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Court Democracy: EverEmber
22nd Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG
The first rays of morning light drip through the window. It’s earlier than Rafael typically wakes, yet he’s already dressed, his waist armed with collapsible arrows and his bag packed.
Half a day in EverEmber has swirled by in a blur. He hasn’t properly had time to process the bizarre twists of fate that delivered Kyoko to her sister and somehow sanctioned Rafael as the courier.
EverEmber has not been as violent and terrifying as he’s imagined, though a significant factor of that experience lies in his realization of misplaced blame. Joaquina might have found her end under an igni blade, but it was her brother who placed her in its path.
As he’d bathed earlier, he’d scrubbed his skin feverishly, hoping to rid himself of the bloody visions across his body. But it will take more than soaps and lotions to cleanse his mind and heart of what he can’t escape.
Joaquina would have been living a peaceful life today had it not been for her cowardly brother who couldn’t answer the call to war.
The bedsheets stir as Kyoko rises, yawns, and rubs her eyes. “What time is it?”
She’s dressed in the same clothes from the night before, having fallen asleep on his shoulder, exhausted from the emotional toll. He’d lifted her into his arms and laid her onto one side of the bed, then changed into a more comfortable outfit and slept next to her. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her sleep in attempting to carry her back to her room.
“Too early,” Rafael responds with a smirk. “We should head out for Tusa soon.”
Kyoko nods sleepily. “I see you’re already dressed and packed. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep here last night.” She rises to her feet and walks over to the foot of the bed, where Rafael is seated.
“I hope you don’t mind that I let you sleep here.”
There’s a pause in which Rafael cannot fathom what Kyoko may be thinking. He worries until her lips curl into a pleasant smile and she says, “I don’t mind. I’ll go get ready and we can head out to Tusa shortly.”
She leans forward and tilts her head to the side, beckoning him to perform the mari greeting with a kiss on each cheek. At Shifa’s estate, he hesitated, but he doesn’t anymore. He places a kiss on each of her cheeks, and takes in a quiet moment of gentle affection.
When they pull apart, Rafael’s gaze locks on the igni Librarian’s. A realization falls upon him like the plunging weight of an avalanche. Yala’s shimmering eyes and silvery voice, the attributes that amplified the comfort he felt when interacting with her, are Kyoko’s.
It was never about Yala. It was always Kyoko.
The clearing from which Mount Mother rises is on the way back to their vessel from the ryokan. A significant crowd gathers at the base of the volcano, many of whom wear the same necklace, with three dark, volcanic pearls hanging from them. A small child approaches the Librarians and hands a pearl necklace to each.
“What is this?” Rafael asks Kyoko.
“Mourning Pearls,” she answers. “It appears there’s a funeral happening at the base of Mount Mother.”
“Who’s passed?” Rafael wonders aloud.
Kyoko shrugs. “Must be someone influential. There are hundreds, or thousands, of mourners.”
“Should we go around?”
Kyoko shakes her head. “It’ll waste time. The quickest way past is straight ahead.”
She guides him into the thick collection of igni citizens, taking his hand and squeezing through as many people as they can. He clutches Joaquina’s bracelet to his chest.
About halfway across the clearing, Rafael’s eye catches a fascinating scene at the base of the volcano: a coffin on a stage and six individuals in formal igni attire saluting.
He tugs gently on Kyoko’s hand and she stops walking.
“I’ve never seen an igni funeral before. I’d like to watch.”
Kyoko nods and they stand side by side, observing as she explains. “This isn’t a typical funeral. The deceased is someone in the government.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s the Court up there. All seven...” She squints and counts again. “No, only six of the members of the Court are present. It looks like Courtman Tomohiro isn’t—”
Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. She turns to an elderly woman next to her, whose cheeks are painted with streaks of tears. “Whose funeral is this?”
The woman raises an eyebrow. “Have you not heard? Somewhere off of SunSide’s coast, Courtman Tomohiro’s ship has sunk. He was aboard.”
“That’s terrible,” Kyoko responds after a pause. She gestures to the coffin on stage. “They were able to find the remains?”
The woman shakes her head. “Found the ship, but no body. The coffin is empty.”
Kyoko’s expression remains solemn as she continues to watch the funeral with Rafael.
“I’m sorry,” Rafael says, leaning toward her.
Kyoko looks up at him and smiles, but he can tell it’s forced. “He was a rare breed of politician—one who actually seemed to care for the citizens. The discovery of Lily Beach influenced his decision to relinquish Bibi Sands and end the war. He always seemed to want the best for us, which is more than I can say about anyone else on that stage.”
“It’s unfortunate they couldn’t find his remains to bury.”
“Bury?” Kyoko asks, visibly confused. “We don’t bury our dead.” She points to the volcano. “The dead are fed to Mount Mother, coffin and all. An igni exoskeleton won’t decompose in the ground. It has to be melted down by the volcano’s heat. The liquified stone then flows through natural underground tunnels, depositing and solidifying around the island.”
A loving smile spreads across her lips. “Eventually, we all become part of her.”
Rafael realizes the beauty in the cultures he’d condemned; he laments how much he would have learned long ago, had his mind and heart not been imprisoned.
“I’m sorry, Rafael,” Kyoko interrupts his thoughts. “Igni funerals go on for some time. We have to keep moving.”
They do so, finding their boat from the previous day and trekking the same way they arrived: Rafael swimming in the water, while Kyoko rows above.
Tusa is exactly as she described—tiny and covered in dense forest. Rafael can see why the EverEmber government can’t find practical use for it, and why it’s preserved by archaeologists and explorers.
The search for the TreeKeeper doesn’t last long. They enter the forest on the northwestern edge, walk east and then south, and begin to head back to where the ship is tied.
Kyoko masterfully guides them in patterns that reveal every tree, bush, and small cavern on the island. She knows it well. The search ends in a desolate clearing, covered with rotting logs, dead leaves, and colorless trees. It oozes eerie grimness, save for the northern boundary, beyond which is the shore and the ocean.
“Mission over,” Kyoko says. “We’ve explored Tusa, as the Prime instructed, and the TreeKeeper doesn’t exist. Alba and Unisa’s journey is the only means of verification left for Hay-Ro’s letter.”
Rafael takes a seat on a large boulder and sighs, demoralized. Through the trees, the suns’ rays play off the ocean’s surface. The longer he watches it, the more he realizes there’s a familiar buzz of natural energy on his skin. He feels it throughout his body.
Radiant energy.
“Kyoko,” he says with a shaky voice, getting her attention. His heart pounds as the buzzing of the energy amplifies. “Something is happening.”
And then the gust comes, the wind that twice before carried him into the void of the Radiance. He accepts it, allows the floating feeling to take him, and his eyes close. When they open again, he’s still in the clearing.
He never entered the void.
Kyoko’s eyes widen. “Is that...more forest?”
Where there was once an ocean and a shore, there are now thick branches and tall trunks, as if the island has grown. “Wasn’t this clearing at the very northern boundary of the island?”
“The Radiance,” Rafael says. “I felt it. It’s leading us somewhere.”
To me, echoes a familiar voice in Rafael’s mind.
“Joaquina?” he says. “I can hear you.”
You’ve found me, Rafa.
“Rafael?” Kyoko places a hand on his shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”
“I can hear Joaquina. She’s calling me to her.” He listens again.
Follow the forest and come find me, Rafa.
Heat rises into his cheeks and his feet move, beyond his control. “I have to go to her.”
“Rafael, wait,” Kyoko hesitates.
Any logic or reasoning is wiped clean the moment Joaquina’s voice reaches his mind. He doesn’t question what is happening or why, but a miraculous tug demands he enters the forest. And he cannot refuse its call, as hard as he tries.
He turns to Kyoko and holds out his hand. “I have to find her, Kyoko.”
Hesitating still, Kyoko slowly places her fingers in his palm and he leads her out of the clearing and into the forest.
There is a vibrancy in the trees and bushes and leaves around them. Glorious greens and a bright, rich aura surround them. They smell fresh mud and morning dew on the playful leaves by their feet.
They arrive in another clearing, far larger than the one they left behind. It’s filled with spirit and brilliant life. At the very center is a girthy tree with so many branches and leaves, it would take a millennium to count. It features colors Rafael has never seen before, and the interconnected roots expand out to every tree in this section of forest.
“Where are we?” Kyoko wonders.
An unfamiliar voice echoes from the canopy above. “You are at the Bridge Tree, where this world connects to the world beyond. And I am its keeper.”
An entity appears. A grotesque, deformed figure with thin, raven hair that appears unattached to her scalp. Crimson eyes sunken in, sharp teeth, and a serpentine tongue. Her magenta skin is wrinkled, flaking off and blistery.
She is covered in a black garment that flows around her, like a dark cloud trying desperately to cling to her. Under the cloudy cloak, she appears muscular—the body of a warrior.
“The TreeKeeper,” Rafael identifies her.
“Welcome,” croaks her grimy voice, “I was forewarned of your arrival.”
“By whom?” Kyoko asks.
“I cannot say. It is not yet time.”
She turns to Rafael and points a diseased finger at him. “You. You have been holding her here.”
“Holding who here?” he responds.
“She has wanted to go home. To the world beyond. And you have kept her here at the Bridge Tree.”
Rafael’s brows furrow as he tries to make sense of what the TreeKeeper is saying. “Who are you talking about?”
The TreeKeeper moves aside, revealing a doorway in the Bridge Tree’s trunk. Through it, a human steps into the clearing.
A young woman, with beautifully flowing hair. She has piscine nares and fins along her arms. Light, airy material covers her from the shoulders down, wrapped around her body. An enchanting calm emanates from her. She is ethereal and sublime.
The woman turns to Rafael and smiles. “Rafa. You’ve found me.”
Rafael’s mouth locks and his throat dries entirely. His heart rate quickens and sweat breaks out along every inch of his body. Emotions find their way up to his eyes, burning his tears out.
The memories of this young woman flood into his mind. Moments she cared for him, moments she taught him life lessons, moments of the love they shared. The energy pulses wildly and powerfully around his body, yet he’s stuck, still.
All he can do is hope the apparition is real.
“Joaquina,” he whispers. No other words come to him.
She approaches him and wraps her arms around him, and he melts into her embrace.
Warmth rises from her body, and he takes in her scent, exactly as he remembers it. She holds him like no time has elapsed since he lost her.
Like he’s fifteen again.
Rafael leans back, separating himself from her a bit so he can look into her eyes. Slowly, he reaches a hand up and touches her hair, then her cheeks and her shoulders, and finally holds her hands.
Every blink unleashes new tears. His lip quivers and his hands shake. He tries to swallow but his throat won’t allow it.
“It’s really you,” he squeezes out. He throws his arms around her and embraces her again, this time with all of the strength he has, as if he’s compensating for eight years of lost embraces. He buries his face in her neck and her hand rises to caress the back of his head.
It isn’t long before his grief enters the clearing through wailing sobs. He feels empty and full, light and heavy, mournful and elated. Words evade him as he soaks in the miracle standing before him.
Through his tears and sobs, only two words escape his lips.
“I’m sorry.” What the utterance lacks in volume, it counterbalances with the colossal weight of his self-loathing. “It’s my fault.”
She releases him from the embrace and looks on him with confusion, reaching up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “What’s your fault?”
“I was Dad’s undersoldier. If I had gone”—he takes a deep breath to compose the rest of his sentence—“you would still be alive.”
Joaquina shakes her head and smiles. “Rafa, have you been living with this all these years? Why are you holding this burden in your heart?”
She pulls his forehead down to her lips, then runs her thumb lovingly along his cheek. “I chose to fight. To protect you. I’m your sister, that’s my duty. And I would do it again. Over and over. I would die a thousand deaths to keep you safe.”
At a loss for words again, he melts into a loud howl.
“Death was painless, like falling asleep. But now I realize I’ve missed years of your life. That is painful.”
Her voice gets softer as she struggles to speak, tears twinkling from the edges of her eyes. “And I know I’m going to miss more. I won’t get to see you grow old. I won’t get to see you become the man I always knew you would be one day. I don’t regret dying, Rafa. I just regret not being able to love you for longer than the time I was given.”
“You can’t go,” Rafael says. He grips her shoulders tightly. “I won’t let you go again.”
Joaquina takes Rafael’s hands. “That’s the problem. You never let me go in the first place. Look over there.”
She gestures to an opening in the clearing between two wide trees. The space begins to glow with the brightness of the suns.
“That is the world beyond. For eight years, I’ve felt it tugging at me. I yearn for the eternal peace that awaits me.” She looks back up at Rafael. “But I’ve been stuck here.”
She places her forehead against his and they close their eyes as she whispers to him. “You have to let me go. I miss you, too, but this isn’t natural for me. I need to move on.”
She caresses the bracelet on his wrist. “Keep this with you always. It is a small part of me that will remind you of the big sister you had. The sister who loved you more than her own life.”
Rafael’s heart shatters at her words. It feels as though he’s losing her all over again.
“I haven’t been the same since I lost you, Joaquina. I’m empty.”
Joaquina places her hand over his heart. “I’m right here. I’m always right here. But you have to promise me something.”
Rafael nods.
“Forgive yourself.”
Her fingers trace his hands and forearms gently, and as they pass over the bloody visions anchoring Rafael’s guilt to his heart, the red vanishes. His skin is clean again—unblemished as the days when Joaquina was alive.
She continues. “It feels like you’ve been waiting for me to forgive you. But you have to forgive, Rafa. What happened to me was not your fault. Promise me that you will forgive yourself.”
Hesitantly and reluctantly, he nods again.
“I live in your heart now, Rafa. Don’t make it a dark and sad place. Fill it up with light and love. Give me a nice home.”
Joaquina’s smile fades and the bright opening in the clearing begins to pulse. The TreeKeeper appears next to her and water builds in Joaquina’s eyes.
“I have to go now.”
Rafael shakes his head, the feeling of a thousand arrows burrowing through his chest. “I need more time.”
She places her hand over his heart again and repeats, “I’m always right here.”
He nods and releases her shoulders.
For the first time in eight years, he lets her go.
“I feel so lucky that, even if it was only for a short while, I was your sister.”
“I was the lucky one,” Rafael replies. “I never deserved a sister like you.”
“It’s time to say goodbye. Let’s do it properly this time.”
They embrace again and Rafael holds onto her as tightly as he can, as if it will, in some way, keep her there with him.
But he knows it won’t. He knows that the universe, or perhaps the Radiance, has given him the opportunity to say goodbye one final time—to get the closure he needs to move forward.
“I love you so much,” he whispers into her ear.
She squeezes him tighter as she says, “I love you, too. Live your life and let me rest.”
Rafael releases her, stepping back. She is smiling and beautiful, just as he remembered her. As he’ll always remember her.
Joaquina strides to the light between the trees. It reaches out and, finally, accepts her. Rafael’s heart melts and he can feel it instantly: Joaquina’s final peace. She’s exactly where she belongs.
She’s gone home.
Rafael drops to his knees and Kyoko wraps her arms around him. He allows his body to fall limply into her, sobbing quietly.
The TreeKeeper approaches them. “I am ready to answer the questions you’ve come to ask regarding Drof-Fa, the MegaMother.”
Kyoko’s forehead scrunches as she addresses the entity. “How do you know we have questions?”
“I was forewarned of your arrival,” she repeats.
“What can you tell us about how the MegaMother perished?”
The TreeKeeper’s hateful, crimson eyes soften, relaying pain and suffering. Her indifferent stance dissolves into one of shyness. She looks down at the ground by her feet.
“The MegaMother never perished.” Her sad, lonely eyes meet Kyoko’s. “I was Drof-Fa, the MegaMother.”