The Mirror (Part 7 of 7)
Maria turn 8 seventh omake
stop
Shhh.
It's alright.
Don't struggle.
stopstopstopplease
I know, I know. It hurts. It always does to start with. Think of it like birth. They say it's traumatic even for the newborn; terrifying, even. But without that terror, you'd never pass beyond the womb and see the sunlight. And soon you forget, and there's just life. Far better than darkness and the umbilical cord.
Nonononononononoadoniawhatdidyoudotoadoniawhatdidyoudotome
You know, in a way? This is a gift.
Please
Yes, yes. It seems ludicrous. But it is. After all, if I didn't do this for you, would you be able to do it yourself? I mean, be honest. How often do you genuinely… acknowledge… who you are? Can't be very often. Better to just lock it away in the darkness inside your head, pretend it isn't there. Put a mask over it. Lie about it.
And that might be the worst kind of sin in the world. Certainly the most common. So many people just… ignoring who they are. And that's the charitable interpretation. You could as easily call it lying. To everyone. To themselves. The hypocrisy is… stifling. Thick and poisonous.
Well. That's where I come in. The True Mask will take
your mask off.
dontdothisdontdothisplease
Ah, you're struggling again. Well. If that helps, go ahead. People can be very afraid. If pretending your limbs have any bearing on what happens next, then don't let me stop you.
Let's begin.
---
They're in the box, again. Days before. Rain beating a tattoo on the roof, drowned out by spearheads and hafts clashing against each other, clack clack clack. Maria couldn't blink. Couldn't move. For all she knew, she was a single eye, fixed in the air as if pinned there by a passing God. She could see Kuei next to her, in his hooded robe and glistening horror of a mask.
"You're rather good," he said conversationally, eyes fixed on the sparring match. Maria saw herself and Priam, blurs of motion smashing into each other over and over. "Well. I assume. I don't know much about spearfighting. Then again, after a certain point, even the layman can see excellence."
Priam swept out the Other Maria's legs. She fell heavily, landed on her back.
No. No no no no no. Her mind scrambled into a panic, clawing at the walls of her inactivity. No, he can't see this, he can't he can't he can't-
Kuei smiled. The mask twitches into a grizzly red leer, skinless lips drawing back over blood-drenched teeth.
"Ah, but I can. I must."
The Other Maria's eye opened. The Red Place glared out of it. It flung itself at Priam like a hungry animal.
She'd heard from Oyster about the fight, and a little from Priam. But hearing and seeing were two different things. Her body was spinning, twisting, lashing out with every limb, aggression driving strike after strike after strike until all her elder could do was defend. Those flickers of the Other Maria's face that she could see were all bared teeth and wide eye. Snarling. Bestial. Every part of herself she'd ever tried to bury, pulled up and spread out on show.
She wanted to recoil. To close her eyes. To just- stop seeing this thing. But she couldn't. Kuei looked at her, smiled through the mask again.
"Shall we say hello?"
The fight froze. The world became fluid, shifting even as she tried to understand it. They were alone, suddenly; her, Kuei and the Other Maria, standing in an open plane where there was nothing but darkness. Despite that, she could see.
The Other Maria was still in mid-air, contorted into a spear-strike, mouth wide in some animalistic war cry. Kuei leaned in.
"So," he said eventually. "Anger. Not surprising, honestly, I see that a great deal. Not much thought. You get impulsive when you're angry. And when you're fighting… this."
Not me, she thought.
Not me. Never me. The Red Place is- is-
The Other Maria
Twitches.
Kuei smiled again as its head turned to face her. Something's changed. She can see it now; the lines of her face are blunt and hard, her skin has a dusty, solid look to it. Like stonework. The eye is hers, but it's not her looking out of them.
It twisted itself slowly until its feet settle onto the ground. Stalked closer till she could feel the heat of its breath on her skin. She looked into the face of the Red Place, and for a moment all there was, was horror.
"The Red Place," said Kuei. "Interesting name." He walked around them both, examining them from every angle. Maria tried to track him as he went behind her, but it was just a struggle to look at something, anything else, and it failed pitifully. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
The Red Place snarled, not turning away from Maria, but it spoke.
Her.
I save her.
He tilted his head and waited.
I save her. Over and over. Fight after fight. In the legion. On the Road. Across the mountains and the plains. In the fucking pit.
I save her. And she hates me for it.
"Ah," said Kuei. "I see. And why is that, do you think?"
The Red Place leaned even closer. Maria felt it press its forehead against her own, their eyelashes flickering against each other.
Not Devil enough.
Kuei laughed. Open, broad, joyous laughter.
"Of course! Of course that's what it is! Even a Cultivator can be quite so foolishly enthralled!" The words seemed to elicit some mad passion in him. He kicked out his legs, waved his arms, craned back his head and howled with laughter.
Dancing. He was dancing.
It went on for a long while, until finally he stopped, curled in on himself and gasping gleefully.
"Oh. Oh, thank you. Thank you both," he managed. "I never thought I'd see so perfect an example of… of…
this." Kuei pointed at his mask. The raw red gristle twitched. "Oh. Well. We should move on."
He pulled himself upright and gestured. The world went fluid again.
Sand. Coarse and rough and gritty, scratching at her skin. She felt it on her hands, arms, chest, legs. Her heart was beating in her chest like a captured hummingbird. But it didn't matter, because
she could move. She scrabbled up onto her feet, crouched like an animal, looked around.
The world turned to ice as she recognised where she was.
"Do you like it? It seemed… appropriate," said Kuei.
The Pit. The fucking pit.
He's gotten every detail, every colour and smell. That roof, low enough you could touch it with your skull on tiptoe. The dull grey stone of the floor. The walls, rough-hewn from the walls, dashed with unnameable dark splashes where grubby, mundane brutality had spilled blood and never cleaned it.
And the chains. The heavy, black-iron chains the owner had kept them in.
Kuei coughed politely. "And of course, you know your opponent." The Red Room howled behind him, descending into a maddened frenzy as it tried to get loose. He nodded, smiling, like it was some sort of charming joke. "Well. Let it never be said I'm not fair. Today, ladies, the mask comes off. Whichever one of you wins goes free."
It was a lie, she knew instantly. If the Room won, she'd be more meat for the Carpets – or a carpet herself. She couldn't trust him to keep his word if she won, either. But it didn't matter. The Place would kill her either way.
Her chains dissipated in a flare of Qi. No more time to think. Fight or die. She lunged forwards, hands outstretched. The Place met her with an almost identical assault, fingers clawed to gouge into her flesh. No way past that. Only through. She pushed forward-
Into the Place's shoulder. The air went out of her lungs. It brought a hand around, caught her throat, and flung her bodily into the back wall. (Straight throws and sweeps. Nothing high, nothing forward.) The impact shuddered through Maria's body, leaving pain behind as it went.
The Place was lunging at her.
It fought here, she realised.
It always fought here. Not me.
Fuck.
Brought her arms up into defence, dropped her head. It rained blows down on her, each thud sending vibrations shivering down her forearms. Was this what it had been like? For all those others like her, who'd died in this place, their only crime that it was them or her? Was this how it had felt?
Whump. Whump. Whump.
Blow after blow after blow. Pain, scarlet and bright. It would kill her if this kept up. She needed to try something else. Couldn't outfight it head on. It'd react too fast for something sneaky. But –
Aggression. Pure aggression, taking any chance to attack.
Control the chance.
This would kill her if it didn't work, but she was out of options. Maria twisted slightly, pulling her left side back. The barest motion, but it hinted at weakness. The Red Place responded the way it always did – it assaulted the crack in her defence.
The blow landed on her left side. She took the strike and pivoted on her right foot, lashing out with a single tight punch into its throat.
The Red Place staggered back, choking. She had seconds, if that. Lunged forwards throwing the sharpest blows she could manage, precise and brutal, into any hole in its guard she could find. There weren't many. Even on the backfoot, the Red Place was still blindingly fast. But there were a few.
Keep going. Keep going. Strike strike strike- Its guard comes up. Still standing. Fuck. She sways at the waist, leaps back. It's on her again.
The fight went on like that for a while, defence and attack swapping back and forth. Every fight becomes a dance eventually. This one Maria knows the steps to. It wass stronger, faster, meaner, but – yeah. She was s smarter.
Kuei was leaning against the far wall. Every time they got near him, he was gone like he was never there, until she cought him out of the corner of her eye, watching from a safe distance. The mask still had that bastard smile on its face. He was enjoying this.
She couldn't lose. She
won't. So she went for some of her crueller tricks, and found clever ways to use them when the Place wouldn't expect it. Opens more gaps. In turn, it just went harder at her, punishing every failure in defence or evasion. Roaring, screaming, howling in pain and fury. She hated it. Hated it more than she'd known – how it bellowed, snarled, panted like some stupid feral thing. Born in a cage.
Make it die in a cage now, she thought-
And stopped. It struck her in the face, hammered the weakness as she defended, but it didn't matter.
She'd seen – Confirm. Confirm fast.
Maria ducked, blocked, dodged, weaved – found a weakness, sent needle-sharp thrusts into it until it staggered back – took that brief moment to reach up, check with her own fingers. She was right. Glanced across, one final check.
On the Red Place's neck – on her neck – were thick, black veins, crawling up over throat and jaw.
Her mind whirred, calculated. Understood. This was the point, wasn't it? This fight. Because as long as she fought, Kuei still won. The True Mask was about your dark side. But what made it dark wasn't what it was. It was where she'd put it.
The Red Place was closing, hands outstretched.
Maria opened her arms.
---
…What?
No.
No. That's not how this works.
Got you.
No. You – you foolish idiot, you cannot stop me by –
Got you.
Stop. This is my path. MINE. Get out. Get out-
Got you.
---
She'd never done anything like this. She knew she never would again. The Red Place was in her skull again. She felt it snarling and roaring.
Good.
Revenge?
The roars got louder. It had long gone past words. But there was a clear and present ascent. She smiled grimly.
Let's go then.
They weren't in the Pit any more. Now it was somewhere warm and red, wet, pulsating. The floor gave ever so slightly beneath her feet like living bone. Kuei backed away. Maria didn't move. Not yet.
"Stay… stay back," he said. No charm in his voice now. No funny little digressions. She could fucking get used to that.
"You're right," she responded. "It was a gift."
"I – I will kill you, disciple. I will –"
"Good gift, too. Have it back."
She went from standing to a dead sprint in seconds. He screamed. Turned. Started to run. Doesn't matter. She was on him in moments.
This was not a place, she knew. This was the mind, hers and his. It wasn't surprising, then, when she sunk inside.
---
Your turn.
Nonono
Still as fun?
Pleasenogiveyouanythingyouwant
Yes. You will.
---
His mind was worse than she'd expected. The True Mask was a presence here, wet and shuddering, veins and tendrils running through his every thought. But not enough to control him. He wasn't a slave. Just a bad person.
They started in a flickering half-memory of childhood – his mother gives him cake; he cries because it's the wrong one – then on to adolescence. Then adulthood, dreams, ideas. He ran from her, and yet, somehow, that just brings him closer. The Red Place gave a gleeful snarl in her chest. She smirked.
Still he ran. Deeper into himself, dragging her behind him. She saw more by inches. Resentments, small and petty. Envy, watching cultivators stalk past like gods. Rage – at the world for denying him, at his father for failing him, at himself for weakness. And under it all, hunger. Deep, lustful hunger, the kind that could never be filled but would never believe that either. So it reached for power, desperate and greedy.
Oh Kuei. So boring. Should have stayed a merchant. Would have lived longer.
He kept running, kept running, kept running – but at last, there was no-where to run. He staggered, head swinging back and forth hunting for an exit that wasn't there. Maria ignored him, let herself look around. The place was dark and quiet and huge, like a cathedral. High above them, she saw the Mask. In here, it was vast; she could have stood on the tip of its nose and barely see its brow. The ground was translucent, too. She squinted. Beneath it were pathways of some sort, thick roads full of qi that cycled wildly back and forth.
His Cultivation. They were inside his cultivation.
Then- a scream. Thrashing. She snapped down into a defensive stance, but rose out of it again when she realised. They weren't alone. People had come out of the shadows of this place. Dozens of them. Peddlers, wanderers, servants, innkeepers. All of them dull-eyed. Washed out.
Kuei's victims.
They had closed on him before he'd realised. Hands had clamped down on him. Dead fingers burrowing through the fabric of his robes, tearing skin, shredding flesh. He screamed again, kept struggling.
"Wait."
They turned. Looked at her.
"Please-please-please-" gasped Kuei, over and over. Maria looked in herself for mercy for him. Found none.
She came slowly to the crowd of dead, ignoring the weeping Cultivator.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry we didn't catch him sooner."
For a moment, there was no response. Those dull eyes stared at her, devoid of any kind of expression. But then-
-hands shredding away at Kuei, tearing, rending-
-He screamed-
-driven to his knees, held there-
-they shuffled back. Opened a path for her. She walked down it. She couldn't reach Kuei. They wouldn't give her that. But she was close enough to see him now. One of the dead turned its head up slowly to look at her. On his robes, she saw a simple picture; the moon, rising above a hill. The dead man took hold of the mask and pulled. Kuei screamed, a long, desperate wail of pain and fear. Then a tearing noise, flesh being torn apart. At last, the mask came loose. Beneath was a man. Not more than twenty two – twenty three at most. Callow, turtle-blooded, with a wispy little moustache and a poorly trimmed goatee. That's all.
The dead man offered her the mask. Something shifted in his face, a flicker of some last spark of personality.
"Our lives," he said, in a voice choked with dust.
She took it gently from him. It had changed, she realised. Where once it had been wet, skinless flesh, now it was a simple thing. Black lacquered wood, with a carving on the forehead of the moon and the hill.
The Place was still raging in her head.
Revenge. You said revenge.
I know.
So *take it*.
No.
She looked at the dead.
They need it more.
"Thank you," she said aloud, and stepped back. The dead man had turned his face away from her already. Kuei screamed again as they descended.
Maria stayed, and watched justice be done.
---
Two Days Later
Zhen had seen the riders inching closer to the gate for hours now. He'd expected traders, with that kind of speed. Maybe civilians. Perhaps one of the smaller cults that wandered the desert.
He hadn't expected Golden Devils. And certainly not a Mushroom.
As they closed, he snapped to attention. There was eight of them, the Devils in legionnaire armour. Beaten up, too, looking at them; bruises and bandages covered every inch of them. Even the Mushroom moved like it'd taken damage.
"Clansmen," he said, eying them up. "Welcome to Three Frogs. What brought you here?"
The one at the front shot him a tired glance. "Teachers for the soldiers," she said. Odd looking girl, Zhen thought. Pale like a corpse. One eye. "From the Scorpion road."
"Ah! Yeah. Yeah, I know you." He looked down at his desk for a moment in the guard post, shuffled through it till he found the paperwork. "Sign here?"
She scratched her name. He can't help himself.
"Eventful trip?"
The Mushroom snorts a laugh. The one-eyed girl gives him a shrug.
"Something like that."
---
Oh thank God it's done.
@Kaboomatic @Humbaba @TehChron may I have this bookmarked, please?
