Chapter 304 - Sleeping In
Kumin, Hasan Walled City.
In an estate on the prestigious nobility-occupied Sapphire Hill in the south side of the valley.
In a bright and inviting sitting room with large windows.
Cecil D’Ourange enjoyed a flaky Byran croissant alongside a morning coffee. He looked to the north, his emerald eyes glimmering as he rested his eyes on the red roof of an estate that sat on the far eastern side of Jade Hill.
The Reza estate.
He had long, curly blond hair and an androgynous face that was both handsome and beautiful. He wore a dark blue nobleman’s suit with a white frilled shirt. His royal blue half-cape was draped neatly on the back of the chair next to him. His long legs were crossed as he leaned back in his chair, sipping at his coffee contemplated in the peaceful surroundings.
Though he was alone he spoke softly to himself as if he were having a conversation. In between statements he would pause, listening quietly while nodding before stating his reply.
A servant boy arrived to check on him and top up his drink. Cecil nodded to the boy, noticing the weirded out expression that the boy failed to conceal.
When the boy left the room Cecil frowned, remarking with annoyance, “There it is again.”
“What?” A female voice transmitted into his mind.
“That look that I get whenever I talk with you.” He muttered, “People think I’m talking to myself like a crazy person.”
“You’re always worried about appearances.” The voice chided, “If you put as much effort in your duties as you do your fashion, think how much more progress we’d be making.”
Cecil sighed, twirling a long lock of his hair idly, “If you put as much effort into your divinations as you did into socializing, I wouldn’t have to be chasing down this trial.”
His quip was met with silence. Cecil could imagine his contact fuming quietly on her end, wherever she currently was— The accuracy of her divinations was a sore point in recent times. This bothered Soryana—and the whole order—greatly. It marked a change in the mechanisms of Fate, one which the Kismet Order had used with great accuracy and effect for centuries.
After all, what good was a title like “The Messenger” if her messages were all wrong? She had inherited the title from the previous Messenger who had had a spotless record in his two hundred years of life. Chosen by Fate, Soryana was young for a member of the order, not even twenty years old when she assumed her official role.
Soryana had been selected at a young age as a prodigy, but she was more than that— She was fated to greatness. Cecil couldn’t imagine the pressure that she must feel with every action she took.
Himself, on the other hand…
“I’ve been thinking.” Cecil said.
“You don’t have to think.” Soryana muttered from afar.
“Regardless—“ Cecil rolled his eyes, knowing that she couldn’t see him, “What if the prophecies aren’t accurate? What if something’s changed?”
“Blasphemy.”
“Your divinations stated we’d find the heart in Kumin. Instead we ended up with nothing.” Cecil replied.
“We did find the heart. The White Maiden has stolen it.” Soryana stated.
“That’s one way of twisting words.” Cecil muttered under his breath.
“The White Maiden is an enemy of Fate, Her interference has disrupted the Weave. But similarly, the prophecies have held true.” Soryana replied with characteristic zeal, “The God of Life failed His resurrection. The foundations of Lord Noga were shaken.”
“The Sun God’s heir shall return to His throne.” Cecil’s eyes glimmered darkly. He couldn’t argue with this logic— Though specific events had not occurred exactly as Soryana had divined, there was no reason to believe that the major prophecies would not hold up. “The guru-chi are moving on the shrine, as you divined. The second trial will begin shortly.”
“It’s already begun.” Soryana replied.
Cecil hid his surprise, “I thought we had a few weeks before the new moon?”
“The divination has… changed.” Soryana said with hesitation, acknowledging that her previous predictions had been inaccurate, “Something happened with the guru-chi, they’ve been incited to act sooner than expected.”
“I… see.” Cecil’s mind flashed to his encounter with Char Char in the square a few days previous.
“I can only read so much in the Weave.” Soryana thought a moment, adding, “Be wary of the White Maiden. I fear that She has had something to do with this.”
“Oh?” Cecil’s eyes flashed as he wondered if Soryana was testing him. In fact, he hadn’t revealed that he had fought with Char Char in the plaza a few days previous. His efforts to locate her and her entourage after had also resulted in failure— evidently his own rudimentary divination skills were not a match for whatever Char Char and her companions had at their disposal.
“If you see any of Her agents, let me know immediately.” Soryana said, “Any additional information will assist me in my divinations.”
Cecil didn’t reply, but his expression turned gloomy. He was glad that Soryana could only hear his spoken words with her abilities and not see him or his surroundings. His mind turned to a question that he had been mulling over for the past while.
What if— What if the White Maiden isn’t our enemy, but is part of the Prophecy?
He kept his thoughts to himself. Such a quip would not just aggravate Soryana—Something which had no problem with and even took pleasure in—But it would cause trouble with the other members of the order as well.
It wasn’t that Cecil doubted the prophecies, or that his faith was lacking. In his mind, these thoughts were consistent with his view of Akahi’s divine omnipotence. The Goddess of Fate surely would have divined the appearance of this White Maiden, no?
However the other members of the order saw things differently. The White Maiden was an enemy of the Kismet Order. The White Maiden was a power which threatened to throw the Fate of the world out of balance. Dealing with such entities was one of the main tasks of the order.
“We are coming upon an age of unrest and chaos.” Soryana said, “The powers that hindered us will fall. The Dark Era will end and the next era will be heralded by Akahi’s return. We are the Chosen shepherds, tasked with leading the world into the new age.”
“We are the Chosen.” Cecil replied with reverence.
“The Weave places you at the location of the trial today.” Soryana concluded their conversation, “But there’s something strange about it… Take care.”
Cecil took a final sip of his coffee as he stood up. He grabbed his half cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders, checking himself in a mirror before heading out the door.
The servant boy jumped with surprise as Cecil exited into the hall, apparently eavesdropping on Cecil’s ‘conversation’ with himself. Cecil eyed the boy coldly with a frown, considering whether to report the behaviour to the head servant. He shook his head as he decided not to push the topic.
“Call the carriage for me.” He said, “I’ll be visiting the Reza estate.”
~
The late morning sun rose over the walled Reza estate, shining its rays across the old, rust-red shingles and white stone walls. It shone through round windows with carved wood framing that formed elegant patterns around the edges of the windows.
In one of the guest rooms, Char Char was fast asleep in a luxurious bed. She stirred in her sleep, stretching out beneath the plush comforter as she hugged a down feather pillow close to her chest.
In her waking reverie she thought about how long it had been since she’d actually slept in a comfortable bed. And ever since she’d taken up the role of ‘Corbin’s body guard’ she’d been getting up at the break of dawn, so sleeping in was also now a rare luxury.
Her eyes flickered open as her brain registered the thought. She sat up with a start, her long hair draped messily around her shoulders. She looked out the window to see that the sun was high above the horizon.
She’d slept in!? Why hadn’t anyone woken her?
She jumped out of bed, rushing over to the wardrobe and throwing its doors open. On one side the guest robes were hung up, on the other her guard uniform. She paused briefly before grabbing the uniform, tossing the shirt, jacket and belt on the bed as she threw on the pants.
Her mind whirred as she recalled the events of the previous night.
The meal which Char Char had been invited to had been interrupted by one of the servants accidentally dropping a large portion of the meal on the floor, scattering shattered porcelain and food everywhere. After that, everything seemed to go wrong.
The chef nearly sliced off his finger as he rushed to fix up a replacement meal. Then his replacement burned his hand on the wok, scalding half his arm with hot oil. Master Reza alternated between profuse apologies toward his guests and furious scoldings at his staff for the poor hospitality.
Food eventually was served, but the sun had already long set by that time. The original plan was a simple dinner invitation for Corbin with him returning to Plunes for the evening. But rather than send his guests away at such a late hour, Master Reza prepared guest rooms for each of them and promised better hospitality in the morning.
For Char Char who wanted to continue her search for the White Maiden’s shrine, this was more than acceptable.
That’s right. Char Char thought as she finished dressing. Everything started going wrong after Old Man Reza suggested we search for the White Maiden’s shrine in the old servant’s quarters.
The dropped plates had interrupted that particular conversation topic. Afterwards Char Char had been so wrapped up in polite conversation with their hosts that she hadn’t even thought of bringing up the topic again.
No— It wasn’t that… Every time me or Corbin tried to bring up the shrine, something else happened, like spilling tea over the table… Char Char frowned as she grew extremely suspicious of the series of unfortunate accidents.
Someone was trying to stop them from finding the shrine.
Char Char tied her hair into a ponytail as she burst out the door of her room, stepping out into the exterior corridor. The green grass and manicured trees in the inner courtyard of the guest complex was peaceful, with no one in sight.
Firuzeh was in the next room over, and she was a particularly early riser. Why hadn’t Firuzeh woken her earlier?
Char Char knocked on Firuzeh’s door, quietly at first then a bit more forcefully. When there was no response she tried the handle and opened the unlocked door.
An empty, clean guest room greeted her. The moment she stepped inside a chilling feeling passed through her body as she felt that something was not right. She scanned the room without lingering and rushed out, following the walkway around the square complex to the other side of the hall where Corbin’s room was. His room was empty as well.
She briefly thought about looking for Kai but recalled that the Cheater pathway Exalted hadn’t returned last night.
Char Char’s fists clenched at her side as she felt something was very wrong. She stepped back out into the exterior hallway, noticing how quiet the estate was. Throughout the previous day and evening there were plenty of servants tending to the estate and standing at the ready to assist their guests. This morning it was dead silent.
Let’s not jump to conclusions… Char Char frowned. Maybe they’re all having breakfast without me… Every single one of them. In complete silence.
The estate was arranged in a grid, each square containing an internal outside plaza or garden, surrounded by an exterior wooden walkway which led into the rooms of each square that faced the courtyard. The dining hall was in the adjacent ‘square’ of the complex, next to the square which held the guest rooms.
An open, doorless hall connected the two squares. Char Char walked briskly through the hall, passing under hanging ornamental talismans and silent silver chimes. The heavy footsteps of her boots on the wood flooring resounded loudly in the dead silence.
She made her way to the dining hall, seeing the familiar tables and chairs that had been neatly arranged, the mess of the previous night long cleaned up.
She peeked into the kitchen, wandering through the pantry to the secondary dining room.
All was still and silent and in perfect order.
“Does this mean I could have slept in longer and no one would have noticed?” Char Char mused.
Char Char made her way back out to the inner courtyard with a troubled look on her face. She was at a loss of what to do, or what could have happened. Her sixth sense didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, but that in itself felt significantly out of place in this extraordinary circumstance.
If there was trouble during the night, Char Char surely would have been woken by her spiritual intuition. Even if she hadn’t, Firuzeh was next door and would have immediately come over, right?
It was as if something had magically whisked everyone away leaving only Char Char behind. Or perhaps this was a very realistic, strangely lucid dream.
Though her surroundings were peaceful Char Char’s body was tense. The world of mysticism was strange and vast. There could be any number of explanations for the situation she was in at the moment, and the most important thing was understanding the fundamental nature of the powers at play.
What did Firuzeh say about preparing for ambushes? Char Char recalled her teachings. The number one thing is to avoid stepping in the trap in the first place. Second, getting reliable information about the possible domains and pathways that could be encountered. Thirdly, preparing countermeasures…
“That’s all good before I get stuck in a trap, but what am I supposed to do right now?” Char Char scowled.
“No, think Char Char.” She shook her head, “There has to be a reason why I’m the only one here. What if something happened and everyone else was affected except me, making me their only hope?”
She paused as a second voice in her head protested against the fantasy-esque heroine setup. Her scowl deepened as she tried to think up a better explanation, scolding herself inwardly for her childishness.
“Maybe it’s the other way around. Everyone else is in the ‘normal’ world, and I’m trapped here until some rescues me… Like some sort of cliche princess capture story…”
She shuddered as both voices vehemently rejected that hypothesis.
“The reason doesn’t matter! Forget it!” She exclaimed. Her voice disturbed the peaceful surroundings for but a moment before the heavy silence settled in once more.
Nothing would happen if she stood around thinking. She needed to take action. Her eyes hardened as she determined her next move.
“I need my sword.”
She rushed back to her room and threw open her luggage. Hakuya’s sword was laying on top of the other contents. It was protected by a simple unadorned sheath made of lacquered wood. The natural light wood grain was smooth to a polish. Char Char had chosen the sheath for its simplicity, the plain and humble nature of it reminding her of its previous owner.
She lifted the sword out of the chest, feeling its weight as she firmly grasped the handle. The handle was long, made to be held by two hands and wrapped in a soft white cloth wrap. The cloth was worn and dark, wrapped tightly in an intricate pattern.
With a smooth practiced motion she drew the blade, holding it up in front of her. Her eyes focused on its mirror surface, admiring the subtle, milky waves on the metal that followed the cutting edge of the sword. She was very familiar with this sword by now, after hundreds of hours of practice. The weight and balance was perfect. It was a masterwork blade, worthy of its late owner.
“In hindsight, I should have grabbed this the moment I thought something was wrong.” Char Char muttered. Her voice quivered, betraying the nervousness that she had been suppressing within her.
The sword in her hand, too, was trembling, betraying the tension in her body.
“I’m not scared.” Char Char muttered, focusing her thoughts on the blade in front of her. “Whatever is happening, I can handle it.”
The image of the demonic god of life as he burst from Hakuya’s body flashed in her eyes. That lonely moment, standing in the eye of the storm-ridden typhoon with the solar eclipse above her painting the world red.
Char Char trickled a small amount of spiritual energy through her hand into the sword and the air along the edge began to shimmer. Her heartbeat slowed as she exhaled. The blade stopped trembling as she steeled her mind.
The sound of a muffled footstep prickled her hearing, causing Char Char to immediately stop channeling energy into the blade. Her eyes shot to the open door as she became completely still, not even daring to breathe.
I’m sure I didn’t imagine that. Char Char held the blade in front of her as she slowly, quietly walked out of the room.
A deathly silence hung over the complex. The air hung heavy and stagnant, sweating with humidity under the mid morning summer sun. The dark shadows of the roof-covered walkway contrasted with the glaringly bright open courtyard.
All was still.
There were no more footsteps, but Char Char’s spiritual intuition was sharp. She was certain that the sound had come from the rear gate, which was in the neighboring square, through the open hallway opposite the hall that led to the dining area.
Char Char hung her sheath at her waist, then gripped her sword firmly with both hands as she carefully advanced through the complex, holding the blade low to hide it better.
The west gate house came into view as she rounded the corner. The courtyard in this square was paved with light grey stone. Bright red shingles of a two tiered roof shimmered with the heat of the sun. Stone steps led up to a covered departure area, where the silhouette of the gates could be seen in the deep shadow at the back.
The contrast of the shadowed area and the bright stone courtyard caused Char Char to have to squint, but there, standing in the shadows just under the gates, she could see the dark silhouette of a robed girl.
Even at a glance Char Char felt something was not right. The girl was standing in a subservient posture with her hands crossed over one another and held at her abdomen. She was looking straight ahead standing as still as a mannequin. Even after watching for a moment the girl did not stir.
Char Char contemplated her options for a moment before sheathing her sword, deciding it was best not to assume that the girl was hostile. Approaching with a naked blade would surely cause more trouble than it would potentially prevent.
Char Char walked out into the courtyard, feeling the heat of the sun as it shone down on her black and red uniform. She made her way to the center, keeping her eyes on the robed girl who did not even turn her head as Char Char came into view.
Char Char bit her lip uneasily. She had wanted to gauge the girl’s reaction and keep some distance between them to give her time to draw her sword in case something happened. She also considered the possibility of the girl being stranded and scared like her, and having the girl run up to her looking for help.
She hadn’t expected to receive no response at all. She almost felt like the girl really was a mannequin.
Char Char walked slowly up to the gatehouse, taking the three steps into the covered departure area slowly. As she stepped back into the shadow she stopped, allowing her eyes to adjust.
I recognize her. She’s the girl that called us back to the house last night. Char Char realized as she saw the girl’s features. But something is wrong with her.
The girl’s plain, youthful face was pale and emotionless. Her eyes were dull and glazed over, staring blankly straight ahead.
Char Char’s hands clenched into fists at her side as she worked up the courage to approach. She stepped forward, offering a nervous smile as she waved, “Hello, good morning…”
Even when she was two meters away the girl remained motionless. Char Char thought that she really might be a statue or mannequin. The silence was so complete that she could even hear her own heart pounding.
As she approached the robed girl Char Char became aware of a soft, arrhythmic ticking coming from the girl’s chest.
A mechanical heartbeat, the soft clicking of gears.
Char Char’s eyebrows knit together in concern as she took one more step forward, crossing an invisible line.
Her spiritual intuition flared as the robed girl suddenly looked straight at her and launched herself at Char Char with her hand outstretched like claws.
Chapter 304 - Sleeping In
Kumin, Hasan Walled City.
In an estate on the prestigious nobility-occupied Sapphire Hill in the south side of the valley.
In a bright and inviting sitting room with large windows.
Cecil D’Ourange enjoyed a flaky Byran croissant alongside a morning coffee. He looked to the north, his emerald eyes glimmering as he rested his eyes on the red roof of an estate that sat on the far eastern side of Jade Hill.
The Reza estate.
He had long, curly blond hair and an androgynous face that was both handsome and beautiful. He wore a dark blue nobleman’s suit with a white frilled shirt. His royal blue half-cape was draped neatly on the back of the chair next to him. His long legs were crossed as he leaned back in his chair, sipping at his coffee contemplated in the peaceful surroundings.
Though he was alone he spoke softly to himself as if he were having a conversation. In between statements he would pause, listening quietly while nodding before stating his reply.
A servant boy arrived to check on him and top up his drink. Cecil nodded to the boy, noticing the weirded out expression that the boy failed to conceal.
When the boy left the room Cecil frowned, remarking with annoyance, “There it is again.”
“What?” A female voice transmitted into his mind.
“That look that I get whenever I talk with you.” He muttered, “People think I’m talking to myself like a crazy person.”
“You’re always worried about appearances.” The voice chided, “If you put as much effort in your duties as you do your fashion, think how much more progress we’d be making.”
Cecil sighed, twirling a long lock of his hair idly, “If you put as much effort into your divinations as you did into socializing, I wouldn’t have to be chasing down this trial.”
His quip was met with silence. Cecil could imagine his contact fuming quietly on her end, wherever she currently was— The accuracy of her divinations was a sore point in recent times. This bothered Soryana—and the whole order—greatly. It marked a change in the mechanisms of Fate, one which the Kismet Order had used with great accuracy and effect for centuries.
After all, what good was a title like “The Messenger” if her messages were all wrong? She had inherited the title from the previous Messenger who had had a spotless record in his two hundred years of life. Chosen by Fate, Soryana was young for a member of the order, not even twenty years old when she assumed her official role.
Soryana had been selected at a young age as a prodigy, but she was more than that— She was fated to greatness. Cecil couldn’t imagine the pressure that she must feel with every action she took.
Himself, on the other hand…
“I’ve been thinking.” Cecil said.
“You don’t have to think.” Soryana muttered from afar.
“Regardless—“ Cecil rolled his eyes, knowing that she couldn’t see him, “What if the prophecies aren’t accurate? What if something’s changed?”
“Blasphemy.”
“Your divinations stated we’d find the heart in Kumin. Instead we ended up with nothing.” Cecil replied.
“We did find the heart. The White Maiden has stolen it.” Soryana stated.
“That’s one way of twisting words.” Cecil muttered under his breath.
“The White Maiden is an enemy of Fate, Her interference has disrupted the Weave. But similarly, the prophecies have held true.” Soryana replied with characteristic zeal, “The God of Life failed His resurrection. The foundations of Lord Noga were shaken.”
“The Sun God’s heir shall return to His throne.” Cecil’s eyes glimmered darkly. He couldn’t argue with this logic— Though specific events had not occurred exactly as Soryana had divined, there was no reason to believe that the major prophecies would not hold up. “The guru-chi are moving on the shrine, as you divined. The second trial will begin shortly.”
“It’s already begun.” Soryana replied.
Cecil hid his surprise, “I thought we had a few weeks before the new moon?”
“The divination has… changed.” Soryana said with hesitation, acknowledging that her previous predictions had been inaccurate, “Something happened with the guru-chi, they’ve been incited to act sooner than expected.”
“I… see.” Cecil’s mind flashed to his encounter with Char Char in the square a few days previous.
“I can only read so much in the Weave.” Soryana thought a moment, adding, “Be wary of the White Maiden. I fear that She has had something to do with this.”
“Oh?” Cecil’s eyes flashed as he wondered if Soryana was testing him. In fact, he hadn’t revealed that he had fought with Char Char in the plaza a few days previous. His efforts to locate her and her entourage after had also resulted in failure— evidently his own rudimentary divination skills were not a match for whatever Char Char and her companions had at their disposal.
“If you see any of Her agents, let me know immediately.” Soryana said, “Any additional information will assist me in my divinations.”
Cecil didn’t reply, but his expression turned gloomy. He was glad that Soryana could only hear his spoken words with her abilities and not see him or his surroundings. His mind turned to a question that he had been mulling over for the past while.
What if— What if the White Maiden isn’t our enemy, but is part of the Prophecy?
He kept his thoughts to himself. Such a quip would not just aggravate Soryana—Something which had no problem with and even took pleasure in—But it would cause trouble with the other members of the order as well.
It wasn’t that Cecil doubted the prophecies, or that his faith was lacking. In his mind, these thoughts were consistent with his view of Akahi’s divine omnipotence. The Goddess of Fate surely would have divined the appearance of this White Maiden, no?
However the other members of the order saw things differently. The White Maiden was an enemy of the Kismet Order. The White Maiden was a power which threatened to throw the Fate of the world out of balance. Dealing with such entities was one of the main tasks of the order.
“We are coming upon an age of unrest and chaos.” Soryana said, “The powers that hindered us will fall. The Dark Era will end and the next era will be heralded by Akahi’s return. We are the Chosen shepherds, tasked with leading the world into the new age.”
“We are the Chosen.” Cecil replied with reverence.
“The Weave places you at the location of the trial today.” Soryana concluded their conversation, “But there’s something strange about it… Take care.”
Cecil took a final sip of his coffee as he stood up. He grabbed his half cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders, checking himself in a mirror before heading out the door.
The servant boy jumped with surprise as Cecil exited into the hall, apparently eavesdropping on Cecil’s ‘conversation’ with himself. Cecil eyed the boy coldly with a frown, considering whether to report the behaviour to the head servant. He shook his head as he decided not to push the topic.
“Call the carriage for me.” He said, “I’ll be visiting the Reza estate.”
~
The late morning sun rose over the walled Reza estate, shining its rays across the old, rust-red shingles and white stone walls. It shone through round windows with carved wood framing that formed elegant patterns around the edges of the windows.
In one of the guest rooms, Char Char was fast asleep in a luxurious bed. She stirred in her sleep, stretching out beneath the plush comforter as she hugged a down feather pillow close to her chest.
In her waking reverie she thought about how long it had been since she’d actually slept in a comfortable bed. And ever since she’d taken up the role of ‘Corbin’s body guard’ she’d been getting up at the break of dawn, so sleeping in was also now a rare luxury.
Her eyes flickered open as her brain registered the thought. She sat up with a start, her long hair draped messily around her shoulders. She looked out the window to see that the sun was high above the horizon.
She’d slept in!? Why hadn’t anyone woken her?
She jumped out of bed, rushing over to the wardrobe and throwing its doors open. On one side the guest robes were hung up, on the other her guard uniform. She paused briefly before grabbing the uniform, tossing the shirt, jacket and belt on the bed as she threw on the pants.
Her mind whirred as she recalled the events of the previous night.
The meal which Char Char had been invited to had been interrupted by one of the servants accidentally dropping a large portion of the meal on the floor, scattering shattered porcelain and food everywhere. After that, everything seemed to go wrong.
The chef nearly sliced off his finger as he rushed to fix up a replacement meal. Then his replacement burned his hand on the wok, scalding half his arm with hot oil. Master Reza alternated between profuse apologies toward his guests and furious scoldings at his staff for the poor hospitality.
Food eventually was served, but the sun had already long set by that time. The original plan was a simple dinner invitation for Corbin with him returning to Plunes for the evening. But rather than send his guests away at such a late hour, Master Reza prepared guest rooms for each of them and promised better hospitality in the morning.
For Char Char who wanted to continue her search for the White Maiden’s shrine, this was more than acceptable.
That’s right. Char Char thought as she finished dressing. Everything started going wrong after Old Man Reza suggested we search for the White Maiden’s shrine in the old servant’s quarters.
The dropped plates had interrupted that particular conversation topic. Afterwards Char Char had been so wrapped up in polite conversation with their hosts that she hadn’t even thought of bringing up the topic again.
No— It wasn’t that… Every time me or Corbin tried to bring up the shrine, something else happened, like spilling tea over the table… Char Char frowned as she grew extremely suspicious of the series of unfortunate accidents.
Someone was trying to stop them from finding the shrine.
Char Char tied her hair into a ponytail as she burst out the door of her room, stepping out into the exterior corridor. The green grass and manicured trees in the inner courtyard of the guest complex was peaceful, with no one in sight.
Firuzeh was in the next room over, and she was a particularly early riser. Why hadn’t Firuzeh woken her earlier?
Char Char knocked on Firuzeh’s door, quietly at first then a bit more forcefully. When there was no response she tried the handle and opened the unlocked door.
An empty, clean guest room greeted her. The moment she stepped inside a chilling feeling passed through her body as she felt that something was not right. She scanned the room without lingering and rushed out, following the walkway around the square complex to the other side of the hall where Corbin’s room was. His room was empty as well.
She briefly thought about looking for Kai but recalled that the Cheater pathway Exalted hadn’t returned last night.
Char Char’s fists clenched at her side as she felt something was very wrong. She stepped back out into the exterior hallway, noticing how quiet the estate was. Throughout the previous day and evening there were plenty of servants tending to the estate and standing at the ready to assist their guests. This morning it was dead silent.
Let’s not jump to conclusions… Char Char frowned. Maybe they’re all having breakfast without me… Every single one of them. In complete silence.
The estate was arranged in a grid, each square containing an internal outside plaza or garden, surrounded by an exterior wooden walkway which led into the rooms of each square that faced the courtyard. The dining hall was in the adjacent ‘square’ of the complex, next to the square which held the guest rooms.
An open, doorless hall connected the two squares. Char Char walked briskly through the hall, passing under hanging ornamental talismans and silent silver chimes. The heavy footsteps of her boots on the wood flooring resounded loudly in the dead silence.
She made her way to the dining hall, seeing the familiar tables and chairs that had been neatly arranged, the mess of the previous night long cleaned up.
She peeked into the kitchen, wandering through the pantry to the secondary dining room.
All was still and silent and in perfect order.
“Does this mean I could have slept in longer and no one would have noticed?” Char Char mused.
Char Char made her way back out to the inner courtyard with a troubled look on her face. She was at a loss of what to do, or what could have happened. Her sixth sense didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, but that in itself felt significantly out of place in this extraordinary circumstance.
If there was trouble during the night, Char Char surely would have been woken by her spiritual intuition. Even if she hadn’t, Firuzeh was next door and would have immediately come over, right?
It was as if something had magically whisked everyone away leaving only Char Char behind. Or perhaps this was a very realistic, strangely lucid dream.
Though her surroundings were peaceful Char Char’s body was tense. The world of mysticism was strange and vast. There could be any number of explanations for the situation she was in at the moment, and the most important thing was understanding the fundamental nature of the powers at play.
What did Firuzeh say about preparing for ambushes? Char Char recalled her teachings. The number one thing is to avoid stepping in the trap in the first place. Second, getting reliable information about the possible domains and pathways that could be encountered. Thirdly, preparing countermeasures…
“That’s all good before I get stuck in a trap, but what am I supposed to do right now?” Char Char scowled.
“No, think Char Char.” She shook her head, “There has to be a reason why I’m the only one here. What if something happened and everyone else was affected except me, making me their only hope?”
She paused as a second voice in her head protested against the fantasy-esque heroine setup. Her scowl deepened as she tried to think up a better explanation, scolding herself inwardly for her childishness.
“Maybe it’s the other way around. Everyone else is in the ‘normal’ world, and I’m trapped here until some rescues me… Like some sort of cliche princess capture story…”
She shuddered as both voices vehemently rejected that hypothesis.
“The reason doesn’t matter! Forget it!” She exclaimed. Her voice disturbed the peaceful surroundings for but a moment before the heavy silence settled in once more.
Nothing would happen if she stood around thinking. She needed to take action. Her eyes hardened as she determined her next move.
“I need my sword.”
She rushed back to her room and threw open her luggage. Hakuya’s sword was laying on top of the other contents. It was protected by a simple unadorned sheath made of lacquered wood. The natural light wood grain was smooth to a polish. Char Char had chosen the sheath for its simplicity, the plain and humble nature of it reminding her of its previous owner.
She lifted the sword out of the chest, feeling its weight as she firmly grasped the handle. The handle was long, made to be held by two hands and wrapped in a soft white cloth wrap. The cloth was worn and dark, wrapped tightly in an intricate pattern.
With a smooth practiced motion she drew the blade, holding it up in front of her. Her eyes focused on its mirror surface, admiring the subtle, milky waves on the metal that followed the cutting edge of the sword. She was very familiar with this sword by now, after hundreds of hours of practice. The weight and balance was perfect. It was a masterwork blade, worthy of its late owner.
“In hindsight, I should have grabbed this the moment I thought something was wrong.” Char Char muttered. Her voice quivered, betraying the nervousness that she had been suppressing within her.
The sword in her hand, too, was trembling, betraying the tension in her body.
“I’m not scared.” Char Char muttered, focusing her thoughts on the blade in front of her. “Whatever is happening, I can handle it.”
The image of the demonic god of life as he burst from Hakuya’s body flashed in her eyes. That lonely moment, standing in the eye of the storm-ridden typhoon with the solar eclipse above her painting the world red.
Char Char trickled a small amount of spiritual energy through her hand into the sword and the air along the edge began to shimmer. Her heartbeat slowed as she exhaled. The blade stopped trembling as she steeled her mind.
The sound of a muffled footstep prickled her hearing, causing Char Char to immediately stop channeling energy into the blade. Her eyes shot to the open door as she became completely still, not even daring to breathe.
I’m sure I didn’t imagine that. Char Char held the blade in front of her as she slowly, quietly walked out of the room.
A deathly silence hung over the complex. The air hung heavy and stagnant, sweating with humidity under the mid morning summer sun. The dark shadows of the roof-covered walkway contrasted with the glaringly bright open courtyard.
All was still.
There were no more footsteps, but Char Char’s spiritual intuition was sharp. She was certain that the sound had come from the rear gate, which was in the neighboring square, through the open hallway opposite the hall that led to the dining area.
Char Char hung her sheath at her waist, then gripped her sword firmly with both hands as she carefully advanced through the complex, holding the blade low to hide it better.
The west gate house came into view as she rounded the corner. The courtyard in this square was paved with light grey stone. Bright red shingles of a two tiered roof shimmered with the heat of the sun. Stone steps led up to a covered departure area, where the silhouette of the gates could be seen in the deep shadow at the back.
The contrast of the shadowed area and the bright stone courtyard caused Char Char to have to squint, but there, standing in the shadows just under the gates, she could see the dark silhouette of a robed girl.
Even at a glance Char Char felt something was not right. The girl was standing in a subservient posture with her hands crossed over one another and held at her abdomen. She was looking straight ahead standing as still as a mannequin. Even after watching for a moment the girl did not stir.
Char Char contemplated her options for a moment before sheathing her sword, deciding it was best not to assume that the girl was hostile. Approaching with a naked blade would surely cause more trouble than it would potentially prevent.
Char Char walked out into the courtyard, feeling the heat of the sun as it shone down on her black and red uniform. She made her way to the center, keeping her eyes on the robed girl who did not even turn her head as Char Char came into view.
Char Char bit her lip uneasily. She had wanted to gauge the girl’s reaction and keep some distance between them to give her time to draw her sword in case something happened. She also considered the possibility of the girl being stranded and scared like her, and having the girl run up to her looking for help.
She hadn’t expected to receive no response at all. She almost felt like the girl really was a mannequin.
Char Char walked slowly up to the gatehouse, taking the three steps into the covered departure area slowly. As she stepped back into the shadow she stopped, allowing her eyes to adjust.
I recognize her. She’s the girl that called us back to the house last night. Char Char realized as she saw the girl’s features. But something is wrong with her.
The girl’s plain, youthful face was pale and emotionless. Her eyes were dull and glazed over, staring blankly straight ahead.
Char Char’s hands clenched into fists at her side as she worked up the courage to approach. She stepped forward, offering a nervous smile as she waved, “Hello, good morning…”
Even when she was two meters away the girl remained motionless. Char Char thought that she really might be a statue or mannequin. The silence was so complete that she could even hear her own heart pounding.
As she approached the robed girl Char Char became aware of a soft, arrhythmic ticking coming from the girl’s chest.
A mechanical heartbeat, the soft clicking of gears.
Char Char’s eyebrows knit together in concern as she took one more step forward, crossing an invisible line.
Her spiritual intuition flared as the robed girl suddenly looked straight at her and launched herself at Char Char with her hand outstretched like claws.
