Tales of the Last Man from the Moon

Your name is Waka, and this is what you've been up to for the last few centuries... (A writing blog for tales of a certain journey through Nippon. Pardon the blog's construction as I get stuff set up)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Your name is Ushiwaka. You’ve noticed that people tend to call you Waka for short, though that doesn’t really bother you. It’s actually kinda charming, you think. Endearing, even. (You always were a fan of the poetry...)

You’ve been in Nippon for... well, a while now. How long has it been...? 200 years? No, it must have been longer, even if only technically. It’s easy to lose track of the tiny specifics after that kind of time. Especially when there’s much to keep track of on top of it.

After all, a lot happens in 200 years. You of all people would know, wouldn’t you?

( Start at the beginning || About || Tag Directory ) (We are currently: +200 years ago, shortly after the Ark crash)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

From the Author

(So. That AI partnering announcement huh?

I know I've been quiet here after the holiday break, mostly due to a BUNCH of offline emergencies hitting me out of the gate since January, but boy has tumblr making it a little hard to try and come back to posting on... especially with learning we're gonna have this nonsense on top of it.

I likely will not be yoinking everything off this blog JUST yet (and hell, I might even try to at least update out to the end of this first arc on here), but before I do I think I'm going to archive what I have here on AO3 in case this whole site tries to go belly up first. So likely, next update will be my AO3 link, and then after that, we get back to trying to get a certain prophet out of the snow.

Thanks to those who are still hanging out here; it means a lot!)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

(Author here! for those wondering where I am, I'm on a teeny bit of a holiday break! I live in the US, and there's been a lot more excitement and travel than usual between Thanksgiving and Christmas this year for me, so more than likely the next update will have to wait until January. But to those who are still sticking around, thank you, and we'll be back in business soon enough)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

The sun is barely up, but Burai is already waiting at Wep'keer's gate... along with Moshiri and--even more surprising--Kei. You knew you had a slim chance of leaving without the chief overseeing things, but you can't help but wonder...

"Where's Akari?" Akemi asks, now a little more alert as the cold air perks her up. "She always goes places with Burai."

"Ah, good, you're here," Moshiri greets, giving you a glance over before his eyes slide to your shoulder. "And Akemi is with you."

"Of course. I promised Ikken I'd bring her home." You're careful not to accidentally dump Akemi into the show as you offer the chief a bow. "I owe my life to both Wep'keer and Ponc'tan. Thank you again."

"I told you, you needn't worry yourself with that. And you've already done enough..."

Kei and Burai shoot looks between you and their chief, and you can hear the unspoken did you not tell anyone else? in the tilt of Moshiri's head. "Much like Ikken, Akari received a prediction concerning our people's future. And last night, she decided it might be better if she stayed behind with Sota to investigate it more. So Kei will be going with Burai instead."

It's nice that Akari is trusting you enough to take your prophecy seriously. You can't say the same for Burai, though, with how he's scrutinizing you out the corner of his eye as Moshiri prays over Kei. It only breaks as he ducks his head for his own blessing, and you hadn't realized you were tensing until your shoulders drop and nearly send Akemi plunging into the snow. You're starting to wonder if maybe you should ask to wait for the next patrol...

"And you. Oracle."

Moshiri's voice snags your attention, and you blink to refocus on the wagtail mask in front of you. "You have quite the journey ahead of you; even further than our patrol." He studies your face, and despite doing your best to keep a straight face, he hums knowingly. "If you havee any last things to say or ask of us, now is the time to speak them. Lest they haunt you later."

You're starting to get annoyed with how the chief keeps touching nerves, and you especially hate how you have no idea if it's on purpose or not. It keeps your tongue locked and your jaw clenched at first, long enough that Akemi quietly tugs on a flyaway hair to make sure you actually heard what Moshiri said. Eventually you force the words loose, glancing over your shoulder and up the path disappearing into the mountains.

"I have no other visions. But..." You know Yawa told you to honor the dead by moving forward, but if you're going to leave them behind, you owe it to ask this last favor. "Even if your people eventually forget me... don't forget those that didn't get to leave. They're gods, but they're also victims. They need people here that can honor their memory."

"I doubt the Oina will be forgetting any of this any time soon. The boat--an Ark, you called it--is in Lake Laochi now; like it or not, they've become a part of us, just as our destinies are twined with yours." Even so, something in his intense stare softens. "But I understand."

Moshiri gestures for you to come closer, and at first, you're not sure what he wants. It's only when Akemi whispers a hint for you to bow your head that it clicks. "You want to pray for me...?"

"You are leaving as well as these two, are you not?" You duck your head as Moshiri approaches, and as he lays a hand on the eagle's face something in the world stills. "May the spirits of the air, earth, and sea lend you their strength, and keep you one step ahead of your pursuers," he repeats, "both for you and the goddess you seek." He pauses, then adds in a quieter tone: "and may whatever you've yet to see at least be kind to you."

You doubt any of them will be, but the sentiment is appreciated. Even so, you swear something in the wind shifts ever so slightly as he steps back to bid you all on your way. It almost seems to drown out the sorrowful murmurs and hisses, quietly whispering to urge you forward as you take the first steps past the gate.

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

You know this will be her last chance, but when morning comes you can't help but feel like Yawa is taking her sweet time to see you off. She keeps finding new things to do and double check, making sure you've had breakfast, looking over your healed wounds one more time, wondering if you'd need a warmer coat...

While she's distracted checking over your supplies, Kuki makes her move to scuttle over, a familiar blue glow nestled into her palms. "No matter how much Akemi begs," she says, gently placing the bleary poncle in your hands, "she goes back to Ponc'tan. Not in your sleeves."

"It's almost like you don't trust me not to end up spiriting away a child." Even doing your best to keep your tone dry, Kuki still freezes, and you have to resist a sigh. "It's a joke, Kuki," you assure her as you lift Akemi up to your shoulder, "I'll make sure she actually goes home."

"M'not gonna sneak off again," Akemi grumbles, "'specially not if Burai's gonna be there..."

"Now don't you let Burai give you any trouble," Yawa chimes back in, "but don't you go pushing his buttons either." You're not sure which one of the two of you she's talking to, and for a moment you think she's going to bop you on the forehead as she hands over your things. Instead, the moment her hands are free she pulls you into an embrace.

“Our time together was short, but you'll be missed just as much,” she murmurs, giving you a squeeze. "I know we're mere mortals, but when you're back alongside your goddess, I hope you won't forget us."

"I..." Gather yourself. "I don't think I could if I tried." You pull back just enough to lift an edge of the veil to her. "I'm sort of carrying the Oina with me now, aren't I?"

Yawa hums a bit, then leans her forehead against yours. "Take care of yourself. For the gods' sake, living and dead, if no one's else's." She suddenly becomes firm, lifting a finger to shake. “And Waka, so help me, if I find out you died before I do, when I get to the afterlife you are getting the broom. You hear me?"

You can't tell if she's joking, and when Kuki quietly mumbles a 'she means it', you can't help but be startled into a laugh. The way Yawa's eyes crinkle behind her mask suggest there's a grin behind it as well. "Now there's some joy. Good. I hoped I'd see you off with a smile."

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

(To the anon who sent that ask about Yawa being the best: tumblr ate your ask when I tried to answer it, but I do agree wholeheartedly, please have a very silly doodle of sheep grandma and her newest grandson as thanks:

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

There is an outpost on the edge of the Oina territory, and not a far journey from the passageway Ikken told you about. The guards posted apparently rotate every month, and just your luck, the next pair leaves to trade out tomorrow. Thanks to Ikken, you'll be following Akari and Burai out at dawn, taking you most of the way you need to go. He even promised to give you one of his old maps for your journey south... well, he'll trade it in exchange for a favor... that being to bring Akemi back home along your way.

("Do you normally stay in Wep'keer this long at a time?" you had asked her that evening, and Akemi argued that it's a very long walk for someone her size, before sheepishly musing that she was going to be in so much trouble...)

You try your best to get some sleep, but your nightmares prove persistent. The dead are restless as always, but even more so now that you plan to leave. Every time you wake, you're left with the phantom chill of icy fingerprints on your limbs, clasped around your ankles, tugging you back by the arms, hooked around your shoulders and wrapped around your throat.

Why should you get to leave? they whisper, echoing louder in your skull and off the walls each time you awaken. How do you lead so many to death and bring a curse upon the world, and still get to walk away a second time?

The third time you jolt awake, you sit up to find the room is suddenly way too small, too warm, to the point where it's actually hard to take a comfortable breath. You have to go outside, at least for a moment.

You try your best to be quiet as you push open the door, and the cold air on your face is an immediate relief, however small. You don't go very far, opting to just stare up into the sky from a few steps away. The moon is barely a sliver, and you'll be lucky if any of it's left in tomorrow's sky. Not exactly the most promising omen... especially for you.

"Even with travel in the morning, you're once again wide awake..."

Glancing over your shoulder has Yawa staring back at you. Ah, damnit, and you had tried to be so quiet. "I'm starting to wonder if maybe you belong in the moonlight," she muses, tilting her head to the side. "It certainly seems to have an effect on you every time you're standing in it."

"Sorry to wake you. Just... needed some fresh air." You still have no idea what she means by that, but still do your best to casually wave her off. "I'll be inside in a moment, promise. You can go back to sleep."

Not surprisingly, Yawa isn't deterred by this, and instead tromps over to join you. You're half-expecting to get dragged back by the ear, but instead she just studies your face; it's almost torture how silent she stays, and how long she does so.

"So many thoughts behind those eyes," she eventually murmurs. "What's on your mind Waka? Wondering if perhaps you should stay instead?"

You shake your head. "I can't stay, and I know that, but..." You glance back up, though instead of the moon your eyes settle on the uppermost path. "It still feels a bit... wrong, I guess. Leaving them behind like this."

"You mean the ones who died..." Yawa hums a bit, and out of the corner of your eye you see her following your gaze. "You worry you're abandoning them?"

"Am I not, in a way?" You offer her a shrug, eyes not once leaving the horizon. "Not that I have much choice in the matter, but... do they understand? Or even care?"

Another hum, this one as if she finally understands. "You fear they'd resent you, then."

You really don't like how this woman's managing to cut to the core of you. Should you tell her? Should she be the first you confess the blood on your hands to? Maybe she already knows; Yawa would've been first to hear whatever you'd end up mumbling in your sleep. Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear the wind is still moaning with the dead's laments, carrying them from Lake Laochi to drift past the two of you.

Of all the people who fled the Celestial Plain... of all the people who should have lived or died...

"If any one of us that boarded that Ark should currently be dead on its floor, it's certainly me." For many, many reasons. The wind hisses past your ears as you raise your gaze back to the moon, and your heart aches at how empty it looks with just one little sliver left. "A prophet rarely sees his own future... perhaps I'm just running from my fate, and I don't even realize I'm doing it."

There's a long pause... then a set of hands on your face as Yawa gently pulls you down to look her in the eye. "Listen to me, Waka. I can't speak to how life was on the Celestial Plain, but here? Life is a gift, one that you're never guaranteed to keep. Even the gods that are dead would want you to live that life instead of spending your days asking whether or not you deserve to do so."

If only she knew why you're questioning it. The little 'heh' that escapes you is mirthless, flat as the ice on the lake. "You make it sound like that's so easy."

"Oh, it's definitely not. There are days that being alive feels more like a miserable curse than a gift." Her thumbs brush the corners of your eyes, and it's only now you realized you're teary. "But no one--not even the gods--can change what's happened; we can only choose how to move forward. The sun will still rise tomorrow whether we're ready for it or not, and it's up to us what we do with the day it brings." She chuckles a little. "Speaking of the sun, you still have that goddess to meet up with, yes? Certainly she wouldn't resent seeing that the escape wasn't completely in vain."

That's now two people who've said something like that. The mention of Amaterasu does rouse your spirit again, though the feeling is wavering dangerously, teetering on a knife's edge and threatening to slip from your grasp. Yawa seems to sense this, and before you can speak any doubts, she leans forward to rest her forehead on yours.

"Honor her and the dead by allowing yourself to live," she murmurs. "Don't let that resolve you share fade away by the time you meet again."

Resolve... that seems a good word for it. It's what fueled the fight on the Celestial Plain, and what's stirred in your memory to keep you going thus far. The breath you take is shaky, but the flickering feeling evens itself out into something smoother, warmer, burning just a little more steadily. Just enough.

"How did you get to be so wise, Yawa?" you murmur, and she huffs a quiet laugh.

"I'm a grandmother, dear. We're all wise." She pats your cheeks a few times before letting go of your face. "Now come inside before the cold makes you sick. You have quite the journey ahead of you, and Burai will be cross if he has to carry you a second time."

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

It seems your hunch was right: the merchants definitely seem more willing to speak to you with Kuki's mask on your person. They indulge you when you ask about their routes, though most of the ones they tell you about seem to lead to other parts of Kamui. When you ask about going further, they've all given you strange looks, with a few asking if you plan to cross by sea. It seems leaving might be trickier than you thought...

"Well now," eventually comes a voice from behind you, "what a pleasant surprise to see you up and about."

When you turn, you can't find who's speaking. Thankfully, if Akemi has taught you one thing, it's to look down before taking any steps around you. What you find is another poncle... actually three of them, though you immediately recognize the one in the middle.

"I think I should be saying the same to you!" You offer Ikken as best a bow as you can at your height, and you're pretty sure he offers you one back (at least you think he does, it's admittedly a little hard to see with him down at your feet.) "You're a bit far from Ponc'tan, no?"

"I'm here on business. Even training another, I'm still the current Celestial Envoy for now." He holds up a hand to steady his guards when you carefully take a knee in the snow, and you swear the glow around him warms. "It's good to see you faring much better than when we met. I see the oina have even warmed up to you."

"Well, some of them." You offer him a bit of a shrug. "Even then, I'm sure none of it would have happened without the poncles' aid." As soon as you say that, something clicks in your brain, and idea pops into your head. "Actually, if I may be so bold, I'd like to ask your help one more time. Or at least a question only you can answer."

Well that certainly has Ikken's attention. He gestures for your hand to hop up into your palm, and you wait for him to settle before lifting him more comfortably into your sight. "When the Celestial Envoys go out to spread word of the gods, how do they travel beyond Kamui?"

"You don't plan to stay in Wep'keer?" You shake your head, and Ikken tilts his the other way. "Do you hope to follow the next envoy when he's ready, then?"

"I'm planning to go south," you clarify, "I have other destinies that I'll need to see to."

That has Ikken humming a bit, a hand going to his chin in thought. "I suppose the work of a prophet would keep him busy," he muses, "especially in times like these." After a moment of humming and musing, the poncle in your hands looks back up. "There's a tunnel in the southern part of Kamui that leads to the rest of Nippon, in less time than it takes to cross by sea. I doubt you'll fit through the entrance we poncles take, but the space it leads to is much more human sized."

Well that's incredibly promising. You're starting to wonder why no one ever thought to tell you about this before. "And the Oina don't use it?" you muse as Ikken offers a shrug.

"I can only assume they don't know how. Honestly, I can't say I completely know how the big folk would use it. I've never seen the door open at your height." Oh. That's... admittedly less promising, even as Ikken continues. "Though, if the poncles can use it, I'm sure someone the gods favor enough to live among them might be able to find a way as well."

You really don't know how well that confidence is placed, but you're willing to check it out if it means you won't need to find someone willing to ferry you across the ocean. (Ugh, what a way to find out that the thought of boarding any sort of boat again makes you feel a little ill...) "I'm sure I can figure it out. Can you show me where it is?"

"I'm afraid the journey's a bit far for me, especially when I have both a village to attend to and an envoy to train." You don't need to see his face to know exactly what look he's giving you. "But if you're willing to carry me the rest of the way to see Moshiri, I think I might have an idea for who can."

[feliciadraws]

Wanted to do a little thing for my partner-in-cringe @bamboorocket, so I decided to do a little thing of her poncle OC, Akemi! She befriended Waka after the Ark of Yamato first crash-landed in Kamui and he was stranded in the mortal realm. And she's adorable and I love her.

Also if you're not reading Bamboo's Waka fic blog Journey of The Moon Prophet then SHAME ON YOU. It's really one of the best Waka fics I've ever read, and it's here on Tumblr! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FRICK READ IT IT'S SO GOOD (it's also mucho painful, but of course it's going to be)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

(If you want to start at the beginning and read the fic entries in order, you can click this sentence because Tumblr is being a pain about navigating there otherwise)

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Your agenda for the morning is to start by talking with some of the merchants. If anyone would know the safest routes south, it'd be the traders that'd be coming and going from the village. Hopefully with a mask of sorts on your person, they'll be a little more willing to talk to you, even without Akemi perched on your shoulders.

Yawa is sweeping the snow out from the walkway when you crack the door open. Oh right, you should probably give her your borrowed clothes back, now that Kuki is done mending yours. (You'd hand them off to Kuki herself, but you're pretty sure that if you tried approaching her first, she'd flee like a spooked deer.)

You barely get one step out the door, borrowed clothing folded and tucked under your arm, when Yawa calls out. "If you're going out to market, let me give you my list."

"Putting me to work right before I leave, Yawa?" you joke, and she pauses her sweeping. "I just finished healing, you know."

Yawa glances over her shoulder, and her eyes crinkle behind the mask. “Kuki was right; the eagle really does suit you.” She sets her broom aside to look you over, studying both your mended sleeves and the one or two scars poking out from under the cuffs. You can't help but find it amusing how she squints when she notices that the only gold showing is your bangs. “How did you manage to do that?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve put up my hair.” You leave it at that and offer out the folded clothes to her. “I believe these are yours. Or... someone’s. I’m not sure who you got these from.”

She places her hands on the bundle... then merely pushes it back. “You think I’d let you leave with just the things you came with? Bah! What kind of grandmother would I be sending you out into the cold without a good coat?”

Grandmother? You noticed nearly everyone else in Wep'keer addressing her as such, but you...? Even if you planned to stay, the title doesn't seem to sit quite right in your mouth. You can’t help but tilt your head a bit, debating how to approach this. “How old do you think I am, Yawa?”

“Old enough to know better." She gives your arm a little thwap before heading for the door, gesturing for you to follow her back inside. "Now you make sure you give those to Kuki before you leave with my list; today is laundry day."

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

You plan to leave tomorrow, which gives you one last day to take care of things. It wouldn’t do you much good to leave before you’re better prepared; you’ve got quite the journey ahead of you, after all.

“When the envoys leave Kamui to talk about the gods,” Akemi says in the morning, watching as you gather your hair up in your hands, “they usually go south. Is that where you’ll go too?”

“It seems like the best place to start,” you muse, half to Akemi and half to yourself, "especially if she isn’t already here.”

“Nippon is pretty big, though... at least Ikken makes it sound like it is.” She’s started rocking on her heels again, wobbling from the brow of the eagle perched on your knee. "What if you can’t find who you’re looking for?”

“Oh, I’ll find her.” You have to; you owe every celestial being dead or alive that much, if not so much more. “Even if it takes a while.” You take the tie from between your teeth, reaching up to blindly loop it around the mass of hair behind you before glancing down to Akemi. “Actually, do you think you could help me? I can pull a much tighter knot with an extra hand.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah! Easy peasy!” Akemi eagerly bounds up your arm to the familiar place atop your head, scuttling to take one end of the tie from your fingers. She plants a foot in the center of the knot to hold it steady, and with how she growls and shuffles, you can only imagine how high she must be trying to pull her end up above her head.

“You did see,” she grunts as the two of you work in tandem, “that Kuki made the wings big enough to cover all your hair by themselves, right?”

“Just trust me, Akemi.” When you feel the main knot is tight enough, you give Akemi a gentle nudge to move; instead she decides to cling to your fingers, giggling as you pull your hand back enough to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Who exactly are you looking for anyway?” she asks, swinging playfully from your thumb as you go to set her back down. “Yawa said something about a goddess. Did she escape the Celestial Plain too?”

You hum a little ‘mhm’ to her as you reach back up to keep working. You do your best to put away the shadow of eight terrible heads and the smell of scorched grass, instead holding onto the image of a shimmering mirror and the many colors of flame swirling around it. The trust in those eyes stares back at you, keeping you centered enough to tamp the lingering fear back down.

“Her name is Amaterasu,” you start softly.

“Origin of all that is good,” Akemi continues, almost as if reciting a prayer, “mother to us all.”

Right, poncles. Friends of the gods. You pause long enough to give a nod in reverence, and you swear the sunlight through the window falls warmer on your skin. “Exactly.”

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Yawa is, in fact, quite cross with you running off before sunrise. She does admittedly relent a bit when you explain the prophecy (even if you do exaggerate a tiny bit on how urgent they usually are), but she’s still upset about coming down from the loft to find you missing. You haven’t been scolded like this since your own grandmother caught you trying to climb a counter twice your height.

Apparently she’s mostly worried about the rest you’re getting... or, perhaps, the rest you’re not getting. Even when you do manage to sleep through the night, she doubts there’s terribly much rest behind it. You want to argue with her that even before this, you never slept as long of stretches at a time to begin with, but you still apologize for worrying her.

“Just be easy on yourself, dear,” she sighs, reaching up to ruffle your hair. “And maybe take a nap at some point.”

.

As you promised Akemi, she shows you through the parts of Wep’keer you missed yesterday. To your surprise, a few of the people from yesterday ask after you, seemingly pleased to hear you’re doing better today. You suspect they’re used enough to this with Kuki, especially with Akemi sitting on your head.

You still can’t tell how most of the villagers quite feel about you on their own. More than likely they just think you’re utterly strange, but in a way that makes them curious. The ones brave enough to talk to you seem especially drawn to your face, but in a menagerie of masks with the neighbors being small silhouettes, you suppose it’s a rare commodity.

“Maybe they find you handsome,” Akemi whispers, and you can’t tell if she’s making a joke or an actual suggestion.

.

“Can I ask about...?” You shift your lunch bowl to one hand, loosely gesturing with the other to Yawa’s mask.

“I’m surprised you haven’t earlier,” she muses, settling next to the hearth with her own meal. “It’s how we stay close to the spirits, protected from the evil ones and connected to the good. Wear them since we reach five years old, when we’re gifted our first. You’ve probably noticed the children with them.”

Five? You knew from the gods that mortals in Nippon live much shorter lives than those of the moon, but it still strikes you as incredibly young. “How do the gifters know what to pick for them?”

Yawa offers a casual shrug. “The same way a parent knows what to name their child, I suppose.” That could mean so many things, and yet at the same time, you think you understand.

.

You doubt it'll work, but you do try to honor Yawa’s suggestion for a nap in the afternoon. Even if you don't end up getting any sleep, it might at least do some good to sink your chin in your hand and rest your eyes for a bit. Especially with how rough your nights have been lately...

At some point in the stillness, you hear Yawa chuckle to herself. There’s quiet footsteps behind you, and you force yourself not to react as she settles a quilt around your shoulders. You never do fully doze off, but you're content to sit by the hearth and let your mind drift to the crackle of the fire and the shuffle of chores.

.

“Be honest with me,” you ask Akemi one evening, studying her from her perch upon your knuckles. “The first night... did you really come to see Kuki, or were you following me?”

Akemi hems and haws as she sways back and forth. “Well, you said all of your friends were...” She can’t finish the sentence, making a noncommittal noise as she forces herself to move on. “... which meant you were all alone. And you seemed like you could really use a friend here, too.” There’s a beat, then she adds one more thought: “Especially since you thought the Oina were going to kill you.”

Leave it to a child to bruise a man’s pride on top of the rest of his wounds. Maybe it’s good that said pride is no longer too numb to actually feel that particular punch. “Thanks Akemi.”

.

You are working the knots out of your hair when Kuki finally emerges from the loft. She glances away when you reflexively look up, hugging whatever she has close to her chest. This time, though, she’s braving peeks out the corner of her eye.

“Duck your head a bit?”

An odd request, but you comply, even shutting your eyes for good measure. Kuki nestles something on your head, and you blink your eyes open when you feel something settle over your shoulders and down your back. She takes a step back as you reach behind you, pulling around a length of cloth with the ends cut and dyed into feathers like a great wing. Actually it’s not one wing but two, draping around you like a veil.

“If the demons are going to hunt you,” Kuki says, “then you are going to need a way to hide.” Wait, did she...? You go to reach for whatever’s holding it on top of your head for a better look--“Yours is not for your face.”--and immediately put your hands back down. She stoops to hand you a bundle, and you do your best not to look her in the eye as she places it into your arms. “We asked the spirits for their blessing, as with any mask, but I don’t know what they’ll do for someone who’s already close to the gods.”

The bundle is your actual clothing, good as new. Seriously, you can’t even find where they had originally been torn. She’s even replaced the straps on your geta. Kuki fidgets when you get to your feet, but calms when you offer her a grateful bow. “Thank you, Kuki. Truly.”

Kuki’s words have left her, but she does offer you a little bow back. Only when she disappears back up the ladder again do you dare investigate. Your hands feel the shape of a beak, and when you pull the entire thing from your head, you find yourself staring into the carved face of an eagle.

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Your nightmares that night are somehow even worse than they were the first few days. Among the sea of the dead, the Oina stand in frozen statues, and the wind shrieks with screaming from celestial and mortal alike. You should be dead, but at the same time you can’t die yet. Your mind is a frenzy, your visions scratching at the inside of your skull so furious and wild that you swear it near claws its way out--

You wake with a start, near bolting upright the moment sleep releases its hold on you. Adrenaline shoots down your arms like lightning as you scrub at your eyes, and your mind keeps racing long after your heart slows back down. That damn prophecy is fluttering in your head like a netted bird, refusing to settle even after the rest of your body does. 

A glance out the window proves it to still be dark, but fuck it; you not waiting to deal with this anymore. You’re getting at least one weight off your mind.

You barely even remember pulling on your boots before you’re out the door. The moon is going down, and there’s not much really helpful light left before dawn, but the dark’s never been a problem for you anyway. Okay, think: if you were patrolling a village near dawn, where would you likely be stationed? Well, if you were back yet to begin with. Sota did say it could be well into morning until the hunting party returned (and even then, they might have retired to bed first). With how your head is buzzing, though, you’re near ready to wait until the sun’s fully up if you have to.

The sun actually does start to come up while you search one of the upper paths, but as you turn a corner for the next slope, you nearly crash into the wolf just around it. The both of you yelp; your hands go up as the guard drops into a snarling crouch, giving you a good view at the owl mask perched on her forehead. Just what you’re looking for.

“You--? Gods, with your hair doing that, I almost mistook you for a ghost.” You’re not really sure what Akari is talking about, but it doesn’t matter right now: she cautiously straightens back up to stare at you, even if her hackles don’t fully lay back down. “What are you even doing out here? It’s barely dawn.”

“I know; I couldn’t sleep. Listen.” You carefully crouch down to get more to her level. “I had a prophecy yesterday.” Her ears immediately perk at the words, and you try to look her in the eyes as the blizzard fills your mind again. “Twin owls at twin peaks on the coldest day. A spell is spoken, and it calls fire from the mountains--”

“Wait.” The word is barely out of her mouth before she shifts back to human form, tugging you by the arm to pull you back on your feet. “You should be telling this to Moshiri, not just me. Especially if you claim to know a spell--”

“I don’t know how it goes.” Akari shoots you a look and lets your arm go, but instead of pulling back you gently clap your hands on her shoulders to look her in the eye more firmly. “But you will.”

The knot in your mind undoes itself as Akari double-takes, and you lift your hands to let her back up a step. “Me?” She tilts her head at you, clearly incredulous. “Why me? I’m just one of the guard.”

“I don’t know. Prophecies rarely show me the ‘why’ behind them.” That only makes her more suspicious, and you could really do without the way she’s starting to squint. “Look, I may not know why, but I do know. And you will too when the time comes.” Your shoulders drop in defeat when her expression doesn’t change. “Just trust me, Akari? I can’t really do much more than this on the matter.”

You really can’t, and you don’t need to. You’ve done your part; it’s now up to Akari to figure out how she’ll do hers.

Akari is still wary, but she nods a bit, then tilts her head as you run a hand through your bangs. “You look like a weight’s been lifted off of your back,” she observes. “Are prophecies truly that heavy to carry?”

“Not always." This one surprisingly was, but you offer her a half-shrug. “Most of the time, they just hate waiting to be spoken. They get annoying like that.”

“I see.” Something in her gaze shifts, and you realize she’s no longer looking at you, but somewhere over your shoulder. “By the way, did you tell Granny Yawa you were going out this early?”

You don’t like the way she’s asking you that, especially because you swear you now hear fast approaching pawsteps behind you. “She was asleep at the time. How could I?”

Her eyes glimmer, and while you can’t see her mouth behind the mask you’re pretty sure she’s smirking. “Well, I’m no prophet like you, but unless you can pull whatever trick you did on us the first night, I think I foresee you being dragged back by the ears.”

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Unfortunately for you, the half of the patrol you need is on a hunt. They won’t be back until late evening, according to Sota, if not well into the night. “Maybe even morning,” he says, glancing out over the raised path you’ve found him on, “with demons now roaming about.” You have no choice but to wait for them to come back.

"There you are!”

The new voice behind you turns out to be Akemi, near breathless as she bounces up the path to meet you. She all but flops into your palm when you crouch down to pick her up. “Y’know,” she pants, “for someone that looks like you... you were really hard to find!”

Apparently Yawa sent her to find you after hearing from the girl in the square, with an added instruction to make sure you eat something before you come back for the night. Akemi, however, talks you into turning your trek back into a proper tour of Wep’keer, insisting that it’d be better late than never. She eagerly points you this way and that, calling out to anyone she recognizes and eagerly introducing you to anyone who is brave enough to ask.

“You’re making Yawa’s instructions very hard to follow,” you tease between introductions.

“Aw, hush!” Akemi huffs, smacking her tiny hands against the crown of your head as you smother a laugh. “Besides, Bikki’s stand is right across the square from Granny Yawa’s. If we wait a little bit, he’ll probably have a fresh batch of dumplings when we get there!”

At one point, the two of you pass what she calls the ‘playground’. It seems there’s a snowball fight going on, and a mix of pups and children toss and dodge flying snow in all directions. Akemi grumbles about being too small to join in, but your attention is snagged by a successful strike. The pup that’s been hit makes a dramatic show of howling, coughing, and flopping over in the snow; you know he’s just playing dead, but you still find yourself holding your breath until he giggles and rolls back over.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” a girl cries (presumably the one who took the lucky shot). “Get back down! I got you!”

“No way!” he barks, shaking himself off before popping back into a boy’s shape. “Now I get to be one of the throwers!”

“Nuh-uh!” She stamps her foot, huffing angrily. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

Akemi is giggling, but you feel like you’ve suddenly been shot by a stray arrow. You’re supposed to be dead! You’re supposed to be dead... At some point, it’s no longer the children’s voices saying it, and hundreds more begin echoing in your skull from all angles, demanding to know how you escaped and pondering on why it was you. Moshiri’s words remind you about being hunted down, and many voices from the heavens and moon chorus after it: because you should be dead.

Something cold smacks your thigh, and you're tugged back out of your thoughts. “Sorry!” yells a voice, and you blink to find your eyes refocusing. It’s only now catching up to you that a wayward snowball’s hit you in the leg, and the children are now staring at you. “Hey... are you okay? It didn’t hurt that much, did it?”

Come on, you have to say something. If only to get their eyes back off of you. “I... still have a bruise there,” you insist, loosely waving a hand while you brush yourself off. “I’ll be fine; maybe next time I’ll be well enough to play.”

The kids seem satisfied and return to their game. Akemi, however, climbs down your hair to plunk herself on your shoulder. “I thought the bruise was on your other leg,” she whispers.

“It is.” You busy your hands with pulling your coat tighter around yourself. “I think we should go back now.”

“What? But we still have plenty of daylight before--”

“Akemi.” The word is a bit firmer than you intended, and when you shoot her a glance she leans away a bit. This is going from bad to worse, and you force yourself to take a breath before trying to speak again. “Let’s... just go back to Yawa’s. You can show me the rest of Wep’keer tomorrow, okay?”

Maybe it’s because she can now see your face, but Akemi proves quick as usual to catch on. She hums a bit, then scoots a little closer to your ear. “Maybe we should still eat something first?” she suggests quietly. “Granny Yawa will be mad if you try to skip out on a meal, you know.”

You really just want to get out of here (and, let’s face it, Akemi wouldn’t be able to stop you if she tried), but she has a point: Yawa would definitely scold the two of you if you came back unfed. You’re pretty sure she picked that argument on purpose, but all the same you have to admit defeat. “... okay. But no detours. Please.”

That seems to satisfy her, and Akemi wastes no time climbing back atop your head to guide you once again. Instead of waving over the people you pass, she explains to curious onlookers that you’re not feeling your best right now and need some space. To your surprise, they seem to understand right away; as if they’re used to this sort of thing, despite having never seen you before in their lives. You let her do the talking when you get to the merchant, as you’re still running a bit on autopilot as you’re handed the pouch and sent on your way.

“Kuki gets overwhelmed really easily,” she explains when you’re mostly out of earshot from the square. “Though she isn’t good at talking her way out of things like you seem to be.”

“Right, the two of you are friends.” Given what little you know of Kuki to begin with, this must be a regular occurance for her... even if it isn’t for you. “You must be used to... this, then.”

“I mean, a little. But you’re pretty different from Kuki.” She hops down to your arm before you can push Yawa’s door open, tipping her head back to look up at you. “You still seem kinda rattled,” she murmurs. “Did something spook you up in town?” She gasps a little, then whispers a new thought: “Did you get a vision? Like you did in Yoshpet?”

You kind of wish she hadn’t said that; now that prophecy is fluttering awake too, future and past mixing in your head like oil and water. “... I do have a prophecy, but I received it before you caught up with me. It’s... hard to explain what happened at the playground, Akemi.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The thought of trying to sort any of your head out loud threatens makes your stomach churn along with it. You try to push the feeling back down; you don’t need that on top of everything else ringing in you. “Not really.”

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

It has been a full week since you arrived in Wep’keer, and Yawa says you’re recovering well. Your shallower scrapes have already healed away, and the wounds that remain bandaged, while tender, are all but closed up by now. Most are a pink that promises to fade, but a few have become locked into the telltale texture of scarring. You know you'll probably have a handful more yet when this is all over.

Kuki is still in the loft. You haven’t exactly seen her since she gave you her warning, and while Yawa and Akemi have both gone up at least once, she has yet to come down. Your curiosity is starting to eat at you, but both of them are determined to keep her work a secret.

"Is this goddess of yours so impatient that now you can’t wait?” Yawa playfully smacks your arm--then instantly apologizes when she’s hit a spot that’s still sore. “Patience, Waka,” she murmurs, gently tending to the bruise, “she’ll be ready by the time you are.”

"Oooor,” you offer through clenched teeth, “this is all a scheme to get me to stay longer. Despite what Moshiri said.” You prop your chin against the other fist, before raising an eyebrow at her. “Did Akemi put you two up to this? I won’t tell her if you tell me.”

Yawa studies you for a moment, then chuckles softly to herself. “It’s good to see your personality emerge after all of this.” She then leans over and bops you square on the forehead. “Even if you’re proving to be a bit of a handful.”

.

Despite her scolding (or maybe resulting from it?) Yawa does give you free reign of the village without her supervision. Not that you’d really know where you’d go, but she figures it’s better than being cooped up in the last few days of your recovery. She all but shoos you out the door, insisting you stretch your legs and take in the fresh air before it snows again.

You’re starting to wonder if Yawa forgot you don’t exactly live here, or really know anyone well enough to warrant a visit. (Couldn’t she have at least sent Akemi with you?) At least you had enough mind to grab Pillow Talk before she all but shoved you out the door; you do know a good place to sit and play for a while...

"It’s been colder than usual ever since the demons came, I swear,” murmur a passing couple as you trek down the pathway. “I don’t know what we’re going to do in the darker months...”

A gust of wind forces you to shield your eyes, but when you lower your arm you’re somewhere else. The shapes of twin peaks are barely visible through the blizzard, and owl hooting reverberates in your core. A voice is chanting behind you over the howling wind, though you don’t know what it’s saying. You don’t need to.

You blink just as the mountains erupt into fire, and suddenly you’re back in the village. Everything about the storm has vanished... except for the very familiar sensation settling in the back of your mind like a nesting bird.

“Hey, are you alright?” Something tugs at your sleeve, and you realize a girl is holding your arm, and seeming very relieved when you glance back at her. “Gods be good, you looked like you left your body for a flash. You’re the man staying with Granny Yawa, right? Do we need to fetch her?”

Quite the opposite. You actually know exactly who you need to talk to this time.

You know how you’ll be repaying Wep’keer.

[riichiigo]

@journeyofthemoonprophet hmmmm...yeah, love her

[journeyofthemoonprophet]

Sometime near the latter half of the week, the chief requests an audience with you. You’ve since learned the names of the guards, and recognize the seal and weasel masks fetching you as Sota and Kei. They lead you up the winding paths to the hut at the top of the village, trading places with Akari and Burai as you are escorted in.

Moshiri hums as you enter, the wagtail mask trained right on you as you bow in greeting. The two guards take up their posts at his side, Sota remaining human and Kei slipping back into his wolf form. Moshiri gestures for you to join them on the mats, and you settle across the way at the hearth.

“It is good to see you recovering,” he says, and while his voice is still firm, the feeling behind them is genuine. “You are looking much better than you did at the start of the week.”

“I owe it to Wep’keer’s generous hospitality.” You keep your hands on your knees as you bow again, and this time you’re not scolded for doing so. “If I had the means to repay you all, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

“You need not worry yourself over that,” he insists as you lift your head, “I understand your position. Though that is what I wanted to speak with you about.”

That could mean many things, but you’re not sure which one. For now you remain silent, patiently waiting for Moshiri to continue as he settles into a more comfortable seat.

"I have been thinking about your story. And while it sounds like an unbelievable tale, I doubt you are lying about any of it.” The chief gives an uneasy hum; apparently what’s coming is not going to be pleasant. “Though if it is true... I doubt the leader of the demons who ambushed you will be happy that someone managed to get out alive.”

The thought had admittedly been in the back of your mind for a while, but now it’s being dragged to the forefront. After all, your nightmares of the dead have been lit by the glow of red lines, their bloody glow providing no warmth.

“A demon like that will likely stop at nothing to hunt you down,”  Moshiri murmurs, and while it’s hard to track his eyes behind the mask, you’re pretty sure he’s staring less at your face and more at the golden hair surrounding it. “And as sympathetic as I am to your plight, oracle of the gods, Wep’keer would be unable to hide you forever. Not without risking heavy costs.”

You know the chief doesn’t know why, but the little nerve that’s been struck can’t help but take the last part personally. Did he find out, somehow? (Maybe you muttered it in your sleep?) And if he did, does he really think you want these people’s blood on your hands too? You have to press your hands tighter against your knees to keep them from shaking, fingers curling into the fabric.

“I didn’t plan to stay.”

The words are out of your mouth so quick, it catches everyone by surprise. All of them tilt their heads in varying curious degrees. You take a moment to catch your breath, and hold the familiar image of white fur and red swirls in your mind to ground you as you continue.

“Before all of this, a friend of mine came to the mortal plain upon hearing one of my prophecies. Knowing her, she is still here waiting for it to come to pass.” You tilt your head back at the chief and offer a little smile. “It’d be rude not to at least see it through too, no?”