The first rays of sunlight gently brushed over the village of Edo, turning the wooden rooftops into pools of liquid gold and casting long, soft shadows across the narrow alleys.

  The wind carried the scent of freshly steamed rice and sweet incense through the air.

  Between the houses, the leaves rustled, whispering their ancient songs, weaving a quiet symphony to accompany the village's slow awakening.

  Edo was small—but alive.

  A green oasis at the foot of a forested hill, embraced by wide fields and silent paths.

  Here lived farmers, craftsmen, and merchants—people who secured their survival with rough hands and open hearts.

  Yet above all hung the silent protection of the gods.

  And she was their voice—their bond to the heavens:

  Miko Akizuki.

  Barefoot, Miko stepped out of her room and breathed in the cool morning air.

  A peaceful aroma of tea and rice drifted from the small kitchen, where Aiko—her older sister—was already bustling about.

  "Miko, eat something before you head to the shrine!" Aiko called out without looking up, stirring steaming rice with a large spoon.

  Miko smiled softly, a gesture full of warmth—and stubbornness.

  "I can’t. The shrine waits."

  Aiko sighed theatrically, waving the spoon like a weapon.

  "One of these days, you’re going to pass out in the middle of a prayer, little sister!"

  But Miko was already slipping out the door, her quiet determination clinging to her like a second skin.

  The path led her through the awakening village.

  Merchants spread out colorful cloths covered in fresh fish, crisp vegetables, and intricate fabrics.

  Farmers marched toward the fields with baskets so heavy their shoulders groaned.

  Children darted between the stalls, laughing and chasing each other like swallows on a summer field.

  But for Miko, it was all just a whisper at the edge of her senses.

  Her gaze rested solely on the shrine, its red torii blazing atop the hill in the morning sun—

  a promise, a passage between humans and gods.

  The shrine stood quiet, embraced by nature.

  Miko stepped inside, kneeling before the wooden altar.

  Her movements were calm, almost reverent.

  Cleansing. She swept the paved path, removing leaves and dust from the sacred grounds.

  Her hands glided reverently over the beams of the torii, polishing the wood until it shone once more.

  Offerings. Fresh bowls of white rice and clear water were carefully placed.

  Prayers. Miko folded her hands, closed her eyes.

  "May the gods watch over us.

  May their blessings flow like light across Edo."

  The wind played with the hanging scrolls, making them whisper softly, as if the gods themselves were listening.

  A moment of light and silence.

  A bridge between worlds.

  No sooner had she finished her daily rituals when the first villagers appeared.

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  "Miko-sama! I need a blessing for my harvest!" called an old farmer, his skin weathered from years under the sun.

  "And one for my journey!" added a young merchant, bowing deeply.

  Miko smiled and beckoned them closer.

  With calm, precise movements, she pulled out strips of paper, painting powerful blessing symbols onto them and handing them to the petitioners.

  Her voice—quiet but firm—wove prayers into the air, as if sending them directly to the gods’ ears.

  She sprinkled the old farmer gently with purified water, letting a final blessing touch his brow.

  The young merchant accepted his talisman with reverence.

  "You have a good heart, Miko-sama. Surely the gods love you."

  Miko smiled humbly.

  "I only serve them."

  A Family in a Changing World When Miko returned home in the early afternoon, Aiko was already lounging on the veranda, sipping tea and lazily swinging her legs.

  "Spent the whole morning up there again?" she teased, grinning into her teacup.

  Miko sank down beside her, leaning against one of the wooden pillars.

  "The gods need tending. Otherwise, they might forget us."

  Aiko raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  "If you ask me, gods have an excellent memory."

  Miko sighed, half annoyed, half amused.

  "Aiko..."

  But her sister simply waved her off with a laugh and handed her a steaming bowl of tea.

  "You’re way too serious for your age."

  Miko accepted the tea gratefully.

  And though she said nothing, she knew:

  Aiko believed in the gods—in her own quiet way.

  At that moment, their father, Himoto Akizuki, stepped onto the porch.

  His gait was heavy, his shoulders burdened by invisible weights.

  "Father, how was your meeting with the Daimyō’s envoy?" Miko asked cautiously.

  Himoto sighed, removing his hat and sitting down beside them.

  "There are rumors. Unrest in the north. But for now... it’s not our problem."

  He ran a tired hand through his beard.

  "As long as we pay our dues and keep Edo peaceful, no one will bother us."

  Aiko sipped her tea, her gaze dry and wry.

  "Until someone decides otherwise."

  Himoto met her gaze with a serious look but said nothing.

  Miko felt the unease under his words—

  like a low rumble beneath the earth, not yet a quake, but growing.

  Chapter End – The Fragile Peace of Edo The shrine.

  The village.

  Her family.

  Everything seemed harmonious.

  Untouched.

  But deep within, Miko sensed it:

  The world was shifting.

  The wind carried whispers from afar—

  rumors lurking at the edge of hearing, like shadows beyond sight.

  And though she did not yet know it—

  soon, her life would change forever.

  End of Chapter 15