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.
