The loneliness is there the whole way to Akar Prime. Her fingers run nonsense traces on her mesh sleeve until she starts to worry that she’ll somehow rub right through it, that it will unspool underneath her touch and fall apart. But it won’t. Because Jade— the part of her that inhabits the AI, that infuses it with her essence— Jade is alive. Jade is safe. Jade is…

Not with her right now. For the first time in… well, since forever. Even when Jade’s busy, she’s just a prayer away, and the sleeve’s not so much a piece of clothing as a piece of her at this point. It’s what lets her feel Jade curling up against her at night, what lets her share her whole world with her goddess, and being without, being separated, is an ache.

But Jade is alive. Jade is not hurt. Jade should probably reinforce the storage cores. But not divest herself. The thought of Jade pulling away, shedding the body that she dwells within, is intolerable. Maybe she’s selfish, but it’s true. That indwelling is probably why she’s so present in the world, and that idol is the only thing worthy of being infused with her power, so if she left… she’d be more distant. Wouldn’t she?

But her spirit dwells inside of [i]her[/i] body, too. And if that body is pampered enough, maybe she’ll be better able to hold onto the fact that Jade will be back, and she’ll actually be able to enjoy some enforced alone time. For such a reason, her first stop on Akar Prime is a Hybrasilian full-service spa.

Soaking in warm water. Having perfume massaged into her fur. A hair trim and oil treatment. The hot stones and the cold stones. Her blinks are long and slow, and the contact with spa staff helps soothe the feeling that she’s alone, more alone than she ever was in university, with her sister and friends all around her. The body is treated to luxury, and the mind is pulled into the pool to relax.

She’s even able to smile by the time she leaves and makes for her next stop in the mall: the fabrics emporium. Well, intended to be her next stop. First, she stops by a little stall and buys broad-lensed sunglasses with a tortoiseshell frame; she stops in a store that sells Terenian sun hats, and picks one out with flowers all along the crown; she ducks into a lingerie store and comes out with some surprises for Jade, adorable and lacy and slim enough to be worn under flight suits; she applauds a Zaldarian musician playing some sort of lap-based string instrument, and leaves a tip; she eyes a mint dispensary and rocks on her beans until an employee makes eye contact and she scampers away embarrassed. She even stops to dart into a computer cafe and sends Ksharta and Angela messages, asking her fellow harem members if they’d like to get dinner, no pressure, but she’d love to see them tonight?

The thought of nuzzling the screen makes her feel vaguely ridiculous. Besides, she’ll get to nuzzle them in person (if they show up, which she hopes they will, even without Jade’s presence).

Despite those thoughts, perhaps because of them, by the time she makes it to Staszk and Jessica’s, she’s humming snatches of [i]Blue Rain Dance[/i], tote bags dangling from her forearm as she flits from dress to dress, display to display. Ribbons, for her hair, and to tease Ksharta with; a shawl, intricately inlaid with long-tailed Terenian myth-birds; athletic shorts tailored for Hybrasilian physiques, and—

The top is black. The cobalt is paint stamped onto the top, and its messiness is part of the aesthetic point. Beneath the idol’s head, in profile, is simply: [i]Overcome Everything.[/i] The fabric stretches enough that she’ll have no problems with it, even if the head might end up a bit distorted.

She puts one hand to her mouth. Sniffles a little. Her tail swishes like she’s an overstimulated kitten. Then she takes it, stuffs it in her bag, and scampers over to the changing stalls in the back of the store.

[hr]

[i]The game is the game. The yoke settles about the hips; the bracers are oil-shining. The ball that the gods use is a painted skull. Sharp its teeth, deadly its bite. Its name is Eight Black Death.

Dishai served then the ball to the yoke of the goddess, and where it struck the ground, it crashed about the entire court, howling and biting. Light her feet; quick her leaping.

And did you learn this from your doll, Manikin, asked Dishai. Strike the ball, show us your yoke-skill. Do you show us Irtana’s first avoidance? Do you not wish to play the game?

The goddess bared her teeth; the goddess stood her ground. Before the eyes of the Grandmothers she would not show fear; before the assembly of the gods she would not be shamed.

Thus she was defeated.

By the yoke was she thrown across the ball court; by the yoke did Dishai undo her. Deep within her lodged the teeth, and her bones were sent shivering across the court. By this means did the goddess of the high mountain and the avalanche subdue the goddess.

Yet still the bones leapt up and formed her form again, and at this defiance, Dishai relented. Even dolls strive, Dishai said. Will you yet save yours, doll-of-dolls? Mu Ysha smells her incense burning on the ships; Irtana wears her peril-face. If you do not protect your doll, you will be condemned to the Six Dreadful Houses while you yet live.

So saying, she plucked up the goddess and hung her in the branches of the apple-tree, to serve as a lesson to those who came before and those yet to come.[/i]