#the tortoise.

being in the lone presence of the high priest is an extraordinary honor and right now, you are in the thick of it. the ever so watchful eyes of ho sangchul rarely glance over to you, he does not even need a proper look to read you like an open book. busy hands with sharp fingernails skim through your file, placing an ominous scribble here and there before he finally raises his voice.

“thank you for meeting me, sister. do tell me something about yourself.”

a list of qualifications and aspirations rolls through her head, like reading instructions off a manual. she’s been prepared for this her whole life, has been made aware of the expectations placed on her. meaning she has had enough time to practice her enthusiasm when she answers, teeth glinting a perfect pale.

“naturally, i want to uphold the legacy of my bloodline during my time in the academy. the dark lord has graced our name with infinite blessings, and i want to use my given abilities in his service within the witching community.” her hands tighten over the knee of her crossed leg ever so slightly, smile unwavering, taut. she knows how to present as appropriately malleable by now, how to act smart and look stupid. like a proper lady, daddy calls it. “it has all started here for my ancestors, so i intend to follow their steps and make the fullest of my time under your wing, father.” if it comes out a little suggestive, she doesn’t acknowledge it. it’s barely

her hair sways from one shoulder to the other as she shifts in her seat, keeping her spine straight. she throws in a little honesty to the speech, if only because a truth sells the lies much better. “i plan to pursue my calling for runes and spoken magic within the academy, on his unholy name. my father has raised me traditional, but not old-fashioned.” that’s straying a bit too far from the truth again, but she chuckles like she’s in on the joke nonetheless.

“i see. now, your file contains the bare necessities about your family. i would like to hear more.”

“well, sir, you know my father – he’s overprotective, but i know he wants the best for me.”

she struggles to add to that. it’s a flimsy truism, spreading too thin over the fraught details and contrivances of their relationship. their history isn’t perfect, neither is he – isn’t that too much for a daughter to forgive already? jiyeon understands her father all too well, and maybe that’s part of the reason her affection for him never comes without hesitation. he’s a simple man, with simple views.

“after my mother’s sacrifice, he did his best to give me a family.” he replaced her not two years after the festival, her blood yet to run dry. “he wanted so ardently to live up to her memory.” he milked the carnage of her death to the last drop, quick to cash in favors and climb his way up to the highest ranks of warlocks. he only celebrates the anniversary of her death, never her birthdays.

“of course, aunt haeryung has been like a mother to me since my mother’s crowning.” her mother’s sister makes for a sweeter memory, even if marked by the quarrels with her father to defend her right to her mother’s legacy. he never wanted her close, hoping jiyeon would become closer to his second wife if only her mother’s family would disappear from her life. that’s the problem with being too simple – you tend to believe anyone can be flattened into the same single dimension you fit into. “i’m incredibly thankful for her presence for all these years.”

“how very interesting. here it says you specialize in cursing. what evoked your interest?”

that answer comes easy enough, is there anything else in her mind? “control.”

curses and hexes feel like an armor on her tongue, a swinging sword coming down necks craning too close. life under the church of dusk had only taught her loss – so much had been taken from her that she was surprised to find there was strength left to fight back. the empowerment that came with the realization she could hold her ground, the realization her body and mind were weapons alike, that’s what fuels her. the promise of power, the taste of it, melting on her tongue as her blood merged with old paper, was the one thing that made her kneel at the dark lord’s feet.

“that’s probably the one thing that unites the choi family, we do love control. i found that spells are a powerful way to claim it, and i plan on developing my abilities in casting to best seize them.”

“i am sure you will excel at it with the help of the academy. one last question, perhaps more in my own humble interest. say, the devil himself would honor you with a task only you could fulfill. how far would you go to satisfy his excellency?”

she holds his gaze, smile frozen on her face, as though her muscles had turned to stone. she figures this must be a standard item on his questionnaire, but it’s hard not to feel like there’s something a little too personal about it when it’s her sitting before him. she thinks of how beautiful her mother had looked, the gilded queen – how stars burned bright in her eyes minutes before they were gouged out of her skull. the warmth of her last embrace still a vivid memory, her last words still echoing in jiyeon’s mind every once in a while, always catching her off guard, always leaving behind the thought of sharp objects and wet dirt. i pray for you, beloved, on her quivering lips.

“there are no limits to his binding.” something is out of place in her gaze as they bore past the high priest and the wall of his office, facing darker places. she wonders how deep a truth can reach. “we are his servants, aren’t we?”