Tenebré Chapter One

Tenebré

Chapter One

Visitors

Trinity Valley, Southbound

         The glowing embers of last night’s camp fire still burn hot enough for me to warm my hands over them. As I try to bring warmth back into my fingers and palms, I let out a yawn so big it pulls heavy on my stubbly jaw. My hair thrown askew from lying on it, I run a hand through the sandy colored mess to tame it and then yawn again as the sensation pulls another one out of me. After letting my feet get toasty at the coal’s edge, I feel alive enough to set back out on my journey home. I roll up my bedroll and tie it tightly to my canvas, wood framed bag which I then throw over my shoulders with a huff. It’s awfully heavy today, full of silver urns and pots of ink, as well as many other luxuries I didn’t bother looking over. With my gear together and my worn, brown leather boots on, I set off.

        Almost a week ago, I was sent by the priestess to visit Tonari Village to perform a simple ceremonial blessing on their new Goddess idol. The statue stood at twice my height and was carved from some type of light wood, perhaps pine or cherry. It depicted the regional Goddess, Auroris, the protector and guardian of the Trinity Valley. Each of her six wings were chiseled with great craftsmanship and fine detail, and her hair, braided with violet blossoms and scallop shells, reached down to her knees. I was honored to bless it. This was only my second job, and though I was nervous and felt like I might choke all the while, it went a lot smoother than the first. I didn’t skip any verses this time.

         Nothing lies before me except the same dirt path I have been traveling on for the past two days. Fields of green grass and swaying thistles stretch out to the horizons where they meet the clear, blue sky. Not a single cloud or bad omen in sight. A family of rabbits poke out of their nesting hole to my right, the youngest bounding out with uncalculated hops in my direction, but none of them pay me any mind. Walking down this trodden road feels the same going home as it did leaving: monotonous yet comforting. It’s safe and it’s familiar.

         A loud rustling off to my left makes me crouch down apprehensively as I reconsider my last thoughts. Through a thicket of weeds comes a brown wolf pouncing up into the air, landing right before me where the rabbits shuffle in confusion. The surprise sends me backwards, tripping me onto my rear. With a swift motion, a blur to my eyes, the beast snatches up one of the parents and shakes it in its muzzle until the life has left its tiny body. By now, the other two rodents are gone, back down their stuffy hole. I sit there on the hard ground, my palms presses firmly to the rocky road to keep me upright. Uncontrolled breaths filter frantically through my lungs as I give a final prayer to Auroris, awaiting my imminent doom. But it does not come.

         The beast, standing as tall as an adult man, has stopped before me, the bloodied rabbit still hanging from its teeth. It does not move, it just observes with honey colored orbs. I do the same back, wondering what has saved me from what I was sure to be my fate. Thank the Goddess, too; with the town’s anti-violence policies and its prohibition within the shrine, I wouldn't know how to defend myself even if my life depended on it, as it almost just did. A thought crosses my mind: perhaps it is not a wolf at all, but rather a creature come from the west... I push the idea far from my mind, for if it were true, I would not be here to have such thoughts. It has to be only a wolf, but there is no denying the mystery of its height and actions.

        In the brief seconds I spend contemplating, it has decided I am not of interest anymore, bounding off into the dense grasses from which it came with its catch. After a pause to confirm my safety, I bring myself back onto my feet, brushing the dirt off of my already ruffled pants. Whatever the nature of that beast might have been, one thing is for sure: it being here is a sign of bad things to come. Wolves do not wander out of the ancient forest for no reason. It is time for me to hurry home.       



         Time lapses by as I ponder too heavily on the subject of out of place beasts and fall into a state of hypnosis. One second I’m passing the twisted rock formation that marks the farthest stretches of my village’s domain, and by the next, home can be seen peeking up above the horizon, the west gate standing tall and prominent in the foreground as I mount the crest of a knoll. I stop for a moment as my surroundings catch up with me and the whole village comes into focus: its densely populated center full of brown blurs from the log buildings and crowded market streets, the thick wooden wall that encircles and protects it, and the outlying huts and farms and twisting streams that dot the outskirts like little shrooms and knotty roots around a nourishing stump. A smile forms on my lips, and with increased vigor, I descend towards the gate.

         A lightly armored and weaponless sentry greets me as I near the portcullis, a hand saluting me above his uncapped head. I don’t need to make much of an introduction before he signals someone up in the lofty sentinel tower to grant me entry.

         “Good to see you back and well, Tenebré,” the ground sentry says as he gives me a pat on the shoulder. His muscular arm almost knocks me off my feet.

         “Thank you. Glad to be back.” With what looks like effortless motion, the gate rises to let me in and then lowers behind me with a groaning huff as it meets the ground in a cloud of dust. Whoever is in charge of that feat must have a great deal of strength to make it appear so easy.

         It feels nice to be home once again after being away for a job. The sounds and the faces are familiar: the hammering of a sledge on steel, the turning of wheels on wagons, the neighing of horses tied to posts outside decorated shops and smoky taverns... These sounds surely exist in all other towns, but here it rings the tune of comfort. 

         I waste no time getting back to the shrine. It lies in the northeast sector and only takes two turns and a bit of walking to get there. Slightly elevated on a mound, where it has sat since the days of yore when this village was but a cluster of houses and farms, I climb the stairs to the torii and enter the grounds. To the left is the actual shrine house with dark walls made of maple logs and copper shingles worn green by the weather to resemble milky jade. There we honor Auroris and offer gifts and prayers for blessings. The front entrance is already decorated with flowers and mochi boxes from today’s visitors. To the far right lies the horse stables and a little closer is a black stone fountain used for cleaning ones hands and feet, a form of purification. As part of habit and good spiritual practice, I wash my feet there with a wooden ladle before continuing any further to the housing in the far back of the shrine, right beyond the garden and the pink Goddess tree.

         Lady Aome’s manor is quite the luxurious sight, spanning many yards in all directions, roofed with thick, slate shingles, a deck made of maple that surrounds the whole exterior, and an inner courtyard that even has a pond stocked with koi and trees that bear sweet plums. The manor is the official residence of Lady Aome and all of her disciples, those who came to become priestesses and those who Lady Aome bought from brothels in neighboring towns to give them a better life. But living under the protection of a Goddess, one who also symbolizes femininity, it is a rule that only women are allowed to train and reside there. That means that I have my own separate living conditions- a quaint hut beside the stables.

         Although I could seek the proper blessings required to move residence to the manor, having been here so long and with such a close relationship with the head priestess, I am content with just having the blessings needed to be trained as an honorary priest. I received such when I first arrived here almost thirteen years ago, and since then, I have been taught the ways of a priest at the shrine house from Lady Aome under the sight of the Goddess herself. Part of me has a suspicion that Lady Aome might have created that rule herself as a way to protect the young women, but I have never asked her and probably never will. I would not want to undermine or question her religious authority.

         The porch creaks under the weight of my feet and heavy baggage as I slide open the screen panel to the foyer. It’s a small entryway littered with statues and potted plants that leads to several adjacent halls, some of which contain bedrooms and others that contain studies, baths, a kitchen, doors to the courtyard, and there is even a door down the last hallway that enters into a library with a pretty extensive collection of scrolls and books, a room that is a particular favorite of mine. My footsteps echo as I make my way lightly to Lady Aome’s chamber. I wonder where the girls are at that it is so quiet inside. When I arrive outside her room, I rap my fist on her door and wait for verbal permission to enter or to be greeted by one of her disciples whom she often keeps close by, only to be surprised by her opening the door to welcome me home herself.

         “Lady Aome,” I say as I give a half-bow. She stops me with a gentle hand, offering a warm hug instead. I’m glad to know that she missed me as well. As we separate, I catch the scent of jasmine in her greying blonde hair, her tell-tale perfume that I will associate with her motherly figure for the rest of my life. Soft creases form by her lips and eyes as she smiles at me brightly.

         “Welcome home, my son,” she says as she steps to the side and invites me in. No one else is present for once, no girls weaving baskets or glancing over texts, but there will be time to ask about their absence later. As she takes a seat on a cushion beside the low oak table, I make myself comfortable across from her, letting my bag slip off my shoulder and onto the floor at my hip. It is nice to be freed from the weight.

         “Thank you,” I start, eager to continue our conversation. “I am happy to be back.”

         “How did everything go in Tonari?”

         “It went well; they seemed to be content with my work.” With a triumphant grin, I empty my haul onto the table in front of her, a rich display of silvers, brass, and even gold. She raises her eyebrows at the pile with obvious surprise and gives a laugh of amusement.

         “It seems so,” she says as she glances over it with a practiced eye a final time before returning her gaze to me. “This will come in handy; some of the girls need new garbs, and merchants are always willing to trade cloth and silk for fine metals. And the ink will allow the girls and you to practice your calligraphy.” I nod my head and glide my hand over an ink pot, looking forward to spending time copying scrolls in my study by candlelight. “So...” she continues, a wind of sternness filling her lungs. “You didn’t-”

         “Nope,” I answer prematurely, already knowing where she was headed. “I remembered every single word this time.” She lets out a sigh.

         “Good. I’m very proud of your progress, Tenebré. And I am proud of you as my son.” And I know she means it. I can hear it in her soft words and see it in her kind eyes, and it makes my heart lighten. Sometimes I hardly remember I was adopted.

         Just as I am about to tell her more about my time in the neighboring village, I jump at the sound of the door sliding open sharply behind me. I didn’t even hear the proceeding footsteps. I turn around to see one of the priestesses, Kikyo. She is youthful, tall, blessed with the goddess’ beauty, and one of Lady Aome’s finest disciples, but now she wears a frightened visage that makes her look fragile and small. Her raven black hair has fallen out of its usual bun.

         “Lady Aome,” she says with a bow, her movements and words rushed with urgency. “There are two messengers here to speak with you. They are waiting to hold conference in the courtyard.” Lady Aome’s eyes flicker up to the priestess’ and then back to mine.

         “They can wait there. I will be with them when I am finished going over the details of Tenebré’s last job with him,” she replies curtly but respectfully.

         Kikyo does not look pleased with the answer, however. In fact, she looks distraught, as if she couldn’t have received a worse response. “But Lady-”

         “I said they shall wait and so wait they shall do.” She says firmly and with finality.

         “Head priestess,” Kikyo continues persistently with disregard to her superior’s commands, a pleading look in her eyes like a dark shadow lie above her. “It is of the utmost importance that you speak with them now.”

         “What has gotten into you, child?” Lady Aome’s patience returns, her words growing with concern. More wrinkles form on her forehead. “You act as if you have seen a monster walking our halls.” Kikyo stares at me worriedly, or what I could almost mistake as fear, before running to Lady Aome’s side to tell her something in whispers. Whatever secret words she speaks must be convincing for when they whistle into her ear, Lady Aome’s eyes grow wide and she rises to her feet at once.

         “I will be with them in a moment. Go ahead of me and let them know. Thank you.” And with that, Kikyo leaves in a hurry down the hallway, her hair whipping about. “Tenebré.” The way she says my name, the way she reacted to Kikyo’s words, the way she looks at me now in the same way the priestess did... No, it’s more forgiving than that, but still, it fills me with apprehension, and even more so, dread. “I have to take care of some... important business, but I promise we will finish this conversation later. In the meantime, go out and enjoy yourself in the town. I gave the girls the day off from their duties so you should see them out there as well,” she says, answering all of my unasked questions, even the one about the girls’ whereabouts. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was trying to get me away from the shrine.

         At this point, I have nothing left to do but accept the rapid change of events, and so I nod understandingly and dismiss myself, grabbing my bag before I leave. I will not be hitting town, however, until I catch a glimpse of these “messengers.”



         Flighty footsteps and a mental map of manor’s layout take me to the courtyard by means of a narrow backway that barely permits my passing. I had to make sure I wouldn’t get caught hanging around, especially with the head priestess heading to the same location. As I arrive at the shouji door on the east end, I try to prepare myself for what I might find lurking within.

My mind first jumps to an image of ragged men with rolling beards and pulled back hair, boorish people from the Easterlands, but that wouldn’t make much sense. The wastelands to the east are riddled with crude tribes and war states, much unlike our calm valley, and they have not been seen this far west in decades, and they would certainly not send messengers here. They would be knocking at our doors with an army clad in armor, a pike in each of their hands. Perhaps they are collectors come to reclaim one of Lady Aome’s girls whom she obtained through “unlawful” means; not all of them were brought here with proper documentation and contracts. That would explain why Kikyo was in such a dogged and fidgety state, and of course Lady Aome would want to deal with them immediately.

While I am formulating possibilities in my head, I am drawn out by the sound of someone entering the courtyard through the north side, and with an eye pressed to a slit between two panels, I spy on who is outside. It is Lady Aome, nonetheless, and while she pauses a moment in confusion, she does not seem all too alarmed as she continues to approach the visitors who still stand outside my limited view. Her stature is tall and commanding, as someone in her position should hold themselves, but she definitely does not appear tense at all as I guessed she might. Are they people she knows? Was she expecting them?

She stops advancing, picking a spot directly in my line of vision to stand, her jeweled hands clasped in front of her. I hope it is just a coincidence. That is when the first of the two messengers speaks... He is definitely male, his voice rather low and serious like he’s pulling the words from deep in his lungs, but he sounds polite in tone. Whatever it is he says, however, I do not know. I would do anything to have a closer spot. Then a second, brighter voice speaks; he is also male. I think I even here a laugh amongst his words. A slight gap fills the time between when the messengers talk and when Lady Aome starts replying, and... She bows to them! Or one of them, but either way, I have surely never seen her bow to someone before.

Who the hell could these people be to make a head priestess bow to them, in her own shrine? Definitely not Easterlies, and now my collector theory is even losing ground. I am more perplexed and intolerably intrigued than ever, enough so that it begins to push my limits. For a while they continue on with their muddled speech that I can’t follow while I shift nervously in the hall. Once or twice I get the itching feeling someone is watching me and have to check over my shoulder to make sure Kikyo or one of the other girls hasn’t caught me. It feels like it has been the better half of an hour since I started listening in on this tiresome exchange, but not once have the two messengers entered my view, and so now my limits are surpassed. I am forced to take a chance.

Willfully slowing my shallow breath to steady my shaky hands, I slide the shouji over by just a hair, and that is all it takes to reveal the surreptitious visitors who were just barely out of my sight the whole time. They are two men, as I had guessed, and the taller of the two turns right towards me, meeting my wide, hazel eyes with sickening blue ones.

They are not men.

They are from the Westerlands.

They are two Okamii messengers, and one is staring right at me.

         I can feel my face turn sallow as my strength leaves me, knees shaking. There is a ringing in my head that grows so loud that it shatters my frozen state and sends me stumbling backwards until I collapse against the thin wall behind me. What a fortune I didn’t fall through. I push away from it and take nimble flight towards the foyer, a place that seems endlessly away.

         Discovering their true identities did nothing to dulcify my solicitude and curiosity. That did not ease my horrible edge. All that did was throw my mind into an uproar of thoughts that threaten to flip my stomach and choke me lifeless. My pulse racing, I throw myself out the front door and do not stop running until I reach the Goddess Tree in the middle of the garden.