When life hands you a stone – turn it into more stones

“We are missing a protector.”

The fire seer mumbles as he watches Rure’s fox pad ahead of them. Chiharureika could only nod in agreement.

“We are all capable of being our own protectors.”

The earth healer smiled softly from the side. They were in the middle of travelling on foot towards the next town over. It was a warm day, it invited the calm slowness, but they could at least appreciate the beautiful field of flowers and animals munching on the grass.

“I’m Koharu!”

The fox stops mid-step and sits down, tail wagging wide enough to scatter petals in its path. It must be happy.

“I’m Rure’s spring spirit!”

Koharu hops from one paw to the other, dancing around them. Hop. Hop. Hop. Whack!

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were some pesky little thing.”

The fire seer grumbles, wiping the back of his hand on his vest as if Koharu was nothing more than a little mosquito bug he swatted away. The earth healer only laughed at Koharu’s growls.

“Forgive us. This is Kagen. I’m Neoru.”

Rure could only peek from where she stood, not wanting to give away that she knew who they both were. She studied them quite certainty, knowing that they are truly the most powerful successors in their clans, the wisest choices for this adventure.

Kagen, the fire seer, was the strongest seer ever born, and unique to the fire clan’s gifts. It was common for the water clan to birth seers but rare for the fire clan, whose dominion lay over reincarnation and sigils. He was the only fire seer born in this generation; he had a life shaped by expectations and pressure long before he could take full control over his gift.

Kagen wore a vest that resembled his flaming cape. It was dark and scarred with memories of harsh training. His hair was wild and red, as if angry at the world for giving him the power to explore one’s mind and premonitions-the burden to choose not to change fates even in death.

“Kage is a sweet soul. You do not need to worry about his temper or anything that your mind is thinking.”

Neoru catches up with Rure, they now walk next to each other with Rure in between them. Koharu decides that Neoru was standing too close for comfort, so it jumps onto Rure’s shoulders. Wrapping its tail around her neck gently, letting it fall on her shoulder and hiding behind her paws ready for slumber. Rure could only think about the lazy Koharu simply not wanting to walk any further.

“Neoru can heal anyone-the stronger the healing the more it takes away from him. Remember that he still needs to rest after healing.”

Kagen glares at her, she smiles softly after offering a nod of understanding. It must be nice to have someone to look out for you like that. Rure reaches up lightly to caress Koharu on her shoulder.

“I’m Rure, I will be the shrine maiden in our adventure.”

She whispers back to her two companions. The role of the shrine maiden may seem easy, but it carries a heavy unknown burden. A lot of attention is given to choosing maidens for the role. To come from a difficult past is rare for a shrine maiden. Their upbringings kept their innocence pure.

“How were you chosen?”

Kagen coughs out the question as Neoru glares at his curious childhood friend. He shakes his head, as if warning him that nothing good comes with asking a shrine maiden that. It has always been a secret. Even the keepers of secrets do not carry the answer with them. Rure stares ahead of them, at the smoke far away a sign that the next town is closer than they thought.

“One day, if I must, I will tell you both.” That is all she could gather to say. It was not a story that made her feel weak or particularly disadvantaged of. It was just a story that no one would expect from a ceremony for shrine maiden choosing.

“We three will be together for a while, it will be good for us to get along better. Tonight, we should dine and share stories.” Neoru grabs both Kagen and Rure with their shoulders, attempting to show affection for their newly found bond by pulling them into a loose circle. Kagen huffs out an agreement and puts his arm around both as well, moving back only when Koharu snarled at them for touching Rure. She gives a soft laugh at their startled faces when Koharu yawned back to sleep.

“It is quiet.” Kagen’s stance grew rigid, as did Neoru’s.

“This is a fire clan’s village. It is too quiet.” Kagen’s voice carried a hint of warning. Rure remembered reading that the sound of metal pounding against metal is a common welcome for visitors to the fire clan as they forged the finest weapons. The clangs were also to signify that more blessings come and visiting their lands, greetings offered with open arms.

They continue to walk towards the village, the stone arch leading the way, untouched by muck and grime. Neoru takes this moment to look at Rure. He could tell that while he and Kagen wore the easy confidence of someone raised among laughter and open roads, Rure walked as though every step was perfectly calculated and measured long before this journey began. She was flowing so carefully, reverent, as if she was talking to the land itself and they were listening. Kagen rolled his eyes towards his childhood friend’s curious eyes. He also took his time observing him, Neoru was dressed in different shades of the earth. His vest was embossed with a root system that looked like a map. Every member of the earth clan wore them, so if they should get lost, they will never lose their way home. It made him reminisce about their moments when they were small enough it felt like the forest could swallow them whole. He too wore a vest, but his was charcoal black with intricate flames flowing around.

Rure felt still at the coldness of her thoughts running over her mind. She couldn’t help but keep thinking about how heavy they carry the pride of their clans. She remembered to dress light for today’s journey, wearing the same as the men in pants only a top with longer sleeves and a pouch around her waist. Her back carrying everything else she might need.

Her steps seemed to falter as closely as she got to the end of the stone path. The village greeted them with stillness. No forges rang. No voices drifted from stone wall to stone wall. Even the banners hung still, there was no movement. They could see the smoke rising from within, a distance from them but there was no warmth, no scent of food or metal lingering in the air.

She felt Koharu’s head lift, ears twitching.

“Is there anyone here?” Koharu asked, tail swinging slowly against Rure’s back.

Rure felt it then, a pressure behind her eyes, a tug beneath her ribs. Shrines were not always marked by gates or bells. Sometimes they were only known by the way the silence gathered around them, like a halo. She tightened her grip on the charm she wore around her waist, the one given to her the day of choosing. Only given.

“We should move, staying out in the open is not a good idea.” Neoru glances around the empty stalls. Kagen moves towards an empty stall, the food still fresh from being cooked with heat.

“We are being watched.” His eyes carefully scan the surrounding homes.

“They must be afraid.” Koharu snarled at the thought of members of the order coming in to cause a riot.

The deeper they walked, the more the village softened. Stone paths widened, lanterns glowed with a low, ember-colored light reminding Kagen of his hometown. Full of life, warmth, and laughter. People began to reveal themselves quietly, doors slightly open, curtains pulled back to peek at the trio that walked along the path.

“This is the inner village,” an elder woman appeared in front of them, as though she had always been there only keeping the silence. Her hair was silvery ash like the kind that falls from the sky when a volcano shows signs of eruption. Her robes stitched with thread the color of cooled magma. “Outsiders rarely reach this far.”

Rure could only think, “what do you mean?” It was not as if it was difficult for them to enter the village. They simply walked right in, without permission as well. The elder woman’s gaze lingered on Rure, not unkindly.

“You must be tired, come now, come.” She rushed the trio to follow her just as people went about their day, eyes still following their movements.

They were guided to a low hall near the central forge, no longer in use but the great doors continued to be sealed with prayer that faded in time. Food had been laid out and Kagen smiled widely at the options. Steamed rice, fire-roasted roots, rich broth warmth and with spices he missed his hometown. No one asked them to pray but Rure asked for blessings upon the hands who made their food and those who chose to welcome them in their journey.

They ate in silence with the elder, and Kagen was thankful it was not uncomfortable. His shoulders eased for the first time since they had arrived, but Rure’s strict posture gave her away. Neoru laughed softly when an elder corrected his posture, being too relaxed around strangers yet his voice was light and unburdened. Even Koharu cried from Rure’s lap, tail flicking lazily, eyes half-lidded at the sight of scrumptious meat to be devoured. Rure felt odd, like something was missing. She looked at her companions and only found them enjoying the meal, but she had blessed it in disguise of checking for poison. The elder gave her a smile, the corner of her lips felt forced as they met each other’s gaze. “This place is so quiet,” Neoru murmured, with food in his mouth receiving a glare from Kagen at his impolite display of etiquette as pieces of rice fell. “It feels…rested.” Kagen chimes in.

“Yes. Rest is important. Especially before one is needed.” The elder nods at Rure, urging her to have her fill of food before ushering them towards their rooms. Rure’s fingers tightened around her bowl.

The people gradually joined them for dinner, starting conversations about the outside world. Rure felt as if they were locked in this village, thoughts clouding up at the sight of the children who kept asking about the different villages and clans. Travel used to be safe, people used to be safe and familiar.

Later, as they were given separate quarters, Koharu checked every corner of their room. It was prepared long before their arrival. They truly were keepers of secrets; the elder must have received a personal message from her Mother Pearl. Rure’s room faced inward, toward the sealed forge. A basin of water waited beside the door; there she washed her hands as she had been taught long ago. When she lay down, sleep took her quickly.

The Dream

Rure felt light, very light, as if she was floating weighted like a feather before she felt herself stand barefoot and touching the cold rough surface of a stone.

Before her rose the forge, it was not broken and seemed unsealed. It felt… whole? Yet fire could be seen burning from within it, low and steady, breathing like a living thing kept alive by the villagers like a tiny secret of a collection of their souls. From its shadows she could see figures dancing wistfully around the source of heat. She moved closer to the forge, peeking within the gap that allowed her to see the secrets within.

A woman stood beside it.

Her robes were white once. Slowly traces of soot gold followed her movements. Her hair fell loosely down her back, dark and heavy and untouched by the flames surrounding her.

“They told you shrine maidens are chosen for their purity,” the woman’s soft voice reached her ears. It was a sound so soothing and welcoming that her figure emitting darkness clouded her judgement at the woman’s soft voice. Her voice was calm, unaccusing. “Didn’t they?”

Rure tried moving her lips, whispering a low “Yes.”

She heard a soft sound, almost a laugh leaves the woman as she continued to dance.

“No.” The woman finally looked at her through the gaps, catching her bright swirling eyes. A shade of blue mixing within the embers. She could only stare at the woman’s fire, eyes consumed by it. “They are chosen because they endured what others cannot.”

The forge began to pulse, shaking beneath her feet.

“I was the last,” the woman continued, her voice breaking. “I held what this village could not destroy. I kept it warm so it would not rage. I listened when it remembered.”

Rure felt heat gather in her chest, a recognition of a feeling that seemed to settle with familial feelings.

“You are not here to fight,” the woman continued gently. “You are here to remain.”

Ash began to fall from above, settling in Rure’s open palm as she tried to catch them like a memory she needed to be reminded of.

When she woke, her hands were clean.

But they felt heavier.

The Forge and Her Truth

Rure woke before the bells and was just staring out into the center of the village.

There were no bells, she realized but only a hum of warmth beneath the village, the same steady breath that she had felt in her dream. Koharu was already awake, perched beside her by the window, ears titled toward the sealed forge as if listening to something only spirits could hear.

When Rure rose, ash fell from her palms. She stood still; she did not see nor feel them earlier. When did she shut her fists tight? A knock had her wiping her palms against her trousers. The elderly were waiting for her outside.

“You have been seen,” the woman said simply. “The forge has accepted you.”

She followed the old woman, noticing that she did not wake Kagen or Neoru. Not yet maybe. Some truths were not meant to be witnessed all at once, Rure thought to herself. As the inner forge stood slowly opening, she then noticed that no fire was burning inside anymore.

Instead, the chambers were filled with stone, intricate marks of flame and engravements swirling along the walls towards a gem across from where they stood, far within the forge. Hundreds of smoothed, shaped, and carved sigils seemed to thin within time but were still loud and bold. They were stacked with reverence, arranged in circles and lines, each etched with a name only a true fire born would be able to appreciate. A lineage, it was a memory of flame — it was their secrets.

Rure understood what was in front of her before she was told.

“These are the Fire Clan,” the elder said. “Or what remains.”

Kagen’s breath hitched behind her. He had followed them after feeling a tug within his chest as if pulling him to where they now stood, witnessing the history kept from other clans.

His hands trembled as he stepped forward, eyes scanning sigil after sigil like a marking from his family, rites of inheritance, seals that were only taught to elders. His knees buckled.

“No,” he whispered, clenching his fists in a soul wrenching tug against his heartstrings, as if it was the kind of love he lost before he could experience it completely. “These are… these are burial stones.”

“Yes,” the elder replied. “And prisons.”

The truth shadowed them slowly, mercifully. Kagen felt powerless, did the higher circle keep them from his people for years?

This Fire Clan’s village had not fallen in battle. They had been contained.

Long ago, when the war between races threatened to burn the world beyond repair, the village made a choice: to surrender their physical forms and bind their spirits into stone, sealed by sigils of reincarnation and restraint. They soon would become guardians, not warriors. Heat without spread, flame without destruction but a soft waking sight.

The winged order had sworn to watch over them, and they had. Too well.

“Breaking the stones would free them.” Kagen said hoarsely. “Return them to their cycles.”

“Yes,” the elder said, stomping her cane as she acknowledged the challenge. “And collapse the seal that has been keeping our people, the greater fires, asleep.”

Kagen laughed with a broken heart, “so the fire village isn’t alive.”

He reached out to the nearest stone with a familiar sigil. It read kodomo. The children they were with the day before ran through his mind. Futures of fire children were taken, he only wished there was no pain as he pressed his palm to one of the stones.

“We are… architecture.”

Neoru made himself known, stepping forward slowly. His healer’s sight aligning with what his heart refused to see. “That’s why,” he murmured, standing beside Kagen and reaching out for the same touch of a cold stone sitting there for years. “That’s why my healing weakens here.”

He closed his eyes, sensing the echoes of souls kept in the forge. “I don’t heal,” he said. “I can only redistribute.” The cost of his ability settling into him like weight on his palms, reaching out to touch the space around his heart, pulling against it.

Every life he had saved was only borrowed from somewhere else, an energy that never flowed endlessly. From spirits unable to move on, much like the spirits he could feel kept here now. From energy meant to rest, he had never been meant to bring everyone back. A give and take from his ability. He realized that his healing was not resurrected.

Rure stepped between them.

“The village asked me to remain,” she said as she too waved her hand over the stone. “To take the last shrine maiden’s place.”

Silence made her doubt herself.

“And?” Kagen asked, already knowing her answer.

“I said no.”

The elder nodded, not surprised. “Then the forge will sleep longer. That is all we ask. That you remember us.” The spirit of their shrine maiden lingered in the forge; she had trapped them all in hopes of a fight against the winged order’s cruel ways. But they had placed her far away from the others, only letting her be with her people when the moon is high and whole.

They left at the next dawn, and no one stopped them. The village did not follow.

At the archway end of their village, Rure looked back once again. Not at the forge but at the stones beneath them, falling on the earth. She bowed, low and deliberate. Kagen did not turn back, he couldn’t. Neoru walked more slowly beside them, his steps measured now as his hands resting at his sides instead of reaching out to mend everything he saw. They could feel the spirits of the children waving for them to return.

A few moments of silence until beyond the village, the land changed.

The warmth faded, and the air sharpened. Smoke rose again on the horizon but this time it was not still.

Koharu peeked out from Rure’s shoulders, a form smaller than usual and tail flicking with the wind.

“Well,” the spirit tried to make light of the situation, “at least now we know what fire truly is.”

Rure nodded, it was far more than a skill, it was a responsibility none of them truly understood until seeing the forge — keeper of spirits. Kagen looked at his two companions, wondering how strong they truly were as he looked down the same as Neoru. His palms emitting a soft cloud.

Ahead of them lay another path, and with it, the next place would ask too much of them.

This time, they would know what it cost to say yes.