“Damnit!”

Yoshika swore in frustration as she once again failed to accomplish anything with the piece of divine essence before her. It felt like she was right back where she started—she could take the essence into or out of her dantian, but it remained entirely inviolate to everything else she tried to do to it. Heeding Jianmo’s warning, she had been careful not to try to absorb or cultivate it, but the more she practiced the less she seemed to accomplish. After so much work without anything to show for it, she decided she needed a change of pace. At the rate she was going she’d waste the rest of her time here doing the same thing over and over again.

“Eunae, do you have a minute?”

The princess smiled wryly as Jia’s body approached.

“I’ve got quite an abundance of minutes, Jia—or is it Yoshika still?”

Yoshika shrugged.

“We are Jia, we keep trying to explain that. But to answer your question, yes, we’re still linked. It’s better to practice together if we want to maximize the benefits we get from a place like this.”

“I see. My apologies if I was being insensitive, it’s not the easiest concept to grasp. What can I do for you, Yoshika?”

“It’s fine. We need to take a break from bashing our heads against an invisible wall, or at least approach it from another angle. Could you spare a bit of time to help us out with something?”

Eunae tilted her head curiously.

“There’s not much else to do. What did you have in mind?”

Yoshika paused for a moment, trying to hedge her words.

“Well...it’s been a while since we practiced spiritual resistance, right?”

Eunae’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Oh? You still want to do that? I don’t think it ever really helped you much, did it?”

“Well, it helped you. It was worth it for that, at least. But there was something else—when we used Absolute Awareness as Jia to try to resist your gaze, we heard your spirit half, remember? We think that we’d tried to do...something instinctively and it stopped us. If you’re willing, we’d like to try that again.”

Eunae’s brows furrowed in consternation.

“Hmm, I suppose I’m not against the idea in principle. I trust you not to do anything harmful to me, and beyond my ability to create and control soulfire, I’ve been at a bit of a bottleneck with my ancestral technique. I do worry for your safety, though. What makes you think the results will be any better this time?”

“We’ve gotten a lot stronger since then, and our mastery of Absolute Awareness has improved as well! We’re not entirely certain, but we think we might even be able to resist your gaze entirely.”

Yoshika blushed as Eunae shook her head and giggled.

“What a bold claim! I see your time in the wilderness has done nothing to temper that audacity of yours. Alright, let’s give it a try.”

As they sat down together and prepared, Yoshika spared a thought for her family, wondering how Ja Yun was holding up on her own. She felt bad for leaving the poor girl by herself, but it had been an emergency, and she’d have Hayakawa to support her, at least.

“You’re sure they had malicious intentions?”

Ja Yun shrunk under Hayakawa Kaede’s scrutiny, suppressing the urge to hold Muddy up as a shield between them. Lady Hayakawa had maintained her schedule and come for a training session with Lee Narae when Ja Yun told her about what had happened with her former unit commander.

“N-not certain, no. But they wouldn’t tell me why they were here—only that they’d be back when they had orders that could supersede those of Seong Eunae.”

“That sounds like simple operational security, to me. You’re no longer part of their unit, why would they explain themselves to you?”

Swallowing nervously, Ja Yun tried to find her words, carefully avoiding the harsh glare of the Yamato princess.

“It—it just felt wrong. Han Shin was too happy about it—he’s never happy. I-I’m no good at this sort of thing, it just seemed suspicious. They’re still in charge of security at the embassy, right? Have they...done anything weird?”

Hayakawa shook her head.

“Not that I’ve been made aware of. Though admittedly, my most reliable source of intelligence is currently indisposed.”

Ja Yun cringed.

“S-sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ja Yun. You’re not the one who summoned a tribulation down on my right hand. I’ll take your words under advisement and be wary of the military escort around the embassy. In the meantime, I have to get back.”

“Couldn’t you just...stay?”

Take charge, maybe? Please? I’m not cut out for this! Ja Yun kept the desperate pleading to herself, as Hayakawa sighed.

“I’m sorry, but I have too much to do at the embassy—especially without Rika. I don’t have any resources to spare—although...”

Ja Yun held her breath and hung on Hayakawa’s words.

“I could perhaps spare Hattori Koji. Since Lee Jia and An Eui have been occupied, he’s been left idle. I’m sure he’d appreciate the opportunity to get out of the embassy for a time.”

Ja Yun deflated miserably. What a let down.

“That weird old mortal guy with the origami spirits?”

Hayakawa’s eyes narrowed in a way that sent the wrong kind of shiver down Ja Yun’s spine. She tried to clamp down on her errant feelings—not the time or place!

“Master Hattori is an Onmyouji. You will address him and his Shikigami with the respect that they deserve, am I clear?”

Ja Yun stared straight down at her feet, blushing fiercely.

“Y-yes ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Good. I’ll send him over as soon as I arrive back at the embassy. Thank you for the warning, Miss Ja Yun.”

“Mhm...”

Hayakawa left, and Ja Yun groaned miserably as she sank down into her seat and stared listlessly at her one faithful companion.

“Why am I so useless, Muddy? I don’t suppose you’re willing to take over for me?”

The slimy elemental did not respond, as usual, but Ja Yun nodded sagely as if it had, patting it gently.

“That’s okay, girl. It’s the thought that counts.”

Eunae’s eyes opened in slow motion, and Yoshika put every ounce of her focus into observing as much as she could about herself and Eunae with the help of her mental technique. In an instant, a powerful domain laying dormant within the princess’ soul lanced out, piercing Yoshika’s domain effortlessly to use her attention to find its way to her soul and latch onto it tightly.

Remembering her training—both with Eunae, and her friend Yan Yue—Yoshika reflexively tried to use her domain to cut off the opening and prevent it from causing any further damage, but the thread of influence moved fast. Its grip on her soul tightened, slipping into old grooves as Yoshika felt her focus wavering. The world slowly dropped away around her, and she struggled to keep her grip on reality. Those eyes were so beautiful. Why was she trying to fight? It would be so much easier to just—

No! Yoshika grit her teeth, biting down on one of her tongues and drawing blood—she didn’t have the mental wherewithal to pay attention to which one. Eunae’s eyes were beautiful, and she would do nearly anything for her friend—but only because she was a friend. The influence trying to tighten its grip around Yoshika’s soul wasn’t Eunae. It might be part of her, but it didn’t act on her behalf.

Following her own suppressed instincts, some unfamiliar part of Yoshika reached out along that thread of influence. Slowly at first, tentatively—shuddering like an atrophied limb, or a newborn deer struggling to its feet for the first time. She could feel her mind buckling under the pressure. Nothing was left except for Yoshika and Eunae, and Yoshika could feel her focus slipping further away with each moment. How long had it been? A second? An hour? Why was she fighting? Eunae was everything to her. She should just let—

Oh? Hello there.

A breakthrough. Everything fell away—Eunae, Yoshika, their surroundings, her thoughts. Everything disappeared except for those eyes. A blue as deep as the ocean and bright as the sky, taking up every part of her world—occupying every thought. Then, the pressure let off and Yoshika felt her thoughts returning to herself. The eyes became normal eyes again, and Eunae took form around them—no, not Eunae. Something else, wearing her appearance.

At a glance, it was exactly like Eunae, but the way she carried herself was wrong, the predatory look in her eyes was one that Yoshika’s friend would never have, and she had three times the normal number of tails. She was also, to Yoshika’s consternation, entirely nude—though two of her tails curled forward to give her a hint of modesty. The fox spirit tilted her head in a painfully familiar gesture of curiosity.

“Well, if it isn’t the little cat burglar? And you’ve brought a friend. What are you doing back so soon? I believe I told you that you were a few millennia early to be trying to rob me.”

“Jump! Sit! Roll over! Uh...do nothing and wobble indistinctly!”

Muddy did nothing and wobbled indistinctly. Ja Yun conjured up a tiny mote of mud-element ki in her fingertips and pet the elemental on the...blob. It happily gobbled up the offering of mana then returned to its usual passive state.

“Good girl!”

Ja Yun’s extremely important and effective slime training was interrupted by a polite cough, and she turned to grimace irritably at the old man that had recently invaded her life.

“Miss, if I may offer a suggestion—perhaps rewards should be saved for desirable behavior.”

She clicked her tongue.

“Muddy did what I said, didn’t she?”

Hattori’s blank stare was too much for Ja Yun to handle so she averted her eyes, returning her attention back to her goopy friend.

“Whatever. It’s not like I actually expect anything out of this. I’m just managing my stress.”

“Of course, Miss. And I don’t begrudge you that. However, if you put forward your best efforts you may find the fruit of your labor to be much more satisfying.”

Ja Yun sighed. She didn’t want to be rude, but Hattori Koji could be so...preachy. He reminded her way too much of her dad.

“What’s the point? Elementals are intelligent, but they’re not humanly intelligent. They understand the world differently from us. Even the xiantian ones struggle to communicate properly, so what chance is poor little Muddy gonna have? She’s just a little pile of goop—barely even at the first stage.”

“You sell both her and yourself short.”

Hattori chuckled as Ja Yun sent him a withering glare. No surprise there—her best glare probably looked like a pleading kitten. Hattori lowered himself slowly to the ground on the opposite side of Muddy and gave her a patronizing smile.

“You know, the way you describe elementals reminds me of kami. They don’t communicate with words. They can only understand us through prayers and feelings, and it can be difficult to make sense of their responses—when they deign to attempt communication at all. Yet, my people have made the effort to connect with such spirits, and reaped the rewards. It is by their grace that my people can prosper without the protection of great shield formations or powerful cultivation sects.”

Ja Yun stared blankly at the old priest while she idly poked and prodded at Muddy, entertaining herself with the way it rippled and wobbled under her touch.

“Your point? You want me to make up for a whole nation’s entire history of coming to an understanding with alien creatures? I’m just one mage, and not even a very good one.”

Hattori laughed and shook his head.

“That’s not what I’ve heard, nor what I’ve witnessed! It’s also not what I’m suggesting. You are a bright young lady of incredible talent, and you are no mere mage! You have what only a few others can boast of—the ability to bridge the gaps between body, mind, and soul. I have seen first-hand with little Heian just how much can be accomplished by such an ability.

“Consider this—if kami like Heian are beings entirely of the soul, then what of elementals? It stands to reason, I think, that they are beings of the mind! Kami understand prayers and feelings, so what, then, do you suppose an elemental understands?”

Ja Yun frowned, staring down intently at Muddy. Lee Jia had been trying to get Muddy to understand words, and Ja Yun had just followed along with it because it seemed fun. But the more she thought about it, that didn’t make sense. It was putting the cart before the horse. How could they expect the elementals to understand them when they hadn’t been making any attempt to understand the elementals? They had been focusing on only half of the puzzle.

The more she thought about it, Ja Yun had never seen elementals speaking to each other, yet they still coordinated with each other, and seemed to follow some kind of hierarchy. How was that possible? Unless, like spirits, they communicated without words! Ja Yun remembered her awakening—the strange ‘voice’ that hadn’t been a voice at all. The intense feelings that she’d subconsciously tried—and failed—to translate into words.

Was that how elementals communicated? Or was there more to it? Ja Yun focused on the elemental in front of her as she conjured another mote of essence into her finger. She watched through all of her metaphysical senses as Muddy reached out for it. She could see the pseudopod, but the limb wasn’t really Muddy—the physical manifestations were just shielding to protect the core that housed the real elemental. Muddy was the mana reaching out for the essence she offered, carrying the physical manifestation with it.

On a wild, irrational impulse, Ja Yun reached out with her own aura—or whatever the part of her that once represented her mind had become since her reawakening—and met Muddy’s outstretched limb with her own metaphysical self.

Immediately she was assaulted by flashes of memory she had no context for. They were as bizarre and alien as the concepts that had come from her soul during her awakening, but not the same. Those concepts had carried deep and complicated emotions behind them, but what Ja Yun experienced was nothing but pure information. Nonsensical information that she had no idea what to make of, but information nonetheless.

As she tried to parse through the strange, foreign thoughts, one stood out—larger, more powerful, and more coherent than anything else. A message, or perhaps a warning. There was no emotion behind it—and the being that left it was probably incapable of emotion in the first place. It was a simple fact, surprisingly plain and direct, yet absolutely terrifying. Ja Yun broke off contact with Muddy and stood up straight, already feeling her panic growing as she scrambled to...to what? What could she even do? Hattori noticed her panic and stood as well, reaching out to attempt to calm her.

“Miss Ja Yun?! What’s wrong? What happened?”

Ja Yun whirled around, and met the eyes of the old priest. Her only hope. Her one lifeline in the ocean of confused panic and anxiety.

“They—they’re going to overthrow the palace. Ancestors! They’re going to take over the entire country!”

“Who?!”

Ja Yun glanced down at Muddy. The cute little pile of goop continued to wobble as if it hadn’t been the harbinger of the most horrifying moment of her entire life. ‘Emissary’ indeed.

“The elementals.”