Disclaimer: I own none of the works belonging to the author(s) and game designer(s) employed by Illwinter, the makers of the Dominion series, neither do I own any of the characters, factions, monsters, and places inside said media, save for those imagined and created by me.

Chapter 4: The Turning of Wheels.

~"As strong as he is massive, the bronze colossus who'd chosen for himself the name Anaximander ruled over the fledgling kingdom of Ermor, a nation once under the throes of a cruel necromancer until he stomped her into a bloody paste. Hot-blooded and brash, there has never been a time when he and I haven't butt heads until either our master Narayana or our companion Nebuk broke up the fights. However, whenever he wasn't also metaphorically a metalhead, Anaximander was a bulwark on which no one regretted placing their trust."~

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Three months later...

Banks of the Ishikawa River

"Have you heard about Daimyo Tsubasa allowing his third son to organize his own band of raiders to take on the bakemono, much like that Tatsu fellow of the Hideyoshi Clan? He would be the fifth one this month!"

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Inaba-san. The boy seems like the type who's good at avoiding attention to himself, plus he got a good head on his shoulders."

"I wouldn't have allowed any of my sons to fight so dishonorably, Hiro-san! People of his station need to inspire the levies and samurai by leading and fighting in the open, not skulking amid trees and brush like shinobi!"

"Eh, whatever aids Her Divinity in her quest. Speaking of which, your clan joined the Coalition a few days ago, right? You'd probably heard about what she did to those samurai who defied her ban on seppuku the morning after she'd put it into effect, as well as those who helped them."

"Did you have to remind me of the loss of our greatest honor? Still, I suppose I would rather give it up than have the sun cook the flesh off my bones, assuming of course I'm not instead forced to die slowly and in excruciating pain like a pig while other people laugh at me, so I'm told." A shiver moved throughout Inaba's body.

Inaba paused to greet a trio of his samurai passing the two before turning back to Hiro. "Of course, I bet Najima-san and his clan came out on top of all that after what, being Touma-san's lapdog? Still, he will have to contend with who is basically Touma-san returned from the grave."

"About that, I've heard Yosuke-san died just before the assault on Fujishima Castle, fell right down a flight of stairs he did! Ended the siege before anyone else was even killed. Personally, I feel his first youngest brother pushed him."

A grunt. "Regardless, that's a mess the Dawn Coalition didn't have to sort through, especially one of its founders. How is Jingū-san doing, Hiro-san? I've heard she's still suffering from battle fright since her fight with Touma-san."

"She's slowly pushing through the nightmares and the physical outbursts though her hatamoto barely managed to talk her out of personally fighting in battles. She is still keeping her fighting skills sharp in the meantime."

"It's a shame a girl so young is forced to endure the horrors of the battlefield long after the last drop of blood has dried." Only the rustling of grass in the breeze filled the pause. "Still, some of the other daimyo are grumbling about her so-called weakness and cowardice! Damn fools think she is made of iron!"

"I would admit that our bedfellows aren't the most sympathetic or patient people to depend on in our inevitable clash with the Big Three but we can't be choosy. However, what we can be choosy about is the bottles of sake I have stowed away in my tent. Care to share a few cups with me, Inaba-san?"

A light-hearted chuckle filled the air. "Lead the way, Hiro-san! I'm a bit parched myself!"

Jingū pretended to clean her iron and wood prosthetic as the two daimyo left. Warriors and blacksmiths alike chatted amid the tents displaying heraldry in various colors and designs as they bathed in the golden, afternoon rays. A few merchants who'd joined the Coalition hours ago pried their trade as their bodyguards occasionally and violently dissuaded thieves and particularly rowdy customers. Priests and spellcasters engaged in philosophical debates as cooks and servants rushed off to their destinations, carrying lunch and other valuables.

"Information is the lifeblood of influence. In order to understand what others desire and how they are to be approached, you must learn everything you can about them." Daimura's lesson resurfaced as Jingū leaned back and allowed the sunlight to caress her face. "People may close themselves off to strangers but they are eager to gossip among trusted companions."

It seems that the Tenji and Kokuma Clans are for the moment sympathetic to the cause of the Dawn Coalition. Inaba himself may even be more amenable if she brings up the topic of her battle fright and aspirations as daimyo.

Of course, Inaba does bring up a valuable point. The Dawn Coalition has grown eight clans stronger since its inception and already their alliance of convenience is being threatened. If something like perceived cowardice on her part could cause some of the daimyo to start having second thoughts despite their shared hatred of the Big Three and the bakemono, Jingū shuddered to think what would happen when the Coalition finally caught their enemies' attention. Ultimately, self-interest is at the heart of every act of cooperation.

Jingū vaguely recalled that as being the subject of another of Daimura's lectures.

After a thought, Jingū decided not to follow Inaba and Hiro. The Chosokabe daimyo was gracious to let her have the day off from her lessons and, frankly, she was ready to do something else. Jingū stretched her limbs, savoring the ache of yet another morning's training despite her prosthetic not being as flexible as a normal hand.

At least the phantom pains ended last month.

Jingū's eyes constantly drifted from face to face as she strolled through the camp, her head tilting involuntarily toward particularly interesting snippets of conversation. It seems Daimura's influence has dug its claws much deeper than she cared to admit, causing the daimyo-turned-student to focus less on the paths she trod.

"Daimyo Amaito has ingratiated himself with three more clans today. Perhaps we were wrong about the Ryutsuke Clan's aloofness."

"I bet that I could establish myself as a decent merchant if I sold food to those towns in the Hungry Valley!"

"Bah, that still counts as one!"

"Priest, what would make a good offering to Her Divinity?"

"My cousin lives near the Jomon-Shinuyama border. She says that the bakemono are in a flurry of activity near their outposts, gathering supplies with greater frequency and even drilling their warriors out in the open!"

Jingū nearly tripped at that last rumor. The Dawn Coalition is nowhere near the Jomon-Shinuyama border far to the west, not to mention that there is no way that Tatsu's activities could've agitated the bakemono there, at least not so soon. As Amaterasu pointed out, every god, priesthood, and holy order in the world would've noticed the Pantokrator's disappearance and it's an even bet that Shinigami was beginning to mobilize his forces in preparation for the coming war.

If the increase in bakemono activity near the border was related to this, the Coalition has less time than they believed. Best case scenario: Shinigami leaves the bakemono overlord in charge and the Coalition can continue to fight the Big Three while building up their strength. Of course, things can become complicated if the bakemono decide to force the warring daimyo into a white peace.

Worst case: the god of Shinuyama personally visits Jomon and the Coalition soon finds itself fighting on two fronts, destined to be snuffed out like an errant flame.

Time was running out.

Jingū yelped when she collided with Shiba, nearly bowling over the taller woman. Jingū apologized profusely to the hatamoto and was about to kowtow when she remembered herself. A daimyo simpering before a subordinate? Yet another reason for the other daimyo to abandon the Coalition!

With a warm smile, Shiba shook her head as she smoothed out her kimono. "The fault is mine alone for not paying attention to my surroundings while walking, my liege. I was distracted with thoughts of my next poem."

"Poetry isn't as much of a distraction as listening to gossip and rumors, including one unsettling tidbit," Jingū admitted, her eyes suddenly finding her sandals more interesting.

Shiba motioned to the camp with a lazy wave. "We can get distracted together, my liege. Let's walk and talk about it."

The two of them walked down another path, moving aside to let the occasional servant run past. After a few minutes, Jingū finally spoke, "I've overheard someone say their cousin saw increased bakemono activity near the border Jomon shares with Shinuyama."

The hatamoto raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you speak with the person claiming that in order to extract more information?"

"Um, I didn't bother." Jingū lowered her head slightly, playing with her thumbs. "Figured that's all he would've been able to tell me. Besides, I don't even know who said that in the first place."

"Had you known the speaker, you could've found out in what region or from what town his cousin saw the bakemono. The border does cover a large area after all. You could have even convinced him to get his cousin to gather additional information such as how many areas they are active as well as their numbers."

Jingū blinked in confusion as she regarded Shiba, who flashed her a slight grin as she slowly shook her head. "Pardon me, my liege. Habits are hard to kill."

"No kidding," the daimyo snorted. "I doubt any sum of koku would be enough to encourage our fellow to risk his cousin being captured and tortured for spying."

"True, yet my statements still have merits," Shiba explained. "Even for future conflicts, information is key for determining long-term strategies. It's easier to plan ahead if you're aware of what could potentially affect your plans in the future."

"Isn't that similar to researching people you wish to approach? Daimura-sama mentioned something of the sort."

Shiba simply giggled. "As you can tell, I don't mingle with people much but in a way Daimura-sama is correct. Though you're also anticipating the intentions of the actors and accounting them into your plans, the difference is that in grand strategy the scope is a lot more massive and the consequences of neglecting to do so are more brutal and longer-lasting."

"Should one also expect kingdoms to act in a certain way, depending on the personalities and desires of their leaders?"

"True. In most ways, organizations and factions are quite similar to individuals, only that they consist of hundreds if not thousands of people who are more or less on the same page in the best of times. Any history, bonds, and policies between the actors must also be accounted for and used to one's advantage. One could say that grand strategy is where the lines between the military, diplomacy, and politics become blurred."

Jingū gazed down the path, her eyes narrowed in thought for a few minutes before she turned back to Shiba. "Teach me."

Shiba blinked as she leaned back and regarded Jingū. "I'm surprised you're even interested in such things."

"Since this campaign started, I've shown a greater interest in diplomacy and Daimura's lessons have shown me clear connections that would help me understand and utilize it."

"But diplomacy is only part of grand strategy. What made you interested in it?"

"Remember that ronin I'd recruited on the Plains of Honshu three months ago?"

"You mean Hashi Saburo?" Jingū winced slightly at the hint of disdain that escaped Shiba's lips. Even after Saburo has proven himself clever and diligent enough to be welcomed into her circle of confidants, there were no shaking centuries-old notions of honor and taboos.

"He's the one. When we first met, Saburo-san hinted that Amaterasu might have something big planned for us, including much more than just Jomon. She would need someone who can more effectively direct our forces and supplies where they are needed and exploit opportunities in order to make sure... whatever she's planning comes true."

"And since you both share quite a bond, you want to aid her where you feel she is deficient." Shiba simply stated. The young daimyo replied with a nod.

The two of them stopped behind a tent, The closest voices were no more than eight meters away. Leaning against the coarse fabric, Shiba bit her bottom lip. "While I'm... hesitant to accept the gut feelings of a ronin, it's clear that the Dawn Coalition will need all the help it's going to get and not just in additional swords and fresh bodies. This war against the Big Three is not only a testing ground for you but everyone else and I would do your father a great disservice if I don't ensure you are capable of leading us to victory."

Shiba paused. "Of course, perhaps I should also teach you the basics of tactics first, that is, how to plan and fight a battle. Tactics is merely a puzzle piece compared to the mural that is grand strategy. Baby steps and all of that."

Jingū placed her hands together, her fingers interlocking together as she gave her hatamoto a quick bow. "Thank you so much for your instruction, Shiba-san! Daimura-sama has given me the rest of the day off so I'm free to do as I wish,"

Shiba's hands clapped two times. "Perfect! However, I must warn you that though I've often aided your father during warfare, formulating strategies and exit plans, those pertained to actions planned and executed by the Hideyoshi Clan and its allies. As a result, my experience extends to a daimyo-level scale of operations. On one hand, helping the Coalition plan its overall strategy is a huge learning experience for me and I often find myself reassessing what I've known since then and incorporating new information and realities. On the other hand, if you're aiming for something higher like, let's say Shogun-level strategies, keep in mind that would require much more effort and planning."

"Is it really that hard?"

A most unladylike snort escaped Shiba's nose. "My sweet summer child, even I wish it was that simple! I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you though. As a rule of thumb, the greater the scope of a conflict, the more consideration that is required to be given to assets and actions, especially over a much wider area."

Shiba traced a progressively widening circle around a pale spot on the material with a finger. "Figuring out how to liberate a town from a rebellion is a lot more narrowly defined than figuring out how to defeat another kingdom while isolating them from their allies."

"Regardless of their scale, both would still require information in order to be used effectively, right?"

Shiba tilted her head to the side, a big grin growing on her face as she stroked her chin. "That question alone proves that you have what it takes to be a great strategist! During the Spring and Autumn Period of T'ien Ch'i during the reign of Izanagi, one of their greatest generals established the belief that information and deception are pivots on which all victories in war turned. He believed that the proper utilization of both can enable even a fledging kingdom to defeat a superior foe."

With a yawn, Shiba paused as a low growl escaped her stomach. Jingū inadvertently giggled much to the older woman's amusement. "All of this discussion about strategy seems to be one of the few ways to work up an appetite in me. Care to join me in my tent for lunch, my liege?"

"Can I afford to be choosy with whatever casks of sake you'd stowed away inside your tent?" Jingū asked as innocently as possible.

Shiba gave a light-hearted chuckle. "I may not indulge as much in such beverages as Misato but I know I have at least one. Just don't drink too much if you're planning on attending my lecture tonight."

"Certainly, lead the way."

The two females continued their stroll amid the scents of cooked foods and the chatter of warriors and holy men, thoughts of lunch and lessons heavy on their minds.

Watching them leave, the man wearing a conical straw hat and garbed in farmer's clothing folded his arms across his chest as he lowered his head, the brim of his headwear shrouding his eyes in shadow as he focused on Jingū specifically.

His daimyo's eyes twinkled with excitement despite his impassive expression at his report of a freed goddess three months ago. It soon became apparent to the man that his new objective would be to function as the eyes and ears of his liege and his allies. Since then, he'd reported the dealings and battles of this 'Dawn Coalition', the goddess in whose name they fought, and the little girl who caught her heart. Jingū-san has only been daimyo for half a year and already the waves she made at Ama-no-Iwata threatened to pile up into a tsunami powerful enough to shake Jomon itself.

The man suppressed a chuckle as two samurai passed him, one of them giving him a disinterested glance. Their enemies won't know what hit them.

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"The high priests and the scribes are ready to transcribe your holy words, your Divinity!"

Amaterasu nodded as she stood up as best as she could inside the tent. The messenger kowtowed a second time before leaving. Though she rarely napped during the daytime, Amaterasu needed all the energy she could get to do what was expected of her as a goddess that doesn't just involve answering prayers and defending her followers. She spent the past few weeks working through ideas and ordinances she wanted to introduce to everyone, refining and organizing them into a cohesive extension of her Mandate.

When she first put forth her agenda to make this a reality, many of the priests shared an ambivalence despite their polite words and smiling faces. Sure she could tell they ultimately desired it but they still danced around it until she calmly and with repressed frustration told them to spit it out already. What she was told seemed to mirror a small doubt she harbored since the ideas first appeared in her head.

To everyone involved, it seemed way too early in the campaign to establish an organized religion and its doctrines in her name.

An understandable concern, she supposed. The Dawn Coalition has not yet gathered enough clans to stand a chance against the Big Three. Even fighting the bakemono remained a distant desire and a future concern that would hopefully not bleed into the here and now until the time was right. The survival of the Coalition according to the pragmatic superseded the establishment of any ideology at this time.

In the end, Amaterasu stood by her decision. Father once told her that mortals tend to become so complacent that any dramatic changes they are forced to make are often slow and tedious, even more so if they prefer maintaining the status quo. She intends to ensure that her teachings are the driving force behind the Jomonese' morals, beliefs, and actions and the best time to start is now. She'd learned her lesson at the Plains of Honshu on that fateful night and she can ill afford others dragging their feet because she waited too long.

Fortunately, Jomon's collectivist culture will make spreading and maintaining her teachings easier, as soon as they are accepted.

Secondly, establishing an organized religion actually has a more practical purpose. Though many clans are eager to join the Coalition, they often bring members of their priesthood with them. While these people are just as capable of providing solace and instruction to their congregations as any other, they come from different regions and backgrounds and thus follow different often conflicting doctrines. They often vigorously debated the validity of each others' beliefs and sometimes fights break out whenever a religious leader makes one disparaging remark too many. Inevitably, this leads to an unholy amount of brawls that leave men bruised, beaten, and in need of solace themselves while a confused goddess looks on.

How there could ever be so many doctrinal differences even within the same culture was something Amaterasu found hard to wrap her head around concerning these strange mortals.

Having these priests follow the same tenets and doctrines helps Amaterasu achieve one of her most important goals: creating unity. People could say what they pleased about the value of fealty, the importance of honor, and the allure of coins but few things brought people together better than faith and it's imperative that she ensured that such a thing is strengthened by her followers being at least more or less on the same page. This unified sense of direction and purpose has historically made organized religions stronger and more prolific than scattered cults and minor faiths.

Of course, such consolidation and enforcement of power and faith have historically made most organized religions and their leadership susceptible to corruption and zealotry, much to the eternal frustration of kind souls and benevolent gods. Naturally, she will have to deal with that soon.

Taking a deep breath, Amaterasu exited the tent. Almost immediately, the humans greeted her with salutations and praises. Prayers wafted into her psyche as she walked toward the clearing where the scribes and priests awaited and she answered a few along the way. The entire cluster of military encampments that housed the Coalition was surrounded by trees and dutifully patrolled by scouts and guards, ensuring that she can walk freely without being detected by their enemies or worse the bakemono. Nevertheless, the goddess longed for the day when she would finally be able to stroll freely throughout her domain without sulking around like a common thief.

The large group of humans immediately kowtowed when she arrived, their tall headdresses and peppered beards touching the white mats they sat on as the wind played with their white robes and the bits of metal sewn to them. Next to them, younger men held bundles of paper in their arms, their calligraphy brushes and inkwells carefully placed just within reach but not too close as to be accidentally knocked over. Amaterasu looked around and scanned the faces of warriors, servants, and other visitors who came to view. Per her orders, they knew to stay at a respectable distance and to remain silent.

She would not begrudge them their curiosity, of course; every momentous event requires witnesses.

"We humbly beseech your guidance in establishing your great belief system and its doctrines, your Divinity!" One of the high priests, a fencepole of a man with tanned skin heavy with age and dotted with the occasional liver spot, spoke. Ever since she met him upon her release from Ama-no-Iwato, High Priest Ito has always been the most eager to serve her, frantically awaiting her orders like a puppy expecting a treat. Of the high priests, he has been the most supportive of her desire to create an organized religion. "Our brushes and hearts are yours to command!"

Amaterasu raised an eyebrow at the scowls of disdain some of the other high priests sent his way. "Your zeal is admirable Ito and will serve as the epitome of how I expect my clergy to pursue their upcoming tasks. Now, all of you rise." The humans complied.

"Before I begin, I would like to lay down a few ground rules so that you are all clear on what is expected of you," Amaterasu began, raising her voice loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. If they wanted to witness this, they will be held just as accountable.

"First," Amaterasu held up a finger. Her eyes hardened slightly as her back straightened. "I expect my words to be written down verbatim, exactly as I've said them. I will tolerate no dumbing down or any flowery prose. Do not think I won't be looking over what you've written after we're finished here."

"You're more than welcome to write down annotations when you get your copy but only to aid those reading them to understand what idea I'm actually trying to get across, which brings me to my second point." Another finger went up. "Always respect canon. Unless I directly give you permission to do so, you are not allowed to engage in any unsanctioned reinterpretation of my words. In the future, my holy book will be copied and distributed to your priesthood while I keep the original for verification and amendment purposes. I expect everyone regardless of origin or generation to be taught the exact same tenets and to understand what they actually mean with absolutely no deviation from the script. You may keep your local traditions and beliefs but only my doctrine and the proper annotations should ever be written on those pages. Do you understand me?"

The humans voiced their assertion. Satisfied, Amaterasu held up a third finger. "Lastly for now at least, should you feel the need to add something to my words or even take something away, you do not have the right to take the initiative of amending your copy of my book. Instead, you must gather enough evidence to support why you believe such changes should be made and bring them directly to me. I will examine them and debate whether your opinions hold merit or if you're simply wasting both of our time. If you succeed, I will update the master and send orders for the others to do so as well with their copies. You may bring as much evidence and witnesses as you can and petition me as many times as you please but once I've decided that a matter in my book is final, I expect no further discussion on it lest you accrue my disfavor."

The high priests and scribes shivered involuntarily as Amaterasu put just enough venom into that last word to cow them. She smiled slightly as she watched them squirm beneath her gaze, confident that they now understood the price of disobedience.

'Teach them early to fear your wrath,' her father's voice whispered from the dark recesses of her mind.

Amaterasu winced as she shoved the thought back through the dark pit from which it came. After a momentary struggle, the goddess managed to force herself back to reality. "Any questions before we begin?"

Ito raised a finger as if about to speak but quickly rid himself of the notion. As the scribes laid sheets of paper onto the mats, their brushes slick with ink, Ito's ambivalence was shared by the other high priests. Father once told her about this characteristic of mortals. While some according to him possess so much faith in her that she can expect her mandates to be accepted without question, others merely hesitate because they are afraid of being seen as lacking in faith or worse, treasonous should they voice their disagreement. As far as they were concerned, a mortal simply had no business criticizing a god even for constructive purposes.

Amaterasu became even less certain of the truth in that ever since her conversation with Setsuma Abe ages ago.

"If you have any more questions in the future, please do not hesitate to ask me," Amaterasu continued, her arms folded across her chest. "This undertaking not only affects me but all of you so don't dally too long. Now, let's start with the grand goals I have in store for this world..."

~~~~~~~~~

"Always strive to do good unto others but don't let evil go unheeded."

Brushes slick with ink traced beautiful, intricate symbols onto the papers, makeshift paperweights holding down the corners even as the wind attempted to steal away precious work. A sizable chunk of the crowd has now dispersed, leaving the goddess and her wards to their work.

"Unless deemed necessary and not out of cowardice or for the sake of honor, I forbid anyone from taking their own lives. They must always seek redemption and purpose so as long as they draw breath."

Several members of the audience, all of them samurai of various rankings, gave off perturbed grunts. A slightly harsh glare from Amaterasu forced them to shrink back like chastized children, much to the amusement of their ashigaru lessers. One of them even chuckled, though based on the deep growl from a nearby samurai he will regret it later.

Waiting until the scribes had finished writing, the goddess continued. Her muscles became taut as her heart swelled with feeling. It was the kind one has when facing a mountain, their face as stony as that of the obstacle before them as they tightly clenched the ropes and iron picks in their hands.

"Stand together in the face of adversity and always face toward the dawn."

"Good, good...," Ito practically purred as he clasped his hands together, bobbing his head slowly. "A most excellent tenet." The other high priests voiced their agreement.

Amaterasu smiled. "It certainly is, much like the other tenets, and along with the histories, decrees, and rituals should prove sufficient for our tasks."

Ito looked confused. "Just three tenets? Your Divinity, forgive my impertinence but based on what you've blessed us with so far, it would make for a very short book!"

One of her eyebrows arched as the goddess tilted her head to the side and regarded Ito closely. Based on what Father told her, Amaterasu was under the impression that all mortals, especially humans, desired fewer rules. She couldn't tell whether Jomon's collectivist society was responsible for this particular obsession with order or if Ito was ever so eager to smooch her... bountiful backside.

"I have taken your fellow high priests' concerns under consideration and have determined that it is much too early in our current struggle to pour any more time into a doorstopper as you are no doubt aware, High Priest Ito. What I've commissioned so far should at least form the basics of the unity that I intend to spread throughout Jomon and beyond."

"I understand, your Divinity," Ito swallowed as he seemed to shrink, his face reddening slightly. A few high priests chuckled at his expense.

"Enough of that! I disallow any of you from enjoying the distress of your fellow clergyman!" The high priests quickly pushed against each other as Amaterasu suddenly railed at them. "From this day henceforth, you no longer belong to your clans nor would you exclusively serve your communities. You no longer even belong to yourselves. You and your subordinates, including those who tend to your temples, belong to me now and I expect a degree of civility and mutual respect from those above the laity, am I clear?"

None of the high priests hesitated in showing their willingness to show civility and mutual respect.

"Good, now does anyone else have any questions?"

Akira, the high priest who'd arrived with the Kokuma Clan, tentatively raised a hand. "I have one concerning the section you have transcribed concerning the ordainment of high priests, you Divinity. Some may... ah, consider it... unorthodox."

She gave him a half-shrug. "The previous method of choosing a new high priest was already unorthodox to begin with as far as I'm concerned, Akira. Mortals should not vote among themselves on who should rule over them in religious matters, especially based on popularity if what I've heard is correct. It's only fitting that a goddess chooses who would best represent her, no?"

Akira opened his mouth as if to speak but thought better of it. Instead, he suddenly found his sandals more interesting to look at. "I bow to your wisdom, your Divinity."

Another high priest, Seimei of the Fujisaki Clan, raised his hand. "In the same section, you mentioned an individual who will have authority over even us high priests. You mentioned that this person would speak in your name more so than anyone, outranking even shoguns and spreading your teachings to all four corners of the earth. Do you have anyone in mind?"

Amaterasu blinked as the high priests looked at her expectantly. Who Seimei was referring to is known as a Prophet, the greatest conduit of a god's Dominion other than themselves and the herald of their divine will. Amaterasu more or less replaced Moritama as Prophet though Father never officially named her as such. Nevertheless, he instructed her on the particulars including how to find and initiate a worthy candidate and their responsibilities.

Most of all, he instructed her that a Prophet is to be both trustworthy and obedient.

"I do not currently have anyone in mind," Amaterasu explained. "When my following becomes so large that I need assistance, I will make that choice. Right now, I can handle things on my own."

Amaterasu spent the next few hours answering the high priests' questions, even inviting the scribes and the audience to voice their concerns. In the resulting session, the goddess discovered two things. One was that the laypeople had never been this involved with their own religious practices. Usually, they distanced themselves from learning the particulars of rituals and ordinances unless it directly involved them, plus priests typically didn't share everything with the non-clergy after all.

Secondly, Amaterasu realized how eager most of the audience was to learn about these things. From the correct way to perform a sacrifice to the meaning behind a certain ritual, they gobbled up what she told them. Still there appeared to be an air of dejection surrounding them, particularly among the samurai. Trained to be warriors since birth, why should these men even be encouraged to take an interest in the priesthood? Their fates were sealed the moment they grew inside their mothers' wombs.

Fortunately, they served a goddess who couldn't give a phoenix's fiery ass about predestination.

"As this war drags on, I expect that there will be no shortage of people in need of spiritual guidance as well as the proper observation of funerary rites," Amaterasu spoke as she turned toward the high priests. She then extended a hand toward the audience. "As a result, you will be expected to expand your body of clergy to accommodate these changes. I need not tell you where to find eager initiates. Turn no one away, regardless of their caste and origin."

Many of the samurai's faces brightened. Ito clasped his hands and bowed, the other high priests mirroring the movement. "We will acquiesce to your demands, your Divinity."

"Finally and since I'm feeling a bit egalitarian," the goddess looked to the side briefly, glancing at a girl in the audience wearing a white kimono and red skirt, a wooden rod festooned with crinkled ribbons in her hands. A miko, the goddess recalled, thinking of the shrine maidens who kept her temple in Hitoshima Village clean. "I hereby grant women the right to ascend through the ranks of the priesthood, even up to the point of being promoted to high priestesses by me."

Ito jerked back forcibly, his mouth agape as he blinked rapidly. "Th- that's... unprecedented!"

Amaterasu leveled her gaze at the high priest, her golden eyes becoming slits of intense sunlight. "Would that be a problem, Ito?"

Ito sputtered as he shook his head rapidly. "No, no, not a problem at all, your Divinity! Your will shall be done!"

Satisfied, Amaterasu gently sat on her legs into a seiza position and slowly filled her lungs, taking the time to hold her breath before exhaling more forcibly. The sun seemed to grow in intensity but not to the point of discomfort. Instead, its warm embrace became a balm for sore muscles and a salve for troubled minds.

"Now that my book has been written, let's end this meeting with your first sacrifice to me," Amaterasu said as she closed her eyes briefly. "Commence the Gift to the Dawn."

Amaterasu watched as the high priests read the details of performing the ceremony. This will prove not only to be a teaching moment for her now unified priesthood the first significant proof of her fledgling faith's newfound unity. Today will be the day the Dawn Coalition stands as one in more than just convenience and mutual protection. Today, a unity that can stand against the fury of Lady Ibitsu and even Shinigami shall rise and proliferate throughout this province, making it the birthplace of the sort of hope and peace that will soon blanket the entire world. Today, Jomon will sing in one voice a devastating hymn that will burn away the darkness and pain, making this the greatest age this world has yet seen.

Amaterasu watched as men drove beasts of burden to a place a few hundred meters in front of her, disgorging their wagons of lumber and logs. Like a girl watching an ant colony carry away food and debris, Amaterasu looked on in curiosity and awe as the humans slowly built a platform that would soon reach her knees if she was standing, its ramp stretching ahead of her on the other side. As the hours dragged into the evening, the audience grew bigger as more humans poured from the camp to witness the ceremony, and some even assisted the builders. Soon, the finished structure stood before the goddess, a table ready to accept a wondrous feast.

The sound of bamboo flutes and taiko drums drew Amaterasu to a procession heading toward the ramp. Flanked by musicians, the high priests walked two men abreast as their subordinates carried censors spewing aromatic smoke beside them. Four warriors at the rear of the procession pulled a magnificent ox, the animal bellowing slightly when it caught a glimpse of Amaterasu looking directly at it but did not try to flee. Four miko walked after it, carrying baubles and jewelry, as well as buckets sloshing with liquid.

The procession stopped at the foot of the ramp and surrounded it at a safe distance, save for a single high priest presumably voted by the others to conduct the sacrifice, the warriors guiding the ox, and the miko. Instead, they walked up the ramp as the solemn audience looked on amid the music, ascending onto the platform and into the view of their goddess. Amaterasu was surprised that the high priest chosen to sacrifice the ox was none other than Seimei. No doubt Ito is at the base of the structure, brimming with envy.

The music fell silent just as the entourage stepped onto the top of the platform. "Empress of the Rising Sun!" Seimei proclaimed as he raised his arms, his magically enhanced voice carrying his words throughout the area, echoing into the distance. The only other sounds present were the bull's grunting and the calls of birds flying overhead.

"We present this sacrifice to you as a token of our affection, this gift to the dawn! Let this be the nectar that fills your love with sustenance and the fuel with which to forge your great works!"

Seimei motioned to the miko to bring their items to the ox as the warriors held the bovine in place. They opened their buckets, revealing white paint. Amaterasu gave a small smile as the young women dipped their hands into the liquid and slathered it onto the bull.

"In peace, may you reign over a world full of joy and rest, and in righteousness may you uphold justice fairly and with finality! Like the sun's light, may goodness bask in your rays while evil flees before its luminance!"

Amaterasu gasped slightly, impressed at Seimei's perfect recall of those phrases. She'd half expected him to fumble over those words.

After the miko covered every surface of the ox with the white paint, they adorned the beast with necklaces and baubles of every style and length, wrapping a few around its horns. Amaterasu barely suppressed a laugh as one of the shrine maidens gave off a small squeak when one of the beast's ears flicked a bit of paint into her face.

"May wealth and prosperity guide your charitable endeavors and no one lack in bread or be bereft of coin! May slums turn into palaces and beggars into kings!"

One of the miko, a girl who couldn't be much older than Jingū, carried a small bucket to the front of the ox. The animal snorted as she dipped her hand into the container, pulling against its restraints as she smeared a circle of red paint on its forehead. The creature bellowed as some of the paint ran into its eyes, causing her to quickly back away.

"May passion strengthen your resolve against those who threaten the world you desire to build! May your fury burn hotly against your enemies so that those left among the ashes have no choice but to redeem themselves by submitting to your authority! May you be the harbinger of hope as surely as the sunrise first graces Jomon's face each morning! Accept our gift to your dawn and to our future!"

As Seimei turned toward the ox, one of the warriors let go of his rope with one hand and unsheathed his katana. His solemn expression giving way to reverence, the warrior kneeled before the high priest and presented his sword like a loyal subject giving a gift to his master. Seimei took the katana and stood next to the ox, the edge of the blade against its throat. A tense silence filled the area as the entire world seemed to hold its breath.

The bovine mooed in shock and agony as Seimei drew a red furrow across its throat.

One of the miko gave a small scream as blood sprayed from the gash, the beast thrashing wildly as the warriors held it in place. As the audience cheered, Amaterasu leaned forward as Seimei handed the bloodied katana back to the warrior and stepped to a safe distance. Giving off a series of gurgled moans, the ox coughed up a glob of blood before collapsing onto the wooden logs.

Now for the second part of the Gift.

With a low bow to the goddess, Seimei turned and walked briskly down the ramp with the warriors and miko in tow. As the procession reached the base of the ramp, the other high priests raised their hands toward the sky and a low grumble soon rose from them like a perfume's fragrance. The chant reached a crescendo and Amaterasu felt several filaments in her Bond of Belief being tugged. If the prayers of the masses could be compared to whispers, these entreaties were cries that begged for power withheld. Like cups full of holes that awaited the opulent blessings of the pitcher, they begged for but a sliver of the sun's power so that they may unleash it upon the world.

Like the gracious goddess she is, Amaterasu granted them her favor.

Almost immediately, a raging mass of fire flowed into existence and fell from the sky. It landed on the slain ox as well as the structure itself, cradling both in a lover's embrace. The cheers turned thunderous as smoke billowed from the sacrifice. The wind turned and though Amaterasu was buffeted with the scent of charbroiled beef and burning wood, something less tangible but much more powerful hit her in full force.

Eons ago, Amaterasu once convinced a group of Skeptics to share whatever beliefs they held that made Father hate them so much. Their leader, a one-eyed, hobbled old man named Anabases, claimed that all gods are only powerful mortal creatures who subsist on the dreams and beliefs of mortals which is why they died if not worshipped by anyone anymore. 'Tulpa fashioned by faith', he called them. He also claimed that gods, bound by the constraints of reality and magic, cannot truly transcend beyond those forces and are only deceiving themselves into thinking they could. Needless to say, Amaterasu was reduced to tears, and poor Anabases and his Skeptics became the latest additions to Father's slice of hell on earth.

Even so, such implications continued to plague Amaterasu in subtle ways between that time and her imprisonment in Ama-no-Iwato. However, it wasn't until the Bond of Belief was established between her and the Hideyoshi Clan where she experienced for the first time the birth of her own Dominion that Amaterasu began to doubt Anabases' words. The Gift to the Dawn, from the symbolism of the paints and jewelry to the steps needed to carry it out, was formulated not only to become part of the establishing ceremony of her newfound faith but as a final test of Anabases' beliefs... and though he was correct in a way, it revealed that he still knew nothing!

What mortal can claim to truly understand the metaphysical forces that bound a deity to this reality and into the hearts of their followers through the Bond between them? What mortal can claim to fully understand the mind of a god the same way they can another mortal, believing themselves to be anything other than ants trying to understand the thought processes of a greater being? Do they fully understand the true nature of the power behind a ceremony a goddess has established and its associated symbolism?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It may be true that the gods derive sustenance from their followers' collective belief and can be temporarily slain, but such higher beings are so much more than what mortals like Anabases could possibly comprehend. Even the physical form each god takes is nothing more than a divine chassis that holds a mere shard of Existence's might, fueled by the Source and guided by a will much greater than those of mortals.

In the end, Anabases' attempt to undermine the basics of godhood only revealed the depths of his ignorance.

Even now, Amaterasu could feel a wondrous force enveloping her like the tender hugs of Father. Her heart melted as placid moments of familial companionship welled up inside her. Memories of children laughing as they chased each other on the cobblestone streets of Yomi welled up in her mind. Scenes played in her mind for a brief time when she, Tsukuyomi, and Susanoo spent time together, bringing upon her a sense of nostalgia and loss.

Soon, the sensation shifted to tantalizing caresses and moans, the silken grinding of skin upon skin, and the tangle of soft lips and eager tongues. Amaterasu couldn't help but shudder pleasantly as something that felt like a lover's embrace enveloped her. Kisses seemed to slowly move from her lips and down her neck, the sensations deepened as they hovered around her breasts before drifting down her navel and into sensuous places below. As Amaterasu gave off an involuntary moan, her loins bunching together, she wondered if what she was experiencing was a jumble of different symbolic concepts or if they were merely different representations of the same thing.

Her answer came when she suddenly felt as if she'd just received a standing ovation. The tinkling of medals danced with the clanking of awarded wealth as something that felt like a congratulatory pat touched her back. Her heart soared to heavenly heights as Amaterasu stood tall, peering upon the cheering crowd like a heroine of legends awaiting her golden laurel inside the Ivory Coliseum.

At that moment, Amaterasu understood why Father'd never bothered explaining what it felt like to be honored with a sacrifice. It was something that should only be experienced firsthand. 'Sacrifice is the ultimate form of devotion', he once told her, and though that could easily be interpreted as merely the burning of offered animals, she understood that it entailed much, much more. Though she knew that some gods may be more partial to certain kinds of expressions than others, each sensation she just experienced equated to one undeniable truth.

Every god just wants to be loved.

Amaterasu moaned softly as the wave of sensations passed like a warm blanket, her heart already beginning to ache at its loss. She suddenly gained the urge to demand another sacrifice even grander than the first but barely managed to rein in the desire. Father warned that sacrifices conducted in quick succession have diminishing returns, leaving gods of weaker wills gluttonous for more. They will ultimately become not too dissimilar to the famed lotus-eaters of the Isle of Bliss, neglecting the health and wellbeing of their realms for personal satiety and pleasure.

Suddenly, Amaterasu gasped as what felt like a tsunami rushed out of her very being, an unseen yet powerful force that seemed to ripple through the very air as it expanded throughout the clearing and beyond like a vapor. The high priests, overwhelmed by such divine power, fell on their knees and wept as the realization dawned on them that their ability to call their goddess' power to bless their allies and strike down their enemies had been greatly enhanced. The other humans may have seen the force disturb the air because their cheers became filled with awe and wonder.

Amaterasu realized that the force was none other than her Dominion, empowered by the Gift and set in motion throughout Jomon like ripples from a stone dropped into a pond. That is the true nature and power of a ritual's symbolism, motifs that because they matched a god's nature and true intentions ensured its success. Father may have been a harsh and intolerant god but Amaterasu trusted his teachings more than those of Anabases.

Sensing movement below her, Amaterasu turned to look just as the embers of the pyre wafted in the air around her. It was one of the scribes, an adolescent named Miyamoto. His arms cradling protectively around bundles of paper, the boy cast several glances at the crackling bonfire behind him. Nevertheless, his face was filled with awe and reverence. He quickly gave the goddess a bow, his fingers gripping the paper tightly as a backdraft blew toward the fire.

"Your Divinity!" he called out over the cheers as he straightened. He shook his head free of stray strands of hair. "The other scribes and I like to know what name you want to give to your holy book!"

With a warm smile, Amaterasu closed her eyes and took a deep breath before reopening them. "I'll call it the Jomon Shoki," she finally said. "Not only will it serve as a guide to my teachings and mandates, it will be a chronicle of Jomon's achievements. It shall be a chronicle of our achievements."

-------------------------

Jingū spent the new few hours watching in awe as the sacrifice was prepared and burned. Though she was no stranger to large religious ceremonies, the sheer scale of this one left her breathless. Though she'd only arrived as soon as Amaterasu finished having the scribes transcribe her mandates and sayings and thus missed most of the details, Jingū felt as if everything were on the cusp of a great change. At that very moment, as she cheered along with the rest of the audience, Jingū tightly grasped onto the belief that the dream she risked life and limb in her first battle was coming true before her very eyes.

After the crowd began filtering away, Jingū went in the direction of her tent, her face and belly warm with companionable hospitality and debates about the nature of morality. While she understood Shiba's belief in the relativity of morals, Jingū took more comfort in the belief of some higher universal code. To her, the existence of a unifying standard of righteousness that all must work toward seems less... turbulent.

As she continued her internal philosophical musings, Jingū heard movement from a nearby tent. Her eyes narrowing, she slowly crept closer as the flap billowed in the air, cursing her lack of foresight in arming herself beforehand. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead though due to the heat or some sense of unease she couldn't pinpoint.

She paused for a few seconds, straining to hear any sounds within the tent only to be greeted with silence. Releasing her held breath, Jingū slowly shook her head and cursed her paranoia.

Matsu suddenly burst out of the tent and accosted her.

Jingū screamed as the Fujisaka retainer grabbed her prosthesis and right wrist, his face a howling mask of fury. She wheeled around, barely shaking him off though that only seemed to make him angrier.

"Murderer!" Matsu roared in Jingū's face as the two danced around. "No fire in Hell will ever burn hot enough to cleanse you of your crimes, you Hideyoshi bitch!"

Despite her desperation, Jingū found strength. With a half-roar, half-squeal, Jingū tackled Matsu and pushed him into a wooden post, yanking her limbs free. As the youth grunted, Jingū pinned him to the post with her left arm, her right arm drawn behind her head.

The punch came. Again and again it struck Matsu's face. *Thwack* *Thwack* Thwack!* Wooden splinters and blood flew free as Jingū slowly became aware of a dull pain rising from her right knuckles. Nevertheless, her screams never ceased as she continued to pummel Matsu into the post.

Jingū was just beginning to draw back her fist for yet another blow when someone clamped a firm grip around her wrist. With a startled scream, Jingū tried to wretch herself free when the person swung her around and shook her by her shoulders, yelling into her face.

"Snap out of it, my liege!" Misato shouted, giving the young daimyo another fierce shake. "Matsu-kun is gone! He can't hurt you anymore!"

Jingū blinked away the haziness that clouded her vision. Her chest heaving, she turned toward the post. The only thing that touched its splintered surface was a small spatter of blood. Her blood, Jingū realized as she dumbly peered at her damaged hand, her gaze stretching hundreds of miles beyond it.

Misato swore softly as she pulled a strip of white cloth out of her armor and wrapped Jingū's hand with surprising gentleness. A small smile appeared on the hatamoto's face. "There, that should help stem the bleeding until you get a physician to clean the wound. Look alive, at least this outburst is an improvement over the last one. You almost murdered that ashigaru back then, and that's been three weeks ago."

Jingū's face wrinkled like a grape left out in the sun. With shaking limbs, she buried her head underneath them. "How long is this going to last? Three more months? A year?! I-I don't know how much more I can take!"

Misato sighed as she caressed Jingū's shoulders. She was about to give her a hug but remembered herself. There are no doubt plenty of fools from the other clans who viewed her liege as weak as it is.

"I wish I could tell you there's a special tonic that can cure you of all traumas. I wish there was a spell that could make you forget. Unfortunately, sometimes only time can heal even the deepest of wounds. I know you desired something more immediate and I do too but these things cannot be rushed lest you cause more damage."

"So I'd just deal with it then."

"I'm afraid so, my liege," Misato said as she pulled away. Her eyes drooped slightly when she saw Jingū reach for her only to grasp a handful of air. "Just know that we're all here to support you: me, Shiba-san, Yumeji-san, Oba-san, Tatsu-san whenever he's here, perhaps Daimura-sama and Amaito-san, and Saburo-san too. You can even seek succor from Amaterasu-dono tonight."

"Wait, I'm supposed to visit Shiba-san tonight to learn about grand strategy and tactics!" Jingū protested.

Briefly closing her eyes, the hatamoto shook her head. "You can't learn to plan a war if you're not focused. Shiba-san will understand once I talk to her. Go speak to the goddess, my liege."

Jingū opened her mouth and then clamped it shut. "Very well, Misato-san. I will do as you say."

"Good," Jingū saw Misato's eyes drift upward, staring directly at the Sun's Touch as she had taken to naming the symbol Amaterasu left at the center of her forehead so long ago. "It would be better for the both of you, I think. You two haven't spoken much since you... almost made that mistake."

Jingū cringed at the memory of the faces of her warriors, just waiting to be betrayed. Seeing her react, Misato immediately backtracked. "Forgive me for dredging up unsavory memories, my liege."

Jingū quickly waved her off, a small grin on her face. "Don't sweat it, Misato-san. Such memories keep me on the straight and narrow."

"I see!" Misato chuckled. She eventually returned the grin. "Take care of yourself, my liege, and remember what's real and what isn't!"

Jingū sank deeply into her thoughts as Misato left. As much as she doubted it, Misato was right. The goddess is probably wondering if she held a grudge against her for what happened that fateful night. Three months of not speaking much with whom one considers a confidant would've worried anyone.

Snickering jerked Jingū out of her thoughts. A small group of samurai from one of the newer clans were murmuring among themselves, gesturing toward her. One of them said something, causing the others to laugh.

"What the hell's so funny?!" Jingū's exasperated roar caused them to jump, as well as giving a few passersby quite a fright. Agitated, one of the samurai cast a disdainful glare at her before motioning his friends to leave the scene with him.

Blood rushed into Jingū's face and she briefly considered searching for their daimyo and airing out her grievance to him. Instead, she clenched her jaws and stormed back to her tent. So what if some people in the Dawn Coalition consider her too weak to be taken seriously? Soon, she will train hard in both mind and body to surpass their meager expectations. Their mockery will turn into envy.

She fully intended to prove them wrong or die trying.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The moon waned to a quarter as the stars gathered around it like eager children awaiting a story from an old and tired nanny. Having just returned to the charred husk of the sacrificial pyre after a meal of grilled oxen, vegetables, and rice, Amaterasu sighed in contentment as her fingers ran through the remains, dislodging a few burned logs and puffs of ash.

She then sat in the seiza position and closed her eyes. Her mind crawled like water droplets along threads of silk, coasting along the filaments of her Bond as they spread out from her like a spiderweb and pierced her believers' hearts, though Father often likened his own to a tree. It was the skeleton of her Dominion and the fount of her divine power and will, stretching beyond even the confines of magic. It formed the framework from which exudes an unseen yet ever-expanding watercolor splotch onto the canvas of reality that reached far from the residence of any believer. The whispers of her followers' prayers had entered her psyche in greater numbers since her liberation from Ama-no-Iwato with new strands weaving themselves into the Bond almost daily. Though her Dominion has likewise increased in strength, she could only answer so many in one day even with the massive boost the Gift provided earlier.

As she wiped her fingers on the grass, Amaterasu wondered how the bakemono would react should their clergy catch wind of her Dominion. Has she just doomed the entire Coalition by authorizing that sacrifice? No, that cannot be. According to the war map, the nearest bakemono outpost is only twenty-five kilometers away and no reports of priests traveling with the bakemono have been made. Besides, her strengthened Dominion will greatly aid those fighting in her name against their myriad enemies while their foes find themselves crushed underneath her metaphysical thumb.

Steps of course have been taken to ensure that her existence remains a secret. The construction of additional temples to her name has been forbidden much to the disappointment of priests. Anyone traveling far from the Coalition has been made to take a vow of silence, even the merchants. Even villages and towns were given a wide berth by the goddess herself. Still, the goddess became even more invested in the successes of Tatsu and others clearing her path of bakemono patrols.

The ruffling of grass alerted Amaterasu to the arrival of someone. Jingū yawned as she looked up into the goddess' eyes. Her right hand was wrapped in bandages. She then turned toward the used pyre. "Today's sacrifice was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, your Divinity," she finally said.

"I completely agree," the goddess acknowledged, smiling warmly. "It was the first ever performed in my name, at least as an independent deity. It feels more wholesome and powerful."

"Yeah, you did mention being your father's right hand. It must have been quite different back then, not having your own Dominion. What was that like?"

Amaterasu looked at the moon. "I don't know how a mortal would understand such concepts unless they somehow became a god themselves but I will do my best to answer your question. Imagine that someone can unconsciously extend not just their will but the essence of their very being, their soul itself, into the surrounding lands with the strength and reach affected by how many people believe in them. That would be a god's Dominion."

"Now imagine that you possess such a strong spiritual connection with that person that you extrude their Dominion as well, much like a rivulet being fed by the main river. This type of connection supersedes the much weaker ones formed by priests and temples. Blessed and cursed by this connection, you become known as a Disciple."

"Blessed and cursed?" Jingū repeated.

Amaterasu turned back to Jingū and took a deep breath, letting it escape her lungs slowly. "On one hand, you possess the greatest share of a god's power reserves that can supplement your own godlike powers and can help spread your Master's Dominion throughout the world to overwhelm enemy faiths. On the other hand,..."

"You're still basically functioning as a limb spewing out someone else's Dominion." Jingū finished.

"That's right, and of course being affected by whatever nasty influences it may carry."

"Right," Jingū swallowed as she briefly looked at her right hand. The pain has mostly subsided with the knuckles giving off a dull ache with every movement. "Anyway, I'm sure you've heard of the issues I have had since my first battle. They... they've been quite difficult to sort through. I mean, I'd had an outburst earlier today."

Amaterasu's smile grew sad, Wordlessly, she extended a hand toward Jingū, setting it before her like a ramp. With a nod from the goddess, Jingū ascended it. The goddess' callused palm felt like thick leather under Jingū's sandals yet the muscles underneath felt as hard as iron. Jingū grabbed Amaterasu's thumb with her prosthesis and felt a strong force pulling her toward her legs as the goddess raised her hand up to her face. Being this close to the goddess sent a shiver down Jingū's spine.

"I'm here if you want to talk about it," the goddess finally spoke, her mouth big enough to devour a person or two whole.

Jingū's skin crawled as the thum of Amaterasu's voice dug itself into her body. Her breath was a hot summer breeze that coaxed moisture from the daimyo's brow.

"I... I still dream of Matsu-san even months after I've killed him, one of Touma-san's retainers who was around my age," Jingū eventually replied. "Of the people I'd slain that day, he is the only one I distinctly remembered. To make matters worse, every time I see him, there seems to be this sort of unease that reminds me of when I found the body of my pet fox. Father told me that I was becoming aware of the existence of death and its finality but this time it feels a bit different. What do you think it is, your Divinity?"

Amaterasu nodded. "You mentioned that Mastu was around your age, right?"

The young daimyo nodded.

"That feeling upon seeing Matsu is simply you being reminded of your mortality. Tsukuyomi once told me that mortals, especially those in their adolescence, understand that death exists but take a detached view of it as long as it affects others. As a result, death becomes more shocking when it happens to someone they are close to or even when they find themselves at death's door. It's simply the universe reminding them that they too can be cut down before they could ever achieve their dreams and desires. They are no more safe from death than elders and babes."

Jingū lowered her head as she ran her fingers through her black hair. "I suppose that makes sense. Before that battle, I spoke oh so boldly of the possibility of meeting my father before my time."

Letting her hands fall to her side, Jingū sighed as her brow became leaden. She sat cross-legged on the goddess' palm and sighed again, burying her face in her hands. "Now, the loss of my hand continues to remind me that I could've died! On top of that, I still remember the screaming, the brutal deaths, and the foul smells of that battle! I don't even... I don't like fried pork anymore because of that! I... I don't see how I can continue living with this any longer."

Amaterasu's heart ached as she listened to Jingū. Memories of rebels being rounded up after suffering the ravages of the oni, their stares looking many miles beyond their predicament, appeared in her mind. She remembered the various names mortals gave to such a state of despondency. Battle fatigue. Soldiers heart. Spell shock. They fight in wars only to return home as changed people, mostly for the worse.

Then why do they continue to kill each other? a part of her began to wonder. Why do they insist on waging wars if doing so would cause unparalleled suffering even to themselves? Though misotheists often blamed the gods for leading mortals down the path of self-destruction, Amaterasu knew they were just as likely to destroy themselves when left to their own devices. It was one of many things she didn't fully understand about these mortals.

However, it doesn't mean she shouldn't care.

" 'When midnight comes, always face toward the dawn.' ", the goddess suddenly quoted.

Jingū looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. "...Huh?"

" 'When midnight comes, always face toward the dawn.' ", Amaterasu repeated as her mouth morphed into a slight grin. "I cannot pretend to understand what you're going through. You mortals understand this issue more than gods such as myself. However, I still implore you to find a reason to push forward. If you cannot find a reason to keep going within yourself, then look beyond."

'You have subordinates and companions who stand by your side. You have me, who'd cherished you enough to share parts of myself that I've never shared with any other mortal. You have your father or at least him in spirit, who molded you into who you are because he had tremendous faith in you. You are blessed with fellows who care about you and want to help you get through this ordeal. Susanoo would've killed to have people like them on his side. Do you understand me?"

"I do, your Divinity," Jingū grabbed the goddess' thumb with both hands and pulled herself to her feet. Jingū straightened up and looked into Amaterasu's golden eyes, an arm wrapped around the thumb. A small smile appeared on her face as the gloom melted away. "I understand now."

A pause. "Thank you for believing in me."

Amaterasu gently lowered her hand back onto the ground. Letting go of the thumb, Jingū jumped off the hand and looked up to the goddess as she readjusted herself. The ground shook slightly as the goddess plopped onto her stomach and rested her head on her hands. Her feet waved lazily in the air behind her.

"I understand we've barely spoken since that fateful night three months ago," the goddess mused, tilting her head. "Please let this goddess know you're still interested in keeping our relationship cordial."

"Misato-san stated as much," Jingū felt the best she had in months. "So, what should we talk about, your Divinity?"

"I've always noticed that the names of you mortals ended in the same few syllables and frankly, I've been too preoccupied to think much of them. However, I've also noticed that the syllables in question change depending on the social standing of the person addressing their listener and vice versa. What does that mean?"

"Ah, you meant honorifics! Not only had Shinigami created the Imperial System but he'd created honorifics to help ensure harmony. At first, only '-san' existed but our ancestors eventually added more to enforce dignity and establish hierarchy."

Jingū then went on to name each honorific and its use and implications. Amaterasu nodded in appreciation at their clever and meaningful applications. Father occasionally spoke of the ingenuity of mortals but never had Amaterasu expected it would extend into language. To take a system handed to them and amend it in ways that benefitted their own ideas of propriety and harmony, these mortals never fail to surprise her.

Mild concern about the Jomon Shoki's ability to resist such a fate dared surface in her mind for a brief second, however. Maybe she should reexamine the copies she has made for the high priests, just to be on the safe side.

"If honorifics are vital to your society," Amaterasu asked as soon as Jingū finished. "How come nobody's feeling upset whenever I'm addressing them without using them?"

Jingū shrugged. "It's quite clear to everyone you've existed long before the invention of honorifics. Besides, which honorific could you as a goddess use to address us?"

"I could use either '-chan-' or even '-san'. You said the former is used on those you endear while the latter can be used to address subordinates and not just equals."

"True, your Divinity," Jingū acknowledged with a nod. "However, using '-chan' on adults can be viewed as insulting unless they're fine with it. Also, '-san' is more respectful though some could misinterpret it as being addressed as your equal, which none of us have any right to even dream of being. Personally, I'd be fine with you addressing me without honorifics. That's usually done when one has enough familiarity with another that both are okay with it."

"Very well," Amaterasu paused as she looked at the night sky. She gasped lightly as a shooting star raced overhead. "I've also noticed that whenever someone speaks my name instead of addressing me as 'your Divinity', they attach the honorific '-dono' to the end. Now I understand why."

"Naturally. You are our master after all."

"As it should be," Amaterasu turned back to Jingū. "Perhaps it's only proper for me to create an honorific to address you all, something that would symbolize a personal connection with you."

"I'm sure the one you create will do the job and then some."

"Well. that's enough questions from me," Amaterasu concluded. Her feet stopped waving in the air for a moment. "Any questions you wish to ask me, Jingū?"

"I too have one that I've put off for some time," the young daimyo replied. The goddess nodded for her to continue. "When you first introduced yourself to my clan after we freed you from that cave, you have a long string of titles after your name. What do they mean?"

Amaterasu chuckled as she moved to sit on her bottom. Jingū was surprised the earth shook only a bit despite the movement. "'Amaterasu, Empress of the Rising Sun, Bearer of Nightkiller, She Who Graces Battlefields, Bane of Scholars, Enemy of Night, and Harbinger of Dawn'," The titles flowed off the goddess' tongue.

"You speak of my epithet, names and titles that every god worth their salt would have. They not only denote my nature but grant insight into the, let's just say, flavor of my Dominion. I'm sure you understand by now the significance of the epithet 'Empress of the Rising Sun'. Underneath the surface, of course, it speaks of my desire to rule and to maintain order even as my Dominion shapes itself into influencing reality. I'm sure you noticed that crimes, domestic disputes, and the like seemed to have dropped significantly in lands under my Dominion, right?"

"My administrators and metsuke seemed the most relaxed they've ever been," Jingū acknowledged, a small grin on her face.

"I believe they do." Amaterasu stretched her hand toward the night sky. Immediately, a shower of sparks erupted from her palm and a bright light coupled with a blast of hot wind announced the goddess' weapon to the world. The goddess expertly whirled the weapon as Jingū gazed in both awe and slight fear as it buzzed through the air in a massive gold and vermillion blur. The goddess brought the weapon in front of her, grasping it in both hands.

"'Bearer of Nightkiller' was earned after my training," the goddess continued. "When Father pulled a drop of light and heat from the sun to fashion Nightkiller as a congratulatory gift, it felt as if he pulled a piece of my soul free and gave it back to me in a form that resonated more strongly with me. It felt as if I've just brought a child into this world that grew to become an extension of my will, my flesh and blood."

"You felt inseparable just as I with Kaze and Kaen," Jingū commented, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Kaze and Kaen?"

"Pardon me, your Divinity, I meant my twin katana. My father gave them to me as name-day gifts."

Amaterasu laughed much to Jingū's amusement. After finally settling down, the goddess dispelled Nightkiller. "It seems we're not all that different after all!" the goddess chuckled.

"True, your Divinity. Our fathers trained us in personal combat and regarded us as their worthy successors despite us being females."

Amaterasu grinned, yet her eyes drooped slightly. "I can only hope you won't share my mistakes too, Jingū."

Perhaps Saburo was onto something, Jingū thought before she changed the subject. "Anyway, what does the title, 'She Who Graces Battlefields' mean? I caught a gist of it during our first battle when you moved very fast, yet barely disturbed the earth for someone your size."

To this very day, Jingū was forced to settle her nerves each time she saw the goddess approach her. That could explain why the survivors of the Fujisaka and Najima Clans' ill-fated battle with the Dawn Coalition pitched their tents as far from Amaterasu's tent as they could.

"Air magic," the goddess answered. "I am so empowered with it that I can move very quickly while my footfalls are almost deafened. I am certain that I can run all the way to Hitoshima Village within a few days."

"Air magic, huh?" That counts as the third type of magic Jingū has a passing familiarity of next to fire magic from the goddess herself and astral magic from the spellcasters' communions, at least from a mundane person's point of view. "Does that mean you know how to fly, too?"

The goddess' jaw clenched and the daimyo felt the air get hotter. Shaking her head, Amaterasu continued, "Let's move on to 'Bane of Scholars' ."

That's strange, Jingū mentally noted. The goddess possesses an extraordinary ability that can drastically improve the Coalition's chances of winning against the Big Three and the bakemono... and she treats it like a curse. What disturbing memory proved sufficient to force her to fight on the ground? Jingū was about to ask Amaterasu, only for the goddess to give her a look that suggested that she was to remain in the dark about it... hopefully for now.

Alas, the Empress of the Rising Sun has yet another disturbing secret.

"'Bane of Scholars'," Amaterasu repeated. "Was wholly Father's fault. I believe that scholars are just as important to society as farmers and soldiers and I have nothing against anyone becoming educated in both magical and mundane studies as long as they respect authority. Nonetheless, Father was adamant that I do not become a female version of Tsukuyomi so he went out of his way to destroy any paraphilia of scholarship and science I could get my hands on while forcing me to emphasize martial prowess and personal strength and endurance."

"Could it be why the spellcasters complained of having some difficulty studying and conducting experiments while within your Dominion?"

"Exactly," the goddess acknowledged with an apologetic smile. "I also know they get more exhausted when casting spells and that quite a few magic gems in our supplies are rendered inert every week."

"Good thing the spellcasters warned me," Jingū said, pausing to yawn. "Those magical shields we used in our first battle would not have been possible without the communions and even then the spellcasters were exhausted much more than usual afterward."

"Give the spellcasters my apologies for inconveniencing their work."

"Inconveniencing? They said your Dominion was also a blessing in that battle."

Amaterasu blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Almost all of the enemy spellcasters were taken out of the fight, with some even suffering from the fatal effects of extreme exhaustion and stress. This happened despite the other side having an ample amount of magic gems. Secondly, many of my warriors survived the magical barrage the enemy unleashed upon us despite my clan taking the brunt of the assault. The fatalities of the spells mostly consisted of those who'd taken direct hits while the rest were merely injured to varying degrees by the explosions and flying objects."

Jingū paused to clear her throat. "Some of my spellcasters estimated that under normal circumstances, my army would've been too devastated to withstand Touma-san's charge even with the protection of the shields."

The goddess' eyes widened as she leaned closer, focused completely on Jingū. "So you're saying that not only had the, let's just call it draining effect of my Dominion not only reduced the effectiveness of the enemy mages but dampened their attacks on the Coalition, perhaps as a result of an increased resistance to magic?"

"That's the idea, your Divinity." Jingū nodded.

Amaterasu's smile widened as the possibilities greased and whirled the gears in her head. "Thank you for telling me this, Jingū. This information shall serve us well in this war."

Not as much as the ability to fly but one can't always be picky, Jingū thought as dryly as she dared as she bowed. "I am happy to serve."

With a nod, Amaterasu continued. "Sometimes two or more epithets form even the smallest of connections between each other. This usually happens when more than one significant event occurs at almost the same time or over a long enough period that the god in question is associated with them. These events ranged from the personally profound to the globally extensive. Either way, the god is affected forever."

"That explains why 'Enemy of Night and Harbinger of Dawn' seem so similar," Jingū pointed out.

"Exactly," Amaterasu acknowledged with a nod. "One day, I had an epiphany of the state of the world Father left it in. Mind you, this happened long after Tsukuyomi was banished to the moon so needless to say things got up to that point since then. Since then, I've worked hard to improve the lives of everyone, using my influence to burn away the darkness of their lives up to the time Father imprisoned me."

As if demonstrating, Amaterasu held up a palm. A mote of light appeared suspended over the hand by around five meters, its needle-thin rays nearly blinding Jingū. The daimyo immediately recognized it as astral magic, said by the spellcasters to be the combination of all forms of magic in the world.

As if reading her mind, Amaterasu smiled. "Beautiful isn't it? Of course, it has taken a rearguard to my fire magic. However, it is powerful in the hands of the more experienced."

"How so?" Jingū asked as Amaterasu extinguished the light, darkness taking its place once more. Jingū's heart ached at its loss.

"Tsukuyomi is so skilled in astral magic that it has been claimed that he can see what's happening in faraway lands and influence events there. Ironically though, Father is even more skilled though he almost never uses it. Susanoo possesses neither the inclination nor the patience to learn it."

"And the last epithet, 'Harbinger of Dawn?"

"'Harbinger of Dawn'," Amaterasu repeated, pinching the bridge of her nose as she squinched her eyes shut. With a sigh, the goddess opened them and tilted back her head. The moonlight revealed turmoil raging within her eyes. "How could I possibly explain that?"

Jingū waited, expecting Amaterasu to say more. When it became evident that nothing was forthcoming, Jingū gave a small sigh. "If telling me troubles you, it's fine your Divinity."

"Patience Jingū," Amaterasu chided softly. "A lot happened back then with me at the center of it and I'm trying to decide how or whether I should share it." Sucking in a deep breath, the goddess let it out slowly. To Jingū, it sounds like a gale flowing across a prairie.

"'Harbinger of Dawn', " Amaterasu repeated once again before turning to Jingū. "Let's just say that the main reason why I risked Father's jealousy to redress the ills of the world is that it was a path of redemption."

The goddess' smile wavered slightly. "One fashioned for none other than myself."

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Mount Minerva Observatory

The Kingdom of Marignon

"The North Astral Circle has been completed!" an astrologist announced as she drew in the last lines of chalk near the northern edge of the massive stone platform.

"The West is finished as well!" another stated.

"The South is completely drawn in!"

The East is done!"

"The Core Astral Circle is now complete," Antonio announced as he and his assistants finished drawing the circle and its symbols around the observatory. If drawn correctly, which he knew it would be, the magical sigil should appear from the sky as a huge circle with four smaller circles pressed against it.

Feeling his aging bones creak as he stretched, Antonio looked toward the south and beheld mighty Marignon itself in the distance, the ruby of the west maintaining its vigil over the Marverna Plains. Lantern lights slowly winked out among the city proper, the ships moored in its docks, and the farmsteads outside its walls. The armies he mustered three months ago rested in their encampments to the east of the city, awaiting their march to C'tis in the morning to aid Ma'at in her struggle against the rebels.

The mystery of the Lawgiver's disappearance will hopefully be solved soon after.

Antonio looked above him. A massive, perfectly circular hole had been carved out of the blanket of clouds as if by the hand of a titan, revealing a breathtaking display of stars and other celestial objects. By Antonio's estimate, the air ritual spell should give them an hour to complete their task.

"Good job everyone," he spoke to his subordinates, rubbing his hands eagerly. "Now let's move on to the fun part."

The group entered the observatory and took their places. A few scribes were seated inside, their quills and parchments at the ready. Each of the four astrologists stood in a circular sigil etched on the floor that corresponded with the chalk magic circles they drew outside, forming a diamond around the platform in the center of the observatory.

As the assistants took their places next to levers and winches, Antonio stepped onto the platform and climbed into the seat of the centerpiece of the building, a massive telescope covered in gold filigree with astral pearls inserted into the nodes. Attached just over his head and to the side was what he called a stellar dowser. Suspended upside-down by a copper wire, the tuning fork jerked lazily with every movement, its tines whirling at the center of a hoop of copper attached to another spot on the telescope.

"Open the gate!" Antonio ordered after buckling himself in.

One of the assistants pulled a lever and the earth gems festooning the machine hummed to life. Massive gears clattered along toothed tracks and the quarter-hemispherical gate groaned ajar, revealing a slit big enough to push the telescope through. The gate slammed to a stop.

"Raise the telescope!"

More assistants pulled on some of the winches and the earth gems multiplied their combined strength many times. Antonio's seat lurched as the telescope was pushed toward the ceiling, the fortified pistons hissing as water was pumped into them, the valves clamping shut against the backflow. The telescope peeked out of its iron and masonry shell, observing its dominion in the heavens and the earth beneath it.

"Stop!" Antonio called below. Almost immediately, the telescope lurched to a stop. Raising his arms, he turned toward the astrologists. "Begin the communion!"

The astrologists chanted as they extended their arms toward the god. Astral magic whiffed from their fingers, filaments of magic growing like hair as they coiled around Antonio. He felt their thoughts meld with his own like wax, dissident thoughts melting away before a growing font of clarity of purpose and unity of intent. Had either communion master or his communion slaves not retained a sense of self and consciousness, they would've been for all intents and purposes the multiple bodies of a single intellect.

Loud chanting exiting his lips, Antonio built up globs of astral magic into his hands and pressed them against the telescope. Cyan threads of light erupted from the astral pearls on its surface and grew over the massive instrument, caressing it like a mother. Antonio's heart leaped into his throat as his consciousness expanded and he felt as if the telescope itself was an extension of his body, no different than a finger or an eyelash.

A ringing above him turned his attention toward the astral dowser. The tuning fork was raised toward the left edge of the hoop. Antonio stole a glance at a compass on the panel before him. The magnetic needle was aimed due north.

"Rotate counterclockwise, 90 degrees!" he ordered.

The assistants rotated winches on the ground and the telescope traversed to Antonio's left. The dome ceiling gave a thunderous whirl as it rotated with the machine. The tuning fork slightly increased in pitch as it swung toward the leading edge of the hoop. Antonio waited until it reached its direct center before giving the order to stop.

Antonio looked down toward the controls on the panel. Grabbing a lever, he pulled back and the telescope raised its head toward the heavens. He stopped when the tuning fork swung to the very center of the hoop and though its hum increased in pitch, it wasn't as loud as he'd hoped. Antonio pulled another lever and the telescope stretched to about a third of its length.

The tuning fork sang.

Antonio leaned forward and peered into the eyepiece and out an enchanted lens and though he'd viewed the stars many times over the centuries, his gasp still brimmed with barely contained, child-like awe.

This was his favorite part of astrology. The constellation itself seemed to take on a life of its own, moving as if it was a living creature. Faint, cyan lines grew between the stars and a more detailed image formed over the stellar assemblage. A quill in one hand, the wizened being scribbled something onto a scroll in the other, his beard flowing in the absence of any wind. Antonio smiled as the astrologists gasped below him. It felt good to not be alone in having a tireless appreciation of the divination of the stars.

However, a chill crept down Antonio's back when the being paused to bury his face in his hands, his head jerking sporadically as if in mourning. Tears, at least what he dearly hoped were tears, poured through his fingers.

"The Scholar... is highlighted in the Western Firmament. He appears to be... crying," he tentatively announced as he recognized the constellation. The herald of knowledge, innovation, and the search for truth, yet something seems to be amiss. A likely catastrophic loss of progress perhaps? The scribbling of the scribes drifted into his ears as well as the confused murmurs of the astrologists and assistants.

The cessation of the ringing jerked Antonio's attention toward the astral dowser. The tuning fork swung toward the hoop's right edge.

Antonio eventually pointed the telescope back to the north and gazed at the next constellation. Strutting as if the starry heavens were her domain, a woman wearing a starry crown held up her nose as a hand held up a handful of her gown, a scepter waving in the other. She paused to sneer in the direction of the Scholar.

"The Queen rules the Northern Firmament, casting an arrogant look at the Scholar." Herald of dominance, splendor, and ambition. Perhaps in their eagerness to become Pantokrator and rule the world, his future rivals will be responsible for the diminished if not completely lost progression in the sciences, the loss of knowledge, and the regression of civilization itself. Either that or they will twist them to suit their own selfish ends.

Antonio found both possibilities absolutely dreadful.

The astral dowser decreased in pitch as it moved slightly off-center toward the south. Lowering the telescope, Antonio beheld the Smith hammering away at the anvil, his face a mask of absolute focus as he fashioned a sword out of an ingot of metal. Antonio smiled as fond memories of the Oracle entered his mind. His Master has always loved the Smith, seeing it as the symbol of Ulm itself.

The herald of industry, strength, and innovation. Much like the engineering and smithing guilds of Marignon and Ulm, the Scholar and the Smith often competed for the right to be called the master of invention. It was a rivalry born during the fires of the Second Ascension War and it persists even today.

"The Smith continues to hammer away below the Queen," Antonio finally announced. The scribes continued their work. "There are no relationships he has with her and the Scholar as of-"

Antonio and the astrologists gasped when the Queen floated down toward the Smith and accosted him. Though he landed a few blows on his attacker with his hammer and sword, the Queen proved the stronger opponent. With a smack of her scepter, the Queen knocked the Smith down, the weapons flying out of his hands. As the Smith struggled to crawl to safety, she stomped a foot onto his head and pinned him.

Antonio's blood froze in his veins as the Queen stared directly at him, peering through the lens of his contraption and into his soul as she regarded him with the same desire as one would a possession to be stolen and subjected to her cruel whims.

The astrologists whispered disconcertingly among themselves, drawing worried stares from the assistants and scribes. Shuddering, Antonio forced himself to regain his composure as he processed what he'd just witnessed. However, there was above all a familiar sense of dread in his heart that he couldn't place.

Ambitious and cruel masters will subvert the industrial and innovative drive of a resilient and inventive people, unleashing their destructive might upon the world.

What manner of dark ambitions and dire issues have you left unaddressed, Oracle?

"The Queen is... brutally exerting her dominance over the Smith," the Pretender of Marignon finally announced, his throat becoming dry parchment. The whispers became even more stressed. "Settle down everyone, we still have a job to do."

The astral dowser directed him south and Antonio gazed on in guarded wonder as a great fish swam in the night sky. Its bulging muscles held ponderous power, yet the numerous scars on its flanks told stories of its past struggles and failures. Yet the Whale proudly moved onward, a nigh-unstoppable juggernaut from which all obstacles must either move aside or be crushed underneath its massive bulk.

It's no wonder the Whale is the herald of perseverance, power, and endurance.

Antonio was about to announce the Whale's presence when the unthinkable happened. In a bright flash of light, massive tentacles coiled around the Whale in a death grip. With a throaty bellow, the Whale clamped onto one of its ambusher's tentacles and ripped it free. Unfortunately, the mysterious interloper was of equal strength and both behemoths wrestled each other in the starry heavens.

Antonio's gaze met the strange, vertical pupil of the creature's left eye and the god winced as a sudden ache swelled inside his head, threatening to split his skull open like an overripe melon.

Antonio jerked his head away from the eyepiece, his face paling considerably. Below him, the astrologists were chatting vigorously with each other, some with fear in their voices. Antonio felt the bonds of communion weaken between him and his subordinates as they began to panic.

"Maintain the bond!" he hissed, leaning over the side of his chair. Near the astrologists, even the assistants and scribes looked trepid. "We've come too far to give in to fear now! Marignon needs this divination!"

Eventually, the astrologists forced their feelings back under control. Feeling the bonds strengthening, Antonio moved back into his seat. He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, his fingers digging through his straw-colored hair as he processed what they just witnessed.

The Kraken, herald of omens, influence, and mystery, appeared out of nowhere to grapple with the Whale, its arrival an impossibility given the time of year.

With a frown, Antonio quickly peered into the eyepiece. A hand grabbed a winch on the panel and twisted it toward the right. Metal clanked as the enchanted lens of the telescope was moved out of place. An unaugmented lens twisted into place, allowing Antonio to see the starry skies for what they are. Sure enough, the Kraken Constellation hung in the sky like a dreadful omen, guaranteed to confuse and frighten countless stargazers in the same hemisphere.

"How?" Antonio wondered to himself as he replaced the enchanted lens. He knew of no spells capable of making the Kraken appear before its time. Even if a spell is responsible, it would have to be massive enough to be sensed by every spellcaster and god in the world. Regardless, Antonio dreaded what it could mean. Could the world be fated to face an enigmatic, unknowable force? Is the Queen somehow related to this? The Whale represents resilience. Does that mean we will eventually triumph over whatever nefarious influence the Kraken represents?

No, you old fool, Antonio rebuked himself. The Whale and Kraken are evenly matched which means that both have an equal chance of winning the struggle. The world remains powerless as its fate is decided by forces beyond its comprehension.

"The Kraken has appeared in the Southern Firmament to grapple with the Whale," he announced with resignation. Hushed murmurs rose from the scribes and assistants amid the scribbling of quills. "Both hold the advantage."

What are we going to do? he wondered as he massaged his temples. How are we going to survive this debacle? What could possibly give us hope in the midst of these dark times?

As if in answer, the thrumming song of the astral dowser briefly changed pitch into what almost sounded like the cry of a great bird of prey. Jerking his head upward, Antonio watched the tuning fork swing to its new position. His heart hammering in his chest, Antonio quickly ordered the telescope toward the new direction and looked into the eyepiece. Could there be a way?

The Phoenix breathed a tongue of starry fire into the heavens as she spread her fiery wings like the rays of the sun. Flapping her wings, she screeched in defiance at the Queen and the Kraken. With an annoyed 'hmph', the Queen extended her scepter at the Phoenix and bellowed a challenge. However, the Kraken pointedly ignored her, the Phoenix being nothing more than an insignificant ember as far as it was concerned.

The Phoenix, herald of zeal, hope, and rebirth, simply stood tall, perhaps a promised guardian against an endless night?

"The Phoenix rises in the Eastern Firmament to challenge the Queen and the Kraken," Antonio announced in a much lighter voice. "The Queen responds in kind but the Kraken disregards her."

Suddenly, the pieces inside Antonio's head clicked into place. The Scholar crying, the Queen abusing the Smith, the Whale fighting with the Kraken, and the Phoenix joining the others. It all makes sense now! He couldn't believe he didn't recognize the signs earlier. Taking a deep breath, Antonio intoned from memory the last transcribed words of a holy man, his lips seemly moving on their own.

~'I see the Seer of a new era caught up by a strange song, their throne bereft of power and peace.

The Scholar limps onward, bereft of fellowship and hope, his eyes dead set on righting ancient wrongs and absolving his own transgressions.

The Queen takes the Seer's place, her hand crushing hope's heart and splattering its blood onto ceaseless forges, rededicating them to eternal night and ruthless dominion.

The Smith languishes under the Queen's foot as he reforges his cunning into a hammer and his vengeance into an anvil, fashioning the means of his ultimate triumph.

The Whale, once a ruler of old and dreams of ruling again, grapples with the Kraken, its tendrils preparing the way for the gatekeeper and the end of an era.

The Phoenix soars from the east on tides of dawn, a new ruler beset by memories of past misdeeds even as she searches for answers and redemption.

The fate of the world hangs in the balance as good and evil clash on the plains of Megiddo.'~

One of the astrologists gasped. "That's the Last Prophecy, the one the Prophet of the New Faith gave on his deathbed before Nero went crazy!" he exclaimed.

"That's correct though I suspect Nero was already crazy," Antonio said, chuckling bitterly as he terminated the communion and divination spells. The astrologists gasped as their perception and awareness snapped back to normal. After the telescope was lowered and the gate slammed shut, the Marignon Pretender chambered out of his seat. Stretching his back, Antonio turned to face his subordinates, his face a mask of resigned grief. It doesn't take an astrologist or a constellation for that matter to know who the Seer was. Even now, Antonio's heart ached at the Oracle's loss.

Who this 'gatekeeper' is though, now that's a mystery.

"Once again, I thank you all for your assistance in this endeavor, however strange and disturbing it's been. The turning of fate's massive wheels moves ever closer to a destiny not even I can accurately predict, yet I can assure you that none of our efforts tonight have been in vain."

As the others gave their acknowledgments, one of the astrologists raised a hand. She was the person who drew the North Astral Circle. "Professor, I've memorized the Last Prophecy in my first year as a student and I also know about the constellations and what they herald. How are they related?"

"I have reason to suspect that the beings mentioned in both the Last Prophecy and our divination aren't just ideas and concepts that will characterize the coming times but people who are destined to have the biggest impacts during this coming Ascension War. I don't know who they are but they will reveal themselves in time.

One of the astrologists, an antsy, pole of a middle-aged man, tentatively spoke up. "What does this all mean for Marignon, for the entire world?"

A wry smile tinged with sadness appeared on Antonio's face. "It's simple, really," he finally said, the loss of the Oracle and its dreams of eternal peace and happiness burning a gorge in his heart. "It means the End Times are here."

(Thank you for taking an interest in my story! Your favs, views, comments, tips, and reviews are very much appreciated and helps keep me going!)