So, I was re-reading some stuff and saw that Natsuki was a Leo. "How coincidental!" I thought, "So am I!" Upon further investigation, I discovered that not only are we both Leos, we share the same birthday. No joke. That made me almost as happy as when I found out that Napoleon Bonaparte and I ALSO share the same birthday.
Needless to say, I feel awesome.
Moving along! My dear Crosswood won the little challenge I put at the end of the last chapter. The old hag in the Artemisian Seal is, in fact, one of the Keres (or "Ker" for singular). These are Greek death deities that haunted battlefields, snatched souls into Hades, and enjoyed nothing more than to feast upon the blood of the fallen.
Now I just have to think of a prize for Crossy...Hmm...Decisions, decisions...
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: MaiHIME is not mine.
Books of every colour, texture and variety filed all along the towering walls, walls lined with long French windows that allowed in faux sunlight. Phaesporia was, ironically like its vampiric counterparts, situated underground so as not to attract attention. What lay on the outside, however, was not Shizuru's present concern. Gliding into the room, she admired the many tomes both antiquated and contemporary. There lingered in the air that certain mustiness, the downy coverlet of dust over preserved pages, that cool smell of knowledge hoarded with draconian fervour. Shizuru had seen the magnificent libraries of Constantinople, of Vienna and Antioch, but in regard to sheer size and volume, the Artemisian Library outstripped them all by far.
Lustrous oak encased the numerous books and in some older cases thick glass protected its contents. Thickly carved staircases wound their way upward like broad vines to every floor and even to the very ceiling where an ambulatory rim ran along its edge. Decorative pillars beneath the high walkway were caryatids in the form of the ten Sibyls of antiquity, facades alternately calm and swept into ecstatic frenzy (1). A painted fresco, well-lit, warmed the ceiling and further opened the room as though to the heavens. There, a strange and ethereal scene unfolded. The creation of the universe and its primordial entities bestrew the artistic space allotted. Aether and Hemera enfolded all in a saffron shroud through which Nemesis and Moros contested and Epiphron looked on with cunning calculation. Wailing Deceit and raving Strife clawed their faces and rent their flowing dresses in nameless lamentation. The laughter-loving Hesperides tended their wond'rous crops and danced among their lush garden of immortal pleasures. The three Erinyes hissed and spat from the sides, cursing and railing against their bonds, wishing to ravage the world of men once more. Not many Keres, but a single Ker was awash with blood, feasting mournfully upon fistfuls of souls, bloodied gaze rolling in exquisite agony, lay across the steps of a tall dais which led upward to a dark throne.
Held aloft by three women - impassive Moirae spinning, measuring, cutting, utterly absorbed in their task, their duty - the very legs of the royal seat, was a figure wrapped in a black toga. It was hunched over, one arm at its waist, the other slung across a thigh so that its white, delicate hand hung over its knee. Dark eyes glinted from beneath be-shadowed brows, ignoring the chaos milling about it and instead fixed upon any who walked beneath, level and weighing like a set of wrought-iron scales. It was the goddess Night, Nyx, mother of all. Two cherubims clung to her skirts, Eros and Thanatos, and behind her loomed her omnipresent caretaker: scythe-wielding Chronos. (2)
Shizuru looked away and continued her search.
Aside from the smell of books another familiar scent threaded its way through the air. She had followed it directly to this place and, sure enough, she could see a dark head bowed over a book upon the second floor. Eyes fixed upon the back of Natsuki's head, Shizuru quickly ascended the first flight of stairs to her right, keeping her pace normal enough for her "escort" to follow. If she were to have it her way, they would have waited outside so she could stealthily sneak up behind the girl (she so dearly wanted to see her reaction to such an approach), but instead they clamoured up the steps behind her, alerting Natsuki to her presence.
Seeing Shizuru, Natsuki snapped the book in her hands shut with alacrity and tried to hide it from view behind her jean-clad thigh. Shizuru may not have personally approached of pants and the very modern idea of women wearing them, but in this case she was willing to make an exception. The faded gray denim clung to her shapely legs, accentuating their length and muscled slenderness. A thin line of smooth skin peeked from between the low-slung waistline, the blue t-shirt and loose, white hoodie.
"Hello, Shizuru."
Ah! That voice! Perhaps she had merely been cooped-up too long in her grave, but that smoky voice did wonders to her body, "Good evening, Natsuki," she greeted in return, not stopping her steady advance, "What brings you to this wonderful library?"
"Nothing, really," Natsuki shifted, trying to further conceal the book, "I just wanted a few books to read later tonight. Before bed. I've been pretty bored all day, so..." she shrugged, giving Shizuru a sheepish smile, "Purely for entertainment purposes."
Stopping right in front of her, perhaps only two feet apart, Shizuru said, "Well, if Natsuki was so wrapped up in ennui she should have come to see me. I would have been more than happy to keep her company."
Confusion flitted across her face, "Mai told me you were sleeping during the day."
"Oh! So Natsuki was asking after me, was she?" Shizuru delighted in the blush her commend caused, flushing the girl's face, fast and fierce.
"N-No!" She blurt out defensively, "Th-That's not what I meant!"
Chuckling, Shizuru leaned gracefully upon the wooden banister, the sleeve of her red chiton falling over the crook of one elbow, "Next time, you needn't bother asking. My doors are open to you. Always."
"But-"
"I don't sleep. I haven't been able to do so properly since I became what I am," She tilted her head, appraising the dark circles beneath green eyes, "And neither it seems, did you last night."
Natsuki rubbed one of her eyes at the attention, slightly nervous at that piercing stare, "Yea, well...I can't sleep well in new places."
"What are you reading?" Switching the topic quickly, Shizuru intentionally caught her off guard and watched as she tried to conceal the fact that she was holding a book.
"What? Oh! Oh, you mean this?" She stuffed the book atop one of the many rows behind her as if hoping that would deter Shizuru from inquiring any further, "It's nothing."
Not bothering to press her further, Shizuru dashed forward. She could have easily gone around Natsuki, but where would be the fun in that? Instead, she reached past her, reveling in the closeness her actions caused. From here, she could feel the sharp intake of breath upon her cheek, see the tiny vessels at the corners of those emerald eyes. Snatching the book up before Natsuki could protest, she stepped back only far enough to put her guards at ease, who had raised their guns at her sudden movements.
"Forgive me," she apologized, perhaps a tad dryly, to them and turned her attention back to Natsuki, "Now, let's see what Natsuki has been trying so hard to hide from me, shall we?"
With a wicked smile, she brandished the book and opened it. The spine creaked as it fell open and the limp pages seemed to collapse upon themselves. That scarlet gaze darted across the page and Shizuru couldn't help but widen her smile. Oh, she was going to enjoy this! The situation was even more perfect than she could have imagined.
The book was a compilation and translation of the original Latin texts surrounding her very own trial and supposed "execution". She remembered it well: the ineffectual court filled with puerile personages, the slather of mortar as she was walled into her own tower, the only small window sealed shut, the orders her human guards had received to slide food through the small opening to her until the plate was no longer returned. Four years. Four miserable years she had lasted in such a condition until Haruka had finally come for her. She had nearly gone mad in that space of time; the swirling echoes of madness haunted her still, upon occasion, when all others had gone and she was left to her own painfully lonesome devices. Like the night before. (3)
But that was then. And this was now. And now, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Time to forget the past, if only for a few brief minutes.
"If Natsuki wanted to know more about me," Shizuru purred, thrilled, "Then she need only ask."
The blush returned three-fold and Natsuki crossed her arms with a small huff, looking away and scowling, "I thought you didn't like 'revealing information to petty mortals', or something of the sort."
"True," Shizuru shut the tome and tapped it against her chin in a thoughtful manner, "But then you made it into a game," she shot Natsuki a smouldering look that had felled more suitors and prudish maidens in the past than she could count, "And I love games."
Instead of the response she had been expecting, however, Natsuki sneered caustically, "I suppose I should've known. Is that all I am to you? A game?"
Shizuru, rather than be taken aback and allow Natsuki to gain the advantage in their exchange, put on a facade of false sobriety, "Of course not. You are far from a game to me, Natsuki. Although..." she leaned in closer and whispered suggestively, "There are many games I'd love to play with you."
At the resultant blush, a brilliant burst of flaming red that washed all the way down Natsuki's neck and even tinged her ears a shining pink, Shizuru couldn't contain herself any longer.
She laughed.
Mai stormed through the steel and chrome halls of Phaesporia. The blue and silver Artemisian Seal flashed from every automatic doorway. Stripes of blue and black ran all along the walls, marking in large white block letters the various sectors. Phaesporia bustled with people, as was only typical. People in armour. People in suits. People in lab coats. People in work-out clothes, still sweaty from recent exertions in the gyms. Each bore different colours with their sunburst insigniae, dictating their rank. Many snapped to attention as she strode by, but she ignored them. One person who should have saluted instead wound lazily through the crowd, red hair blazing almost as brightly as the lit cigarette hanging from her lips.
"Put out the cigarette, Nao."
The Operative exhaled as she passed, saying, "Blow me, Tokiha."
It was a near daily ritual they indulged in. The only person who dared to face Nao's wrath when it came to her smoking habits was Midori. Mai had long since given up actually trying to get the Operative to stop smoking in unauthorized areas, though she still said the words for good measure. The day Nao actually listened, though, was the day the Apocalypse was sure to come. In such a way they passed one another and kept on their own separate courses.
Viola.
Teeth gritting, Mai continued. Damn Midori. She better not be right. Damn Viola. Where the hell did she go? If she so much as touches Natsuki- No. If she so much as looks at her askance, I'll pull out my gun and shoot her in her non-existent, shriveled black heart. I'll - !
Still searching, she passed a large door labeled, "SECTOR VI". Freezing, Mai turned slowly. Hadn't Natsuki asked about the library earlier that day? They had eaten breakfast together, Natsuki still a bit sore from Mai's "betrayal" though she had lightened up significantly since the night before - nothing had been thrown, so Mai counted it as a success - and afterwards Natsuki had asked about books. Could she still be wandering around the library? God knows the girl spent enough time around books and old artifacts to put a researcher to shame. Maybe...
Mai backtracked and the double doors opened to allow her into the stunning library. Even if reading wasn't her thing, so to speak, she could still appreciate the artistry involved in the construction of the library - one of the few places that didn't feel cold and razor-sharp in the modern facilities of Phaesporia. Laughter, full and deep, issued from the second level to her right. Orange bangs brushed against her forehead as she whipped her gaze around and her lilac eyes widened.
She had seen Viola smile dangerously before, she'd heard her chuckle darkly, but never before had she seen Viola laughing. Laughing with such ease, such warmth. Head tossed slightly back, eyes closed, wrist turned so that the book she held rested gracefully upon her shoulder. Just as surprising was the person with whom she was speaking. Natsuki was red-faced and stammering, waving her fists in outrage as though she were going to hit Viola.
Natsuki.
Blushing.
And more. Stammering.
She had never seen her friend in such an obviously agitated state. This was a side of Natsuki she had never seen before. Normally, the university student was cool, mostly monosyllabic. Her display of fury the night before had raged like an ice-storm, as though a blizzard had issued from her frosty, evergreen eyes. Her words could have put out blazing infernos that ravaged the country-sides. Even in her frequent denials of those who pursued her she was never so...flustered. And now...Now she quite literally radiated heat.
Mai did not approve.
Starting forward, she swept up the stairs and as she approached, she heard the turn in their conversation.
"Now, now, Natsuki," Viola's voice was a seductive murmur after her laughter, "On to more serious matters."
"What...?" Natsuki queried cautiously, cheeks still tinged a rosy pink, not meeting the other woman's gaze.
"Have you bathed yet?"
Dark brows slanted down in a frown, "No. Why?"
Mai could hear the provocative grin in Viola's tone, "Well, seeing as how you helped me bathe the other day, I thought I might return the favour."
"Wh-What?" The stutter had returned, fully fledged alongside her furious blush.
Viola moved in closer for the kill, "Come now, Natsuki. I could wash your back..."
"Sh-Shizuru!"
Mai had had enough, "Natsuki!" she called, stomping forward. The nine guards snapped to attention as they suddenly noticed her presence. Viola slowly turned, face an impassive mask once more, though she did not look the least bit surprised to see Mai there. Damn monster probably heard me coming a mile away... "Dinner. Let's go."
Nodding, Natsuki looked relieved to be getting away, yet as she passed Viola her forest-green eyes darted in Shizuru's direction almost as if before she could stop herself from doing so. Both Mai and Shizuru noticed.
"I shall call on you again tomorrow, Natsuki," Mai definitely didn't like the way Viola said her friend's name, nor the way those vermillion eyes tracked Natsuki's every step, every motion.
She merely nodded sharply in response. Mai turned to descend the stairs and Natsuki followed, only to hesitate and say over her shoulder, "Anna and Thomas."
"What's that, Natsuki?"
"The names of your children."
The Cynthian officer never thought she'd live to see Shizuru Viola, the Blood Countess, the Creature of Ecsed, look so completely unguarded, so nakedly stunned. The pain of a hundred lifetimes flashed across those sculpted features for but a moment until she managed to regain her calm composure once more. The mask had been ripped off for the second time in a single day to reveal a facet of Viola that Mai never knew could have existed. Although it was hastily donned once more, the anguish had settled in her liquid crimson gaze and would not dissipate immediately.
Shizuru cleared her throat, a soft noise, and said simply, "Thank you."
They left without another word.
As the doors to Sector VI slid shut behind them, both Mai and Natsuki were silent. They walked together towards the dining hall, engrossed in their own thoughts. Previously, Mai had concocted a vicious diatribe with which to give Natsuki a good tongue-lashing, but now she didn't have the heart to deliver it. Hell, she didn't remember half of it anymore. Something about, "What the hell were you thinking?" And, "Don't you know what she is capable of! Don't forget what she is! Not ever!"
Still, what she had witnessed rankled in her chest. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to get involved with a near-unstoppable killing-machine. If Viola made a move against Natsuki's will, then Mai would use that as an excuse to put Viola through a meat-grinder in a heartbeat. But, if Natsuki wanted it...If Natsuki was lured into initiating it...
No. Natsuki would never. But, how could she know for sure...?
They strode by Sector VII and Mai suddenly knew exactly what to do.
"Hey, Natsuki," That pale chin tilted down so she could better look at Mai, "How about we go to the shooting range tomorrow?"
A crash followed by a feral roar resounded throughout the vast, night-darkened halls.
Long shadows were cast from spindly pillars across the stone floors and aged, oak tiers and pulpits, gathering in the Gothic arches as though they were ornate, earthen nets. Musty, moth-eaten drapes, heavy and velvet, hung from the ceilings yet did not warm the space around them. All was a frigid, beige and brown wasteland of a palace. During the day, sunlight streamed through the tall windows, lighting the place up and warming it. But at night, it descended into something else entirely. A palace ruled by something malicious and unseen.
From deep within the bowels of the British Parliament the howl echoed, rebounding off of stone and antique tapestries all bearing the similar scene of St. George killing the dragon. His plated foot was stuck firm behind the curling serpent's neck, sword raised high overhead, caught in the moment of delivery. Within a low chamber, dry and dark, a broad dais bore a low-slung, heavily gilded curule chair, its feet twisted lion's heads biting globes. Female attendants, all human, lined the walls, wearing scant but sheer shifts that did nothing to conceal their obvious anatomy, hands at their sides, still and unmoving, awaiting their Lord's pleasure.
A single figure knelt before the throne. Presently, her animated twin-tailed hair lay dormant across her shoulders. She was clad in a frilly pink dress the folds of which only seemed to accentuate her girlish form, "My Lord, please see reason."
"Reason?" The man upon the gem-encrusted throne snarled, "My reason died with the three of my men in my very own city!" Even through the darkness, the many precious stones sewn into his rich attire could be seen glinting when he moved. It was enough to be considered gaudy even by the most flagrant of individuals in contemporary society, "My city! Kanzaki and Graceburt have gone too far this time!"
"My Lord, we do not know if Kanzaki and Graceburt were a part of this-"
"SILENCE!" He screamed, hurling a lavish goblet at her. It missed, clattering to the floor, but a spray of warm, fresh blood managed to spatter her shoulder and a side of her face nonetheless, "I know they are behind this! They have been scheming together for years in the East! Ever since the death of my Creator! Jealous, covetous cowards!" His voice lowered to distant mumbles, mad ramblings. He shifted upon the throne, legs swinging indecorously over one side so that his gold-studded boots glimmered.
So caught up in his tirade was he that he did not see the thinning of her lips, or the flashing of her usually amber eyes to a dim scarlet. She yearned to sink her fangs into his unworthy throat, to rend him limb from limb and scatter his pieces to the four winds, to burn this tawdry abode he had erected in the place of her true master's magnificent dwelling.
Soon, she promised herself. Soon.
For now she would do as she had done for nearly twenty-five years now: she would wait. She would wait until she could be sure that he would never rise again and she could take his place as the rightful heir of Yuuichi Tate I, Lord and King of House Árpádok.
"Shiho!" He barked, snapping his fingers at one of the female attendants. One of the young women stepped forward, hips swaying, and ascended the dais, draping herself across him, "Send envoys to Graceburt and Kanzaki." He gripped her fleshy body closer roughly, making her whimper in pain, and pushed her head back to reveal her neck, "I want to call together the Council of Three."
"Of course, my Lord."
Rising and bowing, Shiho Munakata departed to the sounds of messy feeding, the clicking of her shoes giving way to the heady gasps and painful moans upon the dais. The surrounding attendants watched and waited, heads bowed, fodder for a ravenous King.
Throat working, head tipped back, Midori gasped loudly and appreciatively as she finished her Hot-Toddy. She had mixed it with more honey than water and more whiskey than either of the other two ingredients and that suited her just fine. It had, by no means, been her first drink that night, but it would be her last. She deserved it after a day like today. At least, that was how she rationalized it. More times than she could count, people close to her had advised her to stop drinking, but she continually ignored them. It wasn't a problem, really. And she was always careful not to get out of hand in important situations or in front of her subordinates.
Usually.
Everyone has a vice, she figured, and this was hers. So what if she counted down the minutes until five o'clock, when she allowed herself to pour an ice-cold gin and tonic? So what if that was followed by a few beers, and the occasional margarita if she felt so inclined? It was her body and therefore it was her business. Until it started affecting her job, others should just keep their noses out of her private life and let her drown her past and her stress in blissful inebriation.
Shrugging out of her suit, Midori fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. She swore when one ripped and tossed the article of clothing to the base of her bed. Her room was larger than most of the rooms in Phaesporia but not excessively so. Only so much as it needed to be. She did not want to seem to flaunt her position, so she maintained her quarters so that they were only slightly more elevated than her officers. Indeed, Mai's own room had more expensive furnishings, though nothing in her quarters could top Midori's prized sculptures. They were posed in various corners, all plundered from the Parthenon. Thought to have been destroyed upon their removal from the pediments of the Parthenon, they had been, in fact, passed down the ranks of nameless aristocrats and gold-diggers and would-be archaeologists for almost two centuries. And now they were here where Midori could appreciate them as only she and other archaeology / history enthusiasts could.
Staggering, she pulled on a pair of mismatched pajamas. When she turned, however, pulling the elastic band from her hair, she yelped in surprise.
"Jesus!" she clutched at her chest, feeling her heart dancing erratically, "What did I tell you about just showing up in my room! You're supposed to give me some sort of warning, remember?"
Haruka blinked at her from the centre of the room. There she stood, measuring tool in hand as always, blonde hair tied back, rather uncharacteristically Midori thought, in a tight bun at the base of her neck. She wore a pale green dress that looked oddly like Shizuru's, but Midori drew no conclusions from that fact, "Forgive me, Midori. I have been...busy of late."
"Yea, well that makes two of us," Midori dragged her fingers through her thick, auburn locks to straighten them, but there remained a deep curve in her hair from where it had been up in its ponytail all day. She would have to shower tomorrow morning. Tonight she was just too damn tired, "What is it this time?"
"What is Shizuru's condition?"
Midori frowned, balancing unsuccessfully on one foot as she endeavored to remove one of her socks and consequently hopped awkwardly in place, "Condition? She's scaring my staff shit-less, drinking enough booze to fell a herd of cattle, demanding fine cuisine all the time and stalking Kruger at every given opportunity with blood-lust painted all over her. So, normal, I suppose."
Midori finally removed the sock and threw it in Haruka's direction. It fell just short of the woman, however, as though it had struck an invisible barrier and crumpled to the floor looking slightly charred, "Does she know of me?"
"No, no," the Cynthian leader waved the question away wearily as though she had heard it a thousand times in the past and tired of having it constantly repeated, "I told her you'd died. But she didn't believe me."
For once, Midori saw the faintest hint of emotion cross the woman's face. Haruka was grinning and her eyes held a wicked little glint, "I can't imagine she would believe that."
Eyes narrowing, the alcohol got the best of her and she snapped, "What the hell are you, anyway? And what is she, for that matter?"
Sobriety took control of Haruka once more and the smile vanished. She looked as grim and uncompromising as ever, "Your duty does not require you to know such information at this time."
"That's not an answer!"
"And it is not my duty to answer your every question," was the cool reply. Her grip tightened on the graduated mace, "You have the means to your end. Shizuru will give you aide where necessary."
Midori opened her mouth angrily to retort, but in the next instant, Haruka was gone. Swearing loudly, she stomped over to her bed. Throwing back the covers she grumbled, "Duty..." she clambered beneath the sheets, yawning and pulling the covers up to her chin, "What is it with her and duty, anyway?" Snuggling into the stuffed pillows, Midori clapped her hands and she was plunged into darkness and a hazy, drunken sleep.
(1) Ten Sibyls: In Varro's "Res Divinae" he lists the ten main Sibyls of antiquity: Cumaean, Hellespontine, Tubertine, Phrygian, Persian, Delphic, Libyan, Erythraean, Samian and Cimmerian. There were, of course, more. These were just the most widely known and accepted. Later, Christianity and Judaism would specifically add two more to parallel the number of prophets in the Judeo-Christian canon. Here, however, I have kept it more classical. So, ten it is!
(2) Chronos: Yes, yes. I know that Chronos was not actually born of Nyx. There is a reason for him being there, however, so don't get your panties in a wad just yet! I may have also left out a few other children of Night, but c'est la vie. These were the ones I wanted, and I didn't want to drone on and on and on about classical mythology, much as I love to do so :P
(3) Shizuru's sentence: This was actually the verdict for Erzsebet Bathory. They ordered for her to be locked up in a room in her tower at Csejte vára, everything completely walled up with only a slit near the floor where food was passed through. When the plate the food was passed in on no longer came back, her room was sealed shut and never opened. I believe she lasted for about 4 years in this condition, but I may be wrong. I imagine she probably went a bit mad, as well. Who wouldn't! Yikes!
Hope y'alls liked it! Thanks again for your reviews!
