Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  “Even so, they are nothing to brush off, my lady,” Flame says. “They could interfere with our plans.”

  “If they really have ties to Showguns.”

  Flame sighs and picks up his cup. “You never worry, do you?”

  “There’s not much to worry about when you’ve been bestowed with unwanted immortality.”

  “Not quite. I’ve been doing my share of looking into CRISIS-D and the Wu School of Oracles that Bastet mentioned,” Flame says. “The good news is that the Wu School of Oracles ought to be where we can find the White Tiger. I believe that’s where her current manifestation is.”

  “Good, then she’s accounted for. We—”

  “Not so fast.” Flame holds up a finger.

  Always the bearer of bad news, are we?

  “CRISIS-D, I’m afraid, is King Ryuu’s link to the Brother World. They’re a magic terrorist organization.”

  Your eyebrows raise. “Magic terrorism? Never heard of that one.”

  “I don’t know what any of his terror entails, but some of my kitsune friends who live around here have seen them around,” Flame says. “Testing their techniques. And rumors have it that they’re looking for a girl.”

  You go still. Now that was something to worry about. The King of Dragons looking for children? Probably not for a good reason. “And how long have they been around? Did they ever find her?”

  “About ten years or so. Longer than us for certain. And no. I don’t think they did. That girl is probably an adult by now wherever she is. But more importantly, be on your guard. With all this publicity the lab is getting, we risk catching their attention.”

  “Well, if we do, the Radiance gene research and the chicks are safe. I doubt we’ll have to worry about the mechs while PoleControl still has them. And once they’re approved for us, everything will be relocated right away for our deployment out to Dragon Palace.”

  Flame cocks his head. “Deployment already? This is much sooner than I expected.”

  “Really I could just send the chicks there now, but the United Republic of Kitsune are at Dragon Palace now. I’d rather not blow up any potential allies.”

  Flame’s eyes narrow at the mention of the chicks: a look you’ve noticed that has started become more and more common whenever the chicks are mentioned. “My lady…” He opens his mouth to finish that statement, then shakes his head and exhales through his nose. “We don’t need them for our mission.”

  A hot twinge sparks in your fingers. Don’t need them? Wasn’t the entire purpose of reviving the Four Benevolent Beasts to revive all of them? “Are you saying we should abandon our mission now?”

  “No. The Azure Dragon is out there somewhere and I’m sure we can reach the White Tiger with a bit of digging. I’m sure our power is more than enough to fight Ryuu along with the mechs.”

  You rest your chin in your hand, drum your fingers on the table, and study him. “You have a problem with the chicks.”

  Flame’s expression shrivels into a curled-lip snarl. You can tell it’s taking a lot of restraint for him not to snap outright on the subject. His empty hand curls and uncurls. “You’ve only endured days with them. I’ve endured centuries with the Vermilion Bird.”

  His sharpness almost takes your words away. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him in this bad of a mood over anything. “Flame the chicks haven’t done anything to warrant getting rid of them. They haven’t caused any trouble. And they are still just babies.”

  He snorts. “You say that now. But just because they do cute things and have fancy genes in them doesn’t mean their nature will ever be any different from the original.”

  “Flame, I haven’t forgotten they’re war goddesses, but I think you’re being a little too harsh on them. They wouldn’t hurt a fly unless they’re told.”

  “Unless their told, hmm?”

  “Do you have proof that they’re hurting someone?”

  His arms fold. He clears his throat. “When you get home, I think you should speak to the quiet chick. I think that’s Masah?”

  Your breath catches. Masah has always been the more apathetic of the two. “What happened?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but she’s more withdrawn than she usually is,” Flame says. “I have the feeling that something is wrong.”

  “Withdrawn as in sad? Moody? Won’t talk?”

  “All three. I’m not sure if that’s from her gene makeup or temper, but I wouldn’t leave it for guessing if I were you.”

  “Flame she’s not going to hurt—”

  “How do you know that?”

  The room goes quiet. Flame’s fist clenches. So do yours.

  Flame gives a minute shake of his head. “You don’t understand. The Vermilion Bird is—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “She is a jealous goddess, my lady. And a scheming one. She stole from me before— my northern winds and my gender.”

  “You were a woman before?” You ask.

  “There is a reason why I’m the only male out of the Four Benevolent Beasts,” Flame says dryly.

  “I understand your concern, but personality is just as much nurture as it is nature.”

  Flame’s fist clenches again. That one gesture thickens the air in the whole room.

  You almost feel the tension, like a stretching balloon skin looming toward a waiting needle point.

  Then Flame exhales and turns his head away. “You’ve been warned. Good day, my lady.”

  Flame’s words stay with you all day.

  They stay with you on the drive home. They stay with you in the parking structure. They stay with you on the walk up to your seaside condo. They stay with you when you chi-swipe into your home. Instead of hearing the automated voice welcome you, all you hear is, “You’ve been warned.”

  The door hisses open. You drop your bags inside on the carpet. “Bastet?”

  Your voice echoes through the dark living room, but cat goddess doesn’t answer. Loud cartoony boing noises blare upstairs. At the very least, it seems like Masah is here. Maybe Bastet took Mura somewhere? You walk up the brown-carpeted stairs.

  A wedge of lamp-light fans out under the twins’ bedroom door.

  You draw a breath and open the door.

  Only Masah’s back greets you. She’s in front of the laptop playing chess on one window while The Red Hood is streaming in another. New books you haven’t seen before are piled high on the edge of Masah’s desk. Thick books that remind you of the layman-unfriendly tomes in your professors’ offices. Mostly self-help titles. Mindset. The Big Book On Self-Esteem. Guide To Positive Thinking. Stress Management. How To Stop Worrying. How World Champions Play Chess.

  Stress and worry books? You’re fairly certain that you haven’t exposed either chick to anything dramatic enough to cause high-stress. What could she be worrying about? You linger in the doorway. “All alone tonight?”

  Masah’s mouse clicks slow. A victory fanfare plays from her chess game. “Yes. Bastet took Mura to the store for ice cream.”

  “And you didn’t want to go with them?”

  “I prefer the quiet.”

  You step into the room, approaching the chick. And you find two more books. One in her desk Little Red Riding Hood. Another in her lap. “Reading, playing chess, and watching anime all at once? You’re quite the multitasker, aren’t you?”

  “One task at a time is not sufficient,” Masah says in her flat monotone.

  Her close-ended statement make you want to sigh. Even though you know Masah’s people skills aren’t award-winning, you wish that she would say something a little less close-ended. “And what is that you’re reading now?”

  “Cain and Abel.”

  “The Bible?” You ask. Western religious texts are uncommon in Tokaido. As a matter of fact, any foreign religious text is uncommon here ever since the ongoing wave of tension between Pua Moana and Tokaido natives. But Masah? A goddess reading the text of another god?

  “Yes, Bastet mentioned it to me when we went to the book
store today. The premise interested me.”

  You put a hand on top of the book pile. “You’ll have to remind me. I’m not so familiar with anything in that book.”

  Shlip! Masah turns a page in her book. “There are two men. Cain who grows food and Abel is a shepherd. When they give offerings, God isn’t as pleased with what Cain gives. Cain gets so upset that he murders his own brother and God punishes him with expulsion.”

  Your mouth dries a little. Surely, there are more interesting things than reading about murder? You finger the hardcover book jackets. “And why does that interest you?”

  “I wanted to know why it happened.”

  “Why Cain killed his brother?”

  “No, why God separated them in the first place.” Shlip! Masah turns another page. “This god is all-knowing, isn’t he? Didn’t he know that if he treated one brother different than the other, then Cain would kill Abel?”

  You lift your hand away from the books and put both hands on Masah’s shoulders. “Masah, give God the benefit of the doubt. You are an intelligent, powerful goddess, but do you know everything?”

  Masah pauses mid-pageturn. “I suppose not.”

  You squeeze her gently. “And even so, that does not excuse the crime. We don’t blame a property owner because a thief breaks into his house. Regardless of what others do, you can always choose to not be like them. And besides…” You rest your chin on the top of her head. “That book of yours sounds like it’s not telling all of their story. In real life, people rarely murder for one incident like that. For all you know, Cain might have hated his brother for a long time. And what God said might’ve been the last straw.”

  “Then it is not all his fault? He was provoked.”

  “No, it is still his fault. Provoked or not. But we might not feel so bad for Cain if we knew how he felt.” Masah does not respond to this, so you change the subject and point to the books on the table. “You are looking into stress management too?”

  “Those are not mine,” Masah says. “Sister picked those out herself. I do not think she has read them yet.”

  Mura is stressed? Didn’t Flame say that Masah was the one who was behaving oddly? Mura is always bouncy and happy to talk everyone’s ear off. She has even less reason to be stressed than her sister. Maybe he was just mistaken? Or misread her behavior? “And everything is okay with you and your sister?”

  This time the answer is not instant. “Mother, why do I have a sister?” There is a hint of something in her tone. A waver? A scoff? Emotion? She is so quiet that you can never tell what she feels.

  “You don’t like Mura?”

  “She can be a nuisance. But also I did the math.” Masah reaches for a sheet of paper with math calculations on it and hands it up to you. “I found that keeping her is resource-inefficient.”

  At that you can’t help, but smile. It’s something you probably would’ve tried on your own mother if you thought of it. Gods know, your younger brother and sisters only seemed to live to get on your nerves. But you decide to humor Masah and take the paper and look at it. There are columns for you, Bastet, Masah, Mura, and even Flame with amounts for the quantity of things used, the proportional cost of it, and tax wherever applicable. Unsurprisingly, her math is spot on, just like the original Megumi. Mura really does use the most out of everyone in the house. You fold the paper into a neat square. “That might be true, but I don’t keep you two because it’s convenient for me. You’re both family. Family has to stick together.”

  “Even if they are a detriment to those around them?” Masah asks.

  “Well, it depends on why they are a detriment,” You say. “Some people have disabilities or illnesses and they can’t help it, but we don’t abandon them for that. That’s cruel. My siblings do things that I don’t like, but that doesn’t mean I would abandon them if they needed help. And they wouldn’t abandon me either. But if they did things that hurt others, then we’d have no choice but to get away from them to protect ourselves.”

  “If they hurt others?”

  “Yes. Mura doesn’t hurt you, does she?”

  Masah flicks the edge of a page with her finger. She breathes a very quiet “no”.

  “If there was something wrong, you would tell me, right?” You ask softly. “Not bottle it up like Cain did.”

  “No.”

  Your heartbeat pistons against your ribs. “No?”

  “I mean I would not bottle it like Cain.”

  “Good.” You give Masah another shoulder squeeze. “That’s what I hoped you meant. But also remember that even though you don’t like the things your sister does, that doesn’t mean that she’s bad. She might not even know that she’s offending you.”

  If Masah is listening, she doesn’t give any sign of it, so you take that as a sign to leave Masah be. “I’ll leave you to your games then.” You turn for the door.

  “Mother?”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “You would not treat Sister and I differently, would you?” Masah asks. “The way God did?”

  “Of course not, dear. You are both special to me.” And not the dangerous monsters Flame keeps making you both out to be.

  2-5 'Ah'

  Towers of rock flank the black ocean, heralding Regi’s chosen stop. Flat rock slabs pile high along the coast clifftops like a primordial fortress while the white-crested surf pounds against the worn shore, briny foam licking a deserted kingdom of stone.

  I watch the jagged peaks smooth gradually to stretches of moon-washed sand beyond the window. “Ah, the beach is your surprise.”

  “Heh.” Regi puts on his blinkers to turn. “You guessed the surprise.”

  “So hard to guess with a gigantic ocean right next to us. We should’ve brought something to swim in.”

  Regi chuckles. “But we didn’t come to swim.”

  I tear my gaze from the beach. “Then what are we going there for?”

  “Not gonna say. You’re gonna have to see when we get there.”

  I give a melodramatic sigh.

  He smirks. “Don’t worry. I promise it’s worth the wait.”

  The next few minutes are almost painful as Regi finds a space to park in the lot. He brings a whole basket with him. I don’t remember him bringing it to the car. He must’ve put it in beforehand, but why? Is this a picnic? No. Food wouldn't have kept for so long. The questions run my mind in circles.

  He closes his trunk. “Ready?”

  "No, we'll just stand here till we're old and gray."

  “Ha.” He rubs his arm. “I'll take that as a yes.” Rising with our basket, he takes my hand. “Now, I’m gonna need you to do me favor and close your eyes.”

  I groan. “There’s more?”

  “This is the last thing I’ll ask you to do, I promise, babe.”

  “Regi—”

  He cuts me off with a kiss. “Please?”

  My gaze flits from his lips to his eyes. “You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

  Regi grins. “I’ll take that a yes too.”

  I close my eyes.

  Regi pulls me forward. “No peeking, Jun.”

  My stomach flutters. I’m really tempted.

  Ocean waves ssshhh in my eardrums. We’re walking beside the sea, so close that a gentle wave laps at my sandals. The air is full of seasalt's tang. Sands change to solid uneven hunks of rocks that tumble and clatter as my feet skirt near.

  Regi lets go of my hand to put a protective arm around my waist. “Watch your step. It gets a little rough from here.”

  My steps slow until I’m too hesitant to take another step. I have to wait for Regi’s lead and match his steps.

  The path steepens, and the rocks get smaller and smaller.

  My pulse gallops in my ears. Any moment it feels like we could both slip and hit the rocks under us.

  The sound of the waves quiets, but it doesn’t disappear. We reach solid ground again. And then Regi stops me with two hands— sweating hands. “Alright, you can open your e
yes.”

  My eyes flutter open.

  A cave mouth looms in front of us. Blue-gray rock stretches like a tongue into the inviting darkness.

  “Wow…” I take a few steps toward it. “When did you find this?”

  “Around last week,” Regi says. “My dad brought the whole fam to the beach. I haven't been inside though.”

  I tug on his arm. “Let’s go inside.”

  Regi’s eyes widen. “You want to?”

  “Yes.” I squeeze Regi’s hand. “You didn’t bring me here to stand around and look, did you?”

  “No, no… Of course not.”

  I smirk, leaning into his ear. “Scared?”

  Regi scowls. “No.” Now he’s the one tugging me to follow him.

  The darkness blinds me to the point where I can’t see Regi next to me. But all his muscles are tight.

  I love everything about this place already: the cold air sending tingles up my back, the shadows beckoning me forward, and strange ancient energy crackling in the air.

  My fingertips graze the rough porous walls. “There’s nothing down here, right? No animals?”

  Regi brings out a small keychain light, shining it ahead of us. “Nope. Just that dead end.”

  The tunnel opens up into a small chamber where the walls are completely smoothed down. In the rock face before us, there’s a crude engraving of a shrine, etched foxes in a ring, a woman looking into a held mirror and some faded words underneath. I can tell from the X-shaped shrine roof front that it’s meant to represent Ise.

  The urge to touch the words stirs in my chest. Letting go of Regi’s hand, I trace my palms along the lines to see if I can feel the letters and read it that way. As my skin grazes the wall, I realize that these letters aren’t the ordinary A-Z of Common Tongue. These letters are more like symbols. This is Oldspeak, Tokaido’s language before Common Tongue became mandatory— before chi and sustainable energy, before Emperors were considered obsolete. Hell, before Tokaido was even named Tokaido. “Nana…koro…bi…yaoki…”

  “You know Oldspeak?” Regi asks.