Chapter Two ~ Denial of Desire
Lust stood in the middle of Lujon's study. In his state, he would have taken her anywhere in the hope of learning what she had to teach. She smirked to herself as she brushed her wet, dripping hair out of her face. Men were so easy to manipulate, especially young, naïve men who kept their nose in a book all the time. A look, a touch, and he was hers to command. She could feel his eyes on her, could almost smell his amazement that someone like her had appeared seemingly out of nowhere in this backwater village.
It was a cozy study, though the desk and chair were roughly carved, probably by a neighbor. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with more books than she had expected, and the desk was littered with notes and diagrams. A single kerosene lamp illuminated the room with a warm glow that made the pattering of the rain on the roof sound homely and comforting.
"So this is where you do your studying," Lust remarked, running a finger along the spines of the books on one shelf. "At least you've got a lot of books here." She picked a large book and thumbed through it, scanning the text. Though she had never performed a transmutation in her life – no Homunculus could – her master had made sure she knew the basics and which books to study to create a firm base of alchemic knowledge. And if Lujon had been reading books like this, it was no wonder he hadn't gotten very far. Turning up her nose slightly, she tore the book in half with a single jerk and let the loose pages cascade to the floor.
Understandably, Lujon started and yelped, "What are you doing?!"
"Most of these are worthless," she replied calmly, leafing through several more books like it and giving them the same treatment. "The first step is to acquire the correct knowledge." Then she saw a title she recognized, and set it on one side of the desk.
Disregarding Lujon's feeble attempts to gather up the fallen pages, Lust continued her purge of the room. In the end, a neat stack of five leather-bound volumes sat on the corner of the desk, and the floor was littered with ripped paper and bindings. Lujon weakly lowered himself into the chair, staring around at his precious library – which had probably taken a lifetime to procure – lying in shambles all around him.
"Read these in order," Lust said, patting the pile in satisfaction. There would be no turning back now. "And memorize every word."
Lujon meekly set to work, and Lust leaned against an empty bookcase to supervise. Now began the long, arduous part of her mission. She had to make it difficult enough that he would feel a sense of accomplishment once he reached the right point, but not so difficult he would give up halfway. He needed to be knowledgeable enough that he could pursue the Philosopher's Stone when the time came, but she would have to act before he had enough skill to detect her duplicity. It was a delicate balance, but she had had years to practice. If she and her brethren had never achieved their goal, it certainly wasn't her fault.
Suddenly Lujon slammed his fist down on the desk next to the book he was reading. "I can't do it!" he cried. "This is too hard; I just can't get my head around it. I don't understand!"
With difficulty, Lust kept from rolling her eyes. Seriously, these humans were ready to give up before they'd begun to try. But she held back the growl of frustration she longed to utter; she could already tell the gentle approach would work better with this milksop of a man. So she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him with a soft smile – the kind of smile that had never failed to make a man stare.
Sure enough, Lujon gazed up at her, his cheeks rosy in the lamp's glow. "It's okay," she said, softening her voice as well. "You can do it. You have talent – just look at how far you've come on your own. Be confident. It does wonders for a man."
Oh, how she loved the thrill of power as she quietly tied the noose tighter around his neck. A man would do anything to impress a woman, especially a woman as beautiful as she. She had observed the same thing again and again in these silly human men. If she used this soft voice with the tiniest hint of a flirt on a human, he would jump off a cliff or blow his own brains out if she asked him. But if she used it on someone like Envy, he would just laugh. Truly, they were the destined masters of-
As Lujon turned back to his work with renewed determination, as the light glittered on the lenses of his glasses, Lust saw that other man bending over her, the light shining on the rims of his glasses and reflecting off the tear trailing down his cheek. She reached for his hand, and he clasped it in hers, so tight, so warm, and she smiled because she realized that as long as they were together-
With effort, Lust returned to the present. She straightened slowly, trying not to breathe hard or give any other sign that her heart was suddenly pounding wildly against the Ouroborus tattoo on her chest. Who was that man? Where did these memories come from? And why, why did Lujon bring them to the forefront of her mind?
The days swiftly passed, and little by little Lust guided her pupil down the path that led to the Philosopher's Stone. Soon Lujon gave up his feeble tantrums about being too stupid to learn what she taught him, and she felt a measure of pride as the man's transmutations improved visibly.
And then came the day they both had dreamed of, though for vastly different reasons. Rather than having Lujon practice his transmutations in his house, Lust led him to a secluded clearing in the forest surrounding the village. Unquestioningly, Lujon followed Lust's instructions and drew a large circle on the ground.
"Right," she said when he looked up for her approval. "That will do." Then she stepped closer to him and handed him a silver ring embedded with a blood-red stone.
"Wh-What's this?" Lujon stammered, a blush rising to his cheeks.
"My gift to you." She quickly went on to explain, so he wouldn't get any funny ideas. "The Philosopher's Stone will increase your alchemic power and help you obtain the things you desire."
While Lujon slid the ring onto his index finger, gazing at it in wonder, Lust quickly snapped her hand up towards a bluebird sitting on a branch overhead. Before Lujon had time to look up, she shot a finger at the bird and killed it with one stroke. The bird fell with a small plop onto the ground. Lujon looked at it in surprise.
"Man must crawl before he walks, and walk before he flies. See if you can return this bird to the air, and then maybe you're ready to move on."
Lujon gulped, but with his goal so near, close enough to touch, he would not back down. With gentle hands, he transferred the tiny feathered body to the center of his circle and knelt at the edge, notebook in hand. As before, when he laid his hand on the circle he also began to read off one of his prayers. Incantations were unnecessary, but for Lujon they seemed to bring out all of his latent power.
"May the great Creator save this creature, and watch over him so he does not stray. The sun shall not smite him by day, nor the moon by night. No evil shall harm him. As I, a humble servant, employ the knowledge that God gave us to bring him back to life!"
Lust watched in satisfaction as the glow of the transmutation mingled with the harsh red light of the ring's stone. As the light died away, they watched the tiny bird open its bright eyes, hop upright again, chirp, and fly off.
Lujon leapt to his feet, delighted and astonished. "I did it! I actually did it!"
Lust smiled, unsurprised. The weakest alchemist in the world could do as much with a Philosopher's Stone, but she did not tell him that. "Well, what did I tell you, Lujon? I knew you had talent buried somewhere."
Then, to her surprise, Lujon rushed forward and grabbed both of her hands, squeezing them as he grinned at her. "It's all because of you. Thank you!"
Lust smiled and extricated herself gently. If she played her cards right, he would never know that the ring he wore was nothing but a fake, capable only of creating illusions. She knew that bird was lying on the forest floor as they spoke, dead as before.
And the days passed. Lujon practiced healing animals, determined to perfect his technique before he attempted healing the fossilitis victims. Lust watched, but she gave him more freedom now that the supposed Philosopher's Stone was in his possession. The villagers had accepted her presence, believing she was an alchemist who had been passing through and remained out of the kindness of her heart. Well, they all believed that except for one.
Lydia hadn't interfered with Lujon's lessons, and mostly left them alone, presumably for the good of the village. The progression of her own severe case of fossilitis soon prevented her from leaving her house most of the time. But one day, when Lust was about to slip out of the village to confer with Gluttony and Envy, who lurked in the surrounding woods, Lydia confronted her. She had to use a crutch, and bandages swathed one arm and a whole side of her face, but somehow she had managed to stumble out onto the street where Lust now waited for her.
"I-I'm not too proud," Lydia quavered. "I'll beg if I have to."
Crossing her arms disdainfully, Lust arched an eyebrow. "I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"
Tears sparkled in Lydia's one remaining eye. "Please, don't take Lujon. Don't take him away from me. Did he tell you that we're engaged, Lujon and I? We're going to be married just as soon as my fossilitis is cured."
Lust chuckled. It was like watching a bug stuck on its back, legs waving fruitlessly in the air. She wondered why, even as she pitied the silly girl, she almost...envied her. "How sweet," she crooned, thrusting such thoughts aside. "Congratulations. You'll have to invite me to the wedding; I'll be sure to catch the bouquet."
Lydia stomped her good foot. "Please, don't fool around! I'm serious; just leave us alone-"
But before she could continue her pleas, she let out a cry and clapped a hand to her other eye. She tried to hobble back inside, but her legs gave way and she collapsed, writhing, onto the street.
On the verge of just leaving her there until some other villager found her, Lust hesitated. Perhaps now was the time...yes. Decisively, Lust heaved the writhing woman into her arms and hauled her off to Lujon's house. As a Homunculus, she was much stronger than her appearance suggested, so she drew a few odd looks as she passed the villagers, all of whom had become rather subdued as the disease proliferated.
Lujon started up from the chair where he had been studying his notebook, and he rushed forward in alarm, trying to take Lydia into his own arms.
"Prepare the circle," Lust commanded, not letting go of the woman who was now lying weak and still in her grasp. "It's time."
Lujon immediately obeyed, but in the few minutes it took before Lust laid her burden down in the center, the stone-like patches of skin spread across Lydia's body at an alarming rate, crackling and hardening till she could hardly move enough to breathe. Lust retreated as Lujon knelt by the edge of the circle, and only then did she realize that several villagers had come hesitantly through the open door to watch. Well, no matter. If Lujon was to succeed, he would benefit from an audience.
"Lydia." Lujon's voice was a whisper, but everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, and it sounded loud in the stillness. "With my power, I will heal you." The look on his face was determined, intense, desperate. The perfect ingredients for a creator of the true Philosopher's Stone.
Then Lujon put both hands down on the edge of the circle, and this time he did not even look at his little notebook. He stared unblinking at Lydia's face, frozen and petrified in an expression of utmost pain. And as the circle began to glow, his voice rang out, strong and sure. "Let the disease which wracks her body in pain be forced out. Let the pure body reject the evil presence. The Lord is this woman's keeper. Watch over her, God, so that through all hours of the day and night, under sun and moon, she might be cleansed of this plague. Protect her from harm."
And when the light faded away, there lay Lydia as she had been – her skin smooth, her body unharmed, slumbering peacefully. Lujon had done it.
Word of Lujon's successful healing of Lydia spread quickly, and soon the man had his hands full performing transmutations on the infected villagers until he collapsed from exhaustion. Soon, the whole village was transformed. People who had shuffled along the streets, fearfully avoiding each other and hunching over as though bearing heavy loads, remembered what it was to laugh and be carefree. Lujon became a hero overnight; everyone looked to him with awe at how he had cured the seemingly incurable. Lust let him enjoy his short period of fame, knowing that soon the red stone would fail, the disease would return, and his only choice would be to seek the real Stone. She would tell him that he had used the only Stone she had, and watch as he turned in desperation to ancient, forbidden secrets. Anything to save his beloved village.
In this time of warmth and happiness, Lydia focused most of her time on preparing for her marriage to Lujon. She never spoke a word against Lust after she had discovered that Lust had carried her immediately to Lujon to be cured, but Lust knew she was anxious to seal her claim on the man she loved. Lust had nothing to complain about in that regard – so long as he was not distracted from his studies when the time came, Lujon could marry five girls at once for all she cared.
But apparently, that wasn't what he wanted at all. On the day appointed for the wedding, Lust tried to quietly slip away through the forest, but when she stepped out into the clearing where she had given Lujon the ring, she found the man himself standing there, as though waiting for her.
Lust slowed to a stop, staring at him. "Isn't it about time for the ceremony to start?"
"I can't do it." Lujon was breathing fast, gazing at her with fevered eyes. "Listen, I don't know how to say this, but... Alchemy isn't the only thing you've taught me. Something more important. Something I don't want to forget."
Lust frowned; she didn't like his tone. "What are you talking about?"
And suddenly, he took a few steps, closing the distance between them. His arms wrapped around her bare shoulders, and he held her close, whispering into her hair, "I want you by my side...forever."
"Forever," he murmured, clasping her hand in his as he gazed down at her. She smiled and lifted her head for a kiss. And as he bent closer, she gazed into his beautiful red eyes behind his glasses, filled with pain as though-
Lust blinked and returned to herself as she heard a twig snap nearby. She and Lujon whirled towards the source of the noise and immediately sprang apart. Lydia remained where she was for a moment, standing next to a tree at the edge of the clearing, then picked up the skirts of her long bridal gown and ran away, sobbing.
Lujon looked embarrassed and confused, glancing swiftly between Lust and Lydia's receding back.
Lust felt something twist inside her as Lydia's sobs seemed to echo in her ears, even though she was soon out of earshot. They were like whispers in the very core of her being, and as she listened to them, they grew louder and louder till they threatened to blot out the world. Like a thousand dying screams of agony. "You should go after her," she told Lujon in a hard voice, quelling the screams in her mind.
"But-"
"Go!" Lust shouted, feeling her face contort briefly into the snarl of the soulless beast she was. And even so, he hesitated before racing off after his fiancé. And in that moment, that final moment when their eyes connected for the last time, Lust realized what a dangerous position she was in. For a moment, she actually considered remaining here, forgetting the Stone and her master and their mission, because in his eyes she could see something she had unknowingly yearned for all her life. Something warm and generous and human.
So she ran instead.
xxx
But all that had happened two years ago. That fleeting moment of human intimacy was long gone. Lujon finally broke the tense silence between them as the carriage clattered and bounced over the rough path through the forest. "I'm so glad you're coming back to the village with me. I told everyone back home I was leaving to look for the Philosopher's Stone, and that was the truth. But really...I was hoping I would find you most of all."
Words left her before she could stop them, carried on the heels of her memories. "I wanted to see you too. I've had this strong feeling since I left. Like a door left unclosed."
The hope that lit his eyes brought her to her senses. She was being foolish, as foolish as any of these pathetic humans. She was like a schoolgirl dreaming of an impossible future. I am not what he thinks I am, and I never will be. That is mere fact. Nothing to lament over. She should have said nothing. Why did she speak? Even if, somewhere deep inside, she knew those words were true, there was no cause to say them.
He began again, hesitant though hope still lingered. "Can I ask you again...why did you abandon me like that? You must have known how I felt." Then his face darkened slightly and he turned to look out the window of the carriage instead. "Or did you even care at all?"
He did not know, he could not know, how that question pained her. Because she knew, in her heart of hearts, that he was right. She did not care. But oh, how she wanted to. Instead of replying, instead of cracking the mask that encased her as rigidly as fossilitis, she simply slipped the ring off Lujon's finger, replaced it with a new one using sleight of hand, and pressed it back into his palm, good as new. "You shouldn't search for all the answers, believe me," she said, smiling sadly. "You might not like what you find."
Once again, Lujon was the hero of his village. Lust watched it all with a strong sense of deja vu. She didn't know where Lydia was – maybe the disease had claimed her, maybe she moved away or married someone else and forgot all about Lujon after how he had betrayed her. But everyone else seemed delighted to see Lujon again, and after a few hours the fake Stone had given all the ailing villagers a few more hours of strength. This fake Stone was much weaker than the last; Lust wanted to be done with this place and return to her fellow Homunculi and their mission. She was wasting time.
But Lujon insisted on walking with her in the moonlight, and Lust found she could not refuse. After they had reached the outskirts of the village and were completely alone, Lujon turned to her and said, "You've saved me, and this village. Just like you did the first time."
And suddenly his arms were around her again, encasing her, smothering her with their warmth and gentleness and heavy human smell. And she was staggering across the floor, dripping in her own blood and saliva, staring around in confusion. A man covered in blood cried out, groping for her desperately even though he was far too weak to move. "Don't go! Please!"
"Do you remember it now?" Lujon murmured, his voice soft by contrast to the pleading voice in her mind. "That day...I held you, and you were happy. I know you were." One hand cradled her head, and the other pressed against the small of her back – warm, comforting pressure. "But this time it will be different," he whispered, pressing his cheek against hers. "This time...I won't let go."
And it hurt, it hurt, that he could love, that he could feel, that there was more to him than his own selfish schemes. Every time he mentioned his desire to help the people who suffered in his village, it was like being pricked with a needle, and when he smiled at Lydia it was like a slap in the face, and when he held her like this, so soft and warm and strong and safe...it was a knife. Stabbing again and again, through her chest.
Like the razor-sharp fingers now plunging through his chest and out the other side. The bestial snarl twisted her lips again as he gasped and struggled to ask her why, and she pulled her fingers back in, letting him fall to the ground. She hated him. Hated him for loving her so strongly and fiercely. For expecting her to reciprocate, when there was nothing but blood in the heart that beat steadily against the Ouroborus tattoo.
"You were my one mistake," she said coldly, staring down at his anguished face and feeling nothing nothing nothing. "Nothing more."
Lust didn't care that she had killed a man. She didn't even care that she had just jeopardized the plan they had spent months working to perfect. She turned and walked out of the village even as the screams of the infected and dying began to split the night air. No, she was not like them. She could not scream in agony. She could not die, thus she could not live. She was a Homunculus, a being created from the dead body of a human, bereft of a human soul. And yet, she felt...regret.
"Where do I come from?" she asked the silent, cold sky. "And where am I going?"
