Chapter Six: Revelation
Outside, a tempest brewed, its fury palpable in the air, carrying the unmistakable scent of rain. The window screen rattled fiercely, startling Hatsu from a fitful dream. She sat up, the abrupt drop in temperature sending shivers down her spine as the cool breeze swept through the room.
Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she blinked against the darkness, her long, back hair spilling over the futon's edge. Through the thin screen divider that separated her from the rest of the teahouse, the room appeared still. Briefly, she considered waking her sister who slept in the adjoining room. But Hatsu knew better than to disturb Himiko with her tales of ghosts and demons. Tonight, she would confront her troubles alone.
Wrapping herself in a thin blanket, she crossed the room and slid open the window, inviting the cool rain to brush against her cheeks as she peered out into the storm. The night usually brought solace, but now it only intensified her mounting fear. Her thoughts drifted to the red-eyed stranger, his ominous words lingering in her mind like a haunting melody.
The world eats girls like you. Good girls. Scared girls. If you don't learn to control your hatred, a curse will come for you.
"Hatred?" Hatsu murmured, her brow furrowing in confusion. Hatred for what? The life she was born into? The people who saw her as nothing more than a servant? Or perhaps it was the resentment toward her own helplessness in the face of it all. She harbored a dark secret, one that placed her in a perilous position.
From the time she could walk, Hatsu was instructed to conceal her unique ability – the power to perceive dark entities that lurked in the world around her. Her mother had warned her that divulging these visions would disgrace the family and lead to their banishment from the village. The villagers were ruthless toward those they deemed dangerous, resorting to violence against those touched by evil. Thus, Hatsu was forbidden from every acknowledging her ability, compelled to safeguard this secret out of fear.
Yet, she couldn't completely ignore her visions. They lingered in the periphery, growing stronger and more insistent with each passing day. She could see things in the river – strange apparitions clustering in the reeds, their presence menacing. Sometimes, they gathered around Lady Gojohara, who seemed plagued by dark emotions at times. Part of her yearned to comprehend this unique gift and learn how to protect herself, while another part trembled at the potential consequences. Would she ever find acceptance, or would she forever be forced to conceal her true nature?
You have a lot of hatred in you for one so young, Hatsumi. That rage will attract misfortune if you don't learn to control it. I could help you.
Hatred. Yes, she acknowledged, she harbored resentment. Resentment toward being treated as an unwanted burden by her family, denied any semblance of choice or freedom. Anger towards the villagers who might persecute her if they discovered her secret.
These emotions simmered beneath the surface, unexpressed yet palpable. Her mother had raised her to be compliant, submissive. But the red-eyed stranger saw through the façade, glimpsing the resentment festering within.
Hatsu realized she could no longer ignore her gift. The visions, the dark entities lurking at the edges of her sight – they grew increasingly real. The red-eyed stranger was the first person to recognize her potential, hinting at a different path should she dare to embrace it. There were others like her, and this knowledge kept her tossing and turning at night, torn between fear and curiosity.
Her thoughts settled unexpectedly on the young monk from yesterday, Apo. He was the only other person she knew who had seen something extraordinary. Despite village superstition, the monks were a brotherhood of learned men who communed with otherworldly forces. They had access to books and scrolls and an extensive education that spanned anything the common folk knew. He had also treated her with kindness, smiling in a way that soothed her.
"He might be able to help me," Hatsu thought aloud, as the idea began to take shape.
Before she could dwell on the idea further, a sudden convulsion sprang from beneath her. The floor shook, jolting her from her rumination and she quickly realized it was an earth tremor. The once-quiet teahouse was filled with an unsettling commotion. A particularly violent tremor knocked Hatsu to her knees, and she watched as cracks spiderwebbed across the floor. The teahouse groaned in protest, centuries-old timber and plaster threatening to give way against the earth's tremors.
Glancing up through the window, Hatsu watched as birds scattered into the night sky, their panicked cries piercing the silence. As she staggered back to the window, every sense became heightened by the sudden upheaval.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the mountain that loomed high above the river valley. But where the peak should have stood majestically, there was now only emptiness. The entire top of the mountain had vanished, as if it had been sliced clean off by an unseen force.
Hatsu's grip on the windowsill was so tight, her knuckles turned white. Once again, the ground shook beneath her as violent tremors ripped through the landscape. The peaceful river had transformed into a raging beast, its waters overflowing and crashing against its banks under the relentless downpour of rain. In the midst of this chaos, tree branches and debris danced wildly in the floodwaters, slamming into the riverbanks with terrifying force.
As Hatsu looked out into the distance, her eyes widened with terror as she saw the great dragon spirit that lived within the river. Its body was a combination of swirling water and shimmering scales. Its massive form rose up, its eyes glowing like bolts of lightning as it let out a deafening roar. The creature thrashed about, stirring up the already tumultuous current and destroying the bridge that stretched across the embankment. Helplessly, she watched as boat docks crumbled and were swept away by the unforgiving storm.
She knew then, with a bone-deep certainty, that this was no ordinary storm but a manifestation of some dark supernatural force. Lightning flashed once more, briefly illuminating a dark aura where the mountain peak ought to have stood.
Hatsu's mind raced with questions as chaos unfolded around her. Had Tanasuya failed? Was Master Sho right - she was nothing more than a signal of imminent disaster? Was the stranger somehow involved in this uproar?
The village watch post sounded the alarm, the loud bell ringing out in a frantic rhythm, echoing through the valley. The villagers, jolted from their sleep by the violent tremors and strange thunder, stumbled out of their homes in a daze. Some were still half-dressed, others clutching their loved ones close as they made their way to the nearest evacuation point.
As Hatsu stood transfixed by the tumultuous storm outside, Himiko bustled into the room, her steps quick and purposeful. "Hatsumi, what are you doing? Get away from there!" she ordered, impatient, as she glanced at her sister who seemed lost in a world of her own. She held a lantern with a blanket draped over her head to shield herself from the torrential pour. Others moved behind her, the teahouse abuzz with frantic activity as servants hurried to secure the building against the raging storm.
Hatsu turned to face Himiko, her expression a blend of fear and bewilderment. "Himiko, you need to see this," she urged, gesturing toward the window. "The mountain peak, it's gone!"
Himiko's brow furrowed in disbelief as she approached the window, her eyes scanning the landscape outside. "Gone? What are you talking about?" There was a hint of frustration in her voice, tempered by a flicker of concern as she peered out into the storm.
"The mountaintop that overlooks the river," Hatsu explained as if her sister hadn't heard her properly. "It's vanished, Himiko. Just look!"
Himiko's skepticism was visible as she surveyed the scene outside, her expression shifting from confusion to suspicion. "I don't see anything, Hatsumi," she murmured exasperatedly, her gaze lingering on her sister with evident distrust. "Are you sure you're not imagining things again?"
Hatsu's heart sank at the dismissal in her sister's tone, a pang of frustration welling up inside her. "I'm not imagining it, Himiko," she insisted, begging her to believe her for once. "Something's happening out there, something…," she paused, glancing around them to ensure they wouldn't be overheard, "supernatural."
Himiko's face hardened instantly as she turned away from the window, her patience wearing thin. "Honestly, Hatsumi, I can't deal with this right now," she snapped, shaking her head in disbelief. "You know not to discuss that here of all places. You forget yourself. People could be listening," she chastised her severely. "We need to focus on getting to higher ground before the storm worsens. Whatever you think you saw, ignore it."
Hatsu's frustration spiked as she watched her sister retreat from the window, leaving her alone with her unsettling thoughts. Her mind spun with fear and confusion as she tried to make sense of the situation. Was this some kind of cruel joke or a bizarre coincidence? Why was her sister unwilling to acknowledge that the mountain peak was missing? Deep down, she knew that there was something sinister at play. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered with her, making her doubt everything she thought she knew about the world.
Hatsu, feeling a chill run down her spine, turned away from the window and the storm outside. She looked at her sister, her heart heavy with a mix of fear and frustration. For a moment, she considered staying quiet, but the image of the vanished mountain was too disturbing to ignore. She knew she had to trust her intuition, even if it meant standing against her own sister.
For one thing was certain—she couldn't hide from the truth any longer. The time had come to confront her fears, to embrace her gift, and to unravel the mysteries that lay shrouded in darkness. She couldn't remain helpless like this anymore.
Little did she know, the true test of her strength had only just begun.
. . . . . . . .
In just a split second, everything changed. Mirai went from facing certain death in the shrine to standing on familiar white sand. But this time, there was no fear or exposure to the elements. Instead, the warm and vibrating ground welcomed her with open arms, while the vast night sky spread out above her. She felt a gentle pull from the dunes, urging her to lay down and rest, and she finally let go of the tension in her shoulders. In the distance, voices rose up in song from the nearby hills, creating a soft melody that carried across the ivory desert like whispers on the wind.
Come, our dear one, our dear one, fall into our warm and dark embrace. Guided by love and light, beneath the flames, we drift. The fire burns, the dancer learns. Guided by eternal stillness and breath, in the darkness we find our death. So dance.
Feeling drowsy, Mirai took a tentative step forward and the sand shifted beneath her feet, molding itself around her soles. She inhaled sharply in awe, realizing the ground was responding to her presence. Reaching out hesitantly, she touched the sand and was surprised by how soft and warm it felt against her skin, almost silken. As she trailed her fingers through it, ripples unfurled under her touch, decorating the surface in swirls.
Each time you enter the void, it becomes more welcoming, said a voice she had come to recognize. It was ancient and pure, touching her mind like a caress. With only a fleeting thought, if you go willingly, your mind will remain intact. Dread the darkness and it will only ensnare you deeper within its thrall. Quiet your mind, and you will always rediscover the light. Thus, you will master maitri.
Mirai straightened quickly and turned. The same spectral figure stood across from her, draped in sheer folds of dark cloth, obscuring any defining features of their body or face. Shadows swirled and danced around them, as if a living, breathing part of their shroud. They were tall and slender, with arms raised in a beckoning gesture.
You have no reason to fear me, child, the figure spoke gently with a hint of sorrow. You are as much a daughter to me as the magic that now binds us. Our souls are interwoven, daughter of my heart.
The voice entered her mind, urging her to let go of her doubts, but Mirai couldn't shake off her suspicions.
"How can I trust you?"she argued, remembering all that the water spirit had shared with her. A hundred korai had been chosen, summoned by the spirit of mercy to answer her call to vanquish an ancient curse. How was Mirai to know she wasn't a lamb being led to the slaughter? "You're no mother of mine," she continued warily. "You're nothing more than a name spoken in deference. A myth."
The shadowy figure rippled out of focus, the shroud melting into a familiar face with indigo eyes rimmed in silver and long chestnut hair. Mirai watched her transformation with alarm, catching her breath.
Do you trust this form more? I could alter my face if it pleases you, offered the divine blessing. Perhaps you would feel more at ease conversing with your sister?
"No," whispered Mirai, shaking her head. Even though she was a perfect imitation of the elder korai, Mirai could still perceive the illusion woven with threads of glamour. It held none of her warmth, her compassion, her smiling laughter that brightened her entire face. This Nagisa was sharp and intimidating. Mirai had to look away. "I'd prefer you didn't," she said tersely. "I'd rather see your true form."
My true form? echoed the figure as if they were drawing upon long lost information.
Again, the figure wavered out of focus, and an eerily beautiful woman stepped out of the floating shroud. She had alabaster skin and ivory-gold hair that rippled down her shoulders and spilled out across the sand in thick rivulets. Her eyes were crystalline, refracting inner light like faceted gems. Her lashes provided just enough contrast, glints of gold in her unnaturally white visage. From the back of her pale frock unfurled six wings shaped like a falcon's, golden and flecked with dark markings reminiscent of eyes. A symbol glowed on her brow, similar curved lines tracing her clavicles and chest. Mirai examined her gold markings, and the divine blessing smiled softly as she spread her wings.
Maitri leaves its mark on the body, she explained, when there is an overabundance of light, it crystallizes and gilds. When there is an overabundance of darkness, it festers and blackens. You too will develop such markings as you learn to harness your power. It will grant you the ability to fly as I have - to transcend worlds.
Mirai wasn't convinced of the woman's sincerity, but she could now understand that this shrouded figure was the elusive spirit of mercy. Tanasuya.
This realization should have been met with earth-shattering awe, but Mirai took a step back, still wary of the winged figure before her. Though Tanasuya spoke gently, her true motives remained unclear.
"My lady," Mirai addressed her more formally, lowering herself onto her knees in a show of respect, "forgive me, but I still don't understand why you've chosen me. Of all the korai, what makes me worthy of this 'gift' you claim to offer?"
Tanasuya softened her features, tucking her wings tightly against her back as she reached down and lifted Mirai back onto her feet. I do not choose based on worthiness, child, she said with a hint of amusement. I am drawn to those with potential, with inner light that yearns to shine. You may doubt yourself, but I see your strength. With training, you will master the darkness that threatens our world.
Her words gave Mirai pause.
"But you're here. You exist. Why do you reside in this dark place?"Mirai asked her. "Why must you operate through another?"
It made no sense to her why the divine blessing would exist in this barren realm. The air was stagnant, void of any sounds or smells. The monochromatic landscape stretched for miles, and she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness and desolation. It was as if life itself had been sucked out of the world.
The void is beyond existence, Tanasuya explained softly, sighing. Here alone is where I can maintain the seal for all eternity, preventing Anatu from escaping into the mortal realm.
The sand shifted, exposing scales along the surface that glinted like black diamonds.
"The curse," said Mirai.
Yes, you have crossed paths before. He is a sheshanaga, a cosmic serpent accursed to eternally consume his own tail, said Tanasuya as they watched it slither under the sand. Anatu is the unity of all things, material and spiritual, which never disappear but perpetually change form in an eternal cycle of ruin and renewal. He is the unity of opposites, the first master of maitri. He seeks to devour the world in order to recreate it.
"The great misfortune forcing the gods' favor..." Mirai deduced slowly, as she scrutinized the divine blessing. "His namesake is what created you."
Tanasuya's expression hardened, her gaze drifting into the distance as if lost in memories of ages past. Created, yes, she murmured, more to herself than to Mirai. But not by the gods. A sharpness filled her crystalline eyes and they suddenly shifted color to a bright ochre, her wings coming to wrap around her body as if in solace. If ever I was shown favor, I lived too long to remember, she said bitterly.
Mirai furrowed her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Tanasuya studied Mirai closely, her mannerisms less like a benevolent spirit and more like a bird of prey. The intensity of her gaze seemed to pierce through Mirai as her eyes continued to shift in color from ochre to brass to a deep umber. It was enough to steal the air in Mirai's lungs as she felt power vibrate in the air. Long ago, a grave mistake was made, she explained at last. A choice that threatened to unleash darkness upon the world, a darkness that now seeks to consume all in its path. It has been my burden to hold it back ever since…but I am growing tired. My light is weakening. And Anatu grows stronger.
"But you're the spirit of mercy," Mirai argued, "You are the only one strong enough to vanquish darkness."
Tanasuya's smile was bittersweet. I am but a ghost, Mirai, she confessed. A conduit through which the divine seeks to right the wrongs of the past. If the gods offer their support, it is without my knowledge.
Mirai's mind raced with questions, each one leading her further down the path of confusion. The woman before her now was challenging everything she had learned in the shrine. "And what of the void? This…Anatu…" she ventured. "Is there no way to stop him?"
Tanasuya's gaze softened, filled with a mixture of sadness and hope. You, child, she said quietly, her words carrying the weight of prophecy. As my living vessel, you are now an extension of my power. Together, we can seal Anatu before he escapes.
Mirai's heart pounded in her chest, the enormity of her destiny crashing over her like a tidal wave. "But how?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
It is not a matter of stopping Anatu, but understanding him, said Tanasuya, her voice carrying a wisdom born from experience. You possess the power to master the darkness, to restore balance to the world. I have faith that you can end this curse once and for all, freeing more than just my soul.
At her words, the landscape shifted, revealing the strange shapes Mirai had captured a glimpse of the last time she found herself in the void. Countless figures hovered above the sands, spread out with their bodies draped in the same black shroud that Tanasuya had worn. Soon, hushed whispers filled the air with that same haunting song that urged Mirai to sink into a deep and bottomless sleep.
Come, our dear one, our dear one, rest in our arms of freedom. Sink into the ether and join our eternal hum as we cry for those who burn beneath the flames. Our love is yours, our heart - the fallen names. The good, the brave, the broken and enslaved.
Mirai's heart raced as she gazed upon the countless figures floating above the sands of the void. She felt all the air in her lungs evaporate as she stood, stricken, by the realization that this was the final resting place of the previous divine blessings. These were the korai that had been chosen by Tanasuya, their souls trapped in this desolate realm for all eternity.
A hand on her shoulder broke her daze, and Mirai turned to Tanasuya who peered at her with great sorrow.
I can teach you your power, Tanasuya promised her. If you have the courage to embrace maitri, I can teach you.
Mirai took a step back, her mind reeling. This was too much, too fast. She had wanted answers, yes, but instead found herself hurtling towards a fate she couldn't begin to comprehend. How many of the figures had stood in her place and been promised the same help?
"I'm just a priestess," she said, shaking her head. "This power you speak of...how do you know I can wield it?"
Tanasuya drifted closer, her gaze softening. You underestimate your importance, child. There is a spark within you, I can see it clear as day. With training, you can harness it to bring light where there is only darkness.
Mirai bit her lip. Part of her wanted to accept Tanasuya's offer, to explore the unknown depths of her power. But the rational part of her mind recoiled at the idea. She would be meddling with forces beyond her control, playing with much more than fire. What if she only made things worse?
Tanasuya reached out, her hand touching Mirai's forehead. A rush of warmth spread through her, and for a brief moment, she saw glimpses of the power Tanasuya spoke of. It was overwhelming, terrifying, but also...beautiful. As the vision faded, Mirai was left with a lingering sense of awe and fear.
I know the burden is heavy, child, Tanasuya said gently. But the choice is ultimately yours to make. Accept my offer and walk the path of maitri or remain here and join us in the void.
"What of the others? The shrine?" Mirai asked. "What will happen to them?"
Despite her reservations, Mirai was bound to her sisters. She would not abandon them to the same fate if she could help it. Tanasuya remained silent, her expression grim. It was all Mirai needed to understand that the stakes were exceptionally high and that there would be no going back to the way things were before.
Her hands trembled as she stared at Tanasuya. The choice before her was daunting, terrifying even. Yet, deep down, she knew there was no turning back. She couldn't just walk away from this, not when the fate of her sisters and the entire world hung in the balance.
"I'll do it," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tanasuya's eyes shifted back to their crystalline brilliance, a small smile tugging at her lips. I am glad you have chosen this path, child. It will not be easy but know that you are not alone.
Mirai felt marginally better knowing she would have the divine blessing's support and guidance.
Now, to discuss the matter of your companion. Tanasuya summoned the silhouette of her assailant, his jagged outline looming before them with fingers curled like claws at his side. Mirai instinctively flinched, still reeling from the pain of their earlier encounter. She could feel his bloodlust, his intent to kill her as strongly as her own heartbeat. Relax, Tanasuya bade her gently, I have declawed him for you. The only harm he's capable of inflicting now is upon himself.
"What do you mean you've declawed him?" Mirai replied, sounding exasperated. "He can inflict harm without so much as lifting a finger."
He could, the spirit of mercy amended. Now, his soul is tethered to a new contract. One that better serves you.
Mirai watched as a golden mandala spread across his chest. She quickly realized that it was a spell, intricately woven into a complex design. Only Tane, The High Priestess, was able to weave such complicated designs, and yet hers were a fraction of the brilliance Tanasuya conjured now. Mirai narrowed her eyes, dissecting the arrangement. The swirling patterns behaved like written characters; golden calligraphy suspended in space. "This is a purification spell," she said, astonished by her own ability to distinguish its purpose.
A spell of atonement, agreed Tanasuya, nodding appreciatively. Though I cannot tamper with free will, I can provide a much broader horizon for one's spirit to expand. He will not be able to cause you harm without feeling it doubly himself.
Mirai's mind whirled with confusion and disbelief as Tanasuya's words sank in. She struggled to reconcile the sinister figure before her with the notion that he was now somehow bound to her.
"But why?" Mirai asked, her voice tinged with both incredulity and a hint of fear. "Why would you do this? He destroyed everything. The shrine - the kodama! He won't be of any help to me in sealing Anatu. He'd sooner watch me perish."
Tanasuya's expression softened, her gaze distant as if lost in memories of ages past. This human is a creature of chaos and despair. I touched his soul and read his mind to know this for certain, she explained. But even the darkest souls crave redemption. Your presence, Mirai, offers him a chance at salvation.
Mirai's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of Tanasuya's words. The idea that she held such power over a being as deadly and malicious as Sukuna seemed unfathomable.
He will serve you, Tanasuya continued, her tone resolute. Not out of loyalty or obedience, but out of a newfound purpose - to atone for his past sins. You may be able to draw him back from his curse and teach him to harness the power of maitri as well.
Mirai's gaze drifted back to the figure before her, still cloaked in shadows despite Tanasuya's assurances. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air, a nagging doubt that whispered of dangers yet to come.
As Tanasuya faded from view, leaving Mirai alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder what price she would ultimately pay for wielding such power over darkness itself.
Do not be afraid. I will be there to assist you in handling this adversary. Let go of your fear, Mirai, and you will be drawn back to the light. You must do this now.
"He'll kill me," Mirai protested, shaking her head. "Your mark has made me mortal. He is a formidable fighter."
So are you, Tanasuya consoled her. Your hesitation will trap you here, child. You must not be afraid. I cannot guarantee your safety, but I will do everything in my power to assist you.
Mirai took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves as she prepared to face him once more. Despite Tanasuya's reassurances, the thought of his presence still filled her with unease. She knew the spirit of mercy spoke truth - this man had caused tremendous suffering but had the potential to face atonement for his sins. But could she trust the spell? Could a soul so steeped in malice truly change?
She thought back to her lessons with Nagisa, remembering the priestess's gentle guidance. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that, Nagisa had told her. We must meet evil with good, meet hate with love. It is the only path to peace.
Nagisa had also warned her of the peril in judging others too harshly. None among us are beyond redemption if they seek it earnestly. We must temper justice with mercy.
Mirai looked into the menacing shadow before her, searching for that thin glimmer of light within. She knew Tanasuya would not have intervened if she did not also see potential there. Steeling herself, Mirai nodded. Tanasuya reached out, placing a finger against the mark on her brow. Trust in yourself, she whispered, her touch imbued with a warmth that banished the chill from Mirai's bones. And remember, the answers you seek lie within.
Mirai felt the sands dissolve beneath their feet, but quickly realized she was suspended in air as Tanasuya spread her powerful wings and launched them both into the black sky.
It is a daunting task, but I have faith in you, daughter of my heart. Now let go.
A/N: This chapter came together faster than I anticipated. Hopefully, the quality has not suffered from it. We're moving right along. :D
Thank you for reading!
Until next time,
Lavendermoonmilk