-Here in the hills I bade you farewell-
for the dinners we wont have
-Now by dusk I close the twiggen door-
for the memories we won't make
-Oh grass will again be green next spring-
for the wrongs we've been done
-Might you my beloved be back once more?-
After chanting this poem in drowned sorrow I headed back to my twiggen house where the twonfolks ate the rice balls I prepared, the smell of burnt incense filled my nose with a sweet caress the same way the wine caressed my bathered spirit -I want to thank you all for coming... I-I am not sad, mom and dad are finally together, just like now they rest besides eachother above the hill with the landscape they loved now I am certain they are together in the afterlife with the greatest landscape one can imagine- with that I sat in a corner of the house lost in my thoughts, my hands shaking maybe for the cold of the night, maybe because of the exhustion of the battle or maybe because of the rage building within me -what comes next?- asked the town chief as he sat besides me and patted my back, -drink some- he said as he poured me some wine, I meditated his question for some moments, what comes next? what should come next? what would mother want to come next? it was all too heavy for my head right now, -What I am gonna do? I am to live between the sweet scents of herbs, I am gonna seek a wife's love and children laughter?...or that is what I hoped I could do...but I can't...not when one of them scaped, not when I have this burning desire to kill, desire to make them pay, I swear on the martial arts my father taught me, I swear on the painful training my mother inflicted on me, I swear on the lessons of chivalry and justice my father told me, and I swear on the two times my mother gifted me life...I swear I will bring them to justice, I couldn't save mother, but I will at least make sure she is the last person they harm...I WILL AVENGE MY MOTHER; THAT IS WHAT COMES NEXT- I stood there, the passion consumed me as I lost control before everyone, the crowd mantained a heavy silence until the physician stepped forward and handed me a package of different medicinal herbs and nodded solemnly, his shaking hands reflected both his years of service and experience -farewells-, the local butcher broke the silence saying -your father taught me the value of blades, whether to feed or to kill, take this; it's my trusted knife-, finally the town leader stood from the chair besides me and unsheathed his sword -the way your father gave me the tools to defend this village in the shape of martial knowledge now I humbly give you my sword as your mean, as your tool to bring justice, but bear in mind Wuxing that what cuts isn't the iron but the virtue and will of the wielder- "mom...dad, just how many lives did you touch around here?" and so the rest of the hours went by between farewells and gifts, between sobs, laughter and forgotten memories, I packed all the presents as everyone began to leave, the sky darknened and so the last guest left, I lastly headed to the graves of my parents -as your son...on the name and sourname I was given I swear to avenge this...- when the first rays of light washed the hill and my parents' graves I stood up, like that I departed, like that my journey begins.