The Mistress of the Tower:
(1911 A.D., The Pale Tower, Old Wonderland, the Realm of Ishrakie)
The ethereal blue moon leers down from the umbral twinkling sky. The bitter night air violates Alice to the bone, but she does not bend to it nor does she shiver at its touch. She has traveled far too long for that. Days fading into weeks, weeks into months. Time has long since sacrificed all meaning to her now, lost in the midst of constant struggle. Alice knows she is drawing close to the answer she has sought for so long, the salvation she has fought and bled to reach. She can feel that she is at last on the precipice of her journey's end.
The Tower she has been seeking for so long now stands within her sight, its great pearlescent halo radiating just beyond the horizon of the forest canopy stretching out before her. She pushes onward. The dirt path she now walks slopes upward over a small hill ahead of her but is obstructed by dark green overgrowth of dense thorny bushes and vines. Unwilling to be deterred any longer, she pushes her way through them, her voice a constant echoing song of painful screams and determined growls.
She forces her body between dense brier patches. They catch the ragged ends of her used-to-be dress, further tearing it, leaving her completely naked and exposed to the barbarism of the cold, harsh world. Large thorns pierce and dig into her soft, supple flesh, leaving bleeding shallow trenches across her skin but she dares not be distracted by the pain, she dare not waver even for a moment. She refuses to falter; she rages on, lest her last shred of sanity fall away from her. She binds her attention firmly on keeping her feet moving and her hand firm around the hatchet handle.
Stepping clear of the brambles, bushes and vines, she mounts the crest of the small hill. Through a gap between the thick sprawling branches above her, she can see her destination even more clearly. She can see the whole top half of the tower. It glows like condensed starlight. As she continues with all haste along the path, the trees thin out, letting more bright specks of the tower shine through. Even at her current distance, she can feel the pale ghostly light radiating from the tower. It's soothing and yet invigorating. She forgets her fatigue, and all the dangers she has endured. She rushes on towards the tower myopically focused on her destination, darting through the shadowed landscape towards the light illuminating the end of her long dark road. The light of a way home.
Naked, dirty, bleeding and drenched in sweat and tears, she shatters through the edge of the forest. At last, she comes into the vast illuminated circular clearing where the glowing, white stone base of the tower juts out from the cool, wet grass and stabs into the violet jewel-speckled firmament above. At the base of the magnificent structure, she collapses, panting, exhausted, triumphant. Refuge, at last, she thinks, salvation. The last step home.
Collapsed upon the altar of her journey's end, she, at last, allows herself to reflect on all the pain and torment she had endured to get here. The biblical accounts her sister used to read to her do not seem so silly anymore. On the contrary, they now seem blunted and dulled. Despite all the suffering, she overcame every hardship from starvation to combat spurred on by the one all-consuming desire; the desire to go back to her beloved sister, to her cherished mother, to her loving home. But what of that home? She is not the same girl who left it. After everything she has endured, all that she has done is she even worthy of that love, of that home anymore? This feeling, this fear has become her dark passenger, her nagging, nipping companion throughout her quest. Now that she is here, it fills her with trepidation and it is this same dark passenger who now accompanies her as she climbs back to her feet and presses forward across the radiant threshold of the tower.
Her filthy, naked feet look even more black, back-lit by the silver light of the tower steps. What she first takes to be marble is actually some form of warm milky-white crystal moulded seamlessly into the form of architecture. The door at the top of the stairs, though ornate, reminds her of the door at home with the same handle and thumb latch. She knocks, swaying a little. Unable to anticipate who or what might answer.
She glances back for a moment. It feels strange standing at the door. A great wave of isolation washes over her. From where she now stands, all the world outside the perimeter of the tower's plasmatic aura seems to exist only as endless darkness. No forest, no assaulting wind, no monsters. She feels as if she's suddenly adrift in an infinite void. A void between everywhere and nowhere, between nothing and everything, between the final moment of who she was and the eternity of who she will become.
Perhaps I've died, and this is heaven, she thinks to herself. Every rapping of her fingers against the door seems to reverberate, echoing all around her, through her. The noise of her knocking grows into a cascading cacophony of noise, threatening to extinguish her completely until suddenly it all gives way to silence as the door opens. She is greeted by a man in a purple pin-striped suit. His teeth are thin and sharp.
"We've been expecting you. Please, do come in. My mistress is very eager to meet you."
She moves to enter, falling forward as the darkness takes her.
******
Alice awakens in a room made of shining white crystal moulded perfectly into polished, smooth form. The bed on which she lays is both exceedingly cosy yet curiously familiar. She snuggles her face into the soft, comfy pillow beneath her, trying to remember how she actually got into the bed. The "bed" if you can call it that, appears to be a perfect mimicry of her bed at home. Only upon close inspection does it become clear that it too glistens slightly with the same sheen as the rest of the room, as if the bed and room are composed somehow of the same material, yet not.
Alice untucks herself from the bed. Climbing to her feet, she is greeted by the realisation that she is still very naked. As embarrassment flushes her cheeks, a portion of the nearby crystal wall morphs into a long pole adorned with a replica of her favourite blue dress from back home with black buckle shoes and white leggings to match.
Alice's heart spills over with glee at the sight of the familiar dress. She reaches out to grab it but stops herself just short of reaching it, taking note of the fact that she is still covered in blood and muck. With no more than a thought of a soothing bath, the sound of gently bubbling water breaks the silence. She turns her gaze to the source of the sound. She finds that what she was sure was once an empty corner of the room now contained a sunken square pool of inviting, churning water. It seemed only big enough for perhaps two people at most, which is more than enough for her.
Alice makes her way over to the sunken pool, climbing into the relaxing warm waters of the tub. The steam of the water works wonders, breaking through all the dirt and dust that has accumulated in her sinuses over the long journey, allowing her to breathe more easily. A soft moan of tranquil pleasure escapes from Alice's lips as the bubbles massage her body, chipping away at all her built-up tension and stress. The water works against the deep lacerations covering her back causing her to wince.
"I see the tub is to your liking. I hope the dress and bed are as well."
Alice yelps slightly as she stands up, turning towards the source of the unknown voice. Alice's eyes are greeted by a hovering shimmering sphere of pulsating pink and white churning light. An amused giggle escapes the sphere as it transforms, expanding and twisting into the outline of a person before condensing into the flesh and blood form of a beautiful slender-built woman. To Alice's uneducated eye, the women seemed to be born of some sort of Asian descent.
The woman has jagged shoulder-length platinum hair. Her whole body, from her delicate-looking flesh and eyes to her hair, seems to emit an unearthly palish-pink glow. Alice stands transfixed by the radiant being standing before her until she suddenly remembers her nakedness and immediately lowers her body as quickly as she can back into the water, blushing with embarrassment.
"I am so sorry, dear, I didn't mean to intrude, but there is no need for embarrassment. Modesty may be a virtue to some, but it is not one I have ever put much stock in." The mysterious woman giggles for a moment.
"I mean, after all, you mortals are born naked, so why should nakedness cause you embarrassment? I am certainly not offended by it." The woman's voice seems to echo with the sound of many voices within it all at once.
Alice wondered if it is the voice of many women or perhaps all women speaking in unison. She thinks to herself for a moment about the woman's words. She herself had often wondered why the natural state of being naked was so frowned upon. She realises she has never really figured out a satisfying answer. However, this woman was still a stranger, so Alice thought it best to keep her body hidden beneath the water, at least for now.
"If you would please forgive my bluntness, who are you?"
"Who me? Oh... You, mortals, have called me by so many names. However, none of you have ever gotten it right" The woman laughs for a moment, covering her mouth with her hand. "But if you must call me something, you may call me Ishrakie. I am the Master of this Tower and all her sisters throughout the Multiverse." Ishrakie kneels playfully to Alice before vanishing and suddenly reappearing naked in the water of the bath behind her.
"These cuts are deep and need proper treatment," whispers Ishrakie, ghosting her hands over the deep lacerations up and down Alice's back.
Unable to shake her embarrassment and unsure of what to do, Alice decides to just keep facing forward, allowing Ishrakie to examine her wounds.
"Again I apologise, but what are you?" asks Alice.
"Okay, three things; one please stop apologising for asking questions. There is nothing wrong with wanting answers or being curious. Two; what I am would be difficult to explain in terms you can understand. The most accurate answer I can give is that I am what you mortals would call a goddess. Three; I would like you to drink the contents of that bottle." Ishrakie points one of her hands at the edge of the tub in front of Alice, causing a small bottle to appear out of thin air.
"So let me get this straight. You're a goddess," replies Alice quizzically.
"Yes, That's right," responds Ishrakie, amused by the confused look on Alice's face.
"Okay… and what's in the bottle? It won't make me grow, or shrink, or become a balloon and float into the sky?" asks Alice, examining it.
Ishrakie lets out a small laugh. "No my dear, it's a brew that will help heal any remaining internal injuries you may have sustained along your journey," answers Ishrakie.
Alice does as she is instructed and drinks the contents of the bottle as Ishrakie rubs a heated, viscous substance over Alice's back wounds. The substance sends surges of pleasurable warmth through Alice's body, causing little quivers to dance across her lips. Her muscles sink into a state of deep relaxation. Alice leans forward, resting her head against her arms on the edge of the tub.
"Wha… what is tha… that you're app… applying," asks Alice, trying to keep her voice steady.
"This substance is designed to hasten the healing of external injuries and prevent infection. Is it not satisfactory?" asks Ishrakie.
"No… it's… it's fine… it's wonderful," answers Alice as tiny little moans of tranquil relief escape her.
"I'm glad. Your journey here was rough, but I am beyond happy that you have finally made it to this place, to me," continues Ishrakie.
The air in front of Alice swirls, coalescing into the form of the tattered ripped clothing she had lost outside the tower.
"I had these retrieved just in case they still held any sentimental value to you. Do you wish to keep them?"
Alice just stares at her old clothes for a moment, examining all the dirt and bloodstains that cover them, each a reminder of all the suffering she had endured to get here. Her eyes move from examining the torn dress to the remains of her mangled panties, noticing a bloodstain she had not noticed along her journey, nor can she remember how the blood had gotten there.
"No… they hold no positive value for me. I have no need for them," responds Alice, allowing herself to relax even further under Ishrakie's touch.
Alice knew it was strange, but something about Ishrakie's touch was so familiar like she had known it all her life.
"Very well." Ishrakie casts her eyes momentarily to Alice's old clothes, causing them to evaporate into a swarm of silvery glowing wisps which then vanish into nothingness.
After applying the medicinal substance, Ishrakie conjures forth a container of luminescent rose-pink liquid.
"Wait, what's that substance?" inquires Alice, gesturing to the new glowing pink substance.
Alice is surprised by the honey rose aroma that graces her nostrils as Ishrakie pours some of the substance into her hands and begins working it into the girl's skin. Even deeper waves of relaxation and pleasure wash over the golden-haired lass as the shimmering pale goddess continues washing her.
"This is a very special soap of my own creation that I made just for you. I am so glad I am finally getting a chance to use it."
"Wait, Ishrakie, if you are a goddess, did you create everything?"
"No, the multiverse is my father's creation, although I created the Vita-Vrillian Network required to sustain his creation," explains Ishrakie.
She proceeds to wash the rest of Alice's body, moving her hands up and down Alice's arms and neck, massaging and exfoliating as she goes. Ishrakie's hands move with graceful care as they carefully work the cleansing soap into Alice's newly budding breasts. Alice's lip quivers and her body subtly spasms against Ishrakie's touch.
"Are you okay, my dear? Am I being too rough? Is the soap too stimulating?" asks Ishrakie, noting Alice's minor writhing at her touch.
"No… No, I am fine. My chest has just been extra sensitive as of late," answers the young girl, regaining her composure.
Ishrakie nods understandingly. After a few minutes, Ishrakie moves from washing Alice's upper body to her lower body, starting at her lower legs and moving slowly up past the back of her knees, up the upper legs to just below Alice's bottom.
"Are you okay?" asks Ishrakie as she gingerly massages Alice's bottom, being careful to stay clear of the more sensitive areas.
Alice nods, lost in the feeling. After a few more moments of calm silence, Ishrakie steps out of the pool. Alice looks up at Ishrakie's naked body, finally getting her best look at the goddess yet. She notices Ishrakie's ears poke out from under her platinum hair ever so slightly due to their pointed Elven-like shape. Alice's gaze moves down Ishrakie's back to her exposed buttocks and then down her slender but defined legs. Ishrakie snaps her fingers with her left hand, causing the clothes that she had been wearing before to reform over her body.
"It is good to see you so relaxed and at peace. You faced many hardships getting here. I saw it, and though I was not with you, my assistant was," declares Ishrakie, snapping her fingers with her right hand, causing an elegant chair to form out of the material of the floor.
A bowing svelte man with a purple and black striped blush tail, matching dress-suit and bowler hat, steps through a flickering tear in the ether of the air beside her, the tear sealing rapidly behind him. The man has ragged dark ebony hair and bright lavender irises. He leans in close to Ishrakie as she rotates, sitting down in the chair she summoned that faces Alice.
Ishrakie turns to face the man and mouths something to him that Alice does not understand. The man nods and walks over to a nearby wall. To Alice's eye, there is a sort of subtle inhuman grace to the way the man moves as he walks. Reaching the nearby wall, he draws a square with one of his curved, pointed fingernails, causing the small square portion of the wall to swing open. He reaches into the wall up to his shoulder; feeling around. After a light clattering of porcelain, he retrieves a teapot and two cups. The man returns to Ishrakie's side with the tea. A table morphs out of the floor in front of Ishrakie, upon which the man places the tea and two cups. A dish of sugar cubes sprouts from the table next to where he places the teapot. Ishrakie gestures for Alice to sit next to her at the table as another chair grows from the floor next to Ishrakie.
Alice climbs out of the water, blushing slightly at her own nudity. Ishrakie giggles and waves her hand towards Alice, causing the replica dress, leggings and shoes hanging on the nearby pole to vanish and reappear on Alice's instantly dry body, fitting perfectly. The odd man was so familiar. Alice watches him intently as he summons up a chair of his own on the other side of Ishrakie before sitting down in it. From out of the spot on the table in front of him appears a large saucer of warm milk instead of tea. It is at this moment that realisation strikes Alice.
"Cheshire Cat... is that you?" asks a surprised Alice, abruptly.
The man grins widely. Ishrakie smiles as she drinks more of her tea, darting her gaze between Alice and Chesire.
"You got me. It's like Ishrakie said. Her assistant was with you all along, and for what it's worth I am also very glad you made it," replies Cheshire.
He drinks a bit more of his warm milk. Alice finds his style of drinking perplexing because he constantly adjusts the saucer as he drinks so that he is constantly drinking from a different section of the saucer. Ishrakie watches Alice stare at Cheshire, amused by the confused look on her face.
"So my dear Alice..." presses Ishrakie, snapping Alice from her confusion.
"Uh… oh, I am sorry. That was rude of me to stare. You were saying?" replies Alice, turning back to Ishrakie.
"Yes, it was, but we are forgiving. Tell me, what do you think of my home here?" asks Ishrakie, gesturing to her radiant surroundings.
"It's strange but in a way that is beautiful rather than deadly," Alice titters slightly.
"You mean as opposed to the more lethal strangeness of the rest of my creation," continues Ishrakie, looking at Alice from behind her teacup.
"Don't forget your favorite creation; me," muses Cheshire playfully.
"Well, of course, none of my creations can ever compare to you, my sweet kitty," coos Ishrakie, reaching over and ruffling Cheshire's hair lovingly.
Cheshire purrs, nuzzling into her touch. After a few moments, Ishrakie withdraws her hand from Cheshire as the two resume drinking their beverages. Alice finds this interaction between them fascinatingly adorable, provoking a smile to dance across her lips. Alice takes another drink of her tea. Cheshire tip-toes his fingers over to two of the sugar cubes and drops them into his milk, then continues drinking.
"This is a wonderful place, Ishrakie, really it is, but…" begins Alice.
"But it's not home. I understand. However, there is still more we need to discuss," interrupts Ishrakie understandingly.
She suddenly clenches her bosom, wincing in pain. Cheshire springs from his chair, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. Ishrakie's throat tightens and her chest heaves, her whole body savaged by painful spasms. After a few moments, the chaos of agonising tremors inside her passes, leaving her exhausted. Cheshire strokes her hair lovingly.
"However, that discussion must wait, my dear Alice. I need to rest now," continues Ishrakie, breathing heavily.
Ishrakie smiles as best she can for a moment at Alice. She nods to Cheshire before snapping her fingers and vanishing in a brilliant flash of pink-hued light.
"Is she okay?" queries Alice, turning to Cheshire.
"That question is not mine to answer," responds Cheshire with a smile.
Neither his smile nor his tone do anything to hide his obvious worry from her. She can see the fear in his eyes. The fear he seeks to hide; fear of a child facing the inevitability of a great coming loss. A feeling she knew all too well.
Cheshire and Alice continue to drink their tea in awkward silence for some time. Upon finishing his milk, Cheshire stands up, clicking his heels.
"Come, come. There is much to see," he declares to Alice, pulling an ornate pocket watch out of his waistcoat, checking the time and then placing it back into his pocket.
Alice takes one final long gulp of her tea. The young girl stands, placing her now empty teacup back onto its saucer before gesturing for Cheshire to lead the way.
Outside the room is a small landing among a spiraling staircase. The stairs seem to stretch off into infinity in both directions. They go up. Cheshire's shiny Oxfords go clicka-tap on the steps.
"Many of the rooms that will be available to you right now have been created with you in mind. They exist to help you learn what is required of you and provide you with whatever various comforts you may seek," explains Cheshire, gesturing towards the many mirror-like doors they pass while proceeding ever higher up the spiral staircase.
They move through rooms and down twisting hallways past open doorways, some spewing fragrant steam, some project music. A few of the rooms are made of blank stone and appear empty.
Alice walks silently, doing her best to take everything in as her guide continues to pontificate through abstract topics ranging from architecture to simulation programs and layers of reality. Alice barely understands him. They turn through a doorway and then proceed down a short hall before turning through another door. Alice screams as she steps through the door to find nothing but open air. She clings tight to Cheshire in fear of a fall that does not come. After a few moments, she notices that gravity seems to be asleep on the job. She looks behind to find the door back has vanished, replaced by an open sky. Looking down, she sees a vast rocky landscape stretched several hundred feet below her.
"You know you can let go of me now, child, you're quite safe," utters Cheshire, patting Alice on the head.
Alice lets go, regaining her composure.
"But how can this be, dear cat? Why do we not fall?" asks Alice, bewildered.
"What? Do you wish to fall?" retorts Cheshire with a smirk.
"No. No, of course not," replies Alice, her tone almost pleading.
"Then why should you fall?" retorts Cheshire.
"I never really considered it to be a matter of wanting?" responds Alice.
"My dear girl, some beings are bound by reality and are thus subject to rules like gravity, but some beings make reality and are thus subject to almost no rules at all. Then there are some beings that are somewhere in between these two points. For these beings, the rules may exist but are far more flexible. In this place, you and I are the latter of these three options," answers Cheshire.
Alice nods, only partially understanding. They walk through sunset skies for what seems like forever until finally passing through another door. The door opens up into a great cavernous ballroom.
The room is elegantly ornate and dazzlingly bright. From the towering ceiling hangs thousands of chandeliers. Speckled among the many chandeliers are larger, more intricate chandeliers. They are all covered with millions upon millions of tiny shimmering shards of crystalline light. Upon close inspection she can see among the many shimmering shards there are some that are dull, some are cloudy, and others are cracked and broken.
"It's beautiful!" blurts Alice in awe.
"Do you know what the circulatory system is, Alice?" asks Cheshire, staring up at the vast expanse of crystal chandeliers.
"Yes, of course, but why do you ask?"
"Well, you see, the Multiverse also has a Circulatory System, two of them actually, but one is far more important than the other. This more important system regulates the flow, build-up and integrity of Vita-Vrillian Energy; or Life Force, if that is easier for you to understand, just as your circulatory system does for the blood that moves through your body. Your body would die without your circulatory system, would it not?"
"Without a doubt," replies Alice, her tone made uneasy at the unpleasantness of the thought.
"Exactly. The Multiverse is no different. It needs this crucial circulatory system to function properly, or like you, it will die. The only difference is that in your case the death is singular and isolated, but if the Multiverse dies, everyone everywhere dies with it. All of us. Let me show you something," continues Cheshire, walking towards the centre of the room.
From the great cosmic sea of chandeliers above them descends a massive singular chandelier of splendid proportions. It descends until its lowermost dangling shard softly kisses the floor. He comes to a stop directly in front of the grand chandelier. He glances at Alice for a moment, beckoning her to his side. Alice does as she is instructed, coming to a stop beside him.
"Watch," whispers Cheshire.
He snaps his fingers and suddenly all the light in the room except for the light coming from the many millions of chandelier crystals is sucked from the room, leaving only the ghostly soft brilliance of the star-like gems. He snaps his fingers again causing a few thousand shards to exchange their gentle pale white glow for a deeper red radiance.
"These red shards are the variance worlds that contain this tower's many sisters. These towers form a network that spans the whole of the Multiverse," explains Cheshire, still whispering.
"The circulatory system you were telling me about," responds Alice softly.
"Yes, indeed. Now each of these towers does for the Vita-Vrillian Energy of the Multiverse what your heart does for your blood. Keep it all moving in a harmonious rhythm," continues Cheshire.
He reaches out and gently taps the nearest red crystal, causing them all to sing and vibrate for a moment as the most central crimson shard at the heart of the network turns a bright sapphire blue.
"That blue one there, that's here, that's this Tower. It is the most crucial. Can you guess why?" asks Cheshire, kneeling and placing an arm around her shoulder.
"It's because of Ishrakie, isn't it? It's because this is her tower specifically," responds Alice as understanding settles upon her.
"Correct, but why is Ishrakie so important to this system? She created it, yes, but why else?" presses Cheshire, giving the young girl a smirk before turning his attention back to the chandelier.
"Well, I was told my brain controls my heart, so maybe Ishrakie is the brain of the network. Since she made the network, it is a part of her and thus needs her in order to function just like my heart needs my brain," answers back Alice, a subtle grim feeling building inside her.
"Bravo. Very good. Exactly right," continues Cheshire as he stands back, giving the girl a brief but playful applause.
Cheshire extends his hands towards the grand chandelier, causing it to ascend back into its original place among its sister chandeliers above them.
"She's dying, isn't she?" asks Alice, her voice soft but serious as the frigid blade of dreadful realisation peaks within her.
"I think I have shown you enough for now," responds Cheshire, his voice suddenly shaky.
He avoids direct eye contact with the girl as he turns to face her, masked by a fake smile, but his eyes betray him, confirming Alice's suspicions.
"I should go check on my master," continues Cheshire, snapping his fingers, causing them to be instantly teleported back to the room where Alice and Ishrakie had enjoyed their tea.
Alice lowers her head, saddened by what she knows, but Cheshire refuses to say.
"This room is to be your resting area while you are here. You should get some sleep," explains Cheshire before turning and making his way over to the door, opening it.
"I'm sorry," mutters Alice understandingly to him.
Cheshire pauses mid-step for a moment at her words before leaving and shutting the door behind him.