The Thunderbird had always lived on Mount Kanna, rarely leaving and seldom showing herself to the people. But whenever she appeared, she brought thunder and lightning. She scared away the ferocious sea beasts that lurked nearby, stirred the skies above the island, and brought torrential rain that nourished the land. Unknowingly, she had helped the islanders in countless ways.
So the people of the island sincerely regarded the Thunderbird as their guardian deity.
To show their gratitude, they followed their tribe's customs and offered living sacrifices to the Thunderbird.
But the islanders never knew that the Thunderbird had never once looked at them. To her, they were as insignificant as ants, as small as insects. Their lives and deaths meant nothing to her. She scared away the sea beasts simply because she disliked them. She brought rain simply because her Electro power affected the cold air above, creating downpours.
From beginning to end, the Thunderbird had never interacted with humans. She had never looked at them. She had never accepted their living sacrifices. She had never acknowledged their prayers. In fact, she found their voices as annoying as buzzing insects—even somewhat repulsive.
And so, a long time passed. The Thunderbird traveled back and forth between Tsurumi and Seirai Island, her rains nourishing the land, providing drinking water and improving the barren soil. Gradually, the land could even grow crops like potatoes. The people had food to eat and lived in relative comfort.
In those chaotic days, not long after the Archon War had ended, being able to eat their fill was enough to make the islanders rejoice. So they worshipped the Thunderbird even more fervently, praying to her more frequently and prostrating themselves with greater devotion.
Then one day, as the Thunderbird stood atop Mount Kanna and spread her great wings to fly to Seirai, she passed directly over the kneeling crowd.
And for some reason, as she soared into the sky, a blurry, mysterious object fell from her and landed in the center of Tsurumi Island.
The people, still kneeling, heard the thunder rumbling above and dared not lift their heads, afraid of offending their guardian deity. But a few curious children, fascinated by the Thunderbird and the booming thunder, secretly raised their heads.
Just in time to see the falling object.
Their curiosity stirred.
"The guardian deity has given us a gift! A sacred feather?"
"No, it's not a feather."
"It's dark—I can't tell what it is."
"Don't speak nonsense! Don't be disrespectful to the guardian deity! Whatever she gives us is a blessing to our tribe."
"Thank you, guardian deity!"
"You brought life to Tsurumi, you brought prosperity, you protected the people of this island!"
"Thank you, guardian deity!"
The islanders cried out to the sky, their voices sincere, their bodies prostrate in worship.
But the Thunderbird paid no attention to the clamor of ants. She beat her wings and in an instant had crossed a thousand meters, leaving Tsurumi Island behind.
After she left, the mysterious object that had fallen from her still drifted through the sky. But strangely, it hung in the air like a phantom mist, descending very slowly.
The islanders remained kneeling, not daring to rise. Time passed. No one knew how long they waited. The mysterious object drifted in the sky, growing fainter, until finally it vanished without a trace.
The kneeling people were confused.
"What happened to the guardian deity's gift?"
"It's gone?"
"What's going on?"
"Let's search for it—it couldn't have just disappeared!"
"Has the guardian deity grown angry and taken back her gift?"
"Guardian deity, if we have offended you, please forgive us. We offer our sincerest sacrifice…"
The people wanted to find the vanished object. But it had disappeared in the sky, right before their eyes. There was no way to search for it.
Just as they were worrying, afraid of being punished by the guardian deity, something strange began to happen at the center of the island—where they had been kneeling.
A thin mist appeared out of nowhere, spreading from that spot. It grew thicker and wider, engulfing the wooden houses, the kneeling people, the towering cliffs, Mount Kanna, and finally the entire island of Tsurumi.
From that moment on, the mysterious mist separated the island from the outside world.
The mist brought many difficulties to the islanders. They could no longer see clearly, lost their sense of direction, and even daily life became harder. But the people did not complain about the Thunderbird. Instead, they were grateful. They did not see the mist as a nuisance. They believed it was a protective barrier cast by their guardian deity to shield them from outside enemies and sea beast attacks.
Since the mist appeared, no pirates had landed on Tsurumi, and no sea beasts had attacked the people. They no longer lived in fear. In a sense, the mist did protect them.
But living in the mist was certainly inconvenient. Even the island's natives often lost their way and sometimes even faced life-threatening dangers.
To navigate the mist more easily, the people of Tsurumi used feathers the Thunderbird had shed to create a special flute. They called it the Wooden Reed Flute. It helped them locate themselves, find their bearings, and go about their daily lives. It also brought them closer to their guardian deity, deepening their faith.
Out on the plains of Tsurumi, young voices often sang pure songs into the mist, praising their beautiful lives and their great guardian deity.
As time passed, a year went by, then another. A new ritual was being prepared to please the guardian deity. And the sacrifice had to be chosen in advance.