“So... did ya get it yet” Her eyes were ponding my soul. “Why does the River clan use the term art instead of technect if the answer isn’t ” Drawing the her ire with an incorrect answer is the last thing I want right now. Her mouth always seemed to permanently frozen in some coky form as if her sole goal in life was to inform the world that she understood something you didn’t. Her smile held a strong christma that would draw anyone in and have them start talking but no matter what you said you would always be overcome with the sensation that those were not the words she wanted to here.

I saw it many time man who came to flirt would end up with a broken nose but as time because they just couldn't stand her god awful girl and attract her only to find that the she far stronger then she looks. Not that anyone would try and kill her for it our clan has governed this mountain since the second age if my father's words are to be true witch sister doesn't believe.

No my sister would have avoided a lot of trouble if she just had that grin. Often father would complain to her and me “ why can’t you both be more like your little brother Boris. Look at how well behaved he is. No what lead to her getting into a lot of fights is the looks she has in her eyes. She only has three. The first are eyes that speak of expectation that seem to be laced with an almost childlike curiosity. This mixed with her beauty often send men the wrong singles but well her eyes will take up that look no matter who it is well at least so long as they call themselves a sword man. Be it male or female, young or old, a sword novice or a sword emperor. To her all they were the same. They either had what she was looking for or they didn’t and no one ever did. The second one of inevitable disappointment.

“ Does it have something to do with our sword style nature” my naive voice came through with a purposefully generic. For all my see if my sister was under the impression you know the answer she would often just go straight to explaining her perception of what the answer should be. Unfortunately this wasn't one of those times.

“ Explain better Erick”

“ Yes Vi… its to do with the theological ideas behind”

“Wrong. E you are wrong” well shit... time for plan B

“ Then what is the answer o wise sister?” my sister is also weak to compliments.

“ Good Erick if you don’t know an answer or don’t understand anything you shouldn't be afraid to ask. You can come ask the great I any question you have be it the sword or woman but i don’t do math.”

“Vi your getting distracted again”

“ O right you are Erick… well it to basically call an art by the clan to delude themselves” her voice seemed to spick and croke and the end but hidden under all that their

“ Huh?”

“ Yep our style is no different than any other on this mountain that they call the holy land of the sword. Did you know that our technect was once the strongest and was also considered the simplest after all our family made ”

“ But what why would they delude themselves like that?”

“Ha. That's simply because they fear the truth that hidden in our ART as our clan calls it. The one who fears it the most is our father the clan leader. But our fathers fear has nothing to do with us anymore”

“ What truth?” my sister seems to twist and turn i look up to see that she not lays down in our little hut apon a pile of hay. She sits on a ways where she almost lying but not quite there yet as if she can’t decide if she will need to get up again. Yet her face betrayed her it showed how deeply she was lost in thought.

“ well” she replied “ It's simple really… you are dirt”

“What why?”

“ oh I said it wrong no it's not that you have done something bad. You know that big sis is alway proud of you”

“ Then why am I dirt’

“ Your not getting it. It simply all life is”

“ now your going in about the meaning of life. If i’m dirt then is are you!” Vi eyes seem to flash we a deep inspiration where she usually takes a very leaked approach to teaching where she seem to want me to find all of the mistakes myself. Now she seem to want to strangle the answer into me

“ Yes exactly your sister is dirt, your father and brother is dirt and life is dirt. Completely pointless dirt, that why our style will never be the strongest again they need something or someone to show the whole world the truth that everything is dirt” She seem to have her face lock up in deep ecstatic madness . Yes that was the hid look her eyes would show on the most rare of occasions. The eyes of a madman. She lifted up breaking down our hut.

“ YOU ARE DIRT, THE DIRT IS DIRT. A MOUNTAIN IS A BIG PILE OF DIRT,A HILL IS A SMALL PILE OF DIRT, PLANTS AND LIFE ARE SIMPLY DIRT THAT'S BEEN ARRANGED IN A FANCY WAY. THE SWORD IS DIRT, METAL IS A SUBSPECIES OF DIRT, MAGMA IS HOT DIRT, WATER IS DIRT, TIME IS SIMPLY THE PROCESS BY WHICH DIRT MOVES. AND DEATH.

DEATH IS HOW LIFE RETURNS TO BEING DIRT!!!”

Yet all at once her madness seemed to die just before it reaches it peak and her face contest to the face of utter disappointment then slowly it draws itself to tranquility. In all my life this is the only time my sisters face seem without life.

“ The three core concepts of the art of death are these.

The first everything is dirt nothing is more but nothing is less than dirt.

The second no one is better than anyone else and nothing is better than anything else we are all equal in being dirt.

The third… my brother is dirt has the potential to become anything for everything is already dirt. .”

“ what about magic?”

“ hhhhhhhhhh yes that is also dirt”

“ Then what about the soul?”