The Reincarnation of Alysara. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry this one took so long. I don't have really an excuse other than it turned out to be harder than I expected.

AN2: Got some editing suggestions? Suggest it on the Google Docs here:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/15mz8ykW9NQ2KRHcELxisvXAGDQOihR0oFz7IfZRpFfI/edit?usp=sharing

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Chozu wakes up to a smiling Myrou. The hand-tall clothed avatar of the goddess stands on the table next to her bed as a way to safeguard her dreams. It had been her latest devotion project to Myrou, proof of her skill as a master clay sculptor. Being able to make a statue in which a fragment of Myrou inhabits, is the sign of a master in one’s craft.

As the goddess of beauty, it’s an insult to equate her as anything lesser than her true likeness, and thus, one must make an abstract figure for her to inhabit. Through abstraction, one can infer the form to be Myrou while not being a cheap imitation of her image. It must be close enough to Myrou as to hint at her but not so close that one is actively trying to copy her form. It’s a fine line, especially in a physical object, as it’s all too easy to make a figure that falls too close or not enough to Myrou. 

Myrou is in a good mood today, Chozu notes before turning to shake her husband’s shoulder to wake him.

“Morning,” her husband, Eztol, yawns and grogily slips out of bed.

They get dressed, brush their hair and tail, then walk into the hall.

“Nyam! It’s time for morning bath!” Chozu calls.

Her child groggily walks out of his room with droopy ears, rubbing one eye, and his tail dragging on the ground. 

After the baths, they briefly stop by the house to pick up Alysárá’s Kyholo gift. A black ribbon with icy blue embroidery of snowflakes. It would look lovely with the girl’s blue hair.

Eztol has his gift in hand: a Fytomr Shell, a radiant ruby gem of a shell. This one had been an old Fytomr; the fire mana had fully saturated the shell, an extravagant gift for sure.

Chozu gives Eztol a dirty look.

“It’s not gonna be better than her Kyhosá. Kánáto said that this wouldn’t even compare.” he defends himself.

Although it breaks tradition, it’s best to get permission from a parent for such a risky gift. One must be careful not to give a gift better than the Kyhosá—doing so would be equivalent to declaring that you care more about the child than their own parents.

“Didn’t you just apologize for Nyam’s behavior? Why does it have to be at her Kyholo?!” Chozu interrogates, crossing her arms and glaring at the buffoon standing before her. Even if it’s approved, it’ll still cause a scandal—people will accuse them of trying to outdo Alysárá’s parents. “Literally any other day, and it would have been fine—but at her Kyholo?! What were you thinking!”

Eztol shifts his eyes downward and droops his ears slightly in shame. “Well, it’s my sister-in-law’s child—we’re not that far removed, and it’s a Fytomr shell, not a Lytomr shell; I’m not that careless.”

Every word Eztol says only makes Chozu angrier as she scowls and flicks her tail in frustration. 

Nyam, sensing the growing storm, scampers off to his room. 

“In law!” Chozu Shouts, “That’s still far removed. Maybe if it was my gift, it could be passable! But you are too far removed for a gift like that! Are you trying to insult the whole extended family?!” 

“We could trade if it’s that bad,” Eztol continues to figuratively pull his own tail.

“It’s a Fytomr shell! Everyone will know it’s from you!” Chozu grits her teeth, fire in her eyes.

“We could say it’s from both of us—look.” Eztol points at a spot where a ribbon could be looped through to make a hair ornament.

“You looked at my gift?! How many traditions do you plan on breaking?!” Chozu, now grinding her teeth, stomps her foot.

Eztol cringes at Chozu’s display of anger, reflexively looking away in slight fear.

“I know you’re worried about what people will say, bu—” 

“You’re damn right I’m worried!” Chozu cuts him off. “I didn’t marry an idiot, but that’s what everyone will say!”

“But—”

“No buts! You don’t even have time to change your gift—the Kyholo will start soon!”

“Kánáto and Feyan are planning something worse! People won’t talk about us!” Eztol defends himself.

“That’s not the point! We’ll continue this later—we’re going to be late, and I don’t want to make this any worse.” Chozu opens the door in a huff. “Nyam! We’re going to Alysárá’s Kyholo.”

“Don’t wanna!” Nyam timidly peeks out from around the corner.

“You are coming, and you will behave yourself!” Chozu shoots Nyam a death glare. 

Nyam wisely walks to the door wordlessly while Eztol follows Chozu out the door quietly, not wanting to bring her ire back to him.

The Kyholo is held at Chozu and Feyan’s parents’ house. Due to the argument, most people are already there. It’s close, but they aren’t late.

“Chozu! Lá! I take it that something happened?” Feyan says, greeting them by pivoting her ears toward them.

“Lá. Yes, Eztol was being an idiot,” Chozu replies succinctly.

“Kánáto warned me about his gift, but don’t worry. It’ll work out,” Feyan reassures. 

A small crowd is watching as Chozu and Feyan’s mom, Alysárá’s grandmother, hangs a new portrait on the wall, one showing Feyan and Kánáto holding Alysárá as they have their arms around each other.

Over in another place, Kánáto holds a sleeping Alysárá as he talks with his friends and family; a lot of them are cooing over the cute baby and taking turns holding Alysárá.

“Did you ever find out what’s ailing Alysárá? You haven’t been showing up at the tea parties lately,” Chozu asks.

“I’m sorry about that,” Feyan answers. “I’ve been so busy with Aly’s Kyhosá that I couldn’t attend. As for her condition, we have an announcement for that.”

“I’m glad you found something for the Kyhosá. You were really stressing out about that.”

“Well, it was Kánáto’s idea, but it really works,” Feyan replies with a smile.

Just as the final guests are trickling in, everyone is called to the lounge. Unlike ordinary family gatherings, there’s a full-sized wooden statue of a smiling Myrou, a dedication made just for Alysárá’s Kyholo. Feyan and Kánáto would have made it a few months ago, as it is proper to have the goddess watch over a child’s Kyholo. 

Although Kánáto might not be as pious as he should be, Chozu is relieved to see that they are still doing the right things. She remembers the scandal Feyan caused by courting Kánáto, who came from a middle island where faith in Myrou had waned. Their mother was really upset that she was seeing someone who didn’t value faith in Myrou; that was the thought, anyway. Kánáto turned out to be more faithful than his origin suggested, and from what he says, there’s still a lot of faith in the middle and outer regions of the Nexus, but the religious customs are different.

“I heard the outer villages don’t even have Myrou watch over Kyholos; I’m glad Kánáto hasn’t brought such shame with him,” Chozu overhears someone gossip as everyone takes their seat. 

She has to agree. Kánáto might believe he shares the same conviction, but who doesn’t let Myrou watch over Kyholos if they are so faithful?

Chozu finds her chair, a chair with stained glass set in a circle on the backrest. The glass is a watery blue, representing her water Bond. Once everyone is seated in their representative chairs, Kánáto and Feyan stand up to address the party.

“We have some news regarding Little Aly’s condition,” Kánáto starts.

It’s known that something happened, and Alysárá refuses to open her eyes, but many think it a benign childish behavior.

“After asking for the Guardian’s wisdom and insight, we have confirmed the presence of cursed skills.”

Cursed skills? Plural? At her age? It would have been considered a lie had it not been the word of the Guardian—no one would dare invoke the Guardian’s name for some made-up story. Murmurs resound among the group. Kánáto waits for everyone to quiet down.

“However, it is not all bad news.  At the same time, the Guardian told us that Alysárá has a blessing from the goddess herself.”

More murmurs erupt, louder this time. A blessing from Myrou is perhaps rarer than someone gaining a cursed skill, yet no one doubts this as Myrou watches over this testimony. To lie in her presence is blasphemous, but to lie about a blessing in her presence is unthinkable.

“One more thing,” Kánáto adds after all the mutterings died down. “Our Kyhosá may be seen as controversial, but know that we got permission from Myrou herself, directly from her Likeness with the priestesses and local Elders as witnesses.”

With that, the couple finally announced the start of the Kyholo.

One by one, people walk up to the center to show off their gift. Some people have interesting or funny stories to tell, but most just show off their gift and add it to the growing pile.

One of Alysárá’s cousins presents a pair of mundane gold agate earrings. It is one of the more ideal gifts as it shows thought for a meaningful gift while clearly showing respect for the parents by not being overly meaningful by using mana-infused metals or stones; a perfect gift from a cousin. An expertly carved and dyed wooden bangle comes from a more removed family member. Next is a beautiful dress for when Alysárá would be older. Often clothes are regarded as a poor choice, but coming from an appropriately distant relative, it wouldn’t cause a fuss.

“...as soon as I saw my little niece, I knew this would be a great gift,” Alysárá’s uncle from her father’s side finishes up her story. His gift is a sapphire fitted in an engraved silver ring, a good gift from one so closely related. Chozu gives her husband a stare as if saying, “That’s a real Kyholo gift!”

Next up is Chozu, who stands up and presents her ribbon—at first, a few people mutter about a “cheap gift,” but when Chozu ties it to Alysárá’s hair, revealing the ice silk that was used in its craft. Illusions of snow grow along the ribbon before falling and drifting down as it evaporates.

Flashy? Yes. A bit over the top? It’s very hard to make a good cloth-type gift, and it’s her blood-related niece, after all. Also, it’s not like she made an entire dress—just a simple ribbon. The simplicity of its form counters the flashiness.

Next is her husband’s dreaded gift. He walks up and loops Chozu’s ribbon into the shell. Honestly, Chozu has to give him credit. With the shell, it looks like the snow is falling from the ruby. Perfect balance between the ice element-filled silk and fire element saturated shell, a sacred union of two opposites.

The next thing that happens takes everyone by surprise. Raw mana starts condensing around the hair ornament, shimmering auroras like those above the Nexus. Chozu quickly identifies the result with her [Read Magic] Skill.

Hair Ornament of Duality (Minor): Given at a Kyholo, this gift is the combination of two gifts into one. It produces heatless, coldless, flaming snowflakes.

The burning snowflakes drift down for a lot longer, slowly dissipating, no longer a mere illusion as the snowflakes seem to be made of mana rather than a spell effect of an enchantment.

It isn’t unheard of for gifts of a special occasion to turn into a magical item. In fact, there are several Kyhosá that turn into minor magical items every year. Some people even try to force such an event, although it rarely ever works. Part of what makes a magical item is sincerity; it’s like whatever force that’s responsible for such transformation is aware of the intent to make a magical item and purposely prevents it from happening.

This new development worries Chozu. It was never her intention to make a magical item, and the fact that it isn’t even the Kyhosá makes it even worse—now Kánáto and Feyan have to top this. Chozu turns to Feyan to apologize but sees Feyan smiling.

Is their Kyhosá that good? Chozu wonders. Others look in her direction and mutter something to their partners or friends.

Going against everyone’s expectations, both Kánáto and Feyan go to the center with their hands, and presumably the Kyhosás, behind their back. 

“We both had extreme trouble figuring out what fits our special little girl,” Kánáto says. “As did most of you. We struggled every day to find the perfect gift, something that would satisfy our [Perfectionist’s Eye]. A few months ago, I found a large nexus gem and sought to devote it to Myrou. But the more I went down that path, the more Myrou seemed unhappy. It wasn’t until I started cutting the gems with my child in mind that she finally smiled.” Kánáto looks at his wife and smiles.

Feyan reveals the jewelry she is holding. A beautiful amulet with braided twisting of Myrou gold and an unworldly aura of beauty and creativity that seems to radiate from the palm-sized round nexus gem embedded within the amulet. The nexus gem is a sacred jewel of swirling elemental mana, almost as if the mana within is locked in an ethereal dance. 

Kánáto then reveals his part of the Kyhosá, a pair of bracelets made with the same gold and oval nexus gems set into it. The bracelets are slender, the gems a mere fraction the size that is in the amulet, but the bracelets are adorned with tiny shimmering beauty essence pearls that glint in the light.

As if using a precious nexus gem wasn’t bad enough. Chozu has to question why a gift is even made of Myrou gold in the first place. It is a sacred metal that should only be used for dedications to Myrou, and judging by the murmurs of the crowd, many do not approve.

It’s clear that Kánáto and Feyan put their soul into making these Kyhosás. Feyan slips the braided gold wire of the amulet around Alysárá’s head, and although the bracelets are too large, being sized for an adult, she lays them into her lap.

With such a special gift, it comes as a surprise to no one that mana starts to condense into the gifts.

Chozu feels great relief that the Kyhosa turned magical and won’t be outdone now. She examines the amulet now that it, too, has become a magic item.

Alysárá’s Kyhosá (Major) (Unique) (Set): This artifact, made from Nexus gems and Myrou gold, is blessed by Myrou herself and filled to the brim with beauty and creativity essence. It was given as a Kyhosá to Alysárá during her Kyholo.

When worn, it enhances Beauty, Creativity, and Elemental spells by 220%, and can store a hundred standard spells. Each piece of this set is tethered so that only one piece can be used to access stored mana.

                              * 

“Are you sure we won’t get into trouble?” Ynoná asks, her head nervously darting side to side to make sure no one is watching.

“As long as you keep your mouth shut!” Papuyo whispers, holding a finger in front of her lips.

Papuyo jiggles the lock with her needles and finally manages to open the door to the forbidden section, a place where new acolytes like them aren’t allowed. They both slip in and close the door behind them before trekking down the dusty and dark hall.

“This was your idea, don’t back out now!” Papuyo says.

“I never said to actually go down here!” Ynoná retorts as quietly as she can.

“Don’t be a wuss. Remember Xárá’s teachings: ‘Challenge hidden falsehoods, for Myrou’s light will always shield you.’”

“But why would the priests hide things? What could they possibly want to keep secret?” Ynoná asks.

“Exactly. What are they hiding?” Papuyo nods. “The first Arch-priestess, Xárá, overthrew the false gods. And now, with the rise of faithlessness in the outer regions of the Nexus, why isn’t the current arch-priestess doing anything? Why isn’t she following in Xárá’s example? There has to be something.”

As they walk down the hall, a growing unease fills Papuyo, but she shoves the feeling down. It’s just her nerves… but it doesn’t feel like nerves; it’s like someone or something is watching them. 

“I’m scared, let's just go,” Ynoná says, her voice a little shaky.

The shadows seem darker, and Papuyo can’t help but feel paranoid. Her breath quickens as her heart beats faster, but she can’t help but feel like there is definitely something here; she can’t back out now!

“It’s just a defensive enchantment or something; don’t be scared,” Papuyo says, holding Ynoná hand firmly, something she didn’t realize she was doing until now.

She pulls Ynoná forward, and upon reaching the first door, Papuyo carefully opens it as quietly as she can. Her ears flick as the door creaks loudly, making her paranoid that someone might have heard. After standing still for a few moments it is clear that their intrusion remains unnoticed, and Papuyo lets out a sigh of relief.

“Can’t you make us quiet with your sound Bond?” Papuyo asks rhetorically.

“Y-yeah,” Ynoná nods and closes her eyes to concentrate for a moment. “No sound will go beyond a few meters, but sound from beyond the barrier will make it to us.” 

“See, we’ll be fine; no one will catch us now,” Papuyo tries to reassure her friend.

“I-I don’t know… I can’t make us invisible. What if someone barges in here and sees us?”

“That won’t happen. Now, let's see what the priests are hiding!” Papuyo strides into the room.

The room is filled with wooden boxes stacked to the ceiling. The crates look old, and some even show the first signs of rotting. The room smells stale, and their swaying tails kick up centuries of dust, making them cough. 

Peeking under the lid of one of the crates, Papuyo can see a lot of papers. Ledgers, historical recordings, lists of previous notable priests, letters, and more. Skimming through a few of them, Papuyo dismisses them, not able to find any damning evidence.

If she had the time, she could probably find incriminating evidence, but most of these just seem like ordinary old records. Unfortunately, they don’t have the time; however, there are other rooms down here. Hopefully, she will find something, either to expose the arch priestess or why no one is doing anything about the rise of faithlessness.

“We should go, Papuyo, we’re going to get found out,” Ynoná says, her heart rate audible even to Papuyo.

“If you want to go, then go, but don’t you dare snitch on me!”

Just then, the door to the forbidden section bangs open, and the sound of two sets of footsteps echoes closer. Ynoná’s face pales, but Papuyo grabs her hand and drags her behind the boxes just in time as the door opens. 

“The statue’s getting worse; I can sense it even from here now.” It was the Arch-priestess.

“Is there really no way to fix it?” high priest Vimeno asks.

“The Guardian says not to let any living thing near it, so no. I’d have thrown it in the dungeon long ago had the Guardian not warned me that the dungeon has living beasts in it.”

“Can we just wall off that room then? So no matter how degraded the statue becomes no one can get near it?”

“Hmm,” The Arch Priestess hums. “Not a bad idea, I’ll ask the Guardian about it.” 

“Ah! Here it is!” High Priest Vimeno says after ruffling through one of the boxes.

“Good. Tusile may have left, but he was meticulous at recording everything.” The Arch-priestess says, the sound of her voice fading as they leave the room and close the door.

“That was too close,” Ynoná says, creeping out from around the boxes. “We should have never come down here”

“What is this statue they were talking about?” Papuyo asks, almost to herself.

The creepy feeling down here seems to be caused by the statue the Arch priestess was talking about, but why is it here? And what does it do? 

 “Sounds like it’s worth investigating,” Papuyo concludes.

“No, we need to leave before we get in serious trouble!”

“Just that one room, Ynoná, they won’t return; they were just here.”

“I don’t like it. It feels too creepy down here, and I think something might be watching us. Please, let's just go already!”

“Nothing is watching us, Or we’d already be in trouble,” Papuyo tries to reason with her.

“I don’t think it's the priests. Can’t you feel that sinister presence? It’s probably that. Just forget the statue, Papuyo. I’m leaving; I’m not going to risk it; I’m too scared.”

“Fine.” Papuyo relents, noticing Ynoná’s trembling legs and tail. “but I’m going to find out what’s so secret about that statue; this is the light of Myrou guiding me.”

They part ways with a final look. Papuyo strides deeper into the forbidden section, the uneasy feeling growing stronger as she peeks into room after room until she finally finds it. A large empty room save for a single crumbling statue of Xárá at the far end of the wall.

Papuyo strides a few paces into the room and suddenly feels an ominous, hungry presence in the statue. It’s like the presence wants to devour her whole, an enigmatic maw waiting for her to get just one more step closer. She falters and can feel her legs and tail shaking violently. Yet, she doesn’t dare to run. Then, all of a sudden, the feeling passes, and she feels a strong pull from it as if she had passed a test, and it beckons her.

Papuyo steps forward, walking right up to the statue. It calls out to her, begging her to set it free. It is as if she is being compelled, or perhaps forced to feel a desire to free whatever is inside the statue. Almost as if she is being puppeteered, Papuyo places a hand on the chest of the statue. A large piece suddenly falls off, revealing a beautiful emerald amulet that shines with a beauty beyond anything she has felt, even beyond that of the warm, embracing beauty from the Likeness of Myrou. It is an uplifting sensation, one that almost makes her feel as if she is floating among stars. She can feel the very essence of beauty making her movement more graceful and elegant. 

She has to wonder why this amulet has been locked up, sealed within an old statue. Rather than leaving it here, where no one can appreciate its beauty, why not use it? Why not wear it and embrace its power? It wants to be worn, it needs to be worn.

Taking the amulet, Papuyo yanks it free from the statue, making it crumble into a pile of rubble and startling her. A brief moment of clarity washes over her, and something in the back of her mind screams at her to throw the amulet away. But she can’t bring herself to look away from the amulet and the way light seems to almost be captured within. 

A part of her tries to resist the amulet, but it can’t stop her from putting it on, or rather, she can’t help but feel like she wants to put it on. However, when she slips it over her neck, a sense of accomplishment washes over her, and all resistance vanishes.

“Well done, my child…” 

Snapping her head to the side, Papuyo can see her, the ascended form of Xárá. Just as depicted in iconographies she’s read, a radiant figure stands to her side with six wings of shimmering light. Her eyes glow with golden beauty, and her blond hair floats around her like a silken cloak. Her tail is very long, almost twice the length of a normal person’s, and seems to sparkle with hypnotic patterns as it dances elegantly behind her.

“You are my chosen one, Papuyo; you will be my vessel of my reawakening,”