Pool of Memories and Serpents

Hidekazu and Chizue followed a few feet behind the horse and cart that morning, trailing with their mares while chatting with priestesses. The priestess’ spirit he devoured last night restored the spring in his step, lessened the shadow over his mind. With surprising vigour, he was ready to face the final leg of their journey to the Seika Shrine. Ginkgo and cedar thickened along the road, fanning out in carefully cultivated patterns. “I recognize this path,” Hidekazu murmured. “We’re almost there.” Asuka’s hair was pinned up high over her scalp, neat and poised in a fashion that seemed far too complicated to accomplish while travelling. “I didn’t realize you’d made the pilgrimage to the shrine.” She narrowed her eyes, having been watchful of him since she witnessed him with Priestess Gina last night. “Why didn’t you say so before?” Sadness and fear carved deep into Hidekazu’s bones emerged, the leftovers from the deceased priestess who had shocked him with her request. Yet, at the same time, those feelings were his own, awakened by the memories of what had happened the last time he was at the Seika Shrine. It was a time, and a state of mind, he would prefer not to return to. “Youko Ryoka saved my life.” He quirked a hesitant smile, keeping his eyes trained on the slats on the cart ahead. “After a friend of mine convinced her I was worth the effort.” A quiet gasp came from Asuka. “You met her? The shrine kami?” “She came to me in a dream as a rather vicious fox.” “I heard she had a dangerous side, though, from the stories I’ve heard, it can take a lot to get her there. Do I want to know why she saw you as a threat?” She laughed, but Hidekazu understood the remark for what it was. “Look, we’re here. You’ll have to tell me more after you meet Kannushi Kiaria.” The trees parted to the familiar ruins Hidekazu had visited almost three years ago. Most of the structures in the tiny village were still destroyed remnants, but he never had the chance to see the shrine in its full glory. He only saw the destruction imparted upon it by demons which had since been eradicated. The kami statue at the centre of the village square had been restored. Dark green stone depicted a woman with four bushy tails, the powerful fox spirit named O-Hinagiku, a deity of healing and fertility. The only other structure restored so far was the shrine proper. The ruins had been cleared out, and fresh cedar pillars hewed to rebuild the structure’s skeleton. Most of the walls were in place, but the roof was still a work-in-progress, with patchwork tiles appearing like a partially descaled fish. A dozen other priestesses and acolytes milled about, some giving Hidekazu and Chizue a side-eye once they realized the pair were outsiders. “They’re just curious.” Asuka smirked. “Also, you looked like demons chewed you up and spewed you out. They see a story worth telling.” Hidekazu had hardly thought of what he might look like after the ordeal with the dark dragon spirit. Though Asuka had healed him and Chizue after the fight, and washed most of the blood from their skin, Hidekazu’s clothes were torn, and Chizue had leaves and dirt in her hair. “They wouldn’t be wrong to assume so,” he pointed out. “As amusing as Kiaria might find your tale, it’s improper to see her looking like that.” “The kannushi travelling with us didn’t seem to mind.” “That’s different.” Asuka pursed her lips, a flash of irritation crossing her face. “You should know better, shouldn’t you? Your mother was the High Priestess.” “Is. She’s not dead.” “She resigned, but that’s not the point. The point is Kannushi Kiaria was favoured by the High Priestess before she disappeared. Rumour says she was being trained as a successor. You will approach her with respect deserved of her status.” The statement caught Hidekazu off guard, and when Chizue placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, he leaned into her touch. “The High Priestess never took favourites amongst the priestesses,” Hidekazu said. “Are you sure?” A long time ago, Sachi had tried to train Hidekazu as a priest and potential successor, and that was why he thought she wouldn’t choose amongst the priestesses. That had been years ago, and after he took a different path in life, she never brought up the subject of a successor ever again. Had he been so full of himself to believe Sachi never had a contingency plan? She was a scheming, secretive woman, after all. “If it is as you say,” he decided, “if the High Priestess took notice of Kannushi Kiaria, then she deserves the same respect afforded my mother from me.” He was eager to meet her even if she was only a kannushi and not amongst the higher ranks of priestesses. What if she had insight into how to find Sachi and rescue the imprisoned sacred serpents—the last living one and those spiritually enslaved? The bathhouse was exquisite, reminiscent of the mineral springs onsen that were so coveted in Nagasou. After the last few days Hidekazu had, he could lay in the steaming pools for days, rejuvenating his body and spirit. But every time he laid back, closed his eyes, and let the heat relax his muscles, strange tremors rioted within the fabric of his being. He would shoot up from his dozing-off state, panting. Neither Tatsuma nor Gina would let him rest. Their demands and expectations were silent prayers inside his head. Claim the void, the darkness, the true reaches of your power. To which Hidekazu silently screamed he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He had lost access to true void, the fifth element he should possess courtesy of his dragon blood, because his spirit was no longer whole. Cleanse the land. Cleanse yourself. The priestess’s voice counteracted the dark dragon’s deception and cruelty, but the promised knowledge on how to defeat Tatsuma did not come. Gina was gone, and the knowledge Hidekazu required did not materialize. Instead, he floated in the hot springs, turning over everything she’d told him. She claimed he would find what he needed once he devoured her spirit, which hadn’t happened, but she had also mentioned the role of the spirit pool. Hidekazu wasn’t a lost cause yet. Once he met Kiaria and went to the spirit pool, he was confident the next steps would become apparent. Gina’s intense emotions peeled away at the edge of Hidekazu’s relaxation until he finally gave in, freshly determined to complete his new objective. After drying off, he found a fresh kimono, hakama, and haori overcoat folded for him in the changing room. They were plain slate grey and, unlike his bushi uniform, had two sleeves, but here at the Seika Shrine, Hidekazu didn’t feel the need to brandish his irezumi or his status as a royal bushi. Most of the time, he didn’t feel like one anyway. He’d hardly performed any bushi duties in over a year. Although for how many times he saved the shōgun’s life during his short service, in his opinion, he had earned retirement by now. But she would never give him an easy out; honestly, neither would he. Aihi was his sister. Even during the times that he hated her, he loved her. Hidekazu changed and left the bath house. Though priestesses were wandering about, performing various duties, there was no one he recognized. He didn’t see Chizue, either, although that wasn’t unexpected; she would surely take her time in the bath since it might be a long time before they had another. With the promise of meeting Kiaria delayed for the time being, Hidekazu’s wandering feet soon brought him to the charred garden gate behind the building that had once been Youko Ryoka’s home. On the other side, nine neat grave plots were lined against the fence—the ones he and Masanori had dug together after the m******e here several years ago. Although Hidekazu knew none of their names except the priestess, he had seen how much his twin cared for the people who lived here. The excruciating pain that came from being unable to protect them from the demons who destroyed the shrine. On the plot at the farthest end, bright tiger lilies sprouted on the otherwise unmarked grave. Hidekazu knelt at the foot of the burial place, bowing his head into the fresh summer grass. “O venerable priestess, hear my prayer. I owe you a debt many times over for the care and consideration you spent on me and my brother,” Hidekazu murmured. “You saved our lives; I only wish we could have saved yours. But your spirit is not gone, nor your work left unfinished. Give me your demand, and I will serve.” A gust of wind picked up, and his long hair waved along with the breeze. The fence creaked, and then one of the tiger lilies snapped from its stem and rose up, up, up. Then the wind died, sending the intact flower floating into Hidekazu’s outstretched hand. He cradled the long, orange and black freckled petals. The heat of ki came from the flower, though he wasn’t sure why. Most plants were naturally filled with energy, but these blossoms were charged with an extra boost. The only reason that came to mind was that they grew on the remains of a kami, a revered spirit. “You have a connection with the shrine’s kami,” a voice came from behind. “You knew her before she died?” Hidekazu searched over his shoulder to find a woman who couldn’t be more than a few years older than him passing through the gate to the graveyard. Her long black hair was threaded with silver ribbons and braided into elaborate patterns along her scalp and hanging down her shoulders. The long blue robes hugging her shoulders and hips were familiar to him as the regalia worn by the mid-ranking priestesses of Shirashi. She had to be Kannushi Kiaria. “I didn’t know her, no. I met her, but that is very different.” His gaze fell back to the lumpy grave, the speckled grass and orange flowers covering the top. “It was my brother who knew her. Did you?” Kiaria joined him in the grass. “I never had the honour. Few did. She designed this shrine so only those she deemed worthy would ever find passage here.” “I know.” “You don’t think of yourself as worthy, do you? Yet you met her, and I did not.” “She wanted to kill me. She thought I was vile, wicked…” Hidekazu let out a deep sigh. “And considering the circumstances I find myself in now, perhaps she was not wrong to wish to strike me down.” “We all stray from the path of righteousness from time to time, especially those who believe they should have died but did not.” He twirled the lily between his forefinger and his thumb. “By now, I should be used to being a survivor. But I often find survival exhausting.” “That is a natural response. Why you when so many others have perished? It is not for you to decide who lives or dies, but to live to the fullest and remember those who did not have your fortune and blessings.” In many respects, Hidekazu had hardened himself to the outside world—he believed he had seen everything. Experienced pain few others dreamed of comprehending. And he came out the other side of his trials and tribulations with a renewed willingness to grasp the dark power he’d denied himself before. The major difference was that the door to the full breadth of his power was now closed. Hidekazu didn’t know why, but he suspected it was due to his damaged spirit. “How do I honour those lost when I cannot honour myself, let alone those who still survive?” Hidekazu said. Kiaria gave him a broad smile. “That is a feat we must all learn for ourselves. For one such as you, who has led a complicated life, you might find your balance is more troublesome to reach than most. But it is out there, somewhere in the vast cosmos of Shirashi’s embrace.” Could the constant hunger to be whole again be a side effect of Shirashi’s bloodline? To devour spirits and make them writhe and suffer as he snuffed them out and brought them into himself? The urge made him sick. It excited him. It was wrong, and yet he couldn’t help himself. But what if this hunger was a part of him now, a trait he had to live with regardless of his spirit’s state? “The spirit pool. Do you think it can help me?” “Anything is possible when the spirits are involved.” Kiaria splayed her hands in the grass, threading fingers through vibrant strands. “I do not know much about spirit pools—I came here to learn more about it, what having one so close would mean to our spiritual practices.” Hidekazu breathed in the essence of Kiaria’s spirit. She captured the delicate distillate of cherry blossoms, infused with a light, crisp green tea. Refined scents for a refined woman. What would Aihi’s spirit taste like? Perhaps sun-ripened persimmon, ginger, and roasted chestnuts. Or perhaps like cedar bark and sage. He clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t carry on like this, always on the verge of losing control and devouring the closest spirit. What kept him from acting right now was the mere inconvenience of Kiaria’s spirit being attached to a living body which would not be pleased with the prospect of giving it up. And that realization was chilling. He cleared his throat. Stopped breathing through his nose to dampen as much of the smell as possible. “Was rebuilding the shrine your idea?” “No. I am not high-ranked enough to make such decisions for the Priestesses of Shirashi.” She paused, her lips pursing somewhat before she met his gaze. “Your mother sent me here.” A puff of breath left Hidekazu’s lungs, disbelief and yet hopeful. He hadn’t expected Kiaria to broach the topic of the former High Priestess without nudging on his behalf, or so soon. “She’s been gone for almost two years now.” “The Silent Hills has struggled with restless spirits for far longer, Master Genshu. I began my studies alongside Genshu Sachi, the High Priestess, shortly after the first hauntings began about four years ago.” “And you’re a kannushi already? I might not be an expert on the inner workings of Shirashi’s temples, but I was sure you seemed young for your rank. Not that that’s bad, mind you—look at me. I wasn’t supposed to become a bushi so young, either.” “It’s a recent appointment; the coalition that took over in the High Priestess’ absence awarded me the responsibility.” Her smile grew wicked, discontent, and Hidekazu sensed an unexpected point of tension. “They believed I performed the last request of the High Priestess before her disappearance to such perfection that I deserved exile here in the forest while I rebuild the shrine.” Hidekazu glanced away from Kiaria and the graves, searching over the vast expanse of bright green leaves—the ginkgo, the cedar, the richness of the forest. “If this is exile, then perhaps it is not so bad. Though I wonder what earned you the punishment if the forest was cleansed as expected.” “The problem is that it wasn’t. My acolytes and the kannushi of the Tsukiko Shrine told me you encountered one such spirit on your way through the woods. It was my duty to see this land healed, and I failed…” “Spirits are a complicated matter. Perhaps I do not know the internal politics of the temples so well, but the spirit”—He placed a hand over his breastbone, a doorway to his spirit, and felt his essence rise and fluctuate at his touch—“that is a world I am familiar with. Those who do not wish to be cleansed cannot be.” “Yes, I suppose you would know from experience. The spirits still lingering…” Kiaria placed her hands on her knees and straightened her back. “They are fearsome, hungry for destruction. I hope once you are restored to your full strength, you and Bushi Chizue will remain to aid us in the purification of the forest.” Hidekazu bowed his head. “We would be honoured to support you in this endeavour. Perhaps when the job is done, the coalition will see fit to move you to a more fitting location.” There was a pained look in Kiaria’s eyes when he met hers. “If only my inadequacy in this task had been the only reason the coalition decided to hide me away for the foreseeable future.” Although Hidekazu didn’t know Kiaria well yet, she came off as a genuine person who cared about those under her charge. It was a refreshing change of pace compared to other figures of authority he had faced over the years. Even Aihi, the shōgun, forgot from time to time that the people under her command were just that—people. And Sachi had been the worst: she treated her sons like experiments. “The people who rely on the resources within the Silent Hills for survival depend on you. Perhaps this is not where you wish to be or where your talents are best utilized, but if the High Priestess entrusted you with cleansing the forest, it was for a reason.” “Of course, how silly of me.” Kiaria shook her head, and the pained emotion in her expression was replaced by embarrassment. “Please accept my apologies. We are barely acquaintances, and I saw fit to discuss these burdens with you. It’s just you remind me so much of your mother…” Hidekazu smiled, but he didn’t appreciate the comparison. Although for Kiaria and those who respected Genshu Sachi, it was a significant privilege to place him beside her in any respect. But after she left him to die, and without a connection to the power that was his birthright, she had revealed her true self to him. He wished he wasn’t related to her at all. “I suppose it is only natural,” he offered. “Perhaps another time, you will tell me about the years you spent studying beneath the High Priestess.” Kiaria perked up again, now rising to her feet. “Of course. I would be honoured to share those stories with you. But first things first… you and the spirit pool. We will go at dusk to commune with the spirits there. We will find a way around your dilemma.” “Dusk, then.”