The air hung heavy, stillness enveloping the scene. Yet, neither the Master nor the Emperor shared this frozen inertia.
The Master, resolute, gathered his will and rose from the porch, and reached the Emperor, who drenched from head to toe still continued his tirade against the water.
"We'll retrieve him, wherever he's ended up. He's not as hopeless as you think; he can handle it."
The Emperor, defeated, sank to the ground. "How wrong I was," He muttered, hands covering his face.
The Master came close and leaned over, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then asked. "Am I correct in understanding that my charge was merely this pond?"
The Emperor looked up and nodded. Master extended a hand, helping the Emperor to his feet. "It's a rift," the Emperor confessed. "I hoped secrecy would minimize problems. Now I see my mistake."
"And this pond," the Master mused, "is the rift connecting worlds—the gateway alongside the Darkness?"
"Exactly," the Emperor grumbled, shaking off wet clothes, then tiered to face the Master. "I assume you're unconcerned about the Prince, aren't you?"
"Most likely," the Master replied, pride coloring his tone. "He won't be alone; he'll have company."
The Emperor's gaze darkened, demanding the explanation.
"A few days ago, my servant vanished. We searched everywhere, even the pond." The Master's revelation hung in the air. "We found his hair ribbon there. How could he lose it in such a shallow water, I thought, and ordered it drained, but futile. Now I see, that he's likely where the Prince now follows."
The Emperor's eyes widened—surprise or horror, perhaps both. Silence settled, broken only by the Emperor's intense scrutiny of the pond and its surroundings.
"What are you looking for, Your Majesty?" the Master asked.
"Where's everything you pulled out—plants, mud, lilies, fish?"
The Master hesitated. "Monks handled it."
With a snap of the Emperor's fingers, life surged back—the falling buckets, monks' shouts, and scattered chaos and a ragamuffin who immediately fled, pursued by the crowd.
"Everyone, halt!" the Master commanded. The Emperor observed, unmoving.
"Bring the one who drained the pond," the Master declared. Whispers rippled among the monks, but none stepped forward. "Show yourself, or your rooms burn!"
"I," one voice confessed.
"And I."
"And I," echoed from the crowd.
After they revealed themselves, the courtyard emptied, leaving only those standing.
"Now," the Master addressed you, "where's the pond's bounty—plants, flowers, fish?"
All three pointed at once to buckets and dried piles at the distance.
The Emperor's sudden roar sent the light bursting from his palm, aimed at the indicated spot. Everything from there scattered in different directions and only one dry lily remained hanging in the air, bathed in golden radiance. Monks gasped, fleeing in fear.
"Your servant won't return," the Emperor declared, eyes on the dried lily.
"What?" The Master's cry echoed. "Why?"
"You deprived him of the actual vessel that bound his body, if I'm not wrong, this one is cursed," the Emperor gestured to the lily. "He'll remain there forever," and pointed to the pond this time.
Then with a wave, the golden frame dissipated, and the lily turned to dust. Another wave enveloped the pond in a warm glow.
"That's good!" the Emperor said.
"What's good about it?!" the Master protested almost crying.
"The other vessels still remain. The Prince will return!"
*Thx for reading.