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Description
Chapter 1

The night air on Santorini was warm, but not stagnant. It was a perfect air, pleasantly humid as it rolled off the great Aegean, up the rocky hills and straight through the open windows of the incomparable Ryan Scrast.

From his front window, and subsequent porch, Ryan retained a breathtaking view of the Greek seascape unparalleled in even the best of the three-dollar postcards so mercilessly used by port vendors to gouge the perennial tourist mob. In the daylight, wisps of cloud rolled across the sapphire sky, while dozens of islands lied randomly along the equally dazzling sea. At night, the crystal moon led the dance of a million stars while its silver light rebounded off the undulating mirror of water, creating much the same effect as a disco ball, without, of course, the dancing.

Such a nightscape was appearing on Santorini while two swords were busily hacking at each other in Ryan's front room. These swords were impelled to such an action by two men; One, Ryan himself, and the other, a man cloaked in black, his face mostly hidden. The cloaked man had broken into Ryan's house via a basement window, in what seemed to be an attempt on Ryan's life.

The assassin appeared to be the better swordsman. Ryan was blocking every blow, all the while backing up slowly. He was looking for a break in the attack. Finding one, he lifted his sword up and to the left. This parried the incoming blow from the assassin, which was coming over his right shoulder. Ryan was then able to rotate the assassin's sword over his head, then down to his right, throwing him off balance. Seeing his chance, Ryan quickly ducked and swiped his right leg into the assassin's feet. This, coupled with his temporary loss of balance, sent him to the floor. The assassin looked up and saw Ryan, his sword pointed straight at the intruder's throat.

"You're slipping, Tanahiro-san," Ryan said.

Ryan dropped his sword and, smiling, extended a hand to the prone attacker. He grabbed it, and pulled himself up. Pulling off his mask, he was seen to be smiling as well. "Perhaps," he said with a laugh, "you're just getting better."

The attacker was Mr. Tanahiro Ito, one of the fish sellers in the market. He was also a fairly renowned kendo instructor back in Japan. The fight was pre-arranged, to simulate an intruder.

"So, lunch tomorrow, then?" Ryan asked, putting away his sword.

"Sure thing," called Tanahiro. He was already at Ryan's door. "Sleep well."

Ryan lived alone, so it was possible to get away with things like this. On the days he knew Tanahiro was coming, he moved everything out of his front room, so as not to damage any furniture or other relatively valuable knickknacks. He went to the trouble of getting these impromptu lessons because he collected swords. Eight years previous to this night, he was looking over his collection and realized that to collect these beautiful instruments, these honed steel masterpieces, and not be able to use them, was simply unfair to the swords. He moved to Santorini, in fact, solely to meet Tanahiro and take his unique lessons.

Ryan went back to bed and slept, perhaps, a bit more easily, reassured that he could defeat any attacker that might break in.

Description
Chapter 1

The night air on Santorini was warm, but not stagnant. It was a perfect air, pleasantly humid as it rolled off the great Aegean, up the rocky hills and straight through the open windows of the incomparable Ryan Scrast.

From his front window, and subsequent porch, Ryan retained a breathtaking view of the Greek seascape unparalleled in even the best of the three-dollar postcards so mercilessly used by port vendors to gouge the perennial tourist mob. In the daylight, wisps of cloud rolled across the sapphire sky, while dozens of islands lied randomly along the equally dazzling sea. At night, the crystal moon led the dance of a million stars while its silver light rebounded off the undulating mirror of water, creating much the same effect as a disco ball, without, of course, the dancing.

Such a nightscape was appearing on Santorini while two swords were busily hacking at each other in Ryan's front room. These swords were impelled to such an action by two men; One, Ryan himself, and the other, a man cloaked in black, his face mostly hidden. The cloaked man had broken into Ryan's house via a basement window, in what seemed to be an attempt on Ryan's life.

The assassin appeared to be the better swordsman. Ryan was blocking every blow, all the while backing up slowly. He was looking for a break in the attack. Finding one, he lifted his sword up and to the left. This parried the incoming blow from the assassin, which was coming over his right shoulder. Ryan was then able to rotate the assassin's sword over his head, then down to his right, throwing him off balance. Seeing his chance, Ryan quickly ducked and swiped his right leg into the assassin's feet. This, coupled with his temporary loss of balance, sent him to the floor. The assassin looked up and saw Ryan, his sword pointed straight at the intruder's throat.

"You're slipping, Tanahiro-san," Ryan said.

Ryan dropped his sword and, smiling, extended a hand to the prone attacker. He grabbed it, and pulled himself up. Pulling off his mask, he was seen to be smiling as well. "Perhaps," he said with a laugh, "you're just getting better."

The attacker was Mr. Tanahiro Ito, one of the fish sellers in the market. He was also a fairly renowned kendo instructor back in Japan. The fight was pre-arranged, to simulate an intruder.

"So, lunch tomorrow, then?" Ryan asked, putting away his sword.

"Sure thing," called Tanahiro. He was already at Ryan's door. "Sleep well."

Ryan lived alone, so it was possible to get away with things like this. On the days he knew Tanahiro was coming, he moved everything out of his front room, so as not to damage any furniture or other relatively valuable knickknacks. He went to the trouble of getting these impromptu lessons because he collected swords. Eight years previous to this night, he was looking over his collection and realized that to collect these beautiful instruments, these honed steel masterpieces, and not be able to use them, was simply unfair to the swords. He moved to Santorini, in fact, solely to meet Tanahiro and take his unique lessons.

Ryan went back to bed and slept, perhaps, a bit more easily, reassured that he could defeat any attacker that might break in.