Memory's Moon: The Beginning

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Why did you come here?

She stared at him with blue eyes dulled in anger and exhaustion, her dark hair hanging dully over her shoulders. Dressed in the stark, billowing white haori and blood-red hakama of a miko, she looked- strange, out of place.

She was no miko.

Her power was holy, that was true, but her soul was not that of a miko.

It was that of a warrior.

And the katana, stabbed into the earth in its pulsating saya, had called to that soul.

They're all dead.

He watched her over the plain-looking leather-bound hilt of the katana, ageless and emotionless. He was not human, after all; he was only a messenger spirit, set here to question those who came to claim the sword.

Why did you come here, then?

The hazy blue eyes dimmed, and she looked away from the sword.

I… have to end this.

Slowly, the being comprehended her meaning, tasting its import on the currents of thoughts in the air, sensing what she meant to do. He frowned at the sword. As with all ancient blades, it had chosen this bearer. Though he was familiar with this kind of choosing; the blade usually ended up back in his care after whatever it was that brought her to this place.

It had once been a village, but once the blade was planted here, the humans had all perished under its power. He himself felt no more than a passing regret for their passing; humans came and went like the spring rains, after all.

Coming to the foregone conclusion, he raised his gaze to the battle-worn young woman who stood before him in ragged shoes.

This is the Sword of Memory's Moon, Oborezuki.

Take up this blade if you are prepared to sacrifice the reason for your pain.

She hesitated, eyes narrowing.

What's that supposed to mean?

He shrugged briefly.

It will eliminate the enemy who caused your pain, but in return it will demand the memory of the reason for your pain.

No power is without sacrifice.

Her hands stretched out, one on the plain leather-bound hilt, the other on the glowing saya that encased its metal blade.

I knew that long ago, shikigami-san.

The sword slid out of its earthen resting place with a quiet rattle of aged steel.

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A/N: A change of pace from my usual OC fics. This one will be a 'pure' story, I think… or I hope so. It's probably up to the reviewers to keep my fics on the straight and narrow…

Editing note: Revised. Again. Because I re-read it and caught some really glaring errors… as well as the really awkward ending. Open to suggestions…