yinyangwizard (
yinyangwizard) wrote2015-11-08 05:01 pm
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Is This Your Card?
For the most part, Abe no Seimei's project to develop a Japanese reinterpretation of the Tarot has been going smoothly. He has developed very specific concepts (even sketches) for most of the cards, and general ideas for the rest that a certain artist of his acquaintance can help to flesh out.
There is, however, one card that is prompting much wracking of brains, ripping of paper, agitated pacing, and chain-smoking. Seimei has considered getting around the problem by leaving the card out of his deck entirely, but that's not really an option. When it comes to magic, one must commit fully or not at all.
So Seimei has devoted considerable time and energy to researching this card in the Milliways library. He has broadened the scope of his research beyond books on the Tarot - even the most obscure and esoteric ones - and is now hunting for references to the card's imagery and meaning in prophetic visions.
At some point he realizes he is very far back in the library, past some kind of event horizon where said library loses its coherence and becomes tangled up with other libraries in other realities and times. The air is thick with magic which doesn't flow so much as swirl around in eddies and whirlpools. Seimei can feel the books watching him, and suspects that they may be planning an ambush of some kind.
While he is all in favor of doggedly pursuing knowledge, he is beginning to think that he may have pursued too doggedly and too far.
There is, however, one card that is prompting much wracking of brains, ripping of paper, agitated pacing, and chain-smoking. Seimei has considered getting around the problem by leaving the card out of his deck entirely, but that's not really an option. When it comes to magic, one must commit fully or not at all.
So Seimei has devoted considerable time and energy to researching this card in the Milliways library. He has broadened the scope of his research beyond books on the Tarot - even the most obscure and esoteric ones - and is now hunting for references to the card's imagery and meaning in prophetic visions.
At some point he realizes he is very far back in the library, past some kind of event horizon where said library loses its coherence and becomes tangled up with other libraries in other realities and times. The air is thick with magic which doesn't flow so much as swirl around in eddies and whirlpools. Seimei can feel the books watching him, and suspects that they may be planning an ambush of some kind.
While he is all in favor of doggedly pursuing knowledge, he is beginning to think that he may have pursued too doggedly and too far.
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"I suppose that is sound advice, but I am stubborn, and have a habit of banging my head repeatedly on walls until either they fall down or I do," Seimei says. His body language and tone of voice are perfectly calm, but inside he's trying to decide between fight, flight, or none of the above.
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You need to know them well, and they know you.
"A different banana it is, then. Who are you? I don't expect a straight answer, but it might help me get at the right question."
If his suspicions are correct, the one he is speaking to may not be physically able to give him - or anyone - a straight answer to any question.
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He is not entirely surprised to run into one of the spirits of the Tarot here: he knows from the accounts of other guests (and some research in safer parts of the library) that they visit from time to time. He knows a few other things about them, too.
"Please forgive me for imposing upon you, sir, but I hope you will accept my humble offering in exchange for your assistance." He reaches into his inner jacket pocket and...
Somewhere close by there is a sound of fluttering pages. Seimei feels more keenly than ever the attention of the books upon him. He withdraws his hand from his jacket.
"Ah. It may be prudent to go elsewhere first," he suggests a bit sheepishly, "so as not to antagonize our present company." He glances sidelong at the looming shelves to either side of them.
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They're outside, and it's evening.
"So, about that bribe..."
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He does not object to the term "bribe," because the word fits, albeit not perfectly. He reaches into his coat again and this time withdraws a polished brass cigar case. He presses the catch with a solemn, almost reverent air, and the lid swings open with a soft click.
Inside are four limited edition Davidoff churchill cigars. Seimei has been saving these for a special occasion. As far as he's concerned, this qualifies.
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"This is the real thing," he says. "What do you want to know?"
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He does not feel the need to justify this: after all, there are multiple variants on the Tarot deck. Seimei's is just one more.
"I am having difficulty with one particular card," he says, holding the brass cigar case out to Tower.
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He takes his time cutting and lighting the cigar, puffing on it, and enjoying it in silence for some minutes.
"Which one?" he finally asks.
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Seimei does not answer immediately: instead returns the cigar case to his coat and pulls out a notebook instead. It is marked with colored page flags that bear names like "The Lovers" and "Strength" and "The High Priestess." He opens it to the page marked "Tower."
Much of the page is taken up by notes, but at the bottom there is a colored-pencil sketch. It's rough, but it is quite unmistakably an atomic mushroom cloud.
"This came to mind almost as soon as I began my work." Seimei's voice is very quiet, almost furtive. "It fits perfectly. But I...I don't think I should use this."
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"But looking back on it now...if it were not for the bombings, we would not be where we are now. Oh, our government would probably surrendered in a few months or so, but not capitulated as completely as we did. We would not have had the American occupation, and we would not have had the prosperity of the Shōwa era.
"And this is the full meaning of the Tower, yes? Something that feels like the end of the world when it happens, but that ultimately brings a positive transformation that could never have happened otherwise."
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As he does, a hazy aura of colored light coalesces around him: it pours onto and swirls around the notebook, then floats a few feet in front of and above Seimei, where it forms a rectangle in the air. The rectangle very much resembles a blank, 10:1 scale playing card.
Seimei keeps drawing. Blobs of color flow around the card, sticking together here and there, jostling each other around. They begin to form an image that is hazy and indistinct at first, but gradually comes into focus. It's the Genbaku Tower - an ukiyo-e print depiction of it - seen as if one were standing on the ground before it, looking upward. From this angle, the stark, jagged skeleton of the dome looms forebodingly above the viewer.
On the page of Seimei's notebook is a very rough, monochrome sketch of the structure: the full-color version hanging in front of him is how the card appears in his mind's eye.
Seimei looks up at Tower with an expression of polite inquiry, as if to ask "what do you think of it so far?"
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Another figure begins to appear, this one a little boy in a school uniform, holding on to the woman's other hand. He is looking up at her (or perhaps at where she is pointing), so his face is not visible. In his free hand, he holds a single paper crane.
Then Seimei begins to fill in the sky above the tower. First clouds appear, and then colors - yellow and red. It may be an early evening sky with clouds drenched by the setting sun, or a sky filled with plumes of smoke lit by the flames of a great conflagration. It's not clear which (and that's the point). The colors of the central tower and skeletal dome change, growing darker until they are barely more than a silhouette against the red-orange sky.
The effect is eerie - in large part because the tricks of perspective and lighting employed in the picture are not typical of ukiyo-e, and the juxtaposition of the two is strange and unnerving.
"And that," Seimei says, "is what I mean by splitting the difference.
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He gets to his feet. "Thank you," he says, "for helping me find the answer." He bows deeply. "If you wish, I will give you a copy of the finished deck - although it will be a while."
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He will, of course, stay out here and enjoy his cigar.
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