Lizardman.

Going to fight a Lizardman.

Going to marry a Lizardman.

Those thoughts are all that I can think about as I stroll alone through the forest. My only companions this morning are my new sword in its sheath and the comfortable weight of the pack on my back. Its autumn and the forest is covered in the yellows, oranges and browns of the season. The grass is dappled in light beads of dew, and my breath steams in the brisk morning air. It’s a wonderful day to start my adventure.

I’m on a mission, a mission for love.

The love I feel burning in my chest does not have any one recipient, as it stands it is a general feeling of love for the as of yet faceless objective of my quest. The feelings of love I have for the moment are for the concept of a Lizardman rather than any particular one.

The first Lizardman I come across will be the lucky recipient of my focused affections. My Sensei would want it to be that way. A man must entrust himself to fate!

I will fulfill Sensei’s wish at any cost.

The man took me in and raised me as his own when my birth parents were killed in a bandit attack when I was but a child. I will repay my Sensei’s kindness by following in his footsteps, and succeeding where he failed.

Sensei was born and raised in Zippangu, where he was revered as a peerless master of the sword. When he was at the apex of his prowess, he learned of the Lizardmen and their superior strength, agility and focus on martial ability. He left his homeland that morning on a journey to meet these rumored warrior women.

He hoped to take a Lizardman as his wife and finally have a partner who also appreciated the way of the sword as much as he himself did. He and his partner would raise a child who could become the world’s greatest swordsmen.

Unfortunately for all his vaunted talents with a blade, Sensei was ambushed by a blue slime while sleeping rough during his journey across the continent.

Jon had asked as to why his Sensei did not just choose to run. He was promptly informed that a Samurai does not run.

As Sensei was a man of honor, he was compelled to marry the slime girl when she demanded that he stay and ‘take responsibility’.

It may have helped that he fell in love with his turquoise lover at first glomping.

He stayed and chose to make his home in the caves with his new love. The pair eventually had a daughter and Sensei was the happiest he had ever been.

Alas, as much as he loved his wife and daughter, he feared that his dreams of creating the world’s greatest swordsman would wither on the vine. His attempts to teach swordsmanship to his daughter had been… less than successful.

It proved to be quite impossible to teach correct stance to someone who didn’t have legs. His daughter was an eager learner, but the lessons usually just devolved into an extended play session.

He thus decided that it was a sign from the gods when he visited the nearby village to buy supplies and found myself orphaned in a bandit raid. Pretty standard sole survivor story really.

I got the family I needed, and Sensei got a student who would be able to fulfill his dream.

I quickly came to love my adoptive mother and sister once I got over my initial shock that they were monmusu. It helped that I was young enough that much of the Order’s preaching had simply gone over my head.

So it did not strike me as strange at all when Sensei approached me on my eighteenth birthday and told me to go on my journey to find myself a Lizardman wife.

Thus I am now on my journey. I would have taken a map, but I was resolutely told that a man forges his own path. So if anyone asks, I’m not lost, I’m forging my own path. It just happens to stick to the road.

“I hope Fee isn’t too upset…”

Fee is my adoptive older sister, and while I love her as a sister, my older sister has never quite agreed with me on the idea of us as siblings as opposed to lovers. Her thoughts on the matter were best boiled down in her own halting words:

“Swords........Dumb........Love........Better........Fee........Loves........Jon.”

My adoptive mother and sister have never understood the complexities of a warrior’s need to follow the warrior’s path.

My mother is happy so long as her husband stays with her. My sister on the other hand bubbles angrily whenever the subject of me leaving is raised and redoubles her daily attempts to deflower me. Alas as much as I would love to enjoy her gelatinous embrace, Sensei has instructed me to save sex for the woman I would call my wife. Old fashioned, but I wont argue.

With my sister’s feelings in mind, I decided to leave in secret to avoid any sorrowful tears.

If I see Fee cry I fear I will be compelled to give her a parting hug and if I do I am entirely sure she will take the opportunity to ensure I stay permanently.

I may have become an expert at avoiding glomps, but even I would be defenseless if she started with a hold on me.

I left her a note saying that I would return to visit once I have married my wife. I feel slightly guilty for acting in a manner that suggested I don’t care, but a clean cut will be better for my adoptive sibling.

So one can imagine my surprise when I see my older sister ooze across the path in front of me dragging a heavy sack and armed with a determined gaze. She stops in the middle of the road and pulls herself up to full height, emphasizing her curvy form as she fixes me with her best ‘older sister is mad’ look.

A high pitched wail sounds across the road,

“Jon...a...thon!”

Shit. It’s the full name. Normally she just calls me Jon. She only uses Jonathon when she’s really mad. I knew I should have expected it, but I didn’t think she would be able to catch me before I made my getaway. I can see the bubbles forming in her liquid body as she begins to shake with anger.

The last time I saw her this mad was when me and Sensei tried a new sword technique on each other that ended in both of us bleeding profusely all over our makeshift dojo. Sis and Mum damn near smothered each of us respectively as they alternated between concerned coos and furious reproach.

A slime’s speech may lack in eloquence but they can more than make up for it in emotional intensity. From that point on me and Sensei were relegated to practice bamboo swords at all times. When I recovered enough to complain to Sensei, he solemnly informed me that a true warrior knows when to pick his battles. His words carried no less weight because he said it while wrapped in the blue all-encompassing embrace of his wife.

“Jon...a...thon........Stop!”

I exhale silently and prepare myself for the greatest confrontation of my life.

“Yes Sis?”

She straightens up even more and crosses her arms over her bountiful chest.

“Not ........ Sis ........ No........ Lon ...ger........ Siblings!”

I felt like someone had just slapped me. My loving older sister was disowning me. I knew she would be upset, but I never thought for one second she would stop being my sister. I was prepared for the warrior’s path to be difficult, but this cut me to the core.

My inner turmoil must have shown on my face, because Fee’s features seemed to soften slightly for a second before returning back to her steely scowl.

“Fee ........Not ........Sister ........Fee ........ Woman!”

Ah, now it was starting to make sense. I actually felt dumb for doubting her.

“Jon ........Want ........Strong ........Wife,”

She pounded her chest, which caused her whole body ripple quite distractingly,

“Fee ........Strong”

With that said she reached into the bag and pulled out an Order knight’s helmet, before quickly squeezing her head into it. I was entirely sure it was supposed to look intimidating, but to be honest it was just plain adorable. I really do want to give my adorable older sister a hug.

“Fee ........Fight ........ Jon........ Does........ Not........Marry........ Lizard”

I’m not surprised by her reason for fighting, only that she chose fighting as her way of communicating.

Brave, but misguided.

Sensei is no fool. I was trained for anti-slime combat as soon as I could walk. I would not fall victim to the same fate as him.

It will be a simple matter for me to carve Fee into smaller pieces so I can pass while she reassembles herself. It won’t particularly hurt her, nor will it cause lasting damage.

If my sister is willing to fight for what she believes is hers, then as a warrior I am obligated to respond. I will make it clear to her here and now, the power of the man who will raise the world’s greatest swordsman.

“So be it Fee, if I win then you will let me pass and re-acknowledge me as your brother!

If you manage to draw blood I will concede defeat.

If I manage to knock the helmet off your head then I win.”

I could see Fee’s eyes narrow through the slits of her helm before she nods,

“If........Fee........Wins........Jon........Stays........Be...come........Fee’s!”

Her voice wobbles a bit towards the end. I can feel myself blushing, just as I can see a dark blue flush spreading across her body, but none the less she doesn’t shrink from her embarrassment.

Fee has demanded I marry her in the past, but this has a feeling of finality to it. We both know that this will be the last time she can offer those words.

I look upon my older sister as if only just now seeing her for the first time.

She looks for all the world like a maiden on the eve of battle, her beautiful blue flesh shining in the twilight of the forest.

That airheaded bubbly older girl, who so proudly wore the name ‘big sister’ for so long, has disappeared to be replaced by this beautiful cerulean Valkyrie.

I feel just for a moment the urge to forget my quest, abandon it all and dive into the embrace of that achingly beautiful creature who seems so alien and yet so familiar to me.

I steel my resolve. I have a duty. I have a destiny.

I nod my acknowledgement. My blade gleams as I slowly scrape it forth into the light and take my stance. My breathing slows. My body becomes rigid. My muscles taut.

My grip is two handed, not too tight, not too loose. I am a wound spring. An explosion bottled.

Opposite me Fee doesn’t even move. Her arms remain loose at her sides. Her piercing blue eyes staring into mine with an intensity that shakes me to my core. I wonder if this strength of will was always in her, hidden beneath that bubbly exterior.

In the past when Fee practiced with me and Sensei, she tried to use the same sword techniques as us. It never worked, so I honestly have no clue as to how she intends to fight me now. If she intends to grapple me, I will shear off grasping limbs until she loses enough mass that she can’t fight…

…and yet, I am afraid of this unfamiliar woman before me.

“Are you ready Fee?”

A slow nod, eyes never breaking contact.

“HAJIME!”

Words I have said a thousand times, and yet on the eve of this battle do they only now sound true.

I leap forward.

Fee moves faster, she whips a limb round and throws her bag at me. My sight is momentarily blocked by the large pile of burlap. Unable to dodge round the projectile I have to slice through it to maintain my forward momentum.

I can hear the tinkle of objects inside as my blade cuts clean through the bag. As the sack parts it vomits forth loose swords into the air. Fortunately the force of my cut causes the blades to fly to either side of me before clattering to the ground or embedding themselves in it.

Returning my attention to where Fee was, I quickly discover that she used the distraction of the bag to draw closer to me using it to shield herself from my sight. Ducking under my second swipe, she moves almost parallel to the floor as her gelatinous body allows her to move inches from the ground and right under my guard.

I quickly take the defense, using nimble footwork to immediately kill my momentum and move backwards with a kick of my heel.

Fee doesn’t even slow down as she reaches out with both arms.

I assume she’s going to leap up and grab me. At least that’s what I assume right up until she grabs one of the discarded swords in an outstretched tentacle and swings upwards in one smooth motion.

I barely manage to bring my sword down in time to guard the blow. The two blades clang off each other. My blade blocks in a downward slash while Fee’s sword flies out of her slippery grip on contact. With Fee weaponless I continue the swipe and slice through her gelatinous form, narrowly missing the helmet.

The deep cut reforms instantly, but to my mind the match was won the second she was disarmed.

“That is why a slime can never be swordsman Sis!”

As Sensei discovered during Fee’s early years, a slime is just unable to maintain a solid grip on her sword. If Fee intends to fight with swords then I’ve already won.

Fee doesn’t even acknowledge my words, her eyes still boring unnervingly into mine, I nearly lose the duel right there and then when she grabs another of the downed swords with her other hand and swings it at me.

Only my finely honed reactions allow me to dodge it, but my shirt isn’t so lucky and I now have a large tear in my traveling shirt. I really should have learned how to sew, but Fee always did it for me.

“Holy shit Fee, you nearly took one of my nipples off!”

Fee rains in a series of blows, alternating blades by scooping them out of the air or from the ground with her hands,

Her voice doesn’t have any of the earlier anger in it; it’s almost entirely monotone, as if she was explaining something to a child,

“Jon........Live........With...out........Nipple........But........Not........Fee”

The blows were coming in even faster now, her multiple appendages allowing her to move faster and faster even as I desperately slap the blades away,

“Fee........Watched........Jon........From........Ba...by!”

Her voice was getting louder now,

“Fed........Jon........Rocked........Jon........When........He........Cried!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Sen...sei........Know........Swords........Not........Child...ren”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Mo...ther........Sim...ple........Love........Hus…band........No........Time........Jon!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Fee........Take........Care........Of........Jon........Fee........Watched........You........Al...ways!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Every........Cut........Every........Scratch......Every........Bruise........Fee........Fix!”

Clang, I can barely even hear her now. Sweat is streaming down my face to keep with the flurry of sword strokes. My clothes are in tatters and my new blade is chipped in a dozen places.

“Hugged........Aw...ay........Every........Night...mare!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Listened........Every........Dream!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

Praised........When........Suc...ceded!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Scolded........When........Bad!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“Al...ways!”

Clang, Clang, Clang,

“And........Yet........Jon........Runs!”

Clang, she was hissing like boiling water now.

“Leaves........Note!?”

“Finds........Some........Liz...ard........Bitch!”

Crack, like water on rock, my blade shatters in the middle as it’s pushed to breaking by this unrelenting flurry of blows,

“Fee........Can’t........Use........Swords!?”

Clack, Clack, Clack,

I still have the hilt and half the blade though, and I’m moving faster than I’ve ever moved before.

“So........What!?”

Clack, Clack, Clack,

I don’t even hear Fee’s words at this point; I’m lost in a world of sword strokes and thrusts. I don’t even have time to think of counter attacking with the sheer speed of the attacks raining down on me. All the while I can’t tear my gaze away from those piercing blue eyes of Fee’s as they burn into me from under her helm.

Clack, Clack, Clack,

My arms are burning. My breathing comes in ragged gasps. Sweat streams off me and steams off into the brisk morning air.

Clack, Clack, Clack,

Dear god, I’ve never felt so alive.

Clack, Clack, Clack,

“Jon........Is........Kind”

Clack,

“Honorable”

Clack,

“Diligent”

Clack,

“Always........Helping!”

Crack, my blade shatters right down to the hilt and I find two short swords pressed against my throat. The pair are pinned so close I dare not even breathe deeply.

“But........Jon........So........Very........Dumb”

I can hear her now. Over my own heavy breathing. Over the blood rushing in my ears.

I can hear my older sister crying.

My sister who has looked after me always. Who has loved me for as long as I can remember, and I ‘the great warrior’ have made her cry.

Before those tears all my reasons, all my aspirations are nothing.

Before I’m a warrior, I’m a brother.

Before I’m a brother, I’m a man.

I take a step forward. Fee lets out an audible gasp and moves the blades back with me without so much as nicking me. My hands move towards her helmet.

“Stop”

My hands keep moving. She sobs, hands trembling as she is unable to bring herself to cut me and draw blood enough to win.

I drop the hilt of my broken sword and reach up, taking Fee’s helmet in both hands.

“Stop........Jon........Please.”

She’s begging now as I slowly undo the straps. Even through the shaking, the blades don’t hurt me.

“Jon........No........Don’t........Leave........Me.”

I slowly begin sliding the helmet from her head, her body now heaving with great sobs, and yet the blades don’t move. They remain paralyzed in place.

“Not........Be...cause........Fee’s........Slime........Not........Like........This”

The helmet slides off with an air of finality, and Fee is standing with tears streaming down her face, her long jelly like hair spilling down her neck and back in one long cascade.

She really is beautiful in that way that goes beyond the physical. A beauty that is just for me. A beauty that is the result of a thousand memories that have that face in them, smiling.

I suppose I’ve won. If I have it’s the definition of a hollow victory.

You know what.

Fuck it.

“Fee?”

She stops sobbing long enough to look me in the eyes once more.

“I concede defeat. I would be honored if you would take my hand in marriage.”

Fee’s face freezes, as if she doesn’t believe what she heard. Finally, like the sun emerging from the clouds a smile breaks out on her face.

Then she slaps me.

Then she tackles me and starts bodily ripping my tattered clothes off.

“Stu...pid........Jon........Made........Fee........Worry!”

I would have made a counter point, but at this point she seems utterly intent on ravishing my mouth with her own.

-----------------------------------------

A few meters away Kenji watched from hiding with his wife Foo

“Told........You.”

Kenji looked at his wife who was grinning back at him with a gloating smirk.

Kenji grunted.

Foo continued unabated, whispering with pride,

“Slime........Strong.”

She moved over and draped herself over him.

“Love........Strong.”

Kenji just grunted and quietly lifted his beloved wife and started to carry her home, all the while with his wife giggling and cooing.

Part of him was sad that the ultimate swordsman would likely not be born in his lifetime, but the other part of him, the bigger part of him, the part of him that was a father, a teacher and a husband was happy.

He was no longer that lonely man that had traveled the world in search of someone who would love him in spite of his obsession with the blade.

He didn’t need someone to share that obsession, he already had what he had always wanted, a soul mate. One would accept him.

Now his son and daughter had that as well. The small part of him that was the sword master was disappointed, but the greater part of him that was a man was overjoyed.