The sliver of light pierced the early morning, filtering colours amidst the shadows of the land that lay open before him. The frigid breeze, tinged with the sweet smell of moonflowers, played around the hem of the worn, brown robe that Migoya had worn during the night, a night spend planting seedlings, moving plants, and trimming back the overgrown garden.
There was something nurturing about the simple action of gardening, almost like a return to the warm embrace of the earth. Plants also epitomized the feeling of hope, where one waited in anticipation for the hopeful and eventual bloom. Hope was in short supply, but here, hopefully, some could be cultivated towards a brighter future.
The cold, metallic feel of the head of the rake was keenly felt against Migoya’s pallid face as he leant on the object, his crimson gaze looking over the impressive view. Almost amidst the clouds themselves this locale would, should, be perfect for his clans needs. Well, once it was spruced up a bit.
Below lay a great green forest, reminding him of his homeland - where he could not return. This sea of green surrounded another large mountain, a sister to the one that he currently resided on. He had passed through a small town some half-kilometer down a narrow, winding road, the locals viewing him with distrust as they made their way towards the local gem mine. The locals of Suta did not know him, and in such a small town someone like Migoya stood out despite his attempt at blending in. They would soon get to know him however, and hopefully the rest of his clan, but first the Myakashi needed to establish themselves.
Why the hells did you pick such an awful place Migo-kun. I mean… the views good, but the buildings are more holey than holy and the spirits here… well, they aren't too happy. Mikki intoned, walking up to stand next to Migoya and sharing the same view.
“Perhaps we can help them find their rest. In the meantime, they will keep away unwanted visitors.”
Indeed, Migoya had located this ‘cursed monastery’ specifically because the locals feared it so. The Shrine had come here several years ago and finding the monks there worshiping other ‘Gods’ than what they prescribed, and had systematically wiped them out. Upon finding the place Migoya had noticed the bones of the restless, and heard their screams in the night. His first action was to collect these remains and place them in one of the few ossuaries that had not been completely destroyed, and cover it with flowers collected from around the area. He was no priest, far from it, but at least he could show those before him a measure of respect.
Well… its a fixer-upper thats for sure. You got ripped off.
Migoya chuckled. The amount of yen, and a promise to the Shrine to help them when summoned, had been steep indeed, but something drew him to this place. Yes, there was much work to do, and it would certainly not be comfortable for a time, but perhaps this desolate monastery on the side of a mountain could become a home.
Supplies were needed, and although capable of such feats, Migoya was reluctant to use his ninjutsu to speed up the building process. It seemed… wrong. As if the land here itself wanted there to be toil and suffering in order to reap its benefits. The land here was indeed cursed.
“Perhaps Mikki. In any event there are benefits too.”
Indeed there was. Apart from the narrow and winding trail one needed to brave to get here, there were a series of caverns and old mine shafts both behind and beneath the monastery that could easily be adapted and sculpted for other purposes. Water was easily accessible through a mountain stream that flowed through the main open area of the monastery, resting in a large well cut deeply into the stoney ground. The majority of the buildings too were cut into the side of the mountain, adding a level of camouflage to the casual observer. Even the main shrine itself, damaged as it was, and standing out in front of the mountain, blended into its surroundings.
There was the issue of food of course, the previous monks garden having overgrown and spoiled years previously. Migoya was a master at botany, but his speciality was in medicinal herbs rather than food crops so he knew that he would need to speak to one of the villagers to get an idea of the crops that could grow up here. Of course he didn’t need to eat, nor did Mikki, so they had a measure of time before his brothers and the rest of the clan arrived. He also needed to fix some of the buildings so they were more habitable.
To be quite honest, the thought of building something excited Migoya more than anything. It was somewhat liberating to create, without restrictions, even if it was his own little piece of a country run by religious fanatics, well - that’s what they wanted people to think they were. In any event, those were toes that the Myakashi would most certainly not stand on.
Leaning against the rake a sad smile formed on Migoya’s pale face, his eyes beginning to wince at the brightness of the dawn before him.
“We’d better get back to work - there is so much to do. I can hear Hisao complaining about the dampness of the place, and Doku will want to know if the noodles are any good. Yong needs rest - well the young one does. And other Yong…”
The smile grew bigger.
Home.