Past (Dobu)

  Piano Sonata Number 21.

  I woke before dawn and danced in my invisible hat. I was dancing, and no one could see me dancing.

  I was not embarrassed, and I was flying.

  “Her ladyship summons you to her chamber,” announced the servant, and I was not flying anymore.

  But she was, of course, speaking to my brother, Dowa, as I was invisible.

  Piano Sonata Number 22.

  Bori was in her chamber. She was wearing a blue dress (a traditional dress) and was brushing her hair.

  “What is wrong, Mother?" asked Dowa, and I was a bit uncomfortable. He was calling her mother.

  Bori smiled. She stroked Dowa’s cheeks and said, “Sit down.”

  I sat down, and I was alarmed. For our stepmother was being awfully nice. She was holding her hands together.

  “I think I am ill, Dowa. The shaman of the north wants me to try a new medicine.”

  “Well, isn’t that good?” said Dowa, unsure.

  “Isn’t it? But do you know where I can get that medicine?”

  “No... Mother, why are you asking that?" he said.

  Something was wrong.

  Something was really wrong. Father was not here, and he had never left us before with that witch.

  “Dowa, get away from that woman,” I screamed, but it was already too late.

  Bori opened her mouth wide, like a shark in the tank, as she metamorphosed, and our ger (traditional Mongolian house) was driven into the oblivion of the castle.

  Stolen story; please report.

  For my stepmother was not a normal human being anymore. She was a witch. She was a witch who was dripping. She had a doll. She had a doll in her grip.

  The doll was very beautiful and alluring. She was luring us into her trap.

  She tapped on her marble skin and said, “Give me your liver.”

  She did not shout. She was whispering, and that was unsettling. She was calm, as she had never been before.

  "So she was really a witch,” I thought.

  I thought...I looked around. I looked and noticed that our home was gone. There was only a castle. It was pink, and it was asymmetric.

  There was an order everywhere. Bori was destroying everything, sucking us all into the universe of asymmetrical perfection.

  Did someone curse her, perhaps a witch of the West Valley? It was impossible, though. Because Bori was an evil woman, and she brought this all on herself.

  She was being punished for marrying another woman’s husband.

  Present (Baalisbra)

  Piano Sonata Number 23.

  Baarlisbra has just finished punishing his servant. His servant disobeyed him, and he hated disloyal people.

  He had a grand plan, and he did not like it when someone was ruining it for him.

  The tea utensils were brought fifteen minutes ago. It was a heavy tea, and the serving of sweets was bringing out the lightness in the heaviness.

  “Was she awfully hurt?” asked he.

  “No, my lord.”

  “Why, you aren't a professional.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” answered the head eunuch.

  “Enough with chatting,” cut into the mid-way conversation, Turakine, the tenth noble consort. She was irritated and getting impatient. “We all know that you would be more glad if that poor girl suffered a great deal.”

  “My lady, you are accusing me, and I must admit that my feelings are hurt.”

  “Oh, quit playing a fool. I know that you were pissed off when your first attempt at assassinating her went awry.”

  “But that is not true, my lady.”

  “The only truth is that you are a liar through and through," she said and took a bite of the sweet mochi. It was pink, and it was perfectly asymmetrical.

  “Beautiful,” Baaalisbra murmured. He also took a taste of mochi. He was in bliss now. “I must say, though, my lady, that little minx, Peach Mitani, must have had an accomplice.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Turakine. She immediately stopped chewing.

  “I think that some magic has been involved with the whole soup incident.”

  “Magic?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Are you saying that someone tried to deliberately save Peach Mitani?”

  “Aye, that is what I am guessing.”

  The tench consort took another bite of mochi, and she looked like she was going to throw up; she dramatically got up from her seat.

  “What should we do next?” she asked.

  Baalisrbra smiled menacingly.

  “Don’t worry, my lady,” he said. “I have someone else in mind that will be perfect for the next job.”

  “Is that someone able to use magic?”

  “Well, yes, my lady,” he answered.

  Turakine nervously held her heart. “Is she really dead, though?” she reasoned.

  Baalisrbraa got up from his seat, too. He followed her lady, and then he gave her the promised gift—a treasure box trenched with gold.

  Turakine opened the lid of the treasure box. There was the heart of Peach Mitani in there.

  “Marvelous,” she smiled. “It is not like she is going to resurrect.”