CW: Explicit language, physical violence, blood.
As Spring blooms into full maturity, the Hwan Estate enters a steady lull. Though the Rat is regarded with distrust by the servants and guards alike, he has firm allies to buffer the scorn. He generally stays by Jun’s side, acting as his companion through all his lessons and duties. Even the Governor has become accustomed to the small raven haired youth ambling along at his son’s side like a faithful puppy.
White Lotus Lake seemed to have done wonders for Rin’s wounds. They are still tender and rankled but are generally healed. Healer Wu advised him on care for his scars and gifted him a glazed ebony wood eye to fill his empty socket. Though it could never substitute a real eye, it does sit comfortably behind the silken patch. It makes him feel a little more grounded. A little more whole.
Rin touches it now, feeling the hard orb though his eyepatch. One thing he would never become accustomed to is how different everything feels. It took him weeks to learn how to reach for things on the first try. And though he’s well balanced on his feet, he still has trouble with his aim. He definitely wouldn’t be attempting to fight anyone in his current condition.
Sighing through his nose, he gathers up his long, unruly locks and pulls them into a ponytail. The burning rays of Solaris beats upon his exposed nape, drawing sweat to the surface. Stray curls frame his flushed face as he squints against the blazing firmament, trying to keep his focus on the little lord and his Swordsmaster sparring outside the guard’s barracks.
The fifth lord stands poised and strong, the lines of his form near parallel. Mira stands opposite, unrecognisable with her lazy posture. The usual stony-faced woman has a crooked grin plastered across her face as she swings her sword around haphazardly. She pushes back her cropped hair, revealing a pair of dazzling black eyes.
“Perfect stance as always, young master,” she says, pointing her sword at Jun. “The earth style suits you well. But you must learn to break the rules. Expand beyond the expected. Your opponents will know every move you make, so you must ensure that they are not predictable.”
Jun tosses his shoulders but otherwise maintains his graceful posture. He holds his sword at his waist, blade horizontal, still and readied. Knees are slightly bent to center his balance. Pure focus narrows his features. “You speak on predictability, Mira. But you have been unable to predict my moves for many months now.” Teeth flash in the sunlight, mirroring the woman’s grin.
“Careful, young master. What have I told you about arrogance?” Mira dawdles towards the lord and, with a snap of her wrist, slams the flat of her blade into her student’s side.
A blur of motion as Jun sweeps his blade to meet the other’s. A metallic ring echoes across the courtyard.
“Stating a fact is hardly arrogance,” Jun retaliates, shoving the woman back with his blade before thrusting at her unguarded belly.
She skips away, narrowly avoiding the point. “Your confidence is outstanding, yet your memory seems to fail you.” Mira chuckles, swaying and stumbling as if drunk. Every sloppy movement is in fact calculated to the nth degree and she easily avoids three consecutive attacks with languid motions.
Admiration lights up Rin’s face as he watches the two spar. His own feet tap against the dirt restlessly. Jun moves with strength and grace, every muscle pulsing and straining against his training wear. His boots kick up the dust, sending a titian haze into the air. Along with the flashing swords and perpetual flow of movement, it makes for a stunning display.
What draws Rin’s attention the most however, is how liberated Jun appears. Unfiltered enjoyment blazes upon the lord’s flushed face, sweat glistening and eyes burning with exhilaration. It’s clear even to an inexperienced eye that this man was born to be a swordsman. His talent and passion is salient. To be a Healer would be a waste, Rin thinks, digging his thumbnail into the soft wooden bench. If the Dragon General had a man like Jun by her side, she would win the war against the rebels in a single day.
As Mira returns with a flurry of attacks, Rin’s thoughts wander to his previous conversation with the little lord. Things had been noticeably awkward between them since the status of their relationship was brought up. Though they both act as naturally as they can, there are moments of uncertainty and hesitancy. Especially when they hanker for each other.
No, neither of them have touched the other since the White Lotus Lake. Jun may be able to endure being the virgin he is, but Rin is going stir crazy. He’s not used to going without any fun for more than a week. And yet here he is. Two weeks without touching or being touched. And more than a month since he last fucked anyone.
His hand has definitely been seeing more action these days. And the libidinous youth finds himself nearing the very end of his tether.
What does it matter if we’re just friends, anyway? Rin frowns, kicking up a fat dust cloud of his own. How could he just expect us to be anything else? Does he expect me to marry him? He pauses, cheeks filling with blood.
“Can’t be…” he mutters, squinting at the lord as the latter parries Mira’s attack. Defined muscles bulge when Jun lands a hard blow, almost catching her off guard.
Rin swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. I’d rather die than marry a dipshit lord, anyway. Though he hardly seems at all convinced.
The spar ends with Mira pinning her student to the ground at swordpoint. She slaps the flat of her blade against his cheek, chuckling at his flinch. “What was that about predictability, young master?”
“Yes, yes, Mira. You have won this round. I concede.” He grabs her hand and hauls himself to his feet, chuckling along with her good naturedly. “Evidently, I need to work on my rule breaking.”
“Evidently,” the ex-soldier agrees, sheathing her sword in one sharp motion.
“Rinnie!” Jun waves his friend over with a heart-fluttering smile. “Come and join us!”
The raven stiffens, eye widening before he quickly shakes his head. Just one look at the stony faced woman beside Jun is enough of a deterrent. “I...I don’t know anything about swords,” he says, holding his palms out in protest. “And I wouldn’t be of much use anyway with just the one eye…”
Surprisingly, it’s the Swordsmaster who approaches him, her stern expression bearing down on him like a half-tonne boulder. “The best swordsman in Eastern history only had one eye. Not only that but she also had one leg. What excuse do you have?” She comes to stand before him, feet apart and arms folded assertively. “The young master wishes for you to join the lesson. In your current condition, you are a liability. If something should happen to the young master, do you expect him to protect you?”
Rin twists his lips in irritation. “I can fight just fine, pet,” he sneers, hopping off the bench to mirror her aggressive stance. “I don’t need anyone’s protection. Least of all Jun’s.”
Mira’s stern eyes, as hard as stone, glare at him with little give. “Prove it,” she barks, pulling the scabbard from her belt and setting it upon the bench. Without breaking motion, she kicks out her left leg and sweeps the raven off his feet. He slams into the bench and tumbles over the other side, landing in the dirt with a muffled curse.
“You asshole!” Rin growls, scrambling to his feet. The length of his cherry pink robes flutter as he leaps over the bench and launches himself at the woman.
She swings her leg forward and catches him mid-air, driving her foot into his stomach, and he’s brutally kicked into the dirt. Crippling pain seizes his insides as he gasps for air, vision briefly turned pitch.
“What was your plan there?” she chuckles, pushing rogue locks from her face. “Were you going to hug me to death?”
Jun sighs and squats down, leaning his weight against his sword. When Mira gets like this, it’s difficult to escape her grasp. It’s either win or lose, and it seems like Rin is already halfway lost. “Rinnie, are you alright?” he calls over, worriedly.
“You like it when the young master dotes on you.” Mira raises a brow, eyeing the raven as he slowly rolls onto his knees. “You should know that he’s like this with everyone. I wouldn’t get any ideas if I were you.”
Rin grits his teeth, clutching his throbbing stomach as he glares at the Swordsmaster. “Do you always talk out of your ass?” he wheezes, struggling to his feet. The sudden motion seems to bring a bout of dizziness and he staggers in Mira’s direction with a pathetic groan. His eye rolls up into the back of his skull and his knees buckle. Just before he collapses, the woman instinctively rushes forward, catching him under the arms.
Before she can truly feel a glimmer of alarm, the youth’s eye snaps open. A triumphant grin flashes and a fist follows, driving deep into her stomach.
“!!” She drops to her knees, hands sliding down to grasp fruitlessly at the front of his robes. Not a second goes by when he slams his knee into her jaw, snapping her head back. She drops onto her forearm, momentarily stunned.
“Hah! Is that all you got?” Rin gloats, skipping back a few steps in case of retaliation.
Mira pushes herself off the ground, jaw aching and copper filling her mouth. “Very good,” she mutters, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Now show me you can do it again or I’ll count that one as a fluke.”
She jumps to her feet in one fluid motion and disappears to the right, just past the limits of his vision. He scowls and chases her, but she is able to remain a step ahead. When she’s not playing with his lack of depth perception with neat footwork, she’s playing with his limited periphery, exploiting his weakness with expert ease.
Every attack he tries to land meets air or merely clips her agile form. Very quickly does he wear himself out. Due to the lack of exercise over the past month - in addition to the good food that’s helped him put on a good deal of weight - Rin finds himself with scarce stamina.
Frustration mounting, he pauses to catch his breath, crouching low. Sweat drips steadily from his jaw to the ground, evaporating upon contact. Furtively, he grabs a handful of dirt, teeth bared in a vicious grin.
“How could a young man like yourself be this tired already? Do you give up?” Mira taunts him, arms akimbo as he waits for him to recover. “So far, I’ve seen nothing that’s proven your--ackk!!” The woman stumbles back when Rin throws dirt in her face. She slaps her hands over her stinging eyes with a snarl.
The Rat laughs triumphantly as he cannons into her disoriented form, knocking her onto her back. Thick plumes of dirt erupt around their squirming and flailing bodies. He shoves his forearm into her throat and pins one of her hands beside her head.
“See? I can fight just fine!” He laughs loudly when he sees her bloodshot eyes water from irritants. “Go on. Tell me you concede. That’s what you have to say when you lose, right?”
Another taunt teems on the tip of his tongue when Mira punches the side of his head, her fist as devastating as a brick. His vision goes white for a split second before he’s slammed into the ground, a hard body keeping him pinned.
Within seconds, their positions are reversed, and Rin is still reeling from the blow. A ringing in his ear almost drowns out her voice, her hot breath huffing by his face as she hunches over him. “You should know, an animal will never win against a human. My advice to you is to discard the rat before it’s too late.”
She draws back to lock eyes with the dazed boy, a mirthless smile pulling at her lips. “Not bad. But you’re still a liability.” With a chuckle, she slides off the stunned lad and rises to her feet, wiping the dirt from her face.
Rin’s chest heaves with ragged pants. The sky is loud and blaring overhead, painful to his eye. He sits upright, wincing at the fresh bruises littering his recently healed wounds. That old Healer’s gonna kill me, he thinks glumly, picking himself up off the ground. Mira’s words ring in his head along with his bruised ear, causing a bout of dizziness. How could he discard the rat, when it’s all he’s ever been?
“Rinnie!” Jun jogs over to his friend’s side. “How are your wounds? Mira didn’t go too hard on you, did she?”
“What?” Rin growls, gingerly touching his swollen cheek. “No. I let her win. It’s too fucking hot to fight today.”
“Ah. Yes, it is quite warm.” The lord whips out his handkerchief and begins dabbing at Rin's clammy brow. “You did so very well. For my first time doing hand-to-hand combat with Mira, I only lasted a few seconds.”
The Rat perks up at that, irritation dissipating at Jun’s admittance. “Really? So I did pretty amazing, then. See? I’m a genius at fighting. Anything you wanna know, just come to me.” He grins up at the lord, sending the latter’s stomach aflutter.
Jun huffs a laugh and wipes a smudge of dirt from Rin’s cheek. “I shall keep that in mind, thank you. Perhaps you will let me win if we ever spar?”
“Of course. You’re gonna need the confidence boost after being beaten to a pulp.”
Laughter echoes across the courtyard, reaching the Governor and Mira as they silently watch the two boys chatter happily.
“How do you judge his abilities, Mira?” the first lord says, slowly fanning himself under the temperate spring sun.
He’s dressed Eastern style robes today that are cinched just under his chest, the sleeves a darker shade to the rich blue hues of the robe itself. His usually slicked back hair is let loose, locks falling gently around his temples. He appears far more relaxed than his usual self.
Needless to say, Zev had been rather distracted today, so Sun had ordered him away with an arbitrary task and come outside for a walk. What he had not expected to see however, was his Swordsmaster and the Rat rolling around in the dirt.
“Would he prove a useful soldier?” Sun continues, sweeping the fan across his face.
Mira pats the dirt from her pants and glances at the youths. Rin’s got Jun’s sword in his hands and the young master is showing him basic stances. She’s never seen Jun like this before, so relaxed and glowing with a profound happiness. “He does have potential,” she says, stiffly. All traces of the roguish woman have long disappeared. “With his injuries and ingrained habits, it would take longer than the usual soldier to train him to a satisfactory standard. However, considering the fact that he is injured, he has also displayed superior agility.”
“What are those habits you speak of?” Sun tilts his head when he sees Jun laughing. Rin turns bright red and yells something crass, which only makes the fifth lord laugh harder. When has Sun heard his son’s laughter? How many years has it been?
“He thinks nothing of defense,” Mira says, narrowing her red rimmed eyes. “A man only fixated on offence is useless as a soldier. He is careless and doesn’t think of his opponent at all, which may work in the short term, but will ultimately bring great loss to himself and his side. In other words, he is a very self-indulgent fighter.”
“He has no restraint.”
“If he has, I am yet to see it.”
“How long would it take to train someone like him?”
Mira glances at the lord, subtly arching a brow. “My lord?”
“I want you to train him, Mira,” Sun says, giving the Swordsmaster a thin smile. “I know that you had a brief stint serving in the Immaculate during your military days. Train him as you would one entering your division.”
Mira stares at the Governor for a long moment, frozen in shock. And then she remembers who she’s speaking with, and the shock sluices from her body like melting ice. There’s a steely look in her eyes, lethal and spiny like barbed wire. “The Mother shares much with you, my lord,” she says, impassively.
“Need I the Mother to know my own people?” Sun’s goldens shimmer with faux warmth, like cold metal catching the sunlight. “It was not difficult information to come by.”
“...and you wish for me to train the boy as if he were to join the Immaculate?” Doubt ladens her words.
“Please.”
“You plan to use him, my lord?”
“Would I ask this of you otherwise?”
“Pardon my question, my lord, but could you not use actual Nixes? Or even me, for that matter? Must you rely on a mere child? A rather impetuous and undisciplined one at that.”
“You were there that day, were you not? When he said a rat could get into places others could not. I believe this to be quite true, Mira. How could one such as you or I ever enter the rats’ nest without causing a stir? No, this boy is perfect. You will train him to a satisfactory standard over the next month. You may have even less time than this.” Sun’s tone hardens, as does his demeanor. Goldens turns penetrating, piercing her like twin blades. “Can you do this, Mira?”
The Swordsmaster grimaces. She doesn’t like this. Not only is the lord planning to use a child for whatever scheme he’s concocted, but he’s asking her to train him as if he were to be a Nix. What does this mean for Rin’s future? Will he be made to kill people? And if so, who exactly could the Governor want dead in the Slums?
Despite her apprehension, Mira knows that she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. This is an order, not a request.
She bows to the lord, chilled to the bones despite the heat. “Yes, my lord.”
***
A raven haired youth stands on the empty grounds. The night is oppressive with pregnant storm clouds hanging low in the sky. Darkness enshrouds with suffocating abandon, near tangible like inky sludge.
Above his head, the clouds churn and twist like water funneling down a whirlpool. Sleepy thunder rumbles, the sluggish prologue to what promises to be a powerful tempest.
The swirling clouds part, letting in a thin stream of moonlight that douses his form. A small circle of clear night can be seen, the spread of stars peering down at the one who calls upon them. Silvery light casts stark upon the lines of his body, lending him an eerie ethereality.
He’s drenched in sweat, white robes sheer and clinging to his shivering form. His eye is hooded and stares blindly up at the tiny glimpse of the heavens.
In the absence of his right eye, he sees.
An exceedingly handsome man whipped by unnatural gusts stands before him, facing unknown foes. His hands are outstretched to either side, eyes blazing red. Around him, tens of shadowed figures rise from the ground, blackness dripping from their forms like gluggy oil.
There are voices, distorted through the thick veil of time, as if the soundwaves were travelling underwater.
Stay down, Hwan Sun. Stay down and accept your death like a man.
The shadows surge forth, leaving trails of oil globs to hang in the air behind as they shed their spectral flesh. A woman’s voice bursts through the stifled veil, slamming into Rin with head reeling intensity.
He is my husband. The father of my children. How could you possibly compare? If you kill him, I will kill you myself!
Crimson glare pierces the gloom at figures unseen. The man, who stands as tall and sturdy as a mountain but has the bearings of a lord, sweeps his hand through the air, urging his spectral hounds on.
I know your true heart. You loathe this man. I have heard you scorn his name and wish for his death as keenly as I! Stand aside, Jina, and let me destroy this scourge of a man. Let me do this for us!
There’s an ear-splitting scream, joined by a thousand others drawn through boundless eternal, a thousand threads entwined into one. It blasts through the spectral army, dispersing them like rapids churning through black oil. The man too is washed away, the vestiges of his form embraced then swallowed by a hulking shade.
All else falls away until this entity remains. Though the youth cannot see her physical form, he knows at once what she was like in life.
She was a Western woman with a rich mahogany complexion, slight and slender. There was an enduring warmth to her person, drawing others near as if she were a homely fire. Her tender smile, those kind black eyes, they were painfully familiar to the youth. He had seen it many times prior and seared it into his soul.
And there it is, the same benevolent face, as the little lord silently walks towards the Rat. Arms outstretched, generous mouth curved in a simple smile. Goldens gleaming with rending affection.
Rinnie…
The youth reaches out to grasp the lord’s hands, yearning rising with a myriad of emotion. Their fingertips brush. Heat transfers. The youth calls out for him, urging him to come closer, but his voice is drowned out by a thousand screams, rising above in a discordant chorus.
The entity thrives. The screams amplify. She opens her shapeless maw and consumes the little lord until he too dissolves to the esoterica of time.
