Our ongoing journey under the shimmering heavens, born from fate's layout, has favoured Suzette and me with an archetype of the celestial atmosphere that seems to be acting as a desultory barrier from secularity. My arms encompass Suzette whilst my consequently crossed hands clasp Fayuro's reins. Setting my arms as an equilibrium for a stable complete surveillance, Suzette establishes a brisk but piquant position for any vestige of Shinkirou.
"Over there!" Suzette signals to the ground of a passing desert beneath us.
Blood floods my fingertips, as I regain control of Fayuro, directing it toward Suzette's assertion.
The dragon capriciously swoops down in an avalanche of speed, accelerating every second. Just when the ground lies no more than a whisker away from its hindlegs, it stops; the impact forceful enough to hurl an intermediate person of mediocre strength off by several miles. Fayuro flaps its huge, contractile black wings profusely, proudly suspended over the spot. Suzette and I effortlessly dismount it in midair, observing the landmarks in our vicinity with cautious vigilance.
A boundless maze of enarmoring ancient monuments and artifacts luminously tower over us, anqituated but venerable. In the air, Fayuro encircles us repeatedly, its commanding bearing warning away any threatening presence.
"This is it?" I whisper, aware of the relics' easy disposition to tumble onto us.
"This is it." Suzette replies casually, unmoved by the hazard.
Drawing her flute from her belt of weaponry at her waist, she begins digging into the sand with it, evoking deep patterned marks while doing so. The markings' steady accumulation ends in one conclusion - a symbol, the likes of which I have never perceived before.
"First, the rectangle depicts the desert itself. The two images inside it represent the sun and moon, which correlate to day and night respectively." mutters Suzette as she sketches, "The lines at the four corners of the symbol each indicate a day and a night spent in the desert. After four straight days of pure endurance are up, Shinkirou will appear to the living victims of the sandy wasteland, and only to that individual, at this very location. The zigzagging line penetrating the symbol tells of the victim's various encounters and experiences throughout his or her course of suffering, to his or her destination." she continues, "Thus, being able to fully comprehend Shinkirou's concepts permits involuntary entrance into the latter."
She then starts to invoke a mystical incantation, much like a dithyramb. After which Suzette enacts a dance fit for the emperor himself, also enhancing it with her flute. I gaze amorously at her, recalling how she had bestowed upon me this very lasting impression, at first glance. Every part of Suzette seems to be playing a lucid role in concerting her performance. Her limbs, even her fingers, curve and stretch concisely at all her exemplary movements; her hair streams in perfect synchronization with her bodily executions, never obstructing her, striking a well-balanced internal flow (or in Chinese, "qi"); I'm in awe of her majesty. I only wish we had reconciled with the others, so they can appreciate this as well.
Suzette suddenly stops abruptly; her eyes closed and a perturbing frown on her forehead.
"Suzette..?" I ask, hands already diving inside my shuriken holder.
She blinks and smiles at me in relief.
"Swift, we're here..."
I spin around in disbelief, for a whole village inherited by people had been literally summoned right under my nose, and I didn't even notice it! No longer do these architectures belong to an archaic period, no longer do what I see lay in ruins. A bustling village crammed with hustling villagers had materialized from out of nowhere!
Just then, I feel a nostalgic vibe nearby.
"Tatsu..?"