35 Years Ago... [Inka’s Perspective - Flashback]

  In a dusty training courtyard, under the scorching noon sun.

  I was holding a wooden sword (Bokken) larger than my size, swinging it with all my effort, my small webbed feet struggling to stay firm on the ground. I was a Kappa. A small, green monster, smelling of the swamp. And atop my head, in the natural bony indentation that distinguishes my race, was the saucer filled with water, swaying with every sword strike, but I fought to keep it balanced.

  In my mind, I wasn't a monster. I was a Samurai.

  On the side stood a few Samurai of the clan, whispering and laughing, their voices piercing through my concentration.

  As expected from our foolish lord... he wants to make a Kappa a Samurai? He has finally lost his mind. This thing belongs in a cage, not in a dojo. I can't believe I serve a lord who prefers monsters over humans.

  I froze. Blood boiled in my cold veins. The water atop my head rippled violently. Suddenly, I leaped toward them, my wooden sword raised.

  Don't speak of my lord! I screamed with a voice that combined the croak of a frog and the roar of a child.

  One of them kicked me indifferently, as if pushing a stone out of his path. You damn frog!

  They gathered around me. Kicks began to rain down. I wasn't resisting to protect myself; I was resisting to protect his name.

  Don't speak of my lord! I screamed as I took a kick to my stomach. He is more of a Samurai than all of you! You are nothing but honorless trash!

  They finished with me. They left me a green, bloody heap on the dirt, my face swollen, and the water in my head saucer muddied with blood and dust, reduced to half. I felt a profound weakness spreading through my limbs; for my life is bound to this water.

  I cried. Not from the pain, but from the humiliation.

  Aren't you Samurai? I muttered with a broken voice. How can you speak like this about the man you serve? Do you have no honor or loyalty?

  Then... a shadow blocked the sun from me. I looked up.

  A drunkard, wearing tattered Ronin clothes, his hair unkempt. It was Morito. He was drinking from a sake jar, looking at me and the murky water atop my head with disdain.

  Oh... a Kappa! I haven't seen one in a long time.

  I shouted at him: Get away from me, you drunkard, before I curse you!

  He took another swig, wiped his mouth, and said coldly: Curse me? You? A little Kappa who can't even defend his lord’s name? Look at yourself, your water is evaporating, and you are dying slowly in the dirt.

  He leaned toward me, the smell of alcohol suffocating my breath: Your lord will die, and his name will be erased, and you will stay here crying until your saucer dries up.

  I screamed with all the sorrow in the world: If they came to me ten years from now, I would kill them one by one! I will protect his name!

  The drunkard laughed, a dry and harsh laugh: Ten years? And will your lord even exist ten years from now with a weak guardian like you?

  Suddenly, I lost my mind. I leaped and grabbed his leg, biting it with all my strength. Don't speak of my lord!

  Morito said with boredom: Oi... you Kappa... get off.

  He tried to shake me off by moving his leg, but I was clinging on like a snapping turtle. Don't speak ill of my lord, you frog! Get off!

  He moved his leg, this time with force. I flew through the air like a rag doll. The water spilled from atop my head like a spray, and I slammed into the stone wall of the palace. Darkness fell. I felt a lethal dryness invading my body before I lost consciousness. The last thing I heard was a voice saying: Damn... I overdid my strength a bit.

  I woke up. I was in a warm room, the smell of medicinal herbs filling the place. I was wrapped in bandages like a mummy. The first thing I checked was my head. The saucer was full of clean, pure water. I felt life coursing through my veins again.

  Then I heard the voice of my lord, Matsudaira Hirotada, shouting in the adjacent room. I had never heard him shout before.

  Curse you, old man! He is a small Kappa! Were you trying to kill him?!

  A drunk voice replied with provocative indifference: I told you I’m sorry, I did it by mistake. And here he is, still alive... I filled his saucer with water, didn't I? Why are you so angry?

  Ah! I don't feel a shred of regret from your mouth! I swear the rumors about the Eternal Guardian of Nippon didn't do justice to your idiety and cruelty!

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I tried to sit up. I groaned in pain. My lord rushed in. He turned toward me, his face full of worry. I screamed, tears streaming from my eyes, flowing upward to mix with the water in my head saucer and increase it:

  My lord! It's my fault! Because I am weak! This is my fault! You shouldn't tire yourself over me... you shouldn't have even treated me with all these precious materials... I am just a monster...

  Matsudaira Hirotada let out a long sigh and sat beside me on the bed. Kappa... didn't I tell you not to say that you tire me? These materials are worth nothing compared to your life. But my lord... No buts.

  He sighed again, then did something I never imagined. He turned his back to me. Climb on. My lord? I said climb on my back. I will carry you. My lord! You shouldn't carry me! I am the one who should carry you! This is a disgrace! And I will wet your clothes! You are injured. Therefore, I will carry you. And I don't want to hear any objections. Do you understand? What Samurai objects to his lord's orders?

  I fell silent. I climbed onto his back cautiously, afraid of dirtying his fine clothes with my damp skin. He carried me out of the room. He walked in a strange way... soft, fluid steps, resembling the gait of Ninja warriors. His shoulders never shook.

  I realized suddenly why. He walked like this so as not to spill a single drop of the water in my head saucer. I buried my face in his shoulder and cried silently.

  People, servants, and Samurai were looking at my lord as he carried the monster on his back. Their gazes were arrows of disgust and mockery. I am insulting my lord... what a shame.

  My lord... where are you taking me? He smiled, and I felt his smile in his voice: I am taking you to the place I love most in this world.

  We walked and walked, until we reached the back part of the palace. The scene changed. The manicured gardens disappeared, replaced by barren land. We reached the palace’s Dead Garden. The trees were dead, decayed, black as charcoal, their branches twisted like skeletal fingers. There was no life here. No one liked to come here. The smell of cold ash and death wafted through the place.

  We reached the center of the garden. Before us was a single, very massive tree; its trunk was still there, but it was cut down. My lord lowered me to the ground with extreme gentleness, ensuring once again that the water in my saucer hadn't spilled. He sat beside me on the dead root and said:

  Kappa... do you remember the first day you came here? Yes, my lord. How could I forget? I was afraid you would kill me... but you gave me clothes and food, and you poured the water on my head with your own hand.

  Matsudaira smiled and gestured with his hand to the gloomy garden: Do you see this place as beautiful? I looked around. The ruin. The blackness. I said with childish enthusiasm to please him: I swear to you, my lord... when I grow up, I will plant for you the largest garden in Nippon! It will have all kinds of beautiful trees and flowers! I will cover this blackness with colors!

  Matsudaira looked at me with eyes shimmering with sad wisdom, and said: I see this garden as more beautiful than any garden you will make for me, Kappa. He touched the burnt trunk with his hand. This garden... in an ancient time... was a paradise.

  It was said it was the only garden in Nippon that contained all kinds of trees on the island. And this tree... was a sacred tree since the time of the Goddess. Impossible, my lord... it is dead. Yes. But what distinguishes it is not its age or its size. What distinguishes it is its end.

  He looked at me seriously: This tree decided to sacrifice itself. When a famine struck the people of the land, it decided to sacrifice itself for the people who cared for it. It is a true Samurai.

  I looked at my lord in awe. My lord... can a tree become a Samurai? Is it recognized?

  He smiled, reached out, and placed his hand over my small heart that beat fast under my ribs: Becoming a Samurai is not about people's recognition of you as a Samurai. A Samurai is not a sword nor a shield. When your heart chooses to protect, to sacrifice, and to serve with honor... then you are a true Samurai. Even Kappa, and even trees... they have hearts. Therefore, why can't you become a Samurai?

  I looked with hope and pride toward the tree, and toward my lord. I felt my chest expanding to carry the world. My lord... what was the name of the Tree Samurai? He smiled and said: Inka. And from today... you will inherit the name and pride of this great tree. Your name is Inka.

  Inka... I am Inka... I am Inka. I repeated the name as if it were a magic spell. Yes... you are Inka.

  I burst into tears. My tears flowed profusely, salty waterfalls rising and filling the saucer atop my head until it overflowed its sides, pure water washing the blood of the previous battle. I hugged him, wetting his clothes with my tears and my water.

  My lord laughed and patted my head cautiously: Ah... I don't believe it. How can a Kappa carrying the name of a great Samurai like Inka cry like this? It seems you will have a long road until you become a solid Samurai.

  I cried more and said: My lord... this is the last time you will carry me. Next time... I will carry you! I won't let you even try to walk! I will be like a carriage for you! I will carry you all my life!

  Matsudaira Hirotada began to laugh loudly in the dead garden: Certainly... certainly, Inka.

  Days after that incident... I was training in the courtyard alone, at night. I must become stronger. I must become stronger for the sake of protecting my lord's village. I will be the guardian of this village, and I will be my lord's sword.

  You are wasting your time, Kappa.

  I looked back. It was that drunken bastard Morito sitting on the wall, drinking and watching me. I can't believe this man is the Eternal Guardian of Nippon. Truly, the rumors didn't do him justice. It was said he was a harasser of women, a sake thief, doesn't pay, has no loyalty or honor.

  I said in my head: And what do you know about fighting, you drunkard?

  Morito laughed as if he read my thoughts: Kappa... you have a tongue in your mind that must be disciplined. Do you want to be hit again?

  This bastard... I want to hit him... but I shouldn't do anything. I am a Samurai, and Samurai always keep their calm. I ignored him and continued swinging my sword. Morito smiled with features that bore bitter mockery, and said:

  Do you know what your lord is trying to do these days? I will ignore him. He is gathering orphaned children... children who have no place in this harsh world, and making them Samurai. He plans to create an army of outcasts.

  He took another swig and said in a malicious voice dripping with poison: It seems you, Kappa, are losing your place in your lord's heart. You won't be the "special" one anymore. You will be just one of many. Just a frog in a pond full of fish.

  My hand stopped moving. Jealousy... fear... doubt. I felt the water atop my head ripple with anxiety. Then I tightened my grip on the sword hilt.

  No. I said loudly. It's impossible for my lord to abandon me. It's impossible for him to do this. He gave me a great name... a name carried by a great Samurai... his name is Inka.

  Morito laughed and leaped away into the darkness.