IC Date: 06/18/2025
The whispers of light and life at the Tower’s shrine had plucked gently but incessantly at Rowan’s mind since her return to Earth two weeks earlier, trailing its soft glow through her dreams and across her waking thoughts. No part of her could properly articulate the strange relief she felt at its awakening or the sensation of her starseed stilling within her, soothed at last by the reforging of this long lost bond. Any understanding she might pursue of the significance of these shrines slipped her mind’s hold whenever it seemed she might grasp it. Of course, it was only the foolishly impatient part of her that sought to push her way past this barrier. Without exception these memories only broke the surface on Tempesti itself, but while she remained earthbound it was impossible to restrain the impulse to try, no matter how futile it might be. Or how futile it was to continue pressing the home button in the hopes that the universe might be in the mood to do her a favor. But now, finally, she could make her way back. Not to the Tower’s sanctuary, at least not yet, but to a smaller shrine near her house. Calling the house hers was oddly natural, though she couldn’t say for certain when that began. With its cracked walls, its half-gone windows, its crumbling roof, she could hardly claim that it was the most comfortable or elegant place she’d ever seen. But still. It felt like hers, so it was only natural that the little shrine that stood less than a mile away would be of interest to her. Even with her near blindness on this matter, the early growth of the windflowers, the arrival of the teruda had to be a signal…something. Whether it was the crystals, the altar, or some combination of factors she didn’t know to consider, the shrines seemed to have a hold on (or at least an appeal to) the life on Tempesti.
Eyes fixed upward on a slightly larger than average bump in the white stucco ceiling of her living room ceiling, she exhaled softly. Her memory of the shrines carried an amorphous fear, not of the blood she had to spill in the Crypt but of the taint she carried. Or rather, the taint someone told her she carried in someone else’s distant past. A rot that would contaminate the shrines themselves were she to so much as lay a hand on a shrine for anything but the Rite of Purgation. A shade of something just shy of disdain crossed her thoughts. The fact that any previous incarnation allowed herself to believe that based solely on the words of her jailers simmered angrily within her. Were it any other person, a friend, a stranger, she would allow them far more grace. Remind them that they were likely young and scared when someone first told them centuries worth of horror stories. As hard as she tried to extend herself the same kindness, she found that it was still very much a work in progress.
Cleaning the shrine on her last visit had been an impulsive decision, and one that resulted in wasting what was left of the water she had brought with her. Today’s trip, or the trip that began today, she would not allow herself to be so unprepared. Her rucksack was more than a little bit overstuffed, but the enhanced strength should offset the worst of that. Ideally, at least. Cleaning supplies, food, extra water, plus her notebooks and cameras bulged from within. The effort to get it all in there hadn’t been pretty, but it worked and she couldn’t ask for much more under the circumstances.
“Tempesti power, make-up!”
The feathers, always so many feathers. There are always more feathers. Honestly Rowan thought it would be perfectly possible to get across the concept of harpies without so many feathers but it seemed the galaxy disagreed and so she stood, befeathered in her small living room. A few quick motions secured her action camera across her chest. It had proven itself a useful addition to her documentation, particularly in areas she hadn’t yet had time to stop and photograph individually.
With greater ease than her small form would suggest, the senshi slung the rucksack onto her back and grasped the bicycle that had served her so well in her earlier excursions into the city. Once, she had found the prospect of teleportation more than a little bit daunting. While she hadn’t entirely dismissed the possibility that something was disintegrating and reintegrating her upon disappearance and arrival, the process hadn’t left her any worse for wear and as such she decided it was easier to just go with it.
In the Name of the Moon!
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