Hinageshi

Hinageshi traced the forbidden symbols on the reed scroll, its edges damp from the temple’s perpetual mist. Below, the city sprawled out from the base of the great waterfall, a place of devout tradition and faith. The text in their hands called it all a lie. It spoke of the water not as a gift from a benevolent spirit, but as a cage for something ancient and hungry, the truth behind the grand fish statue in the plaza. For a moment, they considered letting the scroll slip from their grasp, to be torn apart by the churning currents. But others were waiting, travelers who had followed them here, trusting their lead. With a steadying breath, they rolled the scroll tight and secured it in their pack. The captain's hat felt heavier than it had that morning.