The Blooms of Shenkuu: Legacies

     The words sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them as his mind settled into a quiet panic. There was nothing to do now, no getting word to the Emperor, no time for battle preparations. He would have to hope the ship was friendly, or his career would be over, not that the ship really seemed friendly. But he couldn’t lose face now.

     He turned to the two young deckhands. “Go downstairs and tell the crew there’s been a change in the schedule. A ship is arriving with special guests of the Emperor. Tell them to ready pier 5.”

     The boys looked shocked, but they knew how to take an order. With a quick nod, they dashed down the stairs. And, after a moment to compose himself, Sora walked down the stairwell as if it were a pirate’s gangplank, surrendering to whatever fate lay before him, and not for the first time in his life.

     The ship was close enough now to see figures standing on a raised platform in the centre of the deck. A wave of murmurs and gasps ran through the crew standing by with thick ropes in their hands as they realized that most of the figures were wearing what appeared to be flowing dresses and long braids that whipped in the wind. Usually, ladies stowed themselves away safely below deck, not on the commander’s platform with the ship in full flight.

     As the ship got closer still, Soratoshi considered reaching out to this strange ship. He thought perhaps he could sense if the ship were friend or foe, or perhaps sense where it had come from. It was a bit farther to reach than he was used to, but it was worth a shot. He took a breath and reached.

     And he burned. It wasn’t the sting of putting a tail too close to a fire, but the deep scalding pain of a body emerging from a deep freeze, every limb consumed by a white fire. And the sensation of being slapped against a wall of ice, his fur and feathers melding with the ice, and then ripped apart from it. A wind as cold as Snowager’s breath blew through him. Something shrieked. It was high and twisted, but it was almost like a voice, almost like a voice screaming GET OUT.

     And then he recoiled like a spring, snapping back to his own body. He stumbled backwards, his head blinded with hot light. It seemed like time stopped, and then a voice called to him.

     “Harbormaster Soratoshi? Are you quite alright? I fear the excitement has unsteadied you. Let me introduce my party. I am Lady Red, and together with my collection of talented darlings, we are the ladies of the Scarlet Curtain. We are a theatrical society, here at the invitation of the Emperor himself. My apologies for not writing ahead, but I’m sure the Emperor let you know of our impending arrival, and well, we would hardly live up to our theatrical reputation without a dramatic entrance.”

     As Sora’s vision returned, he realized he was staring at tall Kyrii with golden eyes and long flowing red hair. Her fur was the deep purple-blue of twilight. She winked at him mischievously, as if they had a secret between them, as if she knew that he needed to smooth over this startling situation.

     He felt like a boy who’d gotten caught in some mischief. “Uh yes, the Emperor … he might’ve mentioned something, must’ve slipped my mind.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked around at his crew, to see if they were buying any of this.

     But the lads were only half listening, they were all staring at the group of charming young ladies who had just stepped off the gangway and into their lives, each one as lovely as Lady Red herself.

     The Harbormaster suddenly frowned. “And where did you get that ship? I’ve never heard of a ship like that outside of the Imperial fleet. It seems very old, and …” he trailed off, feeling as if his throat had frozen over, remembering the blast.

     “Ah yes, she’s a rare treasure. An ancient artefact from another time. She’s a surprise for the Emperor, you see.”

     “So … it’s not a new ship then? I thought the technique had been … lost to history.”

     “History has a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it, Harbormaster?” She said in an edgy tone that warded him off further questions, as if she were looking into him and seeing his long-held secrets.

     He suddenly didn’t want to know more. “I’ll show you to the main gate, m’lady. There should be plenty of carts to take you to the palace from there. I hope you enjoy the festival.”

     To ward off the chill he still felt despite it being a mild and sunny day, he busied himself with his harborside duties and tried to turn his mind to the frenzied happenings of the festival. Besides, wasn’t it said that a lady never reveals her secrets? Perhaps, and he soothed himself with the thought, perhaps that was a famous saying for good reason.

     *****

     Crouched behind the crooked trunks of a copse of trees near the eastern entrance to the city, a stranger waited. Gloved hands pulled a long cloak closed tightly around them, as if to keep out the wind, although there was hardly a breeze blowing. The cloak was dyed the colours of Shenkuu, a bright red and cheery yellow with gold trim.

     The stranger’s face was hidden behind a large, glittering Cyodrake mask - its one jewelled eye glinted as the stranger twisted their head to the two Imperial soldiers at the gates. The guards leaned against the gate pillars lazily, since most festival-goers were arriving by ship on the other side of the city, they didn’t have much to do, apart from greeting a few merchants and their families from nearby provinces, come to peddle their goods to eager tourists.

     The stranger checked once more down the Eastern road to make sure it was empty. The thick yellow fog that hung thick beneath the bridge, and clung to the lower levels of the peaks, had started to rise. It curled itself around the gate and stretched itself like a Kadoatie’s tail along the bridge and out to the road. The stranger used this opportunity to slip unnoticed into the city, across the bridge and into a crowd that had gathered to watch a waterfall surfing competition, oohing and aahing at their daring stunts and tricks. But the stranger didn’t pause to watch the show, instead, they turned a glittery Cyodrake eye northward, where the tips of blue sails stuck out among the clouds, and began to move that way, keeping the ship in sight whenever possible.

     It was difficult to make fast progress through the narrow, crowded streets. Everywhere, clusters of pets clogged the alleys. There were stalls selling Koi-shaped dumplings and pastries, custard-filled doughnut poppers, bean sprout pancakes with spicy sauce, Kimchee rice bowls, crunchy Hegelob corn crisps, and other Shenkuu foods, each with long lines of patrons blocking the path. There were sword skill demonstrations outside Wonderous Weaponry, petpet puppet shows springing out of old converted carts, and flocks of elderly pets dressed in traditional Shenkuu clothes passing out bags of fresh oranges.

     The stranger moved slowly, trying to choose the least-crowded alleyways to pass through. They fidgeted with the large Cyodrake mask, which almost slipped off with every jostle of the crowd. Then, rounding a corner, they crashed straight into an oncoming cart. Suddenly, the air was filled with small high-pitched squeals as a drove of Snorkles dressed in Firecracker costumes rained down on the stranger and bounced into the street.

     “Oh gosh, I thought this street was empty. Pardon me. Please help me collect my Snorkles!”

     And with a graceful motion, the Ixi leapt to her feet and righted the upturned cart, hastily pushing a bunch of barrels back into the cart and grabbing the tail of a squealing Snorkle almost simultaneously.

     The stranger’s cloak had fallen open in the crash, and they hastily pulled it back, but not before the Ixi noticed the stranger’s long blond hair had tumbled out of her hood, and that she was wearing a blue dress under her cloak. But the Ixi kept silent. She could see the pains the stranger had taken to hide her identity and couldn’t afford a confrontation. She continued grabbing Snorkles.

     The stranger, unaware of the Ixi’s sly attention, gathered a couple of squirming Snorkles and dropped them into the Ixi’s cart hurriedly, but then pausing slightly when she saw all the barrels under the wriggling patch of pink.

     She looked at the Ixi, her expression hidden by the gaudy mask. In a low voice, she rumbled, “Sorry about the mess. I’ve got to be somewhere. Happy new year.”

     The Ixi had been in a hurry but took a few moments to watch the stranger’s receding form, taking note of her smooth stride, and the strange, large hunch that stuck out from the backside of her cloak. Chewing her lip, she turned and pushed her heavy load of crying Snorkles deftly across the cobbled streets, her Ixi hooves barely making a sound.

     *****

     It was twilight, just hours before the opening ceremony and banquet, and Kimi was in the Garden of Tranquility gathering the petals of Red Walking Flowers (a difficult task at the best of times, as they tended to change position with great frequency) to make a beautiful red flower crown to match her firecracker red banquet ballgown when all of a sudden, she went quite, quite mad.

     For a start, she couldn’t remember her own name. Which was less of a problem than the fact her hands seemed like they belonged to someone else. Had she always had red, clawed hands? And … wings? And … where was her tail?

     The air around her grew … sharp, as if it had crystallized around her. She began to smell smells that she had never smelled before. No ... that wasn’t it. The scents had been there, her little Vandagyre beak had known them, but she hadn’t noticed them before. Now, she inhaled the air like reading words on a page and could call each scent by name. The heavy sweetness of the cherry blossoms in the courtyard, the humid, earthen cloy of mossy rocks at the pond’s edge, the vibrant floral bursts of emerging orchid buds, the damp citrus of the bamboo forest that walled in the garden, and something else, something that didn’t belong in the garden, a metallic smell that stung her eyes. Was it really there? Or was it just the memory of it?

     And the sounds. Not just the rush of the little fountain, the sploosh of pond creatures, or the whish of wind through foliage, but the distant clamour of waterfalls, the murmurs of conversations happening in other, farther parts of the garden, and everywhere, everywhere, the aching creak of growth! Leaves twisting to the light, roots rummaging for deeper footholds, twigs pushing out, out and then up, up of stalks and weeds and craggy limbs. And CRUNCH. She winced at the clunky flop of satin slippers on the grass. A Cybunny was approaching from the northern gate, she could tell from the hoppity rhythm of the footfalls … somehow. And then, she (whoever she was?) reacted.

     Friend or foe? She suddenly didn’t want to be found. She leapt high and scampered up the damp rocks to the base of a rather large willow tree bent over the water. And, with deft manoeuvres, swung her way up high into its branches, peering to see what the Cybunny would do.

     “Petals! Petals? Father says it’s time to prepare for the arrival of the dinner guests. He wants you to be there to greet them, and for the opening tea ceremony. Isn’t that exciting?”

     An elegantly dressed Cybunny carrying a dainty parasol appeared in view. She seemed stately, despite panting a little.

     “Oh, I really wish Terrana was here. She is much better at chasing you about, and she never cares if she gets her dress dirty. Are you flying about again? Are you playing a game with me? I don’t think we have time for that, and besides, I’m the crown princess, I can’t be late, and you shouldn’t be either.”

     Well, this Cybunny didn’t seem dangerous, and she was naively chatty. She would announce herself. Perhaps she could be of some service. So she called out, “Good evening, madame.”

     The Cybunny looked up with a frown. “Ah. So you are playing games. I thought as much. And what, precisely, are you doing up there?”

     Hmm. Clearly, they had met before. Memory loss. A symptom of certain toxins. Perhaps she had taken a dosed tea. But from who? What a perfectly perplexing puzzle. But answers never come all at once.

     “In truth, I can’t recall,” she answered warily.

     “Now is not a good time for games, Petals. As your older sister, I demand that you get out of that tree this instant.”

     From the top of the tree, she could see over the garden wall. She was in a large city in the mountains. The mountains seemed familiar, but it was bigger than any city she knew. Below, lanterns were twinkling into being, and started bobbing through the streets. She looked up to the cloudy sky. Twilight was fading. The moon was shifting into its darkest position.

     Suddenly, Kimi had the feeling like she was waking from a deep sleep, but when she opened her eyes, she realized she wasn’t in bed. She moved, and fell into a thick, twisted branch with sharp needles. “Oh my, what is happening here today?” she wondered to herself, holding onto the branch she had fallen on. “Is this a dream? If it is, it’s not a very pleasant one.”

     She looked down and saw a figure at the bottom of the tree. “Hello!” she cried. “Who’s down there?”

     “You know who it is. Honestly Petals what are you playing at? Get down out of that tree or I will go to the banquet without you.”

     Gosh, her sister sounded very cross. She thought she might have been sleep-flying, like when she was very young. But she hadn’t done that in years, and she didn’t remember taking a nap that afternoon. Actually, she didn’t remember going to sleep at all.

     But she did need to get out of the tree, she supposed. If only for some tea and supper. So she spread her wings, leapt off the branch into the sky, and — fell.

     “Owwwwff!” She knocked her head on the trunk on the way down, her feet and feathers entangled in the tree’s whiplike branches. Panicked, she dug her claws into the trunk of the tree and managed to slow her last tumble onto the ground, landing at her sister’s feet.

     “Oh Petals, are you okay? You’ve ruined your beautiful dress. Why didn’t you just fly down?”

     The shocked Vandagyre replied, “Oh dear. I think I’ve forgotten how.”

      To be continued…