Lucid Castle

Mitsu had thirsted to see the castle in person from the moment he’d laid eyes upon it. Even as they stood outside the milky walls that guarded the inner palace, his curiosity hadn’t abated in the slightest.

Waterfalls of honey pooled down into lakes of abundance from the mighty walls, and Mitsu was almost tempted to run his fingers through its stickiness. Instead, he continued to enjoy the tender pressure of Amber’s open palm pressed against his as he held her hand.

Amber nodded at the ginger-bearded guard as they arrived at the entrance. The castle—despite its fortified structure—did not actually boast a gate at all, allowing him just the smallest taste of what would normally be beyond his reach. It was only once the guard pulled out his wand and popped the translucent, bubble-like barrier in front of them that he realized there was no need for doors at all.

They wordlessly passed the guard through the tunnel-like gateway until the light lit their skin with warmth again. Mitsu could only breathe, suddenly so aware of his mortality, as he finally witnessed the Lucid castle in all its resplendent glory.

The structures were as they were when he first saw them. Overrun with honeycombs to the point of ruin. However, he had not been close enough to notice how the bees made their homes in them, greeting each other with busy hums as they flew back and forth from their jobs as laborers for the queen.

A saccharine scent was in the air, and it was almost as captivating as the flowers that lay luxuriously at his feet. The flowers were like the castle— mystical and unlike anything he had seen before. Their petals, which were a pristine white, boasted a yellow hue near their inner center and the starkest black leaves he’d ever seen.

If he looked carefully, maybe they could be mistaken for a deep, bruised green, but as they shone in the sun, they looked an unmistakable velvety black. He wasn’t sure how he should feel when he looked at them or what aspect of them he should devote his attention to.

Should he admire the lightness of the petals or the starkness of its leaves? Even after they finished navigating the fields, the melodies of the songbirds, and arrived at the cold marble steps at the entrance, he still wasn’t sure.

The measured steps of the castle were surprisingly empty as Mitsu stood before them, and as if anticipating his curious questions, Amber already had the answers on her lips. “The castle grounds haven’t been opened to the public yet, but normally the royal family's attendants bring out dozens of hives to their front steps so festival goers can tell the bees.”

“So this where I’ll finally…?”

“No,” Amber said, “we’re actually going somewhere else.” She didn’t explain much further, and so Mitsu could only focus on his increasingly parched throat as she led him to the side of the castle, an area that seemed to shelter a forest of its very own.

Amber walked the maze-like path through the trees with practiced steps, leaves crunching underneath her feet. He was sure if it were anyone less familiar with the forest, it could have taken up half a day to find the exit. In their case, however, the journey is only long enough to add a few beads of sweat down his neck.

The entrance that they arrive at this time is much smaller. It looked like there was only enough room for one person to squeeze through the golden gilded door at a time. All the same, it looked greatly loved. It was immaculate, even timeless in its presentation, and Mitsu felt like if anything deserved the title of “door to another world,” this was it.

Amber placed her hand on the door, and it opened with just her slight touch.

She finally let go of his hand.

Amber entered first, and Mitsu followed behind her slowly, his footsteps filled with trepidation as he tried to understand the level of reverence he owed to such a place.

“Not what you were expecting, is it?” Amber asked as he took in the room.

The inside actually seemed like a continuation of what he’d seen in the forest. Full trees were towering above them, flowers sprinkled like confectionary in the nooks and crannies of the room, and the light was shining down on their faces through the glass pane in the ceiling. It was unexpected but familiar. The only real difference from the forest outside was the beehive skep sitting on an old tree stump in the center of the room, its presence ancient and serene.

All Mitsu could muster to say as he stood before it all was, “This is unreal.”

Amber seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry the first time I visited this place,” she said, her voice nostalgic. “It’s the oldest hive in Ferris, so sometimes they allow beekeeping students to come see this place. I was a little girl when I first saw it, and I’ve been obsessed ever since.”

She looked like she was trying to hold back her laughter, clearly remembering something fond as she ran her hand down the rugged bark of one of the trees. “I’m happy they gave me permission to take you here.”

“Thank you,” Mitsu whispered, “for asking them. I don’t think I would want to do this in front of a crowd.”

“I figured not,” Amber said. She pulled a black crepe cloth from a hollow in one of the trees and held it draped between her fingers. “I can leave too if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I want you to be here.”

She laid the cloth in his hands. “Your words should be for the bees alone,” she said. “I’ll cast a spell on myself so I can’t hear what’s shared between you, but…I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” he said again, almost frustrated he had no better words of gratitude for all she’d done for him.

Amber smiled at him as if she knew what was bothering him but still said, “You’re welcome.”

He looked down at the cloth in his arms; it was strangely heavy. “I’m not sure how this works. What should I be doing with this?”

“Before you tell the bees of her passing and relay your message to her, you need to drape this cloth over the hive to put them into mourning,” she explained. “Other than that, there’s no proper way to do this. Sing to them, talk to them, however you want to express yourself, it’s up to you.”

“However I want...” Mitsu trailed off. Amber stepped away as Mitsu took his fateful feet and stood in front of the hive. “However I want,” he repeated to himself.

Mitsu stared down at the cloth before kissing it, letting the press of the almost scratchy cloth linger against his lips as he closed his eyes.

Then, fingers trembling, he carefully draped it across the top of the wickerwork that made up the hive. As he pulled away to admire his work, he couldn’t help but think it was dreadfully messy. With the way he was beginning to shake, he didn’t think he could do much better.

He spared one last glance at Amber over his shoulder. She gestured to her ears to show she couldn’t hear, and Mitsu almost felt guilty for his relief.

He’d waited a long time for this moment. Too long. And so, with a boldness he’d never said the words with before, he told the bees, “My wife, Sakura, has passed away.”