A Preliminary Study of Sangonomiya Folk Beliefs

A treatise by the modern Sumeru historian Shihab Pur Biruni, written two years before Inazuma's civil war. It briefly sketches Sangonomiya folk belief on Watatsumi Island and advances relatively new academic claims.

In general, the version of the legend widely accepted by both Narukami and Watatsumi peoples runs as follows:

Over two thousand years ago, Inazuma was at the tail of the Archon War.

Legend says that then the great serpent Orobashi broke coral branches from its own body, guided the people of the abyssal deep back into the light of day, and with mercy and pity gathered subjects, seeking a way for them to live on the barren coral islands.

But between heaven and earth that know no constant, small mortals inevitably hurt from surviving in hardship and grew dark with sorrowful misfortune. Neither the bright light of the sky, the quiet clear sky and sea surface, nor the giant-clam palaces flowing with rainbow light, nor the gentle teachings of the gods… could fully soothe the wounds of hunger and disease.

The great serpent never forgot its bitter past as a loser, nor its solemn vow that its people should never again be abandoned. So it asked the shrine maiden:

"My shrine maiden, why do the people of the abyssal deep weep? Since I have already driven off the dragon-spawn for you and let you see the light of day."

The wise shrine maiden answered:

"Famine."

The serpent asked again:

"To fail to fill my people's stomachs is indeed a sin. Then, my people, what do you seek?"

An honest village elder replied:

"You guided a path of life for us, taught us to build a sea realm without plunder, without bullying, without the suffering of oppression—this alone makes us feel the gods' grace deeply… And east of the coral islands lie broader, more fertile lands.

"Please allow us to set foot on the eastern isles, to win our own fields, so our descendants may have a bright past, a full future, and a present no longer gray."

The serpent neither agreed nor refused—only met them with silence.

Narukami unified the eastern ritual isles by force of arms. Defeated gods, by the laws of the Heavenly Capital, of course none were spared.

In the many years that followed, the grieving, barren people prayed again and again until at last they moved their Archon. Thus the serpent trained weak sea folk into fierce warriors, drove ships and sea beasts, waves and clouds, and amid whale-song launched an invasion of the Electro Archon's realm…

But the sea folk did not know—that the Great Watatsumi Omikami resolved on a violent quarrel with no hope of victory not for conquest, but for sacrifice.

It is said that in oracles the shrine maidens deliberately hid, the prophecy held that Coral Palace's eastward campaign was from the start a battle doomed to defeat, leaving the sea folk only a humiliating, straitened end.

Orobashi's true motives have no solid historical record. After people later found the oracle's content, this was the speculation they made:

The Great Watatsumi Omikami had long known it would no longer have a chance to escape death, yet calmly accepted the prophesied end.

If "faith" is to be eternal and undying, only "sacrifice" remains as the path. Even if the god itself is forever gone, the people will keep weaving joy, plenty, hardship, and the memory of loss into a faith that binds a region. The shame of defeat and vassalage, and the passion it kindled, also became nourishment for shared memory.

Though many Watatsumi people of today no longer believe the Great Omikami who once led their ancestors to open a path of life might still revive, the fierce self-respect of being Watatsumi's people; the pain of the god's body once revered being treated by the suzerain as ore to be carved at will; and deep grief for losing the Great Omikami… many strong, far-reaching emotions pass generation to generation, like an unwritten chronicle, laying footnotes of endurance, resistance, and sacrifice for Watatsumi faith.

As this author has said, Coral Palace's realm extremely lacks written sources; many motives become fictions left for later people to explain. This also makes its narrative history a "history of accumulated consciousness," not a "history that records fact." A people whose shared consciousness has been reinforced and condensed over centuries can, even after losing the god they loved, still contend with a nation that believes in a powerful elemental Archon… One must say such stubbornness is by no means mere mud of the past.

Worth noting: slighting past "facts" and valuing present "consciousness" is also a great shortcoming of the Watatsumi realm—centuries of accumulated resentment, centuries of endured shame, once fanned in lean years by those with ulterior aims, may bring baseless calamity upon the state.

But having said this—could the Watatsumi people, famed for wisdom and endurance, truly resign themselves to endless humiliation for mere survival?

Especially under the Kanjou Commission's economic extraction in recent years, more and more youths on Watatsumi Island speak of resistance and revenge—proof that such topics are not only of the past, but deeply shape the present and future.

Yet this legend of the serpent's slaying has another version:

When the people of the abyssal deep still lived below, they kept highly reliable chronicles. For without day or night, without that they would forget time. But by the serpent's order these were sealed in Enkanomiya and not to be brought out.

Even the names of the old abyssal people were not in today's Inazuman style—today's Watatsumi surnames only appeared after the serpent ordered them to learn Narukami tradition.

Legend says that when the Great Watatsumi Omikami decided to lead the abyssal people out of the water, it also once received an edict from the Heavenly Capital. The Great Omikami itself was a god of great sin that broke into the dark sea seeking to avoid the Archon War. It is not known whether a command from above required Orobashi to bare its neck for the blade.

Only, few on earth understand the script of the abyssal deep, and the books lie in Enkanomiya unseen. The truth may never see the light of day.

But this legend that implies "fact," compared with the one above that implies "consciousness," is only trivial unofficial history of no great import.