#Cliff Hanging Monastery

[maureen2musings]

Tiger's Nest, Paro, Bhutan

The Tiger's Nest is a Vajrayana Buddhist monastery that hangs on a precarious cliff at 3,120 metres (10,240 ft).

isabellandscapes

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

Chapter of the Fireflies: Those Who Yearn

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: Midway of Raven of the Empty Coffin, after the Chihaya chapter

Characters (in order of relevance): Masuho no Susuki, Akeru, Sumio, Yukiya, Hamayuu, Nazukihiko, Chihaya, Shigemaru.

Synopsis: During Yukiya's second year at the Monastery, he takes the lead role during the Boys' Festival celebrations at Cherry Blossom Palace. The inciting incident to a strange proposal...

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Those Who Yearn(1)

It all happened during the Boys’ Festival(2).

At the time, the mountains were full to the brim with new leaves, all sparkling like green jewels under the dazzling sunlight, but in Cherry Blossom Palace none was more splendid than Sakura no Kimi, the Crown Prince's wife. 

An aroma so strong it was almost overbearing came from the ornamental scent bags hanging around the place. They were made with mugwort and iris, and decorated with freshly cut flowers and five-colored strings that were now swaying in the blowing wind. For the first time in three long years, the Horse Racing Ceremony was to take place at the riding grounds in front of Cherry Blossom Palace.

Within Yamauchi, the Boys’ Festival was, for the most part, structured to take two days. During the first, Medicine Hunting(3) took place, and Horse Racing was scheduled for the second.

As for Medicine Hunting, just like the name implied, the term originally referred to a religious service(4) consisting of the picking of medicinal herbs and the acquisition of deer antlers. The first day was, in fact, the most important part of the event. It was when the Golden Raven, the chief of all Yatagarasu, would perform a ritual known as ‘Antler Knocking’, in which he would retrieve the antlers of a nine-colored deer(5) raised by the Bureau of Medicine.

However, in modern days, real deer hunting had come to take place simultaneously with the ritual at one of the hunting grounds on the Center's property. The attendees were mostly young noblemen, purposely for the sake of building up their stamina in preparation for the coming summer, who would later go on to present their acquired prey at the Court. The second day's Horse Racing Ceremony was intended as a reenactment, showing off their performance during the hunt itself.

For the Yatagarasu, who possessed both the form of a human and a three-legged giant crow, to employ another member of their own race as a ‘horse’ and ride it was an act requiring permission only given to a limited number of privileged. So, during the event, the young noblemen who took part in the hunt rode outstanding giant crows, all specially chosen for the occasion, and shot an arrow each towards an earthenware deer statue as they flew towards it.

There were multiple potential riding grounds in the Center, so the one used for the festivities was chosen by the priests after seeking Lord Yamagami's divine will. That said, for the one by Cherry Blossom Palace to go unchosen for three years was unheard of. After all, there was in truth another altogether different criteria than divine will playing a hand in the events. 

On the sides of the cliff where Cherry Blossom Palace stood, there were covered paths built to bridge the different buildings. Thin bamboo screens had been placed on them, making it impossible to look at whoever hid within them. There sat the Ladies in Waiting under the service of Sakura no Kimi, the edges of their kimono visible from underneath the curtains. Peeking from underneath the green bamboo were colors as vivid and pleasing to the eye as the peonies and azaleas that decorated the many ornamental scent bags around.

Masuho no Susuki, the head of Sakura no Kimi’s Ladies in Waiting, watched over such a scene with the indifference of an onlooker. She was standing on top of a stage which overlooked the roofed paths where the others were waiting in line.

To the opposite side, at the halfway point between the stage and the mountain, a tall rock protruded upwards with a red deer statue on top of it. Giant crows flapped their dark wings as the young noblemen on their backs approached the statue one after the other, mimicking the act of shooting their bows.

While they all feigned indifference, they kept giving curious glances at what hid behind the bamboo blinds—most likely, picturing in their minds the ladies’ beauty through their lovely clothes. Something that the women within were very well aware of. They had, in fact, gone through great lengths to look their best for the day. Aware as she was of their hard efforts, Masuho no Susuki looked warmly over the scene from underneath her long-handled parasol.

The Ladies in Waiting serving at Cherry Blossom Palace were often young, beautiful women—and their chances to meet the sons of the nobility were quite scarce. Many of them ended up marrying someone just for their families’ sake without ever meeting face to face with their husband before the fact. Hence, it had become custom to use the Horse Racing Ceremony as an excuse for a bachelor line-up.

The number of successful marriages among the nobility went noticeably up every year the Ceremony took place at Cherry Blossom Palace compared to the others. Some young men had even gotten the chance to successfully rise up in standing after a high-ranking princess fell in love with them at first sight, so none were more psyched up during the day’s exhibition than those of the low nobility.

Just a few years ago, as Masuho no Susuki calmly realized, she would have been the most concerned with the beauty of that barely visible kimono edge. Yet now that her plentiful waving locks had been replaced with the hairstyle of a nun, the only thing she felt was utter disinterest.

The highest of the nobility, besides the Golden Raven, who stood at the top of Yamauchi’s hierarchy, were the Four Houses, who had all been entrusted with the ruling of the territories in each of the cardinals—the Eastern, Southern, Western and Southern Houses. Each Region had their own unique produce and crafts they specialized in, and their best goods and talent were all henceforth sent to the Imperial Court. In doing so, the economy at Yamauchi’s Center stayed in motion.

Masuho no Susuki had been born as the first princess of the Western House, which held craftsmanship as its regional specialty and, until not that long ago, she had been one of the candidates to become the wife of the Crown Prince—Wakamiya.

Masuho no Susuki’s beauty had been without equal at the time, even compared to the other beautiful princesses sent by the Four Houses to Cherry Blossom Palace as prospective wives. There had been no doubt she would be the one chosen and yet, in the end, it wasn’t her but a lady of the Southern House—the West's political rivals—who became Sakura no Kimi.

Ever since infancy, Masuho no Susuki had spent her life with the conviction that she would be chosen as the prince's wife. She had longed for Wakamiya—who had grown into quite the attractive young man, a perfectly matching picture to the memories of those moments in her youth spent together—more than anyone else. A fact that had driven her to believe that, in the unfortunate and unlikely case she went unchosen, it would be the end of her. That she wouldn’t be able to live on.

Reality, however, couldn’t have been more different from her imagination.

The moment Masuho no Susuki actually met Wakamiya during the consort selection process, she came to discover that the attraction wasn’t there at all. He even told the candidates—of all things to say—that ‘he didn't particularly like them, and there's a possibility he may end up betraying them in the future.’ That ‘if they didn’t mind that, he would make them his wives.’

His arrogance was plain for anyone to see as he stomped all over the love the princesses held for him. Masuho no Susuki was a prideful woman and this wasn't something she could ever overlook. In fact, she had been so worried about the Southern princess, who had actually gone and accepted such terms, that in the heat of the moment she became a nun and a Lady in Waiting serving her.

Those of the Western House had been beside themselves with disappointment, apparently, but Masuho no Susuki saw the instant she cut down the same hair she had prided herself in as being freed of something possessing her. From that point onwards, she had lost all interest in romantic love.

She learned afterwards that Wakamiya's circumstances were what left him with no other option but to be realistic to a fault like that. While it gave her a newfound respect and admiration for the Southern princess, as she had chosen to become his wife with full knowledge of the brutal circumstances she was embroiling herself in, she still couldn't picture herself as Wakamiya’s wife at all from that day onwards.

She had never expected to find such a side to herself, but she had come to discover that she liked this version of herself—someone who kept her dignity and pride—much more than the woman drunk on love she had once been. So, what alternative did she have?

——An hour or so had passed since the start of the ceremony.

The last shooter should be about to arrive at the scene. This star shooter, unlike the other young noblemen taking part in the event before him, didn’t have to feign the act—his role was to shoot an arrow and actually hit the deer effigy. Successfully taking it down brought good fortune and failure brought misfortune, or so the story went, which made it an important duty to bear.

Ever since that tiny boy had left to train to become a high-ranking military officer, Masuho no Susuki hadn’t had much of a chance to meet with him—would he be actually capable of successfully fulfilling the task?

Suddenly, the sound of bells ringing resounded in the distance.

“He's coming, Lady Masuho no Susuki,” the Lady in Waiting waiting beside her announced nervously.

It wasn’t the shooter ringing the bells, but the herald. Ting-ting-ting. A giant crow led the way, the bells producing their shrill sound as it moved forwards. It flew much, much faster than any of the young noblemen had before. In fact, Masuho no Susuki couldn’t help but wonder with a touch of fear whether it was too much speed.

Yet, right behind the heralding giant crow came the shooter—and he proved to be just as swift. The rider, laid down on top of his steed, lifted his body all of a sudden with smooth, graceful movements as the sleeves of his cool light blue kimono—embroidered with silver—flapped in the wind, the gold of the stirrups sparkling under the sun.

The shooter, with his back now fully straightened as if he were unfolding, clung tightly to his mount's back using just his thighs while he gracefully drew the bow.

A woosh, and the arrow came loose with a sound not unlike a high-pitched whistle, piercing the deer effigy as if it had been sucked in. The effigy immediately crashed down with a clatter, giving no time for the bell to ring to indicate the shooter had successfully hit the target.

The spectators cheered, and the shooter dropped his speed. He then drew a loose arc in the sky, flying towards the spot where Masuho no Susuki awaited him. In the process, he passed by the roofed paths and their excited occupants but, unlike the other young men taking part in the ceremony, he didn't pay them even a single glance. The other young men, who had been on standby right underneath the stage, flew up and positioned right behind him.

The star shooter—a scion of the Northern House, once Wakamiya's close aide and a boy Masuho no Susuki regarded as her own little brother—smoothly landed on the stage where Masuho no Susuki stood with the spectacularly dressed young noblemen right after him.

Actually, no—calling him a ‘boy’ didn't feel right anymore. The young man had now dismounted with ease and approached Masuho no Susuki with a broad smile on his lips.

“It’s been so long, Lady Masuho no Susuki.”

His friendly voice was unfamiliar to her ears, somewhat hoarse as it was so characteristic of teenage boys. Masuho no Susuki was taken aback.

‘Who is this?’

Of course, she knew his name. Asking would be stupid, she realized that much. Still, and despite having met so many times before, the man in front of her looked like a completely different person in her eyes.

“Are you… Yukiya?”

“I am, yes. I've come to bring this year's Boys’ Festival's medicine to Sakura no Kimi.”

After giving his face a long, hard look, Masuho no Susuki could in fact tell those were without question Yukiya's features, but he had changed so much that it was almost a guarantee to confuse him for another.

His cheeks, once round like a baby's, were now lean, giving him the distinctive look of a warrior, and the outline of his face was that of a young man, firm and defined. His skin had a healthy tan to it and his somewhat light-colored eyes sparkled. To top it all off, he had become noticeably taller compared to their last meeting—it was now Masuho no Susuki who had to look up.

It actually felt like a fox had disguised itself to deceive her.

“Lady Masuho no Susuki?” Yukiya called out to her, perplexed.

After finally coming back to herself, a panicking Masuho no Susuki proceeded to respond as custom demanded. “You did a good job coming here. Sakura no Kimi must be no doubt overjoyed as well.”

“There's no bigger honor than that,” Yukiya courteously bowed his head and signaled behind him with his eyes. The moment he did that, a number of warriors—all fully clad in black—briskly stepped forward from the group and proceeded to place in a line the medicine, deer meat and antlers they had brought, all loaded on small offering stands.

Once she verified that everything in the checklist was accounted for, Masuho no Susuki nodded in approval. “Everything has arrived safely indeed.”

“Please, send my best regards to Her Highness.” A pleasant, refreshing smile later, Yukiya nimbly jumped back onto the giant crow's back. “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Masuho no Susuki bowed slightly at him and Yukiya gave her a firm last greeting back before taking off. The flashily dressed young noblemen, who had been looking over their exchange with keen interest, followed after Yukiya this time as well—although they were clearly reluctant to do so.

Their group flew away, in the direction of the Imperial Court, as Masuho no Susuki watched over them. With them gone, all that remained on the stage was the ‘medicine’ sent for Sakura no Kimi, the Ladies in Waiting and a small number of warriors who had stayed to help carry the delivered goods to Cherry Blossom Palace.

It was among those warriors that Masuho no Susuki found the face of someone who wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her eyes went wide open. “Sumio, is it really fine for you to be here?"

Sumio had a dark complexion and a somewhat small build for a warrior, and he was always found by his Lord Wakamiya’s side as his bodyguard. His lord, always keen to abuse his infamy at the Court as a ‘fool’, had no qualms to indulge in his bad habit of skipping ceremonies and, to make matters worse, Sakura no Kimi, his wife, didn’t reprimand him—she instead went as far as to willingly help him on occasion. All in all, it was a pain to deal with.

Just the day before, Sakura no Kimi had actually gotten news of Wakamiya secretly escaping from the Court and had left for Sunrise Palace—where Wakamiya had been supposed to be—to act as his literal body double. She wasn't even supposed to ever come out from Cherry Blossom Palace.

Masuho no Susuki had waited with bated breath ever since, hoping her absence went unnoticed by everyone, but the situation had to have somehow resolved itself. Otherwise, Sumio wouldn’t have been there at the event. He ran towards her with a slight, wry smile on his lips and stopped some distance away from her.

“I know we've caused you much worry, but Wakamiya has now returned to Sunrise Palace. Sakura no Kimi should be back here as well tonight—she's at Sunrise Palace right now,” Sumio announced to her in a whisper, low enough that nobody else but Masuho no Susuki could hear him.

“I see.” Masuho no Susuki let out a sigh of relief.

Every single time, it was Sumio and Masuho no Susuki's job to clean up whatever mess Wakamiya and his wife caused by acting irresponsibly. She had gotten quite used to it—a feeling she actually found terrifying when she stopped to think about it, although there was little to no point to complaining after being at it for so long.

The weight on her shoulders now lifted, her mind couldn’t help but to turn towards the events that had just transpired. “Still, what a huge surprise. I knew that Yukiya would be taking on the role of the star shooter, but—”

“I know what you mean…… He has grown up a lot, hasn't he?”

“I mean, yes, that kid was shorter than me last time we met.”

Masuho no Susuki's actual little brother had joined the Unbending Reed Monastery—the same training facility for military officers Yukiya attended—at the same time as Yukiya did. Despite their circumstances, Masuho no Susuki had gotten the chance to meet with her brother from time to time, but his growth rate hadn’t been nearly as dramatic as Yukiya.

“It's as the outer books say, right? ‘If you don't meet a young man for three days, pay attention’(6),” Sumio responded as he smiled wryly.

Masuho no Susuki, on the other hand, quietly muttered, “Seeing him grow makes me happy, but… It does make one feel a bit lonely……”

The source of her turmoil was, most likely, a gnawing feeling of loss. Whenever she thought about how that innocent boy was gone from this world—even if she technically knew it was a good thing and she should be glad for his growth—the sensation that overtook her was one beyond description.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

After finishing up the matters at Cherry Blossom Palace, Sumio flew right back to Sunrise Palace. There awaited the young men who had just recently joined him in the ranks of Wakamiya’s bodyguards. Their nerves were plain on their faces, but their expressions shifted to ones of relief the very second they saw Sumio return. 

Well, not like Sumio could blame them for that.

Their Lord and his wife were found within the annex they were guarding, but the couple didn’t obey common sense and dealing with their sudden whims was still a bit too heavy a task for the new guards. Apparently, they had been trembling with fear at the possibility of receiving some ridiculous order during Sumio's absence.

But Sumio was here now and the young Guards let him pass inside.

“I'm back,” Sumio opened the door and announced his arrival with a very familiar tone—something usually unthinkable from a servant. There, in front of a desk facing the window, was a young couple, their appearances remarkably similar, drinking tea with complete ease.

“Good job out there. How were things at Cherry Blossom Palace?” The handsome young man who asked the question was none other than Sumio's childhood friend and the Lord he had sworn his loyalty to—His Highness Wakamiya. His straight hair was tied at his nape and fell over his light purple kimono. He was dressed casually, with no hakama.

“It all went without a hitch. It may go without saying, but nobody noticed Sakura no Kimi's absence.”

“How was Yukiya?” Sakura no Kimi—Princess Hamayuu, who was dressed in the exact same outfit as her husband, asked with clear amusement. Dressing gown or not, that outfit probably still qualified as male attire, yet it was quite the perfect fit for the tall princess, who was constantly taking the role of Wakamiya's body double.

“That too went without issue. However, I brought a message with me from Lady Masuho no Susuki for Sakura no Kimi—’For all of the world, please, let's not have another ceremony take place in your absence ever again. Also, please, return as soon as possible.’”

Sumio replied to Hamayuu with some degree of respect, but the oddly-dressed princess just cackled in answer. “She doesn't learn her lesson either, huh? She should have figured out by now that I won't listen no matter how many times she asks.” 

“I guess she can't hold herself back from trying,” Sumio spoke a tad emotionally—he felt exactly the same way as her after all. The young couple was, unfortunately, impervious to his tame attempt at sarcasm.

“Anyway, now that Masuho no Susuki has shown her face in front of those noblemen, we'll have quite a commotion awaiting from here on.”

“What do you mean?” Wakamiya asked his wife.

Hamayuu let out a snort. “Isn't it obvious? I mean there’ll be marriage proposals aplenty.”

“I see…” Wakamiya’s eyebrows lowered. “But Lady Masuho has become a nun, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem…”

“Quite the opposite. She let down her guard because she's a nun now and showed her face, and I'm convinced that's going to backfire on her.”

Sumio couldn't help but to agree with Hamayuu’s argument in his mind. Masuho no Susuki had never cut corners when it came to her appearance when she had still been a candidate to become Wakamiya's wife, always dressed in tremendously splendid outfits.

However, ever since she had decided to serve Hamayuu as her Lady in Waiting, she had come to prefer plain outfits with subdued colors. But she wasn’t the princess renowned as the most beautiful in Yamauchi for nothing. Far from diminishing her appearance, it had actually come to highlight her own natural charm and in turn made her stand out even more than before.

The events of the day had been no different in that regard. The young noblemen's eyes had been hopelessly glued on her the entire time as they passed on the medicine, however brief a moment it had been. 

“It's at my discretion as her master to decide whether she returns to secular life or not, after all. Wait for it, I assure you there'll be letters arriving nonstop to Cherry Blossom Palace from tomorrow onwards,” Hamayuu declared as her lips curved upwards.

Wakamiya tilted his head with an ‘uhm’. “And looking at you, it seems you're more than eager to receive such proposals for Lady Masuho?”

“Of course I am! It's Masuho no Susuki we're talking about! To make such a beautiful and good-natured woman waste her life away serving me is no hobby of mine. It would be such a shame, who could do that?” Hamayuu yelled at him. “That said, I have no plans to give her away to some no-good noble. To marry Masuho no Susuki is to quite literally gain the Western House as your ally. There should be someone, right? Someone ready-made for her, in need of the Western House's influence.”

Wakamiya, who had seemingly realized where the conversation was going, grimaced. “Hey……”

“It's a good opportunity. I've told you this many times before, but you really should be taking Masuho no Susuki as your concubine.”

Wakamiya, faced with his legal wife's keen glare, sighed. He was clearly sick of it. “And I've told you this many times before. As nice as gaining the Western House as my ally sounds, the West-affiliated nobles will undoubtedly get carried away if I do that.”

“Do you really think you have the leeway to say that in your current situation? You barely have any allies and, to make matters worse, you have political enemies everywhere. Shouldn't you secure your position first, even if that means turning a blind eye to those who use their lineage to throw their weight around?”

“And I’m telling you that's absolutely not a problem I can turn a blind eye to. This is a topic that concerns the future course of the Imperial Family, I must not cheap out on my methods.”

“You say that, but where's the meaning in that if you get killed for taking things too slowly?”

The conversation had gotten to a point beyond the realm where Sumio could even dare to open his beak. And so, under their bodyguard's watchful gaze, their very un-couple-like argument kept escalating further and further.

“Don't fuck with me, what's even your problem with Masuho no Susuki!? That girl will certainly be a good mother. If I were a man, I would have taken her as my legal wife without hesitation! Are you freaking blind?” Hamayuu picked Wakamiya up by the collar.

“Your logic is off. It's not like I have any problem with Lady Masuho.”

“Of course you don't! If you had said otherwise, I would have had to do you the favor of destroying your sorry ass here and now.”

“Wait a moment. What even are you to Lady Masuho?”

“I'm Masuho no Susuki's master and your wife. It's me of all people who's telling you it's fine to go with it. What other issue can you have to not take her as your concubine?”

“It's nothing but issues. Anyway, I’m not taking Lady Masuho as my concubine, I won't back down on this.” 

While he didn't resist Hamayuu's grip, Wakamiya remained otherwise unyielding. Hamayuu finally clicked her tongue and, all of a sudden, dropped him. Sumio took some newly poured cold brewed tea and quietly placed it in front of them. 

——The exchange had been a bit violent, but Sumio knew very well that, for this oddball couple, it was just some form of play.

Hamayuu promptly accepted the glass teacup and drank it all in one go. That done, she stared at Wakamiya with squinted eyes. “...... I’ve realized as much, you know? That the Western House's Lord and Heir must be begging you to take her as your concubine. Won't it become a problem for you to disregard their wishes like that?”

Wakamiya, who had been quite a bit more well-mannered while drinking his tea, left the translucent cup on the floor with a clink. “Even if that's the case, my stance is the same. I can't take Lady Masuho as my concubine, given how it will affect power dynamics.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

Hamayuu’s face was one of disappointment—and it most definitely wasn't an act on her part. “Then, what are you planning to do? To keep Masuho no Susuki as a nun is just too much of a waste.”

This time around, Wakamiya nodded in agreement. “I feel the same, yes. If possible, I would want her to play a role in strengthening the ties between the Four Houses.”

Hamayuu's expression changed as she focused on giving him an earnest proposal. “Are there any suitable young noblemen among the Four Houses, though? At least for ones that come to mind now, there's only Aotsugu from the East and Kiei from the North, but……”

“Both of them must already have legal wives, and there's no way I'm sending Lady Masuho away as a concubine.”

“Then we are left with no option but to extend our criteria to branch families. That said, that comes with a problem—finding someone with a high enough status to fit in with the Western House.”

Both of them groaned as they wondered what to do. Sumio, who had been listening to the conversation in silence until then, cleared his throat lightly.

“Sumio, what's wrong?”

“Do you have any good ideas, perhaps?”

They both turned towards him with the same exact expression on their faces. Sumio smiled wryly. 

“...... I don't know if it's a good idea, but—I do have a suggestion.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Green rain fell ruthlessly all over the Unbending Reed Monastery's roof tiles, but the rain drops dripping unceasingly from the building’s eaves were clear and its interior remained isolated from the grey world outside the walls.

“Sorry, Yukiya, you shouldn’t have to help me like this,” Shigemaru said with a frown, his big body hunched over. Yukiya, however, laughed lightly in response.

“It's fine. We’ll take care of this in just a minute.”

Due to the rain and at the Instructors’ convenience, the day's practical courses had been replaced instead by theory and, while Yukiya himself had finished the assignment quickly, he had chosen to stay to patiently explain everything to his best friend, who was as compassionate as he was bad at theory subjects. 

To become part of the organization in charge of the protection of Yamauchi's rulers—the Yamauchi Guard—you had to first enter its training facility, the Unbending Reed Monastery. It required the recommendation of someone influential and enduring three long years of training, so it was a grueling process and dropouts were a matter of daily life.

They had to learn not only arts like swordsmanship or archery, but other practical skills like horsemanship—where they learned how to ride horses and how to fly themselves—and theoretical subjects like Etiquette and Law as well. This methodology was known as the Six Arts, Four Techniques and Two Studies.

They had plenty to learn about theory during their first year at the Monastery, but their studies were much more focused on the practical from the second year onwards. In other words, the evening was essentially a break for the trainees, at least once they were finished with their mostly meaningless assignment, and had in consequence mostly gone on their merry ways to relax as they pleased.

Class was almost over by the time Yukiya and Shigemaru had managed to clean up the latter's assignment barely enough to be above reproach. They had just stood up, planning to get a snack from the kitchen, when someone else interrupted them.

“Hey, Yukiya! I've heard you have gotten quite popular lately, right?” One of their fellow trainees called out to them.

Yukiya turned towards him. “Wait, popular? What do you mean?”

“Oh, don't play innocent!”

“We heard about it, you know? That you've been getting love letters nonstop ever since the Boys’ Festival happened.”

“They must be from the girls working at Cherry Blossom Palace, aren't they?”

The group of boys looked at Yukiya, all wearing sarcastic smiles. “Well, what can you do? An esteemed nobleman like the star shooter at the Horse Racing Ceremony isn't like the rest of us mortals.”

——So they were jealous and wanted to tease him, huh?

At least then the discussion wasn’t likely to be that serious. Realizing that, Yukiya's lips curved into a wry smile. It wasn’t him who answered their provocations, however, but Shigemaru. “He has rejected them all, though, so I don't think ‘popular' is the right word for it, really.”

Still, Shigemaru’s nonchalant explanation was met with shocked screams. “You gotta be kidding me!”

“What are you? An idiot!?”

“Why would you even waste such an opportunity!?”

“Why become the star shooter if you’re going to do that then!?”

With everyone around snapping at him, Yukiya retorted with disgust. “I didn't really become the star shooter because I wanted to, you know. There just wasn't anybody else who could take on the role, so it fell on me in the end.”

At the moment, a certain young man was reading a book at a corner of the dining hall. His shoulders twitched uncomfortably the second Yukiya spoke, but none of the boys gathering around Yukiya noticed that. Instead, they let out a collective and overdramatic sigh of aggravation. “What a waste.”

“You could have, I don't know, met them at least once?” Despite not being the actual recipients of the letters, they all acted as if it were a personal offense. It was annoying beyond belief.

“But it would be a problem if I did that and they got actually serious about me,” Yukiya hastily argued back, and the mood of the entire hall noticeably dropped.

“This bastard……”

“You piece of shit……”

“You better pay for what you just said one day! And as painfully as possible, I hope……”

Everyone cursed him, their words full of resentment. Among them, only Shigemaru glanced at Yukiya's expression with clear curiosity. “Then, what kind of girl would you actually consider dating?”

“Huh? Shige, are you curious as well?”

“Sure I am! You never talk about these things.”

Faced with his best friend's unexpected interrogation, Yukiya scratched his cheek. “Uhm, well—She must have a birth family to rely on in case something happens to me. Her social status must be similar to mine, and the marriage must be politically advantageous in some shape or form. Plus, she must be able to assess situations calmly and to promise me she won't ever drag romantic feelings into the relationship no matter what. If it were someone like that, I would at least consider it. A bit.”

As far as Yukiya was concerned, his answer was simply serious and sincere, but the looks on everyone’s faces had all simultaneously gone stiff. “That—wasn't what we meant, you know?”

“It wasn’t anything that serious! Just say you like fair skin or a big chest or something.” 

What the hell was wrong with these guys? This entire conversation was now genuinely pissing Yukiya off. “Who even cares about appearances? Everyone ages and gets wrinkles, so it doesn’t change anything? To embrace a beauty, just go to the Red Light District?”

Among an otherwise deafening silence, a low groan escaped from the lips of one of Yukiya's fellow trainees. “...... If I ever run into any girl daring to say that Yukiya is cool or something like that, I’ll just do her a favor and stop her right then and there. No matter what it takes.”

“Same here.”

“Oh, really? If my little sister said she wanted to date Yukiya, I wouldn't actually ask her to reconsider—”

“What the hell, Shige? You’re way too soft on Yukiya!”

“Aren’t you sorry for your sister? Because I sure am now!”

Everyone found themselves at a loss for words as Shigemaru gave Yukiya a somewhat troubled look. “Still, you would be marrying her, why forbid romantic feelings between each other? That’s such a lonely way to live, I feel.”

Yukiya laughed at that. He knew very well how cold-hearted he sounded, and his expression made it obvious.

“Sharing your life with someone just over some ephemeral passion won’t ever make you happy. Once the heat of love dies down, all that remains is a cold, hopeless reality.” That being the case, to not ever drag such feelings into the agreement was much more preferable. Those were Yukiya’s genuine thoughts on the matter. “Besides, politics are going to play a part in any wedding a noble like me could have. There's nothing lonely or fun about it. I don't want anything out of this hypothetical woman—and if she wanted something from me, then that would only trouble me.”

The ruckus surrounding him had been replaced with uncomfortable silence. Shigemaru, meanwhile, looked at Yukiya with pity in his eyes and murmured to him in a quiet and confidential manner, “I wonder, what kind of girl would make you actually fall in love……?”

“I don’t believe such a person will ever appear, and it's not like I want it either.”

Suddenly, a loud thump resounded across the hall. The young man reading, who had remained silent until then, had slammed the book against his desk and stood up in a rage.

“Akeru? What's wrong?”

Akeru, however, didn't pay any mind to the confused trainees questioning him.

“Chihaya!” he raised his voice with clear irritation. “The rain is but a drizzle now. Come with me, I’m going to train.”

In response to Akeru’s calling, Chihaya opened one of his eyes with clear annoyance—up until then, he had been leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. 

Those who didn’t know the finer details of how they had met often concluded that Chihaya was Akeru’s attendant or something of the sort, given he was a lowborn and he attended the Monastery thanks to the support of the Western House, Akeru’s family; but the Unbending Reed Monastery was a meritocracy. The truth was very different—a genius like Chihaya couldn’t stand to watch as Akeru fumbled due to his tendency to lag behind in practical courses and so he curtly looked after him.

While Chihaya would have usually retaliated and poked some fun at Akeru for giving him orders like that, he didn’t this time. He seemed to have an inkling of why Akeru was so upset. His expression instead stuck on resignation, Chihaya followed after Akeru as he left the dining hall without ever opening his mouth.

Although there was rain, the drops didn’t have much strength and the sun was out with no wind.

The determining factor of a horse’s speed wasn’t so much its quality but rather its rider’s skill. Akeru sat on Chihaya’s back, who had transformed into a crow, and flew as fast as he could towards the shooting range. The wind howled as it slammed against his face. Once they reached the landmark Akeru used as a guideline, he lifted his body and drew the bow—but his aim was off and the arrow failed to hit its mark.

“Dammit!”

They passed by the target and Akeru raised his voice again. “One more!” But the giant crow didn’t caw in agreement, instead aiming to head back to the ground. “No, Chihaya, wait! Where are you going!?”

Chihaya glided down and threw Akeru to the ground with a shake once they had almost reached the ground.

“Ouch! What are you doing!?”

“Now, calm down.” Chihaya returned to human form mid-air and smoothly landed right in front of Akeru, who was lying on his butt. That done, Chihaya said matter-of-factly, “Rushing it won’t get you anywhere. Or do you want to fall off a horse again?”

As childish as he knew it was, Akeru couldn’t help but to pout in answer. “But…… If I stay like this, I may not even be capable of taking the Trial of Mist……”

“And you have more than half a year left before that. That’s not why you’re panicking—it’s Yukiya, right?”

Akeru couldn’t argue against that—Chihaya was right on the mark. After all, the first candidate proposed for the role of star shooter at the Boys’ Festival hadn’t been Yukiya, but the scion of the Western House and Masuho no Susuki’s younger brother—Akeru.

It was only once Akeru proved incapable to hit the target no matter what he tried that, left with no other alternatives, the role fell on Yukiya, who originally had no intention whatsoever to participate in the event. For Akeru, it had all been beyond vexing. So much so that he hadn’t even attended the horse racing event altogether, as the idea of acting as Yukiya’s opening performer together with the other noblemen was too much for him to bear.

Yukiya’s social standing wasn’t as high as Akeru’s, but he was still directly related to the current Lord of the Northern House and hence a proper member of the high nobility. However, he had grown up among the rural nobles of North, famed by their warrior clans, and so he was leagues above Akeru at skills in arms. Akeru hadn’t paid much mind to this difference back when they had first joined the Monastery, but the more time passed, the more obvious and wider the gap became.

“There’s no point in comparing yourself to Yukiya. If I had to guess, his eyesight is just that good.” Chihaya was usually a man of few words, so why did he have to become all talkative only at times like these? Or so Akeru inwardly thought in anger. Not like that stopped Chihaya from talking. “And that’s something you’re just either born with, or not. It’s not a problem that hard work can somehow fix.”

After they advanced to their second year, Akeru had gone through a growth spurt that had thrown off his sense of balance. While the same had happened to Yukiya—in fact, he had grown a lot more than him—he had seemingly surmounted the issue with ease. This wasn’t just a matter of eyesight—Yukiya’s talent was, no matter how one looked at it, superior to Akeru’s.

Chihaya sighed at Akeru’s silence. “Don’t you sulk like that. You may be worse than Yukiya at physical skills, yes, but at the very least you still have the better personality.”

He had a serious expression on his face, which actually made it harder to tell whether he truly meant his words or it was all just a joke. Quite the sloppy consolation.

“Thank you, I guess,” Akeru replied bitterly.

Then, Chihaya frowned. “Wait a minute….. Is there something else?”

“...... Nothing in particular.” Akeru looked away in a pointless attempt to avoid Chihaya’s gaze, knowing he could be strangely perceptive. Chihaya, meanwhile, glared at him in question, seemingly unwilling to back off that easily. “—Ah, fine! But you have to keep it a secret for now, got it? The truth is that my sister has gotten some marriage proposals.”

“Oh?”

“And the main candidate as of now is—Yukiya, apparently.”

Chihaya’s eyes went wide open.

“...... Now, that’s—” His words died down there, but Akeru could feel Chihaya’s condolences clear in the air. “To have that as your brother-in-law is……”

“It’s a humiliating prospect, but that’s still fine. But you heard how cruel he was when talking about a prospective wife…”

If his sister were to actually marry Yukiya, Akeru genuinely believed that she would lead a horribly unhappy life. However, his sister wasn’t yet aware of it and the ones actually moving the proposal forwards were their families, so Akeru couldn’t even protest. Hence, he ended up essentially running away.

Chihaya crossed his arms, apparently having grasped the subtext of Akeru’s words. “So that’s why you acted like that before.”

“Childish, right?”

“I do get why, though.”

Akeru, still on the ground, held his head in despair. He hated this entire situation. “What should I do if Yukiya and my sister end up actually engaged……?”

Chihaya was watching Akeru with pity in his eyes as he groaned pathetically when someone else joined the conversation. “—Well, you have no more need to worry, it seems.”

The voice came suddenly and out of apparently nowhere. Akeru raised his head in surprise. There, under the shade of the training hall’s building, he found a familiar face.

“Sumio!” He was an alumnus of the Unbending Reed Monastery. Despite his lowborn status, he had graduated as the first of his class and entered service as His Highness Wakamiya’s bodyguard. Sumio approached them, raising his hand in greeting as Chihaya did the same with his eyes. Flustered, Akeru stood up. “Sorry for my rudeness. Uhm, still, why are you here?”

“I was searching for you, actually. As I said just a moment ago, this concerns your sister’s marriage. It was canceled.”

“Eh—?” A screech escaped Akeru’s lips. “Canceled? What the hell happened?”

Sumio scratched his head bashfully. “Well, about that. We thought that Yukiya wouldn’t go against it as long as it was an order, so the matter was first brought up to Masuho no Susuki and—she absolutely hated the idea.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Much like they had expected, letters written by the many young noblemen who had fallen in love at first sight with Masuho no Susuki arrived like a veritable storm to Cherry Blossom Palace. Everyone would ask for her to return to secular life and for being given the honor of taking her as their legal wife. 

While Masuho no Susuki herself paid none of them any mind whatsoever, a request to discuss the matter from her master, Sakura no Kimi and Wakamiya was a different matter altogether. Apparently, she had meekly listened to their talk about marriage in complete silence at first. Her behavior, however, shifted the very second Yukiya’s name came up as the prospective husband.

“You have to be kidding me! Why else would Yukiya’s name even come up here?” Masuho no Susuki asked them with her big eyes wide open, as dumbfounded as she was furious. “And here I was wondering what prompted a formal discussion! I was willing to go through with it if it was all like, a huge issue coming up among the Four Houses with my marriage as the only real way to solve it. But, no! You’re telling me it’s with Yukiya of all people! Are you messing with me!?” Masuho no Susuki screamed, boiling with anger. “This is a pointless marriage, no matter how you put it! What were you even thinking to propose it?”

Sakura no Kimi had apparently not expected such an explosive reaction, as her bold and fearless self was nowhere to be seen. She was unusually pale. “Well, but you see, Masuho no Susuki! You’re at the peak of your beauty. I can’t bring myself to keep you here sequestered at Cherry Blossom Palace, so……”

“And that’s none of your business!” Masuho no Susuki spouted with anger, very much unlike her usual self as well. “I became a nun very much willingly, thank you, and yet you’re ignoring my wishes altogether and moving this entire thing along without me!?”

She glared at Hamayuu, her red, glossy lips twisted into a grimace. This time around, Wakamiya, with a somewhat troubled look on his face, tried to appease her instead. “Please, do at least try to look at it from the bright side instead. It’s because this isn’t a matter of necessity that we didn’t plan to move things forwards any further without your approval. We just thought that maybe, if it was Yukiya, you wouldn’t be wholly against the idea…”

The second Wakamiya said that, however, Masuho no Susuki’s expression went blank. “...... What did you say?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Who suggested such an idiotic thing?” she asked in a quiet voice. It made it all the more terrifying.

Even Wakamiya, ignorant as he was of the intricacies of romantic love, seemed to have realized how bad the situation was, albeit belatedly. He immediately closed his mouth, but his eyes wandered and, for a second, pointed in Sumio's direction. Masuho no Susuki turned around violently and glared at Sumio, who had been waiting on the side in silence.

“I see. Now that I think about it, you would be the only one in a position to say such a thing.”

Resigned to his fate, Sumio nodded lightly in acknowledgement. “My apologies, I have no excuse.”

“Why?”

“Your eyes were following Yukiya around during the Boys’ Festival.”

“That’s—I mean, yes, he did an impressive job as the star shooter, but I was moved seeing him all grown up as one would a little brother, not… it most definitely wasn’t like that. So you better keep all those vulgar suspicions off your mind!”

The more Masuho no Susuki spoke, the more she got worked up. Her lips were trembling and her eyes, the deep color of amber, were glistening.

“...... I’m extremely sorry. I jumped to conclusions.”

“I’m not forgiving you. This is an insult to both Yukiya and I.” Masuho no Susuki, who had just been taking slow breaths in an attempt to calm herself down, stood up in a fury as she pointedly glared at Sumio. “I’ve thought this for a while, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer after this. I have nothing but disdain for that side of yours, don’t come close to me ever again!”

After crying out those last few words, Masuho no Susuki shed a tear and left Cherry Blossom Palace.

“Hey, wait, Masuho no Susuki!” All flustered, Hamayuu went after her. Wakamiya and Sumio were left behind in an uncomfortable silence.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“—And that’s what happened. Masuho no Susuki made Wakamiya and Sakura no Kimi promise they wouldn’t ever again push anything marriage-related on her without permission, so I don’t think there will be any more engagements coming for the time being.”

Akeru couldn’t stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief. “I see…”

His heart broke for his sister—to think that she had hated the idea to the point of crying. Still, it was a much more preferable experience than to have such an undesired marriage actually happen. His mood lifted knowing the whole talk was no more, but he found that the anguish was now replaced by resentment towards Sumio, the very source of the problem. 

“Still, why did you even think Yukiya was right for my sister? He’s a cold-hearted bastard—he said one of his conditions for a wife is to not bring love into the marriage. There’s no way he would ever be a good fit for her, right?”

While his tone came out slightly accusatory, Sumio didn’t seem at all bothered by that. Instead, he gave him a weak smile. “I know that’s what Yukiya says.”

“Then, why?”

“Well, it’s precisely because he says those things that I thought it would work out……” 

Incapable of comprehending what Sumio was trying to tell them, Akeru looked at him dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” Chihaya asked instead, and Sumio groaned in answer.

“Well, you see, if we’re talking about Yukiya’s harsh manners—in a manner of speaking, to me it feels like the logic at work is the same as Wakamiya’s when he asked Sakura no Kimi in marriage.” According to Sumio, when Wakamiya asked Hamayuu to become Sakura no Kimi, his words were tremendously cutting. “‘I’ll never be a good husband for you and it doesn’t mean I’m in love with you. Depending on politics, I may have to take on a concubine or I may have to betray you. Despite it all, you won’t be allowed to complain. If you’re still fine with it, then I’ll take you’—so he said.”

“Now that too is… quite the love confession.”

After hearing such a thing, what woman would gladly accept the terms? None, as far as Akeru was concerned. He couldn’t fathom what Princess Hamayuu was even thinking when she agreed to that.

“Well, it’s a terrible way to say it when you look at it from outside, right? But I knew the situation Wakamiya was in when he asked her that, so to me those words were just him being fully honest with her.”

Wakamiya had plenty of enemies at the Imperial Court and a change of government could happen no matter how much Wakamiya fought back and, regardless of his wishes, he could well find himself in a situation where his only real option was abandoning his wife. In fact, Wakamiya could easily be the one to die first. As a ruler, he could be in a position where calling someone special, whispering his love, was not allowed to him.

——‘Even then, would you still be my wife?’

“In those circumstances, promising her certain happiness would have been the same as deceiving her.”

‘It will be hard going, but I still want you by my side. I want you to choose me fully knowing where we stand’.

“Personally, I can place my trust much more easily on someone like that than on some irresponsible guy willing to spout sweet words he doesn’t mean. And as far as I see it, Yukiya is the same,” Sumio said quietly. “There were apparently some very difficult circumstances surrounding his birth and, on top of that, he swore his loyalty to Wakamiya. He has made his peace with not knowing what may happen to him tomorrow, but to not make a spouse unhappy means being careful like that.”

Akeru was left speechless. Meanwhile, Chihaya just watched Sumio intently with an unreadable expression.

Sumio sighed sadly. “Besides, and this is between you and I, I was there as Wakamiya and his wife thought of marrying Masuho no Susuki off without even the slightest concern for her own opinion on the matter. I wasn’t fine with that, as you may guess, so I just wanted things to at least go in a slightly better direction for her, but……”

It had, by all appearances, the opposite effect.

Still feeling conflicted after Sumio’s explanation, Akeru timidly spoke, “My sister must be of a mind to only be with someone she loves, so…… of course she would be angry at being paired with someone willing to say such horrible things, someone like Yukiya. Even if he has a proper reason for it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Sumio murmured, frowning ever so slightly with his gaze distant, lost somewhere else. “...... And yet, the look in Masuho no Susuki’s eyes when she looked at Yukiya was so intense.”

He must have been looking at her a lot, Akeru suddenly noticed. Before he could follow that line of thought, however, Sumio raised his head and gave them a bright smile, full of energy. “Anyway, I just came to tell you that. You won’t need to worry about your sister for a while.”

“You have my heartfelt gratitude.”

“But now that I’m here, I guess I may as well watch you train,” Sumio announced cheerfully.

Before Akeru could say a word, Chihaya answered, “We’ll be in your care then. Could you give him an example of what to do?”

“Sure thing. Are you fine with being the horse?” Silently, Chihaya transformed into a crow. Sumio looked at him with satisfaction and nodded. “Good. Then, let’s get going.”

Chihaya, with Sumio on his back, flew high into the sky. He took quite the long detour, putting so much distance between him and the training spot that it was almost overdoing it. Akeru found himself thinking about how they must have gotten quite far when, suddenly, the blurry shadow of a bird came into his sight. He let out a gasp.

While Akeru had seen Chihaya fly as a crow innumerable times during training, it was the first time he had seen him speed up like that. From what he was seeing, it had to be about as fast as his top speed without anyone riding him. It had to be too much—how was Sumio even going to shoot a bow while riding that fast?

The rider and mount approached Akeru by the minute, but Sumio was leaning towards Chihaya’s back so perfectly he was virtually melded into it, making it impossible to tell he was even there. Right as Akeru realized that, Sumio lifted his body from his mount, as light as a feather dancing on the wind.

In a matter of seconds, Sumio pulled out an arrow and shot it. It was so fast that Akeru couldn’t even tell how he had done so in the first place—his eyes couldn’t follow the motion. By the time he processed what had happened, Chihaya and Sumio had already flown past him like a storm, and an arrow adorned with white feathers had landed right in the middle of the target. Sumio was terrifyingly quick and precise.

“Did you get to see it properly?” Sumio asked as he and Chihaya returned and the latter relaxed his wings, but Akeru just stood there dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen.

“...... I didn’t quite get what I saw.”

Sumio jumped off from Chihaya’s back, and the latter immediately returned to human form. “No wonder. It’s the first time I managed to fly that fast when ridden.”

“Well, appearances aside, I’m part of the Yamauchi Guard, you know? It would be an embarrassment if I lost against a mere trainee,” Sumio laughed well-naturedly.

“You were even better than Yukiya. You could have well taken the role of star shooter at the horse racing ceremony instead!”

“Me? No way! I’m not a noble, remember?” Sumio retorted without hesitation and Akeru’s chest tightened as if someone had clutched his heart. “Hey, Akeru. I know Yukiya is brilliant, so I understand why you’re panicking. But some things people are just born with or without. There’s nothing more futile than to compare yourself and envy others over something like that, something you can’t hope to fix. So, don’t you think it would be better to consider what you can achieve with what you actually possess instead?”

——Most likely, the man in front of him felt the truth of those words much more acutely than Akeru ever did.

Akeru remained silent as Sumio watched over him—his eyes were so gentle. “Chihaya and I are above you as far as talent as a warrior goes, but no matter how skilled we are, when it comes down to politics, we have no footing whatsoever to stand against the men at the Imperial Court.”

“That’s……”

“You know what I mean, right? We don’t have the status.”

In politics, Akeru was acknowledged just by virtue of his birth. But being told so just made him feel like Sumio was mocking him. “But that’s—!”

“You were born as a noble here in Yamauchi and it’s fine for you to use that as your weapon. We have our bodies and you have your status, what’s the big difference? The problem here is what you use that weapon for, don’t you think?”

It felt like Sumio’s keen eyes were piercing him. Akeru, still unconvinced by his arguments, refused to answer.

“I think that it would be a waste for you to get greedy and attempt to do too much at once, coming out the other side achieving everything by halves and mentally crushed. You have the high status and the bright mind, plus a virtuous character to not let that go to your head. What you lack may look desirable, but you realize no amount of complaining will change that, right?” Chihaya clapped his hands wordlessly. His look was the one of someone who had been wanting to say that all along. “Akeru, you may not be able to become a good bodyguard, but you can become a good vassal. Are you really unhappy with that?”

It was as if Sumio was testing him. His question made Akeru feel like crying.

“...... No.”

“That’s good then.”

And yet—and yet! Akeru bit his lips. “Still, it’s so frustrating!”

“—It is, right? Frustrating,” Sumio repeated the word as he sighed, his tone giving him away.

Afterwards, once Akeru ran to retrieve the training saddle and Sumio was watching him go, Chihaya approached him without a sound. “Are you truly fine with this?”

Sumio turned around with a start. Faced with Chihaya’s silent stare, a forced smile appeared on his lips—the boy had seen through him, it seemed.

“...... It’s not like I can do anything about it.” It was the one thing he couldn’t help or change. No matter what he did. “She may hate me and give me the cold shoulder, but I at least thought it would be fine for me to wish her a bit of happiness.”

Ah, and yet—it was so frustrating.

As he spoke, Sumio slowly shot an arrow. An impressive shot that landed right in the middle of the target, as if it had sucked it in.

—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---

1: The original title is しのぶひと, in hiragana, which I'm interpreting by pure logic as 偲ぶ人. The main meaning of the verb 偲ぶ is to recall, which is what you may find in japanese-to-english dictionaries, but it has more than one meaning. The second, which I consider the intended here, is "心引かれて、思いをめぐらす。慕わしく思う" or "To muse of a heart stolen. To yearn."

2: The Boys’ Festival (端午の節句) or Boys’ Day celebration, also known as the Feast of Flags, takes place every May 5th in Japan. Within the story of Yatagarasu, it’s noteworthy for its second day being when Wakamiya, Yukiya and Kazumi go to spy on Cherry Blossom Palace and Yukiya is thrown down the cliff, being seen transforming by Asebi and the others. Wakamiya was, in fact, supposed to visit that day bringing the offerings.

3: Medicine Hunting (薬狩) was an actual component of the Boys’ Festival in ancient times, although it’s now lost to time. They would indeed get deers’ antlers, mugwort, irises and similar medicinal materials. The scent bags were also a historical element of the festivities, being made with the gathered materials with the idea of helping with keeping people healthy during the following rainy season. These scent bags would stay until September 9th, the Chrysanthemum Festival.

4: The term refers explicitly to Shinto rituals, but Yamauchi has no concept of Shinto.

5: The nine-colored deer (九色の鹿) has its roots as a sacred beast in a buddhist jakata tale, but it’s also known to appear in the Konjaku Monogatarishū (今昔物語集), a recopilation of japanese folktales written during the 12th century and other ancient tales. Much like the name implies, its fur is supposed to be of nine colors.

6: Sumio here is quoting the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. The specific excerpt (which has since become a saying in Japan) originally referenced Lü Meng, a general who came to serve under Sun Quan, during his youth. It’s essentially used to express that you must never underestimate how fast a young man can grow, both literally and metaphorically. “Outer book” here means any book coming from Outside of Yamauchi.

[aventurineswife]

"The Wanderer"

She had no name anymore.

Long ago, she’d discarded it, along with her need for time, for home, for purpose. She had only the Road now. Not a road of stone or steel, but one carved between stars, planets, and forgotten places, woven from the threads of curiosity and loneliness. She walked it with boots worn from countless worlds, and eyes that remembered too much.

---

I. The Planet Where Storms Never Slept

Her arrival was heralded not by sound but by pressure—an unbearable weight in the air, thick with static and the scent of ozone. The sky boiled with thunderclouds the color of iron and bruises. Lightning split the heavens in endless tantrums. Rain fell sideways, upwards, downwards, hurled by wind that screamed like a wounded god.

The locals—if they could be called that—had long fled or drowned. The ruins of their shelters jutted from the mud like broken teeth. In one submerged cathedral, she found glass windows still intact, depicting a sun no longer visible, its memory now mocked by the endless storm.

She raised her hand to the sky. Lightning arced toward her fingers but didn’t strike—only lingered, curious. She whispered a word in a language only the storm remembered, and it quieted, for a heartbeat. Just long enough for her to move on.

---

II. The World of Inverted Gravity

It was a disorienting transition.

She stepped forward and fell—upward. Her coat flared around her as she plummeted into the sky, which was not sky at all, but a shattered plain of stone and crystal hanging like islands suspended by unseen tethers.

The rules were reversed here. Oceans floated above deserts. Trees grew down from the undersides of cliffs. Birds crawled, while insects flew in straight lines like arrows.

She learned to walk upside-down by feel, navigating this strange geometry with her boots magnetized to inverted ground. In a floating monastery upside-down from a mountain spire, she found scrolls suspended in midair, rotating slowly. They told of an ancient race who tried to reach the gods by defying the pull of gravity, who inverted their world so they would fall into the heavens.

She climbed to the highest point—what would have been the deepest canyon—and leapt. For a moment, she soared, neither up nor down. Then she vanished between the cracks of a reality turned inside-out.

---

III. The City of Phantoms

It was twilight here, always twilight. A dusky half-light filtered through high towers wrapped in ivy that never grew. The streets shimmered—not with light, but with presence. Figures drifted through the boulevards, translucent, repeating their lives in silence.

She passed through a market where no goods were traded, only memories. A woman sold dreams from a stall of smoke. A child chased a kite that would never land. A man wept by a fountain that had never held water.

No one saw her.

Or perhaps they did—and chose not to remember.

In the great hall of the city’s heart, a throne sat empty. She touched it, and the phantoms turned, all at once, to look at her. No faces, no voices—only the weight of recognition. She backed away.

The air was heavy with sorrow. Not grief. Something older. The kind of sorrow that forgets its cause, but not its shape.

She walked on, never once turning back.

---

IV. The Dead City

This place had once been alive.

The bones of its architecture whispered of joy and ambition. Streets were paved with veins of silver. Towers curved like blooming flowers. Statues still stood mid-motion, as if frozen in surprise.

But no footsteps echoed but hers.

Shadows lingered here longer than they should. Her breath misted in the warmth, though the air was still. She walked through abandoned markets, a palace that overlooked a cracked dome, and gardens where the flowers had petrified instead of withered.

In a library beneath the city, she found recordings left by a voice too beautiful to be human. The last of a species who had devoured themselves on meaning, trying to define eternity, only to be unmade by their own metaphors.

When she left, she touched one of the statues gently. It crumbled to dust.

The wind, for the first time in ages, sighed through the empty streets.

---

V. The Shattered Planet

There was no atmosphere—only silence and ruin.

The planet had been broken. Whether by war, celestial accident, or divine cruelty, she never learned. The fragments hung in slow orbit around a molten core, drifting like forgotten memories across the void.

She walked from shard to shard in a suit woven from entropy and will. Bridges of light connected the pieces for her—barely. On one floating continent, she found an orchard suspended in vacuum, its trees turned to black glass, their fruit still clinging as if waiting for someone to come home.

She passed a house that had been split in two. The dinner table was still set. Chairs drifted lazily in null-gravity. The cups hadn’t spilled; the moment had simply ended.

In the core's glow, she looked down and saw writing scorched into a metal floorplate: “We thought we were unbreakable.”

She walked until there were no more pieces left to stand on.

Then she stepped off, into the next world.

---

VI. Walking the Disk of the Black Hole

The singularity was behind her—hidden, ravenous.

She walked along the glowing edge of its accretion disk, where matter danced its last before disappearing. Light here was old, bent, twisted into spirals of gold and violet. Every atom near her path screamed silently as it was torn from existence.

But she was immune to it now. Time stretched. Gravity blurred. She moved with purpose, boots leaving no trace upon the burning plasma.

She met a creature made of light and gravity, curled like a question around the event horizon. It regarded her with a thousand eyes and asked a question without words. She answered by sitting beside it, watching the galaxy curve around them like spilled paint on dark glass.

They said nothing more. At the edge of reality, silence was the only language that mattered.

---

VII. The End of the Universe

Here, all things faded.

There was no up or down, no warmth or cold, no sound except the faint echo of particles unraveling. Colors no longer had names—only impressions, like the memory of dreams just before waking.

The stars had gone dark.

She stood at the precipice of what remained, staring into the final blackness. It wasn’t terrifying. It was peaceful. A silence not of death, but of completeness. The universe had said all it needed to say.

She walked to the edge of an event horizon that no longer pulled, where even gravity had given up, and she sat.

There, in the last light, she opened a book she’d written in pieces on every world she'd passed through.

She read of the planet where it stormed without rest, where thunder mourned and lightning remembered.

Of the world turned upside down, where gravity ran wild and ancient monks left their secrets floating between inverted cliffs.

Of the city filled only with phantoms, where forgotten souls repeated lives no one would ever remember.

Of the dead city of statues and silent archives, where meaning became its own destruction.

Of the shattered planet—splintered beyond recovery—yet still holding the last rituals of a family meal in orbit.

Of the black hole’s rim, where she walked with a creature of collapsing light and stared into a silence too vast for fear.

And finally, of this place—where even time knelt and let go.

She read softly, as if to a child. Words of storm and silence, of falling skies and broken homes. Of memory. Of awe. Of herself.

When the last word left her lips, the darkness stirred—not to consume, but to listen.

And the wanderer smiled.

Because even at the end of everything, someone was still listening

Decided to take a break from Elke's and Herta's little journey and revist something older. I wasn't in a good place when I did this, but it was still a way to vent. I touched it up a bit, made it more about a journey rather than someone's mental state while still keeping the message behind each event that the character faced. The very end is something I added recently, because I did find someone who was willing to listen to me. She's a very important person in my life now. I'd love to see what you think of each stop the wanderer made! And don't worry (if you're worried), I'm doing much better now.

Thank you for sharing this. It reads like a quiet exhale—a long, reflective breath drawn across time, space, and memory. It’s not loud or desperate in the way some stories are when they want to be heard. It knows it’ll be heard, eventually. That’s powerful in its own way.

Each of the Wanderer’s stops has its own emotional gravity, so I’ll share a few thoughts on each one:

I. The Planet Where Storms Never Slept

There’s a sharp beauty in the violence of that storm. The image of the storm responding to her—not attacking, but pausing—gives this first step a kind of reverence. It’s like she’s not fighting nature, just passing through, known to it. The stained glass in the drowned cathedral hit me especially hard—a dead sun worshipped still.

II. The World of Inverted Gravity

This one feels like a metaphor turned spatial. Everything is familiar and wrong at the same time, like trying to think clearly through grief. That leap at the end—not falling or flying—lands hard emotionally. Like chasing freedom even if you’re not sure what direction it leads.

III. The City of Phantoms

This one was probably the most emotionally dense for me. The memories-for-sale, the people looping lives already ended—it speaks to the fear of being forgotten and the exhaustion of holding on too long. The empty throne and the weight of recognition was chilling in a subtle way. Sorrow that forgets its cause, but not its shape... that’s a line that lingers.

IV. The Dead City

This one feels closest to disillusionment. Not despair, but the moment after it—when the silence is louder than grief. The statues frozen mid-motion, the library of metaphors gone too far… it feels like a warning, almost. About chasing meaning until it devours you.

V. The Shattered Planet

There’s something deeply haunting in how preserved the destruction is. Like the moment of ruin is caught in amber. The dinner table set, the fruit still clinging—it’s all waiting for someone who can’t come back. This stop really got to me, not because of drama, but because of stillness.

VI. Walking the Disk of the Black Hole

This section shifts the tone in a quiet way. It’s cosmic, obviously, but there’s also peace in it. Walking beside a creature made of light and gravity—not fighting, not explaining, just being. That silence is intimate, not void.

VII. The End of the Universe

It’s rare to see the end portrayed as gentle. Not tragic. Just... complete. The idea of reading aloud at the edge of everything, and someone—even the universe itself—listening, is honestly beautiful. It doesn’t beg to be remembered. It just is. That’s enough.

The touch-up you added at the end—where she reads the book aloud, and someone listens—that’s where everything comes together. Not for closure, but for connection. You didn’t erase the emotional core from when you wrote this originally, but you shaped it into something with presence and patience.

It doesn’t scream for help. It remembers what that felt like, but it chooses to keep walking anyway.

And yeah—it’s good to know you’re in a better place now. You can feel that shift in the last section. Like the Wanderer may still be alone, but she’s not unseen anymore. That makes all the difference.

Sorry if I didn't post this response earlier, I haven't been feeling well and been dying from the heat. Can't believe tomorrow is my bday smh

[travelingare]

📍Hozoviotissa Monastery,Amorgos Island,Greece 🇬🇷

TOO OLD TOO BEAUTIFUL

The Monastery of Hozoviotissa in Amorgos is the second oldest in Greece built in 1017 and renovated 1088, built by Alexius Comnenus I. It is literally hanging on the cliff side 300 m above the sea.

The monastery was created as an ode (poem) to the Grace of Panagia, known as the Virgin Mary, which is the patron saint of the island. The icon is carried around to all the villages on the island every year.

A perfect blend of nature and the beauty of man’s creation, the monastery symbolizes man’s tribute to the Holy Mother. Built into the face of a cliff, it provides a breathtaking view of the sparkling blue waters of the Aegean Sea. It is with no doubt, the pride of Amorgos, with its pristine walls lined with portraits of monks and other leaders, the smell of incense and numerous little treasures. The monks, who act as guardians of this architectural marvel, serving psimeni raki (a local liqueur) and loukoumi.

The current outer look of the monastery is the result of various changes that happened through time. The building is 40m high and 5m width has 8 stories that develop in a larger width utilizing functional

in a larger width utilizing functional wall recesses of rock. There is a labyrinth interior with the church, the cells and the various auxiliary rooms forming a set that with resourcefulness and usability meets the needs of the monastic brotherhood.

Video by @tob28w

#wu_greece_amorgos

#travel #travelingare

Καλημέρα όμορφη Ελλάδα μου🇬🇷

#travel #travelphotography #travelingare #dronephotography #hozoviotissa #monastery #amorgos #greece

[elinerlina2]

St. George Monastery 🌍

This monastery hangs in the cliffs of Wadi Qelt, a valley in the West Bank.

It was built in 480 AD and was destroyed by the Persians in 614 AD.

In 1878, a Greek monk settled here and restored the monastery.

It's now active and inhabited by Eastern Orthodox monks.

[korpuskat]

Operational Temperature

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: PG WC: 883 Warnings: None

His hand is cold, the surface almost freezing even through your gloves. Inside his heaters are warmed, pumping hot air through his chassis. As cold as he still is to touch, you can’t imagine how much worse it would be with them off.

Because neither the heat- nor the ill-fitting coat you insisted he take- is for his benefit. He’d mentioned it once, offhandedly, talking about his plans for his troops. The operational temperature range for military-grade electronics puts even Nepali winters to shame.

You, however, struggle with the icy stones, the bracing winds, and the sharp cliff faces that threaten every twist of the path up the mountain. But Ramattra does not let go of your hand, guiding you slowly, step by step. His legs are much longer than yours, and he’s still familiar with the well-worn trek, yet he waits and keeps pace with you. When you nearly slip, he catches you- which makes you jolt from the achingly cold metal- but he keeps you upright until you find your balance, and soothes you with a murmured, “Not much further.”

Far beyond the actual walls, you move further up the mountain, until the lights below become fuzzy glowing orbs instead of signs of shops or temple lights.

He stops and looks around at a particular flat area. There’s nothing here but snow and a large stone wall, intricately carved with geometric patterns, surrounding a relief of Aurora herself. You want to touch it, to feel the shape of her- and Ramattra sweeps his hand across the snow piling in front of the wall.

You laugh softly in surprise. Beneath the white snow is a bench, completely hidden. It seems no one else has been up here in some time. At least not since it got this cold. Ramattra wastes no time in cleaning it up, making space to sit- and then adjusting the parka to cover as much of himself as he can.

You sit beside him, leaning casually against him- and “Oh,” Because his chest is actually warm, despite how his extremities have struggled to keep their temperatures up. It must be intentional, because he ushers you to sit in his lap, pressing as much of your back up against his chest as he can. His legs are not nearly as warm, but the coat and your own snow gear minimizes the cold shock of his plating.

You sigh and lean back against him, let your head hang back on his shoulder. All you can think about is the incredible heat that radiates through to you. “How are you so warm?”

“I’m scanning my own system files,” He replies, and presses his faceplate against your jacket. His head is somewhat warm too, the processors running there. “I could count infinitely until we descend, but I found this to be more engaging.”

Kissing him would still probably freeze your lips to him, so you don’t. Instead you cover his hand with your gloved one, despite the cold, and squeeze softly. “Thank you. It feels nice.”

And finally- you can relax enough to look up. Up into the black void of space above. Here, the view is nothing like you had expected. Even just down on the mountain, the lights all around had obscured so much of the beauty- dots and specks of light like a stray splattering of paint in every direction. Whirls of color, a white-cream like clouds themselves, tinged with orange and green, a darker rift right through the center. This is why he brought you here.

“I spent much time up here.” His synth buzzes against your shoulder as he speaks.

“It’s beautiful,” You reply, “And quiet.” This far from the town outside the monastery, there’s no noise from the cars, the mines- no footsteps, no gentle hums of monks in contemplation. The only noise aside from Ramattra’s own internals and your breathing is the wind.

“Yes,” Ramattra agrees. “I had thought the surface above the omnium would suit me much the same, but it isn’t the same, is it?”

“It’s warmer here.” That isn’t even a joke; you’d never venture to the surface even with your own personal heater. Ramattra makes a noise that you’ve come to understand is his approximation of a scoff. “Besides, you have history here. Even if you don’t agree with everything, this place- Shambali- is important to you. Makes sense you’d like it up here more than the lifeless Antarctic interior.”

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t respond for a while, simply curls his arms tighter around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. It’s comfortable, despite the cold nipping at your toes. Your eyes wander the sky, tracing constellations and sparkling white stars you’ve never known before.

“I was here when I decided I’d had enough,” It’s so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the wind.

You squeeze his hand again. You don’t clarify, because you mean any of it, all of it. Even if it was just having to leave his favorite stargazing spot: “Do you regret it?”

“No,” Sharp. Immediate. No hesitation. Exactly what you’d expected, despite the contemplation he’d had before. But he also presses his faceplate to you again, nudges at your shoulder through your jacket. “I would not have met you if I had stayed.”

[cyclades-islands]

The Monastery of Hozoviotissa in 📍Amorgos island (Αμοργός) - @cyclades-islands is the second oldest in Greece, built in 1017. It is literally hanging on the cliff side 300 m above the sea.

Pic by: https://www.instagram.com/p/CwGKWOIMBmk/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #7: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our map: The Isle

[You can use the link's above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle. On the map, you are currently at B.]

Now, back to the adventure!

The dead monk's medallion hangs heavy around your neck as you pick yourself off and leave this place. If there was silver to be found in those ruins to the north and peace may be difficult to procure with the monks (based on this last interaction anyway), you figure it best to explore what else of interest my lie outside the monastery's walls.

To the north, there was a large graveyard, butting up against the sea. You head there. Grave robbing has never been your preferred style of theft, but you aren't above it. If these monks are godly men than it will do them no harm either way. Their souls are safe in their lord's heavenly domain, after all.

It takes an hour or so to reach the graves [1 on the map]. You pass over the collapsed building once more and, keeping your eyes peeled, don't see any other monks out and about. To the south, the flame still burns atop the monastery's tower.

"Low pilings of rock--the traditional drystone cairns of the mainland. There are seven, currently. The graves are neither named nor marked." The seventh shows some sign of being more recently dug than the others, albeit still a considerable time--many months at least.

The sea crashes against the cliff face over the edge and far below. The graves cast almost no shadows in the high, midday sun. To the west, you can see an ancient auld tree, warped by the wind [2, on the map] but with little else nearby. To the west, the 30 some foot high formation of stone stands in stark contrast with the oceanic horizon beyond [3, on the map]. It looks climbable, if you are careful. The birds certainly seem to perch their regularly.

[A short little transition entry this week. Lots of options still, and we haven't even hit the monastery itself (where the vast majority of the adventure lies)! If I find the time, I may do a midweek update as well to help us make a bit more progress. Thanks, as always, for reading and voting! - Christian]

[sharransepulchre]

[ ☽◯☾ . previously plotted starter ] - @relentlessgrief

The Sword Coast was a big place. Bigger still, if one traveled often without the use of carriages, and didn't know how to defend against random attacks targeting coaches and the like. Even on horseback, it would take many days and many nights to travel between bustling coastal cities and sleepy little towns. The Trade Way stretches most of this trek, connecting all major coastal cities through a path prone to bandit attacks, cult sacrifices and even the occasional dragon fly-by. It was random what one would run into when walking this long, winding path, laid in messy cobble in some places, while it was bare and worn grass in others.

One such person who walked this path was Shadowheart. Shadowheart, who left Baldur's Gate months ago in search for an answer, for a calling. After the conclusion of what Volothamp probably referred to as 'The End of the Gate...?', Shadowheart and her companions had all gone their separate ways. Each of them had a path they needed to take, whether it was in this plane or the next. Having recently been uprooted of her religion, of everything she ever knew, it was high time that she finally discover herself again. If you were generous, you could say she spent a quarter of her life in the Sharran temple - perhaps not even that. Forty years for a human or similar form would have been detrimental. But her elvish blood prevented her from aging as such, and she knew there was a whole world to explore.

More importantly, temples. Temples of all sorts. But the temples she wanted to see were those erected in the name of Selûne. The goddess she used to hiss Moon Witch so disdainfully towards, and still caught herself saying. Shadowheart wasn't a Selûnite, not really - because she was on a path of rediscovery. Years upon years of indoctrination kept her from following the goddess of the moon, and she reverted back to Sharran worship practices too many times. She needed to get over this. So off she went, exploring the coast, visiting different temples dedicated to said Goddess - but only the abandoned ones. Her first stop at a populated temple had been a memorable one, certainly. Calling the Selûnites Moon Witches, wearing a permanent expression that was far too similar to if she had smelled something rancid. Scarred nose crinkled up, lips drawn back - and she didn't even realize she was doing it. The trip had only crested when the Sharran assassins attacked her next.

Needless to say, her luck in exploring and learning in still flourishing temples was slim to nil. Instead, she began to visit those that time and nature had begun to reclaim - left in disrepair, but wrought with knowledge.

That's how Shadowheart found her way to a temple some clicks outside of Neverwinter, in a more mountainous region. An abandoned monastery built into the cliff side; tarnished statue of the Moon Goddess standing tall outside. Her steps carried her in - but she stopped dead at the door.

For just within, she peered a figure. Towering, it's back to her, and her palm shifted to the mace hanging off of her belt warily. She kept her eyes focused on them, unsure of who or what they were, and was already itching with the divine magic flowing through her hands. Prepared to cast.

❝ a little strange to be lurking in an abandoned temple , isn ' t it ? ❞

[faronnorth]

my dream last night had ✨everything✨

my old crush from college, my younger siblings, a priest i used to know who pulled me up from where i was hanging on a cliff, a mall, the wicked movie, age of ultron, glen powell, my dog my cat and my mom getting a new puppy, maze like monasteries, and our old 9 seater yukon xl

[theblackbookofarkera]

Bon Tai Shin

Defying both gravity and conventional wisdom, Bon Tai Shin clings to the sheer face of Dzhun Mountain like a jeweled spider's web caught in morning frost. The monastery's very existence seems to mock the limitations of human engineering, its graceful spires and terraced gardens emerging from near-vertical cliff faces at altitudes where the air grows thin and clouds weave between its buildings.

Dzhun Mountain itself towers above all others in the region, its peak perpetually shrouded in swirling mists that local Platara monks say contain fragments of ancient wisdom. The mountain's face presents a nearly vertical ascent of polished rock, making the monastery's construction all the more bewildering. Traditional climbing routes are almost nonexistent, yet somehow the builders managed to erect a sprawling complex that appears to have grown organically from the mountain's flesh.

The monastery's primary structures are anchored to the cliff face by massive steel and stone supports that disappear deep into the mountain's heart. These foundations, according to monastery records, were laid by master craftsmen who worked suspended by ropes for months at a time, many giving their lives to complete the impossible task. Yet engineering alone cannot explain how the entire complex maintains its precarious position - some scholars suggest that the builders employed forgotten architectural sorceries to achieve what conventional methods could not.

Bon Tai Shin is arranged in ascending tiers, each level connected by a network of covered bridges that span seemingly impossible distances. These bridges, constructed from local timber and reinforced with steel, sway gently in the mountain winds but have weathered centuries of storms without failure. During winter months, when the winds howl with particular ferocity, the entire monastery seems to dance in the air, yet never has a single major structure failed.

The monastery's design incorporates numerous meditation halls that project outward from the cliff face on crystalline platforms, allowing monks to contemplate the void while suspended thousands of feet above the valley floor. These chambers are said to induce unique states of consciousness, as if the combination of altitude, isolation, and precipitous positioning creates perfect conditions for experiencing Platara's teachings about cosmic indifference and human exceptionalism.

Perhaps most remarkable are the monastery's hanging gardens, where plants from across Arkera grow in terraced beds that seem to defy gravity. The monks maintain these gardens using an intricate system of waterways that cascade from level to level, the flow carefully regulated to prevent erosion while ensuring each plant receives precisely what it needs. These gardens not only provide food for the monastery's inhabitants but serve as living demonstrations of humanity's ability to create life and beauty in the most inhospitable conditions.

Access to Bon Tai Shin is limited to a single narrow stairway carved into the mountain's face, its steps worn smooth by centuries of use. The journey up these stairs is considered a meditation in itself, with many pilgrims taking several days to complete the ascent. Some sections of the stairway are so steep that chains have been embedded in the rock to assist climbers, while other portions tunnel directly through the mountain's heart.

The monastery's highest level, known as the Crown of Understanding, sits above the cloud line and offers an unobstructed view of the stars. Here, Platara scholars conduct their most profound contemplations, studying the cosmic void while surrounded by one of humanity's greatest achievements. The contrast between the infinite darkness above and the brilliant testament to human will below perfectly embodies Platara's central teaching - that humanity alone brings light to an indifferent universe.

To this day, architects and engineers debate how Bon Tai Shin was constructed. While the monastery's archives contain detailed records of its building, many of the techniques described seem to defy physical laws. Some suggest that the massive project's success relied not just on engineering and possible sorcery, but on the sheer force of human will - a physical manifestation of Platara's belief in humanity's exceptional nature.

The monastery continues to serve as both a center of Plataran learning and a testament to human potential. Its very existence challenges those who witness it to question the limitations they place on themselves, suggesting that perhaps the greatest obstacle to achieving the impossible is the belief that it cannot be done.

[nancyfmccarthy]

Monastery of Hozoviotissa

The monastery, built in 1019, hangs from the cliff, 900 feet above the sea. It is dedicated to the Virgin Mother, the patron saint of the island of Amorgos. The views of the Aegean are spectacular.

The monastery is still active. As a place of worship they require visiting men to wear long pants and women to wear long skirts and covered shoulders. But, if you arrive under-dressed, they’ll lend you what you need. I didn’t have a long skirt and hoped long pants would suffice. But no, I needed to add a skirt. It’s a good look!

The monks make Amorgian Psimeni Raki, liquor flavored with honey and local herbs. They welcome every guest with a taste of raki and a loukoumi, a jellied candy also made at the monastery.

[barovianbitches]

The Wild Wood's Call

Her bow was drawn, the muscles of her shoulders, chest, and arms taught as her keen eyes honed in on the large hare that she had been tracking for a while now. The weather was dark and gray like any springtime on the Sword Coast, but the heavy rainfall had made it difficult for her to track prey much anymore. Tracks were lost to puddles, leaving her frustrated and hungry. She took a deep breath in, her fingers loosening on the string. It was the perfect shot; come on-

“Kida!” A voice called from the bushes, accompanied by heavy footsteps and the rustling of branches. The hare was startled, launching off of its back legs as the arrow stuck into the muddy ground behind it. A cold wind nipped at her cheeks as she startled, halfway jumping out of her skin as she turned to see just where the hell the sound of a giant thundered from. 

“Erevan!” She snapped back, throwing her hands in the air as she shot a stony glare at her brother. Kida didn’t say another word, huffing loudly and turning as she shoved through the underbrush to collect her arrow. Stooping down, Kida yanked it from the ground, flicking the mud off of it and inspecting its integrity before stowing it back into her quiver. “There goes dinner, nice one.”

Erevan’s face fell a bit at his sister’s temper. He never liked it when she got like this, bitey and ever so slightly aggressive with her remarks when she was frustrated or tired. He shrugged helplessly, pointing back in the direction that they had made camp in for the past several days. “While I appreciate the thought, sister, I came to tell you I caught several large bass from the river nearby, dinner is ready.” 

Kida gritted her teeth, sighing a bit as her shoulders slumped in defeat. She took just a moment to breathe, trying to get her bearings together instead of snapping at him again. Erevan didn’t deserve it, he didn’t know that she had gone out practicing with her bow. After all, she did leave without telling him where she was going and why, but she was seventeen damn years old! She wasn’t ten, needing her big older brother to tag along to make sure she didn’t scrape her knee on a particularly tough tumble. After a bit, she shook her head, wrinkling her nose and closing her eyes to try and remedy the ache she felt in front of her head.“Got it. Sorry. It’s just-”

“I know. I know. This whole adventure thing isn’t working out quite as you planned.” The tall Renaltian followed after her, opening his arms for a hug. He always did this. Erevan always wanted to hug it out, thinking the physical contact would solve every little problem Kida had. She shook her head stubbornly, looking away from him dejectedly and into the bushes where the hare ran. His arms fell to his sides, and he tried to hide his hurt expression. “Chin up, sister, we’re getting the hang of this! No shut-in kids from a monastery are going to be seasoned outlanders in such a short time-”

The siblings had hailed from a region high on the rocky bluffs at the very bottom of the Sword Coast’s territory from a place known as the Looking Pools of the Songseer. It was an ancient city, or so the monks said. Created from white stone found only in the deepest parts of the ocean. It was said to have been created by the great God of the Sea, Veles, son of the Goddess of life and brother to the other elemental gods. Below the cliffs were beautiful hot springs that were said to have magical healing properties, another gift from their deity. These pools were made of a similar white stone, naturally carved out by the movement of the sea over them long ago. Erevan and Kida were born into a higher-ranking Andreas family. Their mother, Safira, was a high priestess who selected and trained the warriors of the pools, known as the Tidemasters. She was a prophet and mouthpiece of the sea god, foretelling storms and other various events that would affect the monastery and the surrounding people there. Erevan had taken after her in such a way, quickly learning how to control the flow of the sea with the wave of his hands.

Kida, though, showed no such gifts as the rest of her family. Instead of blessings from a made-up god, she believed that the abilities of the Tidemasters were innate gifts given to them at birth. In fact, she didn’t believe in any presence of gods at all. How did that make sense? Divine beings, controlling every aspect of their lives and looking down upon their subjects as they were torn through by disease, famine, and war? If such beings did exist, they were cruel and did not deserve worship.

“It’s been three months! Three months in the cold wilderness, scraping together what little food we can find, narrowly avoiding being poisoned by berries, our tent being blown away in a storm, could it get much worse?” She ranted, pacing back and forth as she usually did when she was venting. A commonplace for her. It’s true what they had said, though. When Kida had originally made her plans to leave the monastery, leave all she had ever known behind, she thought it would have been not so dreadful, and at the very least not so frigidly cold as she traveled North. Erevan, having found out about her plans, insisted he would accompany her. It wasn’t that she had necessarily allowed him to go so much as he forced her to allow him to trail her.

Thank the gods that he did, though, lest his younger sister be traversing this cold and rainy hellscape alone. Erevan signed softly, reaching out and ceasing Kida’s march on whatever poor forest creatures lived in these woods before she had paced herself into her own grave.

“Three months of learning.” He soothed, gently pulling her in for a hug anyway and letting her head rest on his chest. He smelled of sandalwood and river algae, his shirt slightly damp from where he likely waded into the water up to his chest and caught the fish bare-handed. She tensed like an angered cat, beginning to snarl a vaguely rude phrase to release her. But as he began to pet her hair, Kida relaxed ever so slightly, quieting down for the moment and letting him hold her.

“Three months of nothing.” She countered, her voice barely above a woeful whisper. Kida let all of her weight rest against the pillar of marble that was her brother before finally giving in, wrapping her arms around her brother’s waist and burying her face in the soft material of his tunic. He rubbed her back in slow circles, doing his best to soothe his agitated sister and copying an old trick he had seen their mother do many times before. “Maybe mother and father were right… Maybe this was all a mistake.”

Erevan’s face contorted in confusion at this, looking down at her with his dark, storm-grey eyes. Kida refused to meet his gaze as she could feel tears welling in her eyes, instead opting to bury her face into the half-dry tunic further. She never did like crying in front of others, ever since she was a little girl. She had always felt it was too vulnerable and awkward a position to be in, even with those who were closest to her. 

“Ki, you are too hard on yourself. Listen to me, your big brother! You’ve got nothing to worry about when I’m here-” Her stint of silence was broken by a sniffle, causing her brother to pause. “Awe, Ki… Let’s get you back to the camp, unwind for the evening. You’ve been out here all day by yourself. It’s not good for you.” 

She shook her head stubbornly. “Not until I bring something back.” Good gods was she strong-willed, nearly to a fault. Erevan huffed in defeat, releasing her from his grip and lifting his hands again in defense. She was only seventeen, full of spite and more fire than Erevan had witnessed in all of his training with his peers. Kida had always been this way, much to the dismay of their parents. She never wanted to study with the other children, instead escaping through a window and into the distant forest to the east of the temple.

“Fine, fine, I relent. I expect you back so you can warm up by the fire by dark. Promise me, Kida.” The stern expression he wore on his handsome features was uncharacteristic to the Tidemaster, only coming out when he suddenly had to become an impromptu parent to his sister while their actual parents were absent due to important business in the temple. 

Kida let out a sigh of relief, giving her brother another quick hug. “I promise, Erie. Thank you.” Her overt affection was a rare occurrence indeed, as she usually resorted to violence instead of public displays of affection. Erevan sighed along with her, squeezing her back and kissing her head. “I’ll be back by dark.” She pulled back, giving him a small smile before disappearing through the wood in pursuit of the rabbit that had evaded her.

Erevan shook his head as he watched her go, the warm woolen capelet gifted to her by their grandmother disappearing into the brush. Their parents had always scolded him for enabling his sister, saying that he was encouraging her bad and rebellious behavior. He disagreed. He thought that they didn’t truly understand her yet, and she was meant for something different, not within the confines of the monastery. 

He remembered the first time he was sent to retrieve his sister from the woods. He was ten years old, Kida only seven. Somehow, despite her age and relative ability, she became a master escape artist, wiggling her way out of various places just under the noses of the other priests and monks that roamed the empty halls. 

She was supposed to be meditating at the tidepools with the other children her age, where she would forge her connection with their patron god, Veles. She refused, stating that he never spoke to her as he did to the other children. This led to a brief shouting match between her and the elder leading the meditation, her escape ensuing. As soon as their mother caught wind of this, Erevan was sent on horseback to locate his sister. He found her crouched underneath a willow tree over a mile and a half from the temple, watching a mother bear and her two cubs forage for berries and fish in the river from a distance. One of the cubs wandered away, too far for the mother bear’s liking. She quickly collected her shield, carrying her back to the river’s edge, where she was catching dinner.

“That’s mama. And that’s me.” She had pointed to the interaction, looking up to the young Erevan, who, at this point, had dismounted from the horse and walked over to see what she was doing. He was incredibly impressed at how someone so small was able to make it so far. Even he wouldn’t have been able to. 

“Is that right, Kiki?” He kneeled beside her, looking at where she pointed. “And why is that?” He rested his hand on her small shoulder. She wasn’t listening at this point, instead finding interest in what she fiddled with in her lap that she hunched over. “Kiki, what do you have?” He asked, trying to look at what she was holding. She made an angry little harumph, trying to shrug off her big brother.

“Nothing!” She whined indignantly, trying to get away from him. He wasn’t letting up, though. Their mother had specifically instructed him to bring his sister home as soon as he found her. She had already been gone all afternoon at this point, the temple turned upside in search of the small girl. Erevan would never admit that he knew where she would have gone. She was always so curious about the forest, as well as the flora and fauna that inhabited it. She had no interest in the ocean, the very thing in which their entire culture was rooted in. No, she was always drawn toward the forest. Their parents knew this, thinking it would simply be a pacing phase in their daughter, but they soon found that it was most certainly not.

“Kida, let me see! Right now!” He was agitated. Erevan himself was just a boy, mature for his age but still not quite understanding how to be gentle with his little sister. He grabbed her shoulder roughly, pushing her over against the ground in his anger. She let out a pitiful cry, a small object dropping from her hands. He immediately understood his mistake, going to comfort her. “Kiki- I’m sorry, it was an accident-” She began to cry, an intense and shrill sound that seemed to shake the trees around them. He helped her to her feet, picking up the item she dropped. It was a necklace, acorns, wooden beads, and small mossy agates strung along a woven vine twine. She couldn’t have made this herself. It was too meticulous. “Kiki- Where did you get this?” It was no use, though. She was having a full-blown tantrum, and it was growing dark. He sighed, picking up his sister and packing her onto the back of the horse. It didn’t make sense. There was not a village for miles. Had someone found her and given her the necklace? He left it in the brush, riding away back to the temple to return to their mother.

Erevan shook his head at the memory. She hadn’t changed much in ten years. She was still so strong-willed and still getting into trouble, all of which her older brother had to remedy or rescue her from so she would not incur the wrath of their parents. Though, her escapes became more planned, crafted in such a way that no one would notice until she had taken a horse and ridden miles away at that point. Every time Erevan would chase after her. Every time he brought her back. Though, three months ago, he had a change of heart. That time, he followed her.

At this point, the rabbit had been long gone, but Kida was still giving chase to the creature that had once evaded her. She never liked to lose, let alone to such a small creature. She would have already caught it if Erevan had not so rudely interrupted her hunt. No matter, she was hopeful and hot on the trail, the rabbit having left tracks in the mud that she quickly followed before they were lost to the rest of the wet ground and the possibility of rain.

Her failure to kill the rabbit drove her further into the mindset that her parents had been right. About everything. Maybe she was the one who had broken the bond with Veles and angered the ocean god, and that’s why she never gained her powers. Maybe it was truly all her fault. It usually was; being an outcast in such a place led to her becoming the scapegoat for things, only resulting in more of her direct defiance of the entire monastery. Her parents tried to reteach her their ways early, ensuring that if she apologized and repented to the god, he would forgive her and grant her the magic of the Tidemasters. But she was too far gone for them. She swore off the gods, swore off everything about the religion her parents stood for. 

Kida wiped her eyes, not realizing a stray tear had gathered on her waterline. She had to focus; otherwise, she would look like an idiot. At the very least, if she caught the hare, she would be an idiot with dinner. She moved through the forest like the whisper of a wind, blessed with light steps, unlike her brother. Not a single branch impeded her travel, and soon enough, she saw brown fur disappear under a bush. She screeched to a halt, dropping low to the ground and drawing an arrow from her quiver, the same one she had attempted to use on the rabbit earlier.

She rounded a tree trunk, quickly drawing her bow as she came around the other side, thinking the rabbit had settled there. Kida was ready to fire, when she realized nothing was there. She cursed under her breath, resuming tracking the rabbit. Where could this little nuisance have gone? The underbrush wasn’t dense by any means, the trees arching overhead a mix of spindly birch and young oak that were still naked from the wintertime and provided little canopy. Her movements were more or less covered by the torrential downfall of the rain, but so were the rabbit’s. She was moments away from giving up just as a quick movement caught the corner of her eye. Gotcha.

She leaped into action, running after the small creature as it bolted through the wood. She wasn’t going to outrun the rabbit by any means, it had proven that much. She stopped in her tracks, eyeing an oak tree that was old enough to support her weight. She didn’t have much time to assess the situation further as she scaled its branches, higher and higher, until she could see out over the barren treetops. She was just able to track it with her eyes as she quickly drew the bow again and fired. The arrow found its mark. The rabbit didn’t even know what hit him. Kida’s face lit up in delight. Yes, yes! She caught it!

She allowed herself a moment of victory, pumping her fist in the air and trying to contain her glee from the thrill of the hunt. Grinning, she threw her hands up in the air and let out a hoot of joy just as a clap of lightning struck down a tree beside her. Her joy was short-lived, jolting in fright as the tree branch underneath her snapped. She didn’t have time to think, groping for another branch as she plummeted to the ground, blacking out.

Suddenly she was back on the bluffs of her home, only a mere few months ago.

It was her seventeenth birthday. The ocean churned in anger, the dark sky overhead turning the water a hateful dark grey. The waves crashed against the smooth white stone of the tidepools, flooding them out as the sea level began to rise. Kida watched from below a tree as the storm met the seas, thunder rolling in the far-off distance. Her fingers curled into the soft grass, her knees brother to her chest where she allowed her chin to rest on them, her dark eyes watching the waves grow in height as the storm intensified. She had always enjoyed the rain, finding comfort in its repetitive tut-tut-tut tune that played over and over again like a familiar song. 

The monks predicted the storm, having seen the clouds at a distance that morning. The temple whirled with life as they made preparations for the onslaught of rain and wind that was to come. Storms never bode well for Kida’s people, as it usually meant they had done something to anger Veles. Kida didn’t care, though. He had forsaken her long ago. She chose to enjoy it in the face of danger and the supposed wrath of their patron deity. At this point, everyone was bundled up inside, candles lit in every room as they chose to wait out the storm.

The commotion had caused everyone but Erevan to forget what today was. No matter; she wasn’t a fan of birthdays anyway. In the middle of the shuffle, Erevan found time to visit Kida in her room, offering a slice of lemon cake and a small wrapped parcel. “Happy birthday.” He told her with a smile. After all, his twentieth had just passed a few weeks before. He sported his new robes of blue-grey hue, signaling his rise into the official position as a Tidemaster. 

She accepted it, quietly thanking him. “Aren’t you going to open your present?” He asked hopefully, tipping his head as if he were a bird. Kida rolled her eyes a bit before nodding and delicately unwrapping the golden twine. Within the small package was a pair of beautifully crafted earrings with pale gold hardware, dangling with preserved leaves and small brown bird feathers. They were the most beautiful things she had ever laid eyes on. Unlike the blues and silvers that adorned the walls of the monastery, she always preferred gold and green. Erevan knew her stunned silence to mean that she loved them. She rose from her bed, quickly putting them on before turning to him to give him a hug. “I hear a storm is coming. Everyone will be inside… You should go see.” He smiled, nodding towards the dark sky visible through her window. He knew she would jump at the opportunity for a moment where no one would bother her. She nodded, kissing his cheek and heading out the door.

And so here she was, watching the sea rage against the rocks far, far below. She only ever had two people in her corner, who always had accepted her as she truly was. Erevan, of course. And their paternal grandmother, lovingly nicknamed Yaya. The old woman had always understood Kida’s inner turmoil, as she had married into the monastery by way of their father’s father. Yaya had seen what it was like outside of the Pools and encouraged Kida to explore as much as she liked. “This is a small pond, my dear. You should explore the ocean before you settle.”

Yaya had requested to speak to her with the last bit of her strength. “Look for me in the sea, my love. I will be watching over you from there.” She said to Kida on her deathbed. Kida was not ready for her to go so soon. Her parents didn’t understand her ways, and Yaya had been the only one who had made Kida feel sane. “You must follow the farthest star, my dear girl. Follow the voice that sings to you.” Yaya passed just over two years ago now, leaving Kida with only Erevan by her side. 

She didn’t quite know what she had meant by that last phrase. There were many stars, which being the “farthest” not entirely clear. Which way? North, west? Kida had always chalked it up to being premortem psychosis. She loved Yaya dearly and appreciated how she had supported Kida’s dreams, but she didn’t offer much by way of guidance. 

The ocean churned below, dragging debris out into its depths. She did not yet understand her place in all of this. She knew it was not with her mother as a priestess or with her father and brother as a Tidemaster. None of it made sense to her, and it just wasn’t fair. All she ever wished for as long as she could remember was to travel far, far away from Renaltia and never look back. Her family chalked it up to adolescent angst, but Erevan recognized it as much more. He couldn’t do much, though, as it wasn’t often Kida’s expressed her emotions in a way that would be constructive and could lead to a possible solution. No, instead, she bottled them up, pressure gradually building with anger, envy, and spite before it surely would explode. 

Kida came to after a moment, deep within her own mind, as the storm continued to swirl and intensify around her. The wind howled in her ears, drowning out any other sounds besides the sea. She slowly got to her feet, dark eyes drawn to the distant, blurry horizon where the dark blue ocean met shadowy grey of the cloudy sky. Pebbles gave way at her feet, reminding her of her proximity to the edge of the bluffs. The water below was far. Would she even feel the impact? Surely not. Her mind wandered as she took another step forward, the edge of her leather sandals skating over the edge of the rocks.

“Kida!” A voice shouted to her, startling Kida from her trance. She whipped around, her eyes meeting the terrified face of Erevan. “What in the world are you doing? You’re going to-” It was difficult to hear him from this distance, over the wind and water. Her brow furrowed in confusion before his mouth fell open to a scream. She hadn’t noticed her heel teeter over the edge, the fright zipping through her body, leading her to lose balance and begin to fall backward. Kida watched as Erevan shot forward from the gates of the gardens, running to the edge where she tumbled. Time seemed to stop as she watched Erevan bolt after her in slow motion, her body floating back off the edge as her eyes turned to the storming sky. Lightning struck overhead once more, but she couldn’t hear the strike, only the column of wind rushing past her as she fell.

Erevan could only helplessly watch his sister plummet off the edge towards the rocks and the lashing sea. Kida felt both weightless and so heavy, the descent down so slow but so fast. Her heart screamed for her to move, to try to grab something, but her mind was silent, taking a vow of silence in this moment. She looked back up to Erevan, who had reached the cliff’s edge, making eye contact. He could see the vacant expression in her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t try to save herself. How could she, anyway? She had not been blessed with powers by Veles as he had. 

He had to think and fast. He dropped to his knees in the dirt, reaching his hand out, not to her, but to the water below her. The waves lapped at the air, wanting to rise to his hand, but the distance was too great. The Renaltian swallowed hard. He would not allow his sister to leave like this. Rising to his feet, he quickly removed his robes and shoes, clasping his hands together and diving after her. He would only have a few moments before she would hit the water, or worse, the rocks.

He fell after her, the siblings staring at each other as the plummeted to their deaths. Kida lost herself for that moment, but Erevan hadn’t. With his palms extended, he summoned as much strength as he could, willing the water to his command. The angry sea snarled back to him, swirling and baring the fangs of the jagged stones. Come on, come on– He wasn’t going to make it in time.

He dove to her, catching her by the waist and rolling them over in the air. Kida remained in stunned silence as he now was beneath her to break her fall, one arm firmly holding her waist as he reached to the sky with his hand. In the split seconds of all of this happening, the water finally rose to meet them, clashing against Erevan’s back, knocking the wind out of him but still cushioning the fall. They were swallowed by the wave and, with a desperate movement of Erevan’s wrist, were coughed up onto the rocky shore. Rain pelted them from above, ocean spray making it worse. Kida tumbled from his arms, coughing and gasping and looking at Erevan. He lay sprawled on the smooth surface of white stone, face down. 

“Erevan!” She cried out, scrambling to her feet on the slippery rock to go to her brother’s side. She rolled him over on his back, and after a tense moment, he sat straight up and coughed hard. She let out a sharp sigh of relief, collapsing into his lap and letting out a sob. “I’m so sorry Erevan, I wasn’t paying attention, I, I could’ve killed you–”

He continued to cough, managing a weak smile for his sister. “Ah, don’t sweat it, Ki… How am I supposed to be the Grand Tidemaster if I don’t look out for those I’m supposed to protect?” He gently pat her back, looking to the ocean that held both their people’s way of life but also possible death. She continued to cry the way only a child could. She wiped her red eyes, looking up at him before hugging his shoulders tightly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Kida whimpered, Erevan only shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have come out here at all– What if-?”

Erevan cut her off. “I told you to come look at the storm, Ki. If anything this was my fault.” He murmured, holding her close to him. “Come on. We should get back up to the temple to make sure you didn’t break anything.”

She pulled away, sniffling hard. “To make sure I didn’t break anything? Erevan– You, you almost sacrificed yourself for me! You’re the one who may be hurt!” Realizing this, she quickly stood and tried to help him up. He could only wince, just managing to get to his feet. Kida led him to the flat marble stairs that had been carved into the rockface leading up the bluff, slowly guiding her brother up.

Luckily enough, he only had a few broken ribs from the sheer impact of the water against his back. Her mother scolded her, her words laced with malice. Her father didn’t have the words, only shaking his head in disappointment. She had not only put herself and the next Tidemaster in danger due to her foolishness. “Why were you out in such a storm anyway? Why were you so close to the edge?” They had asked, to which she did not have an answer. Erevan tried to cover for her, saying it was all an accident. He was not wrong. But their parents still chalked it up to her gripes with the temple and their way of life. 

Rumors began to swirl, the washwomen and other citizens of Renaltia hearing of the near-death experience of both of the most important children in the Entire temple. They said that Veles himself tried to kill Kida. That she was a disgrace to her family, and he felt the need to strike her down in a storm, and that Erevan had intervened when he shouldn’t have. That perhaps, it would have been better if she were dead.

While her parents quickly realized their mistake of treating their daughter in such a way, it did not undo the damage that the rumors had already done. Kida found herself to be shunned by her peers, by all of those she had grown up with, even worse than before. It was her breaking point.

Kida slowly stirred, bright light shining directly into her eyes as she awoke beneath the tree she had fallen from. The storm had cleared, early spring sun bathing her in the warmth she had longed for all of these months. There was a brief moment of clarity before pain shot through her body. She sat up, wincing in pain and looking down at her swollen ankle. Well, it could have been worse. It must have been early morning now. Shit. Erevan was going to be pissed.

She took a moment to survey her surroundings. With sunlight now filtering through the canopy, the forest took on a much more warm and inviting air to it. She stood carefully, minding her wounded foot. Something clinked around her neck, something that had not been there before. She lifted her hand to her chest, feeling for what now hung there. A necklace. Made of acorns, mossy stones, and wooden beads, all things that could be found in a forest surrounding her. Confusion crossed her face, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed more and more things that were not there when she was originally here the evening before.

Kida could pick out her outline in the long grass. Surrounding it was a circle of twisted ivy and small, wild white roses. She bent down, brushing her hand over the flora that seemingly had grown overnight. “What in the world?” She whispered to herself, 

“Do you like my gift?” A soft but commanding voice called to her. Kida shot to attention. She had not heard anything approach. That just wasn’t possible. Her eyes met with that of a massive brown bear who was standing on two legs just a few feet away from her in the bushes. Kida’s eyes widened, both in fear and shock, as she scrambled backward, her foot catching on a stray root as she tumbled backward into the base of a tree.

“What are you??” Kida cried out. There was no way this bear had just spoken to her. Her eyes traced up. Oh, of course, this was no ordinary bear. The brown bear’s eyes were a gentle, glowing green. Something inherently maternal shining within them. Atop its head grew a huge rack of antlers, ten points total. They were draped in flora, similar vines, and small white rose buds. Small birds hopped from point to point, chasing each other atop the head of the bear. 

“Forgive me, I must have scared you.” The bear slowly lowered itself onto four legs, laying down in the brush until it was entirely out of view. While Kida was terrified, she was also painfully curious about the talking bear. Of course, she was used to the magic of the realm, but nothing such as this. She couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming or not. Kida pinched herself just to make sure she was, in fact, awake.

“Wait-” Kida held her hand out, not before an absolutely radiant woman stepped from the very same bushes. Kida’s mouth fell open, looking up at her slowly. She was beautiful and tall but built with strong musculature and broad shoulders. She had long, minty green hair that had been pulled back in a braid and secured with twine. She wore animal pelts across her shoulders, legs, and arms, a crown of twigs weaved together with flowers and precious stones circling her antlers.

“Be not afraid, little one. I do not wish to harm you.” At a distance, Kida knew she was tall, but as the woman emerged from the bushes, her height was much more apparent. She was well over seven feet tall, still towering over Kida even as she kneeled down on the forest floor. “I am Caija, and I have known you since you were little.”

Kida still didn’t understand. “But– But I have never seen you in my life– How do you know me?” She shook her head, trying to clear it of the delusions she was so obviously seeing materialize before her. Perhaps when she fell from that tree, she had died. Yes. That must be right. She is dead, and this is the ferryman to the afterlife. How odd.

Caija smiled kindly to her, reaching down and holding Kida’s cheek in her rough hand. She stiffened immediately at the touch. She was never one exactly for physical contact from her family, let alone a total stranger bear-woman who she had just met in the middle of the woods. “Every time you came to visit me in my forest. Every bear and butterfly, every blooming flower. I was there, watching over you.” 

Kida felt her head spinning at this new information. She didn’t believe in Veles, not for a long time. The gods, by association, weren’t real. This couldn’t be a goddess on earth. “I have never heard of you, Caija. Are you my ancestor?” Her voice quaked, scrambling for something that Kida would be able to wrap her mind around. “You… You’ve come to protect me?” She said hopefully

Caija simply chuckled before giving her a nod, soothing Kida’s nerves a bit. “You could say that, yes. If you choose to believe that I am your ancestor, then it is just so.” She pet her cheek. Kida couldn’t help but lean into it, she felt so tired, and this woman was so warm and inviting. Her voice was as soothing as a babbling brook and as warm as the summer sun on her face. “I have finally made myself known to you, as I will guide you on this path you have chosen.”

Kida’s eyes lit up. “You’ll guide me? So- I wasn’t wrong to leave Renaltia?”

Caija shook her head. “Oh no, my dear. Your decision to leave was entirely your own, and your desire for something beyond those walls was never wrong. You simply hold a different fate than what your family hopes for you.” She smiled again. “You are much like I was when I was younger. Ever ambitious, desiring more. You will grow into your desires, dear blossom.”

Kida had so many questions for the woman- Or Caija, as she called herself. So many questions that would be left unanswered.

“Kida– Kida, where are you–?” Came the frantic yet familiar voice through the brush, causing both women to look up curiously like alerted rabbits. 

“I must go. Your brother is worried sick.” Caija bowed low, butting her forehead against Kida’s. “Stay safe, my golden child. Remember, you are never alone.” She whispered. Kida’s eyes fell closed, hanging onto her every word. She could feel Caija’s hands leave her face, a whisper of wind blowing past her. When she opened her eyes, the woman was gone. All that remained was the rabbit that Kida hunted, lying peacefully within the circle of flowers.

[janatours]

Egypt Holy Land Tours

 Egypt Holy Land Tours include visits to the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Sphinx, and the ancient city of Luxor. Travelers will also experience the awe of the Valley of the Kings and enjoy a cruise down the Nile River. Additionally, the tours offer a chance to explore the vibrant culture of Cairo and the historic temples of Abu Simbel.

 11-day Christian Holy Land Tour In Egypt includes visits to significant biblical sites such as Mount Sinai, where Moses received the Ten Commandments, and the ancient city of Cairo, home to the Coptic Christian community. Travelers will also explore the historic churches of Old Cairo and embark on a journey to the Monastery of Saint Catherine, one of the oldest functioning Christian monasteries in the world.

14 Days Holy Egypt & Jordan Tour to Cairo, Nile Cruise & PetraPetra, an archaeological wonder in Jordan, is renowned for its historical significance as the capital of the Nabataean Kingdom. Carved into the rose-red sandstone cliffs, it served as a critical hub for trade routes connecting the Mediterranean with Arabia and beyond. This ancient city not only showcases incredible architectural achievements but also provides valuable insights into the cultural and economic exchanges of its time.

Egypt and Jordan Holy Land Tours Egypt and Jordan have played pivotal roles throughout history, serving as crossroads for civilizations, trade routes, and cultural exchanges. Egypt is renowned for its ancient civilization, with landmarks such as the pyramids and the Nile River, which have greatly influenced art, architecture, and religion. Jordan, on the other hand, is home to the ancient city of Petra and has been a significant site for religious pilgrimages, connecting the ancient world to the modern through its biblical history.

4-Days Christian Tour of Egypt From Taba Port offers a unique opportunity to explore Egypt's rich Christian heritage. You'll visit the Monastery of St. Catherine, one of the world's oldest working Christian monasteries, located at the foot of Mount Sinai. Additionally, the tour includes a stop at the Hanging Church in Cairo, a stunning example of early Christian architecture with a history dating back to the 3rd century AD.

10 Days Holy Family Tour In Egypt   includes visits to iconic sites such as the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx, where travelers can explore ancient wonders. Participants will also visit the historic city of Luxor, home to the Valley of the Kings and the Karnak Temple. Additionally, the tour includes a cruise along the Nile River, allowing guests to experience the beauty of Egypt's landscapes and its rich cultural heritage.

.12 Days Ultimate Egypt, Jordan, and Israel Tour Package  offers a rich tapestry of cultural experiences, allowing you to explore the ancient wonders of Egypt, such as the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx. In Jordan, you'll have the chance to visit the stunning archaeological site of Petra, while in Israel, you can walk through the historic streets of Jerusalem, soaking in the diverse heritage and history of the region. Throughout the journey, you'll also enjoy local cuisine and traditional performances that bring the vibrant cultures to life.

One of our

12 Days Ultimate Egypt, Jordan, and Israel Tour Package

Day 1 Arrival In Cairo 

Upon arrival at Cairo airport, you will find our representative waiting for you with a sign with your name after that you will be transferred to the hotel for check-in and overnight.

Day 2: Cairo Tours

Pick up from the hotel and start a full-day tour to visit the most famous Giza Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the Valley Temple, followed by a tour to the Egyptian Museum to see the famous collection of King Tutankhamun and the other collections. After that drive back to the hotel and overnight.

Day 3: West Bank tour

Pick up from the hotel early morning and transfer to Cairo airport to take the domestic flight to Luxor, arrive in Luxor and meet our guide then start a full-day tour to visit the West bank, Valley of the Kings “we will Enter 3 royal tombs” then visit the temple of Queen Hatshepsut temple at Dier El Bahari and the colossi of Memnon after that transfer to the cruise ship for the embarkation, lunch at the cruise ship, and in the evening time, pick up again to visit the famous Luxor temple after that drive back to the cruise Ship and overnight.

Day 4: Karnak temple

Pick up from the cruise ship with our guide and start a full-day tour to visit the most famous Karnak temple, the largest temple in the World. After that transfer to the cruise ship, start sailing toward Esna reach Esna and cross the famous Esna Lock, then sail again toward Edfu, reach Edfu, and overnight in Edfu.

Day 5: Edfu & Komombo 

Pick up from the cruise ship and visit the Edfu temple of God Horus after that back to the cruise ship, sail toward Kom Ombo, and reach Kom Ombo to visit the temple shared between the 2 Gods Sobek and Haroris after that transfer to the cruise ship, sail toward Aswan, reach Aswan, and overnight on the cruise ship.

Day 6: Aswan sightseeing

Pick up from the cruise ship, start a full-day tour to visit the famous Aswan High Dam, then transfer to visit the Philae temple of Goddess Isis, then visit the Unfinished Obelisk. After that transfer to the cruise ship and overnight.

Day 7: Cairo to Amman 

Pick up from the cruise ship after embarkation and transfer to Aswan airport to take the domestic flight back to Cairo, arrive at Cairo airport then take the connected flight to Amman Jordan, arrive Amman then transfer to the hotel in Amman and overnight.

Day 8: Arrive in Amman 

Pick up from the hotel by our guide and start a full-day tour to make a City Tour of Amman, which includes Amman Citadel, the Roman Theatre, Grand Husseini Mosque, and King Abdullah Mosque & Folklore Museum. Proceed to Jerash, one of the best preserved Roman outposts in the world, known as the Pompeii of the East, for its extraordinary state visit to Umm Qais, then head back to your hotel in Amman for a drop-off.

Day 9: Dead Sea 

Pick up from your hotel in Amman and depart to get some free time on the Dead Sea Shore, the public beach. Onto Mukawir for a visit then followed the road to Mount Nebo where Moses was granted a view of the Promised Land. Afterward, head to Wadi Jadid for an overview and then to Madaba where you will visit Saint George’s church and see the incredible mosaic of the Holy Land. Transfer to your hotel in Madaba for drop-off.

Day 10: Red Rose City of Petra.

Pick up from Madaba Hotel and head to the “Red-Rose” City Petra. The world’s wonder is without a doubt Jordan’s most valuable treasure and greatest tourist attraction. It is a vast, unique city, carved into the sheer rock face by the Nabataeans. The entrance to the city is through the Siq, a narrow gorge over 1km in length. After the Siq, you will be facing the Treasury, and then proceed to the Roman-style theatre. Get into your private car in and around the city of Petra to see the Bedouin lifestyle there and then see an overview of Wadi Musa, then transfer to a hotel in Petra.

 Day 11: Masada Mountain fortress,

Pick up from the hotel with our guide and start a full-day tour to visit Masada Mountain fortress, then visit Jerusalem desert and Palestinian Villages. After that transfer back to The hotel and overnight.

Day 12: the final 12 Days Ultimate Egypt, Jordan, and Israel Tour Package

Pick up from a hotel in Israel and transfer to the airport to take the International Flight back home.

The mentioned tour itinerary includes the following:

§   Private English-speaking Egyptologist tour guide.

§   Entrance fees for all the mentioned sites.

§   Transport with private A/C vans to all the mentioned sites.

§   The service of meet and assist at airports.

§   3 Nights hotel accommodation at 5 stars hotel in Cairo with B/B bases.

§   4 nights accommodation on a 5-star Nile cruise.

§   2 Nights hotel accommodation at 5 stars hotel in Amman with B/B bases.

§   2 Nights hotel with accommodation at a 5-star hotel in Tell Aviv with B/B bases.

§   Domestic flight tickets from Cairo / Luxor – Aswan / Cairo.

§   International flight ticket Cairo / Amman.

§   Service charge and tax.

The tour itinerary not include the following

§   Visa Entry to Egypt.

§   Visa entry to Jordan

§   Visa entry to Israel.

§   Optional tours

§   Any other items not mentioned.

§   Tipping Kitty.

For More Info

Egypt Holy Land:http://bit.ly/3UlATsb

website:https://jana.tours/

Email:info@janatoursegypt.com

whatsApp:+201143320224

[zmasters]

Amber Maw - a DnD Campaign

This is a sequel post to the general lore post I made earlier going over the planned plot for a dnd campaign I am working on for my friends. Of course nothing is set in stone, and you are welcomed to share ideas for me to use.

For most of history, the Underdark was a myth. Comparable to our world's tales of Atlantis, the Underdark is a fable created after the fall of the Illithid Empire, and where the mind flayers and their remaining thralls and cultists ended up.

Now after a series of mysterious earthquakes, passage ways have opened up to tunnels that snaked deeper and deeper into the Earth. Once a pale green psionic humanoid was discovered was the truth revealed.

The Underdark was real.

The players take the role of adventurers and mercenaries hired by the Duchess of the Isle of Corsci, the triton Valèria Amberfin, for a venture into the Underdark. House Amberfin are the owners of the most well mapped access to the Underdark, the Amberreef Mine. Valèria herself will lead the expedition, serving as primary financier and translator, as she is a natural telepath.

Also note that all sentient species native to the Underdark are some degree of psychic, being former thralls of the Illithid Empire who were modified by their masters to better suit roles that later rebelled.

Species native to the Underdark:

Drow (Dark Elf): purplish-gray skinned elves from the matriarchal Menzoberran Dominion. They worship the spider-god Lolth, amongst others, and style their culture after spiders and other arachnids and insects. Ruled by the drider Xuzara, many drow have been mutated into half-spider creatures. Their cities take a web-like appearance, hanging from cliff edges.

Duergar (Gray Dwarf): with ash-gray skin and white hair, these dwarves are shorter and stockier than the average dwarf. They worship the death god Laduguer, with the nation of the Theocracy of Duerra being ruled by the lich and self-described daughter of Laduguer, Duerra. Like their above ground (or higher underground) cousins, the duergar are master of the forge. Unlike their cousins, the smiths of duergar make their creations out of bone and forge them in mamga chambers deep in the Dark.

Svirfneblin (Deep Gnome): the sunken eyed gnome nation of the Lur Technocracy is located in between the hanging cities of the drow and the under-under ground tunnels of the duergar. Of the three white haired, gray skinned peoples, the svirfneblin is the most technologically advanced. The council of guilds that guide the children of Callarduran promotes neutrality, selling their automatons, arcane firearms, and magical cybernetics to the highest bidder. Some guilds have been fully bought out by the Dominion or Theocracy.

Gith (Under Human): tribes of yellow-green humans fill in the lands between drow outposts and svirfneblin villages. These gith, as they call themselve, are a mysterious group. They seem to be aware of the greater world outside of the Underdark. As well, those who have spoken to gith will often hear them reference groups called the githyanki and githzerai, which evidence suggest they exist outside the Underdark. In truth, the title of "under human" is a misnomer, as they're the only species other than the thri-kreen that can't be 100% tied to an above ground race.

Sardi (Gem Dragonborn): usually founded in temples and monasteries caved into small tunnels near the surface, these reptilians with gem-like scales have a species-wide vow to protect the greater world from the illithids and their creations. While their population is small, their entire culture is dedicated to this endless vigil. These temple-cities are generally the most friendly to the above ground explorers, though disapprove of these expeditions.

Verdan (Black Goblin): named after their black blood, this sub-species of goblin is famous for their mutative growth. No verdan is the same, and this wide variety of sub-species has caused some scholars hypothesis that the illithid experiments that created them was incomplete. Regardless of origins, the verdan are scattered across the Underdark, with the largest collective of them being small villages.

Thri-Kreen (Bug): Hives of humanoid insects have conquered warrens and tunnels all across the Underdark. Alien to the people of the surface, these thri-kreen is a species of hunters and scavengers. Packs of thri-kreen fight as mercenaries and loot the battlefields of the drow, duergar, and svirfneblin for trophies, weapons, scrap, and food. Some take this loot and sell them to the highest bidder, others use the gear to fight more battles. The thri-kreen as a whole have no desire to conquer, only profit out of other's dreams of greatness. But when the three way war for the Underdark has been raging since the fall of the illithids, what better way to survive then exploiting the glory hungry.

None of these races will be playable from the start, but can be accessed later in the campaign.

The start of the campaign will be more linear, as it will follow the expedition party venturing down the Amberreef Mine to the Underdark proper. Once reaching a designated area, the group will create a base camp where the rest of the campaign will be based out of.

This base camp will be set up near a monastery called Temple of the Amber Maw. Previous expeditions have made contact with them, a monk order made up various races, mostly gem dragonborns, and a deal was made to allow the expedition to shelter in their territory.

From here, the party will travel to various areas of interest to discover what's down in the Underdark. From here on out, the order of things is a lot more open ended, and are generally prompted with "There's X, Y, and Z. Go check one of them out and report what you fine." These missions are designed more akin to 1-3 session long dungeon crawls.

This arc of the story is partially inspired by the game Forever Winter. There is a three way war between the Drow, Duergar, and Svirfneblin kingdoms, in which the players are a third (or fourth) party in. While on their quests, the party and other expedition members may run into soldiers and constructs of each empire, where it's up to them how they act.

As the campaign continues, the party will gain favor and hatred from factions within the Underdark based on how they act. For example, the group comes across a drow spider howdah (basically a giant spider with a watchtower on the back) attacking a duergar scouting party. The players can decide to help the drow kill the duergar, help the duergar fight off or escape the spider, or chose to ignore the situation all together. Word goes up the chain of command of these Overbright adventurers helping out and interfering with official business, and armies will adjust accordingly. Depending on how it goes, the group will receive rewards, benefits, contacts, and maybe even be allowed to freely move through the faction's territory.

Factions:

Duchy of Corsci: Being the people who hired the party, the players will start as members and in good standards of this factions. Short of attacking the people of Corsci, the duchess and her solider's will follow the players' path. And depending how that goes, this may include swearing fealty to other power.

Temple of the Amber Maw: The temple has no care for the ongoing war or the surface's desire to explore. All they care about is purging the last of the mindflayers from the world, something that many think has already been done. They'll gain favor of the party if they give them illithid artifacts or kill illithid creations, and in turn will give the party access to their psychic teachings and knowledge.

Menzoberran Dominion, Theocracy of Duerra, or Lur Thechnocracy: Each power claim the entirety of the Underdark as their own. While the current conflict is at a standstill, maybe the introduction of an outside party will turn the tide. Aiding the forces of one faction will give the party favor, and potential access to future mercenary work and even citizenship. Of course, siding with one nation will only anger the other powers.

Black-Blood Host: When word that their was a goblinoid race not serving the god Maglubiyet, his clerics and shamans declared that action was needed. From an unknown entrance, a host of goblinoids lead by a hobgoblin named Zrur has swarmed into the Underdark, seeking to conquer the lost children of Maglubiyet. This has been mostly successful, and even some gith, thri-kreen, and others have joined the nomadic army. The party can too, if they so chose. If not, then the Host will act as a rival expedition. What's one more warmongering empire.

[mypositiveoutlooks]

LOOK: The ancient monastery hanging from the side of a cliff that seems to defy gravity

Sümela Monastery reopened to the public in 2019 after four years of restoration. The monastery is one of the oldest Christian sites, dating back to the 4th century. It was founded by Greek Orthodox monks Barnabas and Sofronios, who found an icon in a cave. Travelers follow a narrow, winding road to Sümela Monastery, set on a cliff 1,200 meters above sea level in Trabzon, Turkey. This Greek…