Race to Elysian

Tamiko // One

The sun's warm rays pressed gently against my closed lids, scarlet window coverings doing little to conceal the light falling into my crimson and ruby resting chamber. It was as if the hot, glowing orb that hung high above in the cobalt sky knew that today would be a crucial day of judgement; a day where I would either exceed everyone's expectations, or fail the whole nation in one, massive swoop.

The thought made me shudder silently in my silken sheets, and my lips pressed tightly together as if sewed shut, my nose twitching as if I'd walked near one of those horrid violet flowers that made me sneeze uncontrollably.

I slowly slid open one eye, bringing my hand up swiftly to brush tenderly at my nose, still tickling as if a feather plagued my nose and cheeks. As my vision cleared, a small vase could be seen resting atop my dresser, purple and red flowers placed carefully, not a petal out of place nor a leaf. Giving the flowers closer inspection, I was disgruntled to see a rather large Shobu flower sitting in all its glory, with its three purple and white speckled petals extending, almost as if to brag at how beautiful it was compared to everything else in the room. I hated Shobu flowers, they carried with them so much pollen it made me and my brother rather sick.

As I debated crushing the irritating blossom and throwing it out the window nearest me, handmaid's entered before I could act, their feet making noise like the sound of scuttling mice in the dead of night. I groaned inwardly, wishing today were not the day it was, and slowly began to raise myself up, my cherry red robe falling lazily off one shoulder, revealing the fair flesh that lay underneath.

One of the maids let out a gasp of shock, moving forward in a quick motion to cover my pale shoulder. I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue. I soon assumed the natural pose for adornment and waited while the ladies bustled around, pulling out large chests of jewelry and various colored garments.

Today the outfit was fit to rival the sun's glow itself, with golden embroidery and lavish gemstones. Not my style at all. My preferences were much more subtle, not so flashy or heavy. I liked the feeling of being weightless and light, a bit like a feather that drifts through the air lazily, but was ready to snap swift at any second. These clunky garments made me feel the exact opposite.

Today was meant to celebrate me, yet my dear Mother and Father had appointed their own personal desires in everything from the fashion to food. I dolefully noted that none of my personal staff had been approved to assist me for the day, despite my consistent requests in the week leading up to this event.

But again, I kept my concerns under lock and key, not wanting to ruin the day of celebration; not just for me, but the people of my nation as well. I could feel my body numbing from the weight of the attire, and the painstakingly monotonous task of standing perfectly still.

An eternity seemed to pass before I was considered acceptable. Breathing out a pronounced sigh of relief, I shot the lightest of glares to the handmaiden in charge, my Mother's right hand women, and self-proclaimed chief of scrutiny. Her critiquing talents lay no question as to why my Mother valued her services so.

She was a stern older women who everyone referred to her as Madam Chiaki. Her family had worked under the royal Akahoshi family for centuries, and her loyalty certainly seemed to show in the way she enforced my Mother's strict demands. Her gaze matched mine with almost amused rigidness, I held our eyes before relenting yet again, and turning away with another defeated sigh, an action I knew was to be repeated many times more before the day was over.

Exiting my chamber with the entourage of maids, I found myself slowed to tiny footsteps as the kimonos design was restricted in movement, but flowy in a way that had the handmaidens rushing to save the many layers of fabric from touching the floor. The hallways, now illuminated with the light from outside and from lanterns, lit a pathway that guided me forward, welcoming a ridiculous sight of servants and other maids rushing about with decorations and trays of food, which only caused me to glare more intensely. Madam Chiaki made sure to fix that though, with a soft but significant cough, and my brow instantly relaxed to showcase a happy aspiring queen.

Something stirred deep in my stomach as I caught sight of this alien reflection mirrored in a reflective ornament. A vengeful growl tickled the back of my throat , and feelings of twitchy restraint and growing irritation crawled under my skin. I was not used to suppressing myself this much, forcing my emotions to stay muffled and unheard. Of course life in the palace was naturally constricting, but I had always pushed against the many laws and expectations. How could we expect to rule a nation of fire by stifling it?

Yet, as my parents always served to remind me, flames needed taming as well to prevent chaos. My footsteps remained steady and even, as a raging battle continued to grow in me. Today was monumental, a moment I had been training for my whole life, and one that would be my lasting legacy. Was I ready to have it be orchestrated by everybody else? Courage was trickling through my veins, but froze on my tongue.

"Princess Tamiko!" pierced the air and everyone turned to find to source. A small girl half my size and age ran swiftly through the vast hallways, her feet making light chimes against the marble flooring. She had a bright grin plastered across her face, small eyes sparkling like the suns rays of early morning. She was dressed in a kimono as well, hers made of what looked like red and orange fabric. It twisted around her body snuggly, exposing her pale legs and small feet. Her hair was tied in a very simple bun, with loose strands that dangled lightly to frame her peach shaped face. She'd become somewhat of my pet recently, as her mother had been employed recently to be the seamstress for my outfit today.  

Momo's bright nature provided a refreshing contrast to the usual tone of the palace. I'd always wanted a little sister as well. The girl beamed as she bounded towards me, despite the glances and hisses of disapproval and fear tossed in her direction.

"Good morning Momo," I said softly, eyeing the small girl with curiosity. "I hope preparations are going well?"

Momo merely laughed, shrugging a bit and began to walk beside me, her small child's lips turning upwards with excitement.

"You look so stunning Princess! That kimono looks like it was simply made for you!" I couldn't help but let a small laugh out at her witty remark, examining her own kimono, taking in the warmth it seemed to emit. "Your kimono is quite graceful as well. The embroidery stands out from the rest of it, like its telling a legend of long ago."

Momo swelled a bit at the compliment, slender fingers brushing lightly at the embroidered sleeves and waistband. "Mama made it for me! She's the best of the best! You know that though." She eagerly replied, always ready to sing her mother's praises, and giving my flowing sleeve an adoring pat, at the mercy of disapproving gasps behind us. I couldn't help but chuckle at that, Momo was always entertaining.

I'd been so caught up in the conversation that I hadn't really realized where I was walking. As my eyes focused back to my surroundings, I realized that I was close to my mothers sleeping chambers. I quickly glanced down at Momo, only to see that she'd fallen back, her eyes glinting once again.

"Sorry princess, but I need to get back to work! I hope we can talk again later!" And with that she turned, her kimono flowing around her as she ran in the direction of the throne room.

Waving farewell with a resigned smile, I straightened my posture, my mood shifting comically from happy to dark as I was due to meet my mother. A pair of handmaidens rushed forward to open the ornate doors for me, and I kept my steps precise while passing through, not wanting my first encounter with Mother to be one of scolding, especially on a day like today.

My anxious predictions seemed to pale as she turned towards me, her attire conveying luxury beyond belief, but it was her expression that surprised me. With a rarely seen smile Mother greeted me with an unfamiliar hug, the jewelry from our headpieces swinging wildly and making the handmaidens scurry to prevent wrinkles forming in our ensemble. I met her gaze as words rang forth, the tone warm and welcoming, one I had forgotten she was capable of possessing.

"My dear daughter. Happy 18th."