It's back as promised. The new and improved, "Not :One: of Us". Different title, rehashed story, same old Celia (for the most part).
Welcome old and new readers, and enjoy.
Prima Materia
One. Metempsychosis
The sky cried.
A ridiculous notion. The woman lying—dying—on the ground knew better than to think anybody would be saddened by her death. It was a mere climatic event happening because of condensation and changing temperatures. Dark clouds weren't sentient. Neither was the dirt ground beneath her that she bled upon now. A fool would believe it living from how her blood painted it and pulsed through its cracked veins. Every hoarse and forced inhale bled her faster, infusing every breath onto the earth.
Yet for as much as she logically knew it to be false, it appeared to be so as the cold water washed the dirt and blood from her progressively ashen skin as her life left her. Dying alone was a blessing in and of itself, she surmised. Nobody would see her weak and fragile as she was in these last moments.
A wry smile managed to pull upon her lips at the thought.
"It is astonishing how you can laugh in the face of death."
Her vision blurring already, the woman could only see the faint silhouette standing over her. An abomination in man's skin. A haughty laugh burst from her chest, but the sound turned almost instantly into a nasty gurgle as warm crimson blood spilled from her mouth turning her lips the same shade.
"I laugh...because I have yet to lose."
"You poor, delusional lamb. Such a bright future ahead of you, such boundless power, and you shun it and turn your back on God. All for an abomination."
Blood shot from her lips as she spat at him with what little strength she had left, letting her head fall with a heavy thud against the ground with finality.
"To hell with your God," she muttered under her labored breath, chest heaving forcefully with each one, "...to hell with you."
Sudden pressure in her chest sucked the last bit of air in her lungs in an instant. Her eyes widened and fell at the pain that came and left her just as suddenly, reaping from her the last bit of her left. Drops fell on her eyes and rolled down the side of her face as she laid there, one last breath taken as the satisfied smile became permanently etched upon her lips and all light vanished from her eyes.
"Poor lamb indeed."
— — died after 11,986 days.
Several years later; Somewhere in China.
Snow?
Aloof amethyst eyes gazed skyward at the gray clouds above her. Tiny flakes of snow floated downward falling coldly into her open palms raised curiously upward. She watched with mild fascination as the flakes melted at coming in contact with her warm skin, the odd sensation of cold making her head reel with a sudden question.
How do I know...what snow is?
It was a strange thought. To her knowledge, she had never before seen this 'snow'. Nor felt this coldness against her skin or the biting asphalt beneath her feet. Her lungs had never hurt this much and she didn't know why her head was pounding so bad. The cold she felt when the flakes touched her hands coursed through her at the idea of 'cold' and her tiny body began to shiver. Teeth chattering and skin becoming colder by the second, her feet took off running aimlessly taking her through the streets that remained so deadly quiet that night. Finally slowing down when coming upon the main streets, the little girl held herself as she watched a handful of people traversing them. Amethyst eyes scanned around and stopped at the small fire that a group of people huddled over.
Wanting nothing more than to be warm, her bare feet pattered as she scampered over to their little group. The foul smell hit her nostrils before she even reached them and stopped her in her tracks. A few noticing her arrival scowled and glowered at her but she dismissed them to huddle closer to the warm fire instead. Suddenly, a cry came out of her when one of the men in the group kicked her out of the inner ring while growling something under his breath.
"Get your own fire, you little shit."
The little girl blinked astounded by the sudden act of aggression. Had she done something to provoke the old man? Though unable to understand, she didn't exactly have the time to wonder about it either when her teeth started chattering and clacking forcefully against each other as her body shook even more violently than before.
Cold.
It was getting too cold for her to bear anymore. The moment she tried getting up though—and to her utter surprise—something warm fell over her shoulders. Peering out from under it, the strong waft of perfumes and balms from the coat came to her. The scent was practically suffocating, but it was warm. Very much so. Gingerly taking it into her hands, she wrapped it closer around her tiny body and let it engulf her before raising her gaze to the one that had dropped such a piece of clothing on her.
Dark ebony eyes stared aloofly down at her as a petite woman stood over her. Somewhat messy red curls bounced around her neck as the woman turned to the lot huddled by the bonfire.
"You old shits have no heart treating a little girl like that."
"Fuck off, Red."
Red? Static floated in her head blurring her thoughts but was snapped out of it by the gruff sound of another man.
"Yeah." Another sounded off before hacking out spit. A crude look came over him then, his whole demeanor changing when the woman met his eyes. "Better yet, come fuck this." He vulgarly grabbed at his crotch lifting it for show, something the little girl found neither disturbing nor pleasing.
"You don't have the coin to afford a damn kick in your ass."
Though furious at her blatant slander, the others reeled him back before he could harm the woman that now placed herself between them and the little girl. One of the oldest there, an old lady drinking out of a metal flask, called out roughly while showing partially rotting teeth.
"Get out of here, Red, before they pounce at you."
The redhead humphed before turning on her heels and starting to walk away. When she realized the little girl was at a standstill, she grabbed her by her wrist and hauled the child after herself. The little girl didn't know what had happened or what even was going on now as the woman pulled her along the empty streets. The darkness of the night and the coldness of the faint snowfall were soon replaced by bright lights and warmth along a long stretch of road where rows upon rows of huge houses stood. Each had more women, not unlike Red, who wore barely any clothes despite the light snowfall and men wandering drunkenly down the streets—either filing out or being thrown out—while following the light out into the darkness that shrouded the rest of the town.
Round doe eyes strayed every which way trying to make sense of everything as a myriad of sensations bombarded her. Soon, though, Red took her into one of the many establishments breaking her concentration. This one was a grand mansion on the outside, lit to the brim and almost lighting the extent of the street that it stood in. Inside was even rowdier than she had initially thought as well. More women, each a beauty in their own right, filled every inch of the inside as men howled and perused the sights before them with drinks in hand and merriment in their hearts. She idly watched for a moment before the woman somewhat roughly hauled her through the mess of people and up a set of stairs onto the upper floors where fewer men seemed to be. A few of the other women greeted Red and although they sent questioning looks her way, none asked Red what she was doing dragging a little girl around the place.
Finally, the woman led her through a set of double doors to what she readily recognized as a huge bathhouse. They ignored the girls bathing there who simply shot curious glances and gossiped behind their backs as they entered more private bathrooms. Her amethyst eyes searched the small bathtub that sat on the floor next to a showerhead and stood idly in place when Red finally released the hold on her hand. Without warning, Red yanked away the warm perfumed coat that she'd dropped so suddenly on top of her.
Red stood her inches away before kneeling to inspect every inch of her. Ebony eyes took in every little detail, noting under her breath the few cuts and bruises she had littered across her body. Gently, she patted her down from head to toe all the while asking if anything hurt. It didn't. Her body just strangely ached like someone had given her the beating of a lifetime. She told her as much. Red hummed pensively before inspecting her face by taking hold of her chin.
"How old are you, girl?"
"Um..." She knew what age was. She just couldn't remember exactly what hers was. So she picked the first random number that sounded about right. "Six?"
"Good enough," she muttered before going to inspect her head. Suddenly, those ebony eyes widened with shock. She was so close to her that the action allowed her to see that her eyes weren't black at all. They were the darkest color of brown, like coffee. "You said nothing hurts?"
The little girl nodded her head. Red bit her lip and her eyes veered pensively. Rising from her spot, she talked her through everything she was doing as she undressed her. A bath was sorely needed is what she said. Her wounds needed to be taken care of and she needed a new set of clothes. She found it quite strange that a complete stranger took her in and offered all these things without asking for anything in return.
It felt wrong. The word suspicious came to mind.
"Why are you doing all this?"
The little girl finally asked once they were on her second shower. The first had been a literal bloodbath with how much dirt and old, matted blood she'd had on herself. Not to mention it left her whole body red and raw from the thorough scrubbing it received at Red's hands. The second one, the older woman mentioned, would leave her presentable.
Red eyed her from behind her where she carefully washed through her hair with warm water alone. The warmth made her flinch every time it touched a certain part of her head but she ignored it waiting for her answer.
"You got any family?"
She thought about it. 'Family' was a term she understood. Words and their meanings came to mind when she spotted certain things or people though it still bothered her that she knew not where she'd heard them or how. 'Family' gave her that odd feeling too. She knew what it was, didn't know exactly how, and she knew she didn't have it.
Red nodded thoughtfully when she told her as much. From the corner of her eye, she saw her put a small threaded needle through the flame of a candle that stood on the small table beside the bathtub. Sterilize. She didn't know what it meant. Just that that's what Red was doing by putting it through the small flame.
"How did you get all those scars on your body?"
Automatically, her hand covered her stomach. There it felt the rough patch of skin no larger than her closed fist that slit across her abdomen. Funny. She hadn't known that it was there before all this. Her head tilted curiously to respond but Red quickly straightened her neck to keep her facing forward while telling her to stay still.
"I don't know. I just know I have them."
She didn't know what compelled her to tell Red the truth—or as much of it as she could recall, anyway. Maybe the fact that she'd been the first to show her a modicum of kindness was it. Maybe…
"What'd you mean you don't know? You have that huge scar on your stomach, cuts, and bruises everywhere else, and this big open gash on the back of your head and you're telling me you don't know how you got them?"
"Gash?" she faintly repeated. Suddenly the stinging from the water and the needle made sense.
But before she could verify her suspicions, Red pierced through her skin to stitch said open wound closed. The girl hissed at the sudden pain, her hands gripping tightly the edges of the porcelain tub to keep from moving. It took a few minutes that hurt like high heavens but it was over soon, leaving only the angry red, stitched-up wound to peek from the small patch of hair she had cut short without her noticing. The balm Red gently coated it with helped the sudden pain quite a bit too.
Plucking her out of the oversized bathtub, the next stop was what appeared to be Red's room. At least that's what she surmised by the rather overt touches of decorations. A few touches of gold ornaments were scattered about, like a gold-framed vanity and accessories, but the rest were different shades of dark red. A wine red, she supposed, likening the color scheme to the bottles of said alcohol linning a certain shelf not far from her plush-looking bed.
Red lifted her to stand on the chest that sat at the foot of said bed before going about gathering clothes from her wardrobe. When she saw her return with small, one-piece dresses and blouses and skirts in hand, it finally dawned on her.
I'm still butt naked.
It took a few attempts and some try-ons of the clothes Red had at hand before they found one that fit her small body. It wasn't anything special compared to what she'd seen those women in the foyer wearing. But it was sleepwear from the looks of it. Just a white gown a bit too big for her. When she kept pulling at her long sleeves with a frown, Red mimicked the gesture back.
"Don't give me that," Red reproached when she caught sight of her expression. "You're lucky I even had something close to your size. You're way too small for your age."
"I don't really know my age," she finally confessed with an aloof expression returning to her face. "I just said what I thought sounded right."
This finally got Red to truly scowl in frustration. She stood with a hand on her hips and stared down at her. "What the hell happened to you, kid?" She then shook her head as if whisking away that same question as she placed a hand to her temple. "Forget it, you probably don't know either."
I don't. But confirming that seemed like the wrong choice, so she kept silent instead.
Red peeved out of her mind finally said, "Is there anything you do know? Like your name maybe?" Knowing the answer but not daring to say it, she pursed her lips shut instead. That, however, gave it away to Red who sighed, exhausted. "Didn't think that would be hoping for much. Guess I was wrong."
"Is Red your name?"
Red nodded briskly as she busied herself with putting the rest of the clothes she'd taken out back in her wardrobe. The girl climbed down from the chest meanwhile to take a seat on it and watch her from afar. "It's what people know me as. You'll address me as Madame."
"Madame?"
"As for why I brought you here..." she trailed off for a moment, "I didn't just do so out of the goodness of my heart. I'm a little short-handed at the moment."
The girl put together the vague meanings of the words she recalled to make sense of what she'd just said.
"You...own this place?"
"Simply put, yes. I own this brothel." Madame Red came back to her, plucking her from under her armpits to carry her over onto the bed that had been so lushly adorned. With ease, Red parted the comforter and blankets away before tucking her down into the bed. Baffled beyond belief, the little girl sprung from out the most comfortable bed she'd ever laid on when Red began walking towards the door.
"Wait, you're just going to leave me here?"
"It's late," she retorted, walking over to a few lit candles and deftly putting them out with a press of her licked fingers. "And children—especially injured ones—should rest and get better so as to not be a bother later."
Seeing she wasn't satisfied with the downplayed explanation, Red made her way back to her to tuck her back in and stayed by her side for a moment to properly explain.
"You need to rest well so that you can heal properly."
"You never answered my question." Despite talking back, she didn't move from her spot as she sunk back into the cozy, feather mattress. Funny how its softness was weighing so heavily on her eyelids. She rubbed them in a poor attempt to keep awake too stubborn to go to sleep before getting her answer. "Why...are you doing all this for me? You don't even know me."
"I don't." Red tenderly brushed the girl's dark brunette locks back from her face before retreating her hand. "But I take care of my workers, the young and old. And since you'll be working for me from tomorrow onwards, it's only natural for me to see after your wellbeing. Now, stop asking questions and rest, Celia."
Amethyst eyes grew wide, her mind suddenly wide awake.
"Celia?"
Madame Red smiled and bopped her nose with a slim finger. The dark gaze that had looked so oddly distrustful turned suddenly kind as her smile turned gentle at noticing the expression of pure bafflement on the previously aloof girl.
"I have to call you something. Now, rest, Celia. I'll see you in the morning."
Red left her in a darkened room but with the sudden bomb she'd dropped, it was practically impossible to sleep. Celia felt her chest swell up a little as well as her cheeks becoming warmer the more the word bounced around in her head.
Not a word, she told herself faintly. A name. My name.
The giddiness that bounced around and swelled in her heart made her smile for the first time. Hiding under the blanket, she held it tightly in her hands before turning to the only window in the room. Because of how high it was from the streets, only a faint hue from the red light below reached it but it wasn't high enough to escape from the moonlight that faded in and out of view from behind passing clouds.
Allowing that feeling to settle finally let the exhaustion and weariness she'd been hiding take over and bring her to sleep.
"C'mon, Celia. I'll show you around the place and what your job will be here."
Celia bounced on her feet and sprinted forward to catch up to Madame without a word. The morning had been much closer than she thought but even those few hours that had gone by had been much needed rest for her. From what Red told her, her wounds had pretty much healed overnight. Something quite shocking according to her, but lucky all the same.
Out of the house and back in the brothel, they traversed through the now quiet halls—something surprising in and of itself for Celia—until they arrived at the back part of the business where, to her utter shock, mostly young children and teens resided. Like tiny ants, they trekked on working diligently and with such precision that Celia couldn't believe it. That work was halted the instant Red clapped her hands to summon them. All at once, the children obediently dropped what they were doing and rushed to line up before her. Celia jumped at how well coordinated they were. It was kind of scary, really. Madame, not the least bit fazed, walked over to one of the older girls. Celia watched from a safe distance as Red patted the young girl's head before turning back to her and addressing the girl from before.
"This is Celia, Rosalia. Be a good girl and teach her how we do things around here for me."
The girl's, Rosalia's, eyes twinkled in their green hue as she nodded. "Yes, Madame."
Red took her hand back before returning to Celia who cowered a bit when Red tried to pat her head the same way she had Rosalia. Not bothered, Red took her hand back and crouched down before Celia with a smile pulling on her lips.
"I don't intend to hurt you. I took you in to take care of you. Of course, it won't be for free. But you're still young so it'll be a long while before you can truly earn your keep here. Enjoy doing the little menial tasks while you still can, Celia."
Amethyst eyes scrunched up, confused by the cryptic comment but restrained from asking when she saw Red stand up and address the rest of the children present.
"Be kind to her, my lovelies. You have a new little sister to take care of now."
"Yes, Madame!" the chorus of high-pitched voices answered back.
Madame Red then left her to her devices with the hoard of children that lapped at her every word like bees drawn to honey. Celia stayed back as the kids returned to their tasks, the only one bothering with her being the one left in charge of her. Rosalia stared down at Celia with those big green eyes of her. A small scowl formed on her lips before she clicked her tongue, something Celia found strange from someone who'd sounded and seemed so sweet just seconds ago.
"You're the new one?" Rosalia shook her head, resigned. "Madame could do so much better than some wretch from the streets."
Celia wanted to retort with the small annoyance that started to grow with each of Rosalia's words. Before she could though, Rosalia pointed behind her to the bunch of smaller children that were doing all kinds of work fit for their tiny bodies.
"Whatever. Street rats are still useful, I guess. So let's put you to work."
And she stayed true to her word.
Through the early hours of the morning, Celia came to find that working as a six-year-old was beyond exhausting. Her tiny body could only do so much. Nonetheless, she had to earn her stay at Red's from what Rosalia kept telling her. Strange way to pay back considering how menial her tasks were, consisting of cleaning dishes and doing the laundry of the women that worked on the other side of the brothel. Though few, they were draining. By the afternoon when lunch was served to them, courtesy of the downstairs bar, Celia couldn't feel her hands anymore nor ignore the pounding pain from the soles of her feet from running around in her oversized shoes. It was while eating her meal and sitting around with the rest of the children that Celia finally got a good look at what kind of children worked for Madame.
Some of them looked older than her by a few years. Those around Rosalia's age were much more abundant and had no problem hustling the smaller children like her around. All under Rosalia's iron thumb, of course. She might've looked young but even Celia could tell that the girl that commanded their little working force was as brutal as she was beautiful. It seemed her only priority was pleasing Madame Red's whim which included training them, no matter how much she appeared to hate them. Was this the kind of work that would help her pay back Red?
The thought made Celia wonder for a moment what exactly Red had meant about 'not truly earning her keep' yet. Her mind had a very vague idea about what a brothel was but because she couldn't quite grasp it, her trust for them was still up in the air. Sure they gave her a home, food, and clothes but with the lasting promise that she would eventually pay it back. Working one way or another by the sound of things.
Nothing felt more brutal than the manual job she had now though. By the end of that first day, she was exhausted beyond words. The instant Rosalia showed her to the bed that would be hers in the room she shared with the younger kids, Celia plopped down with her shoes still on ready to knock out. Just as she was about to drift off, the squeals of the children awoke her and brought her attention to their door as Madame entered their room. The children rushed over to her as she crouched down to speak to each one and thank them for their hard day's work. Rosalia stood behind Madame to one side, proud to be there by her expression.
Once all those pleasantries were done with, Red's dark gaze fell on Celia which instantly woke her up as she made her way to her bed. Offering Celia her hand, Red smiled tenderly.
"Come, we should check that wound of yours before you head to bed."
Not wanting to go with her but not wanting to dismiss her either, Celia inhaled deeply before getting out of bed and trailing after Madame. On her way out, she noted how the children pouted and glared at her, obviously peeved by the special treatment she was getting. Rosalia simply huffed unconcerned. But when she took a step forward intent on following behind them, Madame stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Why don't you help your little siblings to bed, Rosalia, dear?"
Despite it being a question, something in Celia told her that it had been anything but. Her tone might be sweet and loving but the way Rosalia's expression contorted from pride to downtrodden told her enough. Rosalia wanted to say no, but she wouldn't do that to Madame. So instead she muttered a small 'of course' before hollering at the smaller kids to get changed for bed.
Their clamoring quieted the further they got from the large bedroom but to Celia's surprise, aside from the noise that the children were making as they headed to bed, there was something else. Another noise. But it sounded muffled. Like it wasn't coming from the halls of the backhouse. It was as they passed the halls that linked the backhouse to the brothel that she realized just what was making all the noise.
"The brothel works at night," she faintly realized.
"It does," Madame retorted. "The grown-ups and I work at night while you and the rest of the children work during the day. That way you aren't too exposed to the comings and goings below."
"Are bad things happening down there?" Celia asked, curiously.
Madame Red giggled coyly at that. "Yes. Quite bad indeed."
Despite her curiosity, something restrained Celia from asking any further questions and instead quietly followed after Madame. Back in the only other familiar room, Celia took a seat on the chest from the night before to allow Madame some leeway to inspect her. It healed by the sound of things, though it baffled her how such a deep wound could've done so from one night to the next. Celia was grateful, all things considered. At least it wasn't hurting anymore.
Just as Madame was about to apply some more balm to be sure it would have minimal scarring, a hurried knock came to her door. It caught their attention instantly but only Red approached the door to find one of the working girls on the other side. Celia remained still in her seat at the chest but even from there, she could still somewhat hear the hushed conversation they were having.
"...he's here…"
"...where…?"
"...parlor…"
Madame appeared flustered, something Celia caught by the flush of her fair cheeks. A more hushed conversation ensued before the working girl was sent away and Madame returned to her. Her whole demeanor changed with that turn. Glee was evident in those dark eyes as it was on her flustered rosy cheeks. It was strange seeing such features on her. It made Celia wonder what exactly had made her like that. But she didn't even have time to ask. Madame ushered her out of her room saying she needed to get ready for a guest and for Celia to find her way back to the room.
It was all so abrupt that before she knew it, she'd been kicked out of Madame's room and into the hallway, leaving Celia to make her way back to the shared bedroom on her own. But somewhere on the way and between all the turns taken, Celia had to admit a grave realization that dawned on her.
"I don't know where the heck I'm going."
Bitterly, she grumbled to herself as she thought of what to do. Downstairs was an option. Asking one of the working girls was a sure way to know where the children's quarters were at. It was that or keep dawdling aimlessly. One long glance back at the empty and quiet hallways sent a chill down her spine that got her to turn about towards the nearest staircase.
Downstairs it is.
The stairs creaked under her small weight and accompanied her to the foot of the staircase. It was there where a sharp pain struck the back of her head. It wasn't a blow, just a pungent pain that pounded in her skull. Beneath it all, Celia's ear caught something.
A small whisper.
A hushed voice.
And it was calling her.
It was spitting unintelligible gibberish but there was no doubt that it was there. Curious by the little voice, Celia turned a corner that led further into the brothel. These hallways were part of it by the looks of it, but they were separate too. More private. Whatever they were used for didn't matter to her though. The voice kept growing louder the further she walked down the hallway and turned to a quiet and rhythmic humming at the foot of a closed door.
Celia stared at it for a moment thinking about what could possibly be on the other side before taking the large doorknob in her small hands and turning it. With a soft click, the door slowly parted open. Amethyst eyes peered inside to find it oddly empty and dark. The few oil lamps that were on gave only faint lighting that served no better than a candle. Tiptoeing in, Celia perused about the room noting nothing different between it and Madame's or even the room she was to share with the children. If anything was different, it was the decor and decal but it was simple enough to be banal at best.
Room aside, a few things stood out about the things scattered about. A long trench coat with gold trimmings along with gold ornaments. It stunk of cigar smoke and alcohol. On the table in the middle of the room was an opened bottle of wine with a glass half full and beside them some weird items.
Among them a gun.
Celia had never seen one before. At least, not that she recalled. But faulty memory aside, she knew that it was one and that it wasn't a particularly normal one at that. Coming closer to inspect it, taking the liberty to stand on top of one of the chairs for a better view, Celia tilted her head at the odd pistol. Its muzzle was longer and the barrel looked empty, not to mention the odd-looking insignias carved on it. A cross, maybe? Odd. Curiosity peeked beyond words, Celia reached her small arm out towards it. Hovering over the pistol, a sudden and strange warmth tickled under her skin.
Her fingers flinched and stopped at the eerie sensation. It was almost like electricity running underneath her skin, skipping through her veins like her blood did but livelier. So much livelier. Amethyst eyes remained transfixed on the gun as she continued to reach out to it. Suddenly the electricity that coursed through her manifested inches away from the gun's handle as tiny bolts of bright green connected her skin to it.
It was a brief connection, one that sent shivers down her spine, but everything along with those shivers was sent flying out the window when a flash of gold crossed her vision out of the blue only to obscure it and tackle her down in the process.
"What the—"
Something big and fluffy blocked her mouth the instant she opened it to talk. Celia struggled against the large mass that put its whole weight on her tiny body essentially pinning her on the floor. Punching, kicking, and biting, she did all she could think of to get it off. When she finally decided to take it to a biting match, Celia followed suit biting as hard as she could onto the fluff that got pushed inside her mouth.
A strange noise howled and all at once the big mass jumped off of her. Instinctively rushing to the table, Celia doesn't hesitate to take the gun in her hand despite the flurry of bright green electricity that escaped her skin the instant she touched it. Though not painful, the sudden change and the golden ball's reengage forced her to react rather than think.
Celia didn't know what took over when she aimed and pressed the trigger. There wasn't much to think when the charge of green energy shot across the room and hit whatever attacked her. The gun fell out of her hands when she fell back from the recoil but Celia lost no time in looking up to see what became of the creature.
Dust.
The shot turned it into nothing more than a huge pile of gold dust that dirtied the floor. Running up to it, she stared at it long enough to assure herself that it was actually dead. How the heck was that thing here? What even was that thing? A pigeon? It had wings from what she caught in glimpses and she recalled that pigeons also had them but then an odd thought came to her. The moment it did dread fell over her, her face blanching at the thought.
"I shot someone's pigeon."
Doors bursting open took her attention as two people came rushing in. She instantly recognized Red as she stood behind the person who'd burst through first. Red's dark eyes grew wide at noticing her there and immediately rushed past the man to kneel before her. Celia however, even through Madame's incessant henning, didn't dare pry her eyes from the dark crimson gaze piercing her coming from the redheaded man.
"What was that ghastly sound? Are you alright? What are you doing out of bed?"
"I'm okay…" Celia replied but never once made eye contact with her. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the tall man that calmly made his way towards the gun abandoned on the floor.
Deftly, he bent over to pick it in his large hand and inspected the pistol for a moment before lifting his gaze to lock with hers. Amethyst eyes widened a bit at noticing something she hadn't from how dark the room was. He wore a mask. Half a mask, actually, on the right side of his face. The sight of it rang a bell in her head but a very quiet one. It was a noise that barely echoed in her head but that annoyed her enough to grab at her ear from all the ringing.
The sudden warmth that came to her hand made her retract it only to see fresh blood painting her fingers and palm. Madame clicked her tongue then as she forcefully bent her head forward.
"Your wound is open. How did you do that?"
"...I fell."
"Brat." The deep baritone voice that rang through the empty room reverberated enough to bring both their gazes back to him as he lazily leaned on one foot. Without any prompting, he lifted his gun to have it in full view. "You shot my gun, didn't you?"
Amethyst eyes locked with dark crimson for the full second that she refused to answer. In the end, she averted her eyes, something Madame took as a confirmation, prompting her to take a tight hold of her shoulders and shake her.
"You did what?!"
"It was an accident!" Celia immediately countered. "Some...pigeon attacked me and wouldn't let go of me. I just grabbed the thing and shot it!"
"You don't shoot guns!" Madame reproached her sternly and with one more shake to get her point across. "Do you hear me? You don't hurt anybody, much less pick up a weapon against anything or anyone."
"It bit me first!"
"And you will not answer back in such a way so long as you live under my roof, do you understand me?"
That served the purpose of shutting her up entirely. Though, if her pursed lips were anything to go by, there was still much to say from her part.
"Now apologize."
Celia's head snapped back so quickly she swore it'd snap off. "What?"
"You hurt Master Cross's companion. Apologize now, Celia."
"No need." The moment he said that Celia and Madame turned to him only to watch him holster his gun back and place it on the table before smirking. "Right, Tim?" From behind him, the big golden pigeon flew carelessly onto the table, its wings curling behind it and its large fluffy tail curling around itself.
Amethyst eyes went wide before she spun around faster than she thought possible. But the ground was clean. The dust was gone. No matter where she looked, there wasn't any trace of it anywhere anymore.
"It's alive…"
"That's a relief." Madame took Celia by her shoulders then and hurried her towards the door despite Celia's desperate attempt to keep glancing back. "I apologize all the same, Master Cross. She shouldn't be out and about, much less playing with your belongings. If you'll excuse me, I'll return in a few minutes after I make sure that she's put to bed."
"Take your time."
Celia kept looking back until she wasn't able to anymore. Until her gaze was forcefully torn from the sight of the redheaded, masked man and the golden, overweight pigeon.
The sun is nice out.
With the snow melted away under the beating sunlight and more trees and flowers sprouting vibrant colors after the April showers, it truly was starting to seem like spring. Perfect weather to air out the laundry too.
Some of the younger girls dawdled about enjoying the sunny day that welcomed them in the morning. Celia, knowing they couldn't dally for much, called them over and imparted on them each a small basket where they'd carry their heap of clothes back inside. Heaving a sigh, she picked the one that was for her—the biggest one—but stopped short when a flash of gold caught her eye. Knowing fully well what would come, Celia safeguarded the basket of clean clothes instead of herself and took the full force of the tackle that pushed her onto her back against the floor. The younger girls chuckled as she sat up accommodating the big ball of gold that was Timcanpy as it nibbled on the crown of her head.
"Tim! Tim! Tim!" They chanted in unison, all while giggling at her misfortune.
"Don't encourage him!"
They chuckled some more and got her to shake her head at their childishness. Having had enough nibbling, Celia forcefully yanked Timcanpy off of her head before patting the giant ball and tying its tail around her waist. Not caring, it settled on the floor and allowed her to drag him along as Celia, with her freed hands, continued with taking back the heaviest basket of laundry while the other girls took in smaller heaps. Like a dutiful line of ducklings, they followed behind her and Timcanpy back into the manor that she now could comfortably say had become like home.
And it only took half a year.
Celia couldn't believe how six whole months could fly by so fast before her eyes. So much happened during those months too that she couldn't very well believe it. After fully healing and taking to her duties, Celia found it enjoyable after becoming accustomed to the arduous job. But it wasn't all work and no games. Madame was sure to give them all an allowance and a day where the older girls would take the others out to town to enjoy however they wanted. Those who didn't want to could stay behind and enjoy a peaceful day off at the manor in their rooms or the common rooms. It was a pleasant trade-off for the days of work they had, frankly. What money she saved up usually went to either buying sweets or books and what days she remained behind in the manor, she spent them in her room reading. On odd occasions she would visit the women who worked in the brothel who, despite thinking her odd for going on the other side of the manor against Madame's wishes, welcomed the chirpy kid who gave them some good-natured fun and sweets from time to time.
Some of the children thought her odd for not wanting to enjoy as much time outside of the manor as they could after days of nonstop work, but for Celia it was the best way to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was to learn. It was why she used her allowance for books and free time to read or speak to the older women of the brothel. Books and grownups taught her things that she didn't know and in some cases, those things that she did know but had no idea how she did.
Speaking of, her memory had yet to return. Sometimes, Celia thought she could see blurs of them in her dreams. Happenings that she didn't recall replayed when she slept but when she woke, they were more than forgotten. The only reason she felt like they were that same past she couldn't recall was simply because of the emotions that surged through her whenever she awoke from those dreams. They were always a mix of joy, rage, fear, and tenderness. The one emotion that always remained when she awoke though was a sadness so profound that it more often than not brought her to tears. Mornings like those woke her early which was good. It gave her time to break down what she felt and set it aside. Though she wanted to remember them, that they left her as heartbroken as they did after such nights wasn't much encouragement.
It was good that her time in the manor was enjoyable in contrast.
Celia recoiled when just as she rounded the end of the stairs to head into the guestrooms a vase crashed not far from her. The noise spooked her and she jumped back bumping into Timcanpy as shards of porcelain scattered everywhere. Willing her racing heart to calm down, her eyes sprung upward the instant she heard giggling from upstairs.
At spotting familiar brunettes and the telltale glimpse of green eyes Celia couldn't help but heave a sigh before crouching down and carefully picking up the broken porcelain with the hem of her dress.
For the most part anyway.
Routine as it had become, she still couldn't understand what had Rosalia and her group so uptight. Okay, maybe she did. It started after Madame appointed her to aid Rosalia in her duties overwatching the other kids two months ago. Celia guessed that after having clicked with the young girls so well in such a short time made her an easy pick. Unfortunately, that choice put a pretty big target on her back. Their harassment tended to be mostly verbal though they weren't beyond harming her physically. Of course, it was all under wraps. It made her wonder where they learned to hurt others without leaving marks.
"Wish they would punch me instead of breaking stuff."
Just as she was about to pick up a rather large piece, a shiny row of teeth opening nearby took her by surprise as Timcanpy went about munching down the porcelain pieces. It took him less than a minute to clean it all up and if she dared say it, it looked better than before. With a chuckle, Celia turned to Tim with a small smile as she dumped what pieces she'd picked up into his waiting mouth. She gave him a few pats as he munched on, swallowing the remnants of that nasty act pretty quickly.
"Thanks."
After having that cleaned up, she made her way down a hallway to a door that had become awfully familiar in the past months. Celia didn't bother knocking. She pushed the door open with enough space for Timcanpy to get through before yanking him in and closing it behind her. Turning about, she spotted who she was looking for enjoying the sunlight of the day over on the veranda. Or his back and long crimson hair anyway. Celia grabbed Timcanpy's tail from around her waist undoing the knot it was before dragging the ball of fluff over to its owner and plopping down herself on the other side of it.
The thick scent of smoke crawled around him and hugged him close as he took a drag of his cigarette. She abhorred the smell the first time she caught a whiff of it but after a while, she learned to cope with it like she had the smell of alcohol, sweat, and sourness from the laundry.
"Did she not teach you how to knock?" Cross finally said after another long drag of his smoke.
"I'll start knocking the day you teach this annoying ball to stop tackling me down."
"Tim bites people who irk him."
"You and your ball annoy me and you don't see me biting. I'm thinking of making an exception if this goes on though." Celia pointed out of the room and in the general direction of the kitchen, "I've got a pretty good inventory of knives to pick from too."
Cross scoffed and languidly let his hand fall close to Timcanpy who swiftly ate the cigarette from his hand. "Makes one wonder how you keep getting bullied if you bark at them half as much as you do against me."
Celia kept quiet instead of replying, deciding to lay over Timcanpy who growled deep inside but didn't bother getting her off his back.
It's not like she didn't fight back. She talked back to them whenever Madame wasn't around and though that calmed them down for a few hours, they always came back with a vengeance. Frankly, she didn't know what was so great about being Madame's favorite like Rosalia claimed to be. Sure they got perks but from what she could gather they would end up serving her the same way all the other women on the other side of the brothel did.
"Again, Celia?"
Both her and Cross glanced over their shoulders to watch as Madame Red entered the room all dolled up like she always did when Cross was around. Which by her count was every other week nowadays.
"Cross's—"
"Master Cross."
Pouting, Celia chose the roundabout way to phrase her dilemma. "Timcanpy keeps finding me whenever he's here. I just came to return him."
"Well, in that case, good girl, but you should leave now and attend to your duties." Coming near and bending over, Red caressed her cheek tenderly. Something that, despite knowing it was given to them all, Celia always valued for the little bit of care it showed. "It's lunchtime and the children must be waiting for you at the kitchen already. Be a good girl and help feed them, alright?"
"Yes, Madame." Rising from her seat, she patted Timcanpy a couple of times before bowing to Cross like Madame had taught her to and excusing herself before leaving them alone. Before she closed the door though she took a peek at their quaint interactions as Cross helped her take a seat beside him. As he did, her eyes caught a glimpse of something underneath the sleeves of her dress.
Bandages?
Not knowing what to make of it, Celia left quickly after, closing the door quietly after herself and forgetting about that strange sight for the rest of the day.
"She's...dying?"
There wasn't any stopping the wails of so many children after such news. From young to old, the children under Madame's care felt uneasiness crawling into them at the news of what would eventually be their caretaker's fate.
Celia herself couldn't believe the news either. It'd been another couple of months since she noticed Madame's illness but she thought it was one that would pass much like the ones that struck them at times. But this was different. At least that's how the brothel women made it sound after the doctor's home visit.
Malignant. Untreatable. Terminal.
Endless hours on end of reading told her well enough what those words meant in regards to Red's health. And though many wept, Celia remained stoic as could be to instead console the young children that looked up to her. Many couldn't keep as much of a straight face though. Rosalia sorely included. She and many of the older girls couldn't help their tears as the children came to Madame's bedside to say their goodbyes. Many of the brothel women had to keep the younger kids at bay before they could swarm their caretaker which left her and the other older girls to stand at her bedside.
Amethyst eyes fixated on the weakened figure that now laid in bed. A sickly hue painted her once youthful face. Dark coffee-colored eyes once bright with life were now dull and sunken. Beautiful crimson hair laid disheveled despite being tied to one side to rest over her shoulder and away from her face. A gorgeous woman once so lively and bright laid bedridden and sickly and it turned Celia's stomach to see her in such a way.
"M-M-Madame…"
"P-Please g-get better soon."
"P-P-Please, we'll b-be good."
"Shh." Madame Red's whisper was barely audible over their cries but when they heard it, the bunch of them quieted as best they could to hear her words. "Everything is going to be alright. I've taught you all how to take care of yourselves and each other and your older sisters from the brothel will surely take care of you once I'm gone."
The sole reminder of what would inevitably happen brought the wailings anew. Though the words coming from her almost brought her over the edge themselves, Celia took a deep breath to keep the tears from pouring and instead stayed by Madame's side. Even when the women took the children to bed, even when the older girls couldn't stand staying there anymore as they watched by the hour their caretaker wither away, Celia stayed taking care of her as best she knew how to.
If only to ease her pain as she slowly slipped away. As day turned to night, she remained knowing full well there was nothing left for her to do except wait.
It was the early hours of the morning then, only a short month after the diagnosis, that Celia was rudely awoken by a sharp pricking on her head. Waking with a yelp, she slapped at whatever was on her head and caught Timcanpy when he fell on her lap as she sat beside the bed. Uttering his name under her breath, her tired brain connected the dots easily enough when she raised her gaze to see him.
Cross had been sorely missing the whole time that Madame took sick and though not unusual for a man that came and went however he pleased, Celia couldn't help but hate him more and more when Madame would utter his name under her breath during her delirium. Now that he was here though, a strange sense of relief washed over her as she set Timcanpy down on the floor and shook Madame's arm to wake her.
"Madame, Madame." But the relief was quickly beginning to vanish the longer she shook her with no response. Dread bit away at her heart as her chest tightened. Not wanting to accept it, Celia shook her harder. "Red, wake up. Cross is here. He's finally here. You've gotta wake up."
But she didn't. And it wasn't until she took in the fact of how cold her arm felt underneath her grasp that the reason finally hit her. A much larger hand came over hers and pried them off of her cold arm. Cross brushed Red's dull hair away from her face and leaned over to place a tender kiss on her forehead before gently covering her entirely with the sheet she'd been sleeping with.
It wasn't until she saw the sheet fall and nothing else rise that Celia's tears poured from her. Drops fell on the satin sheets as they rolled off her cheeks at last along with sobs she couldn't help yelling.
Red was gone.
And all Celia could do now was weep while a round ball rubbed against her leg.
Things weren't quite the same after Madame Red passed away. Though the brothel kept functioning and the woman that took over as matron upheld Red's way of doing things, everything seemed off. Almost like they were all walking down a tightrope that was ready to snap at any second.
Celia managed to compose herself after the funeral and kept loyal to her duties. More now than ever, she took care of the young children and helped them deal with their sorrow the best way she knew how to. The older ones were a completely different story. It was simply impossible for anybody to console them. They wouldn't listen to the brothel girls much less her when they urged them to grieve but not let this overwhelm them. But no matter what anybody said they remained as inconsolable as the day that Madame died.
The months that followed didn't change that. Time just seemed to make things worse. Having a hard time sleeping nowadays herself, Celia took a trip to the kitchen for some warm milk when she spotted the familiar figure. It took her a solid moment until she realized that she'd just seen Rosalia sneaking out of the manor in the dead of night.
What the hell is she thinking?
They had always been told that leaving the manor at night was a big mistake. The men that lingered about wouldn't care about their age or who's brothel they belonged to. All they would see would be young women for the taking. And she would call her stupid all night if it weren't for the fact that she was now sneaking out to follow after Rosalia herself.
"Damnit," she muttered under her breath as she snuck across the street and out of the Red Light District to follow after the faint light that the girl took with her that acted now as her beacon.
Despite the countless times of venturing the streets of their hometown over the last year, it became a completely different story now that everything was shrouded in darkness. She would've been truly lost had it not been for the lantern that guided both their ways. Soon though it stopped in the place she least expected it to.
The cemetery?
Celia had been to it once and could not wipe the sight of it from her mind. Not even in the dark of night did it lose its eeriness. Hiding behind a lone tree, she watched Rosalia from afar as she stopped before a tombstone. One that took her a moment to recognize in the dark as Madame's grave.
What is she—
The faint sound of weeping gave away the answer. A part of her stood still, awestruck at what she now witnessed. Celia knew she was still grieving but nothing suggested that she was this forlorn. A side of her wanted to stop Rosalia, to somehow urge them to understand that even with her gone, they had to keep going. Somehow. But another, the same part that still grieved itself, convinced her not to.
It convinced her to leave her be—to let her grieve how she believed it'd be best for her. And it convinced her to make the one decision she would regret for the rest of her life.
It convinced her to leave.
Three days later, a ruckus woke her up brusquely and made Celia shoot up from her bed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness that bathed the room she shared with the children but when they did, they frantically searched for where that noise came from. After a minute of nothing more, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Just the wind.
Or that would've been her final say on it had she not heard it again just as she laid her head upon her pillow. Louder now and coming from downstairs. It'd gotten loud enough to rouse the other children and frightened them upon hearing it. Shushing them, she asked them to stay there while she went to go alert the women from the brothel. Surely a customer stumbled into the other side of the house. It'd happened before, her thundering heartbeat told her which she retold to the children. It's just that.
It served the purpose of calming them down enough for her to don her slippers and trot out of their room with a candle in hand. Leaping three steps at a time to get downstairs faster, she got to the door that separated the brothel and the manor quickly. Once she stood before it with her hand on the doorknob, however, she froze when a strange foreboding struck her.
It felt like electricity running down her spine and making her skin feel like millions of ants were crawling under it. A shock of sorts that came faster than she could think urged her to step away. Urged her to turn left instead and run far down into the room to the left.
To Madame's old room.
Her grip on the doorknob slackened as her dread grew tenfold at the distorted voice that begged her to listen. Though unintelligible gibberish, there wasn't any denying the urgency it spoke with.
And Celia couldn't deny her gut feeling.
It spurred her to a sprint down the hall, her candle forgotten and dropped in the middle of the floor to roll away as she rushed through the long hallway and burst through the door. Despite the darkness that swallowed the room there wasn't any mistaking those bright red eyes that pierced through the shadows. And absolutely nothing hid the stench that rushed past her the instant she opened the door.
One that she recognized strangely quick the moment it hit her nostrils.
Blood...
That dank odor given off by fresh blood was hard to miss just as much as the crunching noises that echoed from within the room. Finally, her eyes adjusted and widened the instant she saw what was inside.
Because that thing was not human. It looked human, lithe, and donning a fancy dress, but instead of a human's, a spider's head hovered over its shoulders. The couple of eyes that she saw turned to her then as six more opened wide and stared directly at her. Celia froze as from underneath its skirts several razor-sharp legs appeared. Frozen as she was though, it wasn't the eyes fixated on her or the monster she saw before her that caused it. The mangled bodies that laid on the floor beneath it did. Bodies that she recognized despite their state. The other girls; the older ones. With one starkly missing from the group.
One that her mind and that strange electricity from before convinced her to be true.
"...Rosalia…?"
It charged.
Celia instinctively shut the door in its face. That didn't stop it as much as she hoped. It crashed through the instant it collided, even crashing through the door of the room across from how fast it went head first. Not waiting to see what became of it, she darted across the hallway but just as she made it halfway up the stairs, the monster crashed from underneath and blocked her path. It howled loudly before the bottom half of its face rotated into a different expression. A feral grin.
"What a delicious little morsel."
Celia stood at a standstill but her head instantly snapped towards the rooms when the shrieks of children rose in the air. She opened her mouth to scream at them to run but the word wasn't even out of her lips when the thing rushed towards them. All it took was a moment before screams of terror filled the manor and chilled her blood. A ruckus ensued like dominoes falling against each other the moment the doors separating the brothel opened to let even more people in. This time she didn't waste time with her warning.
"Run! It's killing—"
Before she could even finish, smaller spiderlings crawled from above towards the first floor and attacked them, mauling them with their overly large mandibles. The scent of blood thickened as the screams rang louder, both invading Celia's senses and causing her to lose her footing. Stumbling down on the stairs, she huffed when she hit the ground below. Before panic could overtake her though, she ran back from where she'd come from towards Madame's room.
The moment she made it in, she skirted past the mangled bodies left behind and burst through the small room that led to the veranda outside. Away, her mind screamed, get away! But just as her feet hit the back alleys that connected the manor to the District, the walls burst open giving way for the monsters to block her path and corner her in the dead end.
Celia retreated slowly with shaky legs as her heart pounded violently in her chest. Looking about, she picked up the first thing she could find, a broken pipe that had fallen in the wreckage, and wielded it with a tremulous grip. It stared for a moment before it's jaw rotated from the growling mouth to the grinning lips as they opened.
"...Ce...lia…"
The guttural sound shook her to her core but a part of her froze at the sound of her name spilling from its lips. Though it grinned ferally something didn't seem right as it kept repeating her name and slowly making its way towards her. It was grinning but its eyes—
It's crying.
"You're...in pain…"
"..Re...d...p-plea...se...wake...u-up…he's...h-h-here…."
Those words froze her in place the moment she recognized them. They were hers—her last words to Madame Red. Realizing that finally made something click into place. Something that, for as unbelievable as it seemed, was the only thing that made sense to her.
That thing isn't Rosalia.
"You're Red."
"Ce...lia…" The tears that poured out its eyes turned crimson as the rest of it shone in a bright color as well, hardening around its body and making it gleam red in the moonlight. "...please…"
Electricity rushed through her body and her veins at the quiet plea. Suddenly, the grip on the broken pipe was set ablaze. Instinctively, she let go but even when her grip slackened, the pain that rushed from the palm of her hand didn't. It took her looking down to realize why.
Pure white feathers burst from her palms engulfing the pipe faster than she could think of. The feathers hurt as they crawled from her palms, green electricity flashing through them and the pipe as they engulfed it. The rusted and broken metal turned pure white once completely taken over as from both ends rugged blades manifested from the feathers. The weapon felt heavy in her hands and her chest tightened at the sight of it, but a voice louder than any other spoke as that fluorescent green electricity rushed through its blades.
Innocence.
Red's monster spoke then as its feral smile split even tauter and cried even more.
"...pl...ease...kill...me…"
Celia's grip on the weapon tightened as tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn't want to. That thing...even when it didn't look it, it was Red. It recognized her.
It's not her, the voice muttered barely able to speak itself. She's chained to this world...unable to rest.
Unable...to rest?
Her grip tightened further as more feathers sprouted from the force of it. But even as her resolve came, she couldn't stop the tears that spilled as she took the weapon in both her hands and stood her ground as the monster charged while crying her name.
One shot from Judgement.
That was enough to destroy the Akuma and let Carmine's soul rest in peace. With the raging fire that now consumed the brothel and manor though, Cross managed to make out a small figure poised against the dead-end alley where he'd found the Earl's machine.
He approached it with Judgement at the ready but stopped short when he spotted the familiar brunette brat. Though bloodied, bruised, and barely conscious, there was no doubt that it was one of Carmine's many children. As the blazes of the fire roared not far behind, a sour thought came to mind.
The only one left more than likely.
The girl's coughing brought his attention back to her as she held her side with one hand and an odd double-bladed spear in the other.
"So it was Innocence, huh," he muttered.
Don't have the time for it.
Dull amethyst eyes focused on him as she barely managed to lift her head. Streaks of tears marred her face beyond the blood and bruises now that he got a better glimpse at her.
"...R...R-Red…"
"She's gone, kid," Cross assured her as he began unbuttoning his coat. "She's resting now."
She only managed a couple of heavy breathes before completely passing out. Though not his style, Cross couldn't very well leave the brat here. So instead he took her, wrapping her in his coat, and picked her up to take her to the nearest medic. As he rose however the loud clanging of her spear brought his gaze down to it as it clattered on the floor. He leaned over to retrieve it but before he could even touch it, the white that had made it gleam so splendidly dulled and became nothing but black rust that easily crumbled into dust.
It's gone?
A small shine from underneath his coat wrapping her told him where to look. Unwrapping her a bit, he only had to take her left hand to find the small cross gleaming from the inside of her wrist. The weapon breaking and her wrist shining brought some sense to the situation.
Crimson eyes narrowed on the cross as it dulled leaving behind only the remnants of what looked like a scar in its place. It can't be… Cross decided not to think of the matter for the moment, tucking the girl with his coat and taking her out of the alleyway to get her the treatment she needed.
Amethyst eyes shot wide open as a terrible horror struck her at waking. Rousing from the bed she slept on, her breathing came in heavy bouts as her brain began to function properly again. But it was hard to concentrate on anything in particular when nothing whatsoever looked familiar.
Where…?
"Oh, thank god you're awake." Celia's head spun towards the kind voice that spoke to find a young woman who looked to be a nurse walking into the tiny room she resided. "We weren't expecting you to wake for another day or two. It's quite a relief all the same. Now, let's see how you are, shall we?"
She paid her no mind as she went about checking her. Instead, she let her mind wander about what had happened before waking up. All at once what happened the night before struck her like a punch in the gut. The nurse immediately tried to console her when she spotted the tears that rolled down her cheeks but Celia didn't last long in her grief when she vaguely recalled the man that had saved her in the dead of night.
"Cross…"
"Mmm?"
"Cross!" she called out louder. "H-He's a grumpy redhead that smells of smoke and alcohol and has this strange pigeon with him!"
"Oh, you mean the gentleman who brought you here last night?"
"Yeah, yeah! Where is he?"
"I wouldn't know, darling," the nurse replied with a puzzled expression. "He came and left you in our care saying clergymen would come for you in three days." Clergymen? "Surely he must have meant the orphanage."
Celia's eyes widened at those words.
"...Orphanage?"
The nurse reacted then, almost as if she'd just realized how much she had let slip. The sudden puzzled expression from before changed into an unpleasant one that Celia did not like. Not in the least.
"I-I'm sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this but...your home—Madame Red's brothel is..."
"Stop right there, you mangy excuse of a priest!"
It worked. Celia didn't know how but the sudden outburst she let out the instant she spotted Cross just on the outskirts of town managed to stop him dead in his tracks. He donned a black hat that kept his face hidden but even with it there wasn't any hiding himself when he used such a gaudy coat with that fat ball floating around him.
Crimson eyes met amethyst as they glared up at him the moment she caught up to him. It was something easy to do frankly with the only thing holding her back being the simple change of clothes she snatched from the hospital. Now in front of the ever-elusive man, Celia didn't let her grieve take over her.
That was a job for her rage.
"You saved me," she said through gritted teeth.
"Yes, and you sounding rather displeased by the fact tells me I'm about to get an earful from a seven-year-old."
"You should've just let me die in that alley!" she shouted, unable to take his sarcasm now.
"You would've survived with or without my help, brat. Your fighting back was proof enough. I just happen to be around to expedite the process."
"Fighting back?! But I didn't want to fight back!" Her eyes pricked with the unshed tears that began to pool in them, but before they could spill over, she used that pain to hastily roll up her left sleeve. Once exposed, she shoved the scarred cross on the inside of her wrist towards him. "The only reason I did was because of this thing!"
"I am aware," he replied nonchalantly which only fed her anger. "And it's because of that that I called the clergymen."
"You didn't lie to the nurse then. You are a priest."
"Of sorts." Cross took a couple of steps to reach her before reaching the tailcoats of his coat to part it and show her his holstered gun. "That cross on your hand? It's called Innocence. It's a substance similar to my Judgement. It's a weapon."
Celia's eyes lost a bit of their fire as she glared at her scar before looking up and comparing it to the cross insignia on his gun. Though detailed differently, she could certainly see the similarities.
"And that thing that attacked you last night was an Akuma."
"A demon?"
"No, an Akuma. They're killing machines made up of a dead soul that was brought back possessing a living body."
A dead soul—Red—possessing a living body—Rosalia. It was crazy. Beyond crazy. Yet it made sense in a crazy kind of way too.
Calming down as the information sunk in her head, she let her wrist fall to her lap as what that meant sunk in as well.
"So it was Red then…who attacked everyone. It's because of her the manor is gone and everyone is..."
Cross looked at her for a second as her words trailed off before heaving a large sigh and crouching down in front of her. Noticing this, Celia lifted her gaze as the tears spilled once more from that final bit of information hitting her.
"Carmine wasn't in control anymore after that girl called out to her. They weren't at fault. And neither are you if you think you could've changed anything about the outcome."
But I could have…
"You...fight those things too?"
"I do. And a whole group of others does too. The clergymen I sent to the hospital for you will take you where they gather."
"Take me?"
"You can't stay here anymore." Cross tapped one finger against the cross on her wrist for emphasis. "Now that your Innocence has activated, it'll only attract more Akuma to you and even more people will suffer the same way the whole of the manor did. You'll need to go somewhere you'll be safe and where they'll be able to train you to fight against them. The Black Order will do that; they'll train you to be an Exorcist like me."
Exorcist...like him?
"Can't...can't you train me?"
"No can do," he said decidedly. "I don't take brats."
"Please!" Celia's desperate cries stopped him in his tracks and made him lock his gaze with hers. Though her amethyst eyes were still puffy from crying, no more tears fell after her exclamation. If anything, they shone with a determination that he wasn't aware she still had. "I'll be an Exorcist. I'll learn to fight and beat those things. I promise I will. But the only way I'll do it is if you train me, Cross! So please take me with you!"
Crimson narrowed and scrutinized the little girl for a moment before roughly taking her scarred wrist into his hand and showing it to her.
"This Innocence? I know it as well as my own. I know the kind of work, time, and sacrifice it takes to even begin to master it. Over at Headquarters, they'll give you that time. They'll see to your needs properly. I won't."
"But you said it yourself," Celia countered instantly, yanking her wrist away from his hold. "You know it as well as your own. Who better to teach me?"
"I won't go easy on you even if you're a brat."
"I can take it."
"You'll be crying by week's end to be sent to Headquarters if I train you."
"It'll be much less than what I've cried this whole day after what I saw was left of the manor and the others."
She wasn't letting up. She wouldn't let it up. Celia was determined to stand her ground. Either she would learn from the man that she came to know over the past year or she would refuse it altogether. There would be no in-between.
Cross looked at her for a moment longer before groaning and standing back up. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Amethyst eyes grew wide, a smile pulling at her lips at what his words meant. "And if you cry or complain a single time in front of me, I'll send you to them no questions asked."
"It won't happen, I promise."
"Don't promise things, kid. Not when you can't be sure that you'll keep your word. Now come on, the next station is in the town over and I've got a train to catch."
Springing to a jog, Celia followed behind Cross as he led the way out of town. Timcanpy flew around a few times before bouncing on the floor to wrap his tail around her waist and fly like a kite around her. It wasn't even a few minutes of them walking when a sudden thought invaded her mind.
"What should I call you?"
"Huh?" he called, already irritated enough about his whole predicament as it was. "What the hell do you mean?"
"I know your name's Cross Marian because of Madame but should I call you anything now that you're taking me up to train me? Like, I don't know, master or teacher?"
"Call me whatever you like. It won't last anyway."
Her cheeks puffed with annoyance but deflated to call out to him with, "Mangy priest."
"Alright, it's either name or title. No third option or else I'll kick you to the curb, brat."
"Cross then. And stop calling me 'brat', I have a name!"
"Not much of a name when it wasn't even one you remember."
That he said that caught her enough off guard to stop in her tracks with eyes wide as he stopped a few steps ahead to glance at her over his shoulder.
"How do you know?" she asked, her voice barely anything above a whisper.
"Carmine told me about finding you all battered and with memory loss to the extent that she had to name you herself." He tilted his head to one side when he saw hers fall dejected. "Just Celia, right?" She nodded just as sullenly. "Might as well pick a last name. You'll need it eventually."
Celia bit her bottom lip as she thought about it while staring at Timcanpy who was now sitting in front of her after having stopped.
"What was Red's name?"
"Red's?" Her nod made him avert his gaze for a moment before answering her. "Carmine Valentine."
Wringing her hands in each other, Celia pondered about it for a moment before asking, "Do you think...do you think it would be okay...if I took it after her?"
"What are you asking me for?" When that didn't seem to be the answer to get her walking, he groaned before choosing a different set of words. "You remember the day she found you?" Celia nodded perplexed. "Carmine told me that you guys chose that day to be your birthday since you didn't know yours. Do you remember what day that is?"
"February the 14th…"
"Do you know what people celebrate on that day?"
She shook her head fervently.
"Saint Valentine's." Amethyst eyes slowly widened at his words, a glint making them glimmer in the light of the day. "So if you're asking me whether it'd be okay, I'd say Carmine gave it to you when she took you into the manor."
A warmth swelled in her chest at that, her hands cradling against her bosom as she repeated the words. Celia Valentine. A small smile came to her lips which soon bubbled to laughter when Timcanpy bumped against her with a dumb grin splitting his face. Wrapping her arms around the fat ball and picking him up, Celia smiled back at Cross.
"Then...Celia Valentine. That's—That's who I'll be from now on!"
Cross scoffed before giving her his back to continue on their way. Celia tightened her grip on Timcanpy who licked at her cheek before running to catch up with her new teacher.
It would take 4191 days for 'Celia Valentine' to follow in her footsteps and die.
A/N:
*deep breath* I have very bad influences as friends xD they egged me on and i can't say i resisted much. I know what a bad idea it is to start a new story but i also got stuck after writing that big ass update for TM. I had two other stories to write for, both of the same fandom and I just didn't feel like writing for them just yet. I needed a mix of more fantasy in this bunch of stories and since i still have loads of work to do on the KH one, I decided to start the retcon of this old one.
I think DGM has the right balance of fantasy and action that I feel like writing sometimes and that's something i'm looking forward to. For those of you who're new, welcome :D Hope you enjoyed this first chapter of PM. To those who come over from N:O:oU and Reconnect, welcome back! Some things will be familiar here while a great deal will be plenty new!
All things considered i think/hope everybody can enjoy it. So here it is! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter and stay tuned for the future updates!
Have yourselves a good night/day!
*Evie signing out~*