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A fisherman and a demon meet on the open sea.
Visual reference for the Tengu featured in this story is available here.
This is a submission to the Thursday Prompt writing group. Using the prompt-word ‘mumble’ and the requirement for a story with a twist in it. Check out the group's user page by following this link. And the other stories generated from this prompt here and here.
This story has headed my FurAffinity page as a Featured Story
THURSDAY PROMPT STORY INDEX
The Tengu And The Fisherman
By: Dankedonuts
https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dankedonuts/
Long ago, when Samurai roared like ocean waves and Ninja whispered quiet as the night, when the foot of a white man had not set foot upon the isles of Nippon in many a year, there lived a simple village fisherman. He would set sail onto the sea at dawn, and come home after sunset. All the while, muttering to himself in all bitterness about his unhappy lot in life. Serf to an unruly lord. Father to an ungrateful child. Husband to an unfaithful wife. Whether his day’s harvest was rich or wain, he would head out and come home mumbling the same complaints. Silencing himself at the first sight of the docks or another ship's sail. For it would not do to let anyone else hear his angry words, and mark him a malcontent.
On one such excursion, just after a spring rain, the fisherman saw a sight he had never seen before. A Tengu, silently watching has he reached for the first net of the day, and slowly put it down uncast. The bird-man was perched, light as one of his countless black feathers, upon a slip of driftwood that would not have done to float a child back to shore.
The Tengu bowed respectfully, and the bow was returned, before he spoke. "Fear me not, O miserable man. For I mean no harm, and come only in the hope of peace between us. I have heard your mutterings many a time. Nearly every day, they rouse me from my sleep. I am a creature of the night, and I do dearly desire my sunlit rest.” A wide yawn preceded his next words. “Might a weary stranger offer you a boon, that you will come and go upon these waters with a smile upon your heart? Or, at very least, in silent passage?"
The fisherman was but an illiterate peasant. He knew precious little of mathematics and philosophy, or the other disciplines hoarded by his betters. Nor did he know much of the world beyond his village, for he had never travelled more than a day from it in any direction. But he was not entirely unlearned. He knew the ways of the sea and the stars, as any fisherman must. And he had heard tell of the malign creatures that lived in all the secret spaces that the Emperor had yet to tame. He knew what a Tengu was. That they were numbered among the hated Oni. That they lived to lure the unaware with the bait of hope, and twist that morsel into the hook of vicious irony.
But the fisherman chose to tell his tale, all the same, if only to unburden himself of its weight for a moment. “I bemoan a life lived in the shadow of others' discontent. My lord the Diamyō is not satisfied with the lands our Shogun has seen fit to bestow upon him. There is little secret now he seeks to supplant the master. His envoys pass our homes in the night, which is your chosen realm. They take up places hidden within the hills surrounding this fortress. When war comes, it is my people who will suffer. For to appease one of our masters is to betray the other. And neither needs so much reason to remove our heads from our necks.
“My son is not satisfied with what little I shall be able to bestow upon him when I fall. He is old enough now to know that his life will be one of humility and hunger. To see other men’s children enjoying the things he will never have. For he is the son a of fisherman, and a fisherman is all he can expect to become.
“My wife is not satisfied with my home or my bed. I am not the man she had wished to be betrothed to. One of the Ronin the Diamyō has drawn to himself is. A babe grows within her now, one that is not my own. But for honor's sake I will raise it as though it were, and the son of my blood will inherit even less for its upkeep. Tell me, Demon, what might one of your world have to offer a man whose woes are so deeply rooted in his own?"
The Tengu considered this question for a long moment. The tapping of a finger-claw against an open beak sounded not unlike the clattering of dried bamboo. Having reached a conclusion, he asked the fisherman to open his hand. Into a waiting palm, the oni delivered five large golden coins. Each bearing the Emperor’s sigil “A worldly solution for worldly troubles. Choose wisely how you put it to use.”
The fisherman looked down upon more wealth than he had ever seen in the whole of his life. He mustered a smile and gave his thanks. Then set his single sail against the wind. Back towards the shore, and a world of options.
. . .
Years passed before once more the resentful mutterings of a life unloved sounded over that space of sea. Once more, a lone fishing boat came up slowly in the wake of angry words. Once more, a Tengu stood upon too little flotsam to face it.
The fisherman and the demon bowed to one another as the boat came close. The fisherman knew the other’s face. And Tengu saw a shadow of the familiar in the human’s. “Did I not cross your father’s palm with gold, that he and his would not have reason to complain so noisily above my bed?”
The fisherman nodded. “I expect that you did. I have heard the tale many a time. Shall I tell you how it ended, for my father’s part?”
The Tengu asked in all politeness, “Please do.”
The fisherman raised a hand. Not in threat, but to count down. “My father spent the first coin to purchase the services and silence of a scribe. Whom he tasked to set down a warning for the Shogun, who lives far away upon another island, of the threat to his power brewing near our village. With this warning, he provided every traitorous name that had been quietly passed inside the tavern, the design of every banner that had been seen waving their way to the Diamyō’s fortress in the hills. The second coin was traded for smaller ones, which were used up seeking out and buying up information on where to go to have the message smuggled past the Diamyō’s men. The remaining three were used to see the warning delivered straight into the hands of the Shogun.”
The hand became a point, angling to the west. “Within a week of the smuggler’s departure, the Shogun’s forces were surrounding the Diamyō’s fortress. Caught unprepared for war, the traitor and his commanders committed seppuku. Many of his warriors did likewise. The warriors who would not end their lives honorably were hunted down and dismembered by the victorious Samurai. Their heads were displayed on pikes when the Shogun paraded through our village. But the innocents who lived to work the dead man’s land were spared such wrath.
“In reward for his patriotism, my father was given one of the largest houses in the village. It had belonged to one of the traitor’s supporters. As well as all the former owner’s possessions, the greatest of which was a mighty fishing ship. Lastly, he was given from the Emperor’s own coffers enough silver to hire men to crew the vessel for one year. He turned those gifts into a proud business. The village prospered for his success, and is now a town. He died, not two weeks past, beloved of his community.”
“Why then, do you bemoan your lot in life so?” asked the Tengu.
“I am my father’s second son,” answered the fisherman. “This old boat is all he saw fit to bequeath me. The rest lies in my elder brother’s hands. And his fingers cling tightly to it.”
The Tengu shook his head. “Humans are so capricious.” He said but one thing more before he leapt up and took flight towards the brightening east:
“I shall find a new place to sleep.”
THURSDAY PROMPT STORY INDEX
Visual reference for the Tengu featured in this story is available here.
This is a submission to the Thursday Prompt writing group. Using the prompt-word ‘mumble’ and the requirement for a story with a twist in it. Check out the group's user page by following this link. And the other stories generated from this prompt here and here.
This story has headed my FurAffinity page as a Featured Story
THURSDAY PROMPT STORY INDEX
The Tengu And The Fisherman
By: Dankedonuts
https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dankedonuts/
Long ago, when Samurai roared like ocean waves and Ninja whispered quiet as the night, when the foot of a white man had not set foot upon the isles of Nippon in many a year, there lived a simple village fisherman. He would set sail onto the sea at dawn, and come home after sunset. All the while, muttering to himself in all bitterness about his unhappy lot in life. Serf to an unruly lord. Father to an ungrateful child. Husband to an unfaithful wife. Whether his day’s harvest was rich or wain, he would head out and come home mumbling the same complaints. Silencing himself at the first sight of the docks or another ship's sail. For it would not do to let anyone else hear his angry words, and mark him a malcontent.
On one such excursion, just after a spring rain, the fisherman saw a sight he had never seen before. A Tengu, silently watching has he reached for the first net of the day, and slowly put it down uncast. The bird-man was perched, light as one of his countless black feathers, upon a slip of driftwood that would not have done to float a child back to shore.
The Tengu bowed respectfully, and the bow was returned, before he spoke. "Fear me not, O miserable man. For I mean no harm, and come only in the hope of peace between us. I have heard your mutterings many a time. Nearly every day, they rouse me from my sleep. I am a creature of the night, and I do dearly desire my sunlit rest.” A wide yawn preceded his next words. “Might a weary stranger offer you a boon, that you will come and go upon these waters with a smile upon your heart? Or, at very least, in silent passage?"
The fisherman was but an illiterate peasant. He knew precious little of mathematics and philosophy, or the other disciplines hoarded by his betters. Nor did he know much of the world beyond his village, for he had never travelled more than a day from it in any direction. But he was not entirely unlearned. He knew the ways of the sea and the stars, as any fisherman must. And he had heard tell of the malign creatures that lived in all the secret spaces that the Emperor had yet to tame. He knew what a Tengu was. That they were numbered among the hated Oni. That they lived to lure the unaware with the bait of hope, and twist that morsel into the hook of vicious irony.
But the fisherman chose to tell his tale, all the same, if only to unburden himself of its weight for a moment. “I bemoan a life lived in the shadow of others' discontent. My lord the Diamyō is not satisfied with the lands our Shogun has seen fit to bestow upon him. There is little secret now he seeks to supplant the master. His envoys pass our homes in the night, which is your chosen realm. They take up places hidden within the hills surrounding this fortress. When war comes, it is my people who will suffer. For to appease one of our masters is to betray the other. And neither needs so much reason to remove our heads from our necks.
“My son is not satisfied with what little I shall be able to bestow upon him when I fall. He is old enough now to know that his life will be one of humility and hunger. To see other men’s children enjoying the things he will never have. For he is the son a of fisherman, and a fisherman is all he can expect to become.
“My wife is not satisfied with my home or my bed. I am not the man she had wished to be betrothed to. One of the Ronin the Diamyō has drawn to himself is. A babe grows within her now, one that is not my own. But for honor's sake I will raise it as though it were, and the son of my blood will inherit even less for its upkeep. Tell me, Demon, what might one of your world have to offer a man whose woes are so deeply rooted in his own?"
The Tengu considered this question for a long moment. The tapping of a finger-claw against an open beak sounded not unlike the clattering of dried bamboo. Having reached a conclusion, he asked the fisherman to open his hand. Into a waiting palm, the oni delivered five large golden coins. Each bearing the Emperor’s sigil “A worldly solution for worldly troubles. Choose wisely how you put it to use.”
The fisherman looked down upon more wealth than he had ever seen in the whole of his life. He mustered a smile and gave his thanks. Then set his single sail against the wind. Back towards the shore, and a world of options.
. . .
Years passed before once more the resentful mutterings of a life unloved sounded over that space of sea. Once more, a lone fishing boat came up slowly in the wake of angry words. Once more, a Tengu stood upon too little flotsam to face it.
The fisherman and the demon bowed to one another as the boat came close. The fisherman knew the other’s face. And Tengu saw a shadow of the familiar in the human’s. “Did I not cross your father’s palm with gold, that he and his would not have reason to complain so noisily above my bed?”
The fisherman nodded. “I expect that you did. I have heard the tale many a time. Shall I tell you how it ended, for my father’s part?”
The Tengu asked in all politeness, “Please do.”
The fisherman raised a hand. Not in threat, but to count down. “My father spent the first coin to purchase the services and silence of a scribe. Whom he tasked to set down a warning for the Shogun, who lives far away upon another island, of the threat to his power brewing near our village. With this warning, he provided every traitorous name that had been quietly passed inside the tavern, the design of every banner that had been seen waving their way to the Diamyō’s fortress in the hills. The second coin was traded for smaller ones, which were used up seeking out and buying up information on where to go to have the message smuggled past the Diamyō’s men. The remaining three were used to see the warning delivered straight into the hands of the Shogun.”
The hand became a point, angling to the west. “Within a week of the smuggler’s departure, the Shogun’s forces were surrounding the Diamyō’s fortress. Caught unprepared for war, the traitor and his commanders committed seppuku. Many of his warriors did likewise. The warriors who would not end their lives honorably were hunted down and dismembered by the victorious Samurai. Their heads were displayed on pikes when the Shogun paraded through our village. But the innocents who lived to work the dead man’s land were spared such wrath.
“In reward for his patriotism, my father was given one of the largest houses in the village. It had belonged to one of the traitor’s supporters. As well as all the former owner’s possessions, the greatest of which was a mighty fishing ship. Lastly, he was given from the Emperor’s own coffers enough silver to hire men to crew the vessel for one year. He turned those gifts into a proud business. The village prospered for his success, and is now a town. He died, not two weeks past, beloved of his community.”
“Why then, do you bemoan your lot in life so?” asked the Tengu.
“I am my father’s second son,” answered the fisherman. “This old boat is all he saw fit to bequeath me. The rest lies in my elder brother’s hands. And his fingers cling tightly to it.”
The Tengu shook his head. “Humans are so capricious.” He said but one thing more before he leapt up and took flight towards the brightening east:
“I shall find a new place to sleep.”
THURSDAY PROMPT STORY INDEX
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Exotic (Other)
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 66.2 kB
Comments