Tenebré Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Bloody Knuckles

Sokoku Village

There's a spiritual charge to this place that I can sense all the way in my bones. I may have my wandering moments when I question religion and the things Lady Aome teaches me in that musty shrine house, but whatever the truth may be, there is no denying the powerful presence that resides in this massive cherry tree. Its holy title was not imputed to it without due cause. The violet petals raining down from its branches bring me peace, sating my nerves like snow quenching hot coals.

I cannot ignore my thoughts towards the men whose appearance was enough to blanch me, but for now, I must put them to rest until I can discuss matters with Lady Aome later this evening. In the meantime, I shall take her advice and explore the town. The blustery streets should be able to distract my head if anything. But first thing first, I must stop at my quarters before heading out to unload the rest of my pack and put some clean clothes on my back.

The front door is unlocked as it always is, even when I am gone for extended periods as I just was. It is on the shrine grounds after all; not even a mad man would dare pillage a place like this lest his hands be put in eternal chains. Everything inside is still exactly how I left it: my bed is unmade with the blankets ruffled, my desk is cluttered with brushes and inked up parchment, and the bronze censer still has some oil in it. Now I am truly home.

I drop the bag out of my hand, tear off my battered clothes, and slump onto my straw mattress, the frame creaking against the floor boards. It surely beats the comfort of sleeping on a bedroll on the cold, hard ground. I don't allow myself to become too situated, though. I unpack the things that I took with me for the job and put everything away squarely. As I glance over my once slovenly one-room house, I decide that it really isn't the worst space when it is clean and organized. I thoughtlessly select an airy white shirt and a pair of tan pants before grabbing my money pouch and closing the splintery door behind me.



With no real task at hand, just an itch that needs scratching, I wind up wandering down the uneven streets with my hands in my pockets. The sun setting, bathing the cabin style houses with an orange light, mostly everyone has either returned to their homes or made their way to one of the village's three suppliers of liquor: The Calico Cat, Sosuks Inn, and... What's the name of that place again? Lady Aome prefers if her disciples stay clear of alcohol except for certain celebrations, so I can safely say that I might not have ever been to the third tavern. The other two, however, supply the shrine with ceremonial wine so I frequent them on trips to pick up the heavy cases.

I find myself at the edge of town with the west gate standing before me, casting a wide, dark shadow across the ground. "Going out, sir?" calls a formless watchman from the tower. I give a nod, not bothering to shout back. "Don't be long." Just as before, the gate rises and falls seamlessly with me now on the other side. The valley has a deep beauty at twilight, my favorite scene painted with gold.

Emron, one of my friends in the night guard, has just started his shift, setting up a post at the lip of the gate. I haven't seen him in so long I almost forgot how tall he was compared to me. Perhaps I should just stay and chat, catch up a bit...

"Good evening," I say, making my presence known. The words taste so formal coming out, and I begin to wonder why I didn't say something more casual. A grin forms on his face as he turns to me.

"Hey Tenten, how's it going?" I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Such an old nickname, so old that I think he might be the only one that still calls me by it. We have known each other for a long time, since before either of us came to this village. He left home just a year before I was recovered from what was left of Cinis village. But still, hearing the childish name come from his mouth always brings me embarrassment.

"I'm... I'm alright, just trying to clear my head."

"What's got you bothered, the Okamii?" My eyes shoot up to meet his. How does he always do that, know exactly what I'm thinking about? He may not be the smartest, but he is surely intuitive, at least when it comes to me.

"Yeah, actually." I want to change the subject, but I'm scared the conversation will die if I do. "Were you on guard when they showed up?" I know he wasn't but it'll get him talking.

"No, but I heard a great deal from the guy who was when I arrived for my shift. Bet he was praying for a weapon then!"

"Why, what happened?"

"Well, nothing too exciting, really. He said they just walked up, showed him a signed letter that said they had important business with the head priestess, but he was too scared to even look into it and just opened the gate instead. Point is, I wouldn't want to be within ten paces of them without some protection. Who knows what they might try so far away from home where their rules can't touch them." I think Emron is being a little dramatic, but he is right. We don't really know what they might do, and the unknown easily scares.

"Yeah, doesn't sound too eventful, but I see your point," I say dully.

"Did you see them?" He stares at me with a childish glint of intrigue that pressures me to answer.

"I caught a glimpse of them before I headed out. That's what put me in such a mood," I confess.

"What did they look like?" His curiosity is killing me, but still, I give in.

"They looked just like you or me, except they had wicked wolf ears atop their heads and tails hanging low. They were dressed pretty strangely, too. I think it was fur that they wore." It makes my stomach turn to recall. Maybe I shouldn't have left Lady Aome all alone with them. "Do you think you would actually fight them if they turned hostile and you had a weapon?"

"Hmmm, I think so. It is my job, as a last defense, to protect the village from attack. I wouldn't have gotten this job if I weren't ready for something like that." I nod in agreement. He's lucky to be so brave and strong. "What about you?"

The question catches me off guard. I take a moment to think of how to answer, but it's like trying to grab water. "I'm not sure... I don't think I have what it takes." It's the closest to the truth that I can get.

"I think you could take 'em," Emron says with a laugh that makes me question whether he truly believes that, but I laugh with him.

"Maybe if you were with me I could." I try a smile and he returns it, and it makes me glad to have a friend during such a strange time. I get a familiar tug in my chest, a feeling that makes me want to say and do things that I often don't even think about. Words are on the tip of my tongue, but they are held back when he begins to talk again.

"It's getting pretty late. We're going to have to close the gates for the night any minute now."

"Oh, right." It's all I can get out. "Well thanks for talking with me; I hope you have a good shift."

"No problem, I hope I helped! Take care, Tenten." He gives me a pat on the back and a wide smile, one I know is genuine, but I find it hard to match it. Emron signals up to the tower to let me back in, and once again, I am on the other side of the wall.



The village feels deserted like a ghost town, but some stragglers do remain lollygagging on the now closed market street, and I quickly find it to my disliking. There seems to be but one topic floating around, and it is a very sour fruit on the grapevine. Possibly the last thing I wanted to hear about, having just lived it and then relived it again with Emron, but I should have seen it coming.

"I saw it m'self. Two Okamii, walking down this very road," says one burly man to another.

"Can't possibly be a good omen," he replies solemnly, shaking his head.

"They don't worry me. I could surely take 'em." It's a bunch of claptrap, and it doesn't seem to impress. The men here don't even stand a chance against a pup.

My favorite conversation, putting a nervous smile of disbelief on my face as I pick up on it, is shared between two women watching their bruised-up children play in the dusk's fading light.

"They scared me breathless, walking past my husband's shop," says the first woman, the butcher's wife, Youchi. Her face still shows the same fright, a look that reminds me of poor Kikyo. "Thank goodness my young were with Nan."

"Still, you must have been so worried for them! Who knows what they are capable of," comments Lelara, the widowed wife of one of the town's guards.

"I was! But..." Her face, once so riddled with malcontent, creeps into a mischievous grin. Lowering her voice, she continues. "The one was so young and devilishly handsome I could have eaten him up like a wolf~" Nan breaks into a laughter that startles the children and even me.

"Of course you'd say that with your golem of a husband!" Admittedly, I find some amusement in the last part; the butcher is a rather strange looking man with his rough skin and lumpy, bald head. But I know which Okamii she speaks of. His blue eyes are still clear in my mind, and I grow uncomfortable thinking about it, almost agreeing with it. I hasten my pace until the queer women are far out of my range of hearing.

As the moon ascends and the stars begin to peek through the darkness above, I hear one last bit of pointless hearsay. It is an account that claims that a villager overheard the messengers talking, and it's said that they were discussing the very recent death of their Alpha, the monarch in their political system. Whether that is a rumor or the truth, I don't particularly care. The decease of their king hardly seems relevant to their coming here or to the shrine to see the head priestess. I disregard the entire thing.



In the center of a wide intersection huddles a group of young girls in very clean, pastel robes. They are from the shrine, no doubt, though a few I don't really know by name. It is unfortunate, but with the "strict" rules we must follow, I do not get to interact too personally with all of the priestesses, especially during training. Their methods and practices are sacred and vastly different from what I am taught, and Lady Aome keeps us separated to preserve and protect the hallowed traditions. That is why they use the manor and I am confined to the shrine house.

When I reach the edge of their circle, I discover what has attracted their interest. It is a stray black cat whom they are playfully taunting with a long pond reed. The thing is pretty pitiful with one ear missing and begrimed fur, but I can see how it brings them joy, the way it hops around trying to catch the plant. Sometimes they even let it catch the reed, only to pull it back up into the air, far from its reach.

Falling for the cat's charm myself, I fail to notice that the girls have attracted some attention of their own, and it is not the wanted kind. Four drunken men, the smell of smoke and booze clinging to them in a heavy cloud, have approached from the slovenly establishment that I now see is called "Vronar's Den," a suiting name. They walk with faltering feet, but their eyes are steady. I tense up and turn to them fully, somehow hoping that my presence will be enough to change their course, but they continue to lessen the distance.

It's not long before the hoots join the hobble, bringing the girls' attention to their predicament. The younger amongst them shrink back with unease while those who have the nerve stand forward, arms crossed. These are the girls who have been here before in their old lives, having dealt with filth like these drunkards countless times prior.

"What brings you ladies out on this fine evening?" One calls out with slurred words and smooth artifice. The other men laugh, spreading out until they have formed a ring around us like vultures around prey. When no answer follows, the leader of the pack drops his smile and tries again. "Maybe you came out looking for us."

Iis a tough, young priestess who came to us from the east, lets out a mock laugh as she pushes her way to the front. "Hardly," she spits back. "One would have to be pathetic to be out looking for the likes of you, swine." The rage is quick to fill the assailant's face.

"I don't know, 'former whore' sounds pretty pathetic to me." The distasteful comment riles up all of the girls, pulling shouts from even the youths. Meanwhile, the ring grows ever tighter, trying to prevent resistance.

"Look," I interject, taking on more bravery than I can swallow. "You're not going to get anything from them, so why don't you all just head on your way home?" I must not sound convincing for my attempt is met with laughter. Iistries to push forward again, but I hold her back. I'm sure she would turn things violent given the chance, not that I blame her.

"That doesn't mean we won't just take what we want." No one has time to react to the threat before several of the men take hold of the girls' wrists, causing frightened screams to escape their mouths. My heart is pounding in my chest as things are brought to a whole new level.

"Knock it off!" I holler red-faced, trying to free one of the girls from the leader's thick, hairy arms. To my relief, he lets go, but my triumph fades as he raises a fist, grinning. A smile of my own forms, though; from the corner of my eye, I see three guards making their way hastily to our aid.

"Looks like the guard dog doesn't like it when we mess with the bitch's holy litter." Something in me snaps, a part of me that used to be so stable that I wasn't even aware of its existence. A rush of blood courses through me as my hand forms a fist that meets squarely with the assailant's nose. Cartilage crushes beneath the force. Before I can even process my actions or have regret about the man now on the ground before me, one of the town's guards that I was so quick to forget about is tying a piece of tattered rope around my wrists and starts escorting me away. As I peer down, I see crimson smudges on my hand, some bloody knuckles, and the blood doesn't belong to me.