Fire Dancer

By Hisui

"How far would you go for a friend?"

Asakura Azusa never thought she'd ever need to answer that, until the day a woman named Genevieve kidnapped the only friend she had. Now, almost a year later, she begins a journey into the depths of the Underworld - a place literally sitting underneath our reality - to find her. Along the way, she may discover more about herself and what she is capable of than she thought possible and maybe see things no human has ever witnessed before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781304828095

Book preview

Fire Dancer

FIRE DANCER

HISUI

Copyright © 2014 Hisui

Cover image courtesy of fotographic1980/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-304-82809-5

DEDICATION

To my friends on the Internet, without him this would not have been possible. You know who you are, guys.

CHAPTER I

The name on the plaque said Miyu's Sorcerous Emporium.

The shop wasn't exactly what one would describe as noticeable from the outside. It was a little traditionally-designed shop in between two modern shopping buildings in Akihabara, with nothing about it that you'd really think would stand out apart from that – and let's face it, more than one shop has tried to look anachronistic in hyper-modern Tokyo as a marketing stunt. It gets old after a while.  I suppose the name should have been some manner of dead giveaway, but I live in Tokyo, where strange English names are practically required reading. You'd never actually expect one to be named accurately without knowing that was the case beforehand if you knew anything about the language.

As you can probably imagine, I spent a long, long time slapping myself in the face. I'd spent the better part of a year trying to find information on the mystical and the unknown, passing by that exact shop on a daily basis. I could have skipped running errands for my cousin Aki the whole time and just walked in! Then again, I'd never have actually known to walk in if I hadn't traded almost a year of running errands for her in exchange for the knowledge that the shop even existed, let alone what I'd find inside.

The first thing I realized was that the patterns on the doors were not conventional. Most places of the sort, along with private residences in the same style, used blank ones, with a distinct lack of ornamentation to serve as the ornamentation – blessed sleek minimalism! No, instead I find that there are patterns there, but not of the natural scenes or family crests you'd expect. No, Miyu's Sorcerous Emporium had gears and machinery and pipes and industrial imagery on the paper. It was like looking at some vast nondescript factory that you could tell made something, but you couldn't see enough of the whole thing to tell what, exactly, was being made.

And I swear – I swear – I heard them move and click as I went inside.

Smoke assaulted my senses as soon as I stepped inside, like someone had done a lot of fancy smoking in there. The kind of smoke you can only get when you've got someone exotically, impossibly beautiful smoking out of a fancy pipe and it might not have been mixed with something I felt that I didn't want to know about at all. It all came blowing out like some great wind pushed them out of the interior and into my face, which in retrospect might have actually been the case. It took a few minutes before I finally caught a glimpse of the one behind all the smoke.

For some reason, the first thing I noticed was the wall behind her. It was much like the doors, down to the same strange industrial designs rather than nature scenes I expected. Fascinating, I remember thinking, but I wasn't there to discuss artistic deviations from age-old traditions. I approached to get a better look at the woman sitting on a dais in the most elaborate and most dull kimono I'd ever laid eyes on.

It was perfect white silk, unimaginably high-quality, but ruined by the dull gray pattern of machinery, cogs, gears, and industrial implements. She sat there, wearing that, and with every slow and deliberate gesture, I could see the cogs and gears moving on the silk. An optical effect or a delusion caused by the smoke earlier, but it all seemed so real at the time. I don't know why, but I felt certain that they were moving and that was not only the explanation for it, but the only reasonable one.

She was quite lovely. Fair-skinned, with small lips in tasteful red, little blue eyes you keep being told you should fall for, and just enough of an air of allure about her that kept you from looking away. She had a flower pinned in her hair, but I can't even begin to tell you what it was. It certainly didn't look like anything I'd seen before.

The gears and cogs and machinery on the kimono moved but blissfully made no sound as she turned her attention from the saucer of sake in her left hand to my presence in her shop.

I should point out now that, for something calling itself an 'emporium' on the plaque above the door, the place looked rather empty. There didn't seem to be anything in the shop other than the mats, the dais, some clay jars of sake, and myself and the woman I assumed was the proprietor. For a place that claimed it was 'sorcerous' it didn't feel all that magical either. Well, unless you count the turning gears on the paper and kimono patterns, of course. There were no sources of light inside but the room was bright, but I didn't notice that until later, mid-conversation. I had begun to suspect Aki had misinformed me, which was unlike her.

I assure you, your cousin did not misinform you. Those were the exact first words to come out of the woman's mouth while she motioned for me to take a seat on one of the cushions. This place is indeed where she believes you will find what you seek, but only at a cost. I trust she has provided an explanation of the rules?

Sorcery isn't something for nothing. It requires an exchange of equal value to what you're asking for, I said, quoting Aki's warning exactly. She'd made no effort to make it sound ominous, but something about my voice certainly made it sound like some dire warning. When you know what I'm going to ask for, you'll name the price you require.

She nodded. So far, so good, right? Aki had always been interested in the esoteric and the strange, so her information on how this Miyu person carried things out was something I could count on to be mostly reliable. Then again, it wasn't as if she hadn't been given false information before.

Then a realization hit me, perhaps a second later that it would have had my mind not been elsewhere. How do you-

Know your name? She smiled and leaned back a little. Your cousin called ahead, though I only acquired the barest of details. It is a safe assumption to know who you are, Asakura Azusa of the Blood of the Old Ways, because my little shop opened its doors for you.

I clenched my fists. She knew who I was, knew my name. Had Aki called ahead or was she reading my mind? Or did she, in some way, work for the ones I'm looking for? Do you know what I'm here for, then?

She scoffed at the idea, as if I'd offended her. I don't read minds. So no, I have no clue what you will ask, but I am aware that whatever it is, it will be costly. She paused to sip her sake before she spoke again: I am Miyu the White, Sorceress. No, I have never been known as 'the Gray' in my existence, nor do I have a gigantic tower at my disposal.

I had no idea what she meant by that comment, though I chose not to ask. I'd delayed my goal long enough in the simple act of finding out about the shop in the first place. Aki-san told me you were the one I needed to talk to, that you could open a portal for me...into where Genevieve is.

There are many women named that in the world. You'll need to specify.

That was true, but I suspected she knew exactly who I had in mind and she just wanted – or needed, perhaps – to learn what I knew. I know only what little I've learned, I admitted and silently hoped it was enough. She is Genevieve the Red, of the Fireborn Pits, one of the seven Lords of the Underworld. That is all I know right now.

She raised a questioning eyebrow. I must dissuade you from this action, Asakura-san. You are far too lovely a young thing to lose to her wrath.

There is something I want to do once I find her.

Is that so? she asked. Miyu sounded tense, perhaps even nervous. However, even stronger in her tone was curiosity. And what do you intend to do once you've encountered her, then?

I closed my eyes and kept pleasant and friendly as I answered, "I would have words with her."

My mind told me to keep as pleasant as possible while she moved a little closer, as if trying to get a better look. There was still a bit of lingering smoke from earlier, which perhaps obscured her view of me. It seemed thicker where she was than where I was, despite the small gap.

I saw my reflection in her eyes. The hair I dyed blue and kept short since the incident – feminine, but short – and the little brown eyes everyone told me were so warm, so inviting. I'd always taken good care of my skin because a nice-looking girl had to rely on her ability to punch people senseless less often in most places, but my reflection looked much fairer and smoother than I thought I was. I was a beautiful girl reflected in those eyes, with none of the little details that I kept noticing that took away from the look. Were my breasts really that big in my school uniform, though? And was the skirt always that short? No wonder every teacher in school called me a distraction! For a moment, I was distracted by my own reflection! I blushed hard when I realized it and looked away.

Then, in what I was sure was some form of gross insult to her, I began to stare at her. She was quite attractive by my standards, with a certain languid grace to her small movements that I felt compelled to pay attention to. I thought she was quite lovely and instinct told me that underneath the kimono she wore was a very attractive woman, but I suppose the parts her clothing didn't hide hinted at that too. There was a sense of classical beauty about her, that she could command the attention of men and impressionable young women. She certainly reminded me I was young and, despite everything, still more impressionable than I liked.

She leaned closer, much closer. Her eyes were fixed on mine as she kept silent for very long and I could only begin to guess what thoughts had made their way through her mind. Had she contemplated whether or not I had anything that was worth taking, in her mind? Was something else on her mind as she stared into my eyes like she'd seen something fascinating in them other than her own reflection? I would have asked, but that seemed terribly rude to do, so I kept silent and left her to her thoughts.

Do you know what it would take to open a path to the Underworld?

No, but you do. I clenched my fists, but kept pleasant, calm. No point in alienating a potential ally or neutral. "And I'm willing to pay whatever it costs. I don't know if my sister's personal rules apply, but if its money you need, I'll try to get the amount. I just need to get there now."

Answer a few questions for me, to help me judge, she said as she pulled away and I released a breath I didn't know was holding in. First, I imagine that your cousin didn't volunteer this information freely. What did it cost you, Little Dragon?

She gestured to the tape around my fists, which I put on before my practice sessions. I had to remind myself she didn't read minds. She asked me to run errands for her. Finding rare books, picking them up after she made deals, buying her stuff she's too busy to get herself. Some of it was strange, but most of it was mundane.

Miyu nodded. And how long did she make you do this?

Eleven months and eleven days, exactly.

She nodded. A good number for our purposes, she said as she stood up, without even touching the floor with her hands. I know who it is you seek now, but not why. I would know before I consider what price to ask.

I hesitated. I can't even guess why I did, because I knew what I was doing was the right thing, but I hesitated. Perhaps I just didn't want her knowing so much about my motivations, in case I couldn't trust her? I wasn't sure of anything other than my purpose. For the first time since I embarked on it, I felt the realization that I had no true idea what it would require.

I'm waiting for that answer, Little Dragon, she demanded.

My mind ran through the whole thing again. We were walking home and she planned to finally get around to teaching me how to cook something other than instant ramen. She was my friend and we laughed and we cried and we smiled. She was my only friend in school. Then Genevieve appeared, as if out of nowhere, and took her from me. I fought with every trick I knew and even tried a few overly flashy moves that really only work as training exercises in desperation, but I got tossed around like I was an amateur fighting Li Shuwen at the top of his game. I remembered the look on my friend's face, how she pleaded with me as Genevieve took her away. That was eleven months and twelve days ago. I hadn't stopped thinking about it since then, as if it was some mantra that would keep the madness and despair from my mind.

I am going there for a friend, I answered at last. I swore an oath. She was my friend. I needed no other reasons. She was taken by Genevieve for reasons neither of us understood, but she stopped to taunt me. She is my friend, and I won't leave her there to whatever Genevieve intends.

One soul? she asked, sounding confused as she opened a screen and motioned for me to follow her into the dark path behind it. She made my objective sound ridiculous. You would risk everything to bring yourself to the Underworld – a place where no human belongs, live or dead – to rescue but one human? Who could be so important to you?

She is a friend. I can't abandon her, I insisted. Did she think that was not cause enough?

You risk much in journeying to the Underworld and even more to face Genevieve, she said as we turned a corner. Her voice was dark and ominous.

If I can do something to help out a friend without hurting anyone else, then why shouldn't I?

She owes you no great debts nor holds anything over you other than your friendship? she asked, though she sounded more surprised and perplexed than before. Yet this friend commands such loyalty and devotion that you would risk the very integrity of your part in the overall design of the world to rescue her?

Yes.

You may find yourself paying a far greater price than mine in the end, she said, again slipping into the tone of someone giving a warning.

I would go to Hell and back if I had to. Of that, there was never any question. What kind of friend would I be if I did anything less?

She smiled. I could see her smile, even in the pitch black of the tunnel. How I managed that, I don't know. Perhaps that might happen yet. For now, however, I will name my terms.

I don't have much of value, but I'm a hard worker and I make a point of paying back everything I owe.

"Perhaps you do, but my terms are a little different. Aki-san never told you that the rules only stipulate the exchange must be of equal value, she said. I heard the sound of her steps stop and I almost bumped into her as she turned around so we would come face to face. It is I who determines the final value of what I will take in exchange for what you ask. I alone choose what my efforts are worth."

That was it, then. Whatever she demanded I sacrifice, I would have given up then. What else was there to do? Name your price.

Kisses, she said calmly. To be precise, I want your first three.

That's an unusual price, I thought.

She stopped and turned to face me, eyes filled with expectation.

I...it's not that...that's a very strange price. I paused before I added the next question that came to mind. How do you know-

A wild guess based on the tiniest sliver of hope, perhaps? I think I've seen your type before. It happens every so often, she said, her words followed up by a mirthful laugh. A pretty girl like you probably has boys watching your every smile, drowning in every sway of your hips and not one of them even dares approach you, because you're too beautiful to come close to. Someone must have claim on you already, they think.

I blushed as I looked down at my feet. She couldn't have been that right about what was going on, could she? And did she call me pretty? Did she actually call me beautiful? I was never very good at handling compliments. It is one thing to hear yourself say it and another to have someone else confirm what's in your head, isn't it? Dazed as I was that there was this lovely woman calling me beautiful, I nodded my consent. It wasn't as if I'd have rejected the offer from someone that looked like her or that there was a girl in mind I'd rather have kissed instead.

She didn't waste any time and placed her lips on mine faster than I could blink. Her lips were soft and she didn't press or pressure. I was drawn in and started kissing her back as her arms wrapped around my waist. She was gentler than I thought she'd be, though I could almost taste her eagerness as it continued. Just as I suspect we were both getting very comfortable with each other, she pulled away.

I caught my breath and was about to say something when she took my second kiss with just as much vigor and surprise as the first. She pressed closer then and her skin felt warmer, but she did not lack the gentleness or the softness of the first time. I was, by that point, entirely certain that my attempt to kiss back was wise, as I had no experience. Besides, it wasn't as if the terms of the agreement required that I kiss back. It just felt rude not to, as if it was an insult to just let her take charge.

A long, lingering silence came between the two of us as we made our way through the path. It was dark and should have made it hard to see anything or anyone, but I could see her and her movements clearly. It was as if she radiated light, but it was confined only to her form and a small area around it. She was a beacon in the dark, but I felt I followed that beacon to certain doom more than once during our walk. I pondered why she had not taken the final part of her price yet, but she seemed content with two.

You only took two, I said to break the silence. Awkward and perhaps sounded a little eager, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

I'll collect the final part of my fee when the final service is due, Little Dragon, and not a moment sooner.

Oh. I may have said that sounding somewhat disappointed. Wait, what do you mean by final? I thought all I was getting was the portal?

Little Dragon, have you been to the Underworld? Have you seen it, perhaps, through a glimpse in a dream? Or even a map of some sort?

To my shame, I admit I had not considered those before that exact moment, nor did anyone else aware of my intentions do so. Well, no...

Then you will need a guide. She stopped and looked at me as if I was a child, a sharp contrast to how she looked at me earlier. You did not think this through, did you? I suppose that does tend to be a human reaction.

I sighed, admitting defeat. If my first kiss was for you showing me how to get there and the second was for a guide, what's the third for?

When the time comes, you'll know.

Are all of you magic practitioners so fond of trying to be cryptic?

First off, we practice Sorcery, not magic. Magic is what you call those parlor tricks you do on the street or on stage, she said indignantly, as if I'd insulted her in some manner. Sorcery is calling upon the unquantifiable energies of the Structure to achieve effects that the laws of nature do not normally allow. I am a Sorceress and no, not all of us do. Perhaps the others might. I haven't met too many.

Aki-san certainly seemed to enjoy it.

That's more her personality than a requirement of what we do. I, on the other hand, have very little idea when I am indulging such a thing. After a pause, she then added: And call me Miyu-san. I imagine you and I will have a long road ahead of us, and it would be best if we became more familiar with each other.

Of course... I stammered a little, as if unsure. It wasn't exactly common practice for me to just use a stranger's first name out of nowhere. Still, she had given me permission and it'd have been rude not to. Miyu-san.

There. Not so hard, was it?

No, not really. Certainly much easier than what I set out to do, I thought to myself. I clenched my fists and tried to steel my nerves again. This Sorcery thing you do...Aki-san mentioned it isn't the only weird thing out there. If you don't call it magic, then what do you call it?

Sorcery, Psionics, and Artifice, she answered. Though I note only two of those actually work where you intend to go, so that's a good thing.

I should feel overwhelmed, shouldn't I? I'm just a girl. Barely seventeen. All I have are my bare hands and a purpose. I should be terrified.

Yet you're not. Nervous, perhaps, but not terrified. Why?

I smiled. I can't let her down.

She stopped all of a sudden and I didn't, which meant I collided with her briefly. I've almost earned the first part of my fee, which means it is time I start earning the second I suppose, she said. Tell me, this friend...does she have a name?

Nakano Kanako-san.

For a brief moment, she looked like she actually recognized the name. However, it was gone almost as soon as I noticed. You believe you will find her still well, still alive? she asked. Genevieve is many things, but she is far from patient. Your friend might no longer be...among us.

She is, I answered, despite the likelihood of what she said. I know so.

Then perhaps there is hope for things yet, she said under her breath, almost low and quiet enough for me not to catch it.

I don't think she meant for me to hear those words. Of course, after years of having to defend myself blindfolded as my grandmother attacked me with only a needle falling on tatami mats as warning, I had practice at hearing little things like that if I concentrated hard enough. As a kid, it took me a while to realize not everyone had my training regimen.

Like nothing happened, she put a smile back on her face and she opened a sliding door in the darkness and stepped through it. We've arrived.

I didn't understand what she meant. The place she led me to looked and felt exactly like the interior of her shop. There was the same strange presence of light despite having no visible sources of it. There was the same increasingly distasteful use of industrial machinery and mechanical parts and dull colors instead of nature scenes. There was that hint of the strange smoke that slipped out when I first opened the door. The saucer of sake she took a sip from, along with the clay jug she filled it with, were still there. The plush cushion I sat on while we talked hadn't moved at all, which was perfectly normal yet I kept having the feeling it should have moved. The only things that seemed different were the fact that the hint of smoke now bore the scent of lavender and I became undeniably, absolutely sure the cogs and gears were indeed moving.

If she had taken me to the Underworld, it certainly didn't meet any of my expectations of how it would happen. I expected some manner of arcane ritual, with glyphs and spells and formations and pondering the right time and place and numerology, because aren't all those things supposed to matter when it comes to something like Sorcery? Aren't the incantations and the ritual markings and the precise planning of the geomantic lines of power converging in just the right manner just as much a part of it as believing that the impossible can be made possible? Where were all the trappings of power that came with that kind of bending of the rules of reality? All we did was walk a dark corridor – hardly unnatural. Then again, maybe I've just watched far too much anime in my lifetime.

She closed the door behind us and picked up the saucer of sake she left there like we'd never left. Miyu finished it all in one go before she motioned that she and I should sit, with her once again on the dais. I was confused and perhaps a bit angry, but she seemed so confident, so assured that she'd held up at least part of the bargain. I decided not to clench my fists and beat her senseless for her trickery until she at least had an opportunity to tell me what was going on. Rather than say anything, she instead motioned that I should stand up just before I got comfortable, then pointed towards the door.

I gave her a look of confusion, though I tried my best not to let my frustration become obvious. I felt as if I'd been led on, that Aki's information was inaccurate somehow. I gave up my first kiss for a gate to the Underworld! Granted, I supposed it was still somewhat worth the loss since it was to someone as beautiful as her, but it was the principle of the thing! I had, in some small way, hoped it'd be someone I actually liked romantically that took it first, not just someone I felt attracted to. Her response was to simply look insistent.

With a sigh, I obliged and opened the door and froze as I saw what was outside. My mind fully expected to see Tokyo and just walk away from the waste of time and try to find another way into the Underworld. It was not in any way prepared for what came next.

Just one glance at the strange colors of the sky that seemed like a drugged-out exaggeration of the Aurora Borealis told me I was not in Tokyo. Not that I believed that Tokyo could manage to replicate the feat in its own unique way, but because the expense would likely have made the politicians go nuts, especially in an election year. Then, as my mind began to let the notion of a perfectly strange sky sink in, I turned back to Miyu.

She stood there, smiling as if she knew exactly what was on my mind. It is quite a sight, isn't it?

What is this place?

Welcome to the Underworld, Little Dragon.

This is it, then?

The debris of things never forgotten, because they never were. The dashed hopes of thousands of souls that cannot be lost because they were never there to begin with, she said as she gestured away from the skyline and towards the great stone steps that led down. This is the Underworld.

I nodded and looked ahead, to the alien horizon. My friend had waited long enough. Where do I find Genevieve?

* * *

I felt like a bad tourist that forgot her camera in the hotel. There was so much to see, so much to remember, so many details to capture that would have slipped my mind if I didn't make an effort to remember them all. Even with my focus on my mission, it was hard not to be distracted by everything around me as Miyu and I left her shop and began to walk down the great stone steps like goddesses coming down from Heaven.

The swirling storm of colors and lights above, I rapidly realized, was not a fixture in the sky the way stars are at night. As I stepped outside and fixed my gaze on the sky properly, I found that some of the ways the colors blended and bled into each other was reminiscent of cloud formations. They also weren't as transparent as an aurora would be and let people actually see the sky, but instead they appeared to be the sky proper in the Underworld. I saw nothing there that could be taken as their equivalent of a sun, moon, or the stars. All of them seemed to have a faint trail, as if they moved and came to sudden stops when examined. My eyes followed them to what looked like mountains of scrap and machinery off in the distance. I turned away from the thing. It felt unsettling to look at.

As Miyu and I walked down the steps, I realized the air was dry, like there was precious little moisture in the atmosphere. There wasn't any wind and nothing disturbed the barren, blasted landscape on either side of the stone steps. The ground was cracked, parched by a drought that my instincts felt was not natural, not in any way that I would have understood. The heat didn't seem bad enough to have caused the sense of dryness and the cracked soil, but it wasn't comfortable either. I was used to chillier winds and lower temperatures; though I took comfort in the fact that it wasn't humid and I was in the shorter summer uniform.

Despite the apparent lack of life that I saw, the information that came to my ears suggested otherwise. I heard the sounds of gigantic gears turning and of people shouting. When I stopped to focus, I picked up on what was like the faint sounds of life and busy streets, of people moving and things being kept occupied. I heard my footsteps on the stone along with Miyu's as they blended in with a breeze passing through the crags and rocks, even if I didn't feel it at all. There were occasional sounds of something else in the area that seemed like those wild animals and small predators might have made, but I couldn't place them. For a moment, that bothered my mind, but then I realized that the creatures I heard were likely native to the Underworld and not something that a human would have recognized. Miyu, for her part, seemed rather calm and I theorized that such sounds were commonplace for her. The possibility that she couldn't actually hear them I chose not to dwell on.

What is that place on the horizon? I asked to distract myself from how strange everything was.

You mean the thing that looks like a strange, misshapen lump of cogs and gears and mechanical parts of strange and unknowable purpose?

I wouldn't have worded it quite like that. I shrugged, though I almost admitted out loud that I likely would have worded a description similarly. On my second look, it seemed to develop and odd mix of ugliness and functional aesthetics. But yes, that.

The Engines of Creation, she answered. Her tone was calm and neutral, but something about the words themselves felt ominous, foreboding. From the great machines all creation is formed, from the lowliest microbe to the loftiest of intangible concepts. Nothing in your world exists until the Engines have chosen to implement it.

Are they gods? Built by them, perhaps?

No, but they've woven divine beings into the worlds they've built in the past. It hasn't always worked out. She turned to me with a strange look that I took as a sign that these were not questions that should be asked. Perhaps the locals didn't like it when outsiders asked about their religious figures. The Underworld surrounds the Engines, made from the debris and discarded pieces of your world above us.

I looked up again. That's not the sky?

It is your world, which we here call a 'Structure.' There have been others like it before and there will be those like it after your worlds is gone, she explained. Since it is above us, we called our realm the Underworld.

And the tunnel we walked through connects your shop to this part of the Underworld?

Yes. I discovered it some time ago, though setting up the shop on your world took longer, she said as we kept walking. The steps down seemed like there was no end to them. Your world was strange to me when I first arrived. It didn't help that I was confined to a short distance away from what would become the Emporium.

So you're not human?

Elf, she answered as she pulled back a few strands and revealed a pointy right ear. Well, we call ourselves that, but I don't think we quite fit the concept of Elves in your Structure.

Is everyone in the Underworld an Elf, then?

We all call ourselves Elves, except for a rare few that refuse to be anything but what they were designed to be, she explained as we finally got to the base of the steps. This is a topic for another time, Little Dragon. First, as your guide, I must advise you – we are in the Barrens of Dread, one of the seven Districts of the Underworld. Your quarry makes her home in the Fireborn Pits. We'll need to cross borders.

I'm guessing it isn't paperwork I'll need, I comment as a scantily-clad Elf girl winked at me after a suggestive smile. She was slender and attractive, with obvious sex appeal I was envious of. Did she just proposition me?

She did. I'm not surprised. She frowned in the lady's general direction. I heard her hiss before the lady looked indignant and walked away. Miyu turned her attention back to me as if nothing was wrong and she was all smiles after that. To cross the border of one District to another you'd need the kind of authority you can only get by ruling a District.

So we'd need to see whoever's in charge? I asked. Then, remembering more than one scenario like this where the person asking ended up having to bring down the local regime, I added to my question. I'm going to end up having to fight my way in, won't I?

There are good odds of that happening, yes. Abigail Bane is a rather insular Lord, with very little in the way of intent to socialize. She laughed at me, though it wasn't a particularly malicious one. Oh, don't look like that. You are of the Blood of the Old Ways. You will prevail.

What does that even mean? The question on everyone's minds, I thought, once you get past the ones involving the awful quality of events so far.

It means your bloodline is old and ancient, with history behind it I suspect you don't even know, she said as she motioned for me to follow her into what looked like a marketplace. I have a nose for these things.

The marketplace was strange, like the sort of thing right out of fantasy fiction. Hawkers and old salespeople announced their wares and prices, offering bargains that weren't really bargains. There were stalls that sold foodstuffs that I could recognize – some pork sirloin on a stick, the smell of tender steak, and even some quick-fried noodles. A few of them included things like weapons, though most of them were small and there wasn't anything impractically big or impressive at first glance. Most of them were little things like brass knuckles or folding knives; the sorts of weapons you'd find for cheap in a market in Southeast Asia.

A bit more looking around showed me there were other things available. There were stalls that had trinkets like jewelry or possibly valuable trinkets, alongside ones that sold cloaks and clothing. Everything seemed to be made of silk, though everything also seemed to have something crawling just under the surface and constantly disturbing the surface. It was odd and probably unsanitary, but nobody seemed to mind and I considered that it was a bad idea to force the Underworld to adhere to the standards of the Structure, as she called the world I came from. Everything smelled appropriate and the sounds were what I expected. The only thing that I found odd was all the pointy ears and the occasional glance I got from the Elves – all of them women, incidentally.

Speaking of which, all of them seemed to be attractive. It was as if I'd walked into some fantastic world where ugliness didn't exist – to be fair, at least part of that was absolutely true.

I then turned to make sure I still had Miyu within reach and, to my horror, I realized I'd lost sight of her. I stopped and turned around, panicked and unsure, but eventually, I gave up. I was distracted by what was going on and had lost sight of my guide – certainly not the most promising start to a rescue mission. Against my instincts, I decided to stay more or less where I was and wait. While I could have run around and tried to find her, that drew unnecessary attention and, in my mind, could have just made things worse. Instead, I found a place to sit and wait. It was a blind hope that she would eventually realize where I was by retracing her steps, but it stood a better chance than wandering around. It helped that my uniform made sure I looked astoundingly out of place among the Elves of the Underworld.

A part of me then wondered if it should have been called 'Alfheim' instead.

I believe some of them considered a renaming once, a female voice that sat down beside me said. Had I said that 'Alfheim' bit out loud? Though as you can probably guess, it didn't pull through.

I turned my attention to the source of the voice. She was dressed in leather attire underneath, with the knees, shins, elbows, and forearms protected by piecemeal armor. Her abdomen was protected by a breastplate that was actually practical, rather than accentuating her cleavage. The leather clung tight to her skin and looked very uncomfortable, but she didn't seem at all bothered by it. She sat down beside me and crossed her legs, with her pointed ears perked up and clearly visible because her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were red and glowed, which had the strange effect of looking like luminescent blood. She looked slightly tanned, with a strong brow and a look of cold stubbornness. She looked impressive in that 'come at me and try' way, but I found the sight of the blood-eyes compelled my attention more than anything else, not even the weapon that hung from her waist. There was something passionate and greedy about those eyes, like she hungered for greater things.

She didn't seem at all out of place, even though everyone else seemed to wear a revealing dress or loose-fitting robes. A couple of smaller ones that I assumed were children wore togas. In a sense, she seemed like the city guard on patrol or a knight that passed through the marketplace, while everyone else was a peasant or merchant. As she relaxed and scratched her chin, I noticed she wore gauntlets that ended in sharp points that could have been used as claws. My mind revised the imaginary vision and allowed the possibility that she wasn't a guard or knight, but instead was perhaps some manner of agent of an oppressive regime. Before I spoke anything out loud, I managed to catch the words and not blurt that out. The Underworld had its own standards and they didn't adhere to what I thought or felt was right.

You aren't from here, she said. Was my lack of pointy ears that obvious? You don't dress like you belong here. The Barrens of Dread is a harsh world. It is no place for the likes of you.

Are you suggesting I go back to where I came from? I asked. I tried hard to avoid sounding hostile. No point making enemies so soon. I would if I had the choice, but I don't. I'm here for a reason and I won't leave until my purpose is fulfilled.

The Lords do not take kindly to that sort of travel.

I don't plan on getting their attention if I can avoid it.

She shook her head, making a tsk sound. You have already caught their eye just by being here. Still, you have conviction. Perhaps that and the will of the Engines will see you through. Perhaps it will not. Who can say?

Who are you? I asked, thinking it was the polite thing to do. I almost bowed, but stopped because I realized it left my neck vulnerable to attack more than it already was. My name is Azusa.

She smiled. It was a cold smile, with no hint of falsehood but no warmth either. I'm just a guard. Nobody important.

With that, she cut the conversation off and walked away. The people around her seemed willing to part as she passed, as if afraid to cross her or whoever granted her authority. I sat there and refused to think about what she said. She and Miyu both made it clear there were a lot of risks involved, but I was there for Kana-chan. I owed her and she was my friend. There was no risk too great.

Since I had nothing else to do, my eyes drifted back towards the thing Miyu called the Engines of Creation. They were an eyesore in the sky, as far as I was concerned. The great machines seemed to stretch up like some mad god's tower, with parts that seemed to just stir up the colors. They looked to be perfectly still, like great dead factories long abandoned, their purpose forgotten or ignored. I wondered what could have made them, what sort of beings designed machinery like that. The way Miyu spoke of them made them sound as if they built even the concept of divinity itself. If those great machines built gods, then what could possibly have had the power to make those Engines?

Murmurs drove my attention away from the mechanical horizon. It didn't take much to notice the Elves started to notice my presence and started talking. There were glances turned in my general direction, which suggested I was the object of the market gossip. None of them approached and none of them looked to have hostile intent, though it wasn't hard to confirm there was a great deal of curiosity. If things had gone on much longer, I might have had to decide on how to handle the whole thing and try to draw their attention to something else. Or, had I indulged some of my own darker impulses, reacted violently and drawn more attention.

It was a strange experience to be so different, to stand out. It felt strange and I suddenly became far too aware that the school's skirt was shorter than was practical. I felt several eyes focused on only one thing, even though the marketplace had thankfully not ground to a halt out of sheer curiosity. The trouble was that some of the focus was in the form of staring. When someone stared, it meant that person judged whoever they focused on, and I'd been judged in that manner before and wasn't eager to relive the experience. I was the lone sheep amidst a pack of hungry wolves the first time, but never again.

As a saving grace, Miyu stepped in and saved me from whatever decision my mind might have decided upon if panic set in.

I got distracted, I admitted. My heart pounded in my ears and I realized she'd arrived just in time. This place is so alien, but so familiar at the same time.

I'll take your word for it. Then, she gestured with a closed fan and pointed at my attire. You stand out. Your short hair already makes your ears too visible, so your very human clothing doesn't need to make the situation even worse.

No. I need to find Kanako-san. I don't have time for a makeover.

You'll draw unwanted attention to yourself if you insist on dressing the way you do, she insisted, with a gesture to the Elves around us. The more you're noticed, the longer your friend will be waiting for rescue.

Did I stand out that badly?

We can't do anything about your looks, she began, with a look that made me feel she added something only in her mind, but we can do something about your attire. We can dress you like an Elf.

It'll cost me, won't it?

Consider it part of my function as a guide, Miyu said as she motioned that we should move. I wondered when she picked up the fan or if it had been in the sleeves of her kimono all along. I know where we can get you more suitable attire, Little Dragon. It'll even be in your colors.

My colors? I decided not to ask. There were already too many things I needed or wanted to ask.

As she moved to walk away, she ran headlong into a trio of Elves in armor. Black chest plates and gauntlets that looked poorly maintained, but no helmets or anything else. Their hair was long and dark brown and I noticed their eyes didn't have the luminescent blood effect of the woman I met earlier. Instead, they were comparatively more mundane neon blue. They weren't armed, but they looked unhappy. The one in the middle, the shortest of the three, had some sort of reddish liquid splashed on his face as a result of Miyu's carelessness. I didn't catch the exact words of what I assumed was an apology to them for the accident, but I caught their movements. One of them moved to backhand Miyu, but I pulled her away and he swatted nothing but the dry, barren air.

He looked surprised, but that didn't last long. About two heartbeats later, he tried to punch me. He telegraphed it a mile away with the way he winded his arm back. I dodged it and, just as I was trained to do, I caught his arm and used his forward momentum against him. A little pull, a little turn, and then I let him run right into someone's stall. In the movies, that would have been the end of it, but I didn't want to take the chance.

With quick thinking, I used the chance to grab a handful of some sort of dark brown powder from a nearby stall and throw it in the direction of the other two. The training crashed back into my mind and I did what I could