Miaka still felt a pang of embarrassment from her earlier mishap at the emperor’s parade, but as she walked alongside Tamahome and Hotohori, the emperor’s calm grace put her at ease. Hotohori had dismissed her apology with a kind smile, yet Miaka couldn’t help but continue feeling self-conscious, especially now that she was learning of her connection to the emperor himself.
“I’m really sorry about earlier, Your Majesty,” Miaka said hesitantly, glancing at Hotohori. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene at the parade. I wasn’t thinking, and—”
Hotohori turned to her, his golden-brown eyes warm and reassuring. “There is no need to apologize, Miaka. You are new to our customs. There is no harm done. And please, you may call me Hotohori when we are not in the presence of my people.”
Miaka nodded, her cheeks coloring slightly. There was a gentle kindness to him, a soft contrast to his royal bearing that made him approachable despite his title. “Thank you, Hotohori.”
Tamahome smirked as he walked a step behind them. “See? No need to worry. The emperor’s more laid-back than you think.”
Miaka couldn’t help but smile faintly, but questions filled her mind. Why had she been brought here, and what was this mysterious prophecy that tied her to a god and the seven warriors?
As they approached the towering structure of the Suzaku Temple, Miaka's heart pounded. The temple rose majestically in the heart of the capital, its red and gold walls glowing in the afternoon light. The intricate golden gates, painted with images of Suzaku, seemed to beckon her forward, promising answers but demanding reverence.
“This is the Suzaku Temple,” Hotohori explained, his voice filled with reverence. “It is where the Oracle of Suzaku resides and where the prophecy was written. It’s also where the Suzaku Seven are chosen and bound to the Miko.”
Miaka’s eyes widened, taking in the grandeur. A deep, ancient energy seemed to hum in the air around her, as if the very walls were alive with Suzaku’s power. She followed Hotohori and Tamahome up the stone steps and through the golden gates, the weight of her new role pressing down on her.
The cool air within the temple was fragrant with incense, and the gentle trickle of a fountain filled the silence. Sunlight filtered through high windows, casting colorful patterns across the marble floors. Everything felt surreal, like she was stepping into a dream.
In the center of the temple was an altar draped in rich red and gold fabric. Behind it, a mural of Suzaku spread across the wall, a grand and fiery depiction of the Vermilion Bird, with wings outstretched as if it were ready to take flight at any moment.
Hotohori gestured toward the mural, his gaze softening. “Miaka, this is where your journey begins. The prophecy of Suzaku has been passed down for centuries. It speaks of the arrival of the Suzaku no Miko, the chosen one who will summon Suzaku’s power to save this land.”
Miaka looked up at the mural, her heart racing. She felt a connection to Suzaku, even though she still couldn’t fully understand it. “Summon Suzaku… to save the land? How am I supposed to do that?”
Hotohori nodded solemnly. “Yes, Suzaku is the guardian deity of the South. According to the prophecy, when the Suzaku no Miko appears, she will be bound by fate to the Suzaku Seven warriors, who will stand by her side to protect her and help her summon Suzaku’s power.”
Miaka’s mind whirled. The idea of summoning a god and saving a kingdom felt impossible, yet the determination in Hotohori’s gaze made her want to believe it was possible. “But… how do I find these warriors?”
Hotohori glanced at Tamahome, sharing a brief, knowing look with him. “The Suzaku Seven are bound to the Miko. Fate will guide them to you. When the time is right, each warrior will appear by your side.”
Tamahome stepped forward, raising his sleeve to show Miaka the faint katakana mark on his forehead. The character for “鬼” (demon) glowed softly in the temple light. “I’m one of them,” he said. “My mark is ‘鬼’—demon.”
Miaka stared in awe. “So you… you’re one of the Suzaku Seven?”
Hotohori nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, and I, too, am one of the Suzaku Seven.” He pulled back his collar to reveal a mark on his neck—the character for “星” (star) shining a deep, radiant red. “My mark is ‘星’—star.”
Miaka’s eyes widened in realization. Two of the warriors were already by her side, and she hadn’t even known it. Her heart felt a little lighter, as if she wasn’t as alone in this world as she’d first feared.
“So… you’re the emperor and one of the Suzaku Seven?” Miaka asked, still trying to wrap her mind around it.
“Yes,” Hotohori replied, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “As a member of the Suzaku Seven, I am bound to protect you, Miaka. We are united in this journey. And together, we will find the remaining warriors.”
Miaka’s chest swelled with gratitude and a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt since arriving here. She looked from Hotohori to Tamahome, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you… both of you. I… I’ll do my best.”
Hotohori gave her a reassuring nod. “We are honored to serve you, Miaka. The prophecy speaks of trials, of battles, and of sacrifice. The Suzaku no Miko will face many challenges, and the Suzaku Seven will be her shield. Together, we must summon Suzaku and protect this land.”
Tamahome placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression sincere. “You’re not alone in this, Miaka. No matter what, we’ll be here with you.”
Miaka felt a wave of emotions. She was overwhelmed, but also hopeful. “Thank you… I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, but I’ll try. I don’t want to let you down.”
Hotohori turned to face the mural of Suzaku, his voice thoughtful. “The prophecy has guided us for generations, Miaka. Each warrior bears a mark of the Suzaku Seven, signifying our divine connection to Suzaku’s power.” He looked back at her, his expression solemn. “As we find the others, our power as a group will grow stronger. Only with all Seven can Suzaku’s true power be summoned.”
“Who are the other warriors?” Miaka asked, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
Hotohori recited the names, his voice echoing through the quiet temple. “The remaining warriors are:
Nuriko—(Willow) 柳,
Chichiri—(Well) 井,
Tasuki—(Wings) 翼,
Mitsukake—(Chariot) 軫,
Chiriko—(Extended Net) 張.
Each has a unique strength and will serve to protect you.”
Miaka felt her determination growing. “And… we’ll find them, right?”
Hotohori nodded with a calm certainty. “Fate will guide us, Miaka. They will appear when the time is right, and together we will fulfill the prophecy. You are the Suzaku no Miko, and we are your warriors. Your strength will be our strength.”
Miaka stood tall, feeling a surge of purpose as she looked up at the grand mural of Suzaku. The path ahead was filled with uncertainty, but with Hotohori and Tamahome by her side, she felt ready to face whatever lay in her way. This was her journey, and together, they would find the remaining Suzaku Seven and unlock the power of Suzaku.
YOU ARE READING
"Fate's Unraveling: A Tale Beyond the Stars"
FantasyWhen she stumbled upon a mysterious book in an old library corner, the last thing she expected was to be pulled into a world of gods, wars, and treachery. Suddenly, she finds herself in ancient Konan, bound to Seiryuu and caught in the deadly scheme...
