Notes: Oyasuminasai/oyasumi: Good night

Carnations, in hanakotoba, means "passion"

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Chapter IV [Aka no Heya ~ The Red Room]

                        Katan and Teiaiel walked through the Shamayim slums quietly, sidestepping bits of rubble, garbage, and bodies on the street. The corpses of rats and other unsavoury things were unceremoniously strewn across the pavement. However, not all the bodies that lazed on the streets were corpses. Some were still alive, beings that had once been angels were wasting away the last degrading moments of their life.  The smell of rotting flesh and lingering traces of smoke did little to help the atmosphere.  Katan had rarely been to the slums, there was nothing that attracted him there.

            "Where are we going?" Katan asked his young companion.

            "To find God," she answered, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

            "Can you not simply believe and hold in the faith that he exists?"

            "No," she Teiaiel said curtly. She looked up at him. "I know he exists, but I want to find the true paradise, I want to find the heaven that the children of Assiah hear of. A haven free from hate. A God that is all loving, benevolent, wise, forgiving. He would cleanse us and let our sins be washed away."

            "What if he does not want to see us?"

            She frowned, as if the notion he suggested was impossible. "Have you ever met God, onii-chan?"

            "No," he admitted, "Of course I have never looked upon Him and spoke with Him. But-"

            "Then you can't give up hope," she interrupted.  "Come onii-chan, we will find him together."

            What possessed Katan to take the small, fragile hand he did not know but before he knew it, he was following Teiaiel closely like an overprotective guardian. It struck him that he was letting himself be lead by a child. Not an ordinary child, but still one nonetheless. Katan was in doubt that Teiaiel would ever find the celestial being that she sought. Even if they did, what were the chances of Him giving audience to two outcasts? One that had tasted the very flesh of angels, and the Cherubim that had run away from Atziluth. But Katan did not have the heart to say anything more. 

            Walking with Teiaiel, Katan could not help but notice how deeply he contrasted with his young companion. Teiaiel's small dress looked weathered, the edges were frayed and many patches had been added to cover old tears. When she walked, he could see the worn soles of her tiny shoes. It made his simple clothes seem the stuff made for kings.

            Teiaiel pointed at the grey, dismal space that made up the sky.  "Up there is where we must go, because He lives above everything."

            "I have been there before," Katan said carefully. Atziluth. He did not want to upset her. "I do not think I have seen Him there."

            "Then," she said determinedly. "We must go even above that level."

            Katan wanted to blurt out that there was nothing higher than Atziluth, nothing higher than Rociel. It was an instinctive habit, immediate praise for the one he had served. Katan held his tongue. Instead, he pointed out, "The transporters will be difficult to gain access to."

            "We will find a way."

***

            Night came, the darkness invading the sky like an unfathomable shadow. It was time to find shelter. Katan could easily dispatch or avoid any that would disturb them; but it was made difficult when he had a young charge to take care of. Closer to the heart of the city, there was more activity and hustling than the near-deserted area they had been in before. However, the streets themselves were in no better condition.  One would not be able to guess based upon appearances that Shamayim was a step closer to Atziluth than Assiah.

It would only take an hour or two from where they were now to reach the transporters. Katan knew, because it was the same transporters he had used to get in Shamayim. Surrounded by guards, the only reason he had been able to leave at all was because Rociel had let him. He had been concerned by the easy escape, but had just decided to grab the opportunity.

The inn Teiaiel chose to enter was smaller than the other ones situated on the street, but the interior seemed to give a more homely appearance than the others. In contrast to the streets, the inside of the inn was quite clean. There were drunkards at the small bar, but they did not possess the look of murderers and thieves. They were lowly beings charged by the duty of surviving. None turned to look at Katan and Teiaiel as they entered.

 Up at the front desk, the innkeeper was busy scratching something into her appointment book with a stubborn pen. A wizened old woman, she still looked quite capable of kicking out any troublemakers.   Her defined cheekbones looked even more chiselled against her taut face, and a length of white hair was tied back in the form of a neat bun.

As the pair approached the desk, she looked up silently. Looking them over, her gaze lingered a moment more on Katan. 

"A room for the night please," Katan tossed a pouch of money onto the tabletop, which landed with a clunk from its weight.

  The innkeeper pocketed it without even looking inside, and headed towards the stairs without another word. She paused for a moment, motioning for them to follow. They complied. 

The room they were presented with was small, but well kept. Two single beds rested by the window, and the flower-patterned curtains were of white lace. A table was placed in the centre of the room, with two accompanying chairs. There was a gentle feeling in the room that contrasted with the rest of Shamayim.

The innkeeper gave him a copper key. "Thank you, ma'am," Katan said politely.

"None of that madam stuff," she grunted. "I dislike formality. Call me Barbara."

He blinked. "Thank you, Barbara."

She gestured below, as if they could see through it to see what was underneath. "Directly below you is the kitchen. If your hungry, just give the chef a holler. He gets off after ten so if you need a midnight bite, raid the fridge yourself. Dinner is served at eight, and breakfast at nine. Got it?"

He nodded.

Barbara then turned to Teiaiel, and gave her a small pat on the head. "'Tis good to see you again, girl. Still looking for Him?" Teiaiel nodded in the affirmative, she was quiet but her eyes held a twinkle of excitement.  Barbara smiled warmly at her.

"Her parents and I were old friends," she explained to him. "Whenever she comes by I give her bed to sleep in, and a warm meal."

            "That is very kind of you," Katan said earnestly.

            Barbara shrugged. "A moment of peace and safety is all I can afford to give. Its nothing."

            Katan was about to tell her otherwise, but she had already turned her back on him.  Reaching forward, she gently pushed Teiaiel in the direction of the beds. "Off to sleep with you, I wager you've been up all day running around. Dinner won't be for another two hours."

            Teiaiel nodded obediently. She sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes and then placing them neatly on the floor. Stifling a yawn, she slipped underneath the covers and closed her eyes.

            Feeling a tap on his arm, Katan was surprised to see Barbara taking his arm and then tugging him out the door; with more strength than what someone her age ought to have.  Halfway down the stairs, she turned and said to him in a low voice, "This is your last chance."

            "For what?" Katan asked, puzzled.

            "If yer going to abandon her, then do it now. 'Tis no good waiting until later," she said, her voice suddenly a bit harsh.

            "I am not planning to abandon her," Katan answered immediately. 

            Barbara chortled with laughter, barely suppressing the sound with her bony hands. "I could almost believe you. But you will, just as they always have."

            Suddenly her face turned serious, and she said gravely, "She is an angel eater, my boy. If she doesn't do you in, then the inspectors that are after her will. Do not forget, the line between friend and foe is very thin here."

            "I understand."

            "Ech. Well, it's none of my business." Barbara fished a pouch from her pockets and tossed it at Katan, who caught it easily. "I don't want your money. Just make sure you take good care of the poor lass." She gave him a long studying look, as if she was wondering if she had done the right thing by trusting him. Decision made, she departed down the stairs.  Taking it as his cue to go back to his room, Katan ascended back up and slipped in the room silently so he would not wake Teiaiel.

Teiaiel had already drifted off to sleep, an innocent and peaceful expression settled upon her delicate features.  Katan idly wondered how long it had been since she had slept in a warm bed. 

Poor child. She's never known love, has she?

***

            Dinner that night was brought up to their room by a young maid, miraculously balancing two trays loaded with food. Katan tried to give her a tip in exchange for her trouble but she had refused, insisting that she had been paid already. The young maid blushed a little when Katan had smiled his thanks. She quickly hurried out the door after placing the trays on the table.

            Debating whether or not to wake up Teiaiel, Katan decided to just let her sleep longer. She would eat when she wanted to. He made sure that her food was covered properly so it would stay warm, then he sat down to eat his own food.  Katan picked up a piece of garlic bread, and ate it slowly. It was soft and chewy, fresh from the oven. The tomato soup was nothing special, it seemed very much watered down. He drank it without really tasting it. The main course was a type of fish that had been simmered in marmalade and was served with tomatoes on the side. Beside that dish was a bowl of steamed rice, sprinkled lightly with sesame and mixed with bits of scrambled egg and ham. The dinner was of course, not anywhere near even the calibre of afternoon refreshments at the palace, but he was not picky.

            When he was done, Katan wiped his mouth on a napkin and set aside the dishes.  The washroom was more cramped then what Katan was used to, but he did not complain. After cleaning himself up, he walked back into the room. Teiaiel was sitting by the table, picking at her food mutely.  Apparently she had woken up while he was still in the washroom. Katan went to his own bed and sat down, shrugging off his shoes. He lied down and pulled the covers over himself. He closed his eyes, when Teiaiel suddenly spoke up. "Onii-chan…Aren't you afraid that I'll eat you in your sleep?"

            "You won't."

            Ordinarily it would have been a ridiculous question, however Katan was quite aware that Teiaiel was not ordinary.

            Teiaiel tilted her head questioningly. "How do you know?"

            "You are seeking God to repent your sins," Katan answered easily, opening his eyes to look at her.  "You would not be seeking him if you did not truly want to atone."

            He was rewarded with a rare smile. "Your right," she said. No one understood her like he did.  Teiaiel resumed picking at her food. "Oyasuminasai, onii-chan."

            "Oyasumi."

***

            A dream is a mirror of reality, pieces of the truth that are fragments of the whole truth. Dreams are the reflections of emotions, the constant stream of thoughts that ferry through the brain. It is the liquid mercury that seeps between the cracks of one's consciousness. The Devourer of Devourers, it engulfs the tortured mind, licking deliciously at the deeply lodged secrets.   It shows things that were, that will never be, the futures that can be, and the futures that will be.

            "Rociel-sama."

            Rociel turned around slowly. Held by the throes of melancholy, he did not sense the other's presence until he had spoken.  No servant of his had ever disturbed him at night.

            "Katan?"

            The Cherubim stepped onto the balcony, moving out into the moonlight.

            "Hai."

            "You surprised me. I didn't know you were there." There was an uncharacteristic absence of emotion in his words that worried Katan.

            Katan knelt and bowed his head.

            "It was rude of me to invade. Please accept my apologies. It is just that I feel lately you have.. Not been your self. The others, they are beginning to speculate.. They say things like, 'Why does the Inorganic twin brood? Why does he look at us with sudden disdain?' They are lies generated by enemies jealous of your power, but I do feel the sadness that has taken you. You.. Mourn. "

            Rociel cuffed Katan sharply across the cheek, forcing Katan's head to snap in the other direction.

            "Leave me alone!" Rociel roared. He wrapped his hand around Katan's neck tightly, his nails digging unmercifully into Katan's neck. "Don't meddle into affairs of mine which you know nothing of!"

            Katan did not struggle, because that always made it worse. He did not complain, he did not touch the tender, burning skin of his cheek. Katan lowered his head further in submission, the ends of his hair bushing the marble ground. 

            There was a brief moment of respite, as neither of them spoke. Katan would wait, just as he always did. The soft wind tickled his skin, as if to reassure him.

            "Can you.. Smell them?" Rociel asked quietly, his gaze fixed on a point beyond Katan. "The carnations, they are at their peak today."

            "Hai."

            "What do you think of them?"

            "They are beautiful, their splendour only surpassed by you."

            Rociel's long, slender fingers caressed Katan's cheek gently. The same hand that had brought him pain a moment ago, now gave him peace.  Rociel's soft, pink lips pressed lightly against the nape of his neck. Delicate arms pulled him in firmly, and his right ear was nibbled playfully. After a moment, a wet tongue replaced it, flicking back and forth.

            A silky voice slid over him. "You are.. Forgiven."

            [Now.. Come back to me.]

            Katan awoke to the sound of screaming coming from outside the room. Shaking off the covers, he stumbled to the light switch and turned it on.  First, he noticed that Teiaiel was absent from the room. Secondly, the screaming had suddenly stopped, it had been cut off.  Alarmed, he threw his shoes on hastily and ran out of his room, descending the stairs in a hurry.

            His mounting dread threatened to overcome him, and it almost did when he saw the state of the main room. The walls were splattered in red blood, excess dripping onto the floor in crimson puddles.

There was no movement, not a soul stirred. There were bodies, and more bodies. The dead were hung mockingly on coat hangers by their own coats. Mouths gaping, hanging open in their last expression of agony. Others were on the floor in pieces, smeared into the boards like jam.

The air itself was penetrated with the smell of blood and the innards of the deceased.  He tried to calm the panic. Nauseous, he covered his nose with his sleeve, and froze. He smelled…

Carnations.

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