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[Celestia]

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Bargaining


The great bell rang three times.

The long toll of its ringing drifted into the distant hills of Makoto-Jima to be replaced by the wind rustling through the bamboo forest.

Yoshi knelt in the shrine of her forefathers dressed in traditional white. Her kimono, made from the finest silks, shone in the bright light of late afternoon. Her Obi bearing the image of cranes standing in shallow water was tied off in the form of a Lotus. Her hair was gathered and pinned in the fashion of one seeking favors from the gods. A single hair-fan protruded from the large chignon at the back of her head. The fan was painted with the image of fishing boats in black and red. Her face was calm; her eyes closed in meditation.

She had been kneeling here since sunrise. She had not eaten nor taken water. She had not spoken. She had not removed her hands from the folds of her sleeves. She was a statue of discipline. A porcelain figurine made to grace the altar of some wealthy lord. She was bound by her desire to seek patronage; a favor: A blessing.

At sunset the gentle breeze that rustled the bamboo shifted from land to seaward and the scent of the ocean drifted through the shrine. Yoshi opened her eyes slowly as one awakening from a trance. The smell of the ocean brought a sharp memory of her mother tending the fishing nets on the shores near their summer home. How she loved the ocean. A single tear trailed down Yoshi’s face to land on the sleeve of her kimono. She looked at the stain as though it were a sign. Lifting her head she whispered;

“Grandfather. I have done my best to pay my Gimu to our family back to the time of the beginning. I have made the offerings and strove to fulfill my obligations to my father and my Empress. In all this I have asked for nothing. In all this I have given much. I have but one thing left to offer…”

Removing her hand from the sleeve of her kimono she brought forth a Tanto bound in red leather and wood. She raised the sleeve of her kimono above the elbow and, holding the Tanto before her, tugged the blade from the scabbard. Her eyes reflected in the highly polished blade as she drew it out. Laying the scabbard gently to the side of her left knee she rested her left forearm on her folded leg and placed the flat of the cold blade against her skin.

“…I offer my blood and my word that I will do whatever you ask, pay any price, kill any man, fulfill any pilgrimage or die any death if you would but return my mother to her husband and daughter and fill the blackness that surrounds us with the light of her smile.”

Yoshi drew the blade across her forearm. The blade left no mark of its passing. Then a thin red line appeared. Yoshi closed her eyes and whispered her promise again. The thin red line grew into a smear; the smear into a trickle; the trickle into a red cord that flowed along the curve of her arm and came to rest in a blossoming pool on the white folds of her kimono.

As the sun dipped behind the hills and the call of an eagle echoed through the bamboo, Yoshi Shimakaze, first born daughter to the House of Shimakaze, Tenji to the Empress of Tokuno and beloved daughter of Mura Shimakaze struck her bargain in blood…

…and the great bell rang once more.


To be continued…