He developed a fascination with the sword at the age of nine. He would swing the sword, slice through an unseen enemy, and time would stand perfectly still. Everything would be in its rightful place.
Later, he would realize he was more skillful than most of his friends. He sells his sword to the highest bidder, and the bids can get satisfyingly high. Life was good.
For twenty years, he honed his craft and became the best on the battlefield.
Then one day, the new emperor abolishes the samurai class with a snap of his finger. Nobody is permitted to carry swords anymore. The samurai, together with his sword, his skills, his youth, and his whole soul, is banned in an instant.
What is the samurai to do?
Will he be a farmer and till the fields until he is old? Will he be a potter and suffer the wet, sticky clay on his hands? Or maybe be a bard and spend sleepless nights futilely trying to make the lyrics rhyme?
What happened to the years of discipline and practice? What happened to all the time spent honing his craft?
These questions would burn through the samurai as he watched the sun set, together with the world that he had been familiar with. Tomorrow, the sun will rise, and maybe, just maybe, he can find a world where he will belong again.