Let me tell you a story... The story of this picture:



With a loud sigh the man stood up from his work under the tree. He had just buried the man he was supposed to care for as long as he lives. And yet he was not able. Not strong enough to fulfill his task. The man looked up and turned to the beautiful scenery in front of him. It slowly became fall and the leafes from the tree were coloured in a beautiful shade of red. A color he normaly associated with the blood of a battle. For him it was the color of war. The color he regularly sweeped off his blade after having fought another cruel battle man versus man. But in this scenery the red leafes that were falling down in front of him gave him a calm feeling. They reminded him of himself. Inspired by this thought the man began to think. He thought about the man he once was. The man he was in this very moment. And the man he will be in the future. The man, until this very moment, was a samurai and the man he just buried was his master. He was not able to protect his master and thus was not worthy of the title "samurai" anymore... Same as the blood red leafes in front of him so it was his fate to fall aswell... From the proud warrior he once was to the little and lonely man he was now. He was now a ronin, doomed to wander through the lands for as long as his path may take him. He continoued his thinking. But now he remembered his master not as someone who he was sworn to, but as his friend. They fought side by side for a long time, protecting each other and caring for each other. Loosing his friend gave the ronin a deep feeling of regret. What if he would have been faster? What if he would have been stronger? What if he could have taken his master's place and die instead of him? Suddenly the man fell on his knees, silently weeping as he grieved for his master. For his friend. He could not remember the last time he cried. But this very time he would never forget. He did choose the place where he would bury his companion carefully. The old tree was the place where they first met each other. At that time the master was merely a young man and so was the ronin. They once met there under the tree, practising their sword fighting skills every day. Some day the young man who would grow to become the master revealed his true identity. He was the descendant of a line of royals and would soon take over his throne as king. The only thing he was still missing was a royal samurai to protect him and fight with him. And as the ronin remembered all the good times they had, battles they fought, bad jokes they made and time they spent the ronin slowly got back up on his feet. He realised now that the past was to remain in the past and that not a single power in the world could change that. Time moves straight forward, and so should he. Driven by that thought he grabbed the last company he had on his long journey. It was his personal sword, forged by himself to be him a livelong companion. He put up his hat and looked back one last time to the tree which now was his best friend's grave until he turned around and started his journey into the future. His live as a ronin...