The Chancellery of Ojan was constructed where marshes of cyan salt kissed meadows of golden maize, just beyond where the boathouse lay. It seemed almost out of place— a building whose beauty could only be sculpted by the infinite almighty— so far beyond the artistic gaze of any mere human. Standing against a flat and otherwise unassuming horizon was an incredible white château, with gothic pillars that ascended from mud and dared to scrape the entrance of the heavens. The large grasp of its body accumulated around a dome-like structure of staggering size; its crown outstretched toward the sun and interlocking fingers with the almighty itself. Ornamental gardens decorated its front gate— trees with crooked grey trunks scattered across the marshes— their branches weeping mint willow vines that swayed in the passing breeze. Grandiose windows with black detailing gazed out across the landscape— the silhouette of the Chancellery too divine to shelter mortal eyes lain upon it. I was unable to move when confronted by its vast infinity of beauty. It seemed appropriate that only a person like Junko, who possessed an angelic lure only comparable to the seraphs themselves, was deemed worthy of ruling over such a place. Yet even then, I could not remove my eyes from the heavenly construction standing before me.

“Why have you never taken me here before?” I asked her. A serene wind swept across the marshes, running its hand through our hair and dissolving before reaching the Chancellery’s holy gates. The sun basked us in its golden embrace.

“The other members of the Council are often too busy to be here— even now only a select few were able to attend today’s gathering.” Junko responded. “So the time never seemed appropriate.” She lifted her chin up— inhaling deeply— her throat compressed within her gorget. Her dress of white satin danced just above the mud. “Though it does feel quite good to be back here again.”

There was a narrow plank bridge that protruded up from the mud, and we followed its path forward through the willow vines. Two servants dressed in starched white uniforms stood guard by the entrance. They bowed deeply as we approached them, yet their expressions remained still. Not once did their stare lift from the floor— they did not dare lay naked eyes on her.

“Good morning, Sister Layka.” They greeted.
“Morning to you as well.” Junko smiled. “Did Cesare manage to attend today?”
“He’s already inside. Though you should be made aware that all other servants have been excused for today, as per request of the other council members. Would you like us to escort you to the chambers?”

“We’re perfectly fine directing ourselves, but thank you.” She replied. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, how wonderful! We shouldn’t keep them waiting, then.”

“Of course. Come in.” The servant moved aside for us. “Everything has already been prepared.”

The interior of the Chancellery was colored all white— the entrance opening out into a large open foyer lined with high ceilings and windows stained azure and gold. Lingering above us were painted celestial beings with wings— angels who rode the high drafts of heaven, and who gazed down on us while clutching gilded prayer beads. The ultramarine eyes of seraphs watched us trek through corridors of white granite— Junko taking my hand and leading the way as she walked ahead of me. Her steps had hastened, and the roof hung close to our heads as the hallway stretched on. Wedges were carved into the wall to allow for small stained windows to be placed— letting beams of blue light to stream in and partially illuminate the dim corridor. A low hum was audible throughout the whole building, though the origin of the sound— and even the pitch of the buzz itself— was never traceable. I felt a slight prickle starting to manifest by my neck.

Again the corridor opened out into a wider room— a sprawling circular expanse that was lined in ornamental white detailing. Blue-gold light spilled into the boudoir from high windows, casting the white granite in a kaleidoscopic glow that seemed to breathe with its movement. Swimming in its radiance stood a sculpture, large enough to reach the high dome ceiling. She was a woman molded from ivory wax, who stood proudly against the azure cosmos. A long skirt wrapped around her hips, falling down by her feet and spilling out across the platform she stood upon. Hair sprouted from her head in rich coils that washed over her shoulders, and she crossed her arms across her chest in a solemn manner. Her chin pointed down to the grown— her eyes closed. Blossoms leaked from her skin and snaked across her figure. Immediately I recognized her as Sister Columba— there was no mistaking that same ethereal beauty captured in her image by the Wood Palace. Both Junko and I slowed our pace to allow ourselves a mere moment longer to look at her.
“There’s more throughout the Chancellery.” She explained to me— our swift pace quickly resumed once more. “Most are Columba, but there are others too that honor past movements beside her— though none are fabled nearly as much as she is.”

Just beyond her memorial boudoir was a slightly smaller chamber, with walls lined by royal velvet armchairs. The floor was carpeted red, and between the chairs were smaller figurines cast from alabaster and displayed on marble columns. A central skylight cut out of the dome’s crown provided the only illumination for the room; a waterfall of white incandescence cascading down and then sharply spilling out across the carpet. Just under the rapids of light stood a cluster of men dressed in starch white robes— notably more pristine in appearance than the ones worn by the servants. Standing taller than the rest of the congregation was Cesare, whom I recognized by his distinctly piercing eyes. His blue stare spotted our entrance immediately.

“Sister, you’ve finally come!” He exclaimed— his voice grating along the walls. The other two he had been speaking to previously now moved aside so that he could approach us— Cesare going to embrace Junko without even looking at me. She rest her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her hands around his neck. I watched the two from a distance— shifting my feet awkwardly.

“I’m glad you could make it, Cesare.” She said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. I pursed my lips— darting glances between them to look at how they admired the other with such infatuation. I began to worry that she might forget about me again in the same way she had last time. I seemed to assimilate with the air when she was around him— her being too blissful to see my blood saturated with indigo. I clenched my hands, but said nothing.

Junko smiled hospitably at him, tilting her head. She then glanced back toward me. “It just dawned upon me— I don’t believe I’ve introduced you to Ezra before.” She remarked.

“I don’t think I have.” Cesare replied, glancing past her to stare at me— the ice in his eyes pressing to my skin. He squinted, looking me over. The cold of his gaze was unbearable, and my pulse throbbed through my temples like a war drum. I reflexively straightened my spine— standing up straight for his assessment. He stepped forward towards me.

“Ezra, I’d like you to meet Cesare. He’s a good friend of mine.” Junko said. Cesare held out a rugged hand for me to shake, and I accepted gracefully. His grip was firm, and he clasped a second hand over mine while nodding respectfully.
“I’ve heard many things about you.” He stated, staring at me directly in the eye. My stomach churned— out of nervousness or otherwise— I’m not quite sure. I furrowed my brow, giving him a confused look.

“We joined the Council at the same time many years go.” Junko explained. “Very smart man— we’ve known each other for some time.” His grasp did not relent, and he continued shaking my hand. Though he now looked past me, staring out into the memorial boudoir that we’d emerged from. His expression was overcome with a vexed glaze.

“I want to meet the movement boy, too.” One of the uniformed council members Cesare had been talking to before now spoke— a young man with sharp features and an even sharper leer. He was short, and it hadn’t been entirely clear what sex he was until he spoke. His face was rather androgynous— possessing an fairness I’d only seen in women before— an angelic luster that resonated from his stance. His eyes were an almond shape— the burnt color of roasted chestnuts— hearty in soul like the inner pit of an avocado. He stared at me through narrowed eyebrows a similar dark brown. Yet even with a more childish appearance, his hair was a wiry and grey— void of any undertones that would indicate it was only a light shade of blonde. It was parted down the middle, though still cut short enough that it hugged his scalp— styled to best emphasize the definition of his facial contours. His visual assessment of me seemed more passionate than Cesare’s had been. In fact, there was an intensity in his disposition— the way he stood with such vehemence— it unsettled me.

“Of course.” Cesare beckoned him forward. As he neared me, I realized his uniform was slightly altered from the others. The lip of his shirt rode up his neck— ending closer to his throat. It was all starched white, and etched with intricate patterns that decorated his torso and arms. The boy’s pants draped down over his toes, too large for someone his size. “Avi— meet Ezra.”

The boy came closer— still studying me with his eyes. His expression remained blank. “You’re not how I imagined you. Younger than I expected, perhaps.” Avi articulated. “It’s nice to meet you.” I said, offering my hand in greeting. He stared at it— but did not

reciprocate the gesture. Instead he extended out his arm out to touch my shoulder, and he squeezed my bicep gently. His hand traced down my arm with purpose. I felt as though I were one of the muses in the memorial room, being examined by an inspector. An object— but a precious one of high value (yet he still approached me with an air of skepticism).
“Sister, he’s quite frail. Should he not be in better condition?” Avi asked— appearing to look right through me. I furrowed my brow.

“I’m frail?” I repeated.

“Well— maybe not. Perhaps I just had the wrong idea about what a movement looks like altogether. When compared to the Sister, you’re more... human than I expected.” He observed. His eyes now shifted to stare at my skin and not past me— his gaze moving across my face until we interlocked glances. His morphological features resembled Junko much more closely— his skin void of blemishes, as though he’d never stepped into the sun, or bloodied his knuckles in protest. Every aspect of his appearance was carefully groomed— his clothes woven from only the finest fabrics. Its result was one that was nepotistic yet still beautiful— someone who was never once told no— an angel lounging too high in the heavens to hear the cries of anguished mortals. His sandals were a colorless white that reflected the light of the windows; never soiled on earth outside the compound of the Chancellery. Though at this moment he seemed to have figured me out as well.

“You look rather sad. It was so concealed I almost didn’t notice it at first.” He articulated, keeping his hand on my shoulder. “Though maybe that is the answer after all: it’s your humanity which gives you access to the higher worlds...” He turned to Junko. “Would you say that’s the case, Sister?”

“I’m not quite sure myself.” She admitted. “The prerequisites for ascension vary between movements.That’s why we’re here— to understand those boundaries. And,” She gave me a knowing smile, “to see Naomi again too.”

I nodded slowly.

“Ezra. Before we start— I think you should also acquaint yourself with Brother Dorian as well. He made a large effort to sit in on the ritual today.” Junko said, now pointing to the final councilman I had not yet spoken to. He was less remarkable than the others, being older and possessing a weathered face that was flushed ebony from a relentless heat. His hair was kept in short twists, and his uniform were sewn from fine pima cotton, but even with such luxury at his trimmed fingertips, he lacked the same airy highness as the others. Thin traces of wrinkles had started to pull at the corners of his eyes— a grey stubble piercing the skin of his chin and upper lip. His There was a perpetual impatience to him— a tiredness at the slow. It bled through into his brief wave to acknowledge me.
“Do not let me keep you waiting from seeing your sister again.” He stated. “This meeting was long overdue— we should begin promptly to not waste anymore time.”

“I respect your urgency.” Junko said. “Let us start, then.”

Our congregation ventured to the adjacent chamber, and it was immediately apparent that the design of the Wooden Palace shared the same format as this place. The floor of ceramic tile sloped down in the center of the room to form a single large tub, filled with an aromatic water whose fragrance wafted to my nose from the entrance. Coils of steam were thrown against the walls— condensing along the insulated crown molding and decorating the pale turquoise tile with dew. Only a small beam of light managed to stream through a tiny window etched into the dome ceiling. A darkness lingered in the corners the luminescence did not touch.

I stared at the tub— feeling an itch rise in the back of my throat. The leech was crying now, and a familiar buzzing resonated within my ears. Yet my mother was not here this time to clutch her cold hand around my wrist. I no longer felt as empowered as I had before— indigo flushing my veins blue and casting a blistering cold across my whole body. No— she could not settle the leech as she had last time. It was crawling within my stomach, gnawing at the walls of my chest. There was a loneliness that now stung at my aching joints.

“Undress.” Junko said, gently placing a hand on my back and startling me back to reality. I gasped— now feeling suffocated from the steam. Its hands cupped to my mouth and stifled my breathing.

“I’m— feeling unsure.”
“But why?” She asked. “Naomi is just beyond the water. Do you not miss her?”
“No, I do.” I stammered. “I— I do. Of course I do.”
Junko looked at me coldly, leaning forward so close that her lips threatened to kiss my

ear. “Then get in the tub.” She whispered starkly. “You cannot change your mind now. The council members are important people who do not have time to sit and wait for you to be ready. Brother Dorian already said this is past due. This is one of those times where you have no choice.”

I bit my tongue, diverting my eyes from the tub and instead staring at the ceiling. Steam desperately clawed at the skylight for release, but was left with no place to go— destined to only clog the room’s throat. Sweat accumulated at my temples, and a twitching beyond my control overcame my muscles. I shuddered repeatedly— only focusing on the congested light that
managed to pierce the dense fog clouding the bath. I felt the stare of the council members burning into the back of my head, yet I could hardly get myself to move.

“Must I fetch a servant to undress you?”
I reeled my chin up— taking a nasally breath.
“N— no.”
“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” She apologized. “I’m left with little choice here— now

that I must satisfy the demands of the others. Just go on, and it will end sooner.”
I stripped to my underwear, still feeling the burning of many eyes against the back of my

head. I stood awkwardly— shifting my weight because my bare feet could not rest comfortably on the cold ceramic. Steam burrowed into my naked skin, and I wrapped my arms around myself in a limp hug. My head slumped towards the floor.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Junko inquired. I pursed my lip and nodded hesitantly. “We may begin now.” Brother Dorian said.
Avi stepped in front of me— glancing back at the other two, and beginning to unbutton

the collar of his uniform. He removed his pristine white overcoat, revealing beneath another starched white shirt with long sleeves that ran down the entirety of his arm. Junko approached from behind to take the coat from his hands— their movements rehearsed and almost mechanical in their execution. He did not thank her as she retreated back to Brother Dorian’s side. From his belt he unsheathed a narrow seax the length of his forearm. Its handle was cushioned with red leather and embroidered with patterns— stemming from the handle was a polished blade which cast a brilliant brick of reflected light on the ceiling. Avi studied it for a moment— running his finger along one of its sharp edges. He grazed his finger closer against the blade until it breached the outer layer of skin— a thin stream of blood now trickling down the side of his hand.

Seeing the blood elicited a visceral churning in my stomach, and I subconsciously took a step away from the tub. Though I knew there was no way out now, and I tried my best to regain the wind that had exited my chest. Avi didn’t move— instead moving the knife toward the base of his thumb. He cut even deeper this time, and I could see the crimson ravine mutilating his palm from where I stood. The compressions of my chest shortened, and the only wind left in my lungs was the sorrowful song of the leech— whose cries still went unheard in my own head. The only crutch I could lean on was the stifled sound of my own breathing— an uneven and erratic hymn against the horror. I comforted myself by thinking Naomi might be watching me at this
moment. Avi let the rivers of dark maroon and crimson trickle down his arm and drip into the tub. A putrid fever overcame me as I watched a cloud of diluted blood plume in the water— casting a dark cloud which tainted its previous purity.

“The heavens have been reached.” Avi stated. He stepped aside, now looking back at me.

“Uh—“ I glanced nervously between the councilmen. Something beyond my understanding was expected of me. “What should I...?”

Junko again placed a hand on my back— applying a slight pressure to push me forward. The leech howled. “Don’t think too much,” She advised, “just think of Naomi. You’ve done this before with your mother, all you need to do is recreate the passage you experienced last time.”

I pursed my lip. “Okay...”

Junko leaned closer. Her hair itched up the back of my neck and fell across my shoulder. “This is your sister, not mine. I don’t know of the bond you two may have shared— meaning only you can find her in the beyond.” Her thumb gently rubbed against my spine. “But don’t worry— I know you can do it. I believe in you, Ezra.” She affirmed.

My muscles relaxed somewhat as I looked at her. “Thank you.” I whispered.

My heart throbbed so violently I feared it may break through my ribs. I tried my best to recall how I felt on that night that now felt so long ago— reflections of car lights on the ceiling of my living room— the gust of warm air which drew me towards the balcony. I could still remember how my mother would run her hand through my hair, and the longer I thought of these moments the more vividly I could reminisce of them; something once so faint in my head now bleeding into the fiber of my very soul. With these memories came white lipids that danced before me— veins that blanketed the room in a white snow of veins. The embrace of my own arms tightened. The heaving of my chest— the contractions of my breathing— slowed to one more normal.

I now understood there was a missing piece of my mutilated soul; a fragment that I’d lost which hindered my ability to feel human, and now it manifested before my eyes— moving between the veins. I watched a glowing poltergeist dart across the room, coming to rest in the water of the tub— its luminance dissolving into the blood. My previous horror washed away with it. I moved to its remains, taking a step towards the tub. The steam and the rotting cries of the leech could no longer reach me. I only felt the lapping of the water against my ankles as I descended. A buoyancy uplifted me, and my skin assimilated with the tides. I was as fluid as the
motion of the rapids, and the warm water was now up to my chin. I closed my eyes— following the mechanical motions I’d seen the others do— intertwining with the natural impulses of my soul. I imagined my mother’s cold hand guiding me deeper into the blue, an endless abyss forming around me.

I no longer felt human. I was a spectral body floating amongst a larger void that stretched beyond my gaze, and there was no distinction between where my body ended and where the rapids started— all of it a single mass drifting in the infinity. A familiar and somewhat nostalgic scent of salt reeked heavy in the steam, and was potent enough to remind me where I was. Stings burrowed into the corners of my eyes as the solution spilt through, though they seemed almost inconsequential in comparison to the euphoria I now felt; a sense of belonging that was a warm embrace in the darkness— I now drifted further without the authority of a cold hand. My hands clenched to fists and then released— the contortions of my muscles now seeming alien. I floated on my back— my head uplifted towards the ceiling, and my body bobbing on the surface of the water. For intervals I’d open my eyes, and look up at the spiraling steam that funneled through the dome above me— but I would always close them again, realizing that the absence of the darkness was far more grounding. Within the black I could see something— a feint spark— a crackling ember just out of my grasp. I shuttered my eyelids, and each time it would approach closer— almost like a flickering image conjured from a strip of film. Yet the light was far more comforting than that— a shrinking and expanding luminance that pulsed in rhythm with my own heartbeat. I awaited its arrival eagerly.

It seemed I had been in a perpetual state of waiting— left to rot amongst bleak constellations and marinate in a black abyss. After what seemed like an eternity I had become almost accustomed to it— my penance being imprisoned in an eternal purgatory of watching. I was sentenced to be a spectator. Or at least— I thought it would always be this way. No clothing— the fire of heaven scorching my naked soul— I clutch my knees to my chest. I would drift aimlessly and spend my days doing nothing but watching. Over and over— the days bled into one another until my futile existence no longer seemed worth worrying over. Time no longer held any meaning, and neither did any of my worldly fears. I had assimilated to the larger body.

But then— if I had— what could be that hand which never seemed to release from me? A soul bind which kept me shackled to Earth. I could feel it, and its strength had intensified.
The light drew closer, expanding into an ethereal butterfly with spectral wings that filled the absence with a cleansing wind that pulled me further from reality. The leech decayed to compost in my transparent body, and from its remains sprouted a tree woven from white lipids. Pulsating veins gave the void a heartbeat. My ghostly body felt everything and nothing all at once. The missing fraction of my soul approached me, and I’d grown whole.

The black tar ripped away to reveal a portion of the past world that was previously curtained from my vision. A golden glow tainted with indigo beckoned me backwards. Pastel winds and white bindings reeling me back again. There was an itching in my transparent mind— one which told me that I knew these veins— this indigo resonance. I knew him quite well.

There was something in the butterfly as it neared me— something I could recognize. I knew this insect with beautiful beating wings. Even in the vacuum, it had a scent traceable to my younger years— an embrace I’d longed for since the day I lost her in the inferno.

My figure writhed amongst the stars as I dared to touch this mortal being.

The butterfly was within reach now.

I outstretched my arms— my human flesh coming back to me as I wrapped them around his neck— my worthless soul given new fulfillment as we hugged for the first time.

A divine light graced me as we pulled close to one another— our ribs mirroring one another in the emptiness. Two fractions made whole as she pressed her lips to my forehead, kissing me. Our tears fell empty in the void. I inhaled the pink wind, now feeling human in her presence.

The anatomy of my soul was complete.

I was so scared

that I might have lost you

forever.

But in the absence I have found you,

Naomi.

Ezra.

I will never leave you again.

Yet I knew the impossibility of that statement as I thought it. How unfair it was, that I would only be permitted a mere second with her after all this time. She was the only thing
keeping me going this entire time, and yet all my effort had resulted in seeing only a mere fragment of her essence. I could embrace her ghost as it slipped away, but I would never touch her human flesh. I was left with only traces, and a wordless synchronization between us brought me to the understanding that this was the truth. And even when left with only this small part of her, even that fraction would not last forever. The indigo had already started to creep up my spine, and bleed back into my body— pulling me away from her.

I wanted to marinate in this fraction of a second for longer— let an eternity pass before I depart from the pink wind and descend back to Ojan. Just another moment— just another— I wanted to be in her arms. I wanted to feel innocent and happy again. I wanted her eternity of gold to give me fulfillment. I wanted to feel loved just for a sliver longer. But that would never happen, because even as she pulled closer, I could feel the void begin to pull her away from me. She was going to leave me in this cruel world— alone— all over again.

I thought that maybe I should try to force her to stay with me— to grab at her ghostly essence and remain in this position of interlocked ribs until my soul dried out— but there was a growing vacuum between us. An impenetrable boundary that seperates me from the only person in the world I wanted to talk to. The almighty wanted me to be alone forever— my fingers now grabbing at air as her essence began to evaporate.

“Please stay longer...” I whispered— feeling rapids of empty tears envelop me. An aching erupted all across the mutilations on my heart, and I felt the leech had arisen once more as well. “I’m sorry that I left you back then— I never should have left you—“ I stopped myself— my chest involuntarily heaving as it began to manifest again— my mortal body calling me back. Empty rapids cascaded down my face.

She did not respond to me. I’m sure she heard me— what was left of her— but there was an impossibility obscuring us from speaking clearly. Yet even then I felt a vibration in our soul tie— a warmth that reached out to me even beyond the darkness— and it was then that I knew she had understood. She had forgiven me for abandoning her in the fire.

There was a sinking in my gut as I was faced with the reality that we would soon no longer be with one another. Again I felt tears well in my eyes and salt begin to burn at the creases of my eyes, and I fought against myself to stop from breaking down. I had seen her— and I should be happy with only that. Though it may be impossible for our coexistence to be
permanent, I could at least be grateful that I was blessed with knowing her in the first place. That, of all people in the world, I was lucky enough to be her brother.

I exhaled...

No. I could never be satisfied with a mere moment when I was owed an entire lifetime. I would see her again at any cost, even for just a sliver of time. I had experienced enough of life to know that was a possibility, and I would ensure it becomes my reality.

Naomi was only a wisp now— whom I coddled in my hands.
“Stay with me.” I said to the wisp. “I deserve so much more time with you.” The tears plunged endlessly as she finally faded away from existence.