The wind carried a soft, damp warmth. Though the temperature should have been far more pleasant than what she was used to, the sensation clinging to her skin felt unfamiliar. The only thing she could tell, even indoors, was that the sunlight was weak. Her walks lasted just a little longer than her usual routine, and that much was a pleasure.
Over the past month or so, she wondered just how much of an adventure she had been on. Always shut away in the manor, living a life of doing nothing but being worshipped — she was accustomed to being revered by others, took it as a matter of course, and yet found it unbearably dull. Whenever someone desired the position, she had always been ready to step aside. And yet her very existence had robbed them of that opportunity.
Called "the shrine maiden" over and over, she had forgotten even her own true name. Had she yielded the seat, she would have been at a loss for what name to give herself.
It was finally coming to an end.
She was simply passing through what could only be described as sluggish time. This, she thought, must be the final reprieve.
From within the room, veiled by curtain upon curtain, came the rustle of fabric. When she looked to see what it was, a girl was peeking out with half her face, watching her.
The girl's name was Jazuguru — it meant "spring flower."
She had been brought here about a year ago and was apparently born unable to speak.
It would be tasteless to ask about the circumstances that had brought her here.
Her features were lovely and well-proportioned, but her limbs were thin — it was plain she lacked proper nourishment. She had heard the girl could not read, but her hearing was intact, so she understood what was said to her. The lack of education was, in its own way, convenient.
When the shrine maiden beckoned, Jazuguru approached with delight. There were no guests today. Over the past few days the shrine maiden had been bedridden with illness and unable to spend time with Jazuguru. She needed to give the girl some attention.
The shrine maiden smiled at the girl who came to her so happily. She got up gently from her bed and retrieved the tools she had placed at the side of the room. Among them were pigments. Scooping up red pigment on her fingertip, she painted it onto the girl's forehead. Jazuguru bore it happily, content to let things unfold as they would.
Perhaps it was because she had no one to talk to, or perhaps because she lacked an education — the girl seemed somewhat more childlike than her appearance suggested.
Once she had finished painting the girl's face red, the shrine maiden produced sheepskin parchment. She arranged the dyes on the desk and handed Jazuguru a quill made from a waterfowl's feather.
"What dreams did you have today?"
When the shrine maiden asked, Jazuguru began to draw with her clumsy hands. Without voice or writing, her only means of communication was these rough sketches.
Once she started drawing, the girl became absorbed in her work. However, she couldn't stay in the shrine maiden's room forever. It was nearly time for the meal.
"Go back to your room."
She gathered the paper and pigments together and handed them to Jazuguru. The sheepskin parchment was unwieldy, and Jazuguru couldn't hold it all, dropping several sheets. As she picked them up, she looked up at the shrine maiden with those imploring eyes, wanting to stay longer, but there was nothing to be done. The shrine maiden stroked her head more gently than usual.
"We can't stay together forever. You can draw on your own, can't you?"
Seeing Jazuguru give a small nod, the shrine maiden smiled.
Some time after Jazuguru left, the attendant came. The shrine maiden called her the fugeki. The fugeki — the word meant much the same thing as "shrine maiden." She, too, must have been one of those who had forgotten her name, just like the shrine maiden. She had inherited the role from the previous fugeki and had now been at the shrine maiden's side for nearly twenty years.
"Shrine maiden" — the word had originally meant "child of the god."
She recalled what the previous fugeki had once told her. If one was to serve the child of the god, then being called fugeki was a fitting title. Hearing the voice of the divine...
it was her work, after all.
The "child of the god" eventually came to be called "shrine maiden." Was it because only women were ever chosen, or because men simply ceased to be selected — which was it, she wondered.
The shrine maiden, too, believed herself to be worthy of the title.
She had been discovered by the previous fugeki when she was still a child. Before she could even form memories, she was taken in and raised deep within the inner sanctum of the palace.
She was told she was special. White hair, white skin, red eyes. Because she lacked color, she was said to be able to hear the voice of the divine.
Every gesture she made became a prophecy, and the fugeki would read its meaning.
The white shrine maiden's divinations never failed. She was the one person before whom even the king dared not raise his head — no, perhaps she could not even be called human. She sat as a god in the depths of the palace.
The shrine maiden had no need for learning. Her very existence was supposed to be supreme. Generation after generation, no fugeki had ever taught the shrine maiden. The fugeki who raised her must have been an eccentric.
And yet, there was no denying that she had been utterly ignorant of the world.
A shrine maiden had to retire upon reaching puberty. What would happen once she was no longer a shrine maiden? Unable to imagine it, she passed the age of ten, then fifteen.
She had heard that puberty varied from person to person, and that among the shrine maidens of old, there were some who never experienced it. So it was nothing unusual — she simply had to continue as a shrine maiden. And yet, she could not help but notice that there were differences beyond the mere absence of menstruation.
There was no feminine development at all. Her breasts never swelled; only her height and limbs kept growing. However sheltered she might have been, she knew the difference between male and female. When she asked the fugeki, she was told, "You are special." She accepted that answer, but after that, she was made to eat unfamiliar foods.
Days and months passed with her knowing nothing, understanding nothing. Whether her reputation as a shrine maiden had grown, those who sought her divinations only increased. She was told she could behave as she wished during readings, but must never speak a word. All intermediation was handled by the fugeki.
That fugeki, too, fell ill around the time the shrine maiden passed twenty. It was old age, but having never witnessed a person's death, the shrine maiden could not truly comprehend it. In the ailing fugeki's place came the current fugeki. He was the previous one's grandson.
The elderly fugeki told the shrine maiden why she had never reached puberty, why her body was not feminine.
The shrine maiden had been born in a small village — a verdant, lush place amid the sandy expanses of Saou. It was a village prepared as a haven for retired shrine maidens, and many of its villagers carried the blood of shrine maidens past.
There must have been white-haired shrine maidens in the past, too. It was there that she was born.
Male.
As a boy.
She thought it was some kind of joke. It wasn't funny — were they mocking her?
But the fugeki continued in a hoarse voice.
The king at the time was a crude ruler. He spoke the foolish words of waging war on foreign lands while Saou prospered as a hub of trade. His ministers tried desperately to calm him, but the headstrong young king would not listen.
The only one who could restrain the king was the other pillar of power — the shrine maiden. But the shrine maiden of that era did not hold much influence, and she was already approaching the age of retirement.
When a new shrine maiden was born, she would meet with the king. If she was white-haired and special, the significance ran all the deeper.
The fugeki used the shrine maiden to depose the foolish king. The shrine maiden
Male.
They declared she did not qualify as one. Just as they would with a male kid goat, they had castrated the shrine maiden.
The shrine maiden
Female.
Was made into, and brought before the king. A baby fussing was hardly unusual, and the shrine maiden had reportedly cried from the unfamiliar atmosphere. The fugeki seized on this as proof, declaring the divination's result: "Unfit for the king."
It was a confession that felt as though her entire life had been denied. She had lived for over twenty years as the "shrine maiden," yet in that moment, everything turned out to be a lie.
Nothing more than a pawn prepared to depose the king—yet all this time, she had believed she was special.
She wanted to hurl insults at the dying fugeki. But the shrine maiden was so ignorant she didn't even know what insults were. A modicum of knowledge wouldn't have mattered. Even that meager education had probably been given only so the fugeki could ease her own guilt.
With the death of the previous fugeki, the shrine maiden relocated to a place near the village where she had been born, ostensibly for convalescence. The previous fugeki had been exceptional, manipulating the shrine maiden puppet masterfully and keeping the kingdom stable. The grandson fugeki was talented too, but he lacked experience. It might have been more accurate to say the shrine maiden was fleeing.
In fact, with the change of fugeki, there had been silent pressure for the "shrine maiden" to be replaced as well. Several well-born young women came to the shrine maiden as apprentices. Among them,
Airin
was also there.
She would have given up the position of "shrine maiden" at any time, yet she clung to it nonetheless. She was a being created solely to become the "shrine maiden"—a being whose very name had been forgotten.
Airin took a liking to the shrine maiden, but most of the other apprentices likely found her to be nothing but an inconvenience.
Just when the shrine maiden realized she could not keep up this pretense of convalescence forever, a messenger arrived from the village where she had been born. The messenger carried a baby swaddled in white. The infant's skin was so pale you could see its veins.
"Lady Shrine Maiden."
The familiar voice startled the shrine maiden. Standing before her was the fugeki. She had been lost in memories of the past.
"Are you... truly certain about this?"
A bowl of porridge sat before her. Right—she had asked someone to prepare a meal.
"It would be strange to delay any longer."
"..."
The fugeki's face was grim. The shrine maiden thought she understood everything, so why did he wear that expression? She clenched her fist tight and looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
"I will eat alone. So please, leave."
She could only smile. There was nothing else she could do.
"With you, I can leave the rest in your hands."
She was slowly bringing the spoon to her lips when she noticed something — the outside was rather noisy.
Furrowing her brow, she exchanged a glance with the shaman, and then the doors swung wide open.
"Pardon the intrusion!"
In the Rei tongue, she had announced her bold entrance — the newcomer was a petite woman. A court lady attached to the physician, she had made house calls many times before. She wasn't supposed to come today, as far as anyone knew.
"Th — that's rude!"
The shaman stepped forward to block her, but the court lady slipped past him with ease and appeared right before the shrine maiden. What was the security doing?
"Not rude. This is my work!"
This time, the girl switched to the Sa'u tongue. It was broken. While they were still stunned, trying to figure out what she was saying, she snatched the spoon away. Then, bringing the porridge to her mouth, she gulped it down.
The shrine maiden and the shaman both turned pale.
The court lady grinned, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the shrine maiden.
"Delicious. Mushroom porridge."
The court lady declared it with a triumphant expression.