> Visually, Alice is unassuming. Dirty-blonde hair pokes out from under a brown hooded cloak, and underneath the cloak you can catch glimpses of earthy blues and reds.
> Everything else about her is an enigma, however. The secrecy that covers everything about her is so deep it makes your eyes water, Haste occasionally bubbles its way to the surface and a strange crimson tint colours everything about her.
> She leads you through the wondrous halls of the Ministry, and what splendors surround you! Mozaics on the floors and walls portray familiar scenes of autumn, but also ones that you have not seen before: strange trees flower brightly against backgrounds of endless sands and vast seas hide bright bursts of yellow. In grand indoor gardens grow plants both known to you and completely exotic, and beasts, birds and insects of myriad variety roam freely in these gardens.
> Alice opens a door and suddenly everything is subdued - redwoods and dark granite make for a focused working atmosphere. Desks stand in rows a large hall surrounded by tall bookshelves filled to the top with tomes and documents. Ghost-lights flit between the bookshelves, and small bird-like spirits tirelessly ferry papers back and forth between the bureaucrats at the desks and the bookshelves.
> Alice leads you deep into the maze of bookshelves, where, in a small alcove, a girl with bright yellow hair sits, reading. She looks up at your arrival.
> "This is her," says Alice.
> "Of course/Of course," says the girl, two voices coming from her mouth in harmony, "she is so like her/she is so like her. Thank you, Alice/Thank you, Alice."
> Alice nods, looks around, and disappears into the maze of bookshelves.
> The girl looks directly at you, and it is as if there are two people sitting on the spot where she is. Like strange overlapping images of the same girl but in different clothing, they sometimes waver and shift onto each other.
> "We are Quiet Leaves of Autumn and Bountiful Harvest of Autumn. We know you do not have much time/We know you do not have much time, so listen closely/so listen closely."
> She spreads her hands, and the air shifts in the space between, and she starts drawing with her finger like a brush in the shifting air and pictures start to appear.
> She tells you of the time your mother came to a particular region in the north-east and, with a heroic effort, made rain where none should have been. A great Dragon Serpent came to challenge her, for it wanted to devour both children of Autumn, and Quiet Leaves/Bountiful Harvest explains in detail, with illustrations, how your mother fought the Dragon.
> "This all you know/This all you know," she says, "but we saw more/but we saw more."
> It was as if your mother hesitated during the fight, as if she were listening to a disembodied voice. Quiet Leaves/Bountiful Harvest heard only fragments, but she mentions how Alice later filled in the story.
> "Your mother was part of a legend she was not meant to be in/she was not meant to be in. There/there-"
> She stops, interrupted by Alice emerging from the maze of bookshelves again.
> "It is best that I tell this part," says Alice, "as I was as complicit in it as all the others."
> She sits down and continues telling the story.
> "Your mother had found a book, you see, we called it the Broken-Winged Crane. A strange volume bound in the skin and bone of dead gods that had not yet been born that often tended to narrate the reader's actions as the reader read it. It was enchanted with strange spells - reading before or after the present, as it were, became increasingly difficult as the content delved into more and more obscure reference and metaphor. Between an ... associate of mine and me, we managed to convince your mother not to read it, but instead to give it to us for research."
> Alice pauses briefly to arrange her thoughts.
> "And research it we did. A team of the greatest minds of our time. We came to the conclusion that the book was a weapon, aimed solely at Are. It was a proof, beautifully-written, absolutely incontrovertible, with explanations, references and demonstrations of every point of contention. A proof that your mother's life was not her own."
> Alice shakes her head.
> "I still cannot imagine what that realisation would do to your mother's mind, but I tried my best to convince the rest of the group to keep the contents of the book a secret. I failed. Before the White-Lotus Monk could work her magic, one of the group relayed the truth to your mother."
> Alice glances at Quiet Leaves/Bountiful Harvest.
> "That was during the Gathering Clouds of Heaven event. I am still wrapping my mind around the causes and effects, but the Broken-Winged Crane is an artifact that exists outside of Fate. The Orrery cannot perceive it. And it was that book that caused - directly or indirectly - your mother to perform an act she was not meant to."
> "She was already not herself then/She was already not herself then," says Quiet Leaves/Bountiful Harvest, "when she came back to forge the sword/when she came back to forge the sword."
> "All track of her was lost then," says Alice. "And then, some time later, you, her daughter, popped up."
> Alice comes in closer to look deeply into your eyes. In hers, you can see a hostile crimson light glowing brightly.
> "Your mother wanted revenge. She is no longer around, but her desire still lives. You see, I believe she forged two weapons on that day, aimed at the heart of the world. It is no surprise that these weapons would be inevitably drawn to each other. You are your mother's sword, Aichi. You will be an enemy of the world for as long as you live."
> Alice sits back, spent.
> "So now you know. I will not stop you or impede your actions, I owe your mother that much. But, at least, you might be able to make an informed choice."
