Orpheus

Objectively, they're probably the second least trustworthy amongst us - I know next to nothing about them and an arcanist of their nature is far harder to predict. Especially given their penchant for disguises without warning, even I don't shift my flesh intentionally that much.

But still, they're nice to me. They smile without teeth and do their duty in their own way. They fear the consequence of inaction or failure far too much for one of their talent, though. It's like they can't see what the rest of us do when we, when I, see them. I hope they trust me enough to let me teach them, in these moments of us learning to be 'people'. Though, I suppose that's a bit of a misnomer for them, it's simply helping them see that they're more of a person than most could dream of. More than I could hope to

Enlai is well-behaved as anything and with such a knack for adapting to their circumstance. I should be harsher and more diligent, but I find myself yielding to their desires far more than is proper. Cunning, as well, they'll make a fine Court member when they grow. Not my court, but theirs still may exist somewhere else. I owe it to them to try.

And Zita, how to speak of them. At first, I saw them as just an addition to Enlai, I too had foolish flights of fancy in my youth of improper bonds, but even they've managed to gain my affection despite their shredding of my belongings. Such a vivid pupa, a counterweight to my own discipline, loyal, and even if they aren't of our blood, their wit would keep them in a better state than most.

What will I do when I must give them back up? When I have done my duty and they go? When I'm alone again? Perhaps this is my penance for taking so many, to learn how to care only to have it taken and me left once again a xìqǔ without an audience.

Still, that isn't today. I won't dwell, not when so much tells me to not; even the woods sing of the simple joys of the present. They're sleeping by me, now, tired from a late night. Enlai is as always neatly in their robes, laying in a way to take up as little space on the mat I provided as possible, while Zita snores wrapped around their neck and in their hands like a blanket. Tomorrow, perhaps I'll ask them what they want again. It feels a waste of time and yet the aid I can offer in repairing the city feels less impactful in some abstract way. The city would rebuild without my aid, at most hindered by a few days, but these pupas need to be cared for. Six may have their siblings, but these two can be mine.

I don't think I can explain it, not in a way that would make me sound like anything reasonable, but that feels intentional. Maybe I shouldn't try, I should just listen, let it wash over me. Like the Cho

Who am I?

I am FēngmìGōu Amon. I am the list of names and the hook that fresh, dripping meat will hang from. Ordered, deliberate. Efficient. Many despise this me, and they are right to, but still, there is pride in the title. Many don't reach the ranks I did. My Pīfēng would shine green, not a dull metallic silver.

But I am also Amon Duvou. Far more performative, and yet so much more alive in those ways. Somebody who flees, who loves. Loved? No, loves. Perhaps not in the way they mean when they speak, but my love is just as vivid. Vile, violent, virulent. My love is an onion.

Some part of me must still be little Zǐmò Lu-cheng then, the small pupa plucked as a stones from the dirt to be polished and skipped across the marshy water with friends. Did I make the best use of my time with them, even if I never told them how I felt? It doesn't matter now, I wear what was theirs as part of who I am all the same.

Lethe. Does that name even count, if it was chosen to not be me? Forgetfulness, cool river water to cover your head while you drown out the storm above for a second. These people appreciate it at least, and in turn, give me a few blissful moments of my own. They deserve solutions, but if all I can offer is Lethe, Lethe is who I will be.

Gods, it could almost make you forget for a moment the burden that telling another of the city makes you feel, the way she smiled and listened. Enjoyed the show with no judgement, even if my rotten tongue did offend her once or twice. She even hung up the puzzle we solved together in place of one of her paintings, like it was worth something. A lady of her status, indulging a thing like me.

No, it probably isn't Shen anymore, is it? You'll have to pardon my lack of formality given I never got to see you gain your courtesy name.

I don't know if you can even read this, but any chance is worth taking even if I seem a fool.

I've been so lonely

I got your missive, the youth, and am doing as best as I can with them even through the issues that may arise - for better or worse I have become entangled in repairing a city of this plane. They have your intelligence, but could never match your wit. Perhaps they'll grow into it, if you chose them for anything beyond their status that is.

I miss you

Speak to me

Your writing has been noted and make no mistake, the will of the court will be done. He is unworthy to be hung from our hooks.

Is Mei alive

I just hope you should know when you’re also pushing too far. Don’t lose sight of others in the path to your retribution. It is how so many people meet an early grave; digging it for another. Without judgement, I think that is what he has done already. You said you could have been him, but that insight doesn’t mean you cannot still be. I do think you feel far too much regret to become someone of any likeness to him as he is now, but please be careful.

If it is any consolation, I am not selfless in this deed either. I don’t think the ones I hold dear should stain their hands red with this is; it is a reason that descends from the fact that I will not allow my children to be hurt like this again.

It isn't a lack of help I seek to bestow. I can be cruel, when I'm ordered to be, and I feel the itch in me to be cruel once again. For my court, for my honour. For their honour.

If I've forgotten hundreds of those I had to show faux kindness to to bring them home, perhaps it's only apt that one I've had to drill into my memory experience it. He was what I could have been.

They have not stopped yet. Time advances. I cannot weep. I am not there, and the me that is when (not where) you are doesn’t have the capability to do anything at all. Stopped, unlike time.

I will try and muster a tear for things that haven’t been yet for me, but have already been and are being right now. I will cry for every one of my children, and hope it allows your skin more years of movement. Of change.

They are my family. It's been fifteen years and I know they live how can I say no to being what I am so very practiced at being? He was always so close to me, one of the only ones who ever even tolerated the wretch I was.

I am ugly and vicious and he has the nerve to demand to have his precious, material comforts. He will have what he asked for, what is His by right.