CW: Mentions of hanging, mentions of torture, mentions of child kidnapping/abuse.
At the same time, a masked figure shrouded in shadow, slips into the neighbouring house. A sparrow chirps loudly in a nearby tree, the sound both piercing and delicate. Leaves rustle, restless from the disturbance. And then there’s silence once more.
When the intruder quietly closes the window behind them, the house floods with warm light. The source, an oil lantern sitting on a rickety old table. And sitting there, peacefully drinking tea, is the intruder’s target.
“Do you enjoy schisandra?” Nuwa enquires, pouring a pleasant fruity scented tea into a second cup. “Come drink it quickly before it cools.”
The intruder freezes. Because of the black cloth wrapped around their nose and mouth, one can only see their eyes – cold, calculating, callous. A subtle flick of the hand produces a small blade that fits snugly into their palm. The edge glints a tarry substance. Likely toxins to paralyse. Or kill.
“Yes, yes, you’re very intimidating.” The old witch huffs and slides the freshly poured tea towards the opposite vacant seat. “Sit and drink the tea. It is courtesy to greet your Edifier before killing them, is it not?”
The masked figure tenses and narrows their eyes. Slowly, warily, they slip the blade away and move towards the table. They stand there for a while, staring at the witch, before they sit down in the proffered seat.
“…You were expecting me.” Mira tugs down her mask and picks up the hot tea cup. She’s not careless enough to drink it, however.
“What made it obvious?” Nuwa snorts, sipping loudly.
“Where is the giant?”
“Bo? I slipped her sleeping medication. She won’t wake until long past dawn.”
Mira watches the other woman drink her tea, trying to suppress the tremor in her hands. Long forgotten memories come to the fore of her mind unbidden. Sweat gathers at her temples. Her heart lurches and shakes. But her face remains as placid as a lake on a windless day.
“Hiding in such an obvious place,” the Nix says, flatly. “It was inevitable that I found you.”
“Actually, I was wondering what took you so long.”
“You wanted me to find you?”
Nuwa smiles. Her milky eyes arch fondly. “You have grown much.”
“And you got old,” Mira observes, a subtle crease in her brows. She doesn’t know why, but her chest clenches when she runs her gaze over those wrinkled and weathered features.
The Nix drops her gaze to the steaming cup of tea in her hands. Her lips tighten into a faint grimace.
“I haven’t poisoned it,” Nuwa says, amused. “Are we not drinking from the same pot?”
“You could have poisoned the cup.”
“Then drink from mine.” The witch offers her half-drunk tea.
Mira considers something silently, before taking a sip from her own cup. It’s delicious. Just the way she likes it.
Nuwa laughs lightly and settles back in her chair. “It’s good to see that you still trust me. However little.”
“I don’t trust you,” Mira says, quickly. She frowns and puts down her cup. “Why are you here, Edifier? Where have you been for all those years? I thought you were–” The woman bites her tongue. I thought you were dead.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“P jw tfgf bea bo veas,” atf klamt rjsr, njuefis. “Cr obg ktfgf P tjnf yffc…” Vtf kjnfr j ucjgifv tjcv ja atf gjwrtjmxif tberf. “Ljcpesjcu tjr yffc ws tbwf rlcmf P ifoa atf Dief Uijlcr.”
“Qtja vb sbe wfjc ys veas?” Zlgj yjiir tfg tjcvr lcab olrar, ifjatfg uibnfr mgfjxlcu ogbw atf obgmf. “Cgf sbe ralii Pwwjmeijaf?”
Nuwa barks a laugh, startling the younger woman. “Had I remained Immaculate, I would have been your Edifier up till now.”
“Yes,” comes the flat response. “You are a traitor to the crown. I should not have expected more from you.”
“Don’t tell me that upsets you?” Nuwa smiles knowingly. “You were never truly Immaculate, despite your desperate efforts to convince yourself otherwise. Is my defection so repugnant?”
“If the lord had not requested for my service, I would have remained Immaculate until my death. I am a Nix, as you once raised me to be.”
“Yes, I did raise you to be a Nix. I tore you down and rebuilt you, bone to skin. Then I, more than anyone, would know your true nature.”
“You left me twenty years ago,” Mira monotones, voice as cold as her façade. “You know nothing of my true nature.”
“Why have you been assisting those foolish boys in their quest to defy the Governor? Is that the duty of a Nix loyal to the crown?”
When Mira says nothing to defend herself, Nuwa hums through her nose and drains her tea. “Furthermore, you are spying on the Mother’s agents for your young master, whose sympathies lie with the rebellion. Does that not make you a crown traitor also?”
“The young master has no affiliation to the rebellion,” Mira says, curtly.
“You know that the Empire is rotten at the core.”
“You dare speak against the Empire in front of Immaculate–”
“The Immaculate is the Empire’s greatest shame,” Nuwa interjects, her own demeanour as sharp as the other’s. “An Empire that would turn their children into Nix – into nothing – should not exist. You are not Nix. You are Mira. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you remain so.”
Mira lowers her eyes, not knowing how to feel. She recalls Edifier Five – the cruellest of Edifiers – gently massaging her cramped hands. Those kindly features that seemed so ill-fitted upon her usually expressionless face. The hesitation and guilt that wavered in her Edifier’s eyes.
And she recalls how Edifier Five became the only source of warmth in the blizzard of her childhood. The single comfort she could return to, after hacking and slashing her way through the living dead. Leaving nothing behind but rapidly cooling reminders of the Mother’s ruthless will.
Amongst the endless days of death, Edifier Five was her saving grace.
Mira can’t stop the tremours in her hands, no matter how hard she clenches them. “…Why did you leave me?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Unnaturally vulnerable.
Nuwa’s expression softens. A soul-deep sadness overcomes her and pours from her gaze. “If I had stayed, you would not have retained yourself.”
“Why didn’t you take me with you?”
The ex-Edifier glances away, heavy with guilt. “…You were heavily wounded and I could not move you.”
“You could have come back for me.”
“By then, you were already out of my reach.”
“Coward.”
The single word strikes Nuwa like a physical blow, but she takes the pain willingly. Eagerly, even. This is the long-awaited punishment she had been impatiently looking forward to. “Yes,” she says, quietly. “Undoubtedly so.”
The light dims in Mira’s eyes.
A crippling pain inches up Nuwa’s throat, tightening her airways. “I am a coward,” she repeats. “But I never stopped caring for you.”
Seeing the younger woman unmoved, Nuwa elaborates, implores, hoping to see life return to those dead eyes. “I watched you grow. Had my animals on you for all these years. And I tried to keep you safe, every single day. You never went into battle alone. I was there the entire time, fighting alongside you.” Boldly, the witch reaches for Mira’s hands. Her bony fingers graze the leather gloves, but dare not proceed further. “I never left you, Mira.”
Outside, the trees creak and sway in a sudden gust. Scattered leaves rain against the thin windows. In the moonlight, Mira can see the swaying boughs and she remembers her young master’s warning.
Gently swinging from a bough in the Hanging Tree.
The unrest within dies like the hurricanic winds in the eye of the storm – a sudden tranquility, despite the chaos raging in all directions.
Her death foretold may be her fate after all. Edifier Five – no, Nuwa – is a traitor to the crown. And from her clear enmity against the Empire, it is clear that she had joined the Otsuki devils. If she lets Nuwa live, isn’t this the same as committing treason herself?
It’s Nuwa, who has her hanged. And if she hangs, she would be abandoning her young master. Abandoning everything she had created for herself, including her name.
Mira is the extension of her young lord. She could never do to Jun what Nuwa did to her.
History will not repeat itself.
“Your care is unwanted and in vain,” Mira says, coldly. “What use do I have for a rebel’s support? Fighting alongside me is the same as condemning me to death.”
Nuwa frowns, a flicker of hurt in her gaze. But she quickly dons her placid mask. “I never said I was a rebel.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Do you believe that the Immaculate should continue? That generations of children should be stripped of their selfhood and broken down until all they know is to wield their blade?”
“Where are the rebels located in Hanjuyang? What are their plans?”
“Do you think the Empire has done right by you? Have they given you the life you deserve?”
“What is the identity of the Faceless Devil?”
“Will you be able to die with no regrets?”
“Who is the general of the Hare Army?”
“Have you ever known happiness?”
“What is your role in the rebellion?”
“Do you want to live?”
Mira slams her poisoned blade into the table. The handle judders from the impact.
Both women stare at each other, breathing heavily. The tension so thick, one could hardly function in the oppressive brume of it.
The Nix’s glare flashes like moonlight glancing off a blade. Every inch of her is cruel edge. She is the fine weapon carefully whetted by the one sitting across from her.
Pale lips curl into a hollow smile. Behind those black eyes, there is nothing.
“I do want to live, which is why I must arrest you.”
Nuwa intakes sharply. She regards the broken woman before her with a modicum of pity – and no endless amount of guilt. “You don’t have to do this anymore,” she says, tenderly. “You don’t have to kill to live.”
Mira’s jaw pulses once. “You are a traitor and a terrorist. If you do not cooperate with me, then I will also set my sights on your people. Bo, you called her. And of course, the Rat. From my observations, you are both very close. Is he your new Nix? Are you his Edifier?”
“You needn’t drag them into this. If you are in need of protection, I can keep you safe. You know about my animals. You know I am strong.”
“How can I trust you?”
“I have kept you safe for twenty years. And I can keep you safe for twenty more – and beyond.”
“No,” Mira bites. “The longer you stay alive, the more likely my death is. You will come with me and cease your cowardly bartering.”
Nuwa’s eyes widen.
Unbeknownst to both women, they share a memory of the Rat’s vision. An impending death that neither are willing to see manifest into reality.
Is this what Nuwa must do to find true atonement? Return Mira’s life by sacrificing her own?
If so, what parent would not leap at the chance to protect their child in this way?
“…I will come with you,” Nuwa says, bowing her head in submission. She doesn’t see how Mira’s expression crumbles. How her lips whiten and despair drains her complexion. She doesn’t see how Mira desperately struggles to hold back her rising pain. The rage and confusion. The questions and vitriol and regrets that swell and lurch behind clenched teeth.
Nuwa doesn’t know just how badly Mira wishes she could take back her words. If only she could rewind time and pretend she never recognised her Edifier. They could continue to live as they had, on separate yet parallel paths. Never once interacting but moving in the same direction.
Wasn’t that better than losing this person in this lifetime?
Mira ruthlessly quashes her emotions and rises to her feet. She pulls up her mask. Yanks her blade from the table and pulls out a length of rope from her pouch.
Nuwa stands and obediently holds out her hands.
As Mira winds the rope around those frail wrists, the vital organ in her chest quietly breaks.
***
When Solaris reaches the apex in the brilliant blue firmament, a gut-wrenching wail can be heard from every household in the Slums.
At the base of the Hanging Tree, a giant figure falls to her knees. She keens like a wounded animal and beats the frozen ground until her fists are bloodied. Cold tears stream down her cheeks as she’s wracked with unimaginable pain. Her agonised voice draws a silent crowd, who gathers around the tragic sight with grey faces.
A wintry wind currents through the black branches. Rope creaks. The body sways.
Bo blindly grasps her dearest friend’s feet. They are bare and bloodied, lashed cruelly across the soles. She sobs like a child, seeing that torn flesh, and she rips a strip of cloth from her cloak to shakily dress the ice encrusted wounds.
A tanto blade spins through the air and cuts through the rope. The body falls quietly from its height and lands in the giantess’ arms.
Rin approaches Bo, white-faced, unspeaking. He holds the woman’s shoulder as she hunches over Nuwa’s stiff form, weeping inconsolably and stroking her snow frosted hair. He stands there for as long as Bo kneels, unwilling to leave her side.
Nuwa stares at the sky with lifeless eyes. A hint of a smile, tender and forgiving, preserved upon her face forevermore.
Nuwa QAQ and Mira QAQ
After all of this pain i request some kind of modern fluffy AU extra or something ;-;
Thank you for the chapter!! <3
Fluff is coming!!!!!! Thank you for reading ^3^ <33
… ya know i kinda liked you mira
But if rin learn of this istg you will end up like in his vision
ONE OF THE ONLY PERSON WHO REALLY CARED FOR HIM
ONION NINJAS ARE BACK GDI
IM SORRY TTUTT
And yeah…Mira is erm….she better not get caught lol