"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."
"Yeah, 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."
