Dragonsoul [MRAZ]

[Domovoi]

Three sisters: Kiri, Chiyuri, and Emi Ryudo, in order from oldest to youngest. Revered as the daughters of High Priestess Kanae, the grooming of these girls began at birth, intending that one would assume their mother's guarding role over the village Gorando. Though mostly a life of royalty, duties could be strenuous and required training. Else, the dragon goddess's appeasement would fail, and ruin would befall their remote farming village.

Outsiders knew little; semi-xenophobic, Gorandans refused outside help, living off their land and rejecting most immigrants. Their territory's thick jungles rooted in mountain terrain meant few survived the trek. Even the kingdom it lied in cared little about its strange occupants, leaving it politic-free and self-regulated. A double-edged sword, leaving them to make - but also enforce - their own laws and judicial system. However, it was peaceful, the occupants closely knit and more interested in surviving than troublemaking. Your neighbor might be the only source of fresh milk, or tailoring, or your favorite vegetable, and angering them meant potentially losing that resource. It could mean fewer hands to buy your goat horns, or your fabrics, or the wool from your sheep. Better to remain civil and kind, as you were raised to be, and keep the bartering economy afloat.

After the death of Kanae, the time of her daughters' reign came to be. Kiri, the twenty-three-year-old cynic, submitted to the trials first. To begin, she offered a small lock of hair to a shrine honoring her mother. Then, she was to meditate in a hot spring surrounding the Ryudo chateau. The family's private bath, the girls were familiar with it; however, the small grotto behind the home was reserved for this ritual. It was the water source for the rest of the spring, gently lit by strange blue plants that grew nowhere else. A tiny sprout flanked the entrance, younger than the rest, and surely representative of their mother's spirit. Kiri entered with arrogance, her white robe flowing behind as she waded to the center. She knelt, noting the fierce heat consuming her body, and closed her eyes to begin the meditations she'd studied so long. No matter how she focused her mind, though, the pain was intense, tingling spikes of it searing her skin all over. The twelve hours she was meant to stay in ended after only forty minutes, and she fled the cave covered in blisters, her deep brown hair a tangled mess from her struggle. Her proctor, an old man with a curly white mustache, looked on with disappointment.

Next was Chiyuri... Who didn't even make it into the grotto before fleeing in tears. The water was simply too hot! Surely her ancestors had not endured this?!

To everyone's surprise - and, honestly, dismay - the runt of the litter, Emi, was to get a turn. She was dressed in the ceremonial robe, sprinkled with the floral oil her sisters had been, warned not to speak until all trials were over, and sent into the water. She struggled to get to the cave, her short stature working against her as the water flow pushed her back. Kneeling was a task in itself, her chin touching the scalding water even without sitting back on her heels. Thus, staying upright for the twelve hours was her only option, and so it began. Emi closed her eyes, feeling the water pulling her robes and short black hair and leading them towards the entrance, almost as if encouraging her to leave. Emi never expected to be in this position. In fact, she'd hardly taken the grooming seriously, knowing deep down Kiri would inherit her mother's responsibilities. But now, here she was. Burning. Boiling. By the goddess, it hurt. How had her mother done this? How had anyone?

Snapping back control of her thoughts, she attempted the meditations she'd been taught. They were apparently part of the ceremony; focusing on the energy of her ancestors, focusing on the soft glow of the Tamasho plants, visualizing that glow taking over her body and guarding her from the heat and dehydration, picturing it healing the damage being done. Excruciating as it was, she was determined. Not for the role, or even to prove everyone's doubts wrong, but for the chance to see more and do more. The second trial was a journey beyond the walls of trees caging her for her entire life. Beyond that, maybe opportunities to do good with her power would arrive, and protecting her village from divine harm didn't sound so bad. It sounded wonderful to have purpose.

Before she knew it, her name brought her to reality. "Emi, the trial is complete. Come out," When she opened her eyes, no sunlight was peering through the arched entrance. Everything stung and burned, and her throat felt like sand. Had twelve hours truly passed? To her, twenty minutes sounded a more believable estimate. As she stood, her vision blurred, and her legs collapsed beneath her. Every ounce of energy left was gone in the fight to make it outside, where her last waking memory was of being dragged onto dry land, perhaps by fleshy hands, but to her burned skin, it was countless blades wrapping around her limbs. After that, she fainted, unaware of being carried to their healer's home, unaware of being wrapped in leaves and poultices to protect, soothe, and heal her blisters. She was unaware of all but her fever dreams, images of her mother flashing past between visions of herself engulfed in flame, occasionally seeing the eye of a beast amid the chaos.

 

[MRAZ]

The animals were finally back in the barn, it had been a long day of guiding them to graze, protecting them from the predators and then bringing them back again, it was both a routine and an adventure every time. The big woman known as Takara was certain that maybe someday she wouldn’t be as lucky as she usually was, but, until then, she’d enjoy this life as it was and as it came, taking things as easily as she could and delighting in the idea of not having to change this monotony any time soon.

Putting the small herd back in the barn was not hard, the life as a rancher was not that hard once you got used to it, really. Wake up early, help around with chores, help with the fields, then help with the livestock, eat a few times in between, train with the others, at times fight off intruders or thieves, even beasts, and then go to bed only to start over at dawn, day after day, except when Sunday came and the market made everyone get out their nonperishable merchandise (the one that wasn’t sold daily) to trade or sell as they best could. Some would then go and drink, and dance, celebrating another week of them being alive, Takara and her bros, though, they would often just stay home, having their own little celebration with food and drink once the marketplace was over.

Their parents, however, didn’t fully enjoy the simple life, specially their mother, she’d often complain to their old man about wanting a bit more, not too much, just a bit more, a bit more recognition, a bit more fame. A bit more SOMETHING, something out of this never-ending cycle of chores that moment after moment stole her life and her youth, and the life and youth of her husband. The man, quiet by nature, would often just shrug his broad shoulders and put on a clueless expression at her complaining, the three remaining siblings, though, often found themselves in the barn, drinking, eating and swearing that the moment there was a chance to make their ma happy they would take it without a second thought.

Their ma deserved to be very happy, she had sacrificed a lot for them, and they wanted to give something back, but often trying to find a chance to do so would mean risking their way of living. So, most of the times they just let themselves be dragged back by their daily life, loving it, because it was safe, because it was some thing they knew how to do and could get better every day; but also hating it, because it gave neither glory nor fame to give to their mother.

Once back home, the brunette woman found the pleasant surprise of having one of her older sisters: Mai, home in a visit, having brought her children with her. The older of the sisters was way more delicate looking than her younger sister, she was small, fragile looking and cute, everything that Takara was not, but the stronger female didn’t mind that, not anymore. The brunette woman had learned to be happy for her sisters, all of them had married and gone with their husbands, some of them had even had children already, and Takara had learned to admit (after years of resentment, of course) that that life was not for her, and that was okay.

Mai had news for the family about what had been known about the trials, her husband had known how the smallest of all the sisters had managed to prove herself in the trials, but she had no warden at all. How would that girl do the next part of the trials, that was, if she survived the healing process. The oldest sister’s black teeth showed at every one of her words, making their mother look jealous at times, but the story was too interesting as to interrupt it to comment about how Mai was now sporting the latest fashion among noble women.

That night, Takara had not been able to sleep, and, after a few hours, she had gotten up, grabbed her staff and went to the Ryudo chateau, begging for a chance to prove her capacities, so she’d be given one chance, even if just one chance to prove herself as a good candidate to be a warden.