Son of the Skies

	It was up in the mountains of Tatsu-To, you know the place? It's the oldest temple still standing in Mizuho. On the eve of the new year, Ryus like myself make the pilgrimage up the mountain to ask the spirits of our ancestors for their continued guidance and blessings.

	As the current matriarch, Shinryu, our most revered mother, led the ceremony just as she had done every year for almost three millennia. Our Shirohebi miko never make the trip up the mountain-- too cold. In fact, the journey is almost exclusively made by Ryu. Husbands too, if married. I was not married at the time. My worshipers had offered suitable men... I was eighty-two. Young, restless and unwilling to settle down. I ventured to the temple alone.

	Father was there, standing at mother's side as she began the opening chant. Try as she might, mother could not concentrate very well. Her mind was in a different time and place. As you know, it was four centuries earlier when everything changed. Lilith, the current Demon Lord, touched every Yokai and mortal God with her magic. Making them beautiful in the eyes of Human, Elf, and Dwarf men. Not that we Ryu had any trouble with that before. Quite the contrary!

	But I digress. Mother never had any male hatchlings. It was a never a problem before. “Some day,” she would tell my sisters and I. But Lilith had become increasingly intolerant of Yokai that did not fall in line for her path. So she once again used her magic, this time to remove our ability to sire male children. Every Yokai in Mizuho was afflicted, just like the Uwhal continent and the Misty Isles. The issue did not concern her in the first few decades. But gram by gram, the the issue became increasingly more pressing. After a century, it weighed too much on the mind of mother and father.

	Even we gods have desires. Odin wanted wisdom, Placeholder wanted blank, but mother and father wanted a son more than ever. Us children and a few of their most devoted followers knew this secret. Our matriarch tried to carry on as normal with her duties, not an easy task especially that year. It seemed like she was always distracted.

	As she tried to concentrate on asking for the help of her ancestors on stately matters, she was not expecting an answer for her personal needs. The sound of a sudden drop coaxed a surprised shriek from one of my sisters. Such a distraction put strain on mother's nerves. It wasn't uncommon for traveling monks to overexert themselves on their way up the mountain only to faint when the ceremony began. Shinryu clenched her eyes shut, attempting to continue on with the prayers. But the continued commotion of murmurs and concerned hissing grew as more eyes opened to see what the fuss was about. Mother's eyes shot open. Utterly shocked to see a young boy laying unconscious in the middle of the cobblestone courtyard. Our ancestors had answered mother's plea.

Storms of Isolation
Interview with Admiral Soryu
By Nyu Nyu Emond
Ratatoskr Press, Avalon, 2046

LATER

The Ryu slithered into the room where the Hakutaku was looking after the boy. Zhening was librarian for the ancient archive inside the temple. Lady Shinryu became worried after just one glance at the librarian. Things were not going well.

The Hakutaku did not notice Lady Shinryu's approach. She looked up and was startled by the Goddess, dropping the notes she had recorded about the boy's condition.

“Lady Shinryu forgive me, I did not hear you enter.”

“Is the boy well?”

“No- well, yes.”

The Goddess raised an eyebrow.

“No, and yes?”

The Hakutaku picked up her notes up from the ground and offered them to the Ryu.

“Goddess Above, this child is fine physically speaking... but his mind is blank!”

Lady Shinryu picked up the parchment and glanced at the scribblings.

“He has a name... That is it?”

“After looking through his memories, I'm grateful he had that much!" Zhening shouted in despair. She pointed to numerous scrolls and books thrown about on the floor. “I thought he might be under a hex but I know none that would cause this to happen. I searched other sources for something- anything that might restore his memories but nothing worked!”

The Mizuhojin Dragon slithered in closer to Zhening and tried to console her. “It is alright, I know you did everything you could for the boy and we are most grateful for your effort. Perhaps his memories will return in time.”

“It is no use.” The Hakutaku moaned. “Whatever has happened to the boy is irreversible.” The Ryu listened to her but she could only shake her head dismissively. The water Goddess asked Zhening how she could be so sure. The archivist explained that with something mundane like amnesia or mental trauma, the memories are shrouded in a dense fog that the Hakutaku cannot see through. But in the case of the boy....

The librarian shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she tried to find the right analogy. "Think of his memories as a glass vessel. Someone tried picking it up but their hands slipped. The vessel dropped and shattered. The big pieces were gathered but a number of tiny fragments remain. I can see those pieces clearly but everything else is just an empty space waiting to be filled."

The Goddess was displeased by Zhening's prognosis. But the divine Dragon trusted the wise old ox's judgment. Shinryu knew she spent every moment at the boy's side. Searching both her brain and the boy's for answers neither possessed. When her own knowledge fell short, which is a rare occurrence for a Hakutaku, she took it as a challenge and sent for every text and tome she could think of within the temple archive. Zhening never stopped until she exhausted every resource in the temple.

Lady Shinryu pitied Zhening. For in all her centuries, never once did the dragon witness a truly bewildered Hakutaku.

“Thank you again for all you have done.” Lady Shinryu said as she moved over to the side of the bed. With tender care she scooped the sleeping human up into her claws. “I will look after the boy now. Try to get some rest.”

Zhening bowed before the Goddess as she took her leave with the boy. The wise old ox collapsed onto the bed not a moment after they were gone.


***
(This section below is how I'm going to try structuring the whole story which is a change from my normal setup)
	He could hear a woman's voice: Sweet, gentle, but unfamiliar. And she was speaking but the words were funny. He had never heard any of them before.
	That's singing, just like mommy...Wait, who is mommy? His groggy mind wondered from one thought to the next. The child mumbled incoherently as he rubbed his eyes. The boy wasn't ready to wake up and he didn't want to open his eyes just yet. But at the same time he wanted to see the person that was singing. In the end, curiosity won. His eyelids slowly parted. Sight was blurry but he could still make out some details. She had white hair, it reminded him of silver. And she had these things sweeping back from her face. fins? the boy thought. He blinked a few times to get the blurriness to go away.
	Yes, pretty blue fins, the child confirmed. They started as two separate lines of small scales on her cheeks and jawline before meeting together and sweeping back. From there, his gaze climbed upward. Horns. He did not notice those before. They were golden and protruded up from her head like antlers. The boy thought that was strange. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed a frown. Where did he learn about antlers? He was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice the pretty lady had stopped singing.
	“Ara? You are finally awake.” His attention immediately went back to her, the girl behind the sweet and gentle voice.

	He had been sleeping so peacefully. Shinryu would not have minded much if he remained that way. But even so, it was a great relief to finally see his blue eyes open for the first time. Like mizu, the goddess thought. She had considered the character for his name when looking at Zhening's notes on the boy. But she had already made her decision.
	“Hello, Ryuichi.” She greeted him.
	“Ree-you...eechee?” Shinryu rewarded his response with a warm smile.
	“Yes, that is your name.” The boy gave a gentle nod, accepting her statement as fact.
	“What is your name?” He asked.
	“I am Shinryu, your okaa-san.”
	“My what?”
	She laughed. “Do not worry, I am sure you will pick up the tongue, all in good time. It merely means I am your mother.”
	“Mother.” He spoke the word aloud, as if for first time. Then there was the sound of footsteps outside the room. The goddess turned to face the entrance.
	“And there is another you should meet.” She told him, knowing well enough who was approaching. After the first century or so, knowing her husband merely by his footfalls become a simple matter. He was taller than most Mizuhoan men but not by much. He wore the most elaborate robes of any priest or monk on Tatsu-To, as befitting his absolute devotion. His hair black and eyes like amber... No, not amber. That was a more fitting description for her own eyes. She thought Kamu's eyes resembled gold. He entered through the door, holding her most cherished treasure; a golden pearl. Scores of years had past by in her search for that frustratingly elusive orb.

	Even after two millennia, Kamuyawimimi still feared that he might drop the dragon's pearl. It took many centuries before the Ryu finally allowed him to handle the orb. It was a remarkable gesture of the trust he had earned. On that memorable night, she had sought him out. Came before him, not as a mighty serpent, but as a beautiful woman offering him a bond far more important than that of a priest and goddess. From that night hence, she was his wife.
	He approached and, with absolute care, handed the pearl to it's rightful owner. When she reached out to take hold of the precious globe, he felt her claws come to rest on his hands. She had such strength and power restrained behind her gentle demeanor. It was one of the many things he admired about Shinryu. For a few seconds the two both held onto the orb, looking into each other's eyes. Sharing a tender moment before he slowly let go and the object was in her claws alone.
	“Ryuichi, this is your father.”
	The Kamu looked at the boy. His child by the spirits of the Ryus that came before. It could be nothing else, of course. That was now certain. Everyone had been unsettled by his appearance. Children just don't wander up the mountain. Yokai perhaps. But a naked human boy without any exposure to the cold?
	The son of Jimmu shrugged the thought from his mind. The boy did not walk up the mountain. He simply appeared. Right in front of his wife, and with over a score of witnesses assembled, two dozen Ryus and more than half as many husbands. That itself was an omen.  And they could not discover where Ryuichi came from, much to the sorrow of Zhening's pride.
	The child was a blessing from their divine ancestors. From Amaterasu to