Chapter Text
Moonlight shining on crystals in a dark cave.
Reflections in the facets: paths converging in a snowy wood.
Clock bells chime. The reflections flicker; paths bend, circle, disappear.
It wasn’t an easy thing to read the future.
Seeing the future was less of a problem. Little glimpses were possible, of a wedding or a funeral or tomorrow's weather. But beyond those fleeting images, there was so much of it, and so little ever certain until minutes or seconds before it happened. To understand that about time’s nature, to make sense of it, was difficult. Most humans couldn’t focus through that kind of uncertainty for long.
Crystal Path knew more than one fellow Innocence who wouldn’t be able to handle it, and humans were much, much more fragile than herself and her kind.
For that reason, Crystal Path had spent long stretches of her seven thousand years alone.
She tended to pick her accommodators carefully, and bond strongly with them early on. There wasn’t much choice if she wanted their synchro rate to be useful together; and besides, she liked it that way.
Her preference tended towards artists, philosophers, teachers and the occasional scientist. Above all, her people needed to have a mind open to possibilities, and they needed to be quick on their feet. Crystal Path couldn’t defend her chosen directly until they reached the critical point, and that could take years. Early warnings were all she could offer to them until then.
Ideally they would be in the company of other accommodators, who could fight for and alongside them until they could defend themselves. But, in unfortunate truth, very few of her people ever got there.
Mei-Ling was a significant exception.
Crystal Path arrived in what would grow into Bú Mei-Ling’s family with little fanfare. It'd been like any other stop on her long journey. She’d been a crystal ball for a number of decades by that point, passed between hands until she'd rested on a high shelf with other precious things in the home of a Chinese family, in a small fishing village in the mountains.
The middle daughter of the house, Yàn, had eventually married a friendly boy from the next town over. Yàn’s aunt had given Crystal Path to the new bride as a wedding gift.
The new house that she was brought into was small, which suited the newlyweds fine. Crystal Path had been moved to a low table in an out of the way corner and then almost forgotten.
She floated in her visions, for the most part. When she wasn’t watching futures flow in and out of existence, she watched the humans.
She liked the little Jiàng family—Yàn, who Crystal Path had known since her birth, and her new husband Mǐn, as well as Yǒng, Mǐn’s aging father. Mǐn was a good man who had reasonable skill with woodcarvings. He sold his work in the village’s market square.
Yàn watched after the house, doing long hours of work cleaning and preparing meals and washing and mending, as well as making new friends with neighbours, and sitting with her father-in-law to go over the books the old man had in his collections.
Yǒng had been a craftsman in his youth, like his son, but as he’d gotten older his hands had swollen up to the point where writing was easier for him than wielding tools. He enjoyed sharing the poems he'd collected with his daughter-in-law.
They got along well. Mǐn would come home in the evenings and all three of them would eat together, usually contently.
None of them were suited to be Crystal Path’s accommodator, but they were good people. She’d been warmed by their excitement when they were expecting the first baby a few months into Yàn and Mǐn’s marriage.
Mei-Ling had arrived into the world in late summer and taken on her father’s family name.
The first couple years of the young girl's life were unremarkable, as far as human’s lives went. Her parents and grandfather all adored her. There were hard times, and easier times, and through all of them she grew.
The town’s only midwife died when Mei-Ling was two years and six months old. The community mourned her passing, especially as she hadn’t taken an apprentice. Birthing was dangerous work to do alone. When Yàn grew pregnant again soon later, her and Mǐn loaded up the one cart the family owned so they could go be with Yàn’s family until their new child joined them.
Crystal Path, unseen, fretted back and forth in front of their bed as they talked out the plan. She wished they wouldn’t go, but could do nothing to stop it.
Yàn’s home village was about four days away on a road through rocky hills. It would be difficult to bring Mei-Ling along safely. She could walk and talk by then, and had grown to be a cheerfully rambunctious toddler. Since she didn’t need to nurse anymore, her parents decided to leave her with Yǒng until they returned. It was, after all, only a temporary trip.
The day Yàn and Mǐn left they both pressed kisses all over their daughter’s small chubby face. Yǒng encouraged Mei-Ling to wave at them as their cart and donkey moved down the road.
The little girl would never see them come back.
Mei-Ling was still too young to properly understand what had happened. At first, on most days, she would wake up and call through the house for her mother and father.
But, as she grew, she called for them less and less. Eventually she forgot almost all about her parents. Her grandfather became the only family she knew.
And she was happy. Her grandfather told her stories at night, and tightly held her small hand on their daily visits to the market square. Mei-Ling babbled Mandarin with him as happy as a bird in a nest (although half of it was nonsense, of course). The other villagers called her little sparrow with affectionate smiles when she toddled by in the street. She laughed brightly and was full of questions.
Crystal Path, unseen and watchful as ever, was surprised.
She liked the little girl, as she’d liked Mei-Ling’s parents and grandfather. Mei-Ling was a curious child, growing into kindness, energetic and happy to please. But there was more than that. Underneath everything the people around her could see, not-yet-awakened parts of Mei-Ling’s soul burned. Determination, stubbornness, a deep-seated need to help and protect. All qualities that a good accommodator possessed.
Futures were so rarely certain. Mei-Ling had possibility inside her nonetheless: a small light flickering.
Over the centuries Crystal Path had bonded with several child accommodators, choosing them for their imagination and spirit. They were always a privilege to watch grow. Crystal Path always ached most fiercely when she lost them. It wasn’t an easy decision to make.
She hesitated for another two years; no time at all to her, but it was astonishing how much Mei-Ling changed.
When Mei-Ling was four years old, Crystal Path knelt in the dark beside the little girl’s sleeping pallet and listened. Her dreams were complicated and wild, as those of children often were. Fantastications and memories chased each other in and out of the depths of her mind.
The Innocence stayed there all night, considering.
The next morning after breakfast, Mei-Ling wandered into the corner of her home's main room. She didn’t usually play there, as her grandfather had told her over and over there was a lot of glass and glass things cut when they broke. But something felt… good in the corner. Right. She was sure she wanted to play there today.
Mei-Ling couldn’t see over the small wooden table that took up most of the corner. She was tall enough to reach it if she stretched, though, and she ran her hand over the table curiously. Suddenly, her palm ran into something smooth and cold. It seemed to warm up when she touched it, like it was saying hello to her.
She blinked, then balanced on her tip-toes, clutching onto the side. Mei-Ling could just barely see the crystal ball sitting there. Her face shone and reflected brightly. She reached out.
Crystal Path reached back.
For a few weeks she and Mei-Ling shared a quiet partnership. Then others took notice.
It started when Mei-Ling outgrew her shoes, and exclaimed happily to her grandfather that she was right about Miss Jin having new sandals today! as they stood in the middle of the market. The stall owner, laughing, asked the young child how she’d known. Mei-Ling replied proudly that her crystal ball had shown her.
News spread quickly that the young Jiàng girl who lived with her grandfather could tell fortunes. People started knocking on the door of the house, first curious and then enthralled.
Crystal Path saw no harm in it. Mei-Ling was thrilled to do readings for anyone who asked. Yǒng, for his part, would never prevent his beloved granddaughter from anything that would make her happy. He did impose a firm schedule to keep Mei-Ling from wearing herself out, since she was just a growing girl. Otherwise he let her do as she wished. Eventually it became routine.
Thanks to Mei-Ling’s gift, her and Yǒng were unofficially given a new name by the townspeople: Bú, the seers.
A member of the village council approached Yǒng when Mei-Ling was seven. He offered the two of them a new home in the wide, walled lot by the top of the village. A rich man and his family and servants had lived there until ten years earlier, when the man had passed on. The rest of the family moved away and the lot had been standing empty ever since. There would need to be repairs done, the scribe explained, but a few villagers had offered to help clean and restore it as much as was needed.
Crystal Path watched the encounter curiously. She'd heard of the estate from a few villagers waiting in line to have their fortunes read, days before. “It’s a pity such a sweet girl lives in so small a house,” one woman had whispered to her friend.
That sentiment, apparently, had spread through the town.
“Your granddaughter gives us all a blessing,” the man said to Yǒng when he’d finished laying out the offer. He smiled. “It’s something to show our gratitude. Please consider it, at least.”
Yǒng had thanked the man and shown him out.
Then he’d gone into the back room of their small house, where Mei-Ling had been having a nap after long hours of smiling and telling fortunes. Yǒng watched her sleep for a minute, then went to sit beside her, wincing at his knees’ creaking. He spread out the papers he’d been noting poetry down on earlier in the day and started tallying numbers instead.
After a few minutes, he sat back, then looked at the child again. He smiled softly.
Mei-Ling and her grandfather moved into the large house when she was seven and a half. Of course, they took Crystal Path with them. They loved their new home, and she was glad she'd been able to give them that.
As time went on Crystal Path became more and more sure of her young accommodator. Mei-Ling accepted the Innocence’s visions with grace and excitement, always happy to tell the villagers who wanted guidance what she could see. She never showed signs, outward or inwards, of not being able to handle or understand what she was shown.
Admittedly, the Innocence had intentionally tried to keep the visions she showed the young girl lighthearted. She had learned to be careful with her accommodators. Sometimes strain could show itself suddenly, and someone who’d previously been strong and whole could fracture from the edges in. Mei-Ling was too young yet.
That was what she’d told herself, anyway. She always got so attached to the children. It was impossible not to.
By the time Mei-Ling turned ten, Crystal Path had been ruminating on the visions of the Black Order for a while. The akuma; an aftermath of a terrible battle; would-be fellow Exorcists, all so young, bloodied and fallen.
It was a hard lesson for her girl to learn. She understood that. But Mei-Ling had to know. The day was coming quickly, and there would be no other choice.
Crystal Path had all faith in her accommodator to make the right decision. She needed to have courage, that was all. Mei-Ling had grown wonderfully, and she still had so many chances to improve.
The Black Order would be good for her. She would have to leave her grandfather, which Crystal Path was sorry for, but there'd be others at the Order who she would care for and who’d care for her in return. Mei-Ling would learn to use Crystal Path as she was meant to be used: held out steadily to light the way, so others could see the fight ahead.
Despite the darkness of the hour and her worry for her girl, Crystal Path was excited. This was the closest her accommodator had gotten to what she wanted for them in... longer than she cared to reckon with. And, for her own part, she was happy to be with other Innocences again soon. She was a weapon of God meant to be used in concert with others, and she'd been alone for so long.
There were other considerations, too, that she watched grow clearer as Mei-Ling slept— prophecies and fates. Events moving like wind currents, stirring the fog.
It was almost time.
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