Somewhere, amongst the squealing of wind on cold gravestones and the shushing sound of newly sprouted weed, a mad peal of giggle echos. The broken notes skittering and dissipating in the black void, crawling underneath his skin.
Asorotany twists his neck, unconsciously clenches his teeth. A blazing blue lighting splits the sky above, and he braces himself for the roaring thunder, but that never come. Only a ground-shaking silence.
“Ho,” A voice breaks the tender yonder, the ancient tongue of the divines. “What’re thee doing h’re?”
“Gentle Unmei,” The ram turns and bows its chin an inch, however its eyes raises in a stubborn, unsubmissive manner. “We’re h’re to claimeth our apparition.”
Asorotany hastily drops to his knee, willing himself not to bewitched by Unmei. There’s a strong, invisible magnetic field around her meager figure, baiting him to glance up, to gape, to stare and behold the beauty of the Goddess.
Unmei is completely opposite to Are, the differences are bold as day and night. While Are rises to an intimidating height, sporting a snarling skull on her head and a spike-shaped feathers cloak, Unmei comes with a flowing, silky white gown that forms gentle waves in a preternatural breeze. Her long lustrous black hair is loose over her hips, wrapping around her lovely heart-shaped face, caressing her marble smooth skin. Translucent smoke is curling at her feet, shyly hides behind her back.
“Is that gent the payment Are promises?” Her small, thin lips part when she notices him, and Asorotany’s heart cannot help but skips a beat.
“Nay. Are-Jitsubutsu insists in deliv’ring the gift h’rself.”
Unmei clasps her hands and steps fully into the temple. Liquid moonlight traces over her phoenix’s eyebrows. “I doth wond'r wherefore cometh the changeth?” She murmurs as if her thought isn’t mean for other’s ears, yet he has no doubt it is mean to be heard. Unmei lifts her wide sleeve and covers a gentle smile as she chuckles at the ram’s intense silence. The smoke trails after her when she moves across the room, keeping strictly within her shadow. There’s no scent lingers after her, no roses and rotten mandarin or the dusty, chalky taste of ashes and bones. Just a chaste, oppressive air.
Unmei settles onto the broken stone throne hidden in the far back, completely out of the light reach. Her skirt bunches up around her ankles as she sets her elbows on the armsides. The wind stills, yet he can feel a subtle pushing back and forth across the atmosphere. A quiet rebel.
“Whither is he? Whithe is the apparition knave?” The ram demands.
Unmei releases a long, slow, contented sigh, raising her naked palm. “Didst thee enjoyeth the adventure?”
“He didn’t have to die.” The ram growls.
“Nay, of course, but we alloweth not the livings to communicateth with the dead as easily as the Nihongo. T's a sacr'd realms, not easily unlock'd with chicken blood and some tush tush chants.”
“Bah! Thy trait'r tongue is poisonous.”
Unmei’s lips tighten. “The situation hast hath changed.”
“Thou art only didst what thee didst out of thy sadistic instinct. Thee wanteth others to suffer, thee wanteth others to understandeth thy power and kiss thy toes to beest spare from such horr'r.”
Unmei’s narrow, bamboo-leaf shaped eyes slant dangerously. For a fraction of second he sees the malicious sneer that only seems to fit on Are’s savage mouth, but she quickly withdraws it within her cold irises. Asorotany realizes her eyes are colder than Are’s red ones. Unmei is a plume shade of ultramarine, radiant like the sea under the sun. “I hast neith'r misseth thee ‘r thy mistress’s utt’ring bluntness,” She throws her head back and laughs.
The ram cracks its jaws, its black beady eyes glint. “Please, Great Lady Unmei.” It says in a low tone. “We just come for the Dead Boy.”
Unmei tilts her chin high, her hair curling around her long swan neck. “I've changeth mine mind. I wanteth Are. I wanteth thy mistress’s crown.”
The ram snorts, revving up on its hind and slams its front hooves on the ground. The stone floor cracks, fractures runs like a broken web, dust and dirt ensue in busts. Asorotany coughs and blinks rapidly, struggling to see through the filthy cloud, almost loses his balance as the rock beneath his feet tips. But both Unmei and the ram barely bothered.
“Never,” It says in a low tone.
“‘Tis is mine landeth, mine kingdom, and she is only a passeth'rby, a forgotten queen.” Unmei spreads her palm. “And so she shall playeth to mine rules, to mine dealeth, nay?”
The ram bares its teeth, leaning its head low in a predatory pose. “Ov'r mine own dead corse.”
Unmei leans forward, displaying her unnaturally sharp canines, and crooks her index finger.
A whoo shushes from underneath their feet, swirling into stretched strands. Asorotany turns to the direction Unmei is pointing. His heart squeezes in painful throbs when he sees white, translucid shapes are crowding at the foot of the temple. He automatically steps forward, widen his eyes as he spots more and more of those ghastly shapes trudging toward the temple, passing through tree trunks and tombstones. Fresh faces mixing with decaying flesh and grinning skulls. They fold upon themselves as they murmurs to each other, devouring him with their eyes. Asorotany shivers, acutely aware of the buzzing energy of a living still humming through his veins.
“Fische Halott,” Unmei booms. And the following lilt in her voice tells Asorotany she’s smiling. “Come forward, naive knave.”
Asorotany startles, his head suddenly sliding off on one side. His knees almost crumble when he spots a familiar bronze mob of hair pushing through the crowd.
“Fische.” He rasps. “Oh my God.”
“Asoro?”
Asorotany opens his mouth and closes it, his chest collapsing into itself. His brother’s name appears inside his head, echoing, echoing, reverberating through his marrows.
“Asoro, it’s you.”
Asorotany runs out of the temple, but an invisible shield shocks him, knocking him backward. He slams his fists on the damn shield, uncaring for his now blistering, bloodied knuckles.
Unmei roars with amusement, her black hair flares like an octopus’ arms, dark smoke seeping from the corner of her clear eyes. The hem of her white gown withering away, dropping onto the floor like dead petals.
“You're a merciless creature.” The ram says.
“Only the merciless may receiveth the throne.” Unmei laughs.
A breeze whistles, tinkling, bringing a jingle of bells, sending a shiver down his back. He knows she’s here. Are’s here. She’s always somewhere, close, observing, unnerving.
“What doth thee sayeth, Are?” Unmei says.
The wind around him stirs.
The ram stomps its hooves. “No, you cannot, Are-Jitsubutsu.” It starts yelling in the ancient tongue. The wind jabs, pulsing with defensive heat.
He presses his forehead hard against the invisible barrier, desperately clinging and tuning out of the chaos erupting around him. He screws his eyes tight, breath catching in his throat. Cold pins pricking his fingertips, tearing holes inside his lungs.
The ram bellows in an accusive tone, shaking its horn and nuzzle. Unmei throws her head back and laughs. The dust flare into the air once again as the wind whiplashes and hisses and cries.
“Hie, concur to mine deal ere mine patience runneth out.” Unmei’s voice rings from the wind’s plea.
The ram snarls, leaping into the air and lands in front of Asorotany. He looks up, bewildered, and thinks with a great clarity, Hide the fuck away, yet his limbs refuse to move, frozen by the ram’s cold, disgusted look, even once it pressed a hoof on his neck. “Then I shall bite out the boy’s head, for all of your duty.” It whispers, snout flaring, crushing his windpipe. He struggles against its hold, gasping, his body slows to comprehend what is coming from his brain. Black streaks cross-hatching his vision.
The wind screams something, and everything seems to come to a stop. His heart is pounding in his ears, drowning out the silence.
Unmei leans forward on her throne, lips parting in a greedy manner. Her blue eyes sparkle. “Thou art truly the worst enemy of thy self.” She stands in a sweeping motion, rosy cheeks and lips of pride.
The ram steps off Asorotany as Unmei draws near. Unmei watches Asorotany scrambles back on his feet, smiling cruelly. What he’s actually feeling is not enchanted, it’s fear of turning away from this Goddess.
She places a hand on the small of his back—nails, curved and long and manicured, digging into his skin like hawk’s talons—and pushes him out of the temple entrance. “Thou has't till sunrise. Farewell, child.”
The ram locks eyes with him, then spits at his face. “Get the hell out of my sight, brat.” It mouths.
Unmei stifles a snigger and waves her hand.
He stares, then turns sharply on his heels and numbly stumbles down the steps, a heavy weight sinking his heart down to his feet.
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