Sawara knelt on the soft forest floor. Gold leaves cracked under his knees.
His eyes were closed, the Firmament bright beneath the closed lids. He could sense the world. The peaceful life around him - the pommer trees and their buttress-like roots, the branchrabbits scurrying amongst the branches. Farther away, he could sense the roots of the trees pulsing within the Firmament, the soil surrounding them, chthonic things tunnelling in the earth below. Bedrock.
Beneath the bedrock he could see veins within the Firmament shining brightly, differently from the surrounding mass. Tin, perhaps, he thought absently.
But he was not looking for tin. He was looking above, to the skies and the Otherworld beyond.
Sawara opened his eyes. They were white, pupils and irises obscured beneath a cloudy veil. He was breathing steadily, deeply, the breaths far apart.
He was cross-legged, his hands resting palms upwards, thumb and little-fingers touching.
He breathed again, inhaling musky myrrh incense. He allowed it to fill his lungs, kept his breath, then exhaled again.
He felt the sacred forest grow dim as Otherworld came into view. It was a ghostly realm, as though clouds were made somehow corporeal. Nothing felt solid, yet everything was real. Far more real than the coarseness of the material realm.
With one last breath he was home.
Before him stood a great pagoda, its white walls and tiered eaves breaking the vast open plains that surrounded him.
He walked to it, his feet treading on air.
Stairs formed in the Otherworld, leading towards the pagoda. Standing at the apex were three ghostly figures - two women and a man, clothed the fine robes of royalty. White eyes stared at the Shaper, but otherwise they made no sign of acknowledgement.
Sawara went up the stairs and stopped 3-paces from the spirits. He bowed silently, holding it for a long moment, and lifted his head.
"I am come seeking guidance," he said, his voice airy, the words drifting lazily from his mouth.
The spirits regarded him.
"Am a yamabushi, a counter of spirits. My brethern and I sense a growing distemper in the world. I am come seeking your guidance.
Two of the spirits took a step back, turned and dissipated into their surroundings. The remaining spirit spoke, its mouth unmoving, its words appearing directly in the thoughts of the shaper.
Come, we have much to speak of.
the Kingdom of Nakhé
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Originally Posted by Llannagh
looking forward to reaching the #50 mark... and eventually #100 
