Misguided Angel Ch 2  Hard to Explain

"…don't cry, 'cause it's all right…"

            Tomoyo stayed in attendance to Lord Eros during and after the meal.  She was grateful for the chance to eat, and demurely ate her small meal as quickly as good manners would allow.  Finishing in the same amount of time, Yukito easily ate not double Tomoyo's portion, but possibly double Tomoyo's weight; Yelan had begun to nervously relay the temple servants back to the kitchen in a constant loop.  The priestesses kept their heads down to prevent open-mouthed gaping.

            The young god thanked them graciously for the meal before wandering back into the tree-shaded temple grounds.  Tomoyo followed, but at a polite distance that kept her in sight of both the Erote and the group of Priestesses.  Her duties and lack of status kept her apart from them most of the time, and she was curious.  Although they were from her village, and her village was a small one, she had not known these girls.  Tomoyo was of the lowest status among them here, but in their village, the reverse had been true; she was from one of the wealthiest families.

            She thought that she recognized some of the faces: the lively one who wore her hair in curling pigtails; the quiet one, who had finished her meal and was now practicing her calligraphy strokes against the table cloth with dove feather; and the pretty one, with the long, wavy hair, who was meant to return to the village when she became of age to marry her older suitor.  And then there was Priestess Sakura, who Tomoyo had not seen since Sakura had left the village as a small girl.  She was Tomoyo's cousin, but their families had vied for Kythere's favor since her mother's youth, creating an animosity that kept the families, and the two cousins, apart.

            While Tomoyo was watching her cousin, Eros was watching Tomoyo.  His silver bow was notched with an arrow of gold, and he aimed it at her heart.  A smile of interest and mischief danced on his lips as he debated with himself.  Would his mother approve of this little experiment?  He decided that it did not matter -- he would please himself – and let the arrow fly.

            The arrow struck true, of course.  Being mortal, the girl did not feel it pass into her, and would only become aware of it over time.  Whether the arrow remained one of his, or became one belonging to his other self, would remain to be seen.  He raised his bow with a second arrow, aimed now at the auburn-haired priestess, but she moved out of sight, and so he returned the arrow and bow to the ether.  The stricken novice immediately followed after the priestess, her charge forgotten.

            Now unattended, Yukito strolled through the trees, enjoying the dappled sunlight.  He liked the darkness of the shadows for the contrast it provided, making the sunlight stand out in glowing shafts, like a volley of arrows raining through the lonely gloom.  Flowers like tiny white bells sprung up among the trees, where the cool shade kept the more delicate, sun-loving wildflowers out in the grassy field beyond the trees' edge.  The Erote picked a handful of the snowdrops as he walked and gathered a small bouquet in his hands.  Their scent was as light as their color.

            Among the trees' tall shadows, another shadow stood.  He leaned casually against a trunk.  Yukito was startled to see a man here, but as he stepped closer, he saw that the watcher was no more a mortal than Yukito himself was.  The stranger's power was evident in his brooding, dark eyes, despite those shining eyes being hidden by unruly strands of thick black hair, and it drew Yukito to him.

            "You are a god," said the Erote, questioning.

            "I am," replied the stranger with a smirk.

            "Then how is it that I don't know you?" Yukito asked.

            The stranger straightened and walked with casual slowness toward the Erote.  "But I know you," he said seductively.  He continued to close the distance between them until he was standing close enough to touch; since he was a head taller than Yukito, Yukito had to tip his head back to look into the other man's face.  "You may call me Touya," the stranger said languidly.

            "To-ya," repeated Yukito breathlessly.

            The dark-eyed god laughed softly.  "You look lost," he continued lightly.  "Are you alone?"

            It was Yukito's turn to laugh.  "Not really, no," he said.  "There is a little temple girl watching me… well, she is supposed to be watching me," he ammended with a smile.  "But I gave her something else to think about."

            Touya stepped more closely forward, and Yukito flirtatiously retreated backward, until his retreat was blocked by a tree trunk at his back.  Touya placed a palm against the bark and leaned down to look into Yukito's eyes.  "I could give you something else to think about, too," he whispered.  "My chariot is waiting… want to go to my place?  I could… show you… my etchings."

. . .

            Priestess Sakura noticed that a figure in white was following her like an echo, and stopped and doubled-back until she was standing face to face with the other girl.  The novice looked at Sakura with sparkling eyes full of wordless adoration.  "Ah… Tomoyo," the priestess said nervously, "should you be following me around like this?"

            Tomoyo clasped her hands to her chest.  "But you are so very wonderful!" she exclaimed.

            Sakura giggled with awkwardness.  "But then… who is with Lord Eros?" she asked.

            "Lord Eros…" Tomoyo said, as if she could not comprehend the words.  She blinked, looking at Sakura silently.  Then her eyes slowly widened, and covering her gasp with both hands, she turned and ran back to where she had left her duty behind.

            Sakura ran after the other girl.  Her behavior had been so strange, and Sakura had a bad feeling.  They ran through the brightly sunlit meadow; Tomoyo was heading for the shadowed grove.  When their path took them into the darkness under the trees, they had to stop for breath and to let their eyes readjust to the lack of light.

            "Where is he?" panted Tomoyo with fear in her voice.

            Priestess Sakura looked around.  She rested her staff against a tree trunk while she inspected the grounds.  She found a trail of snowdrop flowers, strewn carelessly in the dry leaves and dirt, in an area marked by the long, thin grooves of... tire tracks?  They ended suddenly, and the earth at that spot was warm with the use of magick.  She looked pityingly at the girl, who was as pale as a specter, except for the contrast of her wide, dark eyes.

            "Where is he?" the novice repeated breathlessly.

            Sakura explained to High Priestess Yelan her suspicions on what had happened while Tomoyo stood silently shaking.  The novice stared at the floor, unable to meet the faces of any of her gathered Sisters.  The priestesses listened to Sakura's story with dismay; they looked from one to another uncertainly.

            High Priestess Yelan's expression was hard with disappointment.  "The goddess must not know of this," she said to the young priestesses.  "If Lord Hades has indeed taken her son, we will all be held accountable."

            "Lord Eros may have gone willingly," Sakura offered.

            "But Lord Anteros would not have," said Yelan.  "We were charged with the well-being of both."  She briefly closed her eyes, her first showing of fear.

            The priestess with pigtails spoke up questioningly.  "Can't we just ask for him back?"

            "Lord Hades keeps to the Underworld," answered the High Priestess, "and no living mortal may enter his demesne."

            "What if someone died?" asked the priestess who was usually quiet, with uncharacteristic liveliness.  "A ghost could enter Hades, right?"

            "Ghosts…" repeated Priestess Sakura, suddenly looking her young age.

            While Sakura's eyes widened, Yelan's narrowed with speculation.  "If someone died…" she murmured.  Her cold glance took in the young girls around her.  A dozen innocent faces looked up to her without comprehension.  "Which one of you," queried The High Priestess, "would willingly offer your life for your goddess?"

            The novice Tomoyo's gasp was echoed by her Sisters as each of them understood the full meaning of their High Priestess's words.  One of them would die.  They were only being offered the opportunity to volunteer.  Tomoyo fearfully raised her tear-filled eyes from the floor.  She was the least of them, and the fault was hers.  She opened trembling lips to speak.

            "I will," said Sakura, before Tomoyo could find her voice.  The young priestess held onto her staff with a white-knuckled grip, but her voice was pure and brave.  Yelan turned to her with surprize, and Sakura turned her face up to her superior with strength in her expression.  "If  Lord Anteros is an unwilling… guest… of Lord Hades, then I will see to his return."

            "But you'll die!" exclaimed Tomoyo with horror.  Her tears spilled freely.

            "Very well," said Yelan to Sakura, "the duty will be yours.  Naoko, in my chamber there is a jar carved of crystal.  Bring it."  The quiet priestess made haste to obey the High Priestess.  To Sakura, Yelan continued, "Within that jar are seeds of thorn apple.  Death will be quick and certain.  I can send you with payment for the ferryman and with your staff, but that is all.  You must go quickly and send them back quickly."  Her voice gentled.  "As for you… our goddess will know that you are a dutiful Daughter.  May you rest in Elysium."

            "Thank you, High Priestess," said Sakura.  Priestess Naoko returned with the described jar, and a chalice of water.

            The priestesses prepared a pallet for their sacrificial sister in front of Kythere's altar.  With the terrible taste of the poison in her mouth, Priestess Sakura lay herself down and turned her eyes to the image of doves, carved in the translucent stone; they were adorned with fresh wildflowers that still held the morning's dew.  She would do this, she thought bravely, for Love.

Though, except for Yelan, the other priestesses watched from the edges of the room as she waited to die, Tomoyo kneeled at Sakura's side.  Tomoyo's face was paler than the doves, and her lashes were flecked with tears.  "You're eyes are the color of lupine," Sakura observed curiously.

            "It's my fault,"  Tomoyo said in a strangled whisper.  "You shouldn't have to…"

            "It's all right," Sakura assured her cousin, who she hardly knew.  "Somehow, it will be all right."

            High Priestess Yelan rested her hand on Sakura's forehead.  The skin was cold; the girl's eyes were becoming unfocused.  Yelan leaned close to the young priestess.  "Die quickly," she encouraged her, "and do not forget your duty."

. . .