Shinki took a step forward, made sure she had all the room required to spread her arms, then focused. The smoky rubble which not long ago been perfect, reflective crystal walls, but which had been clouded over by the fire, rose into the air and compressed into a glowing orb. At the sweep of her arms, it decompressed and reformed into a thick, smooth substance, reflecting the small, unhappy face of the girl standing behind her, tinted in blue.
She shaped the material into a decorative pillar, adding a mosaic of darker blue to the top before breathing out and allowing the heat that escaped from her body at moments of creation to return to her body. The reconstruction had been arduous work, hampered both by the guilt that stemmed from knowing she herself was behind the force which had ravaged her realm, and again when a group of her dissatisfied subjects had suddenly risen up in open revolt. Still, both those events were now history, while Pandemonium would rise again greater than ever like a subterranean phoenix.
If there was one good thing about the destruction, it was the chance to re-imagine Makai. She smiled at Alice, who wouldn't respond in kind, then gestured at her to follow her. They walked past the crystalline benches she had created before Alice's arrival, and to the statues of those who had especially distinguished themselves in the recent fighting.
"It captures her essence, I think," she said, gently stroking the out-stretched arm of the image of Yumeko, swords in hand, poised for battle. Every contour, every feature matched that of the real Yumeko, right down to the curve of her ears which weren't even visible from behind her hair. Naturally, it would have been difficult for the statue to not have been a perfect copy of her most loyal subject: she had created it in the exact same manner as the original, only substituting the material and leaving the new creation without the spark of soul.
Alice didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the statue representing herself, its arms held to the sides, flanked by two fairy dolls which stayed aloft thanks to a current of magic emanating from the base of the statue. As with Yumeko, the likeness was perfect, though the real Alice's hair was far more neatly parted than the wind-tousled curls of the statue.
"Mother?" Her voice was quiet and sullen.
"Yes, darling?"
"Why are you making statues to celebrate when we lost?"
"We aren't celebrating our loss, but our continued survival." A part of her was already considering what kind of patterns she should adorn the freshly raised battlements with. Were spikes too threatening? She wanted something awe-inspiring without the trappings of tyranny. "We are celebrating that we have an opportunity to create everything anew, by taking what we want from the old and ignoring all else."
Alice considered this for a moment, but her expression told Shinki the discussion was far from over. "So we're just going to stay here and let those strangers who invaded us go unpunished? It's their fault Pandemonium was destroyed, Mother. Why don't we attack them back?"
Shinki let out a long-suffering sigh. Alice was her finest creation, a genuine simulacrum of a human not even the greatest of arbiters could tell apart from a natural one, and the only one of her children who took advantage of the privilege of calling their goddess Mother, but she was still young, with the rashness of youth.
"It's dangerous," she replied, feeling a concrete deterrent would serve best under the circumstances. "I can't leave Makai to defeat them, nor would I dream of sending anyone else to that realm after what happened. Besides, I have already sealed the entrance to that Gensokyo." She pursed her lips at the distasteful name. "It bars your exit as much as it blocks their entrance. We're done with that land for good."
Before Alice could protest, she held out her hand. "Come. I have something to show you."
What Alice needed, she thought as they descended down the one hundred and one identical steps modelled after the rifts in the outskirts of Makai, was some kind of a project to take her mind off what had happened. A hobby, perhaps, or better yet, some kind of a responsibility. She was growing fast, differently from most demons, and needed something to keep her occupied.
Once down the steps, she led Alice through a set of pearl-inlaid gates and into the new garden she had put the finishing touches on earlier that morning. Unlike in most of Pandemonium, both old and new, there were virtually no crystals. Lush trees hid the high walls from view, and the grass was so soft walking on it with bare feet felt like a caress. She had chosen the colours of the flowers growing in the massive centrepiece by the pool directly for Alice's benefit: pristine white petals intermingled with the blue of twilight, encircling a magnificent centre of golden roses, which swayed gently in the illusory wind she had allowed into the garden.
She glanced at Alice. She was just as dull-eyed as she had been up at the foyer, but she did at least look around.
"Come here. See? All the trees bear fruit, and you can eat as many as you wish." To showcase this miracle, she walked to the nearest slim-leafed tree and plucked a fruit hiding in the shade. It had the lightest of blue peels, revealing the golden flesh of the fruit within. She showed it to Alice with a smile.
Alice didn't take it. She was no longer looking around and was gazing intently in the direction where the distant path to Gensokyo had stood.
"Alice."
Alice must have have heard from her tone that she was no longer smiling, and attended.
Shinki brought her hands before her and focused. A grimoire of no small age with black covers and gilded embellishments materialised between her palms. She took hold of it with both hands and addressed Alice. "This is one of the few great treasures we have remaining from before the fire. Its loss would be devastating to our culture." She held it out. "Its yours to guard now."
Alice's eyes widened as Shinki placed her index finger on the cover and reshaped the gilding to form words, announcing the grimoire's new ownership for everyone to see. "Mine?"
"I know it will be safer with you than in the library."
With trembling hands, Alice accepted the grimoire.
"However," Shinki continued, "you must never open it. It contains powerful magics which when unleashed can rewrite reality itself. If wielded carelessly, they would wreak untold destruction. Keep it close and safe, and make sure no-one sees so much as a single page."
Alice frowned, but when she nodded her assent, she did so decisively. "I will, Mother."
Shinki smiled and leaned forward to stroke her hair. "I know I can count on you. Enjoy the garden."
She left Alice and walked back to the steps. There was work to be done.
Mai glided across the lake of liquid pearl, thinking how much simpler life had been when she had first witnessed it when exploring the vast expanses of Makai with Yuki. Back then, there had been no question that the vision of beauty had been the creation of the great Lady Shinki, creator of everything including their very souls, and her heart had swelled with gratefulness and joy to be allowed to experience the world.
Now, she saw the lake and remembered how they had all gathered at its shore as Pandemonium burned, Yuki's sweaty hand in hers, the flames reflected in the pale waters as their home was obliterated before their eyes, and how her anger had risen as she thought that Shinki had kept them all in the dark about the true nature of the universe, creating instead pretty distractions to keep them singing her unfailing praise.
Most demons still accepted the fiction that the worlds beyond Shinki's realm were of inferior make, that no city could ever match the pristine glory of Pandemonium and that they themselves were the finest living creatures in the world, but then, Mai had always been the cleverest and most inquisitive of her kind. She had observed the borders of Makai and peered as far into the lands beyond as Yuki would allow before her fearful protests became too loud to ignore. They had been among the first to visit other lands after Shinki had opened the gates, and while Gensokyo was messy and chaotic, there was beauty there, too. She had seen the smile on Shinki's face when they sang her praise, the way she promoted those of her creations she preferred to positions of great honour regardless of merit and talent, and heard Yumeko utter one time too many that Lady Shinki's judgement was beyond all reproach.
Maybe, if Shinki was so eager to maintain status quo, she shouldn't have given them free will.
She dived, correcting her angle as close to the lake as she dared, studying her reflection as she flew parallel to the surface. She was still radiant, wasn't she? She was just as sweet and beautiful as before.
Only, she could see a shadow of the scar on her lower arm, faint and white.
She hastened away from the lake and headed straight for the gates of Makai. Once there, she paused and waited patiently in the air, retracting her wings and reassuming a harmless guise for what she hoped would be one of the last times ever.
She didn't have to wait long. Soon she spied movement at the very top of the gate, and the very next moment the gatekeeper fell upon her, her vast skirt flaring up as she descended like a billowing aura.
She halted her fall several feet above Mai, folding her arms in an imperious gesture. Mai resisted the overwhelming urge to sneer. Sara had improved her entrances, but she had no doubt she was still the same twit as before.
Her smug smirk was certainly the same as ever. "Well, look who's back."
Mai considered responding with a well-aimed frost spell, then instead gave Sara her sweetest, shiest smile, the kind that had always made Yuki laugh and throw her arms around her. She'd have no trouble crushing this pipsqueak, but it would take a moment and undoubtedly attract attention. Today, she would breach Makai's defences with guile alone. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Nah, it's pretty dull here now that the fighting's all over." Sara hovered backwards till her back was against the gate. She placed one foot on the magic-enhanced surface, trying and failing to look cool. "Not that you're likely to care, but the rebuilding's going well. It looks really nice around the palace now."
"On the contrary, I'm glad to hear that. Does that mean there's something new?"
"I only had a glimpse of it, of course." Sara nudged her head towards the gate, as though Mai didn't know she spent most of her life sitting on top of it, guarding it with the single-mindedness of a complete dullard. "But there's a huge garden over there now, with trees like the ones in Gensokyo, just better. Probably the best thing Lady Shinki has ever created."
Sara's only, very short visit to Gensokyo had been during night-time, so she must have been speaking entirely based on hearsay. "Do you think it would be okay if I went to see it just for a moment?"
"Having second thoughts about leaving, are we?"
Leaving? They had been cast out! "Maybe a little. I would love to see trees again."
"I was kinda hoping you'd come here to fight, but..." Sara chewed her lip as she studied Mai's face. "Yeah, go ahead. No-one deserves to be deprived of Lady Shinki's wonders.
Mai curtsied. "You're too kind."
Sara followed her to the top of the gate — something which for the first time made Mai wonder what was even the point of building a gate that didn't reach the ceiling of the cave — and gazed into Makai proper along with her.
"Don't go starting any trouble," she said. "I know for a fact Yumeko won't hesitate to cleave your wings right off if she catches you."
Mai preened. "Trust me, that won't be an issue."
Sara nodded, but she looked doubtful as Mai sprang off the gate, gliding gracefully towards the capital.