We crunched across the hard dirt path while the evening wind bit right through my jacket, the sharp chill of the encroaching night carrying with it a subtle warning of what was about to come.
We walked until we reached the exact geographic center of the basin, where Mitsuki knelt perfectly straight on a white cloth.
She had no altar, no talismans or protective walls to hide behind. She just sat there in the open with a long-necked, three-stringed shamisen resting across her lap.
As we approached, she set the wooden instrument aside and stood up, and without a single word, she stepped right up to me with a soft golden light illuminating her palm.
She raised her hand, placing it directly onto the top of my head, and the very next second, a brief, warm and incredibly soothing hum enveloped my entire body.
"The mana-severing curse is set," she declared audibly, pulling her hand back as she looked over at Garek with a serious expression on her face.
