“ENOUGH!” the order erupted through the air. Dao’s blade hung still in the air. Kae’s nerves burst and he collapsed to the grassy ground.
Their father, Lao Haising, stood at the crest of the hill watching his sons at their practice. He stepped forward and offered Kae a hand. As he pulled up his frail youngest, he gave Dao a reproachful look.
“I should like that you not kill each other,” he said sternly. “You, especially, Dao, should know better than to engage in such an attack on such a novice.”
“Of course, father,” Dao said, bowing in respect.
Lao turned to Kae.
“Your mother has need of you,” he said. “She requires your skills for decorating the palace for the coming festival.”
“Yes, father,” Kae said. He bowed quickly and more awkwardly than his brother, and ran off to join his mother.
When he was gone, Lao unsheathed his mighty Shinoku blade, holding it firmly.
“Dao,” he said quietly, inspecting the blade. “Be good to him. He is our future savior.”
“Yes, father,” Dao said, a chill in his voice.
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