CW: Explicit language, mentions of suicide, self-harm, explicit drug use, drug addiction, violence.
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He shoves Bucky onto the ground with a cruel hand, sending her sprawling at the Madame’s feet. “She’s betrayed you again, Lila."
The Rose trembles and drags herself up to her knees. She keeps her head bowed, the white blonde curtain of hair drifting over her face. Torn robes and a cracked mask tell of a violent scuffle at the raven’s hand.
A gust of wind slams into the windows and they rattle in their frames. There’s an unsteady judder in the air. The fire, long doused, glows hot embers. Bloody gloam soaks into the murk and stains flesh cerise. There’s a sticky fragrance, wood smoke and spice. It makes Rin’s mouth fill with saliva.
Kahin glares down her nose at the younger woman, eyes absent of light, hooded and penetrating. “How so?” Her soft voice is at odds with her impassivity.
Cold fingers run down the raven’s spine and he stifles a shiver. He’s seen the Madame mad before, but never to this extent. She looks as though she’s ready to snap Bucky’s neck. “The training didn’t take. I’d been suspecting this for a while now, but I wanted to be sure. So I searched her room this morning and I found this.”
He holds out a notebook, small enough to fit in his palm. Kahin takes it without looking, her eyes fixed upon the treacherous Rose.
“In that notebook, there are details of her investigations into you and Father Blossom. She’s been gathering evidence of apparent misdeeds and sabotaging your will at every chance she gets.” Rin places his foot on Bucky’s back and forces her down. Her head slams into the floor. She remains ever silent. “This traitor is a spy. A spy who’s trying to destroy everything that you’ve built here, Lila.”
The Madame hums, pacing slowly before Bucky like a restless predator. She tears her gaze from the traitor and looks instead to her Perfect Rose. There’s a crack in that beautiful mask. A wavering of her heart. Bitter fury gives her a caustic edge, but she’s too brittle to maintain her shape. “What do you recommend I do?” she says, softly.
Rin’s heart gives a sickening thud. He licks his dry lips. “I recommend you send her to Father Blossom. Clearly, training has no effect on her whatsoever. I’m uncertain as to why.” A wry smile tugs at his face. His eyes are as frosty as his demeanour. “Maybe she’s just defective. I also recommend that you release Poppy from the Training Room. She had been framed by Bucky for getting too close to the truth. I made the wrong judgement.”
There’s a small spark in those emeralds. Kahin pauses, mid-step. “Could your judgement be wrong about this too?”
“Why don’t you test her?” Rin saunters over to the Madame’s desk and snatches up the small malachite knife lying atop a pile of open missives. He holds it out to Kahin with an expectant look. “If her devotion is pure, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you. With a single word, you could have her destroy herself. That’s how it goes, doesn’t it?”
The Madame gives him a strange look, as if she were surprised by his callousness. She takes the knife from him and glances down at Bucky, lips pressed into a thin line. “Bucky.” Her tone is too weak for the ferocity of her glare. “You were once someone I considered my Perfect Rose. My most trusted and devout. Could I still consider you mine? Or will you disappoint me too?”
The Rat goes to stand near the hearth, leaning a hand upon the mantle. He stares into those pulsing embers, knuckling his brow. Gold glows in his depthless gaze.
The traitor raises her head. The broken mask slips off in two pieces, exposing her wretched visage. Her cheeks are damp and her eyes, swollen. Devastation paints the canvas of her face, stark and jagged. “Lila,” she croaks, stretching out shaking hand to touch her beloved’s robes. “I am devoted. I am the most devoted. Why do you think that the training doesn’t work on me?” She gives Kahin a watery smile, vision blurring with a fresh film of tears. “It’s because I’m already devoted to you. I always have been, from the moment I laid eyes on you. Lila, I love you.”
There’s a hard flinch with every broken utterance of her name. Kahin squeezes the hilt of the knife, cheeks blanch and wan. “Then why do you betray me? Why do you seek to destroy me and my palace?”
“Because this is wrong! You know this is wrong. I love you but I just can’t stand by and let you do this. I want you...I need you to be better than this. I…” Bucky shudders and wraps her arms around her beloved’s legs, pressing her face into the fabric of her robes. Spice fills her head. “I want to save you, Lila.”
Kahin stares down at Bucky with a taut expression. Her grimace tightens and her lashes shiver low on her waterlines. After a long, silent struggle, she flips the knife around in her hand to pinch it by the blade. She holds it out for the Rose to take. “Then prove it. Prove your devotion. If you do, I will close down the palace. I will return to the West and forget about this life. If you do...know that you will always be the Perfect Rose.”
It’s an impossible request. One that the Madame rarely makes. But she wants the satisfaction of seeing Buck’s devotion for herself. To see the flow of her life force, draining from her body. The purest display of love.
Bucky stares blankly at the proffered knife, eyes glazing over in shock. She takes the blade with a drunken motion, lips white and trembling. The steel glints red and reflects a dark figure, features carved in flames.
Greys widen twofold. She pulls in a shuddering breath. Sweat trickles down her temples. The point pricks her throat as she turns the knife on herself.
She gazes up at her beloved. Those dark, roiling emeralds, boring into her very being. That glaring lust for her death.
A bead of blood rolls down her throat.
This is who she loves. A monster who will never change.
“I’m sorry, Lila,” she whispers, setting down the knife. “I love you, but I won’t ever die for you. Not for the person you are now.”
It’s like watching the mercurial surface of a lake freezing over in the heart of winter. Kahin ceases to be human. There’s nothing behind her eyes. Nothing in her face. But there is a near imperceptible tremble in her shoulders. The dying throes of her humanity.
Rin pushes himself from the fireplace. “I’ll send for Father Blossom.”
***
Two figures in dark hooded cloaks sink into the tree line, letting the shadows envelope their forms. Their footsteps are light and hurried. Breaths kept quiet and sparse. Every now and then, they would pause to hide behind a tree, keeping out of sight.
Father Blossom swings his lamp around, peering into the gloom. He tilts his head, skin crawling as if he were being watched. Sniffing, he tightens his grip on the leash and continues on, this time at a faster pace. The drugged Rose stumbles after him, yanked along by the leash around her neck.
Blossom’s stalkers move as he does, silent and efficient. The smaller of the two is lighter on his feet and directs the bigger with nonverbal cues. The bigger, while disused to stalking prey, manages to hold his own. His feet agile and senses sharp from years of combat training.
By the time they reach the clearing, the waxing moon’s at apex, dousing the landscape with an ivory accent. There’s no wind tonight. An eerie stillness is sunk deep into the forest and it feels as though the entire world is cast in amber, frozen and eternal.
A sprawling structure stretches across the clearing. A crumbling sanctum built from the ruins of the Last Cycle, repurposed for Blossom’s beloved addicts. Windshorn stones wear parasitic vines that bloom toxic verdant leaves. Though derelict, one can still envision the Church in its prime - a soaring glory, imposing and austere in design and purpose. Since Father Blossom had taken residence in the Church, his ‘Children’ soon followed, and it has long become a place of empty indulgence and listless addiction. Only the lost go to Church, drawn by the Gold Blossom, their salvation.
A sickly sweet stench is carried on the breeze, making Jun flinch and cover his nose. “What is that?”
“Gold Blossom,” Rin murmurs, crouching down by the larch tree to rest on his haunches. He adjusts his hood and watches Blossom and Bucky disappear into the belly of the Church. “Father Blossom’s most popular drug. It's called 'Gold Blossom'. Which is why he has such a stupid name.”
Jun frowns, joining Rin in a squat. He presses his hand upon the scratchy larch trunk, idly picking at the bark. “What does it do exactly?”
“Hm. I’ve never tried it myself. But apparently it’s just...pure ecstasy. People get addicted from the first try and not many break out of it. Over time, it eats away at their mind and they end up going mad. Sometimes, they take too much and die.”
The raven wipes his clammy hands on his pants, hellebores flitting around the perimeter of the Church. At the moment, there are several figures shambling around the grounds. None of them seem to be much of a threat, but he’s also heard of the savagery that comes with using the drug. It’s not uncommon to see one of Blossom’s Children snap and tear a person to shreds. There doesn’t need to be a reason.
“I’ve never known such a place existed in Hanjuyang,” Jun murmurs, forehead furrowed in thought. “I wonder if my father is aware of it.”
“He is,” Rin snorts, glancing over at the little lord. “Where there are drugs, there are shithead nobles cashing in. Trust me.”
Jun’s frown tightens. He doesn’t say a word. What does he know about his father? Nothing more than the man crouched beside him, that’s for certain. “So what do we do, Rinnie? We should move quickly, in case he does something to Bucky.”
“I’m thinking we try blend in. There’s no way anyone in the Church is awake enough to notice. And if Blossom has any guards, they probably wouldn’t be able to tell us apart from the rest. We just...have to act like Blossom's pets.” He sweeps over the lord, lips twisting to the side. “You’re the biggest problem here. Even under that ratty cloak, you look like a little lord.”
“Is that so?” Jun blinks and glances down at himself, tugging at his plain cotton shirt. “But this is the most basic accou--the most basic wear you have given me. Surely I look like any other Slummer.”
Rin huffs amusedly and pinches the man’s cheek, drawing blood to the surface. Startled goldens meet his gaze. “The clothes aren’t the issue. It’s you. You’re too pretty to be a dirty Slummer.”
A gentle flush kisses those tan cheeks. Jun clears his throat and rubs his nape, the movement nudging the hood from his head. “I think I understand your meaning. My bearing is one of noble birth, thus my speech and behaviour is unlike a Slummer’s.”
“Right. So, you gotta shamble and grunt. Best if you don’t speak at all and keep your head down. And follow my lead, got it?”
“Shamble and grunt. Understood.”
“Once we’re in, we can snoop around. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out where Bucky is. And once we get her and the other Roses out, we’ll fire off the flare.” The Rat grabs two handfuls of dirt and smears it upon his face and clothes. He does the same for Jun, but with the soil clinging onto his cheeks, the lord just looks...more rugged.
Rin stifles a laugh and rises to his feet, stretching out his sore muscles. “Fucking hopeless,” he mutters, punching a fist into his prickling thigh. “Are Lee and the others ready?”
“Yes. They are waiting on the edge of the forest by the cemetery. As soon as they see the flare, they will come to our aid.” The lord stands and brushes down his pants automatically. He pauses when he remembers that he needs to be dirty.
“How’d you convince them?”
“...I bribed them with my bottle of Sage Nectar.”
“Sage Nectar?” Rin almost yelps, but he manages to lower his voice in time. “How the hell did you get your hands on that? I thought only the blue eyes drank Sage.”
“Ah...I was gifted a bottle by the Crown Prince.”
The raven raises a brow, suddenly uneasy. “You know the Crown Prince?”
“Yes. I have been the Prince’s royal companion since childhood.” Jun pulls his hood on and gazes at the Church, jaw set determinedly.
“Huh. I didn’t realise you were so close to royalty.”
Jun flinches a little at that. “Only to the Crown Prince. My father is the one who meets with the Mother often. He is the Governor of the Imperial capital city, after all.”
Rin notes the lord’s pallid complexion with interest. He grabs the poor man’s hand and gives it a squeeze.
Goldens gleam from the shade of his hood.
Rin steps out from the dark canopy of the forest, hunching his shoulders and stumbling over his feet. Jun falls into step beside him, shambling and grunting as promised. He’s not too bad, the little lord.
And though the Rat tries to keep his focus, the blue eyed prince follows him like a foul odour, giving birth to questions that have no answers. And emotions that had long escaped him, until now.
“Rinnie.” The lord’s low grunt draws his attention. Golden flick over to one of Blossom’s Children, swaying and staggering in their direction.
The raven captures Jun’s hand, tugging him close. “Keep your head down,” he mutters, eyeing the Child through the thick tresses of his hair. “We can deal with him if he attacks. There’s two of us and one of him. So don’t worry.”
Rough fingers intertwine with soft, slender digits. They squeeze in response, a grateful smile dancing on the corners of Jun’s mouth. “With you? I don’t.”
“Dumbass.” But the Rat’s cheeks burn as he tugs the little lord along.
The gilded royal doors are rusted and worn, and they stand wide open, inviting the two intruders into the derelict narthex. But a sentry shambles between them and the maw of the Church, their first obstacle of the night.
The Child is a middle-aged man with a patchy, scraggly beard and greasy hair. He’s marked with the strange golden skin of the Blossom addict, glistening metallic sheen under the weak moonbeams, with only the tattered skirt of a once resplendent robe hanging from his body waist down. His withering body is thin and concave. Sinews bulge like tree roots twisting under his skin.
He comes to a standstill a mere foot away, biting into a rice ball tastelessly. Bloodshot eyes squint at the approaching pair, though he’s largely apathetic, deep in the throes of his high.
“Newcomers?” he raises through a muffled mouth of rice. His voice has a pitched twang, jarring to the ear. “Have you come to be saved?”
Rin shuffles back a step when a fetid wave of rot and concentrate sugar is huffed into his face. He wrinkles his nose and gives a rocking nod. “That we have. Will you help us?”
“Hm. Depends if you’re worth savin’,” the Child tugs on his beard as he chews, bits of rice stuck to the rough hairs. “Not everyone can join the congregation. You must be a true believer. Do you believe?”
“We do believe! Without a doubt. There’s nowhere else we’d rather be.”
The Child squints at the silent lord, the latter who shifts uneasily and tugs his hood further over his face. “Why doesn’t he speak? Does he not believe?”
“Ah. He does!” Rin nudges Jun behind himself, shielding the little lord from view. “But he has been mute from birth. So I do the talking for him.” He glances back at Jun and hums and nods, as if they were silently communicating. “Yes, you see? My good friend here is as much of a believer as I am.”
It does little to ease the Child’s suspicion, but he seems to find no reason to reject the two. He grumbles and shoves the rest of his meal into his mouth, before gesturing for them to follow. “Father Blossom is busy with his work right now, so you’re gonna have to wait to see him. Only when he judges your suitability do you join the congregation. Until then, you’ll just have to be patient and make do.” The man’s voice echoes when he steps into the narthex, his glistening golden body sinking into the turbid shade.
“What the fuck is a congregation?” Rin breathes, pulling a face at the Child’s back as they follow.
“It is a gathering of worshippers,” the lord responds lowly. “A term from the Last Cycle.” He casts his gaze around the narthex with pure fascination, goldens wide and round like shimmering coins. “I recognise the symbols on these walls. It is from one of the largest religious cults from that period. If I can recall correctly, it was a monotheistic cult, although some argue that it was polytheist, with three gods mentioned in salvaged literature...Oh, Rinnie! Look! That must be a statue of one of their gods. Isn’t he beautiful?”
Rin tugs on the excitable lord’s hand and shushes him, though he can’t help but smile at the endearing display. “That’s all really interesting, little lord. But you don’t really sound like a ‘believer’ right now.”
“Ah!” Jun stiffens and drops his hand to this side, a sheepish smile curling on his flushed face. “My apologies, Rinnie. I seemed to have forgotten our main objective in my excitement. Forgive me.”
“Forgiven. Now keep your voice down and try to look a little more lost, won’t you?”
The Child leads them deeper into the Church. When they reach the nave, the space suddenly opens up. The vaulted ceiling soaring high above their heads appears much like the ribs of the nulua whale, stitched into an elegant pattern. Intricate designs are carved into the marble clerestory that sweeps around the boundless structure. Crumbling statues are interspersed between unglazed windows, figures of forgotten prophets and disciples. Centuries have abused their marble forms. Rin prefers them like this, with their perfect visage ruined in decay. It makes them look more human this way.
Within the belly of the Church, dyed oil lamps litter the nave, painting all with a heady, sticky red that clings onto the skin. Row after row of wooden platforms have been set up as temporary beds or couches, cushioned and decorated in cheap silk. Countless figures sprawl across these platforms, all smoking pipes and cigars as they chase their high. Every now and then, a Child would stagger off towards the bema and disappear through doors unseen.
The air is pure saccharine, sucking the fresh air from their lungs. Rin pauses, overwhelmed by the sight and smell. He grips his head as it spins. When he glances at Jun, the lord is subtly covering his face with the collar of his cloak.
“You don’t have any guards?” Rin moves closer to their guide when he’s more steady on his feet. “Isn’t it dangerous out here without any protection?”
The Child snorts and waves the boy’s question away as if it were ridiculous. “We have Father Blossom’s eternal protection. Any Child of the Blossom will be safe from all dangers. And,” he turns his bloodshot eyes to Rin, waterlines raised, “the Blossom blesses us with the strength of the gods. If we were to be attacked, which we won’t, then the unfaithful would have no chance of ever defeating us.”
“Strength of the gods,” Rin hums with faux admiration. “That sounds pretty good to me.”
“Once you have been accepted into the congregation, then you will attain this blessing. For now, however, you must wait.” Their surly guide leads them to a couple of free beds close to the bema. From here, they can see two weathered yet hefty doors leading out to the east and the west. “You can relax and enjoy a pipe with me in the meantime.”
The man shambles off to collect his Blossom paraphernalia, and the boys sit awkwardly on one of the beds, their hands still tightly clasped together. As the Children around them raise their heads to stare at the newcomers, they slowly unwind their fingers and withdraw their touch.
“Rinnie, what do we do now?” Jun whispers, bringing his mouth close to the raven’s ear.
Rin suppresses a shiver and rubs a burning cheek. “We’ll wait until our new friend's deep in his high. We can slip away then and try to find Bucky.” Hellebores are blood drenched in the lamplight. “I don’t think she’d be in this building. It looks like those doors are our best options.” He nods his chin at the eastern door and Jun’s eyes follow.
“They are more coherent than I’d initially expected. And there are so many of them too.”
“Don’t worry. Addicts are good at hiding their high. Same goes for drunks. Doesn’t make them any less high or drunk.”
“But what about that gods-like strength he was talking about?”
“Explains how they can tear a person apart so easily.”
"Rinnie.”
The Rat smirks and pats Jun’s knee, trying to soothe the worried lord. “Calm down, little lord. All you gotta do is follow my lead. Just trust me, okay?”
“...Very well.” Though by Jun’s wary tone, he doesn’t seem at all convinced.
Their guide returns with a gold inlaid pipe, a box of matches, and a small battered tin. He eagerly reclines on the second bed and begins preparing the pipe, packing the bowl with amber tobacco. It has the appearance of saffron, tiny delicate threads almost disintegrate as they are pushed down.
“Is this your first time?” The Child asks, lighting up the pipe. He puffs a few times to encourage the flames, and soon it’s merrily smoking.
Jun glances down at the raven, worried lines etched deep into his brow.
Smiling hesitantly, Rin twists the hem of his cloak as if he were anxious yet eager for a taste. “Y-yes. I have only ever heard of the wonders of the Gold Blossom. How long have you been smoking it?”
“It’s an experience,” the Child corrects him through a syrupy cloud. “I have experienced Blossom for two years now. In fact, most of us have only been here for a year.”
“Oh?” Rin flits his gaze to Jun, the latter who seems all the more perplexed. “Why’s that?”
“It doesn’t take long for salvation to find you. At most, you’ll be here for three years before you’re saved.”
“And remind me - what exactly do you mean by salvation?”
The man frowns at Rin and smoke billows from his nostrils. “The Blossom will guide you to the gods and then you will find the peace you crave.”
“Peace? Like death?” Rin scrunches up his face, unable to hide his incredulity. Are these people really this stupid?
“Of course not,” the Child gruffs, shaking his head. “But only those who have experienced salvation will know what it is. Otherwise, there’s not much point in coming here, is there?”
It sounds like a load of bullshit to me, Rin thinks with a sour twist of his mouth. “Of course. How silly of me. I hope you'll forgive my ignorance.”
“Eh. You will learn over time.” The Child waves at Rin and offers him the pipe. “Go on. I’ll share my pipe with you in welcome. It is good to see young men like yourselves take interest in Blossom.”
“Ah. I think we will wait until we see Father Blossom. But you’re very generous--”
“Don’t be shy. You must experience the Blossom, whether or not you join the congregation.”
Rin raises his hands and chuckles, sweat beading his temples. “But I couldn’t possibly take your Blossom. It’s far too precious.”
The Child’s suspicion sharpens. He sits upright, swaying under the thick blanket of intoxication. “If you don’t smoke the pipe, then I will know that you aren’t true believers.” Despite his slurred words, there’s a steely edge. To refuse would be to expose their true intent. “And the unfaithful will be destroyed.”
Rin feels the lord freeze beside him and calloused fingers grip his own. A silent warning.
The raven pats Jun’s hand and smiles, giving him a pointed look. Trust me.
“Many thanks, friend,” Rin hums eagerly and takes the pipe from the Child. Before Jun can do or say anything, he brings it to his lips and takes an enthusiastic toke.
“Rinnie, no!” Jun blurts out as he bats the pipe from the raven’s hands. The latter jolts in surprise and collapses into a coughing fit, heavy plumes of smoke bubbling from his lips.
“Jun, what the fuck? I told you to trust me, didn’t I?” Rin wheezes, glaring at the panicked lord.
“You said you can become addicted from the first try--”
“I was faking it, you idiot! Holding the smoke in my mouth! I almost inhaled because of you--”
“UNFAITHFUL!”
The Child swells to his feet, jabbing an accusatory finger at the two intruders. “You are unfaithful! Heathens! You dare corrupt this hallowed place with your blasphemy?” He swoops upon Jun and grabs his upper arm, bony fingers digging deep like needles. “Do you seek to destroy my salvation?”
“Ah, shit.” When Rin swings his gaze around, he sees a horde of seething Children surrounding their beds, blocking all points of exit. Their swallowed features are contorted in intoxicated fury, golden bodies cast viscous crimson as if they’d been bathing in blood.
“Rinnie?” Jun winces as those bony fingers tighten, his cheeks blanched and glistening with cold sweat. “What do we do?”
A small body slams into the Child like a cannonball. The latter crashes to the ground with a shriek, sending a ripple of shock through the horde.
Rin snatches Jun’s hand and yanks him to his feet. Hellebores flash. Teeth bare in a grin. “Run!”
There's only a few more chapters left of this arc~ σ(≧ε≦ｏ)
I'm so excited to start on the next one soon. It's going to include a lot more shenanigans with Jun!
