“Don’t you see?”
The god whispered in her heart. The demon fell to her knees.
Is this not good? To find the barrier, and break it?
The demon – the woman, now – she was so small, sohuman. She staggered about, her knees, her hands before her, like she was trying to pray.
Is this not what we want?
Who can comprehend the mind of a god?
I have a use for you.
Rui rose. She knew, now, what she had to do. She gripped the broken spear, cried out in fear and strength, and stabbed the demon in the heart. Her own chest rent with blood.
And she died.
In the dark, there is silence.
Then, there is something else. Something calling to her.
Rui is alone. She is nothing.
She is formless, endless, nowhere and everywhere at once.
The shroud on her heart has been cut.
She becomes aware. Of herself. Of the dark.
Of the barrier between worlds.
The darkness shifts.
It becomes. It coalesces.
It starts to change.
It appears before her, solid: an awakening.
A vastness of earth, cold air and nightfall, wind, soil, sodden leaves.
There is rain. There is a tree. A growth of vines and roots. There is a voice.
The dark takes shape; the silence alters once again.
She hears the world. She hears everything. She feels it in her bones.
She hears a distant sound, like bells, like laughter. Like a life she knows.
It is calling to her, familiar and painful, and too far off to see.
The barrier: a reach of darkness.
It shifts into a face.
There is a breath. A new change, far away.
The Hososhi smiles.
