For Want of Tea
Unmei's eyes burn with Light as she watches her life flash before her. Not the sudden stream of key memories that comes before death, but a clear vision of the threads of fate that encompass her existence coming undone.
It was far crueler than Mung's blessing.
All she had done and all that she would — reduced to nothing. She reaches out to mend what she can and pays for it as the seering Light intensifies. Her soul weeps as, for the second time in her lengthy life, she is rendered blind.
Not for the shards of divinity that are ripped away.
Not for all the millennia of careful planning made useless.
No, she weeps for her precious children. Had they, too, been punished for her impertinence towards the whims of the gods? Had the tapestries she wove for them been unmade? With her sight stolen, she could no longer see them. The only comfort to be taken was that this was not The End.
The feeling of damp tatami greets Unmei as her essence focuses and her vision returns. Stained walls coated in layers of dust from years of neglect surround her. Even in its decrepit state, she could not forget this place: it was her home.
A small shrine that sat on a lake, hidden amidst the mountains. In her proper world, the time at which she was known as 「Chomeina Unmei no Ori-te to Densetsu no Ban'nin」had long passed. Still, it was not uncommon for those who had heard whispers of a seer in the mountains to journey here and offer gifts in exchange for guidance. Making the long trek was enough to earn her favor, but she did enjoy the little treasures her visitors offered.
The Demon's lips curl into a frown before softening into a small 'o' just as quickly. Her steps softly tap against the floor with a squish as she makes her way to the door. Sliding the torn door aside reveals a small package, the once white cloth now brown from accumulated muck. She discards it without hesitation to verify what lay inside for herself.
As layers of cloth are unwrapped, the sheen of the lacquer box beneath is revealed. Flecks of gold create intricate flower patterns against the inky black lacquer. After taking a moment to trace her fingers across the designs, Unmei removes the lid and sighs sweetly as an herbal, grassy aroma fills her lungs. The tea leaves weren't anything special, but both they and their container were perhaps the most precious gifts she ever received.
Memories flood her mind. Memories of a skilled artist with an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Of days spent teaching calloused hands how to brew tea just the way she liked it. Of solemn farewells and a promise to only return once blood had been shed. Ushio was his name, and he was one of the most charming young men she had the pleasure of teaching. With her instruction, he became a great swordsman whose bloodstained hands could still make beautiful lacquerware.
But in a world where no one could accept his gift?
Tears stain Unmei's blindfold and stream down her cheeks as she covers the box again.
"It is a cruel fate you've dealt me. Ah, but perhaps I should view this as a new opportunity?"
Yes, she could feel it. Her fate was not the only one to be tied up in this game. There were many lost children in need of words of comfort and a bosom to cry into. In time, she would see to them all, but first, she would say goodbye to all her 'Ushios'. Even if for just a brief moment, she desired to mourn all that had not been.
Still, as dejected as she felt, the seer was eager to find a new hand to brew her tea.