Fallen Feathers
One last feather sat in Kaima’s hand. He turned to me, eyes full of sorrow. Don’t be sad for me, Kaima, we’ve barely even met.
This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.
I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles, Not Quite Dead Enough, and Unbound by the Sea for free.
The world was dead. My world. Heartbeats slowing, I resigned myself to believing that we were both breathing but…
His lips parted, curled back in a frozen cry. Did he die calling for me?
I’d failed us both. Hotaka, I’m sorry.
Above us I felt the hum of magic fade away just like my heartbeat. Thump… Thump… Thump… Thu—
From my ruined body pulled an echo of my soul, clinging to the last remnants of us both. I knew our bodies would wither away but we were more than that and maybe I would meet him again.
Why wasn’t he here too?
I was alone. I wasn’t even sure what I was. My body lay there in pieces, blood and feathers stuck to the stone, and yet I was right here watching. This was different from before, when I soared the skies or had taken the form a bird, or even different from sharing Hotaka’s body.
I just didn’t understand.
And where was Tsukuyomi?
“Suzaku.”
Like an eddy in the wind, I felt the whisper run through me. A call, a summon. Were the gods still watching me? I glanced around to see faces, grey and lifeless as I was.
“Suzaku, come with us.”
“Who are you?”
Pretty smiles betrayed a toothless mouth and stench of rot.
“We’ll take care of you.”
Blackened fingers reached towards me, urging me closer, and I couldn’t find it in me to try and fight them. I felt hollow, empty, numb, and as their fingers found purchase all became nothing.
What are you?
“We are you,” the voice called, giggling with excitement. “Come and join us. We like more.”
Their clouded eyes watched me with a vacant stare, smiling wider as they surrounded me. I could feel a miasma of power, of deathly old malice and the fury of the skies itself. It wound around me and their power became mine. Anger started to flood my senses, my eyes scanning the forest for anyone to unleash it on.
“Shinigami, begone.”
The sky rained, each drop burning my being. We screeched, trying to flee in every direction. Steel blocked our paths. The grey faces howled in agony as they were drenched and faded into nothing. And I remained.
“You,” a deep voice growled. From the cloud of fading grey a figure emerged. “Stay there.”
He was a curious man, dressed as a priest and yet wielding a naginata. The blade at the end of the pole curved into a wicked smile, smeared in black. I watched as he swung it at the rest of those grey faces, following by throwing water high into the air.
Eventually were almost alone. Only Hotaka’s body lay somewhere on the steps alongside the remains of my own.
The man stopped and beckoned me closer, closer to where we lay, blood staining the stone.
I don’t want to see it any more.
“Come,” he called. “I need you to see this.”
Reluctantly, I moved to the grisly spectacle; bloodied feathers stuck to the stone beneath us, and a mangled body still cried to the sky. Why did he need me to see this?
“What do you see?”
I hissed at him. “I see what I don’t want to see. Bodies and blood.”
The man reached out and poured water over them.
“Stop that—”
“What do you see now?”
Rage flooded my mind and I wanted to—the bodies were gone. I stopped. The steps which were dyed crimson now returned to their grey hue.
“Where did they go? What did you do?”
“I showed you the truth.” He turned to face me and bowed low. “My name is Kaima Namikawa. I don’t think you remember me, but, I know you, Suzaku.”
I stared at him, wondering how he could know of me. I’d never met him before. Black eyes stared back strongly, waiting for me.
“You still don’t remember, do you?” Kaima sighed. “Perhaps next time.”
“What do you mean next time?”
He ignored me, however, and walked over to the haiden to pray. I left him and turned my eyes back to the steps. I didn’t understand. Hotaka’s body lay there just moments ago.
Above us the sun began to set, ready to dip behind houses and turning the sky crimson. It was beautiful, and reminded me of being up there, soaring in the skies. It had been so long since I was higher than any human could imagine, viewing them all from above. Until Tsukuyomi came. Everything had been different then. And I’d met Hotaka. Hotaka would have died back then if it weren’t for me, but, now he is dead because of me.
I’m sorry.
I couldn’t save you.
Please forgive me.
“Suzaku.”
A whisper called my name.
“Suzaku, come with us.”
Grey faces surrounded me, beckoning me ever closer. Death and decay enveloped me, hidden behind those grey faces of fury. Inside I too became angry.
I am dead.
I am dead.
I am dead.
“We’re all dead. And it’s their fault! They killed us! They need to pay.”
They will pay.
“Begone, shinigami.”
Screams. Terror. Each face fled or evaporated to nothingness.
“No!” I froze, panicked. “Come back.”
“You don’t need them, Suzaku,” a voice called again.
I turned to face him, angry. “Bring them back.”
“No,” he replied. “They were shinigami, only here to bring evil to the shrine. Do you not remember?”
The man watched me carefully, naginata in hand. Blue hakama and a white kosode showed him to be a priest, although I had never seen a priest wielding such a weapon before.
“Who are you?”
He bowed. “Kaima Namikawa. I am a travelling priest who takes care of shrines such as these, long forgotten and abandoned.
“Forgotten and abandoned,” I repeated.
“Do you remember me now?”
“Remember? What do you mean? We have only just met.”
“Suzaku-sama, would you like to remember?” he asked softly. “I can perform—”
“No.” The words came out before I realised, coming from somewhere deep inside.
“Very well.” He bowed again. “Perhaps next time.”
Next time. Those words echoed in my mind.
“Next time?”
“Yes.” He didn’t offer any other explanation and turned towards the haiden to pray.
“Wait,” I said, following after him. “I—”
Kaima watched me patiently. “Perhaps you would like to pray too?” he offered.
I closed my eyes. Prayer was useless now. How many times had I called for help from the gods, all for them to ignore me. They were the reason Hotaka was dead right now. It was their fault the sky had rained blood as I fell and fell and fell. The gods were the reason I was dead.
“No,” I said, trying to hold back anger. “Prayer will do me nothing.”
Kaima paused, lips ready to fight back my words. He was a priest, of course he would defend his own practice.
Eventually, he managed, “the gods are fallible, just like us, Suzaku. Their power is great and their minds hold much more than we know, but even I know the gods can be wrong. They try their best, and that’s what makes me love them more.”
“It’s their fault,” I hissed. “They killed Hotaka.”
Kaima nodded. “I understand now. You are angry at this, and no wonder. Hotaka-san was important to you. That’s why you are here. But,” he added softer, “you cannot stay here.”
Why would I want to stay here, reminded of all this pain? I would return to the skies if I could, but, I wasn’t even sure if I had the ability now. Nobody knew what happened when suzaku died until it happened. Was I now cursed to roam the lands like this?
Kaima still watched me, black eyes piercing through me. I hated it. I felt so exposed and vulnerable and I couldn’t stand feeling those eyes exposing me further. I turned away and left him to his prayer.
Fire filled my belly now and I was determined to… to… fight? I didn’t know. My mind flooded with mist and fog and all thoughts floated away. Save one.
I would stay here, protecting Hotaka’s body, keeping all away.
I wasn’t ready to let him go.
The morning light shone brightly on the death at my feet. Grey stone stained red. Hotaka was dead and the remnants of my past body lay scattered around him. Vermillion feathers floated in the wind, ripped from my broken wings. I turned away, too numb standing here viewing such heartbreak.
I found myself in front of the stone komainu, their lion-dog mouths full of dried blood. Had they been protecting the shrine? They growled low at me.
“Leave. You bring death with you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I never wished to die here.”
“No,” one replied. “And we saw you try with everything and yet fail. You cannot stay here.”
I backed away, fear and confusion flooding my insides. I cannot stay here. I felt the words in my chest as if they’d been spoken before.
“He doesn’t remember, don’t be too rough on him.”
“What do you mean?” I asked them.
“Wait until Kaima arrives, and ask him to help you remember.” The komainu seemed to stand taller, eyes following a figure climbing the steps. “He is here now. Let him in. Let him guide you.”
I didn’t say a word as he continued to last step, then made his way towards me. Both komainu had gone silent now, though I could feel their intense gaze on us both.
“Suzaku,” he said with a bow. “I didn’t expect to find you here, you’re usually…”
I frowned. “I’m usually...?”
Kaima shook his head. “Don’t worry. Let me introduce myself, my name is Kaima Namikawa.”
“They said you were Kaima, and that I should let you guide me.”
It was his turn to frown then. “Who?”
“The komainu.”
“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, komainu are very intelligent. Only the best for a shrine.” Kaima paused and carefully continued. “They speak of an offer I have given you each time, as I have been here before, many times.”
I snorted. “How can that be? I haven’t been here long. I only just… just…”
“Suzaku,” he said firmly. “Look at me.”
Black eyes watched me, so full of uncertainty. I felt like any movement would have him on guard. I almost wanted to reach for him to see what he did.
“Suzaku of the great skies, you fought a great battle here. I can feel your presence all over the shrine, sad and mournful. You lost a great friend.”
“I did. You walked straight past him as you climbed those bloody steps.”
“No,” he said quietly. “There is no physical body now, just deep remnants of your power.”
“No!” Anger flared inside me. I could see the blood from here!
“Tsukuyomi-sama,” Kaima called out. “You saved Tsukuyomi-sama. Ukemochi-sama was here too. He is grateful for what you did.”
I stared at him. How could he know this?
“Suzaku, something called me to this place. A great evil can be felt from the forest, and the river cries in horror. I have used the sacred water to cleanse this shrine, to get rid of the shinigami who started feasting, who started willing you into nothing. You must remember.”
Shinigami? I…
Grey faces. Lifeless.
But how…
A figure wielding a naginata. Water thrown.
These memories…
My name is Kaima Namikawa.
I am dead.
I can’t remember. Not like this. I was far too weak to hold on, far too dead.
“Do you remember?”
Memories assaulted my mind, seeing Kaima appear day after day, banishing shinigami, nudging me to remember. How many times has he done this now? How many times have I forgotten?
I don’t want to remember.
Hotaka. Someone needed to remember Hotaka and… and…
My vision grew dim. The sky darkened and faded as I was pulled far away once more.
“No.” Kaima growled. “I will not let you forget again. Tsukuyomi-sama! Please hear my call, I need your help. He remembers.”
Kaima’s voice grew quiet now. And I—
White light blinded me. I cried out and tried to flee but I was held fast.
“Suzaku,” a familiar voice soothed. “Don’t fight me.”
“Tsukuyomi?”
“I am here.” Slowly my vision grew until I could see his shape and he smiled at me. “Suzaku, you need to take hold of these memories, of your time here at the shrine. They are painful, but they are still yours.”
Painful? Losing Hotaka was more than that. We’d been together so long his presence became my everything. Together we had done so much. And now I was alone. Tsukuyomi and Kaima stood there but they could never be where Hotaka stood in my heart.
“Once you have done that, Suzaku, then it will be time to let Kaima purify this place. This shrine cannot stay like this, cursed with the evil of bloody murders. Death only brings more death.”
I looked up at him, the same god who had once given me a choice at a new life. “What happens to me?”
Kaima spoke now, standing tall. “I will burn your last remains in appeasement and you will pass on, to wherever loose souls go.”
Silence.
It should have struck me hard, with my mind fighting with every fibre. But, this time I just accepted it. My body was dead, Hotaka was gone, what was really left of me? This echo of my mind clinging onto Hotaka’s dead body? Perhaps it really was time to finally let go.
“Now that you remember,” he continued, “and can listen to us without fading away again, we can help you move on. Before now you were stuck in the moment, stuck with the bodies on the steps.”
I walked away from them back to those bloody steps. Only, they weren’t bloody now. The shrine looked different now, more worn and weary. It too had been battered from what had happened. No wonder the komainu were angry. From the steps my eyes turned to the surrounding forest, the colours now muted and bland from the brilliant greens I had seen with Hotaka’s eyes. I thought it had been a story when I heard it told around the campfire, how everything slowly faded as you fought death and lived again. Was it the price to pay for using magic?
I wasn’t ready to leave this place, my true home. But… What if I could find Hotaka again?
I wish he was here. I miss him.
Kaima padded closer, footsteps soft like the wind drifting by.
“Suzaku-sama,” he said, just as softly. “Hotaka’s life will live on through me. I will make sure his name is known far and wide. And yours. The great suzaku who aided Tsukuyomi-sama, who released him from Ukemochi-sama’s grasp.”
He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. I didn’t feel like talking.
“Amaterasu-sama is thankful too,” he continued. “She came down from the heavens in a blaze of sunlight, blinding Ukemochi-sama. And now the bond is stronger between Amaterasu-sama and Tsukuyomi-sama. The sun and the moon are in harmony once more.”
Together we stood, watching as the sun passed in the sky. Time seemed to fly past, faster than the wings that used to carry me. Before long, it started to lower on the horizon.
“Suzaku-sama?”
I turned to see Kaima. The dying light lit him warmly, despite the lack of colour. “Yes?”
“Once the sun has finished setting, I will light a fire and cleanse this place until it’s safe again.”
The moon—Tsukuyomi—appeared in the sky, big and bright as Amaterasu’s light faded away. Kaima disappeared into the darkness and I was alone. I had been alone before, when I was higher up than any human could understand. I had never missed it, not after I met Hotaka. I thought we would have stayed together until our dying breath, passing with our thoughts holding on to each other. It always left my heart warm to think I wouldn’t do this part alone.
Because, in truth, I was terrified.
Behind me, Kaima had lit a great fire. I could see the flames flickering and the shrine sighing in relief. All would be right again after a cleanse. Fire would purify the great evil that had occurred.
A deep pull from inside dragged me closer, leaving the fateful steps behind once more. Kaima stood, dropping vermillion feathers into the fire. My feathers. One by one the last remnants of my self were being burnt to nothing.
The moon grew brighter. A voice called to me.
“Suzaku, I take your strength and courage and will pass it along to Kaima. He will continue from where you have fallen. You’ve served me well, suzaku of the skies. Thank you.”
Another feather fell from his fingers, floating down into the embers. I wanted to beg him to stop, to let me have just another day. But my voice was empty. I could not speak.
I had no words left, anyway.
Just the cruel ache for my friend.
One last feather sat in Kaima’s hand. He turned to me, eyes full of sorrow. Don’t be sad for me, Kaima, we’ve barely even met.
“Suzaku, I will rename this shrine in your honour and bring it back to life. This will be my shrine until my last breath.”
Thank you.
The last feather fell, swirling in the plumes of hot air.
It was as if I could fly one last time.
My last journey, soaring into oblivion.
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