way!! Naomi? Jealous??”

At this point, Hanzo had lost his bearings completely. This must have been some sort of elaborate prank. One that would only last as long as the victim bought into it.

After a spell of utter disbelief and overwhelming rage, he blacked out and punched a bystander in the jaw then he tackled Uzai and started plowing his fists into his face in the same manner that Skeeter had done to him in the ocean.

Men rushed forward to pull him off but he thrashed and snarled in defiance.

One guy took an elbow to the face and dropped unconscious and the others suffered some serious scratches and bruises from this feral beast.

It took at least seven men to pin him down.

By then, he was hopelessly lost in a whirlwind of rabid fury, foaming at the mouth and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His struggling was reduced to mild spasms and his body temperature had risen quite high.

Fatigue and sheer anger rendered him unconscious and he had to be carried off to the infirmary to be treated.

Seeing that he was no longer an active threat, Uzai got to his feet and others came by to help dust him off.

“That kid sure packs a punch.” He gigged.