Mura Kensho's Secondary Magic Training [Private]

In the lands of Midi, where the air blew peacefully and the inhabitants lived almost heavenly, Mura was walking across the plains. Wielding Harusame on his back, he and Musashi, who he called Kyuken, walked all the way from Fiore to this distinct country; hundreds, or even thousands of miles were passed by their feet… or maybe just Mura’s feet, because Kyuken was literally floating around with no feet. But why did he decide to walk so far? What goal or objective laid inside this country? Well, to be accurate, this was his homeland; this was where his family, the famous Kensho’s, lived. He’d went back home to have a good time with them after such a long time. He was assured that they missed him. “Maybe they forgot you a long time ago…” Kyuken teased him. Mura felt a little shocked by that thought. “No way. They won’t forget me that easily,” he replied with a voice of cocksureness, “I mean, they did entrust me your sword, Harusame. They would never do that without a really, really good reason.”

Finally appearing before the giant wood door that lead into their manor, Mura was itching with excitement. “It’s been so long… a lot of things might have changed,” he said to Kyuken, who recalled this place as his ultimate arena. Back in his days, he used to fight against the Kensho’s and even tried to break into their household. “It evokes a lot of memories… ahh, the clashing blades. The fierce air…” Kyuken began to think back to his days, while Mura lifted up his hand and knocked on the door. He managed to hear a little shuffle, but no one answered his knocking. A little worried, he grabbed the door handle, and to his surprise, it wasn’t locked. Slowly, he pushed the door open and spotted that his family - his entire family, in fact - was waiting for him…

”Our mage is home!” sounded from the middle, where Mura’s dad was sitting. In the blink of an eye, the entire room emerged with confetti; it made everything look like a giant party. Flags poured down from the roof with the texts “Welcome back, Mura!”, “Salutations, Mage!” and more. It was all solemn and Mura couldn’t hold his tears back, looking at all those happy faces; so many people had waited for his return. “Wow, guys… I’m flattered,” he commented, “So you did get my letter, Dad.” His father, Miki Kensho, would stand up and give his son a large hug, while tears poured down his mask. “It’s been so long, son… you’ve surely grown strong,” he spoke up, wiping off the tears. This was, indeed, a warm feeling for Mura to return to his family; even though that they knew that he would leave again soon, adn that he was also here for training, they would try their best to enjoy their temporary time with him.


Mura walked across the hallway in his mansion, looking in every corner and every room. He would get small flashbacks of his childhood, where he would play around and swing tree sticks around like swords. His father was walking alongside him, as they would greet Mura’s relatives; his uncles, cousins, aunts; there were too many to name all of them, and yet, Mura remembered them all. That’s when he thought of his grandfather and asked his father: “Hey, is Grandpa… still around?” Miki would look down at him with a cold look, which made Mura a little shocked. Was his grandfather… gone? After a brief moment, Miki would laugh and clap Mura on the back. “The old man is still around, son! In fact, let’s go over to him now!” he told him and followed Mura across the giant household, all the way to their library…

It was dark inside that library. Despite the unusual lack of dust, you could still see reflections of the light that emerged from the roof windows. The main hall was enormously wide, not to mention how tall the bookshelves were. If not for the constant maintenance of the library by the Kensho family, who knows what giant mess it would be. “Woah, is it just me or are there more books than back then?” Mura curiously asked his father. The old man would nod and reply: “We’ve found a lot of lost documents from our ancestors. I called the transcription teams to translate the texts and write them down. Knowledge of the past is very important for the people of the future.” As Mura and his dad, Mikihisa, walked across the forest of books, they spotted the old man, sitting on an enclosed table, seemingly reading a couple volumes. “Hey! It’s been a while, Grandpa!” The old, bunny-haired man would turn his face around and look into Mura’s eyes. His face immediately shone. “Oh! My dear grandson, you’re back!” he spoke up and swiftly jumped over to Mura, grabbing his head and petting his hair, “It’s been such a long time, I know! So what’s up, are you alright? How is it?” “I’ve been fine, mostly doing jobs and fighting people. You have no idea...” Mura gladly replied to him, while looking around the library, “I just needed to train for a while, and well… this must be the best place. My homeland.” The old grandfather grinned for a moment, then suddenly turned silent. His lips were trembling for short moments, indicating that he hesitated in saying something. “Something wrong, Grandy?” Mura curiously asked him. His hesitating appearance didn’t look good. “It’s just… we need to tell you something,” the grandfather told him...

After clearing up the volumes and heading back to the living room, the grandfather sat down on a couch, inviting Mura to sit in front of him on a chair. Mikihisa would stand next to Mura, as the grandfather began to tell the reason of his anxiousness: “You see, grandson… you might haven’t noticed it, but merely a month after your parting, we accidently revived a very old conflict. The Musashi family… they’ve declared war on us.” It hit Mura like a bat in the head, quickly realizing that they were in war. He didn’t realize it before, not even when he wandered across the lands. The grandfather would look down and continue: “You might not deserve to be involved, but somewhy, the Musashi family accused us for the murderer of one of their most respected men, Kana. They’re not seeming to change their minds, though. They’re determined to destroy us all.” This was very distant for Mura, who’ve never experienced war before. If it involved deaths, then it was very stupid. He rapidly rose on his feet, slamming his hands on the table, while protesting: “How?! Haven’t you tried to get a talk with them or something?!” The old man found Mura’s reaction reasonable, but also distant; he rarely got angry. “We’ve tried to calm them down… but it’s too late. They already killed some of our men and taken others as hostages. This war was unpreventable.” Mura’s face was filled with shock, as he would rush out of the living room, searching for his family. He ran across the hallways, and switched stopping at their bedrooms. Until he stopped at Naka’s room, where he found Naka, looking out of the window and with his sister’s bed, which was completely messy. Tears of anger were visible across Naka's cheeks, as he would turn around and spot his long missed cousin…

Mura was laying on his bed the night after. He found out the unwished news; his cousin, Naka’s sister, was kidnapped. They even claimed that she might have been killed, already. This was a very rare experience for Mura, and despite that he hang around with dead people 24/7, it was still hard to the chest. Tears had flown across his cheeks too and that night, his face was feeling dry for tears. Not to think about his beloved cousin, Naka.

He didn’t understand anything; they tried to revenge one man’s life at the expense of a war. He could understand their feelings, now that he’d lost someone near as well. But still… it seemed very distant and illogical for him. He kept thinking about all this that happened so quickly, which kept him awake for a while, before his body couldn’t take it and fell asleep…

The next day, or that’s what Mura thought it was, he wiped his eyes and looked around his… wait, this wasn’t his bedroom. The first thing that he spotted was darkness and that he was laying on a very thin water level. Everything seemed grim and Mura was convinced that it might have been a dream. “What it this place…” he whispered for himself, standing up from the wet ground and looking around. He couldn’t see anyone, not even walls. The space was wide and felt infinite. He began to walk across the area, feeling that he didn’t get closer to anything. “What kind of dream is this?!” he spoke up, while thinking back to his previous day. Somehow, this space reminded him of the loss of Naka’s sister, which caused his breast to tremble. That was, when a figure appeared behind him…


“So that’s my descendant…” a strange, deep voice spoke. Mura looked shockingly around, spotting a weird, flying man in front of him. This weird-looking man was floating in the air, sitting in a cross-legged position. Black balls soared beneath him and a black staff-looking thing was seen on his back. He was wearing a kind of white cloak and his face didn’t look that normal either. He lifted his gaze at Mura, who was partly confused and anxious…

“… Who are you?” Mura calmly asked him. Whether if he was fully sure that this was a dream or something else, his curiosity was still sharp. The monk would look at him for a moment, then answered: “What makes you think that you’re sleeping? Or perhaps being awake?” Mura’s mind went blank there; what was he talking about? Was he trying to read Mura’s thoughts? “What are you talking about, you didn’t…” Mura was about to reply, before the man continued: “To so easily replace oneself with the term “dream”. You must get a mettled mind and fledge, until that you can distinguish reality and dream...” Mura felt like having one of those history lessons again, and this also reminded him of something disgusting; poems. While the monk continued his speech, Mura got so annoyed that he interrupted: “Could you please just tell me what’s happening right now? Who are you?” The monk would laugh a little when Mura asked that question, which left him questioning himself even more. “What I "was" sounds realistic… since I’m not familiar with your world anymore and have transferred to the afterlife. You're not sleeping. You're having a conversation in a space between death and life,” the monk replied, finally making sense for Mura, as he can see spirits. However, this death-and-life space thing sounded scary. So, this guy was a soul, which probably explains his floating appearance. “I was once a monk who travelled around the world and learned about the earth’s secret power, Onmyōdo. My name is Oeromo. I am also known as the Onmyōji.” Mura’s mind was confused once again; what was Onmyōdo? And he called himself an Onmyōji, which seemingly had to do with Onmyōdo, as it sounded similar. Mura couldn’t but hum with an open mouth at his reply. Oeromo smiled and said: “You might not be familiar with Onmyōdo. Judging by your life, I don’t blame you.”

The monk opened up his hand, and the staff that hanged on the back began to flow automatically towards his open palm, as he would grab it and slowly float towards Mura, who was pretty much too confused to speak right now. “I’ve been following your life up until now, young mage,” Oeromo spoke to him. Surprise emerged from Mura’s head, prompting him to ask: “Wait, have you been spying on me? As a spirit? How long?” The monk would simply look directly at his eyes, showing no signs of falsehood, and answered: “Since I found out that you were the next one. Which I realized a couple years ago…” What did he mean with “the next one”, now? The old monk could see on Mura’s face that he was questioning himself about that answer and continued: “Since my farewell, my generation has brought forth the magic of the planet by “reincarnation”. You’re the next one, Mura. You’re the next Onmyōji.” “Onmyōji… what is it? A type of magic?” Mura cautiously asked him. The monk tapped at the wet floor with his staff, creating small but wide waves that erupted from the contact. Mura’s eyes quickly moved towards the floor, while Oeromo replied: “I guess I owe you knowledge… about what exactly Onmyōdo is.”

The waves from the wet floor would quickly take shape of a giant sphere; with its green and blue colourings, it would resemble Earth at first sight. “Since the creation of planet Earth, it has produced nature energy, both directly and indirectly. The shaping of the mountains, seas; everything that you know. In addition, it produced something unknown, which you mages call “Ethernano”. So, to cut a long story short, the planet was the first to have Ethernano dwelling inside… and it created its own magic, which it used to shape itself,” the monk told. Mura was patiently listening to him, quickly forgetting all the confusion. He was convinced that the old monk would make it clear for him. Besides, this sounded interesting. Oeromo continued his story: “When humans began to absorb Ethernano, they achieved some fragments of the Earth’s magic. The power of the universal elements, Onmyōdo. However, as small as those fragments were, it rarely emerged from the new mages. I was the first human to discover this magic inside myself.” The old monk caused one of the black balls to soar towards his palm, and as it reached its position, he closed his hand. Suddenly, the black substance directly turned into floating liquid, water. “The Onmyōji has the ability to control and manifest these elements to his heart’s content,” Oeromo spoke up, while the floating liquid ball suddenly turned into a blazing fireball. Mura’s eyes couldn’t blink for a second; what powerful magic. “Wait… so you can do all that. Then, does that mean…” Mura began to ask, but the monk interrupted him, well knowing of what he would say. “That’s right, Mura Kensho. The same magic dwells inside of you…”

Now, Mura was getting a little excited. He had the same magic? The power to change and manifest the Earth’s elements at his will? That sounded awesome to him. “So I can do that too? Awesome..!” he surprisingly spoke up, “But why haven’t I realized it yet? The only magic that I’ve been able to control is my Spirit Bind Magic.” The old monk would clear his throat and reply: “You simply needed a catalyst. Basically, all mages have these fragments of Onmyōdo, but not everyone can awaken it. However, you seem to have more of those fragments than everyone else. That’s partly why I chose you to become the next Onmyōji…” Oeromo slowly soared closer to Mura, continuing: “After spectating my descendant’s life, you seem very wise. Worthy of being an Onmyōji. To be honest, people could learn a lot from your life… but I guess that it’s the first time that you encounter death of a relative, am I wrong..?” Mura suddenly closed his mouth, having a pretty heavy feeling. “… Yeah. It’s… ehm...” Mura had trouble bringing words out of his mouth right now, “This stupid war... it didn’t have to appear. I know that it's hard to accept a friend's death, but…” Oeromo would quickly see himself in Mura, as he had the same philosophy. “I understand you more than you think. Back in my ancient days, people used to breed conflict as well; in fact, even more than today. Remeber, this war of your family is only one of many ongoing wars right now; and it was worse back then. And with their ancient Magic, it caused so much tribulation and deaths. I tried my best to find a way out of it for them, with my own Magic. I didn’t want to use it as a weapon, but you should know that if you’re forced into experiences like these, then there aren’t any other ways out. I tried my best…” The old monk tipped at the wet floor once more with his staff, revealing a figure of his elder look; a cloaked warrior, more human-like than he looked now and with another figure in front of him. "Something interrupted me on my mission. You see... Earth is very miserly. It wanted to keep its Magic for itself back then; that's why it sent out a massive beast. This beast that had the same powers as an Onmyōji, the Beast of the Earth." He would look down to his flying feet, letting out a sigh, “I managed to calm down the planet's greed. But exchanged my own life for it... yet, I feel that I haven't achieved anything." "The Beast of the Earth? Do you mean some kind of summoning of Earth?" Mura asked the old sage. He looked up again. "Whatever it was, it was extremely powerful. Just like an Elder Dragon." The very depressed monk soared towards Mura again, "Even though my actions felt useless back then, I might be able to help you stop the ongoing war. You have the same Magic as me; however, there’s something else special about you. I can see your potential very clearly.” Mura looked up at him, smiling a little. “You really… want to help stop the dilemma? That would be a great help… ehm, Grand-grand-grand-grand…” He would get stuck in saying grand, until Oeromo stopped him. “Please. I feel responsible in putting an end to this conflict. But first, I have to ask you something…” The sage suddenly changed his facial expression, looking dead serious, “What do you desire in this life; after this war and when you return to Fairy Tail? I’ve watched you for a long time, yet your goal still is unknown to me. I'm quite curious.” This was a pretty serious question; what goal laid behind Mura’s life and actions? What did he seek after? He took a moment to think about it, when suddenly, Kyuken erupted from the water. “Master! There you are!” Kyuken spoke up, surprising Mura a lot, “I’ve heard everything, but it’s too dark to see anything down there… Phew.” “Wait, Kyuken? What are you doing here?” “He can’t deal five seconds without you nearby, Mura. Hahahahah!” a familiar voice laughed. It was Aiken, who emerged from the water as well. “Aiken?! Were you even with me before?!” Mura spoke up in surprise. It seemed that Aiken had followed him without permission, which wasn’t really unusual. They both looked at the old man. “Oh, who’s that? Your new spirit? Isn’t he too old to be a spirit, hehe?” Alkia cockily asked. The old man would look at him, while his eye brows twitched. “I’ve never liked you…” he said, while switching his gaze towards Mura again, “So, what’s your answer? About my previous question…” Mura remembered the question from before and felt that he had an answer. He looked into the monk’s eyes and said: “It's simple. I want to become the best swordsman in this world.” The old monk would look a little bored there, until Mura moved up his hand, pointing his thumb at his Guild Crest, “You see, I've learned how to treasure people, and I want to keep being able to do that. That’s why I want to become strong.” The monk looked at him for a moment, a little confused about his answer, then laughing as he realized the meaning. “I see… truly a nice guy, you are,” he said, grinning a little, “Then you must get ready for what comes in the future. Now, stand still.” The old sage lifted up both his hands, moving them towards Mura’s forehead. "You never know what might happen. Therefore, you shall know that." Suddenly, a giant emergence of magic power appeared around him, while it manifested as a giant beast that pointed its palms towards the new Onmyōji…

Mura suddenly found himself in a white world, completely empty. He looked around, feeling as lonely as when he appeared in that dark area before. Before he could ask himself about where he was, his ancestor appeared from the ground. Floating just like before, the monk introduced: “This shall be your training camp. Let’s see how good that you can control your new magic.” The old man lifted his open palm into the air, slowly manifesting something. Within a moment, the substance above his hand formed into a stone ball. The old monk moved his hand further into the air a little, launching the stone ball into space. “Huh? What was that..?” Mura asked the monk, who moved his face upwards. “Prepare!” he suddenly spoke up. Mura got a little startled, until he spotted the stone ball falling from the sky like a burning meteor. “WOAH!” came out of his mouth, as shocked as he was. The sage commented: “Use your power. Transform it!” Mura saw no other way than to listen to the sage. He lifted up his hand and let out the new magic power, which surrounded the meteor. In a brief moment, water poured down at Mura. He found himself at the ground, completely soaked. While coughing water out, he said: “That was… unbelievable. It doesn’t make sense *cough*; to turn fire into water. How does it hang together?” The floating sage soared around, while explaining: “It’s the cycle of nature; water conquers fire, extinguishes it. Simply, you turned fire into water as self-defence.” Mura didn’t get it, still. Was it something to do with magic power? “Fire feeds earth. Earth feeds metal. Metal feeds water, and water feeds wood. That’s the cycle of the planet,” the old monk explained, while lifting up his palm to reveal a pentagram on it, “The connection between the five natural elements that our planet consists of; wood, fire, earth, metal, water. They have conditions to each other in combat, and different conditions in feeding.” Mura was fascinated; that he could turn fire into water was one of those impossible facts that existed; well, not anymore. “Those who master these elements master the planet’s magic energy. They can change and manipulate it at one’s pleasure,” he continued, looking at Mura again, “And now, that ability belongs to you… great Onmyōji Mura Kensho.”

Mura’s eyes shone up. They were wide-open. He rose up of the bed like a catapult, hearing the sounds of clinging blades. He took a quick look out of the window and spotted that samurais were fighting against each other like a battle royal. “What is… happening!?” Mura spoke up in shock and moved out of the bed, grabbing Harusame and charged out of the window.

“GUYS, STOP!” he shouted as loud as possible, causing some samurais to look away and others to take advantage of that. The battle continued, ignoring Mura’s shout. While trying to find a way to stop all this, a samurai moved his blade towards Mura’s head, thinking that he might be reinforcements from the enemy. Mura spotted that of the corner of his eye, moving a hand towards the blade in order to brake it… wait, why was this guy using a tree sword? Completely shocked by the surprise of that samurai, Mura didn’t directly notice that his sword had turned into a long wood blade. The samurai would throw a sight on the blade, realizing the change and frighteningly step back. “What did you just do to Kiba?” the samurai confusingly asked him. Mura looked at the blade; it looked purely out of wood now. The other samurais that were allied with this one rushed to his assistance, thinking that he was hurt, but soon realize the blade’s change in nature. “Wait, it’s made out of wood…”, “A wood sword? Are you crazy?!” would erupt slowly from their different utterances. While studying the blade, Mrua realized that he just used his newly awakened magic...

The samurais would retreat after hearing the wood wielding one’s words; about Mura and what just happened. Fear was visible on their faces and in their worried attempt to run away. After a few seconds, they were gone, far away from the battlefield. Mura looked at his hand; he received a cut on the palm by that samurai and pressed his other hand on it, while his allies hastened to help. “Are you okay, Mura-dono?!” one of them asked. Mura looked up at them all; their faces were filled with worry. “I’m fine… why’d you guys fight them before?” he asked them calmly. It seemed to be obvious, though; that the Musashi’s were doing a sneak attack. The answers from the samurais confirmed that: “They were spotted 5 miles from here by our outposts, armed and armored. So we rushed in order to keep them away from the houses.” Mura’s face expressed a very sad feeling when he heard that. Although, somehow, he managed to scare them away himself and he speculated if that was due to his new magic that luckily worked there…

The next day, after returning to his bedroom and finally getting some sleep, he kept thinking about his magic. The expression from that samurai wasn’t of ignorance. He might have known what happened to him; he did tell them about Mura and something else. Maybe they knew about Onmyōdo? That would explain their frightened, yet promising faces. While he walked down the stairs to the living room, he spotted that not only his grandfather was waiting for him; a lot of Kensho’s were. “Good morning,” Mura addressed them, “… something wrong?” The old man looked at Mura with serious eyes. “Mura… about what happened this night…” he spoke up, walking towards his grandson, “You used your magic on a samurai, right? Can you show me exactly what you did?” Question marks would appear above Mura’s head, until he realized what he was talking about. Knowing what to do, he walked towards a couch and laid a hand on it, slowly concentrating. It took a little time now, but suddenly, the couch turned into pure water. The Kensho’s stepped back in surprise. “Is... this what you mean?” Mura asked his grandfather, “… It’s something that I awakened last night. Something called Onmyōdo.”

His granfather’s eyes shone, and so did the other Kensho’s’. “Did you say… Onmyōdo?” he slowly asked. It really appeared that he, and the others, knew about it as well. It was a legend, but was it that famous? “Yeah,” Mura answered them quickly, “Do you know about it? Is it famous?” The old veteran would sit down on a chair nearby, then answered: “Of course. Most families around this reign of Midi, including us Kensho’s and the Musashi’s as well, knows the legend. That the Onmyōji would appear once again and show the way to peace and order. I just…” He looked down for a moment, “I didn’t know that it would be you, dear grandson.” Mura was getting curious now; his upset face wasn’t a good sign. “What is it, Grandy?” Mura asked him. The old man seemed to have a feeling about something. “Do you remember the cause of these attacks from them? The one’s death that started all this? Apparently, he proclaimed himself as Onmyōji; just like you.” “Wait, is that why he was killed?!” Mura spoke up to him. Didn’t Oeromo tell something about that the magic moved through generations? And if it landed in his family, then how in the world would it appear in Musashi’s family as well? It left some theories in his head. “I’m not sure, but we all knew that this samurai was a swindler. He never truly showed us his legendary magic,” the old man replied, standing up again, “But now that we’ve seen you, Mura, then we’re not doubting at all. They should know about the man’s lies; his actions costed many lives, but they justified it for the cause of the “Onmyōji”. Now that we know the truth, the conflict can come to an end.”

Mura quickly thought about it; if the dead man was such a swindler, then they needed to tell the Musashi’s. And if they believed in them, then the conflict could finally end, just like his grandfather said. “But haven’t they realized it yet? That their Onmyōji tricked them?” Mura curiously asked him, “The battles are still going on…” The highly thinking grandfather thought about Mura’s question, then seemed to come up with an answer. “They’ve already seen your Onmyōdo, right? Or some of them, at least. They’ll most likely realize it sooner or later” he replied, nodding to the others around him, “We shall settle this as quickly as possible. Make sure that no Kensho’s blood is poured out until then…”

Mura was sleeping in his room again that night, thinking about the situation. Those samurais that he encountered before had all witnessed his magic; yet, there haven’t seemed to come any apparent reaction from the Musashi’s, who keep on the war. While thinking about how they could continue like this, he found himself falling asleep fast. All his thoughts slowly faded away in a dark pitch of sleep…

He saw himself in front of a figure, while sitting down on something wet; he had a very familiar feeling with all this. He quickly stood up, looking into the eyes of Oeromo; the ancestor that had visited Mura before in his dreams. “Huh? Is that you, grand-grand-grand-grand…” Mura began to try and pronounce all the “grand’s”, until Oeromo interrupted his ridiculous attempt. “You make me appear older than anything,” he complained, “Well, it’s true that I am old. And irrelevant, as well.” He moved up his staff again and pointed at Mura. “It’s time for your second training. Are you ready..?”

After nodding in an accepting manner, Oeromo tapped the floor with his staff. In an instant, the entire space turned bright, just like last time. He remembered his first training, and his eyes sparkled with excite. “You’ve already mastered your first ability… not bad,” the old man complimented him, “However, that was only the first step. Now, let’s see how much control that you have.” He soared away from Mura in a brief moment, leaving him within an area of over 30 meters in radius. “… Huh?” Mura looked over at the sage, “What shall I do now?” “Simple; make it rain,” the monk replied, leaving Mura with a few question marks above his head.

“… Do you mean with my magic?” he asked, just to make sure if he was astray. “Yes. Simply clap your hands together and concentrate. Significant things will happen,” Oeromo answered him with a voice that spread a little ease to Mura, making him think that it wasn’t that hard at all. He did as the sage said and clapped his hands together, trying to concentrate his magic. With closed eyes, he put all his thoughts into this training. If he could make it rain, it would happen. However, it didn’t happen at the beginning, as he would stand there, looking around for a second. “Nothing’s happening?” he worryingly asked. The sage put a fixed look on him and answered: “Not everyone learns directly. Try and focus on melting; this spell requires that you mix both Yin and Yang together in order to create a natural phenomenon.” Mura looked at his palms for a moment, discovering the Yin and Yang markings. “Oh… I think that I understand now,” he replied, “Alright, let’s try again!”

This time, he put effort in concentrating about the Yin and Yang powers within him, when clapping those hands together. By the quick view that he got, he could clearly see that by clapping his hands together, the two markings would form an almost perfect Yin-Yang symbol. So that’s what the old man meant about mixing those two powers. “I can feel it, grand-grand-grand-grand… grand…” Mura began to pronounce Oeromo’s family title, again. “Please don’t remind me of how many generations that has come after me…” he interrupted Mura, “Now, unleash that feeling of yours!” Mura focused his magic power into the centre of his two palms clapped together, which resulted in a thick magic appearance above Mura’s head. Even though that it had no specific form, it was visible as some pale, green mana. It charged into the sky and proceeded to expand in size, until it filled a giant area. Mura swiftly looked at it and at the old sage, curious of what would happen. “You’re not done!” Oeromo called his attention, “Now, focus and watch what will happen…” Mura began to focus even more, just as Oeromo told him, and to his great surprise, it began to rain. Pure, pale water fell down from the magic sky that he’d created. “Woah…” came out of his mouth, “Is that my doing?” The old sage nodded with a smile. “That’s right. Now, change its nature,” he continued. Mura looked up at the cloud, thinking of what nature that he should change it into. Before he knew it, he accidently changed it into raining fire…

"WARGH!"

After dramatically opening up his eyes, in the middle of the night, Mura realized that he was just dreaming; or partly dreaming. Man, it was close. He could’ve ended up getting crisped by his own spell back there. The sweat dropped down his face in a very comical way. “Phew… that was close,” he commented, “But hey, I’m getting better and better.” He began to smile a lot, realizing that he’s improving. Kyuken appeared beside him right after. “That’s right, master! You’ll master this magic in no time!” he cheered him. Mura looked up at him, then suddenly, his face turned a little wry. “Huh? Something wrong, Mura?” Kyuken asked him. Mura didn’t want him to worry, so he lied: “Nothing. Let’s just go to sleep…” He just remembered about his cousin; every time that he wanted to be happy, he couldn’t forget her usually happy face. Especially not the smile of hers when he arrived a couple days ago…

After an hour of rest, Mura finally decided to make a move; he couldn’t just wait for the Musashi’s to realize the uselessness of this war. He stood up and prepared his gear, which consisted of Harusame, a full set of hardened leather scale armour and equipment to assist him on his mission. While taking all this on, he tried his best to do it discreetly, so that nobody would hear him go out alone. But when he was finally ready and sneaked out of the door, to his surprise, he spotted Naka waiting for him…

“Hah… I knew it,” Naka commented Mura’s appearance, “You’re going to convince the Musashi’s to end this, right?” Something was different with his attitude and voice; it didn’t sound as prideful as Naka used to be. Mura could see that it might have been the cause of Naka’s loss of his sister. “If you’re going over there, whether if you want it or not,” he began to speak up, walking closer to Mura, “I’m going with you.” Mura’s face changed into a pretty serious/shocked look. Why did he want to accompany Mura? He didn’t want to cause any more loss of people. “Are you telling me…” Mura replied, looking directly into Naka’s eyes, “That you want revenge?” Naka’s eyes twitched with anger, like if Mura said something wrong. “You don’t know if she’s alive or not,” he commented angrily, “But if she’s out there, I might still have a chance to save her. Now, are you okay with it or not?” After hearing such announcement from Naka, Mura felt a warm touch in his heart. There might still be hope for his cousin, and if she really was alive, then having Naka with him might be a good idea. “… Okay. Let’s go now, Naka,” Mura commanded and headed out of the window, followed by his cousin.

They rushed smoothly across the landscapes’ grass in a very samurai-like way; with almost no sound erupting from their running feet. Mura was wearing his red leather plate armour and with Harusame on his side, while followed by Naka, who wore a black leather scaled armour and with his daisho-set; a katana and a short Wakizashi-sword. While they were rushing to the Musashi’s households, Mura looked over at Naka, who expressed 100% determination to save his sister, despite their ignorance of whether she really was alive or not. To him, that showed a true brother’s feelings for his sibling, and Mura felt a little happy for his cousin to have such a caring brother…

The grass blew peacefully with the background of the night sky. Mura and Naka were rushing to try to see, if Mura’s cousin and Naka’s sister was still alive. It took a while, but they managed to move without being noticed by the others. Mura spent the time telling Naka about his doings, when he was at Fiore. “Huh?” Naka was indeed very impressed, “That’s amazing… to stand up against vampires like that.” Mura couldn’t help but smiling. “Yeah… I’ve experienced a lot. You should come and visit me once in a while,” he replied to Naka. It would be nice to have more of his family members to visit him back at Magnolia, instead of only his father.

They arrived at a landscape where they could see the buildings that belonged to the family of Musashi, when their samurais approached. How many were there? The answer seemed to be about hundreds. Naka’s and Mura’s eyes were wide-open. “Woah, how many are there?” Mura commented the sight, while Naka would be completely shocked. Mura threw a look at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll use my magic,” he spoke to him. Naka slowly grabbed his daisho, while looking at Mura. “Alright, then. Show me it,” he replied to Mura. Naka needed an opening to get into the nearest buildings, so Mura’s job was to scatter the many warriors. He nodded at Naka and watched him slowly move back, waiting for Mura’s move. He focused his look on the army and rapidly charged towards them, causing a great war cry to erupt from their mouths…

“Kyuken!” Mura spoke up to his fellow spirit, indicating him to help. Kyuken nodded and emerged with Mura, causing a light to erupt from his body as he approached the army. As the light shone the strongest, he collided with the peak of the army, and caused them to fly in the air. He was like a train, instantly launching them all away with the power of Kyuken’s swordsmanship. They all tried to approach him with their katanas, but he smoothly dodged them all and even caused some of them to hit each other. He unsheathed Harusame, slicing through a samurai’s armor and making him fall back, while using his body as a platform to perform a backflip over another enemy. Mura landed behind him, kicking another one behind him away and sending a slash through the first one’s back. He would continue scattering them from one group to a lot of small groups trying to take him down. He swiftly swung Harusame around with almost inhuman reflexes and speed, resembling the legendary samurai. As he spotted them closing up on him, he rapidly spinned his body around with Harusame outstretched, causing a hurricane to appear. “Kyuken-ryu!” he roared, “Taiga!” The hurricane would raise a giant group of samurais near him, sending them up into the air. He would quickly look back at Naka, who saw an opening and rushed through. Some samurais charged at him, but Naka wasn’t that helpless; he unsheathed his katana and cut off the samurais’ helmets, causing scars to appear on their faces. They fell back and let Naka pass…
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Spells Used:

While Mura was kicking all those samurais’ butts, Naka had infiltrated the Musashi’s outskirts. He wasted no time and searched every single building in the dark of night to find his sister. The stars shone down at their heads, as the fight went on between Mura and an entire collection of samurais. “This takes so long…” Mura commented the battle. Kyuken would watch as well, despite being infused with Mura. “Master, what are you planning to do now?” he curiously asked Mura, “They’re my descendants; it’s obvious that they never give up.” Mura suddenly shone, getting an idea. He jumped on one of the samurai’s bodies to leap backwards and land a few meters away from them all. “I’ve been training for a while now, Kyuken,” Mura spoke up, while watching the army charge at him with battle cries, “It’s time to show them the true power of the Onmyōji.” He would lift his hand and slam the palm on the ground beneath him, slowly waiting for the samurais to come near him. When they all were close enough, the ground beneath them changed in nature; from earth to pure water. They all fell into a deep pool of hydrogen dioxide.

“Did you see this?!” Mura shouted at the ones further away from him, “Tell your leader that your so-called “Onmyōji” is a faker. Stop this nonsense…” The warriors turned their heads around in confusion and horror by his move. Some of them slowly convinced themselves that this guy was for real, until a strange person appeared in the middle. This person was easy to spot; that armour wasn’t common. That was their general himself, or rather, the Shogun of Musashi…

He kept his eyes on the Shogun for a while. Even Mura was getting a little worried; these guys didn’t seem much of a challenge, but this general could easily outmatch Mura. At least, that was his conviction. “… Shogun?” Mura spoke up to him. The strange warrior grabbed his shaft. “I see… you’re the young samurai who denied his family’s traditions, right?” he replied to Mura, whose eyes were filled with shock by that statement. What he just said there was pretty provoking, yet Mura was already determined that he had to fight him; at least, until things were settled between the Kensho’s and the Musashi’s. He didn’t know if any of this would cause any effect on the Musashi’s, despite what he just showed them.

“You might be mistaken,” Mura commented, “But I haven’t given up my family’s tradition. Besides, you saw me earlier, didn’t you?” He referred to his Onmyōdo spell before, “You’ve seen my magic, so let me make this clear; your Onmyōji was a fake.” The Shogun shrugged at Mura’s statement, slowly approaching him. When standing 10 meters away from Mura, he replied: “I’m aware of that, boy. I’ve always been. But why do you think that I didn’t say anything..? Try and figure out.” Mura sent an intimidating look at the Shogun, slowly moving up Harusame. The Shogun would laugh and say: “The time has come… for your family and our family to clash, once and for all!!!” A huge roar could be heard from the samurais behind the Shogun, as they were unaware of all this. The Shogun knew about the trickery; seemingly, he just wanted a good reason to wage war on the Kensho’s.

“No…” Mura slowly spoke up angrily. It took a second to move up on the Shogun, surprising him, “Have you lost your mind?!” He sent a piercing kick to the general’s stomach, launching him several meters back. The Shogun, though, would brake with his feet and still stand up like if nothing happened. He rapidly pulled up his blades, challenging Mura to a duel. “It’s time for our family to claim what is rightfully ours!” he shouted, charging at Mura with astonishing speed, “That sword doesn’t belong to you! You hear me?!” Mura quickly jumped back, only to spot a fierce volley of stabs and slashes from the Shogun, all happening in inhuman speed. Mura managed to block his katana, swiftly pushing it away and swinging Harusame towards the Shogun, who quickly blocked it with his shorter katana. Just like Naka, he used a daisho; a combination of two katanas of different lengths , used in amazing sword art. Mura saw that both of Shogun’s hands were busy, and quickly charged a head-butt towards the Shogun’s kabuto in order to push him away. But he seemed to take the hit without even flinching. “Why, you..!” Mura spoke up to him, “Don’t you see the stupidity in all this? Why start an entire war because of a sword?!” The Shogun let out a laugh and replied: “That sword isn’t just a sword, and you know that! That sword has powers beyond a samurai’s fullest potential and it belongs…” He quickly sent a fierce combo, containing a slash through Mura’s hip, then a tough kick that broke his ribs, “… to us!”

All of a sudden, everything went silent for Mura. The atmosphere, the sounds and everything around him faded away. Was he hit? What happened to him? He couldn’t fall now; what about Naka? And his sister? What about the others…

He looked around. The atmosphere was very familiar; the same darkness that he encountered a couple times before. Which meant… “That was close,” a familiar voice said. Mura looked behind him, spotting his grand-grand-grand-grand-grand… forget that. It was his ancestor, Oeromo. “’Close’? What do you mean?” Mura curiously asked him, “… Oh god, am I dead?” He began to panic a little; this was an unnecessary death, just like all other deaths of this stupid war. “You’re not dead, calm down,” Oeromo assured him, “I just called your soul to this realm at the last second… You’re fighting some Shogun, am I right?” Mura nodded; he was in the middle of fighting the general of Musashi. However, what now? Was the battle still going on, or did time stop? “It’s time… for your last training, my descendant,” the old sage declared, “This will surely take a long time; therefore, I interrupted you now.” Mura glanced upon the monk, complaining: “But what about Naka? And the battle… “ He looked around in confusion, as the old monk soared in peace. “If you truly want to help me, then let’s begin now. Time has went. You need to learn this,” he replied, soaring closer to Mura, “Yin and Yang is at your disposal.”

Mura looked impatiently at the old mage. What did he mean with Yin and Yang? As far as Mura knew, those two concepts were the universal heterogeneities; like fire and water, man and woman, literally everything that had an antonym or opposition originated from Yin and Yang; the universal element. Now that this old man said that Mura had it at his disposal, he seemed to mean that Mura could control that too. “… Yin and Yang… so I can also control that?” he calmly asked the old sage, calming down from his anxiousness from earlier. “Yes, yes. Try now, young descendant. You need the time that you have now in order to master it,” Oeromo stated. Mura looked up at him and then turned his gaze at his two palms, looking at the markings of Yin and Yang…

He clapped them together; just like he did before. “Let’s hurry up,” Mura spoke to him, hoping that this would go fast. It was quite unusual for Mura to be so impatient; however, he did have good reasons to be anxious. As he hopefully waited to create an effect on his training right now, disappointment took over; nothing happened. “Argh, come on…” he complained, catching a glance from the old man. “Training takes patience, Mura-chan. You know that,” he replied to his descendant, “But if your heart is troublesome, then no benefits shall come to you. Stay calm.” Mura took a second to inhale, and then nodded to the wise sage’s words. He clapped his hands together instinctively and concentrated. “…” Sweatdrops began to pour down his face; this kind of magic was tough to make. He could see now, why it was classified as “last training”; it was at a completely different magnitude and pressure than the others.

Hours went, and Mura managed to create a little cube of pure… something. It seemed to be the result of Yin and Yang combined. “Is this… good enough?” Mura asked the old man, who took a quick look at the orb. “Still not enough. Remember that I can form this much of it,” he replied, showing his floating balls of the same substance, “It’ll be useful, I tell you. A hardened element with no weaknesses. Although, I wouldn’t call it indestructible.” Mura’s head tilted by the last sentence.

While training, thoughts passed his mind; how was it going for the other guild members? Maybe Heero was out on other adventures, similar to their own little vampire trip. What about those that he didn’t get to know better, when he left? He decided to actually learn more people to know when he got back to the guild. All of a sudden, he realized that the sage was trapped in a giant cube of Yin-Yang substance. “Huh?!” Mura spoke up in surprise, “Was that me?” The sage smoothly soared through the cube. “It seems that you found a good catalyst for Yin and Yang; thoughts,” the sage replied to him. He must’ve paid attention to Mura’s constant nodding and expressing thinking. “Oh… that’s right,” Mura said to the floating monk, while scratching his hair, “You know about Fairy Tail, right? That’s my guild; and pretty much my family, hehe.” The sage focused his gaze at Mura’s eyes, when he began to talk about his guild mates. He compeltely forgot about the training. “I can still remember it… the first day that I joined. Since then, my entire life has been amazing,” he told. All of a sudden, Kyuken appeared behind Mura; it appeared that he was aware of his presence, when he continued: “You can just ask Kyuken; how do you feel, buddy?” The spirit samurai slowly shaped his lower body, replying: “Master. We’ve been together for 6 years now, and I’ve experienced a lot, and I’m still experiencing. Even more than any samurai can expect.” The samurai switched his look to the sage, “And it won’t change… never.”

“Such history shapes a warrior like you… I’m glad,” the sage suddenly spoke up, “I’m glad to see one like you walking on this planet.” Mura blushed a little, scratching his neck. A legend is praising him; that’s amazing. “It seems… that my conversations with you has come to an end…” the sage spoke up. Mura looked up at him. “Yeah…” he replied, looking down for a second, “But thanks. Thanks for everything.” He held out a hand to handshake him as a farewell, but got surprised by the sage’s approach; he laid a hand on Mura’s head. “Hehe… I haven’t spoken with you that much, and I wish that I could continue. But I need to wait and save my energy… for later,“ he told Mura, as the atmosphre slowly changed and trembled the space. Mura felt dizzy for a second and ended by collapsing…

He stood up from the wet ground, strangely looking around. He could see grass, the stars, the moon, and he could also hear roars and clashes of blades. He quickly jumped up on his feet and searched around, looking for the Shogun; in fact, he stood right in front of him. “Hm? How did you stand up again?” the Shogun asked, “But you should be…” He quickly spotted that the cuts on Mura’s torso, where the Shogun successfully hit him, didn’t cut that deep and caused no fatal damage. “Woah, I’m lucky,” Mura replied, wiping sweat off his forehead. The Shogun’s face itched with anger, causing him to charge at Mura once again. This time, Mura counted with his new power; a long blade made out of Yin-Yang substance that he used to block the katana. “Huh?!” the Shogun spoke up in confusion, “Is that your magic?! Shame on you!” Mura harshly pushed the Shogun back by a kick to the stomach, having a serious look on his face. “Shame on me, huh? You should look at yourself right now…” Mura provoked him angrily, “What sane man starts a war over a sword? Come on.”