"Fine. I'll do you the favor of skipping school to give you a tour of my humble castle."
Cacophony smiled faintly, as though she had expected me to say that from the beginning. She gave off the air of a stupidly smart manga character. The type to say 'I've had this all planned out since you were in your mother's womb!' or something equally dumb, but still cool.
Lifting her palm, she gestured for me to proceed. It seemed that we weren't wasting any time getting started. As such, the first stop of our tour would be where we currently were standing, my bedroom.
I turned in a slow circle, extending an arm like a museum guide. "Behold—Veri's Chamber of Solitude. Not very large, I'll admit, but what it lacks in size it more than makes up for in mystery!"
The "chamber" in question wasn't anywhere near as spacious as my wording might convey. It was only about seven and a half by six and a half feet.
The actual contents of the room were all of a smaller size to suit the smaller room. It firstly consisted of a narrow one-person bed pushed up horizontally beside a window. Through it, soft light spilled into the room, tinted faintly blue from the ocean outside. The sea stretched endlessly beyond the glass, its morning waves flashing like shards of broken sapphire. On clear days, you could even see the gulls diving low over the water and the blurry figures of the skyscrapers in the distance, but currently, that wasn't possible. A thin fog drifted across the surface of the sea, blocking out the far-off skyscrapers and giving the horizon a sleepy, silver hue.
My bed itself was fairly regular. It was a standard 38-inch by 75-inch twin-sized bed. In other measurements, that would be 3.1 feet by 6.2 feet, or 96.52 centimeters by 190.5 centimeters. Given its length compared to the length of my room, it nearly spanned from wall to wall.
Hmm, you're asking why I'd know something as useless as that. Well, I measured it out of boredom one day, but that's besides the point.
The sheets on the bed were a dark blue, and I had a single pillow with a white casing. The frame was built from a light-brown wood, but I didn't know what kind it was exactly.
Overall, it wasn't anything special, but it was nice. It was more than spacious enough to accommodate a single person, but as shown a short while earlier, it struggled when it needed to accommodate multiple.
As she looked at it, Cacophony's gaze was already drawn to the window beside the bed. "It faces the sea, how nice," she murmured.
"Indeed it does!" I strode over and tapped the glass proudly. "A panoramic view of the endless blue! Well, normally. Today it's just fog and melancholy, but give it time, and the ocean outside will shine with the beauty of a sapphire. Hmph! Even when compared to the countless parallel worlds I've visited, this view is something special."
I spoke confidently, but it was all nonsense. Every house in this area had a view of the sea; I mean, this neighborhood is quite literally built on the water, so that was a no-brainer.
'The view can't be anything that crazy... Surely, she has seen the sea before and right now it's all covered by fog.'
The only thing that made this view special was... well, that it was my own, I guess. But, to me, that sounds like a made-up, flimsy reason.
"Now, moving on—our next artifact of note: the Shelf of Forgotten Valor and Unrequited Dreams!"
Raising both my arms, I gestured toward the next stop on our tour.
Beside the bed, an old wooden shelf leaned against the wall. It contained a variety of items, all marks of my random collection. There was a cracked snowglobe, a rusted metallic penguin, a metal with the name scratched out, and other random trinkets I'd found over time. Between them sat a row of random novels and manga volumes stacked sideways, many holding folded papers and receipts as makeshift bookmarks.
Her eyes glided along the shelf's contents. "You keep much for someone with so little space."
"It's not as though I can simply dump any of these out in the evening trash! Each and every item on this shelf has a storied history of epic proportions!"
Ignoring my words, Cacophony continued, her gaze slid to the dresser near my bed, "And that is where you keep your clothing."
Resting in the corner, near the side of my bed, was a small dresser containing all of my clothes. In all honesty, there weren't very many. Besides my school uniform and dress shirt, I only had a couple boxers, about two shirts, two pairs of shorts, and one pair of pants. Even then, one of those shirts has a tear on its left sleeve.
'Not like I can throw it away, though. I'm lucky to even have this much.'
Cacophony looked around the small room once more. "It's… modest," she said at last.
"Modest!" I repeated, grinning. "That's just another word for 'cozy.' Besides, I'm sure I don't need to remind you, but I'm currently hiding from a variety of extremely dangerous organizations. Each more mysterious than the grey fog coating the sea. The most prominent of them, the Union of Holy Justice, threatens the lives of all humans on this planet. I mustn't make a splash before I've made all the necessary preparations to meet them in battle, otherwise this whole world may be lost!"
She laughed softly at that, faint and melodic. Then she turned back to the window, gazing at the fog-veiled sea.
"As I mentioned before, this is a nice view," she said quietly. "Chalchiuhtlicue must show this land great favor."
I raised an eyebrow. "Cha-Who? If this is a god or deity, then they must be exceptionally weak. After all, if he hasn't crossed blades with me, he must not be very powerful."
Cacophony turned toward me with an amused glint in her eye. "She, not he. A goddess of water, rivers, and all other bodies of water. Still, it seems that her name, along with all the faiths that I'm accustomed to, hasn't survived into the modern day. Who is believed to command the seas in this day and age?"
"The Goddess of Swordsmanship and Purity", I said, crossing my arms.
Despite not owning a copy of any religious texts, my knowledge when it came to religion was likely on par with many devout believers. In my childhood, much of the time I spent with my mother was spent simply going over religious stories and myths. While I might not match my mother's knowledge, an everyday, casually religious person would be hard-pressed to find the difference.
Cacophony blinked once, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "A goddess of swords and seas? How interesting."
"You might not guess it by her common title," I continued, "But she actually embodies many aspects of life. Family, kinship, childbirth, purity, distant misfortune, water, and the sea. Naturally, she has also become the Patron of all seafares, navigators, swordsmen, and women in labor."
The glimmer in Cacophony's eye brightened. "Is that so? Then I'm quite pleased! Your Goddess of Swordsmanship and Purity and Chalchiuhtlicue aren't so different! Chalchiuhtlicue is also known as the goddess of childbirth and is the patron of seafarers. The concepts of family and kinship could simply be an extension of her tie to childbirth. I've no answer for her relation to swordsmanship... Nor do I have an answer for her relation to distant misfortune... Has there been an increase in water-related disasters? Floods or hurricanes, maybe? If so, then that would explain it."
I blinked.
"I—uh… yeah," I said slowly, scratching the back of my neck. "That all lines up. The goddess of Swordsmanship and Purity is tied to childbirth and the sea. She's… well, technically she's the one sailors pray to for safe passage, and mothers pray to for safe and healthy pregnancies. And there has been a drastic increase in both hurricanes and floods."
I frowned, replaying her words in my head. "Wait—did you say Chal—Chula—um, that other goddess has the same domains as the modern one?"
Cacophony nodded, her eyes still turned toward the fogged window. "Water, fertility, childbirth, and protection for those who sail. The overlap is uncanny."
Unsure of what to think, I didn't say anything.
Cacophony smiled softly before turning toward me. "Her name?"
"Her name?" I repeated, a bit caught off guard.
"Yes," she said simply. "The Goddess of Swordsmanship and Purity. What name does your people give her?"
I hesitated, glancing out at the fog where the horizon had vanished. The answer to her question easily surfaced in my mind, but somehow I felt like I was missing something crucial.
"Lumea. That's her name."
Cacophony's smile deepened in satisfaction. "Come, let us explore the other chambers of your home."
My mind remained fixated on the two goddesses, but I didn't even know where to begin when it came to untangling whatever potential relationship there was between the two. I decided to make a mental note of it and move on to something else. It's not like I was big into religion anyway. If there was a relationship between the two, it was likely that over time, one goddess turned into the other.
Chalchiuhtlicue was likely the old name for Lumea, and Lumea was likely the new name for Chalchiuhtlicue.
I doubted that it ran any deeper than that.
Content with that explanation, I focused on the tour. Turning around, I walked toward the door and twisted the knob.
"Next up, the Living Room of Eternal Prayers!" I declared, sweeping the door open with as much dramatic flair as I could muster.
Cacophony followed behind me, her silent steps making my theatrics feel somewhat excessive. Still, I pressed on. "Behold! The grand hall where all mortal comforts collide!"
The "grand hall" was, in truth, a small open space that combined both the living room and kitchen. The entire area was about twelve by fifteen feet. The tile floor shifted halfway into old wooden boards, marking where the kitchen ended and the living room began, although the distinction felt a bit unnecessary.
Raising my hands, I made a grand gesture. "This is my couch! It's the only one that could sate my ultra refined, top class tastes. A wonder of modern comfort and innovation."
A couch with a faded brown color sat in the center, my backpack and school uniform sprawled across it. Across from the couch was an LCD television from the twenty-first century, a real relic of the past. Most people likely haven't seen one in their entire lives, so in a way, I could be considered lucky.
The only reason that I have in the first place is because one of my neighbors, an irritating chump named Verone. Found it during an underwater deep scavenging voyage far off the coast. Afterwards, he brought the thing to town, but the circuits were so fried that it was effectively a piece of junk. Due to that fact, and if I had to guess, also partly due to his nature as a terrible human being and disgusting member of the lowest ranks of society, he failed the sell it. In a fit of rage, he dumped the television in the water near my house. Even if he didn't do it intentionally, I happened upon it and fished it up. From there, I managed to get it fixed at a local shop in exchange for a year's worth of savings.
The only reason I even know this story is because that damnned bastard Verone can never stop himself from blabbering on and on about every little damnned piece of useless information from his dirty, insect life.
Cacophony tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Then—lightly, almost uncertainly—she tapped my shoulder.
"Veri," she said softly, "you're frowning."
I blinked. My hand was still half-raised from gesturing dramatically toward the couch, and my jaw was tight. I hadn't even realized I'd started grinding my teeth.
"What?" I asked. "I'm fine."
She didn't look convinced. Her eyes searched my face for a moment before flicking toward the television. "You were speaking about the couch, but as soon as you looked at the television, your expression soured."
"Angry?" I scoffed, though the word stuck in my throat. "I'm not angry. Someone as amazing and sexy as I never gets angry. It's nothing to worry about. Now then, this is a television... I'll explain more later since it'll take a while."
Moving on from the television, there was another object on the television stand. To the right of the TV, a grey-ish radio sat on a lower shelf. It was an essential item for all people who lived in constant fear of power outages and emergencies. In line with this train of thought, the majority of people in this city made it a priority to buy one.
As for myself, this radio was my first purchase once I started living alone.
Cacophony pointed at the rectangular radio. "Last night I touched that device and it made a strange noise."
I chuckled. "I see. You must've heard the feedback that comes from a failed tuning. It's not something to play around with. This device is capable of listening to unexplainable magical waves that travel through the air, completely unseen by the naked eye. I hear, if you tune it just right, it might even be able to listen into conversations from parallel realities."
Cacophony summarized my ramblings. "Unseen waves that travel through the air. What a novel way to transmit information."
'How'd she manage to separate the fiction from the nonfiction?'
To the left of the living area stretched the kitchen. It was compact, but contained everything the average person needed: a counter, a couple of cabinets, a small sink, an oven, a stove with four burners, and a refrigerator that hummed lightly. Sitting on the counter was a small drying rack that I found in a trash heap.
"This is where countless master chefs have battled to sate my taste buds. Alas, none have succeeded, and so I've been left without a suitable subject to serve me meals."
"Thankfully, I have had more success than you. I've got a loyal boy who'll be making me all of my meals from now on."
"Huh?"
I gave her a sidelong stare, but she completely ignored it. Instead, she focused her attention on examining the different tools, utensils, and utilities my kitchen contained.
Cacophony trailed her fingers along the countertop, inspecting the drying rack, the metal sink, even the faint scratches in the wood where I'd once dropped a knife. Her expression was thoughtful, almost scientific.
'Isn't she a bit too into this... Even if she hasn't seen any of it before, it's nothing to get invested over...'
"A modern kitchen is much more sophisticated than I'd imagined." She hummed softly in amusement before turning toward the back of the room. Her gaze drifted to the two doors beside my bedroom—the only other ones in the entire house.
One door lies to the right of my bedroom door, and one door lies to the left.
While the one on the right was a normal wooden door, the one to the left was a sliding door, indicating that it wasn't a full-fledged room but rather a modest closet.
Cacophony stood in the center of both, awaiting for me to say something.
"The one on the right," I said, pointing, "is my Chamber of Cleansing. You may know it as a bathroom. It's where you go to both relieve yourself and clean your body. You might remember the shower that I mentioned earlier."
I gestured to the left door. "And that one," I said, lowering my voice dramatically, "is a portal to another dimension. It has been sealed away, but its power isn't to be underestimated. Trust me, you don't want to see what lies beyond it."
Cacophony tilted her head toward the sliding door. "That one, then." She paused. "I attempted to open it last night."
"You… what?"
Her tone remained perfectly casual. "My attempts to open the closet failed. It was locked, which I found strange, given that the rest of your home, save for the front door, lacks locks entirely. Decidedly, I didn't want to break the door, so I relented."
"I can't leave a portal to another dimension open. That'd be far too dangerous. Even now, I'm not at liberty to open it."
"Hmm... Alright, to the bathroom then."
Cacophony turned the knob before I could even reach for it. The door creaked open to reveal a modest bathroom—white-tiled from floor to ceiling, with the faint scent of soap and saltwater lingering in the air. The small window above the tub let in blue-ish light, the same color as the sea outside.
The space was practical. A simple toilet sat against the far wall, beside it a narrow tub with a mounted showerhead and a curtain patterned with faded blue stripes. A small sink and mirror rested near the door, their metal fixtures a bit corroded from the ocean's humidity. In one corner sat a wicker basket where one would place clothes. At the moment, the wicker basket was empty.
Cacophony walked inside and examined this room as well. She seemed particularly fascinated by the faucet and the tub. She turned the tap on and off over and over again.
"Where does the water come from? How does it get into the house?"
"Piping carries it from under the house and through the walls." I said as I walked up next to her, "This system is separated from the system that most of the city uses since this one came after. There's a whole network of pipes that bring water from a reservoir that filters and purifies seawater. Unlike the power companies, the company that manages water is supported by the local government, so it's readily accessible and the price isn't too bad."
The Southern Florida Water Management and Treatment Corporation. The name might've been a mouthful and made it sound a tad scary, but they weren't so bad. Even in this dump, as long as you went down to one of their offices and submitted a residency report, they'd come down and set up pipes for your home. This is only possible due to the South Florida government's direct support and involvement.
"They call it the Quality of Life policy. Basically, it means that the government is legally required to do its best to give any legal citizen access to safe, drinkable water in their residence. It's designed to be broad and have few restrictions. It's one of the few reasonable things the government has done in recent years."
Recent might be a stretch; it has been around since before I was born, after all. The policy was enacted about twenty years ago, after being floated around for about a decade before.
'The only reason I knew all this was because I was forced to learn before I moved in. For a strung together community, this place has got some diligent people working for the Aquatic Homeowner's Association.'
"So it's a charity given by the government. How shockingly kind of them. There must be some deeper reason behind it. People are seldom so needlessly generous."
I appreciated Cacophony's skepticism, but I had no opinion on the matter. I'd never thought deeply about it before, and in my mind, it mattered little one way or the other. As long as I was able to have running water in my home, I didn't care what the reason behind it was.
"Well, that's about it. That's all my humble abode has to offer."