CW: Explicit language, mentions of drugs/forced drug use.
This chapter's a short one, so it's an extra post today! Next chapter will be posted on schedule tomorrow ^3^
It takes a long while for Bellow to recognise him.
The raven sits to the Guildmaster’s left with his trademark grimace pulled tight across his face. Deep ebony locks frame his delicately sculpted features and pool over his taut shoulders. His hellebore eye is depthless and hooded as it often is, whether he’s in contemplation, angered, or lascivious.
But almost everything else about him is different.
A black eyepatch covers what the Bull assumes is an empty socket. Puckered burn scars cover the right side of Rin’s face, travelling down his slender neck and disappearing into his dirt-beaten shirt. He’s also gained in muscle, albeit not by much - but enough to be noticeable. His figure is lithe and athletic, a far cry from his previous skeletal state.
The most notable change in the Rat, however, is his demeanour. There’s a restraint that Bell has never seen before in the otherwise unruly youth. His gaze exudes a cold detachment that's equally frightful and penetrating.
The last time he saw Rin had been during their tryst in the Rose Palace. His friend had been wild and heated then, and there was that giddy brashness that Bellow always finds enduring. He remembers the deep uncertainty in Rin and the tenderness of fresh hurt. Now, all he sees is a steely resolution. The hurt has scabbed over.
“Does everyone else need to be here?” the Rat drones, casting a narrow glance around the long table.
He’s seated in the meeting hall of the Guildmaster’s estate, along with Bucky, Bellow, Small, Sparrow, and a few high-ranking Hunters that Rin hasn’t the name for. Iris herself sits at the head of this ebony wood table. To her right is her wife, Daisy, a very plump and doe-eyed Northerner, who is happily pouring tea for her darling.
This place is a rather small and humble affair compared to the grandiose scale of the lyceum in the imperial palace. And with the numerous bodies crammed around the table, Rin feels distinctly crowded.
“I mean, why the fuck is he here?” Rin jerks his chin at Bellow and the latter blows air through pursed lips.
“B-Bell has been spending a lot of time with us recently,” Small chirps, giving the bullish man a wide smile. “It’s been so wonderful, Rin. And he’s thinking of joining mother’s guild!”
“I ain’t joining shit,” Bellow grunts, squinting asymmetrically at the excited boy. “I’m just here for the food. Speaking of, Daisy - got anymore cream buns?”
“Banana cake today, Bellbell,” Daisy sings, passing her wife a hot cup of tea. Her amber doe-like eyes shimmer as she fawns over Iris, both hands absently tugging at her black bob. “Drink the tea while it’s hot, my love.”
Iris’ cheeks darken as she sips her tea, demure and graceful as ever. “Thank you, Daisy.” she says, tenderly. When she addresses Rin, her tone takes on a harder edge. “Turan, Cyril, and Moss have been tracking Blossom’s movements. They can be trusted. As for Small and Sparrow, they have expressed their wishes to assist in this situation.”
“Sure,” Rin sneers, “until they get tired of your bullshit and decide to recount everything said here to the Silverswords for some coin.”
“You will not question the loyalty of my family.” Her severe tone speaks finality.
The raven clicks his teeth together. “Whatever,” he snaps, impatiently slapping the table with his palm. “Just -- tell me what the Roses have been saying. Is there anything we can use?”
Bucky cradles her tea, exuding an air not dissimilar to Iris. “They are having issues recalling what happened, but they do remember Blossom forcing them to take ‘medication’.”
“Medication? Do you mean Gold Blossom?”
“They described it as having a bitter taste.”
Rin raps his fingers against the table. “Gold Blossom is sweet.”
“They also reported waking up in different worlds or realities.”
The raven’s reminded of the Rose Palace, standing in the middle of Kahin’s office and being forced to take the drug. He had travelled to a different world then, the Last Cycle to be precise, and seen a landscape wholly unfamiliar.
“This medication is the focus of Blossom’s experimentation .” One of the Hunters, an Eastern woman with sharp features and deep frown lines. “If we can get our hands on it, then we may be able to understand the Mother’s intentions.”
“It’s confirmed, then? The Mother is behind Blossom?” Rin grimaces, bumps rising over his arms.
The Hunter nods, appearing just as uneasy as he. “Blossom has started up a new Church in Taecho, but he is being protected by someone powerful. Very powerful. He is basically untouchable. Who else could it be but for the Mother?”
“Kahin is also being protected,” Iris states, sipping calmly on her tea. “One of our surveillance teams for the Rose Palace had been attacked just last week. Only one, Frederik, was left alive, presumably to act the messenger. She recognised the martial arts they used as one taught in the Immaculate. This is clearly a direct warning from the Mother.”
“How does Fred know the fighting style of the Immaculate?” Sparrow muses, round spectacles flashing in the white lumine of sunlit hanji doors.
“If you spend a long enough time in this war, you will come across a Nix sooner or later. The question is whether you would survive the encounter.”
“The Immaculate?” Rin glances between mother and daughter, brow raised.
“It is what the Dragon Army calls their umbrage,” Sparrow says, smiling kindly at the youth. “Officially, it does not exist, but there have been defectors from the unit who have shared their knowledge with us. I would not speak about it outside of these walls, however.”
“So the Mother is behind both Kahin and Blossom,” Rin mutters, scrubbing the left side of his face. Frustration mounts. “Which means that they are both untouchable.”
“The path we had chosen is no longer viable,” Iris confirms, glancing down at her white knuckled fist as Daisy grasps it reassuringly. She gives her wife a fleeting smile, brimming with warmth, before schooling he features back into her default austerity.
“Then we'll just have to figure out another way to bring them down,” Rin growls, dropping his elbow down on the table. He stares at the black band upon his thumb and his eye becomes hooded. “Doing things the Mother’s way isn’t going to work. The system’s already rigged against us. So we have to strike from behind, using whatever means necessary.”
There’s a moment of restless silence. Knowing looks are exchanged around the table. Bellow however seems too busy shoving snacks into his mouth to notice.
Keen-eyed Bucky drinks in the strange atmos and glances at Rin. “I think that’s the general consensus here. Whatever path you decide upon, Rin, I will be at your side. Together, we will ensure that they can no longer harm anyone else.”
“As long as you do not act alone and without forethought. We will continue to track their movements,” Iris says, seemingly pleased by the youths’ words. “There may be something more we can offer - however, this depends on a few outstanding factors.”
“Like what?” Rin asks, wrinkling his nose.
“You will come to know them,” is the Guildmaster’s vague response.
“Why can’t I know them now?”
“You are not yet ready.”
“You’re just deciding that for me, are you?” The youth rolls his eye and snatches up his cup, downing his cold tea in one gulp. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back.”
“Oh, Rin, can’t you stay a bit longer?” Small says, straightening in his seat. “At least stay for dinner?”
Rin hauls himself to his feet, entirely unmoved by the boy’s plea. “I’m busy.”
“Busy with your little lord?” Bucky says, raising a brow.
“Something like that.” Rin gives Iris the stink eye, making his impatience known. “When you’re done being vague and cryptic, you can find me at the Hwan estate.”
Arms stuffed full of baked goods from a very doting and affectionate Daisy, Rin hurries back to the High District. Before he leaves the guild however, he exchanges some words with Small and Bellow as they walk him to the front gate.
“How are things in the Slums?” Rin asks the Bull, adjusting his grasp on his sweet burden. “Bad, I’m guessing, if you’re spending most of your time here.”
The coarse man snorts and snatches an iced scroll from one of the bags. “You don’t know the half of it, Rat. The Slums ain’t even ours anymore.”
“The Marquis?”
Bell grunts through a mouthful. “That loverboy of yours stole my men and made them his Hounds. Now I don’t have a gang. I don’t have anything. And I got no excuse when my old man nags me to work the fields with him. I don’t wanna pick corn all day, Rat. I fuckin’ hate corn!”
“He’s not my lover-anything,” Rin says, sharply. “Korain’s just a moron leading a pack of morons. It won’t last.”
“It’s lasted for months, hasn’t it?” Bellow snorts, leaning against the gate frame. “People are scared of him. He’s different somehow. Stronger. His Hounds are meaner too. They killed a kid not too long ago 'cus he complained. Strung him up to make an example outta him. Shit’s outta control, Rat.”
“Yeah, sounds just like Korain.”
Small shuffles nervously between the Slummers, his feet scuffing the paved road. “I’ve asked mother if she could do something about it, but she says it doesn’t have anything to do with the Hunters.”
“She’s the Guildmaster,” Rin scoffs, glancing down the road. In the distance, he can see the tor of Aran Mountain. Thunderous nimbostratus clouds cluster there, coruscating pink and blue with every internal spark of lightning. “Her priority is her people. Who really gives a shit about Slummers?”
“I do!” Small exclaims, lips pursed in upset.
Rin huffs amusedly through his nose. He glances at those soft browns, shining indignantly. “I know you do. You’re just another moron we have to deal with.”
“What can a tiny thing like you do, anyway?” Bell chuckles, ringing his arm around the smaller boy’s neck. “Are you gonna squeak at the Marquis until he runs away?”
“I can do many things, Bell,” Small squints and yelps, struggling in the sudden headlock. “Mother says that size doesn’t matter. That it’s the heart therein lies the true power. And anyway, I just haven’t gone through my growth spurt yet! Sparrow thinks I’m bound to be taller than average. Taller than you even!”
“Size doesn’t matter, huh? Only runts say things like that!”
Rin sighs and saunters down the road, leaving his two friends to wrestle and argue at the gate. Something gives him pause however, and he turns to glance at Small again.
Soft brown eyes flash in his vision.
That strange, creeping uneasiness suddenly drops away as realisation hits. Ice floods his veins, seizes every organ in its twisting tundric grip.
Rin recalls the vision he had in the Blue Plains. He, the emperor, walking down three thousands steps, feet bare and bloodied. An inferno raging uncontrollably behind.
And he remembers the soldier who greets him, with a form as strong and soaring as a tree. His red armour drenched in the blood of his enemies and iron resolution in his handsome, rugged face.
Above all, he remembers the soldier’s eyes. Fawn brown that holds a perpetual softness, no matter the hardness of his expression.
