Snow lined the mountainous landscape as winter's early breath continued to tighten its grasp upon the world. The bitter winds blew over the thick, solid walls, constructed from large stones in what seemed to be a perfect circle. And no where in that perimeter could a single door or window be found, nor a place where a handhold might be discovered.
Within the perimeter of the compound, rickety wooden shelters dotted the ground in a miscellaneous arrangement. There was a terrible shortage in livestock, thanks to the harsh and early-coming of winter, and very few of the livestock chose to venture out of their cabins so close to dusk, when the faint light of the sun through the scattered clouds waned the most.
On the exterior side of the wall stood a magnificent tower, a tremendous spire that spanned nearly one twelfth of a league in all four directions. Its walls were made from blocks of solid black onyx, with windows were lined with bricks of diorite. At several points on the sides of the magnificent column, of the great architectural and artistic masterpiece, balconies jutted out, not large ones, but small ones, each belonging to an individual room. On one such balcony, one to which the scarlet curtains were opened and waving in the breeze, a lone observer gazed into the mountainous distance.
He stood there, wearing a dark black silk fundoshi that draped down to spread about his ankles. It rippled in the wind, but stayed in place enough for decency. Draped over his right shoulder was a long, scarlet sheet of satin. Even in his bedchambers, Lord Chishiotono always kept himself perfectly groomed.
His body was pale and slim, but perfectly sculpted as though an artist had chiseled his features from a block of marble. His hazel eyes seemed almost composed of several different colors, and yet no one who gazed into them could ever distinguish between them enough to name them.
His face was framed by long, thick, wavy hair that was as black as the onyx of his tower. At rest, it reached down to his tail bone, but at the moment it was blowing to his left, lifted by the long arm of the winter winds. A few locks of the silky tresses blew in front of his face, but he let them be. For that moment, he would simply relax and enjoy the frosty temperatures that never chilled his skin. A moment of peace, before he had to return to the pressing matters at hand.
Sensing someone approaching, he sighed out of habit, watching the heated air become mist as it escaped his lips, and was quickly carried off on the breeze. Turning reluctantly, Chishiotono reentered his chambers.
The delicate and almost timid knock at the door gave Chishiotono almost no choice but to smile faintly. After all, Shanijin's appearance would have made such shy behavior appropriate. Except that there was far more to Shanijin than her docile appearance.
"Come in, sister," he said, letting the almost-smirk fall from his face as the gilded ebony door swung open to reveal Shanijin.
She stepped into the room, and anyone might have thought her to be as simple as she appeared. She had shiny, beautifully curled blond hair that she kept in pigtails, tied off with a sky blue ribbon. She wore a dress of the purest white, with ribbons of the same sky blue tied at the lacy neck. Her sleeves were short and ruffled, also fringed with enough lace to make a court bard shamed, revealing her arms. Some might have said that they were indecently tanned, as though she had had nothing more to do than to spend her days gaily playing among the flowers outside, but the truth was far different.
Shanijin had been born to a poor farmer, the youngest of seven children. She had had to work in the fields almost as soon as she had been born, and that had lasted up until around her eighth hear. That, of course, was when she fell ill.
By some chance, Jinkei, Chishiotono's sire, had been passing through, and learned of her illness. For some strange reason, he took pity on the mortal girl, and allowed her to be cured, to live forever as nobility, with power of her own.