Part I; Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kumo was awake and roaming around her small apartment wondering about a peculiar dream she had had the night before. She had dreamed about two women talking to each other, but they weren’t near each other. She wondered how could such a thing be possible; how would the women be able to hear each other? Kumo then dismissed her questions with a shrug, and briefly scolded herself for putting too much thought into her dreams. It was just a dream after all. But it has seemed so real…

Kumo walked to her window and pushed the curtains aside. The sun was rising, and it washed over the city like gold water. The buildings in the city were rather large, with ten to twenty floors each. It was not a huge city, not as big as Tokyo, or Kyoto or anything like that. But, still, it was a city and therefore it had the problems of a city—problems like graffiti, crime, violence and other things Kumo preferred not to think about. Kumo looked around and decided that this part of the city wasn’t that bad—certainly, there were dirtier, nastier places—but then again, she caught herself, this wasn’t the best part either. Kumo usually thought her city wasn’t very pretty, but today, in the wee hours of the morning it seemed almost… innocent. Kumo sighed, remembering that rent for this apartment was due in a week and she was still short. Life was so much harder now. Kumo looked down to the street and desperately hoped she wouldn’t have to move into one of those dirtier, nastier places. But, then, her thoughts were interrupted.

Someone was knocking at her door. Kumo’s eyes were drawn immediately away from the window, a small gasp escaping her at the unexpected noise. It was too early for someone to be here. Kumo, wearing off her momentary surprise, frowned at the door; she didn’t want to open it. But then again, no one really knew about her living here except for the owner of this building. It was probably him. Kumo walked to the door and opened it. She was surprised to find a tall, beautiful woman of about twenty years, she guessed, standing in the threshold. She was dressed all in black, which strangely complimented her smooth milky white skin. Kumo’s attention was immediately brought to a strange marking on the woman’s forehead. It looked like a small black scar in the shape of an oval surrounded by three smaller circles that formed an imaginary triangle when connected. Kumo knew it wasn’t polite, but she couldn’t help but stare at her. The woman’s golden-blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, but two pieces of wavy, soft hair framed both sides of her face. She was the most beautiful woman Kumo has ever seen. Her bright green eyes searched Kumo’s face. "Hello." She said softly but firmly. Kumo had already guessed she was European or American from her appearance, but hearing her speak English was still a little bit of a shock—Kumo had not heard anyone naturally speak English for quite some time. Kumo thought it lucky that she was fluent in English, even if it was a second language.

"Hello…" Kumo replied, making sure to use the proper accent.

"Where are your parents?" The woman asked.

Her parents? A sudden surge of internal pain washed over Kumo. Certainly she could not tell this woman that they…that they… she couldn’t even think it, much less say it. Also, she was only fourteen and if someone found out she wouldn’t be able to live like this anymore. The owner of the building was so nice to her. He had seen that she was smart enough to live on her own and now he would get in trouble…

"I see. They are dead?" The woman asked.

Kumo’s stared at the woman in disbelief.

The woman smiled cryptically, "Don’t be so surprised. Your face gave it away. You live alone, then?"

Kumo could only nod. The woman’s gaze disturbed Kumo slightly, as if it was probing her very soul while keeping locked on Kumo’s eyes. Kumo has always been good at reading people’s expressions, and this woman’s were so subtle. So calculated. Kumo was sure it was only a few moments she was staring, but it seemed like forever. She has lost herself to curiosity. Something was different—but undoubtedly divine—about this woman. Her bearing and countenance had an innate grace that evoked a sense of awe in Kumo. Yet, at the same time, something about this woman seemed familiar, like a scent or object from one’s past that brought only ghosts of memories and shards of coherent thoughts.

Suddenly, the woman lashed out her arm and put it on Kumo’s face, snapping Kumo out of her stupor. Kumo would have responded, but it was all too fast. The woman seemed to defy time and human limitations of speed. Kumo tried to pull away, but the hand held her tight. Something was being transferred into Kumo’s mind. It wasn’t hurting her, but it was frightening. It felt like warm light, or even warm water, was flowing into her mind. Foggy images in front of her face appeared. They started to solidify. These apparitions scared her slightly, but her curiosity won out in the end, and she relaxed. She saw images of another land and its people zoom by at an amazing speed, but she understood it all. She saw children playing together. She saw streets full of busy people socializing and scurrying along. She saw buildings—businesses, homes, schools. Everything looked a little strange, though. The clothes the people were wearing were a little bit odd, and were definitely not what Kumo was used to seeing. Also, the buildings were smaller than those in Kumo’s city and had a different architecture—more suburban looking.

Despite the differences, Kumo knew it was so wonderful there; everyone was happy. She could feel it. How, she did not know, but she was positive. Kumo was not sure how long the visions lasted, but it did not matter. She was so drawn to the images that time simply did not matter. But there was something else she detected, as well. The people themselves—not their clothes or their houses, but the very people themselves—were somehow different. There was some unifying force that they all had, and all were a part of. It was strong, emanating from everyone. Kumo did not know what it was, but it was certainly a good thing.

Another apparition came, pulling Kumo’s attention is a new direction. She saw this woman in front of her sitting in her bed earlier and talking to someone who was far away. It was Kumo’s dream. Only this time it made sense; they were talking through their minds, much like what Kumo was experiencing now. The two women were talking about a ‘new one.’ Kumo knew they were talking about her. She understood. She was to go to this place. Suddenly the link cut off and Kumo gasped for air. She realized only now that she has been so absorbed in the images that she had forgotten to breathe.

The woman stared at her again with her brilliant jade eyes. "Would you like to go there? You are more than welcome," she asked.

Kumo was surprised at herself because she felt then, without a doubt, that she wanted to go. She wanted to. Kumo thought it strange that she would so suddenly want to abandon this world that she grew up in. But it seemed so right. She had no major ties to this world except a few minor friends… and this other world seemed so happy. Also, there was a completely new feeling in her that suddenly yearned for this placed. This woman had sparked it, and now, after seeing images of where she was to go, the feeling was burning inside of her. It wasn’t the feeling of wanting to be happy, but something else Kumo couldn’t quite label. All she knew was that it wanted to be satisfied, and it was ravenous. Kumo knew, as if it were as clear as day, the only was to satisfy its hunger was to go with the woman. This was all so fast, but how could Kumo resist when her whole being wanted this?

Kumo pulled herself out of her thoughts and replied, as it there were no other way, "Yes. More than anything."

Kumo’s voice sounded strange to herself, as if someone entirely new was talking for her.

"Wonderful. What is your name, little one?" The woman inquired.

"My name is Kumo Mashiro… and I’m fourteen. Not so little."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Such courage…" she smiled beautifully, "…that is to be expected. I am Sage Cedira. Nice to meet you."

"And you…" Kumo said vaguely out of politeness.

"Well, Kumo, we must leave right away. Is there anyone you need to say goodbye to?"

Kumo thought quickly and then replied, "Yes, one person. But he is in this building. He’s the one… who lets me live here…"

There was no point in concealing the truth anymore.

"Very well, then, we must leave immediately. You will only need a few changes of clothing," she paused for a moment and then added, "please try not to bring too much."

Kumo got to work. She packed a few changes of clothing, like the woman had told her and also some other necessary supplies as well. It wasn’t hard. It was like packing for a vacation. She caught herself, and her hands stopped.

Kumo knew it was not a vacation. Not at all. She was leaving forever, wasn’t she?



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