The Killing Name

[Lillith]

Lilith tore her gaze away from a line of meiko wobbling through the crowd that celebrated the new night’s revelry with rice wine and precariously waved lanterns. She smiled weakly, forgetting what she was here for. Though she no longer appeared Akashiman, her heart sung true whenever she walked the streets of Capitol City or traversed the Comb Mountains. No matter how many times she changed her face, this was her home.

“I will convene with the Senate to see their approval for the emissary. It will not take long, but soliciting the services of an ona-san, a house mistress, will take much more effort.” She pointed at the meiko. “A disguise will be our only hope of getting you two into the haven.”

“We get make-up?” Shinsou frowned. Philomel smiled.

“What about you Lilith?” The faun twitched her ears with excitement.

“Lye knew my face, but recent events have worked in our favour. He won’t know it’s me until the tanto is in his heart.” It was a vain hope, given the man they were dealing with and his proclivity for masterminding chaos. “I also need to speak to the Spirit-Warder Consul. We can’t take too many citizens, if it goes awry, the only blood to be spilled will be of those willing to fight.”

“Won’t a small procession raise suspicion?” Shinsou showed his doubts on his furrowed brow.

Lilith smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be small. I shall meet you both at the Outlander’s Post in the Okiya district. Do you remember where I showed you the cherry blossoms around the lake?” She lingered just long enough to seek their mutual acknowledgement, then darted away into the crowd at the tail of the meiko’s delicate weaving through the festival.

With every step, a smell or sound or snippet of Akashiman brought back memories. Since she had sung the Last Song with her siblings, the trappings of her former lives threatened to overwhelm her. She longed to be someone she was no longer. Everyone knew who she was, and those who forgot would only need to lay eyes on the tanto at her waists to recall what she had done to save Akashima. She cleared the procession and broke into a cluttered street of moss and shattered wine vats. Her clunky boots echoed footsteps in her wake.

“You’re late.”

Lilith froze. Crab and Spider appeared in her hands, the flaps on her trapper hat wobbling side to side as she took to a defensive stance. Her eyes pierced the gloom to seek out her stalker.

“You’re supposed to be laying low.” She eased off and sheathed her blades. “Did you speak to the Consul?”

A nekojin, with whom Lilith had a relation closer to a brother than a disciple appeared out of the gloom. The blackened armour on his limbs danced with moonlight, and his tail flicked eagerly behind him. He bowed, and Lilith returned the custom with a kanji of greeting. It burnt momentarily, then fizzled into embers.

“They will hear your plea as soon as you have taken tea with Madam Tsuko.”

“Shit. Is she the only one who would consider our requisition?”

“Oh. She was paid off the other okiya’s to have you all to herself.” Neko smiled a toothy grin.

With a sour expression the assassin forged on, the spirit-warder hot on her heels as they wove through the bac alleys and came quickly to the northern okiya. Walled houses and tiled roofs veiled in swirls of smoke painted a picture of young girls sold and stolen away into the tradition of a Geisha. When she turned eight, her father sold her to an okiya in this very district. She had been unruly, as many were, and kicked out onto the streets of Capitol City. Only by good fortune’s grace had she been taken in by a visiting Scara Braen family and taken away to her home from home. Forever torn between two worlds, Lilith thought it ironic to have come full circle.

“Here we are. Are you going to join me?” Lilith slowed down beneath a pair of cherry blossoms tied together and grown into an arch before the grandest okiya in the district. Inside she pictured the sour expression of the very woman who had been unable to tame her centuries ago. Waiting. Gleefully, to put Kazumi in her place.

Neko scoffed. “Good god, no. I’d rather duel to the death with Lord Johan.”

“I didn’t think you would. Still…I will join you at the Consul when I am done.” She skipped up the stepping stones and took off her geta before knocking on the door. A light flickered on behind the paper panels and a chorus of commands in Akashiman foretold of a cold welcome.

Neko watched his teacher disappear inside and smiled. He waited just long enough to ensure a riot hadn’t broken out before he leapt up into the trees and took a nekojin’s path to the Shogun’s Palace. Before dawn, there was much to be done, and he was all too glad that a modern Akashima never slept.

[Philomel]

As the seemingly immortal geisha swirled her way into the confines of her city's government, the swathes of her kimono moving like murmurations of swallows, the Matriarch faun twisted her way back to stare at Shinsou. The words of the idea of disguise and traditional dress still on her lips, Philomel smiled, staring at him. Standing tall, shoulders back, the leader of the Brotherhood looked slightly dismayed - a look that made Philomel have to bite back a laugh. As the glitterings of light from the thousand lanterns caught the gold flecks of his hair she addressed him. Behind her Delath raised his nose to the air, taking in long draughts of the sweet scents, his appearance causing some stir to the residents. Else, the bravest children were shoving their kin and peers forwards, daring each to be the first to approach the mighty, brave dragon.

Taking a moment the faun paused, trying her best to think how to address her next concerns to her friend.

"I need to talk to you about something serious, Shinsou," she said uneasily.

Immediately the Telgradian's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

Taking in a breath she began:

"Pride aside, Shinsou," she said, referring back to his recent speech, "What comes after Ulroke's death will come. What might be of the Crimson Hand, whether it fades back into nothingness ... Or Maddison returns, I do not know. But I want to make certain that one thing is taken care of if the worst happens."

Carefully she looped back a strand of hair behind her tapered ear, the tip of which flickered as she heard Delath grumble. Apparently one of the young Akashiman children had finally gained to extend a finger to his hardened flesh. One glance over made her smile lightly as she saw the wingless dragon breathe a blast of smoke to the gasping crowd. Scrabbling back the one who had dared let out a squeal like a frightened mouse.

"Beyond how powerful I may have become over the years," Philomel said quietly, looking back over to her ally, "This mission will be one of the most daring and dangerous I have ever faced. . Our minds being in the same place on this I want to ask you something ... Request something."

She paused, straightened her back as the hazel-eyed man simply gazed back with surprising patience.

"If I die in the coming days, Shinsou, I want my body taken back to the place where I met Veridian. If he is alive he can show you where it is. If he is dead then ask Vaeron. If he is not available ... Then ask my brother."

The man opened his mouth to talk, "Philomel I think this is rather -"

"It is not over exaggerating," she sighed. "This /might/ happen. Ulroke is not a man to be underwhelmed - he is even more powerful since he returned and brought the Crimson Hand back from the silence it was. He was once a good man of sorts ... Or perhaps I was worse, nevertheless, he has grown possessed by and obsessed with his shadows. Dark shadows," she paused, realising her voice was rising. The warrior before her, all clad in his glorious armour seemed rather concerned, but she shook her head and went on. Quietly. "Dark shadows that are disturbing and will easily kill. Even with Mao now my power can not overwhelm him. And I will sacrifice myself if that is what it takes for others to survive."

She saw him glance over to the rabbit, perched high upon the grumbling dragon's head. Curiousity was in his eyes and he seemed observant of her brief mention that Mao had some form of power. It made Philomel smile - for he was directly connected to the small creature.

"Mao came to me just after the battle in the cavern of crystal," she told him. "She was drawn by the power of the sword that I got from there. Though she does not share the mental connection to Delath, Veridian and I she can mimick any of our powers."

Her eyes slowly moved back to fix on his, her voice now soft. "Delath will protect her in the case of my death. He and Veridian know to take her to my daughter. I have already set plans in place for Celandine to be prepared for eventual command of the Gilded Lily, with Gosling and Vaeron guiding her until she is old enough." She sighed and stretched, "Sorry. This is probably very bleak for you."

He shook his head slightly. "If it comes to it, I will respect your wishes." Though he frowned with the thought of her death, and having to hold her corpse. Rather than her furry legs. Close to his naked body.

"Thank you," she said with a sigh. "Until then, you should perhaps go join our friend. I need to head into the city. I have a brothel here that I have influence over and have a couple of friends here in mind who might help us."

"Of course you do," he said without a hint of surprise in his voice. "Though do not be long. I shall see you at the harbour."

Her eyes narrowed at him a moment, but then she nodded, turning around to head for Delath. As the dragon saw her coming he stopped his puffing smoke at the now giggling children and lowered his head towards her.

"As you wish, commander," she drawled a reply, mock-saluting Shinsou even with her back to him.

Easily she ascended onto the back of Delath, the point where his neck became back an ideal nestle there. Though far larger than her mount tera'k the dragon seemed to suit her better, their colour close and their temperaments familiar. There was a dash of bright red colour and Veridian soon sprinted from his hiding place where he had been hunting food, a hot pie in his jaws. Cries of annoyance came from a stall owner, a fist raised in the air as the fox leapt up behind Philomel. Shocked looks and a chittering noise and Shinsou was subject to the sight of the four compatriots spinning around. A thump of a tail, a laugh and a wave and they were hurrying off, away from the governmental buildings.

Away from her friends. Onwards into the city upon the back of an earth dragon with a whip-like tail.

Through the festival they ran, curdling up gasps and cheers as those they passed either feared or loved them. A dragon was what Delath was, and in part dragons were dear to these people - but perhaps not those born of rock. Instead air and fire meant more to them, and between the flickering lanterns and the calm streams that small bridges extended over Delath and his charges made a scene. He roared little but ran much, scarring a few fenceposts with minor scratches and smashing down a pole or two. Philomel mentally notes to pay those storeowners back later.

The thick scents of frankincense hung in the air as they thundered into the more commonplace geisha region. Doors and shutters were drawn back from store fronts displaying the entrances to various coffee houses and brothels. Sweet music hummed outwards, seductively echoing tunes that could pull a passerby into a false sense of security, those intriguing notes that are disturbing yet warming to the soul. Bright colours announced the various houses, calling out to the passersbys - but not to the dragon and his riders. Even though he slowed to a leisurely pace, the pathways becoming thinner and the amount of things to destroy more numerous, he still did not come to a complete halt. Instead he followed the urgings of his faun, she who he regarded as much as kin as his now distant-memory egg-mates. Gently she made him ever carefully forwards, her own eyes alight with wonder as they drank in the glory and excitement of the festival.

"Madama-san!" Came a gasp.

There stood a painted woman, lips ruby red and eyes extended with thin black lines. A rare heart-shaped beauty spot was angled on her cheek, black against the white foundation. On her body she wore the restrictive formal kimono, stern bow to the back, wide band of ribbon encircling her waist and small wooden clogs - geta - on her feet.

Delath screeched to a halt, claws raking slightly on the stoney ground. Quickly, Philomel slipped from his back, petting him briefly but her eyes for the woman who had stopped them in the centre of the street. Still a fair distance from the brothel where they had been headed.

"Sakura!" Philomel gasped, rushing forwards to greet the geisha. "I didn't expect you to be here!"

The Akashiman glanced from the faun to her companions. She nodded a little in recognition to the fox on the back of the dragon, who curtly returned the gesture. Recognition fluttered between the two. Memories of an old friendship, an old adventure now many years in the past.

"Neither I, you, Madama," Sakura said in a warming tone, looking back to Philomel. "I have not been in the city long." Smiling, she held out a hand to grasp that of the faun. "But how glad I am to see you. Both of you ... All of you!"

"And we you," Philomel couldn't help but grin broadly. "Oh my dear friend," she held Sakura's hand tight. "How fortunate we are that you have moved from the country here. You are just who we might need!"

Sakura, the geisha who had never been quite part of the Gilded Lily but always a friend should the need arise, tilted her head. "Oh?" She asked.

Philomel nodded, her smile fading a little. "Indeed," she mused, "You see I am here with others. To ask your government's help to end the life of a tyrant."

Quietly the geisha regarded her. Last time Philomel had seen this woman the two of them had been fighting their way out of a Scara Brae hell-hole. At that time the faun had been heavily pregnant, and Sakura had helped her later to give birth. Sakura was one of the only people who had known all these years about the truth about Celandine.

"I know you, and I trust you, Madama," Sakura said quietly. "You are full of honour, and you would not ask for my help if this was not a thing of honour." Again she clasped Philomel's hand. "I will help you. And your friends. Tell me, what do you need?"