Misao turns to Llewella, waiting on her pleasure.
"Hello, Misao," Llewella says. "I am Llewella, princess of Rebma and Amber, and I am the Regent of Rebma in Queen Celina's absence. Welcome to Rebma. This is a dry chamber where we can keep things like your Trump cards safe from water damage. The castle and and city are underwater."
Llewella eyes Misao's garments. She herself is wearing some body-hugging material that covers her lower torso, but her breasts are bare. "It seems that Corwin has prepared you for your visit here. How familiar are you with stories of Rebma?"
Misao bows. "I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko-dono, and of Xanadu, the child of Lucas, the son of Florimel, the daughter of Oberon. My name is Misao. I am well. I hope you are well. I humbly thank you for your welcome."
"You are welcome," Llewella says, "and thank you for your kind good wishes."
Misao smiles. "I am not at all familiar with Remba, but I have spent time underwater in Hikariguni. I hope that that experience will help me here." Misao pauses and then adds, "I spoke with Serena-jooo about walking the Pattern here and she said she would speak with you. I await your pleasure."
Misao bows again and waits for Llewella's response.
"She is still travelling," Llewella confirms. "But you are welcome, and I suspect I'll be better at preparing you for the Pattern than she would be. Celina's experience of the Pattern has been unhappy. What have you been told of the risks, Misao?"
Misao's face is serene, "I understand that I risk my life if I do so. I am willing to take that risk."
"Did Celina tell you that my daughter Khela, who was Celina's lover, died attempting the Pattern?" Llewella asks.
Misao's face doesn't react, but internally they are a bit shocked that anyone would expect a monarch who barely knows Misao would speak of something so personal, even if they are family. Instead, after a moment, all that they say is, "No, she did not."
"I'm surprised. Not that she didn't tell you the details, for all that they're no secret, but that she didn't tell you we have had a recent loss in our family on the Pattern. But I gather Corwin feels you're likely to survive, which may have made a difference in her thinking," Llewella's tone is not unkind, merely straightforward.
"Serena-jooo said that she felt that the Rebman Pattern has an affinity for women of risk. Perhaps that is also part of it."
She gestures around the room, which is, perhaps surprisingly, filled with books. "If you'd like to leave your cards here, they will be safe."
Misao sets their case down against the wall, out of the way, and bows, "I am at your disposal."
"Then let's make sure you have a good sleep and a good meal, and we will go down so you can essay the Pattern," Llewella says. She gestures to a door in the floor of the room that has a ring for lifting it. "We will go down and out.
"Have you eaten or drunk underwater before? There's a trick to it," Llewella explains, lifting the door. There are stairs down into the water, which stops just below the surface of the room.
"Not in this form," Misao replies and then follows Llewella out of the room, carefully following her lead.
Llewella descends the stairwell, not even pausing or hesitating as the water covers her head.
Misao follows suit.
However Misao finds themself feeling about the prospect of breathing in the water, they find it is light and breathable, just as if it were air. Things definitely float in it, cloth and hair being two chief examples that are immediately demonstrated. But there's no sense of drowning as it enters Misao's lungs and they are able to follow Llewella with no difficulty.
Misao pauses for a moment as the waters close over their head, trying to get used to the sensation. The closest they can relate to this moment is their transformation into a wani, but wani breathe through gills, not lungs. Breathing water that is like air is very disconcerting and Misao fights down the instinctive response to shift forms. After a few minutes, they bow apologetically to Llewella.
"I am sorry. This is all very new to me."
"You'll get used to it. You're doing fine," Llewella tells Misao.
Llewella leads Misao into the palace proper, which is full of long galleries held up by columns and the multistory courtyards they surround. The castle's inhabitants include many humans of different genders, though those Misao would identify as male seem to be mostly armed, usually with spears and tridents. Some of the other inhabitants are fish or swimming mammals like dolphins and porpoises. One octopoid or perhaps squidlike creature seems to be carrying small objects across a hall, perhaps to an unknown destination.
The aquatic creatures rivet Misao's attention as they continue to follow Llewella.
Another group, of which Misao sees only one, are large creatures with the upper torso, arms, and head of a human and the long back body and tail similar to a fish or perhaps a shark where the creature's legs would be. The upper body of this being would be that of a large man; with the lower body and tail, the creature is close to a dozen feet long. They are all wearing elaborate masks, no two alike.
Many of them look curiously if not always openly at Misao, but perhaps that is because they are with the Regent.
Misao is even more astonished by these beings, and actually stops for a minute to almost stare at them before remembering their manners. A slight blush of embarrassment appears on their cheeks as they turn away.
Llewella and Misao pass into what is clearly a more secure wing; there are spear-wielding guards at the entry. Inside this area, she leads Misao into a tall room with both surface-style chairs and sitting hammocks that float lazily in the room currents.
"Please sit, as you like," Llewella says, and folds herself into one of the sitting hammocks. "I'm sure you must have many questions if Celina prepared you at all for the Pattern, and more if she didn't."
Misao folds themselves into an almost-kneeling posture on the floor, facing Llewella.
"Tenno Heika... King Random as you call him... told us that it was a magic labyrinth that would be a mental and physical challenge. He said it could kill us. Serena-jooo said that it was important to hold myself True Family."
Misao pauses.
"I suppose my questions lie along the following lines: What preparation is needed to encounter the possibility of death? Is death not something we should always be prepared for? Or is there something more needed than the resolution to risk?"
"The Pattern will test you mentally and physically. Other than food and rest, as if for an intense athletic feat, there's no way to be properly prepared for it," Llewella explains. "Once you set foot on it, you must follow it to the end, which is in the center. There is a kind of pressure, which is hard to explain, that tries to grind you to a halt. You'll need all of your wisdom and persistence to drag yourself forward through the veils, of which there are three, or were when I walked it. There may be four now.
"At the same time, you will experience what you might think of as phantoms or hallucinations, fragments of your mind, almost. Your parents, loved ones, children you might have in the future. They will speak to you, question you, force you to consider everything you know about yourself.
"For instance, in places where you made a crucial choice, what it might have meant to choose differently. For someone like you, it may force changes of shape, or force you to feel what it might be like to live a life where you were bound to a single form." Llewella does not say these things unkindly, just as possibilities she's considered.
"All of this will be happening at the same time, and whatever is going on in your mind will also be trying to get you to stop or to step off the Pattern. A full stop or stepping off will be fatal. If you are not of the royal blood, descended from Dworkin and the Unicorn, you will perish. And even if you meet that criterion and continue, if you cannot withstand the trial, it will destroy you. Many of our family have faced it and survived it, as I have myself. But not all."
Misao follows Llewella's account attentively. At the end, they nod.
"What is at the end?" is their next question.
"The center. From there, you can project yourself anywhere you know of and wish to go. Simply visualize it and wish yourself there, as if it were a Trump," Llewella says. "It should be somewhere safe, because you'll need rest."
Misao nods again. "Is there anything else that I should know?"
Llewella looks at Misao, appraisingly. "There are probably a thousand things you should know, but relative to the Pattern, only a few things I can add. First, it is a highly personal experience. What I explained is common, but it may not be the same for you. That's why we don't over-prepare candidates. Second, do not allow yourself to bleed on the pattern. And lastly, if your shape allows you to be pregnant, it would be best to put this off entirely."
Misao blinks at that last one. "I... can arrange for my shape to be non-progenerative."
A beat, while they recover their poise. Then they bow deeply from the waist, touching their head and hands to the floor.
"Thank you, Yewera-ohime. I shall not trespass on your time any longer, unless you wish something of me, in which case, I am at your service."
Misao straightens back up and awaits Llewella's pleasure. If the conversation is over, they will retire to whatever chambers have been prepared for them to rest and prepare for the walk. If they have time, they will prepare sketches of Remba in whatever materials will work underwater, or else impress scenes on their mind for future sketching. They will be ready for the walk whenever they are called to do it.
Llewella leads Misao down the deep corridors and stairwells, swimming downward where appropriate, and at last they are far below the castle, past the guard station, and in front of a door of iron-bound blackened wood that looks as if it is utterly unmoved by water, currents, rust, or force. Llewella takes the key she brought down and turns it; her strength is surprising, given her form.
The door creaks open into a room that is lit from within by a great glowing tracery on the floor. Misao feels it resonate with their very existence. This thing is a part of them, somehow. They are not sure what that means, but it feels true.
"Behold, what our gracious King calls 'the thing in the basement'." Llewella lets them take it in.
"The starting point is over there," she points. "If you are at all unsure about your capabilities, you can decide to try later and we will leave. Once you start, you will either complete the Great Pattern or you will die." She’s very matter-of-fact about the possible outcomes.
The pattern, longer and wider than an arrow-flight from a legendary archer, is a vast tracery glowing on the floor, both inviting and forboding.
Misao has adjusted their shape to be non-reproductive and hydrodynamic, to make moving through the water easier. They stop just inside the door to the Pattern chamber, taking it all in, breathing it in, allowing the resonance to take over their being, centering themselves here in the center of Reality. Then they bow deeply to Llewella, and circle the Pattern to the starting point.
Before stepping on the Pattern, they kneel and bow, touching their head to the floor. "I am of Hikariguni, the child of Kimiko, and of Xanadu, the child of Lucas, the son of Florimel, the daughter of Oberon. I humbly ask your blessing on my blood."
They stand gracefully, take a deep, calming breath, and step forward onto the Pattern, focusing on the fire in their blood that is the fire of the Pattern. They are the same. Misao is the Pattern and the Pattern is Misao. Calm. Step. Focus. Calm. Step. Focus. Calm. Step. Focus.
The challenge, in the first few steps, is that there is so little resistance. It takes concentration to stay on the path, to maintain the focus on something as seemingly trivial as walking along a brightly glowing line on the ground. There were sparks, yes, but it was more about control than about strength. Misao thought the sparks were getting higer as they moved gracefully through the proscribed steps.
Resistance built up, slowly, and Misao worked her way along the glowing tracery, now pushing. The water that was like air made things more difficult. The resistance was only in the direction of her motion. It was like walking in water-that-is-like-water, and she was treading heavily along it it.
Misao notes that the more they push them, the stronger the resistance they encountered. The sparks are up to their knees.
"You are of Hikariguni." Says the voice of her mother, Kimiko. "But are you mature enough to be in a place such as this? Without your Father's guidance? How will you know what is right? Come home, child of Hikariguni. Return here in a decade or a century, when perhaps they have solved their war."
The resistance was strong now, as if Misao was pressing against not a light breeze but a torrent of water. It was hard to move and it was distracting her from the voice of her Mother.
Misao pushes forward. "Okaa-sama." "Haha-ue."
"How else am I to return home, save by this method? How else can I become mature enough to be what you need me to be? What Hikariguni needs me to be? I do this for you, Okaa-sama. I do this for Hikariguni."
Calm. Step. Focus. Calm. Step. Focus. Misao is the Pattern. The Pattern is Misao. Misao pushes forward.
Her Mother's voice fades as the struggle against the veil becomes harder. Somehow, without being seen or speaking, she makes it clear that Misao isn't going to be good enough, now or perhaps ever. But nothing more is said.
Misao fights the resistance, step by step. While it never lessens, they sense a change, as if they have passed through a veil and are walking a different harmonic. The sparks are to their waist now, and it is a mental exercise to see where the line must be based on where the sparks are in the air. It would be very easy to misstep, or to second guess themself and step incorrectly. The right steps are like a dance, and a dance that is written in them as clearly as it is written in the stone.
Past the veil, they know they belongs here, and is now proving their worth, skill, and ability.
"Well then, you did break through. I wasn't sure you were going to give up on that little shadow. Do you recall my advice that my ghost gave you in Paris?" Their father, this time, appears. Walking effortlessly beside them as if he's strolling across a park. He sounds like his uncles.
"Otoosan." Misao bows their head in greeting, but does not stop.
"You wanted me to know the rules and to know when to break the rules. Which implies also knowing when to keep to the rules. And to be my own person and choose my own path."
Misao smiles. "I believe you can see that I am following your advice as we speak, Otoosan."
Calm. Step. Focus. Calm. Step. Focus. Misao concentrates on the line before them, stepping carefully but never stopping. The Pattern is Misao. Misao is the Pattern.
"I always wanted you to transcend your origins, like a bird transcends their egg and doesn't give it another regard once the shell is cracked and they soar far beyond the shards. You are doing that. You've taken the first steps to becoming part of my world and leaving your mother's world behind for the trifling it is. I am proud of this choice. Being a part of the family makes you a player in the greatest game of all, Misao of Paris, Amber, and Xanadu."
Lucas's words reach Misao's ears, bringing pride into their heart, but Misao's focus is on the Pattern and they don’t respond.
The pattern presses back, pressure against them as they step, step, step through the intricate twists and turns. There is a grand curve, crossing the chamber hundreds of feet in a sweep around the long edge of the great design. It's tiring, both mentally and physically to press on, through the red sparks that seem to rise with every step, step step they take. The sparks rise above their waist and they can imagine that they will reach above their head before the ordeal ends.
Assuming it ever will.
Misao allows themselves to be submerged in the fire of the Pattern, just as they submerged themselves in the waters of Hikariguni, just as they submerged themselves in the light inside Notre Dame, just as they submerged themselves in the strange air-water of Rebma. The Pattern is Misao, Misao is the Pattern. They push forward, refusing to stop, refusing to be distracted. Calm. Step. Focus. Calm. Step. Focus.
"There's still hard work to do. You have to learn how to talk properly, you have to learn how to understand your cousins and uncles and aunts, you have to learn Amber politics, you have to learn how to use your siblings and how to gather information. I'm quite pleased that you chose to grow up and leave your mother in her little shrine of a shadow. It's for the best."
"Of course, Otoosan. I have to be the best at everything. I know that. Thank you for your blessing."
The pattern presses hard; they have reached another veil. The step forward is harder here, and it requires ever ounce of their concentration. Did Otoo-san really expect them to abandon Hikariguni? They could barely think due to the physical effort, but that was what he was saying. Was that their path? Was that what was expected of them?
Misao pushes these thoughts away as they push forward. Time enough for making those decisions once they are done here. The Pattern is all that there is in the world, in the universe. This is the path. This is the way. Misao is the Pattern. The Pattern is Misao. Calm. Focus. Step. Push. Calm. Focus. Step. Push.
The work is hard, is a way that a shapeshifter's work is seldom hard. Usually Misao can shift to a different form to make any task easier, but the resistance here is not merely physical. No matter what they do it just keeps getting harder, and the sparks reach up to their chest. They aren't sure if they are walking a path they see before them, placing their feet in the place of most resistance, or if their body somehow knows where to place the next step.
They are sure if they stop they will never move forward again. Step, step, turn, focus, push.
"I'll walk this one day soon," says the third spirit. Her new brother, Max. "You can help me. We need to avenge our Father's death. This is the power you have, and you should dedicate it to making our enemies pay." He is small, and Misao has been told that he is young. But he's got a great sense of injustice. "Don't let them tell you about this family, you have me, and our father is dead, and the only ones who are going to do something about it are us."
He stands in front of her, oblivious to the sparks. "You've got to help me, Misao."
"Otooto." Misao's smile and tone are warm, but they don't stop. "I wish to help you. And so I need to do this now. I will be here for you when it's your turn. And we will deal with Otoosan's death, when the time is right. That time is not now. You will learn, otooto. Patience is key."
Misao continues forward, intending to push Max out of their way if necessary.
The sparks rise higher than his head, but Misao still hears his voice. "No, listen, don't push me, you're gonna knock me off!" They feel the resistance mount. Is it the young page who is also their brother? Or just fighting the pattern? It takes all the willpower and energy they can muster to push through it.
It's unclear if they hear a yelp as they come through. The pressure doesn't relent, but the building is again the steady crescendo that suggests that they are past another veil. The water and the sparks are as one now, and they are walking by instinct and will. Step, step, step, turn, step, turn. They feel as if they have been going forever and must keep going forever.
There may be no past, no present, and no future, but there is Misao, a creature of will, pushing their body through the curves and twists of the pattern.
"I'm not really sure it has an 'end'," says the voice of the last pattern spirit. "I'm not really here, of course, because 'glub, glub, glub', but I can get away with it because I'm not really here. What was I saying? Oh yeah, the end. It's aspects or shadows of the same one, and we write them the same as they write us." Random is there, and the sparks don't seem to touch him. They move around him without interfering with him.
"But that's not what I came here to talk to you about. I'm gonna ask you about your future. If you finish this, and people have failed here before, you're going to qualify to be a force to be reckoned with in this family. If you choose to be. If you put in the work to be. If you try to be.
"So here's my question for you. Do you intend to do so? Because you can go back to your home and bolt the door. Can you face the indifference of a family that may be generally friendly towards you but honestly doesn't give a crap if you’re from Hikariguni or Hybrasil?
"Will you be able to make your way in a society of your equals who have no reference to anything about you except what you show them about who you are?"
Misao closes their eyes. The light is so strong. The questions are so hard. The demands are so much. The demands have always been so much. Do this. Be that. Conform. Never complain. Be the best.
Misao steps forward. "Why do you ask me this? Why should I have to choose? Why can't I be of both Hikariguni AND Xanadu. AND Amber. AND Rebma. Yes, I want to go home. Yes, I want to stay here. I want it all. Is it wrong to hope that I can have it all?"
Misao's voice is angry now. "You are right about one thing: you have no reference to anything about me. There has never BEEN anyone like me. So how can you judge me? How can you decide how hard I can work? Or what I will try for? You barely know me."
Misao's voice grows harsher as the inner pain starts to leak through. "I barely know myself. One moment I am one of two people in my world who has special powers. The next, I am KIDNAPPED by people who want to use me, and rescued only to discover that my powers are NOT special and my father is DEAD. How can I show you who I am until I KNOW who I am? How can I choose what I want until I KNOW what I want?"
"And how can I know ANYTHING about ANY of that, unless I finish this? How can I choose until I have a choice to make? How can I tell you what the ending of my story will be, when I'm here at the beginning? I just found out about all this, for Heaven's sake!"
Misao is angry. Very angry. And they use the anger to push forward, eyes still closed, pushing against the place of strongest resistance.
"Right now, right here, I choose to finish this. I CHOOSE. Deal with it."
"'Why do I ask?', you ask? I dunno, maybe I'm just a manifestation of some inner doubt or passing thought reflected and amplified through the pattern and anthropomorphized by you as some sort of idealized representation of your relationship to authority, to wit, being authority's nibling. Maybe your anger is at me, for not being what you expected and not keeping your father alive. Or did the prior veils also represent anger? You're the one who's talking to someone who isn't really here, so maybe this is for you to work through.
"Like you're working through the pattern. Maybe that's what you resent. That you have to do this difficult ritual to get the power to resist the kind of people who will kidnap you for who you could be. Anger is powerful, look at how it's pushed you to the edge. But it's also a weapon you hand your opponents.
"So, here's your choice. Choice 1, you're powerful enough, possibly fueled by anger, to get through the last veil right now. Choice 2, you're so angry that you misstep and step off the pattern, which at this point would be fatal. Choice C, you hesitate, trying to be precise while angry, and you can't push through the veil."
"I'm not asking anymore, I'm just here for the popcorn."
Misao takes a deep breath, fighting to calm themselves down. "So no matter what I choose, I choose wrong. But if all choices are wrong, then all are right. So it doesn't matter anyway. And whether you are real or not doesn't matter. Shiigata ga nai. I'm going to finish this now, Tenno Heika."
They push forward, like a sword blade, precise, no hesitation, cutting to the center, to the truth, to the end of all this.
"Catch you later, then," says the spirit or doppelgänger of the King. "Good night, sweet Princeling, I hope it's been enlightening and/or educational for you..."
Misao presses on, each step a triumph and each leading to a bigger hurdle, the King's words coincide with the hardest obstacle they have faced yet. It seems impossible, and yet, they press on.
Through! The last veil is behind them and they stagger to their knees and it takes all their remaining effort not to pass out from stress and exertion and sheer exhaustion.
They need to rest. But they can't rest here. The last inevitable step of this ordeal is departing it. They can order the pattern to take them anywhere. As soon as they catch their breath.
There's only one place Misao wants to go right now. The place that they promised themselves to go once they knew they could get back to Xanadu. The place that they need to be. The person they need to see. Home. Hikariguni. Mother. Kimiko-dono.
The pattern does her bidding, and it is as if they are shifting not their own form, but the form of everything else, until it resolves to their own room in their mother's palace. They notice the smell of the cherry blossoms outside their window, presaging an early spring.
They take a step and collapse upon the bed, and sleep comes immediately.
They wake, in their bed. It is some time after sunrise. The room seems bigger, as it did when they were a child, and has several examples of their art that they had not recalled upon the walls. Perhaps Mother posted them after they left.
They'll be waiting downstairs, they know, somehow.
Misao rises, readies themselves for the day, which includes returning to their default form and dress, and heads downstairs.
It feels as if there are a thousand steps to climb down, and the spirits and attendants are mostly ignoring them as they take head down.
Their mother is in the jade room. Her form is shifted and she seems about ten feet tall, but not out of proportion for the room.
"Come in Misao, and present yourself to your exalted father."
Father's visits were always unannounced, but always special. Lessons were dispensed with and the routine of the palace was disrupted.
"Hello, child. Come to me." Ooto-san was dressed in his foreign clothes. He looked remarkably like his brother, Prince Bleys.
Misao enters the room and bows precisely, kneeling and touching their forehead to the floor, and then rising to a kneeling position. Their outward demeanor is calm and serene, as it must be, but inside they are full of confusion. Otoosan is dead. He cannot be here. So this is not Hikariguni. Or it is some trick. Perhaps they did not make it through the ordeal after all and this is the afterlife of spirits?
Unable to explain what they are seeing, Misao keeps their eyes focused on their mother. Therein, they feel, lies the answer to the riddle.
Her voice floats down from her head far above Misao. "Do you remember what I told you, child? It is important to know who you are and where you belong. You are a creature of Hikariguni."
Ooto-san slightly shook his head, reacting her position, or at least deflecting it. "Oh, Kim. Children grow, and sometimes you find that they were a creature of Hikariguni. Not everyone lives their entire lives encased in Amber."
Misao doesn't remember them ever disagreeing before.
Misao bows from the waist slightly to their mother. "With greatest respect, I agree. I must know where I belong, and I will always belong to Hikariguni."
They turn slightly and bow for the waist towards their father. "With greatest respect, I agree. I do not belong to Hikariguni only."
Turning to face forward again, they conclude, "With greatest respect, I have always been and will always be a creature of Hikariguni. But I am also a creature of Xanadu, Paris, and Remba. I will find where I belong. In the meantime, I am here, and I am well."
Neither of their parents seem pleased with that answer. Kimiko replies first. "I am here to give you your place, child. If you reject it, you risk not being able to come back. Or worse being able to come back and not be of Hikariguni any more."
Misao nods. "I understand the risk, Okaa-sama. But I have learned that I cannot fill your place, that I cannot serve Hikariguni as I should, if I do not do this. I have learned abilities and cultivated powers here, and now I must learn abilities and cultivate powers elsewhere. Otherwise, I am not fit for the place you would give me."
Lucas nods. "That would be acceptable. This place is inadequate to one of my family. They need a larger stage, free from the threats of a single shadow. Not the least of which is the threat of being bored to death."
Their parents have never, to their memory, disagreed in front of them. Or not in a way they recognized.
Lucas tries next. "What do you think it means, to anyone else, that you are of Hikariguni?"
Misao blinks in surprise. "It is one half of my heritage. I cannot be the person I am without the abilities I have learned, or the powers that I cultivated here. Whatever I become must build on that foundation, no matter what else happens. I will not -- CANNOT -- deny that, because to do so would be to deny myself."
They turn back to their mother. "This is also why I must go. I will not -- CANNOT -- deny the abilities and powers that come from Otoosan anymore than I can deny the ones from here. They are also half of my heritage. So I must go, but I will return... and I will trust that Hikariguni will be here when I do. This is the choice I have made."
They bow deeply from the waist again, to both parents.
When they recover from their bow, their parents are gone. Where Lucas was is a tangled line, like yarn after a cat has been playing with it. It achingly reminds her of the pattern, but it doesn't seem to be useful for anything. Where Kimiko was there is an eggshell, cracked open and empty. The fragments of the shell are neatly arranged around it, ordered by size. The inside of the egg is elaborately painted with a map of Hikarigani, which is damaged by the egg being broken.
Misao gently gathers up the yarn and pieces of shell, and wraps them carefully in a piece of silk they pull from within their robes. They stand up and look around.
Misao looks around and notices things that they haven't noticed before. The sky seems to be cracked, and there's a piece missing out of it. They could climb out through the hole. Everywhere they move, it seems as if they are about to break something, and they are growing. They are almost big enough to touch the sky or reach the sky-hole.
Outside of Hikariguni, they see a reasonably prosaic bedroom.
Misao places the wrapped items back into their robes and shrugs.
"Shiigata ga nai."
Then they climb out through the hole.
Even though they have only stayed there a week, it's their bedroom in Xanadu that they step into. The eggshell is behind them, the pieces neatly arranged on the ground. It's not clear how they fit inside it, but it's small compared to the room. What's new are a dozen or more portraits of people they've met in Xanadu, all partially completed and all on easels in a circle. They see the King, and their father's Parisian wife, and Martin and Delta and Huon and Merlin the shapeshifter and Brita.
They don't remember painting these, but they are definitely the artist.
There's another Canvas, facing a mirror. It is completely blank.
Misao's expression is both puzzled and frustrated. Did the Pattern not do what it was supposed to? Is this still part of it? What do they have to do to get back to the REAL Hikariguni? Then they shrug again.
"Masumasu fushigi da." Curiouser and Curiouser.
And they step up to the portraits, examining each one carefully for clues. Maybe they will help Misao figure out what to do next.
The King's painting is expressive. They feel as if they (or whoever painted it) really captured what they saw in the man. They stare at it. He turns and looks back at them.
"Stranger than the past few weeks?"
Misao sighs. "Tenno Heika, what is strange anymore? I am a sponge that has been overwhelmed in strangeness. I just want to reassure my mother that I am still alive. What do I have to do to do that?"
Random smiles. "It never gets less strange, kiddo. We just get better at dealing with novelty. Speaking as a talking painting, have you considered painting her and talking to your painting?"
Misao blinks in surprise.
"No, Tenno Heika, I hadn't. I thought the canvas was for a self-portrait, as some sort of test."
Pause.
"Otoosan told me to not to try and paint Trumps of anyone else and now I know why....it could hurt her if I try. Also, I was strictly told to not paint a Trump of anyone without permission. Are you saying... that in this place, which is not really Xanadu... that it would work? Without hurting her?"
"I don't know Jack about Trumps, Babe. But if that's what Ootey said, that's what they said. I didn't say to paint a trump. I'm pretty sure I'm not a trump. I'm pretty sure I'm not really King of Xanadu, but I play him on this canvas."
From the next canvas over, Huon adds his own observation. "On the other hand, if you think you can paint a trump, you could paint a place and go there. One way or another you'd learn something."
Misao steps back, closes their eyes, and takes a series of deep breaths, trying to clear their mind.
Focus. Calm. All these too-strange figures, half-familiar, but not. Misao has been trying to make sense of them on their terms. But the terms make no sense. Like many of the yokai, they are elusive, changing, unpredictable. So, let Misao treat them as yokai. Use that unpredictability. Make that their strength.
Misao opens their eyes and moves to the blank canvas. They pick up brushes, testing them until they find one that feels right in their hand. Then dip it into the ink. Then they close their eyes again, emptying their mind. Without looking at the canvas, without plan, without thought, they draw. Unpredictable. Elusive. Ever-changing. They work until they feel that the drawing is finished.
Then they open their eyes again and confront their unpredictability.
Misao looks at the canvas, taking in the scene. Their bedroom, near dawn, with the light just starting to warm up the shoji screen on the eastern window. Their bed is not made and someone is lying it in, peacefully sleeping, but perhaps soon to awaken. They look as if they have been restless, and the bedclothes are dislodged.
It's themself, Misao, asleep.
Misao examines the image closely. Is it static or moving? Does the canvas feel cold, like a Trump would?
The canvas doesn't feel cold at first, and the image seems still, but then... it's like it has always been a cold, working trump. It's as if looking at it long enough transformed it into a trump. It's much less work than making a trump normally is, but Misao feels that they could go through it.
Misao studies the canvas for a long time. Then they turn and study their reflection in the mirror for another long stretch. Fear, desire, indecision move across their features as they regard each in turn. Finally, with a small shrug, they mutter "Shiigata ga nai."
They turn to the canvas, remove it from its easel, tuck it under their arm, and step into the mirror.
Misao approaches the mirror and her own image grows in it, soon it fills the frame and as they reach it and step through, they find no resistance. It's unexpected and they find themself falling. They twist and turn and they reach for purchase on anything, and there's nothing.
It is dark and they don't know where the ground is. They can't shift and they are falling. Just falling, alone in the dark.
Their body spasms, and they awaken, heart racing and covered in sweat, in their bed.
Early morning light is stealing into the room, and they are alone in their bedroom in Hikariguni.
Misao looks around, wildly at first, and then doubtfully as their racing heart slows. Where is the canvas? Was that real? Is this real?
"Only one way to find out."
They arise and neaten their appearance, and then, canvas under one arm (assuming it survived), they leave the room, looking for their mother.
Misao can't find the canvas. It seems to have been part of a dream and, like all the stuff of dreams, stops existing when they awaken.
Misao's appearance at the bottom of the stairs sets off a commotion amongst her mother's servitors. After some minutes of confusion and people running when they see Misao, the palace majordomo comes in.
She wants to know where Misao has been. Everyone has been worried. They've been gone for so long, it's unlike them to just disappear. Were they really kidnapped? Their mother has gone to look for them.
Misao makes appropriate soothing noises. Yes, they were kidnapped. Yes, they are now free. No, they were not injured. They also spend some time gently explaining that events have transpired that will require them to be away from Hikariguni for some time. Yes, they will return when they can. No, they don’t know when exactly that will be.
Misao also attempts to find out as much as possible about their mother's departure. How long ago was it? Where might she have gone to? How did she plan to travel?
Their mother's chamberlain of the palace speaks in low tones. "She went to the accursed cave in the northern islands." Misao has heard of it; it was where their mother had entered Hikariguni at the dawn of time.
They have never been there. No one goes there. It is too sacred. It would kill any person unfortunate or careless enough to enter it.
Once all of the talking is done, Misao enters Kimiko-dono's personal chambers. They are both thorough and careful. Everything is placed back precisely where it came from. Kimiko-dono should not be able to tell that anything was moved. Misao is looking for one item in particular: a tama-kanzashi, a hairpin with a sphere on the end. This one is made of gold and coral, and, unusually, the coral end is carved into the shape of a butterfly. It was a gift from Misao to Kimiko to celebrate their "coming out party", as it were, the occasion during which Kimiko-dono had presented Misao to the kami of Hikariguni as her heir.
Misao hopes that this object, so full of connection between their mother and themselves, will help them to locate their mother. Once they have found it, they thank the palace servants for their help, and begin to travel. Hardly knowing what they are doing, they blindly trust in the new powers granted by Otoosan's blood and the fire of the Pattern. Somehow, there must be a way to find their way to where Kimiko-dono is.
Misao does hesitate and give careful consideration to the risk, but decides to go anyway.
The cave is several days travel, but Misao is an expert traveller in their home shadow and the way is clear. They soon leaves the civilized parts of Hikariguni and only occasionally spots a spirit or animal along their path. They find the cave where it is rumored to be and finds the rock that was supposed to block the entrance has been moved.
There is an odd smell coming from the cave; it's acrid and unpleasant. As Misao approaches they feel a brief gust of wind from inside the cave. It's odd, because the wind is calm this day. Or at least it is outside the hills.
As they approach the cave, Misao extends their senses, trying to ascertain what is going on in the cave. Where is the path that will lead them to their mother? They proceed cautiously.
Misao extends their senses and isn't sure what they're experiencing. Fortunately, there isn't much to the cave. There are tracks. Foreign bootprints leaving the cave in the dust. Zori prints leading in. That was likely their mother. The tracks lead inward to a passage that looks different. It looks dangerous, and Misao thinks it leads to someplace that's not Hikariguni.
They presume that most of the people and beings she knows would think it was an entrance to one of the many hells. They think those may be descriptions of shadow, as their newfound family call it. Still, it's hard to see the difference between "The Hell of Noxious Winds" and "The Shadow of ...".
Looking at the entrance here, with its shifting lights and unclear destination, Misao knows she can make it safe for her own passage. This, then, is a part of the gift she has taken from the Pattern.
The wind and the smells grow stronger.
Misao closes their eyes, and taking a deep breath, sends a prayer to the spirits of the Earth and the spirits of the Heavens. Then they open their eyes and walk cautiously into the cave.
Misao steps into the cave and into the wind. It's dark, but not impossibly dark. Misao's eyes adjust and they can see the cave. It's shallow, and there's some sort of box or mechanical device in it, with a red light on it. There are footprints in the sand and the air smells of oil and water and rust.
The cave doesn't seem deep, and the box is connected to a pair of strings on the ground. It leads further into the cave. Or perhaps towards an exit. It's hard to tell from where they are.
Misao notes the box, but elects to not touch it, although they do keep an eye on it as they move through the space. They focus mainly on extending their new Pattern senses, trying to find the way that will lead them to Kimiko.
The path through the cave is that leads to the exit is the only way to go, so any traces that could be found would likely be in that direction.
Before heading further into the cave, Misao pauses for a moment. Although they relaxed their guard once they were home, it's reasonable to assume that they could be attacked, especially since they were kidnapped before. Best to be wary. They take a moment to shift their clothing from a formal mourning kimono to something like the outfit they wore escaping the hospital, but in black. Their hairstyle changes to a simple bun, less easy prey for an attacker to grab. They shift their tanto to a place where it is easier to access.
Then Misao cautiously proceeds, looking to the sides of the cave as they go, seeing if they can find something that can be used as a weapon with longer range than a dagger.
Misao can find a number of rocks, and even the odd stalagmite. They'd need to break it off and come up with a good way to grip it, but it's a long, pointy rock. It's not very sharp.
Misao elects to leave the rocks alone and look for something better further on.
Turning a bend in the cave, Misao comes abruptly to an opening into a cloudy, windy night scene. They are in hills, or perhaps low mountains, and the smell of oil and tar is strong here. Misao can't see the stars or the moon, if this place even has a moon. But the smells of this place are strong and unpleasant. The outside of the cave is behind a security fence, which has been vandalized. There's a building with some dim lighting nearby, as well as several dark ones. Far below, in a basin that these hills surround, is a sprawling, brilliantly lit, city. It's hard to make out any details, because even at night, the place seems to be encased in some sort of miasmic fog.
It's a pretty nasty looking place. Misao takes a minute to shift into the form of the kitsune, hoping that the kitsune's superior hearing will help them hear what's coming, since they can't see well. They examine the fence, still looking for a weapon. Regardless of the outcome, they will continue to look for the Shadow Path, and continue to cautiously advance.
It's remarkably silent here, other than the sound of the wind. No insects, no small animal noises, and the rustle of wind through the trees doesn't sound healthy. It's a long way to the city below, perhaps 20 miles to the core of it. At least it's downhill. There's no traffic on this road, but there seems to be plenty down below.
There's no sign of a shadow path here. The city below looks bigger than Paris, where their father is buried. It could have a million people in it. Finding where to start looking for Kimiko will be a challenge. Not seeing any other options, Misao heads towards the city, continuing to be cautious and watch out for other individuals, hoping to see or hear them before Misao is heard or seen. Kitsune are notoriously stealthy yokai and Misao is using all that they've learned in exploiting this trait.
The road down from the hills is deserted at this hour, or perhaps is always deserted. What few signs of people are here are empty. Misao gets the idea that people concentrated themselves in the city below. Kitsune's sharp nose finds the place almost overwhelming, but they quickly learn to filter it out.
Perhaps two miles from the cave, Misao comes across a trailer on a small plot of land separated from the rest of the desert. It doesn't look hospitable, but it does look to be inhabited. It's the first sign of life since they came into this stench-filled world.
As Misao approaches the trailer, they darken their fur to blend into the murky air of this Shadow. They use all the stealth of the kitsune to approach as quietly as possible and attempt to look in any windows before they approach the door.
Through a window, Misao quickly ascertains that there is single man and his dog inside. The man is sleeping in front of some kind of image projector. The dog is alert and hasn't started barking, but may be about to. It's picked up some scent, most likely Misao's Kitsune form.
The image projector is loud enough that most sounds wouldn't penetrate it. It's hard to understand how the man can sleep.
Misao takes a moment to revert to their normal form, in its more masculine aspect, keeping their clothes the same and altering their skin tone to be more like the man's. Making sure their dagger is easy to hand, they move around to the door, not attempting to be stealthy, and knock.
There's no answer. The door has a window with a shade, but it's only partially closed. It looks like someone has pulled it aside frequently enough that it's possible to look through the dirty glass in both directions.
The building isn't very tidy. The man is visible from the door as well. He may be unconscious. He's certainly not paying attention to the screen or the door or Misao.
Misao considers their options. Kitsune do not generally like dogs, after all, and although Misao does not currently wear the form of the kitsune, they have some of their prejudices. And if the man is not responding to the knock, it's not likely that he will be of much help.
They shrug and continue towards the town, such as it is, reverting to the form of the kitsune once they leave the house and keeping alert for any threats. They are also still looking for potential weapons.
The yard is full of potential weapons. Rusty crowbars, stones, something they could make into a sling. Nothing too sophisticated is immediately available.
After considering the available options, Misao collects some easily throwable stones and stows them in some convenient pockets, before picking up a crowbar.
There's a vehicle here, but it's not well-maintained. It might have something that can be used as a weapon. They can't tell how it's powered, but it seems to be mechanical.
Misao heads down the road, walking away from the house and the cave. It's a long walk to the city, and the weather is oppressively humid. The wind has hints of rain coming, but not coolness. Misao thinks it's going to be unpleasant and shortly it is; a warm rain whipping at them from the valley, pushing dirty water straight at them.
The slog leads to a sign which says "Tyrell City".
The city is vast, and the tendrils of it they reach first are commercial in nature; a place to buy transport and food, several industrial parks. The heart of the city is a half-lit pyramid of glass, miles from here. It is the most impressive building in the city.
Misao thinks this city may be even bigger than Xanadu.
If Misao had encountered Tyrell (which they mentally pronounce "Tee-reh-ru") before their kidnapping, it would no doubt have been an overwhelming and mind-blowing experience. As it is, being raised in a Shadow in which nature is respected and operates in harmony with the sentient inhabitants, it hurts them to see nature so abused here. However, having had a crash education as how different things can be in different Shadows, Misao is able to process what they see, with a little effort.
Abused Shadow or not, Misao recognizes the signs of a sacred place easily. In Hikariguni, it might have been marked by a red torii or a white tsuna. Here, it's a pyramid. Misao transforms back into a human, and heads for it.
The pyramid is the center of attention of the city, surrounded by large buildings that are tall and thin, it is tall and wide and also has open sky above it. At ground level it is surrounded by more fundamental commerce: noodle shops and cobblers' stalls, and all manner of small-scale signs of commercial activity.
As they approach, they see it is made of glass and metal and looks to be hundreds of feet tall. Entire villages could be inside it.
The sign says it is the hospital, and there is a door marked emergency that is filled with bustling people. There are less urgent entrances as well. No one much is paying attention to Misao.
Misao looks around for a Shadow path.
Misao finds no signs of a shadowpath, but it occurs to them that they can make a shadowpath, at least for themself. They can add or subtract things from the environment as they move and eventually they will be in Xanadu, Rebma, Paris, or wherever they want.
Walking the pattern unlocked this ability that was latent in their ancestry, although they have never tried it.
Misao will try that.
Last modified: 16 January 2024