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 – 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 two out of three 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."
