Chapter Text
"In the dance of eternity, change and time stand as the unyielding constants. Not even the kami in heaven can escape this universal truth. To cling to the permanence of things is to ask the world not to spin. In the annals of our tale, a family emerges, guardians since the inception, their commitment fierce both for the world and to each other. Tonight, I'll share their story and how they shape the very fabric of our existence."
There was a puff of smoke, and the first puppet was introduced, it was of a man, tall and proud with a crown on his head, who danced along with the storyteller's words.
”Back when our world was still new, the sun and the moon stood side by side. Legend has it that Oroku Saki spent half of a millennium meticulously orchestrating a delicate balance between night's darkness and day's brilliance. He, the first king of the Gods, the first song was his hum; his sigh, the first breeze."
“Oroku made the Akuma and stored them in a maze. He watched the first human be born, then watched him die. he split his soul in two, one side of skin, the other of bones, guide and Keeper of the underworld they became.” A second puppet appeared next to Oroko Saki, who was split into two with a flick of his wrist and sent to the underworld to rule.
"He stomped the ground until it softened like clay, then molded soldiers destined to protect his new world. They became the first members of his clan".
A few giggles erupted from the children in the crowd as they watched the puppet of the Foot Clan sprout from the ground,
“But out of all the wonders he created, his most precious gem was his daughter, Karai. From the moment the girl opened her eyes, her father's sole mission became to make the world a safe haven for her”. The shadow puppet of Oroko Saki was now holding a little girl over his head.
“A noble act, if there ever was one. However, as any parent will tell you, keeping all the world's dangers away from your children is impossible. Even for a god. Especially when with each passing day, the world he made sank into chaos.” The scene shifted, the light tone now gone, as the white background became bright red.
"As power struggles consumed both heaven and earth, petty conflicts spiraled into irreversible chaos. The yokai suffered most; their kind pushed to the brink of extinction, disrupting the world’s delicate balance. Sensing its impending collapse, Oroku Saki’s desperate cries were answered by a malevolent tsukumogami in the form of armor. And the once benevolent king of the gods was reshaped into a monstrous entity known as the Shredder."
The silhouette of the armor manifested, dragging Oroku Saki away, symbolizing the transformation.
"What was meant to save the world plunged it deeper into darkness. Karai, witnessing her father's descent into fear and paranoia, abandoned hope for his redemption. She renounced the Foot Clan, declared her father dead, and departed, leaving behind everything she knew."
The shadowy figure of Karai was seen escaping from her father, transforming from a girl into a woman as she did.
"As Bittersweet as it was, her sacrifice did not come in vain. From the Ashes of the Foot came the Hamato Clan." On stage, the foot clan symbol burst into flame, and the Hamato symbol rose to its full glory, taking its place. "A clan of ninjas who did not rule but protected. Not just an army but a family." Alongside Karai, new puppets appeared behind her who wore the clan symbol.
"She led her new clan into centuries of battle. In the darkest hour, Karai unlocked a formidable power, Nimpo, a manifestation of trust and love for her newfound family. However, even with this immense power, The war persisted, and the Shredder's looming shadow remained. In their final battle, Karai looked up. She knew there was only one way to end this. She lifted her sword at the sky that her father once made, one of the few reminders she had of the man he once was. Her blade split the day and night. In the dark pockets of the in-between, she trapped her father in the twilight realm, but this great act did not come without sacrifice. She sealed herself alongside him. But before her clan could mourn, A new star appeared, symbolizing hope in the face of darkness."
The puppetry vividly portrayed the events, the shadowy Shredder contained, and the emergence of the new star in the sky.
"Even after their matriarch was gone, the Hamato Clan did not falter. They understood their duty.
And whenever a new light appeared in the night sky, the world saw it as a sign, a reminder of its guardians, a symbol of hope and perseverance.
For where there is Hamato, there is hope.
But within the clan, the meaning was softer. A truth spoken, woven into their oldest saying:
“Anata wa hitori ja nai.”
You are not alone.
No matter the path they walked, or how dark the road became, the clan would be there to guide you.
The new sky marked the end of the first era, but not of the story. As the years turned into centuries. Karai’s descendants did not wait as long to join her. Believing that if the Hamato way was not to think of only the needs of one person but the ones around you, then the sacrifice to keep the world safe was greater than anything they would leave behind." In the blink of an eye, a great deal of the Hamato puppets disappeared from the stage, while the few remaining stood with their heads hanging low.
"The result was bittersweet. While no one knew of Karai, just of her actions, there was tranquility, and the shredder wasn't even a bad memory, now a ghost story they would tell their children, so at a young age, they understood why their parents had to say goodbye."
Except when Hamato Atsuko said goodbye to her boy, her son's cries rivaled those of a Yonaki Ishi in the dead of night. Understanding their duty didn't stop Yoshi's eyes from welling up with tears, nor made him any less desperate as he clung to his mother and begged her not to go. As Atsuko turned around, leaving her son in his grandfather's care, she cast one last look at her boy before joining her ancestors above. How she wished she could have seen him smile instead of hearing his sorrowful cries as she walked farther and farther away".On stage, the puppetry depicted an older man restraining a young child as a mother disappeared into the shadows.
Hamato Yoshi never bought into that tale. As the years passed, his grief turned into resentment. He couldn't stand being part of a clan that repeatedly told him his sole purpose was to stop the Shredder, regardless of the cause. To be Hamato meant being a protector, putting everything before himself. He was sick of it. Then, on a night when his body was sore from training, he realized his mother's voice was more of an echo than a memory. That's when everything shattered.
The boy looked up at the sky with fury in his eyes. The ultimate monument of everything his Clan stood for—their purpose, pride, and honor. To Yoshi, it was a reminder of everything taken from him, a dark void that held his future. He tightened his fist and made a decision. He refused to continue, to remain unknown.
With his mind made up, he packed his things, prepared to leave it all behind. But not before plucking four-star fragments and fashioning them into a necklace. Whether he did this to spite his clan one last time or secretly take a part of his home with him, it was uncertain.
His grandfather went after him, trying to bring him back, but everything he said fell on deaf ears, even if a small part of him longed for what he left behind, though it wasn't enough to stop him.
He had transformed. Yoshi traded his red and black martial arts uniform, which had his clan symbol on the back and another smaller one on its obi, and red mask for a silk white, orange, and light blue kimono. His dark hair was styled with a kanzashi, made out of yellow and red peonies, chrysanthemums, and a gold crown decorated with citrine and sapphires.
No longer Hamato Yoshi, an unknown kami destined to give up his immortality and become one with the night sky. His new name was Lou Jitsu, the god of Fame and Fortune.
Having had enough of the shadows, he showed himself to the world like a comet—bright, big, and hard to ignore. He got what he wanted, to be known. What he didn't know, or what he refused to acknowledge, is that with every passing year, as he got brighter, the sky got dimmer. With that, an old era ended quietly, and a new one began.
With his charm and skill, humans and Yokai alike worshipped him, building temples and holding festivals in his honor. Every chance he got, he made a spectacle of his power, soaking up attention like a plant would soak up water.
In a cruel twist, the very thing that brought him reverence and glory put a target on his back. His power attracted a Jorōgumo, who went by the name of Big Mama. She was here long before the world, creeping in the darkness, building her power, weaving her web that showed past, present, and future, and who to trap in it. The god of fame was her latest victim.
He was no match for her charm. He fell, and he fell hard for her, claiming her as his love. She, however, had something else planned. Big Mama had fun with him, but when the time was right, whatever fondness she held for him didn't stop her from tossing him aside.
On stage, the puppet of Lou Jitsu found himself trapped in a giant spider web as a new puppet entered the stage.
" With the young Kami capture, and a new era approaching, an old Kami decided to strike. While Oroku Saki claimed himself as the guardian of humans, Draxum sculpted the Yokai. When the land became red with the blood of his precious creation, then having to watch as the surviving few were forced to flee underground, he was not as forgiving. As time passed, his anger and resentment grew toward the humans. In his eyes, they continued to prove they were nothing more than savages. The first king of the gods was gone, and he thought fit to resculpt the world, this time eliminating the humans and letting the Yokai rule. But something was missing in his plan. A key element he couldn't figure out.
Desperate, Draxum sought Big Mama for help. Knowing that she would share her power of foresight, for the right price, of course. She spun her web and whispered in his ear what she saw. What he needed was a powerful new god. One who closed the gap between Yokai and humans.
With a sickly sweet voice, she informed the warrior alchemist that her discarded toy was the perfect candidate for his little ritual. And she was happy to hand him over to him in exchange for a favor in the far future. He agreed, and with that, a deal was made.
Once Draxum had the god of fame in his clutches. He started the ritual. He planned to harness his power and create new warrior gods to act as his army, meant to destroy this world. So he could build his perfect one on top of the ashes of the old. However, Lou Jitsu was not about to go down without a fight. He interrupted the ritual, but it did not leave him unscathed.
While free, Lou was left deformed by the dark magic. Left to wander the forest, he made sure to avoid any living thing, not wanting anyone to see his new form. When night fell, his legs were unable to take another step. Tired and hopeless, he did something he had not done for centuries. He looked up at the sky, looking for answers.
He didn't expect anything. Convinced that it would be a starless night, sure that his clan was gone, and if they weren't, he doubted they wanted anything to do with him, but before he could get a good look at the sky, something happened. Just as dusk hit, he felt movement around his neck. He looked down and was shocked to see that his necklace was not only rattling, but it had somehow gotten bigger and heavier. He took it off just in time. The bead cracked open. Inside, there was a baby snapping turtle. the god was mesmerized by the turtle tot that perfectly fit in his palm, and who opened its eyes as the moon and the stars illuminated the skies.
Even with the inner turmoil he felt at that moment, he made a decision. With newfound energy, he got up, cradling his newborn and the three remaining beads, or better said, eggs, in his arms. He claimed the four as his children and used the remaining of his power to create a new home for them, somewhere safe and hidden from both worlds. And most importantly, from Draxum and Big Mama.
A decade passed when two of the three remaining eggs hatched, a soft shell at midnight, followed by a red slider at dawn. Then another decade, and at high noon, his youngest and final son was born, a little box turtle. That night, the four little turtles happily slept in their father's arms.
It had been thousands of years since he called himself Hamato, three hundred since Lou Jitsu. Now he was Splinter, and most importantly, he was a father. If the man had bothered to look up, he would have seen the meteor shower that filled the night sky. Unbeknownst to him, not only had he brought life back to the Hamato Clan, but he had brought hope back into the world. Along with a new era.
The curtain fell, and the crowd erupted into cheers.
After the show, the storytellers took their payment and rested with their current traveling companions, who were given front-row seats at the event. They went and rested under the stars that illuminated all the campers with warm light.
“So,” the leader of the expedition said, “what kind of marvelous legend will our dear storytellers tell us tonight?” The attention was brought to a trio sitting on the further side from the flame, and the figures raised their heads at the mention. “Yeah, we would like to hear more stories about the gods,” the youngest member chimed in excitedly, bouncing his leg like a child waiting for his bedtime story.
“You all realize that we just finished telling one, right?” One of them said as they took off their Weimao & Mil, which somewhat resembled a jellyfish, one of their many souvenirs from traveling as storytellers. “Oh, please, just one more story?” Their youngest member pleaded.
After a short glance at each other, the horned figure smirked, “Well then, if you are so eager, I think we can tell you the story of the turtle and the rabbit.” That said, confused murmurs were brought up from the entire group. "Do you mean the tortoise and the hare?
“No, no, no," the storyteller said with a giggle."This story is not that old. This is a story of love, love between a God and a mortal; a story of conflict between brothers but also of family and friends caring for each other.” The sudden silence gave immediate unspoken permission for the figure to continue.
"It all started in the heavens, with an unknown god whose name you will soon not forget."