The Man in the Mirror

TAKE ME TO VALHALLA WHERE MY BROTHERS WAIT FOR ME

He'd been here once or twice in his memories, and he doesn't know it. He'd never consciously recall those alarming facts -all they ever were dreams across countless dim nights, with the prodding gazes of fate ever intent to peel him away from the truth. But his imprints remember, they watch his nightmares claw at their dominions, feel his past approaching on silent cat feet, observe with tight lips as they hesitate to ask their vessel about the things they see that he no longer remembers. Even then, what kind of conversation would become of that? None of them could decipher the blurry images that flash by so quickly, and they could only assume so much by knowing so little. Vague would become an understatement even as they gathered into a cluster, pushing their divinities, but with little success, the spirits settle to seek solace by adapting to the displays with solemn eyes, their comprehension dwindling over every re-run and new take.

Yasusada gathered his legs into a bundle as he tilted his head to one side, his lids heavy as an array of colors filled their abode with the sounds of swords clashing and a mute conversation where the words were but evidently muddled with age, almost as if he was watching a vintage film through a sepia filter, so old and ancient that you couldn't make out most of what was going on. Beside him was the spirit Souji, his arms nestled into the holes of hid sleeves while his face remained devoid of any expression but contempt. The imprint of his old blade would neither smile nor smirk for him as he always did, instead, his lips dug down into his ethereal jaw, their part of the Chronicle uneasily quiet as they process their vessel's memories for another time.

"Watching this makes my neck hurt." Yasusada complained, bowing his head so he no longer had to focus on the blinding flash of blurry images.

Souji assumed a stretch, the sound of his bones cracking resonating through out the empty space. "...I understand where your sentiments lie, Yamato, but to further adapt to our vessel and allow more of our better powers to soak into him we must-"

"Learn to comply and figure out what all of this means, am I right?"

"...Correct."

The blade grunted, idly biting into his inner cheek. "But no matter what we do, it never ends, Okita, it's like the boy has an entire library of memories that we have to go through like this." His arms reach up behind him, shifting his position into a more lax one as they supported his non-existent weight. "It's honestly feeling like a chore. I already know that our vessel is so much more...so why can't the Chronicles settle for that, instead?"

At first, Souji would learn to hesitate at Yasusada's bold questions of the space that housed them, wary of the effect that may be evoked if they dare to propose something out of their dominion. But the prospect of the Chronicles undoing them in any way dwindled the more he made use of his time meditating, breathing into the energies that pulse through it vibrantly. Bit by bit, he'd come to understand its mystic nature, realizing that it may not be as sentient as they thought it was. The warrior spirit gave his old blade an unknowing look, sporting a sigh as he did so. "I highly believe that the Chronicles is nothing more but an empty space." he began, watching Yasusada's eyebrow rise indefinitely, and yet he'd continue, all the while watching the blotches of colors spin around his line vision. "It has no being, rather, it's closer to an empty castle, waiting for its king to come prove his rule over it once and for all."

Yasusada only narrowed his eyes, willing his master to dig into the issue further, but all he could manage from Souji was a tight grin, sea-green eyes glossed over with a forlorn look. The silence was hollowing, and alas, even when the memories faded into the usual atmosphere of the Chronicles, they wouldn't share a word. Then, the space shifted ever so slightly, a rush of energy melting the old scene away into a fixture of blossoming pink trees, scattered over a rocky plain that stretched into lush green mountains just over yonder. The two imprints stared in awe as their environment visibly changed, the process perplexing as blue particles scattered through the winds, billowing over them with the sense of nostalgia filling their bones. They'd breath in, an unearthly surge of power writhing through their existences, fleetingly, then dispersing. Indefinitely, the two imprints would consider the shift akin to the dawning of a new day, perhaps to mark the progress of Teri's recollection, or a beacon to mark his growth, or both? They could never really tell, as they long abandoned the idea of their vessel being probable to normality, spontaneous being the best word that would emphasize his stages of development as they saw it now.

It wasn't long until the old Shinsengumi captain chose to speak, his hair ruffled over the rolling wind. "You might think that...our little Teri-boy is the king, am I right?"

The blade snorted, but he'd say nothing, implying that he did, truthfully, despite not verbally attesting to it. Souji grinned at this, closing his eyes as his smile slowly fell to the beat of the scattering cherry blossoms, a few stray petals phasing through his cheek. "...Well, you're wrong. As much as I regard him with respect, I think the Chronicles is waiting for someone else...and that individual is caged up somewhere, sleeping, merely existing, but relentless as their advent approaches."

Yasusada fiddled with his scarf, pulling it over his lips as the wind settled into his clothes, sending a shiver into him. "...Of all the crackpot theories you've made so far, Okita, this one is the craziest..."

"And yet...you feel it too, don't you? A daunting presence that threatens to overthrow our boy over his hold on us?"

The shorter imprint regarded his master with a pause, unable to find his words until he clicked his tongue in a sharp, unimpressed sound. "...Tch. I sincerely hope that the years are getting to your soul, Okita."

The Shinsengumi nodded to his blade's statement, wanting the same reality deep within the cockles of his fickle spirit. "I wish for the same, so much so, that it scares me." he'd reply, a silent inhale released as a sharp exhale, mingling with the breeze that seemed to bring about the notion of a change that they could never hoped to have anticipated.

And when their vessel decidedly opened his sterling blue eyes to the sight of a flowering cherry blossom looming fondly over his form, the two imprints would only observe, keeping their voices tucked in, lest they blurt something untimely. They'd only ever want what was best for the young man, and a coincidence and strange theories were at the very edge of the known spectrum for his level of power currently. The two would wait, managing their words to the best of their abilities to prevent the winds from blowing harder than what it already was.

"Winds of change, huh?" the blade idly mumbled, a frost-like chill sending a shiver through him as he allowed the breeze to wash through his existence. "...Heh. More stormy than windy. actually."

deltra of gangnam style

TAKE ME TO VALHALLA WHERE MY BROTHERS WAIT FOR ME

The first thing his mind registered was a strange sensation of an empty space, bathed in light and quiet. His entire essence seemed to shuffle in and out of a conscious and unconscious state as he tried to make out his current location. His shoes were heavy and his arms were lax, his breathing was calm and yet he could feel a small part of him responding to the dream-like world in a frenzied fashion. Realizing that the restless ramming was indeed his heart, his brow would instinctively furrow, the sound considerably foreign to him as there was no sign of danger or threat lingering around the wide open space.

All there was was him, but when he willed himself to move, beside him was a large cherry tree, whose blossoms were a vivid shade of pink that even his lucid state reacted with a jolt, his being visibly shaken by the sudden appearance of a gentle shade that loomed over his form. A breeze rolled over the tree's branches, blowing a bunch of stray petals and causing them to dance as if they were maidens in long, billowy gowns. He squinted at them, watching the blossoms flutter against his eyesight before falling to the clear, glassy surface beneath them.

'...The Sakuras are happy to see you again, it seems.' a voice uttered, only barely muddled by the whispers of the winds. The boy tilted his head towards the sound, meeting the hazy smile of a presence he could barely decipher, their figure outlined by a mix of several earthy tones.

So, there was someone else by the cherry tree, and the more he focused, the less he could see, because the surrounding atmosphere was a harsh blur of light and he briefly wondered if it was purposely done to hide whoever stood in the middle of that empty space. The presence giggled, light and warm and sweet and so innocently feminine that he was almost obliged to blush carelessly in response.

'...I see, so you don't remember.' he'd hear her say, the words laced over by an emotion that he could only comprehend as a deep and irrevocable sadness, 'How many times have we been through this, I wonder?'

A sun-lit warmth brushed over his cheek briefly as the feminine presence edged closer, lightly showering him in her melancholic sentiments. 'I really hope this will be your last, the eons are getting to my soul, and it only hurts me even more to see your memory of me being so fragmented.' he felt her thumb roll lightly across his cheek, drying a silver strand of his tears that he wasn't aware of until that moment.

He felt his chest tighten all of a sudden, as if a rush of emotions began to flood his nerves right then and there. In return, the woman smiled, though it was as fickle as the summer breeze, because even then, she too was crying, and her tears were sparse and seemed to dig deeper than any sort of scar he harbored in the past.

'A-ah....don't, please, I always see you crying when we meet like this.' she'd say, the hand on his cheek shaking lightly, 'For once, I wish the Fates would bring you to me with a knowing smile on your face, not like this...not ever like this...'

The boy was easily distressed by her tone of voice, but more so, he was confused, and her riddled speech did nothing but sink him more into a mystery he was slowly beginning to frustrate over. She'd retract her hand from his skin almost hesitantly as her words ended, the pink hue of the cherry tree now melting into a regretful stormy blue.

'Why must you be tortured like this? You did nothing wrong!' he heard her scream, the words apparently so powerful that the entirety of the space seemed to shake in dismay towards her sentiment.

Under his feet, the earth rumbled, the glossy ground shattering like glass shards. He desperately tried to gain a leverage, but the space shifted so violently that even the surrounding light broke out into gray skies, carrying the cherry tree's blue petals in a soul-torn wind that hid the woman's form more prominently.

There was a blood curdling scream that gave off a foreboding sign of a pain so incomprehensible that even as his body fell into the cracks of the transparent surface, echoes of it remained with him, stinging his ears with an emotion akin to a monstrous malice that was hell-bent on tearing the world apart.

He motioned his arms to cover his ears, only to realize that he couldn't move, as if his entire body was bound by a form of string. When he tried to wriggle out of the binding, it only seemed to tighten, stinging his arms with a prickly sensation. And he could only ever watch the single line of grey sky from which he came from grow smaller and smaller as his descent brought him even further down an apparent abyss. He could feel the fear crawling at his spine, nearly reaching his skull if it weren't for a blinding blue light that allowed his entire consciousness to jolt upwards from a slumber he didn't know he was in.

"Ninigi, he's awake!"

Terith inhaled sharply, his breaths short and ragged as thick beads of sweat fell off his face. Once his feverish state settled, his mind began to clear, and his eyes once blurry and unfocused were slowly beginning to register the outlines of the things around him. Above him was a ceramic ceiling with intricate symbols sprawled across the beams. Several pillars littered the room, shadowing the sunlight that peeked out from the singular sliding door present at the very center of the room, adjacent to his sprawled out form. The smell of incense made him cough as it overwhelmed his nostrils, causing several paper talismans that were generously laid out on his body to flutter off around him, wisping over the circle of salt that was curiously drawn underneath him.

Several shuffling footsteps approached his bound form, the face of a young man temporarily becoming his vision's point of interest. The black-haired male smiled, his trinkets jingling lightly as he knelt on one knee to address to his guest more appropriately. "It's commendable that you've persisted against that." he outstretched an arm, gesturing the swordsman to take it, to which he did, albeit hesitantly, before having his body hauled upwards. His balance was a little off as he stood, but thankfully, the monk-like man beside him took the obligation to shoulder him temporarily.

"Worry not," the man said, ushering Terith out the door where a shrine maiden bundled her fingers together patiently, her expression polite and gentle, "Me and Konohana Sakuya mean you no harm, the ritual was simply done to remove all form of enchantment that the Arashi miko initially placed unto you."

The shrine maiden offered them a bow, her long silky hair falling off her shoulders like the flow of a river stream. "Please, just call me Konohana." she said.

When she raised her head, Terith caught wind of her glossy pink eyes, a breathless warmth radiating from her smile that he was unable to properly return, if not for the shy grin that he managed underneath his hood.

When his feet finally hit the soft padding of a grass lawn, his attention immediately shifted from his embarrassment towards the oriental garden that covered the entire lawn with a light atmosphere. Several cherry trees stood on one side, shading a make-shift lake beside it. Though it was breath-taking initially, the sakuras left a melancholic taste in his mouth.

The monk settled him silently on the grass, allowing Terith to adjust to his desired position before assuming a cross-legged stance, breathing in the fresh Midian air with closed eyes. "My name is Ninigi, by the way, and since you've finally managed to wake up, it's high time we leave the shrine so you can get some fresh air, yes?"

"A-aye." Terith croaked, his voice tumbling off the walls of his throat in an unstable fashion.

deltra of gangnam style

TAKE ME TO VALHALLA WHERE MY BROTHERS WAIT FOR ME

There in Midi, at an old god's temple, was a separate reality wherein the cherry trees were abundant all year, even in the winter. And in the summer, the two existences who safe-guarded this reality with their lives seemed to have warranted themselves an unexpected guest. And perplexing as he was initially, the process of eliminating the unstable energies in his body proved to uncover his realistic nature -a passive blonde swordsman whose growth in power was unyielding as it was commendable. It was his simplistic expression, however, that caught the goddess familiar, Ninigi, off-guard.

At first, the brunette monk came to judge his appearance in their little space as one that had been carefully orchestrated by fate, but seeing him then in the light of the Midian sunlight would only make him doubt his assumptions more. Terith was but a regular human boy; adult, yes, but his maturity was questionable and so was his credibility as a being that could even perceive his and Konohana's appearances, which weren't ordinarily seen by typical humans if they didn't have some corrupted method of defiling the barrier that protected their space. Had it not been for the persistent aura that cloaked the blonde in positive energy, then perhaps Ninigi would've made a move to dispose him.

But Terith's silence on the matter was an irregularity so interesting that his mere presence there, beside him, made him wonder if he was more than just humane. With little to no clue as to how he'd prove it, however, Ninigi would settle the matter with a long and steady breath, focusing his energy on his meditation as if to curb his curiosities, even just a little bit.

Little was it known that his guest wasn't all that calm and collected as he presented himself to be, in fact, there had been great confusion in him too, if not more. He just wasn't as verbal as Ninigi expected humans to be.

Though the situation called for streams of what's and how's, the swordsman didn't have that all-familiar pressuring feel nipping at the skin on his back that always prompted him to act on first intuition. Instead, his being was comforted by the silence that Ninigi's small yard seemed to boast with sincerity, where his erratic heartbeat significantly slowed as he took several generous inhales of the crisp morning breeze. He'd have his legs tucked into a neat fold, imitating the position of the brunette monk beside him, though not as accurately peaceful as Ninigi appeared to be. Nonetheless, Terith seemed to manage the lotus stance with much diligence for a beginner, and Konohana was more than giddy to admit to this with a small, endearing smile.

Terith felt his breath hesitate for a moment, fidgeting as he could feel a steady gaze at his shoulder. Fearing that it had been Ninigi scrutinizing him for his lack of poise, the boy pushed his shoulders a tad, stretching his back so he'd form a sharp outline against the sun. And though this did seem to shift the attention of the prying gaze to something else, it did little to for the questions that bubbled at the bottom of his focus. Just what was he doing there, feigning meditation in such a surreal place?

As this question surfaced, Terith could feel his lotus position ease out of relaxation and adapt a more rigid feel to his muscles, tightening until he was prompted to stand as he remembered the events that transpired prior to everything: how he and a girl named Leila fought off a band of pirates, and how he nearly murdered his withdrawing opponent in cold blood. The sounds of his movement seemed to catch Ninigi's attention indefinitely, earning him a concerned stare.

"You seem troubled." the monk said, as if it wasn't obvious enough. "Since you're our guest, are there any concerns that should be made aware of?"

The swordsman tilted his head back, wondering if there was any wrong to address his urgency to find his way back to Fiore. He couldn't remember his means of departure, but if he had done something displeasing to Leila in his moments of darkness, then he'd never be able to live with the guilt.

"Where am I?" he asked them, turning to face their brightly lit faces as they directed their attention to his figure, "I...have unfinished business, back in Fiore."

Konohana raised an intrigued eyebrow at his proposal, to which Ninigi would only offer a solemn nod, analyzing his words before giving a tact expression in response. Normally, he'd deny the existence of the space to the outsiders, but the boy was already admittedly special than most, and hence he had just a bit more than a one-way ticket to the full truth.

"Your physical location is Midi, a country south of Fiore." the brunette gestured over to Konohana with his hand, beckoning her to prepare tea for the long discussion that was in the works. "Your spiritual location, however, is a separate reality that had been cut from the flow of time. Its a space with no name, but we, the goddess familiars, who've been assigned to protect the sanctity of this place, have titled this rift in time as Okurimono, a blessing to both me and Konohana to live out the remainder of our days in peace."

By the time Ninigi's train of speech ended, the blonde swordsman would have been at his knees, grasping at the grass as realization dawned on him like a looming storm cloud.

"...You mean I traveled to an entirely different continent without me remembering?" he mumbled, instinctively searching his pockets for any semblance of his money. To his surprise, not only was his previous savings in tact, but there was an unfamiliar bag of jewels in his other pocket, where the knot seemed fresh still, hinting that it wasn't too long ago that he received it.

To his left, the brunette monk stifled a laugh that threatened to appear rude of him, watching his guest bask in his self-induced horror. His humanity shouldn't be lightly regarded, he'd think in a light jest.

"Your bakaneko brought you here, actually." Ninigi said, flawlessly sitting up from his lotus stance to give his blonde visitor a reassuring pat to the shoulder. "In the most interesting of fashions, by the way."

The mere acknowledgement of the yokai cat seemed to give off a sense of dread into Terith's persona. "What did he do this time...?!" he shook, his eyes wide with panic.

And to that, Ninigi would all but grin, asserting positive notions as if it were second nature to him, "He saved your life, of course. A common action for all familiars."

"....You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

deltra of gangnam style