Hime to Kaeru Part 1

The City of Lies was alive.

Lanterns, silk banners, and floating petals filled the avenues with color as Doji Akito rode beneath Ryoko Owari’s towering gates. The Kiku Matsuri was only days away, and already the city pulsed with celebration. Perfumed air swirled with the scents of roasting chestnuts and spiced sake, while the ringing laughter of courtesans beckoned from painted balconies. Vendors called their wares; children dashed between silk-clad legs, chasing paper kites on twine. Musicians played Shamisen in the teahouses, their melodies drifting like incense through the summer haze.
Akito breathed deep and exhaled with satisfaction. Now this, he thought, is a city worthy of a prince.
Behind him, his Yojimbo Daidoji Saburo sulked in silence. His horse—a dull gray creature as joyless as its rider—clopped along the street with an air of resignation. Akito had barely noticed when Saburo had drawn his hood up to block the sun, nor when he had grumbled about the heat, nor when he had sighed at the crowds pressing in around them.
Saburo had always been like that. Sullen. Servile. Small.
“How does it feel to be abroad, Saburo?” Akito teased, guiding his own white stallion through the busy thoroughfare with effortless grace. “Now that you’ve abandoned all those base peasant worries?”
Saburo sniffed. “I worry because you do not, my lord.”
Akito chuckled, leaning back in the saddle. “A samurai who worries is a samurai who doubts. And a samurai who doubts—”
“—is a samurai who dies. Yes, I’ve heard.” Saburo’s tone was carefully neutral. “Forgive my concern.”
Akito ignored him. Instead, his attention turned to the palace ahead: a grand compound of curved rooftops and cascading lanterns, standing high above the lesser estates. A pair of armored Scorpion guards stood at the entrance, their menpō-masked faces unreadable as they lowered their spears to block the road.
“Doji Akito,” he announced, flashing them his most dazzling smile as Saburo flashed their travel papers. “Here for the Governor's hospitality.”
A moment of silence passed. Then, as if a spell had been lifted, the guards withdrew their weapons and bowed deeply.
“Welcome, honored guest,” one said. “Governor Shosuro Hyobu awaits.”
The Shosuro Palace was a marvel of symmetrical illusion. From outside, it appeared simple but properly grand; on the inside the rooms seemed to branch off of one another, seeming too big for the walls that contained them. Somewhere unseen, a shamisen played, the melody deliberate and hypnotic.
And there, standing at the top of the lacquered staircase, was Shosuro Hyobu.
The governor of Ryoko Owari Toshi was a vision of poise—tall, elegant, with a black widow’s beauty sharpened by years of power. Her robes were crimson and black, the colors of her clan, and her Fan was a lacquered thing of deep mahogany, held just below eyes that missed nothing.
Akito stepped forward with a bow, measured yet effortless. “Governor Hyobu,” he said, letting her name roll from his tongue like a poem. “The splendor of your city is exceeded only by your own.”
The corner of her lips quirked, almost imperceptibly. “A most gracious compliment, Doji-sama. And so soon upon your arrival?”
“I know beauty when I see it.”
“A discerning eye, then. You must tell me what else you see in my city.”
She started walking towards a hidden meeting room which overlooked The Scorpion Gardens and Bathhouse.
"Every room here seems hidden" Thought Akito.
Courtiers whispered as they passed, watching the young Crane noble and the Scorpion widow as if they had stepped from the pages of a Pillow Book.
Saburo leaned in to advise his charge. "This woman is older than your mother, my lord."
"And she's been without a husband for years, I hear." Akito added, missing Saburo's point entirely, which surely was no mistake.
Saburo slunk back into place, playing the part of dutiful protector while rolling his eyes.
If Akito noticed, he said nothing. He was too busy basking in the warmth of Hyobu’s presence, the elegance of her movements, the low murmur of her voice as she spoke of the festival to come.
Outside, the lanterns swayed in the evening breeze, their flickering light casting long shadows against the walls.

The ferry to Teardrop Island rocked gently against the water, its lacquered deck polished smooth by years of travelers. Normally, these boats carried a dozen passengers at a time, but Akito had seen fit to hire this one for himself and Saburo alone. Privacy was, after all, a luxury befitting a prince.
Akito had his gaze fixed on the fantastical island in front of them. Teardrop Island was a floating world ripped from his stories, and made reality in this wonderous city.
Saburo sat across from him, arms folded, face sour. The bodyguard had barely said a word since they left the governor’s manor, stewing in his own thoughts like over-brewed tea.
“You disapprove,” Akito said at last, watching the city lights ripple across the dark water.
“I do not judge my lord’s tastes.”
Akito laughed, tapping a finger against the railing. “How diplomatic of you.”
Saburo exhaled sharply. “She’s a dangerous woman, my lord.”
“I should hope so.” Akito grinned. "But I'm a lucky man."
Saburo’s silence said otherwise.
A beat passed before he shifted in his seat. “The daughter,” he muttered. “Kimi. She would be a more fitting match.”
Akito’s gaze slid lazily toward his bodyguard. “Oh?”
“She’s young, lively, beautiful. Proper, even if she's already betrothed to Ide Asamitsu, but you have no intention of marrying anyone either way.” Saburo’s voice was careful, measured.
Akito waved a hand dismissively. “She’s a child. What could she offer me?”
Saburo’s grip tightened slightly on his sleeve. “I must remind you that you are only a year older than her.”
"Worlds apart!"
"Unlike the governor?"
Akito smirked, but said nothing. The conversation hung between them, unspoken truths buried beneath the lapping of waves.
The ferry turned, and Teardrop Island came into view—an oasis of color and revelry, its lights reflected like jewels upon the water. Painted bridges arched over winding canals, laughter spilled from lantern-lit teahouses, and the scent of incense mingled with the salty breeze. It was a floating dream, a storybook come to life.
Akito exhaled in satisfaction. “Now this,” he murmured, “is what I came to see.”

Teardrop Island was a floating dream, its vibrant colors and scents of incense weaving into the very fabric of the night. Akito walked the streets with ease, his silken robes brushing the air like an emperor’s procession. Saburo trailed behind, a nervous shadow of disapproval cloaked in the gloom of his mood.
Their personal guide led them up to The House of the Morning Star, a teahouse that shimmered in the soft light of the lanterns hanging overhead. Inside, delicate figures in fine kimonos moved like living sculptures—silent, graceful, like an ancient performance being painted in real time. Kicho, the young Geisha who ran the house, greeted them with measured warmth, and they ordered a private room.
While they waited for the food, Akito allowed himself to be lost in the elegance of the place as Saburo only had eyes for the girls floating by.
"Akito-sama, my lord, how do you plan to have your father sponsor your visit?" Saburo asked his lord after some mental math.
"Hm?" Akito quickly replied, giving himself more time to think.
"His latest letter to you seemed quite...insistant...that a shadow of bad luck is plauging your coffers" Saburo repeated, while keeping his eyes open for cheaper alternatives.
"My luck will turn around, it always does. Have some faith, Saburo-san." Akito capped the conversation as they turned a corner onto the main street.
Akito already had his evening planned out, but it couldn't hurt to browse some more. A table was ordered to watch the Kiku Matsuri evening show while enjoying the local delicacies. A room was ordered to watch the fireworks from.
A second geisha-house was perused, The House of Foreign Stories.
The second house was rejected by the young lord; too few servants, no balcony facing the fireworks, too foreign food.
The only thing that caught the duo's eyes was the owner. A marvelous woman, in every sense of the word; tall, golden hair, blue eyes, strange robes. The cranes left, slightly stunned, but were quickly jostled back into the moment as the revelry around them approached.
A juggling troupe, dressed in brightly colored robes, passed by, their acrobats tumbling gracefully in the light. Their leader, a short, stout man, tossed flaming torches between his hands as if they were toys. The crowd around them cheered as the musiscians played a fast tune, and Akito smiled, amused by the spectacle.
But then, in a blur of motion, something—or rather, someone—darted between the performers. The music halted unevenly and children yelped as one of the shamisen-players was chased off. The culprit had disappeared as if the shadows themselves had swallowed him whole.
Akito couldn’t help but chuckle, but his attention soon shifted.
A faint, rhythmic clap, clap, clap echoed from behind him—soft but deliberate.
He turned, and there, standing just a few feet away, was a figure that seemed to belong to another world altogether.A man, tall and lean, dressed in elegant foreign robes that shimmered in the dim lantern light. His face was sharp, his eyes glinting with amusement, and his lips curved into a grin that was both sly and inviting. His skin was darker than mahogany and his face painted in morbid fashion, something that, for Akito, did not seem fitting for the coming Kiku Matsuri festivities.
“Ah, I see,” he said, as if reading Akito’s thoughts. “A man of taste, I presume.” His fingers flicked, and a single wooden playing card appeared between them, spinning effortlessly from hand to hand. With a flourish, the card landed on the palm of his hand. Akito watched, intrigued.
He bowed low, an exaggerated gesture that was part showmanship, part mystery.
“Kantan, at your service. Physician by trade and fortuneteller by calling” the man said with a voice like velvet. “Fortune is a fickle mistress, Doji-sama. But me? I deal in certainty.”
With a smooth motion, Kantan-Sensei fanned the cards out in front of Akito—each back the same: a human skull. The cards shimmered in the lantern-lit evening, a beckoning promise.
“Step inside, and I’ll show you what fate has in store.”
As he spoke, the alley behind him seemed to shift, flickering like an illusion. Thick candles sparked to life, casting eerie shadows as if the very space itself had rearranged itself. Where there had been only dark stone walls, a door now stood, carved with intricate patterns and surrounded by wooden masks of warriors from far away. The air seemed charged with energy, a subtle crackle that hinted at something beyond the ordinary.
Akito felt the pull—too strong to ignore. He glanced over his shoulder, but Saburo was nowhere in sight. The bodyguard was lost in his own musings, too far away to see what had just transpired.
Without hesitation, Akito stepped toward the mysterious door, his curiosity overwhelming any doubt. Kantan-Sensei’s smile deepened, as if he had expected this from the moment he first appeared. Saburo's haragei, the gut feeling of a trained samurai, recoiled, telling him that the path in front of him led only downwards. Easy to follow, hard to walk back.
"M-my lord..." he stammered as he reached out to grab Akito's sleeve.
"Saburo-san..." Akito responded without turning his eyes away from the foreigner. "...Don't be rude to this guest in our lands."
Akito looked at the shop in front of him, at the multi-colored candles and grotesque masks larger than his body.
"Let's be his guests in return, to be diplomatic." He said, maybe only to himself.
“Follow me,” Kantan-Sensei purred, his voice a tempting whisper.
“...and I’ll show you a future you’ve only dreamed of.”

As the two weary travellers approached the building, the rest of the island seemed to fade away behind them. They were following behind Kantan as he kept describing where he acquired the various curios and accoutrements, every step brought them deeper into his world, until they reached the door to his shop. An opening with draped beads that clattered delightfully as the evening outside was left behind and the interior beckoned them with a candle-lit hall seemingly just for them.
"Come in, come in, come on in, my dear lords." Kantan prattled on as he all but led Akito by the hand.
The shadows cast by the candles seemed to move on their own, reaching for the hem of their robes as they walked past. Drums could be heard from the darkness, but no drummers could be seen.
"You seem lost, my lords, knowing what you want but now knowing where to find it" Kantan stated with eerie eye-contact as he slid into place around a table and started shuffling the wooden cards, making them dance in his spindly hands.
"You're far from home, young prince; not as far as myself but still in unfamiliar waters, and might I say that you're doing swimmingly!" His hands moved faster, as the wooden faces on the walls kept watch with their empty eye-sockets.
"Young master, this in not a proper..." tried Saburo.
"Let the entertainer speak, Saburo-san." interrupted Akito.
Kantan stacked the cards neatly and began flipping them over in front of his guests. "You're not only far from home, but far from the luck you so clearly deserve. A man lucky in love tends to be unlucky with money." He kept up his speed, speaking faster with every card.
"The Frog represents luck and coming home, and that's what I see in your future!" He dragged out the last word while he flipped cards for the older yojimbo.
"You, on the other hand, have never gotten what you deserved. You've been pushed around all your life by the rules you swore to uphold and the family who swore to protect you. What I see in your future is exactly what you deserve"
Saburo picked up his last dealt card and stared at the little wooden relief. His eyes lit up like a child being handed the biggest peach of the bunch.
"Shake my hand, my lords. It's not the local custom, but it's how the Unicorn seal their deals. Your word is good enough, but my friends on the other side need our palms to clasp in order to grant you what's been offered!"
These words should have sealed the fate of the gaijin doctor, but one should never underestimate the persuasive power of ambiance and naked, human, greed.
Instead, their actions sealed their own fates, as both Akito and Saburo reached out their hands and grabbed one hand each from Kantan and were more than happy to partake in this new custom of handshaking.
The mood in the little shop immediately changed, as though their clasped hands had snuffed all the candles with a wet fizz.
Candleflames came to life with a roar, each burning with a flame the color of their wax.
"The pact is sealed, friends! Are you ready for the next chapter of your life?! I swear that you'll get exactly...what you...deserve! Each word carried more meaning than the last, and Kantan was slowing down his speech even more as the rhythmic drums punctuated his words.
"My friends on the other side will make sure you're well...taken...care of!"
Someone, or something, grabbed the shoulders of Saburo and began peeling his clothes, and eventually skin, back as easily as one might turn the page of a pillow book.
Akito burst from his chair and reached for his wakisashi but quickly remembered it was handed to Kaido to be polished upon boarding the island.
He ran for the door, knocking over candles and statues as his yojimbo screamed in agony.
The screams where muffled by unseen hands over his face pushing him down into the pillow as Kantan's laugh drowned out both of the cranes.
Akito slipped, and could feel more hands around his ankles, pulling him towars the cackling madman.
"Are you ready, prince?!" Howled Kantan, and then Akito heard nothing at all.

When Akito awoke, his limbs felt more sore than the morning after his first visit to an Opium dealer in the harbor of Kyuden Doji. Through interlocking bars, he could see the slumped-over body of his former yojimbo. He was trapped in some sort of cage, but alive, which was more than could be said of Saburo.
My only option is to stay alive and stay quiet.
His body was covered in some foul slime, and his hands and head felt bigger than his chest. He slumped against his prison bars, and wondered how it was possible to have a view of the room when no jail cell had been here before.
Kantan bent over, picking up the mangled form of Saburo and speaking foreign words into his ear, an act so intimate it made Akito cringe and his stomach churn.
The foreign doctor then brought out a small amulet, the shrunken skull of some previous client perhaps, and poured blood over the Daidoji, it covered him like a cleansing waterfall, as though the little container held a tub full of blood in it.
Akito remained silent and covered his mouth with slimy hands, as Saburo's body twitched and...gasped...
When the blood had poured over him, the middle-aged man was no longer so. Instead, he looked the spitting image of one Doji Akito, wearing his likeness like a costume.
With a gleeful yell, Saburo (now in the guise of Akito) thrashed around the room, trying to get used to his new body. He approached Akito's prison and seemed to grow larger as he did, impossibly large.
Saburo reached down and picked up Akito with one hand.
I've become small, I fit in his hand!
"Such a tiny man, my dear lord." Saburo spat the words mockingly at Akito in his own voice.
"I could kill you with one hand now, although I always could, if not for the consequences. But I don't need to worry about consequences now that I'm a prince, do I?" He mused to himself as he started to squeeze the life out of Akito.
"Remember, my dumb friend, that you still need the frog. His blood is the only thing keeping your form stable while my friends on the other side stitch it into your soul." said Kantan, slightly panicing over how tightly Saburo squeezed the creature in his soft hands.
The frog? I'm the frog?!
Saburo turned to face the sorceror, and as he did, his slick hands squeezed the slippery frog a bit too tightly, and Akito flew across the room and hit the wooden wall with a loud plop.
"You fool, get him!" Shouted Kantan as he deftly slapped Saburo up the side of the head.
A mad dash followed, where Kantan's too-old body, and Saburo's too-new body scrambled to catch the slippery creature.
With his last strength and last bit of luck, Akito managed to slip under their legs, hopping and sliding through the cluttered, dark shop until he hit the beads in the opening.
His luck ran out as he did, though, and Akito got tandled in the beaded ropes seperating Kantan's shop from the Teardrop Island allyways.
Kantan reached out and pulled the curtain back, slinging Akito back into the room, towards Saburo's waiting hands.
He flew fast, span in circles, and after split second flew right past Saburo's hand, and out the window.

"NOOO!" screamed Kantan and Saburo in unison as Akito landed in the alleyway outside and began hopping westward without a plan, anything to get away from the drums and candles.
He could hear the two men chasing him down the alley, and eventually had nowhere to go but up, so he started climbing up the wooden structure he found himself perched against.
"My cane, get my cane! I can put a curse on him to slow him down!" Kantan yelled his order to Saburo, who once again found himself meekly following orders under threat of punishments he felt powerless against.
Their squabbles faded away as Akito climbed higher and higher, until he could see over the rooftops and out over The River of Gold.
The Crane prince took a moment to catch his breath and let the facts of his fate crash over him like a cavalry charge into a peasant troop.
I'm a frog. Saburo betrayed me. Saburo has my face. I'm being hunted by a foreign Maho-Tsukai. I'm alone in The City of Lies. And I'm a frog.
As he sat, very much not like a frog, he was noticed by a woman on the balcony he had invaded.
He could feel her eyes on him, staring in disbelief as he slowly turned his wide head towards her.
"Good evening, the lady of the house I presume?" he greeted her, half by instinct, half because he didn't know what else to do.
The woman could not understand him, of course. Frogs cannot speak to humans, not even ones raised in the esteemed halls of the Crane.
She brushed a golden lock out of her face, as if seeing it more clearly would bring more sense to what she was seeing. Her sky-blue eyes blinked, then blinked again.
"Are you...really a frog?" Magda asked, with a heavy accent which she usually covered up. It felt like a stupid question as it left her mouth.
Akito thought to answer, but instead just shook his head. It being so big, it almost knocked him off the balcony.
Magda put her hands out, and gracefully offered to carry him.
"I've wanted to leave this island for so long" she said, quietly. "I was a princess in my home country, you know? A princess raised on stories of warriors and wizards and princes."
Akito felt lucky again, being kissed by a princess is surely how a curse such as this is broken.
Gently, she lifted the frog prince towards her lips, and then hesitated.
Go on, princess!
She leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on the top of the lucky creature.
Sparks, pulsing energy! Drums!
YES! It's working!
Something was working, something magical.
When the sparks cleared, Akito stood face-to-face with Magda.
Unfortunately, the face he stood level-headed with was wide and green and slimy, much like his own.
After several seconds and more than a dozen big-eyed blinks between them, Magda struck Akito over the head.
Then again.
Then three more times.
"You've hexed me, you stupid frog! I curse you, tell me your name so that I may curse you properly!" She threatened between slippery slaps.
"Get your hands off of me, you gaijin! You're slapping one of the crown princes of the Crane!"
"I don't care who you..." Magda stopped herself "...wait...Can we..."
"...Understand each other?" they slowly realized in unison. Frogs can talk to frogs.
Before they could celebrate their newly realized communication or continue slapping each other, they were interupted by a commotion from downstairs.
"I've decided to have another look at The House of Foreign Stories, and I'd like to speak to the proprietor right away." came the voice of Doji Akito from downstairs, out of the mouth of Daidoji Saburo.
Saburo and Kantan were led up the stairs, towards the balcony where they had lost sight of the frog Akito.
"Isn't that...you?" Magda asked, while looking back and forth between the frog and the sliding door.
"No time to explain, we need to get away from those men!" Akito looked down, searching for a safe way to descend.
As Kantan and Saburo opened the door to the third floor pillow-room, the sudden draft pushed the frogs out the window, tumbling into the night. The evening winds above the rooftops suddenly increased in strength and, by some unseen force, blew the frogs out into the lantern-lit night, out over the river, and into the deep, dark, cold, water.

Two frogs lying side-by-side on the shore, panting. How long had it been?
It could have taken moments, struggling against the fathom-high waves and icy waters, but Akito could be convinced it took all night to make it to shore. He could be convinced of a lot of things right now, feeling like he might pass away any breath.
Magda didn't seem as out of breath, it seemed that your physique as a human affected your froggy form.
Does that mean I'm the handsomest frog?
Akito weakly pondered this premise; Magda had resumed her slapping of him, although now with much less fervor.
After her arms (front legs?) got tired, she hopped away, towards the city lights.
Akito got up.
"Don't follow me, you cursed fool!"
Akito laid back down.
After a few more breaths, he hopped after her, as the sun was rising over the City of Lies.
"Are you really Doji Akito?" Magda politely asked him, as if all previous words and slaps were forgotten.
"Yes, I would not lie to you." Akito replied, letting her indiscretions be water below the bridge.
"If you were some cursed Yokai bent on cursing me you would." She added, without taking her eyes off of the city gates.
"A fair assessment, Magda. Now, back to our problem at hand: we need to break this curse. Are you really a princess?" He tactfully returned her previous question.
She laughed, a gentle laugh filled with nostalgia more than mirth. "I am, actually. Well, if my father is considered a king in the eyes of the gods, but I'd bet he still is. When I left my home country years ago, I had to travel for weeks until I left my father's lands. I met some unicorn Samurai in The Burning Sands and ended up here, a vassal of Shinjo Sanefusa."
"I'm assuming you know more about curses than myself. You're also a local to this city, if not to this country. When the curse spread to you, I have to admit I felt despair."
"I'm confined to Teardrop Island, unless my patron gives me papers to visit other quarters. I've visited The Leatherworker's Quarter and The Temple Quarter, and I think both of those might help us."
Akito Frowned, or as much as a frog could frown. "Let's start with the Temple Quarter, the eta are not safe for a frog or a noble, or a noble frog."
"You just look like a frog to them, my lord."
"I look like dinner to them, more likely."
The two frogs hopped under a fence, and entered the outskirts of the city, keeping their big eyes peeled for cats and birds of prey.
"We're in the Leatherworker's Quarter now, I recognize a sake-ya down that road." Informed Magda.
"I'd buy you a drink but..." started Akito. After waiting a beat, he followed it up with: "...but I'm afraid I don't know what kind you like."
Magda smiled. "There's a wine made from foreign berries I'm partial to, but you'd need the berries from the Unicorn, and then find someone able to brew it here. The process takes years, and importing the brew directly is forbidden."
Akito's eyes kinda glazed over when Magda went into logistics. "I'd love to share a bottle with you some day."
While slowly making their way across the quarter, nearly getting crushed by a cart dragged by a one-eyed woman, the sun made it's way towards the top of the sky. They had to stop, and sat next to each other on the shore contemplating what to eat. It had been a long time since either of them ate, but not long enough to start hunting for bugs. They managed to get into a rice storage, and Akito assured Magda the headman of the eta would be reimbursed.
While magda picked out rice fit enough for human consumtion, or rather frog consumtion, Akito weaved a little wreath for Magda to wear.
She scolded him, but ended up keeping the wreath.
They climbed up on the roof of the storehouse and fell asleep. Long after the sun had set, they had to move, because of a nosy cat who started climbing the structure.
None of them got much sleep, but were determined to reach the Temple Quarter in the morning.

After leaving the Leatherworker's Quarter behind them, the cursed couple took a break on The Bridge of the Dragon. In festival season, it was closed to the eta, but not to frogs.
To the south, they could look over to Teardrop Island, where Kantan and Saburo still were, or perhaps they had already took a ferry back to The Noble Quarter and started using Akito's guise for their own purposes.
To the north, they could see The Bridge of Drunken Lovers.
"Are we going to ask the gods for aid? I saw The Grand Temple of Daikoku while I was riding in; I regret not praying to Daikoku, instead I listened to that gaijin doctor." explained Akito.
"Kantan has been swinding smarter nobles than you for a long time, but either way this ends, this will be his last racket. Either we stop and kill him, or he succeeds and will never need such a lowly scheme again."
"And no, we won't be asking the fortunes, we're gonna see a Miko. If anyone is holy enough to break this curse, it's Priestess Meiyo."
"What if this priestess is busy, you will have us hop our way back to the eta village?" added a now despondant Akito.
"There's a man in this town that I knew before I left my home country. I recently found out he had followed me to Ryoko Owari Toshi." Magda spoke as one would about death.
"Is he a friend or a foe." asked Akito cautiously.
"I don't rightly know. But I know he has strange powers, and has overcome trials that would destroy most great warriors."
"We will not be putting our faith in another maho-tsukai, blood magic got us into this mess." Akito faced Magda sternly.
She shook her head. "He's no blood mage, and I believe he has a similar hatred for magic."
"What strange powers then?"
"We'll find out if we need to see him, hopefully we don't. I heard stories of him as a little girl, and he frightens me."
Akito didn't inquire further, and they hopped through the streets to the Temple Quarter. Among nobles and travellers, they were less scared of being trampled. A frog is a lucky sign, after all. Two frogs being seen together made most adults clasp their hands in prayer.
The Temple of Amaterasu in the Temple Quarter of Ryoko Owari Toshi was a magnificent building. Not for it's size, but for it's symmetry and cleanliness. The building was built around a central axis that resembled the firmaments, and the walls inside the main chamber told the story of Mother Sun and Father Moon, alternating between stark white and pitch black murals.
Magda and Akito sat themselves on a warm, round stone outside and watched as people walked by, waiting for the fabled priestess.
They saw Shosuro Aiko, the spiritual advisor of the governor; a dour woman whose gazed was fixed ahead, and didn't notice the frogs.
They saw her husband, Shosuro Denmaru, a Thunder Guard. Equally dour, but he still took some time to greet the frogs.
They saw Kitsuki Obo, a Dragon gold trader, who was visiting the temple with a foul-smelling kid from The Fisherman's Quarter; they both dissapeared into the temple as Obo taught the orphan about The Gods fall to Rokugan.
Finally, an old priest approached, which spent quite some time telling the two frogs about how unlucky he had been.
"I don't think your priestess is coming, Magda".
"This doesn't make any sense, where else could she be?!" Magda looked shaken, like her last good option for aid was melting in the summer sun.
"What do you know about Kantan, the sorcerer?"
"I didn't know he was a sorcerer, if that's what you're implying." Magda quietly murmured back.
"Be that as it may, we need every advantage we can get."
"I don't care about Kantan, Akito. I just want to end this hex before Kiku Matsuri begins. The House of Foreign Stories will capsize if I go missing for a week." Magda kept going, and tried to bite her nails.
"We're both in a hurry, my former bodyguard is walking around with my face doing Gods know what."
"You seem awfully calm about it, my young lord." Magda replied, exhausted by the heat and despair.
"I'm not, but it's my duty to carry us through this with grace and poise."
"Where was that poise a few days ago?"
"A sword is forged in fire, and cynicism is the first step towards grace. My father said that a lot, when I didn't want to study. The greatest strength we have as Cranes are grace and courtesy, and the enemies of grace and courtesy are fear and passion."
"Another saying of your father?" Asked Magda, who remembered many lessons from her own father, about how a princess who refuses to be ruled from above will be ruled from below.
"No, that one's mine. I am a poet, you know." He glanced towards her.
"I've heard, word of your arrival preceded you." She smiled.
"Let's go see your friend tomorrow."
They sat a bit closer on the warm rock as the sun went down.