But it wasn’t something so superficial. The ritual today held meaning far beyond anything those of weak wills could understand. Satori’s gaze stared down at his large hands, still too bulky for his long limbs, his body disproportioned due to his growth spurts. Long limbs, large hands, a short torso. A body somewhere between an adult and child.
Despite this, anyone that me the boy knew he was already an adult mentally. Philosophical and a warrior to the core, there was barely a shred of childish ideals within him. This was proven by the fact he did not feel fear or foreboding from the idea of what was to come today, but excitement.
This ritual was that of life, and death. As a child, he had already gone through the adulthood ritual. Forced alone into the wilderness in the heart of winter, with nothing more than the skin on his back and the claws on his fingertips. He’d been forced to survive for six months, alone like that. Building tools using the bones of animals he trapped and killed. Pushed to his limit physically, and mentally.
A slight smile formed on his lips. He fondly remembered those months of peace. Others feared it, or perhaps hated the idea of it, but not a Ryuutei. Being so close to nature, to their instincts, alone and secluded with nothing to do but survive; it was therapeutic. There was a reason their clan’s compound resided at the edge of the border of the village.
Aside from the fact it made them the first target, that they were the first line of defense for the village, aside from the fact the village didn’t want a clan of cannibals living so close to their borders. No, there was a greater and simpler reason: the Ryuutei didn’t want to be close. Too loud, too noisy, and too far from nature.
That therapeutic thought helped relax Satori, as he slowly pushed himself to his feet from his seat on the bedroll. The large home his family lived in granting him his own room, though he’d had to build it himself with his fathers help. Moving toward the door his mind drifted toward the trial to come.
Today was the day that he took the life of another human. Yet he felt nothing. It was the way of life, and of nature, after all. He was more curious about how his adopted sister, Midori, was holding up. Though he doubted she was too shaken up. Even if she wasn’t a Ryuutei by blood, the girl had the mentality of one all the same. He pushed the sliding door open and entered out into the large homes central hallway. He could hear the yawning of his other sisters waking up in their rooms.
The first to rise, as usual, it would seem.