Black Vein-Chapter 16: Stones That Remember

The path had narrowed.

The trees no longer whispered—they watched. Every broken branch felt loud, every breath focused and on-eyes.

Rin moved ahead in near silence, blades tucked close, scanning every movement. Venshiro walked beside Hana and Surado, the boy now fully awake, eyes darting curiously to every mark along the trail.

"Hey, Venshiro..." Surado tugged on his sleeve. "Are you really gonna train me?"

Venshiro cracked a rare smile. "If we live through this forest, yeah. I said I would."

"Cool." The boy grinned wide. "Can I start now?"

Rin glanced back, smirking beneath her mask. "This place is haunted and full of curses, but sure, let's squeeze in a lesson."

Hana gave her a look. "Let him have something to focus on. Fear grows bigger when your hands are empty and still."

Venshiro nodded. "She's right. Alright, Surado. Let's start small."

They stopped for short in a clearing—barely wide enough for movement.

Venshiro pulled out his secondary blade—one not bound to the Black Vein. He handed it to Surado. "First rule. Respect the blade. It's not a toy, not an extension of rage. A sword isn't just a weapon -its symbol of responsibility.

When you draw a blade, you're making a promise to protect, to fight with purpose, and to face the consequences of using it.

It's not for violence —it's about honor, control, and intention."

Surado took it seriously, holding the weight awkwardly but with focus. "It's heavy..."

It should be," Venshiro said. "Every swing costs something. Strength. Breath. Sometimes more."

Rin leaned against a tree, arms crossed, eyes on the woods. But her attention wasn't fully on the trees anymore.

"Alright," Venshiro continued. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Grip tight, but not too hard. You're not choking a snake."

The boy copied him. "Like this?"

"Better. Now try a horizontal cut."

The blade pulsed through the air, nearly cuts Surado .

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"Too wide," Venshiro corrected. "Control the center. Blade follows your breath. Try again."

This time it was smoother. Still not perfect, but good start.

Hana smiled and chuckled quietly.

"For a young guy ,you're a good teacher," she said to Venshiro.

He shrugged. "My father was better. I just remember what helped."

"Everytime when i look in the eyes of Surado .. i see myself..his movements..his scent of curiosity in his smile .

Silence lingered for a moment, soft and full.

But the forest didn't allow peace for long.

Rin suddenly straightened. "We're not alone."

"AHHHH AGAIN , CAN WE NOT HAVE A LITTLE MOMENT IN PIECE ?, DAMN IT". Venshiro said angry.

A low, rhythmic hum echoed through the branches. Not mechanical. Not magical.

Breathing.

From the edges of the clearing , shapes emerged. Not Whisperers. Not clan scouts. These were cloaked figures—dripping in moss and blackened bark. No weapons. No eyes visible beneath the hoods.

Venshiro drew his blade slowly. "Don't move."

One figure stepped forward and knelt, pressing their palm to the moss-covered stones. The ground answered.

A glyph appeared beneath them—soft glowing blue—spiraling out in a ring of ancient Midoriha text.

Rin read it out loud. "Stone remembers. Blood walks. Root guides."

The lead figure stood again. "You carry the echo," they said, voice deep and non-human.

Venshiro stepped forward, guarded. "Are you another Keeper?"

No. We are the Hollow Circle. Memory-bound. We do not speak often... but the Root is excited ."

Hana stepped closer, protective hand on Surado. "What do you want with us?"

The figure pointed at Venshiro's sword. "That blade... was buried here once. Before the clans. Before the names. You walk on its grave."

"Test us how?" Venshiro asked.

"By remembering what you would choose to forget.

Even if you try to forget something painful or dangerous, it still lives somewhere. The world remembers, even if you don't want to."

Another figure stepped forward, this one holding a curved wooden staff, marked with old scars.

"The Root does not reveal truth. It reveals your truth. Be ready."

Then, as if a breeze pulled them into dust, the Hollow Circle dissapeared ...vanishing like smoke between the trees.

Surado, wide-eyed, whispered, "That was kinda awesome."

Hana gave him a light push. "Stay close, awesome kid."

They walked again, climbing upward. The path turned into stone steps, mostly broken, some swallowed by grass. Old symbols etched the rocks beneath their feet, weathered by the time.

As they climbed, the forest thinned—revealing a clearing shaped like a perfect circle. At the center, a massive stone gate stood, half-collapsed, bearing the emblem of Midoriha: the great tree with an eye in its roots.

Rin stepped ahead and touched the archway.

"I've heard of this," she said. "Shrine of the First Breath. Where Midoriha believed all life began."

Hana looked around. "So what now? We walk in?"

Venshiro placed a hand on the arch.

The Black Vein pulsed.

And the stone responded.

The gate trembled. The ancient vines around it peeled back like curtains. A low hum filled the air—not a warning, but an invitation.

Rin drew both her blades. "This is it."

Surado whispered, "It's singing..."

Venshiro looked at him. "The tree?"

He nodded. "No... the sword. It's calling home."