(Archive) Teoki Saito

*"If you ever see my name on a gravestone, just know that it's only temporary."*

## Background

   Born into superstition and a belief in the concept of immovable fate, Teoki had always been blessed. Being born under the Rebirth moon more than reinforced that fact to her family, who saw it as a portent from the Gray Lady herself. From birth, they put her on a pedestal despite her lowborn parentage, intent on grooming her into a mystic. Even if the arcane never came naturally to her, they were certain that intense study and devotion would bear fruit.

Arcane tomes, holy texts, and scrolls of Saito Clan lore swiftly replaced childhood toys. Any free time the young kitsune might have once had was done away with in favor of time spent in communion with the ancestors. A single-minded purpose ruled Teoki's life: tending to the souls of departed Saitos, overseeing funerary rites, and recording family history. Though it was exhaustive work, it was a labor of love. She found solace in the presence of ancestors and her studies more than provided the mental stimulation her keen and curious mind required.

That solace ended at the tender age of twelve. A deadly cocktail of illnesses ravaged the small community, leaving the old, young, and infirm fighting for their lives. The unlucky few who succumbed to all ailments were swiftly quarantined; there was little that the healers could do but ease their suffering. Fever burned hot beneath Teoki's flesh as seizures wracked her thin frame. She lasted through three long nights of agony before the toll it took on her was too great. With a hoarse death rattle, she passed quietly in her sleep.

"It's not your time."

When her eyes snapped open and breath flooded her lungs within her niche in the family mausoleum some time later, it very nearly gave the attending shrine maiden a heart attack. The poor girl fled amidst shrieks of rising undead with a slightly embarrassed Teoki not far behind. Naturally, walking out of the mausoleum on two obviously living legs after being declared dead was viewed as a miracle from the gods. If her birth had been an omen before, all but the most jaded of critics were true believes now. She was viewed as a living example of Pharasmin prophecy. Healers, diviners, and friends alike clung to her for years afterwards, each for their own reasons. Some wished to understand the medical marvel, others to use her as a focus to see beyond the veil, and even other still were simply desperate to bask in a shred of the limelight.

Much like with all things, time eventually blunted the memories of those who sought after her. It turned her experience from a miracle elevating her to celebrity status to a freak accident and later to a mere urban legend. Years without another miracle and being provably as mundane as anyone else certainly helped. Before long, Teoki returned to her books and prayers, which suited her just fine. After all, it was difficult enough growing up without an entire community breathing down one's neck every hour of the day. Studies picked up where they left off and she easily took to her role as a Pharasmin cleric-in-training.

The supposed-child-prodigy frequently spent time away with the mystics to learn what her role and duties would be within the clan. While she flourished in the role that seemed made for her, the winds of change had begun to sweep up the Saito Clan in their wake. A whitefur by the name of Minori Saito had been sent out to seek a better fate for all of her people just as Teoki was starting an apprenticeship. By her twentieth birthday, she had passed her mentor's trials with flying colors and ascended to the lofty position of head priest of the local Pharasmin temple.

That same year, fate intervened into the otherwise placid waters of her life yet again. Lovingly penned letters arrived on her doorstep on the 9th day of every month, painstakingly crafted but pointedly unsigned. Thinking them the mad ramblings of a prophecy obsessed fan, she dismissed the letters at first. When each new letter began growing more personal than the last, almost as if the writer had been watching her throughout the month, she began to worry. Much to her chagrin, the local guards were unable to find anyone that might be connected to the eerie correspondence as the letters continued to find her one way or another. Their contents rapidly grew ever more obsessive, detailing a fictitious relationship the writer seemed to have dreamed up between themselves and Teoki.

Almost two years of harassment began to take a toll on the mystic. As the letters' frequency rapidly increased from one a month to one a week and eventually one a day, she grew withdrawn. Hiding herself away from her friends and family in her paranoia, she only left her home to fulfill her duties. Those who were graced with Teoki's presence found dark circles beneath her eyes as even sleep eluded her. And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it all stopped. A month went by without the slightest sign of her stalker. Daring to hope that they had moved on or given up, she slowly returned to her normal routines.

On the second anniversary of the first letter, Teoki returned home from a long day at the temple to find that she was not alone. A stranger stood in the shadows of her only safe haven amidst the chaos, staring back at her. A yawning silence stretched between the pair, broken only when the man leapt upon her in a frenzied madness. Howls of incoherent rage tore from his throat as he shrieked to the heavens how they could now be together forever.

When the guards were called by concerned neighbors, they found Teoki stabbed to death in her own bedroom. Beside her lay the supine form of her attacker whose empty, dead eyes were fixed upon her blood splattered face. A knife dangled from his limp fingers, its blade drawing a carmine trail to both of his own slit wrists.

"There's more for you yet."

A bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the dank halls of the mausoleum for the second time in recent memory. This time, it was from Teoki's throat that the banshee wail rose as she jerked awake on the cold stone slab yet again. There was no terrified shrine maiden to herald her resurrection this time, merely eerie echo of her own scream. Her second return from beyond the grave was no less eventful than the first. Again, she was beset on all sides by admirers, curious souls, and critics. Public opinion of the fortunate fox shifted week to week.

Another bout of the limelight left her with a sour taste in her mouth as it forced her abroad more than she was home. While the grand opportunities were appreciated, there is something to be said for a bit of peace and normalcy. Teoki found herself craving both. Minori's return offered a respite; the clan was elevated to a place of prominence once more thanks to her deeds. The Saitos left Haven for the greener pastures of a lush valley they could make their own.

With change in the air, Teoki leapt at the chance to follow suit. She established a new temple to Pharasma that reflected her own experiences and beliefs. Though the eternal deluge of invitations to parties, presentations, experiments, and evangelistic excursions continued, she began turning them down. It was a relief to settle back into the familiar routines, finally. Sadly, we are only the architect of our own fate so long as the gods will it to be so.

An early morning walk through the graves of her church. Low fog drifted and danced between the stones and offerings placed before them. In the distance, the call of a familiar voice caught Teoki's attention. She turned, looking away from her path for but a moment. And then she was plummeting into the black abyss of an open grave.

"Off you go, now."

## Saito Clan

For generations, Teoki's sub-family has been responsible for seeing to the souls and preserving the legacy of Saitos who have passed on. They maintain sprawling grounds of graves and shrines, and a temple that acts as a repository of scrolls that detail bloodlines, births, deaths, and individual histories. Although Shelyn is held up to be the patron deity of the Saitos, Teoki's sub-family adheres to the tenants of Pharasma and reveres their ancestors.

## Appearance

A knowing smile and mischievious amber eyes are framed by a heart-shaped face. From arched brows, Teoki's nose smoothly comes to a pointed tip. Delicate hands and long fingers tipped with black laqured nails habitually push back dark ash hair that cascades in loose waves down Teoki's back.  Her most prominante features are the fox ears and tail that flick and swish along with her tone and moods. Fair skin and a slender form are often left exposed by her choice skirts that hang low off her hips and midriff-baring tops.

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## Personality

Teoki is someone who has given up and surrendered to the phiolosphy that whatever happens, happens. That's not to say she's apathetic. In fact she seems to enjoy life quite thoroughly in her own zen way. Her humor may come off a little morbid but most excuse it due to her unusual relationship with death.