Kisaki’s window of opportunity was short. There was no time to dawdle or have second thoughts.
Shitoro might not have been as clever as he thought, but he wasn’t stupid by any means. He was also a stickler for detail and routine. It wouldn’t be long before he realized she had swiped the key from around his neck.
It had been a particularly dull session, focusing on the politics of various interdimensional species – comparing and contrasting them – but that had been perfect. At one point, Kisaki had pretended to nod off, something very believable considering the topic. When Shitoro had walked over to wake her, she’d toppled over, forcing him to catch her.
In the fumbling that ensued, she managed to grab the key unnoticed.
Even more fortuitous had been when he, in a snit at her inattentiveness, declared she should take a short break so as to compose herself – after which they would dive back in for several more hours. Pity for him, he would return to an empty lecture hall.
In order to have a chance at exploration, however, she needed to be decisive, which was precisely what she was having a difficult time with at the moment.
Despite yearning to know what lay past the doors leading to her mother’s audience chamber, she found herself hesitant. After all this time, she was holding the means to explore a place she’d only glimpsed. But it was what lay beyond that paused her steps – the rest of the palace she called home. To venture further was forbidden, almost unthinkable, not to mention certain to incite her mother’s wrath.
What would she find there? More servants, more finery? Perhaps someone else like her?
That was the thought that finally got her moving again.
It wasn’t so much meeting others as much as the thought of making a new friend. Sure, Shitoro could be considered that, but he was also her guardian, not to mention her school master. To meet someone new and just talk with them without minding her tongue; it was a concept she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But she realized she was willing to try.
The impasse broken, she unlocked the heavy bars standing in her way, pushed them to the side, and, with a deep breath, opened the door beyond.
She’d caught fleeting glimpses of her mother’s audience chamber before, barely enough to leave her with half-formed images for her mind to fill in. Now she was able to drink in what she saw to her heart’s content.
The multi-hued chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, the smooth stone of the walls – polished to an almost mirror-like sheen – and the thick red carpet on the floor. All of it was magnificent. Near the back stood the ebony throne from which her mother entertained visitors – or so she’d been told. She’d never actually seen it happen. So dark was the material from which it had been carved that it was as if a chair-shaped hole had been cut into the very air, leaving behind nothing but a void.
It was what hung in midair above the throne, though, that really caught her eye.
The weapon glimmered with a light seemingly all its own, tiny pinpricks of brilliance shining from a blade that seemed to be made of some type of smoky glass that – despite the richness of the rooms she lived in – she’d never seen before.
Remembering her limited time, she tore her gaze from the sword and shut the door behind her. She had no way of reengaging the complex locks from this side, but hopefully, the sight of it shut would afford her a few extra moments.
Kisaki knew she should be testing the key upon the door at the far end of the chamber, the one that led to areas unknown. Yet, instead of heading that way, she found herself turning back to the sword that hung above her mother’s throne.
She stood staring at it for several long seconds, almost mesmerized by the multiple lights glinting from the blade.
It was strange, hard to explain, but somehow it seemed as if the sword was calling to her. It made no sense. After all, she knew what it was, having seen depictions of many such weapons in her studies, albeit never one quite like this. Regardless, Kisaki had never actually handled anything like it. The sharpest thing she’d ever touched had been the quills with which she’d written out her endless lessons, having worn out many over the years.
That had to be it. The sword was something new, something she’d never experienced firsthand. That was why she found herself still staring at it, long after logic dictated she should continue with her exploration.
The pinpricks of light on the fragile-looking blade appeared to grow brighter as her eyes continued to focus on it, until it seemed as if they might be miniature stars somehow trapped in the strange glasslike material from which it was forged.
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That was silly, though. Even sillier was the concept of a glass sword. Such a thing would be useless in combat, a mere decoration – which was what it seemed to be.
Yet she couldn’t help the yearning to hold it.
Kisaki let out a deep sigh, her mind made up. She was already in trouble for her transgressions, that much she knew. What would one more matter? Besides, it’s not like Shitoro couldn’t just hang it up again once she’d been caught and sent back to her room.
That spurred her to action, and she crossed the room to her mother’s throne. The material of the chair was truly dark, seeming to drink in the light around it, and for one quick moment, Kisaki was certain that she’d fall into it.
But then her foot touched the seat and found it to be solid. Laughing at her own foolishness, she stood upon it and lifted herself up. The sword was still out of her reach, so she was forced to climb upon the heavy arm rests and then finally the back, balancing herself precariously as she reached for the weapon.
Despite it looking like nothing more than a fragile decoration, she strove to be careful. Something deep inside warned her to steer clear of the edge of the blade. It did appear sharp and glass, fragile or not, could slice skin just as easily as steel.
She stood on her tiptoes upon the back of the throne and reached up. Inch by inch she stretched, trying to reach the grip of the weapon, a brilliant white material – almost porcelain in appearance – in contrast to the blade itself.
Almost...
There! She grabbed hold and smiled triumphantly, right before a shock of energy jolted down her arm. It was as if she’d grabbed hold of something burning hot. For a moment, she was glued to her spot, unable to let go. Then, just as abruptly, she pulled back, freeing the weapon from the invisible bonds that held it aloft.
The movement caused her to lose her balance. She teetered atop the back of the chair for a moment, pinwheeling her arms before she overbalanced, losing her grip on the sword in the process.
Kisaki fell, landing upon her backside on the rich carpet in front of the throne.
She winced, both from the impact as well as the embarrassment of having fallen, then looked up. Her eyes widened as she beheld the sword, sticking out of the seat of her mother’s chair where it had landed point down, sinking itself deep into the ebony material.
Yet one more crime to add to her growing list of infractions this day.
Shitoro was going to be mad, but her mother would be furious.
Kisaki pulled herself to her feet and brushed herself off, despite the room being so immaculate that one would have thought dust was outlawed.
What’s done is done.
She’d gone too far to explain this as a simple accident. At the same time, she hadn’t gone far at all. If she were to be caught now, her punishment was likely to be harsh. And for what? All she’d managed to do was open one door, knock over a sword, and cut a gouge in her mother’s chair. If she was going to be given a tongue-lashing, followed by confinement in her room until the stars burned out, she might as well earn it.
Yes, she’d tarried long enough. It was time to see what lay beyond this place. That was, assuming her stolen key could unlock the door beyond. There was only one way to find out.
She turned toward it, took a single step, then hesitated again.
Grr! What is it with that stupid thing anyway?
Kisaki spun back and, without knowing why, she stepped up and grabbed the sword by the hilt again. That same fire she’d felt before seemed to radiate from the blade for a scant moment, but then it was gone, leaving the weapon cool to the touch. Odd. Perhaps she’d imagined it, a side effect of her nervous state of mind.
Yes, that had to be it.
She lifted the blade easily, sliding it out with little effort from the groove it had cut. Despite its size, it was ridiculously light in her hand. No more than a fragile decoration. It would be foolish to take it with her. One good bump would surely shatter it into a thousand pieces.
Yet, still she found herself mesmerized by the weapon. She glanced at the point, then again at the cut in her mother’s throne.
Hmm, she thought, maybe sharper than those silly quills after all, but a bit less inconspicuous, too.
Before she could turn back to the door, the sword began to glow in her hands. It was as if the miniature stars shining inside the blade had decided to go supernova, filling the weapon with a brilliant white light.
Kisaki cried out in surprise before closing her eyes against the glare of the weapon, almost blinding in its intensity.
What now?!
She expected to feel that burning sensation in her hands again, for surely the weapon would soon become too hot to hold, but it remained cool in her grasp.
Cool and ... smaller?
Though she couldn’t look directly at the sword, she could have sworn she felt the grip of the weapon shrinking, becoming much more familiar, more like a...
All at once, the glow abated. Kisaki blinked several times to clear the spots from her eyes. Then she blinked again at what she saw in her hands.
Impossible! The sword was gone and in its place was a simple quill, like those she wrote her lessons with.
Upon closer inspection, though, she realized it was different after all. It was far finer in appearance than those she normally used, and the white of the feather turned to a deep black near the top. She stared at it, realizing she could see tiny lights twinkling in that blackness.
Somehow the sword had turned into this. No, that wasn’t right. Somehow the weapon had read her thoughts and acted upon them.
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. It was a good thing she hadn’t been thinking of dragons or the six-legged war gryphons she’d been reading about a few days prior. That decided it for her and she began to giggle.
Still, strange or not, she had to admit carrying around a quill was liable to be slightly more convenient than a sword. She stuffed it into a pocket inside her kimono, then took a deep breath and turned to the outer doors.
If there were so many new and strange things to experience in her mother’s antechamber alone, then what did that bode for beyond?
Kisaki wasn’t sure, but it was time she found out.