Science Fiction and Fantasy Contest — February 2025

I participated in the inaugural launch of sfscontest.com’s new writing competition!

I’m ecstatic: it's always great to be a part of something new from the ground floor up. I hope they put on more contests — it was super easy to participate, and the editor/judge looks top-shelf.

Writers for this challenge were given 48 hours to produce a 1,000-word flash fiction piece (science fiction or fantasy, of course) that involved an action (“laugh”) and a required word (“blade.”)

My story, The Wind Remembers, takes us to feudal Japan. I felt in the mood for fantasy, and I wanted to avoid the usual Euro-centric tropes of Western fiction and dive into the lore of Japanese Kami.

The premise begins with a blade, given the required word. The blade in this piece is a wakizashi, a sacred weapon of the samurai. In my story, the blade is cursed: in exchange for its service, the sword takes a memory with every cut — a home, a face, a name — until the warrior remembers nothing, even what he was fighting for.

We join Takayori Arasaka, once a loyal samurai, in a distant mountain temple, but Takayori grieves: he remembers nothing. His cursed weapon has left with only whispers of a past he cannot grasp; he barely recognizes his reflection. When a monk offers a ritual to uncover the truth, Takayori embarks on a journey through fragments of his forgotten life. But some memories are better left buried.

At its core, it’s a story about identity, honor, and the painful weight of memory. For a samurai in feudal Japan, loyalty and duty were paramount. I wondered what would happen to a man whose identity is bound to a master — a Daimyo — and yet what would happen if he forgot his Diamyo’s name. What happens when a warrior, defined by his service, loses his past and the very name of the lord he swore to protect?

Takayori Arasaka is not just any samurai — he is a man unraveling, a living contradiction of tradition and loss. His wakizashi, the symbol of his warrior’s soul, has betrayed him, stripping away his purpose one cut at a time. His journey is less about reclaiming his past and more about discovering whether that past was ever worth remembering in the first place.

I wanted the story to feel ethereal, almost like a legend or fairy tale, so I dug in my heels to set the scene.

“Tsuri-dōrō lanterns swayed from Japanese maples encircling the temple’s courtyard. Candlelight cast an ethereal glow across ancient paving stones to meet a shallow pond in the courtyard’s center where an eternity of stars reflected upon its surface like a great cosmic well.”

Candlelight, cosmic reflections, a reflecting pool, and swirling maple leaves enhance the story’s dreamlike quality. Sogen Kōetsu, the monk, serves as both guide and witness, offering wisdom on Takayori’s journey. The story’s themes resonate beyond history—how much of who we are is tied to memory? And if we had the chance to choose, would we remember or let go?

I hope it does well. We’ll see!

R