THE LAST KEEPER-Chapter 106. NOKAI

sagiri followed Nvaru's instructions amidst the chaos, and he forced his mind into meditative slumber. He needed to relax so that his mind would not fight with the broken images in his memory.

A hand was carrying a blade. the same blade he was holding now. The hand's owner was standing in the middle of the desert holding the handle at the centre of two blades. The blade glimmered even more dangerously with every touch under the sun. It was even longer now, longer than the man holding it. It was as if the blade always grew to fit the wielder.

The man is covered in brown clothes, the colour of the desert. The only thing sagiri can see are his eyes, and they are red, just like sagiri's left eye, which is always covered in an eye veil that merged seamlessly with his eyeball. He had never taken it off since Bakuru gave it to him.

The man is not hiding his red eyes, and he, in fact, looks eyes in front proudly. The blade he wielded touched the sand under him, making it rise with it, making a swirl of sand around him. With every move he makes, the sand responds, and it dances with him as if they are one.

sagiri feels so much kinship with the man, and when the man spins the blade and turns around in his place, now there is a woman wielding the blades he wielded them with so much vigour, just as the man and the sun danced with her elegant moves as if the dance was meant for the desert. She smiled widely as the sand around her formed shapes around her made by the moves of the desert.

She moved again and again, and when she turned around, it was a man wielding the blade again, then another man, then a woman. Just like what happened when sagiri wielded the bow and arrow that day and touched the words engraved on it. When he had seen the very history of that blade, how it had been passed down from generations. It was as if he were going through the history of the blade he wielded. the red eyes strangers in his echo reflections must have been the wielders of the blade. Now thinking about it, he did not yet know the name of the blade. It was as if with every person it was passed down to a name that sat on sagiri's mouth, yet he could not yet find it.

The exchange continued, and they all wore the same brown that matched the desert as if they had risen from the very desert itself. Now that he was not fighting the echo reflection, it did not hurt his head. It was as if giving in was taking him, father, into the archive memories. Finally, the blade was handed to a woman, and sagiri had seen this woman again and again. The woman had a striking appearance to him.

Her movements are even more elegant as if she had elevated and added to the moves, and the desert around her danced with her. To him, she was the strongest wielder of the blade, and he was not even fighting the echoes now. He had willingly surrendered to her dance.

She spun the blade on top of her head and behind her back before she jumped backwards as if she did not need her hands to be propelled through the air. As if the desert was aiding in her moves, making her seem like she was floating in the air whenever she jumped. He could even hear the desert's excitement as she danced. The dance started slow and elegant, but grew faster and more violent, yet it did not elude any violence. No move in the dance was made to kill, and every move seemed like it was meant to please the desert.

The more she danced, the more sagiri wanted to dance. Everyone who had gathered was now looking at him, wondering why he had wailed in pain, then sat in silence. total silence. It had been a few minutes to them, but sagiri had been watching the dance for months as the blade was handed over. Just like with bow and arrow, he was it was as if he merged with her rhythm. His hand stretched out and grabbed the blade, suddenly making everyone who had gathered move back. The blades responded to his touch and snapped out, and the snap was even stronger now. He still sat, but everyone moved a few feet away from him as if they were watching something bizarre happen in front of him.

The tension around him rose, and she was suddenly aware that he was standing in the desert band he had never such a sense of belonging and oneness with a place and even kinship with the woman. It was as if for the first time, he was begging to understand the blades. He was not in the arena anymore, and he was sitting in the middle of the desert. His eyes were red now, and there he did not have to hide the red eye. he had never felt so free as if he was not carrying the weight of the entire world.

He did not have to learn this dance because he somehow already knew it. Unlike the sword and spear dances and other weapon dances, this one he did not have to learn, and yet it was the dance he knew most. Still with the forest green sash covering his eyes, he suddenly stood to his feet and got into position to start the dance, just like the handlers of people that he had seen in the echo reflection. The woman stood in front of him in a starting position again, and he got into position behind him.

As if announcing the dance, he sank low with the woman, and after a second, they both moved. The desert around them rose to meet them. It rose even higher, and sagiri moved easily. In the arena, the cadets and the instructors had moved further back as they watched him dance. It was clear they had never seen such a dance, but they could not deny the beauty. To add to the beauty was the blindfold on his eyes, making it more melancholic and beautiful. The arena was completely silent as they watched the boy move in a dance they had never seen before. Everyone held curiosity and questions, yet no one dared speak or move their eyes from him as if they were enchanted by the dance. Even Matasi did not move to stop the dance, nor did Salka and senraki who were standing the closest to sagiri's position.

Just like the woman sagiri seemed like he was floating. The dance started slowly and then grew more violent. The blades cut through the air violently, yet the blade and the moves held no killing intent. It was a dance that felt like time itself. He bent his body backwards, but he did not need support, nor did he need the support of his blade. He held the position for a while before he stood up and spun around with the blade.

just like the woman in the reflection, he threw the blade into the air, where it spun around for a while, lifting the sand around him in circular motion, before it started to land. Sagiri jumped in the air to meet it halfway, and it landed on his hand. They both spun around a few times before he landed softly, facing forward, where the woman was. In the arena, however, he was looking right at Salka and sagiri. The desert around them calmed down with the end of the dance, and the woman vanished as if officially handing over the blades to him.

sagiri bowed slightly to the place the woman had been standing. As if he needed to finish the dance to finally know the name of the sword, he finally knew its name.

Nokai, the last whisper.

"Nokai," he whispered, and he could feel the blade responding to him finally. It hummed silently in his arms, making the echo stir violently in response before the blades snapped back into the handle.

He suddenly felt boneless as the world around him came crushing to him with the hundreds of eyes watching him. he had not been aware of them as he danced in the desert. He could still feel the desert around him, and he had never felt so distant from everyone as in that moment. Everyone felt faceless, and he wished he could be back in that desert and not in the arena with the three hundred or fewer people. He had also never been so at peace and felt more connected with Nokai.

Perhaps Nokai had not been responding to him because they had just been strangers till then. now however, they were one.

The dance and the echo reflections had exhausted him completely, and he felt as if he were made of rubber. The blade fell from his hands, and he fell backwards, boneless, and the world went black.