This isn't Fabled Folktales

First Mission Arc:

Second Mission of Arc:

Third Missiom of Arc:

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Lightning, a brewing storm, the language of both darkness and light. Within the darkness veil of the night, lightning performs as the cackling intensity that crawls down from the skies, followed by the booming emotions of the thunder that shatters reality with its voice.

Some may cower at the sounds of thunderstorms, but Powder was the opposite. She couldn't help but find a form of tranquility in the presence of the intense chaos created by the storms amongst the Island. She spent many nights listening to the pitter patter of the heavy rain as it fell against the top of the hut's roof. Even sometimes, she'd find herself by the seashore, watching as the waves raged with the storm. Witnessing as the crystal blue water would suddenly transform into a dark torrent of rage.

That must be one of the reasons why she felt more drawn to Inazuma, the panther who’s paws once rained down the raw intensity of its power amongst the Island.

Her brother, on the other hand, had always liked Mizunosei for the Spirit's gentleness. It was funny how their favorite Spirit as children didn't match the element they had more potential with.

---

Once more Powder found her hand clasping gently around the totem that hung from around her neck. It was a gift from her brother, who used to wear it everywhere he went. It was a carving that he made for her, and for some reason he waited much later before giving it to her. The carving itself was to represent Inazuma, the wood was finely cut into the shape of a panther and had a smooth polish. The totem was a priceless treasure that Powder could never lose.

As Powder clasped onto the totem, her striking eyes would gaze at the shrine before her. Despite the absence of the Spirits, islanders and others still loved and respected the Divines and would visit the shrines to pay tribute. Most of those who visit, had the courtesy to look out for the well-being and conditions of those shrines.

“Aizen~” Powder would turn her eyes towards the man that accompanied her still, before handing him one of the cloths that she had brought with them. “Have you ever heard about the Spirits.”

Aizen's eyes widened as the first crack of lightning split the sky, illuminating the sky in a blinding flash of light. The brewing storm unleashed its fury, casting shadows that danced in the darkness. Watching Powder clasp onto her totem, made him instinctually toy with his hair accessory that hangs from his ear. He never fails to remind anyone asking that it still is a hair jewel despite its whereabouts, It is for heritage purposes after all.

The booming voice of thunder reverberated through the night, shaking the very ground beneath them. While some may have recoiled at the raw power of the storm, Powder seemed to find solace in its intensity. Aizen watched her with a sense of confusion. Aizen can feel the carved word 侘び寂び (“Wabi-Sabi”) on his fingertips. The reminder that not everything is perfect, and should be appreciated.

Rain itself is appreciated by him, but those who admire it are unaware of its effects, He would be too if he wasn’t accompanied by a raven. The same raven that gave Aizen his jewel, is the same one he watched fail to fly due to the rain. His confusion for Powder’s interest in the rain turned to admiration, realizing without rain he wouldn’t have a feather friend during the roughest times of his life. He’s sure Powder has a story of her own where rain brings memories.

A quick both of lightning and the sound of thunder snaps him out of his thoughts. Powder’s question follows after the thunder echoes through the night. “Very little” he responds. “Why do you ask?”

Another strike of lighting cackled, the light of its chaotic energy glinting off of the ornament that adnored his ear.

After Powder handed Aizen the cloth, she would make her way to the shrine that stood before them. Marbled statues of the panther stood at the door, a representation of the Spirit Inazuma.

She ducked beneath the awning, leaving her shoes and damp shawl on the outer deck before entering the sacred building. The trees that surrounded the shrine helped prevent most of the rain from getting to them, and seemed to protect the shrine itself from the weathering. Only the occasional soft pitter of the raindrop could be heard.

“There are five Spirits that represent each base element of life. Furaibi, Mizunosei, Aetherius, Terranox, and Inazuma. Each one unleashes divine power that corresponds with their element.” Powder paused her explanation, as she lowered herself to the floor of the shrine. She proceeded to wipe the wood flooring with the cloth as the young Kunoichi set to work.

“As you are aware, Tengakure was a village that now lay in ruins. Before the village became alive, the Spirits once roamed the island and were well loved amongst the natives. Each storm that brewed amongst the sea, each gust of wind that whispered through the trees. Was a calling from the very Spirits.” Powder turned her eyes towards Aizen, hoping that he joined her in cleaning the shrine. “But Tengakure changed things. While some were distracted by the immensity of the village, and all its glory it had to offer them. . the signs of the Spirits ceased to be. The village itself was a plague to what was outside it, and to the natives that kept to their ways.”

“Although, after some years have passed since the fall of that village, there have been words spreading amongst the islanders. That the Spirits have been showing themselves once more. The ones that have never forgotten them, have been gifted with their return. Or so we hope.”

Aizen's eyes shimmered with curiosity and reverence as Powder shared the ancient lore of the island and its connection to the Spirits. The echo of thunder in the distance seemed to punctuate her words, emphasizing the weight of the history and the power that lay dormant within the land.

Taking the cloth from Powder, Aizen studied the marbled statues of the panther that guarded the entrance to the shrine. The craftsmanship was exquisite, each detail a testament to the reverence with which the islanders held the Spirit Inazuma. As he followed Powder into the shrine, he felt a sense of awe at the sacred space surrounding them.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of incense and wood, the quiet stillness broken only by the occasional soft patter of raindrops on the roof. Powder's words filled the space, weaving a tapestry of ancient beliefs and forgotten traditions that spoke to Aizen's soul.

As he knelt beside Powder, the weight of the cloth in his hands a tangible reminder of the task at hand, Aizen listened intently to her words. The story of Tengakure's rise and fall resonated with him, especially with the idea that when there’s change, there are those who are affected negatively by it. Truly a cautionary tale of hubris and loss that echoed through the generations.

The thought of the Spirits returning to the island stirred something deep within Aizen's heart. The promise of divine power and elemental magic held an irresistible allure, a glimmer of hope in a world filled with darkness and uncertainty. He felt a sense of responsibility to honor the Spirits and their legacy, to help restore the balance that had been disrupted by Tengakure's demise.


As he worked alongside Powder, the rhythmic motion of cleaning the shrine became a meditation, a way to connect with the ancient energies that permeated the sacred space. The presence of the Spirits felt palpable, their watchful gaze guiding their hands as they tended to the shrine.

The limitless questions Aizen conjures into his head only continue to pile up. He can’t help but beg the question, ”When faced with retaliation and neglect for the spirits, Why’d the spirits disappear?”. He asks this question unaware of which element aligns with which spirit.“Sorry, that’s a terrible question to ask, there’s just so much I don’t understand.”. His rhythmic motion quickens, losing tempo almost reflecting his uncertain thoughts. “Are you ok with telling me more?”. Aizen asks more respectfully. Awaiting her response, he hopes he hasn’t spoken out of line.

The two fellow shinobi worked side by side tending to the shrine, both of which lived in two different worlds from one another. The one with hair that resembled the very waves that surrounded the island, lived in a world of divine possibilities in her belief of the Spirits. The other individual was shrouded in a mysterious aura, but held a deep interest in learning about what stirred around him.

Powder smiled softly as she witnessed Aizen's apologetic display. She noticed the way he was always aware and careful with his own approach to things, as if worried to ever overstep. “There's no need to apologize. You can ask as many questions as needed.” Powder responded in a way to reassure him, while also reminiscing back to when she was the one that always had questions for her brother.

“To be honest, I don't think anyone could really answer that question except the Spirits themselves. But if I was to give my own opinion. . I feel as if it was a way for people to realize through absence. Some don't notice the importance of things until it's gone.”

Powder folded the cloth within her hand, laying it across her lap as her eyes gazed around their surroundings. Luckily many of the people still visited the shrines to take care of them. It didn't take long for the two to finish.

“I don't mind in the slightest. Though we should be able to head back here shortly.” Powder declared confidently, adjusting her posture to a more comfortable position. She positioned her right knee in a way that allowed the kunoichi to rest her chin on top. “Let's see. . Furaibi takes the form of a boar who's bristly pelt resembles the glowing embers of fire. There's Mizunosei, who's form is an elegant deer. Mizunosei's very antlers awakens the waters within the surrounding lakes and rivers of the island.

And you have Aetherius, the eagle that rules the skies above. Terranox, the badger that dwells within the earth and dirt beneath our feet.”

Powder rose to her feet, her ears attuned to the sounds of raindrops falling on the shrine's awning. "And, of course, there is also Inazuma," she remarked, "The panther whose voice heralds the arrival of thunderstorms and crackling lightning."

As if in response to her words, a sudden grumble resonated through the woods outside, which suddenly captivated the young woman's attention

Aizen’s voice echoed softly in the confines of the shrine, a hint of apprehension coloring his words, “That must be Inazuma.” The name hung in the air like a specter, a chilling reminder of the panther spirit that growled just beyond the entry they came in from. A part of Aizen clung to the hope that it wasn’t Inazuma. With enough rain, the sky is bound to become vocal.  The grumble that reverberated through the shrine walls was unmistakable, it was Inazuma.

The grumble was a paradox, quiet enough to leave the surrounding nature undisturbed, yet potent enough to send a ripple of unease coursing through Aizen’s veins. He too, rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, an attempt to mask the turmoil brewing within him. “I know I’m clueless, but this is all fascinating” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fear gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, but it was overshadowed by the allure of the unknown, the prospect of being guided by a spirit. Aizen’s mind rewinds to Powder’s talk about the spirit’s resurgence. The spirits’ disdain for mankind’s turn to technology over tradition was a tale as old as time, and being in the midst of such a narrative made him feel like he was part of something extraordinary.

Why bother with questions when the answers lay just beyond the shrine’s threshold? With this thought in mind, Aizen made his way towards the exit, ducking under the low awning and slipping into his shoes. As he cast a glance back at Powder, a final question escaped his lips, “Are you coming?”

His excitement, however, was short-lived. The wait for Powder outside the shrine provided him with ample time to spot the panther, its imposing form a stark contrast against the serene backdrop of the shrine. It wasn’t fear that gripped him then, but surprise, and not of the pleasant kind. The large panther, gorgeous in color, frightening in size. Looking at something this unique is quite the opportunity. Each thought escapes his mind as he hears the footsteps of Powder grow louder.

“Nonetheless, you are a quick learner.” Powder responded in a hushed tone, as Aizen confessed to being a bit clueless in the matter. It might have seemed like a small praise at that moment.

The young woman’s eyes followed Aizen’s form, as he wandered carefully over to the shrine’s exit. Despite how well maintained his composure was, the young lass could still see the anticipation that gently gnawed at him. To him. .this moment was like chasing after a fairytale. To Powder, this was a moment of her living the very stories that the natives have always uttered around her. Her eyes were bright with growing excitement, for this was a moment she had been chasing since she was small. From the ethereal feather found on the mountains to the rumbling growl of what she hoped to be Inazuma itself.

Powder quickly, yet still quietly, hurried over to the awning. Following after Aizen as she slips on her shoes as well, retrieving her cloak from the rail.

As she swept the cloak onto her shoulders, the thick cloth still damp from the rain, Powder noted that Aizen had grown silent. Powder lifted her head, her eyes following his to see what had captured his attention. To see what held his tongue so fast.

And there it was. . almost camouflaged within the vast shadows of the forest itself, a massive form prowled within. To think that something so large could still maintain such stealth within the wooded area. It was beautiful and yet so deadly and frightening.

Powder’s cheeks grew warm with the excitement that continued to build within her. WIth this being a once in a lifetime opportunity, there was nothing that was going to hold her back.

As the vast form of the panther began to disappear into the darkness of the night, Powder quietly began to follow after it. Giving a quick glance in Aizens direction to see if he too was coming along.

He hears her soft voice compliment him. Though he wanted to respond, he remained silent. Aizen was still startled after merely finding the large, nearly camouflaged panther. Aizen stood frozen, his gaze locked onto the massive form lurking within the forest's shadows. The panther, Inazuma, was a specter in the night, its presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Its silhouette was barely discernible, blending seamlessly with the darkness. The eyes of the panther in the void were brighter than lightning.

The forest around him was alive with sounds, each painting a vivid picture of the world beyond the shrine. The soft patter of raindrops hitting the branches, shrines, and leaves created a rhythmic symphony, punctuated by the occasional rustle of foliage of small creatures scurrying for cover. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and the promise of a storm. Above all, the sound that held Aizen captive was the low and soft chuffing of the panther. It was a primal sound, one that resonated deep within him, stirring emotions he couldn’t explain other than soothing or relaxing. It was a sound that spoke of raw power and untamed wildness, a sound that was as mesmerizing as it was intimidating. As he stood there, lost in the symphony of the forest.

While shrouded in euphoria, the soaking cloth landing on Powder's shoulder lets Aizen know he's losing focus. Even though he wants to live in the moment, now isn't a time. Upon attempting to refocus, Aizen can't relocate the panther. Did it run? Was he going crazy? And then, he felt it - a pair of eyes on him. Turning his head, he found Powder looking at him, her gaze steady and questioning. It was her gaze that brought him to the realization that the panther was on the move. Her gaze served as a lifeline amidst the chaos of his distractions. With a nod of acknowledgment, Aizen stepped forward, following in the footsteps of Powder. The panther had nearly disappeared, if it weren't for Powder the Panther would've escaped into the darkness. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but it was overshadowed by the thrill of the chase. Aizen hasn't felt overwhelmed before, but he managed to suppress it. His only focus was strictly on the panther, the panther couldn't leave his sight. They both traverse the forest behind

As they journeyed deeper into the magnificent embrace of the panther, the forest enveloped them like a living, breathing entity, its dense trees standing like ancient sentinels, guarding the secrets and mysteries that lay hidden within.

A thrilling shiver danced down Powder's arms, leaving her breathless and uncertain—was it the chill of the rain that sent goosebumps racing across her skin, or was it the intoxicating exhilaration of pursuing the elusive Spirit? In that moment, her heart seemed to vibrate through her entire being, pushing through her very own eardrums.

The panther’s piercing, predatory gaze cut through the shadows, igniting her spirit and illuminating the path ahead like a radiant beacon, urging her ever onward into the unknown.

With each step into the heart of the forest, Powder kept a keen awareness of Aizen, his presence a comforting anchor as they followed the footsteps of a fairytale legend. She was acutely aware of his position, never allowing the distance between them to grow too vast, as if their bond was a delicate thread that she vowed to keep intact, intertwining their fates amidst the enchanting wilderness surrounding them.

After what felt like an eternity of wrestling through the damp embrace of the forest, the towering trees began to draw back, as if parting to reveal a hidden world awash in moonlight.

Just a few paces ahead, a clearing emerged, a mysterious den that seemed to beckon her closer. Powder came to an abrupt halt, her heart racing in anticipation as her eyes sparkled with awe at the sight. The den glimmered softly under the vast, silver glow of the moon, draped in an otherworldly light that wrapped around it like a tender embrace.

But as quickly as the wonder ignited within her, confusion darkened her expression. She nervously bit her lower lip, her thoughts swirling in turmoil. Where had the Spirit vanished to?

Powder couldn't have sworn that she was only a few yards away from the majestic creature, for it to suddenly disappear left her in disarray.

After finally accepting the fact that the panther was no longer within the vicinity, at least not to where they could see it, Powder turned to face Aizen. “I think we should go back and let someone know, at least someone we could trust. I don't know how safe it would be to continue on. . on our own.” She confidently knew that many of the natives were still loyal in their beliefs of the Spirits.

But before she could get Aizen's response, the snapping of a branch snapped her attention back to the den. Her azure eyes caused towards the direction of the sound, while her body suddenly grew tense. At the entrance of the den were a few mysterious figures. Three total to he counted for. And they didn't look like they were up to any good.

In that charged moment, Powder's hand shot out, seizing the tanto nestled against her thigh. Her movements were a mesmerizing dance—fluid, swift, and hauntingly silent. It became crystal clear: they were not ready to return just yet.

Aizen's gaze followed Powder's towards the den's entrance, landing on the three emerged figures. They were shrouded in shadows. Seeing Powder preparing for battle. He instantly raised his guard, gripping the tanto on his hip. Although they remain unlit, their menacing chuckles and ominous demeanors were a tell-tale sign they weren't friendly.

Collectively, the figures move towards Aizen and Powder. One by one, each figure reshapes after walking into the moonlight. Quickly and effectively, Aizen observes them. The first to appear is a tall woman with darting eyes. Behind her, the others reshape into a man with a broad build and another lean man with a scar running down his face.

The tall woman, about 193 cm, lets out another menacing chuckle before speaking. "Inazuma. The powerful panther spirit within arm's reach. To think we're moments away from absorbing its power. All we have to do is pluck Inazuma from these tiny zookeepers." Their chuckling continues. "Your names." Aizen demands while taking a few steps ahead of Powder. Regardless of how this ends, Aizen puts Powder's safety above his.

"If I were you, I'd also want to know the name of the future world leader," again followed by chuckles. "I am Kura." "Me Shiro!" the broad to her right grunts. "And I, Akai," the man with the scar said with a bow. Using the time it took for them to talk, Aizen checked for blades, tools, and any other weapons.

Each figure was armed, their weapons glinting ominously under the moonlight. Shiro wielded a hefty broadsword, its blade reflecting the moonlight in a menacing dance of light and shadow. Kura held twin daggers, their edges sharp and deadly. Akai, the scarred one, brandished a long, curved scimitar, its surface etched with intricate patterns.

The forest around them was eerily silent, the usual chorus of nocturnal creatures hushed as if anticipating the impending clash. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves underfoot and the distant hoot of an owl. Aizen's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he prepared for the confrontation. He could feel Powder's tension mirroring his own, her grip on her tanto firm and unyielding.

"Spare your introductions for your gravestones!" Kura says while grinning. The first to move was Shiro, his broadsword slicing through the air with a deadly grace. Aizen met his attack, parrying with his own weapon. Shiro's strength was barely matched. The clash of steel against steel echoed through the forest, a chilling symphonic battle. Any more clashes against Shiro could break Aizen's blade. Any further attacks from Shiro must be dodged.

Kura and Akai moved in sync, rushing behind Shiro. Kura focuses on Powder, while Akai alternates between Aizen and Powder. Akai's attacks are coordinated and precise with Kura and Shiro. Aizen and Powder found themselves on the defensive, their every move calculated to protect one another. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, her movements a blur as she fended off Kura's relentless blades and Akai's merciless swings.

The battle raged on, the moonlight casting long, dancing shadows that twisted and turned with each swing of their blades. Sweat trickled down Aizen's brow, his muscles straining under the relentless onslaught. Yet the two still focused on one another, protecting each other's back. Aizen, checking on his experienced ally, couldn't keep up with her swift speed. Powder's sharpness couldn't be bested.

Before he knew it, Aizen and Powder were gaining distance apart. Kura and Akai strictly focused on Powder, while Shiro mindlessly swung. It was a distraction. Without speaking, Kura, Shiro, and Akai silently formed a plan. Aizen quickly assessed this plan. With Shiro's next mindless swing, Aizen jumps over the horizontal sweep, kicking Shiro causing the exhausted broad to drop. Wielding a broadsword of that size would tire anyone out.

Upon landing, He turns to see Powder handling 3 blades with a simple tanto. Then, in a heart-stopping moment, Kura lunged at Powder. Time seemed to slow as Aizen saw the danger, his body moving almost automatically. He threw himself in front of Powder, the dagger's blade sinking into his side. Pain exploded through him. He fell to his knees, his hand clutching the wound as the world spun around him. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was Powder's face, her eyes wide. Everything went black. -exit-