The sweet, ashen scent of incense filled the air. Sunlight glinted off the shrine’s dark red tiles, while golden flames blazed merrily upon dry cherrywood.
“Traditionally, fire is the way we communicate to the dead,” Mei said softly. “Through the holy flames, the spark of life is reborn.”
Eric nodded. It was peaceful here. Not since he left Riverville had he ever felt so calm.
She placed a delicate flower into the flames. It curled up as it dried, black ash replacing pink petals. “My mother loved chrysanthemums. She kept a garden of them on the roof.” The smoke drifted past the dark, glossy stone.
“What do the words say?”
“She wrote them many years ago, and my father had them carved there… do you feel… cold suddenly?” Mei asked, still calmly but suddenly alert.
“He’s here,” Eric replied, standing up. He placed his hand on his sword.
She grabbed his wrist. “You mustn’t draw a weapon. This is holy ground.”
“Is that so?” a new voice said. “Perhaps you would care to step out for a bit.”
“I would rather not,” Eric replied.
The man rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m the tax collector or something. I just want to talk to my dear nephew.”
“Shut up.”
Carl laughed. “Still the same as ever. When are you going to learn that people don’t stop talking just because-”
Eric leapt forward, his hand grasping for his sword, but suddenly he tripped and crashed into the ground. Mei pulled her leg back. “I told you. No weapons.”
Carl laughed before drawing his dagger. “I wasn’t going to do this at first, but I get annoyed at superstitious idiots like you.”
Mei glared at him. “Put that away.”
He shrugged. “Why shou-” Suddenly, he hurled the weapon at her. The blade slammed into her chest, and she dropped to the ground silently.
“Mei!” Eric screamed. She lay still on the ground. Shaking with anger, Eric got to his feet.
“Whoops,” Carl said nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
With a roar of rage, Eric charged forward, his hand reaching for his sword-and finding nothing. He spun around.
Mei stood up, the bloody dagger in her hand, his scabbard in her other. Gold and blue flames rippled around her. “I said… this is holy ground. There must be no weapons.”
“Finally,” Carl said, a dark magic circle forming in his hand. “A real fight.”
Mei closed her eyes. A brilliant heat and a terrible chill flooded through the air, and even Carl took a step back. “This is not a fight.” She opened her eyes again, and they seemed cold and lost. “This is revenge. How dare you disturb the sleep of the dead.”
“The dead are dead.” Carl shrugged. “It’s fine, relax.”
Mei laughed. “I am not so eager to see my daughter join me yet. It’s dark down here, after all.”
Both Carl and Eric froze.
“Is… is she bluffing?” Carl asked hesitantly.
“Bluffing?” Mei-or whatever she was now-laughed again. Then she leapt forward.
Carl fired a dozen blasts of Shadow Magic at her, yet she danced through them with supernatural speed. Her hand closed around his throat, slamming him into the ground. Dark light flashed around them and Carl began to scream. “This is for the dead!”
The screams cut off suddenly.
Eric ran desperately, Mei wrapped in his arms. “That’s enough!” he managed as he dashed down a street. “Get out!”
She blinked. “Wha-?”
“You scared me, damnit,” he said with relief. “You went completely crazy back there!”
“I did?” She seemed confused. “Also, why are you carrying me?”
“It’s…” he gasped for breath. “A long story. I’ll tell you when we’re out of here.”
Fin.