by SilhouetteStation » Thu Jul 08, 2021 3:47 pm
Username: SilhouetteStation
Name: Ezukai
• • • • •
The temple is crumbling. You've spent days trekking through this thick, untamed swamp forest, battling against thick vines and clouds of insects. Murky swamp water reached your knees, seeping into your boots and making the journey much more frustrating than you wanted it to be. You took your time because you had to, and really, all it's done is hardened your resolve. Each morning you've tightened your laces, strapped on your pack, and carried on. The burning in your legs and chest was nothing compared to the anger smoldering in the depths of your mind. You haven't let that beast awaken yet; the time wasn't right.
But now here you are.
Your hands are filthy, nails caked with mud, dirt smeared on your cheek and leaf debris tangled in your hair. The vines and insects and bogs are behind you. Underfoot, the ground has hardened into compact earth. Ahead, the ground disappears into a misty abyss. Nothing but a rope bridge connects this land to the rocky island you've been searching for, seeming to float in a sea of fog. The stone temple is silent. It's as though nothing exists behind it; like you've found the edge of the world, and this is all that lives beyond. Approaching the bridge brings no surge of confidence. Some of the planks are broken, and the rope looks like it could snap at any moment. The posts dug into the dry ground shift slightly when you touch them. But there's also another feeling there; a slight spark, a sting in your fingertips. A kind of enchantment has been placed on this bridge; it will not break.
Of course you can sense it. Takes one to know one, right?
And with that bitter thought and a humorless smile, you go on.
It sways and creaks beneath your weight but, as you predicted, it does not break. The moment you step off, the world seems to go silent. It's like you've entered a different, timeless realm, and you hate that it feels familiar. The only sounds are footsteps and breathing, both your own, and it seems to solidify the fact that you are totally and utterly alone right now. It's not like you haven't felt like this before. But it's strange, almost, feeling like this without the sensation of strangers eyes burning into your back, or whispering just out of earshot. But you won't be alone much longer, not if you've got the words right and the prayer works. And then...well.
You've got questions, and you're not leaving without answers.
If getting here was a trek, making it up these stairs is a hike. This whole place is winding stairs, cracking walls, and overlapping pathways. With each minute that goes by, the more you feel like you're going in circles. Some stairs are chipped, some broken away completely, some cracked by thick, dry vines. Any trees are dull, thin, roots intertwining with the rock and tripping up your weary feet. Sometimes arches rise up over your head; other times the walls vanish, and there's nothing between you and the drop into nothing. You don't look down. You don't look back. This place was made to test people. To keep them wandering for hours on end on a seemingly endless search. The entire place is a puzzle, a riddle, and it's designed to frustrate you. But it's also made to be solved, and that's what you're doing to do.
But now, finally, a change from the sameness. Carvings appear on the walls. You don't stop, but your pace does lessen. Seeing these images, this doglike face, causes a surge of emotion to well up in your chest. Your throat seems to tighten. Maybe it's anger, more than anything. Anger and confusion. You reach out to brush your fingertips against the rough, cold stone, and feel another spark. Without even thinking, you turn to look over your shoulder. There's no one there. You keep walking but, from that point on, you get the sense that this place is waking up.
What feels like days is only a few hours, and then you're there, at the top. As quietly as you can, you walk through a cracked archway and reach the top of the temple. The main shrine opens up before you. Tall walls of stone on each side, covered in more carvings and thick tree roots. The dark foliage reaches up to create a rough canopy. No birds sing, no wind ruffles the leaves. On the far side is where the statue sits. The same doglike figure in all it's glory, with sharped claws and wild gaze. It seems to watch you as you approach. A raised slab sits at its feet. An old incense burner is there. Ancient, but whole.
Your hands are trembling as you kneel. The cold seeps through your clothes, chilling your bones. Fumbling, you open your backpack and pull out the supplies you've carried all this way. Incense sticks. Flint. Even as you begin to set up the burner, you can't quiet believe that you're here. You found Ezukai's temple. You found the shrine of, quite possibly, the oddest sprite to exist in the world. You know the lore of regular sprites, their power, their connection to nature. You've spent hours reading every piece of text about Ezukai that you can get your hands on; old notes, snatches of information, everything that's ever been written about them. Because they are bizarre. Not created by the Original Three. Not connected to nature. It's like they thrived only on knowledge, and riddles, and mischief. One rumor passed down through the years indicated that they built their own shrine, and that it wasn't constructed by any follower. Those now were few; not many said they worshipped Ezukai. Follower or not, people seemed only to come to this shrine when they had questions they wanted answered. Even then, they would receive no straight answers. More riddles, more mischief for the sprite who claimed to know everything, and liked to play with those who came to seek information.
And now here you are.
Head bowed, hood pulled up, you light the incense and clasp your hands together, thumbs aligned on top of your fingers. The sweet smoke fills your nose, spiraling into the air and wreathing itself around the statue. There's a noise above you, like a great beast breathing air into it's cold, crumbling lungs. It feels like you're being watched. A silent entity urges you to speak, and so you begin to recite the Sprites' Prayer.
"From Sky above in kingdom cloud,
to depths and sparkling Sea.
Earth in tree and grassland hills,
I give my praise to Three.
To all their sprites created
from cloud and leaf and dew;
who help to shape the world around,
I give also praise to you.
Now at this shrine I kneel
with your incense lit with care;
I wait for your sacred presence
with these words..."
Your throat constricts slightly. "With these...these words..." You pause again, swallowing hard.
The atmosphere in the temple seems to intensify. A weight settles on your shoulders, and you can almost imagine claws digging into your skin. They're waiting for you to finish, you know, but it feels like your mouth has gone dry. You know what you're meant to say - you've been repeating it in your head for weeks like a mantra - but suddenly it doesn't seem right. The words don't feel right anymore. You've been waiting to meet this sprite for years. If you're going to do it, you don't want to do it through repeating someone else's prayer. It needs to be your prayer, your words, no matter how unpolished they may be. But will they come, if the ritual isn't carried out like tradition?
You don't know, but what you do know is that you haven't come here for nothing. You force yourself to relive those memories of judging eyes and gossiping voices. You think of your Mother, of her unconditional love towards such a thing as you. Of your Father, who chose to care for you as his own. You need answers to all of it. You need to know why you're here.
So you begin to speak. Your own words; your own kind of prayer.
"Ezukai," you whisper. "I have so many questions that I hope you have the answers to. I know I'm messing this up and not saying what I'm supposed to, or maybe I am supposed to do it this way so it means something, I don't...I don't know. And...and I know you're known for your tricks, and your games, and your riddles, but...that's not what I need. I need answers," you add, almost in a growl. "Proper answers. So, if you're prepared to give me that...please. Come to me now."
If it's possible, the stone beast exhales. You breathe in an odd smell, perfumed and musty, like incense from years past. A hollow, crackling laugh echoes from its mouth, slowly morphing into something like a low croon. "I'm intrigued," a voice says, deep and husky. "It's been a long time since anyone has chosen to visit at the first place of my worship. Many do not bother with the journey. But you, so young, so serious...you have my attention."
You didn't know what you expected them to sound like, but hearing their voice sends a jolt down your spine. You turn, slowly, with your head still bowed and hood still pulled up to hide your face. They're standing close by; if you stepped forward, you could touch them. You stare at the long legs, the bare feet, the long tail gently swishing from side to side. Your hands are still clenched together, white at the knuckles, and you know they'll probably take it as a sign of respect instead of a sign of self control. Idly, you wonder if they'll recognize you.
"I cannot promise to answer each question in full," Ezukai continues, with a hint of teasing. "I'm a very busy sprite, of course. There are many places for me to be, many prayers to listen to. Many people have need of my extensive knowledge." They chuckle, as though at their own private joke. It irks you. "And so I say, you are welcome for my presence. I am prepared to be your audience, and hear your questions, at least...until I am bored. Whenever you're ready."
They don't know you, not one bit. You've known them for less than five minutes, and you severely dislike them. Not quite hate; not yet. But they annoy you. For so long now you practiced your questions, cycled through hundreds of them for different scenarios, but part of you doesn't even care now. You know you're not going to get what you wanted. They're not going to answer properly. They're going to joke, and sneer, and tease. Suddenly those answers aren't as important. Your sudden desire now, burning and bitter, is for satisfaction.
"How is it," you begin, in a restrained voice, "that you, the sprite who doesn't even need to exist, who probably exists by accident, thinks they have the right to act high and mighty as though they're as powerful as the Three? Sitting up here in your lonely temple with your walls breaking around you, with nothing to show for yourself other than nasty tricks and false hope. Like all of that is something to be proud of. Joke sprite indeed."
There's a shift in the atmosphere; it's tense enough to cut it with a knife. You certainly delivered on the shock factor. Ezukai jerks as though they've been slapped. Too stunned to speak, you take the opportunity to continue.
"What I don't understand is how you have any power at all. You're not connected to the world like the other sprites. Really, it's hard to believe how you're all related. Are you related? Or were you just a mistake? I'm sure you never get invited to the family reunions. Who would want you around? All you'd do is tell stories, pretend you know everything, when you don't."
Ezukai finds his voice. Your head is still bowed but you can see him swell up, chest puffed out, arms rigid and fingers clenched into fists at their sides. When he speaks, his voice is booming and full of rage. "You insolent little brat!" they snarl. "You come here to my temple, to my shrine, and you dare speak to me with such disrespect? You insult me and my power? Who do you think you are?"
You laugh. They don't expect it, and it seems to throw them. Your cackling echoes in the temple, bouncing back from the walls. Tears form in the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and frustration. "You should know!" you say, almost shouting. "If you're as wise as you say you are, then you should know! But you don't!"
"My knowledge is matched by none-"
"Then tell me, your greatness," you interrupt, laughter subsiding, the earlier bitterness returning to your voice, "tell me. What possessed you to have a relationship with a mortal, when you know it's forbidden for sprites to do so? And here's a good head scratcher; do you know how sprites and mortals have children? No one else does. I don't believe you do either but go on, have a go."
A few things happen at the same time.
You throw back your hood and take all of them in. The golden face. The overgrown teeth. Those eyes. A spark seems to run between the two of you, connecting you for just a split second. Your eyes are glaring. Theirs widen in visible wonder. You take that step forward and swing; your fist connects with their jaw, knocking them backwards, but they're too stunned to react.
You won't get the answers you want, not from them, but you're here. In all your determination and furious glory, you're here. And you have to ask the question you've been asking yourself for your entire life.
"How do I exist?"
Last edited by
SilhouetteStation on Thu Jul 22, 2021 9:23 pm, edited 10 times in total.
