Chapter 4: 3. An Understanding

3. An Understanding

"Here." Wysteria chimed, and passed Shen the book that suddenly appeared in her hands. "The Estate handbook. It's got some history in it, and you can use it to learn more vocabulary."

Shen nodded and flipped through the pages, scanning every line. It had been several days since he first spoke to Wysteria, but his language skills were improving much faster than she had expected. She had started by pointing out parts of the room they were in and having him repeat them after her, but they quickly ran out of new things to dictate, so Wysteria conjured the handbook that all Passers are given when they arrive at the 1st Face. 

Looking at the handbook had brought Wysteria back to the first day she had set foot on the Estate, and reminded her of how intimidated she had been. Not only by the building itself, but even the number of participants that had arrived had been overwhelming. When she, along with some hundreds of others that had amassed from the underground, arrived at the 1st Face, she was already looking for an exit. Unfortunately for her, not a single one was in sight.

Instead, bright milky-blue skies blinded Wysteria when she first arrived. It stretched out in front of her, painting the majority of what she could see in wisps of white and candy-blue. The intensity of the sky was almost enough to distract Wysteria from the commotion that had begun to stir within the others around her, but her attention was pulled away by a book that had fallen in front of her, hitting the ground with a soft thud. And then by the numerous other books that also thudded down around her.

"Do you know how many floors there are?" Shen asked, his eyes still glued to the handbook. Then, both eyes rolled up to where Wysteria was sitting, and Shen cleared his throat. 

"Oh!" Wysteria jumped, smiling sheepishly. "What? Did you say something?"

Shen snorted and asked again, turning his attention back to the words in front of him. "And, how many have even made it up there? Do they come back down?"

Wysteria curled her lips in and pulled a thoughtful face. "I've never reached the top but I assume there's around a thousand Faces all together, although don't quote me on that." She said as she leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "People go up and come down all the time. It's pretty easy, once you know where the gate is."

"Do you want to get to the top?" Shen asked offhandedly. 

"It would be an accomplishment, that's for sure." Wysteria chuckled. "I don't really have any big, fulfilling reason to though. I just want to help my friends get there. Better up here than elsewhere."

"The friends that left you?" Shen quipped.

Wysteria shook her head. "They didn't leave me, I told them to go. Staying here wouldn't have helped anyone. Besides, it's not like I needed any help. You're not that intimidating."

It took a moment for Shen to process the last part of what she said, but once he did, he turned to her with a mildly irritated expression. "You're not that intimidating." He repeated, mockingly. 

Wysteria gasped, seemingly hurt, before falling into a heap of laughter. It had caught Shen off-guard, to say the least. Her cheeks flushed as she giggled breathlessly, and Shen couldn't help but stare at the woman. His vision was entirely captured by the rosy hue that blossomed across her face, his attention focused on the way the air occasionally got trapped in between her nose and mouth, forcing out shocking little snorts that he found himself finding cute. 

When Wysteria's laughter had tapered off, Shen found himself hiding behind the pages of the handbook. He would look at her all day if he could, instead of squinting at squiggles on a page. She had a face that made him search for something in her expression, either a secret smile or a hidden scowl. It was such a contrast from how he had seen her before, and Shen was immediately conflicted by the acknowledgement of his newfound feelings. 

In the years that Shen had been alive, he had never found himself thinking about someone as he did about Wysteria. He didn't have anything to compare it to, which made categorising his emotions all the more difficult. Shen knew he shouldn't trust her; she was, after all, seemingly friendly with the one that captured him. But, since being released from the box, she had only been kind to him. Unlike that brute of a woman, who happily knocked him out whenever she could.

"Minth's actually not that bad. To me, at least. She might have a thing against dragons?" Wysteria shrugged, giving Shen another smile. "Don't worry, she won't hurt you again. I'd stop her."

This time, Shen laughed. "She is very strong. Are you also very strong?"

"Stronger than her, that's for sure." Wysteria huffed, acting offended. "Stronger than you too, probably."

"At full strength, I could knock you down with a sneeze." Shen said instantly. 

Waving her hand in front of her face, Wysteria laughed. "It was a joke. I know you'd be much stronger than me, if it weren't for all this." She said, gesturing to his prison. "But, here we are. So, I'll protect you."

The words made Shen's cheeks flush. In all his years alive, this was the first time he had ever heard someone say that to him. It could be attributed to the fact that he had been alone for a number of years and therefore had no one around him to say those things. Or, perhaps it was because the words were coming from someone who appeared so much weaker than him. The thought of her defending him made Shen's stomach flip. 

"Are you alright, Shen?" Wysteria's voice cut through Shen's inner thoughts, her face suddenly appearing in front of his. "You seem a bit red. Are you warm?" Her hand reached to his forehead, although never reaching it as Shen grabbed her wrist before she could touch him. 

"It's nothing." Shen said, his lips tight. 

Wysteria gave him a funny look, but withdrew her hand from his grasp. As she did so, a purple glimmer appeared from her palm, materialising a chess board in front of them. The pieces stood there in two neat lines on either side of the board, the blacks in front of her and the whites in front of him. 

"Do you know how to play?" Wysteria asked. 

*

Thinking about Wysteria made Minth laugh, more than she'd like to admit. There was something about her confidence, her light-hearted tone, that made Minth want to keep talking to her about even the smallest of things. She reminded her of herself, Minth had discovered, and found herself wondering what it was like to be her friend. 

It would be a lie to say that Minth didn't miss her own friends. They had climbed together for as long as she could remember, and this was the first time they had ever been apart for this long. She knew it was worth it, but Minth couldn't help but pout as she kicked around the leaves on the forest floor. 

Despite how high up the pods seemed to be, it took Minth no time at all to reach the ground. The illusion, she discovered, worked from both ends, as Minth tipped her head up to barely make out the faint outline of the pod she had jumped out of getting smaller and smaller. It was, Minth considered, a clever way to deter vertigo-ridden pests from venturing down to the forest floor. 

Luckily for Minth, she enjoyed heights. She had never been afraid of swinging down from any distance, and excitedly sought after the feeling of one's stomach rising to their throats. It was probably a side-effect of being from the outer ring, a characteristic of the barbarians, as Wysteria had called her. At that thought, Minth lifted her arm and sniffed her clothes, nodding proudly to herself for her lack of bad odour. 

From the corner of her eye, a movement caught Minth's attention, and she dropped her arms to the hilt of her blade. The bushes in front of her rustled against the breeze, shaking the vibrant green leaves unnaturally as Minth lifted her scimitar above her shoulder. She crept towards it, quietly, one foot on the heel of the next, holding her breath.

In one swift motion, Minth pulled apart the clusters of branches with one hand, her other poised and ready to strike Though, the strike never came. Instead of a threat, Minth found herself facing a small, furry creature, who had been digging up the pale green tops of mushrooms that hid beneath the soil. The creature scurried away at the commotion, gliding up a nearby tree with ease. Minth watched it as it ran away and sheathed her scimitar once again. 

"Not hungry?" A voice called out. 

Minth twisted around, tense and anticipating. The voice appeared to be without body, since there was no one within sight, and Minth shifted her eyes in as many directions as she could. "I'm vegetarian." She called out, hoping to pinpoint the voice from their response. 

But, the voice didn't respond. Instead, Minth heard a thump behind her as the body of the furry creature fell at her feet. Lifeless and still, its amber fur was matted with rusty splotches of blood that dripped from its neck, highlighting the fact that the creature was now without a head. 

Minth spat on the floor and kicked the body away. "Like I said, I'm vegetarian." Minth said, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

To Minth's surprise, the voice replied. "Vegetables can't be good for you. No, a growing girl like you needs meat to get stronger." The words drifted to Minth with the breeze, making its source impossible to locate. It felt like the voice was coming from everywhere, all at once. 

"If you come out, we can put that to the test." Minth challenged, relaxing her shoulders slightly. 

She had not expected to meet anyone while she was down here, but the secrets of the Estate were impetuous and infinite, so she embraced the fact with open arms. There must be some reason for someone to be down here, and Minth was more than happy to find out what that reason was. After all, knowledge was just as useful as strength. 

"You cannot possibly beat me." The voice laughed, amusement curling in his words. "Although, I admire your courage."

As the voice spoke, Minth heard each word get heavier. The weight that came behind them led her eyes in a particular direction as they scanned across the visually empty forest, towards a tree trunk to the side that appeared to have grown more outwards instead of up. Its thick, gnarled roots spread out wildly, twisting around the smaller saplings and vegetation around it. 

Minth silently crept towards it, her lower lip in between her teeth. Her footsteps were muted by the deliberate steps she was taking on the soil, and she peeked around the tree thinking herself to have been quite the sneak. That was, until she realised that nothing was there. 

"You're not as quiet as you think you are, dear." The voice said from behind her. 

Spinning around, Minth lifted her blade, only to have it swing out of her grip and pierce into an adjacent tree. Her eyes darted to it, then to the source of the voice that now stood directly in front of her. 

He was the same height as her, although slightly hunched, and wore a neat cigarette-grey suit that made him look even slimmer than he was. His slicked back hair and earrings suggested to Minth that he dressed to impress, which was already uncommon in the Estate since Passers were usually more worried about surviving than how they looked. Minth couldn't help thinking that if it wasn't for that sewn-closed eye, she would have found this man to be quite handsome. 

"And, here I thought I was being just quiet enough." Minth scoffed. Without blinking, she pulled a hidden blade from her waistband and let the tip of its serrated edge hover a thread's distance away from the man's chest. "How else was I supposed to lure you out?"

The man paused. Then, looked down at the blade pointed at him, and pulled back laughing. "Alright, you win. You're very fast." He finally said, his words coloured impressed. 

Minth took a half-step back and recalled her scimitar to her hand, tucking the smaller blade away. "Who are you?" She asked, tapping the ground with the pointed end. 

"Armand Rose, my dear. And, what might your name be?" He put his hand to his chest and bowed. Minth couldn't tell if it was out of politeness or mockery.

"Minth." She put her fingers to her chin, thoughtfully. "Rose? You're a Lord then, I take it?"

A smile curled the ends of Armand's lips. "Ah, my reputation precedes me."

"I don't know what kind of reputation you have." Minth snorted. "But, I know that Lords have a flower name, so it's easy maths."

Armand chuckled at the observation. "Very astute. I suppose I should be grateful you don't know about me." He leaned in and continued, in a whisper. "I wonder if I should change that?" 

The instant Armand moved closer, Minth retracted. "Are all Lords this comfortable with invading personal space?" She asked, gripping the hilt of her blade tighter. "Why are you here?"

Where others may have been offended by the way Minth reacted, Armand just stood up straighter and straightened his collar. "As it just so happens, I was looking for you. Those trees seem like a loathsome climb. How lucky for me that you came down." 

"What can I do for you, then?" There was curiosity laced in Minth's voice, but she maintained her cautious approach towards the strangely well-dressed man. It was easy to keep her attention on him; she couldn't take her eyes off his pristine suit, and wondered how there could be not a single dirt stain in sight.

"The better question may be, what can we do for you?" Armand hummed, smiling a crooked smile. "We heard about your brother. Such a shame that he was put away. And, so far down at that."

The mention of Minth's brother made her stiff. "What do you know about my brother?" She said through her teeth. 

"That he's here, among other things. Although where, I'm sure you have no clue." Armand inspected his red-painted nails uninterestedly. "Would you like to know?" He asked, teasingly.

Minth looked at him with a sceptical gaze. "What's the catch?"

Armand gasped, feigning hurt. "No catch, dear. My only concern was letting an innocent man rot away in a keyless prison. It's about time someone got him out."

"How come you haven't yet?" Minth retorted. She could feel the metal against her palm get hot, but she didn't loosen her grip. 

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"Oh, I am a courageous man, but I don't need insubordination to be my downfall. No, it wouldn't be impactful if I did it." Armand looked at Minth, eyes squinted. "But, if you did, wouldn't that just be sensational? So much emotion, so much hope. It would be in the news for weeks!"

Minth's eyes almost rolled out of her head. Despite not wanting to waste another breath continuing their conversation, Minth had been walking around for hours, unsure of what she was even looking for. It wouldn't hurt to get a lead, she thought, even if it was coming from an overly enthusiastic Lord. 

"Where is he, then?" Minth asked, stepping closer. 

Her approach was mirrored by Armand and they stood almost a breath apart, a fire lit behind both pairs of eyes as they took each other in. Where Minth had been thrown off by the mention of the brother she had not heard about in so long, she was also curious to know who this man was. She wondered why freeing her brother was so important, especially to this man who had come all the way to Imonso's neck of the woods. 

Breaking the silence, Minth wondered out loud. "Did you and my brother have a thing?" 

The question made Armand pull back and let out another string of chuckles. "He wishes we had a thing, dear. No, I am merely facilitating the rightful removal of a decent person. Something the upper Faces find themselves lacking in these days." He sighed, pulling a hand through his slick hair. 

The dejected look on Armand's face left as quickly as it came, but Minth didn't notice. She only found herself wondering if he paid someone to clean his suit, or if he took up the responsibility himself. "Are you a decent person?" Minth asked instead.

"As decent as they come, my lady." He replied, the answer rolling off Armand's tongue like honey. 

"Then tell me why you're interested in my brother."

Armand smirked at Minth, who only narrowed her eyes in response. "Who wouldn't be interested in one of the Primaries? They are but the first to have climbed this treacherous construction." He tugged at his sleeves, shifting from one foot to the next. "Surely, you know of his reputation?"

"Only that he's never come home." Minth said, her vision blurring at the thought of her family on the outer ring. "It wasn't until I entered the Estate that I found out he was here."

"And, you're here to free him. How admirable. I'm sure your parents must be proud." 

Minth scoffed. "Who said I was here to free him?"

Armand's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not?"

"My answer depends on who I'm talking to." She answered, before turning away from Armand to walk in the opposite direction. "If you tell me where he is, you can see for yourself what I'm here to do."

The proposal bounced around in Armand's mind for a while as he picked up his speed to match Minth's. "You are... more interesting than I was led to believe." He mused. "I don't see why not. Here's my first hint, you're going in the wrong direction."

Minth turned on her heels instantly, and Armand, who had been following her quite closely, jumped at the sight of her face so near to his. Her bold features were so rarely seen on the upper Faces, Armand didn't notice how long he had been staring at her until she furrowed her eyebrows in what he could only describe as annoyance. 

"Are you actually here to stand in my way?" Minth asked, side-stepping the man. 

Armand thought about the question, then responded. "...No?" 

But, Minth was already too far away from him to hear. And, by the time Armand had caught back up to her, it was clear that she didn't care about the answer. Determination was etched into her face like a sculpture, and her feet moved swiftly, one in front of the other. Leaves kicked around them, almost as if they recognised her urgency and were forming a path. 

"Were you and your brother close?" Armand called out suddenly.

Minth slowed at the question, but kept looking ahead. "Not really. We- my parents just worry about him. He used to send souvenirs from each Face he visited, but for the last few years we only received money."

"Is getting money not good?" 

"Of course money is good." Minth said, snorting. "It was just... off."

Armand nodded. "Do you think he'll be happy to see you?" He asked. 

That's when Minth stopped. She turned to him with hints of rage bubbling beneath her skin. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't he?"

"Oh! I didn't mean it offensively." Armand stumbled, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just wonder if he wants to be saved."

"Weren't you the one raving about his innocence?" Minth rebutted. "Why wouldn't an innocent man want to be freed?"

There was silence for a moment, as Armand curled his tongue inside his mouth, trying to find the right words. It didn't help that Minth was glaring at him, her red-speckled eyes glowing with anticipation as she waited for him to answer. There was, after all, only so much he was allowed to divulge.

"Innocence, my dear, is subjective. We believe his imprisonment to have been a gross mismanagement of authority, but he might not. What if-"

"What if he's there voluntarily?" Minth whispered, her eyes wavering. 

She clenched her fists and considered what Armand was suggesting. Minth didn't know her brother well enough to claim to know how he felt. She only knew how her parents felt, and how desperate they were to know that he was alright. Desperate enough to send their daughter after him, even if that meant never seeing her again either. The more she thought about it, the angrier Minth got. 

"That arrogance is none of my business." She said, finally. "I was tasked with finding him, to make sure he's alive or find out if he's dead. I could care less about his happiness."

Armand blinked once, and then again. On the third blink, a smug grin appeared on his face, stretching from ear to ear. He seemed pleased with Minth's response, and his shoulders relaxed as he began to walk in yet another direction. He turned to the woman, who had started to get annoyed at the realisation that Armand had been pulling her leg for some time now, and gestured at her to follow him. 

*

"I don't understand." Shen huffed, his tone similar to a child's who was just told that fire wasn't only pretty, but dangerous. "Where does it go?"

They were discussing the conjuring up of food, board games and other miscellaneous items that Wysteria was capable of. Shen was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that Wysteria had the seemingly magical ability to open a space into another dimension to store things.

"You don't believe that, but you can fly? Create sharp little ice needles from the air?" Wysteria tipped her head back, laughing. "I heard you can do all sorts."

"But, that's different. We are born with that. " Shen said, pouting. "When you entered here, you could just do it?"

Wysteria wiped a tear from her eye. It was amusing to hear the clueless tone on the brooding face of an ancient dragon, something she had not even heard stories of. It made sense that he wouldn't understand; he had told her of his solitude, carelessly spending his days on the peaks of some mountain in the outer ring, isolated from the rest of the world. He had not foreseen outliving his species, so he had not considered the need to worry about them as they failed to return home from their adventures. At one point, he thought they all left because they got tired of him. But, after the first hundred years, he got over it.

When he stopped telling his story, Wysteria found herself encouraging him to speak more. She was fascinated by him. By the way he spoke about the smallest of details with the utmost enthusiasm, as if they were what gave his life meaning. It was refreshing to talk to someone who looked at a moment in slow-motion, picking out every quirk they saw or felt, instead of other Passers who only seemed to look ahead. Soon, she found herself getting lost in his voice.

Of course, there were some conversations that were just too funny a sight to miss, like this one. The more she talked to him, the more she wished for their background to melt away, for the earthy colours around them to swirl into themselves and blend into nothingness. For the conditions of their meeting to just disappear. She wished they had met somewhere else, without the pressures of their reality weighing heavily on them like a chain.

Though Imonso had not told her explicitly, it was obvious where Shen's life would go from here. Anything the Founder laid eyes on became his, and Shen would be no exception. Dragons, however, were known for their sly and cunning natures, and the Founder knew better than to take in an unruly beast, so Imonso was given the arduous task of breaking the dragon's spirit. Then, Imonso had ungratiously given that task to her. 

In the hours that they spent together, playing games and discussing their lives, Wysteria had forgotten about her mission. Enamoured by his confident naïveté, she learned more about herself through their conversation. Questions of why she was doing what she was doing were answered, and Wysteria found her reality crashing down on her once again. 

"What's so special about dragons, anyway?" She asked as she played with the stems of the berries she had brought. 

"What's not special about them?" Shen replied, shooting her a cocky smile. "I'll tell you if you tell me where all that magic comes from."

Wysteria sighed, but happily indulged him with the rules of the Estate. "It's called nuclear energy, and it's given by the Face."

"Face? This place?"

Wysteria nodded. "The Face itself gives out energy. Nucleus can either be earned through challenges, or given."

"What, you can ask for it?" Shen scratched his head, confused by the notion. 

"Sure. Some people ask. Although, not all that ask are rewarded." Wysteria popped another piece of fruit in her mouth as she continued. "Depends on how the Face is feeling. But everyone gets a pocket to put things in when they arrive, since bringing stuff through Faces isn't possible."

Shen also took a piece of fruit and chewed it thoughtfully. "How do you travel through Faces?" He asked. 

"Hey." Wysteria pointed at him, eyes squinted. "I thought it was your turn to answer a question? Tell me, what's so special about dragons?" 

Shen put one finger up. "One, dragons can fly." He put another up. "Two, our scales can cure all sickness." Then, he stuck out his thumb and winked. "Three, we're incredibly handsome."

Melodic laughter filled the pod, and Shen smiled at the sight. He had noticed that she had been deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed and forehead starting to crinkle, and was pleased with himself for bringing her out of it. Shen wondered if she'd tell him what she was thinking about, if he asked. But before he could, Wysteria started answering the question he had asked, by asking a question in return. 

"How is it that your language skills have improved so much, and yet I know it's not because you read the handbook? You would have read the part about finding openings." She laughed as she conjured the thin paperback, waving it next to her. "I guess dragons aren't known for their intelligence." 

A leaf then blew through the open arches of the pod, swirling through the air between them. It flipped and twisted in and out of the room so comically, Wysteria's eyes stayed glued to it as did its little dance and disappeared once again into the rustling trees around them. 

Shen had noticed the leaf too, but he felt the vibrations in the floor first. Deep under the intertwined bark and roots of the tree they were atop of, the earth grumbled. There was an unsettling novelty to the feeling that Shen was unfamiliar with, but he knew that something was going to happen and braced himself for it. Wysteria looked at him as he got to his feet, eyes wide with curiosity. 

"What's wrong?" She asked, standing up as well. 

When Shen opened his mouth to reply, he found that he couldn't. Instead, the air was sucked out as his body hurdled into the branch-woven ceiling of the pod. Wysteria's body did the same, as both of them, and everything inside, jolted upwards instantly. 

Wysteria, having been hit with the edge of the chess board, recalled all her items amidst the sudden change of gravity and looked for Shen. She had found him not far away and in the same predicament as her. It seemed as though flying didn't help much against the relentless push of the forces. Wysteria looked through the window and, in only seeing random blurred shapes as they sped by, wondered why the tree was moving up so quickly.

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