The Shrinekeeper's Prayer

The Shrinekeeper's Prayer

An Heir of Blood Short Story by Frank Holtham

Kaito Ayane was born in the northern mountains of Kaito Province, and thus she was used to the cold weather. Sharp winds that would gnaw at your bones, and frigid streams that would cut your flesh like daggers. Snow that began early and lasted well into spring. And so when she heard that her assignment would take her into Toritaka lands and to Crab lands she was overjoyed. The lands to the south may be infected with a spiritual impurity, and the ancient spirits and yokai of the Shinnomen Mori had spilled out into the Valley of Spirits, but at least it was warm. Or at least it should be.
As Ayane dumped the frigid water over her body she wondered if the winters of the Phoenix lands had followed her south. Just once, she thought, she would like to feel like a purification ritual was not driving a thousand needles into her skin. One had to let go of one’s selfish thoughts to fully cleanse their spirit, but was it so wrong to wish to have a nice, warm mountain spring once in a while?
Shivering, and moving a body she could scarcely feel, Ayane slipped her kimono back on and returned the ladle and bucket to the small shrine at the side of the waterfall. There were sources of pure water closer to Higashino Shiro no Kao, but the mountains always made Ayane feel more at peace. Closer to the spirits. To Nature.
But more importantly, further away from Kaiu Kazuya.
She would no doubt not hear the end of it from Terumori-san, knowing she wandered off so far alone without telling anyone, but she was no frail, defenseless little Asako or Isawa, used to life in temples or libraries. Ayane was born in the mountains. Raised in the mountains. And while she had never been to these forests and hills in particular, these seemed like mild foothills, compared to the Kaito peaks.
Her body now spiritually cleansed, Ayane picked up her belongings and whistled for her faithful dog, Kinu, to follow. It was time for her to pray for those who could no longer pray for themselves.
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There were many small shrines that littered the marshes and hills that lined the Valley of Spirits. Most of which lie in ruin, after the disaster that befell the Falcon two winters ago. Some have been given new stewards, others lay empty but trained phantom hunters and priests count them among their routes. And others, like this one, lie deep in ruin, untouched for over two years.
Ayane could feel the hatred that bled out of the dilapidated shrine. It would take more than simple sutras to appease the dead and usher them to Meido. More than simple offerings to appease the agimitama of the kami enshrined here. But she had to try. Because if she did not, then no one would.
She gave offerings to the kami, and lit sacred incense, those she was told the local kami preferred. Standing between the puffs of light smoke, she held her onusa in her hands, closed her eyes, and began her prayer, waving the wand left and right. She heard the wails of the dead, the cries of the kami. She opened her heart, let them scream into her. Allowed their pain, and anger to filter through her. To purify each malevolence, one at a time.
The minutes drifted into hours. Her knees grew weak, her fingers tight from clutching the onusa. Her stomach growled in pains of hunger, and her sacred robes clung to her skin, wet with sweat. And as Lady Amatarasu drifted behind the mountains she fell to her knees, hoping it was enough. Hoping she had done what she could.
She left the shrine, watching the sunset burn into the horizon. And that is when she realized she was not alone.
Kinu stood up, barked and growled towards the old torii arch, separating the clean from the unclean. Had a malevolent spirit not been purified? Was something lying in wait, waiting for her to become physically weak? She drew her bow, her hands tightening on the grip.
She sighed, lowering her weapon. “Sit, boy. It’s a friend.” Ayane let out a deep sigh of relief, looking up at the now visible figure at the torii arch, the unmistakable grey blindfold blocking out his eyes. “You know, Uramasu-sama, if you are going to sneak up on anyone, could you please not do it on someone who can sense the supernatural? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
The ancient spirit effortlessly moved into the courtyard of the ruined shrine. He clasped his hands together and gave a bow to the building, waiting for Ayane to follow suit. After both had once again given prayer to the kami, he spoke, his voice gliding across cold spring air.
“I am surprised to see you here, Ayane-san. This shrine is so far away from the castle. Surely there were other shrines easier to get to?”
“It is entirely because this place is so far away that I came here, Uramasu-sama. The dead here have been lost for so long. The closer you get to the heart of the mountain, the greater the impurity will become. If I do not go out of my way to pray for them, then who will?”
Uramasu turned to her, his gaze looking through her. He stood motionless, staring at her for an uncomfortable amount of time.
Ayane could feel his gaze penetrate her. Like he was rooting around her soul, scraping for clues. She stood there, nervously, unsure what to make of the spirit. Another moment and she would have built up the courage to ask her superior to stop, but he thankfully spoke.
“Even for a shrine keeper, you put an extra amount of care into dealing for the dead. Tell me, Ayane-san. Why is that? Do you pity them? Grieve for them?” He paused, the words crawling off his lips. “No. I sense something else. I sense…”
“I envy them.” Ayane sighed, defeated. If Uramasu had been able to so skillfully read her, she might as well be the one to speak her thoughts. “The living have to constantly struggle to remain well in the hearts and minds of others, Uramasu-sama. One tiny mistake, one simple grievance can take us from the peak of friendship, crumbling down into an abyss of animosity. We constantly struggle to love and to be loved. But the dead…”
Ayane let a simple smile cross her face, her gaze overlooking the sunset. “The dead are static in our memories. Their imperfections smoothed over, the fond memories exaggerated. They no longer have the ability to fall from grace, and thus we can never compete with them. Such perfection cannot be allowed to wallow like this. I owe it to the memories of those who are left.”
Uramasu’s gaze lingers over to the shrine. “You speak with wisdom beyond your years, Ayane-san. I know not of your past, but I do know that grief brings with it seeds of wisdom. And so I offer condolences on your loss. They are honored by your memory of them.”
Utterly defeated by the millenia old spirit, Ayane groaned, deflating. “There is really nothing you can’t see, is there, Uramasu-sama? It’s no wonder people feel so uncomfortable around you.” Ayane took a deep breath, revitalizing herself and stretching, her nerves put at ease. “But still. I appreciate the compliment, but I am still young, you know. I am only 6 months past my Gempukku.”
“And yet still 4 winters younger than Kazuya-san, who also is a mere 6 months past his Gempukku. Do not take yourself lightly, Ayane-san.”
“I am not sure if that is an insult to Kazuya, or a compliment to me, Uramasu-sama. But either way, I will accept it.” Her spirits lifted, and her body a little recovered from her exhausting prayers, Ayane gathered her belongings once more, preparing for a return down the mountain. “Will you be staying here, or returning to the castle, Uramasu-sama?” “You go on ahead, Ayane-san. I have business in these woods. There is yet another I need to see.”
Ayane pondered a rebuttal for a moment, and considered asking if he needed her help. As uncomfortable as he may be, she honestly did enjoy Uramasu’s company. And at the very least, it would keep her away from Kazuya for a little longer.
But ultimately she decided not to, bowing and wishing him luck on his ventures. She was tired and fatigued from spending the day in prayer. And hungry from fasting for the past 48 hours. But more than that, there was something about the way he said that he had ‘business in the woods’ that gave her a bad feeling.