Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  I stagger to regain my balance and keep running. A giant man and woman stop in front of me to have a chat.

  I clench my fangs. Go have your conversation somewhere else! I run all the way around them and finally make it to the mirror.

  And the first thing I hear is, “Bok-bok-bok! Cock-a-doodle-BOOM!”

  A jet of fire flies toward my face. I bring up my shield. When I lower it, I find a rooster mech flapping in front of me. I take a step forward only to almost lose my footing.

  I’m on a floating platform. There’s a blackness down below.

  Ooooookay. I think I’ll just stay here. My platform starts to rise up.

  The rooster mech starts it’s annoying crow again.

  I fire an ice shot at it.

  The rooster goes down but two mechs more come.

  “Bok-bok-bok! Cock-a-doodle-BOOM!” Two jets of fire fly at me.

  I hop to the other side of the platform and shoot them both down.

  “Bok-bok-bok! Cock-a-doodle-doooooooo! Bok-bok-bok! Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooo!”

  Where the hell is that coming from? My gaze darts around in all directions, but I can’t see anything.

  Bzzzzzrt! Bzzzzzzzrt!

  I freeze.

  Are they calling what I think they’re calling?

  Ahead of me a bright vermillion light glows in the darkness. Lightning streaks toward me.

  I duck.

  The Vermilion Bird whooshes overhead like a bullet train.

  Hot wind buffets me. Heart hammering against my chest, I get to my feet to keep it in sight. There’s no way that I can afford getting hit by that.

  The Vermilion Bird wheels around, climbs in the air, and swoops at me with outstretched talons.

  I dodge to the other end of the platform and shoot at it. The ice bullet goes right through it as if it were an illusion.

  My gut tightens. Fuck. Mirror if you’re hiding around here somewhere now would be a nice time to show up.

  But the Vermilion Bird cuts around and faces me. And only then do I notice the glow of the mirror on its stomach.

  I stiffen. I have to grab it?

  The Vermilion Bird screeches and spews another jet of lightning at me.

  I duck again, watching carefully.

  The Vermilion Bird beats it wings loudly and lifts itself again with a screech.

  This time I pick myself up into a couch. Come on do your worst, Thunder Fried Chicken. The Vermilion Bird dives at me again. Only this time, I grab hold of its legs and thrust one hand up into a mirror.

  The scene changes again.

  This time I fall onto a platform of red stained glass, but each glass fragment is as reflective as a normal mirror. Dry air parches my mouth right away. A stairway curls up to the next platform.

  I glance around briefly. No tricks or enemies? I walk to the edge, peering down. The morning sky is underneath the platform. But there’s nothing beyond that.

  I walk up to the second platform, which is empty as the first. The stained glass, however, is different; it features Duke’s face. And this platform is noticeably hotter than the one that came before it.

  Is she trying to cook me or something? I wipe the sweat off my forehead before continuing on. The last staircase is excruciatingly long. The heat turns up with every step. And the air gets heavy like invisible barbells pressing on your shoulders.

  The top platform is a red-tinted mirror. Flames edge around the boundaries, waving dangerously back and forth. As soon as I step with in the platform’s boundaries, flames whoosh up behind me, locking me in.

  An empty throne of thorns sits on the other end.

  So this is the end?

  “Mai?” I call. “Where are you?”

  “They say that every person has three faces,” Mai’s voice echoes. “The first face, you show the world. The second face, you show your close friends and your family.” Mai phases into the chair, face as youthful as all of her old photos around the house. She doesn’t look the least bit uncomfortable in her prickly seat. “The third face you never show anyone. It is the truest reflection of who you are.”

  As she finishes, the sky around us dims to pure black. And the only light is from the flames dancing all around us.

  “Your honne?” I ask.

  Mai nods. “That’s what I want to see here from you.” She stands up and walks forward a few paces. “Don’t worry. I promise that it’s just me here.”

  Good. Because I don’t care to repeat another game of 100 Amaterasu On The Wall. “So what are the rules?”

  Mai holds out her hand. A large broadsword gun blade appears in her hand. “Don’t buckle under the pressure.”

  I open my mouth to ask another question. I don’t get a single syllable.

  Mai is in my face in an instant. She swings her blade down.

  I bring my own blade up to block it. The ferocity of the blow rattles my arms. Even my teeth clack in place.

  Since when the hell was Mai this strong? I push back.

  Mai leaps away, taking aim at me. Fiery bullets scream toward me.

  I bolt away from them, firing my own back.

  Mai dodges them easily, each sidestep bringing her closer to me. She sweeps her blade horizontally in front of me.

  I just barely bring my blade up to defend myself.

  The force of her blow sends me rolling across the platform. I land on my back, gasping for breath. But I don’t even have enough time to register it. Mai jumps at me, plunging her blade down at me.

  Panic lances through my limbs. I roll away, staring at her in open-mouthed surprise. “Geez, can I get up?”

  Mai stands up, her expression stony. “Welcome to hell.”

  Hell?

  I don’t get anytime to think further. Mai towards me, jumps, and her body phases into that of Duke. And by Duke, I mean a giant flaming Malamute. She streaks after me.

  I ward her away with slash after slash. But even the ones that connect barely do a thing. They only push her away. And a few seconds later, she’s attacking away. With a final horizontal sweep, I manage to get her to back off.

  Mai shifts back into her human form. “Tired already?”

  Panting, sweating, I shake my head.

  She draws her blade again. “You’re a bad liar.”

  How the hell am I supposed to win if physical attacks don’t work? I bring up my own weapon warily. Would wayfinding work? She was the one who taught it to me. She’s faster than me. But if she got close… I feel for my resonance. My skin warms.

  Mai runs for me again.

  My heart pounds. The urge to get out of the way screams at me. Wait.

  She raises her blade to swing.

  I snag her with my magic.

  At once, the world plunges into blackness. Hot pain sears me to the core. And pressure like a steamroller crushing my lungs. I feel like I’m burning alive.

  Is this what she feels all the time?

  Mai’s memories flood through my mind. The day she joined Red Dragon Academy the first time. The day she became a full-fledged assassin. The day she learned she was pregnant with Genji. The day I was born. The day she took Genji took the bookstore.

  The pain escalates to a sharp agony. Why are these memories causing pain? There’s nothing bad about any of them!

  More memories flicker in. A visit to an Elephant Sanctuary with my mom. Duking winning Best In Show. The day I took my first steps. The day I became a full-fledged Hound.

  Then I realize that the pain isn’t from the memories at all.

  They’re because Mai doesn’t want to let go.

  Without warning, my body goes numb. My vision goes black again.

  Light floods in again.

  Mai and Mom walk the pathway to Ise Shrine.

  Mom has a hand over her pregnant belly and a furrowed look on her face. “I can’t believe Ama is asking all of this of a child.” Mom says. “She’s not even born yet and I’m already worried for her life.”

  “If she couldn’t handle it, she
would never have been chosen, Hikari,” Mai says. “Consider it Ama’s godly guarantee.”

  “I know, but…” Mom looks away. “I’m not like you or any of the lives. I can’t protect her from them.”

  “Don’t sweat it. If anything happened, I’ll take care of her myself. I promise.”

  “Really?”

  Mai grins. The spitting image of brash confidence. “Of course. A Showgun past or present always keeps her word, you know.”

  Mom’s lips mash together at those words. “Mai, please don’t swear on that.”

  Mai stops in front of my mom. “Why not? It’s a serious promise!”

  “Ugh, it’s just you and that gang… I can’t believe you’re tangled with them. And that Ama approves of it.”

  Mai tsks at her. “You humans, I swear. Ama’s not the prude you all keep making her out to be. She goes out to night clubs on Saturday just like every other freak!”

  “Mai!”

  The memory ends.

  I’m standing on the platform again. Mai is bent over, blade stabbing into the mirror below. One glance in her eyes and I know.

  It’s over.

  The mirror surface lights under our feet. Mai picks herself up again, gazing at me with a strained smile.

  “But—” I’m cut off by my body’s sudden ascent. The trial is ending. I try to reach for her.

  This time Mai doesn’t try to reach back. “Don’t forget to keep your promise, Jun.”

  I put my hand down.

  As I get higher and higher, the flames of her platform, by unspoken command, cut loose and press in, surrounding Mai.

  She doesn’t budge, or shy away from them. Her gaze stays on me. For a brief moment, her gaze darkens into something I can’t quite read. Doubt? Fear?

  But I don’t get the chance to figure it out.

  Mai turns her back on me, fire eating at her form until she perishes in the endless ocean of her own flames.

  The Inner Garden of Harmony (Outside)

  The Other Side Of The Story

  Please enjoy a sneak preview of the Yin side of the story: Vicissitude: Heaven Gained~

  Do Note: Vicissitude: Lost Earth and Vicissitude: Heaven Gained are both considered to be “Book 1”.

  Vicissitude

  1. Alternation between opposing or contrasting things.

  ~~~

  "Feign madness, but keep your balance."

  — Stratagem #27

  ~~~

  Where is it?

  Wide dark eyes scan over the mounds of papers scattered on the desk. Nothing. Her brown eyebrows furrow tightly, then unfurrow. Her lips part with a caught breath.

  Why is it not here?

  Eun Hae stands still in the darkness. Thinking. Pacing. She puts a curled finger to her grit teeth.

  Shit.

  She studies the room again with her hands on her hips. Then she springs to the bookshelves, yanking books and military strategy booklets from their places, flipping through them, scowling as her searches amount to nothing and slamming them back into their place.

  Where could the Second Hand be?

  Behind her, the door creaks.

  Eun Hae clenches her teeth. What now? She specifically told the servants in Kim Manor that she didn’t want to be disturbed while she was visiting. She straightens. “Yes? Can I help you with something?”

  A brief glance at the newcomer’s blue tunic, the King’s Hand Guard motif, and the Qilin emblem on his horned mogwan makes Eun Hae stiffen.

  Bo Jong is back from his patrol early.

  Eun Hae suppresses an impatient hiss. She’ll have to resume her search another time. “What? Couldn’t stand to be away from me?” She tries to keep her voice as upbeat as possible, but the lack of response is pressing her patience more than she’d care to admit. Her husband couldn’t have picked a worse time to come in.

  Bo Jong closes the door and shakes his head slowly. “I wish that was the case.” He comes around the desk and puts his arms around her waist. “Just stressed tonight.”

  Eun Hae forces herself to take a relaxed breath. You’re not the only one. “What happened?”

  “My guard had to break another Kim-Pak fight on the way here.” He rests his chin on her shoulder. “One of the Paks had a Magus Panther in his Soul Bonds. Of course, we found out he was unregistered when we arrested him.”

  Eun Hae says nothing for a while, wordlessly moving her hand over his. As a fellow Hwarang commander, she understands the pain and hassle of dealing with a Magus Panther—how deadly one could be, even if their bonded vessel isn’t trained in combat. In a softer voice, she asks, “Was anyone hurt?”

  Bo Jong strokes her arms. “Hae Sup. Ha Ung.” He takes a deep breath of his own. “It is…unlikely that they’ll recover.”

  She turns and presses her cheek to his, inhaling his warm cedar scent. “My condolences.”

  “They were good packmates.” He nuzzles back. “Do trainees learn how to deal with Magus Panthers in your guard? I’m thinking that perhaps it is time that I might press it this time around. Start them early.”

  Eun Hae pulls back to look at him. His face is fraught with new creases. “Worry about those who are already full-fledged guard members first.” She cups his jaw. “I would not dream of sending a Wing of Heaven trainee after a Magus Panther, even if they were trained on the subject. And besides, the Darkborn, Baekche, and the Gaya Confederacy are a bigger problem right now.”

  Bo Jong scowls and presses his warm forehead to hers. “Yes, but… Now is the time to be standing together and fighting as one nation, and yet Silla is buckling apart from within.”

  “Silla has not buckled to anyone yet. And it will not start tonight.”

  The creases in Bo Jong only seem to deepen as if he might be thinking: Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow for sure. “Are you finished copying the Magus Panther registry?”

  Eun Hae glances at the book left out on the table. She forgot all about her excuse to snoop. “Yes. I don’t understand why Queen Seon Deok doesn’t make the registry public.”

  “She probably thinks that if it’s public, Magus Panthers will organize and cause more trouble.”

  Eun Hae chuckles. “That is the silliest thing I’ve heard.”

  Bo Jong doesn’t laugh with her and Eun Hae stops chuckling. Probably not the best joke to be making now. Magus Panthers are just one more thing to juggle along with the hanging pressure of their coronation. Something she dreads too.

  Especially with her Second Hand missing. The moment its binding words leave someone’s lips would be the moment she loses her freedom forever.

  But Eun Hae was so certain it would be here. She’s been in everything, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Eun Hae can’t help but feel a bit miffed at her husband’s lack of involvement. He’s just a tame pussycat. A pussycat living in a den of vicious tigers.

  But she can’t shake the feeling that the Second Hand is somewhere in Kim Manor.

  I’ll have to send Al Cheon back here. As a Hwang still, it’s entirely up to Bo Jong’s whims if she were allowed back to Kim Manor, but he usually preferred her quarters for his visits. And even then, Al Cheon might not even be allowed to walk around without—

  Warm kisses pepper her neck.

  Oh.

  Eun Hae’s eyes flutter shut, trying to gather her thoughts. But Bo Jong is pressing her back against the bookshelf, nibbling all the sensitive spots that make her heart race.

  His hands find her hips, holding her close.

  She feels his need pressing against her, even through their tunics. “Bo Jong.”

  He undoes her belt.

  Finally, getting a hold of herself, she grips his hands. “Not tonight.”

  “Eun Hae, we need an heir.”

  “I know. But Queen Seon Deok is coming to my office, and I need to look and smell presentable.”

  Bo Jong pulls back. His lips pinch together tight, then he looks away. “Very well. I’ll have a servant escort you out.”

&
nbsp; Eun Hae watches him leave. Her heart sinks a little. It does every time he comes to her to make their heir. She can tell how badly the man wants one. How good a father he could be to that heir. But Silla isn’t short of loving husbands or fathers.

  Silla is missing a proper king.

  And Kim, Bo Jong is many things, but a king is simply not one.

  Eun Hae re-buckles her belt, and gets her sword from the corner of the room. As soon as she finishes, there is another knock on the door. “Come in.”

  A young man enters, not much older than her, donning the plain white tunic, blue trousers, and furred moccasins of all male Kim Clan servants. The strong, smoky stench of drakehorse manure and hay clings to him.

  His skittish black gaze hesitates to meet hers. “I’ve come to take you to your drakehorse, Seju.”

  Hands behind her, Eun Hae follows without a word.

  The stable boy keeps his head down, even while in front of her. He strides quickly, pauses awkwardly, and blushes at the realization that Eun Hae does not speed up to meet his pace. It makes her wonder what branch of the Kim Clan he’s from. Certainly not one of a nobleman’s families. And that makes him fascinating to watch (if one ignored the fact that there’s nothing else in the hall to quell her boredom).

  But what’s even more fascinating is the sword on his back.

  Red scabbard. Silver ring pommel with a S-shaped dragonbird at its center. Rune enchantment on the hilt: Urraiwaberk. Her enchantment knowledge is rusty, but Eun Hae knows the translation by heart. Forever faithful, until my dying breath.

  Eun Hae’s eyes widen briefly, then her gaze quickly resumes nonchalance. Where did you get a Wing of Heaven sword, stranger? He couldn’t have stolen it. Her Hwarang would’ve reported it. But Eun Hae doesn’t know of anywhere else a stranger could have gotten a sword like that.

  The pair enter Kim Manor’s courtyard where their only company is a quiet breeze, a marbled tiger fountain roaring water from its mouth, the tense air, and the darkness all around them.

  The stable boy’s attention darts around the courtyard.

  Eun Hae’s only focus is him.