Ben felt the blade get ripped from his hand by the force of the shot. It flew over the side of the ship and fell into the waters below. He felt a wave of dizziness as he reached back for his katana. He had never drawn it in battle, not since he was a child. His fingers shook as he clasped the hilt of his father's sword, and he remembered the first time he'd ever held it.

The bokken clacked together as father and son faced off. The wooden practice swords were nicked and worn down from years of use. Each one felt familiar to Ben, even though he was only ten. Growing u...

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