CW: Explicit language, alcohol abuse, victim blaming, violence.
FYI the date is currently 81A 49✧HE.
To interpret this, you would read it as the 81st day of Autumn in the 49th year of Empress Hino Eno’s reign.
The ✧ is shorthand for Empress (or Emperor). The four points represent the Four Territories and the star is the ruler who unifies them. Most people just shorthand it as a cross +
This makes the Mother sixty-two years old, since she took the throne when she was only thirteen.
Rin sits on the couch and opens the charred metal lockbox in his lap. A lock of hair. Three milk teeth. Frayed bracelet. And letters. Well worn letters that have been read so many times, the paper has thinned to translucency.
He takes another long swig of cheap Northern swill he can barely taste. He effuses sheer gloom, heavy and gluggy like oil. It sits upon his shoulders, weighs him down, until he’s almost hunched over. Only the hot glow of the firelight lends any colour to his monochrome visage.
Beside him, laid carefully on the couch, are the broken halves of his mother’s nameplate.
Rin sifts through the lockbox and pulls out the letters, bundled together in a neat pile. He lifts the first out of the box and, after a moment of hesitation, starts reading.
20S 39✧HE
My dear,
Our elderly friend tells me that the boy is experiencing difficulties regarding his behaviour. She suspects that he may either be possessed or haunted. You must allow our elderly friend to treat him. Ever since the incident, he has been touched by Izayoma and given the curse of sight. This is not something a child should ever be subjected to.
If you should ever have a modicum of maternal affection for the boy, then I implore you to take action.
I know your situation is dire. While you refuse to respond to any of my letters, I am yet well informed of your declining health. I sympathise with your suffering, however you have an ailing child who relies on you. In my absence, you must be the unwavering rock whom the boy can depend upon. If not you, who else does he have?
Your neighbours can only watch from afar and intercept when the situation calls for it. Do not trust that theirs are the only eyes watching the boy…
The words are well worn away here and only snatches of sentences can be read.
…refuse to respond to any of my letters, but I am well informed of your current financial situation. If you should lose the house, what will happen to your child? You must cease your neglect…
Our love was borne from dependence. I could sit here and write about how regretful I am for the state of our relationship, but…
…that you will one day find it in your heart to move on from me. I am neither the hero nor villain you are so want to make of me…
And the rest is torn away, as though Dasom had begun to rip the letter up, only to stop mid-way. Rin pauses, scanning the contents of this correspondence once more. He lingers on the section about his ‘curse of sight’ and recalls Masao confessing the source of his power. If Rin is truly the descendent of the god of the underworld, Izayoma, would that explain why he can see spirits?
He knows that once death touches someone, there is a chance of their soul becoming trapped in the imbrication of the underworld and the earthly realm. Even a spirit’s breath imprinted upon one’s soul is enough to give one the ‘curse of sight’.
But Rin’s ability is unheard of. To be so attuned to the imbrication could only be explained by his dark bloodline. A gift from his father, ignited by his mother.
How apropos.
The raven smiles coldly and takes another long swig. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and reads the second letter. The state of this one is better, lacking the deep creases and smudges of the first.
2A 41✧HE
My dear,
I am unsure if you are still reading these. But in the off-chance that you are, or perhaps the boy has taken to reading them, I shall continue to send correspondence.
I am in Ustos, a rather wealthy city in the Acasli Region. By the time you read this, we would have long-taken this city and the surrounding lands.
Our elderly friend reports that you have secluded yourself inside the house. On the contrary, the boy has been seen out in the city, throwing himself into fights and mingling with questionable characters. He is drawing too much attention to himself.
Do you remember our promise?
The beautiful, elegant script shifts here, as though the writer had paused and returned the next day to continue the letter.
Remember to see the hunter if you should require healing.
Another shift. Another day.
I am not without pain. I miss you and the boy every day. What I would not give to hold him in my arms and tell him stories until he falls asleep. What I would not give to be with you again and ease you through your illness.
I hold onto my precious memories with you and the boy. They are the only light I have in this dark and terrible world.
Ustos is a wretched place. The sky is black with smoke and all I hear are the screams and cries of dying soldiers. Those damned Imperial bastards are vicious and devious.
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.
Yesterday, a strange plague swept through our camp, causing twenty of our people to fall severely ill.
This morning, we woke to a gory sight. They had fallen upon their own swords, every inch of their skin covered in painful blisters and pustules. How much agony had they suffered, that they sought relief in death?
Apologies – this must be unpleasant to read. There is none else I can share my nightmares with. To my soldiers, my army, I must remain strong. I must remain vigilant and unwavering.
In a way, we are both fighting our own battles, and a single misstep has Empire-wide ramifications. We cannot afford to be weak. Which is why you must endeavour to recover from this illness.
I am here should you wish to share your nightmares. I await, every time I send off another missive, daring to hope that this one might be the one you finally respond to.
Me
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Ktlr ifaafg lr lcmbwqgftfcrlyif. C qjuf bo rwevufv lcx jcv kjafg rajlcr, jr atbeut la tjv yffc ifoa bea lc atf gjlc. Kjaafgfv fvufr jgf afiilcu bo tjcvr mieamtlcu bc abb alutais, vjwjulcu atf lcafuglas bo atf qjqfg.
With a nervous heart, Rin deciphers what little he can. And from the ineligible mess, he can find only a few sections that make a modicum of sense.
I was pleasantly surprised to read your…
…understand, but I could see your anguish. To answer your question, yes it was the most difficult decision I ever had to make.
However, I must attend to the war. You know who I am. You know my duty to the people. And you must also consider the boy’s future. How could he…
I confess, there was another reason for my departure.
From the moment we met, I held your heart, but you did not hold mine, for how does one give a heart one has already given to another?
For this, I am the devil.
…cannot continue the farce any longer. I had to free you from the chains of your affections. And to do that, I had to leave.
Please understand, I did this for you. Understand that everything I ever do, is for you and the boy.
My love for you both is–
CLANG!
The lockbox and its contents smash into the wall. Scatters across the ground.
Rin drops his head into his hand and hunches over his knees, unable to calm his torrid breaths. He drains the rest of his drink. Throws the bottle into the fire. Flames roar and swallow the shattered glass.
Bastard. That bastard!
What obligation and duty? The Devil abandoned them because he was having an affair! Is this why Dasom had to die? Is this why they struggled for almost a decade in the shit-strewn Slums? Masao couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and in return, Dasom and Rin had to pay the price.
The raven smiles mirthlessly as his composure cracks. Men have always sacrificed their families to pursue their own goals. But never has Rin seen a more egregious example.
Masao’s debt has grown tenfold and he has no intention of paying. Rin grabs another bottle of swill, uncorks it, and drains the potent contents in one go. He pulls himself to his feet, swaying, unsteady, already past his limits of inebriation.
His head spins. His chest burns. His blood boils so violently, he feels as though his very veins are set alight. Nothing exists in this moment aside from the core-deep bitterness with which he regards his so-called father. And he knows exactly what can hurt him.
***
That night, the Governor moves swiftly.
A troupe of Silverswords march through the Slums, sweeping the dirt-packed streets like an argent flood. Their target? The Celestial Theatre, perched on the edge of the Entertainment Strip, dead and dark as though abandoned.
As soon as the Silverswords forcibly enter the premises however, a sweet smoke fills the theatre. In seconds, every intruder drops to the floor unconscious. The clangs of their swords falling from their numb hands echo against the decrepit walls like wailing bells.
From the shadows, emerge dark figures wearing protective masks, to tie up and drag away their prey underground.
By morning, the Celestial Theatre is gone – along with the Silverswords sent to destroy it.
***
When Jun hears of the failed attack against the Celestial Theatre, he abandons his duties for the day and rushes to the Slums. He doesn’t find Rin at the house – but he does find evidence of a drunken, anger-fueled night which brings him a great deal of concern.
It’s with a pounding, anxious heart, that he seeks his lover out in his usual drinking hole, the Sweet Brier.
Rin’s in a state. He’s not his usual loud, brash self when he’s on a drunken bender. Instead, he’s hunched over at a single table in the corner of the tavern, away from the main revelry. He drinks blindly, aggressively, taking deep gulps from what appears to be his tenth pitcher of ale. His single eye, dark and dispassionate, are also red-rimmed, as though he’d been crying.
“You came.” The raven slurs heavily as he gives Jun a pale smile. He makes room for his little lord on the bench. “Wanna drink, handsome? I dunno what this is but…” He squints at the half-empty pitcher. “S’alright I suppose.”
Jun quickly sits beside the drunken youth and pulls out his handkerchief to wipe at his beer-stained front. “Rinnie, look at the state you are in,” he frets, brows knitted. “What ever is the matter?”
Rin giggles and pushes his face into Jun’s throat, planting a sloppy kiss upon his pearl. The lord flinches in surprise and turns red.
“You’re always so wound up. Like a fuckin’ clock. Why donchya just relax and have a bit of fun with me? Hmm?” He slams the pitcher down and drags himself into Jun’s lap, arms flung around his neck. A lusty flush touches those scarred features – but the look in his eye is far from desirous. Instead, they bear a touch of ice. And a deep desolation, like the silent ruins of a long abandoned building.
Jun grimaces and grabs Rin’s waist, holding him at bay. “The Governor sent Silverswords to take down the Celestial Theatre early this morning – and none of them have returned. The Theatre itself has disappeared.”
“Is that right?” Rin says, nonchalantly. He rears forward and licks Jun’s bottom lip.
Jun jerks his head away, grimace deepening. “Rinnie. Are you hearing me? The Governor knows about the true origins of the theatre. While I do not doubt the efficacy of the imperial umbrage, there may also be a traitor amongst your midst.”
“Hmmm. Sounds boring.” The raven attacks again, this time aiming for his little lord’s earlobe. A well placed nip flushes the entire ear red.
But Jun is unfettered. He gives the drunken lad a small shake to grasp his attention. “Someone has betrayed the rebellion, Rinnie. This could endanger you. If the Governor finds out about your parentage, or if the rebels discover that you are working with–”
Rin sighs and slaps his hands against Jun’s chest. He glares down at him. Grabs his jaw with steely fingers. Goldens spread and stare at Rin’s cold, tyrannical countenance.
The lord’s heart quakes.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Rin says flatly, tracing his thumb over Jun’s lips. “I know everything already.”
Jun’s brows jump to his hairline. “You do?” He pauses, realisation unfurling like a poisonous bloom. His cheeks blanch a shade or two. “…It’s you,” he whispers. “You are the traitor.”
Rin smiles sweetly and hums in agreement. “It’s me~” Wild laughter bursts from the raven, loose and careening. Jun startles so bad, he almost pushes his lover from his lap.
Heart thundering and cold sweat springing from his pores, the little lord silently considers Rin in a deep, austere silence. So grave is his expression, it’s as if he’d witnessed someone’s death.
But in a way, he has. Hasn’t he?
This is the man he loves. A killer. A traitor. Motivated purely by his own whims and desires. And yet Jun can see the purity in his lover’s intentions. The hurt and scars that twist his expressions of devotion. Jun can see through the mire, the grime, to the one he’s promised to wed.
Jun’s burdened by his own cursed sight, and he’s unable to let this broken man go. Not just yet.
“Oh, Rinnie.” The name falls in a sigh, weighed by sadness and disappointment. Goldens sweep the ground, linger on a spot, suddenly adverse.
The raven swallows his laughter and gnashes his teeth. “What?” he snaps, grabbing Jun’s head between his palms. He forces those goldens back. Forces them to look at him. “It’s what the bastard deserves. Actually, it’s the least he deserves. I won’t be satisfied until he’s strung up like a kite.”
“…Are you talking about your father?” Jun asks, brows furrowed. “Is this retaliation for him leaving you–”
“Leaving? He abandoned us, Jun.” Rin shivers, feeling the warmth of his inebriation drain from his body. In its place, an unending, relentless chill. “Not only that, but he left us because he was having an affair. Dropped his family to start another, I suppose. And don’t get me wrong – I don’t give a shit where his dick’s been. But that noble, selfless mask he’s got on is nothing but a lie.” He clutches the front of Jun’s shirt, swaying. The lord pulls him into his embrace, trying to warm his shivering form. “…Turns out he’s no better than the rest of us,” Rin mumbles, his voice muffled. “Turns out I was right after all.”
Jun doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. They both understand the pain of being disappointed by their so-called guardians. Guardians who have abused, dismissed, and abandoned them to the cruel realities of the world. They, the children who have been given nothing but the idea of a parent. Long elusive, a pretty dream.
“Rinnie,” Jun says hoarsely, resting his chin upon that messy raven mop. “The Governor’s contract is meaningless if he cannot find you. And this war…you can wash your hands of it once and for all.”
Rin raises his head to meet his little lord’s concerned gaze. His cheeks and nose are tinged pink. Remnants of drunken tears glisten upon his swollen waterline.
Jun suddenly finds himself unable to breathe. He swallows hard and dries Rin’s cheeks with his sleeve. “I do not need nor desire anything other than this,” he husks, kissing those plush lips ever so softly. “You are my everything.” Another kiss, just under his puffy eye. “You are my future.” Another, under the eyepatch. “You have fought your entire life. But Rinnie, I am telling you now – please hear me: You can stop.”
He draws back with a helpless smile, carding his fingers through Rin’s tangled hair. The latter closes his eye and sighs, finally relaxing. “…I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’ll–”
But the rest of his words are drowned out by a commotion on the main floor. A group of five mean looking thugs rush into the Sweet Brier, led by a rather wiry and handsome youth.
The wiry youth casts his almond eyes around the tavern, teeth bared in an anticipatory grin. When he locks eyes with probing goldens, he recognises the drunken raven sitting upon Jun’s lap. Without hesitation, he jerks his head at his group and they all make their way to the corner table.
Like starving predators, they quickly surround their prey, blocking off all routes of escape.
“A bit early for a drink, isn’t it, Rin?” the wiry youth sneers, cracking his knuckles. “Say goodbye to your Rose and come home.”
Jun stiffens in anger. He gently sets Rin down on the bench and rises to his feet, standing protectively between the thugs and his lover. Since he came to the Slums as Bijan Azar, he hadn’t brought his sword. But he did have the foresight to bring a baton, pilfered by Mira from the Silversword barracks.
“Who are you?” Jun asks, calmly. His rapidly darkening eyes expose the true temper brewing beneath that placid facade.
“Move aside,” the wiry youth frowns, waving Jun away as though he were a fly. “This is between me and my good friend. This doesn’t concern the likes of you.”
“I do believe I am currently between you and your good friend,” Jun says, inconspicuously bringing his hand to his hip. “So whatever you wish to say to him, you must relay to me first. I ask you again: who are you and what business do you have with Rin?”
“I’m not telling you anything–”
“Godsdamn Sang.”
Jun glances over his shoulder to see Rin sitting cross-legged, pitcher in hand, looking more than put out by the thugs’ presence.
“You know these people?” Jun says, startled.
“Unfortunately.” The raven shoots a glare at his ‘good friend’ Sang. “Tell the old man I ain’t coming home. I’m busy.”
“Busy drinking and messing around with pretty boys?” Sang snorts.
“Sure. Why don’t you join, Sang? You haven’t stopped drooling over my man since you walked in.”
Sang’s expression grows ugly. His gang of thugs – no, rebels, Jun realises now with alarm – tense and flex, as though preparing to fight.
“The chief isn’t pleased with you, Rin.” Sang’s almond eyes curve when he smiles, giving him an illusory amicability. “Don’t make me drag your ass through the streets. Come quietly and retain your dignity.”
“Dignity?” Rin barks a laugh before draining the pitcher dry. He smacks his lips and rocks to his feet, almost tipping the table over in the process. “You might as well drag me, Sang. I don’t have a shred of dignity to spare.”
Sang scowls in irritation. “So much for a quiet morning. Very well. Then we will have to impose.”
When he steps forward however, he’s met with the end of a baton jabbing into his chest. The little lord moves into his path, expression carved from ice.
A chill runs down Sang’s spine. Regardless, he’s not deterred. How could he, when he has five men at his disposal?
“Move aside,” Sang warns, grabbing the baton. It remains steady in the lord’s unyielding grasp. Sang narrows his eyes. “Move. Or suffer the consequences.”
“Then I suppose I shall have to suffer,” Jun says, and drives the baton into Sang’s gut.
What follows is an explosion of violence.
The little lord fends off Sang and his men to the best of ability, using the full breadth of his training to wield the baton like a sword. Unfortunately, these people are well trained, and in fact, Sang’s martial arts directly opposes his own earth-based style. Very quickly, Jun is overwhelmed, and without the long blade of his sword keeping him at distance, he’s victim to many a strike snuck through his tepid defence.
At some point, Rin’s joined in the fray, but he’s hardly able to keep on his feet. A well placed strike to the face knocks the poor raven out cold, and he slumps into Sang’s waiting arms.
Jun yells his name and lunges after him, but the five rebels skilfully beat him down to the ground, and all he can do is curl up to protect his torso and head. Through the agony of relentless kicks and stomps, the little lord watches Sang throw Rin over his shoulder and leave the tavern.
His vision blurs as he croaks his love’s name, battered hand stretched out as though he could grasp the trailing hem of Sang’s coat.
LEAVE MY BABIES ALOOOOONE
never ^3^ <3
BRUH ;-; please let them have a break my bois need rest
Thank you for the chapter!! <3
dont worry there’s fluff incoming soon ^_^ Thank you for reading! <333