OKOSHI ─ jojolion.

000 | prologue.

★ . . . HE CAME TO THE MOUNTAIN gods utterly humbled and stripped of anything wordly he might have carried. The climb up to the bereft temple had been gruelling. Wind and rain shrieking in his face, thunder and lightning splitting the sky in calamitous flashes. His arms and legs were shredded from the rocks and sharp ledges; his cheeks were red and raw; his tattered clothes were even more pitiful than they usually were.

It was as though the storm had been the gods' last deterrence to him, their final attempt to get him to give up and accept the hand he'd been dealt. But as he stood inside the temple, breathing heavily and dripping rainwater onto the stone floor, it was clear this man would not give up. He would have dragged himself through hell and back if only to grasp the luck that had eluded him for so long.

He did not feel the pain in his arms and legs or the cold that gnawed on his bones. He held himself still, waiting for the gods that had promised to meet him. He had nothing left, be it material or otherwise. This was his last hope. He had every intent to fling himself off the mountain if this didn't succeed.

Life had stripped him bare and now he was here to beg.

The child made no sound as they strode toward him. There was not a hint of colour anywhere on their person, not even on the palms of their hands or the bow of their mouth. They were as pale as moon silk and had eyes as depthless and dark as a starless sky. They were young, barely ten, and yet they possessed a gravity and weight that gave away the centuries they had been alive.

"So you came," said the child.

He trembled. As if possessed, he swept to the floor, pressing his forehead against the cold stone.

"I have nothing left. No food, no house, no clothing. I have lived the palest shadow of a life. I beg you to help me. To allow me to wring something from this world."

The child's face was like blank paper. "What would you have us do?"

He rasped, "Ever since I was young, I have been unable to hold onto anything. Nothing in this world has ever been mine." His voice cracked. He was not yet nineteen. How could someone so young lose so much in such a brief time?

"Nothing can be given without a price."

"Take what you will, for what do I have to give?"

The wind howled in anguish outside. It was a wonder he had not died during his climb.

The child lay his hand upon his brow. All at once, his life flashed before his eyes. Though he had nothing, he had never been greedy or cruel or conceited. He had only been desperate, as anyone would have been. His heart was pure and true, shining tightly in his chest.

"I will give you a fortune that never runs dry," the child said.

He looked up at the child, his face slack.

"Your fortune will exist for as long as you are alive, and when you are gone, for as long as there is an heir to uphold and protect the fortune. This will be yours and your family's alone. It will be the one thing you never lose."

Tears shone in his eyes. And yet he dared not rejoice just yet.

"This will only come to pass if you are successful in one endeavour. You must find your true love here in Morioh before the eve of your nineteenth birthday. If you do not, you will die."

"My true love? How will I know?" he breathed. As he said this, a burning pain went through his hand. He cried out, and lifted it to find a brand had been seared onto his flesh.

"If you find your true love, the brand will fade from your skin," said the child, "and your fortune will find you promptly."

The man stared at the brand, then at the child. Wisely, he did not waste his breath. He only bowed once more to the gods before braving the storm once again, now with everything to gain and nothing to lose.

The child in the temple watched him go, his eyes hooded.

The gods had been lying.

If not him, then one his descendants would inevitably lose the fortune. It could not remain forever.

True love was a rarity, hard to find and harder still to keep.

★ ☆