CW: Violence, blood & gore, graphic descriptions of wounds/burns, mentions of hanging.
There are twenty-odd guards encircling the intruder with their swords drawn, gold lions embossed upon their chest plates flaring with every minute shift of their poised forms.
The intruder at their centre is more ghoul than man with tattered clothes and ghastly wounds that blister across his exposed flesh. He effuses the stench of inferno and death. Izayoma’s hand tightly winds around his form, stifling the very life from his phosphorous red eye.
Smoke soaked hair, matted and curled, falls over his impassive face. It does little to obscure the power of his glare. His figure is hunched and shivering, every muscle taut and flexed. When he slowly draws an arc with his head, the guards flinch and waver at what they see.
A glimpse of the grotesque wounds marring the youth’s visage. A melted eye socket holding nothing more than a mangled hollow. The gory sight continues on, a chasm of charred flesh, cracked and seared, sprawled over his neck and chest. His brand is treacherous, nauseating, pulling the blood from more than a few faces.
Rasping breaths respond to the guards’ urgent questions, their blades hovering from uncertainty. This intruder seems to be on his last legs, yet the savagery of his glare sends their instincts shrieking. All of them feel as though they are on the precipice of death itself and to engage would mean taking a step off that sheer cliff.
The circle immediately opens to allow Lee to step through. He casts his furrowed gaze at the grievously wounded figure, clammy hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “You are trespassing on the Governor’s property,” he says loudly, slowing down his speech in case the madman might not understand. “Do you know where you are? Are you aware?”
When that single crimson eye latches onto his, the guard’s insides are doused in ice water.
“...Rin?”
“You know this intruder?” a burly man to Lee’s left growls. His eyes narrow as he adjusts the grip on his sword.
“I do,” Lee says, faintly.
An inhuman grin splits Rin’s face like an ugly gash, exposing bloodied teeth. “Lee,” he rasps gratingly, head tilting to the side. That hollow pit where his right eye should be stares blindly at the guard. “It has been many years.”
The guard frowns, loosening his grip on his weapon. “We saw each other just this morning,” he says, warily. “Rin. What happened to you?” He steps forwards -- only to falter and reel back, hand clapping over his nose. The fetor is so pungent that his eyes sting, as if hit by a cloud of smoke. “There’s a fire?”
“Dasom is dead,” the youth says, impassively. “I tried to save her, but it was far too late.”
The guard freezes. “Dasom is…?” Pale lips push tightly together, hiding the sudden trembling. “Where is she now?”
“She is dead, Lee. Where do you think she is?”
“What happened? How could she just die--”
“It was Kahin,” Rin says, crimson eye slicing in half. He sways slightly as if on the verge of collapse.
Lee instinctively moves closer, hands hovering in the air. But he daren’t touch him. He doesn’t know why.
“She took her from me,” Rin continues, staring blankly into the ether. It’s clear here. Peaceful. Like the past few hours hadn’t even occurred. “She always said she would. And she did.”
“But why did you come here? You should have gone to Iris.” Lee swallows the hard lump in his throat. He struggles to keep his emotions in check, though his breath and pulse are unsteady. “This is not a good place for you to be. Not right now.”
Rin lurches at the guard, snatching him by the collar with two raw hands. The circle at once seizes and the flash of blades are like small fireworks popping off around him.
“Think I want to be here?” Rin hisses, drilling his glare into the guard’s skull. The latter stares back, silent and sombre. “Think I enjoy crawling to that snake’s spawn? I loathe the fact that this beats for him, a Hwan.” He slaps his own chest, ignoring the blinding pain writhing through his wounded body. “What you have to do is make sure this stupid boy does not die. Do you understand?” His curt words crack the air like a lashing whip, causing the guard to flinch.
How strange. This voice...it's so unlike the boy. And yet incredibly familiar. “Not here, Rin. The Lord may hang you for what you stole--”
“LISTEN TO ME!” Rin bellows into the man’s face, rattling him with an immense strength. His grisly features are white and contorted, his psyche on the very threshold of obliteration. “If he dies, all of you are lost! If he dies…” Ragged breaths heave his shaking form. That one eye bulges, sclera peeking with a maddened glint. “I will kill you myself.”
Movement in his periphery. The Rat shoves Lee and skirts back himself, a rogue blade whistling through the air between them.
“No! Do not attack!” Lee shouts, drawing his own blade to counter another slashing towards the Rat. “He’s wounded, you fools!”
“We all heard him, Lee,” Burly grunts, lunging towards his target.
A delirious giggle bursts from Rin’s lips as he avoids multiple incoming attacks, his movements lithe and fluid. Every slash, hack, and thrust is met with a flowing arc of the body, limbs moving like drifting water.
Lee’s hold on his weapon goes slack. The tip digs into the soil. He watches this man dodge and weave through the steel forest, eyes widening with every move he recognises.
Rin snatches a blade by the hand, near severing his fingers, and dispatches its owner with a snap of the pommel.
His defense slips seamlessly into an attack.
The sword spins like a pinwheel, an alabaster blur as he sweeps the blade around his body. He churns the darkness, bloody froth clinging to the steel.
Bright blood sprays like geysers bursting from severed flesh. Several guards stagger back with pained grunts and cries, clutching at the myriad of gruesome wounds littering their flesh.
A red mist envelops the scene, drenching all within.
“Mizudori,” Lee mutters, sheer awe spread across his face. “But how…?”
In the end, the body falters.
Rin’s fortification cracks and shatters. Low swells of pain grow with increasing fervour. Waves sharpen, gain edges and points. Lightning zaps through every frazzled nerve, branches welding and seizing until obliviation.
He staggers and drops to a knee, leaning heavily on his stolen sword. The blade digs deep into the soil as he sags, harsh pants pushed through his unlocked jaw.
The earth lurches at a sickening angle.
He feels cold steel dig into his throat from every direction - a deadly fanged collar.
“You’re not just an intruder, are you?” Burly growls, stepping into Rin’s vision. The barrel chested man flicks his hand and the collar disperses. A single tag remains, tapping under his chin to raise his head. Burly’s eyes shrink upon sighting the younger man’s visage, upper lip curling in disdain. “Disgusting.”
Rin smiles coolly, sanguine glare like the core of Solaris in the gloam. “Silversword. How does it feel to turn your blade on your own people?”
Burly huffs through his nose. “You’re not my people.”
“You are wrong.” Mirth bubbles on his blood-stained lips. “I can see the Slums in your eyes. When you sold your blade to a Hwan, you also sold your soul.”
The steel point pierces his skin, freeing a thin red rivulet. “Stop talking nonsense,” the big man grunts, sinews in his neck popping as he tenses. “You’re nothing but a petty thief. At least I made something of myself.”
“Yes. You made yourself a traitor.”
That meaty hand turns white on the hilt. He rears back his blade to plunge into flesh -- when the raven drops bonelessly onto his back, hooks his ankles around the man’s, and yanks himself through Burly’s legs. A sea of grimy locks trails after like ink from a fude brush.
There’s no time to register.
The raven follows through like the sweeping current, form rippling as he pushes himself upwards with just his shanks. He reaches behind, grabs Burly’s collar, and gives a savage yank, choking off his windpipe. The man’s weight is crushing against his back, but he simply leans his own weight forward, encouraged by the panicked gurgles and contracting muscles.
By the way Rin’s gasping for air, it’s like he’s taking the breaths his victim cannot. His legs tremble but remain firmly planted on the ground. Crimson glows with fractal light. Teeth bare in exertion.
Restless bodies converge and scatter before converging again, unable to find an opening without endangering their comrade.
Burly begins to flail. His limbs beating the air and soil as his cheeks turn an ugly shade of purple.
Rin tightens his grip and leans. He’s without expression.
Lee snaps out of his stupor and draws his sword, heart vaulting madly in his chest. “Rin!” he shouts, tone turning urgent when he sees Burly’s movements turn sluggish. “Let him go! You’re killing him!”
That sanguine glare glances off the encroaching guard. “That I am, Lee,” he snarls. “All traitors must die.”
“Rin, I don’t want to hurt you.” A wretched expression descends upon the man’s face. He’s but a foot away, sword raised but hovering. “Let him go. Please.”
“Ah. So all those years serving Hwan Sun has corrupted you also. No matter,” Rin barks a laugh, jerking his hands lower over his shoulder. The flailing limbs go limp. “I knew you would turn traitor anyway. Just not this soon.”
Lee furrows his brows. “What are you--”
“RINNIE!”
The raven jolts and raises his head.
From over the verdant ridge appears a regal man, tall and strong, with shock wide eyes that are lumine in Luna’s light.
Little lord.
As if struck through with a sword, Rin releases the unconscious Burly, letting him crumple to the ground. Sanguine fades to a listless pitch, dulling his gaze. He staggers forth.
Jun’s sharp voice lashes the air, freezing the oncoming rush from behind.
Every step increasingly drags, movements turn sluggish. Cold sweat drips from every pore as the last of Luna’s defense falters and crumbles. He’s left to the barrage of agonies, too excruciating to comprehend.
Someone moves from his path. It’s now clear. And insurmountable.
But the little lord hastily strides towards him, long legs carrying him down the slope and onto the blossoming grounds.
They meet at the pagoda tree, white blooms swaying like clusters of soft stars in the gloom.
Jun holds out his arms. To the exhausted, pain-addled Rat, it’s a relief that almost washes away his suffering. With a fragile smile upon his lips, he collapses into the lord’s embrace, senses failing as the world swings into oblivion.
