Chapter VI – Oblivion’s Shadow

Mu plunged back into the water, diving into the sun-dappled shallows with joyous abandon. Around her, the rest of the pod was similarly frolicking, swirling about amongst the beams of light that penetrated the surface and shimmered down through the water column. Bright corals and a myriad of life in innumerable forms covered the seabed, small fish swirling about in a profusion colour. Mu swam through this scene of florescent activity, her heart light and her mind firmly planted in the present, glorious moment.

She sang to her pod-mates and they sang back. Ahead of her raced Milos and she watched as with a great effort of fins and tail muscles he propelled himself up and erupted through the surface. Inspired, Mu dived near to the seafloor, avoiding the sharp corals and picked up speed, before angling upwards and following Milos, exploding into the air and taking in the sparkling vista, myriad diamonds of light dancing on the sea’s surface under the perfect azure skies. She took in a deep breath of that fresh air and plunged back down, crying out with joy.

“What a day,” said Milos, swimming up next to her.

“So different to yesterday,” said Mu, circling about her friend.

In the distance she noticed the vast ruin of the Celestial Pagoda, wrapped in vines, and covered in crimson flowers, but she ignored the sight. No time for such troubling thoughts. Today was a day for frolicking in the shallows with the other youngsters of her pod. The storm had passed, the Black Emissary of the Stars was with the Orcalord, and as far as she was concerned, all was well. Pythia smiled upon them this day.

One member of the pod called out to the others, telling them that they had swum ahead, and that the tides and winds were such that today it was possible to ride a single wave the length of the North Gorge. As one the youngsters of the pod followed him, singing the Hymns of Pythia as they went.

The North Gorge was angled in a way that when the tides were right, the great swells of the deeper sea would rise and be channelled as breaking waves along its length, perfect for surfing. The leader demonstrated the principle, leaping into the wave the moment it crested before crashing down in a tumble of white foam, sweeping shoreward down the narrow, rocky defile. The others needed little more encouragement, jumping in pairs or trios into the waves as each new one rolled in. They found the perfect spot, where the rise in the seafloor caused the oceanic swells to teeter up and break.

Mu followed Milos and the two of them waited in eager anticipation as a mound of water advanced their way. From where she was, her head poking through the surface, her fins and tail moving gently to hold her in place, she could see the swaying verdant greenery atop the cliffs of the North Gorge. She could see the white sand of the small and distant beach at the far end of the Gorge. She could see the white birds swirling in that perfect cloudless sky, occasionally diving to snatch up a fish. And high above, though she couldn’t look directly, was brilliant Pythia, shining its gift of life and warmth and prophecy down on the blue world.

The wave came and Milos gave a sharp whistle to signal its arrival. Mu needed no more urging, propelling herself forward with all her might until she felt the powerful tug of the wave and knew she was one with it, rushing towards that distant sandy shore. Everything flew by at an unbelievable pace; her being was nothing but exhilaration. Finally, as she bowed out of the wave at the last possible moment before being slammed into the shore, she let out a cry delight, joined as she did so by Milos.

She felt a strange pull. Not as strong as the pull of the wave when she first leapt into it, but strong nonetheless. And this time it was pulling her away from shore. She guessed the water had to flow back out once it had rushed in, so she let herself be swept back towards the Gorge’s entrance, seeing Milos beside her. But the pull was getting stronger. Something felt wrong.

Having dived beneath the surface she now returned, pushing her head into the air. There was something very odd occurring at the horizon. It was as if it were the wrong shape, rising like a broad-topped mountain of water. And she now saw that behind that mountain was rising the moon, far larger than ever she’d seen it before. Far closer.

The pull of the water was getting stronger. She couldn’t swim against it. She was out of the Gorge now, but the water was continuing to rush towards that great blue mount on the horizon. Towards the dawning moon. It felt like falling, but in the wrong direction.

Her confusion turned to horror as an immense shape began to reveal itself from behind the moon. Even as it did, she witnessed as cracks snaked out across the surface of the moon. The great shape emerged more clearly into her view, no longer hidden by the moon. It was no celestial body. It was like an immense skull, completely black, but illuminated by patches of red or purple light emanating deep from within. Around it was a halo of seven snake-like heads and behind it a long, coiling tail. The mouth of each of the snake-like heads seemed to open to reveal a star-like furnace within.

She realised too that the thing had not been hiding behind the moon – it was simply much more distant. Now it was approaching at an alarming velocity, increasingly filling the sky, yet still farther than the moon. Its shadow was upon the water and the light of Pythia was occulted by its immense and terrible form. It was something too large to exist. And too terrible to exist, but by the design of a mind of infinite malevolence.

Pieces of the moon streaked across the sky and vanished from view, racing towards the beast. The mountain on the horizon had sunk back into the ocean, but now the ocean itself reached not for the decaying moon, but towards the beast.

Mu felt herself being lifted upwards. She turned towards Milos, and caught one last glance of his terrified eyes before he hurtled into the sky and was gone. Around her, her pod-mates were experiencing the same fates. Beneath her the North Gorge was no longer recognisable as the island cracked and ruptured. Chunks of coral and seafloor were now breaking away and launching into the heavens with the remains of the ocean that once covered them.

But the Beast was once more dwindling now. She understood, instinctively what would happen next and felt the weakening of its pull. She felt a moment where she was suspended in the air, droplets of water glistening about her, like tiny aqueous planets. Then the pull of the surface was reasserted, weakly at first, but then more strongly and she felt herself accelerating downwards once more, flailing her fins and tail to no avail. Below her, where once was the mouth of the North Gorge, now there was a gaping chasm, water cascading down into its inscrutable, shadowy depths.

As she plunged, the last thing she saw was the Beast, distant now, opening its colossal maw. And into that horrendous abyss plunged Pythia, its light forevermore extinguished from the Cosmos.

And as Mu tumbled into darkness, she remembered the Orcalord’s words: “The Oblivion’s shadow is long, but the Black Emissary brings us hope.”

Mu awoke in a sweat, pushing lank strands of her hair from her eyes with one hand, whilst she placed the other against her chest to still her rapidly beating heart. She took a moment to satisfy herself that she hadn’t fallen from great heights. She pushed back the luxurious sheets of her grandiose bed before sitting up and swivelling about so she put her feet into the silken slippers beside the bed. She walked across the opulent chamber and poured herself a glass of water from the jug that sat upon her desk.

She picked up her tablet and looked at the display: 0306. Sighing she gazed around the familiar surroundings.

It had all been a dream, then. Certainly, the weird dolphin stuff, but the bit with the talking cat and the travelling bard too, she guessed. She tried to expunge the disturbing legacy of the dream from her mind, gulping down more water. She would have to talk to Bright Eyes tomorrow. He would know what to do.

Wait, she paused a moment, Bright Eyes? His name is…

But the name wouldn’t come to her.

Slowly the bedroom door swung open. She turned to look that way, but no one was there.

“Hello?” she called out tentatively. “Tender Hand?”

The names… what were their names?

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There was no reply.

She walked slowly towards the open door. Still seeing no one she stepped through and peered about the room beyond. “Hello?” she called again.

This time she got an answer. “Princess Mukushen, do you remember me?”

The voice was soft, lilting – pretty, almost. It spoke in an impeccable accent, the cultivated manner of those raised in the Imperial Court.

Mu looked around, but still saw no one. The voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once.

“I’m still dreaming,” said Mu.

“I would contend that you’re as awake as ever you’ve been.”

Mu took another step and stumbled slightly. She saw that a thick vine was running along the floor, brightly coloured flowers sprouting from it in numerous places, interspersed with wicked thorns. She followed its length and saw that it ran up the wall and that there were more. Many more.

“No, this is a dream,” said Mu.

She walked toward the far door and pushed it open, emerging into the corridor beyond. Here everything was thick with vines and flowers, the walls and pillars cracking as they were strangled by the plants. And down the far end was something that Mu took to be some sort of enormous flower bud, taking up much of the wall. She walked toward it, picking her way carefully amongst the vines, lest one of the thorns pierce the delicate fabric of her slippers.

“What you saw before truly happened,” said the voice.

“Impossible,” said Mu, as she walked closer to the great flower bud.

“It is the past – the distant past of a distant world. I, however, am closer.”

“Who are you?”

She had almost reached the bud. Around it the vines were moving before her very eyes, moving like a seething pit of snakes.

“I am your near future. The future of your world,” said the voice, malice and delight blending in its soft and sing-song sound.

Mu stood before the bud.

She detected a smell. It was a sickly sweetness that made her stomach lurch. It was a smell like decay.

And the bud, slowly, began to open, great petals the length of her arm unfolding, long tendrils of a sticky, sap-like substance stretching out and drooping down as they unfurled. As more and more of the flower opened, Mu could see that there was something darker inside, long black strands. It took her a moment later to realise what she was seeing:

Human hair.

And as the flower completed its horrific unveiling, she saw the full scope of what it contained. It was Tender Hand – loyal and kind – crucified within the innards of the flower, cruel thorns piercing her limbs. And where her stomach had once been was a gaping cavity, dripping with white sap and bursting with a profusion of smaller flowers.

“I will see you soon, Princess Mukushen,” said the voice.

This time Mu awoke for real.

Mu took a few moments to satisfy herself that she was truly awake.

She took in her surroundings. At some point she had clearly slid off the bed and had fallen asleep in a sitting position on the floor, her back slumped against the side of the bed. She was wearing her clothes from the day before, which were at least reasonably comfortable, if not quite the silken pyjamas she was used to. Groggily, she rose to her feet.

Outside the night side of Shangxia was visible, the lights of its many vast cities gleaming in the dark, the oceans and forests and farmlands appearing as undistinguished expanses of black. The lights in the room were on, but dim, though Mu had no memory of turning them down. Perhaps it was some automatic process. After swaying a few moments in place, she walked to the bathroom, where she turned on the tap and splashed her face with some cold water. Drying off with a small hand towel she gazed at her bedraggled reflection. If anything, she looked even more exhausted than she had before, her sleep fitful and disturbed by these dark visions.

Is it guilt? she wondered.

Guilt for leaving behind her family who had sacrificed so much to secure her marriage to the future Emperor? Guilt for the effort Bright Eyes and Tender Hand had put in to secure her escape at such immense personal risk? Or were these dreams truly born of foresight? Was the ultimate guilt hiding these visions from the Empire? Shirking her responsibility. Was there a future in which Empress Mu conferred with the Grand Astronomer at the Bureau of Celestial Foresight and steered the Empire away from disaster and towards prosperity and peace?

But don’t I get a choice?

She shook her head, trying to clear these feelings. She walked back out into the bedroom and looked out the window. At the glittering lights of the cities far below. She thought of the nightclub in which she and Tavian had met. She thought of the traffic – and boutiques and theatres – that lined International Road, of the winding streets they had fled through behind Apollo. That had all been just one portion of one city. What she could see now from up here was so much vaster. And Shangxia was but a single world. One world of the forty million over which the dominion of the Sons of Nara Enduri stretched. Forty million worlds around somewhat less than forty million stars – and even that number accounted for less than one in ten thousand stars in the galaxy. What did her right to choose matter in the face of such numbers?

No! she insisted to herself. I get to choose how I spend my one and only life. No one else gets to decide. Not my parents, not the Emperor, not Nara Enduri Itself.

I am not a slave to destiny.

At that moment there came a rapping upon her door. She glanced up, startled from her contemplation of the planet below. She had almost convinced herself that she had imagined it, when she heard it again. She walked slowly over to the door. Tentatively she tapped the panel at its side and it slid open. The lights in the corridor outside had also dimmed, providing a night time ambience.

Standing in the hallway, just in front of her door, was a raven. As she watched the bird it stretched out its wings – all six of them.

Oh no, thought Mu, I’m still dreaming after all.

“Caaaw,” said the raven. It looked back along the corridor behind it, then back at her.

“You want me to follow?” asked Mu.

She could have sworn it nodded.

Maybe it’s not that complicated, thought Mu, Maybe I’m just going insane.

Nonetheless she stepped out into the corridor and allowed the door to close behind her. The raven bounded along, stopping at times to let her catch up before fluttering on. It reminded Mu of her and Tavian following Apollo through the Shangxia streets. They reached a little spiral staircase and Mu descended one level, still following the bird. Finally, they reached a singular door at the dead end of a shadowy hallway.

“Caaaw,” said the raven, once more stretching its three pairs of wings.

Mu stepped towards the door. The panel showed that it was locked, but she pressed the intercom button. There was a buzz. No one inside spoke, but after a moment the door opened. The raven flew into the darkness beyond. Mu followed, the door shutting behind her.

At the centre of the room stood a short young girl, maybe Nova’s age, though her stature almost made her look younger. Like Mu, she was barefoot, but that was where the similarities in their attire ended. The girl was wearing a frilly black dress, approximately knee-length and off shoulder, covered in silver and purple details – possibly abstract patterns, though some looked almost like runes. Over this dress she wore a long cloak which reached to the floor, clasped by some sort of black jewel just below her collarbone. On her head she wore an immense hat with a circular, floppy brim and rising to a crooked, conical point. A witch’s hat, one might say. Notably the girl had long, straight white hair and eyes that were an intense red that Mu had never seen before. The raven fluttered to the girl’s shoulder, where it settled.

“Thank you, Matthias,” said the girl, stroking the raven’s head.

Mu also noticed that the girl appeared to have drawn some sort of circular symbol on the ground, possibly a mandala of some sort. Around the room the only light was that provided by flickering candle flames. Strange aromas filled the air, utterly foreign to Mu.

“Princess Mukushen,” said the girl.

“That’s me,” said Mu, “Though, ah, you can call me Mu.”

“You’re a Resonant,” said the girl, her voice a monotone, her eyes seeming to blink less than was the usual amount.

“Yes,” said Mu.

“A Starseer.”

“Yes.”

The girl seemed to observe her, her eyes darting up and down. “You don’t look very much like a princess.”

Mu could only laugh. “Sorry to disappoint, it’s been a rough couple of days.”

The girl didn’t seem to react. She continued to stare at Mu in silence, her red eyes bright even in the room’s low light.

A thought occurred to Mu. “Are you Seraphina?” she asked.

The girl nodded. “Yes.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Mu.

Not saying anything, Seraphina walked closer to Mu. As she approached the disparity in their heights became even more apparent. The raven fluttered up to find a perch elsewhere in the room. Stretching up, Seraphina placed a hand to the side of Mu’s face, startling her.

“You’ve seen things tonight, haven’t you?” said Seraphina.

“I had some dreams—” began Mu.

“Not dreams,” said Seraphina, “You know they’re not dreams.” Seraphina’s hand stroked the side of Mu’s face. Her skin was unsettlingly cool. “I sense the shadow on you. Like back there.”

“Back where?” asked Mu.

“Hecate. The witches, the ones that killed us. Killed my coven, that is. It was the same shadow,” said Seraphina.

“I’m not sure I understand,” said Mu, but she remembered something from her dream.

The Oblivion’s shadow is long.

“Neither do I,” said Seraphina, at length, pulling her hand away. “You should tell Apollo what you’ve seen. I’ll come with you.”

“Okay,” said Mu, uncertainly.

“Tomorrow,” said Seraphina.

“Okay.”

“You can’t sleep, can you?” asked Seraphina.

“I’m so tired,” said Mu.

“But you can’t sleep.”

“No,” said Mu, shaking her head. “No, I can’t.”

“You need to free yourself from the shadow,” said Seraphina, turning her back on Mu and walking to one side of the room, kneeling down to rummage through a cupboard. “I have a way.”

“Some… potion?” asked Mu, her eyes now taking in the mysterious assortment of bottles on shelves around the room.

Seraphina turned around and handed something to Mu.

“Games,” she said.

Mu looked down and realised she’d been handed a videogame controller. “Games?”

Seraphina shook her head enthusiastically, taking a seat facing a big screen, beckoning for Mu to sit beside her. For the first time Seraphina seemed animated.

The character select screen appeared.

“I play as the great ape. Nova plays as the woman with power armour. There’s the princess with the magical triangles… but maybe you want something different?”

“I can be anyone?” said Mu.

“Anyone you like,” said Seraphina.

Mu smiled.