Hours ago, to Orrin's amusement, his sister had closed the distance with Aurora until it was more like he was following the pair of them than part of a three-person procession. Two pinks heads, one bobbing through the forest, the other gliding alongside, one with her hair in a bun, the other's disappearing into her cloak, and Orrin watching from five steps behind. If those two returned to Irienne looking and acting anything like this, Lylis was never, ever going to escape from being called "Beauty's chosen" or "Beauty-blessed" or "Beauty's missing butterfly" or the like. What was amusing Orrin was, while those labels had been something she'd endured in the past, and she'd found them especially grating in the last six years, he had a hunch that her response in the future would be closer to "She prefers Aurora."
"I've been thinking..." Lylis was currently saying. "If I'm honest with myself, I think this is where I would be, too." She indicated the wilderness, all around them. "I would get so sick of it all, and just want to be left alone to do whatever I needed to, in peace. So...so I feel a little sorry, that we...just showed up out of nowhere, dumped the world's problems on you, and are dragging you back with us. Cities--it must be such a pain."
Aurora shook her head.
"No. I'm not pleased at the state the world is in, but don't worry about 'dragging' me to Irienne. I'm looking forward to it!" she assured Lylis. "I enjoy visiting people. Checking in, seeing what's new."
Lylis glanced at her, surprised.
"You don't mind...being gawked at, by everyone? Eyes all over you, everywhere you go, nonstop? Begged to pose for paintings? Wear this, wear that, look over here--isn't it tiresome?"
The cloud of butterflies surrounding and following the goddess abruptly stopped moving forward with her.
"We've arrived," Aurora announced, and pointed.
The entrance to the cavern was not obvious. From this distance, it appeared only as a sunlit gap in the forest shade on a gently sloping hillside. Apparently, it was more upward-opening, like the rim of a pit, than the cliffside cave entrance that Orrin had envisioned.
Aurora brushed the wings of the single butterfly still with her, perched on her finger, to bid it farewell.
"You two should eat and rest before we head inside," she instructed, as the last butterfly fluttered off its perch. "I'll answer Lylis' question while I wait."
She seemed lost in thought while they walked the remaining distance to the pit.
When they reached the rim, Orrin was relieved to see that despite opening mostly upward, the cavern leveled off into a roughly horizontal tunnel not too far down. No ropes would be needed, at least not to enter.
He and Lylis stepped back from the edge and removed their packs, to get their provisions, while Aurora stayed where she was, staring into the darkness below.
"Give me your quivers," she said, just after they'd started digging through their packs.
Her sudden seriousness, how it contrasted with the last few hours, sent a chill down Orrin's spine, and recalled the memory of the cosmos behind those pupils. This was, in fact, a primordial goddess, not Lylis' favorite aunt, not some cheery magician who happened to be startlingly beautiful.
"I'll enhance the other arrows," she explained. "And are there any in your packs?"
Orrin wasn't complaining, but, "Is something wrong?"
Eventually, the Goddess of Beauty answered with a question of her own.
"...You two feel nothing strange?"
Lylis seemed to have no more idea of what she meant than Orrin did.
"No?"
"...I'm not sure if that's good or bad," Aurora admitted. "In any case, you deserve to know, before going inside: I feel resentment, clinging to this area, like fog hugging the ground. I felt it before, at the spring. That I feel it again, here, is troubling."
She extended a hand, and sent butterflies of sunlight fluttering into all parts of the cavern with a sightline to the surface. Nothing but rock and dirt and root was revealed. And...
"Guano, on the cavern floor," she muttered. "Yet no bats."
She unclasped and removed her cloak, revealing pink hair hanging to the same length as Lylis'--Orrin had expected even longer--and also, fully unveiling her ice dancer silhouette. With no more than the brush of a finger, she sliced off the cloak's hood, then sliced it in two. The two sections of silk thus produced, one in each of her palms, began to glow respectively red and pink.
'Need to plunge into a creepy cavern of poison and evil?' Orrin thought to himself. 'Here's a tip: try bringing a benevolent goddess. It helps.'
"Here." She handed the sheets of light-silk over. "You two should wear these, as breathing masks, if you still plan on entering."
"I'm in to the end," Lylis vowed, and Orrin nodded.
Aurora nodded back. "I do not know what to expect, but you should both keep in mind what I told you earlier: I can't die, not really. This body isn't me; it's my vessel, my container, my representation inside this world. For example, if I start gagging: drop everything and run. If I say so: run. Do not risk the only life you have on my account. Leave me, return to Irienne, and I will find you there, after a little trip to the Void."
That...felt wrong, but it made sense. Both twins agreed.
"Good. Now, eat up. I will start on your arrows, and answer Lylis' question."
"We both have twenty arrows in our quivers, and another twenty in our packs," Lylis told her, handing over her own supply.
"Perfect. I can finish seventy-eight in the time it takes you to eat comfortably."
Aurora knelt on both knees, picked up the first of Lylis' thirty-nine remaining normal arrows, and got to work. The process--rubbing her fingers on it, as far as Orrin could tell, though he was sure it was more complicated--strongly gave the impression that it was simply her own beauty literally rubbing off on what she was touching.
"So, you asked if I mind being gawked at. I do wish, sometimes, that I could blend in, and see the world as just another anonymous sightseer," Aurora admitted. "But I wouldn't say it's because I mind the stares. I wish I could blend in, so I could see things in proper context. See the world as others see it, instead of what it looks like when it's distorted by my presence. What does Irienne's market look like, sound like, smell like, when it's a normal day? I will only ever get to experience what it's like when the Goddess of Beauty is visiting."
She shrugged.
"But the eyes themselves? No, they don't bother me, not really. I know what I am. I know that getting a single glimpse of me across a plaza is a lifelong memory, something people tell their grandkids about."
A toothy, impish smile burned itself into Orrin's memory. Permanently.
"And I don't wear the cloak because I'm embarrassed about what's underneath it."
A sympathetic, sisterly punch, more of a firm knuckle tap, brought Orrin back to where he was and what was happening. Aurora was smirking, but with her eyes still locked on the arrow in her hands; without looking up, she motioned for Orrin to resume his chewing.
Alas, he was naught but a poor mortal, kneeling across from a goddess dressed in a snug silk one-piece, smoldering in the light of her own sunset. Creator hath mercy.
"I was created to enrich the world, to add the decorations and passions and zest that make it a home worth living in. I love seeing people who have been inspired, who feel energized, who have something they want to do, to achieve, a reason to wake up in the morning, who feel glad to be alive! For some, my sunsets manage it--that's perfect! For others, it's me, in the flesh--just as good! If someone's wish is to see me wearing some particular outfit, especially a personal design they're proud of, then I can't wait to try it on! Every eye tracking me, every painting I pose for, every outfit I wear, every time I wave and smile at a person who finds the courage to call to me, is a dream that came true for someone. It's someone who feels a little more glad to be alive than they otherwise would have. There is no greater joy. Not for me."
She reached for another arrow.
"I will protect those dreams," vowed Beauty incarnate.
Afterwards, they finished their meal in silence. Lylis seemed to be thinking deeply about what Aurora had said. Orrin was trying to decide what his answer would be, if Aurora asked what would most inspire him.
'Ice dancing,' he decided. 'I would ask to see her ice dancing. That would be enough.'
"Done," Aurora announced, returning the last of Orrin's arrows of light--precious heirlooms of his family, across ages yet to come, assuming he ever managed to start one. "Ready?"
"Ready," Lylis answered, tying her shining silk mask across her nose and mouth.
Orrin stowed his sacred treasures with the care they deserved, and tied his own mask into place. "Ready."
Aurora stepped over the rim of the pit, causing Orrin to yelp in alarm and instinctively lunge toward her. The drop wasn't that short! Twice her height, at the shallowest part!
She glanced back at him, then down at her silk-and-chitin boot, planted firmly on a narrow ledge that definitely hadn't been there a minute ago.
"I sculpt mountains," she reminded him, flashing a bemused smile that made the momentary embarrassment worth it. "Fully remodeling the cavern would take time, but I can make our path a little easier, with quick and subtle changes."
She continued her descent, and Lylis hastened after her favorite aunt, energized both by the casual display of power and by having a clear objective in front of her.
Don't try to take any hits for her, Orrin reminded himself, as he followed. And no jumping after her into pools of acid. Just don't. She's a goddess.
"The footing is stable," that goddess announced, when she reached the cavern floor.
Bands of pale pink light appeared on the ceiling overhead, tracing out their future path.
"I did promise to make the lighting perfect tonight," Aurora pointed out.
Lylis did her best not to squirm too much while Aurora marveled at her in the pink lighting. This lighthearted diversion was probably intended to soothe their nerves.
Behind her, Lylis' poor brother let out a barely-audible gasp and helpless sigh. The reason was obvious: if this lighting was perfect for Lylis, it was also perfect for a goddess who had copied her hair.
"Is that resentment fog thicker down here?" Lylis asked, partly to help Orrin get his mind refocused on the task at hand.
Aurora peered ahead.
"Very slightly, maybe?" she answered. "But it's like I've been just outside a foul latrine for most of an hour, and now I've gone inside."
Desensitized to the 'stench,' so it didn't hit as hard as it did at first. Understandable.
They ventured deeper into the cavern, really more of a slowly-descending tunnel, with their path lit by Aurora's bands of light well above them, near the ceiling. Not too far in, the tunnel veered to the left about a quarter-turn. After rounding the bend, Aurora froze, her mouth hanging open in shock.
There was a...wall? The tunnel narrowed up ahead, to a diameter a little over twice Lylis' height, and was plugged by a circle of what looked like black glass, with six silhouettes carved on its surface in a hexagonal arrangement.
Aurora's was unmistakable, on the bottom left.
Neither twin bothered asking aloud; the question was implied.
"It's a copy, of the Gate to the Void. Absolutely, unconditionally impassable, except to a god or goddess," Aurora explained. "Only my brother could have made it. Crafting."
She paused briefly, before continuing.
"Placed somewhere my butterflies would never go. Placed here without telling me a thing about it. Entered and exited with care, so that my butterflies would have no idea anyone had ever come here."
Lylis' read was that Aurora sounded calm because she was the kind of calm that happened when fury overflowed.
"Such a guilty conscience, brother. Shall we see what you're hiding from me?"
Yeah, seemed like an accurate read.
"You can open it?" Orrin asked. "Uh, should you open it? What if--What if it's a seal? A prison?"
"I need only to channel my power, and...speak my name, basically, in the manner that we speak with Mother-Father, in the Void," Aurora replied. "If it's a seal, the seal is already breaking, and Irienne is currently suffering the consequences. I like to think I would have been informed about any existential threats. No, this is only something naughty. Worst case, I will re-shut the Gate immediately. If you wish to leave, I will wait, but I intend to see what my brother so badly wants to hide from me."
"Open it," Lylis growled, readying her bow. She'd known this was some stupid god's nonsense.
"Alright," Orrin exhaled, and followed Lylis' lead.
Aurora stretched out a hand, and a butterfly of light fluttered toward her part of the door. On contact, her silhouette filled with light, glowing brightly.
"I'm about to speak my name," she warned. "The Gate's resonance will...It will be intense. Soul-touching, like my singing, but not dangerous. You may wish to kneel."
Both twins followed her advice.
No word was spoken.
Images. Ideas. Sensations.
Lylis' mind was injected with what Aurora had described, earlier. Her purpose. Her motives. Her essence. It was not the words "Goddess of Beauty," but their definition, what Aurora was, in her totality.
It lasted only a fraction of an instant.
In a fraction of an instant, Lylis was forced to understand, completely understand, how inadequate 'Beauty' was for summarizing Aurora. It might be the best single word, but it wasn't nearly good enough. Lylis should have known. She'd experienced it herself: transcendent beauty and its consequences, the double-edge. For a transcendent beauty, nothing more was required. For a transcendent beauty, nothing more was recognized.
When it ended, all too soon, there were tears streaming down Lylis' cheeks.
The 'black glass' shimmered, and faded from existence.
"Gahahah!" With the guttural wail of a mother shown her toddler's corpse, Aurora collapsed to her hands and knees.
It took Lylis a moment to reconcile what she was seeing, through her tears, with the image she'd developed of Aurora thus far.
It took another moment to remember that Aurora had told them to drop everything and flee, if something like this happened to her.
Before Lylis could make any decisions, three small shadows flit through the gap, where the Gate had been.
There was a thunderous howling from the entrance to the cavern, behind them. A wall of air pushed Lylis into a roll, and momentarily pinned the shadows against the side of the cavern. On pure instinct, Lylis came out of her roll on one knee, with the gale at her back, and loosed three arrows. They flew with unnatural speed, pink light pinning each shadow to the wall just before the wind faded.
Lylis was unsure whether she deserved any credit for the feat of marksmanship. The wind might have helped to steer those shots where they needed to go.
And those weren't normal arrows. Normal arrows would not have penetrated into solid rock.
Nothing more seemed to be coming out of the dark, so Lylis searched for her brother and Aurora, keeping an arrow nocked. Orrin's bow was on the ground, where he had been standing when the Gate opened...Ah, there! Orrin had carried Aurora to cover, within a recess in the cavern wall. So much for abandoning her.
Orrin turned away from Aurora for a moment to look for Lylis, revealing tear streaks on his own face.
"Are you hurt?" he called. "What are those things?"
"Nothing touched me," Lylis called back, then moved over while keeping an eye on the tunnel. "And I don't know--little shadows. Too far to see details; I just shot. Are you alright, Aurora? You collapsed."
"I...will be fine," Aurora forced out. "It's only...emotional...pain. Those 'shadows'...are probably...bats. Or, what's left."
