She hadn't moved since the last time words parted her lips. She didn't smile when he finally met her gaze. That was not what the moment needed. But she softened. As his sword hand slipped down, she bowed acknowledging the peace between them.

„What you've already done, was the first step.“ Her hand moved back inside her robes. The bowl still sat empty, but the surface broken. Something lingering. „You named them.“ She knew better than to approach further. „Gave the Forest a taste of fear.“ Her voice stayed low.

„There are others in Sonshan with curses. With rot.“ Like it was sad. But it wasn't. It was delicious. „Forests of their own.“ She took the chain that once failed to bind and pocketed it back. It would not fail today.

„We find the tortured. Cut their Forests.“ Fingers tapped the surface of the table. „Name.“ Tap. „By name.“ Tap. „Forest.“ Tap. „By Forest.“ She felt her own boon grow stronger in surge of approval. The path was right.

„You carry a Forest. I carry the Mouth.“

„Together, we may yet starve the dark.“
 
The woman spoke in ominous riddles and Hawkflesh sat upright to look at her.

"You mean I have to kill people."
Again.

For all his talk of how it made things easier in some ways Hawkflesh had rarely killed anyone since Plumhollow and even before that his run in with the Greencloaks has given him pause.

It was a heavy ask. What would be the point in it?
"Until your mouth is big enough to eat my curse."

The room became deathly still again and the silence sweeled with tension. He did not like it but he had never been this close, or at least it had never felt this close before. An end to it.

"If you are tricking me, I will kill you. I want my life back not to trade one affliction for another."

@Kuuga
 
His threat hummed with the hunger of Peace. One of her life ending, and another of his curse lifting. She always worried about there being no one to continue the great work once she was gone, but fear wasn't the word for it. Because Kuuga herself wasn't important in the grand scheme of things. She was simply a vessel of divine will. A job to be done, and done well.

So she let him burn a moment.

Because he had misunderstood.

„Not people.“ She said. „Spirits.“ She would kill everyone on the island if it meant something to Honzui, but such was not the work. Nor would be his role. „Raakgui. Cursed ones.“ Her hands moved in the empty like his Forest. „You know the kind. You've seen them. The ones who feed on pain and linger too long.“

She paused, unsure if she was misunderstood again.

„We name them. We bind them. We serve them up.“

Nodded. Yes, that was a good way to put it.

„Your curse is not a punishment. It is a mouth. So is mine.“ Both of her hands spreading, thumbs in the image of the lower jaw. „If I tricked you, I too would deserve to be eaten.“ Right hand clasping around the left in victory.

A job completed. A meal enjoyed.
 
"A mouth?"
Perhaps her traders tongue was not as fluent as it first seemed.

And spirits? How was he to do battle against such things?
"Look, even if I said yes to this and right now I have not."
He patted the hilt of his weapon.
"I have only this, I cannot move the Shroud and I cannot talk to the dead or spirits or anything of the sort."
Again he wilted, useless.

"A sword is nothing against sorcery, believe me. I cannot even slow down those things as it is."
Taking a moment he leaned his arms on the table and rested his head on them.
"How am I supposed to help defeat them? Part of why I need help is because I CANNOT fight them."

@Kuuga
 
Let him fold into the table, and let the guilt and failure rise like steam. She had seen food cry before. There was no shame in it.

There was no reason to worry.

„As you are,“ Because she agreed with him. „You are not a proper knife.“ There was no bile in her voice. „This is true.“

They were at a point beyond softness of comfort. Only truth. And the truth was seldom warm. „But if you allow me..“ Searching his face for balance, finding little. „We can mend that.“

Let him recover his spirit. It was alright for yeast to feel useless. Because in bread it did rise.

„Knives are not born sharp. They are shaped.“ And she didn't know the right word for it in this tongue, but she'd explain. „Fed to the flame and pulled back out. Again and again.“ Judging by the state of the blade, the blacksmith had work plenty to do.

„And you've already been in the fire, haven't you?“
 
More metaphors wonderful. Did this woman ever just say what she meant?

"How? You cannot make me attune to magic, it doesn't work like that. You either can weave the shroud or you can't there's no way to change that."
He was getting frustrated, this woman only said said half of what she knew at best and in cryptic cyphers. Standing up and taking a few steps away he wiped his face with his hands. It was as if he was losing something, like the opportunity was slipping from his grasp.
Rules, conditions, fucking waiting.

He had a day, maybe two at most before he had to move. There was no time for whatever she supposed she could give him.
"Look I need a solution now, I cannot wait until this damned thing has me again because when that happens it could take anyone else here with it, you included. You want to talk about eating and mouths well this thig doesn't care about that. It just takes and takes and it doesn't mind who you are or what you believe."

He let out a groan that almost became a shout.
"Fire? yeah I've been in it or at least what I think you mean and I came out no more or less magical than I was before. Just with a damned beast on my back that won't let go."
Sometimes magic could be discovered in times of need and well, he damn needed it then and nothing happened.

@Kuuga
 
She saw him now. Truly. Hawkflesh the tired. Hawkflesh the scared. Hawkflesh the hungry.

„There is a faster way.“ She tried to keep her words as plain as she could. Biting back the desire to put more reverence in her voice.

„You can shrug one monster for another.“ The briefest hint of long spectral necks behind her. No heads. Not yet.

„Kneel. Serve. And go to her. Your hunger.“ She could almost see her in the mouths of his eyes.

„You would serve. It would not all be good.“ She paced herself in his rhythm, because she would've accepted long ago. „But you would run no more.“

„You would live again.“

Shapes slowly came into view behind her. First ethereal, followed in shadow.
 
His eyes went wide and he leaned on the table to emphasis what he thought she was getting at.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted. This thing has chased him across the world and it was terrible. Worse than that and it was enough to make him want to say yes but then he saw them, just a bit forming behind her and he thought of giving himself over to that.

"No!"
Standing up he squared his shoulders and tried to set his jaw in resolve.
"I know I'm young but I told you I'm not going to trade one problem for another."

*her*
The word sunk in.
"What did you say? How do you know about her?"
He wasn't stupid, there were ways to look into the hearts and minds of others but he had not mentioned Rhosyn or Euphemia or anyone else out loud.
She was reading him and he did not appreciate it.

@Kuuga
 
Kuuga didn't flinch. Knowing she'd hit a weakness. Because he still taught in the way of men. His hunger was beautiful. Pure. In a way only starving people could ever appreciate. In time he might come to understand that his hunger was actually making him stronger.

„I did not name her.“ Tone soft. „You did.“ The more he ached, the clearer she could see desire manifest. Best not to press too far.

„The shape. The pain. I smelled the need on you before you entered the room.“ She wasn't sure how to shape her words into encouragement. Because she did not believe the moment called for it. „Some hungers are shaped like people.“

„Honzui does not read minds. It only tastes what clings.“
 
"Wonderful!"

He was getting short, the woman's implacable manner irked him fiercely and he grew impatient.
Hawkflesh knew himself well that impatience was a big obstacle for himself so he took a breath and settled his hands on the table again and spoke through gritted teeth.

"This, Honzui of yours. It can eat my curse if it what? Gets bigger, feeds on other spirits, fine then."

Damn it all to the lowest places and damned be him for ever daring to dream it would be easy.

"Where are these spirits?"

@Kuuga
 
Kuuga’s head tilted. Not smug. Accepting. A priest who had heard an honest prayer at last. “Now you’re asking the right thing.” Her mind was buzzing like a storm. They would need something weak. Something even she could kill, so that she may imbue him with proper sight. And she remembered a correct one.

Like a little hymn:

“They are in the shrines with prayers no one tends.”
“In the mouths of wells that no longer grant wishes.”
And she would finally catch herself. He chewed truth better without bones.
“They’re near people who suffer. Places where bad things happened. Things that don’t let go.”

And keeping with the quiet nature:

“I’ve found a small one. Still clinging.” She looked in the direction she knew it was as if looking through a window. But there was only stone. “It’s stuck to a grave. Someone prayed. It wasn’t enough.” She looked back to him. “It won’t be easy. But it’s a start. Small enough to trap. Strong enough to be of use.” She hoped the knife would hold its sharpness once the pain passed. That it wouldn’t hesitate when he saw that the monsters he’d be hunting didn’t look all that monstrous.

“We go before nightfall.”
 
Having only a vague notion of what the plan was did not deter him at all however he would have been happier if they could get to it right away.

"Sundown it is, at the cemetery then."

Taking up his sword and hitching it back on his belt Hawkflesh went to the door eager to get away from the musty smell that now clung to the inside of his nose and felt like it might never let go.
He needed a drink and he was almost prepared to threaten somebody for it.

Before opening the door he lay his thin hand upon the handle and paused, turning just enough to get a look at the woman.

"Do you have a name?"

Typically he got names early but he got the feeling that this woman was not the sort to offer, or perhaps did not care to know.

@Kuuga
 
„I am Kuuga.“ Her voice was straightforward, but it avoided clans or titles. There was no need to mar the truth with affiliation. If he needed to call on her, it would be sufficient.

The man had become uneasy around her. She couldn't blame him. Seeing even a fraction of Honzui wasn't easy on the eyes of most men. She wasn't asking easy things of him. But he was hungry enough to be useful.

„Look for the Ashgrove.“


*​


The evening came quietly.

The Ashgrove was not what most imagined with thoughts of eternal sleep. There were no rows of cold stone markers, nor marble temples. It was a place of deep steady green, and a restless grey. The ground here was richer than most other areas of Sonshan. They had given their dead back to the earth. Ash scattered with careful hands, infused with prayer into the loam. Loved ones becoming root and branch.

Low shrubs hugged the ground, knitting together thorns and flowers. Pale trees rose up higher, their bark streaked with white and silver. From their twisting limbs hung small clay lanterns. Darkened now. Swaying slightly even in the still air. Lower branches held small prayers tied to them. Words of both paper and cloth, sagging with mist and time.

There were no paths. Only the soft absence of brush where footsteps had learned to pass over generations. The air was infused with the sweet death of spring. Decay of old leaves and damp soil, of flowers unready to fully bloom.

Small stone steps led from the accompanying road to the clearing. Few wanted to be this close to the dead come evening.

But Kuuga waited on her knife.

And somewhere within the thicket, something unnatural stirred.
 
"Well this is unsettling yet familiar!"

Hawkflesh had ascended the steps and found Kuuga waiting for him. He did not expect to be there first (especially since he had been held up at the last pub he was at and now that he was drunk just enough to not let how creepy all this was bother him he was set to do, whatever it was he was about to be asked to do.

"So, here we are."
He opened his arms under his cloak giving himself the visage of a great thing with red wings.

"What do you need me to do?"
Hand already on his sword handle he did not expect it to be much use against spirits or the like but it was all he had and honestly all he felt himself good for as he looked at the short woman expectantly.

@Kuuga
 
Kuuga didn't flinch at the display or the smell that followed. She had no wings to spread. Only hands and hunger – and he had plenty of both.
„You came.“ Was all he'd get in response.
The silence of this place didn't sit quite right with her, so she refused to let it cling. The grove was about to have two more guests. These two would be sneaking in, after hours.

She hoped the drink would keep him steady. But she found that wasn't always the case in people. Even when it steadied the mind, it made the hands tremble. All the motivation in the world, but none of the ability. Still, he would need some steel in him for what was about to come. It would be nice if he proved different, but that was rare in her experience. Her hand emerged from the folds of her robe in quiet offering.
„You don't have the sight. Not yet. But I can lend you mine, through touch.“ She stopped herself a second, weighing how much he could handle. „Take my hand and you'll be able to see them as I do. Touch them as I can.“ Even as she spoke, a faint light slid from her eyes down her arms.

„When it's done, you'll have eyes and hands of your own. For now...we make do.“
 
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