The dream came to her as she slept.
A nation burned itself to ashes all around her. A city so huge it would take days to cross on horseback blazed with the fury of a relentless inferno while she and her party rode through the streets. A giant, a monster, prowled restlessly by her side, easily keeping up with her horse.
The woman herself had a cold, imperious beauty. A spray of gold-and-red scales glimmered like miniscule jewels from her temples and a pair of horns sprouted from her temples and swept backwards along her skull.
“I warned them.” She muttered coldly to no one. Her dress was in a strange and unfamiliar cut, layered silks that seemed to shimmer in the flames. Her eyes widened for a moment as something grotesque and hunched scuttled across her procession.
The hunched thing eyed the woman with reptilian eyes, and a jet of flame spurted from its lips.
“You should know who is the stronger between us. Begone.” She commanded coldly, her flame-colored eyes, slit like a reptiles’, gleamed.
The unspeakable thing scuttled away without looking back.
*****
Moriko awoke from her strange dream feeling nauseous, belly cramped, her body drenched with sweat. She didn’t often have such vivid dreams, certainly not as vivid and terrifying as that one had been. The people she’d seen were unlike any people she’d seen entering and leaving the Shrine.
Even though there was nothing that tethered it to reality, she nevertheless spent some time looking at the ceiling, the walls, the carefully arranged furniture, the clothing rack with her kimono and hakama folded neatly across the rods as if to remind herself of what was real.
She tossed back the bedcovers and grimaced as she tried to roll out of bed.
On the day that Moriko woke up to the advent of her menarche, the first thing she did was bathe. The land around the Shrine of the Ancient Pine was blessed with mountain springs, some of which were naturally hot, so the bath soothed her cramps and sluiced away the blood. Her bedding- well, she would deal with that after her bath.
Some of the girls- plenty of them, in fact- often shrieked at the sight of their menses. They didn’t understand what it meant, panic would win over reason. Moriko herself had heard the calm, clinical and somewhat poetic explanation countless times; that nothing bad had happened, they had simply moved into a new phase of their lives, and were given a long and rather lengthy list of things that they could expect to happen to their bodies.
Moriko had heard it all before, so many times before, and so while the spreading red patch in her nightclothes was upsetting and somewhat disgusting, she calmly and immediately went to the baths.
Acolytes were given a choice whether or not they would like to leave the shrine, or take the next step and commit to the path of the Shrine Maiden. For some, a shrine was a short refuge. For others, a sanctuary to avoid a political scandal. For others still it was an orphanage, but for all of these people the shrine was a place of exercise, training, meditation, and education.
There were those others, however, that the shrine was much more. It wasn’t simply a brief sojourn on their life’s path; it was in fact the whole of their life. As far as Moriko was concerned, there was no choice- she wanted to be a Shrine Maiden. She would take her vows and dedicate herself to a life that revolved wholly around the Shrines.
Moriko herself had been given to the Shrines at birth. Some families who could not afford another mouth to feed did this. Some families donated a child per generation as a sign of respect to the system of shrines that covered the known world.
She’d been raised in the shrine; first in the Yamato homeland itself, and then sent to the Ancient Pine.
She didn’t much like the preferential treatment she received; she had been raised in the Shrines and so she should have been treated in the exact same way as the other acolytes, but there was always a hint of deference. Rules were bent to accommodate her.
What was supposed to be a harmonious sorority had instead become a battleground of competing ideals; Moriko was different so she should be treated differently, and the resentment that came from others because they didn’t receive the same amount of flexibility.
Moriko had been made to understand why she was treated differently, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with that. She wanted to be a Shrine Maiden, she wanted to be treated equally, fairly, and as harshly as all the others that she lived with.
As far as she was concerned, there was no point in the preferential treatment she received; there had never been any contact or communication from the family that had birthed her- and then summarily abandoned her on the steps of the Imperial Shrine.
*****
After her bath and prayers, she called for a Shrine Maiden and calmly announced that she was ready to begin the next phase of her training. The Shrine Maiden had given her a complicated look; the older woman was used to screams, crying, confusion. Moriko’s composed, almost indifferent attitude was unusual amongst the Acolytes.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Although she’d just bathed, she was told that she would need to undergo a ritual of purification, after which she would be required to attend a meeting with the Shrine Priestesses.
That upset her; usually the meeting to determine if she was ready to ascend the ranks to the Shrine Maidens would be held before a tribunal of the senior Shrine Maidens, and generally had nothing at all to do with the Shrine Priestesses. The irritation flashed within her again, a hot flare in her chest that seemed to set her heart on fire; she quenched her temper, though she could not help but nurse the embers.
After her bath, there was a certain noise, a sense of commotion outside. Moriko scrambled into her clothing and raced out into the sunlight of the training yard.
There was a woman standing in the yard, arms folded confidently across her chest. She was dressed in the garb of a Shrine Priestess, yet carried two swords.
She was clearly human, with her preposterous height, arrogant tilt of her head, and the truly staggering mane of wild, red-gold hair that tumbled down her shoulders, back, and hips like a molten avalanche of flame.
She eyed the scrambling Maidens and Acolytes with casual contempt, the arrogance was plain on her face.
For the briefest second her eyes met Moriko’s and the girl’s heart leaped in her chest. Moriko stepped back involuntarily from that imperious gaze, and then stubbornly, she took a step forward.
The woman never stopped eyeing the Maidens and Acolytes, her head moving, her hair dancing like a furious blaze.
For some inexplicable reason nobody dared approach the woman. What was that about?
People of various stations and trades often visited the Shrines. Traders, soldiers, nobles, farmers, the rich and the poor, the weak and the strong, they all visited the Shrines for trade, advice, counsel, information, wisdom. Shrines curated history, mapped the area, carried information that might normally be overlooked or ignored, grew medicinal plants, purified corruption, and stood as a bulwark between unknown chaos and known reality.
Usually an acolyte at the gates would guide visitors to the Shrine Priestesses so that they could tend to their business, whatever it might have been.
Why hadn’t the Acolytes or Maidens done the same with this woman? She clearly was dressed as a Priestess, shouldn’t she have been guided to the Priestesses of the Ancient Pine?
Moriko’s belly cramped fiercely, and sweat stood out on her brow. Honestly, she didn’t feel very good. She wasn’t sure what could be done about the dull, cramping ache in her guts that radiated throughout her body; standing, sitting, and laying down didn’t seem to alleviate the pain at all. Perhaps there was some sort of medicine she could take, but so far she hadn’t received any.
Still, despite the pain, the fever, and the growing headache that throbbed in her skull, she would see to her duty. She stepped forward to greet the unfamiliar Shrine Priestess.
“Oh? At least one of you is interesting.” The woman remarked in a voice that was layered with complexity.
Moriko’s stomach cramped as she approached the tall woman. The woman had to be at least six feet tall, perhaps more. She seemed to tower over everyone, even the other human acolytes and maidens.
“Is there something we can help you with, Shrine Priestess?” Moriko asked the taller woman.
“Probably.” was the woman’s response, and then took a knee in front of Moriko, lowering herself a bit to the Acolyte’s height.
“You reek of blood, Acolyte.” She offered in a low voice, and Moriko grimaced.
The woman chuckled.
“What Shrine are you from?” Moriko asked curiously.
“My temple was lost a long time before you were born, Acolyte. You needn’t worry about that. Where are your Priestesses?”
“They should likely be on their way to greet you now.” Moriko replied. The woman’s temple was lost? Shrines were lost from time to time. There were no temples.
“You hurt?” The woman asked curiously. Her eyes were dancing flames, her mouth was full of brilliant teeth that gleamed.
“Cramps.” Moriko involuntarily complained, and the woman laughed.
She reached for her belt and pulled out a bottle, which she indifferently pushed into Moriko’s hands. She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a tiny cup, the kind that was typically used for sampling sake. She took the bottle back from Moriko, thumbed off the cork, and poured a sip of liquid into the tiny cup and offered it to Moriko.
“Trust me, little one, it will help.” She offered, pushing the cup towards Moriko’s hands.
Moriko looked a question at the woman. Wasn’t alcohol forbidden to Acolytes and Maidens?
“Am I not a Priestess?” The woman inquired, and gestured to cup. “You have permission, little one. Drink.”
She held out a tiny shallow saucer with what looked to be water. Traces of red swirled in the liquid, and the pungent scent of liquor assaulted Moriko’s nostrils.
Moriko took the saucer, holding it with her fingertips, and looked to the woman curiously, who nodded.
“A gift: a taste of your homeland for you.”
Moriko took the sip of sake and nearly choked as the potent alcohol raced down her throat and the vapors rushed into her sinuses. Suddenly unsteady on her feet, she sat down abruptly, all the strength gone from her limbs.
“I am Kayelinth... and I am very interested in what you will do, Acolyte. I will be watching, so try not to disappoint me.”
The Shrine Priestess took the cup and bottle and rose to her feet and eyed the other acolytes and maidens, shifted her swords, and turned towards the Ancient Pine. She gave the tree a small, mocking smile, and greeted the trio of Shrine Priestesses that had finally reached the central yard.
The priestesses eyed Moriko sitting in the yard, legs akimbo.
“What are you doing, Acolyte? Find your feet.” They admonished her.
“Remember kindness.” The Priestess that had introduced herself as ‘Kayelinth’ admonished them. “Out of all the Maidens and Acolytes, she alone approached me.” She began. “I would like to discuss some things with you...” She seemed to sweep them up and herd them towards where the Shrine Priestesses conducted their affairs.