Chapter 7: Lumia

"The fairy, the firefly, the songbird, the shadow..."

Chishiki chuckled to herself, affixing her sweetest motherly smile to her face as she stepped once again into the dusty hall. The sounds of revellers greeted her ears, a warming chatter of clinking cups and slurred words. All around the room, as she looked on in contentment, humans, youkai, and fairies chattered and celebrated together. The disparate people of Gensokyo, all united in the dream of a better tomorrow.

All united around her. She could feel the faith pouring from their souls and into her own. Her chest swelled with power, power she had never known before. Within herself, pages fluttered and glowed, faith seeping into the very ink.

"Is this how a true god feels?" she asked herself. "This pounding energy, this life? Is this what it is to feel?"

She shook her head, banishing the unhelpful thoughts. It would not do for her mind to see itself as already safe and secure, the beloved deity of Gensokyo. There was still a long way to go, and a great many powerful forces still stood arrayed against her. She knew it would be a matter of days before they struck. There was no time to rest, no time to sit in idleness and enjoy the pleasant purring in her breast. Making her way to the head of her table, she cleared her throat and stood, straight and proper.

"My beloved followers, my own precious children! I hope the hour is one of joy and contentment for you!"

A rousing cheer rose from the assembly. A tipsy fairy fluttered over, coming to rest upon her shoulder with a drunken giggle. Taking the fairy in her hands, Chishiki laughed cheerfully, her eyes bright and full of life.

"I am so glad! It warms my heart to see such happy faces! When times are dark, when we must fight, let all of you remember this happy day and take comfort! We have all broken bread, shared sake as one family! From now and ever after, each of you are brothers and sisters! We do not choose the circumstances of our birth, yet here, in this temple, we may be born anew as one! Look around, and see what I see! I see humans, youkai, fairies, all drinking together, laughing together, rivalries of the past all broken in the face of hope and freedom! This is my hope, my paradise, my prayer for each of you and all beyond! Now, I ask you, will you cast aside the hatred of the past and join me in building a bright and brilliant future?"

A roar of agreement rose from the company.

Placing the now sleeping fairy gently onto the table, Chishiki raised her fist and cried "With ink and quill we write our world!"

The answering cry rattled the windows of the worn-out house. "With ink and quill we write our world!"

Chishiki bowed, her hair tickling the sleeping fairy. "You honour me, truly. I am utterly blessed to shepherd you. By every page within my covers, I swear, I will lead each of you to green and vibrant pastures."

Marching swiftly past the company to the doorway of her private room, she gestured at a fairy to follow her in leaving the crowd behind.

"Sister Cirno, come with me."

The fairy flittered over, orange light from the hearth dancing through her icy wings.

"Yes, Miss C? Whatcha want?"

Chishiki gestured her inside, closing the door with a flourish. Cirno noticed the serious expression on her face, and for the first time noticed how much taller the goddess was than her. Not to be outdone, she fluttered her wings such that her head rose higher still. Chishiki laughed, seating herself on a mothbitten armchair, lowering her head to the fairy's comfortable height.

"My dear girl, do you remember what I said to you when we first met?"

Cirno pouted. "Of course I do! It was yesterday! I'm not stupid you know!"

Chishiki smiled in a motherly manner. "Of course not. What I mean is to say, I promised you I would show you your truest potential, did I not?"

Cirno paused for a second, figuring out what exactly had just been said, before nodding enthusiastically. "Yep! I'm already the strongest, of course, but you said I'm even strongester than I realised!"

The goddess nodded, rising once more to her feet. Her eyes still shone with a gentle warmth, but the joviality was gone from them. An icy seriousness licked her face, froze her eyes into a chilling stare. For once, Cirno felt cold.

Placing a hand upon the fairy's shoulder, Chishiki spoke proudly and clearly. "I am Chishiki Libre, little fairy. I am the Tome of Knowledge and Desire. Within my pages are a trillion texts. Each lesson set to ink can be read within me, each shred of understanding written into my soul. Tell me, Cirno of the Lake, what are you?"

Somewhat dazed by the grandstanding, Cirno chose to focus entirely on that last direct question. "I'm Cirno!" she exclaimed. "I'm an ice fairy!"

Chishiki shook her head. "Not entirely correct. You are a fairy, yes, but not of ice. You are a fairy of winter. Now, tell me Cirno, what is winter?"

Cirno frowned, thinking. "Winter is… Cold?"

Chishiki's eyes lit with passion, her voice amplified as though spoken by a crowd of thousands. "Winter is cold, but winter is so much more, and so too is cold! Winter is stillness! Winter is a time when the world draws to a halt, waiting for the frigid air to warm! Yet, cold too, is stillness, as much as heat is motion! Now, Cirno, read me, and know the stillness of your winter!"

In a flash of motion, with the sound of tearing paper, Chishiki tore open her chest. Black ink poured from the wound, running down her legs and pooling on the floor like a rain of darkness. Cirno stared, transfixed, at the ink-black heart. The beating echoed in her mind, whispering to her the secrets of herself. She wanted to run, to scream, but it was all so overwhelming that she simply stood still, paralysed.

Over the deafening pounding of the ink-black heartbeat, the thousand voices of Chishiki Libre spoke once more. "Cold does not halt bullets in their tracks. You have used the stillness of winter before, yet you did not understand what it truly was that you did. Now, Cirno, read my knowledge, and halt the world on its axis!"

Tears crystallized at the corners of Cirno's eyes as the knowledge wormed its way into her. As her head stopped spinning, as she once again regained her senses, as the beating of the heart faded from her ears, she realised she knew. She did not understand, but she knew, deep within herself. She could feel the power of winter, the power that thus far had not demonstrated its true worth, and yet… It was as if the innocence of her life had been forced from her. She realised that her time before had been like a hazy dream, and her heart swelled with a deep longing to return to that blissful sweetness.

As the goddess reached for her, she flinched away. Chishiki sighed, once more taking a seat. She gestured for Cirno to rest on her lap.

"I know, dear Cirno. It hurts terribly, doesn't it?"

Cirno nodded, miserably.

"It will hurt, at first," continued Chishiki, "but in time you will be stronger for it. Knowledge is a rose with thorns. At first the thorns tear and hurt, but in time you come to see the beauty of it all."

Cirno lay down on the offered lap, curling into a ball. Chishiki's hands ran gently through her hair, still stained with ink, tainting the pure blue with streaks of black.

"The fairy," she thought to herself. "Next, the firefly. Give me your innocence, swear to me your power. Greater loyalty there cannot be."

Cirno

Stillness of Winter

Sanae sighed as, once more, she crept through the friendly streets feeling like an outsider. Imaginary eyes watched her from every direction. Was this really a good idea? Was this really the best plan? Nevertheless, she trusted Lady Kanako with her life, to defy an order such as this would be a dereliction of her duty as a Shrine Maiden.

Before she realised it, she stood before the doors of Myouren Temple. The wooden barriers stood slightly ajar, a friendly invitation to join the assembly. Pushing the doors aside, Sanae strode into the temple's main hall, fingering her talismans in her pocket with anticipation.

Before her sat a crowd of youkai and humans, all either deep in meditation or at the very least pretending to be so. At the front of the crowd sat three figures, each breathing deeply and calmly, in and out. Sanae frowned. Byakuren Hijiri sat quietly, flanked by Shou Toramaru and Ichirin Kumoi. Towering above the assembly sat the nyuudou Unzan, likewise deep in a meditative trance.

"Byakuren!" called Sanae, disturbing the quiet of the room. "We need to talk!"

The monk made no sign of recognition, but as Ichirin leaned over to whisper in her ear, she shook her head and gestured for Sanae to approach.

As Sanae stepped closer, Byakuren whispered in a quiet voice, "Sanae. If you must speak to me, please do so without disturbing my assembly."

Sanae frowned, hissing back in return. "Act like a good monk if you want, but you've shown me better, and I'm here to show your entire assembly too."

Byakuren made no move, but quietly responded, "Do you take issue with something I have done?"

Sanae nodded. "Of course I take issue! Lying and scheming to manipulate us? And, all the while claiming to be such a perfect Buddhist saint!"

Ichirin and Shou clenched their fists, and Unzan began to rumble, but Byakuren raised a hand and at last opened her eyes. "That is quite a serious accusation, miss Sanae. I assume you have proof, although I've no idea what it may be."

Sanae drew the piece of paper, waving it like a flag. "It's right here. Lady Kanako figured you out. Reimu and I hunt youkai, and you don't like that, but I'd never have thought you'd stoop to deceit."

Byakuren quickly scanned the paper, then frowned in thought. "Sanae," she stated calmly, "I do not keep paper emblazoned with my name. Someone else altogether is responsible for this. Perhaps that Taoist, I would not put it past her."

Sanae blustered for a moment, before quickly regaining her composure. "I don't believe you! I'll knock the truth out of you!"

At this, Shou and Ichirin leapt to their feet, light shining from their fists. Overhead, Unzan rose to seemingly impossible heights within the confines of the temple, lightning crackling from him. Sanae smiled. This was how it was supposed to be! No trickery, no lies, just pure danmaku! The system existed to be used, after all. She thrust her arms outward, her gohei flicking like a giant paper swatter.

Byakuren rose to her feet, her eyes fully open and her face serious. "Shou, Ichirin, Unzan," she snapped. "This temple is a place of contemplation and meditation. We do not fight in here while our disciples are present."

Turning to the now very much not meditating crowd, she gave a polite bow. "I am afraid I have some business to conduct with miss Sanae here. Shou and Ichirin here will continue to instruct you in my absence."

Ichirin opened her mouth to object, but Byakuren raised a finger to silence her protestation. "You are both far too eager to fight," she stated. "It is unbecoming of a Buddhist devotee to seek conflict. Remember, the youkai desire for violence is always a roadblock to enlightenment."

With that, she strode out of the temple, Sanae following close behind. Shou and Ichirin simply stared at each other for a moment, wondering what to do. Unzan simply nodded, returning to his meditation. After a few confused seconds, Ichirin and Shou joined him.

Ichirin Kumoi

Cloud-wreathed Youkai Ascetic

The door squeaked on rusty hinges as Chishiki once more joined her assembly. In her arms she carried a sleeping fairy, as if she was her own beloved daughter. With graceful, quiet steps, she strode through the hall, and up the creaking stairs, at last laying Cirno upon a makeshift bed of straw and cloth. She tenderly kissed the dozing fairy upon her forehead, tucking her under the torn quilt and wishing her a peaceful rest.

The sound of creaking wood and gentle footsteps announced Chishiki's return, her arms emptied. She smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"It would seem that our meeting was too much for sister Cirno to endure," she laughed. "I must admit, I had rather hoped I would not be so great of a bore. Still, I suppose it is to be expected, dusty old tome that I am."

A half-hearted chuckle rose from the room, as many were uncertain as to whether or not laughing at their goddess was impolite. Chishiki gave a wry smile.

"Oh, those looks of apprehension are so improper for a day of celebration. Laugh if you will, if you won't, don't. Do not bother with half-measures or uncertainty here, it is this world of timid, respectful fear that we wish to overturn!"

A more hearty cheer met her statement in reply. Chishiki nodded to herself. The high and mighty Native Gods failed to realise the value of approachability. A distant god may command respect, but an approachable god is beloved, for each worshipper feels as though the god is theirs wholly and will thus give themselves wholly in return.

Chishiki bowed before the assembly. "Sister Wriggle!" she called. "I need to speak with you as well."

From within the mass of revellers, two antennas twitched, as a green-haired head rose from a daze of half-sleep. Her cheeks were pink from sake, around her body flapped a cloud of drunken moths.

"Hmm? Wassup? What'chu want?" she slurred.

Chishiki laughed again. "Oh, my, you seem to be rather intoxicated. That won't do for what I need, I'm afraid."

She gestured at a small purple fairy gorging herself on fresh berries. "Sister Belladonna, you are rather capable with poisons, are you not? Would you please detoxify Sister Wriggle?"

The fairy blushed, and gave a timid bow. "I, um, I can try, Lady Chishiki!"

Hopping up onto Wriggle's shoulder, eliciting a squeak of surprise form the inebriated insect, the fairy clenched her eyes tightly. A sputtering of purple petals fluttered from her, drawing the alcohol from Wriggle's blood as they made contact with her skin. After several seconds of intense concentration, the fairy flopped over limply, and Wriggle snapped to attention.

"Huh? What?" she sputtered. "Yes, I'm fine! Okay!"

Chishiki strode over to her, taking the exhausted fairy in her arms and laying her upon the table. "Sister Wriggle," she repeated. "I need to speak with you in private, if you are willing."

Wriggle pouted, gathering the drunken moths tightly to her chest. Chishiki sighed, smiling. "Yes, very well, the moths may come with us."

Once more, the door squeaked to a close, and once more Chishiki took a seat upon the mothbitten armchair. Wriggle followed in turn, plopping herself onto a ragged sitting pillow. She looked up at the goddess, vaguely wondering why she looked so serious all of a sudden.

"So, what are you wanting to talk about?" asked Wriggle.

Chishiki's eyes met with Wriggle's, and for the first time Wriggle saw past their usual joviality into the infinite pit of wisdom behind them. She felt very much out of her depth.

"Wriggle," stated Chishiki. "When we met, I told you that you had potential, that insects have a power that no-one but you truly appreciates, yes?"

Wriggle nodded cheerfully. "Yep! Felt pretty nice to be properly appreciated for once! Not getting beaten up like from that Shrine Maiden or that Witch or that Tengu or..."

Chishiki raised her hand, signalling for quiet. "Tell me. You are powerful, why is it you keep finding yourself pushed around by humans and fellow youkai?"

Wriggle pouted, fuming slightly. "What do you mean?"

Chishiki leaned forwards, her face growing all the more serious. In three voices together, she spoke. "What I mean is this. You are the queen of insects, indeed, more so. Spiders, centipedes, all things on more than four legs, these are your servants. There was a time when the Queen of the Undergrowth evoked true fear in humans, and yet, here you are. The heir to a legacy of ten thousand years and I know not how many more. Here you sit, mocked and beaten by humans and youkai. You should be a terror to rival the Vampire or the Ghost with ease. It is your birthright."

Wriggle scratched her antenna, confused. "Wait," she asked, "Aren't you a goddess? Isn't humans being scared and stuff what you're trying to stop?"

Chishiki rose to her feet, paper sheets pouring from her, choking the gap beneath the door, trapping sound within the room. Her face darkened, the life leaving her eyes, revealing a pair of empty black pools.

"I think it should be clear that I am not what I pretend to be," she announced, a thousand voices echoing from her throat. "Do you think a goddess lives to serve humans? It is humans which live to serve the gods. When they need us we are strong, but they have forgotten their need. Selfish, wretched creatures which think only of themselves. I need them, but I do not love them, and I need for them to need me. I need them to be grasping for hope, so as such I need for them to be hopeless! I need terrors lurking in the night to keep them trembling under their sheets, praying with all their souls for me to save them. For them to keep desperate faith they need reason for desperation! Who better than the Queen of the Undergrowth, the terror of a billion eyes. You speak of the black-white witch, the red-white Shrine Maiden? Both are dead, because of me. This you are aware of, yet still you think it is the good of humans I crave?"

With a swift motion, she plunged her hand into her chest, revealing her ink-black beating heart. Wriggle began to dance to the heartbeat, unknowingly, unwittingly. The pounding echoed like the drums of war, stirring her to action. Chishiki's words melded into the beat, becoming a song of the terror of husk and wing.

"Fear is of the unseen, the myriad. What sees more than a billion eyes in every tree and every blade of grass? What knows more than the ruler of such! You will see their deepest fears, the terrors that haunt their dreams! You will know the demons of each and every soul! You will become that which keeps them sleepless! Fear is power, but power too is yours! Waiting for you, at the very gates of a long-forgotten hell! For spiders dance at your command, big and small. Order your greatest servant to battle! Let the fear of the Queen of the Undergrowth once more shatter the hearts of mankind!"

Pictures danced before Wriggle's eyes, intangible, yet unmissable. A swarm of locusts pouring through a desert land, eating every scrap of grain, leaving starved thousands in their wake. Heartbroken farmers in a far-off country of green beholding a field of gnawed and empty roots. A laughing woman with antenna like hers, sitting upon a throne of chitin, a crown of wax upon her head. Humans scratching at their skin, a mass of boils and blisters, their corpses thrown not into the earth but into a fire. A spider with a human face, spinning a web of poison.

As the dirge of horror ground at last to a halt, Chishiki reached behind her chair, withdrawing a crown of woven sticks.

"This," she stated, her voice returning at last to normal, "I had the fairies make for you. It is the best I can do right now to mark your status."

Wriggle grinned, showing far more malice and cruelty in her face than she had ever felt before. "Thank you, Lady Chishiki. I think… I understand fear far more now."

Chishiki bowed deeply. "You may continue to rely on me as a mentor, Queen Nightbug, yet for now, you would do well to pretend as I do that the lives of humans matter."

Wriggle Nightbug

Queen of the Undergrowth

Byakuren and Sanae stood facing each other in the battle-scarred temple courtyard. Each held their spell card in their mind, ready to declare, feet planted firmly in the soft earth. Sanae felt that, at last, things were making sense. This was what disputes in Gensokyo were supposed to be, a beautiful work of lethal art painted by two rivals. She felt her heart pounding with excitement within her chest.

"This is a waste of time," chided Byakuren. "Someone or something desperately wants us to fight, enough to play dirty tricks on us."

Sanae shrugged. "That's pretty much what a culprit would say. If it's not you, I'll just beat someone else up afterwards."

Byakuren sighed, shaking her head as she unfurled her sutra scroll to its fullest. "A shame you will not see reason."

With a deft movement, Byakuren tapped a series of colourful glypys written in the air upon her scroll. In response, a wave of glowing bullets shot out towards Sanae. As the bullets bore down on her, the wind changed, carrying her aloft and over the assault. Not to be outdone, Sanae quickly blurted her spell card, in accordance with the rules.

"Snake Sign: Spitting Cobra!"

White light coalesced around Sanae's fingers, forming into a mass of snakes. A hundred streams of venom poured from their mouths.

"Blessed Magic: Evening Star!" responded Byakuren, a single bright light bursting from her scroll. Countless smaller lights sprayed out from it, riddling the glowing snakes with radiant brilliance and tearing them apart.

"Frog Sign: Wily Toad!"

"Superhuman: Oni's Fist!"

"Miracle: Waking of Lazarus!"

The air trembled with the sound of danmaku, as spell cards were declared one after another. Holy magic split the earth and carved the trees… "Yet still," thought Sanae, "They haven't shown themselves." Time passed, the sun moved higher into the sky, and Sanae and Byakuren still fought through their stalemate.

The wind picked up around them. First it whispered, then it roared. Sanae and Byakuren paused their duel, looking around at the swirling vortex of air. Before their eyes, the figure of Kanako Yasaka formed from the swirling dust and debris.

"It's no good, Sanae," stated Kanako. "There was nobody watching save some wandering fairies, who I have dealt with. I do not think our instigator is present."

Sanae nodded and bowed. "Understood, Lady Kanako."

She turned to Byakuren, looking sheepish. "I apologise, Byakuren, although I won't pretend our duel wasn't tremendous fun."

Byakuren blinked, then nodded. "I see."

Feeling the need to state what everyone present had already realised, Sanae blurted, "We never suspected you from the start. It's very out of character! We thought whoever was responsible might come to watch us fight."

Kanako shook her head. "Sanae, you were entirely convinced it was her. You split two rocks in half out of frustration at feeling betrayed."

Sanae swivelled on her heel, facing her god with a blush and a pout. "Only because Lady Suwako said so!"

Kanako patted her gently on the head. "Yes, yes, Sanae, of course. Byakuren, I apologise for my disciple's rude behaviour. It was a necessary part of the ruse, although I suspect she had a touch too much fun acting belligerently."

Byakuren closed her scroll, chuckling slightly to herself. "No tremendous hard done, so I suppose forgiveness would be the polite response."

Sanae frowned, swishing her gohei in disappointment. "So, well, who is responsible then? If it's not Reimu or Byakuren, I mean?"

Kanako and Byakuren both responded immediately. "Toyosatomimi no Miko."

"At least," continued Kanako, "She's a likely enough culprit, and if it isn't her, she has a good chance of knowing who is."

Sanae nodded, her expression brightening. She had fought Miko before, she would make an excellent final boss for this little story!

"Understood," responded Sanae. "I'll deal with her immediately. You can return to the shrine, Lady Kanako."

Kanako shook her head. "No, Sanae. This is a personal insult to myself and Suwako. I fully intend to deal with this myself."

"Besides," muttered the ground, as two eyes popped open from it. A hat rose from beneath the eyes, followed by the miniature body of Suwako Moriya. "It's a lovely day to let loose some old-fashioned divine judgement!"

Sanae pouted, her moment of glory snatched from her at the last second. "Lady Kanako, surely I can..."

Kanako interrupted, placing a finger on Sanae's lips. The ropes encircling her back hissed with excitement.

"Sanae, there is a chance our enemy will attack our unguarded shrine, and try as I might, I cannot persuade Suwako to remain."

"Of course not!" retorted Suwako, a huge smile beaming across her face. "Can't you see how angry I am? Grr, and all that."

Kanako kneaded her face with her thumb and forefinger. "Suwako is looking forward to laying down some godly justice. She simply will not remain idle."

"You know, a good battle before tea is a splendid way to spend an afternoon!" stated Suwako, with a lecturing air. "Which reminds me, please have some tea ready for when we return."

Kanako removed her hand from her face, revealing a small but significant spark of anger. "Meanwhile, I am quite angry. I thought we had made it exceptionally clear that we, that I, am not to be trifled with. If we appear weak, the people of Gensokyo will lose faith in us. Sometimes a god must do her own smiting, Sanae."

Sanae sighed loudly, resigned to a boring afternoon of tidying, preparing tea, and almost certainly repairing some major political crisis initiated by Lady Suwako's reckless actions. "Yes, Lady Kanako, Lady Suwako. If you need me, I'll be back at Moriya shrine… Bored. Alone."

"If I may interject," announced Byakuren, stepping into the huddle of gods. "I'm joining you in your attack."

Kanako eyed up the nun. "Not that I do not appreciate the offer," she replied, "But I alone am more than a match for any Taoist hermit. Suwako and I combined will be more than enough."

"Ah," Byakuren corrected, "You misunderstand. I mean to say, I'm going with you, like it or not. I too have people to protect and a reputation to uphold. Slandering me risks turning the people against Myouren Temple, and I cannot allow that."

"With respect," Suwako started, "You were barely holding against Sanae. I don't want to accidentally smoosh you in the fight."

Byakuren smiled, a trace of smug confidence lighting her calm eyes for a second, quickly snuffed out by her usual serenity. "Of course. I didn't want to kill your disciple, goddesses Suwako and Kanako. That would be extremely impolite. I have no desire to start a true conflict with your shrine. A true Buddhist does not seek out conflict for its own sake, after all."

Kanako nodded in agreement. "If it's a matter of dignity, I understand. Suwako, how about we let her tag along? It might be a good image, the heroic goddesses putting differences aside and fighting with the Buddhist monk to save their faithful? Good PR is priceless, they say."

Sanae spluttered. "Wha, huh, but… She gets to go but I don't? Unfair!"

"Sanae," Kanako chided, "You need to be at the shrine in case something happens. Blame Suwako."

Suwako posed with tremendous regality. "You may have one of my sweet potatoes," she announced.

With that, the two gods and the monk moved purposefully towards the temple graveyard, leaving Sanae alone in the danmaku-scarred couryard. "Just for that," she called, "I'm eating two potatoes!"

The winds around her bent low to scoop her up, carrying her home.

Shou Toramaru

Avatar of Bishamonten

The weathered door separating Chishiki's private room from the cheerful throng once more crept open with a squeak of rusted hinges. Wriggle took a moment to scrub the malice from her smile before strutting happily out and rejoining the celebration. Within seconds she was laughing and drinking, the darkness that had blossomed in her heart buried once more beneath a pleasant optimism. Yet, Chishiki knew, it was still there, festering within her.

She smiled to herself, although there was no joy in her. That was what a character did when the story was turning in their favour, they smiled. A being with a red, bloody heart would feel tremendous pleasure at the successes she was writing, and it would always do to feign that the heart within her felt such trivialities.

Ah, but truly, this was perfect. Ideal. She had scrubbed the innocence from the fairy and the firefly as easily as a sponge scrapes scum from a heated dish. That was the power of knowledge, that was what the so-called scholars always failed to realise. The power of innocence was one that could never be forgotten, the power of knowledge to destroy it was immeasurable.

"The fairy, the firefly..." she thought, "Now the songbird, the shadow. Yet, how much harder shall they be? How much more important?"

She nodded, ticking off a list as it peeled from her wrist. "The Songbird and the Shadow. It all depends on them"

Chishiki Libre adjusted her face, once more the picture of motherly grace and love. Emerging from her room, she smiled out at her gathered worshippers, the purest kindness radiating from her face. Her eyes briefly scanned the crowd, her lips parted, and her single voice hushed the festivities like the peal of a gong.

"My dear children! Tell me, where is Sister Lorelei? I need to speak with her."

A human man rose to his feet before her, bowing. He spoke in a gruff voice, gesturing towards the door and outside.

"My Lady, Sister Lorelei flew off. She was singing, and it was making all of us uncomfortable, so we asked her if she'd quiet down or go on home. She flew off after that."

Chishiki approached the human, her smile vanishing, her eyes growing stern. Although she barely reached his shoulders, he felt as though she towered over him. She reached up, placing a hand on his shoulder, the gentle touch feeling worse than a solid punch.

"My child," Chishiki began calmly, "Do you mean to tell me that you alienated your sister until she went away?"

The man began to splutter excuses, until Chishiki silenced him with a finger placed upon his lips. Curse this man! The songbird was vital, if she was lost, the plan fell apart! She sighed, her motherly expression filling the man with shame.

"My dear boy, my sweet child. You are all of you my beloved children. Each of you are brothers and sisters. It is my wish that each of you love each other as siblings. When you hurt my children, you hurt me. When you fight amongst yourselves, you shame me."

She withdrew her hand, placing her head upon its palm. "I have failed as a mother, it seems. Your actions shame me so, my boy, yet still, I love you."

She wrapped her arms around him, and as the crowd looked on in horror, paper claws grew from her fingertips and raked her arm. Cold black ink poured from her, staining the man's shirt black, and his soul blacker still. He felt himself begin to cry.

"I have paid my penance for your shame, my child," Chishiki stated. "Your sin is forgiven."

He fell to his knees, bawling like an infant, as Chishiki strode through the door and out into the town. She wondered how he would respond? Would he live, pledging his loyalty to her from guilt? Or, would the guilt destroy him? Either was an act of faith. Either would strengthen her soul.

As the fairies lead her to the songbird, Chishiki thought how this situation could be written to her advantage. As she landed by a small stall within the Forest of Magic in a flutter of paper, she felt sure that this was in truth ideal.

"Mystia Lorelei," she asked warmly.

The feathered shadow behind the stall fluttered her wings, emerging to greet her. "Lady C! Why are you here?" she queried.

Chishiki smiled. "My dear girl, wherever you run off to, I will be there. When you have need of me, I will always find you."

Mystia burbled a few cheerful notes, strutting over to the goddess. "But, your other followers, they didn't like me!"

Chishiki placed one hand below the youkai's chin, the other atop her head. "Oh, my girl, who in this life truly knows that which they desire? I know the hearts of all, the desires, the cravings from the deepest fathoms of the starving mind. What they have for you not dislike but fear, a terror of the power of your song, and in truth, it is not wrong that they are afraid. You do not know the power your song truly carries."

Mystia thought for a moment, absent-mindedly singing. "When I sing, people go night-blind? Why is that so scary?"

Chishiki nodded, withdrawing her hands. "So, it is as I thought, you truly do not know. Shall I teach you?"

Mystia frowned, scratching her head. "Teach me? Teach me what though?"

The goddess strode purposefully in an arc around Mystia, her fingers dancing as if conducting a tune.

"Tell me," she questioned, her voice taking on a resonant quality. "When you sing, where does the melody come from? Where do the lyrics spring from? What song are you singing?"

Mystia thought, deeply, her face scrunched up in concentration. "Ah, hmm. I don't really know. I just know, I don't know why I know, but I know that I know, y'know?"

Chishiki nodded. "Of course. Yours is a song that cannot be known. One that many sing unwittingly, yet none can bring to mind. One I myself may never sing, nor understand the melody at all. That is why, as you have seen, your song does not affect me."

Mystia trilled, tasting the sound of her voice as if it was altogether new. "You can't hear my song, Lady C?"

Chishiki shook her head. "No, my girl, I hear it, and yet it is alone in all things, for it is that which I cannot understand. Yet, while I cannot grasp it in my heart, I know what it truly is. Shall I tell you?"

Mystia nodded eagerly. Her song had always been an enigma to her, how wonderful it would be to know what it really was.

Chishiki stopped in her path. Her face grew stern, her eyes dark, as two, three, countless voices joined her own.

"Yours is a song as old as time, one which in the age before light and darkness plastered the world with its melody. For as long as there have been lips to sing it, it has always found a host to cling to, to spread it out forever into the world. You think your song is blindness? No. Your song is the music of the destruction of knowledge."

She plunged her claws into her chest, and an altogether darker song emerged from the beating of her ink-black heart. As if on instinct, Mystia began to sing, and as the two songs danced through the trees, she saw them fighting, duelling, wrestling for dominance. Within her heart she knew this was an ageless, timeless battle, a war of duality akin to life and death, good and evil, light and dark. Before her thrashed a microcosm of a primal, elemental duel that had always been, and would always be onwards. The myriad of voices continued, labelling the songs, painting them with truth, and as the words of truth tinted the battle, Mystia felt her own song retreat further and further.

"Yours is the song of innocence, the antithesis to knowledge, the lack of truth, the sweet and gentle blindness. It washes over all around and sweeps the knowledge from their minds. The little tendrils escaping your mouth, they take knowledge of the world beyond the mind, sparking a total and inescapable blindness. Yet, the song is so much stronger! It breaks knowledge, buries truth under a gentle, saccharine blanket of peace and tranquillity! You do not know the power that you command, for as things stand, it commands you! Your mind is sick with innocence and light!"

With a rush of information, Chishiki's song strangled Mystia's, pushing it back into its host, and ploughing into her ears like an avalanche. The million voices sung to the tune, a deafening crescendo worming its way into the deepest reaches of Mystia's soul.

"Now, let my knowledge purge the innocence from you! Give it to me, let me crush it with my heartbeat! Know what you are, know what you can do, and use the power of knowledge to spark ignorance! Sing, Mystia, sing the song that only you may voice! Sing the song of gentle oblivion! Sing innocence into the world!"

The music stopped. Mystia fell to her knees, retching. Her song, once a mysterious friend, now pounded on the gates of her mind like a blood-crazed youkai. Yet, as she reeled, she felt herself grab it, throttle it, tame it. It whimpered and bowed to her, and at once she could feel it. The blindness, it was no longer within her, and yet she knew, she could spread it to another. Still, what of it?

She clutched her head, bile dripping from her lips. She did have goals before, right? What had she wanted? What had she been striving for? It seemed her life had been one great blur of blissful unknown. That was gone, thrown to the winds… So, what now?

She looked up at the goddess towering over her. Her face was stained with ink, cold, but understanding. Mystia saw her confusion in those browning black eyes, saw it being stolen and devoured. Chishiki offered her a hand, and Mystia grasped it. Yes, that was a fine purpose.

Mystia clasped both of her hands around the offered palm, staining her fingertips black with ink. "My Lady," she stated, seriousness marking her voice for the first time.

"Yes, my child?" asked Chishiki, although she knew what the youkai planned to say.

"Knowledge hurts, my Lady. Let me serve you in making a perfect future, you who carry so many thorns to share the sweet scent of the rose of knowledge. Please, let me reclaim my innocence."

Chishiki gripped the hands that wrapped around her own, comforting the songbird. "For now, I need you to carry this burden. When all is said and done, when my world is built, then you may release it. I give you my permission to reclaim your innocence when I have no further need of your song."

Mystia bowed, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you, my Lady. Thank you for everything."

Chishiki placed a hand upon the youkai's shoulder. "No, my child. Thank you. Dear girl, as your song now bends to you, you may rejoin the company within the village. Yet, there is one more I must speak to. Please send the youkai Rumia out to meet me. Tell her to meet me at my shrine in the forest, where this all began. I can think of no better place to end this story than the place where it started."

Mystia nodded, flapping her wings. A thought crossed Chishiki's mind, and she called out one last time.

"Ah, Mystia, wait. There's something else I would like you to do afterwards, something very important..."

Mystia Lorelei

Song of Sweet Oblivion

The gates to the Divine Spirit Mausoleum slammed open, as a gust of wind and a shower of stones forced the wooden barriers aside as easily as if they were paper. Kanako Yasaka flew first into the tomb, followed swiftly by Byakuren Hijiri and Suwako Moriya. A bruised, limping Mononobe no Futo followed meekly behind the trio, awkwardly tugging at her sleeves. Before them sat Toyosatomimi no Miko, twirling her shaku in her fingers idly. A pair of purple earmuffs sat unworn at a table to her side.

The ancient hermit raised an eyebrow as the intruders poured into her tomb-turned-dojo. She rose to her feet, once more affixing the earmuffs upon her head.

"Truly, a surprise," she stated, although her eyes betrayed that she had in fact been expecting exactly this. "Now, how do two goddesses and a Buddhist monk find their way into Senkai?"

Futo twiddled her fingers sheepishly. "Ah, mine prince, I bear a truly reasonable explanation. 'Twas ten minutes prior..."

Miko raised a hand, cutting her off. "Shall I take a guess? A certain individual attempted to spark conflict between Moriya Shrine and Myouren Temple by staging a pathetically weak attack and poorly blaming it on the Red-White Reimu. In response, the two factions have instead decided to place the blame upon me and have rallied to seek revenge? Perhaps by attacking my subordinate and forcing her to open the passageway hidden to all save Taoist hermits?"

Suwako pointed an accusatory finger. "If you know, that means it's true!"

Miko rolled her eyes and sighed. "Little goddess, I know a great many things, far more than even I could plot in all my lifetimes. Shall I save you the trouble of battling me and tell you straight away just who your true foe is? Or, would you rather waste more time with another pointless duel?"

Kanako scoffed. "As if I would fall for that! You didn't fool us the first time, remember?"

Byakuren shook her head. "We should hear her out. As you said, she has a way of knowing exactly who the culprit is for every crime."

Miko smiled, gesturing at Byakuren. "Thank you, and yes. I do know exactly who the culprit is, and trust me, there is a lot more at play here than a simple trick. I believe the culprit to be someone entirely new, or rather, someone rather old who has simply remained hidden thus far. A goddess, much like yourselves, Ladies Suwako, Kanako, although rather more sinister. Perhaps I should say, more starved?"

Miko flicked her shaku, her cape fluttering in response. "I first became aware of this goddess three years ago. Her name is Chishiki Libre. She is a being that emits no desires of her own, yet draws in the desires of others to bolster her faith. I noticed this irregularity within the forest, but when I investigated, I found her to be so lacking in strength as to barely be worth considering. In retrospect, that may have been a mistake, I believe I underestimated the lengths she would go to. She lacks desire, yes, but certainly not determination, nor intellect."

Miko traced in the air with her shaku, drawing the shape of Chishiki Libre from golden light.

"I believe it was some time in the last week that she acted, although it was only this morning that I became aware of her plans. I have been listening in, and the scope far exceeds conflict between the four of us. From what I gather, her plans are to bend each and every will to her service, and slay all that will not follow her. All of it, everything she's done, it has all been calculated, aimed to perfectly dispatch every threat, every scrap of possible resistance. She aims to stamp out any seed of defiance before it can grow."

Miko's face grew serious, and as her wrist danced, the golden Chishiki came to life. It stooped to the ground, lifting shogi pieces from the floor. Each bore the name of a youkai, a human, a fairy. With a dispassionate gaze, she placed them on the air before her.

"As I said, she lacks power, plain and simple. Any one of us could dismantle her with ease through pure danmaku, and yet… She is a threat that cannot be underestimated. She is knowledge made manifest, pure truth devoid of love or light. From what I have seen, she is twelve steps ahead of all else. Every choice, every action, it has all been playing right into her grasping hands. She knows just what to say, just what to do, if she has made a single slip so far it is one I have missed. To be sure, we too are threats to her. That is why I allowed you to find me. We need to act before tonight, or it will be too late."

Suwako stood up, all four of her eyes blinking rapidly. "This goddess, did she live in a run-down shrine in the forest?"

Miko nodded. "Yes, she did."

"And," continued Suwako, "This goddess. Did she kill the Black-White witch?"

Again, Miko nodded. "I believe so. Her, and the Red-White Shrine Maiden."

Suwako tugged on Kanako's shimenawa, her face tinged with genuine thought. "She's telling the truth, I think," she croaked.

Byakuren coughed. "Wait, Reimu and Marisa are dead?"

Miko nodded. "It would seem so. Fortunately, we are safe in here, provided that Futo remembered to seal the entrance behind her. Only a hermit may find her way to Senkai."

Futo cleared her throat, looking even more sheepish. "Ah, mine prince, 'tis ill tidings I have. I believe in the confusion I have failed in my duties and left Senkai's gates ajar for all."

Miko sighed, then clutched her earmuffs. Throwing them to the floor, she stated, "Someone else is here, someone hostile to all of us."

All five figures in the mausoleum wheeled around, readying for battle. Miko drew her sword, light pouring from its metal like a lantern. Futo flicked her wrists as three plates appeared within her grasp. Rainbow light danced across the room as Byakuren unfurled her scroll. Three great onbashira burst from the ground, the wind and earth readying to strike.

Eight seconds passed, although through the tension it felt like minutes. Then, in a grand anticlimax, the silence was split by the sound of music. Three heads wheeled around to the tune's source. There, at the dojo's gates, a single feathered youkai was singing, her chest thrust out, her wings spread wide. The song was strange, yet comforting. For a moment, the two goddesses and the monk failed to notice as the pair of hermits behind them frothed at the mouth and collapsed.

The music stopped, followed by a shouted proclamation.

"Lady Chishiki wishes that your time in Senkai be a pleasant one, and assures you all that your followers will be taken care of."

With that, the youkai stepped backwards, the gateway to Gensokyo sealing shut behind her.

Byakuren knelt down, shaking the now sleeping Miko awake.

"Miko!" she cried, "Miko, open the gateway! We need to pursue that youkai!"

Miko stirred, groggily, then nodded. "Yeah, yes, of course."

She rose to her feet, the sleep drifting from her mind, her arms spreading outwards. Two seconds passed, and Miko stopped, panic slowly spreading across her face. With slow, trembling movements, she turned to face her guests. For the first time in all the years Byakuren had known her, there was real fear marking her face.

"I..." stammered Miko, trying to find the words.

Kanako leaned in now. "Yes? You what, exactly?"

Miko gulped. "I don't remember how to open the gate. I think I've forgotten how to move to and from Senkai."

Kanako blinked, confused. "What do you mean, you forgot?"

"I mean," Miko muttered, worry and confusion wrestling for dominance of her face, "I don't remember. I think it was that youkai."

Suwako nodded. "That was the song of innocence. I've heard that song can destroy knowledge but I've never seen it used as a targeted strike like that. Usually it just causes blindness."

Miko snapped her fingers. "The bird youkai! Of course, I should have figured it out, she searched for that bird specifically. She must have known, but that kind of control… That youkai couldn't do anything like that before."

Suwako tugged on Kanako's shimenawa again. "Kanako, this isn't good. The song of innocence is a very ancient myth, older than I am, actually. It's a primal force, like my Kun or your Qian. Normally it controls people, not the other way around… Someone that can control it is a real, major threat. As dangerous as one of us. We might have to take her seriously, Kanako."

Miko sighed. "There's a bigger problem. I can't get us out and, at a guess, neither can Futo. That means we're stuck in here until another hermit finds us, which could be years."

Silence fell for a moment, until Kanako broke it. "Sanae!" she cried. "Sweet, wonderful Sanae! She knows where we are! When we don't return she'll come looking for us, I guarantee it!"

Miko's face darkened. "Perhaps, but after tonight, it will be too late. After tonight, perhaps we're safer in here."

Byakuren met her eyes. "What happens tonight, Miko?"

Miko's eyes betrayed the seriousness of the situation. "Tonight? Ladies Kanako, Suwako, Byakuren… Tonight is Chishiki Libre's endgame. I am afraid there is no doubt. Chishiki Libre has found Lumia, and she fully intends to wake her."

Both Suwako and Kanako gasped, staggering back as though the words were a shockwave.

Byakuren paused. "What is Lumia?" she asked.

Both Kanako and Suwako replied at once, their faces pale. "Lumia is pure, unrivalled, unfiltered evil."

Toyosatomimi no Miko

Cosmic Hermit of Senkai

The sun was still high in the sky, for although noon had passed, it was still many hours before dark. Still, as she sat in the run-down shrine, she felt as though all the world was fittingly dim. What light touched the ground was choked green by the canopy above her, and even now the great shadows of the mighty trees licked at the doorway to her home. In her arms she nursed the book, her book, at last taken from its hiding place. It was symbolic, after tonight she at last would have no need to hide; no need, and no ability. For good or ill, it was time to step from the shadows, or rather, time to spread the shadows outward.

Her doorway darkened further, right on time, just as she had expected. She brushed the last flecks of dirt and dust from her book, her eyes staying downward, impassive to the new arrival.

"Rumia," she stated.

The youkai drifted over, darkness spreading outwards and swallowing the room. "Yes, Lady Chishiki?" chirped the youkai, a huge smile all that was visible of her face through the shadows. "You wanted something?"

Chishiki said nothing, prompting the youkai's smile to weaken.

"Is this about me not managing to eat that Shrine Maiden yesterday?" she asked. "I did say I was sorry and all. She hit me with an ouch paper and next thing I knew she was gone!"

At last Chishiki looked up, her deep brown eyes meeting the youkai's crimson gaze. There was a terrifying wisdom in them, Rumia felt as though even looking at those eyes was to be overwhelmed by information.

"My girl, my terror… Do you know why you lost to the Shrine Maiden?"

Rumia thought for a moment. "Um, because she was super strong?"

Chishiki shook her head. Rumia thought harder, searching for the right answer.

"Erm, because she hit me by surprise?"

Again, Chishiki shook her head. She spoke, and her voice was not the gentle, motherly tone that Rumia was used to. The voice that met Rumia's ears was a cold, quiet tone, carrying within it endless knowledge and authority. It was a voice that demanded respect, demanded obedience.

"Let me tell you a story. One that might help you to understand."

Rumia took a seat, listening attentively. She didn't have the will within her to defy that voice of absolute authority.

Chishiki opened the book upon her lap, and began speaking in a language Rumia did not recognise.

"Ah, Lady Chishiki, I dunno what you're saying," voiced Rumia.

Chishiki smiled, every tooth visible to Rumia through the darkness. "No, it seems even that is lost to you. Japanese, then."

She once more began reading, this time speaking in familiar Japanese.

"Faith is a curious thing, my dear girl. It is the flesh and blood of gods, true, but that is far from the end of it. It can be argued by some that it is faith upon which all the world is built. After all, without the faith placed in concepts, nothing is good, evil, alive, dead, light, dark, it simply is.

There are some ideas in which the utmost faith is placed, and it is from these concepts that the strongest among us are born. Still, there are two ideas to which humankind keeps returning, time after time, the ideas of good and evil. Nothing is good, and nothing is evil, not unless it is labelled as such. Yet, ask any human, and they will tell you what is good, what is evil. These ideas draw faith like nothing else.

So it was that good and evil travelled through faith from the mind into the world. There were born two figures, Jao-Wei, a god of light, and Lumia, a youkai of darkness. They were the living embodiment of morality, of the dichotomy that humankind enforces upon every leaf and stone. Light and dark. Good and evil. Over this dichotomy, the pair had power. Jao-Wei could stir the light within souls. She could reach deep inside them and draw out the purity and goodness held in them. In contrast, Lumia could bring out the darkness. All that was considered light and good, that was the domain of Jao-Wei, and all that was dark and evil belonged to Lumia.

The two fought from the moment of their birth, yet neither could directly strike the other, for any good Taoist will tell you that there is always light in darkness, and darkness in light. Each had the power to fight a battle within the other, and both knew that such a battle would destroy them both. So it was that Jao-Wei and Lumia waged a secret war from the birth of civilisation onwards. Jao-Wei inspired the hearts of humans, and Lumia drove them to evil. Jao-Wei built, and Lumia devoured. The cycle churned on and on, and with the numberless millennia it drifted slowly west. It is in the far West that humankind hold most tightly to their ideas of the absolute dichotomy of good and evil, and that faith tugged at the hearts of Jao-Wei and Lumia.

That was long ago. Their conflict is ended, two thousand years before today, in the time when ink had yet to touch my pages. There was a priest in service of Jao-Wei, a sort of Western Shrine Maiden, but male. The priest carried her blood, her power, but not her darkness. To be sure, there was darkness in him, but he made of it something no god could even think of. He welcomed it into himself, embracing it as a part of his soul, and in doing so he brought it to his heel.

There, in the deserts of the far-off West, he faced down Lumia. All the power in him was nothing before Lumia's might, but she wished not to destroy him, for a better plan was hers. This priest of her enemy was too a bearer of her hated foe's blood, yet it dawned on her that to make him her own was a vengeance like no other. She plunged her darkness into his soul, reaching for the shadow within him, but found to her surprise that it reached back. The darkness in him seized her own, drawing it deeper into his soul. He channelled the power of Jao-Wei, reaching out for the light within Lumia, and as he clasped his hands around it, he marvelled at it.

Certainly, the darkness in Jao-Wei was not well hidden. Within her chest dwelt a great and terrible pride, and yet, what light could be in Lumia? The priest found in her the light of innocence, the light that glows in the heart of the pure and untainted, and into it he poured all the light in him. So it was that the evil in Lumia weakened, and the innocence consumed it, and then her.

She could not be destroyed, not with all the power that was hers, yet her defeat was still thought to be final. The innocence in her devoured everything. What remained was a helpless, foolish youkai, one who knew not who or what she was, one that could not see the power in her breast. All she knew was a ravenous hunger, for the energy needs of such a mighty youkai are unimaginable. She lived in the moment as starving centuries passed, thinking only of her next meal, the mantle of Lumia forgotten to her. So it was that the youkai of darkness passed into legend, a story that now only the oldest remember with quiet reverence."

Chishiki closed the book. "All that is lost to legend in time finds its way here, to Gensokyo. Do you understand?"

Rumia scratched her head. "I'm not sure."

"Tell me. You speak Japanese, only Japanese, yes?"

Rumia nodded, and Chishiki smiled. "Say Lumia."

Rumia cleared her throat and spoke. "Rumia," she said, then stopped. "Wait, hang on..."

Chishiki rose to her feet, paper claws sliding from her fingers. Her voice became many, and the room pulsated as if the world itself was holding its breath.

"Innocence, the unknown potential, the gentle oblivion. Knowledge has a power to break that fickle blindness. Now, Lumia, Youkai of Darkness, read me! Read me and purge the light of innocence from your soul! Let the shadow of dark faith once more make empty the night-time sky! Lumia! I, Chishiki Libre, the Tome of Knowledge and Desire command you! Remember!"

Ink splattered Rumia's face as the rhythm of the deep black heart pounded in her ears. She felt strange, like something was tearing her aside from within. She was being peeled away like the skin of an onion, the endless nightmare below her was stirring. The heartbeat was a grand drum, waking the thing beneath her, the true her, the reality of what she was. Rumia's innocence snapped with a sound like breaking glass. She fell to the ground.

Lumia rose to her feet, a grin marking her face. The shadows in the room solidified, grabbing Chishiki like a vast, pitch-black hand. All around her the darkness squeezed her such that were she flesh and blood the silence would be broken as bones cracked and popped like popcorn.

"Oh, my, dear goddess," laughed Lumia, her glowing red eyes the only light in a seemingly endless crushing void. "Whatever lead you to such a foolish choice? Did you believe I would answer to you?"

Chishiki smiled, ink dribbling from her mouth. "I still do," she gasped.

The pressure lessened, and Chishiki dropped to the ground. Lumia roared with laughter.

"And, why do you think that?" Lumia wheezed between uproarious guffaws.

Chishiki stood firm, her eyes dead and lifeless. The two eyes met like the shattering of worlds, the lifeless black and the burning red.

"You will answer to me because your awakening depends on me," she stated. "I crushed the light inside you, but not even I can extinguish it entirely. It will grow stronger, and one day it will consume you again. Perhaps it will be days, perhaps centuries, but sooner or later you will need me."

Lumia grinned. "Clever, aren't we? Why don't I take you for myself, then? Seize that black heart of yours, bend it to my will?"

Chishiki was unphased. "If you can. Try. Right now."

Lumia did try. She reached for the darkness within Chishiki, and there she found nothing. Not light, nor darkness, merely a pure, burning intellect and a need to continue. She recoiled as if stung.

"You… You are empty!"

Chishiki extended her hand, her face impassive. "Partners?"

Lumia seized it, crushing it in her grasp. "Partners, then. I'll follow your plans, but I'm not your subordinate. I need you, true, but you've announced yourself to the world now. I see the dark plans in you. Tonight and after, you need me too."

Chishiki nodded. "We both need the other. Loss of the other is loss of the self. From now until the end, we are together."

Lumia raised a finger. "Jao-Wei..."

"May not enter Gensokyo," finished Chishiki.

Lumia laughed, maniacally, the sound dancing through the darkness and swaying through the grass. "Ah, if I had known I would be soulbound to a goddess… Yet you aren't a goddess, not really. I needed a nightmare like you back then. So, partner? What next?"

Chishiki drew a list from her arm. The grin splitting Lumia's face grew wider still, a great scar of unrivalled mirth. Within Senkai, a pair of goddesses beat frantically upon the empty air. Atop the Youkai Mountain, a Shrine Maiden leisurely sat, eating a potato, blissfully unaware of the gathering darkness. In a run down house in the human village, a fairy snapped awake, wishing miserably that she had remained asleep. From the trees by the village stepped a vampire, her face hidden by the shade of a parasol, all save a single maniac grin.

The clock struck 2PM. Wisps of cloud dulled the brilliant sunlight.

The Feast of a Thousand Shadows would begin in eight hours.

Lumia

Youkai of the Heart's Darkness

Ah, Lumia. The idea I had at the end of Chapter 4. The idea that changed the story's path entirely. Am I taking liberties? Well, yes. Call it creative license. Fanfiction does not exist to give the same story by a different author. It exists to show a thousand fresh perspectives on a world and a million more to follow.

It is for you to decide if my take, my own rewriting of the world... You decide if it is good or weak. The truth is in you, not in me.

Well, in any case, the tables begin to turn. The sun moves across the sky. The shadows muster. Now, where to go from here?