Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bliss was an emotion quite like no other. Here, in nothingness, did she drift along with it. She lay motionless against the cool, serene currents as the murky depths of her mind emptied itself. She could not perceive, but that did not perturb any when brought into a grander perspective. As such, it did not perturb her. Only was it of major importance to be and to dwell. What it was to dwell. Thinking came easily when she could do so. However, it was not always the greatest of ideas to simply think. What there was to conjure thoughts about hadn't dawned on her.

Silence was quite interesting. It could mean the best of outcomes. However, it could also signify the worst. It would be the situation determining that factor. Where she was, it did not mean either. Only in literature was something purely evil or good. Hells and heavens. Heroes and villains. No gray unlike now, unlike the quiet. A greater threat would never occur here, but neither would a divine intervention. It was not a definite fact, but it is what she chose to confide in.

In this expanse, there was not an immense amount of pressure. She was not meant to do. What there was to be done was non-existent, just as she was as well. She was miniscule in the essence of the universe, in this reality. A singular mass where there was no one else. At least, to the extent of her limited perception. Was she truly alone here? Loneliness did not yet possess her, but would it? It would be a shame for this loveliness not to be shared with another. Basic it was here, and it was that simplicity that made it ever more pleasing. Perfect.

If only a chance of fate, was it so that a glow appeared. White and burning it was, yet at the same, quite marvelous. Not without meaning but puny in its form. It was bright and unwavering, yes, but merciful as well. Not harmful despite briefly seeming so. The beginning of something. The birth of a star. A star that could be destined for a fate beyond the control of any. She could not see it but rather, feel. She felt it expand, grow larger. Turn and shift. Felt it scorch as it danced across the surface and ignited pure, unending light.

It sparked into a cold fire spread far and wide. Burnt and lit the sea as it made its way towards her. White in a tango of blacks as they both fought for control. The waves spanned high and low with every move, the true battle commencing between the two. However, despite their looming presence shortly and surely becoming known, it made no difference to her. She made no attempts to move away from the battle, only waited as the opponents raged with furious intent.

Yet, no destruction had been left behind by the clash, but the effects were still apparent. The river turned rough, and her body, trapped by the liquid all around. It was still ever the more peaceful for her despite this. Her movements restricted to absolutely nothing at all, yet it did not bring upon any worry. It inched closer, the water turned lukewarm. The bleached blaze roared in her ears as it overtook.

Mellow, fiery hands grasped her as the flames blanketed her skin. Yet, it did not hurt. It felt more like a docile animal, calmed. It rose her up, pushed against her resting place. Higher and higher it rose, fear not to be found. She was no longer going to remain here; she knew at that second. Yet, it would not be detrimental. Desire surged in her chest to the rhythm of her breath. Somewhere, somehow, she would be all right.

Consciousness arose in her as all disappeared. The light blinded her, caused her pupils to constrict against the harshness of it. She quickly adapted to the unfamiliar environment as she felt the new, petite leaves against her flesh, the smells of freshly cut grass amongst other things. In her mouth, she tasted newborn rosemary, the tangs of the spice enlightened her tongue. She could move, she felt. Her arms, touched by the smooth grass blades. Her back rested against nature’s bed. Mari’s eyes, previously hidden in the darkness of the void but weightless despite her previous slumber, opened to a scene unlike anything she had ever witnessed.

Honeydew and lavender intertwined with the soothing, warm breeze as expansive fields of pale and elegant winged blooms swayed along to the soft sounds of a poetic melody thought to have been lost long ago. The wisp-like clouds, white as the orchids, slowly rolled into view whilst keeping the brilliant summer sky clear. The sun’s rays shimmered onto the delightful landscape. In the far distance barely within the eyes’ view appeared a canopy encircled with the very plants to be found everywhere, the light curtains on its exterior doing nothing to hide the contents inside. A dimmer hue of wood was used as the foundation and flooring, the barely darker shades given to the occupied, albeit orderly, furniture. The figure, in front of the wide window with similar if not the same curtains that the structure had, sat patiently on their chair alongside a table with a stunning tea set on the top of it. Another chair identical to theirs was there as well, at the opposite end. They quickly but with precision drank from the object before and, without missing a beat, noticed she had come to awareness. With what appeared to be a toothy smile on their pale face, they beckoned her forward to join them.

She stood up; her silky dress pristine as she would have always wished it to be. She saw not but a reason to decline the kind request as not a suggestion in the body language of the stranger indicated any need to be cold or suspecting. Youthfulness surrounded her very features as she did so, traced around her body in a gentle but playful manner. Quite a surprise to her, she supposed, the new feeling of limitless energy beyond whatever she could have hoped to desire, but it was not quite unwelcome. Her hands, her fingers, as she held them up to her face, were free of the blisters and calluses she had obtained before. Mari, having touched them to her neck, could feel the delicateness of the amethyst asters and the snowy chrysanthemums braided together. It reminded her of a foggy memory she could not quite place, even more so when she found an identical one placed atop her head. A group of young children, and a boy like herself; faces of joy and glee as they went about their activities.

Despite the obvious happiness of every individual, she felt something else. Many conflicting emotions; thoughts. No, thoughts but not quite thoughts. Another river of bittersweet symphonies, unwinding into simple echoes as they whispered past. Twists and turns within the music that they created; secrets yet to be uncovered from the very glassiness of her reflection. A life beyond the watery veil it was hidden behind, the truth yet to be told. These flowers she wore were significant somehow, in some way she had trouble comprehending. There must be some sort of reason for them to be there, an explanation.

She took a painless step forward, her bare feet carefully dancing with the pale beauties beneath her as they laid a path only given as to continue onward. With such grace and silence, she noted. Yet the personality that hid beneath those petals in the movements they carried out was not lost to her. Some seemed to go quickly as if a simple touch would shorten their lifespan. Whilst, contrary to their siblings, others appeared aloof. As though moving was only necessary when there was a true and deep need for it. Subtle as they were, the almost hidden qualities truly shined through if one were to put much thought into the subject itself. The unspoken, eloquently crafted words and vibrant personalities said in a language few had the capability of understanding.

It spurred a recollection of one of the people from before. Silent, yet not quite so. Little. Thoughtful. Sunny.

Walking came easy to her once all had been cleared. Wind brushed her long and silky hair, the ebony color absorbing the sunshine gifted to her as she observed more of the little world around her. The rustles of grass and flowers as obscured rabbits played with friends. The chirps and calls of concealed sparrows and owls long gone to sleep. The slow trickle of liquid poured into a fine cup. Sounds of these things mixed with the sweet strings and tender keys of the familiar tune, the love behind it all quite apparent to her. Uplifting, tinged with the slightest bit of another sensation; one that struck a chord deep within the core of her soul. It shook. Haunted.

Mari, heart alight with spirit of all kinds, strolled further to the figure. Their appearance became clearer with every moment that passed. Just as magical as her surroundings felt, the stranger invoked that same sense of mystical curiosity. Their black cloak fluttered around as all, but their mouth was covered by the slim golden trim around the edges. Milky bones lined with illuminated, intricate patterns replaced the fleshy skin that was worn by many as they locked and popped into each other with every minor movement; the unconscious process that allowed such smoothness in milliseconds suddenly unveiled with the first glance at such a being. Every tiny detail was put into all aspects of the work, as if it was so that every creature’s body was created with such devotion and mastery never given a true realization before.

In their chest were distinct species of plants and vegetation. Emeralds, ivories, baby blues, and candy pinks sprouted through into a plain but magnificent assortment of plants wrapped around their rib cage. Swirled the colors were, with comparable likeness of an old painting, yet it did not appear to have been confined by any canvas. Looking up towards their head Mari noticed quite a few more things. Onyx hair, much like her own, cascaded down their robes nimbly like a needle to thread. Sockets embedded into their skull where a singular, gleaming circle rested. An arrangement of teeth, white as lace, shown easily without an exterior layer.

Mari bounded high atop the structure’s grounding at the individual’s slight nod, a smile upon her lips as she slowly drifted down. Her toes touched the wood in such a manner that made the material itself seem spun from spider’s silk as the creaks were not as prominent when she made her way over to the velvet-laced chair. Sitting upon it, the apparent effort that must have been put into the well-decorated comfort was known. The planks arranged and sanded to its utmost highest potential as the fabric, woven with luxurious thread and confounded senses of something she was once aware of, displayed designs that felt complex despite their uniformity. They aroused unconscious thoughts that dangled above her grasp as they clouded and fogged with every tick of time that passed her by, made Mari’s heart ache with sensations she had not a way to put into description. Longing for the past. For a silly thing she could no longer have but never quite remember. But, oh how she wanted it. Even a glimpse, an idea, of what it was she yearned for would suffice. A minimal piece of knowledge that would quench the ravenous thirst that the deep pits inside her were infected with.

The clink of a teacup jolted Mari out of her own head, the skeleton-like creature smirking lightly as they poured the heated leaf drink for her. Their hands moved in such a precise form as to prevent any of the tea from leaking out of the steady stream of the glass teapot, the flower inside rotating subtly as it was done. They brought the lemon-brimmed cup up to her palms, folded in her lap just a mere instant ago, as they sprinkled a few tiny petals into the dark red liquid. Consoling warmness radiated from the object as it hugged her limbs. The nutty aroma blessed her nose as she graciously took a sip.

The tea traveled down her throat like honey, reminiscent of that to a luminous autumn day. A hint of chocolate made her recall the leaves that always ended up under the feet of children, jumping and rising with the pleasing sound of their crunches. Caramel lingered in the breeze as the last of summer’s heat gave birth to bright oranges and yellows for the world, a minor look at what was to come with the winter fast approaching. A new kind of lively-like decay, a facade failing to be unmasked until only was it so that the final moment remained. It was breathtaking, to see what the future held in store, what fate was to be conceived. Cold and bitterness, then enjoyment shortly after. Spring came after the season of death, as if to prove Earth’s resilience. It would return once more, it was unavoidable to at least acknowledge that fact, however it let the peaceful and memorable days be ever more astounding. Content.

“If it would be all right for me to ask, child, how is the tea? I have prepared it quite a few times now, however some say that it is not exactly fitting for their tastes.” The individual finally inquired as they slowly drank, a grin apparent despite the cup covering their mouth.

“It’s lovely. Thank you.” Mari replied, her lips curved upward. She placed the empty porcelain down onto the table, allowing for the other to fill it with what she now recognized as hōjicha once more. Despite what the figure had said the drink was a pleasant mixture of flavors. It reminded her of hot cocoa, perhaps, but more befitting of the fall season than the aforementioned. The tea lacked some of the original sweetness as well, not that the fact had brought any annoyance upon her. She accepted that not all items would give equivalent experiences.

They chuckled, placing their own teacup atop the table as their small but mannerly laughter filled the room. “No need to thank me young lady. Although, I am quite glad you enjoyed it. As I had mentioned, many seem to find their first taste to not be, for lack of better terms, pleasant. Once more, I am pleased you seem to have taken a liking to it.”

A small bout of silence had come upon the two as the figure’s posture laxed.

“Oh! Silly me. I do believe I forgot to introduce myself, yes? Many call me Luc, however you can choose any other name you see fit. It is delightful to meet you dear.” Luc recalled; their bony finger rested against their chin.

There were layers to Luc, one look would certainly determine this. They were quite intriguing with their speaking patterns, elderly tone, and fantastical-like presentation. They were friendly to a degree, yes, however they carried an air of wisdom with them. It was not unlike an elder that asked about her day and enthusiastically told stories of the far past. The ones who gave purpose, encouragement. Who loved until it was once again their turn to leave. Those to be cherished.

But she quite liked that name. It fit them well. However, she felt like she had heard it before their interaction. Or, at least, a variation. She was not sure where the name would have been said but, even so, it was not something that gave her any frustration.

Cheerfully, despite her pondering, she answered in response. “It’s very nice to meet you! My name is Mari.”

Luc reached to their flamboyant torso as they plucked a scarlet spider-lily from it. They brought it up to their face and gave it a kiss as the divine thing started to glow. They gave it a blow, their chest swelled, and it dissipated into the air around them. They grasped one of the rosy orbs that came from it with their finger, pinched it for a moment, then let it go. Passionately, it floated with the others and drifted into the wind. Perhaps, never meant to be seen by any again.

“Quite beautiful, is it not, young Mari? Life does indeed have a wonderful way of showing itself in such mysterious terms. You can only begin to genuinely appreciate the value of it when it is gone, when it disappears from your very sight.” They sighed and glanced forwards to the field, softness in their tone.

She could agree with that statement. It was such a lesson she, fortunately, did not have to learn the harsher way. She was incredibly lucky in that regard, compared to most.

“It is.”

She shifted her view to an alluring butterfly that had approached from the corners of her vision. Its wings were frozen, sapphire-like oceans, the black tips to that likeness of her resting space with chalky specks of light. She could hear the delicate thumps of its flight, unrestrained to the pain of living. It was this that made her wish to be able to be such an insect, for even a minute. To be lifted from it all.

A question had begun to pull at her, one that could not be ignored at that sudden time. She had not any indication that this was somewhere familiar to her. This area was not a place she had been except for that present period. It was an unknown. But, as Mari took another drink of the calming liquid, she figured she could always ask the skeletal person in front of them. In a polite manner, of course. It would be shameful to not do so otherwise.

“Excuse me, Luc, thank you for the tea, again, but I’m having a hard time understanding where we are. Do you know, by any chance?” She questioned as a tinge of embarrassment graced itself atop her cheeks.

Gleefully, as if they were waiting for this for quite a while, they chuckled as their sockets ever so slightly enlarged, “I so very welcome you to my humble home afar from home, if you will. The Fields of Rest, as I had often called it. Been here since I was a younger one. Not much unlike yourself, Mari.”

The Fields of Rest. Befitting for such a wonderful field of flowers, of illusions, she supposed. Though it did not quite match the sereneness that was the void, it was still glorious in its appeal. If not for the ever-constant persistence of longing that suppressed her, she could have awaited the endless passage of eternity here with Luc. She could have been here for as long as she happened to exist. A perfect existence in a plane few could not begin to imagine. Days would have been spent relaxing in the stems, playing with the animals that took residence in this unending glade, and speaking with Luc on all topics of knowledge. However, that would not have been a true life to her, would it? She would have been alleviated from all the chains that compressed her into an inch of her very being. Perhaps, all her needs would have been met within the very instance they were required. But it would have been quite a sheltered way to be alive. She would not have ever been truly living. It would have been a dream-like figment of delusion, not reality. Her dilemmas, she would never be able to outpace them. They would come to her, give her trouble, once more. The truth of being a person, though one of agony, would prevail. No one would be able to grow past it in any other circumstances.

Where she was once before, the abyss, was wondrous. However, she never felt human there. As though she were a true mortal, in control of what she was to do. It was predetermined and never differed when she drifted, her fate spun into a singular, unbent line. She would drown in the inky tides, coherency lost, when it came down to the finality of silence. That was what made choice a thing of importance in this place. The string wouldn’t bind her down, only was it herself that could do so. Limits set only by her own doing. That was her will.

“I sense a change in you, dear. As much as many like to remain here, they must go at a certain point. You cannot endure long in this place, sadly. But that is not what you seek, yes? Young Mari, you are quite unique. I have seen your type quite a bit over my old years, however it has been much harder to come across with children as young as you. You must leave soon, sometime quite soon. And I do think you are ready to do so. You know of that, yes?” Luc said as they turned to her, a rueful smile had eclipsed their features.

“I must get you to understand, child. The path you must go upon will be filled with distress, with utter sorrow. However, with all the pain that will come within this path, rewards you will reap. There will exist temptation, such as here, that will inhibit you from obtaining your destiny. However, if you were to tap into your strength, you will persist. You must not succumb. I hold you in high regard, Mari. Follow the melody, and you will find what you are looking for. A seed cannot be a flower in the mere hours of a twilight. I am not ever far; we will meet again in those dreams of yours. Good wishes on your journey, young one.”

Luc stood up regally despite their sprawled cloak and brought Mari to the edge of the wooden dome, where all begun to part, their bare hand encompassed around her wrist. As they gifted her a little nod, her feet touched the grass-bed. Warmed against the Sun, a stray draft whipped it around. It formed a few patterns of rolling hills, and the orchids swayed with nature’s song. They followed the beat in unison, united by roots under the surface. She was connected to these miracles of creation, just as the Moon was to be connected with the horizon. The egrets bloomed together under Mother Nature’s care, just as she did. There were restraints, challenges, however their growth never ceased. They flourished despite the circumstances. A celebration of significance they appeared to be, they showed what could be done with some awaiting of the future.

Twirl she did around the plants as she gave Luc one final wave goodbye, acknowledged with a slight upturn of their head once more. This lone area was not as lonely as she thought it to be, as she never wished it to be. Her never-ending quest to the forest had begun. Whispers echoed throughout the outside, as if the little flowers had started to speak with Mari; perhaps to lead her to the secluded wood. It gave a holy-like hue of sound. Her stride, light-footed as she flew with the gentle waltz upon her lips, was effortless. A hum escaped her, her tune beautiful against the gust.

She had always been oh so very pleased by the littlest of things, of details, getting caught up in them quite often. This splendid day was no exception to any of that. Was it without its flaws? Not quite. All had flaws, though she wished she hadn’t had any herself. It was unfortunate, the miniscule dents in the leaves, the smallest of bites in the petals. Though, the big picture is what mattered when it came to the grander scheme of things. It would be what most reminisced of, remembered.

All began to change to moss and scarce, alabaster plants; lush pines clouded the sky with their newly developed branches. She had started to spot an elk as it skipped around the glades, its charcoal hooves barely made a sound. The furry, tan coat their body was enclosed with, which would, without a singular doubt, be cozy against the biting frost yet to come. Majestic antlers spun around like a chandelier, tangled with flowers much like herself. They met eyes, beady against soft, and shared a quick insight into each’s history. A measly fawn to a mighty beast. One young sprout to an imperial valley lily. Both with struggle, with hardship, to be who they always had been deep within themselves.

As short as their interaction was, it fled just as swiftly; gracefully, it sprung over the brush and into a clearing. Just as if an invitation to follow, to lead her to where she was meant to be. Where it was that she would find. Finding what, she did not have any idea as to that.

The melody shifted into something more like the dawn of a new beginning; innocent and naïve, albeit with a tone of knowledge as she ran with it. A sense of security of mistakes never to be committed once again, or at least in a deliberate manner. Something to place reliance upon in periods of uncertainty.

The elk’s pace became brisker and brisker, the tempo accelerated as she followed with a bit of difficulty. It was steadily becoming common that she would have to pause to readjust to the uneven terrain. Robins, no longer the other birds she was so accustomed to hearing or being accompanied by their silence, sang harmoniously as the dark shadows above her sobbed. Clear teardrops dripped down onto her face as the race to keep up with the woodland creature grew harder with every waking moment. Her knee started to ache and buckle as it lost the energy from before, a hard-hitting surprise as she was forced to slow down despite her attempts. Increased pain she did feel, it took her more strength to go on.

Mortality, vulnerability. None of these were seen in the fields or the abyss. Pain did not exist there; the crisp did not exist. It made not an ounce of sense to her why it would be here that it was so very different. Maybe, was she going somewhere without the peace, the dependency, of these places? Of these worlds? It was the first instance in which she felt the deep pit in her stomach make itself known. Far too late to turn herself back at this point.

However, a swell of adventure escaped from her lungs. Despite her worries, and the lack of a proper plan, perhaps, everything would be alright. She could attempt to strive for the unreachable and be content with what it was she had. Embrace what it was that made life beautiful. Her loud laugh made it across the woods, echoed like a shout in a dense cavern. She felt alive. Fearful, yes, but alive.

Salty sweat dripped from her forehead, like moths climbing out of cocoons. Her eyes reflected brilliant sparks of light despite the sharp pang that shot through her leg; her face twisted into an ecstatic grin. The slow run turned into a bouncing sprint as adrenaline traveled into her veins, grappled through her bloodstream. It was relieving, this idea of freedom. There was torment and distress, however all of it was worthwhile for the chance of release from the shackles.

The forest shrouded around her, as if to prevent the leaving of this place. While remaining she would have liked to do, she heeded Luc’s previous words. A craving ravaged and thrashed in her bones to push her boundaries, push her physical limitations to whatever it was possible. If it was so she could follow, she could satisfy It. She could feel the disease climb her throat, choke it with the parasite. Tremors gave to light an abundance of shakes that racked her body, uncontrollable against the misery of the glacial downpour. The icy, bitter tears slapped her flushed cheeks, the freezing temperatures hellish, until it turned her fingertips a sickening light indigo.

She did not anticipate her slip as the deer-like creature leapt to the bottoms below.

Mud caked her feet and dress with filth as she slid down the mountainside, the bushes having done well in their disguising of the drop. Stones collided with her skin; small droplets of crimson intermixed with rainwater and stained the ground. Her hair had caught the many sticks that laid barren amidst the rubble, dead. Her face, decorated with thin, sticky lines and bruises galore. The appearance of hers was discarded with the mess she had become, as though she were a dirty handkerchief, abandoned.

Her anguish reached her mouth, busted and split with her fall into the depths. A screech of cords it became; violins strained in their crescendo; strings broke as the untuned notes damaged her ears. Kindly, holy keys turned offbeat; their deepest tones discordant against the wind. So much imperfection in one disoriented, broken harmony. No longer ‘twas it breathtaking, it fed into her utter terror. The affliction of this torture was unbearable. The hits she sustained were nothing against this agonizing sound.

Mari could sense it all come to a halt as she was in her deepest despair. Within a sudden moment, the noise had passed, disappearing as though it had never been there at all. The barrage of water had not yet slowed, but it fell peacefully in comparison to beforehand. Animals began to chatter with absolute enjoyment as the clouds dripped softly into the forest’s eclectic ecosystem, the silver patter of beauty they had become spread far and wide within its hold. Huddled amongst another for the slight tepidity of it. The smell of the rain’s aroma gave her new strength, to try to get up, to attempt to readjust.

She, after a bit of exertion to steady herself, stood with the grace of that of a duckling and stumbled, seeming as though a minor force could knock her over within a mere minute despite any resistance. Although, uncertainty she did feel at the thought that she had any left after such a tumble. Her arms, at her sides to ensure that if it was so that she did collapse once more nothing would come of it. As she did maintain her balance, with the smallest bit of difficulty in the task, she noticed the elk as it stared. Once, it seemed, she could walk, it carried on its path, she just close behind.

Their short expedition commenced. With the few, weight-filled steps it took to get her to the clearing, it took her by surprise the worth of it all. What the creature had led her to was spectacular, beyond whatever she could have dreamed of within the unfortunate shortcomings of her own mind.

A grand tree, encircled by royal-blue, jeweled butterflies as they flittered about the valley lilies on the bronze branches. It spread its limbs far and wide, as though it were welcoming all those who were to come within its sight. The buds sparkled in the rainfall like crystals from the deepest of caverns, crafted by the finest of magma. Petrichor wafted in the air, heavenly to those knowing of its smell.

What was unusual about this tree was what laid etched into its trunk, a strange door. To what it was it led to, she had not a coherent thought. Was it as magical as the world she had come upon? Perhaps, it was a piece of woodwork, unable to work and only there for others’ enjoyment. A door without an entrance. Yet, the curiosity seeped itself into her once more, to open. To know. The woodland animal paused as it came upon the vastly expansive plant, a sentence transferred between both she and it. She knew what it was she was meant to do as it quickly stepped aside, her fate.

It took her only a moment to reach the embedded object, but it was that moment that determined her decision. With a final breath, she grasped the knob, twisted it, and walked right through.

The duet began.

Chapter Text

A jasmine and honeysuckle aroma made its way into her nose as she fell. The hint of citrus intertwined with the music elegantly, comfortably.

“Mari!”

A warm presence engulfed her, like a fireplace in the snowy dusk. It felt nice.

“Are you all right?” A frantic, sweet voice echoed in her skull. Was she okay? Perhaps. She felt both well and pained at that moment, good and bad. There were many things to contemplate on, however, like her current state. She figured, with the probability of her less-than-pleasant descent, she did not look the greatest.

However, what did it truly mean to be all right? Was it to be sound in body and mind? Physically and mentally, or just one of these things? What was the difference between all right and fine? If she were to be fine externally, would it hold the same weight as being okay internally? She had not known, but would anyone?

“Mari?”

Ah, yes. Someone had asked her a question.

“I’m fine,” she hoarsely croaked as her mind floundered, her vision had just begun to clear. It was a fib, correct, however a justifiable one in her perspective.

A soft hand brushed against her scratched, damaged face splotched with red and blues. “You’re positively filthy.” they said sternly as consoling care still seeped through their words.

“I’m fine Mom,” Mari repeated with the recognition of the mysterious person now that her sight was unblurred by the lack of her vertigo. Her mother’s short, mousy figure with a soft, burning fire in her eyes. The way she held her hands, open. How she carried herself, head up but slightly scrunched in her form.

“Mari, one look at you says otherwise. Come, let’s tidy you up,” Her parental figure declared as she grasped her by the arm, gaze and determination unwavering as she pulled Mari through the halls.

Her clothes dripped with fresh droplets across the unpigmented, marble floor that spanned quite largely in comparison to herself, and the amber-tinged rugs that laid across them. Tall walls filled to the brim with white fleur-de-lis littered the massive hallway, pale, wooden pillars supporting it all. Crystalized, fanciful horns sprawled their enormous tines across the ceiling, oozed with clear jewels and diamonds held by tiny strings laced with silver. Statues of armor, encased in spotless mithril, stood by the sides of many massive landscapes, each enveloped with color as they silently took watch of the two. Shine shone through the clear metal; reflections of the ones who had worn the battle gear beforehand apparent despite the cleanliness. A palace.

They strolled down the long corridor as they passed by the several copper artifacts from centuries ago, entranced by each as they went past. Every object was traced with the finest of intricacies, of characteristics. It appeased her, how all was well. No imperfections, just a slightly disfigured reflection that stared back at her.

She took note of the blemishes on her skin as she felt it with her fingers, her lips and nose slightly upturned at one look at herself. Her unruly crown appeared to be in shambles as twigs and sticks twisted in her messy, stringy hair, her necklace entangled with weeds. An abundance of her features was caked with dirt and muck, her dress stained with the small, not quite a cliff side’s natural vegetation. Dirty stalks flew to the floor with her stride as they lay, disgruntled against the pristine environment.

They traveled amongst the walls of flowers after a few moments of wonderment at the profound halls until they reached a narrow staircase at the end of the passage. It was a tad bit musty, although not enough to make it seem like it had not been cleansed for a long while. Illuminated by the glow of the torchlight against the gray stone of the staircase, the way down seemed steady. Yet, she paused at the edge.

A pause, which was enough to convey her hesitance to her mother. Her frozen state, though it only lasted for a moment, was noticeable to anyone who had paid the least bit of attention.

“Come dear. Let us be calm. The stairs are nothing to be afraid of,” her smile, bright with everlasting shine, etched deep into her face.

She nodded. Fear was not something that could deter her for long. After all, she had no idea why she had hesitated at all. Though the terror still had its grasp on her, she could feel it slowly subside. She could not succumb to it. Persist.

She stepped down, her mother’s hold still firm on her arm, and inhaled deeply. All would be okay if her eyes were to remain firmly unopened. She let her vision come to a solid close, as if in a state of repose. Imagined she did that she was back within the void. An endless expanse of peace, of solidarity. Where nothing would be of harm to anyone.

As soon as they were at the top, they were at the bottom of the stairway. She barely felt a second pass, yet it was said and done in a faster fashion than anticipated. She heaved a sigh from her lungs, weight lifted from atop her chest. It was so that she turned out fine. She had not taken a misstep, nor fallen much to her luck.

A door, similar to the one she previously encountered, appeared as her eyelids were freed from the black. Arched curves with an iron doorknob, a stormy windowpane inscribed into it. Chiseled into its frame were depictions of fantastical animals. Pale horses with sharp, spiraled cones atop their head, beautiful, red-furred creatures with an abundance of tails as each swished and swayed, golden birds with wings aflame as they flew, and…something else.

She could not trace it to anything she had ever seen. It was strange. Peculiar, without a way of description. Some sort of beast, perhaps? It was different from all the others, wrong. Familiarity struck her; however, recognition would not seize her. Although, she did not get much time to ponder as she was tugged through the doorway. Mayhap, when she was to depart once more.

The room was quite orderly in comparison to how much in disarray she was. Entered they did into a small dining room, miniscule but cozy. It did not feel so expansive to the point where it was as if she were a tiny insect, however it was indeed sizable enough to find herself comfortable within the space. A candle, rimmed with aged, yellow wax rested atop the smooth, though worn kingwood table, surrounded by four chairs. Crafted by the most delicate of hands, despite their apparent years of use, they were made well as exquisite sitting places. Designs carved into their delicate backs of an echinopsis, a rose, and a cactus, all interwoven into one branded crest. She traced her finger over them as her mother walked over to the next room, intrigued.

A clock ticked in the corner of her vision, she noted, as it rested against the wall. Its silver hands moved along with every moment, a somewhat sized pinchbeck pendulum underneath it encased in a gray, glass cabinet. The object showcased the unending thing known to her as time. She could never have enough of it, yet it slipped through her fingers just as easily, like sand amongst an endless shore. One day, would it just end? As if it never existed at all? Would a new, different aspect of it be conceived? Perhaps, would one plus one no longer equal two, perhaps ten instead?

When she turned her head to fully look at it, it seemed as though it had not been there in the first place. Disappeared, perhaps, would be the right term.

“Mari, I’m so proud of you. Taking on this training ought not to be easy. However, you must get out of that dirty dress before then. We wouldn’t like it if you made a bad impression,” she stated as she came to Mari. A simple kiss on the head she was given as her mother went back to the previous room, presumably to fetch an outfit.

She gnawed upon her lip for a short second. She did not remember applying for any sort of training. What ever would it be for?

With precision, she took herself off the floor and dusted the filth from her sitting place off herself. Her mother appeared swiftly, flustered as she handed Mari soft, emerald cloth. “It’s of utmost importance you impress. You are to be the koto prodigy, channel that energy from what you had done beforehand. Oh, me and your father should have prepared you more.”

Her worry fed into Mari’s. A koto? She did not have any memories of playing a koto, much less any that she could do it well. Her eyes widened, unpleasantly perplexed. How would it be so that she was to be a koto prodigy if nothing except her mother indicated that? Could she not trust the depths of her own perception if it failed at such a thing as this? A koto mixed in with the piano and violin as they all created a tune, played childishly, but gracefully, as if it were a simple tune from a music box. A tone of fog came from the melody, albeit faintly against the chorus.

Was she not to trust herself with the remembrance of such significant things?

“I’ll return in a little while. Please, do make sure your brother is as fit as a fiddle before you do go. He was to be in your room, so there is where you should find him. The training arena should just be past the royal garden. Your koto will be awaiting you there, as will the prince. Mother loves you, honey!” She asserted as the abrupt nature of her wording became apparent in her rush. From atop a hanger Mari had not noticed she clutched a brown satchel, clinking as she did so.

“Alright, I will. Love you,” Mari smiled as she grasped the clothes tightly, the folds creased within her grip.

When her mother left, though it only felt like a moment had passed, her gut had begun to sink as if it were a sole anchor in the vast ocean, never to be seen by the likes of humankind once again. It rusted with the seas, turned into a barnacle-infested relic of what had been. Maybe, was it to be so that further within the confines of mortal innovation would it be recovered. As though it were a mere instance of confusion, with nothing yet everything to recall, that could not be explained within the simplest of terms. Losing its name and its purpose in the books of history; if there were to be any type of physical literature that would still hold its existence in such a world.

Her reluctance led way to the realization of having not but a clue on where to go. It was quite unfortunate. Though, she could try her best to find the arena, despite the lack of adequate information. She knew it to be past the regal garden at the very least, though that would not provide much to map from. It would prove to be much more of a hindrance later, she assumed. As of now, she had to ensure her little brother would be all right by himself without her or her mother’s guidance for a while.

The objective to find him went underway as she placed the clothing atop the table. It would be fairly easy. There were not to be many rooms in this living quarters, yes, however she had not been here before. To the best of her memory, anyhow. Although, she figured that was not a thing to rely on with the reveal of recent events and such. It was to be such a fickle thing. She knew of the fact that memory could change within even a day’s occurrence of the happening, yet it was something to be quite important within the bigger picture. Without recollection there would be constant mystification at all there was to see in this world, all there was to experience, however befuddlement at the situation would accompany it as well. Every few moments would be a new kind of rebirth, yet, in mere minutes, all would end and start over again.

The passage of seconds would not be perceived, but it would not be so much as a care, a thought. Would elation be obtainable for those with such a condition, or grief? Perhaps, would it be seen as a blessing? A curse? Beauty was to be in the eye of those who beheld it, after all. Maybe it was to be dependent on the perception. To see, to hear, to smell, to taste, to feel new sensations that seem familiar but not quite so. Not to understand what it is to be missing such things until was it so that you experienced such a loss of senses yourself once again. To not know what it is like to experience these such experiences until you got the chance, only to lose it all the same. The same routine repeated continuously for an eternity. Would it be a joyful existence? A grievous?

To ponder it for any longer would be an impediment to her quest. She must be swift if she wanted to achieve a nice, graceful arrival. This prince would, in the likeliest of situations, not appreciate such a late entrance.

She scoured each of the rooms, investigated until not was there anything left unturned. At long last, minutes into her search, she had reached the finality of her short albeit contemplative journey. The doorway lay bare against the mahogany of the walls as she approached, grasped the brass knob. Corners of the way between revealed slivers of silk, strings of a labor-filled art piece done to keep afloat. Arachnids climbed atop the highest summits only to realize mortality would come in a way unlike whatever their miniscule minds could comprehend. And, unfortunately, by only a thing of chance. Cobwebs kept an obscure reminder of what they were, what they had previously done, what work had been left behind to rot.

Swatted she did at the webs as they stuck to her hand. It was what must have been done. Her fist rapped against the wooden frame as a little tune came out of the rhythm. The violin grew stronger in its volume as she opened it, a melancholy song it shifted into. A sweet theme, with an underlying tremolo, strain.

“Little brother?” she asked as she made her gradual entrance. Peered she did across the somewhat tidy room; the mental note of cleansing it a bit came upon her. A desk, perhaps for the purpose of studies, remained firm within her vision as she looked across from it. The gray, monochrome bed was what had caught her attention; a large lump shown through the thin, cream sheets. A clump of ebony hair, a blackened sprout alongside it adorned on top the tip of it, popped into her view.

A small, quite miniscule in size, smile graced itself atop her face. He always had liked to sleep, did he not? She would have preferred to say goodbye, yes, however it was nice to know that insomnia was not yet a thing that plagued him, nor were there to be horrid nightmares any longer. That faint, shared memory of theirs reminded her of his grand imagination, which could be for better or for worse in total consideration of the situation.

Her steps swayed with each footfall, delicate against the planks of the floor. The best of efforts she did make to not disturb her resting brother as her feet fluttered against the cold of the ground. Reached she did to the door, closed it with a slow manner as it secluded the lone boy once again. Now was it of utmost importance to get herself clean. With the sludge that covered her very being, it was best to not let it dry and become crust against her skin. A pleasant feeling it did lack when that was what occurred.

She found a room, adjacent to the one beside it. Much would she rather wear this clothing than allow herself to wear such a filthy thing once more. To be in the presence of someone with such an important imperial status as well… She loved the gown; however, it was far beyond the period to retire it until she could get to tidying it up. There were quite a few rips within the seams, tears in-between the fabric, and some twine that hung, loose from its original place.

She took the cloth from atop the dining table, and as quick as it was for her to enter, it was the same amount of time it took her to leave. Her once clean clothing, grasped in her hands, was thrown into a little weaved, splint basket that rested just outside each individual room. It was another to do for later, she supposed.

She glanced at the mirror. It was the gold-spun thread that interlaced the cloth together, petite against her hands that traced over the sleeves interlaced with it. A chimerical dress she did wear, her open-shouldered sleeves poofy as her open skirt flowed with each step, a white hem beneath it all. The cloth of it all given buttons of brass, engraved with lilies as the open collar of a warm glit. Her feet, cradled by black ankle lace boots with the crest atop its side, allowed her to move freely, without restriction. Was it to be fit for such an occasion? An event?

It would have to do. She had not a speck of time to dawdle, much less search for another outfit. Now that Sunny was ensured to be fine on his own, she was to be on her way. To where the path would be, it was unclear. Only fate would be able to tell where she was to go, what it truly was that she was meant to do. How successful she may be.

She walked, pause by pause as hesitance constrained her very movements until was it so that the decision was made. It would be so that she would go through with this prior commitment and attempt her best. That was all she could do, unfortunately.

The once elegant crown and necklace of blossoms, of past passions, she placed down atop the tabletop yet again. It was beautiful, during a certain period. However, as much as she would’ve preferred to wear it, weeds as well as twigs galore, it was not to be correct nor appropriate for the current predicament. She would find the time to repair it at a later date, despite her desire to do so in the present.

She exited the small, almost house-like, cellar. The stairs would not be so much of a challenge as it were to be the first time with the considered factor of her going up them, rather than down. A spark of anxiety it did give her, yes, however it was nothing in comparison to her previous experience. She was to be fine; she knew. It would not be so that she would fall, not like the mountainside. She should not feel an ounce of despair or fear at such a thing; it would be quite silly to do so.

Took the last step she did, albeit a tad bit shook, and entered the hall. Hallways had always contained little secrets, the tiniest of pieces of stories held beneath the portraits that hung above the pale, not quite worn wallcovering. The flowers that remained on the walls told of the history of the royalty, of the ones who remained. Them who flourished underneath the bright waves of the Sun, remained unyielded against the difficulties and miracles of life. Yet, they could contain the worse of people worshipped erroneously as those who rose above. Those who, given praise, had done only that to which would be considered harmful otherwise. Despite that, they are seen as a standard, as a thing to look up upon. A mistaken ideal.

A window she came upon that seemed to mark the end of this corner of the hall that overlooked a canopy of vegetation, not unlike the one she had previously seen. A garden.

This garden was, most likely, the regal square of plants before the arena that her mother had mentioned. The question remained, however, as to how to reach it. She knew where it was to be now, yes, yet she had not had but a clue on how to navigate the palace, the expansive space of all things important to this place.

She would figure it out along the way.