The stars gave way to the light returning to the sky as a calm sea broke against the shore. As it had been for centuries, two women only a foot tall stood hand in hand high upon a crack in the mountain at the center of their island home. They each wore red tops that covered one shoulder and matching short wrapped skirts which left their midriff and legs bare. Around their necks hung small golden medallions that bore the ancient symbol of their goddess. Each of them wore a golden cuff with the same symbol embossed into the gold around their upper arms. Each wore their own cuff on the opposite side of the other. Both had their hair tied in long pony tails that hung down the opposite shoulder.
A feeling of warmth tickled the edges of their senses, they looked to each other, smiled and nodded wordlessly before letting their hands free. The young women raised their hands above their heads, letting only the tips of their fingers touch. After a moment fingers separated as they lowered their hands diagonally until they were level with their breasts, tracing the sides of a triangle. Finally, they brought their palms together closing the ancient sign of the Shobijin. "Courage, wisdom, love." They whispered to themselves. The very first rays of the sun caused the surface of the ocean to sparkle and the two women fell to their right knees in unison like feathers in the wind, bowing their heads as they silently gave thanks for the morning light. It had been one year since the incident in Japan where the humans foolishly tried to create a weapon to protect themselves from attack using the bones of Godzilla. The women reflected on this as they prayed knowing they had much to be grateful for, including their lives. The depth of their faith was so keen, they did not even feel the hard rock they knelt upon for hours as the sun climbed high into the eastern sky.
A soft wave of energy washed over the Shobijin, awakening them from their trance. They each came to their feet and joined hands once again. Turning to face each other they smiled and spoke in unison, "The morning has been welcomed. Now Mothra calls to us." Joyful thoughts were exchanged between the women as they made their way to the sacred chamber where Mothra lived. Upon reaching the threshold, they peered into the chamber, making sure it was empty before they entered. The Shobijin kept their focus strictly ahead of them, averting their eyes from the place where Mothra would be. All that could be seen was the rock formation of Mothra's symbol, a formation of small rocks forming a cross surrounded by the symbol of the sun. A large rock stood in the center of the symbol where the Shobijin would stand. Hand in hand they slowly walked to the large stone, keeping their gaze to the floor of the cavern until they climbed up the center stone and turned to face their goddess. When they finally looked up, they saw the cloud of sparkling energy that was Mothra in her true form, rarely taking the form of a giant moth.
Wordlessly and without a thought each of them let go of the other's hand. The sense of profound love and adoration they felt in the presence of their goddess filled their hearts and lifted their souls. They kept their gaze steady upon the cloud of golden energy as they brought their hands up to their breasts in prayer and sank to both of their knees in one easy motion, keeping their feet and legs flat against the stone, seemingly unaffected by the hard rock. As they bowed their heads, each of them remembered the day when Mothra's children were born.
Fear mixed with joy as it was discovered two larvae would emerge from the egg. While it was certain their mother, the last incarnation of Mothra, would die in battle against an enraged Godzilla. As they knelt in prayer while the children of Mothra emerged from their egg, tears streamed down the faces of the Shobijin as hope was restored in their hearts. This time there were no tears as there was no reason to be afraid. After a few moments, Mothra's spiritual energy merged and the physical form of the goddess was Shobijin looked up into the huge blue eyes of the moth and felt her blessing fall upon them as their eyes locked. The Shobijin bowed their heads once-more until the blessing was finished and Mothra returned to her spiritual state.
#
A day filled with mediation of disputes, blessing of newly born children and healing the sick among the tribe of humans upon the Island was coming to an end as fire lit the sky. The Elder of the island, an old man with a long white beard and pure white hair, bid them take their leave for the night and they found themselves in the same small crack in the mountain they had been when morning came. Silently giving thanks for the blessings of the day and praying for blessings from the night as they would soon slumber. Grateful for the peace that continued to fall upon the island. When Mothra's call came over them for the night's worship, the Shobijin came to their feet and walked to the sacred chamber hand in hand as usual.
They entered and descended to the earth before the spiritual essence of the goddess, smiling as they folded their hands and bowed their Shobijin felt Mothra's energy begin to merge, but the Shobijin began to feel a sense of dread they could not identify. They looked up to see Mothra appear in her physical form. She began to flitter her wings frantically, sending waves of sparkling energy everywhere. The Shobijin recognized it as a sign Mothra was about to lay another egg. They kept their focus upon the goddess and began to smile as the joy of witnessing Mothra's new egg emerging from her energy should have come. But, instead of a new egg appearing on the great altar, Mothra suddenly vanished. Leaving behind a chaotic mass of energy that violently sparked like the lightning from a great thunderstorm. The Shobijin screamed as the feeling inside their hearts turned from warm and peaceful to cold and silent. "Mothra is dying and there is no egg!"
#
The Elder of Infant Island stood in shock as the shobijin fell to a knee before him, sobbing uncontrollably and crossing their arms over their chest. "Elder, please forgive us! We bring grave news, Mothra is dying and there are no offspring to renew her!"
The Elder furrowed his brow, his voice thundering with fear. "How is this possible? Mothra is eternal!"
The Shobijin shook their heads, "Everything dies, Mothra is only eternal as long as she gives new life. We saw her try, but she did not have the strength."
The Elder responded incredulously. "How can this be, Mothra is a goddess! Her power is immeasurable!"
The Shobijin replied, "When this incarnation of Mothra came to be, one of the two offspring died suddenly. Only one was left and she was weak. The battle with Godzilla had taken its toll. Mothra grew to adulthood, but she could never have the same strength as her ancestors."
The Elder frowned, "What is to be done?"
The Shobijin lowered their eyes to the sand. "We do not know, all we can do for now is pray and give of our own energy to sustain what little of Mothra's spirit is left until we find an answer."
The Elder reached down for the Shobijin who rose and walked onto his palms. He raised them to his eye level and spoke softly. "Do not lose faith, if you were to do so our people would in turn lose their own. If that were to happen, Mothra would surely die and her love would vanish from the Earth."
The Shobijin responded by bending their knees slightly in a gesture of respect. "We will do our best."
#
A full lunar cycle passed, each night the Shobijin would go to Mothra to pray and sing her song. Each night they would give a little of their own energy in the hopes that the goddess would be revived. There were signs that their efforts made a difference, but the it never seemed to be enough. When the night of the new moon arrived, the Shobijin went to Mothra's chamber. They knelt and began to sing, tracing ancient symbols in the air before them. They could feel a measure of their spirit leave them, joining with the roiling energy that was Mothra's essence as it barely held on to reality. When the song was finished, each of them folded their hands in prayer. After hours of prayer and meditation, the Shobijin came to the same conclusion. They looked at each other and tears began to fall from their eyes. "In order to save Mothra, we must die. Our spirits must become one with hers."
The first Shobijin called Moll, who was the taller of them, spoke to the other. "We must search for our successors."
The Second Shobijin called Lora responded, "A ceremony must be held. I pray there are those among the people who are worthy." Without another word, they came to their feet and left the chamber intent on speaking to the tribe's Elder.