Another Legend (Higeki)
|Another Legend (Higeki)|
|Date of Cutscene:||27 May 2015|
|Location:||Azuma, base of Suzaku|
|Synopsis:||The lonely shrine maiden of the Korimara Forest Shrine seeks revenge against demons who attacked her family years ago. She finds that revenge in the ruins of the abandoned shrine.|
|Cast of Characters:||797|
Heat. Roaring flames. Screaming.
Frantic movement through the blazing heart of the fire, breaking through a smoldering ricepaper door and into the cool night air.
The silhouette of a crow demon rising over a slumped figure in front of the shrine. A presence. Turning, a second creature much closer, snatching her up by the arm. Hauling her up to peer into her face, eye to eye.
With a start, Saeko snaps her eyes open. She remains there, staring at the ceiling of the small house behind the Korimara Forest Shrine which she calls home. Once her breathing has steadied, the girl sits up, resting a hand alongside her face. That dream again. How many years has it been?
"This is the price for disrespecting the Tengu..." she murmurs, repeating those words that were spoken to her on that fateful night. Letting out a slow breath, she pushes herself from the futon.
Hours later, with the sun riding high in the sky, Saeko ventures into the forest at the foot of Suzaku. A weekly pilgrimage that brings her to the charred grounds of the family shrine, built in a location that certain youkai decided offended them. It is here, surrounded by the blackened ruin of her old home, that she murmurs a prayer to the gods.
Forgiveness? No. You seek Justice.
The voice snaps her back to her senses and the woman turns in place, eyes scanning the burned out wreckage, "Who's there?"
The gods have answered your prayer.
Her wandering eyes find something glimmering in the rubble. Approaching cautiously, she uses her foot to nudge aside a charred beam. Beneath, she finds a weapon in a gilded scabbard, black and gold. Gingerly, the shrine maiden reaches down to collect it, lifting the weapon to eye level.
Slowly, she pulls on the hilt, drawing the blade a few inches from its scabbard, marveling at the glassy black surface that emerges.
Your prayers for Revenge.