Twinned Destinies Chapter 102. Demon Spring (IV) (Patreon)

The sun beamed. The snow twinkled. Morning painted the skies ice blue and the cold crispness air made Sabina smile; each little breath shocked her awake. It was a lovely day—it was always a lovely day, but today particularly agreed with her.

Then there was Ruyi! Every time Sabina saw her, she wanted to ruffle her hair and pinch her cheeks. Sabina liked to tell her she was adorable; this seemed to upset her—Ruyi wanted to be thought of as formidable, not adorable. This only made her more adorable to Sabina.

She had been crying again. Her eyes were red all over and puffy, but Sabina didn’t bring it up. Sabina pretended nothing was wrong. She greeted Ruyi cheerfully as ever. It would spare her the embarrassment—and if you pretended joy long enough, in Sabina’s experience, these little sadnesses went away on their own.

At first they spoke of little things, this and that, but she sensed Ruyi was holding something in, waiting to spring it on her.

“Can I ask you a question?” said Ruyi at last.

“Whatever you like.”

Ruyi was quiet. Snow crunched under their bare feet. Then—“What do you do when you get scared?”

Sabina chuckled. “I am afraid I cannot answer this. I do not know. I do not get scared.”

“Really?”

Ruyi had such big curious eyes—Sabina could see her own face in them, slightly warped.

“Perhaps I feel fear,” she allowed. “But it does not scare me.”

Again Ruyi was quiet. “I don’t get it.”

“It is like this. I feel the sensations of fear. Perhaps I may feel tingling on my skin. Perhaps I may feel a tightness in my chest, or my heart going thump-thump-thump. But am I scared? No.” Sabina grinned fiercely. “Being scared is a state of mind.”

Ruyi stared blankly. “What?”

Sabina patted her on her cute little head. “Think about it.”

Ruyi did think about it. Her face got all scrunched up; then she sighed. “I don’t know… I get scared all the time. And I was wondering what to do, since, you know. You seemed like you would know.”

“Being scared is not useful,” said Sabina, frowning. It was obvious, but sometimes folk needed to hear obvious things.

“Well, I find it useful sometimes… it helps me do what I need to do,” said Ruyi. “Other times it’s awful for no reason.”

“If it is useful, then keep it!” Her Ruyi was so silly sometimes. “If it is not useful, then discard it. Do not make this harder than it has to be.”

“But you can’t just choose not to feel things.”

“Of course you can! You are not your feelings.”

“You aren’t?”

“Do not be ridiculous. You are a thinking creature, are you not? Take stock of your mind. Greet fear as a stranger at the door of your mind, and see it off. Only beasts feel mindlessly. You are better than that.”

“…but sometimes,” mumbled Ruyi, looking at the ground, “I get so scared I can’t think at all.”

“You can,” insisted Sabina. “It is as simple as believing you can.”   “…I don’t know…”

Sabina was demonstrating even now that she was not her feelings. She was feeling the sensations of impatience, a prickling of it, but she knew it would not be good to let it in, to grow truly annoyed. Still, though—this impatience was not without cause. It was good to be compassionate, but not to the point of babying. She loved Ruyi, but her least favorite version of Ruyi was mopey Ruyi. She wanted to pick the girl up and shake her around until she came to her senses. Up, up! She wanted to say. Let us move, and feel the sun on our faces, and smile! Nothing is so bad as you think.

But Sabina had learned from painful experience this was not the way to cheer some folk up. She simply had little patience for nonsense. It had never been in her to console; for that you had to take others’ pain into yourself and hold it there, feel it as truly as if it were your own. She was never good at it.

“The day is beautiful,” she told Ruyi. “Everything will be okay. I promise you this.” And she smiled. “Say it, and believe it—then it shall be true.”

Ruyi didn’t say it. She looked away. Then—“Do you really never get scared?”

Now Sabina was actually a little annoyed. Why did some folk insist on picking at scabs? It baffled her.

“The difference between feeling fear and getting scared is succumbing to it.”

“And you never succumbed to fear? Ever?”

“Of course I have!” snapped Sabina. “If you cut me, I bleed. But I do not remember this. I do not say of myself, ‘I am a person who gets scared.’ When it happens I try my best to forget it. What good does it do to dwell on such things? Do not remind yourself of your weakness—it only serves to make you weaker. Say instead, ‘I am fearless!’ Look at the sunrise! Isn’t it lovely?”

“…yeah…”

“Good girl.” Sabina put the smile back on her face. “This will be a wonderful day.”

***

Until recently, Ruyi had thought when she was old—maybe thirty of forty—and ‘mature,’ whatever that meant, she would be something like Sabina. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe Sabina’s way worked for her, but Ruyi couldn’t imagine living like that. She didn’t even really understand it. There was no difference between feeling fear and being scared to Ruyi. Sabina said something about a ‘door of the mind’—like she lived in a mental house, but there were no walls to Ruyi’s mind, no doors; feelings came and went as they pleased. Maybe she was just made weirdly, and there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe she didn’t want to do anything about it. Oddly the thought comforted her.

***

Darius saw Lula standing there staring at nothing, so he took the opportunity to walk over and flick her in the head.

“Hey!” said Lula. He smirked at her.

“Your face is stupid and I hate you,” she said.

“Good morning to you too.” He stretched out an arm, yawning.

"So," he said, "are you nervous?" Lula squinted at him.

"For what?"

"Well," Darius said, "it's the last day before we head to the spring! Before we have to face all those spooky monsters from hell. I hear they like the taste of little girls, especially chubby ones." He wiggled his fingers mockingly.

Lula punched him. "Why are you always so annoying?"

"I don't know," he sighed, running a hand carelessly through his hair. "It’s a gift."

His question had been rhetorical. He could tell she was nervous—anyone within ten li could. She gave off nervousness like the sun gave off heat. The best thing he could do for her was to make a joke of it; monsters in jester’s makeup were always so much less scary. And he couldn't pretend that he didn't enjoy needling her a little every time they met. He kept track of how many sentences it took before he made her blush and how many before he got his first punch.

He was born with a particularly useless skill: a sixth sense for saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time. He had far too much fun needling her for his own well-being. So despite his better judgment—which could prefix half the things he did—he said, “You know, I hear there are lamias down there, and tar dragons, and snakes with ten heads that grow back if you cut one off. I hear there are creatures with bull’s legs and men’s torsos, and bull’s torsos and men's legs! There are beasts there like an army glued together—a hundred heads, two hundred hands.”

She glared at him. "You're just trying to scare me."

He shrugged. “It's true. I've seen it.”

“...Really?”

She should have known better by now, but she kept trusting him. He noticed that about her—she could be suspicious as all Hell of strangers, but once she liked you, she developed a massive blind spot. At some level he suspected she didn't believe in her heart that he would trick her, even though her head knew it well enough.

She looked so naive, so trusting that he almost couldn’t go through with it. But he did.

“No,” he said. “They’re tales we tell to scare children. A hundred heads, two hundred arms? What sort of moron would believe that?”

She reddened. "You—!"

“But don’t worry,” he said, patting her. He gave her a roguish smile. “If we did come across some scary monster, you can hide behind me. I'll protect you.”

She punched him—twice—and he laughed. It was well worth the sore arm—and his arm did get quite sore. For such a little thing, she hit shockingly hard.

“All right, you two,” said Sabina. “Settle down, everyone gather up.”

They formed into a ragged line, Lula next to him. He pretended not to notice her glaring at him. In his experience, it annoyed them even more when you seemed totally unruffled.

“Last day before we enter the spring,” said Sabina, arms folded. “We have had our fun; it is time we grew serious. The tribe's safety rests on us. They trust us with their lives. We mustn't take this lightly. To be a warrior of the praetorianus is to fight for something greater than yourself. Our first duty is to the tribe. Remember that.”

He didn't miss how her gaze lingered on him. He felt aggrieved. He wanted to say, 'I do take this seriously; you wrong me. I care, of course, I do!' Instead, he did the easy thing, as he always did, and rolled his eyes at her, feeling mildly ashamed about it.

“You will behave yourself, Darius.”

“Yes, mother,” he sighed.

She grunted and turned away. It was the best she thought she could get out of him, which was kind of sad. It killed him that she was justified; everyone knew his first love was himself. It still kind of hurt.

“We begin today with last man standing. You are in the arena; you do not leave until you lose. I want all of you to give it your all—fight as though it is not your life at stake, but all of our lives. Show me the stuff of your heart.” She grinned at them. “Let’s do this!”

They all cheered, even Darius, half-heartedly—a little one.

"First up," said Sabina, scanning the ranks. "Lula," she said. "Step forth."

Lula did. When he'd first seen her that morning, she was shaking a little; she looked like she was ready to keel over. But now, firmed up with anger, she marched to the center of the ring, her mouth set in a hard little line.

“First in the ring gets to choose,” said Sabina. “Who would you like?”

He felt a stab of queasiness. He had this sneaking suspicion—

Her eyes settled squarely on him. She pointed. “I want him!”

“What can I say?" he said, shrugging as he stepped in, the rest of them closing the circle around him until it was just the two of them in the ring. "I'm flattered I’m your first choice, but don't think that means I'll take it easy on you."

"I hate you," said Lula. She scrunched her nose. "And your hair is ugly and stupid!”

He laughed, a real one, without meaning to. He could tell she was really trying to insult him, but she was just so bad at being mean.

"Alright, alright,” he sighed, grinning. "Show me what you've got."

“Hmph!” Ruyi put up her fists. “We’ll see who’ll be protecting who.”

//

A/N: Going to try experimenting w/ dictating my writing for the next month! Will take some adjusting at first, but I'm hopeful I can write more words/chapter (and maybe more chapters/week?) once I get used to it. 

The second half of this chapter was written via dictation. Lmk if you can sense a difference or drop in quality! That's my main concern, so I do a lot more editing on the dictated bits.