Maidens of the Kaleidoscope Weekly Writing Challenge
Subject: Endings
Tenure
By Jason ?Zentillion? Winter
So, the time?s finally come for me to make my exit from the occupation I had worked and lived through for nearly seven decades. An occupation that has put me through plenty of good times, almost as many bad times, and quite a lot of the in-between. The occupation that has garnered me personally and my place of work and simultaneous residence conflicting things; praise and ire, friends and enemies, fame and infamy; things I wouldn?t have any other way.
Well, at least now, anyway. When I was younger, during the earlier years, effort was something I usually avoided unless there was a threat, mysterious goings-on, or a challenge from someone else - anything that actually piqued my interest or just simply annoyed me enough that I would go out to put a stop to it and get some peace and quiet. Funnily, this usually would only happen several times a year so I was usually lulled back into complacency until the next time. But as I grew older and learned more about myself, I suppose my priorities changed a bit. I began working harder.
My late teens and twenties were only the start of my long road to furthering myself, I eventually was able to summon gods with relative ease, though it wasn?t until my early thirties when I had completely mastered it, and let me tell you, that took actual effort. If I had stayed the way I had when I was younger, I?d still just be resolving things whenever the mood struck me instead of truly fulfilling my duties and learning all of my powers to prepare the next in line.
The problem with that was, well, in all that time I shrugged off love and romance to relax or to train, usually once you hit your mid to late thirties around here (well, when you?re a human at least) you can pretty much only come to terms that you?re going to wind up an old maid, a metaphorical cake beyond its holiday of origin. Then again, with my job, I suppose having children by blood should have been out of the question. But then, I met him.
I?ll spare you the details, I?m sure you don?t want to deal with me talking on and on about every little intricacy of my love life, so I?ll just get to the barebones. I have my first child at 42, but what do you know it?s a boy. He, of course grows up to be a wonderful young man, no doubt about that, and I love him no less because of it. But he?s not, at least? traditionally going to wind up a shrine maiden. Besides, something about our power can only be passed on to a female in the family, which is kind of unfortunate, it would be interesting to have a priest for this shrine. Heh, instead, as a small bit of irony, he took after my best friend instead and became a magician under her tutelage.
At 47, that second child comes, and, there she is, the one destined to take the reins. She grows up to be beautiful, smart, faithful, and strong, just like me. Unlike me, however, she winds up actually taking things in a serious manner right at the start. She?s already summoning minor gods when I was only flying by my own power just before that incident with the scarlet mist that happened so long ago. I remember one thing clearly about it - it was annoying and I went off to stop it at the source. That?s all that had mattered to me then, because it was an inconvenience.
Would I have done things in a different way if I had all of my current knowledge and power back then? Probably not. I still would have gone to that mansion and stopped that mist before it became an environmental hazard. My friends agree with this whole-hearted and with confidence. In fact, most of the things I did in my younger years, I doubt I would have done them differently - well maybe by a few small margins, but that would have been it.
But, moving on, she was going to be the perfect successor. She even winds up with a daughter of her own at 19, and my granddaughter pretty much continues the pattern of beauty, smarts, and skill. I didn?t think I?d see when she went through the ritual to become the next in line. That was, until her mother, my daughter was killed by a youkai when my granddaughter was just two. I, her father, our son and son in law, my friends, all of us devastated by the news. Devastation became anger, and anger became revenge. When we found that youkai, we were going to do the sort of extermination that we didn?t actually call ?extermination,? there would be no returning later for it. This was going to be permanent.
My husband and my son in law found the youkai first, but they were not holy men nor magicians and were cut down with the same overwhelming hatred and fury our child and his wife had been. You can bet my son and I hunted it down, and joined by my best friend and his mentor, put an end to them. We were horrified that it had to come to this, but that?s how it wound up being. We promised ourselves to make sure something like that would never happen again. We made sure the orphaned girl would still have us.
We taught her magician?s magic along with the magic she would learn by tradition. Like her mother and unlike I, she?s completely into her studies, and considering she?s putting work into two schools of power and not one, it?s nothing short of amazing how dedicated she is. Perhaps part of it is also because we didn?t skirt around what happened to her parents. The only secrets we keep are those about what she?s going to learn later in her training.
Finally, it?s come to this point. We?ve set up the ritual just as it has been set up for every one in line before, to transfer my soul?s connection to the Great Barrier over to her own. It?s a huge responsibility, but she says she?s ready, and I can tell she?s completely truthful. Her brother and my friend help, having a magician along is help enough but with two, things are even easier. Her body and mine glow, strands of power and spirit weaving between us. Outside, the Barrier ripples just the littlest bit as it?s prone to do with the ritual.
Finally, all those strands have pulled over to her and are absorbed. The tenure of I, Reimu Hakurei, as the Hakurei Shrine maiden has come to its end after so much joy and pain, more the former than the latter, thank goodness.
