The man lay on the rubble, agony shooting through his body. His woeful state was interrupted by an almost floating sensation at the site of his wound. A glow of purple stood out from the corner of his eye. He lifted his head to look but was stopped.
“If you move the healing won’t be effective.” The voice was gentle but something about it was eerie. It had a chill to it, like she knew what she was doing, but lacking in confidence. She wore a lilac covered hood over her head, clipped together at the bottom by a golden clover pendant. Her face was hidden, but he could tell something was off about her. Despite her dressing like a healer, she didn’t have the presence of one, or any human for that matter.
There was a feeling you got when you felt like someone was looking at you, or when you felt a presence in the room. But she had none of that. If you weren’t looking at her, you wouldn’t be able to tell if she was there or not, she wasn’t detectable at all. A purple glow radiated from her hands, even though they were concealed by off white sleeves that hung off her shoulders by golden beads. The agony that had once been present was gone now, and in its place was a light feeling, almost drowsy.
The woman stood, her long navy hair falling to her elbows. And without a word, she walked away, leaving a confused man in her wake.
“It’s gone!” The man gasped. His wound was gone. It was likely a supernatural, he thought, but that didn’t explain her presence or why she concealed her face. It was almost like she wanted there to be no record of her.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. After all, he had no time to ponder such things; he had to assist with recovery efforts.
She appeared again several months later, after he had forgotten about her. This time however, she was in his home, observing an object his predecessor had given him. Sota didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was important. The woman had her hood down, revealing her face. Her skin was pale, and she looked like any normal person save for one feature, her eyes. She had no pupils or iris; her eyes were pure white. “I apologise for dropping in like this.” She looked up at him, brushing her fingertips across the object. “I do try to visit the clan heads every few years, but I’ve been quite busy as of late.”
“You are the one who healed me that day, aren’t you?” Sota questioned, walking further into his home. She was wearing the same thing she had worn the day he had first seen her, the same white tear away skirt with lace around the hems, the same lilac apron with golden beads and a clover charm dangling from it. “My apologies. My name is Lady Arya; I govern in the far shore. I thought I would come check on the realm breaker.” Sota recognised her name. He recalled his mother telling him stories at night of a goddess named Arya, but that was a fairytale, it was fictitious, right? Come to think of it, he had heard his predecessor mention her name once or twice. It had to be the same woman. If it wasn’t, how would she know about the object.
“What exactly is the realm breaker?” He asked. Arya looked somewhat surprised. The realm breaker had to remain on the mortal plane, so, Arya had to find someone to host it. The problem was, she’d need to find someone new every 70 or so years. That was when the Akata clan surfaced, and she realised that she could have the realm breaker passed down from successor to successor. When the first clan head passed on, the realm breaker was handed to the second. When Arya visited him, he knew who she was and the significance of the realm breaker, as did every successor down the line. So why didn’t he? She assumed his father had done the same his grandfather had, but it seemed not.
“The realm breaker can open the gates to a nearby realm for 30 seconds once every 500 years.” Arya explained as she sat down on one of the armchairs in his living room, smoothing out her skirt. It wasn’t anything bad that Sota didn’t know what the realm breaker was, it meant he didn’t know how to use it either. The realm breaker was a celestial object, created by Arya’s predecessor 20,000 years ago. It could blur the line between mortals and immortals and was invaluable.
That of course, meant that there would be people coming after it. The Shi clan, one enthusiastic clan, had been after the realm breaker for 120 years. Arya had ensured the realm breakers safety, but it wasn’t guaranteed to remain that way. They already knew of Arya’s existence, and had been trying to find her, thankfully to no avail.
“You haven’t found a successor yet, I presume.” Sota felt he could trust her. After all, she clearly wasn’t of this world. And if she wished for the end of the near shore, then why would she have healed him? “That’s correct.” He confirmed, taking a seat across from her. Arya’s face hardened. He should have chosen a successor by now; he had been the clan head for 40 years. Those before him had chosen within 10 years. “Might I suggest Kyoto high school? I am sure they would gladly allow you to teach there. I hear a few young exorcists attend.” The Akata clan was a clan of exorcists dedicated to exorcising supernatural's that threatened to bring about the collapse of the near shore.
The near shore was where the living dwelled, whereas the far shore belonged to the supernatural's and the dead. However, there are certain parts of the near shore that act as a passageway to the far shore. These are called boundaries, which are usually sealed, however the seal had weakened, allowing supernatural’s to enter the near shore.
Arya would have to keep an eye on who he associated with, as she had done the previous clan heads, but he would be exposed to hundreds of candidates, and the survival of the clan rested on this. She knew what would happen if the clan died out; the boundary seal would weaken even further than it already had, and supernatural activity would surge. Arya would have to stay in the near shore more than the cathedral.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the consequences of you not choosing a successor, so be hasty about it.” She stood from her seat, smoothing her skirt once more. “I’ll visit weekly until you find a successor, goodbye.” And with that, she disappeared in a glow of lilac. Arya didn’t like to pressure people, but the situation warranted it.
The cathedral was empty that day, nobody had been sent through the gates. Perhaps it was a good thing, it meant less grief on the near shore. She remembered the day she passed through those purple gates, greeted by all those church pews, and the man in the white robes. That was the day she regretted most. Over 10,000 years ago and she still thought about it every day.
“Nobody came through while you were gone.” He came by often, his dark hair and his red eyes a reminder of her mistakes. Ceris was a tall man, about 180cm. He had been like this longer than she had, about 15,000 years. The old man had granted him access to her realm a millennia ago, and since then he had been entering her cathedral to bother her. The only upside to him being there was that he could watch the gates while she was on the near shore. “Thank you.” Arya’s wings were back, those long white feathers she detested so. Ceris sat down on the front church pew, leaning back and crossing his arms. He was a lazy man, he rarely went down to the living world, he just loitered around Arya’s cathedral all day.
Ceris’s job was to watch over the humans Arya sent back to the mortal world. But they’d often return to the cathedral, and Arya would have to deny them the opportunity to return to life. After she had died, she was sent to Augustis’s realm, where he appointed her a goddess position, and her cathedral realm was created which eventually took over her predecessors when he went to rest. She was tasked with maintaining peace between the living and the dead on earth and dealt with celestial objects. Her job wasn’t particularly enjoyable for her, but it wasn’t like she could give it up. Yes, it took a lot of energy out of her, but if it meant that there wasn’t as much suffering on earth thanks to her efforts, she didn’t mind it.
“Don’t you have work to do?” She asked as she knelt by the alter, clasping her hands together as the tinted stained glass reflected a purple glow over the hall. Ceris groaned and ran a hand down his face. “It will pile up, and you just might have your title revoked.” She stood, her wings folding in on themselves as she sat down beside him. “Wouldn’t you enjoy that.” Ceris looked at her, poking at the feathers on her wings. “Please, I would only enjoy it if it were me.” Arya sighed, running a hand through her hair. Ceris rolled his eyes, he knew she’d rather be resting peacefully, but eternal afterlife isn’t such a bad thing at times. You never have to worry about getting a job, since you can only get fired from this one if you screw up bad; like destroying a celestial object bad. And there’s no medical concerns since you’re already dead.
Ceris didn’t know much about Arya, only that she died about 10,000 years ago and disliked her job, despite being a workaholic. She liked purple and disliked her wings, but that was about all of it. He wanted to know how she died, and he’d asked a couple times, but she’d just give him this glare. Since it was her realm and she had supreme authority over it, she could just deny him entry, but she didn’t. He figured it was because she got lonely. Sure, she had people coming through the gates, but it couldn’t be much fun being around a bunch of mopey dead people all day.
That was why he made it a point to visit her every day. He didn’t want her ending up like them. He detested them so; all they could do was beg to be revived, it was pathetic. Arya said that he shouldn’t feel that way about them, after all, they couldn’t do much else. Ceris didn’t understand her. He cared about her but had no clue why she spent so much time taking care of humans. “It’s because they’re idealists.” She had once told him. “They have a picture of what they want in their heads and throw all logic away to achieve it.” Well, that’s stupid, he thought. If you want something, there should be a plan to achieve it, you can’t just go through life hoping things will go your way. If that was true, they wouldn’t be where they were now.
“How’s the clan business going?” Ceris asked, as Arya swatted his hand away from her wing. “The 8th still doesn’t have a successor.”
“He should’ve chosen one years ago! You better light a fire under him.” Ceris scoffed, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why do you think I went down there? I had to check on the realm breaker as well.” The sound of the gate’s hinges swinging open caught her attention, and she stood up. “Go catch up on your work, you’ll have more to do soon.”
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