The wind chides Asorotany and Fische along until they skid to the bottom of the slope. A steady stream has already hasting down the twisted path to the temple, pulsing with an palpable, agitated atmosphere. Asorotany can almost feel the distress shimmers and flurries across the wild grass blades, springs upon stronghold tombstones, almost like a silent siren summoning all to rise and gather.
“Are’s here!” Somebody shrieks.
“Where’s she?” Asorotany pants, bracing his hands on either sides of his throbbing abdomen, scanning the brushy horizon where all ghosts seem to be heeding. “Where is Are?”
A man whose skull was badly dented in one side suddenly turns to him with an abrupt, sharp motion that makes him jumps. “The Lady is at the gate.”
Fische nods and motions at a broad figure dashing across the grassland in jerky hopping motion. “Yasashi.” Fische says. Waves of wind washes across, billowing their clothes, almost uprooting them. An ear-wretching wail pierces through the night.
Asorotany clenches his jaws and springs past Fische. The two of them bypass the mainstream and run through the flank of the lines. They stumble upon etheral blue-white, diaphanous limbs and body parts wiggling out from the earth, and Fische shoves Asorotany ahead to keep him from hissing in disgust, Fische’s broad and sturdy palm sends heat from the place between his shoulder blades.
The gate looms above the horizon, and something in his steps urges him to go faster. Hush and low murmurs rise and fall like tides, getting louder and clearer. Asorotany hesitates for a second, before diving in the crowd, forcing his way through the mass of ghouls. Lips and hips and limbs grind against his body, suffocating him, each contact sends a numb shot through his body, and he has to cling to the strong magnetic pull to stay afloat and not sweep away by the current.
Are, Are, I call for you. Come, aid me at the brink of death. Are, Are, Are, I shall give you the most precious object in my life in return. The languid, shapeless words finally becomes comprehendable to his ears. It sounds like a mantra. Or, perhaps, more like crazed, guileless devoted greed.
He jerks his head, tiptoes, trying to be higher than the general height. “Are,” He shouts, gasping for breath. His voice racquets off the husky, dead hailings. “Are.” He can only catch a flash of her bare-bone white snarling skull before getting drown again.
Someone grabs his sides and pushes him forward. “C’mon,” Fische says. “Why did you call for her?” He asks, although he doesn’t seem to care for the answer. Using his elbows, he fends off a nearby female half-rotten skeleton.
“I don’t want her to agree to the bargain.” Asorotany says anyway, and he repeats louder to make sure Fische heard him. “She’s giving up something important because of you.”
“What?” Fische yells over his shoulder.
Asorotany shakes his head since they’re near the edge of the throng already. His breath hitches. He doesn’t need to rescan the ground because Are is there, tall and majestic and dominating like Death itself. Her black fur cloak spikes around her figure, billowing in solemn curves. The ram skull’s horns curl maliciously, casting a faint gray-wash glowing hue in the darkness. Her arms hang by her sides, and her feet are wide apart, but the slope of her shoulders are rigid with tension.
“Are.” Asorotany says. A thunderclap booms. Darkness bends around her, emphasizes Are’s solid outlines, making her more like a statue carve out of stones than bones and flesh. The wind tightens, and he can almost see the current circling into a typhoon shape.
“Asoro,” Fische snaps.
As soon as his name left Fische’s lips, a massive ball of energy crashes down from the sky. It’s almost impossible, but the earth yanks under his feet, as if it’s racing toward the mass. Lightning bolts shoot out from the ground, lighting white fire to the air. His head suddenly grows heavy and sluggish, renders the motion around him in slow-moving blurs. Fische’s mouth is open, round like a perfect O, but the syllables stretch, distorted into funny extraterritorial sounds. Fische loops an arm around his neck and topples on top of his body, and then they both falling, and he can feel Fische’s weight on him, his gentle warmth protecting him.
But the moment they hit the earth, the impact shocks him back to reality. Time speeds up, and he is suddenly tossed in a chaos. Soles tramples upon him. His nape is wet and slick, and so is his hair, and he realizes a sprinkle has started dampening the landscape.
“You OK?” Fische pants.
“Are you an idiot?” A ghoul hisses at them, grabbing Fische’s elbow, yanking both of them up and urges both of them behind a grave.
The mass rises from the ashen surrounding. Flames, dirt and rocks scatter in the whirlwind, and Asorotany shields his eyes, squinting. “Are-Jitsubutsu,” An barbarical roar shakes the world. “Turn around. Go back. Think this clean through. You’re a fool to sacrifice all of this for an suicidal idiot.”
Are takes one step forward, bringing a hell of her own. Her voice cuts clean through the chaos. “I only need you to trust me on this.”
Yasashi regards her. “What’s it a mere boy that would make you give up your fate?”
“It is not my fate.” Are says sharply. The wind beats stronger and stronger, breaking off trees branches and structure. The whole world begins to convulse to Are’s words. “I was shoved into this. To fight on battles, to slaughter men and women and children, to watch your kingdom thrived and demolish, to murder your own family for the sake of proving loyalty. I died, I sacrificed, all because of necessity and duty. When I died, I did not ask to be immortal. I did not ask to represent my enemy nation. And yet, here I am. Hundreds of years afterward. I’ve fulfilled my fate.”
He expects Yasashi to back down, or try a calmer tatic. Instead, peals of lighting and thunder pour down like a bombardment. “Even if you give up the crown, you won’t die. Even if you give up the power, you will continue to collect souls and obligate to the duty as a Death God. It’s set in stone, Are-Jitsubutsu, you cannot erase or escape. You, I and Are-Nisemono will suffer. Think. How can you give up your power so easily?”
“I won’t. Let’s say I only want to take a break.”
“A break!” Yasashi guffaws. “You’ve borned and died in a wash of power. You’re power-addicted. To give up, or to take a break or whatever you want to put it, only for a day and you’ll drive yourself insane.” Yasashi bounces, about to continue when it suddenly gags. A spherical forcefield encases the ram, electric buzzing. Yasashi thrashes, banging his hoof against the forcefield, anger gives way to panic, it muzzle swings wildly, teeth flashing but only a muffled sound is audible. A sharp pitch pierces his ears, forcing him to clutch his head. Trees and bushes crackle, murder of crows take off from various directions.
“Are-Yasashi.” Are yells. Then, quickly, she clasps her hands together in a series of strange gestures, muttering something under her breath.
Yasashi hisses, opens his throat wide but no sound comes out, suddenly moves in a jerky, uncertain movement. As if he’s acutely aware of his skin and flesh and bone fit together in the wrong way.
It has only been a tiny glitch, almost makes Asorotany doubts his own sight.
“My, my,” A light-hearted giggle echos. The forcefield mimics the beating of a heart, suppressing the elements Are and Yasashi have summoned. “I’ve forgotten the tradition way of a Nihongo would welcome a guest.” Unmei emerges at the lowest step of the temple, unhurriedly stroll across the cemetery ground. Flat stones appear atop the dirt trail, paving the way for her. The weeds appear to recoil from her. Her dress flows in extravagant gestures, and this time when he stares at her face, his stomach churns and knots in a cold, hard tangle.
Are clenches her jaws, bristles, before reluctantly moves forward, her cloak trawls behind her. She swipes her palms and the weather immediately halts to a maddening silence. Even without the ram skull, Are’s height is at least twice Unmei’s and radiating thrice much the intimidation aura. Are’s bells tinkle as she bends, and unconsciously he gasps when Are kneels on one knee, because the scene itself is so absurd and ridiculous. It should be all the way around. He glances at the gathering souls who’s now popping out again, and they seems to feign the same shocked expression as him. “Unmei-Gōngzhǔ. Please pardon my rude intrusion.”
Unmei laughs, extending her hand, her curled fingernails gleam. “Gōngzhǔ? Kneeling? Even the Chinese tongue.” Are stares at the Unmei’s pale, slender hand, before gingerly places a kiss on Unmei’s knuckle.
“What are you doing, Are?” Both Unmei and Are jolt. He hears his name hissing somewhere behind him, and it’s not until Fische’s hand roughly covers his mouth and yanks him back down that he realizes he was the one who shouted.
“What the fuck?” Fische hisses in his ears. “Are you asking for a death wish? Unmei can claim your soul, and she fucking will.” Asorotany bucks.
“Ah, what an energetic boy.” Unmei jeers. “I haven’t see an enthusiastic supporter of yours for so long.”
Asorotany’s nostrils flare. While Are calmly turns to where Fische and Asorotany are crouching and beckons them forward. Asorotany breaks off Fische’s protective hold and trudges forward, squaring his shoulders at Unmei.
Are straightens and puts a hand on the small of his back, but pulls back as she nods at Fische.
Unmei gives a tight-lip smile and gestures back at the temple. “This way, Kèrén. I hope you like black tea.”
Are tips her chin down, but when Asorotany peers up from his lashes he can see Are is returning the same leer. “First, though, I’d like to have my familiar to bow and apologize to you for his crudeness.”
Unmei flicks her fingers. The spherical forcefield pops, and Yasashi is hurled face-first to the ground unceremoniously in front of Unmei. Asorotany lurches, breath knocking out of his ribs, as if the impact also throws him sideway.
The black ram sputters, its knees are shaking visibly. Unmei throws her head back, shoulders shaking in amusement as she watches the black ram struggles. She lifts her foot, as though about to press it on Yasashi’s head.
“Well, if you will express your regret in this pitiful position, perhaps I’ll consider forgive your previous brash behaviour.”
A flash of its teeth, a blink and the animal is lounging for Unmei’s neck, jaws snapping, hooves dragging dirt over the vast length of smooth white silk. Unmei topples, swinging her arm to protect her face, yelling obscenities as the ram’s blunt teeth clamps down on her delicate arm, spits and black-red matters dripping from his red gum filth the goddess’s pearly flesh.
The souls nearby spring up, but instead of calling out in alarm, they are all cheering Yasashi on.
“Get off, you foul hag.” Unmei screeches. The combined weight of hers and Yasashi caused her to lost balance and falls backward. The paved path as the forcefield flickers and disappears in a blink, and then there’s only Unmei and the ram tumbling and rolling across the dirty sacred ground. Unmei became undone. Her hair flailing helplessly, at some point wounds itself across her throat, choking her. The mud opens its arms, greedily devours the chasten of Unmei’s dress and the goddess herself.
The previous sharp pitch punctures through the night again, this time with more intensity. Asorotany flinches, crouches down, however Are seems to stand even taller than before, sneering as the storm of fire and thunder cries back to life. The pitch rises and falls, fading into an itchy background noise that he cannot ignores and can endure.
Unmei’s legs wind wildly, her uninjured arm pounds on Yasashi’s head, knees hit Yasashi’s hind, but Yasashi holds strong with a force of an animal has nothing left to lose. He wouldn’t bulge, only bites harder, stomping with more force, ripping through the dress fabric, ripping Unmei’s arm out of its socket. The screech that daggers out of Unmei’s mouth shakes the ground, echos to his core and back, but he can feel energy buzzing in his system and a strange crave for blood, can feel a stupid triumph sensation heightens his senses. Even from afar, unmerciness gleams like diamond from Yasashi’s eye pits. Asorotany thinks he has never see anything more beautiful and deadlier before. And, a small part of himself whispers, he wouldn’t mind witness a goddess’s death.
Yasashi pulls back a little, spitting at Unmei’s face, his fleece fluffs by the rain, making him extramarital yet normal against the chaotic backdrop of typhoon. He lifts his front hoof, mimics what Unmei has done earlier.
Unmei gasps as she crawls away on her side and elbow, cradling her injured arm. “Carion, lent me your cunning and ruthlessness to do the deeds I need. Lent me your power and I’ll bow under your feet.”
Are laughs, thunder and lighting hallows her voice. She dances forward until she’s beside Yasashi, their shadows impose over Unmei with a malicious ease.
“Traitor flanks with traitor.” Yasashi bites out. “Birds of the same feather.”
Are snorts softly at Unmei’s whimper. “Your lover won’t be able to come, Unmei-Gōngzhǔ.” Are drawls, and by the lilting of the syllables Asorotany knows she’s smirking. “He’s straddled somewhere with the sharks. Probably getting ripped to pieces and revived the experience for a while.”
Unmei’s eye flit about, and she giggles nervously when she bumps against one of the gravemarker. “He’ll be here.”
Are leans down, cocking her head. “Because he pledged his loyalty to you in your bed?” Unmei turns paler, biting her lower lip. The earth is now stained of her blood, yet still greedy for more. Are continues using the same lazy tone. “Because he understood your jealous for recognition than anyone? Because he made you feel a woman again, feel loved and treasured?” Are brushes her index finger on Unmei’s lip, let the pad of her thumb support Unmei’s chin, forcing the other goddess to look into her eyes, or rather at the disdain empty eyeholes of the dead ram skull. Are’s words seem to rattle Unmei to the core, and she’s shaking her head slightly, trembling like a dead leaf in harsh wind, barely hanging in there. Are leans in, the motion sharp as a blade. “Because he promised to build an empire out of the ash and bones, with you as his queen, while you suck him off?”
“Filthy lies.” Unmei sneers, but it’s already evidenced in her quivering voice. What Are said is true. Maybe not all, but partial.
“Tell me, where’s he when his beloved is trampled and half-dead?”
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