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FOTD #083 : viscid black earth tongue! (glutinoglossum glutinosum)
the viscid black earth tongue (or glutinous earthtongue) is a saprophytic fungus in the family geoglossaceae. it often grows among moss or in grassy areas :-) it is quite common in the northern hemisphere !!
the big question : can i bite it?? sure - it's edible, but considered "not worth eating". it has been said to be delicious when stewed<3
g. glutinosum description :
"the smooth, nearly black, club-shaped fruitbodies grow to heights ranging from 1.5 to 5 cm (0.6 to 2.0 in). the head is up to 0.7 cm (0.3 in) long, & the stipes are sticky."
[images : source & source] [fungus description : source]
#• fungus of the day !! •#[glutinoglossum glutinosum]#: viscid black earth tongue :#: glutinous earthtongue :#083#||#mushrooms#mycology#mushroom#fungus#earth#nature#fungi#cottagecore#forestcore#foraging#fotd#fungus of the day#glutinoglossum glutinosum#viscid black earth tongue#glutinous earthtongue
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⚬ pairing: demon!minghao x reader ⚬ word count: 3478 ⚬ warnings: blood, bodily injuries, death ⚬ genres: god i don’t even know... angst, unrealized pining and romance, weird tension, reader is just as evil as minghao?
✧✎ synopsis: three-hundred years have passed, and the second son has awoken from his slumber, waiting for a new soul to devour.
✧✎ a/n: this au was many things, and in finality, it morphed into this. usually i have a lot to say in my author’s note but today i bring you nothing! enjoy!
Three-hundred years had passed, and you knew due to the bell tower.
Its reverberations shuddered throughout the town, permeated the density of the smoke curtain which had swallowed the sky for centuries, and vibrated the very oxygen that fluttered in your lungs. It was a calling to check your mailbox, for reaching inside unveiled a folded note. At first, you glanced to your neighbour across the street, to the elderly man who lived on your right, and finally to the pig-tailed girl who’d just celebrated her fifteenth birthday on your left.
Yet they had retrieved nothing from their mailboxes exempt from a soft-spoken prayer, a testament to their gratitude that their lives had been spared. But you—you were the unholy meal.
With a sharp arrowhead of stone pressed to the skin between your shoulder blades, you were forced into the cavernous opening based midway along the mountain. It fed deep into the earth’s heart, and as a watchman pierced the spear’s tip further into your flesh, you began the cold, damp descent that would lead you to a deserved death, a death that could no longer be prevaricated.
After a painful stumbling over jagged flints and pieces of crystal, you emerged into the Blood Room, where three other contenders from the town were already aligned. There was not one look exchanged between either meal; however, you did recognize a specific helix piercing and the russet locks of Joshua, who you recently spotted dragging a body down to the ravine where the forest waterfall bubbled. Still, despite Joshua’s inept piousness, you knew he was not a meal worth being served.
A watchman approached you with a pocketknife. Splaying out your fingers, you observed calmly as he created a small incision against a distinct line travelling the length of your palm. As the dark, crimson fluid leaked from the wound, it was then collected in a glass dropper. Each watchman approached a scroll which hung from the stone. A drop of Joshua’s blood was tested first. It rolled about halfway down the sallow paper, which was impressive to say the least, indicative of even the boy’s worst transgressions.
The next possible meal had their sample beaded onto the scroll, though it had soaked up rather quickly, even before Joshua’s, and you knew their sins were pitiful and their soul was much too pentant. Similarly, the blood of the other meal drew short. You couldn’t help but think the contenders were quite pathetic.
At last the glass dropper containing your blood was being set against the paper. A slight squeeze, and the liquid bulb started its trickling. It streamed down boldly, leaving in its wake a luminous red tint that outshined even Joshua’s viscid plasma. You watched the bulb surpass one meal, then glide past the second meal, and just as you anticipated, the droplet rolled to the very end of the scroll. In fact, it began dripping onto the dust of the icy floor.
“The test concludes.” A watchman rumbled, his voice bouncing against the rock. His spear pointed toward you criminally. “Your blood runs the thickest and your heart beats the slowest. You are the unholy meal. The second son has awoken from this three-hundred-year slumber, and it is your soul he will devour so that he may be appeased and tire.”
You fought to keep an emotionless, flat face.
“Feed him well, for the weight of your blood carries more sin than purity.”
Briskly, the latter three contenders were swept away.
Joshua may have thrown his first corpse into the waterfall and watched it gush like a leaf down the black ravine, but his single body could not compare to the hundred that you’d left to float for years.
The bare bottoms of your feet were engrained with shallow cuts and stained by the powder to the numbing stone. You had not eaten or drank for over forty-eight hours, and your strength, which could often be as robust as great titanium, had seemingly dwindled to an emaciated, dried flower.
From the tales your mother relayed amongst your youth, you knew it was important to not make a face in the presence of the second son. Unlike his older brother, Jun, who would only be appeased by a meal who smiled and flaunted their guilt, Minghao chiefly adored a meal who showed no more emotion than the limestone tumbled along the mountainside. It was best to please the Demon Sons before they untied your soul from its fleshy bindings and swallowed it whole.
Or else in their next awakening, they might demand a meal of the entire village.
Minghao gestured to the garnet-coloured mat which had been lain across his bedroom floor. There were bowls of flavourful rice, steaming, clay pots filled with different soups, plates warmed by sliced bread and tin cups almost overflowing due to the plentiful wine inside.
“Hungry?” He asked, to which his soft, wispy voice was rather surprising.
Your countenance remained blank, unmoving, apart from your mouth. “Yes, I am starved.”
“Sit,” the second son invited, “I want you to be satiated and full, until you feel sleepy.”
Heeding his order, you sat cross-legged on the side of the mat opposite to the demon. His robe, embroidered with ruby lace, rippled behind his feet when he walked, and the collar’s diamond shape revealed underworldly markings which drew attention to the pale expanse of his chest. Even through the material cloaking his arms, you could faintly decipher the kohled tattoos. You had even recognized the familiar symbols chiselled into the walls during your trek to the demon’s chamber. When Minghao took his seat, he grabbed one of the black horns curling from his hair and dug his thumb into the pointed end.
“They are becoming weak,” he admitted, “I’m sure my brother’s wings are close to shattering from his broad shoulders. I’m sure the nerves are peeling and laughably brittle.” Minghao reached for a bowl, using wood chopsticks to fish the orange, tangy rice into his mouth. “You know, as first born, he is granted those wings. It’s his rite.” He lowered the bowl, a faded grin crossing his lips. “I remember, he used to embellish them with the bones of his meals, hanging their cervicals and metacarpals and pieces of their skull across each wing like a charm bracelet. But myself? It is not my meals’ bones that I save.” He shook his head, picking up another sticky rice ball.
Suddenly, the demon paused. “Are you not going to eat?”
It was difficult to speak when the interior of your mouth felt coated with chalk. Inclined by fear rather than your hunger, you reached for a bread loaf, then broke its golden crust in half, listening to the satisfactory crackle.
“I was absorbed by your pretty voice,” you spoke with not a single intonation, “forgive me.”
As you tore a piece from the warm inside and poked it into your cheek, the pottery bowl which he held broke into pieces due to the crushing grip of his hand, orange rice and clay shards spilling onto the mat. You had visibly flinched. The demon’s body trembled as he inhaled a slow, subdue breath.
“Dearest, if you ask me to lend my forgiveness, I will pierce a stake through your beating heart and pull it out onto my plate.” His teeth were claws in his mouth as he growled. “Do you understand?”
You hid your quivering, bottom lip by bringing a tin cup to your face, the slick formula of the wine flowing down your throat. It was thicker than the wine you drank at home, and there was a copper-like aftertaste that almost rendered your expression to pucker, but you remembered to keep staid.
“I understand.”
The void, starless nature to his gaze disappeared. Instead, his eyes returned to their settled oak. Allowing more wine to soak against your tongue, there was a distant familiarity to its unique flavour.
“Are there things you regret?” Minghao retrieved you from musing, and spooned some rosemary soup into his mouth.
Once more, you took another sip, swished the alcohol between your cheeks, and swallowed. The demon observed you with an intent eye. Something flashed against your memory. It was a pale face drained of its pink and lively colour. In fact, it was your husband’s face, Soonyoung’s face, right before you tipped his body over the ravine’s misty edge and into the gurgling chasm below.
He had been your last murder.
“I regret…” You began, lowering the wine, “I-I regret…”
A stutter. An emotion. An inkling of your distress.
Minghao’s grasp around the soup pot tightened and the tattoos needled into his flesh seemed to slither as though they’d been disturbed. Your mind grew stifled with obnoxious imagery. It was too much, all at once, and this dizziness spun at the centre of your cranium like a comet in orbit.
You leaned further over the wine, staring blurry at the liquid.
“I regret… I r-regret…”
Then it came to you, the underlying taste of the wine. So familiar because you should have known it better than anyone, especially considering your habitual dirty work, how often that fluid caked under your fingernails and spattered your clothing. No, it was definitely not the bones Minghao kept.
A moment later and you fainted onto the mat.
You awoke to a damp coolness folded against your forehead, and to Minghao who sat at the edge of his bed, where he had rested for three-hundred years. He removed the cloth and began dabbing it along each arch of your cheek, cleaned your jaw’s long edge, and at last wet your lips until they gleamed. Expelling a subtle breath, you kept your face as blank as possible.
“How do you feel?” He set away the cloth in order to sweep his sleight fingers down your temple.
“I’m well,” sounded your meek voice, “you have taken care of me.”
In between the black fringe that feathered the demon’s lashes, you met his eyes. Minghao’s hand slid to your throat, where his palm pressed flat against its column and his fingers curled taut with the sensation of hot steel.
He felt you gulp.
“I implore that you bathe. Rid yourself of this fabric which has been stained by wine and broth. I will leave you undergarments and a robe.” He leaned in closer to your face, and you couldn’t help but glance at his jagged teeth when he said so adoringly, “my wish is to paint you. I would like clean flesh.”
Clad in nothing but the undergarments, Minghao stood before your body, holding a wooden bowl. The inside was smeared with a rustic-coloured substance that almost bore the same consistency as honey. His chosen brush had fanned bristles, and when he stroked their wetness along your skin, it was a smooth, somewhat ticklish feeling. You found yourself enjoying it. Specifically the longer strokes, ones that began at the top of your shoulder and licked across the soft underbelly of your arm, only to gently flit away at the brittle bones in your wrist.
He decorated you in content.
As the boy lowered to his knees and illustrated unintelligible runes against your inner thigh, he was focused, sharp. Another dip into the wooden bowl, and Minghao moved to paint your other thigh. You examined the horns pushing between his hair. Without thought, you stroked your hand against one, feeling the small grooves that created every divot. The demon never stirred, but continued to paint down your leg, and you wondered if he truly hadn’t noticed your touch or perhaps quite liked the way you caressed him.
Despite the fact you were merely prey being toyed with until dinner time, when you looked at the demon who touched your skin and treated you with such reverence, you felt this unbeknownst tenderness in your heart.
As Minghao instructed you to raise a foot, he immediately stiffened.
“What is it?” You questioned flatly.
He set the bowl and brush down.
“Dearest, the soles of your feet are cut and raw. It appears worse than usual.”
You wobbled slightly, almost losing your balance. “I was shown no kindness on my journey to meet with you. Because I am your meal, I can ignore the stinging.”
“No,” Minghao shook his head and rose up, “I will wrap your feet in precious calendula leaves. The paint will dry quickly, then you can sit.”
“If I may ask one thing,” you remarked, fiddling with the sleeves of your robe, “how painful is it to have your soul devoured?”
Minghao plucked the last few calendula leaves from their flowers. The petals were rather striking, the aurora of a setting sun as you mother always described. It had been a longtime wish to see the sun one day, though considering your fate, such a dream must remain only that. The leaves swathed each foot with the help of a clear, sticky gel.
“Very painful.” The demon responded. He shifted next to you on the bed, then grabbed one of the orange flowers. “This is why we sleep so far beneath the crust, so the people do not hear the meal’s delicious screams.” He grasped your hand which had suffered a slit from the watchman’s pocketknife, and he began to rub a flower bud across the wound.
“Do you remember your last meal?” You asked, staring at Minghao rather than the skin’s miraculous healing.
The demon looked straight into your eyes as he grinned. “I do remember,” he sounded wistful, “it had been three meals, since the man I consumed in an even further past had greatly upset me.” Minghao dropped the flower, slowly interlaced his fingers with yours, squeezing.
“I had treated him well. I cleaned his cuts, I allowed him to bathe, I offered him my finest silk, and then, when we ate, I asked him what he regretted.” His hand became colder than ice. Minghao’s eyes started to widen, illuminate with a shiny madness, and when he leaned in closer your every facial muscle was begging to twitch. “He cried to me. Can you believe it? I had never been so upset. It caused me to fill with rage. He wept for forgiveness, absolution, a relief from his pain. Who am I, but a being who takes pain like a supplement? In that moment, I leapt across the dinner table and devoured him. His soul tasted like salt and alloy. I could not eat his heart, which was given to my brother. He will always eat the heart, because it so plumped full of your terrible emotion.”
The demon’s hand fit to the side of your neck, his thumb stroking along a particular vein where your pulse was thundering. “Well,” he sighed, “not your terrible emotion, but most peoples.”
In that moment, you took your deepest breath, and did not respond until you were certain that not one note of your voice would tremble. “I understand.” You placed your hand overtop the demon’s as it continued to cradle your neck, “did you paint this man too?”
“No,” Minghao shook his head, “I use my paints sparingly.”
With a soft fingertip, he began to trace a thin line he had brushed. It started at your jaw, then fell down the length of your warm neck. It dragged across your collarbone and in between your chest. Over the ribs, to your stern hip. The fingertip circled sweetly against your inner thigh a few times, and at last glided to your knee where the demon’s touch drifted away like a summer breeze.
“You are the most beautiful meal I have ever seen,” Minghao murmured, holding your gaze which threatened to water, “I was delighted to accent a body like yours, so gorgeous and strengthened by sin.”
Since your arrival at the demon’s bedroom, you knew it was vital to preserve a blank face, and yet, it came to a point where you could not restrict the whims of your emotion. A tear bled from your eye, your bottom lip started to quiver, and your brow pinched together in a wrinkle. There was fear to your gradual outbreak, but it was an infinitesimal fraction compared to your gratitude, that the second son could somehow honour you more than your own unfaithful husband, who’d been your last body discarded into the ravine.
In reality, how different were you to this demon? Year after year, the suppleness of your heart became hardened with immorality, pummelled of its empathy and completely wrung from compassion like a soaked, heavy towel. A common routine: dragging a corpse through the wildlife, your lips pursed and whistling the tune you’d overhear the pig-tailed girl humming on her front lawn. Dump the body. Return home. Peel an apple, bake a pie, and feed a slice to your next victim, watching the froth dribble from their lips as you sipped your drink and folded a leg over your thigh. But that was life under the cinder sky. It’s what kept people mad, what kept the demons fed. Either flee or have the light of your being rubbed into another dark ash.
The demon immediately turned rigid.
His spine bristled straight and the tattoos started to crawl beneath his robe, rustling like serpents who navigated the tall grass. You figured your death would be the most painful, since you had not only broken at the last minute, but soiled the significance to Minghao’s paints, casted the illusion that you were not appreciative of his gestures. In a snapping wrench, he practically tore you from the velvet blanket, dragging you to a door in his bedroom.
When it was opened, a frigid wind dusted at your face, and a slender corridor was revealed, stretching so far that it led into complete blackness. With a hand against your lower back, Minghao shoved you into the tunnel.
“Go,” he demanded, his words echoing off the stone, “go and do not turn back.”
Your voice was breathy, confused, “I don’t understand. I-I—”
“It leads to an opening at the opposite side of the mountain. You will leave, and you will never-” he gripped your chin, and his gaze intruded even the most clandestine pockets to your soul, “ever return to this town. Escape these cinder skies. I will not repeat myself.”
Before you could make sense of anything, before the door could be slammed in your face, your solace left to the rock and damp air, you slipped a hand around the demon’s neck and kissed him. His mouth was just as soft as his voice, and when he angled his head to better taste the tears that stained your lips, you felt it would be impossible to make this journey alone. The silk of his tongue brushed inside your mouth, causing your knees to tremble, therefore you gripped weakly at the demon’s hair. His sharp teeth pricked your bottom lip and it welted ever so slightly with blood.
“Come with me,” you begged, pressing your forehead to his, “please, do not go back to sleep.”
But Minghao merely giggled, and the fact that such an innocent sound could leave the chest of a demonic entity had disoriented you.
“What creature are you?” Minghao hummed, “that I can see your emotion and only want to hold you closer? Maybe it is because you are the first meal to bare no regret. You know your flesh is stitched by the sin of your own hand. Even your sweet tears. Oh! My brother would adore you! Though he would’ve devoured you by now no doubt.” He gave a gentle shove, removing you from his body.
“Will you please come find me?” You entreated.
Time was of the essence. The tenebrosity seemed to have a curl on your ligaments, tugging you backward into the tunnel.
Minghao smiled, his hand reaching out to wipe the blood from your sore lip.
“Dearest, I will come find your dark soul anywhere,” sounded his honest purr, “but I suggest you travel hastily. If I leave, I must first wake my brother, and the rage of a demon whose slumber has been interrupted... It cannot be compared to anything. I’m afraid you’ll faint again.”
Trusting that Minghao would seek you out, you began the journey down the tunnel, your hand swiping against the stone and your feet taking calculated steps. Amongst the black air, there was no concept of time. Seconds, minutes, hours, they felt ineffectual in a place where not even your own fingers or toes could be seen. Eventually, you came to a light that burned against your eyes, and emerged at the opposite side of the mountain, like Minghao promised. And as you padded into the jade forest, you felt one final vibration shake the pine needles scattered across the earth, heard some boulders from the mountainside crumble down in swirling, dry dust clouds.
Shuddering, you knew it had been the abhorrent cry of the first born son. And for once your compulsion to escape the grey skies was a real desire.
✧✎ a/n: yes.................... :) thinking that i could also make an au for jun in this universe? i will have to do some Major Thinking. i still have nothing to say! like i don’t know where this au crawled out of, but it’s Here now. it’s pretty morbid n freaky sfeheff but nonetheless i hope you liked it and as always i luv hearing ur guys TH0TS.
#seventeen scenarios#svt fanfic#seventeen minghao#minghao scenarios#xu minghao#minghao angst#minghao fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#minghao fanfic
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Glutinoglossum glutinosum - Viscid black earth tongues- for Mayshroom!
#black earth tongue#glutinous earthtongue#mushrooms fungus#fungi#mayshroom#mycota#snake#oc#sprite#wisp#fae#glutinoglossum glutinosum
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”Black Star” SayaJuri OS (Rated M)
Main Pairing: Yamamoto Sayaka x Matsui Jurina
Characters: Yamamoto Sayaka, Matsui Jurina, Watanabe Miyuki, Matsui Rena, Miyawaki Sakura
Summary: A hot blooded dhampir and a subservient knight–Sayaka and Jurina are students at North Star Military Academy, partners, and rivals. They are soldiers who swear by the oath to protect humans from any threat. From the moment they met, there was a clear distance; a rift. But in the wake of an oncoming threat, they grow closer, and new feelings emerge.
Warning: Violence, gore, sexual themes (SMUT ALERT!!!)
Authors’ Notes: So this is me and @rukakikuchi wishing you guys a happy new year! This fic is quite spontaneous, after finding a post on tumblr about anime titles based on names we decided to make a SayaJuri OS. Personally, Sayaka x Jurina is a crack ship i’ve been meaning to try and i’m super starved of content.
P.S. It is a REALLLY long one shot. It includes slight hints of Wmatsui, SayaMilky and Jurisaku. We hope you enjoy!
++++
2XXX, August XX Known in infamy as the day the sky fell… Meteors rained down mercilessly from above, as if punishing humanity for some crime. That day, the world we had always known…
Was decimated.
New Star Calendar 00-34, Spring
The Council of Vampires formed an alliance with the humans. We vampires swore fealty;
We vow to protect humanity from the shadows of the Night.
We coexist, we thrive, for without them we would lose ourselves;
And neither specie would survive. Our oath. One that we forged with blood.
And now, I…
New Star Calendar 15-351, Winter
Present Time:
Snow covered the large tract of land like a white ocean, it was captivating—a flawless winter dream. Where was the end of this white horizon? It was almost as if the earth and the heavens were in congress, bound to each without end or beginning.
The pool of red against the pristine ground was shocking to the senses. Blood seeped into the layers of snow. Two figures decked in military uniforms reminiscent of the French revolution, were at the center of the scenery. A woman with chin-length hair, black as the wings of a raven, was crouched down, cradling a fragile body of another female sprawled on the ground, the latter’s long chocolate-brown tresses already viscid with blood.
A few feet away from them was a large corpse of a serpentine creature whose features were more like a dragon. Two swords impaled the cadaver’s head as black liquid oozed out from different parts of its wounded body. Slowly, it began to disintegrate into ebony dust and ash.
The brown-haired woman coughed out blood, staining her lips. Her skin was a deathly pale color.
“Hold on. Help is coming.”
“It’s o-okay…I’m j-just glad…you’re safe, Jurina.”
Yamamoto Sayaka was dying.
“Please,” Jurina’s voice shook as she fought the mixture of despair and anger consuming her. She was resolved to track down and kill The Necromancer, their sworn enemy, even if it takes her a lifetime, even if she must search every corner of this decaying earth. The Necromancer will pay for this, blood for blood.
In Sayaka’s consciousness, there was nothing else but a song, a silent tune that drifted to the very core of her being. Beyond her, no words were spoken, no meaning or reason. And yet every letter seemed to float, forming sentences that slowly burned the edge of her consciousness. Like dying embers floating with the wind, scattering about towards anywhere and nowhere, musical fragments whirled around the oblivion that was her thoughts. She recognized each beat, the broken refrain and the unfinished coda. Each breath drawn was a memory of things that were, that are and that would never be.
Her eyes were open, but only dancing shadows greeted her vision. The firm hold of interwoven fingers, the cold tears staining her cheeks, the pleading whispers—everything else was a dull sensation. Disconnected. Abandoned.
The weight upon her chest suppressed her and it grew more painful to breathe.
Jurina’s warm hand traced the outline of her face, fingers weaving through the strands of her brown hair. The embrace tightened with desperation. But in her mind, there were only fractured images of people she once knew, fleeting recollections of the past and echoes of a song never sung.
“Stay with me, Sayaka.”
.
.
.
.
.
Everything is cold,
Empty.
So this is what death is like.
Are you crying, Jurina?
I don’t want to hurt you.
I…lo–
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 13-94, Summer
Memory I: Initial Contact
2 years ago…
“A dhampir arrived last night, they say she’s going to start attending classes here at the Academy.” A nameless student started to stir the threads of gossip. North Star Military Academy was a closed-up elite unit. As the best military training institution, its students were carefully handpicked and the community was tightly-knit. It was impossible not to get a wind of new developments.
“Half-bloods shouldn’t be trusted, they’re volatile and weak.” The other student replied, gaze not leaving the flurry of swords in the arena below them.
“You think so? This one was specifically sought after by the Commander. Rumor says her skills are top notch.”
“Whatever, she’ll never be on the same league as us.”
The clinking of metal against metal filled the atmosphere. Matsui Jurina was fencing in the training hall, gripping her rapier tight as she performed quick assaults against her opponent. Her slender figure, clad in her white military uniform, seemed to dance amid the battlefield. Swift, ethereal, deadly precise–she was all those as a fighter, earning her the moniker “The White Knight.” As she was delivering blow after blow, a familiar voice broke her concentration. “Jurina! Come here!” She looked up, seeing her human master, Rena, on the upper platform gazing down at her from the audience balcony. She bowed to her sparring partner before sliding her sword to her waist and walking up the stairs. All the eyes in the room followed Jurina, her every movement was fluid as a gallant soldier.
Upon arriving at the top, she saw another girl standing with Rena. This newcomer had short brown hair and an unpleasant scowl on her face. “Who is this, Rena-sama?” Jurina’s tone was reverent. She reached for her master’s hand to kiss the crystal ring that adorned Rena’s finger. The sight of the two of them was like a spectacle lifted from a victorian portrait. Rena’s features were regal and mysterious. Her long black hair and delicate smile made her look like a princess straight out of a fairytale. “Her name is Yamamoto Sayaka. She’s going to be your partner starting today.” “Is that so?” Jurina smiled, turning toward the girl, her short hair bouncing softly. She reached out for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Sayaka-san.” There was warmth in her words. Sayaka, however, just clicked her tongue and slapped the hand away. The hypocrisy of nobles irked her the most. In her mind, this girl before her was being nice for the sole reason that she was ordered to. “No offense, but do I really need a partner?” Sayaka asked Rena, rather brashly. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.” A lone wolf doesn’t need a pack, it would slow her down. “Sayaka-san, I know you are very skilled. But I think it would be beneficial if you work with Jurina. Use her experience and rigorous training to your advantage. After all, I’ve heard that you never had formal combat classes and she’s the perfect person to help you adjust here in the Academy.” Rena’s composure was infallible, as expected from the master of the famous White Knight. “I’m fully willing to be your partner,” Jurina’s smile did not falter. People would kill for Sayaka’s spot, but the dhampir just gave her an annoyed glare. “I’ll let you two be; I have some matters to settle.” Rena motioned to leave, then looked back and said, “Jurina, you start showing Sayaka the ropes!” She was definitely optimistic. “Of course, Rena-sama.” After Rena left, Jurina started walking down the stairs but noticed that Sayaka was still bent against the railing, disinterest plastered on her face like a huge ‘do not disturb’ sign. The honor student pouted as she dashed back to the top, leaning beside the other vampire. “Hey~ aren’t you going to train?” Sayaka’s face scrunched up at Jurina’s sing-song voice. “I’ll train when I want to… I don’t want to right now.” Who the hell decided she needed a partner anyway? These haughty purebloods were all the same and she wanted none of their false pretenses of camaraderie and kindness. “My, my, you’re a stubborn one…” Jurina sighed. “Oh well.” “Huh? What’s that supposed to–” Sayaka glanced over and saw Jurina hold a pendant in her hand. It was a cross that looked like a star; the Polar star, to be exact. She furrowed her brows, “What is that?” “My Polaris Cross. To pray to Astraea.” “Astria?” “Astraea!” Jurina firmly corrected her. “He’s the God who created the universe. He painted the void full of stars and galaxies. I pray to him every twilight when I wake and before dawn when I lay to sleep.” “Huh…” Sayaka was not getting any of this. “Don’t you know? The great star Polaris was created from the core of Astraea’s soul! It was his blessing to grant us magic, and–” “I don’t care about your make-believe God.” The newcomer said bluntly. “Eh?!” “That story of Asta-whatever creating the stars is just a fairytale that you’d tell a child. I would never believe something like that.” Jurina was appalled, gripping her cross. “How dare you! Talking about Astraea-sama like that!” Everything around them came to a halt as the tension spiked. The occupants of the training hall grew pensive. Matsui Jurina rarely lost her cool and this new student straight off pushed her buttons. “Ahh, Astraea, Astraea, he’s not real.” Sayaka retorted. “Listen, I never had faith in God, he was never there when I needed him. I won’t put my faith in him now.” “Such insolence–!” Jurina pulled out her sword, angrily aiming the blade at Sayaka’s neck. The dhampir just scoffed. “Please,” she taunted as she pulled out a gun, pointing it back at Jurina’s head. The suspense was too heavy for the occupants of the room to dare make the slightest movement. “Excuse me~!” A sweet voice interrupted their short dispute. They both looked confused at the young woman that came between them. She looked at Sayaka, grinning, “Yamamoto Sayaka-chan, right?” “Uh… yes? And you are?” “My name is Miyuki. I’m your master.” Sayaka raised a brow, drawing back from Jurina. “My what?” “Your master. Your ruler, your boss. The one you must swear to protect and obey with your life. Basically, you’re my knight, and I’m your queen~” “Huh? When did I agree to–” Sayaka ceased mid-sentence when Miyuki pulled her for a torrid kiss on the lips. “What is wrong with you?!” The dhampir pushed her away, a hand covered her mouth as she glared back defiantly. “You are bound to me Yamamoto Sayaka. Now lower the gun,” Miyuki then said, holding up a white crystal ring on her middle finger that was similar to the one Rena had. “We don’t need you killing your new partner.” Against her own will, Sayaka’s hand clutching the gun fell to her side. Her eyes widened seeing her sudden action. “What…?” There was confusion, panic and boiling irritation muddling Sayaka’s mind. She was being controlled. A rhythmic giggle, “You can’t disobey your master. Not while I have this Lacryma crystal~” Miyuki teased, sticking out her tongue playfully. Sayaka could only hiss. She knew she was powerless against the Lacryma. It was a relic from the shattered Polaris star and it held complete control over a vampire’s immortal soul. Humans possessed the Lacryma to ensure the loyalty of their vampire protectors. It could force even the strongest vampire into submission. “Now, I hope you two can get along! Rena-chan thinks so, too.” Jurina heaved a deep sigh, she lowered her sword. “As you wish.” “Whatever…”
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 13-201, Autumn
Memory II: Friction
“What the hell, Jurina?!” Sayaka’s angry voice roared as the doors to the Academy flew open from the brunt of the swing. Jurina walked ahead as the dhampir stormed toward her. “Hey, are you even listening?! What was that earlier?! I could’ve handled them by myself!”
“No. Because you were just being reckless,” Jurina retorted in a cold tone, sharp as an ice dagger and twice deadly.
“You were assigned as my ‘partner’, weren’t you? Wouldn’t you trust your own ‘partner’ to get the job done?!”
“You were acting out on your own; don’t think I’m the one at fault,” Jurina stopped walking and turned around. “Your course of action was highly risky and you could’ve gotten yourself killed and drag us with you. You’re in over your head. And more importantly–”
“Oh, great, what?! Tell me! I dare you!” Sayaka scowled.
Jurina took a deep breath, turning to stand right in front of her.
“You desperately need to control that temper of yours.”
“Okay, that’s it!” Sayaka took out her gun, aiming it at Jurina. “I’ve had enough of–”
“Stop.”
Sayaka felt her body freeze as Miyuki and Rena came up from behind her. Miyuki snatched away her gun while Sayaka stood, her muscles tense and her head pounding.
“Sayaka~ If you keep this up, I’ll have to confiscate your guns,” Miyuki pouted. “Rena-chan, I’ll get Sayaka something hot to drink and calm her down. You talk to Jurina.”
“Of course.”
Miyuki took hold of Sayaka’s shoulders, releasing the tension from her arms and making them drop to her sides. Sayaka still had an unpleasant look even as she was taken by her human master and ushered to the cafeteria.
Rena glanced over at Jurina as she rubbed her temple.
“What happened?”
Jurina frowned. “Can we have this debriefing later? I need a cold shower.” She was too drained to even recount the events of her first official mission with Sayaka. The girl was a handful.
“Very well. Take all the time you need to clear your head.”
….
The sound of water hitting the tiles finally stopped. A few more shuffling and the door swung open. Jurina emerged from the shower clad only in her white bathrobe, tendrils of black hair still dripping wet.
Her gaze fell on the girl in front of her, demurely sitting on the king sized bed as she waited for the vampire. “I’m sorry it took a while, Master.” Jurina muttered before motioning to the dresser. That shower definitely released some tension from her muscles.
“Now would you tell me what happened?” Rena rose to stand behind Jurina as she fumbled with the contents of her drawer, possibly looking for a dryer and a comb.
“If I must,” Jurina acquiesced as the whirling sound of the hair dryer filled the room. The vampire ran her fingers through her ebony tresses, her gaze fixed on their reflection in the mirror.
“Hey, it’s just that I’m concerned…For you to be riled up this much. I need to know how we can improve your team work with Sayaka-san as this will be beneficial for all of us in the long run.”
“But why must we insist our methods upon someone so resolute on doing things her own way? To tell you plainly, Rena-sama, that girl has negated all my commands as Squad Captain during the scramble earlier.” Jurina sighed, positively miffed. “She charged into a den of Shades sans notice and proceeded to engage combat without authorization.”
Shades were monsters deprived of reason, vampires that fell from grace. They terrorized humans and other vampires alike. Their proliferation is one of the reasons the vampire-human alliance came to be.
“A bit trigger happy, I presume.”
“My sniper and saboteur have both been decommissioned for a week’s length because of her obstinance.” It took every bit of the vampire’s patience to not lash out and make a scene the moment they arrived within academy grounds. “We were all almost buried in debris, Rena-sama.”
“There, there.” Rena tried to soothe her. She took the comb from Jurina’s grasp and began to brush the vampire’s hair with protracted, delicate strokes that massaged Jurina’s scalp. “I know I’m asking too much from you, but please do consider that Sayaka-san has been operating rogue for the past years. She’s not a team player, as expected, but it doesn’t mean she won’t grow to be one.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so invested in her affairs, Rena-sama. Miyuki-chan told me that you specifically asked the Council to make me her partner. Why is that?”
Rena placed the comb atop the dresser. She patted Jurina’s head. “A selfish wish maybe?” She smiled.
“Eh, should I be jealous?” Jurina pulled her master’s wrist, straining Rena to bend down and receive a chaste peck on the lips.
Rena cradled both sides of Jurina’s face, deepening the kiss. She only broke away when oxygen grew deficient.
“Don’t distract me from the question.” Jurina pouted.
“You started it first.”
“Are you fond of her, Rena-sama?” The vampire persisted, it would not quell her heart to be left guessing.
“She simply reminds me of myself.” The human spoke honestly, “Before I met you, that is.”
Now, Jurina was confused, “You are nothing like her, Rena-sama.”
“Well, not squarely of course. But loneliness, Jurina. I think both of us has seen it eye to eye.” For a moment, Rena’s eyes were glazed with nostalgia. There was fondness in her voice, a rhythmic cadence to her tone as she uttered the next words.
“And I want you to be her light, just as you are mine.”
Jurina intertwined their fingers together. “Hmmm….all but for a hefty price.” She teased while pulling Rena to bed. “But if that is what you wish, I’ll try.”
…
“Just to confirm, the Commander has issued orders directing my squad to investigate a high value target?” Jurina spoke to a member of their 2nd battalion, the unit specifically assigned to make profiles of their ‘marks’.
“Affirmative, Matsui-san. Our target is called The Necromancer, an extremist pureblood adept at using blood magic and curses. We believe he is behind the recent surge of Shade activity.” The human responded.
“Will permission to engage be granted?” Jurina wanted to make sure whether or not direct confrontation with the said entity was authorized.
“The Commander wishes to gather more information before we commence full execution. For now, avoid contact as much as possible.”
“Roger that, is there anything else on the target’s portfolio?”
“Well, this is yet to be confirmed, but our intelligence cells have reported that aside from controlling Shades, The Necromancer is also able to summon beasts corrupted by magic.”
“Familiars?” Jurina clarified.
“No, it seems he is capable of altering the life links of both flora and fauna. Please exercise extreme caution.” The member of the 2nd battalion retired for the night and Jurina was left standing alone at the balcony. She was thinking of killing time in the gardens when she chanced upon Sayaka in the corridor.
At first, Jurina considered avoiding any type of interaction with her for the time being but the vampire’s good nature got the best of her. “I hope you’ve been well rested, Sayaka-san.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry and all that,” Sayaka said. “Miyuki scolded me about what I did, and then she treated me to tea when I said I’d apologize.”
“I hope next time, you’ll be a bit more careful in a situation like that.”
Sayaka sighed. “Yes, ma’am, senpai.”
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 14-120, Summer
Memory III: Mutual Need
A bullet whizzed past Jurina’s face by a centimeter, hitting a Shade that was poised to attack her from the back. She was surrounded by the vile monstrosities and had been fending off hoards of them for hours while awaiting reinforcement.
“What would you do if you injured my beautiful face?” She blurted out, a playful smirk on her lips as she eyed the new comer who had just joined the fiasco.
The White Knight was deployed for a scouting mission to observe and gather information on the western side of the Weeping Woods. The forest had been unpassable for months due to a severe build up of Shades in the area.
At first, she effortlessly disposed off the Shades that attacked her but was caught off guard when she found a heart-like matter, beating while connected to a colossal tree. The cocoon-like objects dangling from its branches served as pods for ‘new born’ Shades. It was horrifying how the creatures came out of the mounds of flesh.
Everything about it was sacrilege. The Necromancer finally found a way to create Shades without turning vampires into mindless beasts. This black heart was directly spawning monsters and leaving it be would endanger the nearby villages.
“Oh shut up J, I could put a hole on your cheek right now and it would still heal up quite nicely.” Sayaka proceeded to shoot down the Shades within Jurina’s radius as the latter elegantly slashed her way through to reach the dhampir’s side.
Jurina rolled her eyes.
“What the hell is that hideous thing?!” Sayaka eyed the black heart mounted on the colossal tree.
“A power source? It’s creating all these Shades in a matter of minutes.” As if on cue, Shades began to emerge out of the pods, instantly multiplying their adversaries.
The two fighters stood back-to-back, entrusting their lives to each other. They began to wipe out their attackers in perfect synchronization, . Each movement was deadly precise it almost seemed like a divine waltz amid the carnage.
“By the way, you’re bloody late, Sayaka.” Jurina shot a menacing glare at the Shade that attempted to bite off the dhampir’s neck before slicing the creature in half. Her once pristine robes were now covered in grime and blood. Her hands holding her rapier was dripping with black liquid.
“Yeah. And you’re f*cking enjoying this!” Sayaka gripped the neck of the Shade that lunged at her and snapped it. She reached for the vial inside her coat pocket. It held crimson liquid–fresh blood to renew Jurina’s strength.
She was sure her partner was at her limit, it had been almost 8 hours since Jurina left the campus and judging by the looks of this onslaught of undead and Jurina’s own countenance, Sayaka could deduce that the pureblood had been fending off these things incessantly.
“Thanks.” Jurina muttered after drinking from the vial Sayaka gave. Her eyes glistened with a crimson hue as power surged within her.
“Is there any end to this?” The dhampir grumbled while smashing a Shade’s face with the grip of her gun.
Jurina laughed almost heartily. “I wouldn’t dawdle around if it was that easy.” She wouldn’t need to send a distress signal if this predicament was something simple.
“If this draws on, we’d be stuck here until the crack of dawn.”
“That’s not quite your problem.” A slash here;
“Of course it is! I can’t have you erupting to ashes in front of my face.” A bullet there;
Sayaka was a dhampir, and dhampirs, unlike purebloods, were immune to sunlight. They were also faster in regeneration, physically stronger and more durable. All these were things Sayaka took pride in and would certainly boast about in front of Jurina whenever she had the chance.
“And besides, the whole Academy would probably stake me to a pyre if I let anything happen to their favorite student.” Both of them seemed to revel in the heat of the battle. There was no experience of seamless harmony greater than this with any other ally. Matsui Jurina and Yamamoto Sayaka were equals.
Sayaka felt intoxicated–the slicing shriek of Jurina’s sword, the reverberating echo of each bullet fired from her gun, their panting breaths, the outcry of each fallen Shade as they bit the dust–the adrenaline rush was a sweet nectar.
“As much as I fancy fighting with you, we have to think of a way to destroy that heart and get out of here.” Jurina winced as a sharp claw struck the side of her abdomen.
“If I clear a path, could you cut it down?”
There was no other word spoken; Jurina changed her fighting stance, her sword in a perfect horizontal line as she brought her right foot forward in a full offensive posture. Her blade glistened just beside her cheek, light reflected from the steel as she twisted her hand guard.
Sayaka smirked while firing a barrage of bullets as bodies started to pile up, the Shades were dropping like flies. She kicked a few of them senseless as they tried to lap on her.
The White Knight weaved her way amongst the corpses, crushing their heads beneath her heels as she advanced. If she had Sayaka beside her earlier, this would have been over and done with in an instant, instead of wasting half a day battling an army of oddities.
Jurina abruptly broke her sprint and used the speeding Shade as a springboard to thrust the blade into the black heart beating at the core of the rotting tree. Her sword glowed an unearthly silver color as she managed a full on strike.
Two halves of flesh cleanly cut in the middle almost fell from their attachment on the trunk before the muscles mended themselves and reconnected.
Sayaka cursed out loud. “Damned thing,” She shot down the shade that pulled on Jurina’s ankle as the latter stood atop the pile of carcass, just in time before the vampire could lose her balance.
Jurina glanced back to her partner’s direction, “Physical attacks are in vain.” There was a dark edge in her tone as she hurried back to Sayaka’s side, plowing through the Shades that obstructed her path.
Sharp pain shot through Jurina’s senses as she clutched the wound on her abdomen. The sensation was too strong that she almost fell to her knees.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jurina whispered while trying to heal the laceration.
“Watch out!” Sayaka pulled Jurina’s hand to impale a Shade that attacked the pureblood in her moment of vulnerability. She almost cursed her own heritage for not being able to wield magic. It would have been damn easier if she was a pureblooded vampire.
The dhampir’s fingers lingered on Jurina’s hand which was starting to lose its grip on the rapier. “Concentrate on regeneration first, I’ll watch your back.”
Jurina shook her head. “At this rate, we’ll both die.” She barely suppressed a whimper as the gash burned with white-hot pain. She planted her sword on the ground so it was poised in a cross-like fashion.
“Shut up!! You’re not doing any self-sacrificing stunt again, you fool!!” Sayaka could almost see where this was heading, she had know her partner long enough to predict the girl’s line of thinking. The dhampir would admit the she fought recklessly more than often but Jurina, was someone who would take a bullet for someone else without batting an eyelash. She almost had no sense of self-preservation and it irked Sayaka to no end.
“Listen to me, Sayaka.” Jurina gripped the forehead of an attacking Shade and crushed it with her bare hands. Dawn was fast approaching, she could almost feel it on her skin.
“No! Enough of your grandstanding–” There was every bit of irritation in Sayaka’s response as she furiously took down the creatures swarming them.
“It seems The Necromancer has proven to be a dangerous opponent. Destroying that heart would be impossible with normal attacks and you know it. My magic is barely enough to heal my wounds.” As she spoke, Jurina’s eyes alternated between blood red and amber in split seconds, she was wavering and they were both certainly aware of it.
“Whatever you’re planning, it’s a no.”
Jurina raised her hand, casting a protective sphere around them that could only last a few seconds. The shades within 2 meter radius exploded as they touched the barrier.
“I need to drink your blood.”
Sayaka swore her heart skipped a beat at that proposition.
“What the hell! No! That’s the most important prohibition in the book!” She grabbed Jurina by the collar.
Vampires drinking from vampires was the greatest sin.
It drove them mad;
Made them forget who they were;
Made the thirst unquenchable–
Like mindless beasts.
Shades were vampires once.
But they…
Lost their souls.
“I only need enough to cast one more spell.” Jurina reasoned as she firmly held Sayaka’s hand on her uniform. Her wound was burning; time was of the essence and once the barrier breaks, she wasn’t sure if she could fight again.
She had full faith in Sayaka’s abilities but against a legion of Shades that multiplied to no end, it was a losing battle no matter how many they cut down.
“You’ll destroy yourself Jurina!”
It wasn’t entirely correct. Madness would not consume you in one breath. The progression of becoming a shade was a slow and agonizing process. It was actually ironic, catharsis: the term for the liberation of the soul was used to call the spiral into lunacy of purebloods.
“Just a bit won’t harm me.”
“You’re not even sure of that.”
The barrier started to crack, it was slowly giving out. “Trust me, Sayaka.”
“Ugh!! I hate you!” The dhampir shouted in resignation, she released Jurina from her iron grip and proceeded to unbutton her overcoat then undo her blouse.
Jurina smiled despite the fatigue. She caressed Sayaka’s cheek, “I’m sorry for being so troublesome.” Her breath was hot but her touch was almost frigid.
“You damn sure are.” Sayaka closed her eyes as Jurina drew near.
In one swift movement, Jurina’s fangs sank into Sayaka’s neck. Upon drinking the dhampir’s blood, the vampire’s eyes shot open, her irises shone in the brightest shade of red. Black veins started to form under Jurina’s eyes as she fed.
She could discern that the taste of Sayaka’s blood would make her delirious if she did not break off…
But why did she not seem to care?
Jurina’s eyelids grew heavy as pure bliss enveloped her. Why should she stop? How could she pry herself away from this tempting warmth filing her mouth with sin? How could she turn away from this radiating energy coursing through her veins like hellfire? Sayaka’s blood…she needed nothing else in this plane of existence.
Lust ached in her bones, greed filled her lungs like poison and passion gripped her throat breathless.
Was this hunger? Was this desire? Why was something that felt so dreadfully good forbidden? It was unfair, it was the height of idiocy to constrain one’s self from this kind of pleasure!
“Jurina!” Sayaka cried out, pushing the vampire away in sheer panic.
Jurina slowly came to, eyes glistening like blood rubies and lips tainted crimson.
She gulped, the exquisite flavor lingered and it was honestly so, so heart-rending to stop.
“You’re…” Sayaka was at a loss for words, moisture started to well at the side of her eyes.
The White Knight took a step back, she turned away from the dhampir’s scrutinizing gaze. “I’m sorry.” She repeated the apology before setting her hand on her sword still impaled on the ground. Was she ashamed?
Jurina closed her eyes, feeling the air shift around her, the barrier fell completely.
In the same moment, hail and ice surged, covering their whole surroundings in frost despite being in the middle of summer. All the Shades that besieged the two fighters, including the dark heart and the colossal tree, was frozen solid.
In a blink of an eye, everything shattered–vaporized.
Sayaka was on the verge of trembling at the overwhelming demonstration of power. Only the two of them stood untouched by the white flux. She held her breath as she watched Jurina’s figure fall but caught the pureblood in her arms forthwith.
“H-hey!”
“My…wound,” came a weak reply.
Sayaka could see it clearly, the laceration the Shade inflicted, the gash that did not heal was tinged with black and purple.
It was poison.
Her partner would be incapacitated for the time being, but that was not their biggest concern right now.
Sayaka examined the sky, it would only be a few minutes until sunlight seeped in from the verdant roof of the Weeping Forest. She needed to bring Jurina to a safe location lest she truly perish.
The dhampir wrapped her coat around Jurina before hoisting the wounded girl on her back and carrying her across the woods.
…
Sayaka couldn’t remember the last time her heart pounded this wildly in her chest. The feeling of dread was a hanging shadow as she ran to beat the sun, Jurina in tow.
Was it when her mother lost all reason?
Was it when her father and sister died?
Was it when the world failed her?
Was it when god abandoned her?
This kind of fear left a bitter taste in her mouth and she swore to herself she would never fall so weak.
She thought her heart was already entombed in stone but why does the thought of losing this reckless vampire, this irritating being she started to call her partner, shake her to her very core?
Gradually, the rays of the sun seeped out from the clouds as dawn broke.
Jurina’s flesh started to parch as sunlight hit her skin. What small consolation it was, that it was not yet the height of day. Otherwise, she would have been reduced to ashes and embers.
Sayaka could feel and hear her writhe in pain. She pulled on the coat enveloping Jurina’s frail body closer to shield the vampire’s face.
She was helpless against the forces of nature, against time and space.
Yamamoto Sayaka, the strongest blood legacy of the Dhampirs, the prodigy, the abomination, couldn’t save a single life when it mattered the most.
With all her strength, Sayaka could only run.
.
.
.
.
.
The doors of the Academy’s main building burst open, surprising and confusing those who were present as they saw Sayaka fall to her knees, exhausted. In her arms, was the White Knight herself, Jurina, barely conscious.
The vampire’s scorched skin started to repair itself as soon as contact with the sun was lost.
“Someone! Please help!” The dhampir pleaded, although she was disheveled and grimy, she was wholly unscathed.
“Jurina’s been poisoned!” Every bit of anguish crushing her heart was made visible on her face as her hands shook while holding her pureblood partner. Murmurs spread through the hall quickly, everyone concerned for Jurina. Three women in white uniforms came, two lifting Jurina from Sayaka’s arms and placing her onto a stretcher, while the other bowed to the dhampir. “Please… save her…” she said in between her heavy breathing. The nurses left, Sayaka watching them roll her down the hallway. Other students whispered voices of concern, but Sayaka couldn’t hear any of them.
.
.
.
.
“She’s in stable condition for now. However, the poison was very strong. We don’t know when she will wake up.”
“This is my fault…If I wasn’t so weak…” Sayaka said bitterly as she and Miyuki stood at Jurina’s bedside. The famed knight was sleeping on a pure white mattress and sheets, an IV injected in her arm, and a mask easing her breathing. At least the darkness helped her heal her burn wounds from the sun, but Sayaka still felt immense guilt. “It wasn’t,” Miyuki said, reassuring her. “You’re the reason she’s still here.”
“But it should never have come to this… I didn’t want her to die. Ha, even though months ago, I wanted nothing to do with her, in that moment…”
As the dhampir’s master, Miyuki understood the discordant emotions flooding Sayaka’s heart. “You’re not a bad person, Sayaka. I’m sure Jurina knows that, too.” “Huh, you think so?” Miyuki nodded, her sincere smile comforted Sayaka immensely. Soon after, the door opened, and Rena stepped in. “Miyuki. We have been summoned.” Although her tone was firm and dutiful, her eyes were obviously glazed with worry as she glanced at Jurina’s unconscious form.
“You wont stay by her side?” Sayaka always felt like Rena was hiding behind a mask, a fortress even. Despite being nothing but kind and supportive, Rena’s true emotions, her heart, was unreadable to the dhampir.
Jurina’s master did not reply. “I’ll see you later, Sayaka.” Miyuki bid farewell.
“Please take care of her.” Sayaka could almost hear the desperation in Rena’s voice. Whatever the reason for Rena and Miyuki’s departure, she swore in hell it had to be terribly important for Rena to chose to leave Jurina’s side at this dire moment.
After the two humans took their leave, there was only silence.
Sayaka pulled up a chair and sat down, still staring at Jurina and vividly recalling everything that had just happened. She remembered a pain in her chest, a tightness, when she saw Jurina growing weak from poison. As if her own body was screaming in denial. A fighter as strong as Jurina shouldn’t be writhing in pain. The sight of her partner suffering felt like a claw grasping her throat, straining her breathing.
She felt like her heart was sinking, like the ground she stood on could cave in any minute.
And she didn’t understand why. Was it some sort of instinct? A whim? Or just some deep feeling in her she had never realized was there..?
Sayaka didn’t know anymore. But she didn’t want to think of anything else. Her main concern was Jurina. The White Knight, who she had disputed and argued with many times, the one she felt deeply that she would be better without.
Someone everyone else in the Academy saw as strong and almost inviolable… was now laying in front of her, vulnerable and fading.
“Jurina… please…come back,” Sayaka whispered, closing her eyes tight as she clasped her hands together.
She glanced up again, her gaze falling on the cross necklace resting on Jurina’s chest. The transit and all the shuffling must have exposed the necklace out of her regalia.
“Astraea…” Sayaka invoked the name of that God, the one she had lost faith in. And with no other reason, she bowed her head.
Deference,
Despair,
Hope.
“If… if you’re real.. Astraea… then I beg of you… spare her.. Spare Jurina’s life. Please… please…”
What am I doing now? I’ve become so desperate to rely on this deity just for her…
Suddenly, she felt something cold. She lifted her hand and touched her cheek.
“You’re… crying?”
Warm fingers tapped her other cheek twice, wiping away fresh tear drops.
Jurina managed to smile faintly under the oxygen mask.
“It doesn’t suit you.”
Sayaka didn’t know if she would cry harder or laugh. The only thing she recognized was the absolute euphoria that washed over her at the sight of Jurina regaining consciousness.
Sayaka was close to breaking down, “I hate you!” Despite her callous words, they both knew it was a lie.
Right then and there Yamamoto, the strongest blood legacy of the Dhampirs, the prodigy, the abomination, all powerful and dense, Sayaka absolutely knew she was screwed.
Matsui Jurina, her fool of a partner, was the reason for this torrent of emotions: fear, insecurity, attachment, loyalty, fondness, longing and perhaps even more.
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 15-40, Spring
Memory IV: Understanding Your Heart
“Ah, I thought I’d find you here.”
Without even turning her back, the dhampir knew the owner of such voice. It was the source of both her annoyance and vivacity.
“What do you want, J?” Under the night sky, with these many stars, Sayaka felt at peace. Perhaps her choice of the roof top as a place to unwind and reflect alone was cliche? Or perhaps, deep inside her, she did want to be found?
A few months ago, a lot of people would claim that Yamamoto Sayaka was a cold-blooded killing machine–rigid, antisocial and distrusting. However, her association with Jurina and Miyuki definitely breathed in new life into the once outcast. Her scheming master and her pesky partner gave her more and more reasons to smile these days whether or not she cared to admit.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Sayaka.”
“You’re so narcissistic.” The dhampir huffed.
Jurina sat beside her partner. She pulled her knees closer to her chest and rested her chin on them. “So what did I do this time?”
“Nothing, leave me alone.”
“Come on, we both know you can’t resist me.”
“Get over yourself.”
A long sigh, “Why do you insist on being difficult? Such a tsundere.”
“What?!” Sayaka finally turned to Jurina irritably, she pulled the pureblood by the collar. Effectively riled up by the allegation. “I am not a tsundere!”
Jurina held the dhampir’s gaze with infallible calm. She searched Sayaka’s dark eyes for some kind of reaction.
Sayaka’s eyebrow twitched. Jurina’s amber eyes seemed to engulf her and she almost thought the other girl was reading her mind. Suddenly, the close proximity between the two of them, their faces barely an inch apart, the ability to notice every detail on Jurina’s face, grew very disorienting.
“Are you so bored to come to me? Why won’t you play around with your fangirls?” The dhampir abruptly looked away, pretending to scrutinize something, anything out there in the dark horizon. Why was it so awkward now? She would have brushed off the pureblood’s antics under normal circumstances.
“Are you jealous?” Jurina let out a melodic giggle.
“Oh for heaven’s sake Jurina, what do you want?” Sayaka swore she could rip out her hair any minute if this mind game between the two of them persisted.
“As I said earlier, you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’m not, whatever gave you that idea?”
Jurina frowned childishly. “Since that incident in the Weeping Woods you stopped spending time with me. You refuse to eat lunch with me, Miyuki-chan and Rena-sama. You decline every chance to be my sparring partner. You don’t show up to our midnight jogs around the campus and that’s like the only quality time we have left, you know. You also haven’t spoken more than five words to me that isn’t school or mission related. Now, tell me again you’re not avoiding me.” The pureblood proceeded to drone on, hearing her use that immature tone would surely surprise the other students who idolized her. Jurina was amusingly clingy and doting that Sayaka swore she was starting to act like a spoiled girlfriend or something.
“And it’s not like I’m being possessive or anything. I mean, I know you hate being my partner but I thought you finally got over it and we were finally getting along.” There was genuine hurt in her eyes.
Sayaka breathed deeply. “I just have a lot of things in my mind.”
The Sayaka from before wouldn’t apologize, wouldn’t even give a hint of an explanation. “I’m sorry if you felt like I was pushing you away.” But the Sayaka right now was more compassionate, more patient, more honest and refreshingly…more human.
“Tell me why.” Jurina was persistent, that was a fact. Sayaka was so tempted to shut her down, but some part of her absolutely hated the idea of upsetting the vampire. Funny, she used to enjoy provocation and petty squabbles.
Tell you what? That I’m so conflicted with my feelings? That I feel so confused it’s almost difficult to breathe? That your presence or absence affects me? That I can’t forgive myself over the thought of almost losing you? Damn it Jurina!
She wanted to say all those things but couldn’t even begin to weave the words. The last time she let people in her heart, they failed her miserably.
Sayaka scratched the back of her neck. “I’m scared…of getting attached.” She blurted out. It was a neutral statement–it was the truth.
“You’re my partner,” Jurina held on to the other girl’s shoulder. “I won’t leave you, whatever happens.”
Sayaka’s gaze fell to the floor, as if suddenly finding her own shoes captivating. “My mother said that once.” Her tone was laced with sadness and yearning and regret. “But she left. My father and sister too.”
Jurina knew she had opened the floodgates of something, something deep, dark and painful and she could not find it in herself to press on. “I’m sorry for overstepping my boundaries.” She respected Sayaka’s solitude. “If you wish for me to leave–”
“No, I want you to hear this.”
“Very well…” Jurina grew silent as she let the dhampir speak of her past.
“I was abandoned by my real parents but the mother and father I came to know loved me with all their hearts. Regrettably, life has a way to mess us up even further. Mother became a shade and was locked inside the attic; despair ate her inside out. Father tried to kill her before she lost it completely. He couldn’t do it; he was overcome by love and fear and vain hope that she would come back. So mother mangled him and my sister to pieces. Can you imagine how it felt when I came home to their innards painting the walls, mother smiling at me?”
Jurina gave her a look of absolute melancholy. Was it empathy or just pity? “Maybe. After killing so many of them. Maybe I could.” What did a pampered pureblood know about despair?
The dhampir’s hands shook as she examined them, as if seeing all the blood spilled by her own feats. “She was my family and when I pulled that trigger, when her head exploded, I didn’t feel anything.” She let out a bitter laugh, “The Council summoned me after and since then, I’ve only kept killing to survive. I’m a monster who finds no remorse in death.”
It was clear to Jurina now why the incident of her drinking the dhampir’s blood left a strong response. Sayaka was afraid, mortified of history repeating.
Jurina locked her in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for what? For letting Sayaka go through that fear again? For not knowing the dhampir earlier to ease her burden? If she could pour out all her strength, all her devotion and kindness to Sayaka, she would.
No Jurina, you turning into a Shade isn’t the only thing that suffocates me; the fact that I can’t even begin to fathom the thought of losing you scares me to death.
If this is love, I don’t want it.
Before Sayaka could respond, Miyuki appeared behind them. “I apologize for interrupting, but Jurina-chan the Council beckons you. Rena-chan is already at the Shrine of Memories.”
Miyuki and the pureblood exchanged knowing glances before her gaze fell on her own servant, a million things already running in her mind.
.
.
.
.
.
They say love makes us strong;
Makes us hopeful,
Makes us whole.
They say love can conquer odds;
Despite time or distance;
I have only loved you completely,
passionately,
chastely,
But why does it hurt so much?
“Why?!” Jurina cried out, her voice resonating against the walls of the shrine building. Beside her, Rena stood silent, clasping her hands together while staring at the floor. Surrounding them were statues of white stone, their eyes obscured by pieces of red cloth. “It has come to our attention that you have both been showing signs of romantic affection. And though it disheartens us to arrive at this decision, we are merely acting according to the Laws of–” “Why?! Why is that so wrong?!”
“Jurina-sama, you should know very well that harboring romantic feelings for your master is forbidden. And you both have been shown guilty of this very act.” One of the Council members retorted. “These affairs you’ve been having are a violation of the vows you have sworn as only master and protector. You, Jurina-sama, are nothing more than her knight. To fall in love with her is simply–” Another tried to reason out. “Simply what?” Jurina would not hear any of it. Tears welled in her eyes. “What’s wrong with loving her?”
“Affairs between humans and vampires are proscribed because they produce dhampirs–those vile, disgraceful creatures.”
“You know nothing about them!” The young vampire took offense. “Jurina…” Rena attempted to placate her servant. Jurina’s emotions were all over the place and she feared it would do the vampire more harm than good to rebel against the Council.
“Rena-sama is beautiful and kind, she’s diligent with her work, and she cares for others. More than anything, she cares for me.”
The Council grunted and grumbled in disappointment.
“To not fall in love with her…is impossible.”
“Jurina, that’s enough!” Rena’s voice rose, she held the vampire’s shoulder. Although her heart almost leapt out of her chest, although every part of her was breaking, she was the rational one, she was the responsible one, she was the obedient one.
“R-Re…na?”
The senior member of the Council spoke, “Matsui Jurina, you are sentenced to 50 years of isolation in the Labyrinth of Shadows. Your release will be conditional. All your activities are put on hold as of this moment and you will be relieved from this institution until further notice.” Anti-magic chains were cuffed on Jurina’s wrist.
“Please stop.” Rena asserted. “I’ll take responsibility for this… So, don’t say anymore.” Her voice was calm and unwavering, even though Jurina could see droplets of tears forming at the rims.
Jurina felt Rena’s grip tighten on her shoulder.
“I’ll accept the punishment.” Rena would do anything within her power to protect her knight, at least this once, it was her turn to save Jurina. “Rena-sama, you can’t! Please don’t do this.” The chains that bound Jurina rattled as the council members fought to subdue her.
“It’s okay… It’ll be okay,” Rena coaxed, trying to reassure the crying vampire. “I don’t regret… loving you, Jurina.” Rena kissed her cheek, her lips touching the tears that streamed down. She gave a bittersweet smile before walking past Jurina’s inconsolable form, facing the Council. She pulled back the band holding her hair in a ponytail and allowed the raven locks to flow down her back. “As atonement for my actions, I shall relinquish myself as Matsui Jurina’s master. With this, I abdicate my family’s seat in the Council.” “No! No…you can’t! I refuse to accept it!” “Very well. Hand over your Lacryma ring.” Rena removed the ring from her finger, handing it to the senior member. She was then handed a small blue bottle. “With this elixir, you surrender all your memories. Everything will be as if it had never been. And you shall leave this place.” “Don’t… please, don’t leave me alone…Rena…” Despite the strong metal binding her, Jurina fought to stop the ritual. Rena turned back, wiping away a single tear as she gave one last smile.
“Goodbye… Jurina.”
With those words spoken, she lifted the elixir to her lips and drank in one swift gulp.
Jurina wept bitterly, still trying to reject the reality that was unfolding before her. Why was she so foolish? Why did this twisted restriction exist? Why could she not be free to love who she wished? How could something so pure and innocent be a sin?
Setting the vial down, Rena slowly walked back to the crying vampire. “Jurina…” She spoke lovingly, raising her hand to hold the vampire’s cheek and wipe away the fresh stream of tears. “As my last request… please don’t cry for me anymore. Someday, I want you to be happy.”
Even though it was against every fiber of her being, everything that loved Rena, even as she cried, Jurina could not deny her or disobey. She knew she had to fulfill Rena’s wish, even if it only brought her anguish.
“As you wish…Master.”
Rena’s eyes then sealed close as she collapsed.
Jurina caught her before she hit the floor, kneeling down as she cradled the most important existence in her life. She choked on a sob, “Goodnight, Rena-sama.”
…
As Sayaka returned from the rooftop, she saw Rena down the hall, being led by a much older woman. Her once sanguine eyes were now downcast as she headed toward the main doorway of the Academy.
“Rena-san?” Sayaka called out, catching the human’s attention. “Where are you going?”
Rena gave her a puzzled look. She ignored Sayaka and continued her regular course.
“Hey, wait!” Sayaka ran to her, grabbing her by the arm. “Did you see Jurina? What did the Council have to say?”
“W-what are you talking about?” Rena answered, backing away slightly at the sudden intrusion of this nameless stranger. “Who’s Jurina?”
“Wh-?”
“Excuse me,” The old woman forced Sayaka to release the former master. She then nodded at the human, “You may go, Rena-sama. I’ll have a word with this student.”
“All right.” Rena quickly left, heading towards the exit.
“What’s going on here? Why doesn’t she–”
“Matsui Rena-sama has relinquished her duties here,” the woman explained. “The Council has performed an Overwrite.”
Sayaka furrowed her brows. “Overwrite…? What the hell is that?”
“To put in simple terms, she had her memories of her time here as Matsui Jurina’s master wiped from her.” “What? Why would you–Jurina wouldn’t…”
“I know you’re new and you probably weren’t informed, but I will tell you now so the same mistake would not be made. Rena-sama and Jurina-sama acted against the Laws vowed between master and protector, and as punishment, Rena-sama took it upon herself to step down from her position and abandon her memories.”
“So what now? Jurina’s without a master?”
“Don’t fret. The Council should be preparing a new master for her, as we speak.” …
The silver moon was the witness to her cries of misery. Jurina wept under the night sky, holding her knees as she bitterly cried over Rena’s departure. She was on the verge of letting herself waste away until sun rise. Perhaps, it would be less painful to burn to death than to endure a life without her master.
“I know you wanted me to be happy… but, Rena-sama… I… I can’t…do this….”
While drowning in her thoughts, a new voice broke her from her reverie. “Will you be okay? Dawn is approaching.” She looked back and saw a young girl, a high schooler? Short brown hair framed the girl’s face like a japanese doll. Jurina quickly wiped away her tears, she hated being seen in such a vulnerable state.
“I apologize for my unsightly appearance, my lady.” She struggled to maintain composure. “Would you unburden your heart upon me?”
“I-I… don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand. But still, here, take it.” The girl pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to Jurina.
As she accepted, that’s when she saw it;
A ring on her finger, white stone glistened like the brightest of stars. The very same one that Rena once wore. The vampire lifted her chin, her eyes wide. “…Who are you?” “Forgive me for not introducing myself first.” The girl bowed. “My name is Miyawaki Sakura. As of this moment, I am bound to you, Jurina-san.” This dainty girl, Sakura, was her new master.
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 15-281 Autumn
Memory V: Retribution
Jurina’s actions were not without punishment, of course. But, thanks in part to Rena relinquishing herself and fully accepting her fate, the burden of Jurina’s punishment had been lightened. Instead of 50 years in an ever-changing and mind-scrambling labyrinth, she now only had to spend one month wandering in there.
All alone, with only her memories of what once were.
She cried for her until her eyes were sore, red and puffy, and her voice grew hoarse from her bitter weeping. Every moment she closed her eyes for sleep, she dreamed only of Rena. Those dreams which once made her heart warm and brought her serenity, not only gave her heartbreak and restless nights.
She began to think years in the Labyrinth of Shadows would be far less painful than this. That letting her mind shatter from multiple dead ends and ghosts of the past haunting her, would cause her less suffering than a life without Rena by her side.
Chains at her wrists, curled up in her own corner of the maze, she grasped onto the Polaris cross around her neck.
“Astraea-sama… give me salvation… before this despair claims me…”
….
Miyuki sat comfortably, drinking her afternoon tea and browsing through the book she sequestered the last time Sayaka raided an old church library turned sanctum for Shades. She enjoyed getting trinkets from Sayaka’s missions.
The dhampir emerged from her master’s chambers, elegantly wrapped boxes of clothes stacked like a tower in her arms. “Where did you want these annoying textiles?”
“They’re the latest parisian fashion Sayaka, don’t be so tasteless. Put them in the corner and join me for some tea.”
“Oui oui, Mademoiselle Belle!” The dhampir jested. She accomplished her task before sitting beside her master.
“Why have you been spending time in my room so often?” Miyuki raised a brow, her tone highly inquisitive. “It’s quite unusual, are you ill?”
“I am not.” Sayaka was quick to rebuff. She poured tea for Miyuki before having her own.
“Hmmmmm, are you love sick then?”
Sayaka almost coughed out her tea. “Hell no!”
Miyuki’s fingers fumbled with a french macaron on her plate. “I’m your master, I know your heart, Sayaka-chan.”
“Of course you do, Miyuki. You’ve been playing me for so long.” The dhampir snorted, she was stopping herself from guffawing.
“You have to give me more credit. With a thick-headed servant like you, other Masters would have forced you into submission long ago.” Miyuki was every bit correct. Her relationship with Sayaka was unheard of. There was no formality between them, no honorifics or docility. The dhampir enjoyed her freedom much fully than others but she was unmistakably loyal to her human custodian.
“Well, if it wasn’t me, any other minion would bore you to death.” Sayaka knew Miyuki’s preferences, things she disliked, small nuances in her personality that other people would gloss over. It was surprising, the dhampir was not one to follow any authority figure but Miyuki was special, Miyuki was fun and interesting.
“True, you provide me much needed entertainment in this mundane life.”
“You make it sound like I’m just a tool, I’m hurt.” Sayaka feigned being offended.
The human snickered. “Well, so what’s really bothering you?”
“Why do you and Jurina always assume something’s up when I get all friendly?”
“Because Jurina-chan and I find it highly suspicious.”
“How’s Jurina?” Sayaka turned serious, it has been three weeks since she last saw the pureblood after the latter’s punishment took effect.
“She’s holding on. The Labyrinth of Shadows is a torture chamber, but it only manifests the darkest parts of your soul. It won’t show you what’s not there.” Miyuki opposed the vampire’s punishment but she could not gather enough support to veto it.
“I hate these archaic laws of your people. Those purebloods too, they’re all fanatics.” Sayaka tried to fight her way into the Labyrinth to haul Jurina’s ass out of there one time. But she was greeted by a whole delegation from The Sect and it was impossible to resist.
“Me too.” Miyuki sighed deeply. “But we’ll see her soon. Besides, her new master has been religiously visiting her everyday. Don’t think that Jurina would falter that easily.”
“New master, huh?”
“Sakura-chan may be inexperienced but she’s genuine.”
“She’s young, only 16 summers or so. I guess something like that would be natural.”
“Still, I’m worried. It won’t be easy for Jurina to open up to Sakura-chan, moreover, let go of her feelings for Rena. But, if she doesn’t soon…” Miyuki frowned, setting down her tea. “She could very well become consumed by despair and enter the first stage of catharsis.” If Jurina allows the Labyrinth to consume her, the Council would dispose of her without second thought.
“I’ll kill her before that happens.”
“I’m sure you’d be ordered to.” Miyuki held Sayaka by the chin, urging the dhampir to look at her. “I know you feel for her quite strongly, so hear me out when I tell you this…” She wasn’t hard to figure out, really.
Sayaka was at a loss for words at the sudden intrusion to her personal space. Talking about her emotions was something she would never be well-versed in. She did not know how to respond to her master’s insinuation.
“Rena is an existence you cannot eclipse. But you give her strength in a different way, Sayaka. Jurina will come back to us.”
The dhampir’s gaze fell to her side, as if embarrassed. “Why are we having this conversation, Miyuki?”
“Because I’m the only one you’d listen to. You should be more honest with yourself. It’s all right to want something…or someone, Sayaka.”
…
Sakura crouched down to her servant’s body sprawled out on the stone floor. Gently, she lifted Jurina’s head to rest on her lap.
The vampire’s eyes languidly opened, she was greeted by her new master’s earnest countenance. “Sakura-sama, is it really you? Or am I still dreaming?”
“You are indeed awake, please don’t overexert yourself.” Sakura prevented Jurina from rising up, as the other girl attempted to pay respect.
“I apologize that you have to see me like this.” Jurina’s time in the Labyrinth broke her spirit; the pallor of her skin, the dark circles around her eyes, the fragility of her hair and weakness in her voice–all of it was alarming. “I have only brought you discomfort since,”
The human tried to wipe away the dirt that sullied the vampire’s face. “Jurina-san, I cannot replace what your heart has lost. But I will try with everything I have to ease your burden.”
“I do not deserve my lady’s kindness.” Jurina grasped the hand that lay on her cheek with all the life left in her.
*~*~*~*
New Star Calendar 15-287, Autumn
Memory VI: Passion
Less than a week had passed like nothing. The air was starting to turn crisp from the coming winter, and the clouds in the night sky hid the stars and the moon. Finally, Jurina’s confinement in the Labyrinth of Shadows came to an end. Sayaka was informed by the head sentinel that Jurina was ready for extraction.
She was led by the guard clad in black armor, the maze shifting its pathways to make a straight path to Jurina’s location. Sayaka looked past the guard to see her partner, collapsed on the ground.
“Jurina!” Sayaka quickly ran to Jurina’s side, distraught with what she saw. The vampire had lost weight, and was deathly pale. The bottoms of her feet were covered in dirt and scratches. The anti-magic chains left red ring marks on both her wrists.
“Damn old bastards! How can they do this to you?” Sayaka supported the vampire.
“At ease, Sayaka” Jurina rasped, still trying to maintain military decorum. “Let’s go home.”
…
Miyawaki Sakura sat on the divan, her hands tightly grasping the fabric of her skirt as she waited for Miyuki’s next words.
The older master paced to and fro her suite’s salon adorned with an old oak center table and a leather chesterfield. She rubbed her chin. “So, what you’re saying is that you inherited Rena’s consciousness?” Miyuki was a bit skeptic of Sakura’s claim, in all honesty.
“Indeed, Miyuki-san… I was given her strategic expertise, her archives, her memories…everything.”
Miyuki stopped pacing, “Everything? Even her feelings?” Her words were almost tinged with exasperation. “I don’t know how The Council does their ‘Overwrites’ but–”
“Not her emotions; it’s impossible to absorb that. Still, I ‘remember’ her fondness towards Jurina-san.”
“That saves us the effort to teach you how these battles are fought.” The older girl sighed in relief. “And also saves us from a rather sticky situation…”
Sakura looked at her quizzically.
“Sakura, you see…my servant has become quite attached to Jurina. And as her Master, I would do anything to safeguard her feelings. I can’t have you complicating things…”
“I don’t understand what you mean. They’re partners, it’s only natural to be so attached. I cannot grasp just where I stand in that equation, Miyuki-san.”
Miyuki flopped to the seat beside Sakura, holding her by the cheek. “My dear girl, it’s amoré.”
“A-amore?” Sakura’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. “You mean ‘love’?!”
“Philia, Pragma, Mania, Ludus, Storge, Agape, Eros. Whatever you call it, darling.”
“E-e-eros?!” Sakura blushed even harder.
Miyuki chuckled. “Could it be… you’re a virgin?”
“Miyuki-san, I’m sixteen!”
The older woman smiled, seeing Sakura get so embarrassed, her ears were turning red. “Sweet sixteen, I see. You’ll find the garden of roses quite enticing.” She then stood. “Well, I’m glad you took some time to visit me. Sayaka and Jurina will return soon, shall we make our preparations, Sakura-chan?”
“Preparations?”
Miyuki pulled her by the hand as they made their way to the kitchen.
Sakura stopped from walking, “But you know Miyuki-san….with Rena-san’s memories… It almost felt like she knew The Council would do this and that she was trying to make Jurina-san rely on other people in her absence.”
Was that why you were adamantly requesting for a partner for Jurina? Despite the fact that she didn’t need one? Did you know you would leave, Rena? Miyuki speculated in her mind.
….
Sayaka lifted her gaze from polishing the barrel of her handgun as loud knocking echoed. She proceeded to receive the person at her doorstep. “Who is it?”
She found Jurina in the corridor, covered only by her sleeping robe. Her expression was one thing Sayaka couldn’t quite piece together, but she was sure the vampire was mildly shaking. “What’s wrong, Jurina? Have you reported to Sakura already?” They parted ways a few hours ago after arriving at the academy. Sayaka resolved that it was proper for Jurina to confer with her new master first, the pleasantries between them could wait.
Jurina did not speak, without the dhampir even inviting, she walked into her partner’s quarters.
“H-hey,”
When the vampire lifter her gaze, she did not look Sayaka in the eye. Suddenly, the decrepit old world map that hung on the wall was more captivating. “I thought I wasn’t coming back.” Jurina whispered.
“But you did. You’re just too stubborn to kill.” The dhampir tried to make light the stifling atmosphere around them. It was their first real conversation after Jurina’s time in the Labyrinth. She could only imagine the horrors that haunted the girl there. “Take a seat, I’ll get you something hot to drink.”
Before Sayaka could even take another step, Jurina grabbed her by the wrist. “I dreamt of you. Well, it was mostly about Rena, but you were there…many times.” The vampire finally locked gazes with her partner. Her amber eyes glistened against the light of the fireplace.
What was this girl doing? Did the Labyrinth mess her up too much? A few screws loose? Sayaka was bewildered. She attempted to play it cool, “Was I trying to slay you?” She let out an awkward laugh.
“No… you were…we were…” Jurina’s voice trailed off.
Sayaka breathed in deeply, as if trying to compose herself. “You’re tired. Get some rest, J.” She fought hard to sound neutral, Jurina’s fingers interlocked with her hand and a jolt of electricity shot through her spine. Her mind could barely register what was happening.
“Sayaka…I…” It was then and there that Jurina’s facade shattered. She started sobbing uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook as her and Sayaka’s twined fingers unraveled.
“What did they do to you? Tell me? I won’t forgive them–” As Jurina buried herself in Sayaka’s chest, the dhampir felt her blood boil, the sight of her partner suffering, breaking down, filled her with indignation that she was sure she could go out on a rampage. That torture chamber should be outlawed, she would burn The Council to the ground if she had to.
“I want to die…I want to die…” Jurina repeated over and over again as Sayaka enveloped her in a tight embrace. She felt like a hole was being burned through her heart, like her lungs were flooding with water. Was she spiraling into catharsis? Was she finally losing herself?
Rena’s departure, her family’s unbelievable expectations, the Council’s disappointment, everyone’s judgment, the thought of failing Sakura, her new master–Jurina wanted to just disappear.
“Look at me. Look at me, it’s over. Those ghosts won’t reach you” Sayaka tried to calm her. She urged Jurina to meet her gaze. “You promised you won’t leave me.” Her hold on the vampire did not falter.
Jurina’s whimpering eased for a moment. “I’m so afraid…that you’re not real too.” The Labyrinth of Shadows chained her to her misery, showed her what she wanted, gave her what she feared. It was a realm of illusions, a dungeon that broke her over and over again.
“Sayaka, I need–” Before she could speak further, Sayaka captured her lips. The kiss was scorching and impatient, slick with lust. The dhampir’s lips were soft and disarming that Jurina swore she would melt and drop on her knees if not for her partner’s grip on her back and hips.
Jurina caressed the sides of Sayaka’s face, fingers trailing from the dhampir’s cheek to her clavicle. Tongues battled for dominance as threads of saliva hung from their lips each time they plunged and withdrew from each other’s mouth in an almost animalistic frenzy.
Sayaka’s real, she’s warm, supple, fragrant; she’s here.
The vampire was panting breathlessly while undoing the buttons of Sayaka’s tunic. Deft fingers trailed circles on the dhampir’s toned abdomen. “Stop me now.” Jurina leaned in so that their foreheads touched. A little more and she swore it was the point of no return.
“No. Tell me you want this.” Sayaka moaned as her partner sucked on the sensitive flesh just below her ear; fingernails digging into her arm and hips. Carnal desire filled her with unbearable wanting. Her hand found its way inside Jurina’s nightgown, proceeding to disrobe her. “…as much as I do.”
Jurina pushed Sayaka to the bed, falling just above the older girl forthwith. Her lips hovered over her partner’s face, her knees buried on the mattress on each side of Sayaka. “Let me lose myself in you.” She finally discarded Sayaka’s blouse and dove into her chest, leaving red marks in the wake of her kisses.
“As you wish.” Sayaka yanked Jurina, skillfully maneuvering her body so that she was now on top of the vampire. “Tonight, you won’t remember anything else.” Her fingers sank between Jurina’s thighs, stifling the vampire’s moans with feverish kisses as she worked her body senseless.
Over and over and over again, without time to think or to speak, without time to resist– waves of pleasure tore Jurina’s body apart. Her mind was a rupture of colors, her senses filled with their mingling scents, her hands fisting on the bed sheets. The vampire’s body grew hypersensitive that the mere brush of Sayaka’s fingers made her quiver.
Back arched, mouth agape, eyes tightly closed.
Her body trembling and her breathing all frantic.
Each time she rode her high, she could only moan Sayaka’s name.
Yamamoto Sayaka was her damnation.
Yamamoto Sayaka was her salvation.
Whichever it truly was, she did not seem to care anymore.
.
.
.
.
.
When the sun rose, their limbs were still tangled beneath the sheets. Sayaka couldn’t remember how many times they made love last night, her body ached in all the right places and love marks were scattered about on both their skins. She glanced to her side and found Jurina still sleeping. Although her strength was spent, for the first time in a very long while, Sayaka was at peace. She closed her eyes again, willing herself to submit to the lullaby of Jurina’s soft breathing.
When she awoke the second time, Jurina was watching her.
“Good morning,” the vampire greeted, a fresh flush of red tinted her cheeks.
What is she? A virgin? Sayaka almost laughed at her partner’s hesitant voice. “Good morning, are you well?” She responded.
“Why don’t you hate me?” Came Jurina’s abrupt question.
It wasn’t the best ‘morning-after’ debriefing Sayaka imagined.
“Look, I don’t feel like a rebound, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“But to suddenly ask from you this…this…” The vampire could not find it in herself to continue her own sentence.
“I wanted that…I wanted you. No more arguments.” Sayaka was always frank, never one to mince words just to appeal to others.
Jurina nodded then stared at the ceiling, “During my time in the Labyrinth, I would dream of you often. It confused me very much. Then, that night when you came for me, I was sure… I felt something strongly.”
“I don’t expect you to let go of Rena so easily. But I’m feeling what I’m feeling and it won’t disappear anytime soon.” Sayaka sighed, but her words were woven with understanding and patience. She knew how it felt to start over, to regain the feeling of your legs after a nasty fall.
“It wouldn’t be as troublesome if you hated me instead.” Suddenly, the turbulent days from the past, back when they were both still struggling to understand, more so tolerate each other, seemed less complicated.
“But I don’t. So stop stressing too much.” Sayaka shifted to her side, a bit annoyed at her partner’s brooding.
“Rena once said that she wanted me to be a ‘light’ to you.” Jurina drew closer and wrapped her right arm around Sayaka’s waist. “But it seems you’re the one who’s keeping me alive.” She buried her face on the dhampir’s back. Sayaka smelled like rain, and lilies and gunpowder.
Sayaka held Jurina’s hand on her hip. “Just get some sleep.” She interlocked their fingers. “I’ll stay in with you until noon.”
*~*~*~*
Present time: Winter
The smell of blood reeked in the air; death would finally end its long courtship.
How did it all come to this again?
Sayaka remembered being impaled by something, It was sharp and big, it came right through her ribs.
Was it a Claw? A tailbone? A fang?
Ah, we were fighting a snow leviathan conjured by The Necromancer. A mighty demon from the Book of the End.
We had him cornered, almost defeated but that devil escaped!
She felt its large tooth break through her flesh; she saw red liquid gush out of her body before collapsing. She wanted to fight, wanted to chase down the damned devil that played with life and death. But her body wouldn’t move. She couldn’t even lift a finger.
The kiss of the snow against her skin,
Jurina’s cries,
Her shaking hands;
Lingering feelings of warmth.
I saved her, I ran without even thinking…just to save her.
Sayaka lost consciousness.
.
.
.
.
There was darkness, infinite darkness like a cage that constricted her breathing. Light came to her in small flickering flashes.
“She won’t last another night.”
“You’re lying! Shut up, you’re lying!” Miyuki’s voice rang defiantly.
“Miyuki-san, please get a hold of yourself.” Now it was Miyawaki.
“Do something or I will destroy this campus. It matters not if they execute me.”
Then it was Jurina–full of rage,
Full of hurt,
Full of desperation.
“Don’t be an idiot, J.” Sayaka wanted to say, but darkness claimed her.
…
The next time the dhampir came to, she recognized the ceiling of her room. Her body felt like lead and her lungs burned. It was a pain to even try to sit up.
Her vision readjusted and she found Miyuki running immediately to her aid.
“Sayaka, don’t move too much! You’ll re-open your wounds!” She noticed the bandages all over her body, bloodstains were particularly heavier on her torso area.
“Why am I alive?” Sayaka rasped; it almost sounded like she was irritated that her demise had been undone.
Miyuki swore she would hit her servant in the face if not for the dhampir’s injuries. “Can’t you be thankful instead? You jerk!” Although her words were harsh, tears were actually welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I was trying to be funny…”
“Don’t. Everyone’s on the edge just to bring you back.”
“How did you do it?” Sayaka was sure it was her final curtain call. There was no hope in cheating death, and yet her she was.
“I didn’t.” Her master’s voice was firm, “Jurina revived you.”
“What is she now? The Virgin Mother?” At that, Miyuki struck the back of Sayaka’s head.
“Ow! Easy on the hemorrhage, woman!”
The human handler was furious. “She gave a fragment of her soul to save you! You unbelievable heathen!”
“It’s alright Miyuki-chan. Sayaka’s alive, it’s all that matters.” Jurina’s voice interrupted their banter, followed by the slow closing of the door. Both occupants of the room couldn’t break their gazes from the new comer.
The vampire made her way to Sayaka and Miyuki. An eerie veil of calm graced her features. Her raven hair had grown out past her shoulders and her left iris was noticeably ash grey. “You’re finally awake.” Her voice was leveled, almost frosted.
Sayaka was expecting a warm hug, a whiny chiding or some show of affection. Not this…not this empty reaction.
“Y-yo.” The dhampir greeted her with mixed feelings. If Matsui Jurina choses to put up her walls then Sayaka would respond accordingly. “Been a while Juri–” She was unable to complete her sentence.
Jurina collapsed on Sayaka’s bedside, holding onto the latter’s arm in an iron grip; as if fearing that her partner would disappear. Tears rolled down from her normal eye. “I…I missed you so much.”
Sayaka ran her fingers through the vampire’s long hair, urging her to calm down. “I’m back.” She whispered against Jurina’s ear, her voice brimming with life.
…
Vampires have a fragment of Polaris in their souls,
It allows them to use magic;
Makes them immortal.
A full squad of soldiers carried out their offensive stratagem, reaping through the hoard of Shades that came to besiege North Star Academy. Spells and curses filled the air like fireworks; gunfire and clanging of blades echoed as the creatures of darkness fell one by one against the purest of snows.
“Maintain your positions, don’t let any of them get past the gates!” Sayaka bellowed, her succeeding orders were executed in swift, precise fashion by her subordinates.
I’m a dhampir; half-vampire, half human.
An Abomination, a disgrace…a weakling.
“Woah, looks like our lonewolf has finally matured into a leader.” Miyuki teased before releasing a flurry of slashes from her enormous scythe. Heads instantly rolled from each swipe. She stood beside her servant with taunting confidence as she smirked.
They’ve called me many names.
But it didn’t break me.
“What are you doing in the front lines?!”
“I can’t miss out on all the fun, now can I?” Her master proceeded to effortlessly behead their opponents.
“Captain watch out!” One of her members casted a fire burst against a frosted claw emerging out of the snow under them.
The dhampir gave a nod of gratitude before pulling out her guns and shooting down every hostile target within her perimeter–all head shots.
My fragment is supposedly broken.
But due to some twist of fate,
A gust of wind blew past them and instantly, the Shades shattered like crystal ornaments. A familiar figure decked in an immaculate military uniform emerged out of the gale, cape drawn as if protecting someone.
A precious person gave part of her soul to save my life.
The fragment of Polaris inside me, the Black Star, has sparked anew.
“Always with the flashy entrance…” Sayaka groaned.
A bright grin was pasted on Jurina’s face. “Save some for us, guys!” Sakura stepped out of the White Knight’s cape. “Dance to your heart’s content, Master.” the vampire bowed gallantly.
Sakura nodded, her choice of weapon was a thin luminous whip which minced the Shades that tried to advance. “This is really exciting.”
Miyuki clapped, her eyes beaming with pride. “She’s growing into a nice Domina, isn’t she?”
“Don’t tell me you gave her that weapon….your fetishes scares me.” The dhampir side commented.
“Oh shut up! I’m sure Jurina’s enjoys it.”
Jurina frowned, covering her master’s ears. “Don’t say such embarrassing things, Miyuki-chan! Sakura-sama is too pure for this kind of talk!”
Miyuki couldn’t help but giggle.
Just then, a livid shriek caught their attention. All gazes were fixed on the approaching snow golem that plowed through the woods. It’s height could easily be compared to a grown Sequoia.
Sayaka and Jurina turned to their masters in perfect synchronization, as if waiting for their directive.
“Please destroy the assailant.” Sakura gave her order.
“I want it decapitated, fast.” Miyuki made a slicing gesture across her neck.
My name is Yamamoto Sayaka,
My partner is Matsui Jurina.
Both soldiers switched to full offense. They sprinted side by side, with weapons drawn, towards their target.
“Better not slow me down.” Sayaka remarked.
“You wish!”
We are soldiers, blood warriors.
We swore to protect this earth;
To destroy Shades;
Sayaka rained bullets on the fiends that tried to overwhelm them.
To hunt down The Necromancer;
To bring peace among all races.
The White Knight sliced her way through.
“This will be a feast!” Havoc boiled under Sayaka’s skin. The dhampir unsheathed a broad saber that she had customized with a gun muzzle, she had just began using it for close combat–not more than a week actually.
Jurina flicked her sword drenched in black blood. “I’m getting fired up!” The battlefield was a strong aphrodisiac after all.
They landed blow after blow against the snow golem, a barrage of assaults that brought it to its knees. The two warriors seemed like they were dancing, each hit was a continuation of a song. Some would fear that the two women were possessed, enjoying the heat of battle to their heart’s content.
Sayaka raised her free hand to the sky, as if summoning the heavens to open. Thunder rumbled, and the clouds began to swirl around her. A dhampir using elemental magic was unheard of. Then again, Yamamoto Sayaka, in her second life, was no ordinary half-blood.
The war against the darkness is upon us;
A bolt of lightning hit the golem, covering it with sparks of electric currents and flames.
And this is only the beginning.
.
.
.
.
FIN.
#yamamoto sayaka#matsui jurina#watanabe miyuki#matsui rena#jurinee#fanfiction#akb48#ske48#hkt48#nmb48#sayajuri#black star#smut#jurisaku#wmatsui#sayamilky#miyawaki sakura
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Sunshine
Hervey Allen (from ‘The Sea Islands’) Showing its age in a gentle, evocative way...
Do you suppose the sun here lavishes his heat For nothing in these islands by the sea? No! The great green-mottled melons ripen in the fields, Bleeding with scarlet juicy pith deliciously; And the exuberant yams grow golden, thick and sweet; And white potatoes in grave-rows, With leaves as rough as cat-tongues, And pearly onions and cabbages With white flesh sweet as chicken-meat.
These the black boatmen bring to town On barges, heaped with severed breasts of leaves, Driven by put-put engines Down the long canals quavering with song, With hail and chuckle to the docks along; Seeing their dark faces down below Reduplicated in the sunset glow, While from the shore stretch out the quivering lines Of the flat palm-like reflected pines That inland lie like ranges of dark hills in lines. And so to town - Weaving odd baskets of sweet grass Lazily and slow, To sell in the arcaded market Where men sold their fathers not so long ago.
For all their poverty, These patient black men live A life rich in warm colors of the fields, Sunshine and hearty foods; Delighted with the gifts that earth can give, And old tales of Plateye and Bre’r Rabbit; While the golden-velvet cornpone browns Underneath the lid among hot ashes, Where the groundnuts roast Round shadowy fires at nights - With tales of graveyard ghost, While eerie spirituals ring And organ voices sing, And sticks knock maddening rhythms on the floor To shuffling youngsters “cutting” buck-and-wing; Dogs bark; And woolly pickaninnies peek about the door. Sundays, along the moss-draped roads, The beribboned black folk go to church By threes and twos, carrying their shoes; With orange turbans, ginghams, rainbow hats. Then bucks flaunt tiger-lily ties and cobalt suits, Smoking cob pipes and faintly sweet cheroots. Wagons with oval wheels and kitchen chairs screech by, Where Joseph-coated white-teethed maidens sit Demurely, While the old mule rolls back the ivory of his eye. Soon from the whitewashed churches roll away, Among the live-oak trees, Rivers of melancholy harmonies, Full of the sorrows of the centuries The white man hears, but cannot feel.
But it is always Sunday on sea-islands. Plantation bells, calling the pickers from the fields, Are like old temple gongs; And the wind tells monodies among the pines, Playing upon their strings the ocean’s songs. The ducks fly in long trailing lines; Geese honk and marsh-hens quank Among the tidal flats and rushes rank on rank. On island tufts the heron feeds its viscid young, And the quick mocker catches From lips of sons of slaves the eery snatches And trolls them as no lips have ever sung.
Oh, it is good to be here in the spring, When water still stays solid in the North, When the first jasmine rings its golden bells, And the wild wistaria puts forth; But most because the sea then changes tone - Talking a whit less drear, It gossips in a smoother monotone, Whispering moon-scandal in the old earth’s ear.
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The sergeant’s story II -Peregrination
Tales Beyond the Veil Part III
The first noise on the ashen fields was the distant cattle of stones, reverberating from the broken walls of a massive hull crashed into a hillside.
When I first heard it, the hulking form was only vaguely visible in the distance, a jagged form of metal and armor plates, stuck in the dark and scorched earth below. How far exactly it was, I could not discern. Distance had lost its meaning in the fields, that stretched endlessly in all directions right to the horizon. I walked, only guided by my own footsteps. Every once in a while I would turn around and see the traces of my feet, winding their way between wreckage and mechanical bodies, alongside trenches and ditches of sorts. There were enough distinct landmarks of gruesome sights, that I was relatively sure not to walk in a circle. But my path was distorted and the only orientation remained the still light, that had been set for a broken star on the horizon.
In an attempt to avoid further traps, I poked my staff at the ash before me. Here and there it revealed dangerous wire, scattered about entire banks of sand and earth close to me. Everything was quickly covered in ash and behind me, I dragged a whirl of smoke that didn't settle for a long while. Without any sense of direction or time, I did not know how far I had come, nor how long it would take to reach the cattle. I only knew for sure that my vigor was dwindling and my endurance would be reduced to nothing by the drought and pain full march alone. My only consolidation was the past, that came back to me inching, with every step I took. The catalyst of discoveries in my memory was the blue coat I wore and the golden buttons I held in my hand. I found myself examining them over and over again, trying to understand something of a rank or meaning from the past. As I patted down my coat once more, I took more time to unravel the remnants of a belt, that held smaller bags and pockets, some of which were filled with dirt and remnants of equipment. Between spent ammunition, cloth and empty haversack, the most useful thing to be found was an empty flask that I wrung in desperation, maybe for hours, before finally admitting that it was absolutely dry. Before I could bemoan this tragedy, the metal hulk had come close enough to be seen in proper detail.
Something had impelled the metal structure with force. Waves of earth were thrown about and covered in liquid metal. Now that it had solidified, the smooth and smelted surfaces glistened with a rainbow sheen. The irregular forms again gave the wreckage an uncanny organic appearance. I had come to avoid these places, as they were often surrounded by an acidic malodor that caused my already burning lungs to ache. This one, however, was different. Along with the clatter, a noticeable haze enveloped its broken form, that reminded me eerily of seafloor crustaceans with spiky backs.
New sensations and impressions besieged my mind at such pace, that I barely paid attention to the slow recovery of my memories. They seemed too arbitrary to be of help, a were pieces of another life, who rules did no longer apply. But, as I looked on the resonating metal body, I pondered whether I might have been born close to the sea or lived among fishermen, to recognize such unsightly shapes that surely would have never been sold on any market. Then again, maybe my father had been a collector of oddities and that was the reason I so despised the shape of the thing that I was drawn closer to with every step.
Howbeit, my pace was encouraged by the raven-like scavenger, the thing that had followed me at not too far of a distance. Until now, its head had been almost solely focused on the twisted form of my staff, but now it paused, harking for the unfamiliar noise echoing throughout the empty landscape. The sounds, despite being amplified by the metal shell, did not reach far over the land. I had a distinct impression that the sky – or lack thereof – swallowed not only light but also warmth, humidity, and noises from this world.
In the faint haze surrounding the wreckage, however, the noises grew stronger and the crow-thing ever more excited. It actually began to lead and made haste towards a particular rupture in the metallic hull, shaped like a tearing wound received from massive, metal claws.
The air, the dusty, ashen atmosphere, had become the most delicious gift of all because it smelled of rain. On the inside, the shadows were stronger, deeper and pitch black holes led deeper into the broken thing. I squinted my eyes, hoping for them to adjust to the darkness, as I was looking into a world far more familiar to my companion than to myself. I did not trust the creature, the wreck nor the shadows and I would have stayed away. But my intellects judgment was swiftly overruled by the convulsing pain in my chest and the dry retch that now accompanied every breath I took.
I felt neither hunger nor particular pain. My body had survived the great calamity miraculously with little injuries. All of it was drowned in the thirst and breathlessness of this place.
So what choice had I but to follow the instinct that led me to believe, that the haze stemmed from a water fountain, somewhere deeper in this wreck.
In an attempt to intimidate the scavenging crow and all monstrosities in the dark, I tried to lift my staff and point the sharpened end at the nearest shadow. Almost immediately, I stumbled forward without control and it was black before my eyes from sudden dizziness. Half-blind I fell to my knees, one arm raised in anticipation of an attack, and with the other hand, I clutched the staff to regain my balance once again.
Accepting my fate, I shuffled slowly forward, trying to stay in the columns of light extending from holes in the broken hull. In the darkness, I followed the ever stronger noise of clattering stones.
The insides of the metal hulk were filled with grotesque machinery, that spilled out of every rupture akin to intestines of a beached whale. Organs forged of iron and rubbery fabric, oily surfaces and swollen vessels filled with unspeakable mucus dangled from a high ceiling, moving like wind chimes. Chains held armor plates in place, that protected fragile contraptions of glass and pottery, many of them destroyed and reduced to piles of shards, surrounded by the viscid fluids they had held.
I was cautious not to step on them and slowly made my way deeper in. All the functions of the mechanical viscera were beyond my comprehension, I could see that they were no longer in a working state. For that, I was thankful as I was not keen to find out what impossible workings had once held these things afoot. Whether the damage was caused by the impact alone, or if there were signs of decay, I could not say for sure. No rust nor mold was to be found even in the humid parts of the wreckage. It might have been just a day or maybe months since the machine had found its end. My own sense of time had vanished at this point completely.
I made no attempts to count my steps as I ventured into the dark. The distinct feeling, that this thing was larger on the inside than it had appeared before, might have just been an illusion. However, I was certain that the largest hall I soon entered must have been buried completely underground. The only light was the dull twilight that fell inward through a circular hole in the ceiling, maybe five feet over my head. Here, in the middle of a damp and empty chamber, my unlikely companion had found more of its kind. I froze on the verge of the room, that was centered around a single, moving machine.
About two dozen crow-like creatures shared ranks like the audience of a dreadful opera house. On galleries of broken steel, they sat side by side and stared at me with devilish curiosity. The movements were aligned, almost synchronous as they tilted their heads and welcomed my own companion to their nest. It's beak, still covered in blood red spots, made it easy to distinguish from the expecting brood. They sat and waited, patient and in almost complete silence.
The clatter was now so loud that it made me flinch. I could not easily see from where it stemmed, but a stone fell from the highest ranks of the metal creatures, down onto a machine encased in heavy, metal sheets. I had spent enough time with my companion to accuse it of a hidden intelligence, that went beyond that of crows and other scavengers. In fact, I was so convinced of its ability to think, that it would not have surprised me to be led to their king, speaking in human tongue. Suspicious, I assumed the stone was thrown with intent and I looked closer at the machine, that dominated the room.
The apparatus must have been as large as I am tall, a strange device of copper wire and glittering nets that reached high above. Those nets, I saw, attracted the haze, that was slowly moving in through orifices and tubes in the ceiling and all the walls. Why, so I asked myself, would these creatures lure me in, if not to attack me at first sight?
An obvious answer emerged from the dark, once I stepped closer and looked down, to the roots of the machine before the ranks of waiting creatures. A puddle of water had formed, slowly moved by the last stone that had splashed into the crystal clear pool. The haze, condensed on nets above, slowly dripped down along the machine and gathered there, a beautiful source that promised cool refreshment. So pure, so beautiful, so absolutely treacherous as it was.
If not for my companion, I might have fallen ill to the temptation and taken hands full from the pool, dipping my entire head into the water to wash away the ash and blood. But for too long I had watched the thing covering in the darkest corner of my eye. I watched it move enough to be certain, that the crow-things had indeed no need for water by themselves. The mechanical, spindly legs and crystalline eyes had me long convinced, that they lived off other, darker things.
This, so I concluded, could be nothing else but a trap for their victims and as I stepped closer with caution and looked down to the puddles ground, I found my apprehensions confirmed in gruesome fashion.
Bones cleanly picked and almost polished white lay scattered along the bottom of the pool, just hidden enough for the frantic dying to overlook. The white dome of a skull was enough to let me shy away before I could look closer at the number of remnants gathered in this pool.
The first human remains hit me with a severity that I did not expect. Maybe it was the clinical display of bare bones, rather than the dead body of a fallen soldier, that shattered my composure and let me sink to my knees without regard for my safety or thirst. Maybe it was the cruelty of this fountain, that promised so much salvation from the thirst and yet had to offer nothing but death. Maybe, finally, it was the ridicule of the crow-like things, that threw another stone from their spindly claws and clacked with their beaks, as if to taunt me to drink.
To me, this was the end. If I had had the strength to flee, I would have run away at this point. But I was in no state for flight or to fend off the creatures that refused to kill me on their own. Their cackle might have been what saved me, because, after minutes of despair, I found something more in my chest, something born out of spite against the fates that had left me in this hostile place.
Would I, the only conscious mind in all the ashen fields of this world, be deceived and outsmarted by these things? What possibly could they have done to the water to kill each and every victim of theirs?
I clenched my teeth and moved my swollen tongue, forcing the pain from my thoughts and reason into my mind instead.
The air was breathable. Barely so, but I had managed to survive for long enough to consider the air dry but not deadly. The haze, condense out of thin air, was clearly being collected by the machine. Based on assumptions my feverish mind collected, I dared to gamble with my life. These things, these creatures could not have tampered with the air itself. It must have been something in the pool that sickened whoever drank. Considering the amalgamation of substances dripping from all pipes, it might also have been mere coincidence, this poison. The crow-things would surely only profit from their circumstance, rather than setting up such an elaborate trap.
For sure, there were doubts in my mind, but the utter lack of alternative helped my decision.
Slowly, this time with more care, I rose my staff towards the lower corner of the metal webbing, on which the haze of the ashen fields condensed. Keeping my feet safely away from the pool, I collected the droplets on the fringes of the webbing, and watched, as they slowly made their way down the rod, towards my hands.
Just before they touched the dirty sash, I pulled the staff back and stared at them as close as I could. Clear, cool water, just like there seemed to be in the pool. But I didn't want to start with little drops, in the worst case condemning myself to the slowest, most painful death by poisoning. Instead, I took the empty canteen from my belt and fixed it to my staff using the resilient fabric of the sash, pressing the nozzle against the metal, where the droplets had collected. After my makeshift collector was done, I leaned it against the heavy machine and stared at the scavengers in triumph.
My unusual behavior did not seem to have them phased. Only the one with a red beak stared still at my rod, now with intent and I knew that it would push my tool into the poisoned puddle, as soon as I looked away. But I would guard the only hope of water I had with my life. Clenching my fist, I forced a vigorous step in the culprit's direction. The crow-thing looked at me and clacked its beak, but didn't make its move.
For how long I waited only the crows could tell. The dangerous creatures eyed me at all times, as I was slowly investigating the machines all around. I was looking for dials, for levers or wheels, any indication that these machines were meant to be operated by a human being. All the while, I pondered my findings and after the first waves of consternation had subsided, the implications became clearer to me.
Evidently, there were other people here, that had lived long enough to follow the noise and had been eaten by the mechanical scavenging crows. I was not so arrogant as to think no-one else could have escaped the trap if I indeed was going to survive the first sip from my flask. Perhaps somebody had ignored the clanking altogether or left the mechanical cave in search for another source to sustain their life. If I was not the last of them all by sheer coincidence, there was a possibility to find another living person.
Another implication came to my mind much later but was also connected to this strange and vicious trap set by these things. They were all too sure that anything following their clanking lure would be potential carrion. That could only mean that they were not in danger of attracting something dangerous to their kind. This train of thought gave me hope that I did not have to fear much greater predators, than those in whose clutches I had already found myself. I was however still concerned about the cleverness of these things and feared to teach them far to much by letting them watch my behavior for too long.
These thoughts kept me restless, and without a doubt, it took my drained brain far too long to grasp them on this day. Each word that formed in my mind, I pondered for a while and forgot easily, as soon as another clanking stone fell. Ideas of taking the flock of creatures on in a fight were quickly dispelled whenever I looked at their ranks. But my repulsion against their kind grew with every stone they threw, tempting me again with crystal clear waves in the deadly pool.
When the flask was finally halfway filled, I had given up my attempts to stand and sat, leaned against a pillar of some kind, keeping a half-closed eye on the staff. Already I had half forgotten why I went through all this effort for a tiny drink. Just the polished skull of the dead brought the memories back to mind.
Clumsily I grabbed the metal rod and spat curses when precious droplets of water fell down into the poisoned earth. Without hesitating any longer, I took the flask and drank a deep gulp.
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