SHE WHO INVITES ♦ 100Y Job

It was a happy moment like no other. Little had even been formed yet, but that did not stop the warm rush of emotions for the divine being. There she was, draped in a beautiful garment that was colored in a rush of flowers, as if an everlasting garden had decorated the kimono itself. It seemed to have been weaved from the finest strands of silk, and the obi belt and neatly tied ribbon to match complimented her lovely style of dress. It was not something she had picked, her clothing, but somehow it had come into being along with her own essence. Her gown, a pinkish rosy purple in color, which represented some kind of keen and rare royalty, could only reflect her newly created soul, which was only as old as her first heartbeats to pass, and seemed to be as fragile as the morning dew. Her skin was pure white, like delicate porcelain china, and soft and unblemished and unmarked. Her hair was black like shiny obsidian, volcanic glass that had yet to exist; yet somehow, she could just feel it and quietly mouth the words as if one day, such a thing would come into existence. The frame of her body appeared delicate and dainty, all while carrying an odd youthful strength underneath her snow-white skin. The features of her face were perfect in proportion to one another, as she had rosy lips, a sturdy chin, dark and thin eyebrows, and long, black eyelashes right above her deep-hued eyes. Her eyes were a light shaded and bright color of pink, and while she could not see them for herself, lacking any sort of mirror to view her reflection, something about them heralded that she would be the only one to ever possess such a unique color of orbs. Nothing in the future would ever come into being by means of natural ways with such a color in their eyes. Instead, natural colors would echo that of which had to come next into existence, in regards to appearance: the leaves of trees and the blades of grass, the bark of great trunks and the rich soils and sands of the earth, and the brilliance of the skies and the winds. But never would the color of eyes match the tint of Izanami’s own eyes.

Izanami. That was the name she had been given, as she just heard it resound in her head before it continued to echo throughout her existence and reality, the past few seconds, the present in which she breathed, and the future that had yet to come. 伊弉冉尊, they called her, again and again. Izanaminomikoto, or to pace the meaning in her head, Izanami no Mikoto. The meaning she could give the strange words seemed pleasant, and filled her with further happiness. “She Who Invites”. Did she invite? The woman certainly hoped that she could, hearing the words that were her name reverberate to her even from the future. She would invite, but while she understood the significance and value to the words, what did it truly mean when one broke it all down further? She had yet to discover so much, but it was already quite overwhelming for the young divine being. She could only look to the ones who had created her existence there in the first place. The first gods, Kunitokotachi and Amenominakanushi, who had been the ones to summon them into being. Them?

Pink eyes trailed up from her colorful kimono to peer at the figure standing next to her. He was beautiful, with long hair that was shaded in onyx-hued ivory black, while he had slightly off-white skin, more akin to olive than to her own fair snowy white. He was well toned with muscles that seemed to gentle ripple as they flowed with his strong movements. He was much taller than her, and wore a haori over his garment woven with the purest of pearl and opal pigmented silk, along with streams of deep red and shaded crimson to outline his obi. His name was given to him just as hers had been given and received by her. As he mouthed it in silence, Izanami somehow noticed it and breathed out the actual words first. Izanagi. He who invites.

Together, they were would receive their first charge from the two gods who brought them into existence. And only together, would Izanagi and Izanami create the first lands.

~~~

It was the average beautiful day, with bright blue skies, warm rays of sun, and a slight breeze carrying the sweet aromas of nature on the wind. The forest next to the meadow was a lovely one to behold. The treetops whispered to each other as their leaves brushed the wind, stuck in the idle gossip of the woods. The grass below was long, but not overgrown, as the animals that called this place their home had trodden down webs of paths and trails all throughout the forest.

The reason that Izayuki was here was to get away from the loud and busy city life of Rose Garden. While the town was peaceful for the most part, the eastern raccoon dog was naturally attracted to her preferred environment in the peaceful forests. Silent for the most part, except for a small, low rumble of happiness rising from the back of her throat, the fluffy creature padded through the colorful meadow. Reaching the base of a tree at the edge of the meadow, and the entrance to the forest, the tiny tanuki gazed up at the lowest branches.

Summoning some strength in her short legs, the tanuki jumped, and attempted to hook onto the trunk of the tree with her claws. Secured tightly to the bark, she began to climb her way up to the branch which she had locked her pink eyes on. Pink eyes. She had possessed them ever since she was small; as long as she could remember. They were unnatural, though upon viewing her reflection as a tiny cub, always present, and natural to her. It was not until she learned in future years that it was not every day that one discovered someone with pink eyes. Why was that? She noted it, yet never bothered to try to figure out the reason behind it. Honestly, she could have cared less.

Perched comfortably on the thick branch, Izayuki gazed out at the relaxing meadow, grinning and flicking the tip of her fluffy tail in a relaxed manner. For once, she could sit back in peace, and not worry about a jump scare wake-up by one of her guildmates. In her time of relaxation, however, the Bakedanuki finally put down her guard. And that would be her undoing.

How could one ever suspect that their very soul was anything but their own? After all, they had come to know it all their life, should they have the ability to sense it. The idea that she was straying so close to death and the underworld itself was nonexistent. She knew not of the circumstances, but did not notice the opening so close by.

After all, no matter where one stood in the world, they would die, and before too much time passed, someone else would be born to take their place. It was only the natural cycle of the world; one that never seemed to cease, or grant anyone a break. Life and death was all around, and lingered close. The hungry fangs and stinging claws of death would press against one’s skin as its foul breath could be felt against the back of the neck, hot, smelly, and menacing. Every day was spent like this, and no person or living being questioned it, or realized how close it truly was. That is, until the claws completely would pierce the skin of their time, and the jaws would close in all around them. From there, true darkness would be discovered. Nobody could deny that there was a strange peace and beauty to it all-- a sickly grace and an elegant movement towards perfect order and of course, rest. In a way, was death not a step away from chaos, even if it did not seem as though the concept was quite so pure? At the same time, it could cause so much grief, longing, and desperation the very heartbeat that death took something out of the world.

Nostalgia rang in her mind as she began to contemplate the subject. After all, when one was left to their own silence and thoughts, many things came about from it. Depressing topics was one of them, but for Izayuki, there was a reason why her mind was heading in this direction. It was because of her soul. It was throwing a veil over her eyes, and forcing her mind to begin seeing the once optimistic and relaxing scene as something else.

In the peaceful meadow where the god slayer lounged, she could focus on a reptile successfully capturing a moth, and eagerly consuming it within a matter of seconds. Never could she look at the scene as so common and miniscule the same way again. In the end, death took every single thing in its path, and struck the land with tragedy. Yet… where there was death, was life not also present? Above her head in the same tree where she perched, the twittering of birds had begun to ring out, and she could pick out the higher pitched and rather childish chirps of the hatchlings in their nests as they called out to their parents with hungry beaks. Before too long, the parents would eventually return, and the babies fed and nourished, and soon content, at least for the present moments. Once they grew up, they would move on, far from the nest, and keep on producing life, and thus be countering death. While these thoughts seemed to sit on the lighter side of things, but the darker knowledge still remained that one day, death would hunt the life-creating pair down too, and soon find just the right moment to close down its jaws, insert its fangs and claws into the fragility of time, and deliver that terrible sting once again.

Comparing death to a beast was simple enough, seeing as the goddess of death herself had plugged her soul into a simple beast before passing on. The legends held true, but the young guild master was not keen on the details of the myth, nor was she even thinking about it.

The underworld loomed close by, ready to force the tanuki to fall into its darkest depths. She, too, would die.

Life. Concept so vast and ever-present that people often forgot about it during their lives. As someone who was focused on daily tasks, doing the same thing over and over again, why would you even think about such a thing. Far away from the battlefield, sickness and poverty. People like that often forgot about the concept of life and death as they swam across the sea of their lives without stopping once. But there was one fleeting memory that appeared stronger than all else. Memory of a young girl with short silver hair. She did not wear much, showing that she probably wasn't of any rich family. Only light leather clothes that were fit for traversing long distances over land which would not provide much in the natural hostile elements. And across her sat a large, inhuman being. A golem, special kind of Machias. Machias were sentient robotic race rarely present in Fiore. So a golem like this was quite the rare sight indeed. He too wore a strange attire, almost like a military-grade coat with leather outfit beneath it. One look was enough to tell anyone that he was through much already. They were sitting in an empty room that they rented inside of an old inn. Village in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by golden fields of wheat, ready to be harvested at any time. People were running all around, working or having fun. It was a peaceful memory, one that could almost bring tears to one's eyes.

But that was only a static image. There was much more to all of this, as the golem handed few empty pieces of paper to the girl and told her to write the most important things she had onto them. But she was to do it in secret, so that he would not see. He too had one single piece of paper that he wrote something onto. Only one or two minutes later, the game they were about to play was prepared. The golem would tell the girl that she should show him one of her cards, the one that had the absolutely most important thing in her life written on it. He would compare it to his own card and if the girl's card had something of greater value than his, she would get to keep it. But if not, then he would keep her card and then she would have to imagine her life without that one most important thing. And so they compared. And in the end, the golem kept the girls card. It was a disappoint moment for her as small hits of tears appeared in her eyes. And she asked him. What could possibly be more important than my family? And the golem looked at her for a while before handing her his card. But even after reading it, she could only tilt her head in confusion. Perhaps she was still much too young to properly understand this. And that was understandable. So the golem would try to explain it all to her. Because what was written on his card was the word Life. Without your own life, you cannot have anything else. If you were to die, you would loose your family. You would loose your home, your money and your friends. Your life is the most important thing you have.

Those words resonated within the girl. Even though she didn't understand it completely, she made sure to remember it! Even though she still loved her family, the golem in front of her, she was supposed to love herself even more. Because without herself, she would be incapable of loving him! Perhaps it was a bit of a childish logic, but not everything in the world has to be complicated, right? To lead a peaceful life filled with love and beauty. Was that not a wish of many? But not everything always works out. The girl aged, and so did the golem. And eventually, the golem broke down, never to walk and talk again. And in her grief, or perhaps somewhere during her journey, the girl forgot about what she was supposed to treasure most. In the end, she ended up sacrificing herself for another. To save her best friend, she threw away the one most important thing she had. And just like how the golem told her in the past, that fact alone made everyone else very sad. Because the girl was no longer around for them, and they could no longer smile or cry together. A memory like that, why was it so powerful? Why was it here in the first place? Why did it seems so sad... yet happy? The goddess was having a hard time trying to understand it all. Her mind was wandering too far, the depths of darkness swallowing her whole. And then she opened her emerald green eyes. She was still there, in Earthland. The ground around her made out of cold stone, damp and moist. Deep underground, the only warmth she could hope for was one produced by the burning torches on walls, illuminating the whole hall with different cell doors on each side.

Shaking her head, the moon goddess realized that her body was still completely different from the one she usually had. A long, black snake creeping around the floor with it's shining eyes piercing the dimness of this place. Ah, that was right. She transformed into this creature so that she could fit between the bars and infiltrate this place. And the things she saw just now... memories that were not her own. Instead, they were her sister's. Their memories connected when she was resurrected, their lineage becoming one for a single moment. She often dreamt them, this was the very first time when she actually got lost in them during the day. And during an important mission like this nonetheless. She ought to be more careful from here on out, as even a single misstep could mean her own demise, or more likely, demise of her partner. How exactly did she grow attached to this man? She was still unsure. But what she knew was that the girl he first met was probably long gone. Soaked in poison of fate, the venomous goddess was changed. She could not stop thinking about what she had lost and what she would loose in the future. And if not for other pleasant things in life, she would probably be well on her path towards complete destruction, life for the sake of revenge alone. But the Eater of Names was not quite worth it. She should not throw her life away in order to fulfill a goal of killing him. That much she gathered from the memory she witnessed mere moments ago. Still, she had to wonder. Just who was that golem? And inorganic being, yet one that understood mortality and weight of one's life. Was something like that... truly possible?

After all, she knew that there were creatures that had no fear of death, nor life. Those that were truly immortal... the Miracle Demons. Those that gave her life and power. Beings that lacked soul from the very beginning and thus could never loose it. They would continue floating through the life without any effort with their power unmatched by anything in the universe. And forever they would repeat the process of trying to entertain themselves by causing suffering in those with finite lifespan. Was something like that a blessing or curse? The goddess was incapable of providing a proper answer for herself. But did she even need one? It was not what this job was about. Sounds of faint breathing and chains moving. The door that was opened some time ago and a small hole with iron bars. A pitch black serpent was now crawling through it, it's green eyes of jealous staring at Cirven, the demon chained in front of it. And if he noticed, then he probably already knew who this being was. Because he was sure to notice the black crow in the corner of his cell, one that was hidden inside of shadows from anyone and anything. With a slow transformation that tore apart the serpent's scales and skin, a girl would soon stand in front of him. One that was still not quite human because of a pair of fox ears, as well as a long tail. One of her hands would extend forward and grab the weapon stuck inside of the demon's body, forcing it even deeper and twisting it around a bit. Pain. Even if he felt it, he would not die. Not from something like this. But... was he prepared for that fate to eventually consume him? If the answer to that was yes, then she could not forgive him.

But eventually, she would pull the weapon out of him, as silent as she was until now. The crow would return to one of her shoulders as a dark, liquid matter started seeping out of her clothes and falling to the ground. Magic of darkness. Not, it was something more than just magic. The power of immortal beings, power based on miracles themselves. Something that was unaffected stone which restricted the flow of magical energy. The darkness would eventually take a form of two sword-like shapes, both completely black in color and giving off a crimson glow. And with one single gesture, they would penetrate the chains and cuffs, freeing the demon effortlessly. That was her desire, what she wanted to do. She did not care if there was someone else who wanted to hurt Cirven for whatever reason they could possibly have. Because she still needed him. And if they would try to take him away from her, she would not stop until every single one of them was dead. That was right, if they were to return in this very instant, she would make sure to execute every single one of them. She was a selfish goddess that did not care for the well being of people she did not know. Or perhaps she was now a demon, clad in poison as she adjusted the new gloves of black leather, covered in strange runes, she was now wearing. It would get some getting used to, but they were now completely necessary it seemed.

"You want to live too, don't you?"

CLAWED MY WAY TO VICTORY

Death. . . Death was everywhere, from the falling of leaves in Autumn to the last breath an animal gave as its body gave up on Life. It was everywhere and nowhere at once, insignificant and significant, miniscule and large scale; it had an array of faces and no face at all. A person’s life could end in terror, or peace, or sorrow, or perhaps, it had no ending to their life at all, but they came back upon “death.” These were the immortals, the ones who could die, but never truly die, never truly reincarnate, but reincarnate back into themselves. These were the eternal, the ones who saw countless days and weeks, months, and years, through their lives, watched as the world changed before their very eyes. There were many, but very few, who survived the long lives that entailed being immortal or being eternal and many sought out ways to die. And those who did not seek out ways to end their lives? They continued to live, continued to watch as the world crumbled slowly from what they knew it to be.


The world was a place of constant change, constant love and constant pain, of constant happiness and constant sorrow, and all of the above not already mentioned. People lived and people died, it was as simple as that; from birth until death, people walked the land living, breathing, and seeing all that they could. They watched and wondered, sought everything possible, felt everything they could, explored the known and unknown or hid away from life. Life. . . Life was what made up the world. What made up a person or animal. Better yet, Life was people, animals, plants. . . it was everything. It is everything. What made up this planet was not material objects or creatures that were meant to feed other creatures, it was made up of Life, just as it was made up of Death. These two things could not live without the other, could not function on a daily basis without one running out of the other. Life pushed Death into existence and Death pushed Life into existence because without Death, the world would be overpopulated and without Life, Death could not be possible.

But between all of that, there existed another world, a place where the dead could continue living on without actually living on. They roamed this dimension, as deep and dark and dangerous as the world they roamed was, and lived until they had to truly live again. It was not a horrid place as one may think; it did not have monsters or eternal torment, and it did not have endless cold or endless heat. This world was just as perfect as the living world; in fact, it could have easily been mistaken as a replicate of our world, but it wasn’t. The Underworld had subtle differences between ours and nonexistence, where some things existed there, but didn’t exist in either other worlds. Yet, it was a beautiful place, nonetheless, a land of wanton creatures, but also a land of mystery and peace like no other. And here, this place was ruled, ruled by many, but ruled by one; many who claimed to be the ruler, but never could desire to reach Her depth of power.

News would quickly reach Her ears of these mysterious portals appearing all across Her land with no real evidence as to why. She would watch from Her window and stare blankly into the wasteland of which She resided in, watching and waiting for one to appear. Never would one come to Her, though; the portals a complete mystery as to why they were appearing in Her land to drop of individuals. These individuals, they didn’t belong in Her domain, yet here the portals were bringing them to Her, like they wanted these people to be Hers. The Queen, She would leave Her castle and wander into the wasteland, roaming the empty fields and searching for an answer to Her questions. Neither would any of these questions be answered, not even by the spirits that roamed the Underworld and watched these portals appear. Each person that was dropped off? It wasn’t their body, it wasn’t their spirit, but it was their soul that was left there alone.

For souls to have entered Her world, they had to fight their own monsters and learn just what it meant to come to an end. They were never truly alone, for She would always be with them, watching and waiting as each soul came and went about their cycles. But these souls that entered now, they were different; they were still alive, as though where they had come from had not truly died. They had not fought their monsters, but had looked deep into the abyss and fell too far staring into the emptiness that followed. And it shalt be learned that he who fights monsters must be careful, lest he thereby become a monster, and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. It is these spirits who are not ready, yet they have come down into the abyss and wander Her land, taking up space that is precious. For what reason was it that these souls fell down to the Underworld? Why come to a place of Her domain and wander so. . . aimlessly?

Marceline looked to the blue skies of her world, shielding her reddened irises from the blazing sun that beat down upon her. The Mistress was a peculiar one to begin with, dressed strangely in attire that looked too old to be currently up to date with fashions. Her hair was done-up in a messy bun, tied together with a ribbon that hung down the left side of her head and entangled into more hair that lay flat to her back. She held odd markings across her neck and what bare skin was visible on her chest, stained into her skin like permanent artwork. Why, who was intruding upon her land? Entering her domain without her permission and for no given reason she could think of? A frown crossed over her lips and she looked away from the sky, down to the burning sands beneath her feet before she began to walk. Simply walk, hoping to run across a portal that would open up and give her ideas as to what was going on with them.

WC: 1,065/8,750

Together, they were would receive their first charge from the two gods who brought them into existence. And only together, would Izanagi and Izanami create the first lands.
Their elder gods and creators would bestow upon them a gift- a spear decorated with the most dazzling of jewels. The gemstones were of many various hues, all almost being the first of their kind. What would later inspire amethyst, diamond, beryl and emerald, opal, sapphire, ruby, aquamarine, zircon, topaz, garnet, quartz, and more adorned the weapon that had been given to the two young deities, who were taking in their very first breaths of life.

The spear was named Amenonuboko, the ‘heavenly jeweled spear’. Izanagi, the man dressed in a fine, silk, masculine kimono took the spear and held it tightly. They were summoned into existence in order to be charged with the creation of the land. The heavenly spear was anything but normal, and before too much time passed, the two new deities approached a place known as Ame no Ukihashi, the floating bridge of heaven. The ‘bridge’ was laced with clouds, which reflected the sun of the rich dawn.

Taking the naginata, the gift from the elder gods, Izanagi struck the water and began to churn the seas. The oceans were stirred in vast proportions, and as he pulled the jeweled spear from the water, the salty droplets began to fall from the tip of the blade back into the ocean. Below the bridge, those drops of ocean water mystically began to form new land. Onogoroshima was what they named it, or Onokoro Island. It was the ‘self forming island’, and the place where the god and goddess of creation would descend from the bridge of heaven, and make their new home.

Time passed, and the two grew close. Eventually, as the elders expected, the two wished to be married. After building a magnificent and magical palace, Yahiro Dono, a marriage ceremony was condoned and held at the pillar, Ame no Mihashira, the Pillar of Heaven. However, all did not go so smoothly, as Izanami was the first to speak, which broke tradition. Izanagi chose to ignore it, and the marriage ceremony was completed. After many months, two children were birthed, Hiruko, also known as Ebisu, and Awashima, but arrived in the heavens and earth deformed. Because of this, they were considered demons, not gods.

It was the curse of breaking tradition during the marriage ceremony, with Izanami speaking first. The two held another marriage ceremony, going around the Pillar of Heaven once again, with Izanagi speaking first. After the tradition was mended, the two were blessed with many children; most notably the Ouyashima, the Great Islands: Awaji, Iyo, Ogi, Tsukushi, Iki, Tsushima, Sado, and Yamato. More children came along after the Ouyashima chain, however, and Izanami finally gave birth to Kagutsuchi, the incarnation of fire. Upon giving birth, the flames from Kagutsuchi were enough to burn and kill off the deity, while leaving her husband infuriated with his grief.

Izanagi released his anger as the newborn incarnation of fire felt the full wrath from the god of creation. With his sword, Abe no Ohabari, he beheaded Kagutsuchi. The blood to drip off of his blade, infused with the power of the late Izanami, created two children- Kuraokami, the god of rain and the weather, and the sea god Watatsumi.

Delicate hands traced the words on the scroll, written in clear and fine calligraphy. All Kanji, nothing her young helper would be able to read. This was not for future lessons for her students, however. Fine, pursed lips smiled gracefully as her dim red eyes narrowed at the last sentence. Only two children from the blood of the incarnation of fire?

She eyed the other scrolls resting next to the open one. The woman had extremely long hair, going well beyond her waist, that was pitch black in color, matching the hue of shiny, well polished, obsidian. She wore duller-hued garments, contrasting from what she typically fancied. A dark blood red kimono, with patterns of abstract and intricate designs. Lining the impressionist shapes were silver threads, faded and no longer shiny and metallic. The obi she wore was black in color, and the ribbon remained tied behind her as neatly as ever. More tales of the history of realm she roamed, volumes to follow after she finished the first one. Omitted from the records were the words of her own birth, which amused the refined Enenra.

The final traces of smoke that Kagutsuchi gave off as he died remained in the world, powered by his divine heritage. He was a direct descendent of the deities of creation, Izanagi and Izanami, after all. The smoke eventually developed a will of its own, becoming self-aware, and refusing to dissipate into the atmosphere. When noticed by others, deities and mortals alike, the smoke was described to be like lightweight fabric. However, only those that were pure of heart could actually make out the form of the divinely-born smoke. The being began to be known among the rumors as ‘Enenra’, or 煙々羅. The Lightweight-Fabric Smoke.

It was her own birth, and one that the historic record of the creation failed to acknowledge. Not that Kemuira minded too much. To her, it was merely an amusing idea to contemplate. Reading the chronicle scroll brought about another thought, however; about the young tanuki to have visited her recently. The only reason the Enenra Youkai had agreed to help was because of the debt she owed to Rika Riyoshi, a noble among Ayakashi, and the mother of the one she had been asked to assist.

The Enenra had recognized the soul of the Bakedanuki. A youkai soul? No. A human soul? Definitely not. The soul was akin to her own nature, and upon that recognition, Kemuira had turned to her studies of the creation chronicles. It was very much a thing that intrigued her, and a thought that remained in the back of her mind, yet to be put to rest. Opening the scroll further, the smoke mononoke continued her reading and research, with the grim smile still maintained on her face.

~~~

The world of Yomi made its way closer, breaking the folds in space and time as it sought its quarry. The underworld loomed close by, ready to force the tanuki to fall into its darkest depths. She, too, would be finished off.

The silver-furred tanuki instantly noticed the scent of the young girl, as well as the presence of the Black Rose guildmark. As she heard the formal version of her name called, the small raccoon dog prepared to leap down from the tree to approach her youthful guildmate. Delicately, Izayuki lowered her body close to her paws, and drew up the energy to take a flying leap from the thick tree branch to the ground next to Charlotte.

Her fun in the flying leap was short-lived, however, as the most unexpected thing took place before her rosy eyes. Out of where she chose to land, darkness engulfed the vicinity, opening up a rift in the space itself as the blackness loomed out from the ground. It threatened to swallow her whole, and unable to react in time, the Ayakashi felt herself falling into the deep, dark void.

Darkness ensued; one that the Wizard Saint was unable to fight.