Allologue 9

Xantalarian 1889, Cycle 2499853.8
Noh deftly sorted through the hundreds of bits and baubles and fragments and trinkets amassed in the quasi-real space of the tower, organizing the recent acquisitions by size, luster, and flavor. The innumerable hands along his centipede-like body flashed through his treasures, his six primary arms near his head focused on the most precious of them. The items varied dramatically in scope and importance, the least among them a broken arrow that had decidedly not slain its intended target, and among the greatest…
Noh's fragmented attention clarified as a single crystalline sphere, small and glittering, fell from the great accumulation, the sharp bell-like peal of its impact drawing his focus. It came to rest on the ground, alone. It was curious. His possessions, for as long as they truly were his, were generally much more well-behaved. The walls of his tower slithered as he approached the sphere, his expressionless porcelain face studying it intently, as if it were dangerous to merely pick up. Indeed, if it had strayed from his ownership to that of one of his siblings, the tactile sensation could be unpleasant, as it had been with a book he'd recently had to send away to Bunraku. 
It was a memory. A recent trade but a distant recollection by mortal standards. Memories were tricky, so often mortals had their own unique versions of events in their minds, and the very act of selling them to Noh made them Kabuki's property. He didn't mind that so much, the siblings maintained an equilibrium amongst themselves- they were hardly competitors, and many of Kabuki's acquisitions found their way to him in that her customers often had to trade something for what they received, and their knowledge of it made it belong to Noh or Bunraku, depending.
Memories were rarely similarly significant enough and precious enough to the individuals involved that they bore any real semblance to each other. But this memory, unremarkable thing though it was, was similar enough to whatever version of it existed elsemind in the world that it remained his. He picked it up delicately between two black fingers and brought it closer to his face. His mask cracked and split wide, revealing a jagged, many-toothed maw, into which he tossed the small memory. His mind was immediately flooded with Recollection. 
It was a sunny day, warm though relatively cool for the season, the breeze drifted through the trees of the forest and cicadas screamed the death of Summer. She watched the boy in front of her and tried, clumsily, to follow in his practiced footsteps through the forest that surrounded their small village.
"Where are we going?" She asked, "My feet hurt."
The boy ahead stopped and looked down at her with an annoyed expression. He clearly hadn't factored in the pace of a five-year-old in making whatever plans he had formulated. He considered her for a moment before walking over and scooping her up into his arms and up onto his shoulders. "Come on then," he said, "We can rest a bit up ahead, but we've got to get there quickly."
He set off again, and She could see so much more around them than the path she trod. She saw hawks in the air above them, squirrels in the trees, and deer and the small predatory cats that dwelt in the area wandering the forest floor. The sunlight streamed in through the leaves and played across her face.
"Here," he said, jostling her from his shoulders and forcing her attention forward. "It's further out than we're supposed to go, but we made it." 
Before her was a dazzlingly clear lake, a basin, really, the spray from the waterfall and the crests of the ripples in the surface shimmered in the sunlight. 
"We aren't that far from the village," The boy said, pointing up the waterfall, "It's just there, but this place is so hard to get to without jumping that most people don't bother. It's deep around the waterfall, so be careful.”
She nodded assent. “Okay," she said, already drawing close to the water’s edge. She looked through the clear water and gasped slightly when she saw a small fish swimming against the current, picking at whatever it could find between the stones at the bottom. She pointed and looked at the boy, excitedly shuffling her feet. “look,” She said in a stage whisper.
The boy walked back from where he had wandered slightly downstream and followed her finger, smiling when he spotted the fish. He held up a finger to his lips and walked closer to it, his feet barely making a ripple in the water as he stepped forward. In a flash, his hands shot into the water and he came away with the fish in his hands, wriggling and struggling in his grip. The girl giggled as the boy shouted, struggling to maintain his hold until the fish’s struggles became weaker and its thrashing less violent.
“Come see,” the boy said, his eyes bright as he held the fish still.
The girl did so, shivering as she stepped into the cool water that was fed by a hidden spring and ice melt high in the mountain. She pulled close and looked at the fish. Its eyes bulged and its mouth and gills gasped for breath that would not come. 
“Touch it,” the boy said, smiling.
The girl reached out a hesitant hand and touched the fish’s scales. They were wet and rough and slick. The contact caused the fish to resume its thrashing and she drew back. The boy let the fish free and it fell back into the water, where it rocketed to the deep end of the pool, away from the children.
“It was slimy,” she said, smiling. The boy laughed before turning and heading deeper into the water. She followed dutifully, but not that far, keeping just to the shallows like she’d been told. 
Other fish swam up to investigate, some testing her skin for taste which felt like not even a pinch, like a single pinprick from a waking limb. Some swam away, others lingered as if she’d change into something edible if they were simply patient enough. A small freshwater crab crawled across her toes, jetting off when she shifted to get a better look. The boy had started sparring with nothing, practicing complex ways to wave his arms and feet that looked like a bad dance to her in the water.
Her foot found something smooth and round and flat- the stones in the pool had all been worn smooth, but this was different. She bent down and pulled the object from the bed. It was a blueish green stone, flat and round, with a single hole slightly off-center. It was cool and heavy in her palm. “Kitano!” she called to the boy, “come look!”
The boy stopped mid-high-kick and looked over at her. He dropped out of the stance and sloshed over. “Another fish, Kiono?” He asked. 
“No, I found a…” She said not quite finding the words, “a rock!” She held it up for him to inspect. He took it from her and looked at it. She giggled when he stared at her through the hole in the stone. “It’s special,” she said. “I want you to have it. It will protect you.”
“Are you sure? It’s a lucky thing to find this, maybe you’d be giving away all your luck,” He said, holding the stone out flat in his palm towards her.
She nodded and pushed his arm back with both of her small hands. “It’s okay, you’re supposed to protect me, and I want you to be okay, so it’s okay if you have all of it.”
The boy laughed and closed his hand around it. “Alright, I guess it would be hard to keep you safe if I wasn’t safe. I’ll take it and we can protect each other.”
She nodded again. “Exactly!” she exclaimed, as if it had been obvious the entire time.
“We should head back soon,” he said, tousling her hair before walking to the edge of the water, “Enooto will get mad if we’re gone too long.”
“Aww, I want to keep playing!” She protested, but followed dutifully along.
Noh spat the bead out and caught it in one spindly arm after it ricocheted off the stone floor. “Sweet,” he said. “Too Sweet. Maybe the Kar’thadel will buy it.” He filed the memory away into a drawer with several others like it, moving on to catalogue the remainder of his vast inventory.
Category:Allologue