The Sakitari Cave Tales The following collection of stories was originally told, according to Okinawan legend, by a small woodland spirit,
known as a kijimuna, to a gathering of fishermen within Sakitari Cave on Okinawa Island.
PROLOGUE
You think history starts with you.
Ha.
History owns names and beings beyond your simple minds.
This island here – the island you claim as yours – was so much more than a rest from your boats and your measly catch. No, before men sliced the innocent back of the great sea and crawled like ants upon this land, gods dwelt here. They laughed here, cried here, battled here.
And, became legends here.
Look at you – you know nothing of such glory. Ignorant fools! This land was invaded by monsters even the bravest among you would shudder and quake upon their appearance -- evil Oni with rock skin and weapons that threw fire; mystics who destroyed entire populations with just their minds; and robed fiends, dancing to the will of the wind.
Believe me, you wretched fish graspers, these beings brought year after year of terror and sadness to this island. And, these were just our common foes. Ancient enemies came from lands across the great sea, some with the power to move whole mountains, nourished by cruel water, others descended from the sky, flickering and wavering like green phantoms.
Oh, but our gods held strong - the gods of this island. Even when down and nearly defeated - when the spark of life was dim – our gods persevered. They took many casualties, sure, but they stalked and prowled and pounced on our enemies, as well, crusading into hostile homelands, wreaking terror and fear.
For our gods - the great gods of this very island - were Shisa!
--
But, all this is just grandiose talk, my simple friends. A simple speech made of generalities for simple beings as you. So, let me tell you the tales of our gods broken apart into seven setting suns. For then - oh, for then - you poor souls may just come to understand the true glory of our gods – our gods, the Shisa.
Last edited by DougO on Fri Aug 30, 2019 5:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Ah, the wine! The wine! The glorious wine! Received in exchange for an aging god! And, who could say, was this theft? But, from whom? Who is the thief and who is the dupe? Trust in the Shisa, no? For they are our gods.
A ritual of hostages -- an ancient ceremony with significance lost, pomp done with tongue caressing the cheek. But, oh, the power grasped by such maneuvers. Our gods were not immune to such plots and ploys.
Listen, you soft-minded fools, the battles fought by our gods required cunning and sacrifice. Future victories secured by the loss of trusted companions. Mighty Shisa, with all the guile of their youth but the curse of age, sent as hostages to enemies for the promise of a glorious future -- stronger gods, fiercer gods, summoned from the dark slough.
Oh, but our gods remained strong despite the short-term loss in numbers. For in the days following these particular rituals, our gods, with the confidence afforded by only the best of spirits, leaped upon the backs of green phantoms, ripping the very foundation of their power. Oh, the awe of our roars! The phantoms, defeated, slithered behind clouds of misery and sadness (2-0). Before returning home, though, our gods -- the Shisa – rampaged through the wrinkled, gray lands of the eccentrics, quieting their heinous lamenting over the glory of the past (3-0).
Oh, you horrible fish-graspers, our gods reaped many victories during this time, gaining confidence and hope. But, all would not be quiet. For on the deep horizon, honey-covered beasts ripped through the great sea -- on a quest of their own, a story of their own telling – to make conquest of our homeland.
