Why I Chose This Story
Among the many tales of onmyōji preserved in classical Japanese literature, most spotlight the famous names—Abe no Seimei, Kamo no Yasunori, the great masters of the capital. But every so often, you encounter a figure operating far from the polished corridors of Kyoto, someone whose power was no less real for being exercised in provincial obscurity.
Chitoku caught my attention precisely because he exists in this middle space. He’s not a protagonist in his own epic. He appears, performs something extraordinary, and then the narrative moves on—but not before dropping a tantalizing detail that connects him to the most famous onmyōji of all.
I should note that the version presented in my collection includes some adaptation for English-speaking readers. Dialogue has been expanded, certain scenes rendered in greater detail. But the core narrative arc—the crime, the magic, the summoning, and the unexpected connection to Seimei—remains faithful to the classical source. What I find personally compelling about Chitoku is his ambiguity. He wields genuine power, yet the text itself seems uncertain how to rank him. Is he Seimei’s equal who simply lacked one piece of knowledge? Or a talented provincial forever outside the inner circle? The story never quite decides, and I find that uncertainty more interesting than a clear answer.
The Setup
A merchant ship is attacked by pirates off the coast of Akashi. The cargo is seized, the crew slaughtered. Only the ship’s owner and one servant survive by throwing themselves into the sea.
Stranded on the beach with nothing left, the merchant encounters a wandering monk who makes an impossible promise: within seven days, he will bring the pirates back—cargo and all.
What follows is one of the most striking demonstrations of magical compulsion in the classical Japanese canon.
The Tale
The story appears in Volume 24 of the Konjaku Monogatari-shū, the great anthology of tales compiled in the early twelfth century. It concerns a monk named Chitoku who lived in Harima Province, in what is now the southwestern part of Hyōgo Prefecture. Though he wore Buddhist robes, his expertise lay in onmyōdō—the Way of Yin and Yang.
According to the narrative, Chitoku had long served the people of Harima as a diviner and practitioner of the esoteric arts. When he encountered the shipwrecked merchant, he asked only one question: at what hour had the attack occurred?
Armed with this information, Chitoku took the merchant out to sea in a small boat. At the site of the attack, he traced invisible characters on the water’s surface and spoke words of binding. Then he returned to shore and instructed the merchant to hire men to watch the bay.
On the seventh day, a ship appeared on the horizon. It drifted into the bay with no one at the oars, no wind in its sails. Inside, the pirates lay sprawled and insensible, as though drugged into stupor. The stolen cargo remained untouched.
The local villagers wished to seize the pirates and deliver them to the authorities. Chitoku intervened. He took custody of the criminals himself, warned them never to work evil on these waters again, and released them. They were never seen in the region afterward.