Two Eyes Cenote The Menu

“Just there,” she indicates to a fellahin for the placement of a floral arrangement which she’d spent the morning composing with @Inji, “and mirrored on the other side of the room, all the way down to the apse.” Symmetry; balance. Ma’at represented in every detail.

Her face may have been alarming in its concentration, a mesmerized trial and error as she visualizes the way things could look. The servants work in a persistent staccato and she feeds off the momentum in the air.

Guests were due to arrive tomorrow in droves for the week-long celebrations. Between Toula’s fittings and overseeing the formal chambers, Eset was making frequent trips to the grand foyer.

There was one guest arriving of great importance, and the maidservant was anxious to be the first to receive them.

Suzuki Harunobu, Woodblock print. Music, dance and drama. Two Miko (shrine-attendant) dancers in a Shinto shrine holding gohei (purification strips) and suzu (bells).

Miko-san ga yattekita
The shrine maiden has arrived

A chance encounter had given Keiko the fortuitous opportunity to connect with an empire for a grand celebration. The Miko traveled West along a trader’s footpath until the mountain forest transformed into dry chaparral. There, the impression of the great Two-Eyed Cenote drew her in. She arrived poised and elegant; a pearl among the dry hills.

She had fastidiously bathed in the coldwater river of Hokkyokusei-sama’s valley until her furs shone a virgin white. A wreath of evergreen sprigs, cut from the Akai Ki, adorned her neck. In her possession were three parcels of fine fur wrappings filled with gifts, supplies, and formal wear. The young Miko, raised to know all the pieces of a ceremonial society, was in her element. However, a shard of her heart longed for her simple temple in the wild garden of her deity.

She arrived at the great entrance, which was abuzz with activity. There, a familiar face waited in welcome.

Keiko placed her belongings neatly to the side. “Konnichi wa, Eset-san,” she said, tone smooth, and dipped into a slow bow.

Suddenly a wolf unearths from the sand in a single bright illumination-

Keiko!

“Konnichiwa, Lady Keiko,” Eset addresses fondly, echoing the greeting. Into a deep bow she folds as low even as she would for the royalty of her land; a gesture to signify the respect of their Kingdom.

“Thank you for coming all this way to share your skills with the palace! Muat-Riya is honored to host you,” there is a warmth in her tone which the fellahin hopes conveys gratitude. Her eyes raise to consider the young chef, the budding wreathe encircling her neck, and the parcels set gently aside.

“Please, allow me to show you inside,” she offers to carry Keiko’s belongings and escort her first to the awaiting guestroom.

The coygirl is elated- yet equally tense! She’d met few others who appreciated small details in the way she did. Keiko was extraordinary, her tastes were refined. It was why the maidservant had spent so much extra time fussing over the spaces the guest chef would occupy- ensuring every floor was polished, every wall glistening!

She’d prepared for Keiko one of their grandest bedchambers with natural skylights that illuminated daylight sun and evening stars, with a tier that looks out over the pooling cenote below. As generous as Keiko was to share her customs, the fellahin also wished to ensure the best of their culture was represented in the decor, with bright blue iris clippings and wafting scents of bitter almond and myrrh. She’d lined the bedding in the softest of furs and upon it sat a gift especially selected: the rosetted pelt of an ocelot. It was a specific item of dress, one that designated a great status within the halls of Muat-Riya. Eset had intended it for the coronation dance, if the chef chose to wear it.

“I hope the accommodations will please you, my Lady,” she comments, awaiting eagerly any verdict that might now show upon the chef's face.

Eset’s sincere welcome made Keiko smile.

Though they did not speak the same language, Keiko felt a strong spiritual bond with Eset. Perhaps it was because they were both servants of great deities. Eset had Toula, Keiko had Hokkyokusei-sama, and together they shared a great humility and reverence for their gods.

Keiko felt that if she paid tribute to one region’s Kami and culture, perhaps Hokkyokusei-sama’s Eden would garner notoriety and respect as well.

~

The Miko followed Eset through Muat-Riya’s long halls until they arrived at her shinshitsu – though Keiko felt this was not the right word! The luxurious room was unlike any bedchamber she had ever seen. Keiko audibly gasped and put one paw over her mouth. “Subarashii desu!” she exclaimed as she took in all the decorations, big and small.

Then, she spotted the fine fur of an ocelot on her bed. She stroked the silky fur with one paw. Truly, this was a treasure.

=“Thank you, Eset-san. It is beautiful,”= she told her friend as she placed one paw upon her own heart. Then, Keiko unpackaged a gift meant for Eset. It was certainly more humble: a seasonal hairpiece made of twisted, green-colored Akai-Ki leaves, ribboned with white birch, and adorned with dried red chrysanthemum blooms.

“Kanzashi,” she explained and gestured to Eset’s raven locks.

Relief soughs as she follows Keiko’s enthusiasm around the chamber with her eyes- every detail, every enrichment, appreciated in full! She could not even cease the beating of her tail as the pale girl moved to discover the clouded gold patterning of the ocelot hide.

Eset’s nod is enthusiastic, hoping to convey without language that Keiko is greatly revered among her people- that she would always be honored within the halls of Muat-riya.

But she stills in surprise when Keiko bestows her own gift- a flowering garland designed with great skill. She looks upon the dried crimson flowers nodding on their stems, set their color. They were not so bright once parched but they did not lose their luster. They appeared to Eset even more brilliant- that their purpose extended now beyond the limits of mortality.

She glances into the depth of Keiko’s gaze, repeating gently, “Kanzashi.”

She has scarcely seen something so delicate. It seems too much, too ornate for one of her position. She will wear it for the wedding ceremony, she decides, but not the party. She must be careful to preserve it always.

“Arigatō, Lady Keiko- it is extraordinary,” breathless, she bows gratefully then gestures for the arched hallway of the room. It was time to show Keiko all the fine meats and flora the hunters of Akashingo had assembled for the feast -

The fellahin greatly hoped it would meet Keiko’s standard of sophistication.