[ayase saki]

Spring of 1016, Law Country Sasaki Ayaka had been given a twelve-week sabbatical. Nadeshiogakure mental health services were more than happy to provide; her psychiatrist had been picking at the knotted threads of her mind for months, and was deeply satisfied that Ayaka had both acknowledged the need for a medical leave of absence for her mental health, and actively requested it. A sign of treatment working as intended, he reasoned, and he signed off on all the necessary papers without delay, telling her that he looked forward to seeing her refreshed upon her return. She spent one month at the Hana no Kuni temple as an acolyte. She’d earned the Blessing unusually early into her weeks of worship, ardently reciting the prayer of devotion as she carefully, fastidiously flayed the skin from the soles of a farmer’s feet, then forced him to march across hot coals until he died. She’d lost it forty-eight hours later. Genjutsu was too appealing, too ingrained into her training, and she’d used a technique without thinking to win a bout against a fellow acolyte. The loss of the Blessing was swift and agonizing; this, in the end, was why she was chosen to make the pilgrimage. Her Inquisitor saw promise, but also folly. In the heart of Jashin-sama’s homeland, she could make her repentance, and truly be born anew. On the thirtieth day precisely, she sailed out to Law Country with a dozen others of Jashin-sama’s faithful in tow. It was a long journey, fully on the other side of the world; they went north, sailing up and around the western continent for weeks until they finally docked on the shores of Law Country. The journey to the temple itself was not so long, and Ayaka was awed into silence when the group reached its stairs; trembling with anticipation, hoping beyond hope that the redemption she sought was somewhere inside. Sasaki Ayaka was fourteen years old, and this was the beginning of the end of her life.

Kyodai Utsuwa -- 328

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Maligned and respected by their fellows in equal measure, Utsuwa had earned themselves a thoroughly unusual reputation amongst Jashin's faithful. An expert in prayer, in worship, in eschatology, in theology, but they had not left the temple complex for years. Too weak to offer up sacrifices. Too isolated to draw new souls in.

So the prophet wrote, studied, rambled, and spiraled deeper into the darkness of their own mind, so that it could be filled with only Jashin's light.

But there was one task that even Utsuwa was entrusted with. Leading the wayward faithful in atonement.

The sun stabbed at their eyes, long since used to candlelight and darkness. Perhaps they would need a hat if they were called to serve beyond the temple.

"Well come, ye pilgrims, ye faithful, ye penitent," Utsuwa stepped out from behind a pillar, greeting the group with a wide smile and open arms. Hardly an impressive figure for a more senior sibling - bare feet, greasy and matted hair that had not seen razor or comb for years. Fingers stained with ink, the small kimono loose on their thin and tiny form.

"Word precedes ye. Some among thee hath sinned, hath strayed. Thou wishest to receive the blessing anew. To partake once more of Jashin-sama's boundless grace. Rejoice! Take heart! Forsooth, thy salvation is come anon." Their wide red eyes studied the assembled faithful, eyes resting on a teenaged girl. Likely of a similar age as they when they arrived on this, the only true path.

"Pray tell, what name bearest thou, mine own and wayward sister? What sins, what suffering, driveth thee hence?" Mania danced in their eyes,and their fingers twitched.

Unworthy as they were, they still craved to carve the blessing indelibly into this soul

[ayase saki]

If she had expected anything, Ayaka had expected someone along the lines of her Inquisitor-mentor, the man who had taken her under his wing: tall, imposing yet cool, with a gravitas to his aura that commanded respect from all who interacted with him. The prophet who stepped out from behind a pillar to greet Ayaka’s cohort was none of those things. They were greasy, thin and wiry and dirty as if they hadn’t bathed in a tenday or more, as shifty and twitchy as the cellar rats that Ayaka was in the process of starving out. They spoke like a character out of an old-timey text, and Ayaka looked sidelong at her mentor with a quizzical expression, trying to divine if she was expected to behave this way, too. No divination was forthcoming; her mentor shoved her forward when the prophet spoke to her, sending her stumbling up the steps against her will. The awe she’d felt on approach was swiftly withering away into discomfort, and her weight shifted nervously from hip to hip as she tried to shield herself from the weight of the prophet’s manic red gaze. "Sasaki Ayaka,” she squeaked, her voice coming out an octave higher than she intended. She cleared her through, pitched her voice lower, tried to present a cool, disaffected air. Failed completely. "I, uh—I was given Jashin-sama’s blessing. But I lost it. I used genjutsu.” A brief pause, and then she launched into an explanation—needing to prove to this prophet, as well as her mentor listening in, that it wasn’t her fault really, it was just an honest mistake that anyone could have made. "I was shinobi-trained first so it’s been hard to switch over. I make my sacrifices, I try to follow Jashin-sama’s laws, but I just messed up, that’s all.”

Kyodai Utsuwa -- 304

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Ah, an apostate of blasphemy art thee, Sasaki-kun. I canst claim not to understand the allure of those foul magicks. Yet take heart - Jashin-sama forgives much, and will ultimately forgive all." Utsuwa nodded to themselves, appearing to be rather ambivalent to whether or not she was nervous or confident, concerned or unaffected. "Yet mark these words well, wayward sister mine - 'twas no mere lapse of judgment that cost thee the blessing. Took thee the divine into thy hands, and made it profane. 'Tis blasphemy. Heresy. Profanity. Degeneration. A pathway to suff'ring, and naught else." Their wide smile and manic glee in their eyes did not fade in the slightest, cheer and excitement dripping from their every word.

They crossed the distance between them, cocking their head to the side as they suddenly invaded Sasaki's personal space. Staring into her eyes, looking for... something. Devotion. Contrition. Guilt. Madness. Even Utsuwa was not certain.

"Thou must needs pay penance. Repent. Offerings and sacrifices art received by His Beneficence, but replacements for penance they art not." Utsuwa took a step back, allowing Sasaki her personal space again. "Then thou must needs learn wherefore thou'rt in grave need of His blessing. So that thy will shalt be made passing invulnerable to the temptations of thy wretched past." Utsuwa extended a hand towards the temple. "Thou hath much to learn that words canst teach thee not. Come, sister. Come and be reborn anew."