[she is so curious about all of this, and because she's rude and doesn't care if he doesn't want to talk about it, she just barrels forward with her questions.]
What is it like to have a sibling? [a beat.] Are you half human?
[she remembers him talking about the mountain, and when he brings it up, she frowns. folds her arms. it's an abhorrent thing, she thinks, to raze a mountain, to destroy someone's home. it doesn't matter who it belonged to. it's why she stands by what she said - if the humans responsible for destroying the mountains died, she's not sorry about it.]
And you lost everything. [she says, after a moment, watching him. there's not pity, really, she's not pitying him, but there's empathy. empathy and understanding for a child that was abandoned, a child that had everything stolen from them.]
I wonder how much you have destroyed since then. I only ask because I don't think I would've been able to contain myself.
[he almost prefers pity. if it's pity, then he has a reason to lash out (even if that reason would be bad).
he doesn't understand empathy, even now. but it feels familiar. it reminds him of their very first conversation. he wonders if shenhe would still extend that understanding if she knew the whole truth.
a part of him wants to know.]
...I killed them all. [but] And I didn't want to stop. I killed humans who had nothing to do with it too, village after village. I killed so many that my brother finally came back to me, just to put me down.
I imagine that even if they had nothing to do with you, they would not have hesitated. [this is SUCH a huge assumption, but most of the humans she's met are garbage towards things they don't understand, so she thinks it's valid. like she's not thrilled that he killed a bunch of people but whatever, it's not like she can change what he did, and it's not like she would've stopped him.]
the way he's like that's exactly what i tell myself too after i killed them. humans have always hurt him first. if anything, they were the ones who started it. since birth, and then beyond. and even now.]
...He killed me.
[then, with a crooked smile]
He tried to, at least. And then he walked away. A human was the one who saved me after, actually. But by saving me, he turned it into a debt I can never repay. Even now, I'm bound to that human. Everything he orders me to do, I have to carry out.
[there is a beat of surprise, then he laughs. it's not his usual sardonic jeer, or mocking laughter. just the startled laughter of someone who is still getting surprised by the only person they've called their friend,]
It does. I can't be there when he does though, or he'll just make me protect him.
[he doesn't think it's possible, but. talking about the possibility doesn't feel as bad as he thought it would,]
Hmph. Horrors. You're not scary enough for horrors.
[lmao] You're right. It should always be your decision. No matter what it is.
[i will not pin you down, she'd said, a million years ago. it's still true. and she's going to say more, it's just that a pig comes screaming by.
You are sitting in the garden of your childhood home, in a little village that you've grown up in. You are six years old, and your father has been away for a year, though you're not sure why. It makes you sad, sometimes, when you think about it. Your mother is gone, and the village takes turns making sure that you aren't starving, but for the most part, you're just alone, making up stories and playing with the stray dogs in the village. It's lonely. You're very lonely.
So when your father returns after that year, and he gives you a smile that borders on manic, you don't notice how it looks. You're overjoyed - father is back, and maybe this time, he won't leave. Maybe this time your curse won't drive him away. You can be good this time. You will find a way to make sure that you don't hurt him or anybody else ever again. Maybe he's forgiven you for what happened to your mother. Maybe he's forgiven you for being a curse.
He doesn't even wash up, when he returns. He comes straight to the garden and smiles widely at you, and says that you should come with him to the cave in the mountains behind the village. He has a surprise for you, to make up for the fact that he hasn't been home. You don't really hope for much, but. A toy would be nice! Maybe a kite, or something that the two of you can play with together.
Your father brings you to the cave. You make sure your long black hair is out of the way, ready for whatever the surprise is.
But he barely even pays attention to you as he strides into the cave. He goes right to the altar in the middle, constructed out of stone, and he flicks through a book, and he mutters. And you take a step forward because you're unsure. Maybe you should help? You take another step forward, and then - out of the book swirls something dark and hideous, a black and rotting creature that has no shape at first as it crawls out. It drips out of the book, and your father turns and starts to walk away.
You're confused - you're a little scared, so you say, "Father?" and he ignores you, and so you look back at the shadows that soak down out of the pages, and you see it is growing teeth. It is watching you with bright blood-red eyes, and when it meets your gaze, it licks its lips.
You stumble back, and you start to cry - you are six years old, and this is the scariest thing you've ever seen - and you turn and race after your father. This isn't what he meant, right? This can't be the surprise - but he pushes you to the ground and sneers at you.
"You are a cursed child," he spits, and you stare up at him from where you're crumpled on the ground. You reach for him. No, it - no, this time, it'll be better. This time you won't bring ruin to everybody around you, you promise, you will find a way to be good, but he just shakes his head and keeps walking. "Your life brings nothing but disaster to us all."
You stand, shakily, and run, but something grabs your leg, and you scream as the monster drags you back. Your father leaves.
"At least if you die, I can bring her back." And the light from outside vanishes as the monster pulls you towards it's mouth.
But as a child - a child who hasn't grown up just yet, a child who hasn't forsaken emotion and the joys of living because you know that you aren't allowed those anymore - you don't want to die. You want to play outside, and you want to make friends with the other children in the village, and you want your mother back, and you want your father to love you, and you don't want to die you don't want to die you want to live --
The sleeping calamitous fates, violent urges, and unyielding spirit within you burst their bonds all at once. They are your unseen shield, your invisible blade, and they are all that your frail form has to protect yourself. You have a dagger that belonged to your mother. Instinct has you cut open part of the monster and it wails, and you run to hide. Your next attack is with fangs and claws; you swear to tear that wretched creature before you to shreds — to prove that you, and not it, are the cruelest evil that stalked the darkness.
For days, your life-and-death battle is one without end. Hunter and hunted switch places many times, the conflict locked in stalemate. Sometimes it rips at your skin and sometimes it just chases you when it finds you. Sometimes you beat it back just enough to find some time to rest. But you are exhausted. You can't sleep. You're hungry, and you're thirsty, and everything hurts, but you don't want to die. You refuse. You won't. But there's only so much that your tiny body can handle, and eventually, you collapse. You're afraid. You know it is coming, the monster, with its snakelike body and hungry maw. But you can't find the strength to continue.
And that's when the tide changes.
A vivid icy light pierces through the dark like skyglow, showing the path to the future. A crystalline object falls down from nowhere, into your hands. You look down at it shakily, trying to breathe. You know, instinctively, that this will allow you to wield ice. That you can use this to decide which monster will live, and which will die.
You pull yourself to your feet one more time. You wipe the tears away.
It's the last time you ever cried. It's the last time you felt anything at all.
Rang watches the memory play out in his mind's eye -- he recognizes the story immediately from what little Shenhe's told him.
but as expected, a tale from an opera is no comparison to the real thing. There's a difference between hearing Shenhe recount it in her calm manner, and then seeing the Shenhe of this story -- driven by desperation and hope, fear, rage. And then, nothing. No emotion at all. He notes the color of her hair -- it was black from tip to end once, the tears he's never seen Shenhe shed even when she arrived here. Everything she lost in that cave, everything she gained in return.
but gaining doesn't erase the loss in the first place. he should know.]
I hate snakes. [FIRST OF ALL] And I still hate your father as much as I did when you told me your story.
[she laughs - just a huff, a heh, at his comment about snakes. yeah. her too.]
Lambda told me that she would not blame me if I wanted to hurt him. [she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.] I don't. But I do think that the longer I am here, the more I am growing to hate what he did to me.
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What is it like to have a sibling? [a beat.] Are you half human?
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there's an even longer pause for a moment then,]
My mother was human, and my father was a fox -- the same father I share with my brother, who's a pureblood.
...He took me in when he didn't have to, and treated me as his family. For a time. Then he left the mountain, and the humans burned it down after.
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And you lost everything. [she says, after a moment, watching him. there's not pity, really, she's not pitying him, but there's empathy. empathy and understanding for a child that was abandoned, a child that had everything stolen from them.]
I wonder how much you have destroyed since then. I only ask because I don't think I would've been able to contain myself.
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he doesn't understand empathy, even now. but it feels familiar. it reminds him of their very first conversation. he wonders if shenhe would still extend that understanding if she knew the whole truth.
a part of him wants to know.]
...I killed them all. [but] And I didn't want to stop. I killed humans who had nothing to do with it too, village after village. I killed so many that my brother finally came back to me, just to put me down.
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I imagine that even if they had nothing to do with you, they would not have hesitated. [this is SUCH a huge assumption, but most of the humans she's met are garbage towards things they don't understand, so she thinks it's valid. like she's not thrilled that he killed a bunch of people but whatever, it's not like she can change what he did, and it's not like she would've stopped him.]
And what happened with your brother?
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...
the way he's like that's exactly what i tell myself too after i killed them. humans have always hurt him first. if anything, they were the ones who started it. since birth, and then beyond. and even now.]
...He killed me.
[then, with a crooked smile]
He tried to, at least. And then he walked away. A human was the one who saved me after, actually. But by saving me, he turned it into a debt I can never repay. Even now, I'm bound to that human. Everything he orders me to do, I have to carry out.
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Does that debt end if the human dies? [asking for a friend.]
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It does. I can't be there when he does though, or he'll just make me protect him.
[he doesn't think it's possible, but. talking about the possibility doesn't feel as bad as he thought it would,]
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I would kill him for you. [folds her arms.] You should not be in the servitude of someone else.
[goes to look for a memshare to throw back at you]
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...I'd probably be more dangerous if I was set free. [but the tone of his voice doesn't sound very convinced on it,]
But our fates should be up to us, right? Whatever horrors I commit -- it should be solely mine, so that I don't have someone else to blame.
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[lmao] You're right. It should always be your decision. No matter what it is.
[i will not pin you down, she'd said, a million years ago. it's still true. and she's going to say more, it's just that a pig comes screaming by.
and shenhe sighs, bringing a hand to her face.]
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Rang watches the memory play out in his mind's eye -- he recognizes the story immediately from what little Shenhe's told him.
but as expected, a tale from an opera is no comparison to the real thing. There's a difference between hearing Shenhe recount it in her calm manner, and then seeing the Shenhe of this story -- driven by desperation and hope, fear, rage. And then, nothing. No emotion at all. He notes the color of her hair -- it was black from tip to end once, the tears he's never seen Shenhe shed even when she arrived here. Everything she lost in that cave, everything she gained in return.
but gaining doesn't erase the loss in the first place. he should know.]
I hate snakes. [FIRST OF ALL] And I still hate your father as much as I did when you told me your story.
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Lambda told me that she would not blame me if I wanted to hurt him. [she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.] I don't. But I do think that the longer I am here, the more I am growing to hate what he did to me.