Water-design Journal 1
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I became a shrine maiden after I survived that flood.
I was half-dead when I awoke, alone amongst the corpses.
I could see things. Things that no one else could see.
That was my calling.
I purified my body, and when I arrived at the mountain, I was overwhelmed with a cacophony of voices.
The talking trees, the whispering stones, the weeping water.
Echoes of past prayers piled up one on top of another.
Time slowed to a crawl, and I could see each individual raindrop that fell.
The veins on every leaf stood out vividly.
Images of death flashed in front of me. I could smell the choking stench of death.
I was told I would need more training.
I wanted to flee as soon as I arrived, but I had no home to run away to.
No matter where I go, it will be the same. In the end, I will be alone.