Scaramouche slapped my arm down and pulled lightning into the center of his palm, but I dodged his attack, conjuring a hand fan from the folds of my skirt.
"What the hell?!" Scaramouche gasped, the electricity in his hand fading away from the force generated by my fan.
I held the sensu in front of my face, obscuring the blood that was dripping from the corner of my lips and wincing as I struggled to lift my elbow.
"I am impressed, Rin," the Tsaritsa said. "You are unhesitant in placing the safety of your body at risk and have confidence in your capability. You have endured slaughter and war, taking a great many lives to ensure your own survival. You are no longer connected to Inazuma, I am aware. What sorrow you must carry on your shoulders."
The Tsaritsa vanished in a flurry of snow and materialized before me, a stunning character, the melancholy of a thousand centuries engraved in her frost-bitten, lapis eyes. For a moment, I looked to her with the admiration of a subject blinded by fear, until lightning seared through my head, a pain sharper than blades reminding me of the power she held over me.
Still, I sat down, the strands of my hair lifted by a soft breeze that leaked through the windows. Years had passed since I last caught sight of Inazuma. I spent every night in a different bed, and just as soon as I thought to myself, "Maybe I can make this place a home", the tides swept me away to new lands, wiping the slate clean, beckoning me to start over. Sometimes, the petty yearning to rewind time and retrace my steps smothered everything else, swallowed my ambitions and begged me to stay.
No.
I was no longer the princess who succumbed to sorrow after losing her life of luxury. I would survive, I would live with honor.
The Tsaritsa extended her hand to me, and I gently placed it in my own, pressing my lips to her silver ring.
As I opened my eyes, the room came into view above me.
Scaramouche backed away, and, in unison, the Ten Fatui Harbingers summoned their weapons, appearing in a flash beside me, their swords clattering to the ground.
"If Her Majesty, our mighty Tsaritsa has deemed you worthy, we shall acknowledge and accept you as a comrade. You shall live only at the disposal of Her Majesty. Our sole duty is to see out the decree of our queen as she desires. As Fatui Harbingers, are prepared to lay down our lives in the defense of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa and the victory of Snezhnaya."
They spoke those words in such concert, I thought that if I was just born at a different time, in a different place, maybe I could've been memorizing that same line, placing my full trust into stories I had been told by charlatans disguised as raconteurs, blinded by complete admiration.
But I was not born for that. The Electro Archon breathed life into me and gave me a purpose because she knew I would succeed.
"You have power, and your opportunity to use it for the good of this world has arrived. Little girl, can I trust you?" the Tsaritsa asked.
Praying the heavens would not punish me for lying, I nodded.
The Cryo Archon sighed. "You resemble me in the past, young one. The girl who only exists in my memories lives on within you."
"As long as I am needed by you, I will remain by your side, Your Majesty," I responded, though hesitant in uttering such a lie. "If you need me to be a mirror of who you once were, I will gladly oblige."
"Then I shall nominate you, Kamisato Rin, as the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. Welcome, my child."
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My initiation was neither solemn nor joyous, and as I sat in the corner of my cadet camp's kitchen, spooning ladles of stew into my bowl, my mind began to wander.
A day had passed since I was installed as the Eleventh Harbinger. I left Zapolyarny Palace in a civil manner and returned to camp bearing baskets of fruits and vegetables. Since my nomination had yet to be publicly announced, I was forbidden from informing the cadets about who I really was. I was no longer the spinner of yarns entertaining with music and stories at the hearth, no longer the shoulder to cry on when homesickness hit. The bonds I had forged with my fellow cadets would remain in the recesses of my memory as stepping stones in my journey.
I could recall that my mother once told me that everyone in this world was connected to another by an invisible crimson string. 'The Red Thread of Fate', she had called it. As a child, I had desperately wondered who I was connected to, eagerly awaiting the day when I would meet him.
All of a sudden, my thoughts wandered to my encounters with Scaramouche. Long ago, I had promised myself that the Raiden Shogun would be foremost, always, a truth a never to change. My god-ordained connection the Electro Archon was a true bond. No matter how many times I was disillusioned, I would wake up the next morning and pray. My relationship with the Shogun was a faith in and of itself, a religion only I worshipped.
Yet, when he lifted his face, something about the way I looked at the world changed.
Scaramouche was arrogant, violent, and irritable. But what stood out to me the most was that, not unlike myself, he was lonely.
Lonely, like the solitary cloud.
For the chorus always went:
♪ Solitary cloud, shadow in the setting sun, stirs the drifter's heart . . . ♪
♪ "Am I forever cursed to roam in isolation, like the cloud?" he asked. ♪
♪ To this, the Narukami replied, "Thou shall be bound by red thread to thy loved one, forever unchanging." ♪
♪ Purpose and reason, knowledge and logic, all shall fade . . . but the red thread remains unsevered. ♪
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"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" I inquired.
"Yes," she commented. "All Fatui Harbingers have official partners that they may consult if the assignment deems collaboration necessary. Kamisato Rin, there are currently three complete partnerships. However, while there is a trinity consisting of three Harbingers, even that does not bother me. What irks me is that one Harbinger stands lone, rebuffing all attempts of partnership."
"Your Majesty, may I ask who this Harbinger is?" I asked, my interest piqued.
Then, from the shadows arose an indistinct shadow. The pathway was dark, yet this figure was darker. The darkness was sinister, yet this person was the most sinister of all.
"So, we meet again . . ."
His voice reached the very marrow in my bones, and I stepped back.
. . . you slut of a woman."
In that single moment, as our vision met with incredible clarity, a thread flashed before my eyes.
A crimson thread.
Vermillion.
Scarlet.
Red.
YOU ARE READING
𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜'𝙨 𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙬 // scaramouche x oc
Fanfiction--DISCONTINUED-- As the former heiress of the Yashiro Commission, Rin's past in Inazuma is . . . complex, to say the least. She was the true Shirasagi Himegimi, before her sister, Ayaka, took over that role in her stead. But when she left the nation...
