“Oh, I fear, am I too late?”
I am immortal
Of the gods
Caught between magic and earthly concerns
I am Pandora
Seeking hope’s light from my pit of horrors
My bloody hands cradle a pink rose
The lid to the underworld opens once more
Releasing the pain
With each rusty spike hammered into the wounded heart of the Earth, I suffer
Then an invisible force rips away the heavy lid to this realm
“Did that come from me, did I do that?”
Silent no more… my tumult released.
21st Century Tokyo Japan
Journal entry of Kino Makoto summer of 2014
My family and I are not of the mainstream Shinto tradition. If anything, we are an obscure sect. In the minds of some, we are considered heretics. Our tradition dates back to ancient times well before the establishment of mainstream Shinto.
If you’re curious, just visit the temple and my Obaa-san will tell you all about it and show you the old books, That is, if she likes your auric light.
As for me, I enjoy martial arts and any form of self-defense. I am skilled in the use of katana and other legendary blades.
In respect to the occult and my heritage as an acolyte and warrior mage, I had, from an early age always felt at home with magic. Why you might ask? Because my Obaa-san is a priestess of the order of, Temple Kashiwa, the oak tree and one day that honor will fall to me. When she sat me down under the shade of the sacred tree and told me of my true nature as a Senshi of the element of thunder, I gasped. Many were called it seemed, but few chosen by the Kamis, so I was blessed of Amaterasu and several other Shining Ones.
If anyone had told me I would become a warrior mage destined to awaken to my full power upon puberty with extraordinary abilities when I was all of twelve years old, I would have hugged them, and why? I’ll tell you, so listen up.
I had been a moody child, and my Obaa-san, Kino Aoshi-sama had taken care of me along with my siblings, Tonjii and Shiori after the death of our parents. We were inseparable. My best friend Ayano, now an emergent sculptress I have known Ayano most of my life. She was, aside from a gifted artist of stone and any other material that she could get her hands on, a witch and an expert on herbal remedies, but above all, a formidable seer.
She lived with us until my sixteenth birthday as she too was touched by the same tragic events that took our parents from us having lost her own family. Our memories were wiped away. The how’s and the whys were irrelevant. Perhaps it was better this way. I don’t know. My Obaa-san would not speak of it and for a child that is almost tantamount to a crime.
I was angry, so angry it worried my Obaa-san and scared my sisters. Ayano tried to soothe me; she was a year my senior and not only was she my best friend, but my council and conscience. She had steered me through the pillars of gloom so many times with her jokes and her loving nature I have lost count. She too has gone, at least for the next two years. She is away in Europe studying fine arts and sculpture by the masters in Paris, lucky thing. I miss her like mad.
My siblings were hurting too, I knew that, but I wanted to carry their grief and anger and have it fuel my own. I began to get into trouble at school and fights with the boys. Despite the fact I’d always win, bloodied noses and battered egos had their price for expiating my childhood daemons: my grief, rage and the infuriating sense of guilt part of the mix. Irrational I know, but fuck it; I was a kid after all.
I was consumed by my own feelings of loss and at that age unable to be selfless. Though I was a rebel in my early adolescence, as I grew older I began to settle down. I had always been restless. I gained solace from developing my powers as a Senshi, and learning how to control and channel my emotions better. I did this during my rigorous training regimes. Nonetheless, I understood how painful for all of us it was. Even when my Obaa-san and her boyfriend, Yutaka-sama… don’t laugh, my Obaa-san is a beautiful woman and only in her mid-fifties. Now where was I? Oh yeah, I detected a hint of fear and rage under the civility of their station as temple guardians and knew if they were to deal with it more effectively, I had to leave the temple. I couldn’t have them continue to worry about me and have my over-active auric field upset my Obaa-san’s meditations and sense of well-being and no matter how much she loved me she had suffered much for my sake. Enough was Enough, I had to take responsibility and I vowed I would. I could no longer have her agonize over me and bring harm and distress to the temple and those I loved. It was time to leave and set out on my own. It hurt and was the hardest thing I ever had to do. So my mind was made up and I would go. I had no choice.
---
“Child, here, your umbrella,” she hugged me, not fighting back the tears, either of us as we clung together as the sky grumbled its complaint overhead.
“I will visit often, and hey, thunder is my element is it not? A good omen,” I sniffed and my Obaa-san handed me a tissue and I blew my nose. We laughed, as the sound was more like a trumpet to my ears. It soothed my sadness at having to leave the temple that had been my home for all my life, my life since… “And I’ll be fine. The apartment is lovely, thank you for helping me decorate it, Obaa-san.”
“It was the least we could do, my little thunder tigress.”
I kissed her forehead at the very mention of the precious endearment as I looked down into her smiling eyes. “Little?” I giggled, “I’m going to miss all of you guys!”
“We’ll be here to keep you on your toes, and you got to initiate us sis, Tonjii winked, her dark locks moving in a swirl about her petite frame helped along a little by the rising wind.
“You’re both on and don’t forget, I am still the best chef in this prefecture and you have big shoes to fill. I’ll be checking in on you when you least expect it,” I said feigning a stern expression before smiling.
Shiori, in a denim skirt and pink top, her hair hanging in a long braid, bowed and winked. ”It’s your favorite; my coffee cookies and some of the fruit cake I know you love,” she said, handing me the basket with a protective cover to keep the goodies safe inside from the pending rains that were sweeping in from the west.
She grinned at my delight as I sniffed the contents. “Thank you Shiori, I’ll put these to very good use. That is, filling up my tummy,” I giggled and hugged her, kissing the top of her head, “You’re almost as tall as me now. I’m going to have to send you my hand-me-downs; good Tokyo fashions I might add, for each of you.” They smiled.
“I won’t let you down. After all, I had the best teacher in the kitchen and people say I’m your understudy. I can now prove I’m equal best and proud to be. Hell, I’m going to miss you!” Shiori began to cry.
“Me too; you will have to come to my high school dance and bring an extra guy, or two, Tonjii,” said I, making her laugh. I loved her for the gift of lifting people’s spirits.
Then I heard a car horn tooting in the distance as Rei pulled up at the gate. We made our way towards the entrance to the temple grounds to say our last good-byes, Yukaka carrying my suitcase.
Hino Rei, a senior college student I befriended when I was no more than twelve years old, that was almost six years ago now, climbed out of her red Subaru, waving in our direction. Wearing a stylish charcoal suit, consisting of a pleated skirt that fell to mid-thigh and a blazer, smoky-grey shirt and black leather pumps and matching shoulder bag, she looked pretty and trendy.
“Hi guys, Yukaka-sama and Kino-sama… girls!”
She was like me, a Senshi, but her story was different to mine. She was also a Priestess and her element was fire. She was a temple Miko at the Sakura Jinja in Juuban Prefecture the locality where I was to live, study and work.
“Hey Rei-chan, got any hot guys in your trunk?” Tonjii giggled.
“Maybe, but you’ll have to come with us on a night out and…hunt!” she laughed, hugging both my sisters in turn.
“You guys break me up. I have to survey the guy territory, so I’ll update you both on-line, K?” I said, wiping Sheri’s tears away and hugging my younger sister.
“All right!” Tonjii giggled and we all embraced.
“I will come see you often my child. But I will always call in advance. I know the journey will be hard, but you are strong Makoto. Remember we are always a phone call or email away.” My Obaa-san said, her lashes fluttering a tear or two away as she squeezed my hands in her own.
“I’ll remember. I love you guys. Yukaka-sama, take care of Obaa-san for me.”
“Consider it done. Always remember the power of your element and training, Makoto.” He smiled, his dark eyes wise and full of caring. Despite his determination not to show emotion, a tear edged away from the corner of his eye and trickled down his cheek. He didn’t draw attention to it, his only vestige of stoicism in the face of his sadness at my departure.
"Hey guys, this isn't good-bye," I sobbed, hugging Tonjii, Shiori and my Obaa-san and Yukaka. "I refuse to call it that, this is only a brief parting of the ways. I will be back and sooner than you realize so don’t get used to me not being here."
---
I had joined Beryl’s band Dark Empress Butterfly after the redhead had insisted upon hearing me sing at a campus karaoke slumber party and I was hurled into a world of superstardom almost overnight. We were just a typical university group, but had been sighted by a relative of Ayumi Hamasaki who Beryl invited to perform with us both on campus for the annual battle of the bands and then as her back up act on tour. After that, we were made and world famous. But Beryl and the gang were always mindful of our roots, we still played the Tokyo University gigs when we had a chance as some of us studied between touring and real life stuff outside this magical and pop cultural enigma that was my life.
References
In Celtic mythology, the oak tree is the tree of doors, believed to be a gateway between worlds, or a place where portals could be erected.
In Norse mythology, the oak was sacred to the thunder god, Thor. Some scholars speculate that this is because the oak, as the largest tree in northern Europe, was the one most often struck by lightning.
Thor's Oak was a sacred tree of the Germanic Chatti tribe.
Kashiwa is the Japanese word for Oak Tree.
In Classical mythology, the oak was a symbol of Zeus and his sacred tree. An example is the oracle of Dodona, which in prehistory consisted solely of a holy oak.
