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The Fog of the Moon
Moriko at the Ancient Pine 4

Moriko at the Ancient Pine 4

Moriko’s departure from the shrine was smooth and without problems in the beginning. She woke up early, collected her belongings, took a little medicine in anticipation of the long journey down the stairs, and joined the group of twelve Maidens.

They immediately kicked her out of their formation.

“You’re just an acolyte. Don’t think of yourself as a Maiden yet.” Their leader remarked brusquely. “You haven’t even fought anything, yet. Get up ahead with the Priestesses and leave the rear formation to the Maidens.”

She approached the Priestesses, who eyed her with cool disdain. “You’re just an acolyte. What are you doing up here? Don’t you understand formations? Get back where you belong, with the Maidens.”

After these remonstrations, she took up a position between the Maidens and the Priestesses, her head on a swivel. The whole world stretched out before her, unknown and unknowable. There were all sorts of trees and plants and animals she had never seen before.

Her eyes probed the underbrush at the slightest sound. Birds flitted from tree to tree; Moriko followed them alertly, hand on her shortsword thrust in her belts.

After they reached the road that ran from Begierde and Doran, they crossed it and entered the forest. One of the Shrine Maidens gestured at Moriko.

“Why don’t you try stringing your little training bow, and venture out a bit. Not so far that you can’t see us. Hunt us down some rabbits for dinner.”

Finally given a task to do, Moriko strung her bow deftly and headed into the unfamiliar forest and scanned the ground for any sign of rabbit. She climbed over rocks, skipped over roots, trotted across flat expanses of ground, keeping an eye on the party and the other out for rabbits.

Surprisingly, she discovered a few, and let her arrows fly. Out of five arrows she managed to bag three rabbits on the run. She debated retrieving her arrows, and decided that she should be fine as long as she was quick about it.

On her return, she realized she’d lost the party, so she cast around for tracks and caught up with them swiftly, where she was lectured for “wandering off on her own.” The Shrine Maidens got an earful too, they were supposed to keep her from wandering off as well.

The Shrine Maidens glared at her when she held up her catch, a trio of coneys she felt an absurd pride in taking while they were running. Archery was a contest between the shooter and the target, and she had won. Surely that was worth some measure of pride.

When they stopped for the evening, the Shrine Maidens made it explicitly clear that she was expected to dress her kills.

“I’ve never done anything like that before.” She replied.

“Of course you haven’t, you’re just an acolyte.” They sneered.

One of the younger ones jerked her head for Moriko to follow and took Moriko to one of the tiny creeks that eventually fed into what the people of Nauders called The Great Mother River.

“Okay, first get out your knife. You’re going to need to-”

She looked at Moriko, who had reached for her kaiken.

“You didn’t even bring a knife with you?”

Moriko blinked in response. “I have one, I-”

The girl sighed. “That’s a knife to defend yourself with, not to dismantle prey.” She explained with all the condescension she could muster for someone so catastrophically stupid.

“Look... just take it.” She offered Moriko her knife and pulled out a second blade.

“You need to be able to carry several knives.” the girl warned. “A good utility blade will take you further in the field than a ceremonial knife for self-defense.”

She explained how to clean and skin the rabbits for dinner. “Now go and offer them to the Shrine Priestesses. I’m sure they’ll be happy to eat something besides trail rations.”

Moriko approached the Shrine Priestesses with her rabbits in tow. They eyed her disdainfully.

“You’re filthy already? And covered in blood, I see. Not yours, I take it?” the Eldest inquired, eyeing the skinned and prepared rabbits.

Moriko shook her head.

“Well, at least you’ve got initiative.” the Eldest muttered, but one of the other Priestesses demurred. “If she had initiative, she would have set up the tents with the Shrine Maidens.” She remarked, flicking scornful eyes at the young acolyte.

Moriko kept back her sigh, offered them the rabbits, which they accepted, and retreated to the Shrine Maidens. They chivvied the young girl as they taught her how to set up a tent, start a fire, and received her food for the evening, a bland meal of boiled oats.

She knew what they were doing, of course. In the Shrine, everything was a test, a prick of the finger, a jab at the conscience, a foot casually extended in a calculated move to make the other trip.

Tests revealed the inner map of the mind, and for those who would live and worship in the shrine, it was very important to understand the depth, width, and breadth of the person you were dealing with.

*****

The eldest Shrine Maiden took her aside just as she was about to retire for the night. Her eyes were heavy, her whole body ached, and she was eager to go to sleep, but it seemed as though the Eldest had other plans.

“I’m going to try and teach you the Art of Ofuda.” The senior sister explained, and laid out several slips of paper in front of Moriko.

“Concentrate. Consider what you will need tomorrow. Will it be healing? Defense? Purification? A tool? A weapon? Think on these things, and memorize this song I am about to sing. Think carefully, because you will only have one chance at this each night, before bed.”

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The Eldest laid out a double dozen slips of paper in front of herself, with confused Moriko. Why did she get so many? Why was Moriko only allowed three?

The eldest hummed for a moment, and then launched into a rhythmic chant. At the Eldest Shrine Maiden’s cue, Moriko joined in and struggled to match the Eldest’s rhythm.

“These are the prayers to our Patron, who rewards our faith with the ability to use these powers.” The Eldest finished and examined her spell-slips with satisfaction. She glanced over at Moriko’s, and her mouth twisted.

“So that’s what you think you will need, hmm? We’ll see about that.”

*****

As the days spent traveling multiplied, Moriko learned more and more about what it meant to be a Shrine Maiden. In the beginning, she understood that they were a fighting force, but the time spent on the trail revealed so much more.

They could fight, certainly, but they could, through their connection to the various kami, also purify the dead, ward away illnesses and disease, heal, create defensive wards and barriers, binding spells, and offensive magics.

Each of these things required a connection to the kami in order to accomplish. Moriko herself was unaware of which kami her soul belonged to. That was something that she was meant to discover after her trip, it seemed.

Since she had no idea which kami was responsible for her soul, her ability to create her ofuda was limited to the basest and ordinary spells: create water, create light, and a meager healing spell that was useful for healing the cuts and scratches and small bruises she received while traveling with the Shrine Maidens.

She learned survival skills such as setting up and tearing down her tent, which plants were edible and which were dangerous, how to hunt and fish efficiently, and how to start a fire without a flint and steel.

They also drilled her on the sword, something she disliked. She preferred the bow or the spear, but it seemed as though the Maidens had been expressly told to drill her relentlessly with the sword. They pressed her and pressed her, and finally, in a fit of pique, she used her ofuda to toss water in the face of the Shrine Maiden that was pressing her with the sword.

The woman stumbled back, and Moriko, small and quick and light, hooked the woman’s foot out from underneath her. She was about to level her sword at the woman to force her surrender when suddenly her body was forcefully grappled with thousands of threadlike, creeping twisting vines that wound themselves around her arms, legs and stomach and jerked her off her feet and slammed her to the ground. The Shrine Maiden rolled to her feet with an easy grin and leveled her own sword at Moriko’s throat.

“You lost when you made this a fight with spells, Acolyte.” The Maiden announced, wiping her face.

“I yield.” Moriko complained bitterly.

The maiden cut her free of the vines and helped her up. “Still, I must admit it was surprising to get a faceful of water.” The young woman admitted. She pulled back the sleeve on her kimono, revealing a brutal scar that ran the length of her forearm. “Never make the mistake that a fight will always conform to the kata.” She advised Moriko. “It’s important to use whatever means necessary to win.”

Moriko nodded.

“Good. let’s see your forms again; starting with the second kata.” the Maiden voiced briskly. Moriko rolled her eyes, and did as she was instructed.

Every night Moriko would see to herself as instructed, and in the morning she would secretly take a little of the painkiller she had been given to deal with the cramps. The pain made her want to curl into a ball; the painkiller made her queasy and lightheaded before it kicked in. During the day she foraged, sparred, prayed and sang and tried to soak up as much as she could.

It was just past the halfway point between the Shrine of the Ancient Pine and the Shrine of the Stony Pool when a titanic bear rumbled out of the woods, roaring a challenge.

Moriko froze; she’d never seen such a huge beast before. When it rose to its feet, it towered over her. When it dropped to all fours to charge at her, she was vaguely mesmerized by the rippling of its thick, shaggy hide.

Someone shouted, “Run, Moriko!” which snapped her back to awareness. Moriko bolted, feet slapping the ground as the monstrous beast thundered behind her, growling and huffing.

She spotted a tree; she leapt with all her might and caught one of the low-hanging branches. She swung herself up and shrieked as the bear rose up, massive paws extending brutal claws that dug into the tree. It hadn’t even risen to its full height and already it was reaching the branch she was on!

She climbed higher and higher still as the bear snapped branches and shredded bark and roared thunderously as it struggled to reach her.

The bear, frustrated that it couldn’t reach her, suddenly began shoving the tree. Moriko let out another shriek as the tree groaned with the force the bear was putting against it. The tree wasn’t that big around; barely past a sapling. At the height she’d climbed, the limb she was on could barely support her weight.

The trunk groaned and creaked as the bear shoved. Moriko glanced around herself as she struggled to think of something she could do. All of her things were back at camp. She had no bow, no spear, she didn’t even have the short sword she’d been given at the start of her journey. She had no weapon with which to threaten or even hurt the bear with.

She glanced down and straight into the glaring, bloodshot eyes of the bear. It’s enormous mouth opened and its breath, rancid and redolent of things left to rot washed over her. She gagged on the stench, and nearly lost her footing when the thing let out an earth-shattering roar.

She pulled out the slip of paper that’d been charged with a water spell and released it; a splash of water hit the thing right in the mouth and the bear gurgled and choked, momentarily dropping to all fours as it struggled to force the water out.

Moriko swung down out of the tree and dashed off as quickly as she could, desperate to put as much distance between her and the monster as she could.

As she ran, trees streamed by to the left and right of her. Which direction was she going? She couldn’t tell offhand, but since her shadow was directly in front of her, she guessed she was heading west.

The bear roared again, and once again she could hear the thunderous stampede of its massive feet as it lumbered after her.

She ducked and dodged around pines, and spotted a boarswood tree.

Boarswood was a dense, strong wood that some people used as armor. It was fireproof, and its bark was as difficult to carve up as the wood itself. She leaped into the branches of the tree, and pulled herself higher and higher still, until she was certain that the bear wouldn’t be able to reach her.

The bear dashed past the tree she was in, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her.

She could still hear the thing as it thundered past; she fancied she could feel the reverberation of its heavy tread in her chest as she struggled to calm her breathing.

She pulled herself higher into the tree, and hugged the trunk to keep herself still, and make herself as small as possible.

The bear came back, and circled the tree. She moved with the bear as it circled the tree, lightly stepping on thick branches to keep the trunk between her and the bear. She didn’t want the beast to catch sight of her. She wouldn’t be able to make any more water for a full day. With that thought, she mentally kicked herself. Her brush and paper were back at camp, along with the rest of her things.

The bear circled the tree a few times, and then moved off a ways. She slowly settled herself to a sitting position on one of the thicker branches, and eyed the giant beast carefully.

What was she supposed to do? She had her knife with her, but she didn’t have the strength to slice through that thick hide. She considered cutting or breaking one of the branches to use as a club, but belatedly remembered that she was in a boarswood tree. She was no lumberjack with the necessary strength to carve through the dense wood of a boarswood tree.

She examined her options one by one until she came to the depressing conclusion that she was stuck.