Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A/N: This series is updated more frequently here.

"I serve one master, one household, one realm. Traveler, you would do well to remember that beyond the barrier, there is only subjugation. There is only war, and the cries of skirmishing crows, harbingers of unrelenting devastation. Within, there is only the land, and its many scions, residing in a peace tempered by years of conflict. And there is I, the humblest servant in our world, and hence the greatest it has ever known. I often tell those select few who are foolish - and headstrong - enough to enter, 'Don't take the tranquility of the forests at face value. Behind that veneer of serenity lies a greater danger, one that haunts the minds of the maidens tending to the only constants in this otherwise chaotic world: this Mansion, situated at the heart of it all.'"

She took a sip of her tea, glancing upwards at me as she did so. An angry gleam pierced my vision momentarily whilst she crossed her legs; she then leaned back to fully take in the latest, and very much mortal, addition to the Mansion's vast living room. The knives were still there, strapped to her thighs, as they had been for hundreds of years. Some things never changed.

"You're telling me this, and yet you know I've been here before," I started. But before I could continue, she put up a finger, and the look in her eyes hushed me without expectation of protest.

"Gensokyo changes every time the moonlight swirls in the purple mist. Every time the bamboo thickets rustle in the wind. Every time the halls of the Mansion fall victim to the flowering night." She nodded to herself, as if she had come to realize something she hadn't before. Which, knowing her, must be something truly remarkable indeed. "And every time my mistress ventures out into the realm, too."

"So, every day." I waved a hand impatiently. "Rhetoric won't help you patronize me, Miss Izayoi. Your time with Remilia Scarlet should have told you that much-"

What happened next was something I, as a mere human, could never have even begun to process. One moment, she was sitting there, teacup gracefully in her grasp, and the next there was a dagger at my throat, and perhaps fifteen - no, fifty, even - others hovering in a menacing star around my head. Sakuya herself was glaring down at me from high above, the look of a predator gazing upon its prey all but apparent on her otherwise beautiful features.

"I will not tolerate disrespectful mention of my mistress, traveler," she spat.

For the briefest of moments, I considered retorting. I could, after all, remove myself from my current predicament if I really wanted to. But, with the threat of death very real and very imminent, and my objectives as of yet unrealized, I kept my temper in check and, closing my eyes in resignation, I nodded. Seconds later, I felt the dagger very reluctantly retreat from its position beside my jugular. I heard the armchair opposite me rustle, allowing me to open my eyes again.

Her piety to her mistress has been steadfast and unwavering for so long, and yet if she knew... would she - or could she - continue to be so stubborn, so sure about herself, about this whole affair? And if Scarlet were allowed to do what she had always planned to do since arriving here - heaven knows how long ago that was - would Sakuya's loyalties remain unchanged? Or perhaps - just perhaps - Sakuya already knew, and she was simply biding her time, waiting for it all to come together, like pieces of a puzzle falling miraculously into each other, to form the picture that could turn the great wars of this realm into nothing but petty skirmishes in the face of such an impending disaster?

I took my teacup and drank slowly from it. It was bitter, but the leaves themselves withheld a quiet sweetness, and the essence of the tea granted me a soothing warmth in the cold, harsh climate of the empty mansion. I looked at Sakuya, who looked back quizzically, but with the same self-surety that was evident in everything she did. Deep down, I knew that I would do well to trust her, at least for the time being. Maybe there was hope for this world. We'd just have to wait and see, I guessed.

And just as the last vestiges of that final thought left my head, the giant doors behind me creaked open, the sound shooting fresh dread into my heart. "Speak of the devil" would be a phrase a touch more appropriate than any other in this case, I thought wryly as I stood, and turned the next page in my, insofar, rather unfortunate life.

How did all this come to pass?

Chapter Text

Beneath the quiet abode of Remilia Scarlet lay a structure to which full, unrestricted access was only granted to the privileged few. Such scholarly and intellectually curious individuals were far and few between, and so it was with the greatest luck that I was permitted to enter the hallowed halls of the Scarlet Devil Mansion's library, the single and most powerful authority on knowledge of the realm and its largely forsaken history.

Or so I was told, at least. I had apparently been found, cold and shivering, at the edge of the body of water known as Misty Lake, and had been brought into the antechamber of the Mansion after some apprehension on the part of the the master of this household, a young vampire girl in a frilly pink dress by the name of Remilia Scarlet. However, my memories of my meeting with her were fuzzy - a result, I assumed, of the strong magic that reverberated throughout the interior of the Mansion.

My mind was otherwise like a blank slate, largely devoid of any clear memories prior to those I had just formed, and though I had maintained my basic cognitive functions and some recollections of the outside world remained, I was completely at the mercy of whomever had the misfortune of hosting me at the time. Ultimately, only after I had finished my cup of tea, a strange, bitter brew that carried an aftertaste reminiscent of the taste of iron, was I allowed to wander the halls, so long as I did not enter any of the more heavily-guarded rooms. Which led me, inexorably, here.

My guide and the host of this splendid place, the enigmatic Patchouli Knowledge, glided along the wooden floor, her steps leaving swirling echoes of tempered magic in their wake. The boards were old, having withstood the various burdens and tests of time, and yet they held my weight well. Perhaps it was the low hum of ethereal power coursing through the tall alleys and corridors of the library that preserved it in such a static, unchanging state. Or perhaps it was simply that I was the only person, aside from Patchouli and her diminutive assistant, Koakuma, who had passed over this particular section of the library, even in all its long, perennial existence.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" asked Patchouli as she pattered in and out of the shelves, with me trailing in her wake. "Like a grimoire of earthen spells, or some tome of history? Or," she paused, and turned to glance at me cautiously, "something even beyond that?"

I shrugged. "I will take whatever you are willing to offer, librarian."

Patchouli allowed herself a small smile. "Such humility. Very well, you will see what it is that we hide from the eyes of the ever-inquisitive world."

"I was not aware that you hid any such things in here."

"Come now, traveler." Patchouli mocked stifling a yawn, or at least, that was what it seemed like to me. "You are here in the greatest resource our land has and will ever know, and you assume that the place is safe enough for even the deadliest of Gensokyo's secrets to simply be lying around, free to be procured and produced at expense of the world? Don't look so scared, now," - she had seen the look of surprise that appeared on my face following her words - "we keep everything tightly under wraps. Here we are."

The process that followed was too complicated for me to reproduce in words - or it's entirely possible, too, that some kind of silent amnesiac had been cast upon me throughout - but when all the intricacies were done with, I found myself at the foot of a set of stairs even older than those of the main entrance, and in a chamber that looked even mustier than the already decrepit-looking upper level of the great library. This second basement floor was by no means smaller than the first, but the floors were marked with stone, and the lamps lighting the way forward seemed to carry a more sinister air. Patchouli, lantern in hand, began to walk, and I hastily followed.

As we journeyed, I felt the presence of some other entity nearby, but failed to pinpoint its exact location until the moment we turned the corner of one of the endless, ubiquitous wooden racks lining the chamber, and found myself face to face with an impish, devil-like girl. She nodded as my gaze turned to her, and after recovering from being startled by her sudden appearance, I nodded back. "Good evening."

The girl flinched at my reply, but provided no further answer of her own.

"There are no mornings or evenings here, traveler." Patchouli's voice reverberated around the hall, which was getting thicker with mist with every row passed. "In this place, all the books here are fast asleep. Only eyes cast upon their pages can awaken them from their slumber."

"You speak as if the books are alive," I interjected, "but are they not simply words on pages, some bound magically to this world, whilst others are simply left to be read and discarded at will?"

"To know of the soul of something is to, quite literally, read it like an open book. In here, things are no different." Patchouli stopped, and a leather-wrapped tome slid out of its slot in the shelf, flying swiftly into her outstretched hand. She handed the tome to me. It was heavy and the pages were ragged, but I endeavored, with Patchouli's good graces, to indulge myself in it nonetheless. Opening the pages, a strange array of words and numbers greeted me.

"What am I looking at?" I asked as I pored over the text, my mind drawing a complete blank over its meaning.

Patchouli raised her eyebrows. "See for yourself, traveler. The soul of this book is yours to know now."

I looked back at the yellowing pages again.

And, without warning, the world faded to black.

I came to in a small, stuffy room, a dim lantern hanging from a moldy ceiling, swinging slowly. The lantern was rusty and of simple make, yet there was no denying that its light came from a wellspring of a supernatural nature - for one, though it hung high above the room, no visible hooks or latches could be seen attaching it to the ceiling's surface. It simply hovered, swirling with the faintest tinctures of arcane energy.

As the lantern's glow pooled into the shadows, the room's contents gradually came into view. I was lying on a bed in the corner, and the only other item of furniture present seemed to be a desk set, an old oaken table with a set of drawers to complement it, and a similarly stocky chair upon which was sat a figure clad in purple silk robes that never seemed to remain still, fluttering with the aetheric wind that lent its owner the power she commanded as keeper of the realm's deepest, darkest secrets.

She heard my return to consciousness and turned, giving me the same smile she always wore when looking after her many guests. She had been writing a book - the pen in her hand and the scattered papers on the desk were good indication of that - and, considering that many of the library's selections had been penned by the librarian herself, that didn't surprise me in the least.

I quickly sat up, but Patchouli put up a hand to stay me. "Make sure you are feeling fully rested before you stand - the nauseatic effects of the magic you were exposed to may still linger."

"Magic?" I struggled to recollect what had happened. There was a book, leather-bound, yellowing, and full of what seemed to be the most random gibberish I'd ever laid eyes upon. And then...

"It was meant to give you nothing but a small shock, but I never expected the tome to hold so much power after so long." She bit her lower lip in thought. "And I never expected your adjustment to magic to be so... violent."

"I am a non-magical being, yes." I rubbed my head and felt a hard lump, freshly materialized, at the back.

"Not anymore." Patchouli herself stood, and came over to me. Placing a finger on my temple, she murmured something under her breath, and then stepped back. "That tome was a guide to basic youkai magic. Demon magic. The fact that you blacked out means that you found the soul of the book, and in it you unlocked your own potential, one that is latent in the vast majority of humans. I'm not saying that you'll be able to stop time or summon knives in times of need, like certain people do at the flick of a wrist. But perhaps you'll be able to do something you've never done before. That remains to be seen, of course, and if you stay here, maybe I could help you find out what it is your new powers will allow to happen."

It was obvious she was curious as to what the tome had done for me, or to me. So, too, was I.

"Sorry, Miss Knowledge. But I have a greater mission that I must attend to first, one that takes precedence over such a matter, and one that will involve incredible lengths of discovery, far more than what I have found here. I ought to depart soon, assuming I haven't slept for too long."

"Only a couple of hours." Patchouli seemed slightly disappointed. "Though I can't possibly see what could be more important than discovering what lies within yourself, rather than the outside world. Gensokyo is only as big as you want it to be - the human mind, however, is endless."

I smiled. "Thank you for your patronage, Miss Knowledge. But to me, Gensokyo is as limitless as any mind."

Following a few more exchanges of words and courtesies, I was ushered out of the great doors of the library and, after making my way past the Mansion gates, took my first steps into fresh air, and into Gensokyo proper.

Chapter Text

Gensokyo, the Land of Illusion, was perhaps one of the only places in the world where advancement of the spirit was valued more highly than advancement of material technology. Youkai, spiritual beings that might be termed "demons" or "devils" by most outer-world humans, coexisted with humans and other creatures, though the occasional conflict inevitably sprang up and brought the realm's many factional schisms into play. Of course, none of these skirmishes lasted for very long, or the realm would have long since reverted to the haunted, barren state it maintained long ago, before the youkai came seeking refuge from the aggressive actions taken against them by the increasingly human-populated world.

It was hard to say how I arrived here, or whether I would return to normal human society again in the near future. But what I did know is that however I came here, I did so through the Barrier, the central source of which was the Hakurei Shrine.

The Shrine was a humble and frail-looking structure, a stock building of stone and wood built on a crumbling foundation, and was perhaps one of the most physically unassuming in all of the realm, especially given the grandiose manner in which the Scarlet Devil Mansion presented itself. Yet the role it played in the realm's inner workings, and perhaps in the realm's very existence, was absolutely undeniable. For it was the Shrine that kept the denizens of Gensokyo, human, youkai and other supernatural creatures alike, safe from the perils of the humans without.

I knew little about the true details of what happened before the Shrine's formation, or what exactly led to Gensokyo's self-enforced isolation from the rest of the world. All I had gathered, after hearing bits and pieces from the few members of the Scarlet Devil Mansion willing to talk to me, was that there had been some kind of war, and human society, the society I knew, won out. Thus, to protect the youkai and their few human allies, a powerful barrier was erected over Gensokyo with the Shrine as its source. To destroy the Shrine would perhaps lead to the re-exposure of Gensokyo to the world, and with the advent of human technology, who knew what kind of horrors might be wreaked on the realm following such a revelation. Considering that the barrier's effects caused Gensokyo's current time to lag behind that of the modern world by several centuries, I doubted Gensokyo's inhabitants would have been happy to find their peace shattered by the arrival of a much-improved and considerably more bloodthirsty enemy. Thus, the Shrine stayed, and I supposed the vast majority of Gensokyo were happy to leave it that way.

The Shrine itself took on a fairly decrepit appearance, and was nestled in the farthest reaches of eastern Gensokyo. The path leading up to it was old and worn, and even on the best of days, it still proved hard to even find the beginning of the road to its entrance. So, one could perhaps sympathize with the trouble I put myself in to trek all the way from the Mansion, around Misty Lake, and over to the Shrine.

Upon arrival, I was greeted by the sight of a young girl sweeping the stone pavement leading towards the Shrine as I finalized the rockier portion of my long walk, feeling the uneven beaten path cut into the soles of my boots. She wore two of the most billowy and comfortable-looking arm-wraps I'd ever seen, and a simple red vest to complement the white-and-trim theme on the arm-wraps. What struck me most about her appearance, however, was the massive red ribbon tied on her head, with two smaller ribbons hanging off the ponytails on her faded-brown hair.

Recognizing her as the host of this shrine, I approached her and gave her a perfunctory nod in greeting. She beamed brightly upon seeing me - perhaps friendly visitors were a rare occurrence in a land like this. Especially if those visitors were other humans, of all the people that could come here.

There were several reasons why Reimu Hakurei was such a big name within Gensokyo. One was that she was a direct descendant of the creator of the powerful Hakurei Barrier, which meant that Reimu herself, carrying the blood of the Hakurei in her veins, too harbored great potential as a user of worldly magic. Another, a direct consequence of the aforementioned reason, was her constant fights with those few in number, yet no less significant, close-minded youkai who sought to destroy her home, and maybe the rest of Gensokyo along with it. I had yet to find out what the logic behind such attacks might be, though I knew that extreme boredom could drive even the sanest mind mad.

Additionally, following the example of the shrine that raised her, I soon found that looks could be deceiving.

"Good afternoon," she chirped. It was then that I began to feel what seemed like lead weights tugging on my eyelids - I had not slept for a good, long while.

"Afternoon to you too, Miss Hakurei." I gestured towards the Shrine. "May I?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. "Please do."

I rummaged in my pocket as I approached the little altar, roofed by a thin oaken fringe that barely shielded the entrance from the sun's glare. Surprisingly, I managed to find my wallet, slightly battered, but still intact. Judging by the amount of money inside, it seems that whoever had sent me here to Gensokyo had tried to ensure that I had enough to eat for at least a year or so. I couldn't recall ever withdrawing this much from the bank, at least...

I fished out a note and slipped it inside the donation box perched on the altar, hoping the gods would accept a form of currency from several hundred years into the future. Reimu's eyes followed my hand's progress towards the box closely.

Clapping my hands together and bowing to the little statue gazing up at me from the ground, I smiled at the expectant Reimu. "May I stay for a while longer? I'm in need of a little rest."

"Of course." Reimu beckoned for me to follow her, then darted into the side entrance of the Shrine. When I reached the doorway and peered in, I found her bustling about the place, pulling a table and cushions into the center of the room, a kettle already humming quietly on the miniature stove above the fireplace. Taking off my shoes, I stepped into the room, feeling the floor, completely covered in straw matting, rustle underneath my feet. A small coating of dust also matted the ground, but the straw was still cool and refreshing to the touch.

The contrast between this place and the Scarlet Devil Mansion could not have been more stark, more clear. The Mansion was a cold, large, empty place, and every whisper echoed in and out of the corridors, shimmering through the halls with an almost aetheric quality. No wind ever penetrated the walls of its chambers, and yet there was no denying the harsh, dark, and wholly disquieting veil that was cast over everything, an all-encompassing frostiness pooling into every corner, every niche, seeping into your bones. Even in the day, there was little comfort to be found from the sunlight, so tinted and warped by the windows that it became nothing but a mellow glow, a husk of dull illumination. The Mansion's size in itself warranted a second visit, though probably, and hopefully, not any time soon.

The Hakurei Shrine, however, clung tightly to its humble roots, and never seemed to tire of them. The interior was as dilapidated as the exterior, and yet it was so homely, so comforting, and so warm. Unbelievably warm. Still, the breeze coursing through the open doorway cooled the sweat on my back, and the smell of sweet tea permeated the slightly damp air inside. Only my deep-seated sense of courtesy prevented me from laying on the straw mattress and falling asleep immediately in the shadow of the lazy midday sun.

Reimu took a cushion and sat on it, adopting the knees-forward seating position I still had yet to master. I opted instead, as she patted the table and motioned for me to sit down, to cross my legs and use the cushion as a foot-stool of sorts, so refreshing was the feeling of the cold straw beneath me. We spent the next few minutes making small talk, letting the breezy chirping ubiquitous in all summers calm our ears as we chatted. As the kettle pouted, and Reimu brought it along with some teacups to the table, she popped the question.

"Your travels carry much color, traveler, though I am surprised you have yet to encounter any, well, more hostile entities on your way here." After hearing a summary of my experience in Gensokyo so far, she seemed eager to talk. "I am sure you will find some way of returning some day." She paused, and, slightly apologetically, she continued. "But you see, the process of returning to the outside world is as arbitrary as it is complicated. I am afraid some source of great power, or at least someone acquainted with the process, may be required. Outside the youkai, I do not know of anyone living here who has managed to leave yet."

"That's a little unfortunate." I took a sip of the tea she offered me. It was herbal in nature, with a distinct citrous aftertaste that carried away the mild bitterness that brought it forward in the first place.

"It is. But enough about that. We should make your stay in Gensokyo as comfortable as possible, while we can. I am not the greatest tour guide, but I can tell you a little about everything. Is there anything you have in mind, or anywhere you would like to go next?"

I raised my eyebrows, and thought about it for a moment. "I guess so."

"Let us hear it, then."

The location I next suggested I could search for answers at was a landmark I hadn't felt the need to examine closely on my way to the Hakurei Shrine, before a discussion with Reimu convinced me otherwise. I was told that it was often best to retrace one's steps when trying to figure anything out in Gensokyo, as the realm, despite being frozen in time within the barrier's hold, also constantly changed. Plus, with Reimu with me, I could have less fear of running into any unwanted contact, without anyone to back me up should things go awry.

"We are all good and pleasant folk here," Reimu said as we made our way into the forest bordering Misty Lake. "It is simply the case that none of us really knows how to resolve our differences without simultaneously relieving our boredom."

"Well, seeing as I'll be here a good while longer, I hope to meet more of this world's folk as long as I'm around." Recalling something Patchouli Knowledge had mentioned about Misty Lake, I continued, "I hear Misty Lake is home to monsters in addition to fairies. Is it safe?"

That last question was surely a pointless one to ask to someone harboring as much power as Reimu Hakurei, but Reimu seemed eager to put my fears to rest. "Any monsters there that would attack you can be negotiated with. Most fish tend to shrink away from human proximity. But there's always one or two..." She sighed.

I was on the verge of asking her about what she had said, but then her eyes brightened, and she pointed in front of us. "Look, the lake is just ahead."

By now, the sunlight had already dimmed to the extent that the sky had turned bright purple, with blotches of red here and there, marred by the occasional passing of clouds. As we left the shadow of the hill upon which the Shrine rested, I couldn't help but mull over what Reimu had told me just before we departed. As the sun had set, I had asked her about the possibility of leaving Gensokyo through the barrier, in the same way things often arrived here. She smiled sadly as I posed my question, and I knew then what her answer would be.

"Though we get the occasional item from the other side, no one from Gensokyo has ever been able to leave this place in a similar manner. Such is the power of the barrier, regrettably. Of course, it has preserved us in this state of harmony for so many centuries, but sometimes even I wonder what lies beyond..." She suddenly perked up, and leaned forward, eyes shining as she looked to me. "What is it like? Outside, I mean."

The modern era carried many features that, though seeming common and ordinary to us, would have seemed like miracles to those for whom time never waited. I began telling her as much about the world as I could, and with every new insight, she grew more and more incredulous.

"Flying tubes of steel that carry humans around?" She stifled a giggle. "Why bother, when you could just fly around by yourself?"

"Humans in our world aren't capable of aviation. We just don't have the ability to. Magic isn't exactly something we can... do."

"A regression, if you ask me, to a more powerless state." I knew most of the people in Gensokyo shared Reimu's view on the matter. Little wonder, then, that I was treated as a guest everywhere I went. "Though I'm sure if we gave them all a few check-ups, they'd be flying around in no time." She sobered up slightly. "Seven billion... it used to be a few million back then. I doubt any of us expected something like this."

The thought of having seven billion hostile entities surrounding your home would give even the most confident of people pause for thought. For the first time, I found it in myself to sympathize with the people of Gensokyo. Though, of course, I believed the Hakurei Barrier would do its job for as long as it took.

As long as it took... but for what? For the world to end? How long could this peace last for?

"Hey, traveler." Reimu snapped a finger in front of my face, and pointed in front of us again. "We're here."

"What?" Still slightly dazed, I followed the direction her finger was pointing in. What greeted me might as well have been the largest mirror I'd ever seen. It was night, and through the trees, I could see the moonlight leaving a trail of searing white across the still water. A small breeze picked up as we neared the lake's brim, and the water moved as one, rippling back and forth, the reflected moonlight on the surface shivering in the wind, but never breaking its stream. The trees shuddered, and I shuddered with them, pulling my jacket tighter towards myself. Reimu, though wearing only a cloth robe, seemed entirely unaffected by the incoming cold.

"I suppose she is sleeping now, but I'm sure some others are still awake," Reimu said. We began walking around the edge, taking care not to lose our footing and slip into the water.

"Who?" I asked.

Reimu glanced at me. "It depends what kind of answers you're looking for."

I shrugged. "I don't know what I would ask. What kind of information would I get from people who live in a lake, as opposed to from people who live on land?"

"In all honesty, I cannot say. Water sprites are a dumb lot."

"I'll have you take that back, Reimu," chirped a voice behind us.

I snapped around, looking for the source of the voice. The cold air had seeped right through my clothes, and I could feel myself teetering over the edge of unconsciousness. If the voice hadn't startled me, I might well have simply dropped dead halfway through our trek.

"Who's there?" I asked. There was nothing in front of me. All I saw were the swaying trees, the rippling water, the moonlight pouring into the dark forest-

"Down here," said the voice, in an obviously irritated tone.

I looked down. There, standing at around waist height, was a little girl. She had vibrant blue hair, and a simple blue dress to complement it, as well as a giant blue ribbon that looked uncannily similar to Reimu's. She was standing with her hands on her hips, looking at my eyebrows, as if that could somehow make her seem taller than me. She stared up, and I glanced nervously back.

"Hello there, little girl," I said. "Gah!"

A small icicle had materialized out of nowhere and headed straight for me. It struck me in the knee, and though it couldn't penetrate the skin, it sent shockwaves reverberating through the nerves in my kneecap, and my right leg gave. Without warning, I was sent plunging straight into the cold water.

Daggers shot straight through my bones as I landed. As I struggled to move my joints, which had locked together from the shock of the impact, I heard a boom reverberate across the clearing. My eyes jerked open, and through the bubbling water I could see the sky glow blood red. The glow faded as quickly as it had come, and I stumbled onto the bank of the lake, coughing and spluttering. As my mind cleared and I rubbed the water from my eyes, I had my first sight of a tremendous testament to the power of Hakurei.

A crystalline light shone high above the lake. Bathing within the light was Reimu, one hand outstretched, rows upon rows of meticulously decorated cards hovering in unison, weaving in and out of her fingers. Her robes fluttered wildly, and it was almost possible to see shimmering waves of heat and wind beneath her, currents of magic tracing her every move, supporting her ascent towards the pinnacle of power.

A groan came from some distance in front of her, and I looked over to see the little girl leaning against a tree, clutching her temples, shaking the pain from them as she attempted to stand, struggling almost as much as I did. A black-and-white charm above her head evaporated just as she regained her footing, and it was evident that the charm was of Reimu's doing, as with a swipe of Reimu's hand, two more appeared by her side.

"The traveler is my guest, Cirno," Reimu said sternly as she looked down upon the girl in blue. "Do not let your pettiness get the better of you."

Something cracked beneath my feet, and I looked down to see a web of stunning white begin to spread across the lake's exterior. I leapt out of the water seconds before the ice could solidify and trap me in its embrace.

"Anyone who looks down on me will get only what they deserve," Cirno replied brashly. "The traveler isn't your friend - step aside, and I'll spare you the need to face me."

The cards hovering around Reimu's hands stopped, suspended in complete stasis. Then, without warning, they darted towards Cirno, a hail of red flitting across the lake's edge faster than the eye could see, so that it looked like a single stream of paper flying through the air.

Cirno flicked her hand upwards, and an equally impressive storm of icicles materialized from behind her, rising to meet the red blizzard in equal number. As red and blue clashed, the conjured objects annihilated each other, reverting back to their primal, magical forms, disappearing with small bursts of light. It was akin to watching a deadly dance of fire and ice, enemies equal in number and power, no side taking the lead.

Inevitably though, the lake water that had evaporated during the day came to Cirno's aid, and a second ring of icicles overrode Reimu's attack, parrying the cards and hurtling towards Reimu herself. With a point of a finger from Reimu's other hand, a circle of inscriptions grew from the tip of her finger, absorbing the icicles and simultaneously feeding on the magical bullets, expanding in size until it was thrice the size of Reimu. The shield vanished with a second motion, and the lake was dark again.

For several moments, nothing moved. Then, Cirno turned to me, staring unflinchingly as she spoke.

"What do you want, human?" she asked coldly.

So cold was the water's edge, so chilling was the breeze, that at first, I could not find it in myself to speak. But as I opened my mouth, Reimu held a hand up to stay my tongue.

"The traveler is lost, Cirno." For the first time, Reimu spoke in a quiet, yet clearly firm tone. I doubt many had the chance to see her so subdued. "He came from outside the barrier, and he only seeks passage home."

Cirno's eyebrows creased in confusion. "He's a complete foreigner to this place. Why do you bother? I thought you only had a thing for youkai."

"I can only find sincerity in his actions. There is no malice coming from this man."

"You've always been a sucker for helping people. Maybe it's time you stopped stomping around the place like you owned it."

"Why, you-"

"Reimu, stop!" I pleaded. I knew I had to interject before the duo started fighting again, but when both maidens looked at me, I was nearly at a loss for words. "I... feel that we won't get anywhere with you two fighting. Cirno, you may choose not to believe me, but I have no recollection of how I got here, or why I got here. I only want help, and Reimu told me we could find some here."

Cirno's gaze never wavered, but I could at least sense that her guard was lowering.

"What kind of help were you expecting from me?" Cirno asked, appearing bemused. "The others are asleep, and you're obviously not from around here."

"Answers." I bit my lip, thinking of what to say next. "A way to exit this realm. If I have to ask everyone who lives in this place the same question, I will." Looking away from Reimu, I added, "Especially since even a descendant of the creator of the barrier doesn't know."

Cirno sighed. "As if you thought I'd know what to do. I've been living here at the lake for as long as I can remember. Barriers, wars, whatever - I don't care."

"But you have to admit that you're at least a bit curious about his plight," Reimu chipped in. "Otherwise, knowing you, you wouldn't even have bothered hearing him out."

"Knowing me, huh." Cirno rolled her eyes. "If you're such an expert on the way things operate around here, then you wouldn't have brought the traveler here, would you?" She paused. "I am a little interested. Even so, I know nothing beyond what kinds of things fall in from the other side of the barrier. Some of that stuff ends up in the lake, after all."

I urged her on. "Anything will help."

"Well, let's see." Cirno fished into her dress pocket, and took out a weathered, thin black box. "The Princess found this the other day."

"The Princess?" Another new name to add to the ever-growing list of new names.

"Princess Wakasagi. A mermaid. Anyway, she gave it to me, since she didn't know what it was for. It appeared only a couple of days ago, so it should be from your time, whenever that is." She tossed the box over, and I hastily reached over to catch it. It slipped through my fingers, and the sound of the box splashing into the water, the sound of my shame, reverberated through the empty lakeside air.

Upon closer inspection, what had looked like a simple black box from a distance turned out to be, of all things, a smartphone. It had the glass screen, power and volume buttons, and everything else you'd expect it to have. A pity that it didn't turn on - perhaps Cirno carrying it around with her had fried - or frozen - the circuits in the device. The fact that I remembered what a smartphone was surprised me then, as did my memory of airplanes when I was describing the outside world to Reimu, but at the time, I was simply happy to find something from my time in this temporally ancient realm.

"Something you recognize?" Cirno asked, seeing the small smile that grew on my face.

I nodded. "It is something. Would you mind if I kept it?"

She shrugged. "I don't need it."

I pocketed the phone, and turned to Reimu. "I guess we could keep looking, if Cirno can't offer us any help."

"I suppose so." Reimu took one last angry glance at Cirno, as if trying to say, 'You keep off my guest!'. Cirno glared back.

In hindsight, maybe we should've just headed for the Human Village instead, even if it was farther away.

The new addition to my jacket pocket repeatedly struck the side of my abdomen as we made our way back to the Hakurei Shrine. Though the weight, which sat next to my journal, was slightly uncomfortable, I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time since I'd arrived here. Looking back at all the hours spent weaving in and out of Misty Lake's surrounds, hoping not to attract the curiosity of any of the more inquisitive and hostile of the locals, I realized how nice it was to finally have a companion, if not a friend. Solitude was tolerable before, but now I felt as if I could never go anywhere within the bounds of this realm without someone - someone human - watching my back. And with the smartphone, my first source of hope, in my possession, I hoped to continued following whatever clues I could salvage. At this point, there was little I wouldn't do to get the answers I wanted.

Not that I minded any company of smaller stature, either. Reimu was next to me, and standing unusually close. Not a surprise, considering who was trailing somewhat awkwardly behind us.

"Why are you following us?" Reimu finally broke the ice, swiveling to confront our unnaturally voiceless follower.

Cirno shrugged. "I hate to say this, but like I said before, I'm curious. I want to know how the traveler got here. It's not like he's anything special, right?"

Reimu squinted at Cirno. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"You're not being yourself, Reimu." Cirno's tone was as frosty as the icy mist that steamed quietly in her wake. "Sure, we get many people who are thrown in from the other side. But," she turned to look at me, "you're... different, somehow. Maybe it's just that you're a newer face than most of the humans around here."

"What eras are the humans in the villages usually from?" I asked.

Cirno shrugged. "Can't tell you. I know nothing about human history. But they seem to accept us well enough. So, we don't complain. You, though - you're different."

"I'll take that as a compliment." We continued in further silence.

The Shrine came into view. With its cracks and dents accentuated under the misty moonlight, even the shadows cast on the surrounding grass seemed to capture - and hence emphasize - just how old the place really was. Which, of course, begged the question: How old were Reimu, and Cirno, and Patchouli, and everyone else who resided in this realm? Did anyone ever die, be it from overzealous skirmishes or from natural causes? Did age even matter in this place?

I relayed those questions to Reimu and Cirno, but any clear answers from them remained forthcoming. I decided to save them for a later time - I was tired, and our jaunt around the lake had only served to make matters worse. As we re-entered the Shrine's main room, I gave in to the notion of rest, and closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes again, the sunlight was streaming in, a glare that almost blinded me as soon as my eyelids parted. I grunted, and rolled over.

I then remembered where I was, and darted awake.

The same smell of citrus tea greeted my nose. A familiar warmth descended upon my senses, complemented by a cool breeze streaming through the windows, thrown wide open to allow the damp grassy odor from outside to mix with the sweetness of the Hakurei Shrine's signature herbal concoction within.

I looked around. Reimu wasn't in. Probably sweeping the pavement outside, or cleaning up somewhere.

I heard a snort, and looked down to see another figure sprawled right next to where I had been sleeping. A trail of drool had escaped from Cirno's gaping mouth, and as she turned, her mouth curled into a silly little smile, and she giggled. Remembering her verbal ferocity from the night before, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the sight.

Looking out the window, I spotted Reimu in the distance, clutching her trusty broom, swinging it back and forth. The crickets sang. The trees whistled. The sun continued shining. The teapot on the stove puffed contentedly.

Whatever concerns I had could wait.

It was night-time in Gensokyo. I huddled over at the edge of the lake, pulling my legs towards me, half an eye watching as the water, so still as to be almost dead, rolled over the patches of moss on the rocky step that divided the land between green and blue. The moon was perfectly reflected in the great mirror that lay at the heart of the surrounding forest, and high above, the reflection's source hung on the wall of the sky, glued to the canvas by the waxy clouds plastered lazily across the perennial darkness.

I could never recall a place like this in the world that I once knew, for between the images from my recent travails and the farther, fainter memories of my childhood, there was a large, gaping chasm, as deep as the bottom of the lake that I now sat beside. I cared not to recount what I knew, for nothing that I could remember would aid me in my ultimate aim of escaping this place. Yet, I had always harbored an upwelling of adventurousness within me, and this disquiet, this small flicker, now spread like wildfire as the true scale of this realm became apparent to me. This was not just a patch of forest here and there, or a mansion overlooking a body of water. This was an entirely different world, an elevated dimension where its denizens, though trapped in the past, felt as free to move about as normal humans might do. More so, even, with the help of magic.

What Patchouli had imparted on me in the library of her mansion had left a lasting effect in my psyche. It was a lesson beyond any which could be given by word or by picture. As the events of this diary's first few entries began to sink into me, I began not only to remember, but also to relieve. A worldly lock had been cut; a switch had been flipped deep inside my brain. For the first time, at least as far as my mind would allow me to recollect, I could distinctly feel the nature of the veil draped over all of Gensokyo. It was a pulsating, intangible force that could be disturbed, could be pulled and pushed and toyed with at will by those who knew how to, but it was much too heavy to be lifted.

This, too, led to another revelation – if, somehow, the blindfold was pulled off the eyes of every sentient being that resided here, not only would they lose their magical abilities, but the entire piece of land upon which Gensokyo sat would be violently ripped through time, all the way into the present world as I, and the few other humans that lived here, knew it. If that were to happen, the repercussions would be severe, to say the least, not just for the people in this dimension but also for the people in mine. It was a sobering thought, but at the same time, if it did happen, how could any of us possibly stop it?

I suspected that the key lay with the guardian of the portal between the worlds, who now approached from behind, humming softly to herself, her robe sailing loftily over the grass as she made her way over to me.

"Traveler, you must be hungry." She set down a tray beside me. On it was a plate of rice, accompanied by white chunks of fish, a salad comprised of mixed greens, and the expected bowl of miso soup to top the meal off.

"Thank you. I am famished," I admitted. "It smells delicious."

I could almost hear her smile as she patted her robe down and took a seat beside me. A tiny pebble was dislodged as she took her place in the grass, and it tumbled down into the water, splashing audibly in the otherwise quiet night. Upon contact, the lake rippled obligingly, perfect circles reverberating out into the center of the water, sending shockwaves through the painting of the moon's great white exterior.

I took the rice, plucked a couple of fish chunks from the tray, and began to eat. The shrine maiden watched me intensely.

"It's good," I assured her through a mouthful of food. "Very good."

She lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled. "I am glad."

A twinge of embarrassment shot through my chest, and I completed the rest of my meal in silence. The moon, recovering from the last of the ripples, gazed back at me as I sipped the soup, letting the slightly rough miso stock brush past the back of my throat.

I put the bowl back on the tray and took it as I stood up and made ready to go back.

"Oh no, allow me." Reimu rushed to take the tray from my hands.

"It's fine. You cooked this, the least I could do is wash it for you."

Another rustling through the grass, this one much quieter than the last, drew near.

"You two are like a married couple. Just let him do what he wants, Reimu."

"We are not like a married couple," Reimu snapped. I was lucky she spent the next few minutes embroiled in her usual brawl with Cirno, or she would have seen, even in the waning light of the moon, that my neck was bright red up to my ears.

Chapter Text

As the night wore on, I tossed and turned under the wool blanket, shifting my body and pulling my legs towards me until the straw mattress underneath was able to hold all of my tired, fatigued figure. I had not gotten any fatter or thinner since I came here – in fact, my appearance had not changed in a long, long while: my hair, facial or otherwise, had not grown out, my hands and feet felt as rugged as they did the first time I awoke, cold and shivering, on the edge of the lake, under the watchful gaze of the great Mansion overlooking it. It felt like an eternity since I had arrived, even though I knew it had only been a few weeks. Or had it?

On the occasions that I did manage to get a longer bit of sleep than usual, a series of strange dreams always came to me. These ranged from vivid flashes of imagery from battles long past, to a dark, gripping sensation that threatened to pull me under the water, suffocating me, sending me spiraling down until I awoke, gasping for air, sometimes startling the one or two occupants of the Shrine that slept beside me. Reimu would ask after me and prepare a small bowl of barley tea to calm my nerves; Cirno would yap at me for my discourtesy, and roll over with a harrumph.

I suspected that there was more to my arrival here than I currently knew, and I could think of one of many places that might provide me the answers that I sought: the Human Village, a haven hidden safely away from the line of sight of the vast majority of the resident youkai. It would perhaps serve me well to go there, assuming I could hack my way through the Forest of Magic, whose name I had learned from one of Reimu's many lectures about the geography of the realm. Many a danger lurked in the Forest, but I was assured that there would be help if I so needed it.

I took the offer, and was greeted the next day by an easygoing, sanguine young girl, who rapped on the wooden door at the break of dawn and announced herself to us through the window.

"Your ride is here," she called, whacking the bristles of her broom against the wooden walls. A small plume of dust gushed into the room.

"Come in," Reimu sighed. "Take off your shoes, please. And your hat."

Marisa Kirisame quickly rid herself of her boots and giant witch hat, and with a click of her fingers, the room was alight. A small but powerful flame made itself cozy on the seat of her palm, peering out at the pairs of squinting eyes reluctantly looking back at it.

"Thanks for coming, though you're pretty early. Not that I'm complaining, anyway. Also," Reimu's voice suddenly stiffened, "don't touch that. It's brand new."

Marisa withdrew her hand, which had been hovering over the tea kettle. "Liar. It's the same kettle you always use."

"Cirno broke the old one when she tried to make iced tea. I just happened to get one that looked the same."

"Mrghh," muttered Cirno, still half-awake and rubbing her eyes.

"I don't even know why you're still here." Reimu glared at the ice fairy, who responded with a blank stare.

"It's cold at night in the lake. I like it here."

"I am sure you do, but I'm running out of food a lot quicker now, especially since I have three mouths to feed. Not that I mind having you here, traveler," she quickly added, giving me a reassuring smile.

"I can't express my gratitude enough," I replied hastily. "But I suppose I'll be gone for a while now, so that will ease the burden on you for the moment."

"It is no problem. I would go with you, but I have a mandate here, for the moment. The Shrine requires my attentions for a few more days."

"I understand completely. I wouldn't have troubled you to come with me anyway, though I am still thankful for your recommendation of Miss Kirisame."

"Just Marisa is fine." The witch pushed her golden locks over her shoulders. "I can't promise a smooth journey though, broom or not."

"I'll cope. I have all the time in the world."

Marisa chuckled. "You may be right. Now, hop on." She brought the wizened old broom in her hand down, clambered over it, and motioned for me to go outside. I took my seat – if it could be called that – behind her. For the briefest of moments, we sat there, picturesque, the flame in her hand being doused by the tiny rays of sunlight creeping over the hills.

"You'll need to hold onto me, you know," Marisa said after what seemed like a full minute. "I can't fly this thing and keep you aboard at the same time."

"I… I'm sorry. I was wondering why you wouldn't take off." I clamped my hands awkwardly around her waist. Under that giant, frilly costume was a surprisingly thin and lean figure, though the curve around her hips was still evident, at least from what I could feel.

"Have a safe trip." Reimu leaned against the doorframe and gave me one last smile. I returned it just in time to settle onto the broom before it rocketed away, and my focus was now fully on keeping the churning contents of my stomach from escaping into the misty air.

The well-worn handle of the broom parted the fog in front of us as we skimmed the tops of the trees, a gust of dislodged leaves whirling and twirling in our wake. We had been traveling for the better part of an hour, and yet the scenery was the same as it always seemed to have been, row after row of coniferous perennials rising up from the screen of mist that obscured our vision, beckoning us forward, then bending away as we approached, Marisa's expert hand guiding us through the valley of branches that formed. At the front of our ride was attached a small lantern that swung violently as we twisted and turned, occasionally smacking one of the branches head on and spinning around the axis of the broom's handle. The fire within it, also another magical construct, spluttered and spewed wanton bursts of flame, yet whenever it made contact with the derelict oak of the broom, it seemed to pull away, as if desperately trying to avoid setting its master's means of flight alight.

"How much longer?" I called into the empty gray air.

"We're going to take a detour and stop by my house." Marisa glanced to her left and squinted, but the fog continued to offer no clarity. "I have something I need to do first. I think we're close."

"How can you tell?" I looked down as far as I dared. The sea of misty green rapidly rose up to greet me, and I quickly averted my gaze.

"The magic is getting stronger. It's thickening. Also, look." She pointed vaguely to her right. I followed her finger, and saw in the distance a hazy, dark gray patch.

"What's that?" As I watched, the patch began to float upwards, and trace the direction of our travel. It was following us.

"Spores. They grow into mushrooms that are chock full of magic, but are also extremely dangerous for most living beings to consume. Unless you have a good handle on your magic," she tapped the hem of her witch hat, "you won't return from the hole it digs for you."

"So, you've eaten them before?"

"A few times. But they don't do much to me. I just get a little hangover and that's about it." As if on cue, the spores abruptly shrunk away and melted into the backdrop.

Marisa tugged at her broom, and we began to descend, easing into a small clearing that probably would've taken weeks to find on foot, even if you had the magical affinity that Marisa enjoyed. Reimu had told me that, despite all her myriad powers, Marisa was not a youkai, tengu, or some other kind of magical being – she was as human as any of us. Perhaps all the time spent living and breathing in such thick magical air had aided her in unlocking the latent powers that supposedly all humans had, if we would only devote ourselves to total seclusion in the middle of a forest full of special toxic mushrooms and semi-sentient spores.

We fell lightly into the hole in the blanket, and I disembarked not-so-elegantly from the mount, almost tripping over totally flat ground and plunging my face into the tall grass matting the forest floor. This area of the Forest looked totally normal, though I knew looks could be deceiving, an adage that was more than appropriate in a place like this.

Marisa hopped off the broom and it immediately ceased to hover, plopping onto the ground, the lantern clanking noisily as it was also thrown downwards. An outstretched hand called the broom back to its owner, and we began trudging through the thicket. Around us, the leaves danced in greeting, borne aloft both by wind and an almost intangible ether that I could barely feel sinking into my pores, stirring and thickening the air into a viscous concoction. It wasn't difficult to breathe, it was simply… a new experience, feeling the air almost pour down my throat, as if liquid, yet evaporating back into its original gaseous form once it vanished down my windpipe.

A line of trees and low-hanging vines parted to reveal yet another dilapidated cabin, not far removed from the make of Reimu's humble Shrine, but much more attuned to nature's comings and goings. More vines creeped over the wooden walls which, despite their derelict appearance, showed no signs of rotting. A simple sloping stone roof covered the abode, with fallen fruits and leaves scattered across its surface, gathering in small piles at its base. A single window allowed what little light there was to enter, though a lamp burned brightly from within, sat atop a miniature oaken worktable. In all, it was as much as one might need to survive and live with themselves, and little more than that.

"What's there to do in this forest?" I wondered aloud.

"What's there to do in Gensokyo?" Marisa chuckled in reply. "I collect plants around the Forest and make potions out of them. Then I take them to the Village and sell them, or trade them for food."

"Seems like a quiet life for one of the most powerful witches in all the land."

"In a place like Gensokyo, the only thing power brings is security, nothing more. It's a big place, but we know its limits, and I have no desire to rule over people who I already know well. Plus," she laughed, "they would never let me. Not without a fight."

"Seems fair enough. Are you the only one who lives here?"

"I wish." Marisa gave me a rueful smile and opened the door to the cabin, gesturing for me to enter. "I do have a noisy neighbor, but we get along. Usually."

Reimu had told me about Marisa's neighbor. Another magician of similar strength, but of a different discipline entirely – while Marisa dealt in energy and raw power, her fellow sorcerer dealt in manipulation and telekinesis. Two very different fighting styles, none in any way better than the other.

Marisa flung her wavy golden locks back and began rummaging through the shelves in her living room. There were only two rooms in the cabin, one main room with an old couch, the aforementioned worktable with two chairs to match, and a large shelf that stood next to the door to the bedroom, an even smaller chamber with barely enough space to swing the door open without hitting the bed.

I glanced at the worktable. There were detailed drawings of different types of grass, stacked under an empty flask being used as a paperweight. A potion rack sat at the back of the desk, columns of green, blue and purple sealed by mud-brown corks.

"Found it!" Marisa tugged a tome off the shelf and opened it. "Let's see. One order of common medicine, which is… three spoons of crushed fairy grass, half a stalkless blue-cap mushroom, half a vial of common spores, and a dash of lemongrass extract and sugar to help it go down. Please bear with me," she rushed over to the potion rack and plucked one of the blue tubes out, "I have been busy with orders lately. People are getting sick quicker and quicker nowadays."

"I understand, take your time." I leaned back into the couch, settling into the frayed cushions as I observed Marisa scurrying about the tiny cabin. A tiny ray of sunlight prodded the back of my hand, but as soon as I was aware of it, it was gone.

We spent the next half an hour waiting for her latest potion order to come to boil, making small talk on the couch as the smell of lemongrass filled the room and departed via the tiny open crack in the window.

"How long have you lived here for?" I asked. The house itself looked at least a hundred years old, if not more. The lilac paint on the peeling wallboards was noticeably faded, turning a gentle shade of pink in the lamplight. The boards themselves had been hastily nailed together, and the oversight in the cabin's construction now showed itself in the form of sprouts and vines sneaking into the many gaps in the walls, gathering around the worktable, bathing in the flickering glow. It was almost as if Marisa, or whoever had lived here before her, had not intended on a long stay in this forest, but then found themselves unable to escape, and so were doomed to make their habitation permanent.

Yet, Marisa, despite her frilly housemaid's dress and wizened old hat, radiated anything but dereliction. Her abundant locks fell delicately over her shoulders, springing forth from underneath the purple hem of her headwear. She had jet-black eyes and a piercing gaze that spoke of an intense curiosity, a youthful inquisitiveness about anything that was of interest to her – in this case, me.

"My whole life," she said. Somehow, that seemed like a sufficient answer to me. "And you? How long have you been here for?"

"My memory's still kind of fuzzy, but I'd say a month or so." I scratched my head as I struggled to recall what I'd been doing for the past few weeks. I'd come here from the Shrine, and before that, I'd been at the Mansion. But was that all?

"I can't remember what I was doing before I came here," I thought aloud.

"I figured as much. You look lost. Yet," she added, "your spirit has not betrayed you. After all, you are here, are you not? Lesser figures would have been driven to madness, or even to death. But you want to find answers, even if it's the last thing you do."

"That's the problem. I don't know if I want to go home, because I can't remember where home is. Or was. For all intents and purposes, this is my home for now, and I intend on finding out as much as I can about it."

"A good mentality to have. Curiosity breeds motivation; motivation breeds energy. We all live on curiosity. Which, partly, is what led me here."

The lemongrass smell started to grow in intensity. It was so strong, in fact, that my head was starting to pound. I brought a hand to my head, and Marisa, noticing my discomfort, rushed over to me.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Lie down. I'll get you some water."

I obliged, reaching to open the window as I did so. Somehow, I knew it wasn't the lemongrass that was causing me pain, and my fears were confirmed the moment the window swung open, and something from inside my head burst into a million infinitesimal pieces.

At once, it was as if the ground had opened below me, and I was hanging onto an errant branch sticking out from the cliff overlooking the gaping abyss below. In my delirium, I began to flail wildly, knocking myself off the couch and landing painfully onto the wooden floor. The impact brought my mind to think I had been dislodged from the branch to which I clung, and a great fear stabbed into my heart, driving the blood from my limbs, numbing me, until I was completely paralyzed from the chest down.

Marisa dropped the glass of water she had been preparing and came over to me. She grabbed an orange potion from the rack and frantically pulled the locked muscles of my mouth open, pouring the potion into my throat with shaking hands. It was sweet, a smooth, viscous serum that soothed my panic almost immediately and brought me back to my senses.

"What happened?" I managed to mouth, blinking the sweat away from my eyes. I could barely process what had just transpired, but soothing the constriction in my chest and the mad beating of my heart was my priority. I still felt on the verge of a second attack, but such was the potency of Marisa's potion that warmth and feeling was already creeping back into my arms and legs.

Marisa put a hand on my forehead. Something in my head stirred, and escaped out of the front of my temple, as if sucked away into Marisa's palm.

"What was that?" I croaked.

Marisa looked at me. Her eyes had a much harder tone to them now, a fine crescent of yellow lining the ridge of the black.

"You're human, am I correct?"

"As far as I know." I leaned on her shoulder, and was helped back onto the couch. Marisa sat down beside me, hands on her knees, a serious look growing on her young features.

"I think we may have to prolong our stay here a little while longer."

"That witch!" Marisa seethed, oblivious to the apparent irony of her exclamation. "I'll never know what she's thinking." She paced around the room, hands clutched behind her back, deep in thought. After what I had told her, she clearly had a lot to process.

Following a little prodding on her part, I had told her about my visit to the Mansion library, Patchouli Knowledge's exposure of me to one of her magic tomes, and my subsequent blackout. Patchouli's offer to teach me more about magic had been in the back of my mind for some time, and I relayed this memory to Marisa, at which point she had stood up and begun her soliloquy.

My head was still reeling from whatever it was that had brought my mind to the brink, but a tea brew that Marisa had given me (she had told me it was "coriander, lemongrass, and sun grass"), while coming equipped with a pungent and striking smell, was surprisingly nice on the tongue. I sipped from the pot while I waited for the clouds casting long, hard shadows over my brain to clear.

Marisa stopped abruptly, her shoes squeaking on the stone floor as she came to a halt.

"I would get you out of this forest if I could do so safely. At this point, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the broom ride without falling off, unless I tie you to a harness." An image of a stork carrying a baby in a pouch aloft in its beak flashes across my eyes. "So, to spare you that, we should get you attuned to the magic around here first. After all, there is a lot of it."

"How will we do that though?" I asked, puzzled.

"One thing you have to learn about magic is that it's a form of energy that is generated as you move and perform actions. Think of it as a windmill that creates energy as the wind whistles through its sails."

"Like a wind turbine?"

"A what?"

Hearing Marisa's confusion made me instinctively reach for my pocket. Somehow, the smartphone was still there, lying undisturbed amidst all that had been going on.

"Anyway. The energy is stored latently inside your mind, in a cross-dimensional container that all humans have. At least, that's what it seems like to me. If all the magic in there were physical in some way, my brain would've been ashes a long time ago."

"Sounds reasonable. So, the magic is just sitting there, dormant?"

"Exactly. Normal humans have no interaction with magic, so their reserves remain untapped for the rest of their lives, from birth, 'til death. However, if a switch is pushed, the container starts filling up. That," Marisa's expression darkened, "is where Patchouli's tome comes in. It pains me to say that Patchouli knows a lot more about magic than I do. I've never studied it in any kind of capacity – it just comes to me, like a reflex, due to my affinity with the magic in this forest that keeps my inventory stocked. But any kind of official form of study is beyond me." Her eyes widened. "You know what? I've got the perfect idea. You fancy a walk?"

"I think so. But to where?"

"To my shop. I keep a lot of magical items there, including things we can use to help you release some of that spare magic. Spell books, magic items, and objects we could turn into target practice."

"Is that the potion shop you run in the Human Village?"

"Oh, no. That's my main job. This shop is in the Forest. It's not the most stable source of income, but I enjoy running it considerably."

Marisa clicked her fingers, and the fire under the boiling flask on the worktable puffed and vanished. We made our way back to the clearing, and went beyond it, entering the forest proper for the first time.

The fog had thinned slightly, and tiny spears of weak sunlight shone through the gaps in the canopy above. The vines curling around the tree trunks took on a jaded emerald hue, and the dew falling off the branches splattered lightly onto the leaf-matted forest floor, sparkling in the transient light, reflecting pinpricks of white and green into my eyes. Even the sight alone was magical, and I took it in with a newfound sense of awe.

A roughly fifteen-minute walk led us to a second clearing, a smaller one than the first, where another cabin resided. It was clear that this was meant to be a shop, as one of the walls had been battered down, leaving a window behind which a shopkeeper might sit. Indeed, as we approached, a sleeping figure lifted her head from the countertop.

Marisa froze.

"Were you looking for me?" she called in a guarded manner.

The figure shook the hair, formed in locks almost as golden and spectacular as Marisa's own, away from her face to reveal a squinting, dark-rimmed, angry pair of brown irises.

"Marisa." My host flinched upon hearing her own name. "You took this, didn't you?" She pointed to a tiny doll, so detailed and well-woven as to almost be a copy of the girl herself, wedged awkwardly between two leather-bound books.

"That… is not my doing. Someone gave it to me."

"Liar." The girl stood up, patting the frilled drape around her shoulders. "It was at my house yesterday. I remember you paying a visit before you left."

"I'm just telling the truth as I know it. The Three Fairies were with me, as you recall. They handed it to me afterwards."

"The Three Fairies wouldn't steal from me. I know their ilk. But you…"

She lifted her hand. The doll between the books suddenly glowed, and rose above the pile of junk inhabiting the back of Marisa's shop, hovering slowly over to her master's side, glaring at Marisa and I menacingly.

"Alice, please. Today's not the day for this. This human needs my help."

Alice Margatroid remained unmoved. "I thought you'd never dare steal from me. It seems I was mistaken." Another doll materialized into the air behind her.

Without warning, a fierce heat erupted from beside me. I turned to see Marisa, orb of flickering fire in hand, giving physical illumination to the anger that now lit up her delicate features.

"I apologize, traveler," she muttered. "We may have to postpone our session for today."

"Take your time, I suppose." I retreated hastily from the battlefield, just as the first fireball was launched.

Chapter Text

What is magic?

In my old, magically-unattuned world, magic meant card tricks, sleight of hand, and the occasional head being detached from and re-attached to its owner. For sure, some shows could be spectacular, but as humans we could always take solace in the fact that all of it was merely a very elaborate set of illusions that, with the help of numerous props and distracting legerdemain, conjured a feast to be consumed by the eyes, and by very little else. After all, with a little deep thought and some thorough research, most of the propositions that magicians advanced for a living could be debunked or revealed, rendering the magic tricks, well, not so magical.

The same could hardly be said of what unfolded before me as I cowered behind a tree, hoping the next bolt of energy would not hit the area where I was taking shelter, potentially causing the old oaks between which I was taking shelter to fall in a more-than-spectacular fashion, rendering me too dead to observe what would happen next. It was nothing if not the world's greatest light show: every rocket of blinding heat was met with an equally impressive circular spell shield to match, every spear greeted by a shield to block it, every unstoppable force resisted by an equally immovable object. Neither side could best the other – just when one party seemed to gain the upper hand, their opponent brought them back down to size.

The flames searing the air above the forest floor began to catch the tips of the grass, setting the arena ablaze with a fierce, magically-saturated wall of heat and light. So rapid was the spread of the fire that it seemed to chase me as I backed away. The heel of my shoe caught on an errant rock, and I fell painfully on my back, helpless to watch as the roaring embers descended upon my body. Marisa was not so absorbed in her fight that she failed to notice this, but she, too, knew she could do little to help – she could produce magic, but absorbing it back into herself was beyond even the scope of her immense ability. I put a hand to my eyes, shielding them from the blinding glare that heralded my death.

Yet, the expected catharsis never came. The danger... simply ceased to be.

I blinked in surprise. When my eyes reopened, the flames, flying dolls, and errant bolts of light were gone. So sudden was the change in temperature brought by their disappearance that the air was now freezing cold in comparison, and I clutched at my elbows, the hairs on my limbs and my neck standing so straight as to almost pull themselves out of their follicles.

"Who goes there?" called the doll-wielder, evidently irritated by the interruption of her battle.

A plume of long, silver hair, mildly tinted with azure, floated past me and into the clearing. The figure stood between the two combatants, scrutinizing them carefully. Marisa appeared the more relieved of the two to see the newcomer – Alice, on the other hand, was guarded and reticent. I surmised that this was someone who knew the two of them well, and when the figure turned, her dark brown irises fixing upon my hapless self, it felt as if she somehow knew me well, too, even if I couldn't say the same about her.

"I will not tolerate the harming of any of the humans, even if this one is foreign to my village." She approached me and held out her hand. "Are you well?"

"I am, all thanks to you." She had a surprisingly strong grip, and I was pulled to my feet with an unexpected ease.

She smiled gently. "It is nothing." Her outfit, though ornamented with red ribbons from head to toe, was somewhat tame compared to the extravagance in fashion that I had been exposed to upon coming here, her blue-and-white frilled dress complemented only by the dainty, square-topped hat sitting atop her silver locks. She looked plain, to put it bluntly, but, as with all the people who resided here, there was evidently more to her than met the eye.

"It's unusual for you to come so far into the Forest," Marisa piped up.

"I heard about the arrival of a visitor to our realm from Reimu. She told me you would be here." The silver-haired maiden sighed. "I felt the rise in magic coming from deep inside the Forest, so I had to come check. My duty is to all humans, you see. And that extends to the two of you, too."

"You know I abandoned my humanity long ago," Alice retorted.

"Be that as it may, I still feel the need to look out for you regardless. Which, in today's case, was more than justified."

Alice scowled. "Do as you like." She turned and drifted away into the Forest, disappearing into the distant brush, her dolls, with their glow extinguished, in tow.

"I apologize, I did not introduce myself." The silver-haired maiden bowed slightly, and I nodded in reply. "I am Keine Kamishirasawa, but Keine will suffice."

"A pleasure to meet you. I would offer my name, but I have forgotten it."

"I know," she replied, somewhat cryptically. "I think 'traveler' will do for now. You wished to visit the Human Village, yes?"

"I did. I was hoping that seeing other humans might jog my memory somewhat."

"Seeing as you are by far the most recent human from the outside world to come here, you probably would not recognize anyone in the Village. But you are free to stay there, if you would like."

"If you would be so kind. I do plan on talking to a good number of the residents, if at all possible, and that might take a while."

"One slight problem," Marisa interjected. "He has magic in him now, thanks to a certain mansion-dwelling witch, and I'm not sure if his body will be able to make the trip. I know you can go in and out of the Forest in a matter of seconds, Keine, but he can't."

"That will not be a problem. I can come with you two and leach the excess magic out of him whilst you are in flight. We are a couple of hours away from the Human Village, by my estimate, so I should not need to do it often."

"We'll take your offer then." Marisa picked her broom up from where she had left it before she had sparred with Alice, mounted it, and gestured to me. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

I willingly obliged, and we began to ascend, Keine following seamlessly beside us as we picked up speed, Marisa holding onto her hat as it fluttered manically in the wind, until we had reached the velocity at which she wanted to travel. Once in a while, Keine would hold out her hand, and the small tinge of queasiness that crept into my mind would ease, leaving me able, for once, to enjoy the view. The fog had cleared, and now the sunlight was splattered across the treetops, the dew left behind by the fog sparkling in the illumination of the midday sun.

As the Forest began to grow sparse, an irregularly-aligned array of purple and white rooftops peeked out from behind the trees.

"Welcome to the Human Village," Keine said, beaming as the full extent of the residences came into full view. It was a loose collection of old, wooden houses, with people walking up and down the streets, chatting and playing as they went about their business. It was nothing like the world I had come from, for sure, but to see humans not engaged in conflict borne out of sheer boredom was heartwarming, to say the very least. Across the front of the shops was emblazoned the words "Kirisame-ya", and when I pointed that out to Marisa, she chuckled.

"That's owned by my father," she explained. "We don't talk that much. It feels like I don't really know him anymore."

"How come? Also, somehow, the image of you having a father seems strange to me."

"Why?" She sounded both amused and perplexed. "I am human, after all. Though you might not see me as one. Also, as to why I don't really talk to him…" Her voice drifted off, and she became lost in thought. I decided not to press the issue any further.

We made our landing at the edge of the cluster of houses, and I took in my surroundings. The smell of cooking permeated the air, which was to be expected, as we had descended near the back of a tavern. A cook emerged from the back door of the tavern, wiping his hands on his old, patched-up apron. Upon seeing the three of us, he hastily nodded in acknowledgement of our presence before hurrying away.

"Make yourself at home. We do not discriminate, and treat all visitors fairly. Though, if you happened to be a youkai, some of the residents might be more hesitant in coming up to you." Keine brought us into the tavern, greeting every single person who walked by, and receiving equally cheery replies from all of them.

"You seem to be famous here," I commented as Keine asked for a room for me. The owner of the tavern said my room would be "on the house", as thanks for some unknown favor Keine had done for him a while ago.

"I am the head of the only school in this village, so all the children, and thus their parents, know me well." We went upstairs and into my assigned room, a comfortable, cozy chamber populated by a large, fluffy bed and a slender, oaken worktable. Warm sunlight streamed in from the open windows, and from outside, I could hear the quiet chatter of a town that felt completely at peace with itself. A sudden wave of relief washed into me, and I couldn't help but smile as I peered out into the street. Keine and Marisa saw this, and smiled as well.

"If you would like, we can have lunch here in the tavern in an hour or so. I have something I need to take care of, so I leave him in your hands, Marisa."

"Of course." Keine departed, shutting the door with a quiet snap, leaving me and Marisa alone. Marisa came to the window, standing beside me, observing the people below as they milled about.

"It's a nice place," I offered. But Marisa seemed too fixated on something to reply, and as I followed her gaze, I noticed that across the street was the Kirisame-ya, the shop owned by Marisa's father. I almost felt tempted to ask about her relationship with her father again, but Marisa's stare suddenly hardened, and she turned away. Again, I thought it might be wiser to not follow up on it, and I willed my eyes to look elsewhere.

Lunch was served in a small room at the back of the tavern, where around twenty people were squeezed into half a dozen tables. The front of the room was reserved for visitors who wanted a quick drink in the middle of the day before going back to work, so we had to make do, sitting elbow to elbow on a set of stools that creaked with every slight shift of the body.

A plate of steamed fish, dressed in balsamic vinegar with sprouts tossed around it, was pushed in front of me. I could almost feel my salivary glands aching in anticipation as I pushed a slice into my mouth with as much grace as I could, but once the fresh, sharp saltiness of the fish touched my tongue, I knew I would do nothing but attempt to clean the contents of my plate for the next few minutes. Which, obviously, is what I proceeded to do.

Keine watched me eat with a mixture of cheerfulness and amusement. Even though I'd only just left Reimu's house this morning, it felt like I'd spent a couple of days in the Forest, with nothing but Marisa's mystery potion to sustain me. Perhaps it wasn't so strange – after all, magic was energy, as Marisa had said. And I was, in part thanks to Keine (though I didn't begrudge her at all for helping me out), totally drained of energy. This, of course, brought to mind the manner in which she had stopped the battle this morning, seemingly negating all the raw energy conjured by the two magicians as if, well, by magic.

"You look like you have something to ask." Keine leaned back on her chair and stared at me, her smile unwavering.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"Well, you've stopped eating, for one." Marisa chuckled as she shoved another bite of fish into her mouth. "I recommend eating the sprouts too, by the way. The way they crunch and give that bitter feeling to the fish is great. But go on."

"Well, this might sound rude, but…" I thought about how best to combine my thoughts into a few questions. "First off, not everyone here is human, right?"

"Depends on the time of day. Also depends on what shops are open – I know a certain ice fairy has a taste for the water-flavored shaved ice sold by the shop next door."

"Water-flavored shaved ice?" I scratched my head. "Isn't that just… shaved ice? Without flavoring?"

"Does that really surprise you?" Marisa laughed. "How many ice fairies do you know of that would be dumb enough to buy that stuff?"

The image of a snoring figure, spread-eagle on a straw mattress, popped into my head. I snorted.

"More youkai come here than you might expect. Most of them keep themselves disguised, however. There is a certain… distrust between humans and youkai, as there always has been. Youkai are humanoid, but they are not really human, as you are aware. On the other hand, all youkai can use magic, but many humans cannot. Hence the reluctance of most humans to accept non-humans into the Village, even if they come with only good intentions in mind."

"I think that is just how humans are in general. We are not a very trusting species."

"Well, if you cannot trust even each other, how can you trust things that are totally different from you?" Keine gave a half-shrug. "It is what it is. The mandate of this village is peace, but in order for the humans to feel at peace, some things must be compromised. On occasion, I have had to go to certain lengths to conceal the existence of this place to the rest of Gensokyo, so that even those who know where it is cannot find it."

"That brings me to my second question." I cleared my throat. "You're not actually human, are you?"

"Again, that depends on the time of day." She paused. "As you see me now, I am fully human. At least, this form is, for all intents and purposes, human. When necessary, however, I can turn into a more powerful form."

"Like a werewolf?"

"Close, but not quite. I am a were-hakutaku. My other form is also essentially humanoid, but the hat I have on," she pointed to her head, "has to come off, because horns will sprout from there."

"What kinds of powers do those horns give you?"

"Well, the horns themselves do not contain any power, as you might have guessed. But my specialty is magic involving history – I can consume and conceal events that have occurred, so that they may as well not have occurred at all. In my hakutaku form, I can generate past events, so that the present is altered by the changes I make."

"So that's how you ended the battle between Marisa and Alice so quickly."

"Correct. I simply erased any signs of the battle occurring, up to and including the moment you were almost engulfed by Marisa's rather irresponsible flame-throwing." Keine's smile froze, and she glared at Marisa. Marisa choked slightly on the piece of fish in her mouth, and looked away quickly. "The memories of each individual, however, are not erased, only the physical events themselves. Which is why you still have any recollection of the fight happening."

"That seems like a very powerful ability to have. Is it in any way related to Sakuya Izayoi's?" I repeated a name I had heard during one of Reimu's explanations of the Scarlet Devil Mansion's myriad mysteries.

"It is, well noted. But that is a dangerous name to utter here."

"It is? Why so?"

"Sakuya Izayoi is human on the surface, but she is not one of us. The fact that she works at the Scarlet Devil Mansion says as much. I have heard rumors that they prepare human food there."

"Human food? This is human food, isn't it?" I waved at the half-eaten plate of fish in front of me.

"No, traveler. Humans as food. The Mansion is run by vampires, lest you forget. They also put human blood in their tea."

I unwittingly put a hand to my throat. I remembered having a peculiar cup of tea during my visit to the Mansion. Was the tangy bitterness of the tea due to citrus, or was it due to blood? Somehow, I wasn't as disgusted as I thought I would be, but my discomfort still showed, and Keine caught on to it.

"Have you been to the Mansion?"

I nodded. "Patchouli gave me magical abilities, apparently, or so Marisa says."

"I told you about this earlier, Keine," Marisa added. "It's the reason why you had to come with us in the first place."

"Of course. I was just wondering if he had been in the Mansion proper."

"I have. I met Patchouli Knowledge, who was very kind to me. Before that…"

"Before that?"

I frowned. What did I do before then? I remembered being in the library with Patchouli Knowledge, and reading from the tome of magic. But how did I get there in the first place?

Keine and Marisa looked at each other.

"This is somewhat concerning," Keine said. "You don't remember what you did in the Mansion?"

"I feel like there's a giant gap in my memory somewhere. I remember one distinct event, but nothing prior. The transition into that event has been cut off."

"Your memory may have been wiped," Marisa suggested. "By Remilia, or by some other member of the Mansion. Maybe even Patchouli. In either case, something may have happened that they don't want you to remember."

But what? It all seemed strange. Even as I racked my brains, seeking to plug the newly-found gap in my mind, I wondered what could have been done that would have required my memories of it to be erased. What would Remilia Scarlet, one of the most powerful beings in Gensokyo, want to hide from me?

"What seems stranger," Keine added, as if reading my train my thought, "is that you were not immediately turned into a food supply for those vampires. The Scarlet sisters are childish in nature, and I think they would not let up a good meal."

"They're not that bad," Marisa assured her. "Remilia might be a vampire, but she treats her guests well. As does Sakuya."

"I believe you. You and Reimu know her better than I do, Reimu in particular. I just have my doubts, as you might understand." She coughed loudly. "Anyway, this is not the best table conversation. If you have any questions about the Village or other places within Gensokyo, you are free to ask."

"Then I suppose I have one last question, though, like many questions I've had since I've come here, I'm only really expecting a vague reply." I leaned in. "Is there any way to leave Gensokyo?"

I was expecting Keine to tell me that, once again, it depended on the time of day, or some other uncertain half-answer. Instead, Keine pushed a couple of silver strands out of her eyes, and looked at me as if I had asked the most obvious question in the world.

"Yes, of course. Why?"

My ears couldn't believe what they'd just heard.

"So… how? It feels like ever since I got here, everyone has been telling me that it's impossible."

"That's because most of the denizens of this world have an incorrect view of the reality they are living in. It is the only world they know, after all – they would have no reason to think in any other way."

"What do you mean by that? This seems plenty real to me."

"Exactly. So, tell me. Why do you not remember how you got here?"

My first assumption upon arriving at the Scarlet Devil Mansion had been that the amount of magic used to transport me here had scrambled my mind, rendering my memories of the journey between the two worlds null and void. But if that were the case, surely, I would still remember the events that occurred up to and including my entrance into the Mansion, no matter how insignificant they were.

Could it be that Remilia Scarlet had sought to erase my memories of certain parts of the Mansion? That wouldn't make much sense, especially since I was allowed access to one of the Mansion's most closely-guarded areas: the Mansion Library. After all, there was little else in Gensokyo, as far as I was aware, that might be as dangerous and game-changing for the realm as the Library's forbidden literature. Additionally, I was hardly important enough that they might seek to ensure I did not remember certain parts of the Mansion. As a previously non-magic human, there was little I could do with the information.

"What you are experiencing now is what all the humans who are here have experienced upon arriving here. They do not remember how they got here, only that they are here. Does that seem like a familiar phenomenon to you?"

My eyes lit up.

"Of course," I replied. "It's as if I were dreaming."

"Correct. When you dream, you never remember how you arrive at the location your mind has taken you to, only that you are there."

"So, you are saying that this is all a dream? That seems unusually convenient to me."

"Not quite, although it is true that that would be very convenient. The body you have right now is your real one – you are not sleeping somewhere else outside of Gensokyo. However, your mind, like the minds of all the humans here, is still bound dimensionally to the outside world. It may be to an object, it may be to an event, it may even be to another human. But as long as whatever ties you to the outside world is not triggered or altered, your body, mind and soul will remain here. That is the architecture of the Great Hakurei Barrier, whose guardian you have met recently."

"So, something in the outside world needs to be done in order to pull me back out?"

"That is correct."

"But I have no recollection of anything that I did in the outside world. How will I ever leave?"

Keine's smile dipped slightly. "I never said it would be easy. Time passes much more slowly here than it does outside. Potentially, you might grow old or even die before the rope tying you to the outside world is pulled."

My shoulders fell. It felt as if all the cautious hope I had been building since I had left the Mansion, my optimism after meeting the friendly Reimu, the somewhat lunatic Cirno, and the sanguine Marisa, had been drained away in an instant. It wasn't as if I had any great desire to leave, yet somehow, hearing Keine speak of my departure from a place that was completely alien to me as something that was completely beyond my control was… disheartening.

"This is why I recommended you stay in the Human Village earlier," Keine continued. "None of the humans here know when they might be made to leave, and you are no exception. So they have all made their lives here, in the Village, waiting either for return or for death."

"Has anyone ever been recalled to the outside world in your time here?"

"People have disappeared, but I suspect that is more down to youkai activity than anything else. So, to my knowledge, I would say no."

"But…" I bit my lip, desperately trying to convince myself that Keine might not have thought of some other method of traversal between the worlds. "What you say is just a theory, isn't it? How do you know that that's the case?"

"Traveler, my ability is the creation and destruction of the history of Gensokyo. I know everything that has transpired here, even if I do not tell most people."

"Then can you tell me about the exact moment that I got here? Or is that beyond even your purview?" I knew that I sounded somewhat petulant, but I needed as much information as I could get. My mind raced as I waited for Keine's answer.

Unfortunately, I had paid the price for my impatience. Keine's entire figure stiffened.

"I am not at ease to tell you, traveler." And before I could utter another word, she was out of the door.

For a moment, Marisa and I sat in silence.

"That's not good," Marisa finally quipped.

"You're right." I sighed. "I was a little desperate. Maybe I should apologize."

"I'm not talking about you pissing Keine off. I probably would've said the same stuff." She stuck a bamboo toothpick in her mouth. "Keine is a schoolteacher, so she's used to people being a little brattier."

"I must've said something really bad then." I puckered my lips and sighed again.

"No, far from it." Marisa brought her head close to me and began to whisper.

"Between you and me… she only ever does that if she doesn't know the answer to a question."

In the modern human world, there was supposedly no shortage of things to do. I didn't remember much about what I used to do, but I could at least remember recreational activities like shopping, fishing, or even playing the odd video game on a computer. These were things people could do in their spare time - if they had the luxury to do so, at least.

That night, I lay on my bed, tossing the dead smartphone I carried with me at all times into the air. Occasionally, it would slip through my fingers and slam onto the tip of my nose painfully, but that didn't discourage me from continuing to throw it. After all, I was in a world where, when the lights went off – and they went off very early, considering there was little to no light in the streets, so everyone stayed home – there was absolutely nothing to do.

In short, I was struck by one of the most basic of human emotions, one that has been the driver of many a reckless act over the course of human history: boredom. In a twisted kind of way, I could now understand why the magic users of Gensokyo fought with each other so much. There was a giant power vacuum in the realm, and out of the sheer boredom of daily life, the youkai, fairies, and other beings of magic could do naught but attempt to fill it as best as they could. Conflict was generated from the smallest disagreements, and over time, short tempers understandably became the norm. Despite this, many of the more powerful magic users maintained some semblance of courtesy, observing the niceties of guest-greeting, never shirking what they thought their duties entailed, and generally striving to keep the peace. This seemed harder to do than most might think, especially if, as Marisa told me, magic was something that built up over time, bubbling and bubbling inside you, scratching on the walls inside your skull, begging for release. In a sense, magic was both a gift and a curse, especially if you were trapped inside the confines of a realm that, though inexpressibly massive in scale, still felt limited nonetheless.

Which led to another question: where did the realm actually end? Where were its boundaries? I regretted not asking Reimu or Keine whilst I still had the chance, though I knew they would welcome any questions I posed to them. That is, if I ever remembered to ask.

There was a light knock on the door. Marisa came in, carrying her broom, lantern attached and lit.

"I'm returning home, traveler," she said. "Keine will take good care of you – she's not one to throw tantrums for long."

"Thank you." I got out of bed, thinking it would be unbecoming of me to not see her off. "I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"I haven't done anything, really. Just returning a favor for a friend. After all, I did take her kettle."

"I think you should give it back, then. Since the favor is done."

Marisa giggled, her cheery face flushed under the blue moonlight pooling into my room. "She'll have to fight me for it."

"Of course she will." I patted her on the shoulder. Her frame was surprisingly slim under her large dress, and I could feel the thin outline of her collarbone under my fingers. "I hope I'll see you again."

"What do you mean by that?" Marisa blushed, and looked at me shyly.

"Nothing in particular. I just want to know as many people as I can. I might be here for a long time, after all."

"I see. That's true, you might be." She gave a light chuckle, though she sounded more relieved than entertained. "I will check in once I finish making the next batch of potions. Don't get into anything serious while I'm gone."

"There's really not much I can do, if I'll be honest. You still haven't taught me any magic yet."

"I'm sorry about that, I know I was caught up in fighting Alice. I'll give you a lesson once I come back. Deal?"

"It's a promise." Marisa nodded and smiled again, before turning and disappearing down the corridor.

I returned to my bed, plopping on the coarse, but still soft, cotton mattress. Before I knew it, I had passed in and out of the world of slumber, and my eyes opened to the low hum of chatter on the streets outside once again. I decided it would be best if I went and took my first look at life in this town, and so, after a quick dip in the tavern's small bath and a change into the clothes that the tavern had generously provided me – a loosely-flowing yukata that freed me from the jacket, shirt and trousers that I had been wearing all this time, as well as a pair of blocky bamboo sandals to ease my boots-bound feet – I took my first steps into the village proper.

The rows of houses and shops were not very neatly aligned, but they were close enough together that any space not taken up by them automatically became the streets through which people walked. The ground was the same dirt and soil that carpeted the rest of Gensokyo, but it had been packed into a dense, almost tar-like flooring by the many sandals and shoes that stepped up and down these roads, making my walk a much more comfortable one than expected. The houses themselves were wood and bamboo, the walls mostly painted white or left in their natural coloring, while the rooftops were painted a light hue of mauve, though where the painters obtained such a strange color from, I could only guess.

At the center of one of the crossroads stood a giant statue, a cubical rock monolith with the carved features of a resplendent dragon coiled around its topmost corners. Though its scales and claws were made of the same rock that formed the rest of the statue's base, its eyes were instead made from some kind of gem that, reflecting the clear sky's color, shone a vibrant azure. I stopped to admire the handiwork of the sculpture, and made ready to walk down the street to the left, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

I turned to find a bright-eyed young girl with short, puffy brown hair looking up at me. She wore a loose yellow apron bearing a name, which I assumed to be hers, and clutched a hardcover book in her arms. As I took in her petite yet confident-looking demeanor, she smiled.

"You're Miss Motoori?" I asked, motioning towards the name stitched onto her apron.

"Kosuzu Motoori, at your service." She beamed. "Welcome to our village. I hope you'll find it to your liking."

"I'm already impressed." I waved at the dragon statue behind me. "I feel like I'll have a lot to see and do in the coming weeks."

"That's good to hear. However, you will need money if you want to live here permanently. I understand Keine Kamishirasawa is helping to pay for your boarding right now, but eventually you'd like to earn your own bread, right?"

"Although I do have my wallet with me, I'm not sure the currency I have would be accepted here. So, you're not wrong. What kind of work can I do?"

"As it happens, our book rental store has a vacancy – one of our workers had to leave in order to take care of some family matters. It doesn't entail much, and you will have time to walk around if the shop isn't busy. What do you think?"

It seemed like as good an offer as I could get. I wasn't too fond of menial labor, so helping to run a book renter sounded like the perfect occupation for me, especially since I would be in close contact with some of the literature of this world. "If you'll take me, then I'll gladly accept."

I didn't know it was possible for a smile as bright as hers to grow even brighter, but it did. "Come with me then. I'll tell my parents that you're here."

We soon found ourselves at the book rental, only a couple of blocks away from the dragon statue, with had the word "Suzunaan" printed on a sign nailed to the front of the shop. I pushed past the door curtain and was immediately greeted by thick, musty air, and the smell of old leather and dry wood. The books were stacked neatly across a variety of shelves pushed against the walls, and the center of the shop was where the shopkeeper sat, a small wooden chair tucked into a worktable not dissimilar to the one in my room. But what interested me the most was what was stationed on top of the table. It was a gramophone, a relic of an era not too far back from my own. I put a hand on the smartphone in my pocket – patting it had become something of a ritual for me, and now that I had set eyes on a second object from the outside world, it only seemed appropriate to acknowledge the first.

Kosuzu went upstairs to tell her parents that she had found a new worker, and I was left alone in the shop for all of five seconds. The door curtain rustled behind me, and yet another girl in a frilly dress, with an ochre vest draped over her shoulders and a laced obi on her waist, entered.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You're the new face."

"I am indeed. What's your name?"

Before she had a chance to reply, Kosuzu had come rushing down the stairs, her face lighting up upon seeing the visitor.

"Akyuu! You're back!"

"Sure am. I had a few things to take care of."

"You mean about the Tupai?"

"What, Reimu's pet? I've already handed it over to the Scarlets. They'll take care of it."

"That's good. Oh! I forgot to introduce you, traveler. This is Akyuu of the Hieda family, Hieda no Akyuu."

"Akyuu is fine. I don't suppose you have a name?"

"We all have names, but I've forgotten mine." I smiled apologetically.

"Akyuu's a very good author," Kosuzu said with a hint of pride. "She's helping write the Gensokyo Chronicles, which is basically an encyclopedia about Gensokyo. Akyuu's family have been writing the Chronicles for generations. If you like, I can lend you some of the earlier volumes of the book later."

"That would be tremendously helpful. I'll also look forward to reading your contribution to the Chronicles, Akyuu. When you're done with them, at least."

"It would be my pleasure. Kosuzu, I need your help with something. Could you come with me for a moment?"

"Sure. Traveler, you watch the shop, okay? I'll be back soon."

Kosuzu and Akyuu left, and I took my seat in the center of the store. I could see the feet of people passing by under the hem of the door curtain, but no one seemed interested enough to approach or enter. Which suited me just fine – I was content to simply explore the repertoire of texts that this shop held.

I picked at random from one of the book piles, and flipped it open, scanning the pages. Though the language of the book was unfamiliar to me, I could tell from the many pictures supplied that it was a book on the botany of Gensokyo. I put the book down and picked up another one.

To my great surprise, this book was written in Japanese. Modern Japanese, not the more archaic version I had become used to seeing in Gensokyo. What was more, it was a book on recent history – it described the Lost Decade of the 1990s, when Japan fell into a years-long recession following the bursting of the asset bubble in 1991. I glanced at the front and back covers, and ran a finger on the binding. It was a very new book, the plastic on the covers unblemished and glimmering in the reflection of the bright yellow ground outside.

Just how much of the outside world made it into Gensokyo? How often did they pass through the Barrier? And were objects, like humans, tied to the outside world, and somehow destined to return? Or would they remain here forever? My collection of questions that might remain unanswered grew ever larger, to the point that I felt the need to deem some of them unnecessary, in order to prevent my mind from turning too quickly, spun round and round endlessly by my insatiable curiosity. I knew then that I would not rest until the inner workings of the Barrier separating our worlds became apparent to me. And once I figured that out, I would begin to set about finding a way to leave, or meet my demise in the process, whether that came tomorrow, in a year, or in the decades to follow.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since I had arrived at the Village. I had gradually grown accustomed to my way of life there, getting to know many of the other humans who worked nearby, like the kindly tofu shop owner who would occasionally stop by to rent one of the older examples of classical literature the store had on display, handing me a pack of dried tofu as thanks before leaving, or the carpenters from across the street who sometimes sat at the porch in front of the shop, chatting to Kosuzu and drinking as they sought brief respite from the sun beating down upon their backs. Seasons in Gensokyo worked as they did in the outside world, and as it was now summer, yukatas and longer-sleeved clothing never stayed on for very long. I came to learn that the name of the store, Suzunaan, meant "bell hermitage", and though its origins were unknown to Kosuzu, I noted that her name and the name of the store shared a common feature, namely "suzu", or the word for "bell" in Japanese.

I tried as best as I could to survey my fellow humans on how long they had been here and how they became used to life in Gensokyo, but all of them reported the same thing: that they had simply found themselves here, with no recollection on how they had come here in the first place, and no memories of their previous lives in the outside world. They were either plucked from whatever danger they were found in by Keine or some other magical human, or they simply awoke one day in a house or tavern in the Village, and, with no other alternative available to them, stayed and settled in. There were no people from my time, however – the majority of them were from some age centuries past, even if they appeared to be around the same age as I was. From this, I surmised that the timeline of the outside world was indeed completely separate from that of Gensokyo, as there was evidently little to no correlation between how time here and time outside operated, even if the sun still did its rounds every 24 hours and the seasons changed every few months, like we all knew them to do.

A week into my tenure at the store, a completely new face brushed past the door curtains and entered. It was early in the afternoon, and I was, as usual, deeply engrossed in a randomly chosen piece of literature. Suzunaan dealt mainly in books that had been sucked in from the outside world, and I was keen to witness for myself the full breadth of what the store had to offer. A hard rap on the table, however, jolted me back to my senses.

"I apologize," I said quickly, putting the book down and standing to greet the newcomer. "How can I help?"

"May I ask if Kosuzu is in?" Facing me was a pretty young girl in a light brown robe, a checkered scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, with cropped magenta hair covered by a sprawling green hat, in turn ornamented by a couple of large bells. The bells jangled loudly as she moved – it was a surprise that I had not heard her come in. A pair of horn-rimmed half-spectacles framing her two large eyes completed the picture, of which the eyes were in turn topped by two soft, widely-spread lashes.

"Kosuzu went to run an errand. You're welcome to wait for her here."

"Then I shall do so." She took a seat in the corner of the store near the entrance, leaning nonchalantly on the wall as she gazed at me. "You must be the new human."

"New human?" I took a second look at her. What she said seemed to insinuate that she was not human herself, though she looked plenty human to me. Looks, as always, could be very deceiving.

"You arrived here a week ago. You are the newest human here," she repeated matter-of-factly.

"I… haven't seen you before. I was surprised."

"No one here has seen me before," she replied enigmatically. But before I could ask for clarification, Kosuzu made her return.

"Mamizou!" she exclaimed upon seeing the bespectacled maiden.

"Welcome back, Kosuzu. I hope you've been well."

"I have. Are you looking for books on youkai again?"

"Not this time, actually." Mamizou stood up. "The head of the Temple would like a favor."

"Is there a special kind of book she needs?"

"Special kinds in plural, you might say. She is planning a lesson on rituals of the dharma based on the teachings of the outside world, so she will be needing all the volumes of the Dharmasastra that you have, as well as some Buddhist hymn journals for the students to follow. Any versions will suffice."

Kosuzu thought for a moment. "If you really want everything we have, that might add up to more than sixty tomes."

"It is no matter. I have brought sufficient money."

"That's not the problem, I could lend them to you for free if you wanted. I just worry about how you're going to carry them."

"Then could you come with me? You are correct in that I may need an extra pair of hands."

"What if the traveler came with you? I'm not really that strong." Kosuzu winked at me playfully. "You don't mind, right?"

"Of course not. I can carry a few dozen books. Though, it depends where we're headed."

"It might be a long walk, so I hope you have readied yourself for it." Mamizou brushed the dust off her robe. "How much will it be? I would like to pay you nevertheless."

"Half price for you, if you insist on paying. That'll be a hundred copper pieces." Kosuzu immediately set about looking for the books that Mamizou needed. As she busied herself, Mamizou rummaged into her pockets and pulled out a sizeable bag of copper pieces, placing it down with a satisfyingly loud thud.

Kosuzu plopped the last of the books onto the tall pile of books that had collected on the worktable. "That should be all. I don't think I'm missing any."

"I trust in your abilities." Mamizou brandished two large wool sacks and handed one of them to me. She and I began filling the sacks, and soon they were full to the brim with tomes. I soon found that they were somewhat heavier than they looked – however, I quickly got used to the weight. Though Mamizou appeared to picked the other one up with ease, I could see that her arm was shaking.

"Shall we get going?"

Mamizou winced slightly, and nodded.

As we left the shop to Kosuzu's cheery waving, I said, "You might find it easier if you put it over your shoulder."

"Worry not, human. It will be easier for me once we put some distance between us and the village."

"How so?"

She did not utter another word until we were out of the village borders, and into the mess of trees and shrubs that fenced the Village off from the rest of Gensokyo. Then, the moment the Village vanished between the thicket behind us, Mamizou transformed.

Although I wasn't surprised that she wasn't actually human, I was nonetheless taken aback by her sudden change. A giant, fluffy mass emerged from underneath her robe, a thick, furry tail that was striped white and dark brown. The tail grew until it was as long as Mamizou was tall, curling around itself and slapping the grass, reveling in its newfound freedom. A pair of equally fuzzy black ears sprouted from under her heat, peeking out from under the hem and twitching expectantly, taking in the high-pitched hum of the whistling wind.

Mamizou herself seemed unfazed by the newly-added weight of her tail, and in fact seemed stronger for it: as I watched, she whirled the bag of books around her elbow as if it were a toy. The bag now felt even heavier on my shoulder, and Mamizou knew it as she looked back at me.

"Heavier than it looks, is it not?" she said, poking my bag with her tail.

"I'm fine," I replied curtly. She laughed, and we moved on.

The walk, though it came with a soothing breeze and a brief break on the banks of a stream for water, still took the better part of two or three hours. Just as I thought my shoulder bones might dislocate, we abruptly came to a set of wide marble stairs. In all fairness, I had been looking at the ground, focusing all my energy on keeping the bag of books on my shoulder, so I did not see the true scale of the impressive structure that now greeted us.

The roof of the building was studded with blue, blade-like eaves, jutting upwards, pointing towards the clouds. The entrance's overhang was topped by a stark white gable, and its apex was crowned by jade ridges that sloped delicately onto the rakes. Rows of wooden brackets atop the pillars twined and twisted around each other, pushing against the underbelly of the roof. In a way, the whole structure reminded me of a great crane perched upon a series of columns, the passerine's claws grasping its stand firmly as it stretched its magnificent wings out towards the sky, peering down at us as we made our way up the steps. An array of red flags, fluttering into the afternoon breeze, lined the sides of the steps, and a pair of large banners were held aloft by the two stanchions closest to the stairs - one of them proudly bore the words, "Myouren Temple".

As we reached the top of the steps, a figure swept out from the entrance, holding a circular bamboo hat against her head as she smiled at us. She had long, flowing orchid-colored hair that shifted into a bright orange, yellowing at the tips. A necklace of massive jade beads fell around her neck and shoulders, and the crisscrossing laces that pulled the sides of her open dress together were mirrored on top of the tongue of her tall black boots.

"We have returned," called Mamizou, in a well-concerted effort to state the obvious.

"I can see that." She took the bamboo hat off her head and bowed in greeting. "Welcome back, Mamizou Futatsuiwa. And you must be the traveler."

"'The traveler'?" I laughed at the moniker, though in truth, I was already growing used to being called by that name. "I am indeed a traveler. A human like any other."

"Be that as it may, you are already one of the best-traveled of the non-magical humans in the realm. Reimu has told me about you. She seems unexpectedly enthusiastic about you," she added, chuckling as she put a hand to her mouth.

"I imagine a shrine maiden can only have so much excitement in her life. Also, may I have your name?"

"I am Byakuren Hijiri - you may refer to me as Byakuren. I bid you welcome to the Myouren Temple. I am still somewhat human yet, so I hope you feel you are in good company here. We do have many youkai residents, after all."

"I have no fear of the youkai," I assured her.

"Good, you are one of the rare few humans who have shed their fear of them. Human and youkai must live together in peace here. That is the direction we must take, the path we must walk, if we are to achieve the cessation of pain and the goal of nirvana."

"You are Buddhist?"

"In a way, though I have realized that some tenets of the philosophy must be changed if we are to find peace. Nevertheless, I still perform my duties as a teacher of the faith. That is part of why you are here – I have been putting off the lessons that I regularly give, in order to assist in the capture of a troublesome youkai. I would have liked a more peaceful ending to that episode, but it was not to be." She suddenly appeared troubled, and looked away briefly. Then, her smile returned. "It is no matter. Come, traveler, I will show you where to put the books, then you are free to leave or stay for a while, whichever you please."

"I would like to stay for a cup of tea, if you have any." I wiped a trailing bead of sweat from my cheek.

"We have plenty of tea. Too much tea, in fact. I would even give you some tea leaves to take home, if you so desire."

"Then I will gladly accept your offer." I thus followed Mamizou and Byakuren into the cool darkness of the Temple's interior.

The guest room of the Temple was a simple, hollow expanse carved out of the rows of pillars and columns that propped the roof of the building up. It was a large chamber, but what furniture was present was few and far between: near the walls were various drawers upon which were placed scattered piles of hymns, incense sticks and dormant spell cards, whilst in the center was a table surrounded on all four sides by benches, one of which I now sat on. I took a sip of the tea, endeavoring not to make too loud of a noise – it was the middle of the afternoon, and the only sounds penetrating the still air were the faint chirps of cicadas inhabiting the trees that dotted the landscape around the base of the Temple. The tea was cool, minty and sweet, perhaps a little too sweet for my tastes, but nevertheless still a welcome refreshment in the dry heat of midsummer. It carried an undercurrent of spiciness that left my taste buds confused, but I cared little for such minor details provided my thirst was being quenched.

"The books have been distributed in the classroom, Byakuren," Mamizou said as she entered the guest room.

"Thank you, Mamizou," replied Byakuren, who sat opposite me. "I appreciate your help."

"I will look for Nue. She wanted to join us for dinner, did she not?"

"You are right, though dinner is still a few hours away. I think you will find Nue at the Mausoleum."

"Then I will go there. I will bring her back when the sun has set."

"Take your time." Byakuren waved, and Mamizou bowed in reply before departing the room. "Speaking of which, traveler, would you like to stay for dinner? We may have extras, depending on how many youkai will be back from their errands."

"I would hate to impose. Plus, I think Kosuzu might worry."

"Worry not, Kosuzu knows that I invite people over to dinner all the time. Being a committed user of magic, I do not require food for sustenance, but I still like to hold gatherings. Partly so I can recruit potential new students for my classes." Byakuren winked at me. "I hope you will join us tonight."

"If that's the case, then I will again accept your offer with grace."

"Excellent. Now, we should find some way of whittling the hours before dinner away. Is there anything in particular you would like to ask me?"

"I think so. You mentioned that you don't need food for sustenance? As in, you don't actually need to eat to survive?"

"Yes, I suppose that may have been confusing. I am a magician, and thus I am sustained by magic, and magic alone. The nutrients I require are conjured automatically as I utilize magic, though if I am not careful, I may be weakened considerably if I do not put enough thought into the process of conversion. It is the price I pay for abandoning that key facet of my humanity."

"Why did you become a magician? Was it in order to survive in Gensokyo?"

"In a way, but not simply for survival." Byakuren's features began to soften. "I have seen much during my time alive, traveler, and it is thanks to the magic that I have embraced that I am here to talk with you today. Advanced magic has the power not only to sustain, but to maintain, particularly with regards to the aging of the body. I may look in the prime of my youth, but in truth my age now reaches well into the hundreds, if not the thousands. I have not felt the need to keep count."

"Was there something in particular that drove you to try and become, well, immortal?"

"There was. I had a person very dear to me, whose name is lent to the Temple you are currently sitting inside. Myouren Hijiri was his name."

"Your brother?"

Byakuren nodded. "He was the one who taught me how to use magic. But the gods called, and he was cruelly snatched away, despite our best efforts to pull him back. I knew that in order to avoid the same fate, I would need to walk a different path from him, and so when I did find the answer, I was no longer myself, nor could I consider my material self human any more."

"Yet you still follow a human religion."

"My body may not be human any longer, but my spirit and my faith, tempered by the tribulations that I have faced, have guarded my humanity well. Even as my fellow humans cast me aside, and I took my place amongst the demons that humanity thought I had become, I knew that no rejection of my body could take away the fact that I had been born human, and as long as my mind remained sane, I could regularly remind myself of that."

I took in the slender, willowy figure that faced me as she continued to tell me of her history. Though it was a story that was punctured frequently by moments of great tragedy, her strength of will and keenness of mind had ensured that she never lost sight of herself or the reasons why she did what she did. I could now look upon her with a renewed, deeply-engraved sense of respect, one that I could never have felt for any of the other people that I had met thus far, even if they were more powerful or intelligent than Byakuren. I understood now why she chose to establish this temple as a safe haven for youkai – she felt that she might also be one of them, even if she still considered herself to be human. Though she had been an exterminator of youkai in her early days, she had come to honor them as beings who, too, could think and feel as we humans did, and shared the ground upon which we stood.

"The price for my transgressions regarding my covert defense and protection of the youkai was my banishment into a realm where only the strongest of youkai lived, called the Makai. I spent many years there, locked under an immensely strong seal, doomed never to return. It was a prison of the body, mind and soul, and an incarceration that I could not have survived without the magic that I had learned. I was punished for the crime of compassion." Though her words contained no bitterness, I could sense the faint sorrow and despair in her tone of voice as she spoke. "Ultimately, I was rescued by my disciples, a group of youkai whom I had protected whilst still free. They went to great lengths to save me, and they were granted a great deal of assistance by Reimu Hakurei, who also broke the seal that contained me."

That was an unexpected turn to the story. "I'm surprised to hear this about Reimu. She hadn't told me about that."

"Reimu is an exceedingly humble character. I owe her my life, but she still insists on giving me favors. I can only speak favorably of her, as well as the many youkai who came to my aid. Even if we did have a brief argument following my emancipation, and we ended up fighting for a little while."

"Fighting seems to be as normal as having a conversation for the magic users who live here. That's something I still have to get used to."

Byakuren laughed upon hearing my observation. "You are not wrong. Magic must be used regularly, or it will break free from the shell of its own accord. It is all around us, and it is within us. It is a boon in the right hands, a bane in the wrong ones."

We continued to make small talk, Byakuren telling me about the establishment of the Myouren Temple and how she had begun to accept all manner of youkai into her care, as well as a few humans who were willing to reside alongside youkai for the sake of following her teachings and living a life of asceticism. In turn, I told her about my travels, and the conundrum I had regarding the loss of my memories.

"It would not surprise me if Remilia Scarlet had your memory wiped," Byakuren said. "I am not familiar with the residents of the Mansion, but I know that it holds a great many secrets, some of which are probably known only to Remilia, as the head of the household."

"I remember meeting Patchouli Knowledge, and I was informed that Remilia Scarlet was the one who saved me, but I remember nothing about actually being helped. That's also something that concerns me."

"If your memories regarding those events are blurred but not completely erased, then there may be some way of restoring them. I can help you in that regard, but it might require you to stay here at the Temple for a week while we perform the necessary rites. You need not worry about your work at the bookstore – I will ask Mamizou to inform Kosuzu Motoori of your whereabouts."

"If you are willing to go that far to help me, then I can hardly refuse. I only wish there were some way for me to return the favor."

"Your gratitude is in itself a reward." Byakuren suddenly frowned. "Speaking of which, it is almost nightfall. Time really does fly when you are enjoying yourself with a companion."

I looked towards the entrance. The sky outside was now a deep purple, with a smattering of orange and red lighting up the clouds nearest to the horizon, just above the treetops.

"Mamizou is late. She should have found Nue Houjuu by now – Nue told me she would be at the Mausoleum."

"The Mausoleum?" I didn't recall seeing any structure in the vicinity other than the Myouren Temple.

"It is a structure that lies underneath the Temple. You see, the true form of this temple is actually a flying ship, one that I built for a youkai of the seas. In return, she used the ship to transport the group who came to free me from Makai. I prefer to keep the ship in the form of a temple, but it can be transformed back into its ship form should the need arise."

"A flying ship? I would never have guessed."

"That is the nature of the palanquin, for which the ship is named. Without its poles, a palanquin looks like a small temple, does it not?"

"You aren't wrong. So, how does one get to the Mausoleum?"

"Through the cemetery." She paused. "I think it would be best if you came with me. I have not introduced you to the other youkai yet, and I do not know how they might react to seeing such a new face within the temple grounds. You would be safer if you accompanied me to the Mausoleum."

A gust of wind blew into the guest room, raising a chill that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. The last vestiges of sunlight vanished under the blanket of night, and the world outside the lamplit guest room turned pitch black. I didn't know whether I would prefer to be alone in the light or with company in the darkness, but if there was anyone I could put my wholehearted trust in at the moment, it would be Byakuren Hijiri.

"Alright then," I said. "Lead the way."

Unlike during most nights in Gensokyo, the moon, surrounded by its distantly-watching cohort of stars, was not present to guide the way. Instead, under the great quilt of clouds that had moved in over the Myouren Temple, the only illumination present came from the dim flickering of the candlelit front lobby behind us, though it was quickly engulfed by fog, and the lantern that Byakuren held in her hand, swinging quietly as we walked, lighting up the dark green as we trailed off the main road and into the grass. The night was unexpectedly quiet, save for the barely audible shuffling of my shoes and Byakuren's sandals on the ground – even the wind, usually so ubiquitous and brash in its shuttling of Gensokyo's nighttime air, had deserted us behind the barrier of trees enclosing the Temple grounds.

After several minutes, the lantern revealed a low stone rampart in a state of considerable disrepair, a wall that now barely served its original purpose as it had crumbled and collapsed in many places. Byakuren and I hopped over one of the holes created by the wall's dilapidation, the magician doing so with far more grace than my near-tumbling over the scattered stones on the floor, and we found ourselves in what could only be described as a graveyard. Rows upon rows of tombstones were lined up as far as the lantern would allow us to see. The silhouettes of those markers of death formed both the foreground and backdrop of the landscape, with only a few trees, the pink-petaled flowers sprouting on their branches, and the deathly-still grass matting the cemetery floor carrying the only signs of life in the vicinity.

Byakuren lifted her lantern, bringing the group of branches above us into view. The petals appeared almost sickly in the yellow glow of the candle inside the lantern, and the branches that held them were thin and malnourished, but that wasn't what had attracted her attention. Instead, she was looking farther up, where a small cone-like object was lodged in between the branches, seemingly pointing downwards at us. To my great alarm, the object abruptly began to shake and expand into a circular form, making its way downwards at an accelerating pace.

Byakuren pulled a slip of meticulously-painted paper from her pocket and threw it into the air. She knuckled her index and middle fingers and jabbed at the paper as it flew towards the mystery object. At once, as the paper disintegrated, the entire tree exploded into a green flame, causing the object to suddenly screech and bounce off the tree trunk, landing in a deformed and quivering lump on the ground in front of us.

"I do not have time to play with you today, Kogasa Tatara," Byakuren said to the lump, in the manner of a stern teacher lecturing an unruly student.

The lump was lifted up, and a small, petite girl, who looked almost at the point of tears, emerged from under it. She had curly, turquoise hair that matched the color of one of her eyes, its opposing number being a shade of dark crimson. The vest she wore was also turquoise, as was the hue of the rest of her dress. Clearly, she had some sense of fashion, even if she apparently did not enjoy any other kind of common sense.

Byakuren clapped her hands together, and the flame that had coated the tree was immediately extinguished.

"That hurt, Byakuren!" exclaimed the girl. She picked up the still-trembling mass from the ground, and pulled on a stick protruding from it. As the mass coiled around the stick, I realized that what she held in her hands was actually a purple umbrella, with a strange, red tongue-like feature trailing from its folded canopy.

"I have a visitor with me today. He is a non-magical human, so I would suggest you save the games for later."

"I'm not playing! You have any idea how hungry I am?" Kogasa stamped her foot on the floor in frustration. "Why won't you let anyone get scared by me? You even had to tell the youkai at the Temple to look out for me!"

"My priority is the wellbeing of the residents of the Temple. Unless you choose to join us, I will continue to ensure that as little people fall prey to your antics as possible."

"That's why I won't join you!" Kogasa pointed at Byakuren. "You think I'm just a nuisance! Anyone who doesn't take me seriously doesn't deserve my attention! Hmph!"

"That is why you will always fail to scare people. You are petulant, and hence predictable."

I felt somewhat sorry for the little youkai now, so I decided to help her out.

"You really got me there, Kogasa. I was scared for a bit."

Kogasa's eyes widened, and she looked at me expectantly. "You were?"

"For sure! You didn't even make a sound when you were coming down. If Byakuren hadn't been here, I'd already have run away long ago."

A sparkle, visible even in the dark of the night, appeared in her mismatched irises.

"Hurray!" she cheered, and giggled. "I'm so happy I scared you, mister. It's been so long since someone said that to me. I feel full already. What's your name?"

"I don't remember. You can just call me 'the traveler', I suppose."

"What are you and Byakuren doing so late out, mister traveler?"

"We are looking for one of my associates," Byakuren cut in. "Would you happen to have seen anyone here?"

"Sure did. I saw a girl in glasses walk by a couple hours ago, but she was way too fast for me to scare."

"That must have been Mamizou. Have you not seen anyone else?"

"Nope. That's all that's been happening." Kogasa yawned. "I'm so bored. Wanna come hide with me, traveler?"

"Again, Kogasa, he is with me," Byakuren said stiffly.

"Oh well. I guess I'll come with you then." Kogasa reopened her umbrella, letting the pattern emblazoned on it come into full view. It was the face of a one-eyed monster, its glaring iris a bright scarlet, the same color as its jagged mouth and protruding tongue. A black rubbed ferrule capping the umbrella served as the eyebrow, wiggling and twisting as Kogasa threw the umbrella's canopy wide open.

"We'd hate to trouble you, Kogasa," I said hurriedly. It seemed odd that a youkai like her would want to follow a human, but then again, she was probably lonely, especially given that probably next to no one ever visited the cemetery. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to take my words the way I meant, and her smile instantly vanished, to be replaced by a frame of desperate sadness.

"I knew it," she muttered forlornly. "No one ever wants me to be with them. I'm totally worthless as a youkai, or even as a living being."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Everyone tells me the same thing, that I'm annoying to be around, or that I should go do something else. But what else can I do? Scaring people is all I'm good for, and I'm not even good at that!" She once again looked on the brink of breaking down and sobbing.

Byakuren sighed.

"You know what, Kogasa," she said as Kogasa's round eyes watered. "You are right. You are as worthless as you think you are."

"Byakuren! Please don't say that."

But just as Kogasa's petite features began to scrunch up, Byakuren continued.

"But that is why you should stop thinking that your life has no meaning, or that your only purpose in life is to shock others. Because if you believe something for long enough, it will become your reality."

I looked at Byakuren. She no longer looked frustrated or annoyed. Somehow, in the fading glow of the lantern, I could see that she was speaking from her many centuries of experience, her many years of facing a fate she sought to defy for as long as she possibly could.

Kogasa stopped pushing the tears from the sides of her eyes and looked up. Byakuren placed a hand on her head and drew her into her arms.

"Instead, believe that you can do something for yourself. Believe that you can make your own purpose, your own reason for living. Define your life by what you can do, not what you have done. That way, you can be at peace with yourself."

Kogasa sobbed for a few seconds into Byakuren's robe, Byakuren patiently patting her head as she poured out the last of her sorrow. When Kogasa drew her head away from Byakuren's embrace, her face was not one of despair, but one of a newfound defiance.

"Will you let me come to the Temple with you, Miss Hijiri?" she said, hiccupping quietly.

"Of course, but only if you promise to stop scaring people."

"But then how will I feed myself? I need to eat spirit energy to survive!"

"You need to practice being hungry. That is part of our way of life, the practice of austerity and self-denial."

"I don't think I'm ready for that right now." Kogasa twiddled her fingers shyly. "But could I… come to the Temple later?"

"The Myouren Temple is open to any person, at any time." Byakuren smiled. "For now, though, we should get going."

"Do you still want to come with us, for now?" I asked.

Kogasa nodded. "I'd have nothing to do otherwise. But where are you two going?"

"To the Great Mausoleum," Byakuren replied. "That is where I believe Mamizou should be."

Kogasa shivered. "I don't like that place. It's too big, and it's creepy at night."

"That seems little different from this cemetery, to be honest," I commented.

"I guess you're not wrong." Thus, Byakuren and I resumed our walk, with our cute new follower in tow.

As the fog closed in on our position, thickening and filling the air surrounding us until the lantern shone on naught but a dark gray mass around our heads, the floor beneath us began to slope gently downwards, carving a path of descent into the grass. The ground around us rose up and eased away, slowly leading us towards a recess that, strangely, seemed untouched by the dreary atmosphere of the rest of the cemetery – a carpet of red and purple flowers unfurled at our feet, and the harsh brushing of our soles against the grass abruptly became quiet, muffled by the parting of the petals as they bore our weight. The flowerbed seemed to catch whatever light was available to it, and it glowed with the quietest and darkest of hues, cutting through the gaps in the mist, guiding us ahead.

After a while, the flowers began to give way to small pebbles, sparse at first, but slowly collecting together closer and closer, until our footsteps were masked by the loud smacks of the little rocks as they were dislodged from their slumber, grumbling as they tumbled away. If our intent had been to make our approach as stealthily as possible, any notion of that was soon thrown out of the window.

By now, the floor had curved downwards sufficiently that our heads soon descended below ground level, and the very moment we were technically "underground", a large pair of wooden doors emerged from the fog. On them were the portraits of two rather stern-looking men, both swathed in long, meticulously-decorated robes, complemented by two similarly long, willowy black beards. They stared into the distance, guarding the entrance to what I surmised must be the Great Mausoleum. Their portraits were mirrored on either side of the door, separated by two tall banners that bore messages of welcome, though the tone of those messages was more cautionary than genial, as one might expect in a place such as this.

We came up to the door, and Byakuren rapped sharply on it. "Mamizou?" she called.

There was no response, but a barely audible rumble could be heard from the other side. Curious, I put my head to the door, and the rumble came again, this time louder in the canal of my ear. It sounded almost like water surging against the side of the door, and as Byakuren, motioning for me to step back, pushed the doors open, I saw why.

The outside of the structure, an elegantly but simply decorated doorway sculpted on the side of a small hole, made the Mausoleum out to be a little chamber dug out in the ground, hastily assembled, sealed, and left to house whatever it was meant to house. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The slope continued past the doorway, but, inexplicably, at the base of the slope, waves of water pushed up against the stones, seeping between the cracks, creeping upwards until they stopped at our toes, before retreating into the darkness, then repeating the process over and over again.

"An aquifer?" I asked.

"Not quite." Byakuren lifted the lantern and extended it past the open doors.

The water, whose full extent I now laid eyes upon, continued on for what seemed like miles, disappearing into the night sky. I say "sky" because that is what it seemed like, but when I looked at the hill ascending above the top of the doorway, it was clear that the great spectacle that I beheld was completely underground.

Byakuren noticed my confusion, and hastily provided an explanation.

"You will perhaps remember that I told you the Temple's true form was the Palanquin Ship. Well, when I set the ship down at its current location, it was right on top of this area that you see before you. The transformation of the ship into its smaller temple form caused a stretching of the space underneath the Temple, generating an enclave within which the Mausoleum could be safely housed."

I took a few steps back and looked above the doorway, squinting into the foggy darkness. Sure enough, I could see the blades of the Myouren Temple poking out from behind the rocky arch atop the entrance to the Mausoleum.

We came to the water's edge. Just as it appeared as if Byakuren, who took a further step forward, was going to soak her sandals in the water, a bridge materialized on top of the water's surface, so thin and translucent as to be part of the water itself – I would not have noticed its appearance if the water around it had not been displaced, sloshing against the side of the bridge as it rose, meeting Byakuren's outreached foot with a light splash. Kogasa and I apprehensively followed Byakuren onto the walkway.

As we made our way through the great lake – for that was what it seemed to be, a lake that reached farther than the naked eye could see – ripples began to approach us from all sides. Upon closer inspection, I found that they were lotuses, not so close together as to be a swarm, but in dense enough groups that to the casual observer, they might have been the scales on the hump of a water creature submerged beneath the great mirror atop the water. Just as the lotuses began to bump against the bridge's walls, caressing the glass-like material as they floated curiously around us, a silhouette, dark enough that it blended into the night of the dome's interior until we were sufficiently close, loomed into view.

As the fierce blue and black of the false sky was obscured by the towering shadow of the Mausoleum, the bridge formed into rows of cloudy steps, unfolding as we ascended towards the small door situated at the base of the spire. the Mausoleum itself was of a simple design, columns of wood and stone slotting into each other and rising as high as the eye could see in the dark. The base was a clean, octagonal stone slab, and as we stepped onto the slab, the bridge behind us simply disappeared, leaving naught but the still water and the light ripples created by the lotuses as they disappeared into the distance.

Byakuren knocked on the door. "Mamizou?" she called again. Once more, there was no answer.

Byakuren pushed the door open. A wash of blue light greeted us, this one of a darker hue than the azure that coated the inside of the dome, but still vibrant nonetheless. I peered into the near-darkness, and what I saw took my breath away.

There were balls of light of varying colors and sizes slowly rotating around an invisible axis in the center of the Mausoleum, which, as it turned out, was a giant hollow cylinder stretching upwards into the "sky". The balls were like stars that had lost their warmth and power, and were now simply dead or dying husks of their former selves, still straining to produce whatever light they could muster in honor of their past glories. The smaller balls were pinpricks that matted the backdrop of the scene like real stars in a real sky; the larger balls, pulsating wisps of multi-colored illumination, strolled up and down and around, as if they were people taking walks in a park that reached in all directions. And indeed, as Byakuren was quick to point out, every single light that I saw here was a soul, a former resident of Gensokyo that had passed on, their life's lights being housed in the confines of the Mausoleum for all eternity as a reminder that they had once existed, even if the world outside Gensokyo did not know it. It was sobering, in a way, but also undoubtedly beautiful.

"Mamizou?" Byakuren yelled. Her call echoed around the vast, empty expanse, but the souls continued to spin, unperturbed by the new and very much alive presences in the vicinity.

This time, however, there was a reply.

"My, my," said the voice, which was neither Nue's nor Mamizou's. "You could wake the dead yelling like that, Byakuren Hijiri."

A look of shock passed over Byakuren's face. "You are not supposed to be here. I thought you had left this realm."

"You are not welcome here," Byakuren said stiffly. "Where are Mamizou and Nue?"

"Oh, those two?" said the voice, which we now saw belonged to a fox-eared maiden, floating casually in the air as she spoke. "They weren't so keen on letting me stay, so I had to put them to sleep for a little while. Don't worry, they're not hurt in any way, just sleeping."

Byakuren lifted a spell card from inside her robe and flung it into the air, clapping her hands together. When her hands were drawn apart, a globe of swirling light appeared between her palms.

"You will not get off lightly for laying your hands on my charges," she warned as the circle of energy lashed out angrily, hurling towards the maiden. The maiden laughed and batted the light away.

"Despite the noble front you put up all the time, you really have no sense of decorum, Byakuren Hijiri. But then again, we were never going to get along anyway."

"That is through no fault of mine, Toyosatomimi no Miko."

Miko chuckled, and pulled a sword from the scabbard on her belt, a silver blade with a spiked orb installed on the pommel. The orb glowed a blazing orange, dwarfing the weak glows of the souls behind her. The spikes on the orb, jutting out like rays of light emanating from a star, began to warp in the sheer heat of the orb's power.

"So be it."

An ethereal force shoved me out of the way as a ball of light came barreling towards me and Kogasa. It sailed down the steps behind me and struck the water, exploding upon contact and sending a light spray over our heads, the quiet pattering as the water fell on us a fitting introduction for the cacophony that was to come.

Byakuren, who had pushed me aside with the help of one of her many spell cards, stretched her hand out again. At once, a shimmering clear mass grew quickly from the ground, shrouding me and Kogasa in a domed barrier of pure, pulsating energy.

"Leave this to me," she intoned.

"Ooh, scary," Toyosatomimi no Miko called out mockingly as she soared into the dark air of the tower's interior, spinning giddily as she easily dodged Byakuren's flurry of flying spell cards. Her sword glowed, and another sphere came rocketing downwards, gaining in velocity as it hurtled mindlessly towards the floor.

Byakuren threw her arms out and drew a circle in the air. As her arms crossed, another shield of light materialized, spreading until it covered the entire entrance, and all we could see from inside our own personal barrier was an intricate web of fine threads and archaic runes, humming audibly with unknown energies, built upon the accumulated knowledge of centuries of magical defensive training.

The orb on the base of Miko's sword now took on the appearance of a small sun as she swung her blade down on Byakuren's shield. Upon impact, the barrier's chaotic form exploded, sending shockwaves reverberating through the blinding fibers until they snapped, weakening and fizzing out as the force of Miko's attack overwhelmed both them and Byakuren herself. Byakuren was flung bodily from atop the steps, crumpling onto the transparent bridge still shimmering above the water.

"Byakuren!" yelled Kogasa, who, now that the barrier protecting us had also dissipated, rushed over to Byakuren's side, turning her over onto her back. A trail of blood leaked from the beautiful strands of purple hair, now partly dyed a deep, angry crimson.

I also clambered down the steps, standing over the limp form of my host as Kogasa buried her face into Byakuren's bosom, weeping quietly.

"She won't be awake for a while yet," said the singsong, taunting voice behind us.

I turned, feeling a desperate rage building in me. "Why would you…"

"Why wouldn't I?" She giggled, though her barking laughs, rather than sounding entertained or amused, were more caustic in tone. "This place was mine once. I lived in peace, and nobody came to trouble me. That is, until Byakuren and her gang came. No one here wanted her to come. Aren't I right?" she said, turning to look behind her as if waiting for the spirits to answer. Though the balls of light could not respond, they seemed to move just a little faster, as if in agreement with what she had said.

Anger, inexplicably, turned to curiosity. "You were here even before Byakuren?"

"Compared to me, Byakuren is but a visitor. A traveler." She stared at me. "Just like you."

"I am helpless in this land. Perhaps Byakuren was also."

"That means nothing to me." Miko's gleeful face turned to stone. "The fate of Byakuren, of her little friends, of you… none of it matters in the face of the world at large. Only the shifting of the gates between worlds is of any relevance if we are to make it out of this realm alive."

"I don't quite understand," I began, but Miko held up a finger to stop me.

"I'm not here to babysit," she said, mockingly apologetic as she wagged her finger. "I'm only here to reclaim what was once mine, and a few extras along the way. If you want to see your friends again," she said as she began to hover back into the tower, her ethereal form slowly shrouded by the darkness flanking her diminutive body, "you'll have to come to me first."

"Wait, I-" I reflexively lurched after her, but with a flash of her sword, I fell backwards, and joined Byakuren in her unwitting slumber.

The night had slowly given way to dawn, and the fog, too, rushed to hide from the all-encompassing warmth of the throbbing Gensokyo sun, peeking out from behind the trees, fearful of its splendor. The waxing sunlight made its way up the marble steps, entering the Temple without ever feeling, or even having, the need to knock. The trees bowed to their benefactor; the morning breeze lauded the coming day; the dew danced frivolously in the ebbing darkness.

"Ow!" I exclaimed.

"Hold still. The salve will take a while to set in, but before then… Quite painful, I am afraid."

"Thank you," I said through gritted teeth as the sting ripping at my limbs continued to grow in intensity.

Byakuren smiled, the thick, coarse tourniquet on her head unable to mar the gentle smile that she always wore. Well, wore most of the time.

I took a sip of the tea Byakuren had made. Normally Mamizou or one of the other residents would have made it for her, but the absence of two of her charges had understandably busied her somewhat, even if there was altogether little to do in a tranquil place such as this. The tea was of a mint variety, cooling the throat as it sailed past, and the leaves, velvety and soft, floated to the meniscus, brushing against the side of the cup. Upon tasting the leaves, the true nature of the tea, belying its appearance, came to the fore, a fierce spiciness greeting my tongue as I partook of the drink.

"I call this my healing tea," Byakuren said as she sat across me, fluffing her elegant robes as she eased onto the bench, freeing her hair and letting it play across her shoulders as she watched me, the smile on her evidently worried features never wavering. "It is a tonic for the ill, even if it carries no actual medicinal qualities."

"I feel better already," I assured her.

"Good." She squinted at the sun as it peered at her, its lower half still submerged under the distant horizon. The crease on her brow grew deeper. "In case you were wondering, Kogasa is yet asleep. But she is well."

"I am glad to hear that." According to Byakuren, Kogasa, though weak and small in stature for a youkai, had endeavored to carry me and Byakuren out of the Mausoleum's lake and through the cemetery, placing us at the top of the steps of the Temple and yelling until one of the resident students, barely awake, had come to find out what all the fuss was about. Instead, he found a stranger and his master unconscious at the entrance, and soon the whole temple had been roused to bring us in and also take care of Kogasa, who had collapsed from the exertion of dragging around two adult bodies for at least a mile. I owed her much, as did Byakuren, who had announced that she was, from now on, to be welcomed as a special guest and given the best care if she ever came by.

Even through the fog of exhaustion clouding my mind, I had many questions, all clamoring at the tip of my tongue, threatening to slip from my lips. But before I could say a word, Byakuren spoke up again.

"You do not have to join me in my journey. I must atone for my sins – I cannot involve anyone who is not connected with the Temple, much less a traveler from the outside world. My good conscience would not allow me to do so."

"To begin with, I'm honestly not sure where she went. She seemed to just… disappear."

"It is a favorite trick of hers. She can bend space to her will, just as some others can bend time. Ultimately, though, I suspect there is little difference."

"So where did she go?"

"Who knows?" Byakuren shrugged. "But my best guess is that she went to the one place she knew I would never dare approach, my erstwhile prison, the thought of which sends regular, incessant chills down my spine even as I enjoy my newfound freedom."

"Makai?" I offered, recalling what she had told me earlier in the day.

She did not reply, instead shooting an almost abashed glance at me. Then, she continued. "Again, I urge you to stay in the Village and pass your days peacefully. I know your curiosity is currently ill-sated, but I must insist on behalf of your own personal safety. As for me… I must make the journey, even if I must die for it. Staying here and doing nothing would eat at my life regardless."

I bit my lip. I knew that if I followed, I would be nothing but a burden to her, even if every part of me was yearning for the unmatchable bliss of a new adventure's beginning. Boredom, it seems, had taken a strong hold on my mind as I had passed those uneventful days in the Village, sitting at my desk, reading for the sake of freeing my mind, if not my body.

"I understand. I will take my leave soon, then."

"I do not mind you staying here at the Temple if you so wish. I just would not want to worry Kosuzu and Akyuu, as I know they care about you deeply. Perhaps more than you realize." A twinkle appeared in her eye, but what I thought was a catching of the nascent sunlight turned out to be a single tear. Byakuren quickly wiped it on her sleeve, and abruptly stood. I finished my tea off, and also rose.

"I must extend my gratitude for your thorough care and protection of me throughout my stay, though I understand that now may not be the best time for such words."

"Any words of thanks are welcome to my ears. I can only offer an apology in return for bringing you into harm's way." Byakuren placed her hands on her thighs and bowed deeply.

"It's no matter. I wish you all the best, and I only hope you are successful in bringing your students back."

"I certainly hope so too. Would you like me to escort you back?"

"No, thank you. I would rather you prepared for your trip with all the haste you can afford."

"Then I hope to see you again in the not-so-distant future. If you get a request for more books at Suzunaan, then I suppose you will know then that all is well."

"I'm looking forward to it." I turned to leave, and as I descended the marble steps, the red flags on either side of me fluttering silently in the wind, the doors of the Temple behind me snapped quietly shut.

A brisk walk of just under half an hour was enough for the Village to appear in my sights, and though I definitely had mixed feelings about leaving Byakuren in such desperate circumstances, I could only feel relief at the sight of a frantic-looking Kosuzu lifting the hem of her dress above the ground, half-walking, half-running towards me.

"Traveler!" she exclaimed, waving. Upon releasing her grip on her robes, the edge of the fabric caught on her feet, and she fell face-first into the dirt. I ran over and helped her up, brushing the errant soil from her youthful face.

"Don't worry, Kosuzu. I'm well."

"You sure are late," said another voice. I looked up to see Hieda no Akyuu glaring at me, though her mouth was curled in a relieved half-smile.

"I apologize. A lot happened."

"Evidently so." Akyuu motioned to the bandages on my arm. "Did you end up on the wrong end of Byakuren's special lessons?"

"Far from it. I will tell you when we get back."

Upon settling down into the warm confines of the rental shop's back room, I told the pair about what had transpired. The looks on their faces turned from wonder to shock, before finally stopping on concern.

"Byakuren Hijiri is going alone?" Akyuu wore the exact same expression as I did back at the Temple. "She is powerful, for sure. But the horrors of Makai are well-documented, and even she was confined there for many a century. I understand her purpose, but she is being foolhardy."

"I would have offered to help if I could do anything more than run," I sighed.

"Actually, you may be able to help her in some way," Kosuzu said cryptically. "Not directly, though."

"What do you mean?"

"A guest was asking for you in town today, earlier this morning. You probably know her well, and it seems she knows you well, too."

"Who?" I asked, but neither Kosuzu nor Akyuu needed to answer. A cheery, genial voice hollered a greeting from outside the store, and as the entrance curtains were brushed aside, a large, red ribbon poked through, followed by sweeping white and red robes and a grin to herald the joy that suddenly swelled within me.

"Miss me yet?" Reimu Hakurei asked playfully.

"All the time." We embraced, though rather quickly as we could feel Kosuzu and Akyuu's eyes drilling into our backs. "What brings you here?"

"I happened to find that my kettle was missing." She winked. "Plus, I thought I would check on you. Only a couple hours' flight from the Shrine."

"Flight?" I wasn't as surprised as I thought I would be.

"You heard me. How are you, Kosuzu?"

"I'm well, thank you." Kosuzu hurriedly bowed in greeting, and Akyuu did the same.

"I am surprised you are up so early," Reimu looked up at me. "Something happen? You don't look too happy."

"A lot has been going on," I admitted.

"Then you will have to tell me all about it. I can't stand being out of the loop."

Watching her face fall as I recounted last night's events, I almost felt guilty for letting the cat out of the bag. But she would have found out sooner or later, or at least nagged me about it until I caved in.

"That is no good." Reimu scratched the giant ribbon on her head. "I haven't always been too friendly with Byakuren, but Makai is a place that no one should go to if they don't have to. But I guess she has to, in a way. I would do the same."

"I don't suppose there's much we can do, then?"

"There is always something we can do. It's all about whether we are willing to do it. If I was willing, I would go after her and back her up."

"Are you, though?" In a way, I was also asking myself the same question, even though I again knew that there was little I could offer in terms of fighting the evils that inhabited the region. But I knew that if I were given the opportunity to explore more of Gensokyo, I would jump at it, even if it turned out to be a dead end.

Reimu sensed the eagerness on my part to act, but, like Byakuren, was hesitant to indulge it.

"It is not the best place for a human," she warned.

"I know. But maybe if I learned a little magic, I would at least be of some help," I suggested.

I was fully expecting her to flat-out refuse me at this point, so I was taken aback by what she said next.

"You know what? That... is actually not a bad idea."

Chapter Text

For a person such as myself, now renowned as a fleet-footed peripatetic in Gensokyo, the sight of me staying at the temporary abode of one of the realm's most puissant figures would have given most of our neighbors pause, if we had any neighbors to deal with in a secluded, tranquil place such as this. Instead, after wending through the great magical forest, I found myself back at Marisa's hut, treated to a quickly-spun glass of lemongrass brew as my two new tutors discussed how best to turn my nascent potential into, at the very least, something substantive to wield in the belly of the underworld.

"A student of magic should always begin with their emotions," said Marisa, clearing her throat in a manner not unlike that of teachers in the outside world. "Magic has to be felt, it's not something you can just read from a textbook and conjure up. You start by building from the reserves, getting a feel of letting the magic flow through your veins. Then you can begin studying the intricacies of incantation."

Reimu nodded. "From what I can tell, the traveler has more than enough reserves to get decently far in his training before we begin our journey, perhaps in a few days' time depending on when Byakuren departs. There are more things he can learn along the way, but for now we should inculcate the basics."

I spread my hands. "I am all yours."

"Good." Reimu clapped excitedly. "First, we must start with the sensation. Can you recall what you were doing the last time you passed out from magical overload?"

"I was drinking lemongrass tea," I recounted, though I had no idea how that would help me summon my inner potential. "And feeling very faint."

"Try and recall that feeling of faintness but stay conscious while you do so. Let the dense magical atmosphere here seep into your skin. Feel it course through your veins, as if it were your own blood."

A very light tingling crept over my arm. I tried to embrace the feeling, letting it gather around my upper limbs until it was so viscous as to be almost liquid, pulsing wildly, a burgeoning force that, though intangible, still made my hairs stand on end.

"This is the platform upon which all your magic shall be performed," Marisa intoned. "Keep this feeling in your mind until it becomes second nature to you. Let the magic within be beckoned forth by the deliberations of the world without. Feed on it, and let it feed."

The curtains behind me began to flutter, their shadows casted upon the table as they danced. I glanced at Marisa and Reimu, hoping to see some semblance of approval. Instead, all I could glean from their expressions was a quiet surprise. Shock, even.

I continued to let the feeling flow through me, until I reached the point where I felt I could no longer breathe, the magic building within me threatening to spill out of my trembling lips. I released the invisible ether that had been gathering on my limbs, and as it fled from the room, out of the window and into the forest thicket, the world suddenly grew cold and dull, as if a shadow had been cast over every inch of space my mind's eye could see. I shivered, and Reimu, snapping out of her reverie, rushed over to me and draped a towel over my shoulders.

"That was… invigorating," I commented.

"I must say, your aptitude for magic is far beyond what we initially expected." Marisa pursed her lips, frowning as she sank deep into thought. "But obviously that won't be enough if you want to stay alive in Makai. You have the potential – now it must be realized."

"I understand," I replied, nodding. "I am ready for whatever you throw at me."

"Well, seeing as we might even have to depart tomorrow should the need arise, we should at least get the basics drilled into you. Then we'll see what lies ahead." Marisa opened the door of the hut, letting the cool breeze seep in, and gestured for me to follow her outside.

We made our way to the center of the clearing in front of Marisa's house, and as I squinted from the sudden flashes of sunlight streaming in through the mesh of leaves in the canopy above us, Marisa pulled up her sleeves. Reimu, who had followed behind, leaned against a nearby tree and folded her arms, apparently content to watch Marisa, well, work her magic on me.

"Magic is a form of energy that, above all, reflects the desires of the user," Marisa said as she began moving her arms in a circular motion, small sparks of light coming in and out of focus as they followed the trails she traced in the air, mottling the dense magical atmosphere with an amalgam of points and waves. "It's not that I summon light or heat from some mysterious source and then channel it into a tangible form when I fight. The answer to magic's great mystery is much simpler than it seems, and yet limitless in its possibilities: when I imagine magic, I imagine light, and heat, and other such flashy instruments of battle. That's all there is to it. Reimu sees spell circles and cards because, as a shrine maiden, that's what she's used to when she thinks of the supernatural or the divine. In many ways, the magic that we generate is purely thematic and dependent on our past experiences. So, the first question you must ask yourself is: what is magic… to you?"

Marisa beckoned for me to sit on the damp forest floor, doing so herself and patting her robes down as she sat. "Close your eyes," she instructed, "and think of what magic means to you. What is your first instinct when you think of magic, of the unknown?"

I thought back to the magic shows I'd watched as a child in the outside world – the card tricks, the swords piercing through a body and reappearing on the other side, the acts of disappearance and reappearance. I remembered clapping and gasping along with the crowd, my parents, their faces now a blur in the recesses of my subconscious memory, smiling as they watched me. Despite my tendency to roam and my thorough enjoyment of the scenery and people of Gensokyo thus far, a tiny part of me still longed for a home, any home, even if it was not the home that I remembered.

Abruptly, as if a door had been slammed on the world around me, the cool breeze was throttled, replaced by a comparatively stifling humid warmth. The force of the change was so swift, so sudden, that I was compelled to force my eyes open, almost falling over myself as I tried to stand.

I was back inside Marisa's hut. The glass of lemongrass was on the table in front of me, the liquid inside quivering slightly.

I turned to look outside. Marisa was still sitting in the clearing, eyes closed. Reimu was looking around frantically, until her eyes were cast upon the hut, and she saw me, staring back at her bemusedly. Her jaw dropped, and she rushed over to Marisa, slapping her shoulder and pointing at me. Marisa's initial frown turned to a look of amazement, and the two of them ran towards me. I pushed open the door for them to come to a breathless stop in front of me.

"How did you do that?" Marisa asked, panting.

"Do what?" I had no idea what had just happened – or rather, I didn't think what might have happened was possible. Yet, Marisa's next question confirmed it for me.

"How did you teleport?"

We were back in the warm confines of Marisa's hut, Reimu huddling over a glass of citrus, Marisa scribbling on a yellowing sheet of parchment. The effect of the ostensibly strong magic I had just used still lingered, a tingling, numbing current that made my fingers feel weightless and unburdened.

Marisa leaned back onto her rocking chair, deep in thought. I looked down at the parchment. On it was scrawled a single sentence.

"Magic is will made manifest," I recited.

"Correct." Marisa bit on the cap of her pen. "Magic is the channeling of a surfeit of life energy into the creation of an effect, made real by dint of a combination of willpower and imagination. Or at least, that's what one of my old friends used to say." She shrugged. "I can't say I've ever felt the need to be particularly willful or imaginative – I just have to think a little harder than usual. Maybe that's down to practice, maybe that's down to natural talent. That does bring us to you, though. You employed a piece of magic that the vast majority of people in this realm would never even dare dream of using. How did that happen?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, we can start with what we know. You say that your meeting with Patchouli Knowledge was the spark that your pistons needed." She jotted a few words down.

"You know what cars are?" I asked, slightly taken aback.

"I do visit the Suzunaan from time to time. It's not far from here, after all, and Kosuzu is always willing to let me stick around. It's just that most people here choose not to enlighten themselves with the knowledge the outside world brings. They fear it, in a way, since they don't understand any of it."

"You don't fear it?"

"I'm the second strongest magic user in the realm. I need fear nothing." She glanced at the room's only other occupant. "Why aren't you helping me, number one?"

"Hm?" Reimu looked up, slightly bleary-eyed.

"Don't tell me you're tired already?"

"It's late," she mumbled. Though it was still technically afternoon, I couldn't help but agree - the sun streaming through the window had long taken its leave, and only a red glow, tinted with specks of blue and purple, remained to illuminate the hut's interior. In the dark hues of the waning sunlight, the only sustained source of brightness was the single candle flickering on the tabletop, nestled comfortably within a bronze cup.

"I suggest we stay the night here. The night is dark and full of terrors."

"I understood that reference," I quipped, and Marisa chuckled gently. "But what terrors are there to be found in this forest?"

"More than you might expect. The noxious mushrooms that cover the forest floor grow braver at night, since there's less magical presence to suppress it, and the poison could be a little much for you to bear as you are now. But it's not what lurks in the Forest that you should be wary of – it's the Forest itself."

"You mean the trees and the grass?"

"The Forest of Magic is more than just the vegetation that it comprises. It is the cesspool of magic, so concentrated that to us magicians it feels denser than air and damper than the morning dew, a magic of hallucination and illusion that drives even the strongest magic user mad. Our flights in and out of the Forest were safe in the day because I knew which landmarks to hop between in terms of choosing the most secure passages for travel – at night, we will have no such luxury. We will be fine inside this hut, since I have spell cards embedded in the walls and we have the realm's two most powerful entities with us, but even Reimu hasn't tried walking the Forest at night. So, we ought to stay here."

"I understand." I had always felt that there was something unsettling about the mildly suffocating density of ether that swirled around the forest air, but there was obviously more to this place than even Marisa might risk her own sanity to discover.

"I will make us some supper." Marisa pulled a thick wool blanket from behind the couch and placed it over the shoulders of Reimu, who had fallen back into slumber. She patted Reimu's head and smiled, then went off to the kitchen to start making food. I sank deeper into my seat, letting the warmth of the kitchen heat and the smell of fresh herbs wash over my psyche as I watched Reimu's head bob gently, up and down, up and down, until I, too, was hypnotized by the prospect of sleep, though I managed to battle its temptations until Marisa re-emerged with three bowls and a pot of stew.

Our dinner, a mix of boiled chopped cabbages and tofu, coupled with a few hunks of mystery meat and topped off with several sprigs of rosemary and lemongrass, was gulped down quickly – magic, after all, fed on the life energy of its user, and my own reserves had been sapped like never before – and we were soon back in our original positions, Marisa scratching at her parchment as Reimu, belly filled and hunger sated, continued to doze.

"So, you had a vision of your home in the outside world," Marisa said as she wrote down my recollection of the day's events.

"I did. But not just my home. I had a vision of magic itself, of my notion of magic. I did not think explicitly of my household, merely the idea of it."

"That vagueness is what brought you back inside the hut. Your current idea of home is my house, as this is where you've been staying for the past day and is where you'll probably expect to stay until further notice. That sort of vagueness may be dangerous, especially given the kind of ability that you seem to have gained – you might end up teleporting yourself into the ground, or into a tree, if you're not explicit with your visualizations."

"I see. Then I suppose I will require further training, as expected."

"Of course." Marisa winked at me. "That's what we're here for."

A question popped into my mind. "If you keep training me, will I be able to throw fireballs and spell cards in the way you two do? Or am I locked into my current form of teleportation magic?"

"You'll never be locked into a particular sort of magic. It's only a matter of what you find the most comfortable. If, for example, I started learning how to use spell cards in battle, I would only confuse myself if I had to decide between two very different forms of magic in a split second. That might mean the difference between life and death."

"I see. So, you're simply choosing a particular form to specialize in, for the sake of clarity."

"Exactly. The human mind is powerful, but it can only do so many things at once. Magic, in a way, is an art form – you must constantly paint your ideas in your head, until, one day, they become reality. The many situations that you may find yourself in may yield disparate magical results. If you fail to prepare adequately for every event that may possibly occur, your magic may never work at all."

"It seems there is much, much more to magic than simply thinking about it," I noted.

"There is indeed. But, like all art forms, it can be mastered, and you may develop a unique, distinctive style that distinguishes you from the rest. That's the beauty of it, don't you think?"

I smiled, and Marisa, seeing this, smiled as well.

"I suppose it is."

It had been a week since the potential of my newfound powers had truly been awakened, though even now I still felt a slight tinge of fear at the prospect of having magic running freely through my system. As a human-turned-magician in the vein of Marisa and Reimu, amongst others, I was now subject to the same unspoken rules that governed the practice of magic within the realm of Gensokyo: I was free to use my magic to resolve conflicts – not that I particularly wanted to involve myself in any whilst I was here – but I was, as might be expected, forbidden from using it to commit any misdemeanors. Given the freedom of movement that teleportation magic granted me, this applied more to me than it did to most other magic users – I could ostensibly teleport in and out of people's properties at will, even if my inherently strong sense of morality forbade me from even entertaining the thought of it. Plus, it would not be a good idea to parade my powers around the place – power inevitably attracts trouble, and trouble was the last thing I wanted when my knowledge and study of the magic I wielded was still very much incipient.

I now had sufficient practice teleporting myself in and out of Marisa's cottage at will, though the mildly nauseous after-effects of such a move were things I had yet to become totally accustomed to. The problem now, rather than actually performing the spell, was keeping my thoughts in check so as to prevent myself from teleporting outside accidentally – during the first few days of my training, I often allowed my thoughts to drift to the day's training sessions, only to find myself materializing in the cool night air outside the hut, dropping painfully into a cluster of leaves whilst the ever-alert Marisa came running out, brandishing her broom and lantern, to find me curled up in a fetal position on the forest floor, nursing my bruised shoulders and limbs. Ultimately, I learned that it was my paranoia over my accidental teleportation that really led to my teleporting unwillingly, as the more I worried about it, the more I actually thought about it – pink elephants in the room and all that. I decided to focus my attentions towards gleaning more information on the surprisingly rare type of magic that had been bestowed upon me, and the more I learned, the less I feared, and so the more control I asserted over my own body.

One morning, I awoke to find Reimu taking on a most unusual position. She was sat, cross-legged, floating about a meter into the air. Surrounding her were two black-and-white orbs, circling her frail-looking, yet quietly powerful and serene form. The red drapes on her robes fluttered in a psychic, intangible wind of Reimu's making, and on the floor was a cluttered mess of spell cards and paper charms, glowing dimly in the light of the nascent dawn.

For a moment, neither of us said anything, though I sensed that Reimu must have seen or heard me coming, for the density of the shimmering mirage surrounding her diminished as I approached.

"You are up early," she noted. It was still dark amidst the thicket around us, though it was still bright enough to make out the silhouettes of the trees guarding the clearing near the cottage.

"I am." I gestured towards the orbs, still hovering menacingly nearby. "What are they?"

"They are yin-yang orbs." As I moved closer, I noticed the telltale symmetrical pattern of the yin-yang emblazoned across their surfaces. "They are porous crystals of spiritual energy, so powerful that one orb may contain enough energy to fuel the strongest spells of a dozen magicians. They feed on my energy, helping me keep my reserves in check from time to time."

"I have never seen them before. Do you not use them often?"

"They are both my trump card and my last resort, in a way. They take from my reserves and propel themselves forward in bursts of pure energy, and anyone who touches them while they are volatile are burned by the sheer force of their power. Even I must admit that I cannot fully control them – I must will them to move, though doing so expends a considerable amount of my internal strength. I have been feeling slightly bloated lately, however, so I am using them to sap some of my magic before it overflows."

"I see." I sat down beside her, scaring a curious cricket in the process as it darted away. "How did you come to have these orbs?"

"They are treasures passed down through the Hakurei line. Through my parents, and their parents, and their parents before them."

"Where are your parents now?"

"I don't know." I looked up and saw that Reimu, eyes closed as she meditated, had creased her features into a small frown. "And I do not care to know."

"I understand." Thusly the matter was closed.

A slight rustling above our heads disturbed the fragile tranquility of the morning forest. To my surprise, a broom, followed by a large, flowing dress and an oversized witch hat, came floating down, touching down lightly in front of Reimu's still-seated form.

"I thought you were still asleep in the hut," I said.

Marisa brushed a few leaves off her shoulders. "I was checking on my shop. Heaven knows I don't do it often enough."

"That is true. You have been with us the whole time we've been here."

"It can run itself," Marisa replied offhandedly, though that served only to confuse me even more. "I also stopped by the Human Village to do some groceries. Only way to beat the rush is to go early, after all."

"That only applies to human cities. I'm surprised anyone else is awake at an hour as unholy as this."

"People here wake up at the first light and sleep at the last. Plus, we're pretty lucky that I decided to pop by early."

"How so?" I had an inkling of what Marisa might say next, but she quickly sought to confirm my worst fears.

"What else do you think?" she said. "Byakuren's just left for Makai. She wanted to go in cover of night – at least, that's what Kosuzu told me."

Reimu's eyes sprang open. "Then we must depart now. The Palanquin Ship does not wait for anyone. Even on Marisa's broom we would be hard-pressed to –"

The sky abruptly darkened, as if a shadow had been cast over the entire clearing. Sure enough, as a great creaking echoed around the Forest, shaking the wildlife from their slumber as they began to complain noisily, we looked up to see a giant wooden hull, reinforced by strips of glowing steel and silver, held aloft by naught but the perennial breeze pushing on its feathery sails, and the will and quiet rage of its immortal captain.

"Speak of the devil," Marisa muttered.

Although I had taken many rides on Marisa's broom, the sheer speed at which we were flying this time around made the empty, lofty feeling tickling my dangling feet stronger all the more. Reimu rocketed forwards alongside us, robes fluttering manically as she, Marisa and I chased the surprisingly swift Palanquin Ship. The trees beneath us were a blur, and as the Palanquin Ship gradually began to gain in height, the Forest fell away, gradually blanketed by the thin veil of fog that hung permanently above the treetops. Though Marisa's gold, velvety locks of hair spun frantically in the wind, I could nevertheless see the byproduct of her exertions: a couple of beads of sweat trickling nonchalantly down her nape, blissfully unaware of their surroundings.

Despite our best efforts, it appeared that even the mighty magic of Marisa and Reimu could not propel us fast enough to chase down an entire ship, with its sails fully spread and catching each and every bite of wind that blew its way. The hull visibly drew away, its silver plating catching more and more of the budding sunlight as it ascended higher and higher.

"It's pulling away!" Reimu yelled.

"I can see that!" Marisa held the hem of her hat as she willed the broom to go faster, but only a small, intangible change in velocity occurred, if indeed we had sped up at all. Reimu, too, looked at the end of her tether – she was squinting so hard as to almost be closing her eyes completely, and her teeth were gritted under her taut lips.

Amidst the situation at hand slipping away from our grasp, I felt more powerless than I ever had before. Yet, somehow, I knew that I had to act in the only way that I knew I could, even if Marisa and Reimu, under normal circumstances, would never agree to my doing so. So, I decided to make myself useful.

"I have an idea," I shouted.

"I know what you're thinking," Reimu called back. "It's too dangerous."

"It is the only way."

"But how? You've never seen the inside of the Palanquin Ship."

"But I have seen the interior of the Myouren Temple. In a way, they're one and the same."

"He's right," Marisa said, turning to look back at us with an unusually grim expression on her face. "My only worry is that we'll end up at the actual site of the Myouren Temple, in which case we'll never catch Byakuren. But we have to try."

"And the possibility of something else entirely happening does not faze you?"

"I have faith in my young apprentice." She winked at me, and grinned. "You should, too."

Reimu sighed audibly, an incredible feat considering how loud the wind was in my ears.

"Fine. But we must hurry, before we move out of whatever range the traveler's spell might have."

"Alright," Marisa pointed a thumb at the back of the broom. "Get on."

Reimu eased alongside us and clambered onto the broom, her slightly deviant velocity making it so that she slammed into me the moment she got on, as our combined weight meant that the broom was slowed considerably. Conservation of energy seemed to apply even with magic, I noted, though that might be to be expected since magic, as Marisa mentioned a few days ago, was simply life energy made manifest by willpower. Nothing more, nothing less.

But I had no time to think about that in our current predicament. The ship was slipping away at an ever-increasing rate.

"Now or never, traveler!" Reimu yelled into my ear.

I closed my eyes and began to think. I brought the events of a week and a half prior to the forefront of my mind, taking the fragmented memories and piecing them together, bit by bit. As I felt the magic well up from within me, the sensations that lingered on the edges of my senses came into focus – in the back of my head, I could hear the mewling crickets and the faint creaking of the wooden planks as I stepped over them; I could touch the coarse oak, letting it run under my fingers, and feel the damp of the morning dew coat my fingertips; I could smell and taste the cool, distant mint tea that I had been served, its bitter undercurrents swirling around the back of my tongue, slipping down my throat and leaving a gentle trail of spring wind in its wake; and above all, I could see Byakuren, wearing a comfortable and easy smile, settling into her seat, flanked by an array of old, humble pillars that kept the temple roof aloft.

As I zoomed in on that final image, the image of Byakuren became clearer and clearer, so clear, in fact, that I felt as if I could reach out and touch it. Both in my mind and, seemingly in real life, I extended my hand and brushed it against the hair spilling over her shoulders.

I opened my eyes. My hand was outstretched, brushing against a lock of purple hair, fading downwards into a mess of golden tendrils. I looked up to see Byakuren, staring at me, a look of incredulous shock plastered over her features.

"What… are you doing here?" she mouthed.

I quickly pulled my hand away, and looked around. Reimu was lying in a red-and-white puddle of fabric on the floor, and Marisa, cutting a much-diminished figure now that her hat was off her head, was rubbing her ankle, wincing at a yet-unknown injury.

The deck was an empty expanse, a flat board of dull beige wood with railings wrapped around, sloping upwards towards the stern of the ship where the Myouren Temple, now serving as the bridge of the ship, stood guard in all its majesty, still bringing the great blades installed atop its gables to bear. Above us was a single white sail, emblazoned with the character for "treasure" in crimson across its great girth, stretching from port to starboard as it fluttered manically. There were a few more small sails sitting unfurled at the bow, but they would not have been necessary – the main sail alone was so large that it covered most of the visible sky from where we stood, and it caught all the wind the ship needed to fly with plenty to spare.

"We, uh…" I was also at a loss of words, mainly because the teleportation had somehow actually worked, and had managed to bring two of Gensokyo's greatest sources of magic with it. I could have felt pride and relief, but now, faced with Byakuren's angry gaze, I could only feel nervousness.

"We thought we'd come help." Reimu had emerged from the swirl of robes at her feet, dusting the dirt off her shoulders. Marisa also stood, hands on hips in mock defiance, though her leg still quivered from the bruising her ankle had taken.

"I do not need your help." Byakuren turned to look at the Temple. "This is my fight alone, and I intend to fight it alone."

"You may have been alone when you last stayed in Makai, but you don't need to be alone now." Marisa stepped forward. "You were aided by others then, including Reimu and I, even if you didn't wish for it. And we're here again all the same."

"But I-"

"You told me that I could come to you for anything once. Well, here I am. I won't have it any other way, and I'm sure the other two think the same."

"I am not unappreciative of your assistance in this matter. But," Byakuren turned to me, "I am greatly concerned about you risking the life of a non-magical human. It is astounding that you thought to bring him along."

"How do you think we got here in the first place?" Reimu smiled at me. "He is non-magical no longer. We have all our bases covered – we wouldn't bring him along otherwise."

"I see." Though Byakuren still visibly struggled with our presence, she seemed resigned to the fact that there was little she could do to dissuade us from tagging along. "Then make yourselves at home. We have a long journey ahead of us, and we cannot afford to be ill-prepared."

"Thank you," I said. "I apologize for the intrusion, but they were insistent… as was I."

"It is no matter. I know you three are of noble heart." Byakuren managed a strained smile. "Come, follow me. I will show you to your quarters." She turned, and we accompanied her into the pavilion.

Thusly did our foray into the perilous, inter-dimensional underbelly of Gensokyo begin.

It was almost unnerving that, despite the fact that we were probably a thousand feet or more into the air, it felt like we had never left the ground at all, so unnaturally smooth was the ship's trajectory as it hurtled at full tilt towards the portal that would take us into the underworld. As unintuitive as it sounded, the entrance to Makai was located somewhere in the air, though how high up it was exactly would remain a mystery to me.

The journey, which would take a day and a night, filled my vision with naught but the great blue sky and the equally limitless grasslands and forests that held it up. The only real highlight of the trip came when, as the sun drew the mountains like a blanket over its pale orange head, Byakuren beckoned for us to peer over the ship's parapet and at the distant land below.

"What is it? I don't see anything," Marisa muttered.

"Patience. We will see it soon."

Briefly, the clouds underneath us parted, and a small brown square came into view. From the top, it looked like any other old house, but the marble steps situated some distance away revealed its true identity.

"The Hakurei Shrine," I noted.

"It is indeed. As Reimu and Marisa may well know, the entrance to Makai is usually situated behind the Shrine, deep inside the mountains that house the Hakurei's source of spiritual power. In a way, the fate of the Hakureis are tied to the whims of Makai."

"Does that mean the Hakurei family was involved in the creation of Makai in some way? Or is it the other way around?"

"No one can say for sure. I suspect even Keine Kamishirasawa would not have the clearest of answers to that question. But what is undeniable is that the creator of Makai still lives – if you could call their existence a life of any sort. They dwell in an impregnable fortress, known only to us as Pandemonium, situated at the deep end of Makai. There is where they waste away their endless days." Byakuren turned away from the railing. "Come. It grows dark. We ought to rest, for we must arise early in the morning, so we may cross the barrier between worlds with better ease."

After a simple dinner and a round of mint tea, we retreated to our chambers. As the usual residents of the Temple had vacated the premises before Byakuren's departure, we were free to choose whichever quarters we liked. I took to my chosen bed quickly, but slumber eluded me for the time being.

I wasn't sure what to expect come morning – Marisa and Reimu had told me differing accounts of what the place was like, but one of the few things that they seemed to agree on was that it was red. Blood red, filling the eyes until one grew sick of it, assuming they hadn't already fallen ill from the sheer viscosity of the magical miasma that permeated the air within, clogging the throat with every breath they took. Nothing, Marisa warned, could mentally prepare me for the experience, so I might as well give in and enjoy the ride. Scarcely comforting words, but as long as the air was safe to breathe, it might somewhat be akin to being atop a very high mountain, heavily starved for oxygen, but still clutching at life's straws.

My racing thoughts soon slowed to a crawl, and sleep overtook my senses. When I next returned to consciousness, it was to see a slightly disheveled Marisa poking my cheek.

I sat up, and almost immediately fell back onto my bed. I felt as if half of my throat had been glued together, and as I gasped, limbs flailing in panic, Marisa slipped a flask out of her breast pocket and poured its bluish-white contents down my throat. At once, my entire body went limp, and although the stifling sensation had not passed, I immediately felt the anxiety slip away, the numbness streaming out through my fingertips, leaving a warm glow emanating from under my skin.

"Thank you," I mouthed.

"No problem. Can't have you die on us now that we're here."

"We're what?"

"You slept through it. We tried waking you up, but you were completely out of it, so we decided to let you sleep. It's not really important that you're awake for the crossing, anyway – it's just a little hard to get used to if you wake up in this kind of air, so I had to whip up a potion real quick. You're welcome," she added with a wink.

"So, we're in Makai now?"

"We sure are. Welcome to the underworld. You'll want to take a look outside."

I clambered out of bed blearily, taking a moment to let the thickness of the air settle in my lungs. I stepped out of the door, and turned to look at the entrance to the Temple's lobby.

As promised, it was very, very red. The entire view outside, save for the tinted features of the ship, was a sea of angry, boiling red, crimson and vermilion pouring over each other, with traces of a darker scarlet fighting to escape from under the blanket of bloody hues. It was morbidly mesmerizing, and a stake of fear abruptly pierced through my heart. I already regretted coming here, and it had barely been a minute since I had awoken.

Marisa caught the look on my face and placed an arm around my shoulder.

"Like I said, you'll get used to it. That does take some doing if you've been breathing the good air all your life, though. I've actually been here more times than I can count – there's a lot of stuff here that you can't find in the usual hiding spots in Gensokyo. You always have to keep an open mind with these kinds of things."

Reimu emerged from her room, adjacent to mine. "Oh, you are up," she smiled. "Welcome to Makai, I suppose. Judging by your appearance, I can safely surmise that you have not made yourself accustomed to the air yet."

"I would say it's more the view that is taking my breath away in this case," I commented.

"It is splendid, is it not?" Reimu twirled her robes around, its usual sprightly whiteness now plunged in a fresh, glossy pink reminiscent of the petals of the first cherry blossoms in spring. "The redness is caused by the refraction of the magical ether that suffuses the air – outside of the fog, there is nothing but pitch-black darkness, so you might find it easier to see once we are some distance from the ship."

"That is a relief to hear," I assured her.

"I must say that I am not overly fond of this place – it does contain many things that I find rather unsavory – but there is a certain beauty to it, as there is a beauty to all things. Always look on the bright side of life, as you might say."

"Well, this is certainly one of the brighter sides of my own life." The sheer monochromaticity of the color had now been burned into my retinas for so long that the greenish-blue afterimages that it created was actually beginning to cancel out the overwhelming redness. As each of my individual breaths grew lighter in response to the change in atmosphere, I also found it a little easier, at least in my mind, to breathe.

"We shall be landing shortly." Byakuren poked her head in from outside the entrance. "Please ensure you bring your personal property with your actual person. I cannot guarantee the safety of anything left on the ship."

After a few minutes had passed, we felt a soft clunk beneath our feet. The ship had settled.

We made for the ramp at the center of the ship, descending down a spiraling flight of stairs and then onto the wooden slope leaning on the ground, a bed of almost jet-black rock that glowed dimly in the claret light that coated its surrounds, lending it a tincture of mahogany.

To my surprise, a figure stood near the base of the ramp, arms crossed, watching apprehensively as we approached. She wore a simple frock, bright red with white sleeves and white collar, her head crowned by a messy stream of rosy pink that matched the eager fuchsia blush simmering in her irises.

"I did not expect to see you again so soon," she said. Her voice was haughty, but there was a trace of fear in the tremble that accompanied it.

"We haven't been here for a while," Marisa replied. "Even I haven't been here for quite a bit, and you know how often I come here."

The figure sighed. "Time is as immaterial here as it is in the outer realms. For a being such as myself, you have only been gone for but a matter of moments."

"I suppose I should say, 'I'm home', or something along those lines then," Reimu quipped.

An unusually deep scowl met Reimu's words. Reimu smirked.

"We are here on some personal business of mine," Byakuren interjected. "I must know where Toyosatomimi no Miko has fled."

"Fled? Hardly. I suspect she knows you are coming. But I owe no allegiances to anyone but my master, the lord and god of this land, so I will inform you that she has passed through here, along with her scions, Seiga Kaku, Yoshika Miyako, and the other members of her escort. The rest I leave up to you to discover, for I can offer no assistance in that regard."

"Thank you, Sara. That is all I needed to hear." Byakuren bowed her head, and Sara returned the courtesy, though she looked up to glare at Reimu as we passed.

"She doesn't like you very much, does she," I whispered to Reimu.

"Sour grapes, nothing more." Reimu waved a hand dismissively. "I bested her easily in combat, and now she cannot stand the sight of me. All the better, for there are already enough annoyances to occupy my attentions in this accursed place."

I turned to look back at Sara, but she had already vanished. Only the ship was there, sitting sullenly amidst the monotony of the overriding color around it, which soon brought to mind a question.

"Is there a way to pinpoint exactly where we are?" I asked. "Everything seems the same from here."

"It's true that everything looks the same at first glance. But there are general directions we can follow that are basically guaranteed to take us to the place we want to go. For example," Marisa pointed at the ship, "the Palanquin is parked a few hundred feet in front of the Gate, which is how beings capable of entry into Makai travel to and from Gensokyo. Given that we know where the Gate is, we can roughly guess where everything else is with the help of a compass and the presence of some landmarks." Marisa rummaged inside her dress pocket and fished out an old, worn-out device, a small iron needle suspended daintily on a chipped wooden board. Letting the needle settle, she pointed vaguely in a direction to our right. "That's where we probably want to go."

"Is that where Miko is supposed to be?"

"There's really no saying where Miko is going to be. It's a big place, Makai. But given that Miko probably wants Byakuren to go to her, this seems like the only place she'd go."

"Why there in particular?" I glanced at Byakuren. Our eyes met, and she quickly looked away.

"Oh, that's where Hokkai is." Marisa lowered her voice, and drew closer to me.

"It's where Byakuren was imprisoned."

We had barely been walking for ten minutes, and yet the suffocating sensation that accompanied my every step made it feel like an eternity had passed. Marisa had passed me another potion to stave off the small bouts of panic that still threatened to cloud my senses, but, knowing that we still had a while to go, I thought that I ought to save it for when the going really got tough.

"The underworld sure is a depressing place," I said. The red miasma coating the sky had begun to part, and hints of the eternal darkness that comprised Makai's endless night were poking through. Soon, I mused, we might find ourselves shrouded in an all-encompassing blackness, with nothing to see save for that which the light of Marisa's lantern cast its merciful gaze upon.

"The underworld is a great many things, depressing being one of them," Reimu replied. "Makai is, in my own personal opinion, one of the less depressing parts of it."

"You're saying there are parts of the underworld that aren't Makai? I thought Makai was a name for the entirety of the underworld itself."

"Of course not. Makai is but a segment of the realms that lie beneath the earthly veneer of Gensokyo. There is also, as you may have expected, a Hell much like the Hell that you are familiar with, where the souls of the sinful and unrepentant are made to rot. It is governed by the Ministry, a collective that even the most powerful of us surface folk do not contend with."

"The Ministry?"

"The Ministry of Right and Wrong. A group of prison wardens, if you may call them that. Souls adjudged to be beyond salvation by Yamaxanadu of the Higan, Eiki Shiki, are sent to them."

"I see." I had no idea what kind of meaning any of those names or terms carried, but I had long since learned to accept certain mysterious things in Gensokyo at face value, given that I might never end up laying eyes upon many of the phenomena that Gensokyo's denizens spoke of.

"There is, of course, also a location where Hell once stood. A Former Hell, if you might call it that."

"A 'Former' Hell?" I almost laughed at the thought of it. "Very strange."

"It is a strange thing indeed," Reimu chuckled. "But Former Hell is actually one of the more accessible of the underworld realms, at least to our knowledge. One simply needs to travel down the Fantastic Blowhole, and they will soon find themselves on the very path to Former Hell."

"Sounds simple enough."

"It does, though traveling down the perilous mouth of the Blowhole is another matter entirely. Marisa has been through it – she can tell you how difficult it is."

"It wasn't so bad, I had my broom after all." Marisa scratched her head in thought. "Though I remember it not being a pleasant experience. It was damp all over, and pretty damn windy too. Plus, the rocks on the walls kept getting dislodged, so I had to watch my head."

"So, you've been to the former location of Hell too, I take it."

"I have. It wasn't nice. I had to do a lot of fighting – there's way too many youkai still living there. The heat was pretty bad, too. But I had to see things through, because the heat was causing geysers to form on the surface, and we had no idea what was going on underground until I got there."

"The heat?"

"It's technically still Hell, in a way. There's a lot of fires and heat, as you'd expect – it's actually where the Nuclear Furnace is located. The Furnace, in turn, is what powers the heat that channels through the rest of the underworld."

"Did I just hear you say, 'Nuclear Furnace'?"

"You did. We're not savages, you know, even if we're chronologically lagging behind the outside world by half a dozen centuries. Magic has helped us advance in ways that most non-Gensokyo dwellers would likely not expect. Plus, the kappa are a pretty intelligent race, even if they don't always let it on."

"So, the kappa managed to achieve nuclear fusion?"

"Nuclear what?" Marisa frowned.

"You know, the process by which the Nuclear Furnace is powered. As it is with most nuclear sources of energy in the outside world."

"I'm honestly not sure exactly what process powers the Furnace. But I do know the fuel that it runs on is by no means a mystery to us."

"What fuel would that be?"

"Corpses." Marisa bit her lip. "Human and youkai both. They supply the required biomass to keep the thing running. Rin Kaenbyou is the Furnace's undertaker, if you could call her that. She's the one that brings the corpses there."

"That's… somewhat unsettling, I must admit."

Marisa shrugged. "If it works, it works. Oh, we're here."

I looked up. The sky, which now consisted of patches of black and red, abruptly surrendered any semblance of night past a certain point several dozen feet in front of us – Hokkai, as I assumed it was, had a ceiling composed of nothing but the same boiling, churning red that had greeted us at the Gate. But what was most unusual about the place was that the ground had melted into a bubbling, angry-looking froth, splashes of azure and scarlet filling the watery mess painted on the floor.

"How are we going to get through that?" I asked, pointing at the ground.

"Well, Reimu and I can fly. Byakuren, you've been here before – how did you make it out?"

We all turned to look at Byakuren. Her face had completely stiffened, and she seemed almost afraid to look upon the landscape of her former prison, yet remained unable to draw her eyes away from it.

"Byakuren?" Reimu waved a hand in front of her face.

"Yes?" Byakuren jumped as if she had been stabbed in the abdomen. "I apologize, I… I needed to gather my senses."

"Worry not, I understand your preoccupations completely. Perhaps Marisa and I should fly out and scout the area. That way, we will be able to see if it is worth you and the traveler taking the risk to enter."

"That won't be necessary," said a voice from behind us.

It was now time for the rest of us to jump. A swaying green robe emerged from the darkness, followed closely by a shiny orange dress. Two figures, both with their hands clasped, approached.

"The scions of Toyosatomimi," Reimu muttered.

"Greetings," said the one clad in orange with a perfunctory smile. "We bid you welcome to Hokkai, and thank you for taking the time to travel so far."

"Spare me your courtesies." Byakuren pulled a charm from inside her sleeve, flicking it into the air as she drew a spell circle around her waist, fingers clasping together upon its completion. A surge of green and yellow light cascaded from the circumference of the spell circle, her robes beginning to flutter as her skin glowed with the energy she had summoned. "You will return my disciples to me, or you will suffer."

The orange-clad maiden shook her head. "We wish only to find a peaceful solution to this, if you would but hear us out. But it seems that you would not be amenable to such an option. A shame."

"If yer asking from trouble, we'll bring it to ya." The one in green clapped her hands, and abruptly a jagged spear of lightning shot from the sky, the clap disguised by the considerably louder snap of thunder that accompanied it, ringing and echoing around the empty expanse that we stood in. The lightning set a course straight us, but Marisa banged her broom on the ground, and at once a barrier of light expanded around us, allowing the blast to deflect harmlessly away upon impact.

"I'm sure you can do better, Soga no Tojiko, but we don't have any time to find out." Marisa snapped her fingers, and a much larger and more powerful-looking bolt of lightning appeared, hovering menacingly above the two figures' heads. "You know who I am, and you know that I always get what I want. What we'd really appreciate now, more than anything, is your cooperation."

"You can threaten us all you want, surface-dweller. But it won't change the fact that-"

The arrow of lightning fell, and Soga no Tojiko was sent flying so far that she practically disappeared from sight, so thick was the otherworldly darkness that had swelled to fill our vision. We all turned to look at the orange-clad maiden, who appeared visibly to be in shock.

"Your turn, Mononobe no Futo."

Mononobe no Futo let out an awkward laugh.

"Well, I was basically going to inform you of my mistress's location in either case."

I took my first step onto the malleable floor of Hokkai gingerly, letting the treacly, cold mass climb onto my trousers as it seeped into every nook and cranny inside my boots. It was as uncomfortable as one might expect, and yet when I removed my foot from the syrup, it was as if I had never stepped in anything at all – my shoes and pants reverted to their crusty, but wholly dry, original form.

I could tell that Byakuren was eager to make our sojourn in her erstwhile jail short – her usually rested and serene features did not betray much, but the light in her eyes grew dimmer as we waded through the liquid, which soon reached up to our knees. Reimu and Marisa hovered overhead, tailing our temporary guide closely as she, too, moved silently through the air above us.

The ubiquitous red ambience of the place was so overbearing that whatever little I could see of the dark, pulsating floor upon which we walked was also consumed by the green and blue fires that swam in my vision upon looking away from the sky. Thus, we once again relied heavily on the welcoming ochre glow of Marisa's lamp, swinging quietly from the handle of her broom as she flew alongside Reimu.

I stole a glance at Byakuren, who was staring at the floor as she trudged beside me, deep in thought, letting the tail of her robe float on the intangible liquid. A maiden more unfamiliar to these surrounds might have at least held the sides of her robes to prevent the billowing ends of her robes from dragging her steps back, but Byakuren, as perhaps once this region's most seasoned resident, evidently had long since ceased caring about the ground's effects on her movement. Her eyes were sheltered by the silken purple hair that parted just above her forehead, but judging by the unusually unconfident expression painting her features and the barely visible slump about her shoulders, I knew that she was far from happy to be back.

In a twisted sort of way, I could sympathize with her, though her former plight and mine were drastically different in almost every way. She had been bound and sealed by some invisible, unknown force to this humorless, empty wasteland, forced to gaze at the exit, so close by and yet still so far beyond her reach, for centuries upon desperate centuries. In contrast, I had no idea where even to begin finding the exit to this world, and occasionally, I wondered in secret if I ultimately really wanted to leave. Gensokyo and its vast underworld were realms of intrigue, of mystery, and of great potential, and if I were to be wrenched from it without having discovered their deepest secrets, snapped from a waking dream in the manner that Keine had described, then I would surely regret it for the rest of my otherwise mundane, non-magical life. I had no idea what kind of life I had lived before I had arrived here, but I knew that nothing I could do, nothing I could ever amount to, would give me as much joy as traversing through such a fantastical, wondrous place, so far removed from the limited, orderly humdrum of the outside world.

The dim yellow glow overhead stopped moving, and Byakuren and I looked up.

"What seems to be the matter?" Byakuren asked.

"Don't panic, but… I lost her." Marisa scratched her head. "I swear she was right in front of us just a moment ago."

"I could sense her drawing farther away, but she did not actually seem to be getting any farther," Reimu added. "I suspect she may have altered the flow of the qi within the miasma, drawing the chaotic strands closer to the gap between us so as to generate a mirage and hasten her escape."

"The qi?"

"The luck of the draw, in other words. The red mess in the sky is a manifestation of chaos, and of probability. With a little extra luck, Futo could have it form a wall of plasma between her and us if she wanted." Marisa let out a sigh. "She didn't, though. Why?"

"I suspect it is because her primary goal was not to escape from here," Byakuren answered. "Rather, she wanted to keep us here."

"What for?" Reimu asked. Her question soon proved to be rhetoric.

Out of the surrounding darkness, figures began to emerge. They were humanoid, but at the same time they were very clearly not human – the mess of dull, blonde hair that adorned their heads, when parted, revealed an almost faceless, featureless head, devoid of any orifice or protrusion, save for a pair of glowing eyes whose true form was obscured by the unmoving shadows cast across the figures' skin. They were dressed in simple, plain dresses of blue and red and green, and their arms were outstretched, their hands curled into snarling claws that were whipped forwards and backwards as they walked, closing in with an air of menacing finality. They were voiceless, but their actions conveyed only hostility, and their silhouettes glowed with auras of malevolent, blood-red energy.

"Demons," muttered Byakuren. "I have not seen so many gathered in one place before."

"Can you take them?" I asked.

"Marisa and I have fought demons here before, but this is…" Reimu bit her lip. "This is far, far too many. If you were at the height we are, you would see that we are very much trapped here. They are everywhere."

"What can we do, then?"

"Same thing we did the last time we were in trouble." Marisa landed on the ground and quickly conjured a spear of lightning, throwing it out at the encroaching horde. It hit a few members of the vanguard, but the demons behind them simply stepped over their unmoving brethren, advancing with an ever-increasing vigor.

"Take us out of here, traveler."

"Take us out? What do you mean?" I asked frantically.

"Use your magic, dummy. What do you think we brought you along for?"

"I'm not sure I can take us all the way back to the ship. We haven't tried-"

"We'd have figured out your maximum range sooner or later anyway." Marisa grabbed my hand, and gestured for Reimu and Byakuren to follow suit. "Come on, chop chop."

Reimu and Byakuren clasped their fingers around my other hand. I closed my eyes and began to sink deep into thought, just as I had done a day prior. In my mind, I saw the ship in all its glory, sails standing proudly as it awaited its master's return, the oaken boards and silver plating glistening in the great red light. A trembling sensation came rushing forth from the core of my body, and I let it overwhelm me as my consciousness descended into the deepest corners of my mind, drawing from it all the power that had been bestowed upon me.

But this time, something was wrong. Although I could not physically detect any movement, I could somehow feel that the pull of the spell that I had cast was somehow different. Something was twisting the mental dimensions through which I walked with an almost subtle, casual flair, as if it were toying with me. I felt the sublimity that one feels when gazing upon a being far greater and far more powerful than themselves, and at that very moment, I was left at a loss for words, as if I had been confronted, for the most fleeting of moments, with a deity, a god, of some kind. It was but a split second of exposure, yet it was all I could do to maintain my focus, bringing all my willpower into ensuring that the spell, if not corrected, was at least completed, so we might still escape from the dire straits in which we had found ourselves.

The collective splashing of the liquid mass beneath the demons' feet as they beckoned ever closer, a cacophony of ominous noise that had grown loud beyond any sound I had heard before, was abruptly cut from my ears, leaving an almost deafening silence that range briefly in my ears before the ground beneath me shifted, knocking me off balance, and compelling me to open my eyes.

The red was gone. Initially, that served as a source of comfort to me, before I realized that our ship, too, had been bathed in the same bloody glow, and that glow was now absent. The air, too, was much clearer and easier to breathe, though again that brought little relief given the circumstances.

"This does not happen often, does it?" Byakuren asked.

"Performance issues, I suppose," Marisa offered.

"My spell, my mind… it was tinkered with." I struggled to put what I had just experienced into words, even though its image remained clear to me. "Something reached in and took hold of me. A godlike figure. It appeared before me, and took me away from where I wanted to go."

Marisa frowned. "It's not often that the god of this realm tinkers in affairs that are not her own. Maybe she has greater plans for you, maybe not. Whatever it is, although we're now safely out of danger, her meddling has brought us to… Where are we exactly?"

I looked around. The ground was composed of a similar kind of rock as Makai's, so deeply red as to be almost black, while the sky was once again covered in the same semblance of night, with no stars or other sources of light to suggest its location or provide any additional illumination.

"I have a few ideas of where we may be, though I think we may need a lot of clarification before I suggest anything concrete." Reimu pointed in a seemingly random direction, though as my eyes deposited the last afterimages of Makai's finest red, I could see a small pinpoint of light in the distance. "Following the light is always a good way to start, though I hope we will not run into anything equally hostile before we arrive."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that."

Although we had long since had our fill of surprises, we still jumped nonetheless. The source of the voice stepped into the light: a tall, confident-looking presence, clad in a white kimono lined with crimson trim that was stretched tight by a noticeably large chest, ending in a translucent, cloudy blue dress that fell around her legs. Her sandals smacked the ground noisily as she moved, and the stray chains hanging from the manacles around her ankles and wrists clinked against her limbs with every step, which made it all the more surprising that we had not noticed her earlier – unless, of course, she had been standing here all this time, enjoying herself in the darkness until we had intruded. A large red horn was anchored to her forehead, separating the golden streams of hair spilling over her head and onto her shoulders.

"You sound like you've never been here before. Strange thing, since it feels like just the other day since I saw you last. You gave me a pretty good fight, too." She puffed out her cheeks. "Then again, we are pretty far out from town."

Marisa put a hand to her chest. "Good heavens. You scared the hell out of me, Yuugi."

"Not as much as you scared me. I was just having a walk," Yuugi held up a bowl of what appeared to be sake in her hand, "and all of a sudden you four just up and bounced right in front of me. These stunts ain't good for an oni's heart, you know." She laughed heartily, and upon hearing that laugh, it was as if all the built-up stress from the past couple of days had been released at once. I sighed in relief, and managed a smile of my own.

Yuugi, seeing this, came up to me and began peering at my face, as if taking the full measure of the most unassuming member of the group.

"Not often we get lads like you down here. You look like you belong aboveground. Like, miles aboveground."

"I probably do," I chuckled. "But here I am nonetheless."

"You're a brave one." She waved her hand at the distant speck of light. "But we'll have a better time of things in town, instead of out here in the dark. Let's head there first and grab a drink. Then you can tell me everything, and maybe even give me a good fight if you're not feeling totally out of it."

Chapter Text

The five of us sat in a quieter corner of the otherwise rowdy tavern. I had been expecting a lot of company in this part of the underworld, as Marisa had told me that this was where a lot of youkai, oni and spirits and fairies alike, had chosen to make their home after growing tired of the constant charades and factional squabbles that took center stage on the surface of Gensokyo, taking up shelter here in order to live out their lives in relative peace. Yet I had not expected the Former Capital, as this town was known, to be so… homely. Comfortable, even. Not even in the Human Village had I seen so many beings, human or otherwise, gathered together in harmony, sharing drinks, yelling each other's ears off as they bantered and joked. Though I knew that coming down here to Former Hell was a near-impossible task for a relatively normal human such as myself, I could not help but wonder if I would be able to return after I inevitably departed this place, just so I could remind myself that, amidst all the drama and fighting that went on in this realm, there were places where you could simply sit down, have a drink, and enjoy yourself to the fullest.

Former Hell, as the region we were in turned out to be, was a much quieter and considerably less hostile environment than Makai had been. That was understandable, since all the actually hellish elements of Former Hell had long since moved on, leaving naught but its current residents and the occasional spirit here and there that, though usually still vengeful and angry in nature, posed little threat to the collective strength of those who called this place home.

Yuugi Hoshiguma, our current host, was a surprisingly earnest oni, although she was still as blunt and straightforward as the rest of the present members of her race. She had refused her drinking buddies' offer of one of their usual drinking contests, instead sitting us down and ordering a round of sake for the table, which came in flowery clay bowls similar to the one Yuugi had been carrying.

After hearing of Byakuren's mission and our day's travails, Yuugi sat in silence, chin resting on her palm, her bold features crumpled in a deep frown.

"You've sure had it rough. I get why y'all have come all the way down here though, even if this isn't exactly where you want to be."

"We have to find Toyosatomimi no Miko, no matter what." Marisa downed the last of her sake and let the empty bowl roll out of her hands and onto the table. "The problem is that we don't actually know where she is."

"And the last clue you had is basically smoke. I doubt she actually was in Makai, though all the signs pointed to her being there. I get that. Innkeeper!" She waved in the general direction of the bar, and soon a small fairy came running out, jug of alcohol in hand, re-filling our bowls to the brim before hurrying away and disappearing behind the counter. "She was definitely baiting you. I get that people hate each other around here, but she could've gotten y'all killed. Those demons don't even have souls, let alone a conscience. This is why I don't involve myself with that aboveground stuff. If I were there, I'd definitely have taken a whole bunch of them with me, though I'm not that ready to die just yet."

"I appreciate the sentiment, though I certainly am glad to be out," Reimu said. "We can hardly rest on our laurels for long, however."

"We can at least think things over first," I said as I took another sip of the sake. It was an interesting variety, like nothing I had ever tasted in the taverns in the Human Village, with a distinctly fruity note sitting nicely under the general bitterness of the alcohol, and the overall coolness of the climate making its way into my throat, refreshing the parched and dry ceiling near the back of my mouth. "This is very good sake."

"I knew you'd like it. You got a good tongue for this stuff, eh?" Yuugi, who was sat next to me, laughed and punched my chest lightly, though her innate strength meant that my shoulder was thrown a good distance by the impact.

Frowning again, Yuugi tapped my chest. "There's something hard there. You got an ema in there or something?"

"An ema?"

"You know, one of those wish-plaques that people hang up on shrines so that gods can make their wishes come true. I'm sure the Hakurei Shrine has a few."

"Well, no one actually visits the Hakurei Shrine, so…" Marisa's words were swiftly met by a shove and a harrumph from Reimu, and a giggle from Marisa herself.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the smartphone I had retrieved from Cirno. It felt like ages since I had been given the now-otherworldly piece of technology, and yet in my mind I knew it had barely been a few weeks since that time. Time really was relative to one's own perception around these parts, a phenomenon that only ever became clearer in my mind as I made my way through this brave new world.

"What's that?" Yuugi asked, perplexed.

"It's called a smartphone. It lets you communicate over long distances, and you can do other things with it too, like play games on it."

"Games?" Yuugi's eyes lit up. "Can you show me?"

"I would if I could get this thing working. Cirno fished it out of the water, so I am quite sure that its internal wiring has been rendered ineffective long since."

"That stupid ice fairy found this thing?" Marisa drew closer, eyeing the small black box with interest. "I'm surprised she summoned the mental capacity to not throw it back into the lake."

"I daresay she was tempted to," Reimu said, rolling her eyes. "She probably did not wish to disturb the lake's denizens, I suppose."

"Maybe so. It'd be nice if we could get this thing fixed, though. Oh!" Yuugi exclaimed. "I might know someone who might know something about that."

She turned around and searched the tavern's lobby until her eyes rested on a figure huddled over a glass, a tiny form almost completely obscured by the giant blue backpack on its back. "Hey!"

The figure turned, and a stunningly bright blue pair of eyes stared at us for a moment, before turning back to the glass on the table.

"If you come over here, I'll get you some sliced cucumbers," Yuugi continued.

This time, the response was much more spirited, and the little blue-haired girl hopped off her stool and waddled over to us, the weight of her humongous backpack causing her to lean forward slightly as she walked.

"You can put the backpack in the cloakroom, you know."

"Don't wanna." She looked around the table, stopping to stare at Marisa. "Hello, Marisa."

"Hey there, Nitori. Thought you'd be at home, in the ravine. You don't like being underground, as I recall."

"I don't. But I wanted to see the Furnace. Never been down here before."

"Fair enough." Marisa pointed at the smartphone. "You know what that is?"

I handed the smartphone to her. She clasped it in her tiny hands, turning it upside down and flipping it around deftly. "I do."

"Think you got any chance of fixing it?" Yuugi asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's complicated." She peered into the charging socket. "Water has entered."

"How'd you know?" I said, astonished.

"I'm a kappa. I control water. I feel water inside."

"You think it might work again if you draw the water out?"

"I can try. That will cost you two cucumbers."

"If you get this thing working, I'll buy you all the cucumbers you want," Yuugi replied.

"Very well." She placed the smartphone on one hand, and began to circle the phone with the other hand. The phone started to vibrate, spinning slowly as traces of water vapor misted the phone's screen, coalescing into droplets as they rose into the air, collecting at the underside of Nitori's moving palm. The phone ceased its trembling, and she handed it back to me.

"Try it."

I pressed the phone's power button. The screen flickered, then flared brightly, the manufacturer's logo emblazoned across the screen as it booted up.

"It works!" I smiled at Nitori. "Thank you."

"You can thank me with what you promised," she replied bluntly.

"Of course." I looked at Yuugi, who quickly called the innkeeper over again. The little girl returned to her seat, plate full of sliced cucumbers in tow.

"That was… inspiring," I commented.

"Nitori Kawashiro is a smart one, even for a kappa. I never doubted that she'd be able to help."

The smartphone's screen dimmed slightly, and I looked down. The smartphone was working just fine, but it was now displaying a lock screen, with a picture of a mountain range adorning a semi-transparent keyboard. It needed a password, and I was nowhere near guessing what that password might be.

"It's locked," I sighed.

"No, it's not." Yuugi poked the screen. "It's working, isn't it?"

"The phone is operational, but to access its contents it requires a password. A certain keyword that will allow us to use it."

"Then all we need to do is guess what it is, right?"

"That would take forever. It could be any combination of letters that you could think of – it could be any length, and its letters could be in any order."

"That sounds… difficult," Yuugi admitted.

"The only thing we can do now is perform a reset, and restore it to its most basic and original form. That may require certain tools, however."

"Nitori might have the tools you need. She carries a lot of tools in her backpack, and I know she likes tinkering with stuff from the outside world." Yuugi and I turned to look, but the seat was now vacant. The kappa had already polished off her reward, leaving nothing but a wet plate sitting on the countertop.

"She left about a minute ago," Reimu explained.

"Oh. She did say she wanted to go see the Furnace though. Maybe we'll find her there."

"The Furnace as in the Nuclear Furnace?" I asked, recalling what Marisa had told me earlier.

"You know your stuff, huh? The Nuclear Furnace is under the Palace of Earth Spirits, which is where I'm planning to take you next."

"But for what purpose?" Byakuren asked with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Surely we ought to be searching around the underworld for additional information."

"That's why I'm taking you to the person who knows the most around here. She doesn't get many visitors, so I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"The mind-reader?" Reimu appeared somewhat uncomfortable. "I am not overly fond of her."

"You're not overly fond of anyone," Yuugi retorted. She cleaned out her bowl of sake with a single gulp, and stood up. "Let's get a move on."

The rest of us, after finishing off the last of our drinks, followed suit.

As we stepped out onto the streets, Yuugi waving at the raucous groups of drinkers that passed by as we went on our way, I took some time to admire the architecture of the Former Capital. The gently sloping roofs were painted in hues of blue and purple, much like those of the houses in the Human Village, though the shingles appeared considerably worse for wear – unsurprising, perhaps, considering how long ago they had been built, and considering that this used to be part of a more hellish and unwelcoming landscape. Lanterns hung from every other doorway, and more lights from candles and lamps could be seen from inside the entrances. On occasion, I would see an oni or two sitting at a table situated near an open door, glancing at us as we walked, then turning back to their current preoccupations.

Now that we had put some distance between us and the tavern, the streets were much quieter – though there were a couple of other taverns down the road, they were not quite as relaxed or well-frequented, housing only several guests who partook of their drinks in relative silence. The rock on the ground here was smoother and more well-worn, as might be expected of a main street in any village, though the unnaturally dark quality of the stone meant that little could be seen of the footprints of the humanoid pedestrians that used these passageways.

"All we really have to do is follow this street," Yuugi had explained as we left the tavern. "The Palace was built pretty close to the town, so it should be at the end of this road. That's the good thing about Former Hell – it's pretty linear. You could probably walk straight from the entrance at the Deep Road to the Former Capital, then onto the Palace, without ever having to turn left or right."

I could tell that we had begun to reach the town's outer limits by the fact that there were less and less doorways – the lights, too, grew fewer in number. Soon, all that was left were stretches of blank, mahogany walls, and a quietly-burning lantern from time to time. Even that, too, eventually ceased to be, and as the walls ended, we were plunged back into the hungering darkness. Marisa smacked her lamp, and the fire within was summoned, casting its glow several yards in every direction, leaving large, swaying shadows as we marched on.

Just as the town had become the small speck of light that we had seen upon our untimely arrival, another speck of light appeared in the opposite direction, right ahead of us. As that speck grew larger, its features expanded into focus, allowing me to appreciate this next fine example of magical construction.

On the surface level, it did not look to be much of a palace – it had retained the dull gray color of the stone and mortar used to build it, and its arches and spires, though prominent, were relatively simple in shape and structure, its outer walls pocked with black windows that belied no indication or sign of the Palace's residents. Indeed, it was difficult to see how we might enter the Palace until Yuugi ushered us into a moderately-sized iron gate that had been hidden by one of the angular buttresses propped against the Palace's exterior. Yet, what I saw upon entering the Palace itself stood in stark contrast to the impression I originally had of the great building's design. Though the ceiling and walls were very much of similar make, perhaps with the added bonus of marble plaques and some bronze trim lining the walls, the floor of the corridor through which we advanced was a spectacle to capture the most vivid of imaginations. It was covered by a darkened gray-and-black checkered pattern, yet the otherwise bland pattern was punctured by arrays of large, square stained-glass windows, crafted and painted with laborious care, saturated in a warm mauve glow that leant on a darker magenta, their motifs and devices carved in such a way that they refracted the ethereal fire pouring forth from deep within, casting the full spectrum of color over the desaturated walls, the crystalline glint of the marble around us betraying hints of the various colors of the rainbow as our viewing angles shifted. The light danced and rippled throughout the palace interior, never suppressed even when we happened to step on the windows, and the squares stretched as far as the eye could see, until they too were consumed by the inevitable murk that obscured the horizon.

"A great sight to behold," Reimu remarked, echoing my unspoken sentiments.

"Right?" Marisa smiled. "No matter how many times I come here, I can never get tired of this."

"Neither can I. I would not mind returning here once in a while, just to see this. We would have a better time appreciating it, however, if we did not have more pressing issues in mind."

"I get you." Yuugi stopped. "Here, this way."

The wall to our right had opened up into an ascending stairway, illuminated by a single candle, leading into another corridor. As we turned to move into the opening, however, something caught my eye, and I stopped to look down the main corridor one last time.

A small girl was standing some distance away, just in front of where the light gave way to darkness. She had messy green hair and wore a flowing, earthy robe, with a large purple bead hanging haphazardly from her neck.

"What's up?" Marisa asked. I turned to look at her, but when I looked back at the girl, she was gone.

"I thought I saw someone down the corridor," I replied, joining the others at the base of the stairway.

"A lot of things live here. It was probably a fairy or something." Yuugi gestured at the stairs. "Let's keep moving."

We trudged upwards to find the next floor considerably less interesting that that of the ground level, as the only lights here were more candles, placed between rows of large, imposing doorways, and the ground was as opaque as the walls around it.

"That's a lot of doors," I muttered.

"They're all rooms used by the fairies that live here. At least, they only live here because Satori can't be bothered to kick them out, and she likes having company from things that're dumber than her. I'm surprised we haven't seen any resistance, actually. They usually turn up pretty quickly, and they do love a good fight."

As if on cue, a glowing sphere, guarded by five smaller spheres arranged around its circumference, materialized in the air in front of us, spewing sprays of green fire as it flew towards us. Something about the sphere looked familiar, but I couldn't figure out what exactly it was until Reimu summoned a similar-looking sphere from her hand and threw it at the hostile entity. The two spheres exploded on impact, but when the smoke had cleared, only Reimu's sphere remained.

"A wild yin-yang orb?"

"Somewhat. They are materializations of the spiritual energy that permeates this place. They do not exactly have minds of their own, but they have inherent attractions towards powerful sources of energy in their vicinity – in other words, us. They cannot exactly be tamed, as they are forces of nature, and they will explode upon contact with other concentrated regions of energy, so I had to detonate the orb before it reached us."

"Impressive. You do know a lot about these orbs."

"They are my primary weapons, after all. Even if I usually prefer not to use them."

We continued down the corridor, Reimu blasting any errant yin-yang orbs that got in the way, and soon we found ourselves at the end, confronted by a set of white wooden double doors, massive even for this palace's standards. Yuugi rapped on the door forcefully.

"Miss Komeiji?" she called.

For a moment, there was no reply. Then, the doors swung open, and we were greeted by a petite maiden standing in the middle of a large chamber, hands clasped on her abdomen, wearing a frilly pink dress adorned with roses trapped under a blue frock, with what appeared to be cords and wires tangled around her body. These wires all emanated from a single, large red badge plastered on her chest, and to my great surprise, the eye-like pattern decorating the badge blinked. Her short violet hair was cut just above her shoulders, and two velvety purple eyes shone through from between her bangs.

She gave us a small smile, and bowed her head in greeting. "I bid you welcome to my palace."

"I'm guessing you already know what we're here for," Yuugi said.

"I do. I have seen the events that have occurred in your lives this past day. I will help however I can, though how much I can tell you beyond what you already know, I cannot say until I truly know what you already know. That is, of course, if you will allow me to know what you already know." She smiled again.

"You may read whatever you wish, Satori, but there is little that we know in the first place," Byakuren said, stepping forward. "That is why we are here."

"Nevertheless, there may be a clue in your past that you may have otherwise missed. Toyosatomimi no Miko is an enigmatic figure, and rash in her ways, but she is not cruel without necessity." The eye on Satori's chest blinked again, and a look of awe emerged on her face. She came up to me and grasped my hands.

"You remember her!" she exclaimed.

"Who?" I asked, bemused.

"My younger sister, Koishi Komeiji. She sealed her existence away after closing her Third Eye, which rendered her unable to be remembered by the people who saw her. Yet your memories still contain an image of her."

A flash of green hair flitted across my vision. "You mean the girl in the corridor downstairs?"

"Yes, exactly. That was her."

"I didn't know you had a younger sister," Yuugi said.

"You have met her on several occasions. But it is her curse to be eternally forgotten, so I can hardly place any fault with you." Satori's briefly excited features slumped into sorrow. "It is a tragedy that I could have prevented. And so I should have. Yet that is in the past, and I must live on for her sake, keeping my own Third Eye open so I may see in her stead. But it is a surprise, a welcome one indeed, that someone other than I has any lingering memories of her."

"Maybe it's part of one of your latent magical abilities," Marisa suggested. "Though what exactly it might be, I can't say for sure. The ability to remember unmemorable things?"

"I doubt it is as simple as that," Reimu said. "But whatever it is, it must be quite powerful, since I cannot recall ever having seen Satori's younger sister either, even though I have been here several times."

"It must be quite something if two of the best human sorcerers in the land cannot understand it fully." Satori gave me a small smile. "I can see why, and how, you have made yourself comfortable in their esteemed company."

"I'm just a humble traveler," I replied.

"Perhaps, but your past tells me that there is much yet to come for you." The red eye blinked. "I see your arrival, and I see your departure from the library of the great mansion that stands guard before the lake. Yet I can see nothing in between. Why is that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. It is a question I have been trying to answer, too. In fact, I may have been hoping that you might be able to see something that I could not at the time."

"I shall peer deeper, then, if you will allow me." Again blinked the third of Satori's eyes as she closed the other two. "I see a master and a slave, a liege and a servant. I see a repository of knowledge. I see you, entering the Mansion, being offered a drink, and then… No. Something is wrong."

"What? What is wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"All memories are perceived without commencements or conclusions. When you recall a moment in your past, you do not recall the exact time that moment started, only a vague approximation of its beginning. Yet, the memory of you entering the library… is too sudden. It begins too abruptly. Something, or someone, has tampered with the memories that preceded it."

"I had figured as much. I was wondering why there was such a big gap in my memories, after all."

"This does not only concern the ostensible tear in the weave of your recollections. Everything before it, too, appears plastered together. Artificial."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The memories of your awakening and of your entry into the Mansion. They, too, have been fabricated. The erasure of your memories before your awakening are also part of that fabrication. A clumsy attempt at convincing you that you were simply deposited here from the outside world, one that was simple enough for me to unravel."

My eyes widened. "So, you mean-"

"In other words… you may have been here for longer than you may realize. Much, much longer."

"I think we have given ourselves enough trouble to last the rest of the week." Reimu nodded at me, as if to assure me that whatever questions I had would, and could, be discussed under less urgent circumstances. "We have come for answers, not further questions."

"Of course. I apologize." Satori bowed.

"No, thank you," I said hurriedly. "But… yes. We are here on Byakuren's behalf, and our primary reason for coming here was the hope that you might be able to help her in some way." I looked at Byakuren, who returned my glance and gave me a small bow of her own.

"In this regard, I must apologize again, for, as you understand, I have seen very few visitors in the past week. Just as it has been throughout my length of residence here." She sighed, and gave her head a small shake. "I know someone who might know more than me, though. A little bird – a crow, in fact – who works the fires burning just below the Palace."

We were swiftly led back down the stairs, but upon reaching the foot of the stairway, Yuugi began to head towards the way we had came in from.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I have to go back," Yuugi said. "I just remembered that Suika needed a favor."

"Suika?"

"A friend of mine. I wish the four of you the best of luck."

It seemed an unusually hurried departure, but I could find no reason to question her further. We bowed towards each other, then, after watching Yuugi disappear into the darkness, the remainder of our party continued further into the previous corridor that we had been walking down. The mysterious girl, now identified as Satori's sister, did not reappear, though now every time we turned a corner I expected to see something there, waiting, watching us from the shadows. Instead, there was nothing, and we soon arrived at our destination.

It might perhaps be expected that a palace of this size would have a courtyard, yet the wide, empty expanse still took me by surprise when it was revealed upon the opening of the double doors that led to it. It was sparsely decorated, and in the almost nonexistent illumination it appeared little more than a great big mess of black and stodgy dark green from the haphazardly-trimmed grass that filled its confines. Yet, upon closer scrutiny, there appeared to be more than just grass and stone – where the path leading away from the door ended, there was a notably conspicuous dark void, even darker than its already thoroughly-obscured surroundings. As we approached the great hole, the crisp cold of the night gave way to an inexplicable warmth, a gradual sensation that crept over the hairs on my arm, giving rise to the sort of heat-induced chill that usually preceded an outpouring of sweat.

"Wait here," said Satori as we stopped at the mouth of the chasm. It sloped harshly into the ground, but its gradient was still just about gentle enough for Satori to descend with seasoned ease. What little we saw of her soon vanished, and we were left to bask in the unyielding glow of Marisa's lantern, which Marisa had sat on the ground whilst we waited. Marisa squatted next to it and rested the broom on her lap. Reimu folded her arms, and Byakuren, completing the wholly awkward picture, clasped her hands together and stared at the grass beneath her feet.

"Feels like an eternity since we got here," Marisa finally said.

"When you have a problem that you are unable to solve, minutes turn to days," Byakuren noted. "I must admit that I still have my reservations about troubling three of you for an issue that I really ought to be able to solve on my own."

"Without the three of us, you'd never have gotten this far." Marisa patted Byakuren's shoulder. "You might've died in Makai, too. Sometimes it's okay to rely on other people, you know."

"I guess so." Byakuren smiled and placed her hand on Marisa's. "In a way, I think I was trying to prove to myself that I was worth something to the youkai that I had sheltered, which included ensuring their safety against the perils of the world at large, whether it was here in the underworld or in Gensokyo. I know how it feels to be imprisoned, and I know how it feels to then be saved from incarceration. I desire only peace for all who reside within the Barrier – if conflict is necessary, by my reckoning it ought to be swift, quiet, and precise."

"Conflict is a part of the essence of human nature," Reimu said. "It is at the core of the nature of youkai, too."

"Conflict is a product of instinct," Byakuren replied. "Instincts can be suppressed."

"Perhaps, but in my view, conflict is much like magic. Suppression only leads to overflow."

"I suppose our views on nature are unique to our experiences. I only seek to practice what I preach, as do you."

"You are not wrong." Reimu winked, and Byakuren smiled again.

Something in the great hole in front of us rustled, and Marisa, who had been leaning on her lantern, fanning her robes as drops of sweat dripped off her chin, lost her elbow's grip on the lantern's handle and fell to the ground.

Satori re-emerged with an unscrupulous-looking girl in tow. At first glance, so much of the girl's appearance looked utterly out of place: the silky black wings on her back were bound by a wide, glittering cape, and she had a giant red eye on her chest twice the size of the one that Satori bore, while two of her limbs appeared artificially enhanced in some way – her right arm was encased in a bronze cylinder covered in polygonal markings, whilst her right foot was an encrusted, grotesque, rocky mass that lent her an irregular gait. Her face was half-covered in soot, which, coupled with her dark brown hair and equally dark eyes, meant that we could see very little above the neck that was visible in the dimness save for the oversized jade ribbon that sat uncomfortably on her head.

"Hey there," she grinned. "Long time no see."

Byakuren's face fell. Marisa wore a look as if the newcomer had just killed Reimu right in front of her. Reimu, for her part, did not react at all.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten yourself killed yet," Marisa muttered.

"Well, you know me. I'm kinda powerful and all." The girl laughed, which seemed only to incense Marisa even more.

"She has something that might help you," Satori patted the winged girl's head. "Is that not so, Utsuho?"

"Help?" Utsuho tilted her head sideways in apparent confusion. "Help how?"

"That dream you were telling me about, that you were having before I woke you up just now. You should share it with them."

"I don't wanna." Utsuho folded her arms and puckered her lips.

Satori stretched her fingers straight and smacked Utsuho's head with the base of her hand.

"Ow!" Utsuho rubbed the lacy ribbon on her head and stared at Satori, teary-eyed.

"Do as I tell you," Satori said. The third eye blinked, and Utsuho's own eyes dulled.

"Fine," she mumbled.

"What did you just do?" I asked.

"A brief amnesia spell to quell her aggression. Given the frequency with which I use the spell on her, it has a mildly hypnotic effect."

"Is that… safe?"

Satori shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." I gave her an uneasy smile. She raised her eyebrows, and turned back to Utsuho.

"Go on," she urged. Utsuho, in her still hazy state, seemed to struggle to find the right words to say.

"I saw another god," Utsuho finally intoned. "Like the one from before."

"You mean like the time when you caused a crisis aboveground due to your incompetence?" Reimu quipped. I made a mental note to ask Reimu about the story behind that particular incident when I had time.

Utsuho ignored her. "There was a frog. It was the frog from before. Next to her was a fox."

"We're wasting our time," Marisa sighed. "This dumb crow can't tell us anything."

"Wait," Byakuren held up a hand. "By a frog and a fox, do you mean an actual frog and fox, or maidens in the guise of a frog and a fox?"

"Yes," Utsuho replied bluntly.

"She means the latter," Satori offered. "A maiden dressed like a frog, and a maiden dressed like a fox."

"There is only one person in all the realm I can think of who might fit that description. The fox is most probably Toyosatomimi no Miko, which means…"

Reimu frowned. "But why would she be there? That shrine is nothing but trouble."

"Trouble begets more trouble," Marisa commented. "If the crow's being shown a dream like that, and we assume that they know we're here, then that may just happen to be the next piece of the puzzle that we need. It really has been one coincidence after another, unless…"

"Unless what?" Reimu said.

"Unless we're being strung along. If Miko knows we're in Former Hell, she could've had the goddess send that dream to her deliberately, just to bring us there."

"I doubt that is the case," Byakuren said. "What seems more likely is that the goddess is extending her aid to us in some secrecy, so as to inform us of Miko's current location."

"Your faith in the realm's great schemers is your weak point," Reimu muttered.

"Your irrational animosity towards the Moriya Shrine is yours," Byakuren retorted. "All gods and goddesses work and hope for divine favor and worship, nothing more. They do not take sides, and neither should you."

"Cease your bickering," Satori said in an unexpectedly stern tone. "Miss Hijiri, you and your entourage must make haste if you are to make your way to the Moriya Shrine in time. Whether it is a trap or not, you must trust in the gift that has been bestowed upon you, and upon my dearest pet. You must not let this chance slip by. I see the conflict in your heart, but you must banish it in pursuit of the truth."

"I understand." Byakuren bowed, and the rest of us bowed alongside her. "Thank you for your assistance in this matter. It is one that we ought not have concerned you with."

"It is nothing." Satori smiled serenely, though it was a smile that carried some strain. "It has been… entertaining, I must admit. Long have I coveted the company of those as esteemed as that of your ilk."

"Then I pray we shall cross paths again." Byakuren clasped Satori's hands quickly in farewell, and the four of us were ushered back down the corridor and out of the iron gates, which snapped shut quietly behind us.

"Now then." Marisa grabbed my hand. "Take us back to the ship. You better get it right, though."

"Don't worry," I said as Reimu took the other, and Byakuren in turn held onto hers. "I think the goddess of this place knows where I need to go this time."

A rapid swell of energy soon rose within me, and we were whisked safely away from this quiet, reserved corner of the underworld, a place that seemed, to me, was hellish only in name and in precious little else.

Chapter Text

Despite the fact that the Hakurei Barrier was a dimensional construct within which the gestalt realms that formed what we knew as Gensokyo were ensconced, the notion that Gensokyo was a totally separate segment from the outside world, with all links between the two domains completely severed, was at best a mendacious suggestion. Indeed, in many ways Gensokyo was merely a snapshot of the portion of the world it occupied, preserved like a scene in a snow globe, contemporaneous with the era whence I had come. Thus, certain landmarks shared the features that their outside world counterparts carried, and in some cases, even their names remained untouched, forever a reminder of that which once was, and which would always be.

One of those constants was the imposing, omniscient promontory known in the outside world as Yatsugatake, though it was more commonly referred to around these parts as Youkai Mountain, a region inhabited, as one might expect, chiefly by its namesake. The history of the Mountain was rich, like that of any other location holding any significance in Gensokyo: according to legend, the water goddess Konohana-Sakuyahime, offended by the Yatsugatake's erstwhile vertical dominance as compared to Mount Fuji where she herself resided, struck down the Yatsugatake in a splenetic fit until it took on its current stunted form. Iwaganahime, the sister of Sakuyahime, grew tired of her sister's curmudgeonly attitude and made Yatsugatake her home, an act from which Youkai Mountain found its provenance. The oni, nominally and physically the strongest of the youkai, had always kept vigil over the Mountain, but inactivity and lack of common cause soured the audacious oni's attitudes towards their abode, and they departed, leaving the Mountain's future in the hands of the more subordinate species of the youkai, such as the tengu and the kappa. The gregarious tengu and the erudite kappa soon transformed the Mountain into, unexpectedly, a hub of technological activity, developing and expanding what little technology had been left to them through perspicacity, perseverance, and a knack for out-of-the-box thinking. Their influence soon suffused throughout the rest of the realm, and their newfound primacy was such that it may have been the direct reason for the transportation of an entire shrine to the mountaintop, so as to assert that particular shrine's supposed eminence over the other, lesser local cults. One of those local cults being, of course, the worship of the Hakurei god at its own eponymous shrine.

This turn of events had not pleased Reimu one bit, and matters were made even worse when the host of the Moriya Shrine, as the new addition to Youkai Mountain's already-bountiful landscape was known, "offered" to take over Hakurei Shrine and divert the proselytization of the masses towards worship of their own god instead. This understandably did not go down well with the maiden of the already-depleted Hakurei Shrine, yet, perhaps due to their underestimation of Reimu's inherited abilities, the Moriya Shrine's emissaries were soon forced to concede defeat. Far from discouraged, they turned their attentions to what turned out to be the next-strongest magic user in the realm, a little blonde witch residing in the Forest of Magic who had come to tell them off for sowing the seeds of discord in Gensokyo. They were soon brought to heel by her as well.

It was an amusing tale, and one that Marisa told me with much gusto over dinner. We were back in the Human Village, at the tavern which had become my home, though as Byakuren had returned to the original site of her temple-turned-ship to prepare for the next great step in our journey, only Reimu, Marisa and I remained for now.

"Every story I hear you tell me is redolent of the others," I noted. "You're challenged by someone over some misunderstanding, and you beat them into submission. The cycle continues."

"She is a redoubtable foe," Reimu said, wiping the corners of her mouth. "I can more than testify to that."

"Reimu's no less of a force of nature in battle," Marisa chuckled. "We're both formidable in our own ways, I guess."

"Does it ever frustrate you that there are little others who can challenge you?" I asked.

Marisa shrugged. "I don't go looking for fights. Like I've told you, all I really need to do is let my magic out a bit once in a while. Sometimes it just so happens that something's pissing me off, and there's my conduit."

"That makes sense. What about you, Reimu?"

"My mandate is to the Shrine, first and foremost. If it must be defended, so be it. But, like Marisa, I do not seek out opponents."

"How do you usually spend your time, then?"

The two of them paused.

"Honestly, it's hard to say," Marisa said. "A lot does happen, and sometimes I do have to travel far away and engage in a lot of fights so as to help people out or safeguard certain things. But the time between those more interesting events is usually long enough that I kind of just ease into daily habits, like making potions, chatting with people, harvesting mushrooms, and so on. I don't really think about much else."

"But do you enjoy doing stuff like that?"

"Honestly? I do, actually." Marisa gave another shrug. "I think helping people and developing certain personal skills is a good use of my time. You should think about what you wanna do, too, when we're done with this whole business with Byakuren."

"Well, I'm technically still employed at the Suzunaan."

"That you are. Kosuzu has asked after you."

"Did she?"

"For sure. That day we went chasing after Byakuren, she did get me to give her an update on you. She seemed a little worried."

"I suppose I am glad that there's someone watching out for me."

"She is not the only one," Reimu said. "There is a certain… purity about you in your current state that I have come to deeply appreciate. Your unbridled curiosity about the world gives me courage and, if I may say so, has added a little more color to the life I lead. It can be tiring dealing regularly with the same troublemakers over and over again."

"Get a room, you two." Marisa mock-whistled as Reimu slapped her shoulder. "I can't disagree with that, though. It's rare to see a human with an ability like yours, and rarer still that you use it only when necessary in order to help those who need your power."

"I don't think I will ever shake the non-magical human thing away," I said. "I am much too used to doing things the old-fashioned way, with my own two hands, and the legs I have walked with all my life."

"All the better, then, that you do not abuse a power that has been bestowed upon you by fortune," Reimu replied. "Whether it is good fortune or bad fortune, we shall see in time."

"We shall indeed." We completed our respective meals, and I made for the stairs leading towards my chambers. A wave of tiredness from the exertions of my brief but eventful journey washed over me the moment I opened the door, and I made a beeline for the bed, collapsing onto my pillow and drifting into unconsciousness almost immediately.

When I next woke, however, all was not as I expected it to be.

I found the mattress I lay on to be softer than I expected, and so I pulled my eyes open to discover that the frayed wooden ceiling had been replaced by a veil of wide, open night sky. I ran my hand over the bed under my back, and upon discovering it to be made of grass, I bolted upright.

I was in a vast clearing, the mat of vegetation under my feet stretching as far as I could see – which was not very far in each direction, as the only light came from the unhurried blinking of the stars and the sullen glow of what few clouds hung above me.

"Rest easy, traveler," said a voice. I searched for the source of the voice, but it seemed to come out of the shadows that crept in from all around me.

"Who's there?" I called.

"It is expected that you do not recognize me, though your being here has more to do with me than you may currently realize."

"By 'here', you mean…"

"Your current situation, and the circumstances in which you find yourself. Do you remember when Yuugi left you to your business, deep in the Palace that stands watch over Former Hell?"

I nodded. "I do."

"You may wonder about the reason behind her departure. The truth of the matter, as I now reveal to you, is that she had come to tell me of your predicament, through a mutual friend of ours."

The events of that day came back to me in a rush. "Would that mutual friend be Suika?"

"Very much so. As it happened, I knew enough to give you what you needed, but I was unsure how I could communicate it to you. Fortunately for you and for my own self, I had access to the mind of a duller, lesser being, one whose dreams had already once been tainted. She carried my message to her mistress, who then carried it to you. All went as I had planned."

"So you are a member of the Moriya Shrine?"

"A member?" The voice laughed. "I suppose I am, in a way."

"And Toyosatomimi no Miko is there?"

"It is as you say. But I would hurry if I were you – she will only stay as long as she needs to. If you come to the Shrine, ask for me. I shall assist you and your friends."

"How will I know who you are?"

"If you ask the right questions, you will know."

The ground beneath me shifted, and I began to slide backwards, as if I were being dragged bodily from the dream itself. A great maw opened behind me, sucking me in, and though I desperately tried to cling on, there was little to hold on to save for the fragile blades of grass that, too, soon descended with me.

"Wait!" I yelled as the frayed edges of reality began to seep through. "Why are you helping me?"

I could almost hear the voice smile, though the smile, far from graceful, seemed to carry a more mischievous and almost wicked air.

"Any friend of Reimu's is bound to be interesting," came the reply. "I expect to see her, just as I expect to see you."

The abyss swallowed me before I could muster any more words, and the dream perished.

The foot of Youkai Mountain was surrounded by a dense forest, not unlike the Forest of Magic, thick with the taint of magical ether. Though it was known as the Great Youkai Forest, the reason for the name was merely its proximity to Youkai Mountain proper, meaning that the name ultimately proved to be something of a misnomer. Yet that did not make the Forest any less daunting to traverse – its canopy was so thick and burdened with leaves that little to no sunlight was allowed through, and stepping into its embrace was akin to crossing an immaterial border between day and night. As always, Marisa's lantern took its place as our guide, swinging daintily in Marisa's grasp as we began our trek. The combination of opaque fog and heavy magical interference above the treetops apparently meant that flying straight to the Mountain's base would be a fool's errand at best, so we opted to walk.

For the first hour or so, our journey passed with little incident. Then, at some point, our circumstances began to change.

It started innocently enough. A small boulder that Byakuren's foot had dislodged rolled into my path, and my unsuspecting self was somehow sent sprawling by the impact of my toes against the errant rock.

"I apologize," Byakuren said. She helped me up, and we continued walking.

Then came a rustling sound from above our heads, followed by a quiet snap. Before we could see what the sound had come from, it was already too late: a small branch, dislodged from its perch, fell onto Marisa's head, knocking the extravagant headgear off her crown.

"First time is happenstance, second time is coincidence," I muttered.

"I've heard that saying before," Marisa said as she picked up her hat. "What comes next?"

"Third time is enemy action," I replied.

A noise behind us made us jump. Reimu had tripped over an outstretched root from a nearby tree, and was nursing a small red spot on her knee.

"Looks like magic isn't the only thing concentrated here," I commented. "Bad luck seems to be gathering, too."

I had not meant anything in particular by that statement, but for some reason, my words immediately made Marisa stop in her tracks. She snapped her fingers, and a small glowing sphere appeared in her palm.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Stay close," Marisa said in a hushed voice. "The misfortune we're experiencing is no coincidence, as you said."

"You're saying something near us is giving us bad luck?" I said somewhat incredulously.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Out of the darkness, a spell card came flying towards us. Its source was a purplish-blue puff of smoke that seemed to betray the silhouette of a figure standing some distance away. Marisa pulled on the sphere in her hand, stretching it until it was of the form of a long piece of fluorescent mochi, and then clapped her hands together. A shower of star-shaped lights burst forth from her palms, speeding towards the source of the attack, turning the inbound spell card into ash as they rocketed away. They struck their target with an insane fervor, pummeling the figure until it was reduced to a quivering heap on the ground. As the last of the stars dissipated, their work completed, we made our way over to see what misbegotten creature had dared to impinge on the greatest magic users Gensokyo had to offer.

It turned out to be yet another young maiden, one clad with ribbons all over her head and body, and more coiling around her arms and falling over her chest. She wore a dress that bore little embellishment save for a large turquoise swirl splattered over the lower half, sharing a color with her equally striking aquamarine hair.

"Ow," grumbled the maiden, holding the sides of her head as she looked up at us. "Not you again."

"That's my line," Marisa replied. "Why're you trying to kill me?"

"Kill you? Hardly. I didn't know who you were. I thought you were just another bunch of weirdos trying to get yourselves killed up in the Mountain. Not that you're not still a bunch of weirdos, but I admit that was my fault since I didn't check before I threw that at you."

"You better be sorry." Marisa reached out a hand to pull her up, and the maiden took it gratefully.

"I thought you were done with Youkai Mountain," she said, patting her robes. "Only someone like you would want to come here two times in almost as many months."

"As it happens, Hina, I do have business here again. Only this time, I have friends with me."

"So it would seem." Hina scrutinized Byakuren and I carefully. "Haven't seen you two here before."

"And they should be glad for it," Reimu added. "Hina Kagiyama is the goddess of misfortune. Ill luck befalls all who cross her path."

Upon hearing this, both Byakuren and I backed away slightly.

"It's under control," Hina insisted. Neither of us moved.

"Anyway, if you don't have any more to add, we should be on our way." Marisa pushed past Hina, and the rest of us followed, leaving Hina to her own devices.

No one said anything for a while. Then, hearing something, I turned to see Hina trailing us, keeping a significant distance between her and our party.

Marisa stopped and turned as well. "What do you want?"

Hina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you following us?"

"I'm not following you."

"You clearly are. You're walking in the same direction as we are. That's following."

"I just happen to be going in the same direction as you are."

Marisa rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say." We continued walking, the goddess of misfortune still incessantly pegged to the path we were taking.

The darkness beyond the reach of Marisa's lamp was so overbearing that even the tiniest bright speck felt like a veritable light at the end of a tunnel. So, upon the long-awaited materialization of a distant white dot, we hurried over to what soon revealed itself to be our way out of the thicket.

Having had to trudge through the Forest with a black blanket over our eyes for the better part of an hour or so, the sun immediately took to blinding us upon our exit from the great jungle. Our eyes adjusted, and we were given the reprieve we sought: the Mountain, in all its glory, lay dead ahead.

Our road towards the foot of the Mountain contained an unexpected feature: a small cliff from which a pair of large cataracts spewed forth their foamy loads. Between the two streams was a large crevasse, a wanton cleaving in half of the rock, which let off a strange but brilliant cerulean hue under the auspices of the benevolent sunshine. It was towards this unusual crack that we headed, and as the myriad details decorating the cliff became clearer, what seemed to be a network of iron pipes, fully reflecting the color of the rock around which they snaked, came into view.

"A sewer network?" I asked.

"Far from it," said Hina. She began walking away from us, taking a trajectory parallel to the sides of the cliff.

"Where are you going?" Marisa asked.

"I have some business to attend to here. I told you I wasn't actually following you, right?"

"Oh. Right."

It was now Hina's turn to roll her eyes. She gave us a perfunctory half-wave before going on her way, disappearing behind an outcrop just under one of the waterfalls.

"How are we supposed to go over this?" I asked. The rock face was small compared to most others, but it was still a few dozen feet tall, and the pipes appeared to offer no support for any who might wish to scale up the precipice.

Marisa pointed at the gap in the rock. "We squeeze through here. Don't worry, it gets bigger as we go deeper in."

We clambered into the opening. True to Marisa's word, it quickly widened until the four of us were able to walk shoulder to shoulder. It turned out to be a ravine, one carved out by the relentless toil of the now greatly diminished stream of water that ran through its center. The gorge's sides grew taller, too, until their height was such that a turn in a direction perpendicular to the sun's location plunged us into an unnatural shadow.

It was not long before we got our first taste of what the mountainfolk looked like. A dwarfish-looking girl sat on a protrusion parked alongside the running water. In her hand was a stick, with which she poked at the polygonal cracks that marred the ground. As we watched, she waved the stick around, and the water, deviating from its natural course, followed the stick into the air, desiccating the areas where it was normally supposed to flow. She relaxed her grip on the stick, and the water fell back to the ground, meandering sheepishly back to its original route. Judging by her control of water, and recalling the power that Nitori Kawashiro had utilized back in Former Hell, I surmised that this tiny lifeform must be a kappa.

"Hello, little kappa," I said.

The girl stared at us blankly.

"The kappa are shy creatures," Reimu explained. She motioned for me to give her my hand, and placed a cold, wet object in it. A cucumber slice, as it turned out. I gave the slice to the kappa, who quickly took it and began munching on it.

"What possessed you to bring a cucumber slice with you?" I asked Reimu.

"I figured we would pass through here, so I thought it best to bring a few." Reimu opened the dress pocket near her hip to reveal a pouch, within which I assumed were more cucumber slices.

"Prepared as always, I see." I turned back to the kappa, who had finished eating her slice and was looking at us expectantly. "Do you know the best way up the Mountain?"

She nodded, and, hopping daintily onto the floor, beckoned for us to follow. Follow we did, and we were soon greeted by a second kappa, and a third not long after. All did little to make us welcome, though successive cucumber slices soon sated their curiosities – and their hunger.

"Is this where the kappa live?" I asked.

"Sort of," said Reimu. "This is the entrance to where the kappa live."

As if on cue, the gorge abruptly widened in front of us, melting into the open arms of the stream of water it bore, which had become a fully-fledged river, its banks now bristling with jagged weeds and tall grass. The place was a valley of sorts, tucked into the side of the Mountain, its aggressively steep sides like two buttresses hammered into the rock.

"I don't think I've come this side of the Genbu Ravine before," Marisa said, looking around in wonder.

"This is the land of the kappa." Reimu gave our guide another cucumber slice. She took the present graciously, then skipped away to join her friends. Word soon spread of the newcomers, and a small crowd of kappa gathered around our feet, peering at us with unbridled inquisitiveness. "Welcome to the Untrodden Valley."

"For an untrodden valley, this place seems well-populated." Something at the back of the crowd caught Marisa's eye. "Look!" she said, waving frantically.

A small hand waved back tentatively. Its owner was a face that, although quite similar in frame to the other kappa, carried a distinctly timid and reticent look.

"Nitori Kawashiro," I noted.

We made our way over to her, and after exchanging bows, Reimu, as was customary, handed her a slice.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"Very well. Thank you." The kappa turned to me. "You have the smartphone?"

"Me?" I said, slightly taken aback that she had remembered me, let alone the fact I had a smartphone with me. "Yes, I do."

"It needs a reset," Nitori said matter-of-factly.

"I… Yes, it does."

"Come with me," she said. "I will reset it for you."

"Why?" I asked, though perhaps that was a question best not given to one who was offering me a favor.

"Don't look the gift horse in the mouth, traveler," Marisa said, as if reading my mind. "You might as well find out what you can do with that thing."

"You're right. Thank you," I said hurriedly.

Without another word, Nitori turned and walked away. The crowd of kappa dispersed as quickly as it had coalesced, and we were free to move on.

As the land sloped upwards and the river water climbed with it, it began to split into a series of tributaries. Though some were larger than the others, as was to be expected, they soon too diverged into their own feeder streams, and it was up one of these smaller side creeks that we were led, until we were far removed from the hum of activity around the base of the river where the kappa milled about, squeaking excitedly at each other as they enjoyed themselves in the sun.

The stream twisted and turned around the rock, occasionally falling into a small pool created by a trough in the ground, only to bubble out of the pit and re-establish its course with dogged determination. The glint of the sunlight frolicked playfully on the water as it sloshed back and forth, leaving little spots in my vision that faded as quickly as they had materialized.

One of the eroded pools that we came across was dammed by a levee of packed clay and branches, leaving the water level inside much reduced, and it was towards this particular pool that Nitori waddled before jumping in with reckless abandon, splashing water all over our clothes. Upon closer inspection, we saw that the scattered branches and leaves around the pool carefully hid a series of drawers built into the rock. Nitori opened one of these drawers, revealing a desk that could be pulled out or retracted at will. She yanked on a thick cable tied to the desk, and a jumble of tools fell out of the drawer's recess, clattering loudly as they fell. She pulled on another drawer, this time extending a long, cushioned seat that ostensibly served as her bed. She gestured for us to sit, and we duly did so.

She patted the table and motioned for me to put the smartphone down. I obliged, and she immediately set to work, plugging the phone into a small iron container with a clasp that held the phone in place. She then sat her massive backpack down next to her, and, to my astonishment, a mechanical arm emerged from under the large flap covering the backpack, clicking its claws together in anticipation, as if it were a chef stood before its ingredients, ready to work its magic. At the palm of the claw was a long jack plug which immediately made itself at home in the phone's open socket, vibrating and humming contently as the arm set itself to its task.

It was but a matter of minutes before, having completed its mission, the arm whirred contently back into the socket whence it had come. Nitori handed the phone back to me, and, with some nervousness, I gingerly held the power button until the little black box came to life. I whizzed past the introductory steps required to bring the phone back to full capacity, the steps taken simultaneously familiar and yet bizarrely foreign to me, so accustomed had I been to separating myself from the technology around which my life had revolved. Marisa, Reimu and Byakuren watched me with somewhat casual intrigue, though I could tell from Marisa's widened eyes that she would like a hands-on demonstration for herself. Having completed the setup, I gave the phone to her, and she took it excitedly, swiping left and right, up and down, and pressing anything that caught her attention – usually whatever had just popped up on the screen. Once she'd had her fill of things, she returned it to me.

As expected, there was no mobile service to be found – not that there would be any at our location in the outside world, either, since we were smack bang in the middle of the mountains. Ultimately, I wondered if all the effort taken to carry it around would amount to nothing, as without any means of connecting to the rest of the world, and no one else to call or text, the phone served as little more than a memento of a formerly familiar place that grew increasingly foreign to me by the day. I explained this to the others, and though they briefly displayed some semblance of disappointment, they – Byakuren in particular – knew as well as I that our raison d'etre on this mountain still lay ahead, and Nitori's favor inevitably amounted to little more than a distraction to sate Nitori's intrinsic need to tinker.

Nitori, now physically and mentally satiated, agreed to take us further upwards. The kappa had little need to venture any farther up than the valley that they called home, yet this did not mean they did not know enough about the altitudinal geography of the Mountain to guide travelers through the potentially hazardous terrain. We left the pools behind and, after sifting through the thicket surrounding the streams, we found ourselves on a road, hastily cleared, but clearly well-trodden. A small group of kappa were making their way up the mountain ahead of us, and it was this group that we now followed along the path towards the heavenly reaches of the summit.

The trek, according to Nitori, would take a couple of days at best, though depending on the level of hostility our warband faced, it might take a great deal longer. Smooth travels had never been something to be taken for granted in Gensokyo, and yet we found the first couple of hours of our journey remarkably unremarkable, save for a brief interlude.

At a plateau in the gradient of the mountainside, the trees briefly gave way to a field of stunning lilac, painted by a dense mat of flowers. The flowers had thin petals, but the petals were so tightly packed together that they formed round bulbs, each dollop a drop in the ocean awash with pink and purple that stretched before us.

A disturbance in the surface of the sea gave way to a mess of silver hair flowing over a black and red robe. The figure turned and smiled in greeting. We bowed, and approached her via the only way through the field, a thin line of trimmed grass that ensured the flowers would not be trodden on by passersby.

"Welcome," she said, her voice carried aloft by the afternoon breeze.

"Hello," said Nitori, coming to a stop next to the figure's waist. The figure bent down and kissed Nitori's forehead. Nitori flinched, but said nothing.

"What brings you here?" she asked. Before any of us could answer, she continued. "Though, if you are here, it must have something to do with the Moriya Shrine."

"It does indeed," said Byakuren. "We are looking for two friends, as well as an enemy."

"A difficult task, especially when allies readily turn to adversaries," the figure replied almost wistfully. "But you are a good mix of talents," she turned to me, "especially you."

"Me?" I said, bewildered.

"You are a scion of the outside world. Few who make it here adapt as readily as you have – fewer still learn the secrets that set their magical potential alight, coaxing it from a small flame into a blazing inferno. There is much for you to learn yet, but your journey has already begun. All you need to do is to keep walking."

"How did you find out about the traveler?" Reimu asked.

"The dollmaker is a ready source of information." As she said this, we could hear a sigh slip out from under Marisa's breath. "But I ought not keep you any longer." She pulled four buds from a nearby stem and handed them to us. "Peonies, for good fortune."

"Thank you," said Marisa on our behalf. We slipped them into our respective pockets or pouches, and went on our way again. That amounted to all the entertainment we enjoyed until the sun began to set, though as I learned much later, Eirin Yagokoro, the lunar goddess tending to her earthly peony fields, had been withholding many secrets of her own.

The sun had relinquished its vigil over the mountainside, although this did not mean we were condemned to the dark for long – the moon, an equally vigorous and enthusiastic actor on the great stage above us, took its lines well and ensured that the way forward remained somewhat clear, even if the forest had thickened to such a point that the drab blue moonlight only found its way through the net of leaves and branches in bits and pieces, leaving many vital parts of the leafy soil obscured. A wave of Marisa's hand brought her lantern to bear, and its quietly powerful ochre glow led us onwards unto the night.

Nowhere in the outside world would you have found a sanctuary of nature quite like the realm of Gensokyo. Even in the most remote of places in the world beyond the Barrier, the stain of the human touch lingered: a bottle might wash up against the shore, its colorful plastic packaging glinting in the sunlight; a tent might lay discarded against the rocks on a grassy hillside, left to blow away into oblivion. Here, where the hands of the great clock that moved fates forward were pulled back by the collective desire of Gensokyo's denizens for an everlasting peace, life remained static, a snapshot of an idyllic landscape that lived under the notion that, in essence, what wasn't broken ought not be fixed. As an ideal, Gensokyo was incorruptible. Uncontaminated. Pure.

Yet that ideal was nothing if not a lonely one. In its quest to turn itself into a haven, Gensokyo, in many a sense, had rather taken on the appearance of a prison. No one would freely admit it, but even in the vastness of the land that it housed, alongside the many interdimensional realms that were linked to it, there was a sense that the truth of the world without was still being withheld from those who resided within. The Barrier was the sole reason magic as we knew it could still exist, even serving as its greatest exponent, and yet after so many years of captivity, there was a growing discontent amongst the populace that manifested itself into ever-escalating conflicts, ones that threatened to tear the realm apart without the outside world having to lift a finger.

Marisa had privately shared a similar sentiment with me in one of our many chats during my "off days", as I had come to call the few times when I could simply return to my open position at Suzunaan and whittle the day away, then have dinner at the inn before retreating to my room and repeating the process. A couple days before our journey into the Mountain, we had been in my room, enjoying the candlelight and each other's company, making small talk over glasses of her trademark lemongrass.

"It does get boring," Marisa said. "I enjoy the company of the people here thoroughly, but at the same time I've always felt that itch, that need to know what's going on. It's why you always see me stop by the bookstore, especially recently. Your arrival has piqued my interest in the outside world somewhat, and I'm sure it's the same with Reimu, and Byakuren, and all the others who've met you. There's a lot I don't understand, but then again it's hard to understand a whole new world just by reading books about it alone. Places have to be visited and experienced in order for them to take on their full meaning."

"I can sympathize with that," I replied. "It's probably the reason why I'm so willing to tag along with you and Reimu and Byakuren, even though I'd probably increase my chances of survival dramatically if I just stayed and worked in the Human Village."

"Well, we do need you around just in case we get into trouble," Marisa chuckled. "But yes, I can see that. I would probably do the same if I could somehow make my way outside the Barrier. After all, it's all well and good that you'd keep your life intact if you stayed here. Yet without any meaning to give it, life is… not really worth living. An empty existence is, in some ways, worse than death – to feel nothing is to have nothing. It may be as you say – Gensokyo may be a prison. But it is the world I know, and its people are my friends. That's all there is to it. I hope you can say the same, too, after your time here."

I smiled. "That reminds me of something I told Patchouli Knowledge before I left the Scarlet Devil Mansion. She'd asked me to stay and work on my magical abilities, but I'd told her that, to me, Gensokyo was as limitless as any mind."

"It's a strange irony that we often say the mind is limitless, and yet all of its potential is trapped," she tapped her head, "in this tiny cranium. Even so, I would have said the same if I were you. Plus, far be it from me to say this, but Patchouli is a somewhat suspicious character. In fact, everyone who works at the Scarlet Devil Mansion is a mystery in their own way, and the Mansion's geographical seclusion only enhances its reputation in that regard."

"I got the same vibe from her, to be honest with you." I took a sip of my lemongrass and sighed. "Especially now that I've learned that some of my memories might have been faked whilst I was there."

Marisa reached over and gripped my arm. "We'll be back there, for sure. And we'll get to the bottom of this."

In the present, I looked over at Marisa, her young, boisterous features a frame of calm and silent determination sculpted in the humming glow of the lantern, carved and trimmed by the ebbing wash of the moonlight. I had by now gotten so accustomed to her refreshingly straightforward advice and open-minded worldviews that there was a certain comfort to just being around her, as if she were a frilly, golden-locked anchor by which the galleon I had sailed into Gensokyo on was planted firmly into the seabed, keeping my two feet physically and psychologically on the ground lest I be swept away by the broiling tides that constantly told and re-told the story of Gensokyo with gratuitous abandon. For that, I owed her more than my simple existence – I owed her, and the people who had welcomed me, my reason for being here.

The sound of water lapping against slanted rock brought me back to my senses. We had come to the banks of a great pool, dotted by lotuses that milled about, brushing against each other before quickly floating away as if embarrassed by their own daring. The breeze, cool only to a wet touch, lent the air we breathed a frost-tipped, soothing sharpness.

As our gazes followed the path of the pond's boundaries, we spied a small hut-like structure, its silhouette hidden amongst the trees, peeking out shyly from behind its cover. Upon closer inspection, we discovered that it was, in fact, a shrine: a small altar was placed in front of the door, and there were clearly signs that people had stood in front of it and offered gifts to whichever god they desired to appease, though any signs of the offerings themselves were long gone, leaving only dry shapes on the altar's surface to indicate their former presence.

"We stay here for the night," said Nitori. She slid the door open and disappeared into the shrine.

The rest of us looked at each other.

"Might as well shack up," said Marisa. "Won't be any less safe than sleeping out in the open."

The shrine appeared smaller than Reimu's from the outside, and proved to be even more dilapidated from the inside. It had been re-boarded with oak planks, but even those had long since given themselves to nature, with vines and weeds seeping through the many gaps in the walls. There were no windows, so we left the door slightly ajar, allowing the night air to seep through.

Nitori placed her backpack on the floor and opened it, withdrawing a set of folded mattresses and blankets that she duly unsprang and laid out. It was a tight squeeze, but there was just about enough room for any expressive sleepers to sprawl their limbs out without waking the others. But before we could take to our rest, Nitori reached into her backpack again, this time taking out a large peach-shaped sweet bun, white at its base, fading to pink at its apex. She sat the bun on the altar outside the shrine, then closed the door again.

Marisa and Byakuren frowned and looked at Nitori quizzically. Reimu remained as she always did in times of comfort, staying quiet, eyes closed in contemplation.

"For the toad," Nitori explained bluntly.

Before we could say another word, she curled up next to her backpack, pulled one of the blankets over her tiny form, and did not move again. None of us felt it necessary to pursue the matter further – we had come to trust the little kappa who, despite not saying much, often turned out to know more than she would ever let on. And indeed, when the morning came and the sun flitted across our eyelids, we awoke to discover that the bun had vanished.

The many streams running through the valley at the foot of the Mountain bifurcated repeatedly until they vanished into the soil, soaking into the loamy clay beneath the feet of the multitude of travelers who made their way up and down the slope. As one traced the paths of these streams upwards, one might eventually find themselves at the foot of a waterfall, a great monument to the wondrous workings of physics through its manifestation in gravity, erosion, and other such natural phenomena. Gensokyo, being part of the Earth even in its chronologically alternate dimensional form, remained bound to the laws that governed the outside world, and waterfalls were definite proof that mountains needn't be moved by magic – they could be moved well enough on their own terms. The waterfall that stood before us, its uneven load cascading into a pool from which billowed a dense cloud of vapor, was said to be the greatest of its kind, so much so that it had been given a name to call its own: the Waterfall of the Nine Heavens.

Though the water crashed down with reckless and irrepressible abandon, it was not so cruel as to sunder all that attempted to pass through its curtain of foamy white. In fact, the waterfall was broken in many places due to the jagged rocks that jutted out here and there throughout its path downwards. Scattered flower petals, soaked thoroughly by their trip through the great wash, clung tightly to these protrusions in the hopes of not being dashed against the unforgiving rip and tear of the waterfall's plunge pool.

"Quite a sight," I commented.

"Isn't it? I never get tired of coming here." Marisa spread her arms out and let the faint wisps of vapor fall over her body. "It's so refreshing just to sit here, or somewhere farther away, and just enjoy the sunshine. We don't have time for that, unfortunately, but we'll definitely come back someday."

Nitori nodded vigorously in fervent agreement. "Waterfalls are very nice to play in."

"I certainly hope we can return." Byakuren clasped her hands together, as if in prayer to whatever gods inhabited the splendid sight before us. "When we do, it will hopefully be in much better circumstances."

"Indeed." Reimu patted Marisa's broom. "I suppose we will have to make use of this again."

"It won't be an easy ride." Marisa scratched her chin. "I've only flown up a couple times, but it's always been a pretty bumpy trip."

"Right," I said. "Feels like the water might be hard to negotiate, somehow."

"That's not it." Marisa's eyes narrowed. "Look."

She pointed at something in the distance, far above our heads. I squinted, trying not to let the sun remain in my vision for too long. The sky was clear, the clouds that normally hovered around the Mountain conspicuously absent, though the wads of foam spitting out from the waterfall took their place in trying to obscure the sunlight. The sun's rays were slightly refracted by the waterfall spray, and the result was a brilliant display of dazzling color dancing in my eyes. Or at least, that was what I initially thought.

The color seemed to coalesce as it twirled about in the air, before gradually taking on the form of petal-like butterflies. There was clearly more at work than science could explain, though I had already become used to taking magic at face value, without overly questioning the reason behind things that couldn't be explained.

"They're sunflower fairies," Marisa explained. "They take on a variety of colors, but they all hold sunflowers in each of their hands. Hence the name."

I pressed my eyelids together, trying to make out the forms of the fairies. As expected, each one of the tiny silhouettes seemed to contain a small yellow speck within them, clutching the dots closely to themselves as they pranced and pirouetted.

"They don't look like much to fear," I commented.

"They really aren't, but they're more trouble than they're worth. You three will need to hang on tight."

"I will handle them." Reimu spread her arms out, letting fly an impressive array of paper seals and spell tokens that formed an orderly ring around her body. "Let us make haste."

She closed her eyes and began to hover, slowly rising into the air as her feet lifted gently off the rocky ground. We clambered onto Marisa's broom and followed closely behind.

As we began to accelerate in our ascent, the fairies' dainty features came into view. Their wings branched into swirls of every hue imaginable, and a barely audible chitter could be heard rising above the wash of noise generated by the cascading water whose path we now traced. The chitter began to increase in volume, not just because we were getting closer, but because they were starting to notice the presence of the unwelcome intruders encroaching upon them from below.

Reimu grasped one of the spell cards surrounding her and threw it into the mass of fairies. It exploded into flame and lightning, sending bolts of energy spearing out across the thicket of bodies. A rain of dazed and utterly incapacitated tiny figures began to fall, and I watched as they dropped into the pool far below, now mostly obscured by the misty vapor blown upwards by the waterfall.

"They'll be fine," Marisa said, as if reading my thoughts. "The water will cushion their fall. Plus, they're light enough that dropping from pretty much any height won't leave them with anything more than a few bruises."

"I suppose that's a relief." Truth be told, I ought to have no sympathy for these creatures, but there was something about their small humanoid forms that at the very least sparked a small twinge of worry in my heart. A sense of pity, maybe, if nothing else.

The remaining fairies, of which there were still many, began to merge into an angry swarm that descended upon us in the manner of bees defending their hive from danger. Of course, we were mere passersby and would probably have preferred to avoid any action if we could – at least, I would have. I could perhaps not say the same for Reimu, who had a glint in her eye that I had seen whenever she was called to war. She might take on the veneer of a docile shrine maiden, but there was still enough magic inside her to bring the entire realm to heel, and she wasted no time in bringing that power to bear. Piece by piece, our enemies were razed by the fire and fury of the Hakurei Shrine's latest export.

Those who survived the onslaught soon realized that they could do little in the face of such overwhelming odds, and decided to plunge into the waterfall, ostensibly deciding that being swept away by the endless current was a preferrable fate to being scarred, both physically and mentally, by the myriad forces of nature. Reimu, observing that the obstacles in front of her had fled, withdrew her seals and cards into her sleeves, leaving only a clear sky above our heads and absolutely no indication that a battle – if you could call what had just transpired a battle – had ever taken place.

"See?" Marisa beamed. "Nothing to worry about. Thanks, Reimu."

"You are most welcome." Reimu looked back us and winked.

A couple of minutes passed with no incident, Marisa humming a tune that was drowned out by the crashing of water only several dozen meters away, Reimu hurtling upwards with the same focus and seriousness that she always bore, Byakuren and Nitori simply sitting in silence and enjoying the breeze that whistled past our faces as we flew. But, given the nature of Gensokyo and its denizens, we knew that any minute without incident was another minute closer to the next trouble that we would encounter.

Surely enough, we soon found ourselves approaching an outcrop protruding from the waterfall's stark white façade. Reimu and Marisa both decelerated, and I enquired as to whether we were taking a break.

"It's only been a few minutes, we don't need a break." Marisa sighed. "Quite the opposite, actually."

As if on cue, a silvery gray blur peeked out from behind the outcrop. I squinted, but I could not make out any defining features, save for what looked like a pair of remarkably fuzzy ears.

"What's that?" I pointed to the blur.

"That, traveler, is the waterfall's dutiful watchdog," Reimu replied. "Momiji Inubashiri."

The five of us landed on the outcrop, and the obscured grayish silhouette that had been observing us was cast into full view. A pair of fluffy ears and an equally voluminous tail were the first features that stood out, though an unusually large set of ruby-like eyes also caught my attention. Throw in a white cotton top flanked by a long, flowing black dress with licks of flame emblazoned across the fabric, and the unusual nature of our latest challenge soon became apparent. Marisa hopped off the broom and gestured for us to do the same.

"Good day to you, Momiji." Reimu bowed.

Momiji said nothing in response. Instead, she raised her eyebrows, as if suddenly discovering an unwelcome surprise, and leered at something behind us. We all turned to look at the rearmost member of our party, who now almost looked as if she were attempting to hide behind Byakuren's robes, and failing miserably due to the massive backpack on her shoulders giving her away.

"You, kappa!" Momiji exclaimed. "I've been looking for you!"

"For Nitori?" Byakuren instinctively stretched her hand out, as if trying to block Nitori from view. "Whatever for?"

Momiji began to march towards us, and as she approached, Nitori seemed to shrink further and further behind Byakuren, until all we could see of her was the bulging mass of the backpack peering out from behind Byakuren's robes. The wolf-like girl stopped in front of Byakuren, who was now holding a hand to her cheek in bemusement, and began to swivel around her. Nitori did the same, edging as far away from Momiji as possible, until both of them were revolving around Byakuren in the manner of a savage tribe doing a ritual dance around their evening feast.

"Stop it." Marisa planted a hand firmly on each of their heads, eliciting pained squeals from both. "Explain to me what's going on."

"That kappa owes me my money back," Momiji harrumphed and crossed her arms, glaring at Nitori. "She cheated me out of my money."

"No I didn't." Nitori pouted. "The dog is lying."

"So, why were you running away?" Reimu asked. Nitori had no answer.

"See?" Momiji tried to pull Marisa's hand off her hair, only for the witch to press down even harder and draw another yelp from the wolf-girl.

"Be that as it may, you're not to trouble the kappa. We need her to guide us up the Mountain." Marisa glanced at Byakuren, who still looked utterly hapless. "And don't bother Byakuren, either."

"Fine, fine." Momoiji sighed and nodded, and Marisa relinquished her grip on Momiji's hair. "But the kappa needs to answer for her crimes."

"What crimes? What did you do?" Marisa asked, though she soon released Nitori as well.

"We played shogi," Nitori replied. "I won."

"You cheated!" Momiji pointed a finger at Nitori's nose. "We had a bet to see who would win, and she used her water manipulation skills to push one of my pieces away when I wasn't looking. I heard her!"

"You… heard her?" I asked quizzically. "Pushing a tiny little shogi piece?"

"Tengu as a whole have considerably heightened senses," Reimu explained. "Even the so-called lesser species of tengu do. I daresay Momiji saw us the moment we entered the valley. It wouldn't surprise me that she was able to hear a shogi piece being shifted, though I can't testify as to the strength of a tengu's hearing."

"But maybe I can."

All of us turned towards the voice that had just spoken up. Another white top and another black dress greeted us, though this particular figure was crowned with short, dark brown hair and a miniature red hat. She carried a large fan that had been cut into the shape of a maple leaf, which she now used to cool herself as she walked towards us.

"The crow tengu," Momiji snarled.

"Now, now." The newcomer smiled, though her smile carried a hint of annoyance. "I'm not here to fight you today, although I know you'd never best me in a proper battle anyway. The wind told me of a story that I could tell, so I came as fast as I could."

"You were certainly very fast," Byakuren remarked before Momiji could muster a retort. "I did not notice your arrival at all."

"I just hopped off the edge of the waterfall. Wasn't all that hard." The crow tengu paused and stared at me. "So, you're the hot new thing everyone's been talking about."

"Who has been talking about me?" I asked, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, you know. I hear things here and there." She reached her hand out. "Name's Shameimaru. Just call me Aya."

"Please to meet you, Aya." I shook the hand firmly. "What's this about a story in the wind?"

"Oh, of course. I haven't told you, have I? I'm a news reporter. I run the Bunbunmaru."

"A news reporter?" I scratched my chin in thought. "Here? In Gensokyo?"

"What, don't you have news reporters where you're from?"

"Of course. I just didn't really think Gensokyo required a news service of any sort."

"Gensokyo may not be a large place to you, but to us who live here, it's the world as we know it." Aya leaned towards me, scrutinizing my features. "So, I've been meaning to probe you on a few things. Why don't you come with me to my office? The rest of you can come too, of course. Except the dog, she can stay where she is. Also, if you need a guide for the rest of the trip, I can help you out in return for a few tidbits. What do you think?"

I looked at the others. "Well?"

Marisa shrugged. "It's your story. Honestly, I see this as a win-win. Aya gets the latest scoop on you, and we get a much more reliable way up. No disrespect to you, Nitori, but Aya actually lives up here, and she does have something of a… reputation, so we'll be a lot safer with her around. If that's alright with you, then you can go back to the valley."

Nitori nodded. "I will leave, then." She hopped into the wall of water from which the outcrop sprouted – doing so with unusual haste, considering the size of the load on her back – and vanished out of sight.

"Hey, wait!" Momiji barked, but it was far too late for her to catch up.

"I guess your guide is gone, so…" Aya grinned. "Shall we head up?"

I chuckled. "I suppose so."

The rest of the broom ride remained as uneventful as could be expected, though it was somewhat curious that Momiji decided to follow us, given the seemingly bad blood between her and our new helper. When Aya inquired as to why she was still around us, Momiji muttered something along the lines of having a score to settle that could wait until later. Aya shook her head, and we continued on our way.

Aya's office was situated some distance from the cliff from which the river running down the Mountain spewed its watery load. It was well hidden by a fence of trees, though the office building itself, a two-story shack of rock and what appeared to be concrete – the first time I had seen a material of that sort in Gensokyo – was in the center of a clearing, which allowed anyone inside the office to spot potential intruders infringing on their workspace. The first floor was mostly covered with glass windows, again a characteristic unique to this building, and on the door was hung a small wooden plaque bearing the name "Bunbunmaru Newspaper".

Aya pushed the door open and allowed us in, though she appeared to bristle at the sight of Momiji following behind us.

"Why are you still here?" Aya groaned, her frustration now evidently mounting.

"I need to know more about the traveler so I can report to Tenma," Momiji stated matter-of-factly.

Aya sighed. "Fine. I know how much he wants to know about what's going on, especially this high up the Mountain. I guess we'll have to put our differences aside for now."

"You better do your job properly."

"Don't look down on us crow tengu," Aya snapped. "We know what we're doing."

"Whatever you say."

Aya motioned for us to sit on the couch in her study. It was a surprisingly modern room, with the only truly antique-looking item being the lantern that was used to light up the corners of the room that weren't already illuminated by the sun streaming in through the row of windows. Placed on the desk was a plastic tray, of all things, and on top of that tray was a sizably large pile of paper.

"I didn't know you had plastic in Gensokyo." I gave the tray a quick rap. It was nice to feel something plastic from my world again, aside from the casing of the now-working smartphone that I carried around.

"This thing was spirited in from the outside world." Aya gazed at it fondly. "I found it at an antiques store in the Human Village. Most people didn't know what to do with it, so they overlooked it. But, as you may already know, I am not most people. Anyway, if you could sit here please."

I sat myself down at the chair in front of her desk. Aya leaned into her own office chair and hummed as she leafed through what looked like a questionnaire.

"I've got so many questions for you, but I know you might be in a hurry," Aya said, glancing at Byakuren as she spoke. "For now, I'll settle with half a dozen or so. First off, you say you woke up in the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Do you remember anything before that?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing. Though Satori told me that my mind had been tampered with."

"Satori Komeiji told you this? Interesting." Nitori scribbled onto a small notepad. "So, you've been to Former Hell."

"I have indeed."

"I'm surprised I didn't know about this, although I typically prefer not to venture into the underworld. It's too… suffocating." Aya shivered. "Satori is a strange one. Heaven only knows what she's doing in that big old palace, alone with her pets."

"Alone?" I frowned. "She has a sister living with her. Koishi Komeiji."

"No, she doesn't," Aya replied. "If she did, I would know about it."

"That's the thing, though," I said hurriedly. "I am the only one who remembers her."

"The traveler is right," Marisa added from behind me. "Satori confirmed it herself. She has a sister that no one can remember after they leave her vicinity. We didn't get close, so we remember the name."

"That is… very odd." Aya jotted down some more notes. "Why can't people remember her?"

"Apparently the Komeijis have a third eye inherent to all satoris in the species that they normally use to read minds. Koishi tried to forcibly close hers, but that resulted in the opposite effect occurring, where people forget her after laying eyes on her."

"Huh." Aya puckered her lips. "Good thing I got this written down before I met her again, or I would've totally forgotten. Thanks, traveler. But…" She peered at me. "Why do you remember her?"

"Apparently, it's something to do with the magic that's been bestowed upon me, whether by the Scarlets or by something else. I can teleport, and I can remember the unmemorable."

"Anything else you can do? Like fly into the sky, or turn water into wine?"

"I understood that reference." I smiled, and Aya returned the expression. "I see you are very learned about the ways of the outside world."

"I always do my research. That sometimes includes reading books that have dropped in from without."

"That's good to hear. But no, I haven't discovered the extent of my abilities yet."

"Maybe the Moriya Shrine will be able to help you out. I don't exactly know why you're coming up Youkai Mountain, but that shouldn't be an overly heavy detour."

"As a matter of fact, that is exactly where we are going." Reimu stood up. "I think we ought to be on our way, if you do not mind."

"You're going to the Moriya Shrine? What a coincidence, I was going to head there too. Sanae popped by yesterday, and she told me something interesting."

"What was it?" Marisa asked.

"Apparently the Moriya Shrine has visitors. Five of them. The hermit monk, her two sidekicks, and the scions of the Myouren Temple…"

Aya's eyes widened.

"Nue Houjuu and Mamizou, the raccoon dog. I see. It all makes sense now. That's why you're here."

Byakuren rose suddenly from her seat. "They are here?"

"You bet they are. And, judging by your agitation, it seems like they came without your permission. We'll need to make all haste." The rest of us stood, including Aya, who stuffed her notepad into a desk drawer. "It doesn't seem like they'll be leaving anytime soon, judging by what Sanae said, but this is nonetheless an urgent matter. I'll try and go as fast as I can without leaving the three of you behind. Momiji, you know what to do. Go report to Tenma."

Momiji nodded, and darted out of the office without another word.

We emerged into the sunlight, and Byakuren and I took our places on Marisa's broom. Marisa checked to see if we were holding on, then allowed the broom to hover. Aya had informed us that the way up from here would involve much less shrubbery and forest, which meant that we would be able to follow her via flight.

"Ready when you are," said Marisa.

"Alright." Aya crouched down and placed her palms on the floor, as if she were an athlete on a running track waiting to start. Then, with an inexplicably explosive surge of pace that displaced the grass beneath her feet and sent specks of soil flying onto Reimu's dress, she darted between the trees guarding her office and disappeared.

Reimu brushed the dirt off her robes and scowled. Marisa leaned forward on her broom, and with a similarly drastic burst of acceleration, we followed the blur receding into the dizzy heights of the Mountain.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, a couple hours of breakneck-speed flight was all it took for the summit of the mountain to loom into view. Nitori had advised us that it would take a few days at least, but it seemed that the slowness and caution of the kappa were not to be underestimated. With Aya as our guide, we were given leave to travel as quickly as Marisa's rickety old broom, ostensibly the weakest link in our race to the top, could muster. It was still a speedy little thing, to be sure, but it was testament to Aya's accelerative prowess – and patience – that she had to stop every few minutes to wait for us to catch up. At one point, I felt compelled to ask whether the three of us being on one broom was weighing us down. Marisa's response was to lean so far forward on her broom that her chest was almost touching the handle, in the vain hopes that it might conjure some additional, previously unforeseen velocity from somewhere deep within her magic reserves. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

The volume of Youkai Mountain was substantial enough that even the area considered to be its summit was so expansive that it even sported its own lake. The sight of a body water located an untold distance above sea level was a source of unending surprise to me, but surprises became, well, less surprising the more of them there were. Just like with most things. What startled me more was the fact that the air did not seem to grow thin even with our unrelenting ascent towards the sky – at this height, even the most experienced mountaineer from the outside world would find it difficult to maintain a steady rhythm of breathing. I could only surmise that the dimensional barrier that encapsulated Gensokyo had, through the many trees and plants that grew here as well as the occasional influx through leaks from the outside world, trapped a surfeit of breathable air within its boundaries, leading to an unusually rich atmosphere even at the higher reaches.

The lake appeared to be surrounded by trees, though as always it was important to remember that looks could be deceiving. On closer observation, the "trees", too unusually straight and cylindrical to be naturally occurring, turned out to be a series of wooden pillars. Tree trunks were still pillars made of wood, for sure, but they weren't quite the same.

"Those are the Onbashira," Byakuren said, noticing that my attention had been drawn to the pillars. "They are part of a ceremony held at the Moriya Shrine every so often. Whenever the ceremony is held, they are replaced."

"That's a lot of trees to go through," I commented. By my reckoning, I estimated that there were at least thirty of the pillars guarding the lake.

"The ceremony is not held frequently, and we have many trees here in Gensokyo. The ceremony is also accompanied by a festival, wherein the denizens of the Mountain come to partake in food and drink. The festivalgoers also assist in lugging the new pillars up the Mountain."

"That sounds like a hell of a lot of work."

"With magic, anything is possible," replied Byakuren. "You need only will it with sufficient force, and magic will bring it to fruition."

It was beginning to grow dark, though given the height which we were at, the remnants of sunlight that lingered still burned strongly, casting uneven shadows against what little mass of the Mountain was left to enclose the lake. The lake was not too large, and could be navigated in a dozen or so minutes, but by the time we reached the Moriya Shrine situated at the other end, it was likely that night would truly be upon us.

We made landfall in front of a large red torii gate, the blades flanking the top of its supporting pillars jutting out imposingly in all directions. A set of well-worn rock stairs led upwards to a wide pointed roof, beneath which we could see a dim yellow glow emanating from inside the structure. The shimenawa rope tied to the top of the entrance was several times larger than that of the Hakurei Shrine, and one could tell even from afar that the Shrine itself was well-maintained by its keepers. It was altogether a much more impressive construction than the Hakureis' own effort, but shrines, to me, were more a matter of warmth than scale, and the extravagant nature of this shrine did little to ease the burgeoning discomfort that clutched at my heart.

"Here we are." Aya squinted. "The lobby lantern is lit. They must be expecting guests."

"Maybe we are those guests," Reimu offered.

None of us said a word as we climbed the steps. We knew this would be a crucial juncture in our journey, especially for the four of us that had been together for the past few days. The day we had foisted ourselves on Byakuren and her Palanquin Ship felt like an eternity ago, yet in purely chronological terms it had barely been a week since we had first embarked on our trip.

The faces of all we had met flashed briefly through my mind. Yuugi downing a bowl of sake as she laughed unrestrainedly at her own humor. Satori standing alone in her study, bearing a perennially forlorn façade as she watched over all that she held dear. Nitori waddling up and down the river with a quiet determination, her trusty backpack in tow. I took care not to delve too deep into those memories lest I accidentally teleported myself away, but the fact that I had such control over my abilities gave me reason for hope. If all else failed, I knew what to do, and the other members of our party trusted me to help them where they required it. It was for their sake that my feet moved me towards what one could perhaps call the end of the road.

The lobby lantern flickered in greeting as we reached the top of the stairs and walked carefully along the rocky pathway leading to the Shrine's entrance. A shrine maiden, whose hair shone a bright verdant green in the light of the lantern, was sweeping the area around the entrance, taking care not to catch her azure dress with the straw broom that she carried.

Reimu called to her. "Sanae!"

Sanae turned. Upon seeing the large number of newcomers that had suddenly appeared at her Shrine, she put a hand to her mouth in surprise.

"Oh my! What a pleasant surprise, Reimu." Sanae placed the broom against a small statue next to the stone path, and rushed over to greet us, clasping Reimu's hands and shaking them vigorously. "And to have Marisa, Aya, and Byakuren here, too. I am most glad to see you here. Also…" Sanae's eyes sparkled. "The traveler from the outside world!"

She took my hands and gave them an enthusiastic shake as well. "I've been meaning to at least get a glimpse of you. I haven't seen another human someone else from the outside world who also knows how to use magic in a long, long time. Especially someone from your current era. Ah, I would dearly love to find out more, but…" Sanae let go of my hand and gasped. "Forgive me, I was overwhelmed by excitement over your arrival. Come, let's head inside. My masters are inside, though they are otherwise preoccupied at the moment, so you will have to make do with me for now."

"You are more than enough, Sanae." Marisa patted her on the shoulder. "Let's head in."

As we moved towards the relative warmth of the Moriya Shrine, I asked Sanae something that had been tugging at my mind. "By 'someone else from the outside world', do you mean you're also from outside?"

"Oh, yes." Sanae smiled. "I came here with the Shrine. You see, my ancestor is the deity who originally inhabited this shrine. Her name is Suwako Moriya, hence the name of the Shrine. But she was displaced as the master of this place by another, so now I serve both of them. It can be hard work, but… Ah well, what can you do?"

I began to feel that the more answers Sanae provided to my questions, the more questions sprung up in my mind, so I decided to leave it be. "I see."

"What about you?" Sanae asked. "What brings you here?"

"I don't remember," I replied. "I thought that was meant to be the case for anyone who came in from the outside. That they wouldn't be able to remember why they were transported here, or who they were before. Yet you seem quite clear about who you are."

"Indeed, that is usually the case. But I didn't come here through the normal means by which most humans from the outside world enter Gensokyo. You could say the Shrine and I were artificially transported. A bit like a wormhole if you will."

"Somehow it sounds like you know as much about the outside world than I do."

"I love reading about your era, traveler. I know about airplanes, big metal tubes that fly in the sky, and skyscrapers, houses that stretch upwards and touch the clouds. It is a source of endless fascination for me. Ah, I would dearly love to visit your time someday. My divine heritage and my exposure to Gensokyo's magic have extended my lifespan, so I will have more chances to find some way of traveling in and out of the Barrier, if that is indeed possible. I will pass on with no regrets if I can lay eyes on your part of the world, even for just a moment."

"It's far too early to talk about passing on," I said. "You're still young yet."

"I suppose I am. How old do I look to you, traveler?"

"Below twenty, I would assume. How old are you?"

Sanae giggled. "That's a maiden's secret. But thank you for the compliment."

After weaving through a few empty corridors, we were shown into a small tatami-matted room, with a table and four cushions arranged neatly around it. Sanae took two more cushions out of a nearby cabinet and placed them at opposing corners of the table. "Please, sit."

Sanae began to brew cups of tea with the kettle of hot water and receptacle of tea leaves that had already been placed on the table. As she placed my cup in front of me, I could smell the sharp aroma of mint complementing the inherent bitterness of the tea.

"There's some mint in this," I noted.

"There is indeed." Sanae gestured for me to take a sip, and I duly did so. The coolness of the mint was somewhat stronger that of the brew Byakuren had made for me when I had first visited the Myouren Temple, but there was little to no sweetness to mask the aftertaste, and my throat immediately felt as if it were submerged in the unrelenting frost of the lakewater's depths not too far from our current location. At the same time, the heat of the freshly brewed tea seemed to fight against the cold of the mint, and I placed a hand against my throat as if to mitigate the effects. Sanae saw this and failed to resist the urge to laugh.

"It's a good one, isn't it?" she said.

"It's a little too cold for this sort of tea," I said, though as I drank more, the initial shock of the contradictory mixture faded, and by the end I found it in myself to enjoy the dichotomy.

"It's based on the iced tea from your world. Seven parts tea, three parts mint."

"That's a lot of mint. Also, it would help if you put some sugar or honey in it to make it less bitter. It's meant to be a beverage for hot summer days, after all."

"I see." Sanae nodded eagerly, as if I had just bestowed upon her some revelatory modicum of knowledge. "I will keep experimenting with the recipe."

"So." Reimu finished the last of her tea and looked around. "Where are the others?"

"My masters are entertaining some guests." Sanae glanced at Byakuren. "I'm assuming you're here for Miss Houjuu and Miss Futatsuiwa."

Byakuren nodded. "Where are they? Are they safe?"

All of us turned to look at Sanae. Sanae frowned, as if not quite understanding the question.

"Safe? What do you mean by that?"

"Did the hermit do anything to them?" Aya asked.

"Toyosatomimi no Miko? No, she hasn't done anything. In fact, it feels more like the two of them have been troubling her. You see, Toyosatomimi no Miko is involving herself in the Onbashira festival taking place here in three days' time. She feels it would be a good way for those who attend the festival to see the benefits that Taoism can bring. I told you this yesterday, Aya."

"But why are Nue and Mamizou still with her?" Byakuren creased her eyebrows. "I know they were brought here against their will. There can be no other explanation."

"If you will forgive me for speculating, it may have something to do with Toyosatomimi no Miko's ability to manipulate desires. I would prefer not to make any rash claims about what our guests have been doing, but it does not seem like they have come with any ill intentions in mind. You will have to ask her yourself." Sanae turned to the door. "Ah, speak of the devil and she will come."

The sliding door behind me was yanked open with impudent force. An unfortunately familiar face, her features a mix of surprise and disgust, glared at the sight of the six of us assembled in the room. Her dark brown eyes burned fiercely, and her hand was clasped firmly around the spherical head of the sword holstered in the sheath bound to her waist.

"I'm surprised you found me this quickly," muttered Toyosatomimi no Miko.

A spell card materialized out of thin air and flitted towards Miko, who casually lifted her sword out of its scabbard and batted it away. I turned to see who had fired the first shot, half expecting to find Byakuren alight with the same aura she had borne when we had first encountered Miko in the Mausoleum. As it turned out, the only person standing in front of the table, hands outstretched, sleeves glowing with the energy of a thousand hidden paper seals, was Reimu Hakurei. Two black-and-white orbs rose slowly from behind her, and I recognized them as the trump cards that she usually only reserved for the most desperate of situations.

"You will free Byakuren's allies from your spell," Reimu intoned.

"Now, now," Miko took a step back and returned her weapon to her waist. "Let's not be rash. We're in a shrine – you of all people should know that fighting here is frowned upon."

The glow faded, and Reimu pulled her sleeves back, withdrawing the spell cards. "A contest between us would hardly be a fight. But you are correct, I have too much respect for Sanae and the gods of this shrine to risk their displeasure."

Miko sighed with what seemed like relief. "Now then. We can discuss things civilly." She plopped down beside me, and as I made to move away, she patted my thigh.

"Don't be scared." She winked jovially, which somehow only served to send a chill down my spine. "No hard feelings."

"You will forgive me for having some reservations," I said.

"Of course. But I think the fact that I didn't kill the three of you should be reason enough for you to trust me. I merely wished to try a score… a little advantage."

"What have you done with Nue and Mamizou?" Byakuren endeavored to stay as calm as she could, but I could hear the tremor in her voice, as if her barely restrained magic could leap out at any moment and strangle the life out of the latest and most unwelcome addition to the room. If Reimu hadn't intervened on her behalf, perhaps Byakuren would have lost control long ago. Maybe that was what Reimu intended all along – to keep things as quiet as possible in the circumstances.

"I merely answered to their desires." Miko snatched my cup of tea, which Sanae had refilled, and took a big sip. "You see, Byakuren, you may play the benevolent master of the Myouren Temple, guiding your followers to a paradise that can never be reached. But have you ever considered what your followers might truly be thinking? Have you ever given any consideration to their doubts, their wishes to be free of the shackles of this world, their unvoiced and lingering regrets?"

"If they have any questions about my teachings or the tenets of Buddhism as a whole, I am always there to relieve any doubts they may have," Byakuren said stiffly.

"I'm not talking about your stupid philosophy. I'm talking about the people who live at the Temple. You in particular."

"What do you mean?"

"You have humans and various different species of youkai living together under one roof. You think an arrangement like that will work for as long as you're there to smooth things out, but the truth is that your experiment's been doomed from the start. Humans and youkai will never get along. That's why the Human Village exists. It's a fact inherent to this world."

"You are mistaken." Byakuren paused and bit her lip in thought. "My followers are as happy as any others living in Gensokyo, if not more so."

"But you cannot be sure of that, can you?" Miko leaned forward over the table and squinted at Byakuren's conflicted features. "How many of them have you bothered to truly ask about how they feel living in your home – which, by the way, is still built right above mine?"

"I… They wouldn't…"

"They wouldn't tell you the truth anyway?" Miko smiled, as if she had finally obtained the answer she had been looking for. She tapped the fluffy earmuffs that I had seen her wear previously. "You know why I wear these?"

Byakuren nodded. "To reduce the amount that you can hear."

"That is so, but my abilities aren't limited to physical hearing." She lifted the earmuffs off her head and placed them in her lap. "When people speak, I can hear their inner desires echoing alongside their speech. I always hear what people truly want to say, not just the words that their mouths form. And with a little sprinkling of magic here and there," she twirled her finger around, "I can amplify and bend those desires to my will. So, it was a simple matter of sitting around the Temple grounds, hidden in plain sight, listening to what people had to say about you and your little place. Boy, were there some unflattering words going around!"

"My followers are free to come and go as they wish," Byakuren protested.

"I won't deny that, but ultimately they stay because of a variety of factors. Some feel indebted to you for helping them. Some don't want to live in the Human Village, particularly the youkai, of course. Some simply stay because they have nowhere to go."

"Those factors alone wouldn't really be enough for them to be dissatisfied about things," Aya said. "If they really wanted, they could leave."

"Exactly," Marisa added. "If what you say really is the prevailing feeling amongst Byakuren's followers, they would either tell her about it or leave. Or remain if it wasn't that big of a deal."

"I think you are underestimating the extent of the discontent at the Temple." Miko stood up, having drained the entire cup of what was supposed to be my tea. "And the extent of my abilities, too. I've been living amongst you for the past month, and no one has said a word."

"You-"

"Now, now. Don't be alarmed. Though, I must say that your being surprised is indicative of how much – or how little – you really care about the followers who live with you. Do you know all their names? Their reasons for being? Their desires? I daresay that by now, I know all of them better than you do, and I've barely been there for four weeks!"

The room was at last stunned into silence by Miko's proclamation. For sure, we had never given much thought to how well Byakuren treated the people she had taken under her wing, but we had always assumed that her benevolence would naturally shine through and override any doubts. What Miko said made it sound like the entire Temple was one spark short of open revolt. The fact that Miko had been able to live amongst them for so long, albeit without showing herself to the Temple's key figures, was only more proof of the lethargy that had spread throughout Byakuren's cohort.

"I must concede, it's true that Nue Houjuu and Mamizou Futatsuiwa would never have followed me if I hadn't pulled on their heart strings for the duration of my residence there," Miko continued. "But in the end, I was able to convince them to come here with the most surprising ease. You may ask why I did so. The simple truth of the matter is that they would eventually have left on their own, and I merely hastened their exit." She smirked. "They are mine to command now, Byakuren Hijiri. Not yours. I will show them the way to freedom – through Taoism, and the new order that comes with its resurgence in Gensokyo by my hand."

And without another word, Toyosatomimi no Miko spun on her heels and left the room. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, each diminishing thud on the woodwork a taunt ringing in the ears of those of us who had dived into the deepest reaches of Former Hell and clambered up the staggering heights of Youkai Mountain… for nothing, as it now turned out. We all stared at the table for the next five or so minutes, unable to say a word.

There really was nothing we could say, after all.

I tossed and turned on the cool fabric of the futon, occasionally jutting my feet out of the cotton quilt when they felt too warm underneath the blanket's embrace, then withdrawing them after I realized just how cold it was outside. It was to be expected – after all, we were as close to Heaven as you could get anywhere in Gensokyo, and we were situated not too far away from a large lake, which was bound to bring a few breezes wafting in through the open hallways. Plus, it was the middle of the night, and only the moon remained to draw the silhouettes of the garden at the back of the Moriya Shrine, visible through the gap in the sliding door.

Sanae had graciously allowed us to stay for the night, but beyond that our plans were as yet unknown. Byakuren had attempted to find Nue and Mamizou, with little success – Miko and her scions claimed they were unwilling to talk to her, though we ultimately never managed to find out if this was truly the case. The Moriya Shrine was larger than I expected, and it would have taken some while for us to find where Byakuren's erstwhile charges were staying – or being held, whichever we chose to believe – so we decided to leave things be for the day, entrusting any updates on Miko's whereabouts to Sanae, who was sleeping in the same room as them.

I sat up and yawned. It was pointless to try and sleep with so many thoughts racing through my head, and so I decided to take a walk and clear my mind. I put on the slippers Sanae had provided for us, and crept out of the room where the rest of our party was ostensibly sound asleep.

I walked along the corridor, letting the cool air soothe my throat. The atmosphere was thankfully not too dry, and though the cold stung the back of my tongue slightly, it wasn't so painful as to cut short the steady rhythm of my breathing. As I rounded the first corner I encountered, I heard a barely audible shuffling from behind me. I turned to find myself facing the mastermind behind our collective distress.

"Can't sleep?" I asked.

"I'm a hermit. I don't need much sleep." Toyosatomimi no Miko raised an eyebrow. "You must be quite the insomniac."

"Who can blame me, after what happened today?"

Miko laughed grimly. "I suppose that's true."

She caught up to me and stared intensely at my face. I returned the favor. From up close, she looked just like any other girl of her apparent physical age, though I had no idea just how old she really was, and I felt it would be best not to ask. Her hair was tied into two tufts that resembled a pair of fox ears, and her eyes turned a deep golden color in the dim glow of the moon.

"I was going to take a walk around the lake." She tilted her head, as if beckoning me to join her.

"What a coincidence. Shall we go?"

"Let's."

We exited the Shrine, and our figures were fully bathed in the errant moonlight. Miko walked with a grace that did not necessarily befit her petite form, but there was a spring in her step that suggested a more youthful element to her personality than her demeanor might portray.

"I'm surprised that you don't seem averse to my company," she said as we made our way down the rocky steps.

"I was going to say the same." I stole a glance at her. She appeared almost furtive, but I assumed this was a ploy of some sort to get me to lower my guard momentarily. "I thought you detested us."

"I detest no one. Not even Byakuren." She shrugged. "After all, you must hold your enemies in high esteem. Only then can you get the full measure of their strength. What I said back there, to Byakuren, to you and the others… I do not regret it, but it was more a show of force than anything sincere. I had to crush her will to fight, while I still maintained the upper hand. Of course, I confide this in you because I know you to be different from them. They are far too engaged and invested in the conflicts of this realm to see the world, and their faith, in a neutral light. You, on the other hand, are an otherworldly observer. You are not yet tainted by bias. I trust you not to intervene against me, but lest you do, I will know if you have done so. You will not enjoy the consequences if that comes to pass."

"I see." I sighed. "Can your respective beliefs really never be reconciled? Yours and Byakuren's, I mean."

She stopped in her tracks and looked up at me. "How much do you know about Buddhism and Taoism?"

"Very little, I am afraid," I admitted.

"Buddhism is an inward-looking religion. It teaches indulgence in one's own failures. Suffering, ignorance, and other such undesirable elements of one's own nature are key facets of its beliefs. Taoism, on the other hand, looks outwards towards the Tao, the way forwards. Us Taoists aim for immortality through engaging with the Tao, rather than through the endless, incessant cycle of death and reincarnation. Buddhism is about asceticism and abstention; Taoism is about moderation and balance. A more enjoyable venture, don't you think?"

"You seem to know a decent amount about Buddhism."

"Of course. You must know your enemy as well as you know yourself, or they will take advantage of your weakness just as you seek to exploit theirs. It also helps that I was a Buddhist, too. For a period."

"You were?"

"Not many know it, but yes." Miko stared forlornly at the moon, as if watching her memories being played out on its pristine surface. "I was once a ruler of a place far from here, beyond the Barrier. I was given the keys to the nation at a very young age. Those keys came in the form of a religion that would hold sway over the people, and I would use those keys to open the door to salvation. But all I saw when I looked at those keys was the inevitability of death, and of a cycle from which there was no escape. I had been blessed with countless gifts, yet one misstep and they might slip from my grasp."

"So, you turned to Taoism."

Miko nodded. "I was told that the secret to immortal life lay within the ideals of Taoism and Taoist culture. But the people of my nation only knew Buddhism as their spiritual pillar, and I could hardly wrest their faith from their grasp. So, while I maintained the façade of being a Buddhist, I practiced the ways of Taoism behind closed doors. I quite literally threw my body, mind and soul into my studies. My mind and soul thankfully remained sharp and intact, but my body was slowly worn away by the poison that was meant to sustain me. So, I did what I had to do."

She pulled up one of her sleeves and held her arm out to me. "Feel my skin."

I put a finger to her wrist. It was as cold as the night air.

"No warmth courses through my veins." She flicked her wrist and draped her sleeve over her arm, shielding it from view. "In becoming a true hermit, I sacrificed my humanity. For a thousand years I slept, buried in the Mausoleum where you first saw me. I had performed many acts far beyond the capabilities of a human whilst I was still alive, yet I did not know that those acts would come back to haunt me. You see, in the same way that the miracles of a messiah might be scoffed at by people too far in the future to be able to confirm the veracity of those phenomena, my presence in history was eventually dismissed as little more than fiction. Mere myth. In the end, the wishes of those Buddhist nonbelievers were granted, and I was summoned here to Gensokyo."

"How did that happen?" I asked.

"Magic is the manifestation of willpower, and there is no greater motivator of will than faith. Faith brings even the strongest of minds to their knees in worship. Faith can heal even the most grievous of wounds, if enough people truly believe that it will be so. If magic is the effect, then you might say that faith is its strongest cause. The people of my nation put their faith in Buddhism, and tossed their belief in me aside. In doing so, they discarded their belief in my existence as well, and thus my sleeping body was wrenched from one dimension to the next." She smiled bitterly. "But I believe that I was sent here for a reason. I see the same ills that plague those who follow Byakuren like sheep in a herd that I once observed in my own nation over a millennium ago. I was once dead, and now by the grace of Heaven I have been reborn. Not in living flesh, but I am nonetheless conscious. And I will not let the same fate befall me twice."

"Forgive me for saying this, but…" I paused. "I feel that your predicament has less to do with Buddhism, and more to do with the inevitability of time. All people who do miraculous things gradually pass into legend. I know many historical figures from the outside world who have met the same end. Disbelief and skepticism are part of human nature – that much cannot be changed."

"That may be so. I have often asked that same question myself, and wondered whether my quest to bring Taoism to Gensokyo was truly done out of benevolence, or at least my belief in its merits… or if it was due to something more basic. More primal. Something that I simply refuse to admit might be the case."

"What would that be?"

"It seems like a sad coincidence now, but… When Byakuren first had her temple constructed, it happened to be right above the site where my mausoleum was located. Perhaps she could feel the magic emanating from under the ground, or perhaps it was sheer bad fortune. But my resurrection was delayed for much longer than I would have liked, and I lost much precious time. I was imprisoned in my own decaying body. For that transgression, I sought retribution, and perhaps I also sought revenge."

"Then maybe you and Byakuren have something in common."

Miko glanced at me quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Byakuren was once imprisoned, too. The price for clinging to what she believed in."

"Ah, yes. I know she was imprisoned in Makai, though I never quite knew what for."

"She protected the youkai that her peers sought to exterminate, and she was banished to Hell for the sin of compassion. Yet even now, following her release, she helps the youkai that indirectly put her there in the first place. She overcame her wish for revenge, and instead poured her energy into helping those that she cared for. Don't you think that's commendable, in some way?"

"Hm." She put a hand to her chin and stroked it, as if running her fingers through an invisible beard. "Now that you've told me this, I must say that I see her in a more favorable light. Though that will not be anywhere near enough for me to waver in my objectives."

"I understand. I just think the two of you could… talk it out. Also, forgive me again for asking this, but what did you really do with Nue and Mamizou?"

Miko bit her lip and let out a small grunt, as if considering whether I ought to be privy to the knowledge of their current condition. Having made her decision, she nodded to herself and sighed.

"They are safe." Miko stretched her arm out and turned her hand slowly. As she did so, two small orbs of fire emerged from the darkness. One was purple; the other was brown.

"Don't tell me…" I gasped. "You turned them into orbs?"

"Yes, I did. I turned them into orbs so they would never see the light of day again." She snickered. "Just kidding. No, silly, of course not. These are small spirits. I can draw desires from any given person and crystallize them into spiritual manifestations like these. Nue Houjuu and Mamizou Futatsuiwa have been sapped of their desires, so they're currently in something of an emotionless stupor. But once I disintegrate these spirits, their desires will go flying right back to their original owners, and they will be back to normal."

"It wouldn't be prudent for you to do that now, though."

"That depends on whether I intend to do it at all." Miko turned to me. "What do you think?"

"What do I…?"

"I'm asking you what you think I should do with those two." She grinned, and for the first time, I could detect no malice in her smile.

"Well… I think you should discuss matters with Byakuren. And then, if everything goes well, you should let them go."

Miko chuckled. "I knew you would say that." She waved her hand, and the spirits vanished. "Come. The night waits for no one. We should make for our beds."

I readily agreed, and together we made our way back to the Shrine, and to our respective rooms. That night, I slept the best I had done in a long while.

It was mid-afternoon on the second day of our stay at the Moriya Shrine. The number of people residing at the Shrine had doubled due to the upcoming Onbashira festival, and the overpopulation of the premises had reached the point where Sanae was now setting up tents around the Shrine grounds for any further newcomers to sleep in. The festivalgoers, far from being mere guests, were actively involved in the preparations of the event: some were in charge of decorating the Shrine and the banks of the lake; some were responsible for catching edible animals lurking in the meager forest between the Waterfall of the Nine Heavens and the rocky protrusion on which the Shrine and its adjacent lake sat; some, mostly the fastest or strongest of those present, were asked to travel to the Human Village to obtain extra supplies. The festival was more than a simple occasion of cheer and joy – it was a celebration of the harmony and mutual understanding, shaky or fragile though it might seem at times, that the people of Gensokyo worked hard to achieve. It was also a moment to thank the gods for their service, though the gods of this Shrine, despite being fully visible and tangible unlike most other gods, were nowhere to be seen throughout the preparation stages.

I wondered if I would be able to meet them at some point. After all, it was their summons through the dream I had seen after we'd returned from Makai that brought me here. I was told that there were two gods inhabiting the Shrine, but I could not be sure which of those gods had sought me out. I'd put the question to Sanae, but her answer had been that they were busy preparing for something – Heaven knows what – and that I would perhaps have a better chance of encountering them after the festivities were concluded.

Speaking of people I had yet to see, after Toyosatomimi no Miko and I's late-night sojourn just half a day ago, I did not see her, or her scions, again. My brain told me that they had run off with their hostages in tow; my heart told me that Miko, a more troubled soul that I had initially expected, would not do such a thing until this entire incident had closure. Nevertheless, though I did not go out of my way to look for them, their absence caused me no little consternation throughout the afternoon. I hoped Miko might find it in herself to talk on more amicable terms with Byakuren, though perhaps it would be best to wait for the flames of passion on both sides to cool before such a discussion occurred. I was content to wait, and help out with proceedings in the meantime.

As I was still much closer in nature to the less magically attuned beings who had arrived here, and given that what unique abilities I had would not serve me well in any of the other tasks, I joined those who remained at the Shrine in decorating the hallways, garden, and any other locations that might need a little brightening up. To my great surprise, I soon found myself next to a certain blonde-haired witch, who hummed merrily as she plastered small glowing spell seals against the walls.

"Weren't you out with the hunting party?" I asked.

"Honestly, Reimu alone would be enough for that." Marisa shrugged. "But I guess she's holding back for the sake of everyone else who's come here. They've also sent a few people down to the forest near the valley at the foot of the Mountain, so we should be having an extra big catch this year."

"That sounds nice." We continued to put up our respective decorations in silence. Then, Marisa spoke again.

"How've you been feeling?"

That was a question that caught me off-guard. "What… do you mean?"

"About everything. I just wanted to know if all this traveling, all these close shaves with death, all this arguing and bickering and yelling at each other… has been hard on you at all."

For her to spring that on me at a time like this was unusual, to say the least. But it was something worth asking, nonetheless. I, too, wondered if a subconscious part of my psyche was beginning to buckle under the strain of essentially being yanked from place to place, discovering things about this world that I would never even have begun to imagine in my old life – assuming that my old life was in any way normal for a person living in the era in which I had formerly resided – and things about myself, as well. Of course, everything that I had known up until my departure from the Scarlet Devil Mansion could have been a lie, but as far as what little I knew remained consistent with what I could glean from the books that I had read about the time I was from, I was happy to keep thinking that my knowledge of the outside world hadn't been fabricated.

"Honestly, it has been a little taxing." I smiled. "But I don't regret anything that we've done so far. It's been my great pleasure to travel with you and the others. After all, a ship is safest at harbor, but that is not what a ship is designed to do."

Marisa laughed heartily at my response. "That's just like you to say something like that."

"Is it?" I looked away in embarrassment. "I wasn't aware I had such a reputation for platitudes."

"I won't deny it. But that's what I like about you, I guess." She grinned, and my heart momentarily skipped a beat.

"I appreciate it," I replied quickly.

"I really mean it. You have the air of… how did that hermit put it? An 'otherworldly observer'."

I froze. "Wait… You were there? Last night?"

"I mean, your footsteps were pretty loud, even though you were tiptoeing. Or maybe I'm just a light sleeper."

"So, you heard the whole thing?"

"Most of it. But, on the subject of people hearing other people, that hermit definitely heard me sneaking up on you. She has those special earpads just to filter the sounds she hears, after all, and she wasn't wearing them last night."

"That must be so. Yet she still told me… well, everything that she told me. Maybe she trusts you, too."

"Possibly. Or maybe she didn't mind me hearing it, as long as she got to talk to you." Marisa leaned her head against the wall and stared at me. "Lucky you. You get all these beautiful maidens scrambling to get your attention."

I squinted at her. "Are you calling yourself a beautiful maiden?"

"Am I?" Marisa put a hand to her mouth. Though her lips were obscured, I could imagine that they were stretched into a smirk. "That's for me to know and for you to guess. That is, if you care enough to do so."

"Maybe you won't like the answer if I do," I shot back.

We stared at each other. Marisa began to laugh, and so did I.

"I was joking," Marisa said as she wiped back a tear. "You definitely know by now not to take everything I say seriously."

"Well, I wasn't being completely facetious. You definitely look better than most."

Marisa snorted. "I don't really get told that, but thanks, I suppose. You're not a bad looker yourself."

The conversation descended into silence again.

"Let's finish our work here and take a break," I suggested.

"Let's do that."

We finished our batches and made our way back down the corridor. Just as we rounded the corner, a familiar shuffling came from behind us. I barely had time to remark on the déjà vu that I was currently experiencing when a hand was placed on my shoulder. I turned, and a finger poked me in the cheek.

"Got you."

"What a coincidence. I was just going to look for you." I removed the hand from my shoulder and turned.

Toyosatomimi no Miko giggled. "Looks like I found you first."

"You two seem awfully familiar." Marisa's face appeared neutral and nonchalant, but her voice cut through the air like a falling icicle.

"Do we now?" Miko tilted her head in a show of mock innocence. "I wasn't really aware that we looked that way. I guess you would think so, though, given that you were peeping on us last night."

"Where've you been?" I asked hastily before Marisa could rebuff her accusations.

"I woke up a little late. I must say, talking with you relaxed me more than I would like to admit, and I was lax in my personal scheduling as a result. Then, I had some prayers to catch up with, so we were doing that in our room."

"I see. That makes sense."

"Anyway, forget all that. I've been doing a little introspection, and I think I'm ready to talk to Byakuren about… things. However, I don't know if the same can be said of her."

"I haven't seen Byakuren since breakfast, but she looked the same as always there." I recalled Reimu asking after her, and Byakuren merely shaking her head, as if wishing to avoid the subject. Perhaps forgiveness might be a premature thing to ask on her end. "I would wait until the festival ends to talk with her."

"I see. You are sagacious as always, traveler." Miko tittered haughtily. "Now, I must be on my way."

We watched the back of Miko's buoyant form vanish around the corner. Then, just as I was about to suggest we leave as well, I fell victim to a hard slap on my back.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Nothing. I just felt like taking out my frustration on something." I had never seen the normally sanguine Marisa pout, yet the expression she wore now was as close to one as I would ever bear witness to.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Miko." I sighed. "I don't care for her as much as I care for you and the others, and you know that as well as I do. Come on, let's go talk to Sanae."

"I'm not jealous," Marisa protested. "I'm just annoyed at her. I don't know how she can just walk up to you and pretend to be friends when she's caused us so much trouble over the past week. She can't just lead us on a wild goose chase and then suddenly turn around and ask us to forgive her. And plus, you shouldn't be so willing to give in to her either. Maybe she's working her magic on you, and you just don't know it."

"I don't think that's it. It's hard to explain." I scratched my head. "She has a point when she says that I'm more of a third-party observer than anything. Even though I've known you much longer than I've known her, I can't help but feel like we shouldn't be enemies. I don't think there's a meaning in adversarial relationships in a world like Gensokyo. It may seem like a big place from the inside, but its borders are still clearly delineated, and who knows what'll happen to the Barrier in the future? That's what I worry about, more than anything." On instinct, I put a hand on Marisa's head and rubbed her hair. To my surprise, she didn't brush it off. "I can't afford to lose any of you. Not after I've come this far."

Marisa looked downwards, her cheeks awash in a red that glowed deeper than the late sunset. "I understand," she replied quietly.

"I apologize if I'm disturbing something, but… How are you doing with the decorations?"

We turned to find Sanae clutching her broom, staring at us warily.

"Oh, the decorations are done." I lifted my hand away. "Anything else we need to do?"

"Some of the lanterns need hanging up, if you don't mind." The familiar smile returned to Sanae's features. "After that, you may return to your… well… fraternizing."

"That's not it at all!" Marisa exclaimed as Sanae disappeared into the distance, her diminishing laughter reverberating around the empty hallways. I did not know if it was possible to be more embarrassed than I was now – though, judging by Marisa's reactions, maybe it wasn't so far-fetched a proposition after all.

The eve of the day of the Onbashira festival brought much cheer amongst those who had gathered here. It was a festival in its own right, but without all the ceremony and ritual that came with it. It was little more than a full day of rest and respite, of food and drink (without blowing too much of a hole in the reserves we had gathered for the festival itself, of course), and of laughter and song. Thus it was understandable that by the time the moon had fully established itself in its luminary vigil beside the frosty tips of the Mountain, most of the camp, weary and exhausted from the day's exertions and making ready for the actual event soon to come, had already retreated to their tents to sleep. I had not given myself over to the festivities – at least, not to the extent that most of the others, including Marisa, had done – and so I found myself struck by momentary insomnia again, rubbing my eyes and turning from side to side in my bed whilst the moonlight poured into the room, spilling over my toes.

Ultimately, I realized that lying in wait for darkness to claim me would do little for my attempts to sleep, and so I decided to take another midnight walk. Taking extra care not to wake up the others, I allowed myself a glance at the maidens sleeping beside me before I quietly slid out of the bedroom. A part of me hoped that I might see Miko again, just as I had done a couple nights prior, but a few minutes of dawdling about the corridors told me that everyone else in the Shrine was very much fast asleep. As they should be, given what lay in store once the sun rose.

As I passed by one of the rooms, I noticed a small glow flickering gently behind the paper screen from which the room's sliding door was made. The size of the glow corresponded with that of the flame of a candle. Either someone in the Shrine couldn't sleep without a night light, or someone was awake. It was soon evidenced to me that it was the latter.

The door slid open just a crack, startling me.

"You may come in," said a voice from within.

I pulled the door open wider and entered. The room was similar in makeup and decoration to the one we had been sleeping in, though it was almost double the size in terms of floor area. It was so large that the single candle burning on the desk pushed against the wall could only properly illuminate half of the room; the rest was either covered in a barely visible dim wash of red, or, in the case of the farthest corners, was simply obscured in the deepest black.

"I prefer the dark, you see," said the figure sitting in front of the desk as she observed my curious looks around the place. "The way the timid and distant fire of the candle turns the yellowing straw on the floor to red… It soothes me. It reminds me of packed clay. It has the same color, the same contours. This mountain is full of that same material, even if it is buried under trees and thickets. Their condition matters little to me, as long as I can sense their presence."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am the one who called you here." She gestured at the ground in front of me. "Both into this room, and to the Shrine as a whole. Please, sit."

I duly obeyed, and the figure turned back to her desk. She wore the same blonde hair that Marisa did, though this version was much straighter than Marisa's own variety, and was bundled into loose clumps by a mess of red string. She was dressed in an unassuming purple robe, to which was attached a pair of baggy white sleeves. From those sleeves protruded two small and delicate hands, one of which held a feather pen which the figure now used to scribble words in an unknown tongue onto a thin and fragile-looking scroll. She slotted the pen into its stand and turned to face me.

"You were the one I saw in my dreams?" I asked.

"That would be me. I have been told of your exploits through threads of information fed to me via the paper journal that circulates around these parts."

"You mean… the newspaper? Bunbunmaru?"

"Yes, that seems to be what it is called." She smiled. "Unfortunately, I am not omniscient, but it seems that in a realm like Gensokyo, word travels with much haste."

"How did you get into my head, then?"

"All gods may reveal themselves to their followers through visions. You may not be a follower, but faith is heavily condensed in this world. I can communicate with anyone I wish to within the confines of Gensokyo, albeit only briefly, as I did with you."

My eyes widened. "You are… a god?"

"Do I not look the type?" She smirked. "Maybe I should come down upon you in a flash of lightning and thunderous applause. Would that be more to your liking?"

"Well, maybe not that far. I just didn't expect quite such a humble figure as yourself to be a god. And living in such a humble abode, too."

"I shall take that as a compliment. In truth, this is the room where I normally entertain guests. The main room is reserved for the… other god."

"The other god?"

"Did Sanae not tell you? This shrine has two gods. As I often like to say: one bears the name, one bears the faith. I am the former."

"So, your name is Moriya?"

"You catch on quickly." She clapped in apparent joy. "I knew I was right to call you here. Suwako Moriya, at your service. I am the one who brought this shrine to this realm. Unfortunately, I am no longer the one who retains it, although that does not mean my influence is diminished. After all, as much as it pains me to admit it, Yasaka does a much better job of running the Shrine's affairs than I do."

I cast my thoughts back to what the god sitting in front of me had told me that fateful night. "You told me to ask for you, but I was told by Sanae that you were busy. And it seems you gave up your identity rather quickly, even though you said I would have to figure it out via asking the right questions."

"Yes, that. That sounds familiar." She pursed her lips and frowned, as if she had forgotten that she had said such a thing. "Well, your questions to Sanae have brought you here, indeed. So, I would say everything worked out in the end."

"You tell me. They were your questions after all."

"I suppose so, but I must confess that I only have a faint recollection of them."

I squinted at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. For a god, she seemed awfully laid back. Perhaps she could read my thoughts from the expression on my face, for she then put a hand to her mouth and coughed, as if trying to gather herself and act more, well, god-like.

"Anyway, I did say that I would help you and your friends. I will keep my word."

"I appreciate the offer, but I think any help you provide will have to wait until the festival has ended. At least, that's what Toyosatomimi no Miko intends."

"I know. She told me."

"She did?"

"We have been in regular contact. After all, a guest does not treat themselves in another's home. I looked after her and her friends, as well as… her own guests, if you could call them that."

"If I may suggest something, if you truly intend on helping us, you could start by asking Toyosatomimi no Miko to release Nue and Mamizou from her spell."

"I feel that it would not be prudent to release them before negotiations have concluded." Suwako rested a hand against her cheek and leaned on the desk, sighing loudly. It felt as if every notion I had of what a god looked like was crumbling right before my very eyes. "Or would it? They would certainly be a very hefty bargaining chip in Miko's hands. I suspect she will ask Byakuren Hijiri for some type of compromise."

"What sort of compromise?"

"The moving of the Myouren Temple away from the Mausoleum, for one. That would be her primary aim, given that Miko wishes above all else for the completion of her resurrection in her current form. Maybe also a chance to teach Taoism in the form of a regular or weekly class at the Temple, so as to prevent a monopoly of faith being established both in the Temple and in the Human Village. Those seem like her most likely terms." She glanced at me. "You seem shocked that I would be capable of such logical reasoning."

"It does seem to me somewhat at odds with your overall demeanor," I admitted.

"Your greatest weapon in a battle is an enemy's underestimation of your abilities. And many of the things we do in life are battles of one kind or another. Toyosatomimi no Miko and Byakuren Hijiri will soon go to war, even if the war is conducted on their own terms."

"Which side will you be supporting?" I somehow felt the need to ask this, for even after talking with Suwako Moriya for some time, I still had little more than an inkling as to her true intentions. Yet, as expected, I was soon to be disappointed.

Suwako smiled triumphantly.

"The side that benefits me the most, of course."

A loud cheer went up amongst the crowd as the kites were let fly into the cool, crisp morning air. Some of the kites were intricately and meticulously designed, many of them reflecting the desires and wishes of their respective owners – as an example, I watched with some amusement as Reimu's own offering, a large yin-yang-patterned circular sheet, fluttered freely in the breeze. She smiled as she watched it hover about, twirling and dancing around the other kites, and upon seeing her beaming face I couldn't help but smile as well. Marisa's kite was an extravagant piece of architecture, with a complex web of sticks securing a feather-like tail made of intertwining pieces of string and strips of multi-colored paper flailing behind like a peacock whose grandiose intentions of flight were somehow being realized. Marisa herself was sat atop a rock, chewing a piece of candy, staring wistfully at the fantastic and phantasmagoric display high up in the sky.

"You don't seem so entertained," I said as I sat next to her.

"I get the feeling I spent a bit too much time making my kite." She gestured at the other kites. "Look at those ones. They're just single or double sheets of paper. I'm worried that people might think I'm too enthusiastic about this sort of thing."

"What's wrong with that?"

"People will think I'm too excited for this festival." She said this as she rummaged for a pork skewer. The pork skewer was buried within an excessively massive pile of food and drink, enough to last a wantonly gluttonous person the entire day with plenty to spare. Those who did not know Marisa well might think she had been starved of food for years. In truth, it was probably just Marisa's hoarding instincts acting up again.

"You seem excited enough," I replied, pointing at the needlessly sizable pile.

"I couldn't help it," Marisa whined. "There were so many stalls set up. I had to get at least one of everything. What's the point of coming to a festival if you don't try all the food?"

"Well, you know who to blame if you get too heavy for your broom." I had to duck as those words left my lips – Marisa had taken the half-eaten remains of her skewer and flung them at my head.

"You should not trouble the traveler with your insecurities." I turned to find Reimu sitting beside me. Her kite was now in her hands as she fiddled with the bits of string that tied its frame and its leash together.

"They are your insecurities as much as my own," Marisa retorted.

"I am disciplined enough to restrain myself from hedonistic tendencies," Reimu said as she popped a steamed bun in her mouth. "My work as a shrine maiden directs me to take care of myself."

"Haven't you been taught not to talk while you're eating?"

"That is none of your concern." Reimu swallowed the rest of her steamed bun with an audible gulp. "I have been taught not to bite off more than I can chew, at least."

"What makes you think I can't finish all this?"

"That is true. You do consume a considerable amount on a daily basis. A shame the nutrients go only to your belly, and not slightly higher up."

I snorted, and Marisa punched me in the shoulder.

"You're not one to talk, Reimu Hakurei. I've seen bigger ripples on the surface of Misty Lake. Also, give me that."

Reimu looked up. "Hm?"

"You're tying that string wrong. You have to coil the string around the pole, not just tie knots haphazardly all over it. They'll unravel the moment you let the kite fly."

Reimu handed the kite over sheepishly, and Marisa began to work her magic. Within seconds, the kite was in perfect condition for flight.

"Thank you." Reimu got up and left, freshly fixed kite in tow.

"She didn't seem so happy," I commented as we watched the back of Reimu disappear into the crowd.

"Her ears were red." Marisa picked up another item of food – this time a fish paste ball – and plopped it into her gaping maw. "She can't stand being one-upped by me. Think of it as a friendly rivalry."

"You two seem to be on better terms than that."

"It's because we're on good terms that we can compete over things without it affecting our friendship. Who doesn't want to stick it to their friends once every now and then?"

"Depends on the type of friend, I guess." I smiled ruefully. "I would hate to feel like I had to compete with any of you over anything."

"That's true. It's not that I don't see you as a friend, but you just seem to be unaffected by that sort of thing. You're the eye of the storm; we bring the thunder."

"Speaking of thunder…" A rumbling in the distance caught my attention. "What's going on over there?"

"Probably the drums. Guess the festival's properly starting up now."

"You going to head over?"

"What, with all this food?" Marisa shook her head. "I'm fine watching from over here."

"I guess I'll stay too, then. Never been too fond of big crowds."

"Neither have I."

The crowd began to coalesce around a particular spot some distance away, not too far from where the Shrine was located. There was some vague cheering and waving, but it was hard to tell what was going on from where we sat. Judging by the noise, I surmised that the festivities, as set out in the day's schedule, had commenced. Sanae had told me about a number of rituals that were engaged in throughout the Onbashira festival, including one wherein people, rather bizarrely, rode logs down a slide built into the mountain. That was the one event I had any interest in watching, more due to its unusual nature than anything, but as it was going to take place at sunset, I had little incentive to throw myself into the fray for now.

Marisa, watching my face stretch out from boredom, patted my back and gestured to the crowd.

"If you want to go, you're free to go."

"It's fine." I suddenly felt a great tiredness, as if my travails in Gensokyo thus far were weighing down upon my heart. I lay down on the rock and closed my eyes, letting the clouded sun patter gently against my eyelids. "I think I need a nap."

"It's not even noon yet." Marisa chuckled. "Though now that you mention it, I do feel a little sleepy." I heard a soft rustling, which likely indicated that she had also made herself comfortable on the rock beside me. The sounds of clapping and yelling, drowned out by distance and the breeze that whistled in my ears, somehow served to make me even sleepier.

"This is nice. I wish days like these would last forever," Marisa muttered.

"So do I. It's nice to have some peace and quiet. We haven't had that in some while."

"That's true. We've been up and down, left and right. It hasn't been particularly strenuous or difficult, but there's something about this journey that's felt… different from all the others. I guess it's because you're with us."

"Maybe so. I am the anomaly, after all."

"Not anymore. You're very much part of the fabric of Gensokyo now. I'm sure the others would say the same."

"I suppose. At the start, if I were offered the opportunity to leave the Barrier, I would probably have taken it, no matter how curious I was about Gensokyo. But now… I am not so sure anymore. It helps that I don't remember anything about my past, but Gensokyo has never felt more like home."

"Especially now that you have some magic to call your own. You're fitting right in."

"Indeed. I hope you'll teach me more magic once we return to the Forest."

"You can count on me for that."

Silence descended upon the space between us. Then, after a brief moment of respite, a set of footsteps approached.

"You two are looking real comfy, are you not?"

My eyes shot open, and my vision was instantly filled with the sight of a giant head peering down at me, blotting out the sunlight in its entirety.

"Suwako Moriya?!" I exclaimed, almost falling off the rock in surprise.

"You sound like you have just seen a ghost." Suwako tittered mischievously. "A god must attend to a festival held in her honor. Do you not think so?"

"That is true. I just didn't expect to see you at this time of day."

"A god is present only when they are meant to be present. My being here, in front of you, has a meaning in its own right."

"What would that meaning be?"

"I would like you to come with me. It seems that you are not too entertained by the festival's proceedings, so we may as well attend to more important matters. Marisa Kirisame, you may come with us as well."

"Where are we going?" Marisa asked as she rose slowly to her feet.

"To meet my other half." Suwako smiled mysteriously. "She has expressed an interest in seeing you. Who could fault her? You two are such fascinating individuals. Now, come."

Suwako began walking back to the Shrine, and we meekly followed. We could hardly resist the summons of one god – disobeying two gods would most certainly be doubly unfavorable.

"Now this is more like it," commented Marisa as we entered the main hall of the Moriya Shrine. Thus far, we had only been allowed to lay eyes on the guest rooms that were scattered up and down the labyrinthine corridors of the Moriya Shrine. The guest rooms were well-maintained, of course, but they were otherwise simple in design and could boast little in the way of decoration or other facilities.

The main hall was, to put it bluntly, a completely different beast. The small flight of steps leading into the elevated structure housing the hall were made of marble and lined with gold leaf, and similarly extravagant bannisters guarding each step with thin pillars of silver and platinum. The hall itself was filled with the glow of rows of candles lining the walls, and before the candles were placed meticulously carved relics and statues, all works of art in their own right, some lifted above the velvet that held them by tall ivory pedestals. The floor of the hall was covered in oak, glossed with wax until it mirrored the candlelight almost perfectly, as if a bronze mirror had been installed on the ground, reflecting any and all light that it might happen to catch.

At the end of the hall sat a maiden clothed in a red shirt and black dress, both of relatively simple make when compared to her surroundings, and with a stream of azure hair falling carelessly around her shoulders to match. Behind her was an elaborately twined hemp rope circle, which inexplicably seemed to move in tandem with her person. I had little time to wonder why a maiden might attach such a cumbersome device to her back when the door snapped shut behind us, leaving only the candlelight to show the way forward.

"Come," called the figure. We gingerly made our way across the hall – the floorboards were so well oiled that I felt as if one misstep might cause me to slip and embarrass myself in front of what I assumed to be another god of the realm.

"Sit. I've been meaning to speak with you, traveler from beyond."

"It is an honor to meet you," I hurriedly said.

A languid smile stretched across the face of the figure, though even in the mellow candlelight the expression bore no warmth. "The honor is mine. By your reticence, I presume that Suwako Moriya has already told you who I am."

"The… other god?"

"Other god?" Her eyes flitted to Suwako, who stood behind us. "You could have at least told him my name."

"Oh my, did I not tell you her name? I apologize, traveler. It must have slipped my mind."

"Apologize to me, not him," snapped the 'other god'. "My name is Kanako Yasaka, traveler from beyond. Remember it well."

"I will." I bowed my head slightly.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake. Your formality bores me. I didn't find you acting so humbly when you met Moriya."

"You saw us?"

"I am the lord of this Shrine. There is nothing within its walls that I don't see." She took a sip from the bowl next to her. "Marisa Kirisame."

"Yes?" Marisa said, straightening up upon mention of her name.

"Hm." Kanako peered at the blonde-haired witch. "Disappointing."

"What is?" asked Marisa, who now appeared now slightly flustered.

"I see a great deal of doubt in you. The spunky, self-assured witch of the woods that I met so many years ago is long gone. Peace dulls many blades, and you are no different."

"On the contrary," Marisa replied, somewhat defiantly. "I feel as if my resolve has never been stronger."

"Actions speak louder than words. After all, conflict is the essence of competition, and competition is the essence of survival. Only those who whet their swords on the steel of other blades will survive."

"Gensokyo is as peaceful as it has ever been. There's no need to foment trouble where there isn't any."

"That depends on what your needs are." Kanako leaned back into her seat as she scrutinized us. "I may be a god, but I am first and foremost a merchant. Gensokyo is my market, and faith is my currency. In pursuit of my objectives, I would even let the realm burn if it must. Of course, faith can only be borne by people, and so it is necessary for as many of them as possible to remain alive."

A chill ran down my back. Ever since I had arrived, I had taken the courtesy and generally welcoming nature of Gensokyo's denizens for granted. Even those who staffed the Scarlet Devil Mansion had shown at least a modicum of compassion to my plight, though how many of them were merely putting up pretenses of kindness, I could not say. Yet here before me sat one who ostensibly would bring the world to heel if she could use the bodies of those who had perished as stepping stones towards achieving her aims. Harmony, it seemed, was only tolerated as long as it was in everyone's best interests to keep the realm alive. If circumstances dictated that Gensokyo's residents were to be called to arms, many of them might not hesitate to turn ploughshares to swords and bring the fight to their newfound enemy, whoever that enemy may be.

"Don't act so surprised." Sensing my discomfort, Kanako's lips curled upwards in a sneer. "You're no stranger to the wanton and brutal nature of war, traveler from beyond. Your kind have killed more people in a day from needless battle than Gensokyo has done in its centuries of existence."

"How would you know?" I asked a little defensively.

"Because I'm just like you. An outsider. I once commanded the worship of countless followers, but the world without is now overrun with iconoclasts and sceptics. A shrewd merchant will move his store wherever it is most profitable to do so, and I have done the same."

Something Suwako had said to me the night before came to mind. "Moriya says the two of you run the Shrine together. Is that true?"

"In a fashion." Kanako scowled and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I bested her in combat and wrested control of her shrine from her grasp, but the people who followed her weren't so willing to change their allegiances. Faith is a curious thing, you see. It can be triggered by the smallest show of divinity, but once it takes root it cannot be easily dislodged, even if the seed from which it spread was nothing but a pittance, a split-second decision to pledge one's own soul to whichever god they saw fit to obey. Even my show of force could not sway those who revered her to my side. A shopkeeper with a poor reputation cannot stay in the same place for too long – after all, a shop needs customers like a gun needs bullets. What good would the Moriya Shrine be if it gained me only the most begrudging of offerings?"

"People devote their lives to their beliefs." Marisa's voice was unexpectedly cold, though given what Kanako had just said, I felt as if I could hardly blame her for feeling belligerent. "Their beliefs aren't toys for you to play with."

"Haven't you heard of the expression 'to play god'? Gods play freely with their followers, and their followers' beliefs. Humans – especially those from the outside, like the traveler from beyond – may delude themselves into thinking that all gods are benevolent, but that could not be farther from the truth. That presumed benevolence isn't an inherent part of our godhood – it's merely a matter of noblesse oblige, nothing more. And I don't intend to follow the example of other gods, who lavish gifts upon their devotees and are crushed under the weight of their own largesse. I seek only to promote one cause, and that is my own." The frosty smile from before returned to her face. "Of course, I am not a demon. I don't go out of my way to cause trouble. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that war is a great supplier of faith. Particularly if it's a war between two religions."

"So, if the time was right, you would start a war between religious believers within Gensokyo?"

"Who says I haven't done so already?" A lazy grin stretched across Kanako's face. "Why do you think Suwako Moriya revealed the location of Toyosatomimi no Miko to you? I bade her do so in order to lure you here. But not just you, of course. You were merely a part of the jigsaw, a trigger that brought the person I wanted most to see."

"Byakuren Hijiri," I breathed.

"Yes, Byakuren Hijiri. The fervent and stubborn Buddhist. She will leave here empty handed – on my advice and persuasion, Toyosatomimi no Miko will offer terms too harsh for her to accept. Her followers will be mobilized against Toyosatomimi no Miko's own. The devotees of Buddhism and Taoism will clash. And when the dust settles, and the people see the destruction the warring faiths have wrought, they will flock to the only major religion left that they can hedge their bets on: Shintoism. They will find Shintoism, and hence they will find me. Everything thus far has proceeded according to my design."

"Miko and Byakuren are better people than you believe them to be." Marisa stood and glared down at the seated god before her. They'll sort things out eventually. Plus, if we inform them of what you're planning, they'll be sure to put their differences aside."

"Maybe so. But only if you make it there in time."

"In time?"

"The Onbashira festival is a helpful distraction from the pains and ills of existence, as are most festivals. But today, the festival is also a distraction for something else. Why do you think you haven't seen Toyosatomimi no Miko or Byakuren Hijiri around?"

"You mean…" My eyes widened. "They're negotiating right now?"

"Quite right. Reimu Hakurei is otherwise occupied – my followers have made sure she is as engaged in the festivities as she will allow herself to be – so we have little to fear. By the time you get there, it'll all be over. Assuming, of course, that you get there at all."

"Come on, traveler." Marisa tugged on my arm. "We have to go."

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to do that." Suwako stepped between us and the door, her face wearing an almost apologetic smile. "I am sorry, but Yasaka has determined that this will be the best course of action if we want to establish ourselves in Gensokyo. I cannot let you pass."

A crackling ball of light appeared in Marisa's fingers. "You won't get in our way. Traveler, I'll buy us some time. Get us out of here."

"If you're referring to your ability to teleport to places you have visited before, I assure you that you will soon find yourself disappointed." Kanako rose from her seat and walked slowly towards us, heavy rope circle in tow. "Who do you think redirected you away from your potential demise in Makai?"

"That was you?"

"I am a master of the heavens, and of the dimensions between worlds. It was a small matter for me to bring the Shrine into Gensokyo, and an equally small matter for me to bring you to where I needed you to go. Why else would I have revealed myself to Utsuho Reiuji? As I said…" Kanako came to a stop just inches from my face, her icy smile now bigger than ever. "Everything that has transpired has done so as I have planned. I cannot be escaped, and Marisa Kirisame alone will not be enough for you to break out of here before talks have concluded. You may as well admit defeat."

The door behind us was flung open with such force that it seemed like the entire building was shaken to its foundations. The candles in the room were snuffed out in unison as a fierce draft blew into the room, and the sudden darkness, coupled with the simultaneous and abrupt sunlight that burst into the room from outside, sent an array of spots dancing in my eyes. Through my temporary blindness, I could see nothing but a long white-and-red robe fluttering and dancing in the wind, and a vermillion ribbon tied around cuts of flowing black hair. My heart, which had momentarily been plunged into despair, now swelled with hope and relief as I recognized the new arrival.

"Not if I can help it," said Reimu Hakurei.

A blast of energy sent Suwako flying into the smoking candles, and the collapse of the table that held them brought an avalanche of statues crashing down upon Suwako's limp form. Her fingers twitched and then became still.

I had little time to ponder if Marisa's exertions had created Gensokyo's first true casualty in centuries before Reimu raced over and took me by the hand. "Traveler, teleport us to the room we have been sleeping in. Byakuren and Toyosatomimi no Miko are in the adjacent room."

I shook my head. "Kanako Yasaka has the power to manipulate my ability to teleport."

"The traveler from beyond is correct." Kanako appeared completely unperturbed by this new turn of events, though from the corner of my eye I could see her cast a worried glance towards the limp figure of Suwako, who was now very much awake and scrambling to dislodge herself from the pile of relics that had briefly incapacitated her. The old nonchalance soon returned to Kanako's features. "I can warp the space between dimensions – the traveler from beyond can only step in and out of them, and not for long."

"Let's make a run for it, then," I suggested.

As if on cue, the doors slammed shut again, plunging the hall into total darkness once again. I could hear a rumbling coming from outside, causing the earth beneath our feet to shake violently, as if the entire mountain were being upended, its mighty form pulled upwards and around the Shrine, sealing it into its rocky embrace. Marisa extinguished the ball of lightning she had been making ready to fire and leaned against a wall for support, and Reimu grabbed my hands to prevent herself from falling.

"What have you done?" Reimu gasped.

"You will see," called Kanako's voice over the din.

The rumbling stopped, and Reimu began to probe around in the dark, pulling me along as she attempted to retrace her steps to the entrance.

"Marisa?" she called.

"I'm over here." Marisa snapped her fingers, and a small flame appeared in her palm. "But Suwako Moriya and Kanako Yasaka…"

"They are gone," I confirmed as I looked around and saw nothing but the silhouettes of the rubble caused by Marisa's moment of chaos and the glowing faces of what few statues remained upright, leering at us from afar. "Yasaka must have helped them materialize out of here, in the same way that I've done before."

Marisa made her way over to the door and fired a surge of lightning into its wooden paneling. The door splintered into pieces, but our worst fears were confirmed: beyond the door lay nothing but packed dirt and solid rock.

"An old favorite trick of theirs." Marisa knocked against the stone within which we were now incarcerated. "Kanako Yasaka is a manipulator of the heavens and the dimensions, so she can warp anything into anywhere she wants. Takes a lot of magic, but then she is a god, after all. All Suwako needs to do after that is compress the earth around this room as tightly as possible, making it tougher than steel. Might be a matter of months before we get out, even if we concentrate our efforts. We're as good as trapped."

"Then we have no choice but to follow them," Reimu said. She loosened her grip on my hand, though she still continued to hold it. "Even if Kanako Yasaka meddles with the traveler's magic, anywhere we go will be better than remaining here. Come, Marisa."

Marisa obliged, and soon both my hands were filled with the warm and soft sensations of the other two's respective grasps.

"This is nostalgic, in a way," Marisa said.

"It is. Back when we were in the Forest, we practiced like this often."

"You used to be so nervous about touching the traveler's hands, but now you seem alright with it, eh?"

Reimu huffed and turned her head away. "Take us out of here, traveler," she said quickly.

"As you wish." I closed my eyes and imagined the lake atop the Mountain, the sunlight glinting on its surface, and the great Shrine overlooking its waters. I could feel my magic, which I had not used in some time, bubbling to the surface, searing through my veins, granting me a strength that I still did not yet fully understand. The ground fell away from my feet, and my legs buckled slightly under a sudden increase in weight, as if they were preparing for the jump through dimensions that we were about to undertake.

Of course, I committed myself to the procedure knowing fully well that Kanako Yasaka would try to intervene. And I was not disappointed.

My previous teleports had always been visualized to me as a sensation of sorts. I could never truly see where I was going, but could only let myself fall towards my destination as if I were on a boat caught in a whirlpool, spinning slowly towards the vortex. Now though, perhaps due to my increased attunement to the magic that had been bestowed upon me, I could open my eyes and see the world changing before me. The magic was like a paintbrush sweeping broad strokes of color across a never-ending canvas, marking out the path I had to take as it meandered from point to point, veering away from places that it deemed incorrect, searching through the murk until it found my target, and then honing in with unerring accuracy. But just as I was about to take the last step out of this world between worlds, the entire canvas lurched, and I fell into an abyss that seemed to pull my magic out of me, a deeply unpleasant emotion that was akin to my soul being drawn out of my own body, leaving nothing but a still, empty husk. I felt an unprecedented enervation, one that rapidly drained me of my concentration, and the last thing that rang in my ears before my consciousness deserted me was the laughter of a god whose whims and machinations seemed to be beyond any and all reproach.

I awoke to find a bed of grass tickling my face. My eyes shot open, and in my prone posture on the floor I could only see two colors: the green of the grass on the ground, and the stark white of the sky above it. As my vision cleared and the rest of the world swam into view, something tapped my shoulder.

"Traveler?"

"Yes, I'm up." I staggered to my feet and brushed the errant dirt off my jacket, turning to face Marisa and Reimu, who appeared equally nonplussed by what had just occurred – a rare enough sight for two maidens who usually handled tricky situations with all the sangfroid in the world.

"Where are we?" Marisa asked.

"I may have an idea." Reimu stared upwards at the fog that was covering the entire sky. "I would probably have a clearer picture of things if we could break through all this smoke."

"I don't have my broom, unfortunately, so either we'll have to walk around until the fog clears, or you'll have to fly ahead of us and scout out the area." Marisa conjured a ball of flame in her hand. "You go ahead, and if either of us finds something, we'll throw you a flare."

"A flare?"

"It's a light signal that indicates your location. The traveler should be familiar with it." Marisa let the ball of fire spiral into the air, then with a clench of her fist, the flame exploded like a firework. The light of the explosion was visible even in all the fog, not to mention the loud bang that reverberated conspicuously in the eerie silence.

"I understand. Thankfully, I have just the spell card for a trick like that." Reimu began to hover, giving us a quick wave before she accelerated and vanished into the haze.

"Now then, let's take a stroll." Marisa glanced around quickly before pointing in a random direction. "Over there."

"What's over there?" I asked.

"Nothing in particular. I just have a good feeling about that direction."

"Let's hope you're right." We began to walk, taking care to look at the ground in front of us every now and then. We could only see several meters in front of us – beyond that was nothing but gray and white – so we had to constantly ensure that we weren't tripping over any rocks, or perhaps something even worse.

As it turned out, our caution was somewhat justified, though not in the manner that we were expecting. Just as I had begun to question Marisa's arbitrary decision-making in choosing where we were meant to go, a boot emerged from amidst the murk.

Marisa immediately held a hand out, her fingertips alight with energy. "Who's there?"

The rest of the figure to whom the boot belonged came into view. It was a familiar face that greeted us, though not one that we had seen in such adequate illumination, and certainly not one that we exactly needed to see given the circumstances.

"You're the one we met in Makai," I noted, recalling the same orange robe that the figure had worn during our previous meeting.

"What an unpleasant surprise." The maiden blinked and squinted at us, as if scarcely believing that we might even be here at all. "What brings you to these parts?"

"Actually, we were wondering if you could tell us where we were," Marisa said.

The maiden sighed. "How did you make it here without even knowing where you were going?"

"It's a long story," I replied.

"Well, you will have all the time in the world to tell it. I assume you are lost."

The two of us nodded vigorously.

"As you are in my domain, I will try to be as welcoming as possible. Do note, however, that if you commence hostilities, you will have to answer to my master."

"Who would that be?" I asked.

"The lord of this realm. I thought you had met her already."

"Have I?"

"Come now. Do you mean to tell me you have already forgotten about your midnight jaunt with her several nights ago?"

"You mean-"

"I will spell it out for you just this once, seeing as you have come here from beyond the Barrier – your ignorance of the workings of this world is understandable, if regrettable. My name is Mononobe no Futo, and I serve Toyosatomimi no Miko, who rules over this land." She spread her arms open, gesturing at the fog around us. "You have set foot in Senkai, the land of the hermit. Remember it well."

Chapter Text

Although my experience with Gensokyo had at the very least awoken me to the fact of multiple dimensions, it had never truly occurred to me that there might be more than two. There was, of course, the outside world, which as large as it was remained constrained within a single dimension; the other side of that coin was Gensokyo, which included the underworld and all its components, however otherworldly they might seem. The two realms were separated by the Great Hakurei Barrier, which I visualized as a physical portal through which one might ostensibly be able to walk in order to pass from one world to the next. In practical terms, magic was never quite that simple, and I suspected that anyone who passed through the Barrier might find themselves in a similar situation to me whenever I tried to move between dimensions, flailing about wildly as the magic took them wherever it saw fit for them to go before dumping them unceremoniously onto the ground at their destination.

However, unlike Gensokyo, Senkai had not been cut out of a portion of the outside world's existing geography. Its geography mirrored both Gensokyo's and the outside world's in some ways – as proven by the existence of grass, fog, and the like – but Senkai had never been a real place in the same sense as Gensokyo, which was merely a region of Japan that had been frozen in its own dimensional bubble. Senkai had been wholly conjured out of the magical reserves of its hermit master, as if it were somehow essentially just another spell, yet the sheer scale of its construction hinted at the true scale of Toyosatomimi no Miko's powers. I wondered aloud if this ability to create entire worlds out of nothing was exclusive to Miko, to which our new host replied in the negative: any hermit with sufficient training, and the willpower to complement it, could make their own small world in which they could live in peace, sealed away from the hustle and bustle of Gensokyo, the outside world, or whichever other dimension they had come from. Mononobe no Futo mentioned the name of another hermit, Kasen Ibaraki, who had generated her own version of Senkai, though Futo could only tell me very little about that world as she had never been there herself.

"The only way to access Senkai is by diving into a crack – in the wall, in the floor, anywhere. If you dive deep enough, you will eventually make your way here. In a sense, it is not you who enters Senkai; it is Senkai that expands from the crack, enveloping you, taking over your senses, until your entire being has been transported."

"Diving into a crack?"

"It is a difficult concept to grasp for non-hermits, I must admit. But those who have undergone the rigorous training and ascetic regimes required to become a hermit will understand. The more you realize that you are a small, irrelevant speck in the wind, the more willing you will be to let the wind carry you forward. When that time comes, even the smallest crack can span the lengths of mountains and lakes."

"So, your entry into Senkai mirrors your outlook on your own life?"

"That is an interesting analogy. Yes, I suppose you could put it that way. Speaking of which, you still have not told me how you arrived here."

I recounted the week's events to Futo, starting from when we had been transported into Former Hell up until our imprisonment in the buried hall of the Moriya Shrine. Futo sighed and shook her head as I finished speaking.

"It seems I may have misunderstood your intentions. You must forgive me for my transgressions in Makai, but I always consider whatever Toyosatomimi no Miko bids me do to be the best course of action in most circumstances." She managed a small smile. "It seems you, too, hold the power of transcendent introspection within you, as most hermits do. That power, when fused with magic, allows you to pull your bodily forms back and forth across the fabric of space and time, in the same way that hermits do when they enter Senkai."

"How does one normally acquire that power?"

"As I told you, rigorous training is usually the only way. Hermits must pray and recite sacred texts regularly in order to truly establish the sort of mindset that allows them to make use of abilities that are typically unavailable to most humans. I must confess, I am at a loss as to how you became a magical being with such ease."

"It has something to do with the Scarlet Devil Mansion," I said. "I only remember being there and leaving there, but I don't remember how I arrived. The Mansion was my first port of call in Gensokyo."

"That is a pity. The Scarlet Devil Mansion is a den of evil. I do not know the full details of what goes on there, but Toyosatomimi no Miko has told me enough about that place. Many youkai of the most horrible and malicious breeds reside there. I am surprised you departed the Mansion in one piece."

"Not quite one piece, seeing as my memory from before that time is completely gone. I do remember Patchouli Knowledge making me read from a tome of some sort, and before that…" I strained to recall what had happened before I had entered the Library. "I told her that I wanted to leave the Mansion, so I could go and see the rest of Gensokyo. But why?"

"From what you have told me, I can hypothesize that you had some vestiges of your old memories remaining whilst you were still in the Mansion, or you would not have been so eager to leave. Perhaps it was this Patchouli Knowledge who had bestowed these powers upon you, or perhaps…"

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps it was she who had taken them away. Magic is a curious thing. It exists within us, and it is inextricably a part of us, but we cannot know how to use it unless we are told or given a hint as to any potential methods of doing so. That is how hermits acquire their abilities – we search deep inside ourselves and read from the sacred texts until we happen across something that inspires us, something that changes our perspectives fundamentally in a simultaneously irreversible and enlightening way. In doing so, we create a memory of that inspiration, that feeling, and we draw from the memory whenever we want to, say, cast a spell." She blew a breath through her nose and stared into the sky, as if she were trying to gather her thoughts. "What Patchouli Knowledge has done to you, however, could potentially have been the opposite. You were probably already losing your memories through some other spell – Patchouli Knowledge put the nail in the coffin, so to speak, and sealed them away for good. Without your memories, there is no way for you to cast your magic. After all, how would you remember how to cast them in the first place?"

"But then how am I able to cast magic again? I still remember nothing about the time before the Mansion."

"Just because you forget how to cast a spell does not mean you cannot learn it again through some other method. Transcendent introspection is a powerful thing, but each hermit has their own way of arriving at how best to make use of it. What you remember might not necessarily be a moment in time – it might simply be a sensation. The feeling of flying, for example, or weightlessness. Or a sense of nostalgia. Something strong, something irresistible that overwhelms you and draws out the magic from within."

I nodded. I fully understood what Mononobe no Futo was telling me. That swelling of lightness and numbness that gushed forth from deep within me whenever I tried to teleport was by now very much a familiar feeling; recalling that emotion and letting it run through me was how I brought my magic to bear. Now that I knew that my methods were not really all that unique to me, I felt somewhat relieved, as if I had finally discovered other people who shared my gift – or curse, however one chose to look at it.

"If I can rediscover my magic, maybe there is some way for me to recover my memories as well," I proposed.

"That will depend on the type of magic that was used to burn your memories off the recesses of your mind. If the magic is too strong, or if its effects are too permanent, then there may be no way back."

"We'll figure something out." Marisa, who had been listening quietly the whole time, clapped my shoulder. "I have to admit, I still don't really get what you mean by sensations or feelings. I just use good old willpower, and my magic comes running."

"As I said, people have different ways of summoning magic. Yours comes to you easily, but mine, and perhaps the traveler's, do not. Though the method required also depends on the type of magic being summoned – a small and brief surge of heat would be very different from, say, teleporting one's entire being from one place to another."

"True enough. I don't bother with huge magic, I just like combining a lot of quick bursts of simple things. I've never really thought too deeply about it."

"That affinity with simpler magic is a great aid in battle, where reflex and quick thinking is vital, but perhaps it hinders your capacity for more burdensome spells. Maybe the traveler complements you in that regard. He is something of a thinker, much like me."

The fog began to clear, and not a moment too soon, as my eyes were beginning to water from all the whiteness that had been seared into my retinas. I feared I might get snow blindness from gazing into it for too long, but that thankfully never became an issue. Just as well, too, for what I saw next was a sight to behold.

We were at the foot of a series of mountains, running as far as the eyes could see. Some of the lower hills were coated in the same fog that had obscured our vision; others were tall enough to break through the haze, and they rose like fingers reaching into the sky, magnificent spires of rock, grass, and snow. Water came cascading down from the summits of some of the highest mountains, and the vapor that dissipated from the waterfalls' foamy streams only added to the ubiquitous haze that shrouded the crisp, cool air.

Mononobe no Futo pointed at one of the mountains. At the base of that mountain was a large structure with a golden yellow roof.

"That is the Divine Spirit Mausoleum," she explained. "It is where we typically reside – that is, if we want to be alone."

"Impressive," said Marisa.

"Isn't it? Many hermits go there to train themselves. Of course, not all of them make it all the way to immortality."

"Immortality?" I asked.

"Yes, have you not heard? All true hermits are immortal. There are varying levels of immortality, depending on how much effort you expend into maintaining it. I am still at the lowest level, but I hope to ascend further with time."

"You'll have all the time in the world for it."

Futo laughed. "Indeed I will. Come, I will show you into the Mausoleum. Toyosatomimi no Miko is understandably busy – you say she and Byakuren might disagree on certain things, but I think the matter will resolve itself. Toyosatomimi no Miko is a reasonable person, even if she gives into her impulses on occasion, and I have a mind to think that Byakuren Hijiri is the same. Of course, no one is perfect…" She frowned. "On second thoughts, it might be best for me to check on my master. I apologize for the sudden notice, but please make your way to the Mausoleum while I return to the Shrine. In the meantime, you ought to ask Reimu Hakurei to return."

"Alright," I replied.

Futo leaned downwards and drew a line in the dirt. Before I knew it, she had vanished.

"Seems like any crack will do," I commented. "That's pretty convenient."

"Isn't it? Now then, we better get Reimu over here." Marisa duly fired a magical flare into the air, and we began to make our way to the Mausoleum.

The Divine Spirit Mausoleum was strangely ill-named considering it appeared to house no actual spirits or other materializations of people who had passed on – unlike, for example, the Great Mausoleum under the Myouren Temple. In fact, its grand and imposing exterior, coupled with the towering gates that guarded its entrance, only served to add to the abnormal agitation I felt as we approached it. It also helped little that this particular realm was unusually quiet. Typically, one might expect to at least hear the streams from some distant cascade crashing down onto the rock below, or the gentle breeze whistling past their ears. Despite the conspicuous presence of both water and wind, neither could be heard, leaving only the sound of my blood pumping in my ears and the rustling of the grass beneath my feet. It was as if the fog were hampering not only our ability to see, but also our ability to hear.

"At this rate, Reimu won't be able to hear us," I said.

"Why not?" Marisa asked.

"Doesn't everything seem a little too quiet? Almost as if something is blocking the sound in the air."

"Now that you mention it, it does seem a little too peaceful." Marisa cupped a hand to her ear and grumbled loudly, as if straining to hear something beyond what was audible in our vicinity. "Nope, can't hear anything."

"Maybe there is more to the fog than we realize. We'd better get inside quickly."

"Agreed."

We passed through the Mausoleum's gates and found ourselves in a large courtyard. The air grew even quieter – as if it hadn't been quiet enough already – and a burgeoning feeling of unease started to gnaw at the back of my mind.

"There is something really eerie about this place," I muttered.

"Right?" Marisa bit her lip and cast anxious glances around the empty space. "Places like this normally don't scare me, but there's something about this… expanse… that seems creepy. Doesn't help that we're essentially stuck inside someone else's dream world."

"I wonder if Futo made it to the Shrine safely. If a hermit's means of traveling to and from Senkai is the same as my teleportation in essence, it's likely that Yasaka would not allow her to reach Toyosatomimi no Miko."

"Now that you mention it, that could be a worry. And if Futo and Miko can't make it here…"

"Then we're trapped again. For now."

"We'll have to put our faith in Byakuren and Toyosatomimi no Miko then, and hope that their negotiations go well." Marisa whistled indifferently. "Nothing much else we can do."

We entered the Mausoleum, and the silence, oppressive as it already was, now seemed to pierce into my eardrums, inundating my consciousness with waves of heavy, agonizing tranquility. I put a hand to my temple and groaned.

"Headache?" asked Marisa.

I nodded.

Marisa fished into her breast pocket and pulled out a light blue potion. "Here."

I took the vial and gulped its contents down. The concoction was familiar to me – I recalled drinking something similar when we had first entered Makai via the Palanquin Ship, and the thick sludge that permeated the atmosphere had threatened to draw the very breath out of my lungs. The elixir certainly helped ease my physical ailment, but it contributed little towards dispelling the overwhelming anxiety that now gripped my heart.

Marisa put an arm around my shoulders and guided me to a nearby chair. We were in the lobby of the Mausoleum, an antechamber with a few benches parked against the walls where visitors waited to be greeted and ushered in by one of the Mausoleum's occupants. Unfortunately, none of the Mausoleum's occupants seemed to be around at the present moment.

"This thick air is really killing me," I croaked as I leaned my head on the wall. "The silence, too."

"There's definitely magic in the air. Walking around in all that fog must've led to overexposure." Marisa rummaged in another of the many pockets on her dress and took out a tube of shimmering gold liquid. "Drink this. It stimulates magical release."

I gratefully partook of the potion, and before long the uncomfortable swelling in my head and the chills that were running up and down my spine had largely dissipated. My hands and feet still felt numb, but I assumed that would pass once the magic had been flushed from my system.

"Thank you." I smiled. "What would I do without you?"

"What would you do without me?" Marisa chuckled. "Good thing we don't have to find out."

A flash of red in the corner of my eye caught my attention. "Looks like Reimu's made her way here."

"Seems like it."

The features of the maiden of the Hakurei Shrine immediately softened with relief upon seeing us, though they soon tightened up again as Reimu noticed my devitalized form, half-collapsed on a bench, skin pale and eyes closed. She rushed over and put a hand to my forehead, as if checking for a fever.

"What happened?"

"Magical overflow." Marisa sat beside my head and sighed. "The traveler doesn't have a reliable way of relieving his well of magic; even more so now, given that Kanako Yasaka has control over the space between worlds. My guess is that this entire place is imbued with magic – the fog, the wind, the water, even this Mausoleum – which is causing an overflow inside the traveler. In hindsight, it probably isn't surprising since this realm was created using magic in the first place."

"The traveler may become severely ill if we do not find some way of escaping. Do you have any magic delimiter potions? Those should help stave off the effects for some while."

"I just gave the traveler my last bottle." Marisa patted her dress pockets, most of which were clearly empty. "I should've brought more, but I didn't exactly expect something like this to happen."

"How long will one potion last for?"

"It should keep draining the traveler's magic for the next hour or so. Beyond that, no guarantees."

"That should be enough time for us to find a means of egress." Reimu glanced down the hallway towards the Mausoleum's main chambers. "Maybe we will find a clue inside this building. It is a sizeable structure, certainly bigger than the Myouren Temple. Byakuren has some competition."

"My guess is that Toyosatomimi no Miko made this thing with the Myouren Temple in mind." Marisa ran a hand along the cold stone walls. "The layout shares some similarities with the Temple. For a self-proclaimed holy person, you'd think she'd have a little less of a competitive streak."

"Even hermits must indulge themselves from time to time." Reimu shrugged. "In that respect, they are little different from shrine maidens. They have a duty to their cause, but that duty does not completely define who they are."

"That's true. Now then," Marisa put her hands on her hips and peered down the hallway. "You really think there's anything we can find here?"

"It would not hurt to try. But I think the traveler should rest for a little while more."

"You should stay with him, then. I'll have a look around." Marisa took another light blue potion out of her pocket and handed it to Reimu, then darted into the main lobby and out of sight. Reimu took the witch's place by my side, settling onto the seat and casting a concerned look at me.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"My limbs are numbing up, but at least my head has stopped hurting." I looked up at her. "Did you find anything while you were gone?"

Reimu shook her head. "This domain is immense in size and scale. I can only imagine the lengths Toyosatomimi no Miko went to in order to create it."

"You already knew this place was Senkai? And that Toyosatomimi no Miko was its master?"

"I have been here before. Marisa has not."

"That is a surprise. Sometimes it seems like the two of you do everything together."

"It wasn't always that way. There was a time when we sparred frequently, and often. But that is our nature – if we cannot unite under a common cause, we eventually become divided and scattered, even if we are the best of friends. Perhaps your presence, and Byakuren Hijiri's tribulations, have given us a banner under which to march together again."

"Conflict really does seem to be the essence of human nature."

"It does. I think Toyosatomimi no Miko knows that better than anyone – after all, she would not have created this realm if not for that basic, essential instinct. Which is why I trust her not to falter in her, and Byakuren's, ultimate pursuit of peace."

"That hermit made this realm because of some… conflict?"

"She did. Long before you came here, Miko and Byakuren were involved in their first ever dispute, one that concerned Toyosatomimi no Miko's resurrection. Back then, the two of them were perhaps a little less wise, a little more stubborn, and somewhat given to settling fights with fists rather than words. Byakuren won that skirmish, with a little help from me, and invited Toyosatomimi no Miko to live with them."

"I could never see that happening."

"Neither could Miko. She decided that she needed a base of operations far removed from the reach of the Great Mausoleum, where her yet-to-be-resurrected material body once resided, so that she might have her own gathering of followers without needing to be worried about other people dropping in and disturbing her. She is a hermit both in name and occupation, after all, and hermits need to be left alone in order for them to build up their abilities and inner strengths."

"So, she created Senkai."

"Indeed. I find it fascinating that she would call this place a mausoleum as well – in terms of appearance, it bears considerably more similarity to the Myouren Temple. Perhaps she misses living in the Great Mausoleum."

"Wasn't she entombed there?" I asked.

"She was, for an untold amount of time. Centuries, maybe even millennia."

"It would be hard to say that she misses the place, then. It could be that she built this structure as an evocation of her past, of a sort, like the parable of the man licking a bitter liver every day to remind himself of his need for revenge. Or it could be Stockholm syndrome."

"Stockholm syndrome?"

"The theory that given enough time, a person who is captured might find it in themselves to sympathize with their captors."

Reimu laughed. "Sounds very much like those of us that live in Gensokyo."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter how you look at it, Gensokyo is a prison. A very large prison, to be sure, and one that we might happily spend our entire lives within. But there is nonetheless the notion that there is something more out there, a considerably larger and more fascinating world that we are condemned to never see. That thought always lurks in the minds of every denizen. We may have learned to love the confinement, and tolerate those who live inside its bounds, but that idea can never truly be shaken."

"That depends on your perspective, I suppose." I stared at the ceiling. It was made of stone, much like the rest of the building, and was unnervingly unblemished. Unsurprising, since blemishes could never exist in one's idea of a perfectly constructed world. But even perfection had its drawbacks. "In the outside world, we often feel trapped on our own planet."

"It is a massive planet, is it not?"

"It is. But we cannot fly, we cannot use magic, and we can barely even go to the worlds that neighbor ours without extensive preparation and unimaginable developments in existing methods of flight. We are limited by our technology, and by our own physiological restraints. A prison can be as small as a body, or as large as a planet. It's all about your perspective." I thought back to one of the earliest things that I remembered ever saying. "To me, Gensokyo is as limitless as any mind."

Just then, a ripple appeared in the air before me, a strange and undefinable bending of space. I assumed it must be a mirage caused by my temporary sickness, until I saw Reimu stand up, spell cards in tow, staring warily at the aberration.

"What's that?" I asked.

The ripple, and the space contained within it, was pulled open. For a moment, all I could see from inside it was darkness. Then, a familiar-looking shoe emerged, followed by the rest of the also familiar-looking body, robes and all.

"What are you doing here?" queried the new arrival, whose face now came into view, a face that encompassed the undying, youthful features of a slightly disheveled and confused Toyosatomimi no Miko.

The four of us were seated in the center of the main guest room, where a simple circular table was flanked by four sets of benches. Our first point of concern was, of course, the conclusion of the discussions that had taken place between Toyosatomimi no Miko and Byakuren, a worry that we communicated to her upon sitting down. Miko shrugged.

"They were inconclusive," she replied bluntly.

"Should we take that as good news?" Reimu asked.

"It depends. Neither of us were all that willing to compromise, but we committed to further talks sometime in the future. In return for her trouble, I freed Byakuren's servants and gave her some of my sutra scrolls to read. I would say that's a positive development. She didn't seem too pleased with the whole affair, though, which in hindsight I can understand."

The room's layout was all too reminiscent of the Myouren Temple – I even sat facing the entryway, just as I had done on my first visit to the Temple – yet there were notable differences. For one, instead of three corridors leading away into the other guest rooms, there was just one in the Mausoleum. For another, while most of the Myouren Temple had been constructed with wood, the same wood that formed the Palanquin Ship upon the Temple's transformation, the Divine Spirit Mausoleum was composed entirely of concrete and stone. It made sense given the amount of fog there was in Senkai, a phenomenon that might cause the wood to eventually rot – that is, if rot or any other form of stagnation were even allowed in this particular figment of Toyosatomimi no Miko's imagination. After I recounted my story thus far to the hermit, I relayed my thoughts to her as an addendum. She laughed and assured me that as many facets of reality as possible had been factored into the creation of this domain.

"You may think that this world is like a sandcastle or a clay figure that I can transmute or dismantle at will. The truth is that there are limits to all magic – this place took a very, very long time to make. I had already been devising its conception even when I had not been resurrected; my resurrection merely expedited the process of bringing it to fruition. But once I have made something, I cannot simply suck it back into myself. It must be destroyed the good old-fashioned way."

"Does that extend to more abstract things, like principles of physics or geology?"

"Quite so. I could destroy gravity within this place and send us all flying into the heavens if I so wished." Miko looked up at the ceiling. "Speaking of the heavens, I think I may know a way out – that is, if what you say is true, and Kanako Yasaka is really behind all this. But I believe you have no cause to lie, and the absence of Mononobe no Futo is also thus explained."

"Indeed."

"Mononobe no Futo will find her way back. I have the utmost trust in her. Anyway." Miko cleared her throat. "It's apt to think of Senkai as a bubble. Pop the bubble and it will burst. In the same way, if we fly high enough into the sky, we will eventually reach the edge of the dimension of which Senkai is comprised, and find ourselves in the world between worlds."

"But would that not bring us straight back to Kanako Yasaka?" Reimu asked.

"Not necessarily. Imagine you had a sea upon which sat a pair of islands. You could build a large bridge between the islands and have everyone use that bridge, or you could have everyone build their own bridge."

Marisa scratched her head. "I get that, but what does that have to do with this?"

"Senkai was founded on the idea of ease of passage between the worlds, but only for those who were worthy of the convenience. Ostensibly, that meant hermits could pass to and from Senkai easily, but all others would find it extremely difficult. So, it was as if we had built a bridge just for us, and everyone else had to build their own bridges to Senkai – a task which would be impossible if you did not have the requisite skill or knowledge. However, as it turned out, certain individuals with certain powers could also obtain access to that bridge, such as our dear friend, the god of heavenliness and of the dimensions."

"Kanako Yasaka."

"Precisely. Her divine abilities allowed her to find the bridges that connected the dimensions and alter their function, or even destroy them completely. Of course, I had no idea that she could do such a thing until, well, five minutes ago."

"Does that mean we're at risk of being trapped here for eternity if she severs the link between Senkai and Gensokyo?"

"Not quite. For one, even a god would find it difficult to erode such a well-established and well-developed dimensional pathway. For another, I doubt she would want me to stay here forever. She needs me in her plans for the great war between religions, after all. She might let me leave, but if she saw you with me, she would try her damnedest to send us back here. And I have no intention of leaving you here to decompose for the rest of time. You're my guests in this realm, and my obligation as a host involves my seeing that you return home safely."

"I'm grateful for that."

"As you should be." Miko winked. "In either case, all we have to do is make our own bridge. And to do that, we need your help, traveler."

"How would I help?" I asked.

"Dimensional bridges are not an easy thing to make, yet it seems like you've been generating them pretty much at will. There are only a few established pathways in the dimension between worlds, and a road from Former Hell to the Human Village, as an example from you've just told me, is not one of them. From that, I can speculate that your ability isn't merely to traverse the dimensional pathways, but to create them as well."

"So, if we fly out to the edge of Senkai and break through the dimensional bubble, I can start charting a course back home?"

"Indeed. With some luck, we will catch Yasaka out before she can react to the newest bridge you're making, and we'll be home in double-quick time. I suspect she will be watching the hermit passage between Senkai and Gensokyo very closely – hopefully too closely for her to notice us until it's too late."

"She certainly seemed to be aware of me the last few times I tried teleporting. But it's worth a try."

"Better than eking out a life for eternity in this place, anyway. I enjoy Senkai, it being my own creation and all, but even I grow tired of the same old scenery." Miko rose to her feet, and we did the same. "Let's hop to it."

"Hold on," said Marisa as we made our way down the marble steps and into the courtyard. "I can't fly, and neither can the traveler. I left my broom in the Moriya Shrine."

"Good thing we're in my domain, then." Miko clicked her fingers, and a broom materialized in her hand. "This should do it. It's fully charged with the magic of the realm, just like everything else here, so you should be able to channel your flying abilities into it as well."

"Impressive," Reimu commented. "I see you in a new light now, Toyosatomimi no Miko."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to buddy up to you. My conscience and my sense of duty bid me assist you in your escape. Plus, I owe the traveler one. For… various things."

We barely had time to ask what those things might be when Miko lifted off the ground and beckoned for us to follow. "Let's not waste any time," she called.

As we pierced through the fog, the topology of Senkai as a whole slowly rose from its erstwhile obscurity. What little we had seen of Senkai had merely been a microcosm of the realm as a whole – the higher we ascended, the more mountains and waterfalls we could see, until my vision was filled with nothing but crests and troughs, with the odd streak of water marring the rocky oscillation. Above it all was laid a stark white blanket of clouds, and beyond that, there was nothing.

"How will we know if we're near the edge?" I yelled at the gradually receding figure in front of us.

"We won't," Miko replied. "We'll find out when we get there."

For a while, all was silent save for the stream of air roaring past my ears. Then, out of nowhere, the broom came to an abrupt stop, and the inertia sent me flying over Marisa and into the empty air. I closed my eyes instinctively, as if bracing for some unseen impact, but that never came to pass. Upon opening my eyes again, I found myself floating in an empty, dark void. In the distance was what I came to recognize as Senkai, now cased inside a large watery bubble, just as Miko had predicted.

"I can't believe it's an actual bubble," I found myself saying.

"Wouldn't be a surprise, to be honest, since that's what you expected it to be."

I turned to find Miko, Reimu and Marisa hovering behind me. A great surprise, considering I had never been able to feel, let alone see, my companions during my previous jaunts through the world between worlds, but the surprise was nonetheless a welcome one.

"This looks nothing like what I expected it to be," I commented.

"Magic is all about perspective," Miko explained. "In your previous trips, you always knew where you were going, so the way forward was a lot clearer. This time, you have no idea what to expect, so your mind decided to fill in the gaps. That's also why Senkai looks like a bubble – you expected it to be a bubble, given what I told you in the Mausoleum, so that's how it looks to you."

"But why does it look like a bubble to you as well?" I asked.

"You're the one doing all the heavy lifting in terms of teleporting, so all the things we see here is based on what you perceive them to be." Miko patted my shoulder. "We're in your hands now. No pressure."

"I will endeavor not to disappoint. So, what do I do now?"

"Just try and recall what you've already been doing when you want to move from place to place. Better make it quick, though – I don't think our presence here will go unnoticed for too long."

The bubble that encased Senkai began to fade into the void. A cluster of tendrils reached out from the sheer, unadulterated dark, eating away at the waning vibrancy of Toyosatomimi no Miko's pet creation.

"What's happening?"

"Your perception of Senkai is fading. That either means your magic is being drained, or someone else is attempting to encroach on your thoughts. My guess is that it's the latter. You must make haste."

"Where should we go?" I asked hurriedly.

"Take us to the Human Village. We can shelter there for the time being, and I will be well-placed to meet Byakuren Hijiri upon her return to the Temple."

"Very well." Shutting my eyes, I reached into my memories of the Human Village. I recalled the smiling and cheery face of Kosuzu as she bustled about her bookstore, the Suzunaan; the tavern in which I had resided, including enjoying a mid-afternoon lunch with Keine, Marisa, and Reimu; the assiduously and meticulously crafted stone statue, rearing its mighty head in the middle of a busy street. It was difficult to ignore the specter of the imminent danger that loomed large towards the four of us, but the recollections of my first real and settled abode in this land brought me an unspeakable yet very much tangible peace of mind.

The fear was taken from my heart. The desolate and formless chasm of dimensional unreality was eased away by the soft, crisp breeze blowing across my cheek. The ground shifted beneath my feet, and my shoes landed on solid earth. The sun peered into the gap between my eyelids, and I opened my eyes to welcome the new light.

I was home. For now.

Chapter Text

A haughty figure, hands on her hips, stood at the doorway. She was diminutive, petite, clad in a pink dress and a matching cap that seemed designed to draw attention to her childlike demeanor and juvenile innocence. But the illusion was quickly spoiled by the large pair of crooked, twisted, ugly wings that protruded from behind her, a symbol of the cruelty and malice that her kind were renowned for. I put down the cup of tea that had been in my hand and stood, not quite knowing what to expect. I was confronted with one of the most powerful entities that Gensokyo had ever beheld – the least I could do was stand at attention and hope not to be swallowed whole, either by the alluring façade of the vampire child, or by the jaws of the vociferous beast that hid behind it.

"You are the storyteller," she stated matter-of-factly. I could not tell if that was supposed to be a question, or an affirmation of what she beheld before her bloodshot eyes.

"That I am," I responded. "And you are?"

The figure scoffed. "How could you not have heard of me? Some storyteller you are."

"Forgive me, Miss Scarlet. Just a moment of facetiousness."

"Hmph. Miss Izayoi, thank you for seeing to our guest. Please leave us."

The maid bowed and made to leave, skewering my gaze with a glare of her own. It seemed that the daggers strapped to her thighs were not the only blades she wielded.

"Now then." Remilia Scarlet took her maid's place at the couch across from me, and began pouring herself a cup of tea as well. "We can get to discussing some more important matters."

"As you wish."

"My sources tell me you are a chronicler from the outside world. Is that true?"

"Your sources are well placed." I smiled. "Indeed, I am from beyond."

"And you came through the Hakurei Shrine?"

"There is no more reliable way through the Barrier."

"That is understandable." Remilia reclined onto the cushion propping up her back and stared at me. "Though it concerns me that someone from the outside world might enter our domain at will. As you may be aware, Gensokyo's founding was predicated on the difficulty of voluntary travel between one dimension and another. If it were not so hard – impossible, even – to traverse the Barrier voluntarily, then the very purpose of this realm, its raison d'etre, would cease to be. As far as I know, none have entered here on their own volition, and none have exited it in the same manner either."

"I am not most humans," I replied. "Rest assured I have done my research on this place. I know all the facts and facets of Gensokyo like the back of my hand."

"I see that now." Remilia squinted at me, the crimson orbs through which she peered at her prey narrowing into slits. "You can see why I might be… concerned. Normally, one such as yourself would be considered too dangerous to be left alive."

"Unfortunately, if you do plan on killing me, you may find yourself disappointed with the results. My abilities allow me to enter at will, but they also allow me to depart."

"Of course, of course." A leering grin tugged at Remilia's cheeks. "But surely you did not expect me not to prepare for such an inevitability."

A tinge of anxiety tugged at my chest. "What do you mean?"

"You can flee from this Mansion, but you cannot flee from Gensokyo unless you return to the Shrine. There are no other portals to and from the outside world through which you can willingly cross. That is the truth, is it not?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Then I am afraid your naivety has been your undoing. You were lost to the world the moment you set foot into this mansion."

Without warning, my eyes began to water, and my head began to pound. The chamber in which I sat seemed to melt into darkness – the walls crumbled into shards of black and gray, and the velvet carpet crawled into the gaping abyss that had swallowed the ground whole. The ground abruptly gave way – I could feel myself falling into an endless hole from which I knew there would be no escape.

"What have you…" I stuttered as I placed a trembling hand on my temple, my thoughts growing denser and heavier by the moment.

"I cannot prevent you from leaving." Remilia Scarlet continued to sip her tea with the usual nonchalance, her features now breaking into a triumphant smile. "But I can prevent you from remembering how to leave. After all, what good is knowledge if it cannot be recalled?"

Chapter Text

Late afternoon in Gensokyo invariably brought with it a charm that could be matched by few other locations in the world, whether inside or outside the Barrier. Unfortunately, though I could remember having seen sunsets in the outside world, I could not recall exactly where I had seen them. They were like pictures plastered across the walls of my mind, without names or locations to define them. In fact, everything that I remembered about the outside world was the same: just an array of meaningless images and sounds. I knew what an airplane was; I could not remember when or where I had taken one.

But something about the way in which the rays of the sun scattered across the sky, trails of red and orange casting shadows beyond the clouds that dotted the landscape, felt just that extra bit magical to me. Maybe it really was magical in a literal sense, and the special nature of the sunlight in Gensokyo could merely be attributed to the condensation of ethereal powers in the air. But I generally prefer not to be too cynical when describing Gensokyo's overall grandeur, and this is – and was – no different.

Upon our arrival in the outskirts of the Human Village, we were greeted by the guardian of the town, a certain were-hakutaku that I once had the pleasure of dining with. We had not departed on the best of terms, but that seemed to be long forgotten as she rushed to help us to our feet, and assured us that we were very much safe here from the clutches of those who might seek to do harm to us, or to Gensokyo as a whole. As a manipulator of time and a loyal custodian of the human community, Keine Kamishirasawa was one of Gensokyo's safer bets in terms of beings you could rely on to protect your person from the machinations of the perils without.

"I have watched your travails on the night of the full moon, and my only regret is that I could not have helped you," she said as we entered the town and returned to the welcome mundanity of the people going about their business as night began to fall. "By the time the full moon came, it had already been far too late. Though my abilities do not exactly lend themselves to matters of dimensional trickery…"

"It's fine, Keine. Really." Reimu put a hand on Keine's shoulder. "We are grateful for your hospitality."

"Of course. Though… I hate to sound captious or further compound your worries, but youkai sightings near the Village have increased significantly since the two of you have been absent. I have been able to deal with them, with some assistance, but the youkai are relentless in their belligerence." She turned to Miko. "Have you set Nue and Mamizou free? Their presence will be a great boon to our efforts."

"I have, but I left them on the Mountain. I suspect they, and Byakuren, will find their way back in due time."

"That is good to hear. I am not overly fond of the way in which you handled this incident, but given the extenuating circumstances, I will let it slide for now."

"I'll admit a little rashness in judgment, but I only do what I feel is best. Nothing less, nothing more. That is my principle."

"It would not have hurt to have shown a little foresight. Nevertheless, the matter is closed for the moment. We should wait for Byakuren Hijiri and see what she has to say. In the meantime, you are welcome to board at the tavern where the traveler is residing. I will see to it that you are fed and washed, then you are free to go about your business as long as you do not leave the Village."

None of us had any objections to that offer, and so we were duly given hot meals, access to the small bath at the back of the inn, and rooms each in which to rest for the night. I had my own bedroom, whilst the others occupied the adjacent lodgings.

The waning moon pooled into the room and gathered on the table. I recalled Keine claiming that the full moon had only been a few days past, meaning we would not have to worry about any attacks from stray were-hakutaku – or were- anything, for that matter – for some time. I stared into the deep blue sky, reminiscing about a world that, with every passing day, seemed less and less my own. Out there somewhere were people who perhaps wondered about me, waited for my safe return. Or maybe time in Gensokyo was frozen when compared to the timeline of the outside world, meaning that if I ever did reappear, it would be as if nothing had ever happened at all.

Or, in the worst-case scenario, my existence had been ripped from the reality of the outside world, and no one ever knew or remembered that I existed, which consequently meant that my life's purpose only stemmed from how I used my time in Gensokyo. The social bonds that I formed, the things that I did – all would find their meaning here, and nowhere else.

A knock on the door roused me from my thoughts. "Yes?" I called.

The door creaked open. "How are you feeling?"

"I have a feeling I'll sleep very well tonight." I patted the mattress, feeling its springy exterior bounce under my palm.

Marisa chuckled. "I think so too." She laid herself comfortably onto the bed, spreading her arms out and sighing audibly.

"Tired?" I asked.

"More than you know. You'd think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now. I've had long trips away from my hut in the Forest, trips where I've had to battle with youkai, with hermits, and even with gods. But there's an element of this latest journey that just felt… different. Like I wasn't in total control of proceedings for once. And I'm not sure if I like that."

"Sometimes it's nice to be the passenger. I've played that role pretty much since the moment I met Reimu. It hasn't been easy, but it's refreshing in its own way."

"You're not wrong." A pause. "Aren't you sleepy?"

"I am, but my place of slumber seems to be otherwise engaged."

"There's enough room here for two. It's a double bed, after all."

Another pause.

Wordlessly, I stood up and joined the blonde-haired witch in repose. The two of us stared at the ceiling in silence.

"Do you still think of going back?" Marisa asked.

"It's hard to say." I bit my lip. "On the one hand, the vast majority of my memories, broken and battered as they are, still come from the outside world. On the other hand, they mean nothing to me. It's like I've just watched a long pantomime of pictures and sounds, but with nothing to help me give them any sort of significance. All my most concrete recollections are of Gensokyo, and Genskoyo only."

"If you regained your memories in full, would you want to go back?"

"That would depend on what sorts of memories they were. Maybe if I had a family, or a partner, or children, and my love for them remained intact, then I would want to go back to them. That's just a possibility, though. Not a very likely one either."

There was no reply.

"Marisa?" I turned to look at her, and she turned to look at me. Her eyes were round, glowing warmly in the moonlight, and awash with an unexpected sadness.

"So, you would just leave us?" Her voice wavered slightly.

"Like I said, it's just a possibility. But even if that were the case, I think I'd find it very, very hard to depart. There's so much that I still have yet to see and do, and there's so many great people that I've met here. To leave it all behind would be to leave an irreparable gap in my soul. I sincerely believe that."

Without another word, Marisa sat up, slid off the bed and made to leave the room. As she opened the door, she looked back at me. The wistfulness on her face shot a pang of guilt into my chest, even though I knew I had not said anything she did not expect me to say.

"I don't want you to leave," she murmured.

The door closed, and I was alone again.

The rest of the week was spent busying myself at the Suzunaan bookstore, where Kosuzu – and Hieda no Akyuu, on the occasions that she did stop by – welcomed me back with open arms. Kosuzu handled the day-to-day running of the bookstore, while I was chiefly in charge of delivering books, reordering shelves, and on occasion asking for overdue rentals to be returned, which was admittedly a task that I felt considerable trepidation about performing. Thankfully, everyone in the Human Village had a favorable impression of the cute and sanguine Kosuzu, so the people I visited were more than happy to retrieve and return their books, and throw in a small late fee as a tip for my trouble.

On the quieter days, when there were no deliveries to be made, I would sit in a corner of the bookstore and read. It would have been nice to find some people to talk to, but Reimu had already returned to the Shrine to catch up with the youkai extermination duties she had been neglecting, while Marisa and Miko remained at the tavern, awaiting news of Byakuren's return. I had not spoken to either of them since the first night, and while I did want to check on Marisa, I ultimately decided it would be better for her to come and speak to me on her own terms – after all, the more cynical part of me knew that I had nothing to apologize for. Unfortunately, that did not happen, and so as the weekend drew nearer I found myself worrying more and more about what sort of impression she currently had of me. I thought of her as one of my closest friends in Gensokyo, so it was natural that I would be perturbed, but I had no idea if she saw the relationship between us in the same light.

Maybe she felt it was less than that. Or maybe she felt that it was more. It was hard to say.

The more time I spent around the maidens of Gensokyo, the more I felt that most of them wore a variety of masks. Reimu's mask was one of duty, of honor, and of quiet austerity; Marisa's was one of optimism, of buoyance, and of cheerful insouciance. Byakuren and Miko's facades were reflections of their respective religions, and their places as the figureheads of those beliefs; the two gods of the Moriya Shrine had a more complicated set of rules by which they lived, sometimes playing the benevolent and benefactory deities, sometimes playing the malevolent harbingers of destruction. All the maidens were very much players on a stage set across Gensokyo's resplendent landscape.

One day, I found myself sitting at my usual spot, looking out at the street, letting the drone of the crowd filter through the curtains and wash over my senses.

"Bored?" asked a voice. I turned to find Kosuzu standing behind me, tray with two cups of cold tea in hand.

"Somewhat. Thank you." I took one of the cups and sipped from it, returning my gaze to the window. "Just observing the people going about their day."

Kosuzu pulled up a nearby chair and took a seat next to me. "You like watching people?"

"No more than I like watching the scenery. I enjoy observing things in motion."

"Is that what brought you here? To Gensokyo?"

"I wish I knew. Sometimes I feel like I can't sit still. Other times I feel like I'd like nothing better than to eke out a quiet life in this village. It's strange."

"You are the traveler, after all." Kosuzu giggled.

"That is what they call me, yes." I smiled. "But only for lack of a better name."

"It's a good name. I think it suits you in many ways. You came here from far beyond the Barrier, yet you never sought to hide away from this world, like most of the others have done."

"I'm peripatetic. I guess it's just part of my personality."

"Maybe so. But you seem to show no fear whatsoever of the unknown. I find that admirable, but I have to admit that I also find it a little… unusual."

"I can never shake the feeling that I have a mandate to explore this world. Almost as if…" I frowned. "Almost as if I had something I needed to do here. Something I needed to see, or visit."

"I've never heard any of the others from beyond say anything like that." Kosuzu glanced at me. "How much of the outside world do you remember?"

"Just fragments. Bits and pieces."

"Do any of the memories have anything in common?"

"Not particularly. Why do you ask?"

"It's just… I was reading a book the other day."

"What was it about?"

Kosuzu shifted in her seat and puckered her lips, as if straining to remember what she had read. "It was a survey of residual memories from people who had been transported to Gensokyo from the outside world. The vast majority of people either remembered nothing, or only recalled particular segments of their old life."

"Sounds a bit like me."

"It does, doesn't it? But all the ones that said they remembered certain things also mentioned names and faces, though they no longer meant anything to them. Do you remember any names or faces?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't. I have absolutely no recollection of anything that might hint at where I'm from or who I am."

"That's strange. There's a first for everything, I guess."

We whittled the afternoon away with small talk, and as the sky turned from blue to red, then to blue again, I bade farewell for the day and returned to the tavern. A meal and a bath soon followed – just as they had done every night that I spent in the Village – then it was back to the warm and velvety embrace of the cotton sheets spread across my bed mattress. At some point, slumber beckoned, and I answered the call.

I woke to find myself in eerily recognizable surrounds. A wide expanse of grass, the stars and moon shining overhead, a gentle breeze winnowing across the plains.

"I've seen this before," I muttered.

"Indeed you have," said a voice.

I sat up. "Could that be… Suwako Moriya?"

"You have a keen memory of things, as always," Suwako Moriya chirped. "I am glad to see you are safe."

"Quite a thing to say, considering you helped put us in that predicament."

"For what it is worth, I will offer you an apology. But anyone in my position can ill afford to be foolhardy."

"Why not? You are a god, after all."

"Yasaka mentioned to you that she is the overseer of the Moriya Shrine, even though the Shrine itself still bears my name. When she draws up her plans for the betterment of the Shrine, I cannot find it in myself to disobey – she is much stronger and much smarter than I, after all, even if it pains me to admit it."

"You said you would help us. You gave me your word."

"And so I did, to the best of my ability. You may not know it, but my interventions prevented the worst case scenario from becoming reality. I bid the hermit talk to you, and I asked that Yasaka show restraint. Yet I cannot outright go against Yasaka's wishes - we are friends, but we are not equals. The dynamic between us is never so simple."

"So, you are scared of her."

"If that is how you want to put it." I could hear the indignation in her voice, but after what she had put me and the others through, I felt I was entitled to at least that much.

"That's how I want to put it. So, what do you want with me now?"

"I would like you to come to my location. Yasaka and I have something that might assist you in your efforts to find out more about your past."

"Your location? Whereabouts? And what would that thing be?"

"You will see when you arrive. I am at a place you should know as well as any of the others you have visited. Come, and you shall find what you seek. But on one condition: you are to come alone."

"That sounds awfully suspicious. Why can't Marisa or Reimu come with me?"

"I would rather they not see what I am going to show you. Again, you will find out when you are here."

"And where would 'here' be?"

"The courtyard of the Palace of the Earth Spirits. Wait for me at the mouth of the hole that descends into the great subterranean furnace. Rest assured that I will know when you have arrived."

Without another word, the darkness swallowed me whole, and my consciousness deserted me once again.

I stood at the mouth of the slope that descended into hell.

I reached my hands out as if warming my palms over a fire. The warmth did not oblige, and the undying night remained as cold as it had been for the past hour. I sighed.

It had been surprisingly easy for me to excuse myself from the Human Village. Marisa, Reimu and Miko assumed I would be at the bookstore, and as they had their own errands to attend to, they did not attempt to make sure I was doing what I was apparently supposed to be doing. The illusion was complete once I told Kosuzu that I had someone I needed to visit for the day; she thankfully did not probe further, and so all the proverbial loose ends were tied without much trouble. The journey back to Former Hell was undertaken in a straightforward manner as well – I trusted that, given that Suwako apparently had Kanako Yasaka's blessings in asking me to come here, I would not be spirited back into Senkai, or somewhere much worse – maybe the current manifestation of Hell (a logical conclusion given the presence of a "Former" Hell), or even the Moon. My trip to the underworld was thankfully unimpeded, and I arrived in the courtyard where I had stood just two weeks prior as a guest of the master of this palace, Satori Komeiji.

I arrived to find Satori Komeiji once again playing the obliging host, standing by the entrance to the Nuclear Furnace, nodding in greeting as I materialized.

"Welcome back, traveler," she said, smiling warmly.

"Thank you." A chill ran down my spine, but it was merely due to the frostiness of the surrounds that had laid claim to the courtyard. I rubbed my elbows, and Satori noticed my troubled features.

"Here, stand by me. It is much warmer here."

I stepped towards the hole and peered inside. A dim red glow emanated from deep within.

"Are Suwako Moriya and Kanako Yasaka here?" I asked.

"They are. Miss Yasaka is at the geysers – she will not be available for the time being. Miss Moriya should be coming up shortly."

A shadow stretched across the glow, and the tired features of the god atop the Mountain emerged.

"Thank you for coming, traveler from beyond." Suwako Moriya beckoned for me to enter. "Watch your step."

Satori and I gingerly descended into the abyss. As we followed Moriya into the depths, the color of the light began to brighten, transforming from a deep vermilion to a cheerier orange, punctuated by an occasional flare of lemon yellow.

"We are not quite at the Furnace yet, if you are curious," Suwako said as the heat began to send a different sort of chill down my spine. "This is what we call the Remains of Hell."

"The remains?"

"Look down below."

We found ourselves in a spacious chamber of rock, sloping unevenly towards a closed ceiling above us, and stretching downwards for untold miles into what appeared to be a broiling, searing bed of magma. The only thing stopping us from falling into the scorching hot abyss was a flimsy-looking metal walkway, held aloft by an array of thick pillars that pierced through the lava, seemingly unperturbed by the sheer heat that surrounded them. There were railings to prevent the unsuspecting from losing their balance, but even with those barriers it was difficult for any users of the passageway to feel entirely secure about making their way across the expanse, especially given the all-encompassing warmth that permeated throughout the chamber, giving the place the feeling of an uncomfortably dry sauna.

"The fires of Hell once burned day and night inside this room, punishing the deserving, and sometimes the undeserving." Moriya gazed impassively at the sea of molten rock. "But the genesis of Gensokyo also created an imbalance within the dimensional fabric of this space. Coupled with the burgeoning issue of overpopulation within Hell, it was decided that Hell would be transported to a more suitable location within the confines of Gensokyo's underbelly. So, the fires were doused, and the spirits who were doomed to burn for eternity were made to burn somewhere else."

"It still seems pretty hot to me," I commented.

"That is because we have reignited the flames. The Furnace can only serve its purpose as long as the Remains of Hell are still alive to power it. But its energy is no longer derived purely from the geothermal motivations of the Earth's mantle."

"Then what fuels the…" A thought suddenly struck me – a memory of a conversation I'd had with Marisa the last time we had come to the underworld.

"Corpses," I breathed. "Corpses power the Nuclear Furnace."

"I am surprised you knew. Though, given your proximity to so many of the realm's most knowledgeable figures, I suppose nothing of the sort should be so surprising."

"But surely that must mean a lot of corpses? I don't know the details, but that is a lot of biomass to go through to maintain such intense heat. And it doesn't seem like Gensokyo has enough bodies to go around."

"It is not the physical forms of the corpses per se that gives the Furnace its fuel." Suwako stopped and leaned over the railing, gesturing for me to do the same. "Look carefully. It is not only magma that inhabits the pit."

I peered into the lava, squinting as the searing light and heat burned flashes and shapes into my retinas. But just before I was forced to draw my face away from the fire, I noticed that whenever a flicker of lava rose from above the otherwise smooth exterior, it seemed to release a wisp of white smoke into the air that coalesced into a solid form and twirled around in the air before plunging back into the magma with a splash. Unusual, given what admittedly little I knew about how molten rock worked.

"That is a spirit," explained Suwako Moriya. "But not just any run-of-the-mill spirit. It is a vengeful spirit."

"A vengeful spirit?"

"Not quite a whole vengeful spirit, but the remnants of one. They are found in the corpses of people who have unfulfilled desires, or have been wronged in some form or fashion whilst they were alive. Most of the spirit follows the soul into judgment, to be sent to Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory."

"There doesn't seem to be a lot of them."

"Most of them do not make it to the surface. They constantly clamber over each other deep inside the magma, hoping for a chance to breathe the air before being hauled back into the molten mass. It is not an ideal existence, but it is just as well that they are not conscious – they are spirits, not souls. Their fury, and their perpetual struggle against other spirits, generate spiritual energy. The pressure and heat of the rock converts this spiritual energy into thermal energy, which in turn feeds the conversion itself. It is an endless cycle of fire and fury."

"A surprisingly scientific endeavor," I commented.

"We are behind your time in terms of technology, but we are not savages. We must make do with what little we have."

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that," I smiled. "It is very impressive."

"I am glad you think so. I hope you feel more informed on the ways of our world now." Without missing a beat, Suwako Moriya turned and continued down the walkway. "Come. I will show you to the Furnace next."

The Nuclear Furnace was, to my great shock, like any other power plant you might find in the outside world. Kappa and tengu bustled about as they tapped on mechanical consoles embedded into the walls of the control room, which was itself a ringed passageway surrounding the reactor core. We were shielded from the bulk of the core's radiation by a set of thick glass walls that shimmered with ethereal magic. Glass alone was not enough to block the harmful rays completely, as Moriya pointed out, but the strategic placing of spell seals around the control room generated a barrier that transported the remaining radiation back into the core itself, which also helped hasten the process of fusion.

As I was not a scientist – and had never been, judging by the considerable lack of knowledge I possessed regarding nuclear plants from the outside world – I could not understand more than the rudimentary basics of Suwako and Kanako's grand plan to bring nuclear energy to Gensokyo. I did know, however, that the consistent application of nuclear fusion towards energy generation had not yet been achieved in the outside world, given that the vast majority of nuclear plants used nuclear fission instead. So, it was doubly awe-inspiring that such a feat had been achieved here in Gensokyo, where most of the other forms of technology used by the residents had remained unchanged for veritable centuries.

"The extreme conditions created by the magma smashes and fuses molecules together, which allows them to release energy," Suwako noted. The reactor core, a brightly shining white orb floating in midair, received the concentrated heat through pumps that constantly shuttled magma into a network of pipes surrounding the core. This meant that the core would never be allowed to cool, instead remaining heated for as long as the molten rock above continued to provide its spiritually infused warmth.

"How do you feel about having all this activity under your feet?" It was a question I felt compelled to ask Satori, given that she ostensibly oversaw the comings and goings of all the entities that worked here.

"As long as they do not cause me any trouble, I am content for them to do what they need to do." Satori reached a hand out and brushed it against the jagged walls. "I do not understand fully the meaning behind all this… machinery, but if it is for the good of the realm, then I am willing to give what little help I can furnish."

"I apologize for any disruptions that may be caused to you," Suwako said, bowing towards Satori. "It is as you say. This is vitally important work, not just for my and Kanako's own interests, but for the greater good of Gensokyo as a whole."

"But what use is the generation of energy on such a scale if it isn't being used to benefit the people who live here?" I asked. "For example, it seems like you have a perfectly good source of electricity here, yet the rest of Gensokyo is still living on wicker lamps and candles."

"The technology may appear to be complete, but in truth it is still very much an unfinished and untested science. What you see here is not by any means the final results of our research. Indeed, as you noted, there is an absence of other concurrent forms of technology, which hinders us greatly in certain respects. That is why we need an image of the technology of your time, so we might obtain a better picture of what it is that we lack."

"And how do you propose to get this… image of my time?" I had an inkling of what Suwako was planning, but my mind refused to believe that she would suggest it, or even that it could be done at all. Unfortunately, my fears were not to be denied.

We were led into a small side chamber. A chair had been placed in the middle of the room, and the floor of the room was covered in intricate carvings. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the carvings formed a magic circle – a rarity in a place like Gensokyo, where most magic was confined within living beings, but nonetheless a substantive component of the magical tapestry.

"This is a dissection circle," said Suwako. "Put simply, it opens up the composite parts of anything placed in the center of the circle, allowing observers to view its inner workings. Only figuratively, of course – you will not be opened up unceremoniously like a cadaver."

"Judging by what you say, you want me to sit in the chair and be 'opened up', so to speak." I frowned.

"Indeed."

"And may I ask why?"

"An interesting thing happens when a living being is magically dissected via a dissection circle. It seems that not only physical things are exposed – metaphysical objects, too, are revealed. Memories, for example."

"So, you're thinking about looking into my mind to find hidden images of my old reality?"

"Exactly right."

"You do realize that my memories have been erased, right?"

"Of course. But there are many forms of erasure. Some spells place active barriers around your well of memories that prevent you from recalling them. Others simply make you forget that you had those memories in the first place, even though your original memories may still be intact."

"The traveler's memories have most definitely been altered," Satori interjected. "I can attest to that. He kindly allowed me to see inside them, and I observed that they were artificially changed, most likely by someone from the Scarlet Devil Mansion. If his memories are indeed still there, they are beyond my reach."

"Regardless, we will uncover the truth of this matter once we run a full scan of the traveler's mind." Suwako gestured towards the chair. "Please."

I did not budge. "I still have my misgivings," I said.

"I am offering you what you have been seeking." Suwako scratched her head, as if failing to understand my reticence. "A key to your past, and a chance to recover that which was lost to you. Is that not what you have been looking for?"

"Is this why you didn't want Reimu or Marisa to come? You thought they might try and dissuade me from recovering my old memories?"

"It was a reasonably foreseeable outcome." Suwako folded her arms. "It would be troublesome if they were to intervene. I also wanted to ensure that the choice you made would be truly of your own volition. You may walk out of here without finding out the truth behind your past – Yasaka and I will not attempt to stop you. But this is the only time we will offer you this chance."

Every bone in my body screamed for me not to accept. I recognized that Suwako and Kanako, gods though they may be, were capable of any degree of manipulation and malice for the sake of achieving their goals – after all, they did attempt to bury us alive just a few days prior. But I was more worried about what my newfound memories, if indeed they could be found again, would do to my relationship with Marisa, Reimu, and my many other magical companions. Knowledge was not something easily hidden – sagacious and observant as they were, my acquaintances would soon discover what I had done, and the honorable part of me could not bear to do something that clearly went against their wishes without at least consulting them first.

Yet my travels thus far had been driven by a pure and simple desire for the truth behind my arrival in Gensokyo, and I knew deep down that if I spurned the opportunities that were afforded to me simply because I underestimated the strength of the bonds I had formed with the maidens of this realm, I would not be able to live with myself in the days that followed.

My feet, not entirely against my will, made my decision for me. I strode forward and sat myself on the chair.

A grin stretched across Suwako Moriya's face, and for a moment I wondered if I had made a mistake. But before I could will my legs to stand up again, the usual serene expression returned to her features, and she nodded.

"Let us begin, then," she said.

The world in front of me slipped into darkness.

The magic circle started to glow a deep crimson, tracing its delicate gossamer of runes and enchantments outwards from the center, as if the blood were being drawn out from my veins. In a sense, that was not too far departed from the sensation that I felt – it felt like every fiber of my being was being pulled out, string by string, until I was left as nothing but an empty husk. It was uncomfortable, and with each passing second my numbing limbs clamored for me to fall from the chair and break the spell. But something in my mind persuaded me that any discomfort, any sacrifice, was worth the price of the truth, and so I persevered.

At this point, I had seen reality as I knew it melt into nothing far more times than I could care to count. Every time I teleported, every time my mind or my magic was toyed with, pulled here and there by the deliberations of beings far greater and far more powerful than I could ever imagine… my mortal human frame could only take so much punishment. Yet as much as it pained me to say it, I had already become used to feeling the ground fall from beneath my feet.

Even the fires of hell seem tolerable if you are doomed to burn in them for long enough. After all, humans are nothing if not adaptable creatures.

Satori and Suwako had departed from the room, leaving me to my own devices. There were no windows, so I could not see what was going on outside. All I could do was sit, hands clasped, trying my best to keep my head screwed on as best as possible as my limbs grew number and number.

Without warning, I suddenly felt a cold sensation seep into my flesh. It started from my fingers, but worked its way deep into my skin, wrapping itself around my bones. It was as if my blood were being ossified, turned into icy stone as it struggled to maintain its flow through what few open vessels remained. A lump grew in my throat, but I could not scream. My joints grew rigid; my essence grew frigid.

This, I thought, was what it felt like to die.

Then, just as the frost was threatening to creep into my throat, the sensation stopped.

My eyes darted open.

I was lying in a bed. A lantern flickered faintly, casting its dim yellow glow against the ceiling. A small spider web was stretched across a corner, at the intersection of the ceiling and two adjacent walls. The air was slightly humid, but not uncomfortably so. A faint, damp smell filled the room, the smell of old oak and weather-worn sheets of paper.

I sat up. I was no longer at the room I had been in at the Furnace. Yet it did not feel as if I was in completely unfamiliar territory. Something about this place felt oddly nostalgic, oddly sentimental-

"I see you have woken up."

A desk was parked against the wall opposite the bed upon which I lay. In front of that table sat a purple-robed figure, whose gentle but clearly concerned expression, cast against the nascent light of the candle, caused my eyes to widen.

"P… Patchouli Knowledge?"

"Yes?" She tilted her head and stared at me quizzically. "That is my name."

"Where am I?" I asked.

"The Mansion Library, of course. Do not tell me you have already forgotten? Maybe that tome was a little too much for you to start off with. I would suggest taking some more time to rest if you are still unwell."

"The tome?"

"Yes, the tome. A book designed to bring your magical potential to bear. You were a non-magical being just moments ago, after all."

I recalled having a similar conversation with the maiden before me a month and a half ago, though given what had transpired between now and then – if "now" could even be quantified given my current predicament – it felt more like at least a year's worth of time. Yet I had somehow returned to this moment, a moment I had almost forgotten in all the tumult of my more immediate experiences. That was, of course, the day my magic had apparently been unlocked.

Or, if I were to trust in what I had learned so far, the day my memories had been taken from me.

My mind raced as I struggled to come up with a question that might help me glean the truth behind what had been done to me. Show too much foresight, and Patchouli might become wary of my motivations. Show too little, and I would leave here without learning anything new. I decided to start off with the most obvious question that came to mind.

"So, are you saying that I can use magic now?" I asked.

"That depends on you." Patchouli rose from her seat and poured out a cup of warm water, handing it to me. I nodded in thanks, and she sat at the foot of the bed, watching me closely as I sipped from the cup.

"How so?"

"Technically, all beings have the potential to use magic. Magic is energy, and it is brought forth by the soul through willpower. Normally, however, willpower alone is not sufficient to manifest magical energy, especially in an incipient form like your own. It must be married with belief, the belief that something fantastical and impossible will happen, even if your rational, logical mind tries to tell you otherwise. In other words, faith. Belief in the unbelievable."

I recalled Toyosatomimi no Miko saying something similar when we had first met in person at the Moriya Shrine. Belief in the divine, in the seraphic qualities of an icon or prophet, was one way in which the mind might bypass incongruent irrationality.

"And what exactly would I be able to do with magic?"

"Again, that depends on the person. Magic is in many ways a reflection of your personality, just as much as it is a reflection of your determination. A hasty, easygoing person might be most adept at shallow, rapid types of magic; a more introspective and introverted figure might have a greater affinity for more complex, more intricate spells."

"Which of those would I be?"

"That is for you to discover. You have not been here for long, and I am afraid I cannot tell you what your personality is if you do not know it yourself."

"Then I suppose I will have to go and do some exploring." I placed my feet on the floor and nursed my slightly aching head – or at least, tried to put on as best of an impression of a headache as I could. "Where would you suggest I go first, if I were to look for clues about my true self?"

"Perhaps near the Misty Lake, where you were first found. Or the Human Village. There are many others there like yourself, people who have crossed the Barrier inadvertently, hoping and waiting for a return to the outside world. That invariably never happens, however. You would do well enough to eke out a life here, in one form or another."

I saw an opening in Patchouli's words and latched onto it. "Speaking of Misty Lake… What happened after I was brought here from the Lake? I do not seem to remember much."

"One of the Mansion's servants found you, so they took care of you whilst you were unconscious."

"The maid?"

"Quite so." Patchouli smiled. "She was kind enough to watch over you while you slept. But she had some other matters to attend to, so I was tasked with ensuring that you rediscovered your will to live, so you might leave here with at least a fighting chance."

"I will always be grateful to you for that," I replied. "Except…"

"Hm?"

"If the maid that attended to me was gone by the time I had awoken, then surely I would not have remembered who she was, let alone that she was a maid at all. Why did you not question how I recalled who it was that took care of me?"

The smile on Patchouli's face froze.

"How… do you remember her?"

"I have a likelier hypothesis." A spike of fear shot into my heart, but I knew that this was perhaps the only way I could get Patchouli Knowledge to divulge anything – had I carried on with the charade, I would have learned nothing. "I had at least some lasting control over my memories before I entered this library, and they were fully taken from me by a spell from the tome. I was awoken and made to believe that I had been found as a non-magical human, just like most of the others, and then told that my loss of memories was a natural consequence of passing through the Barrier, rather than the result of some artificial magical intervention. Would that seem too far-fetched?"

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, slowly, Patchouli rose from the bed and stood in front of me, blocking out the light of the lantern. I could barely muster the courage to look up, but when I did, I saw a face that glared as icily as the chill that ran down my back.

"Before I send you back to sleep, I must know…" Her voice was colder than any I had heard in my travels thus far. "Why do you know all this?"

"I am not at ease to tell you," I replied nervously.

"You speak as if you know more than I presume you would know, given the effects of the spell that has been cast on you. But you do not seem to know anything concrete beyond the existence of the spell, particularly with regards to your past. After all, if you did know what you had known before, then you would not still be sitting here, entertaining my questions." She stroked her chin in thought. "That leads me to three possibilities. The first is that you are merely toying with me – which, knowing your prior personality, I feel would be an incongruous thing for you to do, though I will remain on guard in case that happens to be true. The second is that parts of your memory have remained intact. A possibility, but given the efficacy of the spell and the highly connected nature of cognitive recollection, I doubt that you would be able to muster anything rational from the sparse threads of memory that ostensibly remained."

She spun away and returned to her desk, taking a book from the nearby shelf and flipping through it. "Finally, the third. You have used one of the spells we know you to be able to use, but you do not remember using it."

"What would that spell be?" I couldn't help but ask. No sooner had the words left my mouth that I realized that, by asking that question, I had just confirmed Patchouli's suspicions.

Patchouli snapped the book shut. "I will not tell you more than you need to know. Now, begone."

She took a spell card from her pocket and waved it around the air. A faint smell of lavender crept into my nose. My eyelids drooped, and I struggled against the increasingly powerful effects of what was evidently some form of soporific, grasping onto the bedsheet for support.

"Sleep well." Patchouli came over to me and pushed me down, easing me into a supine position on the bed. "Pray that we never meet again."

The tension in my muscles, which had gripped my entire body and sent me into a state approaching paralysis, was suddenly released, and I fell noisily out of the bed upon which I lay, a bed not too dissimilar to the one that I had previously been sleeping on. Judging by the very real agony that I felt upon my elbow colliding painfully with the hard, rocky ground, I could at least tell the difference between my current situation and my erstwhile brief traipse into the past, which now felt as if it had all been a dream. I curled up into a ball and rubbed the base of my arm, where the pain was now multiplying seemingly exponentially.

"Are you alright?" A figure in the corner of my eye rushed over and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll be fine." I looked up and found a pair of worried red eyes gazing back at me. "Satori?"

"Yes, it's me." The little maiden helped me to my feet.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around. I was in a room slightly bigger than Patchouli's, but the walls were made of jagged rock instead of wooden boards, and the only source of illumination came from a lamp swinging on a handle embedded into the wall across the room from where we stood.

"We are in a resting room in the Nuclear Furnace." Satori gestured for me to sit on the bed, and plopped herself down next to me. "You collapsed before Moriya could complete the spell. We heard you falling onto the floor, so Moriya decided to end the spell prematurely to prevent any further damage from being done to your body. Afterwards, we brought you here."

"Well, I would not say the spell didn't work at all," I commented.

"How so?"

"I saw a really strange dream. A dream that seemed almost as if it were based on reality, but one that revealed certain secrets about my current predicament that I would otherwise have never discovered." I gestured to Satori's third eye, which was as always strapped to Satori's chest. "Would you like to see?"

"If you will excuse me." Satori shut her other two eyes, and the third eye opened, blinking once before closing again. "I do not see anything."

"You don't see what I just dreamed?"

"I… No, I do not. But not only that. Between the moment the spell was activated, and now… There is nothing." She scratched her head. "Which is unusual."

"Unusual?"

"Normally, when a person sleeps, their mind remains active in some way, processing and digesting information as if it were watching a stage play, all whilst the body rests. Therefore, when I peer into their memories, I can see those strands of information being projected onto the theater of the slumbering mind, even if the person themselves does not remember it. But your mind seemed to have completely forfeited its ability to retrieve information throughout the duration that you were unconscious. It is as if you were dead, or… simply not there at all."

"How long was I out for?" I asked.

"Around ten minutes," came the response.

Ten minutes. That matched up with the amount of time I had spent in Patchouli's room – unusual in itself, since dreams tended to distort a person's sense of time, stretching it from seconds to minutes, or even minutes to hours.

Maybe I really had traveled back to the past; still, that theory remained a stab in the dark and nothing more. I knew that I needed to learn more about the magic that I could use, especially the spell that Patchouli had mentioned, before I could find any definitive answers to the growing number of questions that were emerging in my head.

The door to the room opened, and the head of Suwako protruded from the doorway. Upon seeing Satori and I, she sighed with relief.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"As well as can be expected." I gave her a reassuring smile, though my heart nonetheless clenched with unease. I did not know if what had just occurred was what Suwako had intended, and I felt that if I asked her directly she would not be forthcoming with her answer. "What happened with the spell?"

"I cannot say. Usually, we would be able to record your thoughts onto a screen outside the room, and then we would be able to sift through it. This time, however, something prevented us from doing so. The magical recorder we were using did not manage to detect anything."

I glanced at Satori, and she nodded back at me, as if to signify that what Suwako had said was true. I told Suwako about the dream I had just had, and as Suwako listened, her eyebrows began to furrow.

"It is very likely that what you saw was no dream at all," she said after I had finished. "The contents of your 'dream', coupled with the lack of visible activity from those ten minutes… Perhaps you did go back in time. But if you really had gone back in time, and revealed yourself to Patchouli as you said you had done, you would perhaps not be alive today. I hear the Scarlet Devil Mansion has a particular taste for flesh of the… more human variety."

"But how else could the 'dream' be explained?"

"Who knows?" Not the words I would have expected to hear from the mouth of a goddess, but then Suwako Moriya was no ordinary deity. "Do not seem so surprised," she added as if reading my mind. "I may be a goddess, but my purview extends only to the elements of the world that I am able to control. Beyond my abilities and corporeal form, which are indeed divine in strength and nature, I acquire knowledge in the same way that any mortal being might. As such, I cannot obtain knowledge about something that has never before been observed."

"Do you think Yasaka might know something about it?"

"She has mastery over the dimensions, but that extends only to the space inhabiting the heavens and the earth. Time is a whole other matter entirely. Not that there is a particular lack of entities with control over the spinning cogs of time, of course…"

Suwako did not finish her sentence, but the words left my lips before I was even aware of them.

"The maid," I said.

Suwako nodded. "The maid."

"Then if I were to seek answers, I would have to go to her."

"Precisely. Though, given the notorious intrigue that surrounds that place, and the unusual manner in which they dealt with you, I would give any notions of coming anywhere near the Mansion a thorough reconsideration. You have been there before, so perhaps you would be able to sneak in. I suspect that would not do you any good, however, given the power of the beings that guard that place."

"That would indeed be a problem. I could hardly walk in there and expect its inhabitants to acquiesce to my demands."

"It is a question without an answer, for now. You would be best served going over what that 'dream' of yours has taught you. Then one day, perhaps, you might be able to figure it out on your own."

"I will do that."

"Then I will see you out of this place. I apologize for causing you this unnecessary trouble – I had hoped for a more satisfactory result, but I suppose the mystique of the human mind is still beyond my understanding. Of course, that is what lends it its beauty."

We were led out of the Furnace control room, back over the walkway, and out into the cool air of the Palace courtyard. Suwako and Satori bowed, and with a deep intake of breath, I willed myself to depart from Former Hell for the second time in as many weeks.

Chapter Text

I sat cross-legged in front of a table, a warm cup of tea placed in front of me. Two more cups of tea had been positioned adjacent to my cup, and those corresponded to the two figures that stared at each other from opposite sides, each waiting for the other to make the fatal mistake of speaking first.

The silence rang deafeningly in my ears. My feet were numb, but I dared not move them for fear of making any sound.

How did it all come to this?

It had been a full week since we had returned to the Human Village, and the events that had transpired at the Furnace between now and then had occupied my thoughts fully, leaving no room for any other concerns. It was thus a great surprise to me when a sheepish and almost apologetic Mamizou Futatsuiwa showed up at the Suzunaan one day, asking to speak to me.

"I'm glad to see you are well," I said after shaking her hand.

"I heard about your efforts, and the efforts of Reimu Hakurei and Marisa Kirisame, to rescue me from the hermit's clutches. I appreciate your help greatly, though I am not sure how I might best repay you."

"Don't worry about it. I am just happy that you're safe, and I am sure Reimu and Marisa would say the same."

Mamizou bowed. "Then I must also apologize in advance, for I have another favor to ask of you."

"What would that favor be?"

"As you may have surmised from my presence here, Byakuren Hijiri has returned to the Myouren Temple. She is preparing for a second round of discussions with the hermit about how best to… split the difference, if you will."

"That is welcome news in itself," I replied. "I had been worrying that they might come to blows."

"They are not so uncivilized as to resort immediately to violence, though combat in itself can be as refined an art as any other. Nevertheless, the favor I am asking of you has to do with their negotiations. You see, they are in need of a mediator."

"And they want… me?"

The raccoon girl nodded. "Normally, discussions like these would be presided over by Keine Kamishirasawa, the one who holds knowledge over all of Gensokyo. But when I went to Keine, she told me to look for you instead. Her reasoning was that you, as a relatively recent arrival to this realm, would be best suited to the task, as you remain as yet free from the swaying of the winds of conflict, something that even Keine, in all her wisdom, lacks. Byakuren and Miko also agreed to this."

"I haven't actually agreed, though." I sighed. "But very well. When are these discussions taking place?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. Anyway, I have to go and tell Byakuren that you have agreed." Before I knew it, Mamizou was around the doorway and out. She turned to look at me, winked, and said, "You better be there."

"Yes, yes."

And so the following day, after I had my lunch at the tavern, I made my way up to the Myouren Temple. Upon mounting the steps leading up to the entrance, I was met by a familiar face.

"It's great to see you again," said Kogasa Tatara as she launched into a cute pirouette with the monstrous umbrella she always carried around. In the keen daylight, she seemed a much less menacing and more welcoming figure, though in truth she was never really that scary to begin with. A relief, but also a fatal flaw if she ever wished to satiate her hunger for the fright of others.

"Likewise." I patted her on the head, which elicited a surprised yelp. "I never got the opportunity to thank you for dragging us out of the Mausoleum."

"You can thank me by not treating me like a little kid." She rubbed her head, as if my hand had somehow scorched her, and pouted. "Boo!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"Ahh!" I yelled.

We stared at each other. It was apparent that I was now attempting to hold back laughter, as Kogasa's adorable features scrunched into a frown.

"Don't laugh!" she huffed, poking my stomach with the tip of her umbrella.

I looked away. "I'm not laughing. Really, I'm not."

"Liar!" she harrumphed, but ultimately she decided to let the matter go. "Byakuren is waiting for you. Come on."

"Along with Toyosatomimi no Miko, I'm presuming."

Kogasa shuddered visibly. "Let's not talk about that one."

"As you wish."

We weaved through the many corridors of the Temple, and soon found ourselves in front of a pair of paper sliding doors. Kogasa slid open one of the doors and gestured for me to enter.

"Aren't you coming in?" I asked as I dropped my voice to a whisper.

"Byakuren and the… hermit… asked for the two of them to be undisturbed."

"You mean I'm going in there alone with those two?" I hissed incredulously.

Kogasa placed a hand on my shoulder and shook her head. "Good luck." With a flash, she was around the corner and out of sight.

It was my turn to shake my head, but I knew what I had to do. I peered into the room and saw the two religious leaders, sat face to face, eyeing each other in stony silence.

"Excuse me…" I said as I closed the door behind me. The two of them turned to face me in eerie unison.

"Thank you for coming today," Byakuren Hijiri said, the first time I had heard her voice in what seemed like an eternity. She sounded hoarse and weary, as if she had just been engaged in a considerable number of bouts of verbal sparring. "I hope you have been well."

"I also appreciate you coming here, traveler." Toyosatomimi no Miko waved. "Please, sit."

A pang of dread struck my chest. I knew each of the people here well, and I knew they did not think ill of me, but I had never met them together in the same room for good reason. The scene before me took on the rather unsavory flavor of two mistresses fighting over the right to remain with the partner they had both been sharing, having tolerated each other's existence up until now. The situation had come to a head, and it was now time for the common link – me, in other words – to step in and cast judgment. I could not help but think that Keine Kamishirasawa had enjoined me to take her place for a more mischievous purpose than simply my status as a neutral and impartial observer.

I took a seat in front of them. A lukewarm mug of tea had already been prepared, and I wrapped my hands around it as I looked at each person in turn. Byakuren wore a tired expression, her timeless features beginning to show their age as her wavy hair collapsed onto her frame and her normally taut cheeks sagged; Miko, who squinted every time she cast her fierce gaze on her opposite number, was a paragon of focus, scrutinizing Byakuren's every motion, her fingers tapping impatiently on her elbows.

The awkwardness grew so unbearable that I was compelled to break the ice permeating through the air. But just as I opened my mouth, Miko also opened hers.

"Traveler, I must confess something." She looked unexpectedly contrite as she spoke. "The truth is, the majority of our negotiations were concluded in the Moriya Shrine. There is very little we have left to iron out with regards to our respective differences."

"Then what do you need me here for?"

"We just…" Byakuren blurted out, before falling silent again.

"It's a small matter, but the monk was set on making a mountain out of the proverbial molehill. You see, we had been talking about your abilities. Fascinating as they are, their range is limited – even more so now that Kanako Yasaka has been alerted to their potential – so I wondered if I would be able to teach you something, or at least draw out whatever other powers you might secretly be housing. I did not think much of it, but then Byakuren insisted that she would be the one to take you under her fold instead." Miko sighed. "In all honesty, I don't really mind, but ultimately you should be the one to choose. Don't you think?"

Yet another matter regarding me that had been decided without my knowing anything about it. "There's no third choice?" I asked tentatively.

"There are no better teachers of unlocking magical potential in the realm than the two of us, even if I do say so myself. After all, we've been doing this sort of thing for centuries, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to wait that long to find out what you can do."

Had this question been posed to me even a week ago, my answer would have been obvious and unwavering. Byakuren Hijiri had on many occasions gone out of her way to help me, a lost soul in need of guidance, and there were few others in this world filled with facades and lurking perils that I would put my full and complete trust in. But the inner voice that had urged me forward on my many adventures thus far was whispering again in my ear, urging me to take the path less traveled. The devil I knew would drag me to hell on the shortest route possible; the devil I didn't know might at least take me on a detour. In truth, my choice had been made for me ever since that one night where I had discovered that Toyosatomimi no Miko was far from the monster that I had made her out to be.

"Byakuren, you have been very kind to me these past few weeks," I said. "For that reason, I feel I cannot burden you any more than would be reasonably necessary. I would ask that you rest well, and return to your followers as energetic and enthusiastic as you have always been." I turned to Miko. "I'm in your care, if you'll have me."

Byakuren nodded, her expression serene even as her slouched shoulders betrayed her disappointment. Toyosatomimi no Miko beamed.

"Look forward to it," chirped the hermit.

With no further items on the agenda, Byakuren rose and made to leave.

"Am I to be assured that all will go as we have discussed?" Miko asked as Byakuren opened the sliding door.

Byakuren nodded. "A suitable site will be found in due course. I will have my followers assist yours should the need arise. Good day to you, Toyosatomimi no Miko. Traveler, I will find some way of properly expressing my gratitude and returning your favor in full, but I have some urgent matters to attend to for today. If you will excuse me."

The door snapped shut, and the two of us were left alone.

"She seems much less forthcoming that usual," I commented.

"The terms we agreed were not necessarily favorable to her, though she too stands to reap great benefit from our future arrangements. It is understandable that she would not be in an uplifting mood."

"What sort of agreements did you make with her? Byakuren mentioned something about a site."

"Well, amongst other things, she has agreed to relocate the Myouren Temple and hence expose the Great Mausoleum to the light of Gensokyo, which should hasten the latter stages of my resurrection and bring even more potential followers into the fold. She does not want to stray too far from the Human Villlage, since that is where many of her followers reside, but she also does not want to be too close to the Mausoleum either. It wouldn't be nice to have the home of your enemy too close by."

"I see. That sounds like a fair compromise."

"Byakuren is more averse to conflict than I expected. Though now I know that she is as fierce as any when it comes to protecting her own, as you have told me."

I stared at the tea leaves floating aimlessly about the circumference of my cup. "It is strange."

"What is?"

"Kanako Yasaka was fully convinced that the two of you would enter into an all-out conflict, and she was willing to stake everything she had on that presupposition being true. I can't lie; I thought the same. If I had not been so worried, I might not have had to trouble Marisa, Reimu, and ultimately you as well."

"There is an unspoken rule in Gensokyo that you may be aware of already." Miko stared outside the window, taking in what little of the view could be seen from our room. "Considering the great strength of those who make their home in this world, all who inhabit this land have constrained themselves from performing any actions that might threaten the overall harmony under which we live. Skirmishes may arise – battles, even – but when all is said and done, our utmost priority is the integrity of Gensokyo. Nothing else comes before that."

"Kanako Yasaka does not seem to agree. She said she would see this realm razed to the ground if it would benefit her to do so."

"Yes, well, Kanako Yasaka needs this place to stay healthy for her own sake. There are no followers to be found in the outside world anymore, and she knows it. If she doesn't, then that shows either a significant lack of foresight on her part, or a gross underestimation of the silent camaraderie that lurks underneath Gensokyo's apparently palpable discord." Miko drained the last of her tea and leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "Now then. Let's talk about your training."

"Yes, the training."

"On the topic of locations, I feel that it would be difficult for us to get you into Senkai if Kanako Yasaka is watching. Powerful as I am, the world between worlds is Yasaka's domain. Even the sturdiest of boats can be tipped over if the storm is strong enough."

"Would that prevent you from returning to Senkai if you were on your own?"

"Who knows? I would be willing to risk the trip if I were alone, but that is besides the point. How did you initially learn about your ability to traverse through the dimensions?"

"Marisa Kirisame was tutoring me. Though we didn't get much done before we were… interrupted."

"Then we should liaison with her first. Perhaps we will be able to use her help – and her cottage, if she'll allow us."

"That's a good idea."

"Then I will discuss this matter with her, and have her inform you of her decision tonight. We can smooth out the finer details of your training later. I shall go and look for Marisa; I bid you farewell for now." We stood, bowed to each other, and went our separate ways. Before I knew it, I had whittled the rest of the day away.

The arrival of nightfall came with some considerable trepidation on my behalf. It had slipped my mind that Marisa had been teaching me the ways of magic, and I wondered if she had any desire to take my lessons further now that peace had, for now, returned to our surroundings. As I ate my dinner alone at the tavern, Marisa entered the inn and, spotting me, came over to my table and took a seat opposite me. I nodded in greeting, but somehow felt too afraid to say anything, instead allowing her to do the honors of speaking first. Which, after she ordered her meal, she inevitably did.

"You spoke to Toyosatomimi no Miko this afternoon," she stated monotously.

I nodded again. "She wanted-"

"I know what she wanted; she couldn't have made it any clearer. I just find it a difficult favor to accept. You do realize we spent the better part of a fortnight chasing her down, right? And now she wants us – wants you – to act like nothing happened?"

"What she suggests is reasonable." I shrugged. "I will take any advice I can get. Even if it is from an enemy, which she is not."

"You know, sometimes it amazes me how willing you are to forego a little vigilance for the sake of finding a way to recover your memories. You went to the Nuclear Furnace a few days ago, didn't you?"

"How did you find out about that?"

"Suwako Moriya told Toyosatomimi no Miko about your trip. Apparently Miko didn't think you withheld any secrets from me. I suppose she and I were both wrong about that."

"I'm sorry for hiding it from you, though we all have our secrets. Also, Suwako insisted on my going alone."

"And that in itself didn't make you at least a little wary?"

"Of course it did. But my principle since coming to Gensokyo has always been to take the road less traveled, within reason. It's served me well so far."

"Maybe so. I can't help but have my misgivings, but I can't begrudge you your ideals. Like you say, everything's working out pretty well, all things considered. I'm not totally against lending you my house, but only because I trust you to make the right decisions."

"So, you're going to help us?"

Marisa sighed and tapped the table restlessly. "Let's make something clear here. I'm not helping that hermit. I'm helping you, for your sake. She doesn't get to boss me around, and if I ever want her out, she goes. No questions asked."

"That sounds fair enough, given that it's your place we're borrowing."

"Also, I get to listen in on the lessons and provide my own suggestions. She has her ideas on magic, but I have mine, too. And what the two of us were doing – alongside Reimu – was more than just fine. There's honestly no need for Toyosatomimi no Miko to be here at all. And," Marisa jabbed a finger in my direction, "before you say anything, I'm not being jealous or petty. I just can't find it in myself to trust her right now."

"Yes, I know. You're doing this for me. I understand completely."

"Do you really?" Marisa squinted at me, but decided that the issue was not worth pursuing any further. Her meal arrived, and she dug into it with her usual gusto.

Sometimes it was difficult for me to remember that I had only been here for seven weeks, given that the entirety of my recognizable memories were centered around my time in Gensokyo. Seeing Marisa so easily group the other maidens into the simple categories of friends and enemies made me feel somewhat perturbed, since I only viewed each person that I met as a unique individual from whom I could learn more about this world. Yet I knew that perspective was a privilege granted solely to a neutral observer like myself, who could be distanced from the many conflicts of this world purely because of my status as a recent visitor.

Maybe I was allowing myself to get swept along by my arbitrary sense of adventure, letting the currents of fate take me wherever they might see fit. Or maybe I was just being naïve. In any case, the answers to my many questions would only be revealed to me as long I relentlessly ventured forward into the unknown.

And I intended to continue doing so. Even if there were now people who, at least to my knowledge, only wished for me to keep on living, regardless of whether I was doomed to remain in the dark for the rest of my days.

From what I still knew about the outside world – alongside what I had read from the more modern literature that I could find in the bookstore that I worked at – I surmised that were I living a normal life as a salaryman in Japan, I would perhaps be waking up an hour or so past the crack of dawn every day as I made my way to work, yawning and dragging my feet as I took the train from the station near my abode. Thankfully, the vast majority of the people in the Human Village were from ages past, meaning that although all members of the Village were expected to pull their weight, no one would get fired for coming into work a little late, especially since the types of jobs available at the village were largely limited to such languid workplaces as bookstores, restaurants, inns, and shops offering various miscellany. Thus, everyone got out of bed essentially whenever they wanted to, though given how little there was to do in the Village, people mostly arrived on time anyway. It was a similar situation for everyone, including me: the sun would enter my eyes, I would awaken, and after breakfast I would head to the bookstore. No alarm clocks, no stressing about being late.

So, I was understandably shocked to find the door to my room being on the receiving end of a hard rap when the sky outside was still just barely turning gray. There were no other sources of light in my room, so my eyes took some time to adjust and focus long enough for me to find the doorknob and turn it.

"Yes?" I asked blearily.

"Rise and shine," said the tuft of chestnut hair that abruptly filled my vision.

I blinked as hard as I could. "Toyosatomimi no Miko? Is that you?"

"The one and only. Now, come. Your training begins today."

"It's barely light out," I mumbled.

"Discipline is the foundation of all achievement. I'll be waking you up at this time every day for the next week. Chop chop."

In my grogginess, I could barely taste the breakfast I was eating, so fogged and consumed by fatigue were my senses. Miko watched me as I shoveled the food into my mouth, and the smile she wore told me in no uncertain terms just how much she enjoyed watching me suffer. Or perhaps I was just being too cynical.

"I don't think Marisa will be awake this early," I commented as we departed the Village and entered the Forest. As the meager rays of crimson sunlight filtered through the leaves, I could see clouds of spores floating around the branches, and Marisa's earlier warnings to me about them began to ring alarm bells in my head. "Are those dangerous?" I asked, pointing to the spores.

"Oh, the mushroom spores? They're only dangerous to beings that are unaware of their magical potential. By now, you should be very well-versed in the possibilities of your own magical prowess, so you should be able to control the relatively minor effects of magical overload from inhaling those spores."

"To be honest…" I frowned. "I'm still not really sure about that."

"Why not? We know about your teleportation to places that you've already visited, don't we?"

"Yes, but there's a few other things that I haven't been quite able to pin down. My ability to remember Satori Komeiji's sister, for instance."

"Satori Komeiji… has a sister?"

"She does, it's just that people forget about her once they stop seeing her – except for me, apparently. Also, my incredibly realistic dream about the first moments that I remember since arriving in Gensokyo."

"A dream? About the Scarlet Devil Mansion?"

"Exactly. When Moriya invited me to the Furnace and performed her dissection spell on me, I was apparently sent briefly into the past. Only it wasn't really the past, or I probably wouldn't have been able to return. Patchouli Knowledge would never have allowed me to leave."

Miko raised her eyebrows. "Interesting. Suwako Moriya didn't see fit to inform me about that particular phenomenon."

"I suppose she has bigger fish to fry. Or whatever it is that they're frying down there in the Furnace."

As the cottage came into view, something caught my eye – though in fairness, my ears had picked up the disturbance long before we could actually see where it came from. Two blonde figures were stood outside the entrance of the hut, engaged in heated, if still relatively civil, conversation. The one stood in the doorway was clad in the recognizable black-and-white frills of the witch that I had come to call my closest friend; the other was a maiden I had not seen since the first time I had ventured into this forest on the advice of Reimu.

"Surely you can spare some time to assist me in my endeavors," said Alice Margatroid in as pleading of a manner as her monotonous voice would allow.

"Like I said, I will be busy today," replied Marisa. "Oh, here they are."

"What are we bickering about today?" asked Miko, waving in greeting as we approached.

"Marisa promised to help me test my next doll in combat," Alice said. "She's reneging on that agreement."

"I did say that, but as you can see, circumstances have changed. I can always help you later. You're always free anyway, aren't you?"

"You made me that promise before they intervened," Alice protested. "Shouldn't they be making way?"

"We can always go somewhere else," I suggested. I didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble, especially with regards to this particular maiden, whose relationship with Marisa seemed just about as stable as a rollercoaster at full pelt. Judging by the contents of their discussion, it seemed like they were at the very least not averse to each other's company, but it was hard to tell just how far the rapport between them extended.

"Maybe we can work something out." Miko, ever the negotiator, pursed her lips and looked at each maiden in turn. "What sort of doll have you been making?"

"It's a unique type of doll, one that will supplant some of my existing support dolls. I have called it the Amplifier for now, although I will think of a different name eventually. As the name suggests, its primary function is magical amplification. It draws on my existing magic reserves and allows me to combine those reserves with the supply within my body in order to enhance the magnitude of my spells. Of course, my knowledge of the exact nature of the doll's inner machinations is as yet inchoate, but the only way I will learn more about how exactly the Amplifier operates is through constant testing in skirmishes. Which is why I sought the help of Marisa, who has so rudely rebuffed my advances."

"I… see." Miko nodded sagely as if understanding something that the rest of us did not, though the sweat on her brow suggested that she was not actually all the wiser. "A doll that makes your spells stronger. Very nice. I… oh!"

"What is it?" Alice asked.

"Does the doll work on other people? Or does it only work on yourself?"

"I have not tested this product on other people." Alice appeared slightly downcast. "There are no other people for me to test it on."

"That's just as well," Marisa piped up. "I remember the last time you asked me to help you with one of your experiments. You nearly blew my house up, along with half the forest."

"If you'd assisted me with even the modicum of competence that I expected from a magician of your caliber, then the overload would never have occurred." Alice harrumphed noisily and pushed her wavy hair back, as if she were a child who had just been told off by her mother. "Your indolence will be your undoing."

"Now, now." Miko clapped and stepped between them in the hopes of bringing the two warring factions to a momentary truce. "I think your interests and ours can align. You see, we happen to have someone with us who's in need of a little magical amplification."

The three of them turned to look at me.

"Me?" I asked.

"Who else?" Miko chirped. "We might as well see what you can do with a little extra impetus. Alice gets her experiment, you get your magic. It sounds like a fair deal."

"For once I must agree with you." Alice nodded. "Traveler, you will partake."

"And what if I refuse?"

"You cannot refuse." Alice's eyes turned cold, and I abandoned any notions of resisting further.

With a snap of her fingers, a doll materialized in the air. Although my recollections of what Alice Margatroid's dolls looked like were hazy at best, I could tell from the menacing jade-green aura swirling around this particular prototype that this was to be like nothing I had ever seen before. The doll was clad in a simple purple dress, its blonde hair shimmering in the sheer incandescence of the energy that surrounded it, and it did a dainty little twirl as it fully materialized into the air above us, before settling into its spot beside Alice's shoulder.

"I will now attempt to redirect its suction towards your reserves." Alice closed her eyes and held one arm out towards my chest. Her outstretched hand glowed, and a faint tingling sensation rushed across the surface of my skin. "The redirection is complete. You may attempt to cast a spell now."

"Slight hitch there," interjected Marisa. "He can't really cast any spells right now. We still have no idea what Kanako Yasaka wants with him, and the last thing we want is for him to get sent back into Senkai on his own. So, the one spell he knows is pretty much ruled out."

Alice frowned. "Then what need have I of you?"

"We can try the exercise we were doing last time. Find a spot to sit down, and focus on drawing your magic out. However, try doing it in a different manner so that you don't end up accidentally teleporting away."

"I'll try." I looked around for a relatively soft-looking patch of grass, and took my seat there. Matters were not helped by the awkward thought of having three of the realm's strongest magic users staring at my back. But expectations were high, and I had to deliver.

As I focused my attention inwards, probing through my body for the latent magic that dwelt within me, I also made sure to prevent myself from casting any thoughts about places that I knew intimately. No Youkai Mountain, no Makai, no Senkai. Just a blank slate upon which no images could be painted. Yet the more I tried to forget, the easier it became to remember. I held my breath as I struggled to prevent my thoughts from drifting, as the magic within me had already swelled to an uncontrollable level thanks to the Amplifier simultaneously diverting my magic away from my reserves and towards my mind.

In my haste to discard the many fond contemplations that I carried with me, I unwittingly steered my thoughts towards the one place that I knew I would never in my wildest dreams desire to return to. Yet as my senses began to dull, I had to wonder if a mental picture of the Scarlet Devil Mansion really was the best way through which to evoke a clearer understanding of my abilities.

As I would soon find out, it most certainly was not.

"I see you have woken up," said a horrifyingly familiar voice for the third time that I had heard those words.

I was forced to swallow the gasp that was threatening to burst out of my mouth. I could perhaps feign discomfort for a little while, but in front of a being as shrewd as this, I had to keep my wits about me at all times.

"Make sure you are feeling fully rested before you stand – the nauseatic effects of the magic you were exposed to may still linger," said Patchouli Knowledge. As she made her way over to the bed, my mind raced with a million questions that I knew I could never have her answer. Not if I wanted to depart here alive.

Why was I here again? Was it my own magic that had sent me here? But if it were the same teleportation spell that I had always used, surely I would not be sent into the past as well, would I? Yet if this were an entirely different magic, what was its true nature? Was it time travel? Or was it something else?

I had no time to quell the doubts that swelled within me. I had to speak soon, or Patchouli would grow suspicious. And once suspicion took hold of one's mind, it only relinquished its grasp if it were alleviated by absolute certainty – something that I would never be able to offer Patchouli unless I was sent back to sleep, just as I was the last time. If that happened again, who knew if I would be allowed to wake from that sleep?

"Miss Knowledge… What happened to me?" I asked.

"You were exposed to the magic of one of the more potent tomes in my collection. It was a guide to youkai magic, which normally is not compatible with the human mind…" She placed a finger to my forehead and closed her eyes, as if trying to discern what lay beneath my skull. "Yet you seem to have assimilated it into your system. Intriguing. It's a rare talent that you possess, but one that must nonetheless be nurtured. Who knows where it'll lead you?"

"So, you're saying that I'm no longer a magical being?"

"In a fashion. But magic is of no use if it cannot be unlocked. Perhaps with the requisite training, you'll be able to find out just what it is that you can do."

"You seem to be intimating that you'd like to train me," I noted.

"That depends on your own wishes. I am granting you the opportunity to come under my tutelage. It is your choice."

If my past two experiences here were anything to go by, the most logical step for me would be to accept the offer. The first time, I had left the Mansion and had never been able to return; the second time, I had revealed myself, and my time here was abruptly and ignominiously cut short. Yet I knew that had to put on a small show of reluctance so as to prevent Patchouli from wondering why I was so eager to place my time in her hands, but not appear so hesitant that Patchouli decided I might be better off exploring Gensokyo on my own anyway.

"What sorts of things would I do if I stayed here?" I asked tentatively.

"I must admit, we have not had any beings in need of training here for some time. It has been so long…" Patchouli drew a breath and exhaled deeply, as if overwhelmed by a sudden rush of nostalgia. "I suppose we would start with the basics. I would give you more tomes to read, spells to attempt, anything to draw out the potential within you. Then, once the essential form of your magic is established, we would go from there. For now, however, we must improvise to the best of our ability."

"It is a tempting offer, though I am of half a mind to explore the rest of Gensokyo. Something seems to be directing me to look outwards, as if I were sent here with some kind of mission, but I cannot explain what it is."

"It may be that your past life is still echoing within the recesses of your unconscious self," Patchouli suggested. "For now, I think your best option would be to stay with me. There are dangerous beasts, demons of every kind lurking without. You will be safe from them in this mansion."

"I… understand." I rose to my feet, somewhat gingerly as the feeling had not entirely returned to my limbs. "It seems like a good idea, but for now I would like to rest, if possible."

"Yes, of course." Patchouli opened the door and gestured for me to walk through. "I'll show you to your quarters. We have a room prepared for you."

I tried to take as much stock of my surroundings as I could as we traversed through the corridors, burning the sight of every nook and cranny into my eyes. The Scarlet Devil Mansion was not as hellish of a place as I remembered, and certainly did not appear as dangerous as the other maidens made it out to be. But, as with most magical things, the danger lay not in what could be seen, but what could not. The floor was smothered by a swathe of red carpet, plumes of aether and dust washing over our boots as we walked; the windows were crystalline and occasionally stained with color, but pocked with enough dents and impurities that it was impossible to get more than a rough view of what the outside looked like. The patterns painted on the windows were abstract and unfocused, but once in a while it was possible to make out the silhouette of a bat's wing, or even the shape of a small girl.

The walls were sparsely ornamented, but the odd painting here and there prevented the gray wallpaper from appearing completely bland, though the splashes of color from the stained glass did sometimes lend a hand by stretching all the way across the floor and onto the walls. One particular painting drew my attention more than any of the others: a portrait of a girl with red eyes and blonde hair, whose back had sprouted a pair of twisted, needle-like wings. From those wings hung a row of crystals separated at regular intervals, each crystal glowing a different color.

"We do not speak much of this individual," Patchouli said, noticing my curiosity regarding the picture's subject. "She is… an open secret. Yes, that's how I'd put it."

"Did something happen to her?" I asked.

"Nothing dramatic. She remains locked in the basement for now."

"She must be quite dangerous, if you're keeping her incarcerated."

"I personally find her quite agreeable. She is Remilia Scarlet's sister, after all."

"She is?"

"You've met Remilia Scarlet, haven't you? Wait, no, you haven't."

Had I? "I don't think…"

"You haven't," Patchouli repeated, and the matter seemed to be closed. "Though I will introduce you to her, when we have the time."

Another few twists and turns later, and we were in front of a large pair of red wooden doors, decorated with intricate carvings and gossamer lines of silver trim. Patchouli pushed them open with a flourish, and what I saw behind them took my breath away.

The Library. Shelves stacked full to the brim with ancient books and dog-eared tomes, reaching into the sky, towering over us as we walked into the center. Centuries of painstaking writing on well-worn pages, packed into neat rows for ease of access by the fortunate few who were allowed here. A recess set in the middle of the great chamber, a vantage point from which all the books in the Library's collection could ostensibly be seen. Cranes stretching down from an unseen ceiling, a vertical horizon obscured by the illumination streaming in from the round skylight installed into the roof.

The beam of light that shone down towards us, refracted by the ethereal energies at work within the Library, seemed to elevate my senses and, for a brief moment, my whole body as well.

"Hypnotic, isn't it?" Patchouli gazed into the circle of light. "It is often said that libraries are wells of knowledge, and the cylindrical structure of this place is a reflection of that idea. In a world where swords and shields are made redundant by the advent of magic, it is with the contents of these books that we do battle. You shall be arming yourself in the coming days with the weapons that best suit you."

"That's good to know," I replied. What Patchouli had just said resounded with me, though not necessarily in a positive way. I was quickly reminded with the story of the frog in the bottom of the well: a cautionary tale for those who might think themselves to be knowledgeable about the state of the world, but whose hubris blinded them from the truth of the endless sea of untapped potential that lay beyond the confines of their myopic vision, if only they might seek to be more than they currently were.

It was the reason I always maintained an open mind with regards to my travels, especially in a realm that was growing increasingly familiar, but whose true scale still remained hidden from me. Yet I was now forced to contend with the fact that I was here, in the home of the enemy, with no way to save myself should I be set upon by the Mansion's more bloodthirsty inhabitants. The frog might trap itself in the well, but at the very least it was safe from the dangers that lay outside.

Curiosity did kill the cat, after all.

It had been six hours since I had returned to the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

Or was it seven? Or five? In truth, I could no longer tell.

Time seemed to move at its own pace within the confines of this place, which served as the home of one of Gensokyo's more mysterious personalities – quite a remark to make, considering how strange and literally out-of-this-world everything and everyone else already was. Occasionally, as I stared at the barrage of water lashing against the window, I could swear as if the rain were speeding up and slowing down of its own accord, though I did not know if this was merely the intensity of the torrent increasing and decreasing, or if the whole mansion were spluttering during its journey through the roads of time.

Ultimately, I gave up any pretense of sleep, and I decided to wander around the Mansion. I had been allowed – read "forced" – to stay and rest in the room Patchouli had allotted to me, so I might be more refreshed and ready for my training come the morning. Patchouli evidently still thought I was enervated from the effects of the tome, so to be out and about when I was supposed to be sleeping would have been unwise. It was only now, in the deepest reaches of night, that I could reasonably claim to be rested and awake for the challenges ahead.

Dinner had been graciously offered to me earlier in the evening, a lukewarm plate of fish and mixed vegetables accompanied by a stick of stale bread, but the more I ate, the hungrier I seemed to get. The tea did not wash the food down well, either – it was unbearably bitter, left a stinging sensation in the throat, and was not hot enough to mask its abhorrent taste. With every passing moment I increasingly felt that I was being treated not as a guest, but as an inmate.

My stomach rumbling audibly in my ears, I set off down the murky corridor and towards the gloom. I left my boots in the room, as they clattered loudly against the floorboards whilst I walked, but the feeling of icy cold wood against the soles of my feet caused them to cramp after a few minutes. I stood awkwardly in the middle of nowhere, eyes wide shut, nursing my aching muscles.

It was difficult to find my bearings, but I had taken enough note of the layout of the corridors I had walked through to know that I was headed in the direction of the Library. From there I would attempt to discern what was happening to me – that is, if I had the leeway to do so at all.

I had attempted to use my teleportation magic to leave the Mansion, but to no avail. This suggested several possibilities. My first idea was that the Scarlet Devil Mansion was surrounded by a barrier which prevented movement in and out of the area without Remilia Scarlet's consent, which was an unlikely proposition given that very few beings had the ability to teleport at all.

Alternatively, perhaps I was no longer able to use my magic in this realm. I could feel the magic welling up within me as I tried to escape, so I knew that I had not been drained of my source of power. I had tried the spell out by teleporting across my bedroom, so I knew my magic was in perfect working order.

Hence, I was left with one, single glaring realization.

I could not leave, because I had never been outside. I had nowhere to return to. As far as my mind was concerned, within Gensokyo, I had only ever been in the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

Yet my memories of the places in Gensokyo that I had visited in the past weeks remained. My images of the people I had met were still there. As I thought of Reimu, Marisa, Miko – and even Alice Margatroid – standing in the tall grass of the Forest, awaiting my return, I could not help but feel a pang of sadness.

I missed them. And I knew they missed me. Well, perhaps Alice didn't, but three out of four of the realm's best and bravest was more than a human of my meager magical ability deserved.

So, where was I, really? If this was the Gensokyo that I knew and came to love, why did my magic no longer recognize its existence?

My outstretched hands brushed against a corner in the wall. I had arrived at the Library.

Easing the doors open as quietly as I could, I peeked through the gap. The skylight had no light to allow through, as the moon was clouded by the whims of the storm battering down upon the roof, though I was surprised to find the carpet still dry and untouched by the rain. I was even more surprised to find that I could see anything at all – a lantern burned on one of the desks near the center of the Library, but no one appeared to be utilizing its illumination.

I slipped through the opening and gripped the doorknob on the other side so as to allow the door to close as slowly as possible. Once the door was safely shut, I darted behind one of the bookshelves, looking around to check if I was as alone as I thought I was. Satisfied that there were no other presences nearby, I made a beeline for my ultimate target: the fateful place where I had first read the tome that would shape my future in Gensokyo.

By now, any last vestiges of clarity regarding its precise location had deserted my head, but I still remembered enough about how it looked to know if I was in the right place. And sure enough, as the entrance to the next floor down loomed, its cobwebbed stairs and decrepit stone arch sparked recollections from areas of my mind that I had previously thought unoccupied. It felt nostalgic yet simultaneously alien, as if my buried memories were banging against the doors of their cells, begging for release.

I tiptoed down the stairs and poked my head around the corner. Thankfully, there were torches standing vigil on this level, which meant I would not trip over some unseen uneven spot on the stone floor. And there were many such spots, considering the sheer age and unrefined make of the architecture of this place.

Yet just as I placed my foot off the last step and onto the actual floor, the world began to spin, and my knees became rubbery. I leaned against the wall for support, but even my arms were losing what little strength remained.

A boulder sank in my chest. Not again, I thought. Not like this. Not when I'd come so far.

But, as I soon learned, it seemed that magic had the power to effect change through willpower, even if its supernatural facets were not necessarily applied. For just as I was about to fall into a crumpled heap on the floor, something caught me and pressed a metallic object to my lips. A stream of harsh, gritty liquid sailed down my throat, yet as I coughed and retched to expel it, I found myself standing on my own two feet again, my vitality fully restored.

My eyes eventually focused on my savior, a red-headed adolescent girl with two cute bat's wings sprouting from her head, twitching as she pressed her hands together nervously. A bigger, well-developed version of those wings grew from her back, though I failed to notice them until the haziness had lifted from my vision. Her round irises, brimming with crimson curiosity, leapt up and down whilst she scrutinized me.

"Who are you?" I finally asked.

"Uh…" The girl's mouth opened and closed like a fish's, as if she were unsure whether to divulge any information to me, an intruder around these parts.

As far as I knew, I had never seen her before. Yet my intuitions told me that she would not have helped me if that truly were the case.

"We've met before, haven't we?" I said.

The girl nodded vigorously.

"That's right." A name suddenly formed on my lips, though it could go no farther than the tip of my tongue. "You're Koa… Koa…"

The girl gazed intensely at me, as if willing me to finish.

"Koa… ko?"

Both sets of wings drooped in disappointment. The girl turned away, muttering to herself.

"I'm sorry." I placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her body jump beneath my palm. "I know we've met before, but I'm quite severely affected by an amnesiac right now. This might be asking a lot, but… Could you help me with something?"

The girl peered back at me, fluttering her long eyelashes. She gave a small nod.

"I know what you seek," she whispered. Her voice was soft yet raspy, as if rusty from disuse. "I will take you to it."

My thoughts were in a jumble as we made our way down the corridor. Perhaps it was due to the labyrinthine nature of the hallways on this floor, an intricate network of corners, doors, and shelves whose age seemed to predate even Gensokyo itself – occasionally I could see relics from eras so far in the distant past that they seemed beyond even the grasp of recorded history. Perhaps it was the primordial magic that thickened the air, turning it to treacle, forming lumps on my throat that threatened to suffocate me.

Or perhaps it was the mesmerizing sight of the wiry black tail swishing back and forth, its heart-shaped tip curled into itself as the girl leading the way navigated the maze with practiced ease.

The devil had no name, but it seemed that she was known as Koakuma – which in itself meant "little devil" – to those who inhabited this mansion. That epithet was not coaxed out of her without much difficulty, as her lips were sealed tighter than the secrets of the Library. Yet it seemed that she at least trusted me enough to disclose that much, though I still had yet to remember how exactly I knew her.

I had met her here, in my first and original visit to the Mansion. That much I knew. But I did not know any more, and she would not oblige my desire to remember.

I could not tell if the combination of circumstances was addling my mind, but the more the tail swished and flicked in front of me, the more I felt the urge to grab it. I wondered what its thin, shiny surface would feel like under my fingers. It was easy for me to take the humans – or human-bodied maidens – of Gensokyo for granted, given that I had spent all my life around them even if I did not always remember doing so. However, I did not feel as uncomfortable with the more supernatural and fantastical elements of this world as I thought I would.

"We are here," she whispered.

At this point, the repressed recollections were scratching at my skull, yet I could still find no way of letting them through. The unbearable familiarity of the shelf before me was testament to the strengths of both the spell cast upon my mind, and the memories that it had submerged within my unconsciousness. Koakuma took a tome from one of the shelves and handed it to me.

"This is the one," she murmured.

"The one?" I stared at the front of the book. It was lined with smooth gold leaf, yet the creases on the leather binding underneath had etched themselves onto the surface, and some of the gold had been worn away by the many fingers that had brushed against the cover over the centuries of its existence.

I knew this book. I had read it once.

The memories returned, inundating my thoughts, crashing against the back of my head like a tsunami. I staggered, letting the tome fall from my grasp, placing one hand on my head and another against the wall. Koakuma leapt to my aid, holding my shoulder, but I could not summon the will even to stand.

This shelf, and its books. The Library, and its guardian. The Mansion, and its master.

A pair of red eyes, glimmering with a level of malice that no human could bear.

Yet just as the wave of images and sounds gushed into the canals running through my brain, their source was abruptly halted, leaving me grasping at what remained. I had met Remilia Scarlet, but I still could not remember what we had talked about, or what had happened next. My full recollections began at the Library; they refused to reach any further into the past. The spell had not been broken.

I was disappointed, but also hopeful. Perhaps the more I found out about this Mansion, the more memories I could unlock. That was all the motivation I needed for now, and I straightened myself back up, to Koakuma's obvious relief.

"Did you remember something?" she asked. She might have a meek personality, but she was evidently more observant than she let on.

I nodded. "I remembered you."

She blushed faintly and smiled.

"This book," I said, gesturing at the tome. "What does it contain?"

"Perhaps you would like to hear the answer from a more authoritative source."

The two of us jumped. Behind us had materialized a robed figure, whose true form remained shrouded in the dark, just beyond the feeble torchlight. Nevertheless, I could see that the hem of their dress was mauve, and I knew immediately who had spoken.

"I see you've rested well, traveler," said the host of the great Library, in a measured tone that suggested her statement was to be interpreted rhetorically. "What brings you down here at this time of night?"

"I had my fill of sleep, so I decided to take a walk." A frail excuse, but it would have to do for now. "What about yourself?"

Patchouli curled her thin lips into a smile. "I do not subsist on sleep. Knowledge is my bread; history is my wine. And I could do much worse than keep myself awake to find if any little rats have scurried into the pantry, lest they steal the food that is rightfully mine."

The jig was probably up, though I refused to give up hope. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what's in that book?" I asked.

Patchouli shrugged. "It depends on what you already know. Or rather, whether you already know."

"I only know as much as you've told me about this world. I hope you will forgive my inquisitiveness."

"Oh, no. It's not you I'm angry at." Her expression hardened as she glared at the girl cowering behind me, her wiry tail wrapped around my leg. "Return to your chambers. I will discipline you later."

Koakuma relinquished her grasp on my back, and shuffled away into the shadows, long gone before I could turn to see her reaction.

"Now, I cannot allow you to have that book, though I suppose residual memories are not out of the ordinary." Patchouli puckered her lips, deep in thought. Perhaps she was reconsidering whether to have me sent back to sleep against my will. She sighed, and it seemed that her decision was made. "It is regrettable, but I suppose Gensokyo will have to make do without its chronicler."

'Chronicler'? By that, did she mean… me?

I had no time to ponder the meaning of that epithet. She flicked her wrist, and the same scent of lavender I had smelt before tingled my nostrils. This time, however, I did not feel the same panic as I had done previously. For now that I knew I had a reliable way of coming back, I would be able to do so again and again, making my way through every avenue, repeating the process until I had the answers that I sought. It would not be easy, but just the fact that I had obtained even the tiniest modicum of knowledge in this latest iteration gave me all the motivation that I needed.

I readily accepted my slip into unconsciousness, knowing that I would wake up and find Marisa, Reimu, Miko and Alice awaiting my return. And sure enough, I found their worried faces inching closer and closer to mine as I opened my eyes, startling them and causing them to jump backwards in unison.

I was lying on the grass, with the four of them standing around my collapsed form. The midday breeze was soothing as it drifted across my face, especially when compared to the damp environs of the Library, but this was hardly the time to be enjoying it. I sat up, easing my aching head in my hand.

"Traveler? What happened?" asked Reimu.

"A lot happened," I replied. "It's… difficult to explain."

"We have the time." Miko helped me to my feet. "Although I may hazard a guess. Was it another dream about the Scarlet Devil Mansion?"

"'Another' dream?" Reimu raised her eyebrows. "You do have a lot of explaining to do, traveler. I will not countenance you hiding such things from me."

"Don't worry, I have no intention of hiding anything. In fact…" A question materialized in my head. "I may need your help with something. Do you know what a 'chronicler' is?"

The four witches stared at each other blankly.

"A 'chronicler'?" Marisa asked. "What's that?"

"I don't know either, but Patchouli Knowledge used that term to refer to me. I just thought one of you might know what that meant, or why she would call me that."

"Perhaps it is merely what it says on the tin," Miko suggested. "A chronicler is one who chronicles. You carry a diary with you at all times, do you not?"

I nodded, patting the jacket pocket where my trusted notebook lay. "I have it with me now. Though I don't really see why that makes me special in any way – I'm sure most intruders from the outside world would be keen to write down what they observed if they were as well-traveled around these parts as I have been. Hardly something noteworthy enough for an epithet."

"I cannot let slip the feeling that Patchouli may have revealed something to you that she did not intend to reveal," Reimu noted. "If that indeed proves to be the case, then whatever a 'chronicler' is may be vitally important to discovering why the Scarlet Devil Mansion went to such lengths to ensure that you emerged from there as blank a slate as possible. But that is only a hypothesis - unfortunately, powerful as we may be, we are not all-knowing."

"That's a good idea," Marisa said. "It definitely seems like something important. Maybe you'll have to go back to figure out why."

"I think that is enough near-death experiences for the day." Reimu frowned. "Traveler, I would ask that you refrain from returning to the Mansion until we have exhausted all other options in attempting to discern the meaning of that phrase."

"But what other options do we have?" I asked. "We don't know anyone who has been to the Mansion regularly – at least, anyone that we can talk to without having to fight them beforehand."

"We do know someone who's seen the inside of the Mansion, though. Alongside everything else you would care to know about Gensokyo." Reimu turned to Miko. "I think we should put training on hold for today, if you would not mind."

Miko gave an uneasy half-smile, clearly reluctant to have her fun ended before the party had even started. "If you say so. I suppose this is more important, isn't it?"

"It's important to the traveler," Marisa said, though for some reason she also appeared unusually unenthusiastic. "We should not hold him back from learning the truth about himself. Anyway, where are we headed?"

"To the foremost historian in the realm. If ever the name 'chronicler' applied to someone, it would be her."

And so, one swift broom-ride later, we found ourselves around the edges of the Human Village, where only the most confident or nonchalant – or both – of humans made their home. Making one's abode in such close proximity to the boundaries of the Forest youkai's vigil might normally be considered nothing short of suicidal, but those that lived here had good reason to be assured of their personal safety. The source of that assurance lay within a rickety wooden hut sandwiched between two stone houses, a structure that at first glance appeared to be little more than an aberration in the otherwise monotonous façade of walls and sliding doors. However, the great plaque hanging above the doorway, where the word "School" was scrawled in a haphazard fashion, seemed to suggest that there was more to this place than first met the eye – not that the interior, which appeared as dilapidated as the exterior, gave any hint as to why that might be.

Inside, five rows of tables and chairs were neatly arranged in front of a podium. Though the place could comfortably fit at least fifty people, only about a dozen were present. As we entered, my eyes were immediately drawn to the figure stood at the front of what was evidently some sort of classroom. The figure noticed us, and waved quickly, before putting a finger to her lips and motioning for us to sit around the back.

The next thirty minutes were spent in something of a daze – though Keine Kamishirasawa was certainly knowledgeable about Gensokyo's affairs, the difference between a good historian and a good teacher was patently laid bare. As the tired students filed out of the classroom at the end of the lesson, Keine made her way over to us.

"It is good to see the five of you again," she said. We nodded in greeting, though I was surprised to see Alice Margatroid, whom I assumed would have had better things to do with her time, nodding along with us as she sat beside Marisa. "What can I do for you today?"

"We have a question about the traveler's past which we hoped you might be able to answer," Marisa replied.

"I am not as omniscient in my human form as I am in my hakutaku form, but I will do my best." Keine pulled a chair beside her and took a seat. "What would that question be?"

"It's quite simple, actually," I said. "Do you know what a 'chronicler' is?"

Keine puffed her cheeks out and tilted her head, as if not quite understanding the question. "A 'chronicler'?"

I quickly recounted the events that had occurred in the Scarlet Devil Mansion. "Whatever a 'chronicler' is, it seems to pertain to my identity," I added.

"I would have come to the same conclusion," Keine said. She leaned back into her chair and gazed at the ceiling, as though looking to the sky for answers. "Unfortunately, the meaning of that word evades me for now. Perhaps I would be able to better serve you on the night of the full moon, when my powers are at their peak. In my alternate guise, I see all of the threads of time running through Gensokyo's past."

"The full moon's in two weeks," Marisa commented. "We may have to wait until then."

"Then I might have to ask you to be patient and wait until then," Keine said apologetically. "Maybe there are other means by which you might come to the truth of the matter, though I cannot on good conscience advise you to return to the Mansion. Having heard your tale, I suspect there may be more to your 'dreams' than you think."

"How so?" I asked.

"It is well-established, at least amongst those who can perceive the webs of time as I do, that dreams are very much windows into alternative timelines. When you dream, you are granted a brief peek into a different reality, a different iteration of the same world which you inhabit. Whatever happens to you in a dream is actually happening to you in a timeline that is not your own."

"So, when I dream of something, the person experiencing that dream is still 'me', but a 'me' in a different timeline?"

"Precisely." Keine paused. "But from what you have told me, it seems that you are doing more than just observing a different reality. You are actively able to affect whatever is happening, in a way that people who are dreaming cannot. You are no longer a mere traveler; you have control. The world around you changes in response to your actions. That is why it seems to be more than just a dream to me. And, in a way, knowing of your abilities, it does not surprise me at all that you can do that."

"Why?"

"When you teleport, you are moving between different strands of space. Now, it seems like you can perform a similar trick with time. Space and time are inextricably linked – where one goes, the other follows. Mastery over one may lead to mastery over another."

"Question."

We turned to look at Alice, who had raised her hand.

"Yes, Alice?" Keine said.

"Does that mean that Sakuya Izayoi can do the same?"

"You know…" Keine pursed her lips. "That is a good question. Unfortunately, I do not quite know enough about her to tell you."

"I thought you would know," Alice stated with a hint of disappointment.

"We do not know what we do not know," Keine replied bluntly. "Again, I would ask you to wait out the fortnight, and see if the full moon brings any answers."

"Then we shall not trouble you any further." Reimu rose from her seat, and beckoned for us to do the same. "Thank you for your time."

"You are always welcome. Feel free to drop by anytime." Keine escorted us out of the door, and we returned to the midday sun.

Alice bade us farewell as she returned to her place in the Forest, leaving us to decide on lunch for ourselves. As we walked towards the center of the Village, rapidly drawing the attention of the shopkeepers who happened to glance outside, an uneasy feeling began to grow in my heart. It wasn't that what Keine had said didn't sit well with me – far from it. Everything she had told us made sense, and I had no reason not to trust her. And yet…

"Something wrong?" Marisa, unexpectedly sagacious as ever, noticed my troubled expression and poked her head in front of mine.

"Not much. Just chewing over what Keine just said. Mastery over time and space… that sounds great in theory, but it seems my 'mastery' is still quite limited."

"That is because the capacity of your magic remains at a relatively human level," Miko explained. "With the proper training, you will be able to expand on what you can already do, and stretch it to a limit far beyond your current capabilities."

"I'm sure your tutelage will prove to be immensely effective," I said, and Miko beamed. "Though… that's not really what's bugging me right now."

"Is something else wrong?" Reimu queried.

"Remember the last time I asked Keine a question she couldn't answer?" I continued. "When we first met Keine, and I asked her what she knew about the traversal between the outside world and Gensokyo. And she left in a huff, because-"

"Because she didn't know the answer," Marisa finished. "I get what you mean. She didn't do that this time, sure. But I wouldn't read too much into it."

"It sounds like a stupid thing to get hung up about, but I just couldn't help but remember."

"I think we're all a little prone to reading deeply into things right now," Miko chirped, pulling her lips into a half-hearted grin. "The extent of your abilities is a great unknown, after all. Something that is beyond even our reach. I am surprised that you can remain so calm, even though your time here has been nothing but an endless stream of life-changing surprises. Such a sequence of events would be enough to drive most men mad. But then again, you are not most men – that much is clear to me now."

"I can't help myself." I smiled. "I am a 'chronicler', after all."

Every day for the next fourteen days, I was woken up at the unholiest of hours by a sharp rap at the door, which grew more impatient the longer I waited to scramble out of bed and answer the call. Toyosatomimi no Miko would never enter the room herself – instead, she would knock with increasing ferocity until my concerns were no longer over my own annoyance, but my neighbors'.

Training invariably began with meditation in the dewy surrounds of the Forest, never out of earshot of the Human Village, so we would be able to hear when the first restaurants were being opened. After a simple breakfast of rice porridge and biscuits, we would go to the Myouren Temple, where Byakuren, though not assisting us in person, had very kindly allowed us to use her library. As travel to and from Senkai was now at best a hazardous venture, Miko opted to make use of the Taoist scrolls Byakuren retained for research purposes, of which there were surprisingly many.

Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. Or so the saying goes.

The rest of the day would be spent indulging in script reading and scroll transcription, amongst other less than remarkable activities. A large portion of it was mundane, menial work, little more than disciplinary toil intended to dull the mind and send one into something of a trance, thus allowing them to "fly with the wind", as Miko described it. Some of what I read, however, was relevant to my understanding of my abilities and of magic as a whole, and I secretly stashed that knowledge away, hoping to make use of it in the future.

One particular scroll described the ultimate goal of all those who followed the Tao, or the "way": to become immortal in every sense of the word, a weightless soul floating in the vast nothingness of the dimension between dimensions. Indeed, a soul that had reached Tao would have the capability to flit through space and time without effort, seeing everything that had ever occurred and would ever occur, as if reading a book of histories and timelines. I wondered if I, too, might be able to reach such a state, given the manner in which my magical abilities operated – assuming I had the patience and longevity to devote myself to what was clearly a decades- or even centuries-long endeavor.

"Do you do this every day?" I asked Toyosatomimi no Miko one morning as we were packing the dog-eared scrolls back into their shelves.

"Do what?"

"All… this. Meditation. Script reading. It's great for the mind, perhaps, but maybe not so much for the development of actual magic."

"But what is magic, if not the will of the mind made manifest?" Miko twirled her finger. "Strong magic requires a strong mind. Have you ever watched Reimu Hakurei fight?"

"I have. Only a couple of times, though."

"She is one of the strongest magicians in the realm, yet most of her days are spent sweeping the Hakurei Shrine's front entrance, making tea, and keeping the Shrine in as immaculate a condition as its age will allow. Once in a while she ventures out to hunt youkai, but that is the extent of her magical expenditure. She attends to her duties every day without fail, and thusly is her willpower sharpened on the whetstone of diligence."

"Isn't that just because she has a natural talent or affinity for magic?"

"Perhaps so. But talent is not in itself magical – it does not create something out of nothing. Talent is a container, and that container must still be filled by effort, work, and sacrifice. Reimu may have a bigger container than most, but an empty container is an empty container, no matter how large its capacity. She has spent years upon years filling it with high-quality material, and the end product is equally pristine."

I nodded. "I see. That makes a lot of sense. Though that does make me wonder about Marisa."

"What about her?"

"By her own admission, she doesn't really discipline herself. She's very much a free spirit. Her and Reimu complement each other in that regard, but it doesn't seem like such behavior would be conducive to magical prowess."

"Well…" Miko let out a breath. "I suppose that's the impression she'd like to give off."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It may not seem like it, but Marisa is a fervent student of magic – one of the most dedicated people I've ever seen in that regard. If you're wondering if anyone can make it to the highest echelons of power without adopting some form of ascetic regimen, then you should look to her. Marisa is the paragon of such an approach."

"Really? That's… surprising."

"Beneath that rowdy and carefree exterior is a determined soul and a keen mind. Reimu converts her passion into sheer discipline; Marisa simply indulges her insatiable hunger and lets fly. Both approaches are equally valid, and in a way their respective methodologies are reflected in the type of magic they wield. Maybe you should ask her, if you are so interested in knowing," she added, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

And so that night, as Marisa joined me for dinner in the tavern, I relayed Miko's thoughts to her. She sat in silence for a moment, before leaning back into her chair and snorting loudly.

"It's not as dramatic as Miko makes it sound," she said. "I love magic. It's like having the world's biggest treasure chest inside your mind, and you can go in at any time and pick out whatever you want. Plus, it's useful, too. Not just for me, but for everyone else as well." She noticed my expression softening, and sat back upright. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that you seem a lot more relaxed now. You've been pretty on edge the past few days."

"Have I?" She rested her head in her hands and glanced lazily at me. "I wonder why. Maybe it's because my favorite pupil – my former pupil, rather – is now in the none-too-safe hands of another teacher, who I still don't fully trust."

"Even after everything we've been through?"

"Especially after everything we've been through." Her eyebrows crinkled slightly. "She hasn't been teaching you any actual magic, has she?"

I shook my head. "It's mainly just been mind training and a lot of reading. She wants me to be able to handle stronger magic, so she's putting me through the motions."

"Honestly, I can't see why all that is necessary. But I guess if it works, it works. She's no slouch herself."

"Just think of it as a trial period. A couple weeks with her, a couple weeks with you. Maybe we'll get Reimu and Byakuren to help me out, too."

"Wouldn't that be something. The four best magic users in all of Gensokyo, tutoring a lowly human traveler."

We polished off our dinners and returned to my room to get away from the noise. There was no need for a candle tonight – the moon, three-quarters of the way on its journey to fullness, poured a steady stream of blue light across the floorboards, for once unopposed by the blanket of clouds that usually obscured its glow.

"The full moon's in a week," I noted as I stared out at the streets. The Village at night was nowhere near as packed as the metropolitan bustle of the lands beyond the Barrier, but a gathering of hundreds of people could still be lively if it needed to be. It was easier to get to know people if there were less people to begin with, especially considering the only humans that lived outside the Village were lunatics or powerful magicians – not that the two were mutually exclusive. Shopkeepers stood outside their stores, chatting to their neighbors, some sitting side by side and sharing their food.

Heartwarming, to be sure. Something that would probably never happen in the cold world that I once inhabited, a world full of strangers instead of friends.

"You think Keine will be able to tell you what you want to know?" Marisa asked quietly.

"I hope so. If anything, it might tell me something about why I came here – that is, if there was a reason at all."

"Why do you want to know about your past so much?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly, I could probably go my whole life not knowing, and simply spend the rest of my days here in peace. But it's in my nature to want to know. Now that I've been given a hint, I can't just let it go like that. I have to chase the thread down, wherever it may lead."

"Yes, of course." I heard a rustling noise as Marisa eased herself onto my bed. "I would expect nothing less. I just… can't shake the feeling that I wouldn't like the answer if I heard it."

"You mean about what it means to be a 'chronicler'?"

"Not just that," Marisa muttered. "About your past. About everything, really. Remember the last time I was up here?"

"I do. Like I said back then, it's possible – likely, even – that I'd still want to stay here." I remembered the morose look in her eyes as she turned away, the unexpected guilt I felt at subjecting her to the specter of a lost friend. I had failed to notice just how attracted I had grown to their company – but even more than that, I had failed to notice how strongly those feelings were reciprocated.

Marisa was perhaps the only maiden who was willing to be so straightforward about such emotional vulnerabilities. How did Reimu, or even Byakuren and Miko, really feel about me? Would it even be prudent for me to ask?

"You know, Reimu might not seem it, but she wants you to stick around as much as I do," Marisa said, as if reading my thoughts. "Call it boredom, call it fascination with the outside world. Call it friendship, even. But you're more than just a mere object of curiosity to us. At the very least, you're our friend. And seeing you so desperate to dig up your past, in the hopes that you might find some reason to leave… It hurts, even if we don't readily admit it."

She chuckled and cleared her throat. "Of course, it's not our place to tell you not to go. That's a choice only you can make."

I turned to face her. She wore an unusually serene smile as she sat next to my pillow, made ever the more elegant by the moonlight's gentle caresses. But the absence of the usual twinkle in her eyes, and the way her expression seemed to fall away as I scrutinized her youthful features, told me that hers was not a look of acceptance, but of resignation.

Seeing her in such an apparently helpless state – her thin shoulders curled, her hands clasped in silence – my body moved on instinct, my mind bidding it do the first thing that came to my head.

My legs moved over to her, stopping as my feet touched hers. My arms pulled themselves forwards, and wrapped Marisa in a loose embrace.

For an agonizing moment, there was nothing but silence ringing in my ears.

Then, I felt a pair of hands creep onto my back. Marisa rested her head on my chest, letting her hat fall onto the bed, and from there I knew she could hear my heart pounding as heavily as it had ever done.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," I murmured.

Marisa shook her head and looked up at me, her eyes round with surprise, yet also sparkling slightly. "Don't be sorry. Like I said, it's up to you. I don't want you to feel like I'm getting in the way."

"Far from it. I've always appreciated your opinions, and your company. Right now, leaving is the last thing I feel like doing."

I do not know how long we stayed in that position, but it felt like an eternity at the time. Seconds stretched into minutes. At long last, I put my hands on Marisa's shoulders, and extricated myself from her grasp.

Her golden locks shimmered like gossamer threads. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy red. Her lips were parted, revealing a breathless gasp.

"I think it's time we went to sleep," I said quickly as I looked away.

"I agree. It's late." Marisa stood, returned her hat to its rightful place, and departed from my room without another word.

A sudden exhaustion overcame me, and I collapsed onto the bed, willing slumber to still my racing thoughts.

Chapter Text

Finally, the day of the full moon was upon us.

We had been told by Keine Kamishirasawa to meet her in the Forest. As a were-hakutaku, she would automatically assume her youkai form once exposed to the full force of the Moon's light, so suffice to say it would more than startle the Village's inhabitants if she were to grow massive horns on her head in the middle of a conversation. So, whenever the full moon rolled around, she would spend the night in the Forest, wandering about the woods, waiting for the night to fade into dawn once again.

I had made sure to take a nap in the afternoon – Toyosatomimi no Miko was kind enough to allow me to take the rest of the day off – and so when I was awoken by a hard knock on the door, I was relatively refreshed. I opened the door to find Reimu standing there, Marisa and Miko in tow.

My eyes met Marisa's, and she quickly turned away.

"It is about time we made our way to the Forest," Reimu said.

I nodded in agreement. "Let's go."

As we exited the tavern, instead of making our usual left turn towards the Forest of Magic, Reimu turned to the right.

"Where are we going?" I asked. "I thought we were going to the Forest."

"We are," Reimu replied. "There are two forests surrounding this village. Did you not know that?"

"I… did not. I always assumed they were part of the same forest."

"The one Marisa and Alice inhabit is called the Forest of Magic, so named because of the high concentration of magic borne by the spores of the mushrooms that grow there. The other one, which we are going to now, is called the Bamboo Forest because, well, it is mainly comprised of bamboo trees. Some know it as the Forest of the Lost."

"The Forest of the Lost? Sounds ominous."

"It is unfortunately quite easy to get lost in the Bamboo Forest, simply because of the way in which bamboo breeds. It grows quickly, obscuring old paths and covering them with shoots; and it grows homogeneously, meaning that unless you placed a permanent marker down in the soil, you would never be able to tell where you are, because everything around you would look the same. Many who enter do not return – human and youkai alike."

"It's somewhat alarming that such a dangerous place would be situated on the edge of the Village."

"Most of the humans living here know not to stray. There are plenty of signposts and roads around the boundaries of the Bamboo Forest, but those grow sparser the deeper you go. Keine will want to be far away from any human eyes, so I suspect she will not be close."

"Then how are we supposed to find her?"

Marisa held her broom up and shook it, rattling the lantern attached to the end. "We'll fly. The Human Village is a lot easier to spot in the air, high above the trees, so we won't get lost. Keine's already told us roughly which way to go."

"I see," I said. "That's a relief. Thanks."

Marisa coughed, and muttered a quick, "You're welcome," before falling silent again.

I had not spoken to Marisa since that night. She had not sought me out, and I did not dare venture into the Forest on my own without an escort, and so I had been left to ponder on whether I had made a mistake. I did not think she minded that much… but then again, if she didn't, why would she avoid me?

Miko sensed that my mind was often elsewhere during our sessions together, but she perhaps did not see fit to delve too deeply into my affairs, something for which I was grateful. She simply carried on as she always did, urging me on when I was weary, guiding me through the texts in her usually deft and skillful manner. By now any lingering doubts I had of Toyosatomimi no Miko's intentions were banished, though knowing that Marisa still did not trust her only added to the weight that tugged on my chest whenever I thought of the blonde witch.

The awkwardness had to end eventually. I resolved to put things right between her and I once this full moon was past.

We stopped at the edge of the Bamboo Forest. Wordlessly, Marisa flipped her broom onto its side, clambered on, and gestured for me to follow. I placed my hands gingerly on her hips, feeling her slim waist beneath my fingers. Even though I had done this many times before, my arms felt numb, and slight chills ran through my palms. Not that I was alone in succumbing to my emotions – I could feel Marisa's petite body shivering beneath the fabric as I touched her.

The four of us rose into the air until our legs dangled high over the bamboo. From above, the Bamboo Forest was a bed of leafy nails, the canopy only barely disguising the tips of each shoot poking out from the blanket of foliage. As I looked to my left, I could see in the distance the divide between the Bamboo Forest and the Forest of Magic, a separation which was not so immediately evident to those who remained on the ground. It seemed as if the forests had been artificially plastered together by some mountainous hand, with little regard for aesthetic or nature.

Reimu noticed my inquisitive glances and flew over to us.

"It is strange, is it not?" she called over the wind gushing past our ears.

"They are too neatly attached," I replied. "The bamboo and the other trees do not mingle. How was such a thing achieved?"

"Legend says the Bamboo Forest was washed onto Gensokyo's shores by a great tsunami, hence the arrangement. Of course, such a thing hardly seems likely, but all legends have a basis in truth. There is no smoke without fire, after all. If you are curious, you may ask Keine yourself when we get there."

Just as the Human Village had shrunk into little more than a pinpoint of light, Reimu began to decelerate, and the rest of us followed suit.

"We are near," said Miko.

"How do you know?" I looked around at the thicket beneath my feet. "I don't see her."

"We've been here before," Marisa replied. "Keine always picks this spot. Though…"

"You sense it too?" Reimu slowed to a halt, and squinted at the trees. "Something is off."

"What is it?" Asking so many questions left me feeling foolish, but my interest inevitably outweighed my pride. "What's wrong?"

"There is usually a great upwelling of magic as Keine Kamishirasawa assumes her hakutaku form," Miko explained patiently. "I say usually, because today that seems to be absent. Quite odd."

"Let's land and see what we can find," Marisa said. The others agreed, and we touched down onto the forest floor.

Looking up at the Bamboo Forest was significantly different from looking down at it – the distant cluster of tiny nails had become tall, spiny trunks that loomed menacingly over us as we trudged through the gaps. The wind whistled hauntingly as it weaved around the trees, its pitch cresting and troughing with eerie regularity. The bamboo grew in an ostensibly arbitrary manner, but there was a strange orderliness to their growth, forming a pattern that my meager vision could not understand.

"Do you feel anything?" Reimu asked.

Miko shook her head. "Either she is not near, or she is still in her human form. Neither possibilities seem likely, but nothing about this situation is at all as expected."

"There." Marisa pointed in front of us, and as we followed her finger, we found a red blur hidden amongst the green and black. "That looks like her."

We approached the blur, and sure enough, it was the silhouette of Keine Kamishirasawa sitting on the forest floor. Her arms rested on her knees; her eyes were closed, and her head nodded back and forth.

"She's… asleep?" Reimu said incredulously.

"More importantly, look at her forehead." Miko put a hand to Keine's temple, brushing aside her silvery hair. "No horns. The full moon is above us, unobscured by clouds, but she has not transformed."

"This is getting stranger and stranger by the minute." Marisa put a thumb to her mouth and chewed on it, frowning deeply. "She must have fallen asleep waiting for us. I'm guessing she didn't sleep in the afternoon, since she thought she would have become a hakutaku by now."

"In any case, we should wake her up." Reimu placed her hands on Keine's shoulders and rocked them gently. "Keine. Keine."

Keine groaned, and her eyes slowly opened, gazing unsteadily at us as she awoke.

"Reimu? I see you are all here… Are we still in the Bamboo Forest?"

"We are." Miko knelt in front of her. "You have not transformed. Any idea why?"

"I… what?" Keine's hands shot up to her forehead, feeling for the protrusions that would usually be there on a night such as this. "I am still human? This cannot be. The full moon was scheduled for tonight, was it not?"

"It was, but you are still human," Miko said. "Do you know why that might be so?"

"I… If I were a hakutaku, perhaps I would be able to discover what had happened to me." Keine sighed. "But as I am now, I do not know more than I already do."

"Maybe your magic is inhibited in some way," I suggested.

"That is a possibility, though from what I can tell, her magic seems to be the same as always – at least, in her human form," Miko replied. "No spells appear to have been cast on Keine. Not that any could be cast without her knowing about it, anyway."

Keine nodded. "Everything is as it should be. The only other alternative explanation is that, perhaps… the Moon itself is different tonight."

The five of us looked upwards in unison. The Moon stared back, its dusty, pockmarked surface alight with the bluish gray glow that it always carried. At first glance, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

And yet…

"Look at the bottom right portion of the Moon," I said. The four witches squinted, and as they saw what I saw, their eyes widened in shock.

"There is… a cut," Keine breathed. "A part of the Moon is gone."

"What happened to it?" I asked.

Reimu narrowed her eyes. "Those that live on the Moon – or used to live there – are interfering with our affairs. Though for what reason, I do not know."

My ears heard, but my mind refused to believe. "There are people living on the Moon?"

"Not really the most outlandish thing you've heard so far, is it?" Marisa said. "Considering what goes on in Gensokyo."

"No, but at least everything I've seen so far has been confined to Gensokyo. The Moon is a different matter, especially considering that we – humans in the outside world – have already been there."

"It is typical of human hubris to think that the universe is yours to claim," called a leering voice from the shadows between the trees.

The newcomer emerged into the false moonlight. She was pale-skinned and red-eyed, an almost ethereal presence whose otherworldliness was only emphasized by the slender black ears that sprouted from her head, twitching as the breeze blew past. A long robe of white and red, the colors parted at the waist, completed the picture.

"Kagerou Imaizumi," muttered Reimu.

"What business does a human have here, so far from the Village?" she asked. "On another note, it seems that you, Keine Kamishirasawa, are in the same predicament as I." Kagerou pointed at her own forehead.

"The Moon is not what it seems," Keine replied. "A portion of it has been taken. I do not know if the incompleteness of the Moon is preventing my transformation, or if the Moon itself is no longer the same. Regardless, I intend to ask the Lunarians – they should have the answer."

"Ah, yes. Eientei." Kagerou put a sleeved hand to her chin and stroked it. "The last refuge for the exiles. Perhaps I will join you – after all, this concerns me just as much as it concerns you. Eientei is not far from here. I will take you to it."

Kagerou motioned for us to follow, and as we began walking, she turned to me, her unnerving half-smile never wavering.

"What is a human like yourself doing in such illustrious company?" she asked.

"I ask myself that same question regularly," I replied.

"He is our friend," Reimu said. "His magical potential is vast, but it is as yet untapped. We brought him here to resolve a question that Keine may have answered, if the Moon were as it should be. But the traveler has accompanied us on many adventures, and has more than proved his worth."

"Ah, yes. So, he is your pet. How unsightly."

"Watch your tongue, werewolf," Miko warned. "He is a valuable companion."

"Pets are valuable companions," Kagerou retorted. "That does not change what they are. If he really were as important as you say, you would not pull him around like a dog on a leash. He would stay in the Village and hide, just like the rest of the humans do."

"Actually, it is mainly my fault that they have to drag me around," I said. "I do not wish to be a burden, but at the same time there are things that I must discover about myself, things that cannot be gleaned simply by remaining in the safety of the Village. I hoped not to take advantage of their kindness, but they have offered it nonetheless, and for that I am unendingly grateful."

"Hmph." Kagerou brought her head near my shoulder and sniffed it, as if trying to discern what it was about me that garnered such attention. "You are unlike the other humans. You willingly throw yourself into the bottomless pit hidden within this land. I do not smell fear, but the absence of caution shall be your undoing one day."

I could not help but laugh. "Then I hope to at least be in good company when that day arrives."

The sound of distant music stopped us in our tracks. It was the singing of a flute, merry yet undeniably solitary, borne aloft by the wind. If I strained my ears, the low hum of chatter was also audible.

"Sounds like the festival is in full swing." Miko pushed through the bamboo, and as we followed, the noise grew louder and more scattered. Before long, its source was revealed to us.

It was a gathering of girls, a meeting of maidens, one that appeared somewhat akin to a festival. Banners and lanterns were hung around and between the trees; food was laid out on the pink and purple tables arranged neatly around the clearing. The food itself, consisting of mochi, manjuu and other delights, all seemed to be Moon-themed – as were the banners, which were ornated with gold circles and silver crescents. By all accounts, this was a celebration of the full moon in full swing.

More interestingly, the maidens, though varied in clothing and appearance, all shared one key characteristic: long, fluffy ears protruding upwards from their hair. Yet in the middle of the hubbub was the one exception to that rule.

Many of the rabbit-eared entities were standing in front of buckets full of mochi, pounding the glutinous mixture rhythmically to the music, their ears bouncing up and down as they strained their limbs. The only human-looking girl present was instead sitting quietly on a mat, pink and red robes spread evenly around her, a bamboo flute pressed to her mouth, swaying gently as she led the mochi-makers in their oscillations.

The girl laid eyes on us, and the music stopped. The rabbit-eared girls ceased their activities, and turned to face the gatecrashers.

"I bid ye welcome to the Moon Festival," said the girl, pushing her black bangs out of her eyes. She squinted as she realized the identities of her new guests. "Misses Imaizumi, Hakurei, Kirisame, Toyosatomimi and Kamishirasawa. And a stray human, to boot. Thy presences here are a surprise to me, especially in such a combination."

"Princess Kaguya," Reimu said in greeting, and bowed. "We have come because of a problem, whose solution we feel only you may be able to reach."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"The Moon." Marisa gestured at the sky. "It's not the real one. You know something about that?"

"I might." Kaguya covered her mouth with her robe's unusually wide sleeve. "And what of it?"

"The Human Village is vulnerable without my protection," Keine said as she stepped forward. "I cannot protect it from the youkai if I do not have the full extent of my powers. If you know something, then I ask that you reveal it to us. For all our sakes." She, too, bowed.

The pink-robed princess frowned. "Such desperation is unlike thee. For a moment, I almost felt empathy for thy plight. But I can no longer abide such feelings. The Moon must remain in its current state, for the sake of all that I hold dear. If not, I shalt never forgive myself."

"What do you mean?" Miko asked.

"I am not at liberty to answer thee." Kaguya gestured to the other maidens. "My rabbits. Hold them off for now, whilst I contact my adviser." She rose to her feet, and with a flourish, she vanished from sight.

"How did she do that?" I breathed.

"She has command over time, much as Sakuya Izayoi does – though her ability is to slow down and speed up time, rather than stop it completely." Reimu narrowed her eyes. "But she cannot use that ability for long, so she must have returned to her manor, which is close by. Marisa and I will take the rabbits on. Miko, you bring Keine and the traveler to Eientei – there should not be many left to guard the mansion, so I trust you can handle whatever is left, and you'll be safer there than here. Kagerou, are you with us?"

Kagerou sighed. "I had hoped not to be dragged into more petty conflicts, but very well. This matter pertains to me as well, so I will do what I can."

"Come, traveler." Miko pulled at my jacket, and pointed into the forest. "Let's go."

As Reimu and Marisa began to glow with energy, their formidable magical weaponry duly summoned from the tips of their fingers, the three of us scurried away into the night. The last thing I saw was the rabbit-eared maidens converging upon them, no longer looking as innocuous and benign as their dainty appearances might suggest.

A part of me cursed my personal uselessness in a skirmish – after all, it was my question to Keine which had put us in this position in the first place, and to have others do the dirty work did not sit right with me. But another part of me knew that my place was not in battle, and it would never be. The conflicts of this world were neither mine to bear, nor mine to intervene in. For me to stick my nose into disagreements whose foundations had been laid long before I had arrived, and which would continue long after I was gone, simply did not feel right. I was to be an observer, nothing more, and I ought to be satisfied with fulfilling such a role.

A large, haunting silhouette came into sight.

"Here we are," said Miko.

Though to say that woodland and rock were abundant in Gensokyo would be a severe understatement, the number of people living here who had studied enough architecture to build something beyond a simple wooden hut was markedly small. Mansions and villas were thus few and far between, so to see the multi-storied structure rise from amidst the shadow, imposing its presence upon the forest around it, was little short of awe-inspiring.

I remembered little about the Scarlet Devil Mansion – my memories of my time before meeting Reimu Hakurei were still foggy at best – but I knew at the very least that Eientei would not lose to the Mansion in terms of size, scale, or design. Whilst the Scarlet Devil Mansion was, to my limited knowledge, modeled in the western gothic style of architecture, which made it unique in this part of the world, Eientei was an example of the ubiquitous traditional Japanese style of construction that was more commonly seen in the many shrines and temples that dotted this realm. The walls were made primarily of wood and bamboo, and supported by pillars of stone; the windows were shuttered by more slabs of wood, though the few that were open revealed paper blinds, and beyond them, nothing but darkness.

In fact, the only reason that we did not see Eientei sooner was because all the lights inside were off. At first glance, the entire building appeared entirely uninhabited.

The entrance to the mansion was unassuming and hard to spot in the faint azure glow of the fake Moon. Nestled behind the fence that surrounded the mansion were a pair of sliding doors that, when pushed open, revealed a corridor running from left to right. Miko closed the doors behind us, and the whistling breeze – along with all the other noise from without – was immediately silenced.

Small torches were placed intermittently throughout the corridors, but spaced out far enough from each other that there were large patches where little of the floor could be seen. This also had the effect of concealing the corridor's true length from us: we could not see where the corners were, as they were obscured by both dimness and distance. The corridor's walls were draped in beautiful, hand-painted paper tapestry, depicting flowers and trees and other such delightful facets of nature, but this did not help us discern any further details about the layout of the building itself. Additionally, the torchlight cast irregular shades upon the tapestry, transforming the drawings into grotesque caricatures of themselves.

"This looks like the beginning of a maze," I commented.

"That is because it is," Keine replied. "The labyrinthine network within the mansion is a source of protection in its own way. Only those who have lived here for long enough know the way through – after all, if they do not learn how to navigate the maze, they will be doomed to wander its hallways until they perish."

"How long is 'long enough'?" I felt the need to ask.

Keine looked at me and smiled, but said nothing.

"However," Miko interjected, "even if you do have a map of the maze, you still would never be able to reach your destination unless specifically authorized by the spell that has been cast upon this place."

"Why not?"

"Because the corridors are, thanks to that spell, essentially endless. You may walk for millennia and never find what you seek. What Reimu said back then was not quite correct – Princess Kaguya does not have the ability to stretch or stop time, at least not in the sense that Sakuya Izayoi can. Her magic draws its source from the spectrum of eternity – the space between the infinitesimal and the infinite. She can make things last forever, or she can make them last no time at all. That includes herself, and that includes these corridors."

Keine nodded. "That is correct. Though unless I am mistaken, you have a way to break that spell."

"In a fashion. There is a way to the top floor, if you know how." Miko withdrew her sword from its sheath and held it aloft, watching keenly as the runes etched on the blade's surface, along with the orb fixed to its pommel, were bathed in yellow light. "Come with me."

We made our way down the corridor to the left, Miko whispering to herself and nodding her head every time we passed by a torch. The presence of her glowing sword, whose light now dwarfed the torches', meant that no part of the floor that we walked over remained in the dark. I suspected that this was important in some way, or Miko would never had drawn her sword, though I could not figure out exactly why.

After a few minutes of walking, a familiar feature appeared – or rather, reappeared.

"Isn't this where we just entered through?" I asked as we stopped in front of the sliding doors that served as Eientei's sole entrance.

"Quite right." Miko cleared her throat. "Were you keeping count?"

"Keeping count? Of what?"

"Consider this a good learning opportunity," Miko chirped. "Lesson number one: always take stock of your surroundings. That includes qualitative things such as sensation or perspective, but it also includes quantitative aspects, such as the number of torches we just walked past."

"But how is that relevant?"

"As you have probably guessed by now, the spell cast over these hallways works by instantaneously sending someone from one end of the corridor to the other, meaning that if you walked in one direction, you would simply be looping through the same corridor over and over again. So, in other words…" She trailed off, clearly expecting me to finish the sentence.

"So… the spell's boundaries are situated at each end of the corridor?" I answered tentatively.

"Exactly right." Miko beamed proudly and patted my shoulder. "The torches are evenly spaced through this corridor, so in order to find out where the corridor ends – and begins – we simply have to divide the number of torches we passed by in half. I counted thirty-eight torches, so we should find the spell's source at the nineteenth torch."

And indeed, as we walked down the corridor again and came to a stop in the area between the nineteenth and twentieth torches, I noticed a miniscule crack in the floor that would have otherwise not have been seen if Miko's sword had not illuminated it, casting its outline into clear focus.

"This is where the spell bisects the endless corridor." She motioned for us to stay behind her, and then, sheathing her sword, clapped her hands together and muttered an incantation. The crack abruptly widened, sending the "other half" of the corridor shooting off into the pitch-black abyss that had been created by the gap.

Startled, I blinked quickly, and the whole corridor was immediately back to normal as if nothing had happened. Now, however, the crack was gone, and a staircase had materialized several torches away.

"All done," Miko said triumphantly. "The first step to knowing how to undo a spell is knowing exactly how it works. Remember that."

I nodded, and we quickly ascended to the next floor. The second and third floors were similarly dispatched with – though the third floor contained a few more corners and dead ends that we had to navigate – before, at last, we finally made it to the top.

As we climbed onto the fourth floor, we found that the corridor that greeted us no longer ran from left to right, as it had done on the previous levels. Instead, it led only forwards.

"At the end of this corridor is Princess Kaguya's private quarters," Keine murmured. "No spell has been cast on this floor. I suspect she will be waiting for us there, as will her bodyguards. I do not expect that she sent her entire escort out with her into the festival. She would surely have asked for some of her entourage to stay behind."

"We will find out." Miko pulled her sword out again. "Let's go."

We stepped gingerly down the hallway, our footsteps and my heartbeat the only sounds echoing in my ears. Torch after torch flickered menacingly as we advanced, but Toyosatomimi no Miko's sword guided us forwards, and I took heart from its unwavering energy.

Soon, another pair of sliding doors came into view.

"Here we are," said Miko. She eased the doors open, and we entered.

Kaguya's chambers were much larger than even the impressive exterior of Eientei suggested might be possible, no doubt due to some arcane magic that warped the matter around the room, expanding it beyond its usual magnitude. The walls appeared to be coated in some ethereal material that sucked away the light around it, yet simultaneously emitted light of its own. In fact, the room as a whole seemed to shift in and out of existence, as if it were a mirage in the desert of the void that shrouded this space.

At the center of the room was a wide tatami mat, upon which the mistress of the mansion sat, hands resting on her lap, gazing at us expectantly.

"I knew this place could not hold thee for long, Toyosatomimi no Miko," said Kaguya. "The nature of its magic is familiar to thee, as one well-versed in the infinitesimal."

"Tell us about what happened to the Moon, Princess Kaguya." Miko placed her sword on the ground in front of her, in a small gesture of goodwill. "Nobody here needs to suffer harm."

"I know thou dost not desire the fight. It is not thy way. But," Kaguya lowered her voice, "more is at stake here than thou might know."

"You could tell us the reason, at least," Keine pleaded. "We are not unreasonable people. If you suffer some kind of plight, we may be able to assist you."

Kaguya's features softened as she looked away. "Thou art as kind as always, Keine Kamishirasawa. But this is a matter that pertains to me, and to my forebears. I cannot involve thee, but I also cannot lift the veil cast upon the Moon before my work is done."

"Every day that the Moon's light is sealed is another day that Gensokyo's denizens remain in danger." Keine sighed. "I must ask that you speak freely of your ills, or we will have to restore the Moon ourselves. By force, if we must."

"That I cannot do." Kaguya closed her eyes. "If this is the path thou chooses, so be it."

"With the greatest respect, Princess Kaguya," Miko said, "I would not consider your odds of victory in battle greater than ours. We are two, and you are one."

"Thou art mistaken in that respect. I am not alone. Come forth."

The sullen air behind Kaguya shifted, and a figure emerged from the distortion.

"Eirin Yagokoro, at your service," said the red-robed maiden. "What would you have me do, Princess?"

Eirin Yagokoro's dark eyes fixed onto me.

"I remember you, traveler." She smiled. "Do you still have the peony I gave you?"

"It is… in my room." I did not recognize her at first, but her statement immediately brought a rush of forgotten memories surging forth. The trek up the Mountain. Meeting her in the peony fields. And, of course, everything that came after. "I keep it in a jar on the windowsill."

"You have come far since we last met," Eirin continued. "Another window has been opened into the true extent of your capabilities. You have accessed a different dimension, a different perspective."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"The fiber of your magic feels different. Its nature is changed. Though it feels as if you have not learned how to harness it at will, so I cannot say what lies in wait for you. Nevertheless, it would be fascinating to see-"

"Enough," Miko cut in. "The traveler is not your concern. He is ours to protect."

"He is not yours in any way, just as he is not mine." Eirin's tone of voice took on an undercurrent of iciness. "For an accomplished hermit such as yourself, you seem to have an unusual level of attachment to the world around you. Perhaps your immortality is not as significant an achievement as I thought it to be."

"Perhaps we should put that to the test." A ring of bright yellow appeared around Miko's sword, which was now incandescent to the point of being blinding. "Words mean little in the face of deeds."

"Cease thy bickering," Kaguya barked. "Eirin, deal with our guests."

"With pleasure." Eirin spread her arms.

At once, a flurry of petals exploded from the ground surrounding her, spinning wildly around the room, filling the black void with a blanket of vivid pink. It felt as if we were stood beneath a cherry blossom tree, and a strong wind had blown the flowers clean off the branches, sending the petals into a frenzy around us. Miko threw up a dome of light, a translucent barrier against which the petals thrashed tirelessly.

"I can't hold this for much longer." Miko groaned and gritted her teeth, holding her sword aloft and willing its light to feed the barrier. "Keine, can you do something?"

"I am trying, but Kaguya has cast her magic upon the petals." Keine's brow was furrowed, her eyes alight with her own efforts at freeing us from the prison of sheer color in which we found ourselves. "She has made them eternal, and thus immune to my abilities. I can do no more."

A crack appeared in the bulwark, spreading rapidly across the surface of the dome.

"Brace yourselves!" Miko called. I closed my eyes, awaiting the full force of the attack.

But there was to be no impact.

A streak of lightning pierced through the cloud of petals, burning them to a crisp. Hot on its tail was a storm of spell cards which converged on Eirin, forcing her to erect a shield of her own to withstand the barrage.

The remains of the petals scattered onto the ground. At the doorway behind us stood our saviors, two bruised and battered maidens with frays on their clothes and patches of dirt on their cheeks.

"Reimu! Marisa!" exclaimed Miko. "Right on time, as always."

"Apologies for the wait," panted Reimu. "The rabbits were unexpectedly stiff obstacles to overcome." She glared at Eirin as the last of the spell cards were repelled. "Eirin, end this madness now."

"Only if my mistress commands it. Until then," the lunar goddess opened her palms, revealing two glowing gray orbs, "we must perform our respective duties."

"Have it your way." Marisa thumped the floor with the shaft of her broomstick, and from it erupted a thunderous, cacophonic crackling, accompanied by further spears of electricity that arced across the walls. The orbs in Eirin's hands simmered with energy, and as the lightning reached her, the orbs sucked the magical light into themselves, absorbing it with unerring efficiency.

As Marisa occupied Eirin, Reimu rushed over to our side.

"Where is Kagerou?" asked Keine.

"She was defeated," Reimu replied bluntly. "We must leave now."

Keine shook her head. "The spells lurking in this place have no doubt been reinforced. We will find ourselves trapped in the labyrinth if we attempt to go back the way we came."

"What do you mean?" Reimu said bemusedly. "There were staircases that led us to this floor."

"The magic that shrouded those were undone by Toyosatomimi no Miko, but only for a short while. I suspect they will no longer be accessible, and the hallways will be our enemy once again. Our only option is to cut the head of the snake, and curb the effects of the spell at its root."

Reimu shook her head. "Princess Kaguya is immortal. How will we ever leave?"

The last vestiges of Marisa's spell were snuffed out, and without missing a step, the orbs unleashed a wave of silver and gray, no doubt fueled by Marisa's last assault. Reimu flung out her sleeves, and more spell cards poured forth, this time forming a wall in front of us to intercept Eirin's magic. But the force of Marisa's recycled energy was much too great, and all of us were forced back, scurrying behind Reimu's quickly diminishing aegis.

Then, the magic disappeared, as if somehow consumed by the air around it. The room fell back into its dimly-lit state. There stood Keine before the wall, her fingers locked, her eyes narrowing as she focused.

"I knew that history-eater would come in handy," Miko breathed. "Marisa, reinforce my sword. Reimu, back me up."

The other maidens nodded. Marisa drew a line of vermillion energy in the space before her and, grabbing the light with both hands, forced the magic into Miko's blade. The steel promptly burst into flame, its fire flickering menacingly as the metal roared into life.

Miko closed her eyes, and with a single, immeasurably rapid lunge, she was immediately upon Eirin, bringing her sword crashing down upon the goddess. Yet as Eirin attempted to parry the blow, Reimu, who had traced a small pentagram on the floor, slammed a paper seal into the middle of the star-shaped spell. A much larger white star expanded around Eirin, and from it a series of glowing chains shot forth, coiling all the way up Eirin's sleeves.

"We got her!" Marisa cheered.

But just as those words left her lips, the chains immediately retracted from their grip around Eirin's wrists and slunk back into the white star.

"Do not forget that there are two of us here," said Princess Kaguya, who had retreated behind her scion, but nonetheless remained very much part of the proceedings.

Reimu clicked her fingers, and her familiar yin-yang orbs rose from the ground. "It appears we are at something of an impasse," she commented.

"We have one who controls history, and one who controls eternity," Keine said as she cast a protective spell on herself. "What happens when the endless meets the infinite?"

The princess smiled. "We shalt find out. Eirin, do not hold back."

"I never do." Eirin pressed her palms together and took a deep breath. "Come forth, light of the Moon."

From the deep void of the room's aetheric walls ascended a large circle of pure beige. Though it looked perfectly round at first glance, I noticed that the same sliver as the Moon outside the mansion was missing from this moon as well. There was now no doubt that Eirin herself was behind the illusion that occupied the night sky.

"Just our luck that we had to fight her on the full moon," Marisa muttered. She stretched her arms out and, as her fingers started to sparkle, yelled, "Reimu!"

Reimu flung her arms out, and the yin-yang orbs rocketed forwards. Upon reaching Eirin, they burst into an enormous fan of small blue dots, which rotated frenziedly with the orbs as their axes. The dots ate holes in whatever they touched, no matter whether it was a floorboard, the table, or even parts of Eirin's robe sleeves as she hurriedly cast yet another barrier around herself. The lightning that emanated from Marisa's fingertips bounced around the dots, further empowering their destructive rampage.

However, the image of the Moon Eirin had summoned was clearly not for show. The "moonlight", which oozed and dripped from the circle in a sickly manner, eroded Reimu's dots upon contact, and before long the yin-yang orbs themselves were subsumed.

Miko uttered something under her breath. "O Principals, I call upon you," I heard her whisper as she drew three circles in the air. "Take the eleven moons from those who would defile them."

I looked up at the Moon. Parts of it were beginning to tear away, as if the Moon itself were being recalled to the place whence it had spawned. What Miko had just said reminded me of a text I had read during one of our sessions – the Taoist deities, it seemed, had come to reclaim what had been taken from them.

Yet whatever was happening, was evidently not happening fast enough.

"A good idea, hermit," called Princess Kaguya. "But a futile one, as long as the Moon's fate is in my hands. Eirin, end this now."

The same orbs that had absorbed Marisa's magic were summoned once again, though this time they drank the ichor that leaked from the false Moon. As the last of the moonlight was sucked dry, my eyes widened.

I knew what was coming. And, judging by the sudden, hasty chanting of the others, they knew too.

The orbs exploded. Flimsy shields were thrown up, but they were no match for the power of the Moon. The five of us were flung bodily against the walls.

Reimu, who had stood in front of us and took the brunt of the blast, fell limp onto the floor, her head slumping onto her shoulders.

"Reimu!" Marisa ran to Reimu's collapsed form, nursing the shrine maiden's head in her arms. "Reimu! Wake up!"

Then, Marisa pulled her hand away in shock. Her fingers, which she held up into view, were covered in crimson.

The red liquid dripped onto the floor. The room fell silent.

I expected Marisa to fly into a rage, to let loose her shackles and exact every vengeance available upon the lunar goddess. Instead, the blonde witch cradled Reimu's body, and pressed her forehead onto Reimu's.

For a moment that seemed to stretch on for hours, all of us were mute. Keine was downcast; Miko puckered her lips and frowned. Even Eirin and Kaguya found it in themselves to look apologetic, though their hardened stares did not easily give way.

The sudden lull in proceedings, though abrupt, did not surprise me. The inhabitants of Gensokyo disagreed often, and disagreed violently, but they did not kill. That was a universal, binding principle to which all the magic users of this realm subscribed – there were few enough people residing here as is, so each individual life was considered much more valuable than it might otherwise be in the outside world. It was telling that this was the first time I had seen blood since my arrival – witnessing it leaking from one of my closest friends only made the scene all the more shocking.

Marisa looked up at us. The dam that held her tears back looked on the verge of bursting.

"Are we done here?" she asked quietly.

It seemed as though space was not the only thing that was warped within the great mansion. When we exited the double doors that guarded Eientei, the sun was already peeking over the horizon, filtering through the microscopic gaps in the wall of bamboo before us. Minutes within Eientei had turned to hours without; the false Moon's light had long since given way to its source.

We rested Reimu against a nearby bamboo stalk. She was breathing, but it was ragged and labored.

"The bleeding has been stemmed, but she will need time to recover." Eirin Yagokoro stood at the entrance, shuffling her feet, unsure whether to come closer or maintain her distance. "I have medicine that will restore her blood and heal the wound on her head, if you-"

"No need." Miko held up a hand. "You have… done enough."

Eirin bowed. To her credit, upon seeing that Reimu was badly hurt, she had immediately produced an herbal bandage from her pouch, wrapping it tightly around Reimu's head. The great red ribbon was loosened, leaving Reimu's hair to hang about her shoulders. Afterwards, Eirin had bid Kaguya release the spell surrounding Eientei momentarily to allow us to depart, which the princess ultimately did with some reluctance. She had then escorted us through the now quite ordinary corridors, a mixture of consternation and discomfort on her face all the while. If she was sorry about hurting Reimu, she certainly did a good job of showing it.

Even though we had been allowed to leave with our lives – if not our dignities – intact, we still did not have what we needed. The Moon remained artificial and sterile; the Village was, though not totally unprotected, considerably more vulnerable. The youkai lurking the forests perhaps did not know that yet, but once they did, all hell might well break loose. And as long as Eientei was impregnable, its secrets closed to us, the time bomb would continue to tick.

"We should return to the Village. I'll carry Reimu on my broom." With a grunt, Marisa hefted Reimu's body onto her back, draping the shrine maiden's arms over her shoulders.

"Wait," Eirin said as we began to turn away. "A word."

"What more words would you have us hear?" Miko asked, her impatience patent in her voice. "Nothing more need be said."

"You may be right," the lunar goddess continued. "My mistress will not hear reason as long as she has her own interests to protect. But I am not my mistress, even if I must otherwise act out her will. If your resolve proves superior to hers, then I cannot in good conscience stand in your way."

"So, in other words…"

"I will not help you." Eirin shook her head. "I cannot defy the princess. But I will tell you where you need to go, if you want assistance. Where we met last… that should be your next destination."

"Where we met last." I chewed over her statement. We had only met once before – there was little doubt about where she intended for us to head next.

"Nothing more need be said. I wish you well." Eirin retreated into the shade of the mansion's doorway, and shut the sliding doors with a snap.

Marisa narrowed her eyes. "She can't be trusted."

"Eirin is a person of integrity, even if she is our opponent for now," Keine said. "In any case, the only way we will find out if she is telling the truth is if we follow her lead. The peony fields are only a day away from the Village – I suggest that you rest in the Village for today, then go there at first light tomorrow."

"Will you come with us?" I asked.

Keine shook her head. "I cannot. My duty to the Village remains, even if I am sapped of most of my strength. If I go with you, the humans will be completely defenseless. As much as I would like to find out the truth for myself, I fear that I may, in my current form, be little more than a hindrance. Which is why I also suggest that the traveler remain with me in the Village."

That last sentence caught us off-guard, though we knew it was a sensible idea. If I could not access my powers, I would be nothing more than a burden on the traveling party. As long as Kanako Yasaka guarded the realm between realms, I remained rooted in Gensokyo's limited reality, able only to fend for myself with my physical body – which, though healthy, was nowhere near strong enough to fight a youkai on equal terms, magical or otherwise.

A small part of me wanted to protest. After all, I had accompanied the maidens before me on essentially all the journeys they had made since I had met them. It simply did not feel right that I was to be left out now, at such a critical juncture. Yet my conscience knew that it was precisely the significance of this upcoming task that meant that they could ill afford any additional baggage. I could no longer keep exploiting their goodwill, or rely on them to protect me at all times. It was just as important for a peripatetic to know when not to travel as when to do so.

The birds chirped, calling out to the sun; the dew evaporated and rose from the treetops, their misty remnants coating our legs. Otherwise, the flight home was largely devoid of any excitement. None of us said anything – it had been a tiring night, and the events that had transpired did not lend themselves easily to conversation.

After we landed at the outskirts of the Village, Marisa, carrying Reimu on her shoulders, gave us a quick nod before vanishing into the throng of early morning shopkeepers. Keine, too, excused herself and returned to her quarters.

"What should we do now?" I asked.

Miko shrugged. "I will do what I always do. Traveler, maybe you will profit from some sleep. Your eyes look weary."

I rubbed my eyelids, which now suddenly felt as if they were made of cast iron. "You're right. I should take a nap. The training for today…"

"Forget about that," Miko said quickly. "Your health is paramount, especially if you are to learn heavier forms of magic. We will not resume the lessons until you are fully invigorated."

"Thank you. I should be fine by tomorrow."

"That's what I like to hear." Miko's brow furrowed. "I suppose we are leaving tomorrow, though. I do not know how long we will be gone."

"Well, whatever you find on Youkai Mountain, I hope it is helpful."

"I hope so too. Though…" Miko began to stroke her chin, as if deep in thought.

"Miko?"

"I have… an idea." Miko reached into her pouch and produced a small vial. "Here."

"What's this?" I asked. Peering into the vial, I could see a cluster of crystalline purple powder that twinkled brightly in the nascent sunlight.

"It is one of the hermit's most useful tools. Put simply, it is a powerful soporific."

"A sedative?" I was not sure how to react. "I… Thank you, though with respect, I think I am currently exhausted enough to sleep without the use of one."

"It is not just any old sedative. We use this powder when we need to reach a transcendent state. If you use the entire flask, you will not be woken by any means. It will look from the outside as if you have entered a coma."

I laughed. "I don't think I need to sleep quite that deeply."

"You will if you want to join us." Miko winked.

"I don't quite catch your meaning."

"If you do not want to miss out on the fun, then tomorrow morning, place the contents of that flask into a bowl and burn it. It will emit a smoke that will cause continuous slumber – as long as the powder burns, you will remain asleep. Then, just before you sleep, think as hard as you can about me."

"I'm not exactly trying to achieve… that sort of dream," I said hesitantly. "Though I enjoy your company immensely."

"Rid your mind of such filth," Miko chided, though she followed with a giggle. "Just trust me. I have an idea about where we are headed, and if Keine is right about the nature of your abilities, then you will have no problem helping us out." She flicked her fingers at me. "Now, begone. Go get your sleep. I will see you soon."

We bid farewell to each other, and I returned to the tavern. I plopped onto the bed as soon as I reached my room, feeling for the vial in my pocket. If I could trust in what Miko said, and in the sedative she gave me, then I would be staying in my room for some time. I had a faint idea of what Miko had planned, but I did not feel the need to scrutinize her ideas any further – not that my exhausted mind would allow me to.

I trusted her. That was all I needed to know.

Chapter Text

Early the next morning, I informed the tavern keeper that I would not be in my room for the week, and that I would be locking the door to keep my belongings safe. Then, after I pretended to leave, I snuck back into my room once the tavern keeper had turned his back.

Probably an unnecessary precaution – the tavern keeper was not known for ever inspecting the rooms that he kept, at least not while they were occupied. By now I had grown fond of his company, and as long as I continued to pay my weekly dues in rent, I was assured that the feeling was mutual. But one could never be too careful. I did not want him happening on me in a comatose state, and, in the assumption that I had passed on, arranging to have me buried in the village cemetery. It would be an unpleasant surprise, to say the least, if I were to wake only to find that I was soon to return to a more permanent form of sleep.

I shook the contents of the vial, then unplugged the cork and stared at the powder. The mauve glinted in the nascent sunlight, and in the red of dawn it took on a rose-colored hue. As I stared at the crystals' glittering facets, they somehow seemed to stare back, their eyes twinkling as they beckoned me forward.

In the distance, the roosters sang their song.

It was time.

I poured the powder into the bowl that I usually used to hold my evening drink, then took a match from the matchbox in the dresser and lit it. I opened my hand, letting the match sink into the powder, then closed the windows and made myself comfortable on the bed, stretching my limbs out and relaxing them to the fullest extent possible.

The smoke of the burning powder reached my nose, and with it came the smell. It was a faint, citrusy odor, with a note of lavender underpinning it, which made it seem like an incense. Yet as the aroma grew stronger, and a rapidly increasing drowsiness took hold of me, something more bitter and unpleasant came to the fore.

In my curiosity at the powder's hidden contents, I almost forgot the most important part of the ritual. I willed the familiar fox-eared silhouette to enter my head, tracing Miko's shape and color with what little of my consciousness remained. As she took form in my mind, I could not help but reach also into the memories that accompanied my vision of her. The first time we met, in the Great Mausoleum, her arrogant leering so at odds with her typically languid and cheerful demeanor. Our sojourn in the dead of night, walking alongside the lake, conversing about religion, revenge, and reconciliation. Her nods of approval as I recited the mantras she had so painstakingly taught me over the past week.

The world faded to black, but her figure remained, as did her smile. I resigned myself to unconsciousness, wondering what would await me at the end of the tunnel...

"Looks like it worked."

I couldn't believe my ears - barely any time had passed since I had fallen asleep. My eyes jerked open instinctively. "Miko?"

"You can't be serious," muttered another voice, one that was just as familiar as the last.

As my eyes refocused, I found what was now a sight I had become accustomed to. Several maidens standing over my head, gazing down at me, waiting for me to rise to my feet. Surely enough, the usual suspects were here: Reimu, Marisa, Miko… and, to my great surprise, Byakuren Hijiri.

"I… Where are we?"

"This place doesn't have a name, but we know it as the Kaian Passageway, or the Dream Passageway." A fifth maiden stepped forth, and upon seeing the rabbit ears she wore on her head, I instinctively shrunk away. She noticed my reticence, and immediately held her hands up as if to signify that she would pose no threat.

"Forgive me for startling you," she said hurriedly. "My name is Reisen Udongein Inaba. I am a scion of Eirin Yagokoro and the Princess – I was sent here to assist you in your endeavors. I heard there was a skirmish at Eientei, so I understand your reluctance in seeing one of my kind."

"Were you not there that night?" I asked.

Reisen shook her head. "I was tending to milady's poppy fields. Eirin is a keen herbalist and manufacturer of medicines – you could say I am her pharmacist. I help her make and sell her products, and I was working the fields when your acquaintances arrived. She informed me you would be coming, though I must say I was not expecting… this."

Just then, Marisa marched up to me and pulled on my earlobe. I yelped, though it was more out of surprise than pain.

"What did I tell you about not keeping things from us?" she huffed.

"Uh… what did you tell me? Ow!" The vice grip Marisa had on my ears intensified.

"I don't mind you keeping secrets from me, but not if it's about something as dangerous as this." The witch let go of my ears and crossed her arms. "There's just so much that's wrong with you trying something like that I don't even know where to begin. When Miko told me what she was making you do, I almost ran all the way back down the Mountain, you know?!"

"Sorry. I just… kind of… knew you wouldn't approve."

Marisa rubbed her temples and groaned. "Of course I wouldn't approve. I hate to say this in front of Toyosatomimi no Miko, but I can't help but feel like you confide in her a little too much. Until you fully understand the sort of magic that she wants you to cast, you shouldn't be doing things out just for the sake of trying something new."

"It may sound a tad hypocritical coming from me, but Marisa is right," added the hermit. "Perhaps you should be exercising more due caution."

"That really is rich coming from you," said Marisa as she swiveled around to face Miko. "I wasn't too hot about you coming with us, and now you pull something like this. What if the traveler had died or gotten lost in the space between worlds? How would you have made up for it?"

Miko shrugged. "I had every confidence that the magic would work. Even if the traveler does not fully comprehend the extent of his own abilities, I am well-versed in the type of magic he employs, even if I do not utilize it myself. The Taoist texts speak of such a-"

"Enough bickering, please." Byakuren, whose voice I had not heard in some time, stepped in between the two maidens. "There is little time for such pettiness. The traveler is here, and we must accept the situation as it is. I do not wish to wear at Reisen's patience, not after she had shown us so much goodwill."

"Oh, no." Reisen waved her hands frantically, her rabbit ears perking up. "Don't worry about me. Milady's bidding is my command, and wherever she wishes me to go, I go."

"Eirin Yagokoro told you to help us?"

Reisen shook her head. "Not explicitly. Milady asked me to visit the Moon and check on the Lunar Capital's condition. She suspects a threat, but she did not say of what sort. In either case, she said she would not stand in my way if I decided to lead you there… In other words, she wishes for me to do so."

"Forgive me, but I still have close to no knowledge about Lunarians, or the Lunar Capital, or whatever goes on in the Moon," I said. "But if Eirin says something is wrong, then I suppose it must be important, from what little I know of her."

"Your intuitions are correct," Reisen replied. "As for the Moon's comings and goings, I shall tell you all you need to know, whilst we are on the way."

Whatever the story I had expected Reisen to tell me was, it was not the one she spent the next ten minutes recounting. But the gusto with which she spoke only served to hammer home the reality of her narrative.

True to the legend I had once heard in the outside world, Kaguya Houraisan had been born as part of the royal household that ruled the Moon. She had lived a life free of worry, every need handed to her on a plate, every want scoured from the farthest reaches of their realm and duly delivered to her doorstep. But such was the nature of Lunarians, who were cousins of the human race and thus shared their tendencies for both good and evil, that even one who was sheltered from the evils of the world inevitably sought to stir up some chaos of her own. Restless in her comfort, Princess Kaguya sought to extrapolate the extravagance in which she lived… by any means necessary.

"Milady, Eirin Yagokoro, was the most senior advisor to the Lunarian court, possessing knowledge far beyond that of any mortal – and even that of most immortals. In confidence, Kaguya beseeched her to create something that would prolong her utopian life: an elixir of immortality. Milady could not say no; she was duty-bound to help the Princess, even if she knew what consequences would soon follow."

The price of immortality proved to be steep, though Kaguya's own physical form suffered no lasting harm – quite the opposite, actually, as she was now eternally young, and eternally beautiful. But such experimentation went against the principles by which the Lunarians lived, and there was to be only one punishment for such transgression. Yet Kaguya's newfound immunity to death precluded her from suffering the prescribed sentence, and so instead of being executed, she was cast out from Lunarian society, doomed to live a solitary and humble life alone in exile on Earth.

She thought she might eke out a bare living in one way or the other, and whittle eternity away bit by bit, but fate had other plans for her. Word of her ethereal beauty spread amongst the land, and suitors from far and distant lands came seeking her hand in marriage. In order to repel them, she set them a series of tasks that she knew to be impossible, and eventually the number of suitors dwindled, leaving her at peace once again. But not for long.

One day, representatives from the Moon arrived at her earthly abode, telling her that she had been granted clemency for her crimes and was thus allowed – or rather, forced – to return. But Kaguya had grown fond of life on Earth, in all its filth and foulness; the Moon was a clean, pristine place, yet such overwhelming perfection was restrictive in its own way. With the help of Eirin, who happened to be one of the Lunarian emissaries sent to retrieve her, the two of them absconded, escaping deep into what was now known as the Bamboo Forest, the Forest of the Lost. Eirin herself partook of the elixir she had created, and joined Kaguya in immortality, both to atone for her sins and to look after her mistress for as long as Kaguya needed her to.

"And that's where I come in," said Reisen cheerily.

The somber air that had descended upon us was abruptly lifted. "What?"

"I am a Lunarian, after all, even though I am no longer of the Moon. There no longer was a place for me there, and so I came to Earth to seek refuge."

"What happened on the Moon?"

"The humans invaded us and claimed the Moon for themselves. Not to worry though, traveler," Reisen hurriedly added, "I do not bear any ill will towards you for that, and neither do milady or Princess Kaguya. Many of us simply felt it was no longer safe for us to remain, even if the barrier surrounding the Lunar Capital was still intact. It might only be a matter of time before we were discovered, so I and several of my companions traveled to Gensokyo via the same route that we're taking now. Thankfully, milady and the Princess understood our plight and were willing to take us in."

"You'll have to forgive me for saying this, but last I recalled, we had not been to the Moon in several decades," I said. "The manned missions came to an end in 1972. No humans have been back since."

"Yes, well, it has been several decades since I left." Reisen sighed wistfully. "If what you say is true, then perhaps we were too hasty in our retreat. Many of my compatriots would jump at a chance to return. But I do not regret the choice I made, for serving milady has given me more joy than I could ever hope to find back home. Earth, and Gensokyo in particular, is a beautiful place. It is dirty and contaminated in parts, but I have come to realize that you must first know hell before you can know heaven. And by my estimation, there is no more of a paradisal realm than Gensokyo, a world trapped in stasis, untouched by decay and rot."

"I recall Eirin once saying you were a slave there, on the Moon," Miko said. "Is this true?"

"I… yes, it is." Reisen's ears drooped slightly. "Lunarian society is advanced in many ways, but it is also antiquated in other respects. Traveler, is it true that slavery no longer exists in the outside world? I have heard that this is the case, but I have never had the chance to confirm its veracity."

"Essentially, yes," I replied. "Though serfdom takes many forms, some more subtle than others. Many of us willingly sacrifice our freedom for the sake of material and personal security."

"That is… odd, in some ways," Reimu commented. "Though I am happy with my ascetic lifestyle, I cannot help but wonder on occasion what it would be like to relieve myself of my duties. Is a life of liberty not worth its weight in gold to those who have tasted it?"

"It depends on how you want to live." I shrugged. "Beyond the Barrier, we have grown accustomed to sacrifice in order to maintain the complex and multi-faceted structures within which we live. We have deemed such an arrangement necessary, and thus it is so."

"That is not so different from what we have here," the shrine maiden replied. "The residents of Gensokyo squabble a lot with each other, but in the end we know that there are certain principles that we must all subscribe to in order for Gensokyo to survive. The same should be the case in the outside world; otherwise, human civilization would have long since collapsed."

"Reimu is right," Miko chirped. "We may have magic in place of technology, and we may wield different modes of power, but the collective humanity within us is transcendent and unchanging. Gods are made in the image of men, and youkai have historically been considered to be products of the human imagination made manifest. It is perhaps the reason why no one entity has attempted to rule Gensokyo or make the realm their own – aside from the potentially momentous damage any civil wars would cause to the land. Of course, you have to take the good with the bad, and we are just as susceptible to malevolence just as we are to benevolence."

"I suppose you are all correct." Reisen looked up. "Watch your step. The terrain can be… unpredictable."

I had been so preoccupied with listening to Reisen that I had almost forgotten to take proper stock of my surroundings. We appeared to be in a realm that somewhat resembled outer space, an endless black void pocked with tiny twinkling pinpoints of light. A network of long, wispy lines had been drawn across the stars to serve as pathways, one of which upon which we now walked. The aetheric roads were dyed in hues of red and indigo, with hints of purple here and there. It was for the better that I had not paid close attention to the strange landscape – a slight feeling of vertigo began to creep in as I noticed the apparent frailty of the pathways, which billowed and stirred with every step, with nothing but a long, torturous fall towards the abyss beneath.

My knees numbed slightly, and I willed them to keep moving. The others seemed unperturbed by the eeriness of this world, though I noticed that Miko pulling her dress closer to herself from time to time. Warm blood might not course through her veins, but evidently the cold of outer space affected her just as it did any other being. I silently wondered if her cold-blooded physical form meant that, like a reptile, she could not regulate her body temperature on her own.

We reached an intersection of two perpendicular lines, and Reisen confidently marched off to the right. It remained a mystery as to how it was that she knew where to go, seeing how homogeneous the environment looked, but I surmised that she must have used this passageway often enough to burn the map into her memory.

A pinprick appeared in the distance. Given that there were so many stars, the appearance of an extra dot didn't seem so extraordinary. Yet whilst the other pinpoints remained static, this one seemed to be growing and taking shape, albeit at something of a snail's pace.

As had been the case so many times previously, an encounter with another unspeakably powerful entity loomed. Not that she exactly looked the part – the figure was dressed in what looked like an extravagant nightgown with little pink cotton balls stitched all over its surface, and her head was crowned by a flowing red nightcap that curled all the way down to her knees. Her navy-blue hair and eyes only made the vibrant cast of her clothes stand out even further. Behind her, a white tail swished from left to right in eager anticipation.

"It's a pleasure to meet y'all again," she said once we had come to a stop in front of each other. The casual tone of her speech caught me off guard – I had very much gotten used to the polite and formal vernacular used by most of Gensokyo's denizens, though Marisa was a notable exception to that rule. "Welcome to my home. You're all quite familiar to me, save for the newcomer. I suppose an introduction's in order." She grasped my hand and bowed, before giving me a quick smile and a wink.

"I'm the ruler of the Dream World; some call me the Ruler of Dreams. The name's Doremy Sweet. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The first of many questions immediately formed on my lips.

"Pleased to meet you. Are you not from Japan?" I asked. "That's a very foreign-sounding name."

The corners of her lips curled slightly, though her smile remained unflinching. "Who can say? I'm a dream-eating youkai, if you're curious, so that must make me at least a little Japanese."

"A dream-eating youkai? That sounds just a little ominous."

"Right on. You better watch your step, 'cause I might just get a little hungry. You look like you might have some succulent dreams in you."

I thought back to the times Suwako Moriya had materialized in my head in order to summon me to places that I had no business going to. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Anyway, putting that aside for a moment…" Doremy straightened up and surveyed her guests. "If you're all here in your physical forms, that must mean something's going on with the Moon again. Am I right, or am I right?"

"You are… right." Reimu coughed, evidently put off by Doremy's unrelenting barrage of informality. "The Moon has been replaced by a false image, and the magic that it normally bestows upon Gensokyo is no longer present. Eirin Yagokoro had something to do with its substitution, but she will not tell us the reason why she did so – though we know that it was done on Princess Kaguya's orders."

"Hm, hm." Doremy nodded sagely, as though she immediately understood everything that had transpired. "So, you're trying to go to the Moon to figure out what's going on. If Reisen is here, I'm guessing you had a little help from the one who caused you all this trouble in the first place, since I know the little bunny would never disobey her mistress."

"You're quite correct," Miko replied. Upon hearing her own name, Reisen squeaked and darted behind Reimu, clearly somewhat intimidated by the self-proclaimed Ruler of Dreams. Doremy snorted at the sight of Reisen's terror, and twirled her finger with a flourish before she spoke.

"If that's the case," she said, "that must mean that our pretty Princess has been put in a bit of a bind. She'd never do something this provocative and explosive if the safety of her or her scions weren't threatened in some way. Something – or someone – has a sword hanging over her head."

"Like Damocles," I blurted out instinctively.

"Very good!" Doremy clapped, whilst the other maidens looked on with completely blank expressions. She turned to stare at each of them in turn, as if not quite believing what she was seeing. "Don't tell me you don't know about the sword of Damocles?"

"It's a Western story," I hurriedly explained to the bemused onlookers. "So, Doremy, it seems like you are Western after all."

"You're free to draw your own conclusions," Doremy tittered. "I am a student of the West and the East. Dreams know no geographical boundaries, as you know. From the aristocrats of Europe to the samurai of Japan, all must sleep, and all must dream. And what I see in those dreams tells me much about the world, and about the state and fate of humanity. This is such a drab and boring place on its own; I can't help but entertain myself by playing with the toys that are offered to me."

"Quite so." Byakuren cleared her throat. "But I believe we should be going. Time does not wait for anyone, even in the Dream World. I agreed to join you because Reimu suggested I assist you in return for a compromise on the previous deal between Toyosatomimi no Miko and I, and while I am happy to be of help, my students are waiting for me back home."

She sounded strangely impatient and irritated, which was at odds of what I knew of her. But judging by how Miko was steadfastly refusing to look at her – in fact, I had not seen the hermit glance once in Byakuren's direction this entire time – I figured I might know the reason why. I privately hoped that this would not hurt our chances of escaping unscathed should we encounter any hostile entities, though I trusted the two great spiritual leaders to be sensible and cooperative when push really came to shove.

"Alright, alright, alright." Doremy looked a little hurt, though I couldn't tell if she was being facetious. "Keep your britches on. I never said I wouldn't tell you where to go. I just don't exactly recommend an extended stay on the Moon right now, for reasons that will become obvious once you hear them."

"What reasons would they be?" Miko asked.

For the first time since we had met, Doremy did not appear amused. Her eyes fell, and she bit her lower lip as she pondered what to say next. For a brief moment, we waited in silence, staring at her conflicted features.

"It's probably best that I take you to someone who can tell you," she finally replied. "Come with me."

We started walking again. In contrast to the past few minutes, where the vacuum of space had at least been filled with conversation, the silence that now ensued was so repressive and uncomfortable that I couldn't help but place each of my steps more forcefully in an attempt to generate some noise… only to find that my steps made no sound at all. It really did seem that for all intents and purposes, we were in outer space, though maybe it was a relocation of a dimensional nature rather than a physical one.

Regardless, whatever the ground was made of, it seemed to absorb all sound. Peculiar, then, that we should be able to hear each other talk in this "vacuum".

"The entrance to the Moon is just up ahead," Doremy warned after a few minutes of shuttling through the void. Not words that you heard every day.

"Not a very long walk, considering how far away the Moon is," I commented, though I knew what Doremy would likely say in response. Distances in different dimensions could differ wildly depending on how coordinates corresponded to each other; a trip that took three days in one dimension could be completed in the blink of an eye in another. I had long since given up on trying to understand how exactly everything worked in this weird and wonderful world, though that would not stop me from being inquisitive about them. The formal marriage of science and magic was a complex endeavor best left to more elevated minds – Suwako Moriya's Nuclear Furnace sprung to mind.

Sure enough, Doremy duly obliged. "Everything in the Dream World is within an hour's reach," she explained. "I thought you'd be aware of that by now, being something of a dimension hopper yourself."

"You know about my abilities?"

"It'd be hard not to." Doremy paused. "There's a lot about dimensions that I still don't know. Some parts of the Dream World are linked to the so-called world between worlds, and I can see a lot of what goes on there, though most of it just flits in and out of my vision. Maybe the Dream World is merely a subset of the world between worlds, merely one world out of many. Or maybe not. It's all a little confusing, so I prefer not to think about it too much."

"So, how did you get here in the first place?"

Doremy shrugged. "Who knows. Do you remember how your dreams ever begin? It's the same for me – one day, I was here, and I've been here ever since. This place is me, and at the same time, I am this place. Maybe this is the reason I was born: to watch over the dreams of people." She laughed, though her chuckles contained no mirth.

A pang of pity shot through my chest. As isolated as Gensokyo was, the people who lived there had each other to rely on, even if they didn't always see eye to eye. To be truly alone, and be doomed to such solitude for eternity, was a different matter entirely. It was an experience that at least one member of our party had to suffer through – though Byakuren, to her immense credit, never once gave in to resentment.

"Here we are," Doremy said abruptly. "Watch your step – the stairs are a little hard to see."

I stared down at my feet. We stood at the top of a staircase that seemed to phase in and out of focus, as if the strands that demarcated the path upon which we walked were in themselves becoming dimensionally tenuous, ready to snap at a moment's notice. The staircase stretched on as far as the eye could see, vanishing into a point in the vertical horizon.

"Gonna be a long walk," Marisa muttered.

"Come on, it's not like you haven't been here before." Doremy skipped down the first steps and beckoned for us to join her. "Let's hop to it."

"You've been here before?" I had to ask.

"A while ago." Marisa raised the hem of her skirt slightly and descended gingerly, making sure she could still see where she was putting her feet. "Though last time, we didn't have so much baggage, so we could just fly instead of having to walk."

"Sorry for burdening you," Reisen said hastily. "But you do need a guide through this place."

"Oh, it's fine, I don't have a problem with walking. We probably could have flown some of the way if someone didn't show up uninvited." She glared in my direction, and I immediately turned away.

By now, I was fully cognizant of the selfishness of what I had done. I had been asked to stay home for good reason, and by being here I risked dragging the rest of the party down. If I were attacked, they would have to save me. If I got lost, they would have to bring me back. I cursed my helplessness, but above all I felt, for the first time, a deep sense of shame and regret. My prior mistakes and incapacities had been forgiven due to my status as an otherworldly newcomer to Gensokyo, but I had been here for some time now, and I could no longer brush my errors in judgment off as mere products of inexperience.

I had to wise up, or I really would meet my end one day. More importantly, I could not keep exploiting the patience of those who had helped me.

Still, before I beat myself up too much, I had to consider why Miko had bothered to go to the effort to try and bring me here. Maybe she knew something about our current predicament that the others didn't. Maybe she had foreseen an eventuality that required my capabilities, though that sort of thinking seemed like little more than hubris on my part given how little I could do right now. Or maybe I was being used as a makeweight to prevent the air between her and Byakuren from getting too frosty.

Whatever it was, I trusted her to make the right decisions. And clearly, she trusted me, too.

"Here we are."

My head jerked up. "What?"

"What? We're already on the Moon. Pay attention." Doremy spread her arms wide. "Here we are."

Somehow, whilst I was deep in thought, the vast emptiness of the Dream World had given way to a small enclave that looked similar to the visitor rooms of the many shrines that I had stayed at in Gensokyo. Translucent paper sheets lined the walls, and the floor was matted with green bamboo straw. I looked around to find the entrance whence we had come, but the room appeared enclosed, and as normal as any you would expect to find on Earth. It was as if the staircase had simply melted into nonexistence – indeed, I had half-expected to trip over the sudden lack of steps, but I now found myself standing quite firmly on the tatami.

"We are… on the Moon?"

"Don't look so surprised." Doremy sighed. "Sit. And take your shoes off."

Still mildly stunned, I removed my boots and eased myself onto one of the cushions surrounding the square table in the middle of the room. Marisa knelt onto the cushion next to mine, but decided against it and moved to the cushion opposite me, leaving the seat for Reimu to occupy instead. Byakuren and Miko placed themselves as far from each other as possible, which led them to sit at the corners of the table. Doremy and Reisen, who possibly understood the nuances of the arrangement but did not wish to exacerbate the situation, continued to stand.

An awkward silence fell upon us. Yet just as I opened my mouth to speak, the only door to the room slid open.

"Well, well," said the smiling face that peered in. "An unlikely group of guests, indeed."

Chapter Text

The other maidens instantly rose to their feet, and I hastily did the same. Something about this person evidently commanded respect, or they would not have risen, but I had yet to figure out what that was. The girl stood no taller than Miko, who was the shortest member of our party, and she shared Marisa's flowing golden hair, though her brand was lighter in color and had been left to hang to her hips. Maybe she was adroit at magic, or maybe her reputation preceded her in some way. I would soon learn that it was both.

The newcomer held the hem of her purple dress and curtsied perfunctorily. "It is a pleasure to have you here at the royal palace – especially you, Reisen. I have been wondering when you would show up again. We have missed you dearly."

Reisen's ears drooped slightly as she bowed, as though she were still feeling somewhat guilty about deserting the Lunar Capital. Kaguya and Eirin might be considered persona non grata around these parts, but Reisen was clearly held in more favorable regard compared to her current masters, and the maiden standing before us seemed to bear no ill will towards her for leaving.

"I must admit, having heard about Lady Yagokoro's interventions on Earth, I was half-expecting emissaries to show up. Though this exceeds any and all reasonable expectations that I may have had… especially the presence of Byakuren Hijiri and Toyosatomimi no Miko in the same place. I do not involve myself in the petty struggles of you Earthlings, of course, but I am nonetheless glad to see some semblance of peace."

Miko frowned, as if to query whether what the maiden saw in front of her seemed like anything approaching peaceable. Byakuren, for her part, remained silent, her face a mask of stony calm.

"As for the traveler, it behooves me to introduce myself before we talk in earnest. My name is Toyohime, from the house of Watatsuki. You may dispense with the honorifics if you so wish, and call me by my full name – I do not wish for you to trip over formalities."

Her request for me to refer to her by her entire name puzzled me, but I acquiesced. "Then I will do so, Watatsuki no Toyohime."

"I still think it would be better if you-" Miko was cut off by Toyohime, who raised a hand as though to make clear her insistence on the matter. The hermit, who was never one to take orders, bowed in a strangely meek fashion. The more I interacted with Toyohime, the more I realized that she must wield some mysterious yet overbearing influence over both the earthen and lunar realms, whose true form I had yet to discover.

Toyohime, seeing my hesitance, duly proceeded to pull the rabbit out of the hat.

"You are in the political and geographical center of the Lunar Capital: the royal palace," she explained. "I am one of its scions."

My eyebrows shot up. "In other words-"

"I am a princess, yes. Though there is more to me than just my title. As I said, I would rather you referred to me by name."

"I see… Watatsuki no Toyohime."

The princess beamed. "Now that we have that out of the way, I would like all of you to come with me. We shan't get far in our respective tasks if we remain here."

We quietly followed the little princess out of the room, taking care to maintain a respectable distance behind her lest we step on her dainty heels. I had become so accustomed to the egalitarian, meritocratic, and almost anarchic mode of government – if you could call it government – under which Gensokyo's society operated that the notion of a monarchy, with kings and queens and princes and princesses, abruptly seemed like a foreign concept. People were treated with the respect due to them because of what they did, not because of who they are. It was hence strange, and also deeply ironic, that those who lived on the Moon might be more similar to the humans of Earth than those who resided in Gensokyo – which was technically also on Earth. Evidently Gensokyo's separation from the outside world was not only geographical or dimensional; it was also cultural, societal, and above all chronological.

"I have heard much about you, traveler," said the princess as we walked. It was a phrase I had heard many times before, and I had long since grown used to being treated like a celebrity of some sort, though I wasn't exactly sure that I enjoyed the attention. "It is difficult to separate fact from hearsay, given we are separated by such considerable distance, but I think I can exercise sagacious enough judgment to tell when a rumor is far too outlandish to be true. Some have said you do not sleep, and spend every hour of the day walking about, conversing with birds and consuming the grass. What a flight of fancy! I must admit, I had to laugh when one of my advisors whispered that modicum of rubbish into my ear."

"You would be most correct in thinking that I do sleep," I assured Toyohime, "and that I do not talk to birds or eat grass. Though I must admit, my slumber has been disturbed occasionally as of late, thanks to… dreams."

"Ah, yes. Dreams. Thankfully, we have with us an expert on the subject." Toyohime abruptly halted, and the rest of us scrambled to prevent ourselves from falling forwards and onto the princess's petite form. "Has Doremy advised you on our current situation?"

"I… have not, regretfully," Doremy replied. "I thought it best that a Lunarian provide them with the information."

"Your intuitions are sound, as always." Toyohime placed a hand on the wall, and a line was suddenly drawn from the ceiling to the floor, with two small handles on either side of the divide. I noticed that Toyohime no longer looked at all chipper – a crease had appeared on her tiny forehead, and in that moment she seemed to bear all the weight of her regal prerogative upon her thin shoulders.

"Beyond this door is the Lunar Capital, the center of all that happens on the Moon," Toyohime explained. "I must warn you, however – this place is no longer as you once imagined. Much has occurred since you were last here. I bid you prepare yourselves for an unpleasant sight."

She drew the doors open. As the white wash of the Moon's light poured in, I beheld what had been hidden from human eyes for so long. I was not sure what I expected to see, but it most definitely was not what greeted me now.

At first glance, it appeared as though the entire metropolitan area of one of the larger cities on Earth had been transported to the Moon. There were networks of streets lined with buildings and houses, some over a dozen stories high, with people walking about the slabs of shiny rock that had been paved over the Moon's surface. Yet the blanket of low-rises was punctured – with alarming frequency – by huge spires of silver and gray stretching hundreds of meters tall, spindling all the way into deep space, reaching out for a planet they knew they could never touch. On the exterior one of these nearby spires, I could see a glass elevator trundling upwards towards an observation deck at the top level, as though the whole complex were merely one of those vanity skyscrapers that had been built by humans to showcase their economic strength to the rest of the world. Whatever was going on here, it was immediately clear that in many ways, the development of the Lunarians was equal to – if not ahead of – that of those who dwelled on the blue dot hovering hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, ignorant to the fact that their supposed technological superiority was being challenged right under their very noses.

However, it was also soon obvious that not all was as it seemed. In the distance, I could see multiple pillars of smoke rising from the giant clusters of apartments, and the faint glow of red fire was cast against their bland gray facades. There was also an unusually loud hum of activity emanating from those areas – the sounds of what seemed like magicians fighting, with booms and blasts and bangs all melting into one barely audible cacophony, could be heard.

The others quickly noticed the disturbances as well. "What's going on?" asked Marisa worriedly.

Toyohime sighed. "I… It is hard to put our current circumstances into words. We have always believed peace in this realm to be our absolute priority, and the Lunarian Defence Corps – of which I and my sister are the leaders – have been maintaining that peace for hundreds of years. But harmony dulls the blades of warriors, and we were not awake to the threat that lay beyond our borders when it arrived. Before we knew it, a full third of the city had been absorbed into the conflict."

"What conflict do you speak of?" Miko pressed. "Who is fighting?"

"Two days ago, a great army composed of faeries, daemons, and youkai of the most undesirable kind were summoned within the barrier that protects us from the unhospitable elements of the Moon. We had grown lax in our patrols, and we did not anticipate that any enemies would appear from within, rather than from without." Toyohime put a hand to her temples and massaged them. "This is my failure. I cannot – I must not – exacerbate that failure further."

"A large group of youkai inside the barrier. Such a thing would normally not be possible." Reimu pursed her lips. "But who sent them? Do you know their identity?"

"Only too well." Toyohime gritted her teeth. "Our sworn adversary, one who has already tried to subjugate us once before. We should have been more careful. We should have known that they would try again."

Reimu's eyes widened. "In other words-"

"We are at war with Hell for the second time, Reimu Hakurei." Toyohime turned to stare at us, her intense expression simultaneously forlorn, desperate, and wrathful. "Junko has come back for her revenge."

The royal palace proper – from which the guest room we arrived into had been detached – was an imposing structure that looked to be the only truly traditionally-constructed building in the Lunar Capital, the jade eaves on its roof protruding outwards, pointing towards the realm over which its residents presided. Though only standing a few stories high, the royal palace's elevation, isolation and unique build made its nominal importance patently clear. It was built on a tall rocky outcrop overlooking the Lunar Capital, which an unusual sight in itself due to the mostly planar and flat surface of the rest of the Moon – though I surmised that if they could find a way of building apartments on the Moon, they could very well do other things that might seem impossible to us Earth-dwellers. In many ways, the make of the palace reminded me of Eientei, and I wondered if the similarities between the two structures were mere coincidence, or perhaps the result of something more deliberate, conscious or otherwise.

We trudged up the white steps and came face-to-face with a pair of guards standing at the door. They were the first male faces I had seen outside of the Human Village, though their expressions were – unlike those of the people at the Village – stoic and not at all welcoming. Nevertheless, they bowed upon seeing their princess and the guests she had in tow, easing the double doors open to allow us to enter.

The grand lobby of the palace was reminiscent of a hotel I had visited once, though like with all my other memories, I could not remember exactly where that was or when I had been there. Two gradually spiraling stairs swept upwards to a mezzanine overhang, guarded by golden and red bannisters on each flank. A delicately-carved pattern of a great dragon was spread out on the tiled floor, cast in marble, its flaming eyes pocked with diamonds and rubies, its claws gleaming silver. The walls, composed of the same bamboo sheets as the guest room, were covered in calligraphic designs and paintings depicting flowing streams and hilly mountains, suggesting a distant nostalgia and sentiment for the environs of a planet they might have once called home. A row of chandeliers hung from the gold-plated ceiling, rings upon rings of candles surrounding central braziers that flickered slightly as the meager air from without blew into the chamber upon our entry.

Truly a place fit for a king or queen, let alone the dainty princess who now strolled across the dragon as though this entire show of extravagance were her personal property. Which, of course, it technically was.

We clambered up the leftmost staircase, then followed Toyohime down a long corridor that – again, much like Eientei's own interior – weaved and twisted for a longer time than one would have expected considering the size of the palace when viewed from outside. It was a big place, to be sure, but not this big.

Before I could ask whether any space-warping magic had been applied to the palace, we stopped in front of an open doorway. Upon seeing who was inside, Toyohime beamed brightly, her smile of courtesy widening into a genuine look of joy that emanated directly from the heart.

"Yorihime!" she exclaimed. "You're awake!"

"Of course I'm awake," came the irritated reply. "I can hardly afford to sleep given the circumstances."

As we entered, we saw who Toyohime had been talking to: a girl who seemed at first blush to be the spitting image of Toyohime, though the longer I looked, the more the differences began to stand out – for instance, mauve hair instead of Toyohime's brand of blond, tied into a ponytail instead of being allowed to hang carelessly. She caught me staring at her, and her mien of vexation was etched deeper into her smooth young features.

"What are you looking at?" she scowled.

I blinked furiously and looked away, quickly realizing what the similarities between the princess and this new person actually meant. "Nothing. I apologize."

"This is my younger sister," Toyohime explained, though I had already garnered that much from their strikingly similar appearances. "Her name is Yorihime of the house of Watatsuki. Please excuse any lack of decorum – I promise she is a good girl at heart."

"You don't have to make any excuses for me, Toyohime. I'm not a kid anymore," said Yorihime, whose small frown and cute pout nevertheless made her look far more her apparent age than Toyohime did. I caught myself before I smiled the sort of patronizing smile that adults might reserve for misbehaving children – Yorihime might be small, but she was, like her sister, undoubtedly powerful in a political sense. Just how powerful she was in a magical sense, however, was something I would only come to learn much later.

We took our seats again in a similar formation as before, with Doremy and Reisen standing behind us, though I somehow now found myself sitting next to Yorihime. She shot me a glance that suggested I would be better off groveling in the dirt underneath her tiny feet, and shuffled away from me so she could lean on Toyohime's shoulder.

Toyohime cleared her throat. "I will allow you to meet my parents in the morrow – I am sure they will be delighted to see you here. They may even ask you for a certain favor with regards to the war effort, if you would be so predisposed, and rest assured you will be rewarded amply should you accept. For now, however, I bid you take all the rest you require and enjoy what hospitality we have to offer. I will arrange for you to occupy the spare bedrooms – at least, those of you that can actually sleep," she added, waggling her eyebrows at Doremy, who snorted in response. "We also have a hot spring in the underground level, which I will show you to in the eve."

"What I want to know," interjected Yorihime before Toyohime could speak further, "is what she's doing here." She jabbed a finger at Reisen, whose bunny ears shot up upon the mention of her name. Hopping hastily behind Doremy, Reisen peered warily over the dream eater's shoulder, having evidently expected to never be called upon, not least by one who wielded such authority.

"What do you mean? Our dear pet has returned to the Moon after some time away. Do you not rejoice?" Toyohime asked quizzically.

"Our former pet," Yorihime replied pointedly. "She left us and absconded to Earth. We have our own, current Reisen to take care of."

"It is as you say, but a modicum of compassion would not go amiss." Toyohime rose to her feet and went over to Reisen, reaching up to rub the rabbit girl on the head. Reisen closed her eyes and leaned into Toyohime's outstretched palm. "I apologize for Yorihime's attitude, Reisen. She longs for you dearly, even if she does not want to admit it in front of the rest of us."

"I do not," huffed the younger sister.

"Forgive me for cutting in," I said before I could stop myself, "but when you refer to a pet, are you talking about… Reisen?"

Toyohime tilted her head, as though not quite understanding the question. "Who else could we be talking about?"

"I mean…" I struggled to put my confusion into words. "She's a person, not a pet. Humanoid, yes, but a person nonetheless."

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned to find Miko staring at me. She had a strange, wide-eyed expression on her face that made it seem as though she had something she desperately wanted to tell me, but was prevented from doing so due to some intangible yet unseen force that was keeping her lips sealed. As my eyes met hers, she silently shook her head.

"Take the hint," she seemed to be saying.

I nodded slowly and looked back at the two lunar princesses, both of whom shared the same look of bemusement on their faces.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Forget I asked."

Toyohime shrugged nonchalantly, though her puzzlement did not immediately abate. "Anyway, I shall leave you to your own devices until the evening bell rings – Yorihime and I have a meeting with our advisors to attend to. I will join you again for dinner. As for matters regarding the ongoing battle, and our mutual history with Hell…" The princess eyed me as she spoke, apparently wondering if I might end up asking any more inappropriate questions. "I am minded to think they can wait for now. I do not wish to rush you into a conflict that is not of your own making. Now then, if you will excuse us."

With that, the two sisters rose and glided swiftly out of the room. As they left, all the tension that had accompanied them seemed to depart as well – I could see a few shoulders sagging slightly as the door shut, not least Miko's and Marisa's, the latter of whom reached over and tugged on my ear for the second time in as many hours.

"Ow!" I said as the familiar pain in my earlobe was abruptly restored.

"Would it hurt you to show some respect in front of lunar royalty?" the witch hissed. "Watatsuki no Yorihime looked like she wanted to murder you!"

"Marisa is correct," Miko added, though she managed to appear a little more sympathetic than Marisa did. "You should not have spoken out of line. Regardless, what's done is done. I understand your reluctance to refer to Reisen as a pet or slave, but you must understand that the culture of the Moon is different in many respects to that of modern Earth – though, given the outside world's history with slavery, I would also note that sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"I must ask…" We turned to Reimu, whose face was creased in an unusual anxiety. "Traveler, is everything alright with you? I know you to be inquisitive, but not… foolhardy. Not like this."

"I…" I bit my lip. It was a fair question to ask – looking back on what I had done in the past few weeks, I had not exactly exercised my fair share of caution. From traveling to the Furnace without telling the others, to spiriting myself into the Dream World on my own volition, the acts of daring I had committed seemed less and less justifiable. I could not exactly say why I had done what I had done, and no reasonable excuses sprang to mind – I could not blame boredom, nor seek refuge in ignorance. Now that I had become sufficiently seasoned in the ways of Gensokyo, albeit through something of a baptism by fire, I ought to be more restrained, more careful about what I said and did. Yet somehow I was throwing myself more and more into the deep end, with an alarming disregard for my own safety. The least I could say for now was that, if anything, I was simply being naïve about how well I actually knew Gensokyo, and I was doing little more than relying on good fortune and dumb luck in order to remain out of harm's way.

"Perhaps you need some rest," Byakuren offered. "I have not seen you for some time, but it is apparent to me that you have approached your travels at a feverish pace, more so than most mortals would be able to bear without sacrificing something fundamental in return. I, too, have been a frequent victim of my own perseverance, and I have eventually learned the value of respite. I hope you can do so before you fall prey to your own conscientiousness."

"That's something we agree on, I'd say," Miko chirped approvingly. "Maybe I have been working you too hard these past couple of weeks. I hear the lunar royal palace is home to some of the highest-quality luxuries any mortal realm has on offer. Though I prefer not to partake in such activities myself, you should try and make use of them while you are here."

The others nodded, and a strange sense of relief washed over me. I had spent so much time subconsciously worrying about whether they were annoyed with me that I had not noticed that their annoyance largely stemmed from concern rather than irritation. They wanted the best for me, which obviously involved me getting out of unnecessary trouble. The least I could do was alleviate their worries as much as I could.

"You're right." I smiled, and they reciprocated the expression. "Thank you. I'm sorry for worrying you."

"You better be." Marisa crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks, though she could not prevent the grin from breaking out on her own face. The weight in my chest lifted even further.

Behind us, Doremy coughed. "If that's all for today…"

"Right, yes," Reimu said hurriedly. "That should be all – I think we can handle matters from here. Thank you ever so much for escorting us here."

"Not a problem. I'll see you tonight… even if you don't see me." Doremy winked, and tugged on Reisen's arm. Before the rabbit girl could even muster a protest, they had blinked out of existence, returning to the shadowy realm of dreams whence we had come.

The remaining five of us glanced at each other.

"Let's take it easy for now," Marisa suggested. "Should we have a look around?"

As we wandered through the halls, I noticed that the royal palace – which was ostensibly called the Moon Palace, as evinced by some of the signage we encountered during our traipse through the lengthy corridors – was redolent of another palace that I had visited some time ago: the Palace of Earth Spirits, located in the dimensional underbelly of Gensokyo. Though they might be separated by vast spatial and chronological distances, both structures bore more similarities than differences. They were both massive complexes, they were both built in the traditional Japanese aesthetic, and their hallways were mostly deserted – though we did run into the occasional helper or royal advisor every other minute or so, who would bow to us as we walked past.

The reminiscences didn't end there, however. As we found ourselves in front of a large red door, we pushed it open to discover the courtyard quadrangle that formed the nexus of the Moon Palace, surrounded on all four sides by four- or five-story edifices, all of which had overlooks from which the courtyard could be observed. And observed it was – each enclave had at least two guards standing vigil, facing the open expanse, staring intently at something in the dead center of the precinct. Above us, all that could be seen was the overwhelming blackness of space, pocked once in a while by stars, but otherwise looking very much like the eternal night of Former Hell that had greeted me in the courtyard of the Palace of Earth Spirits. Even though the sun dutifully cast its rays over the marble-like surface of the Moon, the lack of atmosphere outside the barrier enclosing the Lunar Capital meant that the rest of the sky was utterly devoid of color.

A land that knew only night. It was a lonely sight, made even more so by the solitary figure that sat in the pavilion at the intersection of the paved stones leading into the center of the courtyard, towards whom the guards' stares were unwaveringly fixated. She was hidden in the shade, and her appearance was completely obscured until we drew near enough to see her visage in full.

Her fluttering eyelashes fanned her eyelids as she looked up at us. Her eyes were crystalline, otherworldly, as though her irises were colorless diamonds cut to scatter the light that entered into infinitesimal sparkling points. Her lips were an island of two small pink crests on the otherwise undisturbed surface of her countenance.

"Welcome to the Lunar Capital," she breathed, her voice held aloft in the still, windless air.

We bowed in greeting, sensing that whoever this person was, she was of a similar importance to the princesses who had just hosted us. I felt the irresistible urge to ask her identity, but after my many gaffes in the past few days, I ultimately decided it would be best to keep silent for now. My gaze met that of the ethereal woman, and she smiled.

"I have much time for mortals and for Earthlings, but I have never laid eyes upon one such as yourself," she said. "You are magical, but your magic is imprisoned. You desire much, but you can never fulfill those desires. You travel frequently, but you have no destination."

I blinked in surprise. "How did you… Yes, you are correct."

"I have seen much during my time alive. Years pass like dust in the wind, but I have never forgotten those that I have met, nor have I forgotten their wishes for their own lives. Before me I find limitation," – she said as she stared at Byakuren, who pursed her lips – "ambition," – she turned to Miko – "devotion," – Reimu – "and emotion," – Marisa. "All living beings are multi-faceted in their perspectives," she continued, "but all give themselves to the eternal pursuit of a purpose beyond their own meager forms. And you, male human, are no different."

Her abstract vernacular and indirect manner of speech were beginning to sow confusion in my already-beleaguered mind, but I nonetheless nodded. "I… see."

"Incarceration is a state of mind. Your companion and friend knows that better than any other," she said, motioning to Byakuren. Byakuren's face fell, but she did not respond. "Your body may be chained; your soul may be shackled. But as long as your mind is free, you can go anywhere you wish. And you have been doing so, have you not?"

"How do you know all this?" I had to ask.

The woman smiled, her mouth a line stretched taut across her slender face.

"Gods have a knack of discovering things they ought not be discovering, as so it proved when I cast aside my mortality. For the sake of a love I now know to be misplaced, I took the cleansing fire upon my own body, and for the sin of living beyond my mortal means I was condemned to spend my infinite years within these walls. You have met another, like I, who will live to see the end of this universe, and yet derives no joy from it."

It would be hard not to recognize who she was talking about. After all, Princess Kaguya was the sole reason we were all the way out here, on a cold barren sphere of rock hundreds of thousands of kilometers away from the world we knew. I had heard the story of how Kaguya had become immortal from Reisen, but I doubted that the person before me, enigmatic and vague as she was, would be so forthcoming with her divulgations.

"Immortality is no blessing," the woman added with a sigh. "Value is a gift bestowed only upon the finite. When something does not die, it does not truly live, either. And I have not lived ever since my lips first touched the nepenthe."

"You partook of the Hourai Elixir as well?" Miko queried.

"I did. Though not for the same selfish reason as that of the Lunarian princess. It was an act of sacrifice, not self-serving. Yet the universe cares little for motive – the outcome is all that matters. Even gods cannot escape the burdens that beset all who set foot on the great journey of life."

I was tempted to ask about her statement, but I again felt it prudent to allow her to divulge whatever she wished to on her own volition. And so it proved that the answers to my questions were soon to come.

"Pardon me – I have neglected to introduce myself." She rose to her feet, and the silken robes she wore, patterned with swathes of white orchids and pink lilies, billowed around her feet as she clasped her hands together. "I am the god of the Moon – or at least, I was. I go by the name of Chang'e."

I had heard of her. Much like Kaguya, Chang'e was a figure of oriental myth, of a tale told and lost in time, whose existence I had never contemplated, much less imagined I would end up confirming. Yet here she stood, serene and beautiful in all her lunar glory, another fantastical entity in a world full of such preternatural aberrations. In fact, the only thing that surprised me now was the ease with which I accepted the truth of what I was witnessing.

Questions begot more questions, and I finally felt it necessary that my curiosities were sated, given how far she had led us on with her words. "If you are not a god now," I asked, "then what are you?"

The corner of her lip flattened slightly, and her smile took on a more sorrowful glow.

"As I said, immortality invariably robs all things of value. I myself am no different." She gestured to the guards stationed in their posts above the courtyard. "Do you see those palace guards?"

We nodded.

"They are not observing me to keep me safe. Their only remit is to prevent me from escaping. I am allowed a certain amount of time per day to rest in this courtyard; the other time is spent in my room, which has long since become my jail. I, who was once a god, am now little more than a prisoner."

"But… how can this be? How can such a thing be done to a god, of all beings?"

"All power comes with a duty to use it well," Chang'e replied solemnly. "In a universe where finitude is part of the natural fabric of existence, there is no graver sin than eternal life."

She sighed, and her thin lips grew thinner still. In that moment, it seemed as though she bore the weight of all the years, decades, centuries that she had spent awake, existing for all time, but never once truly living. In that moment, we saw the price that had been paid, etched into every invisible crease, every unseen line, that her immortality had wantonly banished from her perennially youthful face.

"Why should gods be the exception to the rule?" she asked, seemingly rhetorically, but also with a tinge of desperation in her voice.

And to that question, we had no answer.

Given that the speed of the Moon's rotation remained synchronous with that of its orbit around its mother planet, the pale blue dot that was our Earth remained in the same location in the sky at all times, rendering it little more than one of the many pinpricks that hung motionlessly above our heads. The month-long period of the Moon's orbit also meant that the sun could not be counted on to dictate the lengths of each day. As a result, it fell to a clock tower adjacent to the royal palace to announce the current time to the Lunar Capital's denizens every hour, chiming once for each hour from noon until midnight, at which point the people would be spared the nuisance of having the bell go off in the middle of their slumber. As Lunarian physiology and culture was similar to that of Earthlings, they too followed a twenty-four-hour daily schedule just as we did.

Six chimes rang through the corridors. Six o'clock descended upon our first day on the Moon.

We were guided by a retainer to the dining hall, where the two princesses were already sat at the end of the spindly table that stretched from one end of the room to another. Upon the table was spread a cornucopia of the best food the Moon had to offer, arranged and displayed in intricate fashion, a feast in every sense of the word. I barely had time to wonder how the lobsters and mussels in front of me had made their way here when I was ushered to a seat – not coincidentally, I surmised – next to Watatsuki no Toyohime. Her sister, Yorihime, stared daggers at me as I quietly eased myself into the tall ebony wooden chair, the back of which rose several feet higher than even my own height at full stretch. Not for the first time, I felt smaller than I had ever done in my meager lifetime.

"Many thanks for coming to dinner at such short notice," Toyohime said as she stood to face us. "I understand you were eager to visit the other parts of the Palace, but I felt it best that we sup early and bathe early, so we might also rise early in the morrow. The sooner you are briefed on the intricacies of what is happening, the better."

"Thank you for inviting us to dine with you, and for allowing us to stay at the Palace," Byakuren replied. "I speak for all of us when I say we are deeply grateful for your hospitality. But… I am also compelled to raise an issue of possible contention."

I saw creases begin to form on some of the faces present. Byakuren had been unusually tight-lipped throughout our journey, and when she had spoken, she had clearly been displeased at the amount of time she was being forced to spend away from the Myouren Temple, and from her scions. Whatever she had to say now I feared would only cause more offence to our regal hosts, whose patience I suspected was wearing thin from circumstances both within and without their control.

"I do not know if you are aware, but we have come to discern the truth behind the false image that has shielded the true Moon from view and culled its power on Earth. To put it bluntly, we have not come to fight your battles for you. We cannot dally here as long as our friends and acquaintances, the people of Gensokyo, remain in danger."

"A fair point, Byakuren Hijiri." Toyohime nodded. "Which is why I would like to propose a deal."

"What sort of deal?" Marisa asked.

"You came here for answers, which we can provide. We need help with the invasion, which you can provide. The arrangement I have in mind should not be so difficult to grasp."

"And if we refuse?"

"You are our honored guests, but you also may not leave from this palace, nor the Moon as a whole, without our consent. I do not mind you departing from here, but my parents are… anxious, and not so easily persuaded. Besides, I am assured that you would like to know more about the false Moon, and about what drives the princess – former princess – to the lengths she has gone. You have gone to the considerable trouble of traveling here, after all. It would be a waste to have your efforts rendered fruitless."

"It would," Reimu agreed. "If it is our assistance you seek, then I suggest we apply our powers as best as we can, so we might reach its conclusion post-haste. Byakuren, I apologize – if I had known our journey would have involved something like this, I would not have invited you along."

"It is not your fault, Reimu. It is as you say – we have but one option to choose from." Byakuren shot one last pointed glance at the two princesses before sitting back down, making it patently clear whose feet she lay the blame at.

"Now then." Toyohime clapped, as though attempting to dispel the tension. "Let us dig in."

I was more than happy to do so, as were the rest of us. I had not eaten since the night before, but somehow my hunger had been curbed until I could actually smell the hearty aroma from the food in front of my plate. It was likely that all the excitement of the day's events had caused me to forget my hunger, but whatever had been forgotten had now most certainly been remembered again. We duly began consuming our meals with gusto.

As we ate, I noticed in the corner of my eye that Watatsuki no Toyohime, who ate remarkably little compared to her sister's mammoth portions of meat and seafood, was staring at me. I placed my knife and fork down and turned to her.

"Did you need something, Your High… Watatsuki no Toyohime?"

For the briefest of moments, the princess did not reply, instead continuing to gaze thoughtfully at me. Just as I was about to repeat my question, she cut me off.

"You spoke to Chang'e today, did you not?"

"I… we did."

"She seemed particularly interested in you," Toyohime noted.

"From my experience, she is not the only one." I paused. "How did you know this?"

"My guards keep me informed, of course. I lead the Lunarian Defence Corps, and the guards of the royal palace are but one department of many under my purview."

"And they are also the ones fighting the… invaders from Hell?"

"They are. I would have all of you meet some of their number in the morrow, so you might appraise their strength. But back to the topic at hand – what did Chang'e tell you? Nothing especially discouraging, I hope."

"Not really," I said. "She laments her current situation."

"As she should. In our society, there is no crime greater than the one she has committed. Transcending the mortal plane via unnatural means cannot – and will not – be tolerated."

"Why is that?"

"The answer is not complicated, but requires a certain degree of knowledge about faith, and about magic. How much do you know about the intricacies of Shinto?"

The abrupt mention of religion took me by surprise. "Not much more than Reimu Hakurei has told me about. In other words, very little." I snuck a peek at Reimu, who perked up upon hearing her name, but did not press us as to why we were talking about her. She shrugged and returned to her food, and I looked back towards Toyohime, who nodded understandingly.

"The tenets of Shinto are simple, yet fundamental. Within all things, living or unliving, lies a spirit. Some call it a god, with the body as the temple where it is worshipped; some call it a property or characteristic, like cleanliness, naturalness, or purity. It is from this spirit that Lunarian magic is drawn. This, of course, includes the barrier that has protected us from the harsh, unforgiving environs of the outside world. Our lives, and our very survival, relies solely on the strength of the spirit as it resides within things."

"And immortality somehow reduces or vitiates that spirit?"

"You catch on quickly. As you undoubtedly know, death is an inherent part of all objects. Rocks are eroded and broken into dirt; metal rusts and wears away; plants shrivel and wilt; animals fall ill and perish. That which is allowed to follow its natural course and die is pure, untainted. That which attempts to defy death, therefore, is impure. Each contravention of nature's laws within the Lunar Capital chips away at the shield that prevents us from losing the air we breathe to the endless void of space. Not even the smallest infringement can be allowed. We simply cannot afford it."

I noticed that the sounds of silverware clinking against ceramic plates had ceased, and I found the others staring at us, listening intently to our conversation.

My eyes met Reimu's, and she coughed.

"What the princess says is correct, to my knowledge," commented the shrine maiden. "Her explanation applies to all barriers – even the one that shrouds the entirety of Gensokyo. As such, my work in youkai extermination is an extension of my duties towards my god, towards my people, and towards Shinto as a whole. Impurities must regularly be cleansed from Gensokyo, or Gensokyo itself, too, will cease to be."

As Reimu spoke, I was suddenly struck by the realization that, though I had spent such a lengthy period of time in the company of Reimu, I had never once thought to ask about her religion, or what distinguished it from Taoism and Buddhism, two belief systems with which I had grown considerably familiar over the past few weeks. Byakuren's and Miko's respective beliefs were vital in their own ways, and I understood the merits of each, but they perhaps did not substantially contribute to the maintenance of the realm in the manner that Shinto did. A short talk with Toyohime was all it took for the true importance of her religion to be impressed upon me.

There was no greater source of magic than faith, or so a certain hermit had once told me. Evidently, the simplest of faiths could also be the most powerful.

"Please finish your meals," Toyohime said hurriedly, jolting us out of our thoughts. "We will need all the respite we can muster. A long day awaits us yet."

I steeped my weary body into the hot water, letting the prickly liquid crawl over my skin, soaking the pores, reddening the flesh. I felt my worries wash away into the steamy deluge, the mildly sulfuric tang of the vapor filling my nostrils as I sank deeper and deeper into bliss.

It had been a while since I had visited a hot spring. The baths at the tavern in the Human Village were… functional, to put it politely. A big tub half-filled with lukewarm water was the best I could hope for on most occasions, and once in a while a youkai intrusion or some other temporary inconvenience meant that I would have to go the day without washing myself. In the outside world, I would have taken such a luxury for granted, but a return to the somewhat medieval environs of Gensokyo meant that there were certain technological discrepancies I simply had to get used to – though my lack of any concrete memories helped expedite the process.

I let the water seep up to my nose, blowing bubbles contentedly in the steamy water. Miko hadn't been lying when she'd said that this palace had some of the best relaxation facilities on offer. Closing my eyes, I drifted into a warm, sensuous limbo.

"How is the water?"

My eyes shot open, and I instinctively pulled the towel on my forehead down over my lower body as I stood, dragging myself away from the comfortable embrace of the piping-hot water.

"P… princess?!"

"My name is Watatsuki no Toyohime. I thought I already told you to call me that."

"Sorry… Watatsuki no Toyohime." The princess's complete lack of embarrassment threw me off-guard, and I could do little else but retreat quietly back into my area of the spring. Toyohime eased herself into the space across from me, at a distance where I could barely see her slender outline, but precious little else. I couldn't tell if she had been conditioned to not feel any semblance of shame around people of the opposite gender, or if she was merely deigning to play a regal prank of sorts on me. From behind the thick shroud of smoke, it was hard to tell.

"Have you… not bathed yet?" I asked. "I did not expect you to be here at this time of night."

"Unfortunately not. The day's events have occupied me greatly, and I was allowed no time to rest. I surmise that you were told the bath would be free, and so was I. It is an unremarkable coincidence that we would both be here. Nothing more."

"Right, yes. It is as you say."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I suspected she was enjoying the hot spring just as much as I was – or at least, as much as I had been.

"I have been meaning to speak with you since we met this morning," she finally said.

"Did we not just do so at dinner?"

"Privately, not in front of the Gensokyo folk. And now seems like as good a time as any. Perhaps it is fate that has brought us here."

So much for coincidence, then. "What more would you like to talk about?"

"Plenty. Humanity has changed much since our kind was split between Lunarian and Earthling. We are different in our ways, but we are ultimately of one blood. You have tried to reach us, here on this lonely rock, with little avail; we have never desired to return the favor. So, I would like you to tell me about Earth."

"Do your advisers not inform you about what we do? Also, I am not sure if you have heard, but I am an amnesiac. My memories of my life beyond the Barrier are all gone."

"My advisors are Lunarians, and their knowledge is as Lunarian as my own. And clearly not all of your memory is gone, or you would have retained none of your faculty for language, nor your notions of courtesy. My suspicion is that very particular pieces of your memory have been taken from you, and that should they be returned, your full memories would come flooding back."

"If it were so easy." I sighed. "I assume you have something to ask me about the outside world, then."

"Quite right. Specifically about something that you Earthlings specialize in. Something which you have had abundant practice with, and we have not."

"What would that be?"

"War, of course," came the reply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You fight more battles in a month than we have done throughout our entire history. Surely you remember certain details about how they are conducted, or what needs to be done during such conflicts? If you recall anything, I would ask that you share it with me."

Though my old self had apparently never lived in a nation at war, I could remember bits and pieces of things that I had read or seen, floating around my headspace in a disorganized and arbitrary manner much like my other memories. Hulking ships shuddering with the sonorous force of their cannons. Planes screeching overhead, depositing unrelenting barrages of explosives upon burning rubble. Men running through strafing gunfire and deafening artillery, knowing they would likely end up getting struck and torn to shreds, but nonetheless venturing ahead into certain death.

Toyohime noticed that I had fallen silent. "Traveler?" she asked.

"War is… horrifying." I shook my head. "It tears families apart, drives whole countries into the ground, and leaves scars that can never be healed."

"How so?"

"How…" A wave of incredulity briefly surged through my heart, though it was quickly tempered by an understanding that the Lunarians, much like those who dwelled in Gensokyo, had been separated from the outside world for so long that there were many aspects of the modern era that were simply beyond their comprehension. They were technologically advanced, and were not primitive or ignorant by any means, but differences in experience always corresponded with differences in perspective.

"In the world I knew," I said, "we once had a war that spanned the entire planet. It was a sight to behold, though not one that we ever want to have repeated. Every effort possible was expended towards the killing of others, towards the subjugation of enemies who were just like ourselves. And we became increasingly proficient at war, but in doing so, we also realized the value of peace."

"Yes, I know that much," Toyohime said offhandedly, to my unspoken annoyance. "That is why I am coming to you for advice. How do we defeat that which seeks to destroy us? How do we crush their will to fight?"

"Sometimes violence is not the answer to those questions. But only a people who have been at war would know that." I frowned. "I know you promised more information tomorrow, but given what you just asked, there are also some things I need to know right now. Who are the invaders? Why are they invading? And above all, who is Junko?"

This time, it was Toyohime's turn to fall silent. She shifted around in the water, causing uneven ripples to appear from beneath the smoke. Then, she spoke, her tone of voice now much more solemn than before.

"I will tell you a story, one that you ought to have heard from the mouth of Chang'e. The Lunar Capital was once ruled by two gods: Houyi, master of archery, and his wife Chang'e, master of the Moon and of all the moon rabbits. Houyi had been known for his exploits in killing and defeating many mythical beasts and divine figures, one of which included the offspring of a certain denizen of Hell. That denizen swore vengeance against Houyi, and against all that he loved. And so she bided her time, building her army and gathering her forces, waiting for the right time to strike.

"Meanwhile, though Houyi had conquered many great evils and led his people into safety and prosperity, his ego and pride had become twisted over the course of his storied life. As his people stopped lauding him for his past deeds, his narcissism slowly corrupted his purpose, turning him from a benevolent ruler into a tyrant and dictator. Yet what was of most concern was the fact that he had acquired an elixir of immortality, an impure concoction that would allow him to continue his tyranny forever if he was allowed to do so. His wife, Chang'e, saw this, and decided to take on the sin of immortality herself, draining the elixir of its contents in place of her husband, all for the sake of the citizens of this realm.

"Having found out what his wife had done, Houyi flew into a rampage, taking his anger out on the people who had once adored him. The Lunarian Defence Corps were forced to intervene, restraining him and keeping him from public view until he eventually died after many centuries, forgotten, alone and in chains. Yet it seems that disseminating the truth of his passing was a poor idea in hindsight – upon hearing the news, the aforementioned denizen of Hell, who had been waiting all this time, finally made her move. And so began the first Lunarian War." Toyohime chuckled. "Not that I remember it, anyway – it ended long before I was born. The house of Watatsuki have ruled the Lunar Capital ever since the war's conclusion, and we have known nothing but peace… until today."

"And that denizen of Hell is Junko?"

"The one and only. She is one of the more powerful figures there, particularly since Hell was transported to its new location. As the head of the Lunarian Defence Corps – alongside my sister, though as you have seen, she is unfortunately not suited for this sort of business – it falls to me to find a way to foil Junko's latest machinations. If you would help me in the days ahead, then I will be immeasurably grateful."

Hearing those words from the lips of a princess was gratifying, but I wasn't sure I could live up to her apparently lofty expectations. "I… do not really know what I can do for you. I cannot use my magic, and I am not a strategist. Your advisors would be of much more use than I."

"My advisors do not assist me on military matters. Not even my parents grant me any help, as they have their own issues to attend to. No-one else here possesses the knowledge required for such tasks – I am the only person in this palace who is responsible for organizing the Lunarian Defence Corps. Yet an all-out battle on this scale is somewhat beyond my usual purview, I must admit. I was hoping you might be able to offer me some alternate viewpoints on the situation. I… have no-one else left to turn to."

That last sentence was spoken with a barely detectable quiver in her voice. She was powerful, precocious, a worthy scion of the royal house. But she was still a child, and hers was a mantle that bore heavily on her small shoulders. It was easy to forget that when she was her typically assured self, yet the silhouette I saw in front of me now was petite, delicate, and overly well-protected from the horrors of the world.

I suddenly felt a burgeoning sense of relief. Maybe I would be able to justify my jaunt here on the Moon after all. It was a somewhat selfish thought, given all the trouble I had put my friends through, but I knew I could not simply lay back and rest if there was something I could do to make myself useful. An opportunity to make amends – both to my companions, and to myself – had appeared before me, and I would be foolish not to take it.

"Then, if you will have me," I said, "I will gladly assist you, Watatsuki no Toyohime."

"Thank you ever so much." The princess clapped, and I could just about see her smile beaming out through the fog. "Now that the matter is settled, I will take my leave for now – I will see you in the morrow."

She abruptly rose, and I averted my gaze again, waiting until her footsteps had faded out of earshot before I also stood and left the bath, now feeling a lot more refreshed and reinvigorated than I had initially envisaged. A frisson of excitement accompanied the tingle of cold air that stiffened the hair on my limbs…

…Until I opened the door to the changing room and found the princess sitting there, fully uncovered, drying herself with a towel. In my giddiness, I had forgotten that she, too, needed to clothe herself. She stared at me, and I tried my best not to stare back before closing the door with a quiet snap and covering my face with my hands.

"Maybe I will not have you advise me, after all," huffed the muffled voice through the door.

"I… apologize." It was all I could manage in the circumstances.

An entertained giggle followed. "Only jesting. It is no matter. I hope you enjoyed what you saw."

Somehow, her absence of embarrassment only served to increase my own.

The following day was a flurry of hustle and bustle that swept me off my feet as I was pushed from location to location with little room for rest. After a quick bath and breakfast, we were guided towards the main chamber where the masters of the house of Watatsuki, the parents of Toyohime and Yorihime, awaited us.

As instructed beforehand, we bowed as we entered, moving past the columns of retainers and guards lining the walls on either side of the room, before halting and kneeling several paces in front of the steps leading up to the marble platform where the king and queen of the Lunar Capital sat. The king, who was positioned to the left of his consort, nodded approvingly and bade us rise.

"I bid you welcome to the Lunar Capital, and to the Moon Palace," said the king. "I hope my daughter has treated you well thus far, and informed you of our current predicament."

"She has, Your Majesty," replied Reimu, who played the part of our spokesperson. A natural choice, given her inherent poise and familiarity with different forms of courtesy.

"Then I will be brief, as every minute is worth its weight in gold. Junko, our mortal enemy, has invaded our realm for the second time in our history. Our magical defences remain strong, but centuries of harmony and relative peace have dulled our blades. I am convinced that, with your collective expertise in youkai extermination, you would prove invaluable in assisting our endeavors to drive the intruders back to whence they came. Of course, should you do us this favor, you will be rewarded with whatever you wish, within reason. What say you?"

"We accept this request, Your Majesty. We are prepared to begin today, if you should desire it."

"Excellent." The king rose from his throne, an ornately-decorated seat covered in gold plate and crimson cushioning, roaring dragons adorning the armrests. "Then I would have you do so. Toyohime will show you to the front lines, and bring you up to speed with matters. Go now."

We bowed again, and turned to leave.

"Earthen traveler. A word, if you would."

I stopped in my tracks. The others continued their trot back towards the entrance, though I saw Miko steal a glance at me from the corner of my eye. She winked, and carried on walking.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" I said as I faced the king.

"I must admit, it is… difficult to see someone like yourself here, in the royal halls." The king tugged at his beard, his bushy eyebrows creased and joined. "Your kind have encroached on our home-world for many a decade, planting flags and leaving waste at our doorstep. I know you cannot be blamed for the trespasses of your people, and I know that they cannot see us, nor the barrier that separates their reality from ours. Nonetheless, their acts insult us, and we feel it deeply."

"Then I apologize on behalf of our people. Unfortunately, Your Majesty…" I paused, wondering how best I ought to reply without offending the highest authority in this land. "That is how us Earthen humans have always been, especially in the modern era."

The king's furrowed brow deepened. "Explain."

"I am not sure how much you are aware of the Earth's affairs, but we have never been particularly adept at taking care of our own home. Skies blackened with soot and dust from factories and vehicles, yet also painted with artificial light from dusk to dawn. Mountains of garbage, strewn all over the land and sea, stretching on as far as the eye can see. That is the state of the Earth as we have known it for the past hundred years and more."

"If what you say is true, then that is a horrifying revelation. How can you stand to live in such a place?"

"Because… despite the hardship, recklessness and malevolence, I believe in the good in people. We all do. Had we not, our way of life as we know it – as I knew it – would have collapsed long ago. Despite all our flaws, all our shortcomings, we still have faith that we can fix our mistakes before the world comes to its end. That is what keeps us going, above all else." I cleared my throat. "Or so I think, anyway."

The king said nothing, instead continuing to peer at my face, scrutinizing my features and my words for the longest of whiles.

"I see in you a hardiness that us Lunarians lack," he finally said. "Perhaps the tribulations you Earthlings have been through have kept your minds and souls sharp. As I told you, our lack of conflict has made us unprepared for the greatest battle of our time. Those of you that live on Earth have known war like a close friend, and yet that, ironically, may be what is needed to keep the peace."

He sighed, a weary expression weighing on his web of wrinkles and graying hair. "I have not confided this in many, but oftentimes I cannot help but wonder whether our destiny is to remain here, on this solitary rock. In spite of our comfortable lives on the Moon, there is a part of us that yearns for Earth, our true home. It is a beautiful planet, after all. I can only hope that you and your people learn how to keep it alive."

I nodded in agreement. "It is as you say, Your Majesty."

"I will not hold you up any longer." He raised a hand and gestured towards the door. "Go. My daughter needs you."

I bowed again, and swiftly departed from the chamber. The other maidens were waiting outside, staring expectantly as I materialized.

"What did he ask of you?" queried Reimu as we followed one of the royal retainers down the hallway.

"Not much in particular. He wanted to know about Earth. About the outside world."

"Don't we all?" Marisa commented. "You must be feeling pretty special. You got a private audience with the Lunarian king."

"Jealous?" I quipped.

"As if." Marisa pulled a face, but couldn't hide her grin. I was happy to see her return to her usually peppy self, though I still wasn't completely sure if she had forgiven me for what I had done. If letting her tease me would help her ease any lingering ill-feeling, then I would be more than happy to allow her to do as she liked.

Toyohime awaited us at the grand lobby, arms folded, eyes fixated on a marble tile on the floor. She glanced up as we approached, a look of relief spreading over her face.

"How was… the meeting?" she asked tentatively.

"It went well," Reimu confirmed. "Nothing to worry about."

"That is good to hear." Toyohime let out a breath as she put her hand on her chest. "Father can be demanding, but he means well. Now then, let us make haste."

We stepped outside, where the blindingly bright pinhole that was the sun bore its shine upon the stark white rock. Unlike on Earth, it was the reflection of the sun's rays on the Moon's surface that provided most of the illumination, which created the illusion that we were standing atop a giant orb of light, its glow being cast outwards into the empty, black void of space. The illusion was only broken by the sight of the Lunar Capital's cityscape, an urban sprawl stretching out into the distance where, once again, the flames of war were being fanned.

Toyohime held a hand out and drew a circle in the air. On command, a wide green ring appeared on the ground, and Toyohime stepped onto it, beckoning us to follow. The moment we were all stood on the glowing disc, it abruptly rose, and us with it. The sudden ascension almost caused me to fall over as my feet were pushed upwards into my legs, but Marisa was quick to slip a hand under my armpit and hoist me upwards.

"I had a feeling you'd stumble," she said as she patted my shoulder.

"You know me too well."

The disc accelerated and trundled forwards at a determined rate, shuttling us over the blanket of concrete roofs, weaving between the needle-like spires that occasionally broke through and raced towards the blackened sky. The viridescent shimmer beneath my feet was mildly transparent, and it caused me no little consternation to find my boots placed on what appeared to be not much more than a magical veneer, with the considerable distance between us and the ground revealing itself all too clearly to me. At least when I sat on Marisa's broom, I had the comfort of knowing that something physical was holding me aloft.

My concerns were, however, soon to be replaced by a different sort of unease.

We gradually approached the outer boundaries of the nominal warzone, where groups of uniformed Lunarians, draped in blue and purple military garb, were either stood at attention, taking in instructions from their squad leaders, or marching up and down the streets, moving in the general direction of where the fighting was heaviest. It was here that I also got my first glimpse of the enemy they were battling – as I watched, a multi-colored sprite zoomed towards a nearby squadron, its six iridescent wings pulled back as it dove into the Lunarians' midst before exploding in a spray of searing fireworks, swatting the Lunarians painfully onto the stone walls and rocky floor. Most of their number returned to their feet as they nursed their injuries. Some remained on the ground, unmoving, and hopefully merely unconscious.

The first thing that had immediately struck me, and still ate at me as we slowed to a halt, was how chaotic everything seemed. There appeared to be little regard for structure or strategy – the Defence Corps went about their business as though they were trying to plug holes in a sieve that was leaking water from every orifice. Whenever they went to deal with one outbreak, the space they vacated was quickly filled by opponents who were far more mobile and far more rapid than they were. Many of them ended up getting trapped in the middle of an intersection and bombarded with magical bullets until, when the dust cleared, all that was left was the sight of Lunarians running away, and the bodies of the unlucky few strewn about the crossroads. There was no method. Only madness.

We landed onto one of the nearby rooftops, where a makeshift headquarters had been established. A Lunarian officer greeted us as we descended, her relief patent as she saw that reinforcements had finally arrived. Strangely enough, despite the impressive setup – with tables, tents and other equipment lined around the area – the officer was the only one there.

"Where are the others?" Toyohime asked as we stepped off the disc.

"They've left to take charge of their respective squadrons, Your Highness," the officer replied. Her gaze fell on me, and her eyes briefly narrowed before she looked away.

"Did I not tell them to stay here?" For the first time since we had met, Toyohime's friendly and welcoming demeanor gave way to a cold, unforgiving vexation. "What compelled them to disobey my orders?"

"The fighting was drawing nearer to our location, so they felt the need to go with-"

"What insolence. The fighting is everywhere, not only here. This central camp must be staffed at all times. Round up the leaders that were stationed here, and bring them back. Go now!" She shooed the officer away, who hurriedly darted away and down the staircase at the far corner of the rooftop.

"I apologize," said the princess as she turned to us. "As you can see, without my presence at hand, things have a certain… proclivity for falling apart. The Lunarian Defence Corps are well-versed in the magical arts, and they can hold their own against any individual foe, but tactical acumen is unfortunately at something of a premium."

"Do not worry, Watatsuki no Toyohime," said Reimu. "We are yours to command whilst we are here. We will do all we can to stem the tide."

Toyohime nodded appreciatively, moving over to one of the tables and unfurling a long paper scroll. "This is a map of the surrounding districts," she said as we crowded around her. "From what I could see just now, the battles have been fiercest here and here." She pointed to two spots on disparate ends of the map. "I would have you assist our forces there, with a pair of you at each location."

"Then I will go with…" Reimu glanced at Marisa briefly before motioning towards Miko. "Toyosatomimi no Miko, if you would join me."

"Gladly." The hermit's momentary look of anxiety quickly smoothed into a smile. And for good reason – if Reimu had enlisted Marisa, it would have left Byakuren and Miko together in one pair, and only heaven knew how that would have gone. Thankfully, it seemed that we would not have to find out.

"Then I will stay here and help the princess," I said. The other maidens nodded and, with mutual wishes of good luck, took off in their respective directions, Reimu and Miko flying off to my left, Byakuren easing herself onto Marisa's broom as they rocketed away towards my right.

"Please follow me." We traversed the same steps that the officer had vanished down just moments before, a stairwell that spiraled through the empty floors of the abandoned building, each footstep echoing around the expanse as we climbed downwards. There were signs that Lunarians had once lived here – a sandal here, a piece of torn fabric there – but whether due to evacuation or some other purpose, only the dust now remained to occupy this space.

At ground level, the situation appeared no better than from the roof. The inadequacies of the Defence Corps were brought into sharper focus as a group of Lunarians ran past us, carrying a member of their fallen brethren in their arms, faces caked with blood and dirt. Their eyes were hollow, staring far away towards a horizon they could not see, as though they had never before witnessed such carnage, such damage. And indeed, they had not.

But the brutal truth of this insofar two-day-long engagement lay further ahead. A medical camp had been set up in the shade of one of the nearby complexes, where people could be seen tending to their comrades. All of the injured were rested on sheets spread haphazardly across the ground, some moaning in pain, some simply lacking the strength to complain. As I watched, a tarpaulin cover was spread over one of those who lay there. The meaning of that gesture was, to my great horror, immediately apparent to me.

The specter of death had never once crossed my vision in Gensokyo – those who resided there knew above all else the value of living. They would do anything within their power to preserve a life that could be saved, even that of their enemy. On the Moon, however, and in this conflict that was like no other I had ever seen, the rules of the game no longer applied. Here, anything went, and anything did go as far as it needed to.

There was no appreciation for the irreplaceable worth of existence. There was only victory, and the sacrifices required to achieve it. Much like how it was on Earth, in times of war.

"Watatsuki no Toyohime, I must ask," I said, feeling a lump grow in my throat. "How many have died so far?"

Toyohime stopped in her tracks and turned, her features as grim as my own, her shoulders slumping noticeably as she spoke.

"Around two hundred," she replied solemnly.

The next few hours were spent waiting on the rooftop, scanning the area for more hostile activity, watching the members of the Defence Corps toil and scurry about the streets like rats, putting out fires they had little hope of extinguishing. The errant officers returned to camp, and they were immediately subject to a biting reprimand by Toyohime. Despite this, the princess ended up sending them away again, mainly due to the fact that their dereliction of duty was not at all unwarranted – the front lines were understaffed and under-supervised, with too many soldiers waiting for orders and too few officers to give them. Most instructions consisted of telling the infantry to do what they thought to be best, which more often than not turned out to be the worst course of action in the circumstances.

Though I said little throughout the course of the morning, the more mishaps and misjudgments I witnessed, the more I wondered how well the princess would take to criticism. She had brought me here to give her advice, but by now I was convinced that nothing short of a total overhaul of the structure of the Lunarian Defence Corps would suffice. I had not been a soldier in my past life – the absence of any memories regarding actual combat or warfare, which would have been quite striking and patent despite the haze that clouded the theater of my mind, made me sure of that. Yet even the most insignificant of salarymen operating in the cesspits of urban society could recognize the value of well-defined hierarchy, of strategic planning, and of effective communication between the echelons of an organization.

No such facets of good governance existed in the scenes that played out before me. It was, to put it bluntly, a mess.

The noon bell tolled faintly, and a recess of sorts was called, though the skirmishes did not cease just so we could have lunch – the enemy were not that kind, and I supposed that they themselves had little need for food or rest, given that they apparently consisted of purely magical entities. Reimu, Marisa, Miko and Byakuren swiftly returned, and we sat down at one of the central camp's many desks.

"I hope you have good news to report," Toyohime said as we began to eat. The meals we were given were a far cry from the luxurious feast of yesterday evening, an onigiri and a bowl of soup being the best choices on offer for us. Army rations, indeed.

Reimu shook her head. "I have to confess, the narrow and oblong terrain has not been conducive towards our efforts. The enemy are scattered, mobile, and use the cover well. I do not wish to destroy the surrounding abodes, but eventually we may have no choice, especially if we are overwhelmed."

"They are all evacuated," Toyohime replied. "You can let fly with whatever level of power you wish."

"Maybe so, but they are still homes. A part of their former occupants' soul still resides within them, and given the precarious nature of the spiritual balance on the Moon, we cannot approach this battle with such wanton abandon. As a fellow observer of Shinto, you would know well of what I speak."

"I suppose." Toyohime stopped chewing on her food and started absentmindedly chewing on her finger instead. "If we cannot hold those districts permanently, then we must find some way of reinforcing the areas around them. But if I reposition the forces I have spread out around the outer third of the city, then we may let some of them slip through. Yet if I take no action, then they may capture those districts, and…" She scratched her head, rubbing some of the rice stuck to her fingers into her golden strands. "It pains me to say this, but I am at a loss as to what to do."

"Then we will simply have to keep on fighting," Miko said, and the others quietly concurred.

Lunch was hastily ended after around twenty minutes, and the four maidens flew back out into the field to do what needed to be done. Toyohime and I stayed behind once again, gazing out at the endless stream of soldiers running to and fro in the streets below, some rushing away to fight, others carrying their comrades back to the medical tents. The chaos was unending, a long chain of oversights and inadequacies that seemed only to multiply, feeding into each other and exacerbating the overarching sense of mayhem and tumult.

It was far too much for me to bear, and I decided I would have to speak up before more lives were needlessly lost. I was not sure if I had the answers, but I could at least try and provide the right questions.

"Princess," I said.

Toyohime did not turn around as she continued surveying the area. "What did I say about using my name?"

"Apologies, Watatsuki no Toyohime."

"Better. What is it?"

"If I may, I have formulated an opinion on what could be done about this situation."

"You have?" Toyohime turned and gave me a perfunctory smile. "I am happy to hear it – I have been waiting all morning for you to say something. Speak freely."

"I feel that, well…" I coughed. "Your approach to this war reflects the training and education of the Lunarian Defence Corps as a whole. They have acted as a patrolling organization all this time, and I am sure they have performed that duty in an exemplary manner. However, that is conversely what hinders them in a fight encompassing the whole city, as opposed to resolving incidents that are isolated and specific in nature. In short, they act like scouts, but what you need is soldiers."

"Enlighten me, then, traveler." Toyohime stared at me intently, as though she were hanging on my every word. "Please, tell me what needs to be done."

"I do not have all the solutions, but perhaps we should start with this. Do you have a means of communicating directly with your subordinates, or at least with your most senior officers?"

"I… somewhat." Toyohime pulled a slip of paper out of her pouch. "This is a carrier shikigami. Words may be written on the paper, and the paper will then fly to its intended recipient. I do not often have the need to use it, but it is there."

"That is good to hear. You may need to arm each of your officers with a large number of these shikigami."

Toyohime tilted her head. "Why is that?"

"In war, there is no greater asset than information. You must know the movement and status of your enemy in real-time, so you may plan counter-attacks and allocate your troops wherever they may be needed. And to do that, your officers must update you on a regular basis about their situation. With all due respect, your failure to do so means that your maps are rendered essentially useless, unless your officers return to report to you personally."

"I see, I see." Toyohime nodded. "Then I will have a shikigami-based communication system implemented in the morrow. They are expensive to make, but such expenses will be necessary. Anything else?"

"There is also a lack of a general chain of command within the Defence Corps," I continued. "There appear to be squad leaders and squad members, but no further levels of hierarchy. On Earth, our armies have multiple ranks and roles, from the private all the way up to the general. Your senior officers should themselves oversee junior officers, instead of each squad leader simply taking care of their own squad."

"But they all report to me anyway," she replied bemusedly. "What would be the use in that?"

"Yes, but a similar flaw as with the lack of communication arises. Sometimes officers must be able to make quick decisions in the field, and it is better that they take orders from a nearby senior officer rather than having to run all the way back to central camp to obtain instructions directly from you. It is a matter of saving time, which in turn may be a matter of life and death."

"Maybe so." The princess frowned, and cast a glance outwards at the city. "The senior squad leaders will have to be re-trained, and their subordinates will have to be assigned to other groups. It may take a couple of days."

"Even one extra level of hierarchy will help," I assured her.

"It will be done, then." Toyohime chuckled, though her laugh was noticeably mirthless. "Our ineptitude must disappoint you. We are advanced in many ways, but so frustratingly primitive in others."

"On the contrary, a nation that has not seen war for centuries is something miraculous to behold." I followed Toyohime in looking out at the rest of the Lunar Capital. "You are far ahead of the Earth at large in the sense that you have learned to live with one another without descending into destructive conflict. It is the same here as it is in Gensokyo, the underworld, and all the awe-inspiring places I have visited thus far. You say you can learn from us, but in truth it is us that should learn from you."

"Well, having to live in fear of discovery by you Earthlings does help smooth things over somewhat." She flashed me a wry smile. "I prefer not to fight if I do not have to, and I am sure my fellow Lunarians feel the same. It is our way."

"That is admirable in itself. Speaking of which," I added, "if I may ask, why do you not fight yourself? Is it to do with your having to take command of everything that transpires here?"

"Partly." Toyohime pressed her lips together. "But it is also due to the nature of my magic, and the way in which it is used. I am able to enter into battle if need be, but my powers are greatly curbed. They are being siphoned away towards a more… substantial purpose. One that is far more important than even this war, which threatens to destroy our world."

"What purpose would that be?"

Toyohime pointed up towards the sky, where the black void of space was punctured by the iridescent shimmer that shrouded the Lunar Capital, keeping it safe from the ruthless, voracious vacuum beyond its boundaries.

"The barrier," she replied. "It is my magic, and my magic alone, that sustains it."

Our second day on the Moon drew to a close. Little was said at the dinner table, both due to the lack of cheer amongst my fellow guests and due to the exhaustion of spending an entire day fighting endless hordes of spirits, fairies, and the myriad assortment of youkai that Junko had gathered in her fresh attempt to bring her mortal enemies to heel. I was thus left to simultaneously chew over my own food and my own thoughts in silence.

Having been made aware of the influence Junko wielded, I could not help but conjecture about what sort of a being she really was. She was undoubtedly powerful, and as a denizen of Hell, which I presumed to be a properly hellish place – unlike, for instance, Former Hell – I had the sense that her appearance and abilities might be similarly infernal or devilish. The fact that she'd had her own offspring did little to suppress these fantasies – one of the more gory flights of fancy I'd harbored was of a small, grotesque demon bursting out of the chest of its parasite host, somewhat similar to the premise of a film I'd seen but whose name I could not remember. If that truly was the case, then I did not begrudge Chang'e's husband for seeking the entity out and destroying it with all possible prejudice.

We retreated to our respective rooms, but it appeared that even in the serene, solitary environs of the Moon, my insomnia was not to be quelled, and so I once again discarded my quilt – a luxurious sheet made of the softest velvet – and ambled through the cavernous palace corridors. My midnight walk took me back to the courtyard where we had met Chang'e, but it, along with the niches overlooking it, was now deserted.

I eased myself into the ringed seat in the stone pavilion, letting the cool marble soothe my back. Looking up, I realized that my position offered the perfect vantage point from which to view the Earth, so large when I was on it, yet so small from all the way out here. I could cover the entirety of humanity as I knew it with a single finger.

"A surprise to see you here at this time of night," chirped a voice.

"You are one of the select few who know me to be an insomniac," I replied without bothering – or needing – to turn and find out who had spoken. "It should not be much of a surprise at all."

Toyosatomimi no Miko laughed, and plopped herself onto the bench across from mine. "I spoke in jest. In truth, little surprises me anymore." She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me with the half-mocking, half-serious expression that was her trademark. "Nevertheless, you are no hermit, and it would do you much good to get the sleep you need, particularly since the Lunarian princess demands that your vision be clear in her presence. A second tasting of the sleeping powder I gave you could conceivably suffice."

"Sleepless nights have been a close friend in recent times," I admitted. "The more I discover about the world I have been thrust into, the less respite I am allowed from my own thoughts. Gensokyo and my own mind have that in common – they are both seemingly limitless prisons, both clearly bounded, yet simultaneously without boundary. And I am a willing prisoner within both."

"A fascinating perspective," Miko replied as she nodded knowingly. "Yet… one wonders just how willing a prisoner you would be if you remained privy to the greater truths that lie beyond the Hakurei Barrier."

"What do you mean?"

"Marisa approached me a few days ago, something that she was loathe to do, yet nonetheless ultimately did. She told me of how you mentioned that, should your memories be restored by some unforeseen or unprecedented miracle, you might potentially wish to depart from this realm. Her desperation in seeking me out says much about her unspoken dread of that possibility. And in truth, she is not alone." The hermit rubbed her chin, as though stroking an invisible beard. "You have touched the lives of many of the most prominent figures in Gensokyo – and beyond – in an irrevocable and undeniable manner. You may have once thought yourself an observer, a member of the audience watching as the grand play unfolded before your eyes, removed from the drama at large. But perhaps the fact is that you are now as much an actor on the stage as any other. Perhaps the play would no longer be complete without your presence. Or so I have determined."

"And what about you?" I asked. "What do you personally think of me?"

Miko blinked, evidently not expecting the focus of my queries to turn to her. "These are not considerations I typically take into account. If you were to insist on an answer, then you already have it – I consider you as vital a part of Gensokyo as any other. Accomplished user of magic you may not yet be, but you still deserve an appropriate degree of respect and admiration. No other human has come anywhere near as close as undertaking the journeys – and concomitant hardships – that you've been through. And, of course, you are still my student." She winked cheerily. "That in itself is a position worthy of esteem."

"I suppose." I returned her smile, then leaned back onto the marble cushioning, allowing the cool stone to soothe my unexpectedly stiff shoulders. "When I met the Lunarian king yesterday, he asked me a strangely rhetorical question."

"What was it?"

"He wondered if the fate of the Lunarians as a people was to remain here on the Moon, without ever going back to the Earth, their original, long-lost home-world. In truth, I also wonder the same. Maybe in the future, something will call me back to my true home, to the outside world where I once belonged. Or maybe I will remain in Gensokyo for the rest of my days, and my destiny will have been determined for me by the circumstances."

"Within the tenets of Taoism, it is believed that – as you should know by now – life is like a river upon which we flow, weightlessly and effortlessly towards the perfect equilibrium of inner peace. Yet that does not mean one cannot learn how to swim in times of need." Miko sighed and pulled out her paper fan, unfurling it and tapping it on her chin as she continued to speak. "Destiny is not a pre-ordained, immutable, inevitable destination. It is a series of possibilities whose true natures are only revealed once you actually arrive at them. Before then, the future is as murky as we all know it to be."

"It must have been a strange and complicated twist of destiny, then, that contrived to bring us together as friends instead of foes," I noted. "Things could have turned out quite differently."

"Quite so. I am more than happy with how that particular facet of our relationship has played itself out. Which, if you'll forgive my somewhat tangential line of thought, leads me to ask this one thing." Miko pointed her paper fan at me and stared into my eyes, as though attempting to discern how I would respond to her question before I actually answered it. "Let us say – hypothetically, of course – that everything you had witnessed here, including Gensokyo, the underworld, and so on, was all a figment of your imagination, a single dream amongst myriad others. Would you want to wake from the dream, not knowing what sort of life awaited you in the outside world, or would you want to remain trapped in ignorant bliss, free to explore this realm for as long as you liked, but in the knowledge that it was all a façade?"

Was this a test of some sort? If so, then I would likely have to figure out what Miko actually wanted me to say. Yet if that meant voicing an opinion that was not my own, I was sure the hermit would be able to uncover my deceit in little to no time. Honesty was the best policy – or at least, the least worst of the possible policies. I would speak my mind and let the truth light up the way forward, as it had always done in my time here.

"At this moment in time," I slowly replied, "I would want to stay in Gensokyo."

Miko raised an eyebrow, though I was not sure whether her expression was necessarily one of surprise. "Even if you knew it to be a lie?"

"Yes, even so." I paused. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" Miko snapped her paper fan shut and shrugged. An unusually insouciant gesture, even by her easygoing standards. Yet that in itself told me that there was something about her question that she was trying a little too hard to hide.

"For now, let's just say that I have a hunch."

In a world that lacked any tangible sense of day and night, it was difficult to keep track of time as it progressed, with the noon and six o'clock bells often catching me by surprise when they rang, sullen and sonorous, reverberating across the thin air of the Lunar Capital. By the fifth day of proceedings, I had lost any real sense of the hours as they passed, learning to take the artificially designated lunar schedule at face value, without instinctively wondering where the sunset was as I would have done on Earth.

Much of my free time, when I was not required to observe the battlefield and relay my thoughts to the princess, was spent ruminating on the meaning behind Toyosatomimi no Miko's question. Gensokyo was far too real and visceral to be a dream, and the prospect of my experiences being a mere product of my own personal ingenuity was so bitterly disappointing and laughably cliched as to be nigh on unbelievable. But the hermit, despite her carefree attitude towards most things, was not one to waste words. She definitely knew more than she let on, or at least had a conjecture about something that pertained to me. And if so, what exactly was it?

I recalled what Keine Kamishirasawa had told me during our first meeting in the Human Village. No one truly remembered how they entered Gensokyo – they simply were transported from one world to another, with no recollection as to what may have triggered the move. It was, in her words, much like a dream.

I had little doubt that Gensokyo was as real as the outside world from which I had come. Yet as I had personally observed, the mind could be as boundless and vivid as a realm filled with magic and monsters such as this. If Gensokyo was as limitless as any mind, then so too could the converse be true. The more I scratched my head at the possible hidden explanation behind Miko's words, the less I felt I knew about what was real and what was not.

However, there was one thing I knew for sure. As my answer to Miko had indicated, if I knew nothing about who I had been before I had arrived in Gensokyo, then I would not be well-served in returning to a place which I could no longer call home in any good conscience.

Gensokyo was my home. And it would remain my home for as long as I wanted it to.

In order to stave off any intrusive notions about the reality of my situation, I threw myself fully into assisting Watatsuki no Toyohime in her hour of need. She graciously accepted and duly implemented many of my suggestions, though with some initial resistance, particularly when the senior officers learned where the changes had originated from.

"What would an Earthling know about our ways?" one of them had scowled.

"More than you know," Toyohime had replied solemnly. "War is not our way, but it is theirs. If you value this place and the people that live in it, I suggest you take the Earthen traveler's ideas seriously."

"You should not be so beholden to the traveler," another officer had said. "He is not Lunarian – he does not feel the same desire to protect our home as we do."

"That is exactly why his advice can be trusted," came the response. "He is not blinded by the anger, despair, and sorrow that you and I feel. What we need most now, above all else, is a calm mind and a clear head that views the situation from afar, seeing the picture in its entirety instead of a mere sliver of the tapestry. For that task, there is no better person suited than him."

And so, as the soldiers were reshuffled into new groups and the sky began to fill with paper shikigami flitting to and fro, the battle raged on in the packed roads of the Lunar Capital. Slowly but surely, we began to see incremental improvements in the progress of the Lunarian Defence Corps as they pushed the invaders back, block by block, street by street. Most importantly, the rise in the number of casualties slowed to a trickle, meaning that those who were patched up sufficiently could return to the fray once they were well enough to do so.

Yet even this was not enough to turn the tide against an unrelenting foe, and all that was accomplished by the end of the week was the transforming of the Defence Corps' general retreat into something of a stalemate, where the advantage changed hands between the two sides over and over again. A breakthrough, somewhere and somehow, was required, and we were finally offered the chance to make one on the morning of day six.

Though not exactly in the manner in which we had expected.

We arrived at the Palace's main conference room to find a most unusual sight: a youkai, two glinting horns protruding from their forehead, deep in conversation with Toyohime. As we entered, the youkai stood and departed, glaring at us as we passed by. Miko's hand drifted towards the pommel of her sword, but thankfully no hostilities ensued, and the youkai allowed themselves to be escorted away by a group of palace guards.

"Was that a youkai?" Marisa asked incredulously. "Surely no youkai could make it into the Moon Palace without your consent."

"Indeed." Toyohime puffed her cheeks out. "That was an envoy. From Junko."

Our eyes widened in unison. "From our enemy?" Reimu confirmed.

The lunar princess nodded. "It seems she is as tired of the impasse as we are. Maybe she has finally learned that war is not the answer to her question, especially after she was beaten back so spectacularly the last time she was here. Once bitten twice shy, or so the saying goes. In any case, she has offered us a solution."

"A ceasefire? Or a truce of some sort?"

"Nothing so peaceful, I am afraid." The crease in Toyohime's forehead deepened. "She wants a duel."

"One-on-one, I presume?" Miko observed.

"One-on-one. It is to take place in the outskirts of the Lunar Capital, two days from now. Each side may pick their own champion."

"You already agreed to this?"

"I have." Toyohime looked at each of us in turn. "Until then, I ask that all of you continue your efforts, as you have so gallantly done in the past days. In the meantime, I will have to make the requisite preparations for the forthcoming duel."

"With all due respect, surely you will not be fighting yourself?" I said. "As I recall, you mentioned that you would not be able to exert your full power in a skirmish due to the need to maintain the barrier outside the Lunar Capital, especially during this invasion."

"Rest easy, traveler. I will not be participating in the melee." A crestfallen look passed over her face. "Yet that is exactly why I am worried."

"Why is that?"

"The most powerful magic user in the Palace aside from myself is my sister, Watatsuki no Yorihime. I intend to send her in my place."

"If she is as strong as yourself, then you should have little fear of her losing," I assured her.

Toyohime shook her head. "That is not my most pressing concern. She will not lose – in fact, we may well consider the war to be over if Junko keeps her word."

"Then what issue would there be in allowing her to fight?"

"Losing is not the problem. It is her temperament and her lack of discipline that worries me so." The princess bit her thumb. "She is undoubtedly powerful, but she has not been trained to harness her powers with restraint as I have been. One wrong move could level the entire city. We would have nowhere to run."

"That would not be ideal," Byakuren suddenly commented. Once again, her speaking up surprised me, given how little she had said throughout our sojourn here on the Moon. "The city may be protected with a secondary barrier, though I am not familiar with the true scale of your sister's strength. We will do whatever we can to help, yet if she is as uncontrolled as you say she is, I unfortunately fear the worst."

"As do I. If it is not too much trouble, I would ask that you erect a spell barrier around the site of the duel in order to soften the blow of any stray spells that make their way towards the Palace. That is your area of expertise, if I recall correctly from what I have read about you, Byakuren Hijiri."

"That is one of them, yes," Byakuren replied. "Reimu, I will need your help – I may not have enough talismans to cover the entire field of combat."

"Leave it to me." The shrine maiden smiled, but Byakuren did not reciprocate the expression, instead turning away to stare wordlessly at the door.

In truth, I was worried for Byakuren, and I was sure the others were too – save for Toyosatomimi no Miko, perhaps. Yet I was not sure what words of comfort I would have to offer. She had been dragged here, somewhat against her will, on the promise of some additional guarantee regarding the existing deal between her and Miko, of which the details remained unclear to me and all those who were not privy to the conversations between them. She would not be happy until this whole affair was over, even if she had the fortitude and patience to bear with it and give as good as she'd got while she was here.

I considered her a dear friend, one with whom I had shared many experiences in my short time thus far in Gensokyo. And no true friend would let such concerns go unspoken or unresolved.

That night, after we were finished with our respective dinners and baths, I made my way to Byakuren's room, several doors down from my own, and knocked lightly on the wooden frame.

"Who goes there?" called the monk.

"It's me," I said.

"Traveler?" I heard a quiet sigh of relief. "Come in."

Sliding the door open, I found Byakuren sitting cross-legged in front of the miniature table in the center of all of our bedrooms, upon which was – as expected – a steaming cup of tea. She gestured towards the cushion across from her, and I duly eased myself onto it.

"It has been some time since we spoke like this," I commented.

"It has." She sipped from her tea, staring forlornly at the tea leaves as they swirled about. "How have you been?"

"Well enough, thank you," I replied. "Though I would ask the same of you – that is why I have come. You have seemed… dissatisfied with how events have unfolded. And with good reason, I suppose."

Byakuren pressed her lips together tightly, and for a while, she said nothing. I was content to let her talk at her own pace – I figured that, above all, she needed an ear that would listen to her divulgations. At last, after a minute or so of somber silence, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I wish no ill will on Toyosatomimi no Miko. It is not in my nature." She pushed a stray strand of hair back over her ear and shook her head. "But her terms are steep. She knows she has the advantage over me – if I do not move the Myouren Temple away from the Great Mausoleum, eventually her burgeoning powers will expand the Mausoleum beyond its current pocket of space, causing it to – quite literally – burst through the floorboards of the Temple, ripping it apart stone by stone, brick by brick. I cannot allow that to happen. I will not." She placed the cup back onto the table and clenched her fists. "The Temple and its residents are all I have left. All I have left of my brother's legacy. It will not be taken from me."

"Forgive me, but you can transform the Temple into a palanquin ship, can you not?" I noted. "It does not seem so momentous a task to undertake. Gensokyo is a massive place, and the Human Village is surrounded by endless stretches of unused land. It would not be difficult to-"

"That is not the only issue," Byakuren interjected forcefully, her voice creaking with the strain of raising her vocal volume. "She desires something that I simply cannot give."

I tilted my head. "What would that be?"

"She…" Byakuren's mouth quivered, and she cleared her throat, as though attempting to push out words that she seemed altogether reluctant to say. And after hearing her next sentence, I immediately understood why she felt such hesitance.

"Before I move the Temple away… she wants me to aid her in completing her resurrection."

"I was expecting you."

It was the evening after, and the eve of the day of the duel. A full week had passed since we first set foot on the Moon, and I knew the next day might well be our last away from Earth, depending on how proceedings unfolded outside the city limits. Toyohime had been absent from the battlefield in the morning and afternoon, no doubt busying herself with making sure her sister Yorihime did not blow up the rest of the city along with her sworn enemy. I was largely left to my own devices, alone in the whirlwind around me, watching the fighting unfold just as I had been doing the entire time. Yet I could not concentrate on what was going on, for I was far more preoccupied with my own personal affairs, and with what I planned to do once I was excused from my post at the central camp.

Toyohime's absence meant that it was left to Marisa and her broom to take me back to relative safety. She and I had already made the trip to the front lines together in the morning, but the return trip was – unlike the first broom ride – not entirely steeped in silence.

"How'd things go where you were?" I asked as we whizzed over the uneven carpet of rooftops matting the otherwise barren surface of the Moon. The other three members of our party had stayed behind to clean things up, and so the two of us were left alone in the boundless sky above the Lunar Capital.

"Wasn't bad, actually. A lot less youkai than yesterday – most of them just seemed to be toeing the invisible line between us and them, as opposed to actually trying to gain any ground." Marisa grunted. "They're probably getting ready for the duel tomorrow as well."

"Junko probably told them not to try anything rash," I agreed. It was easy to presume that youkai were mindless, purely instinctual beasts of low intellect, and though that was true for the majority of youkai, my travels had swiftly dissuaded me from applying that notion to all of them. There was little substitute for meeting someone face-to-face when one sought to lift one's own preconceived prejudices of them, and the youkai were no different in that regard. "Maybe she is a more caring overlord of Hell than I previously expected."

Marisa snorted. "Maybe so. But whatever the case may be, we're gonna have the little princess beat her up and go home. The sooner we're done here, the better. Plus, I don't wanna go back and find that Alice took all my stuff."

"Hopefully that won't come to pass," I laughed. "When we do return, you should take a rest. You've deserved one."

"Thank you, traveler. I'll do that." She gently placed her hand on my own – both of which were wrapped around her waist – and did not let go until we had landed in the courtyard in front of the Moon Palace's lobby. We nodded to each other and went our separate ways – Marisa had first dibs on the bath, and I had little intention of following her in.

As the artificial night fell and the usual hush descended upon the Lunar Capital, I gathered up the courage to make my way towards the bedroom diagonally adjacent to mine, where a certain hermit remained dormant, if not wholly asleep.

Before I could knock, a voice called from within. "Come on in."

And so, I found myself sitting across from Miko, who had a knowing look on her face as she offered me a sweet from the circular tray that sat on every bedroom table in the Palace. I politely refused, and she shrugged.

"Suit yourself." She popped a candy into her mouth and placed her hands on her lap, waiting expectantly for me to start speaking.

I surmised that both she and I both knew why I was here. I could only wonder how far she was willing to indulge me tonight.

"I… spoke with Byakuren last night," I began.

"I know." Miko chewed nonchalantly on the sweet. "What did she tell you?"

"That you made certain demands of her in return for your continued non-belligerence." I frowned. "I understand that you want to be resurrected, but I cannot help but-"

She held up a hand, and I was immediately pressed into silence.

"How much do you know about the process of resurrection?" she asked. A rhetorical question, of course – she knew I had next to no knowledge of the matter, being someone who had never had a real need to bring myself back to life. Without missing a beat, she continued. "I won't bore you with the complexities or intricacies – we would be here a long time if I did. But the most pertinent facet of the process involves exactly the one thing that Byakuren finds unpalatable to the point of abhorrence. Aiding a religious rival is bad enough – this is the cherry on the icing on the cake, so to say."

Miko shuffled her knees under her body, clasping her thighs as she spoke.

"When life is channeled into an object which ought not to be alive, a price must be paid in return," she said.

"What sort of price?"

"A magical price. It may be compensated via many methods, the most common of which is a talisman or other similar container imbued with concentrated magical power. However, no such wellspring of magic exists in Gensokyo. Here, the magical ether is spread relatively evenly, though some places – such as the Forest of Magic – have a little more of it than others. In short, I am forced to draw the energy I require from a large swathe of the land around where my body was originally located when I first arrived."

"So, what you are saying is that the Myouren Temple…"

"Byakuren and her temple must supply the magic, yes. That is what gives her such pause, and for good reason. If she does aid me in my resurrection, she and her followers will lose much of their power, if not all. It is, to put it quite bluntly, a sacrifice."

"But…" I struggled to make out the words I wanted to say. "Could… could you not draw the magic from some other place? The Forest of Magic is close by, and as you say, the concentration of magic there is much greater than-"

Miko shook her head. "It will not suffice. The transferal of magic exponentially weakens in proportion to the geographical distance of that transferal, particularly where no vessels or ley lines are available to assist in the move. Even a short trip from the Forest of Magic to the Temple is enough to diminish the derivation of magic by a large amount. And if I were to take the magic from the Human Village instead of the Temple… let's just say the consequences would be quite dire for all the humans residing there. It's Byakuren and her temple, or nothing."

For the first time since I had arrived in this realm, I felt an exasperation growing in my chest, an emotion that – to my quiet surprise – bordered almost on anger. I could not believe the words I was hearing, particularly from one whose advice and perspectives I had always counted on to be rational, well-intended, and never as selfish as was apparent to me now. "Why, though?" I asked almost pleadingly. "Why do you want to be resurrected so much? Are things not fine the way they are?"

"You have not been dead, traveler, and you do not know the suffering of one who has." Though Miko's features painted a sympathetic picture, her eyes were cold with the certainty of her demands. "Although I have to admit, having given my request some additional thought, I'm not in as much of a rush now to breathe the living air again as I was before. And much of that is thanks to you, traveler."

Frustration abruptly gave way to bemusement. "Thanks to me?"

"Indeed." She offered me a reassuring half-smile. "Particularly what I asked you two nights ago, and the manner in which you answered."

"You mean… about this world being merely a dream, and whether I would wish to awaken?"

"Precisely that." The hermit's expression suddenly shifted to one of personal indecision, as though she were chewing over what to tell me next. I had never seen her features contort in such internal turmoil before, though it represented a strangely refreshing change from the confident and occasionally brash veneer that I had come to expect from her. "It's just… I struggle to decide whether I should inform you of the truth, at least as far as I know it. Yet I suppose now that I've said that, I can hardly deprive you of the satiation of your curiosities, can I?"

I chuckled. "You said it."

"That I did." She placed her elbows on the table and leaned towards me, her eyes narrowing as if she were impressing upon me the significance of what she was about to say. "I want you to listen carefully, traveler." Miko pointed at the space between my eyes. "And whatever I tell you in the next few minutes, do not think to do anything stupid afterwards, because I will know if you have decided to do something stupid, and I will exert every last ounce of my magical power to prevent you from doing so. Do you understand?"

"I… yes?" Her warning was stern, yet I was not entirely sure what to make of it. What stupid thing could I do that was any worse than coming all the way to the Moon without a coherent plan in mind?

Miko cleared her throat and, at last, told me what it was that she needed me to hear.

"The lore of Gensokyo is ancient beyond comprehension," she began. "It precedes myself, Byakuren, Reimu, Marisa, and anyone you would care to talk to. It precedes perhaps even Keine Kamishirasawa, though her abilities allow her to read Gensokyo's history as though it were an open book. Yet there are tales that are passed on, mouth to mouth, written word to written word, all the way down to the present day. One of them – at least, from what I have read – concerns the existence of one who walks the land between realms, observing and taking note of things as they happen, yet never attempting themselves to interfere with the affairs of those whose lives they contemplate. That figure of legend is known by many a name, and in one of the iterations of that story, they are known simply as 'the storyteller'. In other words-"

"A chronicler," I breathed.

"Exactly so. Of course, I am not speculating that the legendary figure is yourself, or some being of which you are a spiritual or physical progeny. That would be much too great a leap of logic to take. Yet there is more to the story than is immediately apparent." The hermit held up a finger. "From what I have gleaned in the texts I have read, it is also said that the relationship between the storyteller and the worlds they visit is symbiotic – the world bestows upon the storyteller the story they are looking for, and in return the storyteller's presence supplies the world in question with its raison d'etre. One cannot live without the other. My greatest worry at this moment is that the same may be true of you. Do you remember when you were transported into the Scarlet Devil Mansion, seemingly out of your own volition?"

"Only too well."

"If my intuitions are correct – and I ask that you do not pay too much heed to conjecture – when you imagined the Mansion in your mind, it was not the Mansion of this world that you were taken to, although you may have already deduced that on your own. Your chronicling powers, if I might call them that, had generated a new iteration of the Mansion that you were able to visit, even though your visits were ultimately cut short by the machinations of those which sought to bring an end to you prematurely. Those versions of the Mansion, and of Gensokyo, that you were teleported into were completely new, independent places of their own that were untethered to our current reality. In other words, you had created Gensokyo as you yourself knew it."

A numbing sensation began to spread through my limbs, capturing my body, freezing it in place. The cogs in my head, which had for so long remained trapped and immobilized by ignorance, were beginning to turn. With each new thought, more and more of what Miko had just told me started to make sense. I was able to teleport to places I had been to, because my going there had granted them an existence in my mind that allowed me to exercise the magic I wielded. In that same vein, I could not whisk myself away from the Mansion during my two latest visits there, because in the world I was in, I had simply never been outside. Each one was a brand new realm of my own making, yet its constituent regions did not exist until my eyes, my senses, had confirmed that they did. Seeing was believing, and what I knew to exist only did so when I believed it to.

Miko, sensing the rapidly burgeoning revelation that was roiling in my mind, moved quickly to douse the flames. "As I said, traveler, this is mere hypothesis, nothing more. That is also why I warned you not to do anything stupid with the knowledge you were given, because of the potential for great harm that might come from you experimenting with your powers. The risk far, far outweighs the reward at this moment in time. After all, the converse also applies with regards to the effect of your powers on existence. When you cease to exist in this realm, so will we."

"Then…" I rubbed my chest, willing my pulsing thoughts and racing heartbeat to calm themselves. "Then why did you tell me all this? Surely it would be better to allow me to remain ignorant, if unsatisfied. There is little I can do with this knowledge other than to depart, if I so desired."

"Oh, traveler." Miko mustered a quiet laugh as she gave a small shake of her head. "You have no idea how many times I asked myself whether the course of action I am taking now would be advisable. In another timeline – perhaps one of your own making – I would likely not be so forthcoming with the truth. But having witnessed the dedication with which you have applied yourself to your 'storytelling', as well as your passion for traveling and experiencing new things, I cannot help but be moved. I can never be sure of your intentions, but what I can be sure of is your love for this realm, this dimension, and the people within it – particularly after what you told me two nights prior.

"That is also what has put something of a stay on my desire to resurrect. You see, a fully restored hermit of my caliber can journey between worlds as you do, not simply to and from dimensions – like Senkai – that are purely of our own making. If needs must, I would have dragged you back from wherever you disappeared to in order to ensure that Gensokyo as I knew it lived on. Yet as I have just revealed to you, I feel there is little need for me to worry about that just yet. After all, you are devoted to us. And that feeling is well-reciprocated."

"Is it?"

"Come now, don't play dumb. There are many different forms of love, traveler. Some are dutiful, some are friendly, and some are – dare I say it – romantic, even. The only thing that matters is which version you are prepared to accept, though that may be a decision you will have to make sooner rather than later."

"And which one would your variant of love be?" I asked slowly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

Miko winked, the old and familiar mischief pooling back into her face.

"Does it really matter?" she chirped.

Reality is in the eye of the beholder, or so it is said. Thus the journey between the real and the fantastical, as something that the human mind finds itself at great pains to comprehend, ends up becoming something of a blur in hindsight, an amnesiac tempest that seemingly moves people through both time and space. When humans are thrust into the fantastical world of Gensokyo, they do not remember how they got there. All they know is that they are there, and that they are not where they once were. Therefore, when one attempts to study the boundary between worlds, a lesser mind more often than not finds itself even more confused by the conclusion of its study than it did when its scrutiny was first commenced.

And, as a lesser mind myself, all I could really say of the experience was that it was indeed strange and incomprehensible beyond belief, even as I stared the boundary in its abyssal, mind-bending face.

The barrier that separated the Lunar Capital's atmosphere from the airless Moon was one of those great paradoxes that inevitably cropped up where magic met manifestation. It was unsophisticated in its design, a mere bending of space that redirected the air back off its transparent interior, as though it were nothing more than a glass dome. Yet when one walked into the barrier itself, instead of bouncing off it as one would bounce off a wall, one would find themselves inexplicably walking back in the direction whence they came, even if they tried their best to maintain an absolutely straight path forward. The non-Euclidean nature of the separation meant that there was simply no way to break through the barrier via physical means – a knife stabbed into the ethereal fabric would soon duly turn on its wielder.

I conjectured that the Hakurei Barrier, a much larger and considerably more powerful construct, operated in a similar fashion. If so, it would technically be possible to discern the geographical bounds of Gensokyo, even if it was not possible to step beyond them. Still – to paraphrase an old platitude – where there was a way, there was a will.

Of course, I would not be here to ponder about the mystery of the lunar barrier if I did not need to be here. Which I did.

A crescendo in the hubbub and chatter around me shook me to my senses, and the Lunarians around me began pointing at something in the distance. We were in the barren wastes far removed from the outskirts of the Lunar Capital, gathered amidst a loosely-ordered cluster of officers and soldiers. Though I could not yet see who they were gesturing towards, judging by the frenzy and anxiety with which the Lunarians' discussions were taking place, it was not hard to tell who was coming.

I blinked, trying to focus my bleary eyes towards the horizon. I had not gotten much sleep the night before – less so than usual, in fact – and even now I felt as though I was barely scratching the surface of the information Miko had unleashed on me barely twelve hours prior. A barrage of errant queries pinged around the inside of my skull, turning everything I thought I knew upside down, causing me to doubt all that I had surmised, all that I had discovered during my months spent away from the outside world, locked out of my old memories.

Had I known Reimu and Marisa before my memories were taken from me? Was that why I felt little surprise at seeing them, and also why I knew their names before I had even met them all those weeks ago? Were they hiding something from me, or were they, too, victims of the cruel spell that had erased their existence from my mind? What would happen to them – and everyone else in Gensokyo – if the dam was burst, and my memories came flooding back into the realm?

"Lunarian Defence Corps!" yelled a familiar voice. "Attention! Step-to!"

The Defence Corps, gathering behind their leader, quickly arranged themselves into neat rows, completing their formational jigsaw with a series of satisfying thuds. Watatsuki no Toyohime stood at the front of the queue, peering out warily at the incoming silhouettes. Beside her was the insouciant yet noticeably impatient figure of her sister, Watatsuki no Yorihime, the one whose victory – or defeat – would determine the fate of this war, and of the Lunar Capital, once and for all.

The ground began to shudder with the force of the oncoming march of the enemy, who had turned out in numbers far eclipsing the Lunarians' own. Though it was clear that if Junko had so wished, the war would have been concluded definitively in Hell's favor, that would not have happened without a considerable loss of life on both sides. Better to settle things between the leaders themselves than to have those that fought under their banner perish unnecessarily – though again, that was not a perspective I would have expected to be espoused by one who hailed from a place as hellish as, well, Hell itself.

The army of youkai stopped their march at a far enough distance that only the most powerful of spells could reach them. At their helm, hands on her hips, was the instigator of this entire conflict, tall and imposing, draped in a dark robe around which was coiled an extravagantly-decorated gold-and-red vest, her head crowned by a similarly profligate-looking black hat. Trailing behind her were wisps of vaporous purple fire, flickering and fluttering with every step she took. Her dark gold hair shone white and yellow in the incandescent moonlight, and her surprisingly young features were curled in a twisted and triumphant smile – yet even if she didn't look like much a ruler of Hell at first glance, let it be known that she most certainly dressed the part.

Junko had come for her prize once again. And all the Moon knew it.

The youkai emissary we had seen at the Moon Palace yesterday emerged from the shadows behind Junko. "By the order and gracious request of Junko, lord mistress of Hell and its innumerable scions, the outcome of this skirmish is to be settled by means of single combat," they bellowed, their voice raspy yet sonorous in the thin lunar air. "As agreed, the duel shall commence by the striking of the Lunarian bell at noon. None are permitted to interfere, and a barrier shall be erected around the arena to prevent any forms of magic from entering or leaving. Both sides shall be allowed to inspect the barrier to ensure its authenticity, strength, and impartiality towards both parties."

"Reimu Hakurei and Byakuren Hijiri, step forth," Toyohime called. The monk and the shrine maiden glanced briefly at the rest of us before making their way through the crowd, stopping beside Toyohime, who gestured towards them. "I have nominated these two to erect the barrier, subject to your acceptance."

Junko nodded. "Hakurei and Hijiri, I know you well. I give you my approval."

The two of them bowed, and quickly began to trace a circle around the area separating the two armies, placing talismans on the ground at regular intervals, chanting spells as they walked. The space between the talismans glowed purple as each new talisman was deposited, and the moment Reimu and Byakuren met at the far end of the circle's circumference, a web of blinding white lines streaked inwards from each talisman, piercing towards the center of the circle. As the lines intersected, a tree-like structure sprouted from the center, spiraling up into the sky, then falling away to form a shimmering hemispherical dome around the circle.

"This barrier will allow the entry of two people, no more and no less," Reimu announced as she and Byakuren moved outside the barrier's perimeter. "No magic may penetrate, and no magic may escape. The arena should now be ready for use."

Toyohime and Junko stepped forward, each muttering a series of spells and casting them towards the barrier. As anticipated, the dome reflected anything the two leaders could throw at it. They nodded at Reimu, who smiled and bowed again as she and Byakuren retreated back into the Lunarian throng.

"The noon bell is due to strike soon." Toyohime turned to Yorihime, a worried look etched on her face. Even now, after all the preparation she had done, she could not help but let her concern slip. "Are you ready?" she asked quietly.

"Ready as I've always been," her sister replied offhandedly. "I just wanna get it over and done with."

Toyohime sighed. "If you say so. Well then…" She cleared her throat. "The combatants should now enter the ring. There is little time left."

"Then I shall do so." Junko strode into the barrier, the purple fires behind her extinguished momentarily before reappearing again once she was inside. "I will not go easy on you, young Lunarian princess, and I expect you to return the favor."

"I would worry about yourself first, lord mistress Junko," Toyohime riposted as Yorihime joined Junko inside the dome. "The eclipse will cast its shade across Hell again, just as it did all those years ago."

"We shall see." Junko's smile broadened. "I am not the same bumbling fool that I was centuries hence. I have learned much from our previous encounter, and I know your ways as well as any other."

The lord mistress of Hell seemed confident enough in her chances of victory, which prompted me to lean towards the hermit standing beside me and ask her, "Who do you think will win?"

"If I told you, it would spoil the surprise," Toyosatomimi no Miko replied with a smirk. "Though maybe I'll give you a taster."

"Please do."

"Junko's and Watatsuki no Yorihime's powers complement each other in a very interesting way. Junko's ability is to return things to their 'godly state' after prolonged exposure to the filth of our world – in other words, it is the most comprehensive form of purification possible. For an unholy character such as her to possess such a holy ability is a funny twist of fate, don't you think?"

"And what about Watatsuki no Yorihime's ability?"

Miko put a finger to her lips and winked. Wait and see, she seemed to be saying. And I was happy to comply.

A ghostly toll abruptly reverberated around the Lunar Capital, hushing the crowd, pressing them – and us – immediately into silence. The time had finally come.

I gulped, my breath catching in my throat as I, and everyone else, fixed our eyes on the dome. I was not sure what sort of battle to expect, but having seen first-hand the uncompromising and overwhelming manner in which the strongest of Gensokyo's denizens did battle, I anticipated nothing short of a stunning, earth-shattering spectacle. Judging by the looks on the faces of the others, Lunarian and youkai alike, I presumed that they were all thinking the same thing.

Junko raised her hand, a gust of black and blue energy gathering in her palm, sucking in the space around it until a veritable void had been summoned within her grasp, threatening to subsume everything inside the arena – Junko and Yorihime both – into its voracious embrace. The whirlwind of energy rapidly gathered pace and momentum, spreading its open maw across the circular arena, which now seemed far too small to contain the burgeoning storm. All the while, Yorihime simply stood there, watching, waiting, eyeing Junko with all the care of one who – in her mind – knew the battle was already over.

The rest of us just didn't know it yet.

"Will you not fight?" taunted Junko above the growing din as the void shrouded Yorihime from sight. "Is this the best that the scions of the house of Watatsuki can bring to bear?"

I glanced over at Toyohime, who had her thumb to her mouth, biting incessantly at the nail, eyes furrowed deeply as she watched the contest unfold. "Come on, Yorihime," I heard her mutter under her breath. "Do not let us down."

Then, in the midst of the now all-encompassing darkness, I saw the diminutive figure of Yorihime lift up her own hand.

Without warning, a flash of light exploded from inside the arena, instantly blinding everyone around it. I clamped my eyelids shut and threw a hand up to my eyes, but the light would not be denied as it speared through my eyelids, burning a blast of red and green into my retinas. My other arm flailed out and inadvertently caught Miko, who grasped my hand and held onto it tightly until the searing glow, after a matter of minutes that seemed to drag on for hours, eventually dissipated. As our vision was gradually restored, we peered through the stark white murk and towards the dome, hoping, holding our breath, wondering what had just happened.

On the floor in the center of the arena lay a figure, broken, blackened, her robes tattered and torn, golden hair singed and scorched. Nearby stood the victor, who gazed at her sister and shrugged, sheepish even in her moment of greatest triumph.

"How did…" My words were interrupted by the deafening cheer that erupted around me, Lunarians hugging and celebrating with each other, tears in their eyes, arms around each other's shoulders and backs. Even us non-Lunarians were subject to more than our fair share of handshakes and warm embraces, perhaps a mark of the respect and admiration that our assistance towards their defensive efforts had garnered over the past week. I could still scarcely believe what had just happened, but that was seemingly irrelevant in the face of such staggering success.

In the corner of my eye, I spotted a procession of youkai trotting over to Junko's prone, limp form. They lifted her over their shoulders forlornly, and great swathes of the youkai army that had come to witness the duel turned their backs and began to walk away, dejected and disappointed at the outcome. I was undoubtedly glad to see the back of them after bearing witness to the destruction they had wrought upon the Lunar Capital, but the sympathetic and sentimental part of me could not help but feel just that little bit sorry for them.

Toyohime ran over to Yorihime and wrapped her arms around her sister's neck. I smiled at the sight, though something still ate at me, piquing my insatiable curiosity, causing my smile to wane slightly. Seeing this, Miko drew close to me and patted my shoulder.

"You want to know the answer to the riddle?" she asked impishly.

"You already know I do."

"Watatsuki no Yorihime's power is, in many ways, the polar opposite of Junko's. To put it in simple terms, while Junko reinstates the godliness inherent within all things, Yorihime drags it out kicking and screaming and uses that divinity for her own ends. Yorihime can essentially negate anything Junko could throw at her, as you and I just had the pleasure of witnessing."

A thought struck me. "Is that why Yorihime did not fight before today? That doesn't sound like a very pure thing to do, in Shintoist terms."

"Quite right." Miko nodded approvingly, clearly pleased to see that her student was remembering what he had been taught. "Going overboard with that power would drain the barrier around the Lunar Capital of its strength, as any other impure act would. You might say Toyohime is the maker, and Yorihime is the destroyer. And sometimes that capacity for destruction can come in handy."

"But if Yorihime can harness such divine power, does that not make her a god?"

"Who knows? What is a god, anyway?" Without waiting for me to answer, Miko grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the Lunarian crowd and away from the others. "Come, traveler," she said, ignoring Marisa's simmering look of displeasure. "Let's congratulate the Watatsukis on their victory here today. Then we can all go home."

"Attention!"

The five of us stood in a line in front of what seemed like the entirety of the Lunarian Defence Corps – which as I now realized, actually numbered well into the thousands. It was easy to underestimate the true scale of the organization when one was up close and personal with individual members of the Defence Corps, but I was aware that fighting on the same scale as I had seen – if not to an even more devastating degree – had been occurring all over the Lunar Capital. It would have taken a sizeable force to ensure that no youkai slipped through the cracks, as so it now proved.

As has been mentioned several times prior, though the youkai are often generally seen as beasts of low cunning with only a select few exceptions to the rule, a considerable majority of them actually straddle the line between id and ego, deviating between primal instinct and crude yet functional notions of honor, fairness, and even courtesy. True to their word, the youkai army from Hell duly slunk back to the cesspit from which they had emerged, leaving the Lunar Capital in tatters, its buildings ruined, its citizenry fearful and cowering in the haunting silence that followed. At long last, the Lunarians had the resolution they sought, even if it was a pyrrhic peace built atop the pyres of their hundreds dead. Junko had had enough, and so the affair was brought to a close at her whim. Even our victory had been dictated under her terms.

Which inevitably led me to wonder why Junko didn't simply ask for a duel to begin with. Why send an army here, in such great numbers and with such ceaseless commitment, only to throw it all away in a bout of single combat which she – at least, to her knowledge – had at best a decent chance of winning? Was her aim really to bring the Lunar Capital to bear after centuries of whetting the blades of her revenge, or had there been some other ulterior, unseen motive, the consequences of which we would only realize much later? I did not know the ways of Hell as well as I did those of Gensokyo, but if Junko truly worried for the youkai under her command, she would not have brought them here to begin with.

It made more sense to presume that Junko had arrived with only one aim in mind: destruction. And if that had been her objective, then she had succeeded far beyond her wildest dreams. Toyohime had been in no position to reject her offer of compromise, and Junko knew it. The whole incident stank of saber-rattling, a costly, fruitless show of force ended with a single stroke by the careless hand of Watatsuki no Yorihime. Junko already had much to answer for, and if there had been no method to her madness from the start, then what she did was unquestionably unforgiveable.

Not that it was my place to forgive her, anyway. That would be something for the Lunarians, and the Lunarians alone, to decide.

A royal feast had been convened the previous night at the Moon Palace to celebrate our triumph, but beneath the smiles and claps of those who had gathered, it had been easy to detect an undercurrent of unease, as though the act of celebration was one that ought to be conducted with some level of restraint out of respect for those whose parents, children, relatives, friends and loved ones who would never again see the light of day. Unable to stand the increasingly awkward atmosphere and overly polite chatter, I had excused myself early from the party and departed for my own room, rapidly falling asleep under the sheer weight of my exertions during the past week, before being awoken late in the morning by a retainer and ushered quickly to the farewell parade that we, the supposed saviors of the Moon, now attended.

Toyohime, who was once again at the front of the queue, turned to us and bowed. "On behalf of the Lunarian Defence Corps, the royal house of Watatsuki, and all the Lunarians on the Moon, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the assistance and tireless effort you have given us. Of course, we have not forgotten the bargain we struck earlier in the week – the mystery behind the false Moon will be revealed to you now."

With a flourish, Toyohime raised both of her hands, pointing them towards the barrier which her magic so diligently maintained.

Then, the barrier split open.

"What the-" All of us were immediately taken aback, Miko and Byakuren flinging their hands up to their mouths, Marisa taking a deep breath and holding it in anticipation of the breathable air being summarily vacuumed out into the great blackness beyond. It was only when we realized that none of the members of the Lunarian Defence Corps had so much as batted an eyelid at the upheaval that we decided it would be best to calm ourselves, particularly as Toyohime seemed to be stifling a laugh at our reactions.

"Worry not, my friends," she assured us. "Look closely."

We did so, and found to our surprise that within the bisected barrier was… another barrier. A second layer of shimmering space shrouded the Lunar Capital, ensuring that whatever was inside remained inside, even as the original dome continued to peel away and melt into the jagged rock below.

"When Junko's forces first landed in the Lunar Capital, we immediately devised a plan to ensure that the magic they received from the light of the rest of the Moon – which in turn derives its efficacy from the illumination of the Sun – would be reduced as much as possible," Toyohime explained. "To that end, it was determined that I should apply my ability – the power to alter the boundary between reality and fantasy – towards creating a layer around the Moon which would prevent the light of the Moon from reaching a large swathe of the Lunar Capital, namely the area in which Junko and her army had made camp. You may have noticed a cut or indentation in the Moon that you were able to see from Earth – that was the space affected by my spell, a magicless void where no light would shine."

"So, the Moon no longer providing any magic to Gensokyo was all your doing," Byakuren summarized, a tangible hint of frustration in her voice.

"It pains me to admit it, but yes," Toyohime replied somewhat apologetically. "Yet you must understand, Byakuren Hijiri, that without the alteration our defeat would have been complete even before you arrived. It meant the prolonging of our own survival, even if it meant depriving the Earth of its magic for the duration of the battle."

"And the reason you didn't tell us the truth was because you were worried we wouldn't help you if we knew," Marisa added, squinting as she stared down at the princess. "So, you decided to use the truth as your bargaining chip instead."

"Quite so, I am afraid. However, if it is within our power, we will do all we can to make up the difference to you, if you so wish. You have given us new life, after all – the least we can do is whatever we can do."

"You misunderstand, Watatsuki no Toyohime," Reimu said with a slight shake of her head. "It is not the amount of time we spent here, but the fact that you hid what you did from us that upsets us so. Had you been straightforward in your explanations from the beginning, we would still have gladly assisted you in ridding your home of the youkai intruders. We were not going to turn tail and desert those who cried out for help in their hour of need, and it is hugely disappointing that you thought that of us. That's all there is to it."

"I… understand. I apologize unreservedly for my error of judgment." Toyohime bowed as deeply as she could without falling over, clearly regretful about the subversive means by which she had secured our support. "I have much to learn about governance as of yet, and this war – and my interactions with all five of you – have taught me invaluable lessons for the future. I ask only that you forgive me for this trespass."

"It's no matter." Miko stepped forward, placing a hand on Toyohime's shoulder and beckoning her to raise her head. "You are still young, and the fate of the Lunar Capital weighs burdensomely on your shoulders. Mistakes are not the true measure of a good leader; only the lessons that they glean from those mistakes. Leave the politicking to your parents – focus solely on what you do best, and learn to see the good in people. That is all we ask."

Toyohime nodded vigorously. "I will, Toyosatomimi no Miko. This favor I will never, ever forget – I swear it by all that is divine on this good world."

"Good. Thank you for your hospitality over the past week, Watatsuki no Toyohime." All of us bowed, and Toyohime bowed again in response, as did – with a raising of Toyohime's clenched fist – the massed ranks of Defence Corps troops behind her.

With the formalities now concluded, attention now turned to the pressing matter of how we would get off the Moon and return to Gensokyo. Toyohime offered the services of Reisen – her Reisen, not Eientei's – to guide us home through the Dream World passageway through which we had arrived, an offer which we gladly accepted. None of us knew how we might summon the ruler of the Dream World, let alone whether that was a good idea to begin with, and I had the feeling that Doremy Sweet, being an entity who saw all dreams at all times at the same time, had her own problems to attend to. As such, it was left to the lunar iteration of Reisen, a professional, prim and proper moon rabbit inexplicably dressed in a business suit, to guide us back to the guest room where we had taken our first steps on the Moon.

"I had hoped not to end our relationship on sour terms, but be that as it may, I will miss all of you greatly," Toyohime said as we shuffled into the guest room. "Especially you, traveler. You have opened my eyes to a world far, far beyond my initial reckoning. I now see the irreplaceable value in efficiency and communication, and in establishing proper hierarchies within the structure of the Defence Corps. For that, you have my endless thanks, as do the rest of you."

"It is an honor to have been of service, Watatsuki no Toyohime," I replied. The others nodded and expressed their agreement.

"Then I will not keep you any longer. Farewell, and may the winds of fate blow favorably on your days to come." Toyohime stepped out into the corridor, tapping her fingers on the edge of the door as though reluctant to close it. Finally, she lowered her hand towards the handle and, with an almost wistful look on her face, slid the door shut.

"As my mistress ordered, I will open the dimensional access waypoint into the Dream World's Kaian Passageway," Reisen stated monotonously as Toyohime's footsteps disappeared into the distance. The more she spoke, the more pronounced seemed the difference between her and the flustered, insecure Reisen that we knew. "The trip will take approximately twenty-five minutes. Please follow me closely and do not stray too far from the preset path."

She uttered an incantation under her breath and thrust her arms outward towards the end of the room. At once, a pinpoint on the wall stretched out into a vertical line, then a large black rectangle through which a translucent staircase could be seen. Reisen beckoned for us to follow, and we quietly obliged.

The trip back to Gensokyo was shrouded in heavy silence, a product both of Reisen's relative reticence and the physical and mental fatigue of the maidens walking beside me. Well-versed in the art of youkai extermination they might be, but a week's worth of it was bound to exhaust even the most hardened of veterans, especially if the lives of the dozens – if not hundreds – of Lunarians around them hung in the balance. There was no pressure quite like that of the knowledge that the fate of an entire city's worth of inhabitants depended on your ability to beat back myriad hordes of magical creatures, many of whom were far more powerful variants of youkai than their Gensokyo cousins. It had been a testing week for everyone, and it was evident that all they looked forward to now was to return to the comfort of their own home, hoping that no more large-scale incidents came knocking again.

Before long, we found ourselves at the top of another set of translucent stairs which led all the way down into distant oblivion. Reisen stood next to the staircase and genuflected with an arm across her chest. "Please watch your step," she said. "At the base of the stairs, you will find yourself at the entrance to Eientei. I have been personally assured by Eirin Yagokoro that the denizens of Eientei will not attack you upon your return, so you will be free to find your own ways home."

"Thank you, Reisen." We gingerly made our way down the steps, doing our best not to slip on the smooth surface – it would be a long and unforgiving down the dimensional crevasse if we did, and I was unsure if magic in Gensokyo could be used to heal broken bones or restore splintered organs. As was the case when we arrived in the Lunar Capital a week ago, we abruptly found ourselves transported out of the Dream World and back into Gensokyo, as though awakening from a dream.

Our relief, however, was to be immediately and brutally dashed by the reality that rushed forward to confront us.

"What… happened…?" Marisa gasped in disbelief.

The great mansion that was Eientei loomed large as we materialized, its exterior unchanged in its dereliction and grandeur. Around it was the Forest of the Lost, comprised of a thicket of bamboos of varying height, just as it had been when we had last visited. Nothing else appeared out of place – in fact, all would have been seen to be well if not for that which presently gave us fearful pause.

The sky, normally blue and pocked with clouds, was gone. In its place was an all-encompassing mist, a billowing fog not unlike that which blanketed Senkai. Unlike the beige haze of Toyosatomimi no Miko's personal dominion, however, this fog was dyed blood-red, staining our vision with hues of crimson and vermillion, transforming Eientei and the trees surrounding it into black and dark gray silhouettes of their original selves.

"The red mist," Reimu breathed. "But… how?"

"How?" Miko lifted her paper fan to her mouth and tapped it on her lips, her eyes narrowing with dreadful realization. "You and I know how. There can only be one answer."

She paused, and pointed her fan out into the endless, unceasing veneer of red, as though gesturing towards something unseen, something insidious, something that lurked in the scarlet shadow.

"The Scarlet Devil Mansion," she intoned. "They have finally made their move."

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, when I was still new to the ways of this world, I had ventured blindly into a realm where all was subsumed into a great, crimson veil, its vermillion glare so suffocating, so all-encompassing, that just to stare out into the abyss was enough to send forth the fringes of insanity creeping from out of the corners of my mind, the sheer redness eating away at my consciousness as the Palanquin Ship sallied onwards into the belly of the Gensokyo underworld. A similar sensation was threatening to overtake me here, yet unlike the fog of Makai, what made the red mist before us so uncanny was the fact that its color dyed a seemingly familiar world, one that had welcomed me into its arms with warmth and no small measure of kindness, a land that was now doused in bloody, callous unfamiliarity.

However, what made the scene so unsettling, even more so than the redness, was the deafening hush that had fallen upon the world. On a normal day, the forest would be alive with the ring of critters chirping and leaves rustling, the noises echoing softly through the maze of trees, melding and meshing into a single hum; now, such sounds were only conspicuous by their absence. It was as if the blanket of crimson had choked all else that lived and breathed under in it into sullen, sedated silence, leaving only our own footsteps and our own breathing for us to hear.

"This phenomenon is known to us, traveler." Reimu bent down and plucked a blade of grass from the ground, peering closely at its veins as she turned it over in her hands. "We know its source. But evidently, it seems that the promise made to never unleash it upon Gensokyo again was broken. For what reason… well, the Mansion dwellers are a fickle bunch. One can only speculate."

Miko, who had clambered up the steps of Eientei's impressive front porch, knocked tentatively at the large wooden doors, to which there was no response. "No answer," she muttered. "Not that they wouldn't have realized that we were coming back, anyway. However, I highly doubt Eirin, of all people, would leave the place so unguarded."

"I am loath to think they would have allowed the red mist to remain as-is, despite their policy of not interfering in the general affairs of Gensokyo," Reimu noted. "After all, there is no moonlight to be found under an opaque cloak such as this. Does that mean they went to deal with the matter at its origin?"

"The moon rabbits aren't here in the Bamboo Forest, either." Marisa emerged from the thicket where she had been searching, shaking her head as she extinguished her lantern, its light rendered essentially ineffective in the smog. "Neither is Reisen – Gensokyo's Reisen – nor the princess. Either way," she clicked her tongue, "the only answers we'll find will be at the Mansion. There's not a moment to lose; we have to head there now."

"Please wait a moment."

We turned to look at Byakuren, who had a keenly distressed look on her face.

"What is it, Byakuren?" queried Miko impatiently. "You know what it is that we have to do. The longer this mist remains, the more damage it will be free to cause."

Byakuren pursed her lips. "Be that as it may, my priority is the Myouren Temple, and I must check on its condition and the wellbeing of my disciples there. If you are going to the Scarlet Devil Mansion directly, then I will have to join you later, but I am obliged to return to my abode first and foremost."

"You don't have to join us if you don't want to," Miko replied offhandedly. "Not that it would make that much of a difference whether you were there or not."

Reimu cleared her throat. "Cease this chatter," she said sternly. "Toyosatomimi no Miko, the monk is right to be concerned for the safety of her followers – in fact, I suggest that we head towards the Human Village first to see if its residents are well, before making our way to Misty Lake. Byakuren, I urge you to exercise all due haste if you are to embark on a detour. We will need all the help we can get, especially considering who we are up against. If you must go, then please do so immediately."

"I apologize for my indiscretion," murmured Byakuren. "I will take my leave now, then." She slipped into the mist and vanished before I could even wave in farewell.

Marisa sighed heavily as she watched Byakuren's silhouette dissipate. "Seems like we just can't catch a break," she remarked. "And I was looking forward to checking up on my stall, too. Fate has a funny way of keeping you on your toes."

"It is not fate but circumstance that leads us here," Reimu responded quietly. "We chose to go to the Moon, but our departure was evidently ill-timed."

Marisa squinted, more in resignation than in annoyance. "Aren't fate and circumstance the same thing?"

"Not so. Fate is immutable, determined by the ways of the world that surrounds us; circumstance, on the other hand, is changeable and indeed regularly changed, a thing to be reacted to, to be altered and bent for the betterment of ourselves. For instance, it is fate that brings the traveler here to Gensokyo, but he has long since been at work at improving the circumstances he finds himself in." Reimu pressed her eyelids and blinked as hard as she could. "Anyway, enough talk. I would advise against flying, given that we have no idea what awaits us beyond the murk, and I do not relish the notion of hurtling headlong into a barrier spell. We shall have to make the journey by foot." Without another word, she began walking forward into the unknown, and we closely followed.

As we trekked, Miko pulled up alongside me and stared up at me inquisitively.

"Something on your mind, traveler?" she asked. "Normally, you'd be full of questions. Specifically, if I could hazard a guess, about Reimu saying that she'd seen this red mist before."

"Prescient as always." I mustered a small laugh. "I guess I'm just a bit overwhelmed by everything that's happened so far. I'd been meaning to get a good, long period of rest when I came back to Gensokyo, but as Reimu says, fate – or circumstance, rather – is a cruel mistress." I spread my arms around at the searing fog around us. "What purpose does all this serve, anyway? If it were some sort of poison, I doubt we would have lasted this long."

"It is poison, in a fashion. But not a poison that takes life." Miko made a scooping motion with her hand, as if collecting some of the vermillion vapor into her palm. "It is a poison of magic, and of the etheric energy that suffuses through Gensokyo. The full details escape me, but know that the longer we linger, the weaker we'll grow. As for the other denizens… their present state does not bear imagining, hence the need for haste. You should count yourself lucky that you have such a great store of magic within you – if you were an average human, you would have fallen into total enervation by now."

Hearing that was some small comfort, though I was forced to wonder about those that I had come to know and enjoy the company of in the Human Village, from the owner of the tavern at which I had boarded to those that I worked with at Suzunaan, including its diminutive shopkeeper Kosuzu and her family. If what Miko said was true – and thus far, everything she'd told me had been so – then I might have to brace myself for an unsavory sight upon entering the Village. After arriving here, I had only managed to retain my composure and good cheer even in the face of impending adversity because I had somewhere to fall back to, a safe haven where I knew I could remain unharmed. Now, that veneer of safety was rapidly crumbling before my eyes, and with it came, for the first time, a keen sense of panic. I trusted my companions to know what to do and to keep me safe, but there was no questioning that for now, they were also at something of a loss as to what was truly going on, and why.

"The Human Village is just up ahead," Marisa cautioned. "It'd probably be best if we got ready for the possibility of combat. Traveler, you stay with Miko. Reimu and I will take the front."

Miko and I nodded. "Got it. Don't you worry, traveler," said the hermit as she glanced over at me. "You think about yourself first. They'll be just fine."

"Of course," I replied. I had no reason to believe otherwise. After all, if there was anyone in the land who could handle themselves in a fight, it was those two.

Reimu withdrew a fan of paper talismans from her dress pouch and held them up into the air. With a tap of her wrist, the talismans glowed a bright shade of azure, then fluttered into the air and out of sight. Closing her eyes, she summoned a pair of spinning orbs around her arm and lifted her hand up, stretching it out into the distance.

"No signs of magic left in the Village," she observed. "Either they are all unconscious, or they have been transported elsewhere. Or worse…" Reimu let her words trail off.

"A terrible yet realistic possibility, but we should not let it stay our feet." Miko gestured forwards, where the outlines of the Village's outer walls could be seen looming out of the scarlet shadow. "Let's go."

We hurried into the village proper as quickly and as quietly as we could, stopping briefly at the first intersection we arrived at. All four of the streets leading away from our position were, as expected, completely deserted, with nary a hint of life to be detected. I remembered all the times I had walked past this intersection, watching as the people went about their daily lives, marveling at the simultaneously surprising and pleasant variety of stores that had sprung up even in a place with such limited resources and comparatively primitive technology. To see the shop fronts now hollowed and devoid of activity, as though the windows were gaping holes through which the souls of each place had been ripped out, was haunting to say the least.

All the more reason, then, to find out exactly what had triggered this calamity.

"Do you hear that?" Miko abruptly whispered.

The rest of us stopped in our tracks. "Hear what?" Reimu asked.

"Footsteps. Lots of them, too."

Marisa frowned, as if trying to focus her ears. After a while, she shook her head. "You sure you're not just hearing things?"

"The hermit's auditory capacities are several times better than our own, even with those earmuffs on her head." Reimu reached into her sleeve and pulled out a paper seal. "If you can trust her on anything, it's this. Ready up."

Marisa thumped her broomstick on the ground, and a ripple of lightning formed around her boots, shrouding her lower body in crackling energy. Miko unsheathed her sword, its spherical pommel turning a deep, broiling orange as she channeled her magic into its blade. I was, as usual, left to wring my hands and place myself in the protection of those more capable.

Out of the unknown came forth a first silhouette, followed by another, then another. Soon, a veritable horde had emerged, filling the street whence they came from end to end. They were humanoid in appearance, though their eyes were dull and sparkless, their faces paler than the Moon, their physiognomies gray, ashen and sapped of blood. They staggered forward as though their limbs were led by puppet strings, their footing unsure and on the verge of sending them stumbling onto the dirt, yet never quite unstable enough to cause them to actually do so. Though slow, their progress continued unabated, and they would be upon us before long if we did not make our move. Yet just as Marisa was about to let fly with her first salvo, Reimu put a hand on her arm and tugged at her sleeve.

"Wait, Marisa, Miko," the shrine maiden said under her breath. "Something's wrong."

"What do you mean, 'something's wrong'?" Marisa hissed, reluctantly dousing the electricity coiling around her fingers. "We're about to be set upon by those… things!"

"That's my point." Reimu's eyebrows creased deeply as she scrutinized the incoming threat. "They're not 'things'. Look closely."

As we followed Reimu's instructions, we saw just what it was that gave her pause. The beings were humanoid, I now realized to my horror, because they were human. They were the ones who had called the Human Village home, the ones who had resided here peacefully all this time, now suddenly and cruelly reduced to little more than a mass of thoughtless, mindless mannequins. My fears were further confirmed when, in the second or third row, I could barely identify a petite-looking figure whose features, though shrouded in that dreadful red fog, were unmistakable to me.

Particularly when she wore the same yellow apron that I had always seen her wear, in all the time that I had been working at her bookstore.

A fulmination of brilliant light snapped me out of my reverie.

"Come hither, traveler!" Miko grabbed my shoulder, and we turned and began our retreat from the intersection, heading back the way we had come towards the forest. Marisa stayed behind for a while, continuing to lay down a blanket of energy that caught the frontmost rows of the horde in a web of paralyzing lightning, but she, too, eventually was forced to released her spell, and she hastily joined us at the border of the Village.

The witch's caution in emitting just the right amount of magic was understandable. She wanted to hold them back, but she didn't want to kill them outright, and neither did any of the rest of us – a constraint that presented its own array of problems, seeing as most non-magical humans did not have the capacity or fortitude to withstand even the most restrained of supernatural blows, especially when they were discharged by my companions. The unwitting swarm of villagers, though marching forward at an unhurried pace, seemingly were not easily deterred, perhaps even more so than would be considered normal, and the others agreed with my assessment.

"Maybe their possession – if we can call it that – is granting them strength beyond their usual means," Reimu suggested as we disappeared further and further into the forest, gradually leaving the silhouette of the Village behind as it was swallowed wholly into the mist. "Whatever magic has been cast upon them, though, I must confess is still something of a mystery to me. I have some experience with charms and other similar spells that can weaken a person's will or hypnotize them for brief moments of time, but nothing quite of this ilk."

"I am in as much in the dark as you are," Miko said quietly, a rare admission for someone as proud of her own vast repository of knowledge as her. "Though if we are to take into account the surrounding environment, I think the nature – and the source – of this power is quite clear."

"The Mansion," Marisa remarked, and the others nodded.

"I've heard stories of sorcery of a vampiric nature which saps the blood and the zest for life of those who are subject to it," Miko continued. "But, again, nothing quite like this. Either they have employed some devilry whose provenance is not yet known to us, or they have been hard at work developing such a power. Either way, our observations of the Scarlet family have been woefully and regrettably ignorant. And…" Miko snuck a glance at me. "I hate to say this, but it is possible – even probable – that the traveler's presence in this realm has been the spark for their machinations to be set in motion. After all, they did erase your memories and then release you into Gensokyo for a reason. They are malicious, but they are not by any means stupid."

"Apportioning blame to the traveler now, of all times, seems an ill-timed endeavor," Reimu noted dryly.

"My intention wasn't to blame him at all, but I suppose you are correct," Miko replied apologetically. "That was merely the first notion that surfaced in my mind. Think little of it, traveler."

I chuckled half-heartedly. "Well, as harsh as your words might sound, you may just be right, Toyosatomimi no Miko. It's as you say – there are a lot of questions that remain unanswered as long as I am around. And, selfish as it may be for me to say this, I would like to get to the bottom of all this – the red mist, the fate of the human villagers, and my own individual concerns as well. It would not sit well with me to depart from this world – or this life – without having them resolved."

"Of course." Reimu nodded towards the way forward, which led deeper into the Forest of Magic, as I currently realized we had arrived within by the sudden sight of the sparkling spores soaring swiftly through the scarlet fog. "That's what we're here for."

"Then we haven't a moment to lose," Miko said. And with that, we continued to walk onwards unto the unknown.

Whilst we journeyed, Reimu periodically set loose a mixture of talismans and shikigami to scout around the area ahead and scan for any signs of life. However, none were to be found, and we were allowed to ostensibly carry on unhindered. That, however, only seemed to put my acquaintances even more on edge – if we eventually met with some obstacle, it would either be too powerful for Reimu's spells to detect, or it would be some form of static sorcery, such as a trap or magic circle. Either way, we would have to tread lightly, no matter how big our sticks were.

As yet another flurry of paper was released, a thought came to mind.

"Reimu, as you mentioned, those talismans can detect any lifeform," I said. "Correct?"

Reimu, clearly puzzled by the question, nodded. "Quite so."

"Then…" I paused. "Why did they not detect the people in the Human Village?"

The shrine maiden stopped in her tracks, and the rest of us also came to a halt behind her. "You… are not wrong. Why, indeed? They did not seem dead – I could tell they had some life in them yet."

"Life, or magic?" Miko stroked her chin, her eyebrows furrowing as she pondered the question. "I certainly detected the latter in them, but the two are not readily distinguished without careful examination. If they were already dead, then perchance it might be a simple matter to instill external magic within them and animate them according to the will of the caster, but to have them all murdered in cold blood for the sake of any unforeseen reason, not least to transform them into little more than puppets and playthings… well, it is not a pleasant thought, simply put."

"Maybe this big mist is snuffing out your magic, Reimu," Marisa offered. "But if that's true…"

"Then the talismans would not operate properly in any case, and I would have been sending them on a fool's errand," Reimu finished with a sigh. "Regardless, we cannot afford to withhold anything here. We are at an immense disadvantage here, to speak of our situation in the bluntest terms. Fruitless or not, I must try."

"I think that may not be necessary anymore," Miko muttered. "Look around."

We did so, and found, to our desperate surprise, that our moment of respite had been grossly ill-timed. The possessed villagers had caught up with us, having evidently moved at a far greater speed than anticipated when out of our line of sight, and were now encircling our position, closing every last visible escape route, squeezing us into a space that grew tinier and tinier by the second. My back touched the others', and Marisa quickly pulled me behind her.

"Stand back, traveler," she warned as she gritted her teeth. "This might turn nasty. I'd hope not to cause any lasting damage, especially not to these people, but… do we have a choice?"

"Maybe that won't be necessary, if you but surrender quietly."

We turned towards the direction of the new voice as it pierced through the gloom. Amidst the cresting and troughing silhouettes of the horde, a shadowy figure glided menacingly through the fog and gradually into view. Her dress and loose-fitting cap were stained with the red of the surrounding air, painting green into black, white into pink; her hair, the same shade of crimson as the vapor that coalesced around it, took on an even bloodier hue. Though she wielded neither sword nor stave, her confident gait and purposeful strides towards us told me all that I needed to know about her strength.

"You trespass on the grounds of the Mansion that neighbor the Lake," the newcomer continued. "As the Mansion's keeper, I am duty-bound to forbid you from passing any further. If you would like to depart with your lives intact – or the lives of those you care for – then you may do so on one sole condition."

"What would that be?" asked Marisa.

The newcomer jabbed a finger towards me.

"The human traveler must come with me to the Mansion. That is all I – and my mistress – ask. We will even free the villagers from their spell, as a gesture of goodwill, so long as you abide by our request. A simple transaction to make, if you think rationally. After all, what is the life of one human against the freedom of many?"

Miko drew her sword and raised it in front of me, ostensibly to shield me from whatever might come our way next. "Don't presume to lay the veil over our eyes, Hong Meiling. You say that you will not trade his life for their freedom, but you make no mention of whether they are alive or dead."

Hong Meiling's small smile did not abate. "That's not a question I'm at liberty to answer, unfortunately. Though I commend you on seeing through my choice of words."

"We have no time for your games," Miko replied, an undercurrent of threat clear in her words. "If you won't free the humans on your own terms, then you will free them on ours. And you won't like what those terms will be."

Meiling chortled. "I had a feeling you'd say that. No matter – I'm sure you'll understand in time, traveler. But before that…"

She bent her knees slightly, and then, without warning, she disappeared.

"What-"

My vision was immediately filled with the leering, mocking features of the gatekeeper. None of my companions could even fathom reacting in time – she had zipped towards me in the blink of an eye, at a velocity far faster than any of us could follow. There was to be no escape for me, and judging by the shock that spread across the others' faces, we all knew it.

"Peekaboo," she whispered, and reached a swooping hand towards me.

Yet just as she was about to take hold of me and abscond with her prize in tow, her own arm was abruptly locked in place by the grip of another. Someone else had materialized at unimaginable speed from the mist, and it was, to my considerable relief, one who I understood to have physical abilities that might rival that of Meiling's.

"You will not lay a hand on the traveler, Hong Meiling," said Byakuren Hijiri. "Not on our watch."

Meiling flung Byakuren's grip aside and took a few hasty steps backwards, her initial leer having all but twisted into a scowl.

"I was wondering why you weren't here," she commented loftily, though despite her attempt at nonchalance, her strained tone of voice betrayed her vexation.

"Surprised?" Byakuren held up a straightened palm in front of her eyes and curled her fingers into a fist, beckoning her adversary forward.

"Not particularly. My mistress's information is never wrong. I had an inkling you'd be nearby." Without warning, Meiling launched forward again, this time towards the monk, who braced herself with both arms and met Meiling's hammer blow with equal and irrepressible fervor. Planting a foot behind her to steady herself, Byakuren pushed off the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt and dust behind her, and speared forth in the hopes of catching Meiling unawares whilst she was still reeling from the force of Byakuren's reply. Meiling, however, proved every bit Byakuren's equal in that regard, spinning around and countering Meiling's riposte with a thrust of her own.

As the two of them gripped and grappled for that transient moment of physical superiority which might decide their skirmish, Byakuren turned half an eye towards us and yelled, "Go! While you still have the time to do so!"

"I don't think so!" Meiling made a second dash for us – and for me in particular – but her progress was once again stalled by Byakuren's bodily barrier, another pair of braced arms greeting her, standing strong in her path. Evidently deciding that the only way to us was through her opponent, Meiling unleashed an immeasurably fast flurry of blows, each thrust bursting invisible bubbles of sound as they whistled through the air, each impact reverberating noisily around the expanse as they met the flesh of the monk's arms. Yet Byakuren appeared otherwise unperturbed, with only her eyes narrowing in concentration as she continued to parry each incoming punch, matching Meiling's salvos fist for fist, jab for jab, elbow for elbow.

Powerful as Reimu, Marisa and Miko might be, they could never hope to nullify the pure physical threat of someone of Meiling's ilk without causing irreparable damage to the neighboring environs, and to those possessed villagers who, despite their deathly physiognomies and hollow, gaunt expressions, still retained an uncanny familiarity that stayed the maidens' hand. Which, of course, played right into whatever plans the denizens of the Scarlet Devil Mansion had been busy concocting. Our best course was to flee, and hope – and trust – that Byakuren was up to the challenge of holding Hong Meiling back.

"We're counting on you, Byakuren! Let's go!" Marisa flung out an arm, sparks of fire and electricity catching at her fingers as she aimed her fingers towards the horde. "Sorry, guys!" she yelled. "This is gonna hurt!"

A magic circle spun into existence, hovering parallel to Marisa's palm, drawing a mystifying array of runes and spells into the air, gathering a rapidly amplifying inferno of swirling power into the center of the ring. Without warning, the blinding heat was sucked into an infinitesimal pinpoint, and for the briefest of moments, it vanished, leaving stars dancing in our eyes as we attempted to restore our vision in the far darker surrounds of the crimson haze.

Then, the light returned in an untrammeled torrent of ethereal fury, rocketing forth from the magic circle, shooting a cylindrical beam of pure plasma that speared into the unseen distance, throwing anyone caught in its warpath violently to one side and sending them sprawling unceremoniously onto the grass, singing the leaves and branches overhead until they were black with soot and ash.

"Come on!" Marisa grabbed me and veritably threw me onto the broom behind her, which she had long since mounted whilst I was busy admiring her handiwork. "We're flying the rest of the way!"

"I thought you said-"

"There's never any time for caution, traveler, as you well know." Miko slapped me on the back and winked at Marisa and Reimu. "Let's get a move on!"

"For once, I'm minded to agree with you, Toyosatomimi no Miko!" Marisa primed the tip of her broomstick and, with a forceful push off the ground, we picked up speed as quickly as the rickety old device would allow. Before long, we were arrowing through the woods, wind whipping painfully against my face as I strained to see what was around us, let alone where we might be headed.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Marisa!" I yelled as we narrowly avoided colliding headfirst into a particularly stout and girthy tree trunk. Somehow, hearing my panic seemed to entertain the witch, who laughed heartily and accelerated in response.

"Don't you worry, traveler! We're taking a shortcut!"

"A shortcut? Where-" And suddenly, the ground beneath my feet disappeared, the shock of which was almost enough for me to loosen my grip around Marisa's waist and fall into whatever abyss awaited me below. Yet as I peered closer – at least, as close as I dared to look – I noticed that the air displaced by our breakneck flight was causing a trail of eddies to form in our wake.

"You remember Misty Lake, don't you, traveler?" Reimu queried as she floated up beside us.

I nodded. "It's been quite a while."

"Some journey it has been, indeed," Reimu agreed with a wistful smile, the tresses of hair guarding her ears fluttering elegantly behind her as she soared. "In the end, all things make their way back to their source. In that respect, fate is little different." She spread her arms, beckoning at the mirror of water surrounding us. "How fitting that we would come back to the place where it all began, and where your eyes were first opened to the wonders of this world we all share."

"It's just as you say."

"Look sharp," Miko warned, drawing our attentions back to the task at hand. "Up ahead lies the Mansion. Its shadow is unmistakable."

Sure enough, it was but a matter of moments before I caught first sight of the unsettling silhouette of the place to which my travels, vivid and varied as they were, had always been destined to ultimately lead. Its rugged outline, pocked by arrays of sharp spires that jutted from its broad, slanted roof, marred and distorted by disrepair and disrepute, spoke of the callous cruelty of its immortal inhabitants, and of the evils that – if the others' warnings were to be heeded – were conducted deep inside the murky recesses of this unholy manor. A stone wall materialized into view around the Mansion as we neared, its eerie yet imposing façade matched only by the gate of twisted black iron towards which we continued our swift traversal.

"Have utmost care," Reimu urged as we began to decelerate. "The gatekeeper may not be present, but she is the weakest of the Mansion's scions. Far greater dangers lurk within."

We came to a halt in front of the gate, which loomed ever larger from up close, the leering metal bars which comprised its face staring down upon us, daring us to enter. The gate was slightly ajar, and there would be no question of our being able to walk in. Whether we were truly ready to do so, however, was another matter entirely. Even Reimu, as powerful a magician as she was, appeared slightly perturbed by the prospect, her brow tangibly creased in concern as she gazed into the garden of tangled and twisted weeds that flanked the Mansion proper.

"This is it, I suppose." Marisa looked at each of us in turn. "Shall we?"

"No time like the present." Miko shrugged, and reached out for the gate. Yet just as her fingers brushed against the steel, the gentle sound of susurration behind us froze us in place, staying our feet, catching our breath in our throats.

"I would advise against your entrance," said a dreadfully recognizable voice to which I was, against my best intentions, undeniably well-acquainted. "Especially you, human traveler from beyond. You may find that what you have been seeking for so long… is also the last thing that you ever wanted to know."

I had heard this voice before. Not just once, and not just twice.

"A rarity, to see the librarian out and about," Reimu remarked, who had spun around and faced our latest adversary. I did the same, and there, in all her purple-clad, weary-eyed glory, was the one who had brought me here, the one who had set me upon the path to discover myself under the pretense of a thirst for discovery, not knowing that it was she who had robbed my memories and stolen my faculties in the first place. From her the great question stemmed, and from her the answer would be gleaned – at least, should we be able to coerce her into divulgation. And for a being like her, who wielded such untold power and such unlimited knowledge, that was – to severely understate the point – by no means guaranteed.

But Patchouli Knowledge had no eyes for those she already knew and understood, to the point of familiar contempt. Her stare, unflinching in its focus, was fixed solely upon my person. Ignoring Reimu's comment, she continued to speak only to me, her voice soft yet flowing with purpose, drowning out all the other worthless noise, permeating deep into my mind.

"Your ignorance has saved you thus far, but that will soon come to its end." She adjusted the cap on her head, sighing as she did so. "A pity; I would have liked to observe your development in this domain further. All good things must, however, come to their inevitable ends. Not even one such as yourself can fight against the finitude of life, and of being itself."

"You're not giving him much of a choice," Marisa muttered. "Neither are you giving any of us a choice. Your little experiment ends here, Patchouli. Return Gensokyo to its prior state, or you'll regret ever coming out of your hidey-hole down in the Mansion basement."

"Vulgar as always, Marisa Kirisame," Patchouli replied with a disapproving click of her tongue. "I have always been loath to leave the comfort of my chambers, and what little I have witnessed here today has failed to change my mind. The only reassurance I can provide myself is that I will not have to contend with this distraction much longer." She withdrew a slip of paper from her gown pocket and held it up in the air. "Traveler, if you so desire to break the spell chaining your thoughts to blissful innocence that you would risk everything you know and love to achieve that end, then I shall be waiting for you in the library." The paper, which I realized was a talisman, began to glow red. "Farewell, for now."

"Wait!" Marisa launched a blast of lightning towards Patchouli, but when the smoke cleared, all that was left was a black patch of flattened grass on the ground where Patchouli had been standing just moments before. "Damn it!" she snarled. "I knew that witch was behind all this! I knew it!"

"Save some of that spark for later, Marisa," Miko advised, though she, too, could not suppress the troubled look that currently claimed her features. "We must follow her into the Mansion."

"Maybe we should have done that sooner," Reimu noted. "Here comes the brigade."

Out of the mist and from within the confines of the Mansion, an army of youkai were advancing upon us, comprised of beasts and spirits of every size and shape, from the smallest, daintiest of fairies, to the most hulking and heavy-set specimens of ancient lore and legend; from tengu to kappa, from sprites to dragons. They were united by one single, burning purpose: to defend their masters, and to keep us at bay.

Marisa blew an exasperated breath through her nose. "This is going to be one hell of a fight. Where did they keep all those youkai in that tiny hut?"

"And not just that." Reimu gestured at something behind us, and we turned to look. There, making their way slowly around the perimeter of the lake, was the throng of villagers we had left behind, ambling through the bushes, uncaring of the branches that scraped against their faces as they rumbled towards us. It was clear, then, that Byakuren must have faltered in her skirmish against the gatekeeper, yet her wellbeing, though important, did not take precedence ahead of our own at this point in time. We were trapped between a rock and a hard place, with neither the will nor the room to flee. Either the other three would have to take some drastic and potentially unforgivable measures, or they would have to allow themselves – and myself – to be overrun, making one last final sacrifice for the good of the realm that they so loved.

But that choice would, to our unimaginable surprise, soon be made for us.

High above our heads, the scarlet fog exploded into color, a brilliant kaleidoscope of magical swirls and etheric glitter that swarmed over the land, glistening as it descended into the treetops, filling the canopies with a dazzling cornucopia of lavish luminescence and luxurious luster, stunning both the youkai and possessed villagers into wide-eyed, paralyzing silence. From far, far in the horizon, the sound of a lone horn blared, sweeping through the thick air, piercing the all-encompassing veil like a blade through cloth. A row of magic circles descended from the sky, expelling beams of crystalline charms that sought out the nearest villager and instantly bound them to the ground, shackling them with chains that sprouted out of the dirt and coiled around their hapless forms, holding on firmly despite their desperate struggles.

At the same time, the drumming of footsteps entered my ears, and I turned to face the origin of this new noise. One, two, three, and then soon an uncountable number of figures marched forth, their forms radiating seemingly the same type of energy from which our salvation continued to fall, from the multicolored orifices that had been opened in the sky. At their head, to my immediate and irrepressible relief, was a diminutive figure who bore a determined and stern expression as she approached, yet broke into a knowing smile upon spotting us. She gestured towards those that had followed her all the way here, and pointed forward.

"Lunarian Defence Corps!" called the princess of the Moon, Watatsuki no Toyohime. "Forward, with me!"

What occurred next, as the two great armies we were squeezed between met in the middle and commenced their respective assaults upon one another, could scarcely be describe in the inadequate terms of a human who, until barely months ago, would never have dreamed that magic or other supernatural forces of its ilk even existed, much less could be deployed to such devastating effect as it was now. But, just as I have done throughout my journey thus far, I will endeavor to communicate the phenomenon, the sheer miracle of the senses, that now unfolded before me.

Imagine, if you will, a place where the great blanket of stars in the sky has descended upon the earth, covering the landscape in its splendor, dotting the trees and the grass with flashes of sprite-like, burgeoning light that have now grown into mature, enduring, yet no less awe-inspiring orbs of pure illumination, ranging in every color from white to blue to red to yellow to orange. Then, imagine that those stars have begun to oscillate, first vibrating, then rotating about an unseen axis, before being released entirely from their points of reference and flying free about the air, zipping from one end of the world to the other, spearing into the sky whence they came, leaving behind trails of dust and glitter. For a while, they hang in the air, as though suspended once again by the machinations of the void of space. Then, with abrupt yet brilliant aplomb, they come spiraling back down, raining unto those hapless souls that are trapped under their irrepressible storm, bursting into a spellbinding inferno of unbridled, raw energy, consuming all and anything in their wake as they perish in a violent crescendo of flame and fulmination. The sound accompanying all this fanfare is, too, equally chaotic and equally breathtaking, an intermingling cacophony of explosions, fizzles, rumbles and more, heart-stopping in the scale of the destruction wrought alongside the noise, but so fascinating as to render one motionless in the face of its all-consuming wrath. That was, in sum, what confronted me now, a scene that could scarcely be described or detailed, but only felt, only experienced.

As Reimu threw up a shield of whirling red talismans around us, and Marisa rolled up her sleeves and got to work on the youkai, just as she was wont to do, Toyohime drew near, bowing deeply as she approached.

"It is a pleasure to see you again so soon," she said with a wry smile, her calm voice penetrating and clearly audible even amidst the din.

"Watatsuki no Toyohime." Toyosatomimi no Miko, as the seemingly least preoccupied of us, returned Toyohime's greeting with a grin of her own. "You sly Lunarian. I must admit, it is a relief to have you here. We were not wholly in trouble if we needed to flee, but we would have had no means of storming the Scarlet Devil Mansion on our lonesome. Your intervention is most welcome, and I trust I speak for the others when I say this." Upon hearing this, Reimu and Marisa voiced their agreement as well.

Toyohime spread her arms and gestured at the array of mages behind her. "Call upon the Lunar Capital, and the Lunar Capital shall come. We do not shirk our duty, nor fail to return any favors. Your efforts preserved our homeland, and you came to our aid even despite my initial deception. It is only fair – or rather, it is only right – that we come to you when you are in your own hour of need."

"But how did you know about our predicament?" Reimu, who had finished casting her barrier, made her way over to the princess. "Forgive me for saying this, but word does not exactly travel fast between Gensokyo and the Moon. And what of the barrier around the Lunar Capital, which I recall you said you were responsible for?"

"A fair point," Toyohime acknowledged. "For this, you have our most loyal servant to thank. Reisen – our Reisen, that is – noticed the state of the land just as you departed, and immediately sought me out upon returning to the Lunar Capital. We may be largely removed from your affairs, but we know your history well, and we have some knowledge, however rudimentary, of the existence and provenance of the great scarlet smog. It behooved me to summon whatever help I could ask to join me – which, following your kind assistance, involved a fair number of the Corps indeed – and we set out post haste to the Scarlet Devil Mansion, hoping to ease whatever burdens you might be bearing. Lo and behold, we find you here, and I can only thank fortune that we have made it in time. As for the barrier…" A frown overtook Toyohime's features briefly, though it was soon dispelled. "I have already taught my sister how to control the magic that maintains it. My only hope is that I do not return to a frozen wasteland when all is said and done, but I have faith in her abilities, and I pray that you, in turn, have faith in my choices."

"Of course; we have seen what she can do. It is most appreciated." Reimu turned to gaze out at the Mansion, where youkai and Lunarian alike were locked in fierce combat, claw meeting shield, spell meeting scales, a dance of the ethereal and the corporeal that put each side's merits and weaknesses to the ultimate test. "Now, though, I must ask for your help once again, Watatsuki no Toyohime. We must find some way to enter that place. Within lies the solution to everything that troubles us now: to the mist, to the traveler's memories, and to the fate of this realm at large."

"Very well. I will see if we can establish a route. Speaking of the traveler," she said as she glanced up at me, "we have learned much in the days past thanks to your guidance, and I hope you will see the results of our newfound organization bearing fruit here. Please observe."

I did so, and just as Toyohime suggested, the more I saw of what the Lunarian Defence Corps were currently doing, the more impressed I became. Instead of the disoriented, directionless mass of soldiers that had struggled through the streets of the Lunarian Capital in the early days of the Moon's invasion by the denizens of Hell, the Corps were now strategic, efficient, purpose salient in every action, split into groups of roughly ten mages per squad, the squad leader designated by each cell barking orders and deftly moving their team about like pieces on a chessboard. The Lunarians might have been "primitive" in their ways, as Toyohime once suggested, but ignorance was no real indicator of intellect, and of the capacity to learn. Against a rabble of youkai that numbered far greater than them, they more than held their own, and in fact, were beginning to push them back towards the Mansion proper.

"We can watch them another time. For now, we must seize the initiative while we still have it." Miko unsheathed her sword and pointed its blade towards the Mansion. "Watatsuki no Toyohime, on your mark."

"As you wish. Lunarian Defence Corps! Clear the way! We are going in!"

As we began our arduous push forwards, the four of them unleashing spells of all shapes and sizes at any youkai that strayed too close, I took once last look at the people of the Human Village, who remained bound by the spell that emanated from the heavens, continuing to shackle their feet and legs in place, pulling them down the more they toiled mindlessly against their bonds. But there was little point in ruminating over what had happened to them, or why it had happened – the key to all the answers we sought lay straight ahead.

I hoped I would see them again, free and unbound by the wanton whims of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. I hoped to shake their hands and remind them that all was well.

The Mansion doors, just like the rest of the Mansion – and indeed, just like its scions – belied the strength of their construction. At first blush, they appeared rickety, derelict, reinforced only by wrought iron wrappings strapped across the wooden boards they comprised. But closer inspection revealed that their surfaces seemed to hum and vibrate, like the blurred mirage that arose from the scorching hot sands of a desert in the outside world. Clearly, there was more at work than first met the eye. The others, of course, quickly recognized this, and we stopped mere inches away from the portal, as though we might be able to simply push them open with our hands, but never actually doing so.

"Allow me." The shrine maiden stepped forward and unfurled her long, flowing white sleeves. From within, a cascade of cards poured forth, attaching themselves to the doors from hinge to handle until the entirety of the wooden façade was plastered with fluttering paper. Then, with a wave of her hand and a snap of her fingers, the cards withered and burned into ash, and with them, the segments of the door to which they were attached. What little remained of the wood soon crumbled into nothing.

At long last, the interior of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was laid bare for all the world to see. Such was the intensity of the glare of the fighting behind us that to peer into the darkness was to stare into an abyss from which it appeared not even light could escape, the beginning of a dog-eared red carpet stretching into oblivion all that could reasonably be discerned. Otherwise, we would have to rely solely on whatever illumination we could conjure ourselves.

Together, we took our first steps into the Mansion.

Marisa lifted her lantern, breathing a plume of fire into the wick, yet such was the all-encompassing nature of the murk that it shone no further than a few paces from where we stood, as though cut abruptly by some imperceptible obstacle. Reimu produced her own glowing orb that floated around her head, but it, too, did not have much effect in the face of the sheer dark. Additionally, it was not only light that seemed to lose its power in these halls – the sounds that had surrounded us before we entered were instantly silenced, snuffed out like a candle in a strong gust of wind, leaving only the deafening echoes of our footsteps reverberating about the corridors and into the unseen distance.

We walked, slowly but surely, observing the environment around us – at least, what little we could make out from what little vision we had. The walls were exactly as I had seen in my brief stint "here", in another timeline or universe far removed from our present reality: drab beige and gray, peeling at the corners in some places, unkept, unkempt, and in dire want of restoration. The floorboards groaned and creaked frequently as we made our way deeper, the thick, shaggy carpet unable to mask the disrepair that plagued them. At least we knew that wherever those that inhabited this manor were, they would hear us coming long before we heard them.

Once every so often, a gold-framed painting hung on the wall would enter into view, coated in a thin film that suggested it, as with every other aspect of this Mansion, had not been very well taken of. Some depicted abstract scenes of some barren land which bore little resemblance to what I had seen of Gensokyo thus far; others were of people, if they could be called that, whose stony gazes followed us as we passed. As we carried on, the sight of one of these paintings immediately gave me pause, and my feet were duly halted.

"What is it, traveler?" Reimu stopped, as did the others, and turned to see what I was looking at.

"This painting." I pointed up. "I've seen it before."

Miko's eyebrows were slowly raised as she registered what I was talking about. "You mean, in your 'dreams'?"

"Yes, exactly that." I gasped as a second realization took hold of me. "That must mean we're near the library. It has to be somewhere here."

"Indeed it is, traveler from beyond. I see your abilities have flourished well, just as my mistress predicted. And to the rest of you, I bid you welcome to the Mansion once again."

A silhouette emerged from the darkness, stepping into the lamp light. We had not heard their footsteps, and though the others immediately reacted, unsheathing whatever spells or weapons they had on their person, they knew as well as I did that had this new arrival not announced themselves, we may not even have had the time to react. However, the moment their identity became evident to us, I promptly understood why they had not bothered to strike first, and ask their questions later.

It was a face I had wondered when I might see again. It was, perhaps fittingly, also the first face I had ever remembered seeing in Gensokyo.

An expression as cold and unmoving as the ocean-blue eyes from which she stared back at us, flanked by a wave of silver locks, tied in braids, falling about her shoulders. A gown of piercing azure and sterile white, adorned with small, teeth-like frills along the hems, and a matching headband tied loosely to her crown. And, just underneath the dress, largely obscured from view, the tip of a long, thin silver knife, the make of which suddenly sent a newfound rush of revelation through my thoughts.

I had seen that blade once before. But where, and in what circumstances? As I wracked my brain for answers, I soon came to recognize that déjà vu could only take me so far. Whatever we wanted to know – whatever we needed to know – could only be found by acquiescing to whatever the one who stood before us desired of us.

At least, for now.

"We have been expecting you for some time," said Sakuya Izayoi, the maid and housekeeper of the Mansion, her voice quiet as the breeze, yet ringing crisp as the winter air in our ears. "Come with me, if you so please. My mistress awaits you in the guest room."

Without another word, Sakuya spun on her heels and began to trot away, her stilettos clicking on the ground with every step despite the muffling of the carpet underneath. We followed with bated breath, staying mostly close enough that the back of her dress did not escape the reach of Marisa's lantern. Once in a while, that would indeed happen, and the rhythmic tapping of her footsteps would stop until we caught up again. I privately wondered why the chandeliers attached at regular intervals to the ceiling were not lit so as to allow us to see what lay ahead, but that ponderance gave way to the more pressing issues that arose as we remained on the path to our ultimate destination.

It had been implied in passing by Patchouli Knowledge during one of my excursions to another "version" of the Scarlet Devil Mansion that I had once met the liege lord of this abode, although even that implication itself seemed to be an uncertain recollection. Of course, what mattered now was that in but just a few moments, I would come face to face with the one who had been holding my puppet strings all this time, the one who had set me on this lengthy and meandering journey, through all the hardship and helplessness I had been forced to confront, yet at the same time, through all the excitement and enlightenment that my travels had bestowed upon me. Ought I feel angry that I should have to endure such misery, such uncertainty, after being ripped away from a previous life I no longer recalled, or ought I be grateful to have had the chance to discover a world which no being of my kind from the outside world had consciously set eyes upon? Or could both such emotions coexist within me, diametrically opposed, yet never truly in conflict?

We stopped in front of a pair of maroon wooden slabs, unblemished save for the two golden handles installed on either side of the slit that bisected them. Sakuya rapped the wood brusquely, twisted the nearest handle, and pushed the door open.

The interior of the room beyond was, fortunately, far more well-lit than the corridors outside, a single chandelier above our heads comprising concentric clusters of candles and spreading its dim glow around the space, the tiny flames flickering as the musty air in the area was fanned to and fro by the opening and closing of the doors as we entered. A wave of crimson velvet curtains lined the back wall, suspended from a gray valance that stretched from one end to the other, though they did not appear to be obscuring any actual windows – no light bled out from beneath their sweeping fringes. The adjacent walls, though unsullied by decoration, were much cleaner and better looked after than their counterparts that flanked the hallways behind us, and the red carpet pooled across the floor, seeping into all four corners, leaving no spot of wood uncovered.

And there, sitting on a couch at the center of the room with a cup of tea in her hands, was the one who I, perhaps, had been destined to meet all this time. She was a dichotomy, a juxtaposition, an amalgamation of contrasting aspects and abstracts that could not be pieced together: a wicked leer plastered across a prepubescent countenance; a trailing pink gown clad upon a petite physique; an unassuming and otherwise altogether humanoid frame, behind which a pair of gnarled, cruelly twisted bat's wings were unfurled, flapping up and down slowly. There was, however, to be no confusion about the intent behind those blood-red irises which seemed to peer directly through us, as though carefully scrutinizing our very souls.

What was I to make of Remilia Scarlet? Even those amongst my companions who knew her well seemed unsure as to what exactly to make of the little vampire.

Yet the greatest surprise in the scene before us stemmed not from the presence of Remilia, nor from the maid standing beside her, but from the two divine figures – at least, divine in name, if nothing else – situated just behind Remilia's seat, one looking haughty and jubilant, the other seeming reticent and resigned. Upon laying eyes on them, Miko drew a sharp intake of breath and raised an accusatory finger at the more confident of the two.

"You!" the hermit exclaimed. "Working together with the Scarlet Devil Mansion? Have you no shame, Kanako Yasaka?!"

The icy smile of the Moriya Shrine's usurper god did not abate. "History is written by the victors," Kanako said loftily, "and I intend to be the one who holds the pen. When presented with such an appealing venture, surely it would be amiss for one such as myself to pass up the opportunity. Would you so unkindly deprive me of the chance to obtain such a bounty of potential riches?"

"You had better explain yourself, Yasaka." Even Reimu, normally so unflappable and unperturbed, could not hide her disgust at the notion of her rivals in the contest of faith and worship within Gensokyo siding with her greatest adversaries, in what appeared to be an alliance of pure convenience between the two parties. "Is all this madness your doing? What part did you play in it?"

"It is only madness if the sane remain to tell the tale, Reimu Hakurei," Kanako replied dismissively. "And I shall see to it that that does not come to pass."

"Restrain yourselves." Remilia allowed her empty porcelain cup and saucer to clatter on the glass table in front of her, and rose to her feet. Though her full height barely surpassed the backrest of her seat, she glared around at us in the manner of a schoolteacher admonishing a crowd of rowdy, bickering children. "Partners we may be, but I will not tolerate impudence from the two of you. Conduct yourselves in a manner befitting your station. Miss Izayoi, thank you for seeing them here." The maid bowed and stepped a few paces away.

"Now." The vampire stretched her arms upwards lazily and stifled a yawn. "I suppose as your host, it falls to me to welcome you to our home. Allow me to do so, then." She spread her arms out in an apparent gesture of hospitality. "You have come to the Scarlet Devil Mansion. I am its mistress, Remilia Scarlet. I suppose you should know that already, even if your memory has been somewhat, well, addled," she said as she cast her glance at me and emitted a short chuckle. "But such matters of little consequence can be left aside for now. The more important task at hand is for us to discuss terms."

"Terms about what?" Marisa queried warily.

"I would have thought that would have been obvious, Miss Kirisame." Remilia raised her eyebrows and tilted her head from side to side, as though bemused by Marisa's ignorance of the topic she had in mind. "Your situation is as clear to you as it is to me. Your proud defenders of the realm, envoy of the Moon, are engaged in a fight to the death with my vastly numerically superior youkai forces. Your gaggle of human peasants have had what little magic remains in them extracted and rerouted towards more efficient purposes, leaving them as nothing more than… objects, toys, to be commanded at my pleasure. You well know that any moves taken against me that I deem to be hostile will mean that, with but a whisper from my lips, their lives will be immediately forfeit. So, what I speak of now can only be…"

A satisfied grin tugged at her lips.

"…Nothing else, of course, than the terms of your surrender."

"But what meaning is there in that?" Reimu asked exasperatedly, shaking her head as she spoke. "We will not act against you, you can be fully assured of that, and we have nothing left to offer you – all that we treasure is already well in the palm of your hands. All that remains is immobility, inaction, inutility. What else would you have us do?"

All that was offered up in response to Reimu's plea was a contemptuous laugh. "That is where you err in your reasoning, shrine maiden." Remilia eased back into the soft cushions of her sofa and let out an insouciant breath. "One can always do with a little extra firepower, and I am cognizant from past battles that none of you are found wanting in that regard. But what I am concerned with today is not you, Miss Hakurei; nor either of you, Toyosatomimi no Miko, Miss Kirisame, Moon princess."

Her casual gaze passed slowly over the others faces', before stopping at mine.

"It is you, storyteller – or 'traveler from beyond', as I hear you are referred to as – that presently piques my interest. It is your surrender that I demand, above all else."

"Storyteller". In other words, "chronicler". So, she had known who I was meant to be all along, even if I did not know it myself. What, though, had she done – or would she do – with that knowledge? More importantly, what else was still being kept hidden from me?

Clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I remarked, "I have been in a state of surrender since Yasaka stood guard over the realm between realms. With the gods of the Moriya Shrine at your beck and call, there is nothing I can offer you now."

"Nonsense. You are the key to everything that I have foreseen would come to pass – and perhaps beyond that, even. You simply do not realize the sheer potential that you wield."

Hearing Remilia Scarlet say that was, though coming from the most undesirable of sources, confirmation of what I had suspected for some time, a belief that had only been bolstered by what little had been revealed to me over the course of my traversals in this land: that there was more to me than had ever met the eye. The nature of my abilities, however unpolished and raw, had seemed without limit, and yet also without definition. What was the magic that allowed me to travel from one point to another in the blink of an eye, stepping across the bridges separating the dimensions as though walking on solid ground? Were the iterations of the Scarlet Devil Mansion I had awoken in been universes of their own that had existed long before I arrived, or had they been, as Miko once suggested, creations of my own volition? In short, the only pertinent question, the one that needed to be answered above all else, was this: what exactly was it that I was able to do?

Observing with wry amusement the internal strife that was playing out across my features, Remilia moved quickly to pour more fuel onto the fire that had started to burn within me. "If it is answers you seek," she added slyly, "all you need to do is submit yourself to me. I shall grant you the freedom from blindness that you so desire. You need but say the word."

"Don't listen to her, traveler," Reimu warned. "She does not know the truth any more than you do. It is a bluff, nothing more."

"Is it, now?" Remilia turned to Miko, who squinted as she returned the vampire's attention. "Tell me, Toyosatomimi no Miko, leader of those who follow the Taoist faith through you. Your legends speak of one who walks the world that contains all worlds, do they not? A figure of supposed legend who spins and breaks the threads of space and time at will?"

"They… do," Miko responded reluctantly.

"And tell me, is it your observation that the traveler, whom I presume you have so desperately sought to shield the truth from, may very well fit the description of such a being?"

"That is mere hypothesis, nothing more!" Miko spat. "It is a theory without basis, Remilia Scarlet; you know that as well as I. Do not deceive him any further!"

"Ha!" Remilia laughed triumphantly. In that moment, it seemed she had Miko exactly where she wanted her. "Why do you sound so desperate, hermit? Are you afraid that the truth may be let slip? That he may turn into the monster that you so feared he could become? This is a failure that lies solely at your feet, Toyosatomimi no Miko; do not seek to shift the blame to me. You are the one who has watched him all this time, and yet you have done little to advance those noble aims you claim to espouse. If you will not make your move, then perhaps I will." She beckoned Kanako forward. "They are all yours."

"Gladly." Kanako raised her arm, and at once, the four maidens were suddenly shrouded in a rippling, spheroid bubble of what seemed at first glance to be nothing but air, yet also appeared to blur the boundary between one sliver of space and another, preventing any movement in and out of the capsule. All four pounded on the walls of their prison, before throwing out whatever sorcery they could afford to wield without catching themselves in the resulting blast, yet their efforts were to absolutely no avail. They could do nothing but watch as I, the only one remaining untouched, was left to be subject to the newfound scrutiny of their captors.

"My turn," Remilia said as she took a contented sip of her tea. "Take a seat, storyteller."

I did as I was told, placing myself gingerly onto the leather armchair opposite Remilia, not daring to make any unnecessary movements or allow anything unbecoming to escape my mouth.

"Before I tell you what you want to hear, allow me first to indulge myself a little. More tea, Miss Izayoi." The vampire gestured towards the empty cup, and the maid duly filled it with a kettle from a drawer in the far corner of the room. "I know what motivates you, and motivates your new 'friends', if I can call them that – now, you should know what motivates me."

She paused, and for the first time, her physiognomy took on a more serious tinge.

"Centuries I have lived, storyteller, and centuries I have seen the sun over Gensokyo set and rise, over and over and over again ad nauseam. Imagine yourself in my place, trapped inside this Barrier, this great jail, for years and years on end. How, pray tell, would you feel?"

"I… do not know."

"Of course you do – you are as human as they come, after all. You know exactly what it is I speak of. Boredom, storyteller! I! Am! Bored! I have been bored for centuries, and I will be bored again, if you do not do exactly as I say!"

Gone was the façade of the prim and proper hostess, whose veneer of politeness and superficial generosity had been washed away, replaced by an insolent, almost manic expression of equal parts frustration and arrogance that was both somehow more in keeping with her appearance, and also somehow less so. Her measured smile had been replaced by a frantic scowl, her bloodshot eyes twitching anxiously as they drilled holes into me, her already emaciated wings wrung even further until they took on the form of two dead tree branches protruding from her back.

"But imagine my surprise," she continued, oblivious to my growing look of horror, "when a little human traveler flies oh-so-innocently into the spiderweb, thinking he can just waltz in here and threaten to overturn this realm and everything in it. I knew I could not just murder him, because his pesky powers were such that killing him meant killing everything around him, including myself. Yet I turned the tables on him by ripping his memories out root and stem, and let him walk around the place like an idiot for the next few months, wondering just what exactly had hit him! How do you like that?!"

I did not reply, because I could not reply. I dreaded to hear what she would say next, yet I was transfixed, stunned into deathly silence by her words, ears still wide open against my will. I could not run; I could not hide. All I could do was listen.

"Now, since we have arrived at this point, I might as well tell you everything. So, when it looks like his abilities are starting to come back, I devise a plan – with Yasaka's and Moriya's kind assistance – to make sure that he will never, ever turn against me. Firstly, I ask my dear friends in Hell for a tiny favor. Just a distraction, something that will keep the bulk of Gensokyo's annoyances off my back for a bit, and at the same time allow them some payback against their old enemies on the Moon. Of course, knowing the kind of person you are, you would not hesitate to follow them to the Lunar Capital, all so you can watch Junko's little show before flying all the way back. What a loyal pet this storyteller is! Look how much he loves his masters! And it's all thanks to me giving him the chance to roam free and find someone to commit his affections to.

"Then, I leverage the safety of the Moon against Eientei, who agree to stay out of the way as long as Junko does not go too crazy up there – fat chance of that – and then I bring the mist of the Mansion to bear against those weaklings who remain. Keine Kamishirasawa is a pretty tough nut to crack, I must admit, but the rest are obviously no match for any of us. And so, here we are." The victorious smile on Remilia's face only grew more crooked as she bore witness to my terror. "But, at the end of the day, you are still the storyteller, and a storyteller can do whatever he likes. So, you know what to do."

"What… to do…?"

"Amuse me, storyteller! Sing and dance for me! Use your powers in the ways you now know how! Bring all the dead peasants from the Human Village back to life! Turn the Lunarian Defence Corps into mush! Break the hold of the Hakurei Barrier upon this land, so I might stretch my wings again in the free air! Then, teleport away, and get the hell out of here! That, human, is what I want you to do."

Remilia leaned forward, lowering her voice to a barely detectable hush.

"Or else," she whispered, "everyone you know and love dies."

I could not believe what Remilia Scarlet had just told me. I simply refused to. Because if what she said were true, that I had been left to my own devices so that I might be fattened up with devotion for Gensokyo and its inhabitants, like a lamb is made plump for the slaughter, then I could not in good conscience attribute any real meaning to all the experiences I had shared, all the emotions I had felt, and all the times of joy, sorrow, hope, fear, wonder, sentiment, and everything else that I had clung on to in those times when, thanks to the mental chains that remained tightly bound around my recollections, I had nothing else I could truly call my own. All that I had done, all that I had seen and heard and touched and smelt and tasted, had led up to this day where my true identity as a plaything for this detestable being would be revealed, and I would be tossed aside once my usefulness to the whims of one of Gensokyo's most powerful entities came to a pitiful end.

Wherein lies the purpose of a thing, if its foundations are built upon untruth?

"Remilia Scarlet, with all due respect…" Kanako gritted her teeth as the magical tether coiled around her wrist began to blink and splutter. "I would ask that you make haste; it is growing more difficult by the second to hem them in." And indeed, the transparent bubble which contained the quartet of my acquaintances was beginning to show cracks, its interior now a hazy, chaotic mess of runes, talismans, and frantic sprays of energy.

"The haste is not mine to make." Remilia, who had put on her mask of formality once again, continued to gaze at me as she settled leisurely into her couch. "Storyteller, do not take my threats idly. I could have Yasaka send them to a place from which they would never return, or in which they would not last longer than a moment. And I will, if you do not express your choice soon."

I stared down at the ground, and at my trembling hands, which were clasped so tightly as to completely whiten my knuckles. Why now, when I had been a passenger for so long, content to observe proceedings as they went by without needing – or being able to – exert any overt influence on the way things went, had the destiny of the realm's uncertain future suddenly been thrust upon my weary shoulders? I had come here seeking clarity, yet all I was left with was more questions, more doubts – and now, to top it all off, the fate of all those who lived here, known only this place as their home, resting upon the words I chose to say next.

It did not help that I had no idea what exactly Remilia spoke of when she referred to my "potential". What was it that she thought I could do, and was it any different to what I actually could do? Was she forcing – or expecting – me to attempt something that I had no actual way of carrying out? Could I really do her bidding with the snap of a finger, like the godlike entity she seemingly presumed me to be? And if not, what was it that I ought to do?

No matter what the answers were, I had to make a choice. I could obey, and then try – however pitifully – to manifest her arbitrary wishes in whatever way I knew how, which, at worst, could bring about the end of everything I knew. Or, I could say no, and send everyone to their demises anyway. Whichever way I looked, I saw only death, not only of those whom I had grown fond of, but of any meaning that remained in my, insofar, rather unfortunate life.

But an option had to be taken, nonetheless. And if that was what was asked of me, then I owed it to my friends to do what little I could.

I opened my mouth to speak.

"I-"

"Enough," snapped a voice. "Traveler, do not speak a word. Keep your silence."

All of us, scions of the Mansion included, turned to face the one who had spoken. She had not said a word since I had arrived, instead choosing to watch dispassionately, though appearing somewhat displeased, at the situation as it had unfolded. But now, Suwako Moriya finally felt it necessary to give voice to the thought she harbored, and we would now find out just what it was that had brought her to the edge.

"Yasaka," Suwako continued as she faced the other god in her presence, "you once told me that our partnership with the Scarlet Devil Mansion would be for the good of the Moriya Shrine, and thus of the realm as a whole. Am I wrong?"

"You are not, but I will not have you question my reasons in either case." Kanako squinted contemptuously at her de facto subordinate. "What is it that you are trying to say?"

"You have heard the purposes for which Remilia Scarlet desires to wield the human traveler's power." Suwako paused and bit her lip. Then, she spoke again, now with a renewed vigor that I had never before witnessed from her. "How can you, in all your wisdom, still agree to assist her when it is clear that all she seeks is mindless, thoughtless destruction? Regardless of your compassion for the people who worship you – for which I know you have none – can you not see that this is a wholly unsatisfactory endeavor? When the people of Gensokyo are dead, magicked out of this mortal plane, who will be left to sing your praises and genuflect before you? When you preside over a kingdom of dust at the end of all this, what good will it do for you? Answer me, Yasaka!"

"Quiet!" Kanako lashed out and smacked Suwako squarely in the cheek with the back of her hand, causing her to stumble backwards slightly. "All that I do is for the good of myself, and through me, the shrine that I own! You will not defy me again, Moriya, or you will surely regret it!"

Suwako massaged her reddening face and shook her head, staring up at Kanako with patently visible hatred in her purple irises. "No," she muttered. "I have already regretted enough, and I will not allow myself to regret any more. All this time, I have been yours to torment, to order around like a slave. No longer!"

Without another word, she slammed her palms together and pointed them at the ground. At once, the entire floor buckled and shook, the carpet tearing and shredding to pieces as the earth beneath it heaved and buckled, dislodging lumps of debris from the ceiling and shaving slabs of plaster off the walls. The candles in the chandelier were ejected violently from their prickets and tumbled haphazardly onto the carpet, immediately setting it alight wherever the flame met the fabric. The force of the vibration knocked us off balance, although I managed to stay somewhat on my feet, grabbing onto the armchair for support, my legs jerking to and fro as I navigated the tremor as though I were a sailor on a galleon in a stormy sea, doing my utmost not to be sent sprawling onto the cold wooden deck.

At the same time, a cluster of tall rocky fingers emerged from the ground, coiling around Kanako and the two denizens of the Mansion, rapidly encasing them in pillars of stone and sediment drawn from the foundations of the Mansion itself. I had an inkling that those pillars would not contain them for long, but at this point, any relief, however brief, was to be accepted gratefully.

So preoccupied was I with observing Suwako's magic that I did not notice a hand reaching out and grabbing my shoulder, pulling me away roughly and beckoning me towards the exit.

"Traveler!" yelled Marisa, who, like the others, had been freed from capture by Suwako's timely intervention. "Let's get out of here!"

I was only too happy to concur, and together with the others, we made our unsteady way across the groaning floorboards. As we reached the doors, which were swinging back and forth with the exertion of the walls to which they were attached, I could just about make out one final voice ringing out from behind me.

"You know where to go, traveler!" called Suwako Moriya as the earth on which she and her erstwhile masters stood began to sink into the ground. "Find the tome! Restore yourself!"

Then, the ceiling fractured, shattering into dozens of large slabs of stone and concrete that collapsed atop her and the others, and she was gone. Yet I had little time to worry for her safety, for although the source of the shaking had ostensibly been stopped, the shaking itself did not cease, having spread throughout the entire Mansion, sending webs of cracks and splinters rippling across the wallpaper, threatening to bring the entirety of the grand old structure to its knees.

There was only one place left for us to go: the library. We had to get there, and fast. Unfortunately, the last vestiges of illumination from inside the room had been snuffed out, leaving us in the rumbling, pitch-black corridors with no way of even identifying where we could walk without running into a wall. Reimu set a couple of her orbs alight again, but they, as with most other light sources in this place, did not allow us to look very far, and amid the impending chaos, we were swiftly running out of options.

"Where's the library?" I asked, having to raise my voice considerably above all the din.

"I thought you would know, traveler!" Miko shouted back. "How are we supposed to find it in all this?!"

"Wait!" For the first time since we had entered the Mansion, the princess of the Moon spoke. "Traveler, are you sure we are close to the library?"

"Absolutely sure."

"Then I can get us there. Draw close to me."

We did as told, huddling together around the diminutive figure and accidentally bumping into each other painfully as we collided, thanks in no small part to the continuing instability of the ground on which we stood. Toyohime, who was busy murmuring something under her breath, ignored us, and it soon dawned on me that she was chanting a spell.

"Hang on tight!" she warned as a blue magic circle comprising a ring of stars and runes blossomed from under our feet. Instinctively, I reached out and clung onto the first things my fingers touched, a mass of cotton from somebody's clothes. I heard a discontented grunt, though whoever it was that I was holding fortunately didn't seem to mind.

The circle suddenly rose from the ground, passing through our bodies as the incantation came to life in the form of a wash of azure and turquoise that seemed to physically permeate through our bodies, sending a numbing, lightening sensation coursing through our limbs, as though my entire body might soon become weightless and float away. It was an altogether familiar feeling, and I quickly realized, to my astonishment, where I had experienced it before.

"You can teleport as well, Watatsuki no Toyohime?" I asked.

"Indeed, but only once every so often. It takes quite a toll on my magic, you see, and such luxuries are ill affordable on the Moon, as you should well know by now." Toyohime closed her eyes and stretched her hand out, groping in the air for something invisible to all except her. "I think I see the place," she muttered. "Is it a cylindrical chamber that opens up into the sky, as though it were the bottom of a well?"

I nodded. "That is so."

"We shall go, then, and hope you are correct." The light intensified until it filled my vision, blinding me and leaving dancing spots of color in my eyes. Then, the world around us vanished, and we were duly whisked away.

“Where… are we?”

As the sheer wall of stark white and sky blue slowly receded and some semblance of sight returned to my pupils, an odd smell met my olfactory senses, a pungent odor that could only be best described as a delicate blend of lemon, saffron, and ammonia. Simultaneously, I began to hear the sound of dripping water, pattering rhythmically onto some distant surface. The noise ricocheted across an unseen expanse, echoing forlornly, disappearing into a horizon far, far away from where I had materialized. Wherever we were, it definitely wasn’t the library, at least from what I could remember about it.

A hissing spark of light erupted from beside me. I jumped at the sudden illumination, eliciting a tittering laugh from the one who had lit the flame.

“Relax, traveler.” Marisa brought the candlelight on her fingertips close to her face, revealing an amused grin. “It’s me. Don’t freak out, we’re alone here.”

It was then that I noticed that she was the only person aside from me in the vicinity. “Better question, where’s everyone else?”

The blond witch shrugged as she stuck her blazing finger into her lantern. “You were hanging onto my clothes – which is pretty rude, but I’ll let it slide – so I guess we ended up sticking together. My theory for now is that the princess’s conjuration didn’t work as it should’ve. She saw the bottom of a well or something, and… I mean, you just have to look up to see where we are.”

Far up above our heads, I could just barely make out a small, dark red circle, a scarlet pinprick in a sea of black. It seemed the library was not the only well-like structure in the Mansion – surprisingly enough, an actual well itself turned out also to match the description. I hoped that the others had made it to our intended destination, though that was of little comfort given that we remained stranded in an entirely different area altogether.

“We can fly upwards, though, right?” I suggested.

Marisa patted her broomstick, causing the lantern hanging from its tip to swing slowly to and fro, the halation of its glow on the grimy walls either side of us growing and shrinking in tandem with its oscillation. “We could, technically, but good luck getting back into the Mansion and then into the library from the front door. By the sound of it, the Lunarian Defence Corps aren’t exactly having a swell time of things – that is, if you believe what little Miss Scarlet was saying.” She sighed. “And trusting her is just about the last thing we should be doing. But, better safe than sorry, I’d say.”

“Then we have no choice but to explore.” I looked around. We were in a tunnel that stretched as far as the eye could see, although unlike the similarly boundless corridors of the Mansion proper, the ceiling hung so low that I could scrape it with my fingers if I reached up on my tiptoes. Moss and dew matted the weathered rock surrounding us, and puddles of muddy water glinted against the lamplight. If this really was intended to be a well, its utility had long since run dry; now, it was a relic, a forgotten segment of the complex, labyrinthine manor which its mighty inhabitants did not see fit to maintain. Where there had once been water, there was now only the stench of decay, and the taint of the corruption that permeated the premises as a whole.

“You said it. No point standing around.” Marisa began to trudge forward into the void, lifting her skirt up slightly to prevent it from touching the filth strewn across the ground. “We should figure out how to get back up, then everything else will follow.”

“As you say.” I followed close behind, and for a while all that could be heard was the sound of our shoes squelching and splashing as we pressed on. At some point, Marisa gave up on trying to keep clean the hem of her dress, which had collected its fair share of brown specks thanks to our feet kicking up the wet dirt, and was content to let it skim along the surface of the mire.

“Must be quite overwhelming, huh?” she finally said, casting half a glance back at me. “Having all this stuff shoved down your throat, being forced to choose between one bad end and another. I couldn’t imagine having to make a choice like that.” She blew a wistful breath through her mouth. “Maybe this is what it feels like to be a god.”

“I think I’ve had my fill of gods,” I replied. “Last thing I want is to turn out to be one.”

Marisa chuckled. “You said it. Unlike us mortals, gods are born representing something, whether that’s an element, an aspect of the world, or even just an idea. But that means that anything that goes against whatever it is they’re representing is automatically seen as an enemy, and heaven help you if you get in the way of a god. At the same time, though, being worshipped and begged so often is a pretty hefty boost to the ego, and we all know what that can lead to. Ultimately, godhood really is just one big mess from start to finish.”

“Yes, I’ve seen enough proof of that in my time here,” I noted.

“You sure have.” She shook her head. “It’d be nice if everything could just go back to normal after all this is over. I just wanna go home and make some potions – it’s been a while since I did that. You know, normality might be boring at times, but it sure beats all this unnecessary excitement.”

“Definitely.”

“I just hope this whole upheaval hasn’t screwed up my shop in the Forest. You have any idea how long I spent nicking – I mean, gathering the stuff I stocked there?” Marisa bit her thumbnail and frowned. “Alice better not have taken that kettle – I won that thing fair and square.”

“That would be a change, judging by how many things Reimu says you’ve stolen from her.”

“And who do you believe more between the two of us, traveler? Her or me?”

“Well, she is a shrine maiden, and she sticks extremely devoutly to her oaths. Have you ever known her to lie?”

“…You have a point, I suppose. Hold on.” Marisa abruptly halted, and I almost bumped headlong into her back. “Something’s there.”

I peered over her shoulder and squinted into the distance. A small orange orb was floating about in the murk, drawing tiny circles in the air, creeping slowly but steadily closer. It seemed oddly familiar, but at the same time, I did not feel it right to take any chances given our depleted numbers, regardless of my trust in Marisa’s abilities.

“What is it?” I whispered. “Can you beat it?”

“We haven’t exactly tested that, but I’m sure we’ll find a time. Toyosatomimi no Miko! Get over here!”

The orb drew nearer still, and with it approached the rest of its wielder, who sheathed her sword and sighed heavily upon coming within range of Marisa’s lantern, her annoyed features cast into sharp, ochre-tinged focus. “Never trust a Lunarian,” the hermit murmured as she squeezed the bridge of her nose, wincing as she took in the smell. Evidently, her hearing wasn’t the only one of her five senses that was particularly reactive to stimuli. “Good to see the two of you are well. I worry about the shrine maiden’s safety, but she can handle herself just fine. Meanwhile, Watatsuki no Toyohime can go eat dust for all I care.”

“Not a very Taoist thing to say, that.”

“Can it, traveler – I do not want to hear that from you of all people. Once we get out of this sewer, I’ll show that princess some real karmic Taoism. Then maybe she will think twice in the future about dropping me down here like a piece of excrement.”

“Ignore her,” Marisa said, though she couldn’t resist a small giggle. “Come on, traveler.” We carried on walking, Toyosatomimi no Miko sulking as she plodded behind us, muttering curses and complaints under her breath. I’d never seen her this displeased at anything, although by now I’d met enough people, and other similar beings, to know that everyone – even, or especially, the most powerful of entities – could find something that irked them. Miko, it seemed, was little different.

We reached a fork in the road, and a brief discussion between the three of us – which ultimately descended into a game of rock-paper-scissors – took us to the left. Our selection was vindicated, and we soon stood at the foot of a derelict, well-worn stairwell leading back upwards.

“Take care. We don’t know what’s up there.” Marisa went first, followed by Miko, and then myself. As we ascended, the distinct wash of fluttering torchlight ebbing downwards from high above grew brighter and brighter until, at the top of the steps, we found its source: a solitary iron flambeau flickering weakly in what little wind made its way down to our current level, marking the place whence we had climbed our way back to the Mansion at large. Farther ahead was a corridor not unlike that which we had escaped just moments ago, although it seemed untouched by the prior tremor, which had thankfully now come to a complete standstill.

Entering the corridor, we were confronted by yet another split, followed by another, and then another. We alternated between going left and going right, in the hopes that our wholly unscientific means of navigating the halls of this Mansion might somehow yield some fruit. That was, as it turned out, a fool’s endeavor, and after the sixth consecutive bisection, Marisa began to grow frustrated.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?” she groaned. “It’s almost like they designed it to be confusing.”

“Maybe they did.” Toyosatomimi no Miko stopped – as did we – and whipped out her trusty paper fan, tapping it on her chin as she pondered Marisa’s observation. “Maybe this floor was meant to be a maze to begin with.”

“But what on Gensokyo would be the point of that?”

“There are a couple of possibilities, I suppose, if you really think about it – which I know is an arduous task for one such as yourself,” she added before dodging an irritated swat from Marisa’s broom. “One is that this maze, if we can call it that, was built to keep people from getting in. The other is…”

“…to prevent something from getting out,” I finished.

The sudden sound of shuffling footsteps drew our focuses. They were faint, but in the eerie, blanketing silence of our surroundings, they may as well have been deafening.

"I think we’re about to find out what that might be,” Marisa muttered as she lifted her lantern forwards into the gloom. Yet as it turned out, she would have little need to do that in the first place.

Something abruptly turned the corner nearest to our location. From its back were dangled an impressive array of multicolored, luminous crystals, lined from one side of the hallway to the other, shaking and swaying as their bearer edged forwards, muffled step by muffled step. It was only when I paid closer attention to the order of the colors emanating from each gem that I understood why I now harbored such a strong sense of déjà vu – the permutation of the bright hues was reminiscent of the painting I had seen outside the library both in this timeline and another, a portrayal of an enigmatic figure that Patchouli had once sought to dismiss as little more than a curiosity. But its subject, as we had just discovered, was very real, and as equal parts mysterious and dangerous as her status as the Mansion’s open secret would make her seem.

A pair of red eyes opened, blinking rapidly as if awoken from a long slumber, before turning to stare hungrily towards the three of us.

“I know who that is,” I breathed. “The sister…”

“…of the mistress of this forsaken place.” Miko lifted a hand to her sword, fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt, squinting warily as she spoke. “Flandre Scarlet, in the undying flesh.”

The silhouette of Remilia Scarlet’s accursed sibling drew ever closer, step by dreadful step, the crystals hanging from her back shaking and twirling slowly about the branch-like protrusions from which they dangled, her bloody stare never once wavering as she bore down upon us. I gulped audibly, my heart pounding loudly in my ears, and though the other two did not appear anywhere near as nervous as I, I could tell by their uneasy squints and the white-knuckle grip on their respective weapons – if one could call Marisa’s broom a weapon – that they knew the fight ahead would not be an easy one, an unusual notion given the more than considerable level of power that each of them wielded.

Yet as Flandre Scarlet set foot into the radiance of Marisa’s lantern, the shadows that had cast her form into such horrifying focus vanished, the blanket of dark shrouding her dispelled by the safe, warm glow of the fire. What emerged from the illusion was a diminutive, almost unassuming figure, dressed in a simple white and red gown reminiscent of that which a certain shrine maiden wore every day, a puffy white hat sat atop a mess of flaxen tresses, shielding a pair of small, inquisitive eyes which, though still doused in vermillion, appeared like those of a small animal than of one of the most enigmatic yet fearsome beings in the realm.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her voice was the striking image – or sound, rather – of Remilia’s own, but it did not carry that same undercurrent of iron, of blackness. “You’re a long way from the surface. You didn’t come down the well, did you?”

“…In a fashion.” Miko slowly lowered her blade. “And what about yourself? Why linger in this forgotten corner of the Mansion, especially with all the upheaval aboveground?”

“Me? I’ve always been here.” Flandre shrugged. “That person keeps telling me it’s not safe out, even though it bores the hell out of me to stay here. I wanna go out and do something. I’m so bored.” She blew out an irritated breath, and the gems on her back flickered briefly. “I could hear something going on upstairs, though, so maybe that person will let me out for a bit. She only wants me around when she needs me. Not that I really care – I just want someone to play with. You guys wanna do something with me?”

Putting aside the perhaps easily solved mystery of who “that person” might happen to be, it surprised me to no end that a being of such ill repute and renown would turn out to be so… child-like. Immature, even. Another subversion of expectations to add to a long, long list of them since I had arrived.

An even greater surprise, however, was to await me, in the form of what Marisa would say next.

“Sure,” replied the witch. “Wanna come with us? I’ll tell your sister we’re gonna go play.”

Miko tilted her head and frowned, her already narrow squint narrowing further still as she peered at Marisa, who seemed totally at ease with what she had just proposed. Maybe it was the right call in the circumstances, for Flandre’s eyes instantly lit up, and she nodded her head vigorously.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Let’s go. What should we do?”

“Anything you want. We gotta get out of here first, though.” Marisa looked around. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the exit is, do you?”

Flandre shrugged again. “Not really. It’s a big place. Sometimes I end up finding it by accident, but then the maid usually just drags me back down here when she brings me my food.” She bit her lip and frowned. “I don’t like her.”

“That is a sentiment we all share,” Miko noted with a chuckle. “Well, accident or not, we will need to leave this place eventually, and the sooner the better. Push comes to shove, I could take us to Senkai, although I trust Kanako Yasaka will be watching the bridge between worlds very closely. I believe that would not be an appropriate risk to take.”

“Why don’t we go exploring, then?” Flandre suggested. “Haven’t done that in a while. There’s only so many spirits and fairies you can blow up without getting bored, anyway, so I’ve had enough of that.” Without another word, she turned and sauntered back down the corridor from which she had emerged. “Come on!” she called as she vanished into the darkness.

We looked at each other and shrugged.

“No time like the present,” Miko noted dryly. “Let’s make haste.”

Marisa readily concurred, as did I, and so we followed the bobbing white figure into the shadow of the maze. That abrupt and entirely unexpected moment of catharsis upon discovering how docile – at first blush, anyway – the feared Flandre Scarlet seemed to be had just about made me forget the severity of the situation we were stranded in. Yet, selfish as it was to say, it was far safer and far less stressful to be down here than up there, whatever was going on. Far better to count whatever few blessings we could muster, even in the midst of such tribulation and uncertainty.

“This way!” Flandre would exclaim once in a while, darting down one hallway or another without so much as a flicker of hesitation. All we could do was trust in her judgment, however fickle it might appear – she was the one who’d lived here for however long she’d lived here for, and judging by the tendency of those who resided in Gensokyo to have lifespans far beyond what might be humanly imaginable, one suspected that was a very long time indeed.

Which then begged the question of how she had spent all this time, locked away in a place where every decrepit stone wall was a mirror of the others, and still managed to summon the innocent curiosity and youthful drive she now displayed. If I had been in her shoes, heaven knew I’d have been driven mad long ago – though I could hardly compare the perspective of one who treated a century as a moment and one who treated a century as a lifetime. Besides, madness was very much par for the course in this little slice of cross-dimensional wonderland.

Either way, the more I pondered, the more the differences between her and her more illustrious sister became apparent. When it came down to it, though, from what I knew about each sibling so far, I knew which of them I would vastly prefer the company of.

Even so, one could only take so much running about seemingly mindlessly in the murky, musty confines of an underground labyrinth, no matter how pleasant one’s company might be. Indeed, after about half an hour of chasing the little vampire’s red-and-white tail around sharp corners and through yet more hallways, her instructions growing less and less certain by the moment, it soon became apparent that she was just as lost as we were. The sound of her pattering ground to a gradual halt, and we soon found her standing silently in the dark, staring back at us, a look of desolate haplessness wilting her features.

“I’m lost,” she whined.

“I figured as much,” Marisa replied with a sigh. “What now? I guess we could keep on going until we hit something interesting, which will hopefully happen before we inevitably pass on into the afterlife. I’m not looking forward to what Eiki Shiki would have to say about me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Miko said, though she, too, did not appear overly enthused by the prospect of spending the rest of her life, however long that might turn out to be, down in the sewers of the Mansion. “It appears to me as though we have been running in one grand circle for the past ten minutes. Perhaps there is some more coherent strategy we could follow rather than just taking the left turn every time we encounter a fork.”

Flandre’s eyes widened in surprise, as though not expecting Miko to figure out the “tactic” she’d been employing. I, for my part, had long since figured out what she was doing by this point, though I had not felt it right to disturb Flandre’s fun when she could very well turn her enthusiasm towards something a touch too dangerous for my liking.

In any case, hearing Miko speak about loops, I was struck by a sudden burst of déjà vu, a sense that I had seen this scene play out before in some long, distant past. It had not been two weeks since we’d embarked on our journey to Eientei, where all this turmoil traced its roots, but then again, this had not exactly been the easiest fortnight of my time in Gensokyo so far. When one waited for things to get better, one could wait a very long time indeed.

“Could it be that there’s some kind of spell cast upon these corridors to make it seem like we are going in circles?” I suggested. “Perhaps akin to the magic we encountered in Eientei.”

Miko thumped her palms together in realization. “You could very well be right. In fact, I have noticed that the dimensions and layouts of the corridors have tended to repeat themselves, though it is admittedly difficult to pinpoint where the spell commences or concludes. We will have to keep a keen eye or two out as we venture forward.”

We started on our way again, this time with, if not a renewed sense of purpose, at least some notion that continuing on might be the most optimal course of action in the circumstances. And sure enough, before too long, Miko’s keen nose for irregularity sniffed out an aberration in the latest of the endless web of monochrome corridors we were passing through. She bade us stop, knelt down beside an unassuming tile on the floor, and pressed her fingers down upon it. With an uttered word of enchantment, the wall beside her came to life, disassembling and retreating into the stone around it, revealing a hitherto undiscovered passage that led into a different sort of blackness, one that was formed by soil and dirt instead of rock and marble.

“This seems promising,” I noted.

“Never one to enunciate the obvious, are you,” Miko replied sarcastically. “But yes – as compared to aimlessly wandering about this maze, this does show some promise.”

We followed her into the new pathway, the click of our footsteps on the stone softening into padded thuds on the loose soil as we left the corridors behind, the odor of the damp dew on the rock walls sharpening into the dirt’s earthen sourness. Yet even that change in scenery would itself prove to be transient – soon, the glow of Marisa’s lantern abruptly caught the lowest edge of an upwards flight of stairs. With a little less hesitation than our as yet precarious situation may have warranted, we marched swiftly up the stairs – at this point, our minds perhaps burdened by the numbing repetition of the underground maze, we were simply glad to partake in whatever opportunity for progress might present itself.

Even if, whether my traveling companions and I knew it or not, that modicum of light at the end of the literal and metaphorical tunnel would turn out to be the final step in a journey whose destination had long since been determined.