The First Age

She was quiet. Her gaze did not search the stranger, but fled inwards to examine the depths of her own self. Something flared dark at the offer; the same resistance she had experienced when Kiyohito pushed the money across the bar.

“Six years,” she said. “And only the second time I have touched it. Better to kill me and have done, sister. You ask me to become a monster. And yet to my shame, I wish to live.”

She considered that it might yet be a trap. Trust did not come smoothly, but there was something else too, like stirred dust in the bottom of her heart. When Kiyohito refused her offer of aid, it had burned surprisingly sharp for all that she accepted his will with demurity. Kōta’s amusement in her had not been unfounded, only misplaced. It was purpose that drew her, and fear that cut the line the moment she recalled what she was. She knew what a god might be capable of. At the time she had felt relief to be free of the quandary, yet it had left her unmoored in a place far from the anonymity she favoured.

Live, her brother urged her. This was not even close to what he meant. He spoke of happiness, not of duty. But the first was for dreamers and the innocent, of which she was neither. Eido lived for Kōta, and sometimes that was all, though she had never admitted as much to him. She was not sure the stranger could possibly understand, even if Eido had words capable of expressing it. It was not protection she desired. She did not deserve to be free.

What she did not know, and what gave her the longest pause, was to wonder if the woman beside her was a temptress or a saviour.

“I have my own condition,” she said eventually. “I have never hurt anyone with it. I have avoided every situation I thought might bring the curse out in me again, even as it meant breaking my vows and laying down my arms. I do not know what a god’s power will make of me, or if I will be able to control it. If it corrupts me, you must promise to do what I have not. Promise me that, senpai, and I am yours as you will it.”

Zef chuckled at the condition and the will to live. The reason all of the fold fail to do the honorable thing. Yet now it is time to embrace their differences and bring to helm what was once done. The tales tell of working with other gods to bring the other's down. And it must be so again.

"You are already the monster we profess to abhor. Help me eradicate others of your kind. Their power is great, we need to even the odds. I won't ask you to hurt innocents with your power. But protecting your and my life is paramount, and that of family. And in the end should it come to pass I will end that which you cannot.". Family was important. And if a life insider should be of the gods all the better. And all the more fruitful. She had to fix Jaxen's issue and then she intended to take what he owed. Though it would be willingly given, and a little force wouldn't hurt either of them any.

"My name is Zephyr Lelantos. What should I call you, if you won't reveal who you are to me?" She gave her new friend her hand and a smile. "We might need to file some of that rust from your from. Do you have a place to stay?"

A monster held in check by chains was not the same thing as one who embraced what made them monstrous, yet chastened by the correction Eido lowered her face. A monster was indeed still a monster. Of the importance of her own life in this new equation she said nothing; if she professed the desire to live, it was not because she placed value on it, but rather it was a confession of selfishness. Weakness. The kind of shame that stained. But for now she packed such feelings away. The stranger’s own oath loosened a weight Eido had been carrying a long time, and for that she was unfathomably grateful. She finally shifted to place her kaiken away, and turned for the first time to properly look at the woman beside her. The hand gave her pause. Eido often felt a smaller thing than human, unworthy of the kinship, yet the ritualistic nature of the words spoken reverberated deep. After a small hesitation she shook it.

“You can call me Eido.” She grimaced a half-smile, mostly for the flame of sharp pain in her side as she moved. It was easy to ignore, and with any luck she could tend to it before Kōta returned to their shared room, but it had been many years since she had been in the position to take injury. She kept herself fit, but it was not the same thing; what reflexes might serve to keep her beyond reach of men like Gus did not serve so faithfully against creatures of the shadow. “More than a little rust,” she agreed, nodding too that she did have a place to stay. Her mind tumbled back, though; back to memories old. She had little cause to dwell on the past, and refused to speak about it with her brother.

“I grew up rural. In the mountains we used naginata, and trained birds to scout terrain ahead. But it is not a city weapon; too hard to conceal. I trained too in tantojutsu – knife fighting. But I no longer have the weapons. Only the kaiken, but that is meant for the vein.” It was a factual account of her skills, but there was a softness in her voice too. She offered herself like a weapon, hilt-first to the woman who would choose to wield her for a greater purpose. Reservations were buried deep. For now there was relief “Do you have family, Zephyr Lelantos? Someone you must protect?” Though it was not a point on which she would press too hard, for the same reason she had not yet named nor spoken specifically of her own brother. Eido did not think the Atharim here had changed so greatly for Zephyr's view to be widely held, else Kōta would have enacted upon his intention to accept the Custody's amnesty. She thought of Kiyohito's brother then, and of Zixin Kao's far too knowing goad, and of the risks one would take to protect the ones they loved.

Zef nodded at the proffered hand and shook firmly noting her gentle demeanor, they'd have to work on that perhaps. But not now. Trust was important. She'd remember the name. "Give me a list of gear you'd prefer and I'll requisition it. We'll have to find someplace off the proverbial grid, so you stay under the radar. I'll need a way of getting in touch with you."

At the askance of family in need of protection Zef almost reached for the potential, but she stayed her hand opting to wave the girl forward towards the street and back into the world where they could walk and talk. "My brother is in Greece, though he is in no need of protection. But one day, soon I hope, there will be a life in which I will devote my life to. My families legacy to be carried on as it were." Generation up on generation of the Atalantia line and it was with in her body to fulfil not only the death of the gods, but the continuance of her own line. A line in which she intended to be fraught with the power of the gods so that they could end them again. A morbid doom for her own, but still it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. It would take generations to eradicate the children of the gods even in their infancy. The power was only just resurrected, but the could stem the bleed before it became monumental. They only had to have the tools to do so -- willing allies, trained and learned of the same views. Knowing their sacrifice and that of their kin.

Eido stood and followed, pulling her jacket back around her shoulders. “Of course, senpai,” she murmured. “I use a burner phone. It can suffice for now.” She considered what she was going to tell her brother; what he would even make of it, her placing so much trust in a stranger. He was dauntless, and a little reckless himself sometimes, so she did not think he’d falter if he believed it was truly what she had chosen. But he would not like the promise Zephyr had made, or that Eido had asked it of her. She studied the other woman from the corner of her eye; the strength, purpose, and confidence. But a soft frown threatened as she contemplated the second answer, and what she considered it might really mean. A child born into such servitude? It certainly sounded as though it was what Zephyr meant. But in reality it was little different than Eido’s own upbringing; her family had belonged to Atharim for generations, and she had always known the weight of expectation upon her future. Still, it made her melancholy. Would she have chosen such service herself, had she ever had the choice? Truthfully she had never paused to consider it. Absent that duty, she had only ever experienced a half-life.

“And that is why you desire the protection? Our world is a dangerous one for a child. I will protect you both, as well as I may.” She said it formally. Meant it too. It settled some of her conflicts, and reassured as to the core of Zephyr’s motivations. Since there was no mention of a father she did not pry, though presumably he could be no hunter if Zephyr was tonight alone, else maybe she grazed in a more unconventional manner. The woman was a veritable lioness, but a child was something else. And the slash of the vetala’s claws had taken her right across the stomach. Eido would never have children of her own, and if she had any feelings on the prohibition she gave them a very wide berth, but she finally felt she understood why Zephyr would take the risk on her. It softened some of her guard.

Zef smiled at the vow and would hold the girl to it. Zef pulled a simple card from her sleeve and handed it to Eido. "My number, send me your list of equipment and I'll find a place to file some of that rust off. And if you desire to clear your name and honor with in the organization I need to know the name by which you'd be in the system. I am about to set a plan into motion and that could be a small benefit of your vow." She didn't say that it all hinged on a boy and his hacker friend. A boy who would likely try to kill her the moment she stepped foot in his field of vision. Though perhaps not on his turf -- someplace neutral. Perhaps the scientist might be of use she seemed keen on keeping the boy alive and garnering his trust.

[[ anything you wanted to do here more? I don't know if either of us intended this lol ]]

Eido took the contact card. Its simplicity reminded her of the one Kiyohito had given her earlier that same evening. She had been reluctant to make that connection; unwilling to accept a debt she did not feel entitled to hold over another, especially for something so small and willingly given. Yet only a few hours later, she was binding her very being to another. Her fingers ran over the sharp edges as she placed it in her pocket.

“I will,” she said simply. She felt no particular love of the hunt. It was the things to be protected which stirred her to action.

Which was perhaps why her mind kept tugging her backwards, to linger upon a situation in which she had no right to intervene, yet sat like lead in her stomach when she considered the conversation she had overheard.

“My life is in your hands. I trust you with it. But I must speak with another before I reveal the name I was born with. It is not my place to take that risk for them.” Though she did not state it outright, it was quite clear she must mean a relative. There would be no honour to be had in scrubbing their names from the system, but Kōta had walked away from Kyoto without permission. Eido’s identity was ash and dust, officially recorded as dead six years ago. But his might yet come to haunt him.

She and Zephyr parted ways soon after.

---

She used the window to enter their room above the bar. It was still dark within, and Eido saw quietly and diligently to her own injuries. A long cut split the skin over her ribs where the vetala’s claws had kissed, but it was not worryingly deep, just a stinging sort of pain. Her wrist felt tender too, but that would likely pass in a few days. She had been lucky, all told. Lucky someone else had been hunting the creature. Afterwards she tidied after herself and cleaned up the mess. Kōta did not need to know. It would only distract him from what she had to say.

She slept then. Given the smallness of the room, it was often their routine to rotate shifts, and she did not expect her brother returned before sunrise on a hunt night. In the early morning she rose, wincing for the stiffness lingering in her limbs – for a moment surprised, before the memories of last night surfaced. She cared for the animal in its cage, then set about tea and breakfast. The raised murmuring of voices downstairs preceded the stomp of boots up the stairs. In the threshold Kōta bent to shuck them from his feet, face a mask that spoke of sour disposition. Eido eyed him from the kitchen counter.

“If that look is about Gus, it was a misunderstanding, Onii-san.”

She watched him scowl to himself at her formality, ripping at his laces. “This look is for the gokudō who accepted our hospitality and then slid money across the bar for you, Chihiro!”

“That was the misunderstanding. And you should not use that name,” she said as she loaded the tray to bring to their table. Small bowls of steamed rice and miso soup. Kōta rarely regarded the Yakuza with anything but respect, and the slur was unusual for him. What Gus must have said she could not fathom, but she did not think Kōta had done anything regrettable down there. Or it was quiet in the bar below, at least. She eyed her brother with half a frown.

By now Kōta had won his battle with his footwear and closed the door behind him. He favoured his arm, but a glance over the rest of him found no cause for alarm. His own gaze narrowed though as she moved past him with the tray. Dark hair ghosted either side of her cheeks, but there was a graze on her cheek she had only noticed this morning, probably from where the vetala had grappled her against the wall, seeking to force her to release her knife. Barely more than a scrape.

“He did that?”

“Of course not,” she said easily, depositing the bowls, and lowering herself to the table. There was no ceremony between them, and though she waved her hand that he join her, she would not wait for him to decide whether he was going to churlishly cling instead to the winds of an argument. He sighed deeply. Unhappily. But in this calm mood Eido was difficult to argue with, and they both knew it. “Eat a little. Perhaps it will improve your mood some.” She offered the kind of smile only shared between siblings, eyes a little slitted. With Kōta she was relaxed. Teasing even. In his company was perhaps the only time she ever felt close to human; to the spectre of her past, else the woman she might have grown to be. But though they were close, they did not live in each other’s pockets. The spheres of their worlds were vastly different. So she valued their shared mealtimes.

He relented ungracefully. Or was perhaps just hungry. For a while they ate in silence, though clearly he ruminated on the questions he could ply. She spoke first, though.

“Onii-san, we should talk before you sleep.”

[[continued at Datsuzoku]]