Necrophantasia

It was a barren land.

Before her eyes, the horizon stretched into infinity, a straight line broken at points by the occasional jagged rock. Her parasol protected her from the reddish light of the setting sun, but the heat still caressed her skin, undiminished even by the approaching twilight.

She walked still through the endless desert, as she had walked for hours and days and centuries before and would walk again for hours and days and centuries to come. To weaker minds, the vista remained unchanging, but to her… what a sight it was! Each grain of sand told a story of salt and blood, each broken stone a testament to a long-forgotten ruin of times bygone.

Yes, Yukari thought, putting a finger to her lips as they curved into a small smile. Yes, this was a wonderful dream.

But it did get boring, after a while.

With a sweep of Yukari's pale hand, the world reformed, red and green and white and blue, time and reality and wonder shaped by her whim, the sun set back upon itself until it shone high, high in the blue sky, verdant trees growing around her, grass sprouting under her feet, and blooms of amaranth and white lotus which dazzled the eye, and the air was fresh, and the breeze, cool.

Yukari stepped back for a moment to admire her handiwork, basking in its beauty and the perfection of its splendor. This, she thought as she looked out from the green hill she now stood on, was being truly unrestrained. For even though she was the closest thing to an omnipotent being in Gensokyo since the dragons had faded away, there were still people who could oppose Yukari in her beautiful miniature garden. The more unique humans and youkai, when banded together, could still pose to her a challenge, however small.

But not here. No, in this world of illusion and wonder, her will was ultimate, infinite and free. At her every whim, the heaven and earth trembled and shook and changed form, fearing her as she had once been feared in Gensokyo, so long ago.

For she had been feared, Yukari reminisced as she picked up a lotus flower and inhaled its scent, nearly losing herself in the perfect aroma that was, as should be, a mirror of her own perfection. She had been feared, and listened to, and she had been cruel and vengeful. She remembered how, so long ago, before the border of magic had been sealed, she had led a horde of youkai to their deaths in an attempt to conquer the Moon, how she had beguiled them with sweet words and a honeyed tongue and watched in glee when they were destroyed and any opposition to her was eliminated in one fell swoop.

For things weren't as they were now, with beautiful Reimu and Marisa and Alice, wandering their wondrous and mysterious world and putting a stop to anything that would break the fairyland's peace. No, a thousand years back, when Yuyuko still lived and the perfect cherry blossom charmed souls with its wonder, Yukari had ruled. Her name had been known, her words heeded, her wrath feared.

Yukari twirled the parasol in her hand, and the wind blew faster, a storm of flower petals surrounding her in a whirlwind of beauty as she walked to the edge of the green hill and gazed at her dream below.

Yes, she had ruled. But… that had gotten boring, too. Sleeping was better. Only in the twisting reality of the illusion could she stay constantly entertained. But she supposed she still missed some things, which was why she would sometimes wake up, why she still watched and loved Gensokyo when she could just as easily lose herself in her dreams. Because just as the wonders in the dreamland were wonderful because they obeyed her, so were the wonders in Gensokyo beautiful because they heeded no master, not even her. Their mysteries shifted and changed beyond the grasp of human, demon, or fate. Her dreams entertained Yukari, but Gensokyo challenged her. And when it didn't… she slept.

But now once more did her miniature garden call out to her, to begin anew its part of the cycle. This was beyond the occasional whim that led her to get up and give her shikigami arbitrary orders. No, this was special. She could feel it in the warmth of her breast, in the hitching of her breath. Was Gensokyo threatened? Or rather was she threatened?

Yukari laughed, a beautiful, tinkling sound, and then slammed the tip of her parasol against the ground. The storm of flowers stopped, the grass withered, the trees fell and died as water rushed in, and the dreamscape revealed its true form.

And if she was threatened? What would she do? Wave the danger aside? Or simply crush it without relent, using her opponent's corpse as the stepping stone for a ladder that led to her ruling again until sleep once more overtook her fully, centuries beyond?

Yukari lifted her parasol above her head once more as she observed what the dream had become. She stood, as if through miracle, on an endless sea of blue-black water punctuated by grim monoliths that rose from its depths like drowned men gasping for air, and by endless clouds above that nearly hid the yellow sun as the salty breeze bore aloft the ends of her hair.

Yes, maybe she would do the last part. Being feared –truly feared- was a feeling she, and the world along with her, had forgotten. Perhaps she ought to remind them. Perhaps…

Perhaps. But not now. She could feel herself awakening, but it was not yet time for reality to take hold, unbidden, of her mind.

No. For now, she still had some time.

Time to dream and to laugh in this necrotic fantasia, plotting for a future that would always come.