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Wingshadow
Guest
The sounds in the mountain were so different from the ones in her town. There was no rolling of wheels by merchants and royalty, no voices announcing sales or pleading for a prayer, no hustle and bustle of the steps of dozens and dozens of people up and down the steps of her shrine, or walking one way or another in the streets. The light hush of the waterfall replaced the sounds of trafic, and the voices of the cicadas were the only ones heard so close to the mountain shrine. She had left instructions not to be bothered for her yearly meditation, the days of purification, but already she had a feeling in the back of her mind that they wouldn't be followed.
Momoko was alone at the foot of the waterfall, bearing the cold chill of the water as she tried to clear her mind, to let in the essence of nature as she prepared herself for the Hanabi Matsuri, the festival she would lead for the first time. She was about to turn 16, about to be of marrying age, about to be an adult, yet she had yet to find the man she had foreseen as her husband. That didn't mean she had any shortage of suitors, if anything it only increased them. But one she'd stuck her mind to something, she followed through.
She was a priestess, youngest daughter of the oldest family in her small, agriculture-based town. She had always been an over-achiever, mastering arts of calligraphy, the koto, and quite a bit of astrology and politics. But she was not picked for any of these, she was picked for her foresight abilities, her abilities to let nature invade her and tell her of times to come, whether personal, of individual people, or even foresee draught or rain. And just like she could foresee that this year will be a dry one, she could see that someone was coming to meet with her here before she heard the sound of the carriage rolling up the mountain, or the clippity-clap of the horses. She was already putting her priestess robes over her soft, lightly-tanned skin, when the messengers arrived.
"I take it you interrupted my meditations for an important reason," she said softly, pushing back strands of damp black hair from her face, noting the carriage sent to seek her was not of her town. "How can I be of assistance to you?"
Gradually, the chup chup of the horse's hooves echoed off the cliff walls over which the waterfall flowed, reaching Momoko's physical as well as spiritual hearing. The rattling of the carriage wheels against the pebble-paved road came to an abrupt stop as the messenger's boots ground into the soft soil beside the road and humbly approached the meditating priestess.
"Oracle," the messenger began with a meek and respectful bow, "I know you are in the midst of your yearly meditation, but the situation has grown dire for our lands. The king himself has requested your presence at the palace, in order to give hope and reassurance to the people, to aid the king as his primary advisor, and to ensure your own safety in this troublous time. The king has already prepared a place for you at the palace, along with suitable reimbursement for your trouble. This is most urgent, but do not consider yourself a prisoner of the king in any way. You will be assigned a guard with which you may go as often as you wish and to whatever location within our domain you may so desire to go. Please, I beg of you to accept his highnesses' request."
Strange, she had yet to foresee such a thing. Was something blinding her inner eye? She did not feel any hostility from the messenger, nor was there any lie in his eyes. Then again, she knew messengers were never told more than was needed. As she finished getting herself dressed, she stood up, her large, dark eyes looking into the messenger.
"Is there any need to reinforce the fact that I won't be a prisoner if I'm not...?" she asked, her voice a bit sharp, but trying to stay soft and subtle as was a priestess should be. With soft, calm steps she walked forward. "Is there any reason they are taking a priestess instead of a political figure? Or do they believe I will be able to offer them anything that might turn things in their favor?"
She was not someone very trusting, not of humans anyway. But of course, she should have held her toungue. After a polite bow, she said, as if she hadn't spoken before, "I'll be glad to be of service, but please allow me to report this to my village, and to get my personal belongings."
"As you doubtless know, Oracles are highly prized in this troublous time for their ability to foretell the future, both near and far, small and great matters aside. Regardless of how influential or powerful a political figure may be, they cannot hold a candle to the divine knowledge within you which is without error, and that alone can give more assurance as an entire room full of politicians," the messenger replied, bowing once again, "Of course, please allow us to escort you to the village, and from there when you are ready we may depart for the capital."
He gestured to the guards, who opened the door for her on the carriage.
With soft but resolute steps, she walked towards the carriage, the soft breeze making the hairs on the bak of her neck stand up. Yes, people preferred to listen to oracles than politicians, they would much rather be skeptic about a hard future than face harsh realities, they would rather blame it all to fate than to themselves. But she knew that wasn't the reason they were taking her. She was easier to push, less likely to talk about being abused, and much more willing to break.
As hesitant as she was about this, she entered the carriage, sitting down perfectly with her legs behind her thighs. Hopefully things would work out, since she'd yet to make a prediction about this.
The door on the carriage shut firmly and locked before the driver unlocked the wheels and the chup chup of the horse's hoves against the pebble road below once again ground away. The carriage turned around and headed down the mountain path toward the village, the guards, messenger, and driver all remained respectfully, perhaps even eerily, quiet throughout the journey.
It was nearly dusk by the time they reached the front gate of the village, at which point the guards jumped off the back of the carriage and marched ahead to inform the village sentries of their purpose there. A few minutes afterward the large wooden pylon walls creaked open and allowed the carriage to pass through, stopping at the oracle's house a short while afterward.
The guards then helped the Oracle down from the carriage and offered to help her pack anything she wanted to take with her. They were not terribly eloquent, but they were certainly polite to her.
Although tall wooden walls defended the village from invaders, and indeed the village itself was busy with people, it was still a small suburban place where agriculture and merchants thrived. What distinguished this place was the shrines, the concentration of spiritual energy and the location. This peaceful town was situated right between two large kingdoms, like the eye of the storm it refused to take sides and get between the two kingdoms beside it. It was a strategic point, and Momoko knew this well.
With soft, almost ethereal steps she entered her house, small but lavish, and with gestures motioned no one to follow her. There wasn't many possessions she needed, and hoped the time spent not to be long. She wrote charms to protect the village, in case any ayakashi or such decided to attack while she was gone. She also wrote down instructions on what to do at the Matsuri, since she would most likely be unable to participate. But all this without a word. Maybe a vow of silence was what she needed...
It took her a bit, but she packed her astrology charts and dowsing materials, and a few pairs of priestess robes, both ceremonial and every-day. She had no idea what she was getting into, but she'd be prepared. She walked back to the carriage as silently as she came in, the whole town apparently joining into this vow of silence and ominous attitude her priestess had. But, surely they wouldn't dare harm a priestess... would they?
The guards waited patiently for Momoko to return, whereupon they helped her into the carriage once again and with a wordless gesture to the driver they turned the horses toward the northern gate and departed, the silent goodbye's of the villagers waved them off and bid them farewell...
Night soon fell upon the road and the driver lit two small lamps which hung near the front of the carriage in order to light their way and help them from straying too far off the well-worn country road. The carriage jostled violently in some places, waking up the messenger who tried to catch a few winks while laying sprawled out on the roof of the carriage, as the interior was reserved for the oracle's use alone. The two guards remained vigilant, holding with firm grip on their hand-holds and thier swords which sat half-drawn in their sheaths by their sides while they sat on the bench nailed to the back of the carriage. Robbers were common in these days, as the uncertainty of war made some villagers turn to lawlessness in order to make ends meet... nobles, peasants, and priestesses alike were vulnerable to such ambushes.
Momoko tried to concentrate during her not too smooth ride, to see what would be, what they want, to try to think and feel the posible streams of time, what her decisions would provoke, and most of all, what would be best for the people. But she knew that forcing things never got anything, and that remaining calm was her best shot.
With her perfect sitting posture maintained, she remained cool-headed all the ride, not one word uttered. She felt the chill of night breathing into the cabin, she knew this journey would not be interrupted, not now, not today. She could hear the cicadas calmly in the night sky, and could see no red in the sky. The moon was bright, no bandits would be attacking.
She would arrive to the castle after too many bumps, but knew that the welcome would reek of hypocrisy. She needed to find out what they were after, to know why they called her here...
As the oracle predicted, they did not meet anyone on the long road toward the king's palace. The lonesome road wound itself to a stop as it widened and became paved with coarsely-cut but perfectly-fitted stones. The ride became smooth and clean, with only the occasional bump due to the occasional unevenness of the road. The carriage came to a stuttering halt before the wide iron gates of the capital city. The distant palace stood upon a mountain cliff, like a haggard-bearded beast clutching to the sheer rock face with hundreds of wooden legs supporting its massive weight. The ridges of the mountain range formed an impenetrable wall from behind while thick, leather and iron plated battlements jutted up from the earth forming an intimidating human-made wall of red, blue, and black. The roughly etched tiles upon the roof curved upward like the jaws of a great beast. The watchtowers at each of the corners loomed over the city with watchful, hawk-like eyes and crossbowmen armed and aiming toward the mist which hung about like a ghostly blanket. Brightly burning paper lanterns hung from every corner and by every window, easily hundreds if not thousands of them, gleaming like foxfires from out of the fog and gently rocking to and fro in the distant morning breeze.
The guards once again stepped down to talk with the sentries, the scuttling of the city-dwellers preparing for the daylight hours could even be heard past the imposing walls which encircled the city.
"We have been expecting you, they say the king has scarce taken an hour of rest while waiting the oracle's arrival. It must be a very urgent matter, please come in without delay," the sentry inform them briefly before waving to the men on the wall.
There was a deep wooden groan as the walls slowly opened and allowed them to pass through its jaws... up toward the winding road which slithered like the great beast's tongue back toward the palace gate.
Upon reaching the palace, the guards helped the oracle down from the carriage, which hurried off to the stables to refresh the horses after their long journey.
Then, as she turned to her right she saw a man robed in elaborate designs walking toward her... A man whom she had seen before, not in the flesh but in the far recesses of her mind. He appeared to be nothing more than a simple diplomat from a foreign land, but there was something familar about him... Something ominous about him.
Momoko was alone at the foot of the waterfall, bearing the cold chill of the water as she tried to clear her mind, to let in the essence of nature as she prepared herself for the Hanabi Matsuri, the festival she would lead for the first time. She was about to turn 16, about to be of marrying age, about to be an adult, yet she had yet to find the man she had foreseen as her husband. That didn't mean she had any shortage of suitors, if anything it only increased them. But one she'd stuck her mind to something, she followed through.
She was a priestess, youngest daughter of the oldest family in her small, agriculture-based town. She had always been an over-achiever, mastering arts of calligraphy, the koto, and quite a bit of astrology and politics. But she was not picked for any of these, she was picked for her foresight abilities, her abilities to let nature invade her and tell her of times to come, whether personal, of individual people, or even foresee draught or rain. And just like she could foresee that this year will be a dry one, she could see that someone was coming to meet with her here before she heard the sound of the carriage rolling up the mountain, or the clippity-clap of the horses. She was already putting her priestess robes over her soft, lightly-tanned skin, when the messengers arrived.
"I take it you interrupted my meditations for an important reason," she said softly, pushing back strands of damp black hair from her face, noting the carriage sent to seek her was not of her town. "How can I be of assistance to you?"
Gradually, the chup chup of the horse's hooves echoed off the cliff walls over which the waterfall flowed, reaching Momoko's physical as well as spiritual hearing. The rattling of the carriage wheels against the pebble-paved road came to an abrupt stop as the messenger's boots ground into the soft soil beside the road and humbly approached the meditating priestess.
"Oracle," the messenger began with a meek and respectful bow, "I know you are in the midst of your yearly meditation, but the situation has grown dire for our lands. The king himself has requested your presence at the palace, in order to give hope and reassurance to the people, to aid the king as his primary advisor, and to ensure your own safety in this troublous time. The king has already prepared a place for you at the palace, along with suitable reimbursement for your trouble. This is most urgent, but do not consider yourself a prisoner of the king in any way. You will be assigned a guard with which you may go as often as you wish and to whatever location within our domain you may so desire to go. Please, I beg of you to accept his highnesses' request."
Strange, she had yet to foresee such a thing. Was something blinding her inner eye? She did not feel any hostility from the messenger, nor was there any lie in his eyes. Then again, she knew messengers were never told more than was needed. As she finished getting herself dressed, she stood up, her large, dark eyes looking into the messenger.
"Is there any need to reinforce the fact that I won't be a prisoner if I'm not...?" she asked, her voice a bit sharp, but trying to stay soft and subtle as was a priestess should be. With soft, calm steps she walked forward. "Is there any reason they are taking a priestess instead of a political figure? Or do they believe I will be able to offer them anything that might turn things in their favor?"
She was not someone very trusting, not of humans anyway. But of course, she should have held her toungue. After a polite bow, she said, as if she hadn't spoken before, "I'll be glad to be of service, but please allow me to report this to my village, and to get my personal belongings."
"As you doubtless know, Oracles are highly prized in this troublous time for their ability to foretell the future, both near and far, small and great matters aside. Regardless of how influential or powerful a political figure may be, they cannot hold a candle to the divine knowledge within you which is without error, and that alone can give more assurance as an entire room full of politicians," the messenger replied, bowing once again, "Of course, please allow us to escort you to the village, and from there when you are ready we may depart for the capital."
He gestured to the guards, who opened the door for her on the carriage.
With soft but resolute steps, she walked towards the carriage, the soft breeze making the hairs on the bak of her neck stand up. Yes, people preferred to listen to oracles than politicians, they would much rather be skeptic about a hard future than face harsh realities, they would rather blame it all to fate than to themselves. But she knew that wasn't the reason they were taking her. She was easier to push, less likely to talk about being abused, and much more willing to break.
As hesitant as she was about this, she entered the carriage, sitting down perfectly with her legs behind her thighs. Hopefully things would work out, since she'd yet to make a prediction about this.
The door on the carriage shut firmly and locked before the driver unlocked the wheels and the chup chup of the horse's hoves against the pebble road below once again ground away. The carriage turned around and headed down the mountain path toward the village, the guards, messenger, and driver all remained respectfully, perhaps even eerily, quiet throughout the journey.
It was nearly dusk by the time they reached the front gate of the village, at which point the guards jumped off the back of the carriage and marched ahead to inform the village sentries of their purpose there. A few minutes afterward the large wooden pylon walls creaked open and allowed the carriage to pass through, stopping at the oracle's house a short while afterward.
The guards then helped the Oracle down from the carriage and offered to help her pack anything she wanted to take with her. They were not terribly eloquent, but they were certainly polite to her.
Although tall wooden walls defended the village from invaders, and indeed the village itself was busy with people, it was still a small suburban place where agriculture and merchants thrived. What distinguished this place was the shrines, the concentration of spiritual energy and the location. This peaceful town was situated right between two large kingdoms, like the eye of the storm it refused to take sides and get between the two kingdoms beside it. It was a strategic point, and Momoko knew this well.
With soft, almost ethereal steps she entered her house, small but lavish, and with gestures motioned no one to follow her. There wasn't many possessions she needed, and hoped the time spent not to be long. She wrote charms to protect the village, in case any ayakashi or such decided to attack while she was gone. She also wrote down instructions on what to do at the Matsuri, since she would most likely be unable to participate. But all this without a word. Maybe a vow of silence was what she needed...
It took her a bit, but she packed her astrology charts and dowsing materials, and a few pairs of priestess robes, both ceremonial and every-day. She had no idea what she was getting into, but she'd be prepared. She walked back to the carriage as silently as she came in, the whole town apparently joining into this vow of silence and ominous attitude her priestess had. But, surely they wouldn't dare harm a priestess... would they?
The guards waited patiently for Momoko to return, whereupon they helped her into the carriage once again and with a wordless gesture to the driver they turned the horses toward the northern gate and departed, the silent goodbye's of the villagers waved them off and bid them farewell...
Night soon fell upon the road and the driver lit two small lamps which hung near the front of the carriage in order to light their way and help them from straying too far off the well-worn country road. The carriage jostled violently in some places, waking up the messenger who tried to catch a few winks while laying sprawled out on the roof of the carriage, as the interior was reserved for the oracle's use alone. The two guards remained vigilant, holding with firm grip on their hand-holds and thier swords which sat half-drawn in their sheaths by their sides while they sat on the bench nailed to the back of the carriage. Robbers were common in these days, as the uncertainty of war made some villagers turn to lawlessness in order to make ends meet... nobles, peasants, and priestesses alike were vulnerable to such ambushes.
Momoko tried to concentrate during her not too smooth ride, to see what would be, what they want, to try to think and feel the posible streams of time, what her decisions would provoke, and most of all, what would be best for the people. But she knew that forcing things never got anything, and that remaining calm was her best shot.
With her perfect sitting posture maintained, she remained cool-headed all the ride, not one word uttered. She felt the chill of night breathing into the cabin, she knew this journey would not be interrupted, not now, not today. She could hear the cicadas calmly in the night sky, and could see no red in the sky. The moon was bright, no bandits would be attacking.
She would arrive to the castle after too many bumps, but knew that the welcome would reek of hypocrisy. She needed to find out what they were after, to know why they called her here...
As the oracle predicted, they did not meet anyone on the long road toward the king's palace. The lonesome road wound itself to a stop as it widened and became paved with coarsely-cut but perfectly-fitted stones. The ride became smooth and clean, with only the occasional bump due to the occasional unevenness of the road. The carriage came to a stuttering halt before the wide iron gates of the capital city. The distant palace stood upon a mountain cliff, like a haggard-bearded beast clutching to the sheer rock face with hundreds of wooden legs supporting its massive weight. The ridges of the mountain range formed an impenetrable wall from behind while thick, leather and iron plated battlements jutted up from the earth forming an intimidating human-made wall of red, blue, and black. The roughly etched tiles upon the roof curved upward like the jaws of a great beast. The watchtowers at each of the corners loomed over the city with watchful, hawk-like eyes and crossbowmen armed and aiming toward the mist which hung about like a ghostly blanket. Brightly burning paper lanterns hung from every corner and by every window, easily hundreds if not thousands of them, gleaming like foxfires from out of the fog and gently rocking to and fro in the distant morning breeze.
The guards once again stepped down to talk with the sentries, the scuttling of the city-dwellers preparing for the daylight hours could even be heard past the imposing walls which encircled the city.
"We have been expecting you, they say the king has scarce taken an hour of rest while waiting the oracle's arrival. It must be a very urgent matter, please come in without delay," the sentry inform them briefly before waving to the men on the wall.
There was a deep wooden groan as the walls slowly opened and allowed them to pass through its jaws... up toward the winding road which slithered like the great beast's tongue back toward the palace gate.
Upon reaching the palace, the guards helped the oracle down from the carriage, which hurried off to the stables to refresh the horses after their long journey.
Then, as she turned to her right she saw a man robed in elaborate designs walking toward her... A man whom she had seen before, not in the flesh but in the far recesses of her mind. He appeared to be nothing more than a simple diplomat from a foreign land, but there was something familar about him... Something ominous about him.
