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In Tribute (12) : In the days leading up to the Star Festival, small stone shrines began to appear randomly throughout Destiny City–on rooftops, in alleyways, hidden down long forest paths. They’re small, altar-like platforms with a little bowl in the center and a single glowing stone inside. There’s something peaceful, refreshing, about the shrine, even if no one seems to know who is setting them. However, if the stone is removed, the glow vanishes–along with your sense of peace. This was not your offering to take. Immediately, you feel something breathing on the back of your neck but there’s nothing to be seen. Returning the stone returns the area to an uneasy stillness, but if you attempt to leave without returning the stone, a mounting pressure and anxiety will grow within you. You never make it far from the shrine before some unseen force overtakes you. It feels like a great force collides into your back, and unconsciousness is quick to follow. When you awaken, the shrine is gone. All that remains is pain and fear. If you are tempted to leave an offering of your own, however small, you will find yourself feeling as though you have received the protection of something greater than you can understand. This strange blanket of security will last for the remainder of the day. A shrine never stays in the same place for long but no one ever sees who is setting them up or taking them down.
Yasmeen yawned as she climbed the stairs to her room. She and her mother had gone to enjoy the festival that evening, and now it was pretty late. Time for bed. Her mother would likely be along later to tuck her in and read to her. It wasn't strictly necessary, but they both enjoyed the bedtime ritual, as it was a chance to bond over a story together. Presently, they were working through Ella Enchanted, and she was enjoying it a lot more than the movie. Twin Princesses of Bamarre was next on her list.
Smiling, she entered her room, flipping on the light. And the bulb shorted out almost immediately. Crud. Bedtime would be delayed until she could find her mother to let her know she'd need a fresh lightbu--
It took a moment for Yasmeen to realize her room wasn't fully dark. She blinked in surprise, and realized, after a moment, that, on her windowsill, which she had forgotten to close, a small light still glowed softly. Setting down her bag quietly on the rug under her dresser, she padded across the floor to find out what was shining there. Was it a firefly? It was the season for fireflies--
It wasn't a firefly, either.
A small assortment of piled stones sat there, almost like a shrine of pebbles worn smooth by a mysterious stream over the span of ages, settled atop a little stone platform. At the base of the pile, but on top of the platform, rested a small bowl, containing only a glowing stone. It was the glowing stone that provided the sole source of light in her room, aside from the moon and the stars outside. Wonderingly, Yasmeen sat at her desk, which was just below the window, and gazed at the strange and peaceful sight.
She hadn't assembled it. It wasn't something her mother or brother would do. So where had it come from? And what was it doing here?
It was an altar, wasn't it? It looked like an altar that she would see at a shrine or a mosque or a church. Was it waiting for an offering? What kind of offering did it want in exchange for the little bit of light and peace it offered? Yasmeen didn't really have anything she could think of--
Wait. She did. Have something, that is. Getting up, she hurried to her bag, and dug out a small bag of Japanese rock candy. Konpeito, the booth had proclaimed them to be. Star candy. Like tiny pieces of rock candy that looked like tiny stars, or the Pokemon Minior. Popping the bag open, Yasmeen counted out eight pieces of konpeito, one for each year of her life, and neatly arranged them around the glowing stone, like the petals of a lotus around its center. The light from the stone, passing through the pink konpeito, took on a mixed pink-and-gold coloration, and a powerful sense of safety, almost cosmic in scope settled around her shoulders.
At that moment, her mother knocked on the door. "Yasmeen, are you ready for bed?"
Yasmeen turned around, startled from her contemplation of the little shrine. "Ummm, no, not yet, Mom, I still need to get ready for bed. Oh! And the lightbulb died, can you get me a new one?"
Her mom nodded. "Sure, just get ready for bed while I go get--oh! Where did that shrine come from?" she asked, noticing the mysterious little shrine.
"I don't know," Yasmeen admitted, hurriedly getting changed for bed.
Her mother paused thoughtfully, and then flipped the switch. "I think we can delay replacing the lightbulb tonight if you don't mind me just telling you old stories tonight by the light of that little shrine. Just don't forget to brush your teeth!"
Yasmeen nodded, and dashed to the bathroom. When she came back, her mother helped her hang the pink star charm she'd gotten from one of the vendors above the shrine, causing the reflected light from the stone to dance around in rosy hues as a soft night breeze pushed the glass charm around.
The stories that night were peaceful and thoughtful ones, and Yasmeen slept more soundly than she had in a long time. When she woke the next morning, the shrine was gone, with its offering and the sense of security it had given in exchange for the konpeito.
Yasmeen smiled. Hopefully, the shrine would find more offerings before the end of this year's Star Fest.
