Finished part 1 of 3 for next youngins chapters... finally got the motivation to write... going to start on part 2 soon... part 1 and 2 should be posted together sometime in the next two weeks...
Finished part 1 of 3 for next youngins chapters... finally got the motivation to write... going to start on part 2 soon... part 1 and 2 should be posted together sometime in the next two weeks...
Vinestaff-centered -- What if Vine joined the TRUE EYE?
Words: 4,137
Ao3
CW: body mutilation, descriptions of gore and violence, cults, and coercion
(there may be more, please tell me if you think I need to add some)
Kneeling before a veiled man, an agent of their God. He spoke in a language she couldn't understand, ancient in its sound. Other Family members kneeled as well, praying with such eagerness.
Blood dripped down her face, though no pain rattled through her skull. A small mercy given to her, from the suggestion of The Broker, so they called him.
Vinestaff swore an oath.
One that would not be taken back.
Please enjoy!!
"You look wonderful!" His voice was shrill, his smile mocking yet warm. Standing before her, he finished wrapping the open wound, what remained of her other eye.
"That was a beautiful ceremony. Father looked so happy! The acolytes were all pleased as well."
Broker laughed, the sound spilling from his throat so easily.
The room was only a small part of the quaint home Vinetaff had been gifted. They let her stay there temporarily while she was seeking shelter from Katana.
It would be her permanent home now.
The small house was decorated plainly, nothing like the dirty worn-in apartment they'd shared with Slingshot. The air was stale and the walls of the building did not shield her from the dry heat of the desert outside. Dust had gathered on most of the ordinary wood furniture.
She was sitting before a mirror, a vanity that had barely been touched before her arrival. The desk connected was a vintage thing, the pale cream stain on its wood akin to the old vanities she'd used to find abandoned on the side of the road. Luxuries at some point, now only a faint memory of what they used to be.
Vinestaff could barely stand looking at her own reflection. Her face was scrubbed of any color, her makeup long forgotten. A large white gauze sat on the now empty socket of her left eye, firmly held in place by bandages wrapped diagonally on her head. Ever so kindly it allowed her to still see with her remaining eye. Her usual smile was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a deep-set frown.
Kneeling before a veiled man, an agent of their God. He spoke in a language she couldn't understand, ancient in its sound. Other Family members kneeled as well, praying with such eagerness.
Blood dripped down her face, though no pain rattled through her skull. A small mercy given to her, from the suggestion of The Broker, so they called him.
Vinestaff swore an oath.
One that would not be taken back.
Her shoulders were slumped forward, usual gracefulness gone. The day had been a hassle, painful— yet she couldn't imagine any other plan fate had in mind for her.
Shuriken.
Katana.
A betrayal.
If she had known, she would've stopped him. Taking a job from the True Eye, like the idiot he was. Going behind their backs to earn his own money. He said it was to get him and her on their own feet so they wouldn't have to rely on Slingshot.
It was a bad idea, she would've told him to stop if she knew.
If only she knew.
She'd kept herself up tending to the greenery she kept in the apartment. Making sure the humidity was perfect, making sure none of them had outgrown their pots, or worse, died.
She never expected her beloved brother to walk in, in her mind Shuriken was already fast asleep.
She never expected to see a gold ring snaked tight around his left horn. Nor did she think to ever see him draped in the deep teal of the TRUE EYE.
Vinestaff was furious with him, she could still feel the strain from the way she yelled. How she scolded him, made sure he'd remember to never take a job from them again.
But his explanation, his confession, revealed her worst nightmare.
He had strayed deeper than she thought.
But Katana's response— his fury. It wasn't something she could forgive. Only days had taken for him to find out, for him to see.
Her little brother, calamity carving itself into his skin, the life fading from his eyes.
Her own fury compromised them. The urge flowing through her veins to attack— to command roots to split the mask, dig into his skull, to crush—
They fought, viciously so, as if they had hardly known each other. He was relentless, but she had the capabilities to defend. It was so jarring, a side of Katana she'd only seen enemies face before her, slashing with the aim of her neck.
Slingshot had been there to intervene, their neighbors in the surrounding apartments providing enough cover for them to flee.
The injuries Shuriken had sustained were not easily healed. She mourned that it was due to her neglecting to tend to them in their infancy.
Leaving was their only option.
On the pavement of the Crossroads, a shadow stalked them. A demon appeared before her and her brother's bleeding body like he'd been waiting to snatch them up long before night's assault.
The TRUE EYE offered them shelter.
It seemed like so long ago, her hesitance to accept. But there was nothing else. No one else but that impossibly happy, impossibly cold smile.
Initiation hadn't been too hard for her.
Admittedly, she had always been curious about the TRUE EYE. Katana's ever present contempt for the cult, the voice on the other end of a ruby-red telephone, and knowledge of her so-called blessing. But actively joining— giving up her own eye?
The thought never occurred to her. It was forbidden in her own mind, even.
In the beginning, they didn't let her lift a finger.
Burned into her brain was the glory and splendor of the Overseer. Prayers dug their way into her mind through her ears as she observed the daily practices of the Family.
She was even taught about Shuriken's previous work, how he'd been on the verge of becoming a new Son to the Overseer.
She figured he hadn't realized that yet.
Idiot
The longer she stayed, something in her heart moved her. To accept the grace of the One True God. A voice in her head, urging her soul to bow down to the Father of the TRUE EYE. A hand guiding, pulling, her to His embrace.
But she hardly recognizevoits cadence, its touch.
She had brushed it off as quickly as it had appeared. It was the instinct to protect her own, she told herself, twisted with the urgency of the situation.
The demon before her hummed, not at all concerned by her own dampened mood. It brought her back to reality, the tune she hardly recognized growing louder as she stayed quiet.
"...your brother's condition has stabilized." His voice came quieter, a facade of gentleness. "Have you visited him?"
"Yes, I have." Her volume matched his, though exhaustion flowed through each word. She could see a small glimmer of something in his eyes, something she could not recognize, most likely in reaction to her attitude.
"Having two healers working on him, I'm sure he'll get right back up again! Jumping and climbing, just like before, in no time." He spoke cheerfully, loudly, before rummaging through a drawer error at the vanity. He pulled out a thick golden ring, just about the circumference of her own horn.
"Surely you've met Medkit, yes?" He asked, tilting his head. All his movements were so eerily practiced, molded into a way to wane her guard.
Yet Vinestaff didn't have the energy to resist it tonight.
"...I have. We have spoken...briefly." She replied.
"Then you've seen the ring on his horns." The Broker moved closer, splitting the ring in two. He wrapped a single side between the middle of the top two spikes protruding from her left horn. He snapped it together, making her wince at the sound.
"It comes off easy, don't worry!" A playful note carried through his words. "It'll keep you safe here in the Temple."
A claim, she figured, as if her eye wasn't enough.
"I'd suggest keeping yourself and your brother here at the Church. That beastly traitor will be on the lookout for you." Broker's voice lowered, yet the giddy smile remained on his face. "Keep your head down and he won't find either of you for a long while."
She nodded dutifully.
Broker continued his tune, tapping his fingers along the vanity's desk. He thought for a moment, deciding what else she would need to know before her life reborn as a child of the Family begun.
Finally, he spoke.
"After your eye has healed, you'll assist the rest of our medical staff. It never hurts to have another hand, y'know? I'm sure your abilities will be valued there over any other job."
She nodded her voice too weak to mumble a “yes”, her hands fisted into the dress pants they'd had her change into.
He contiued outlining what her responsibilities would be, where she would be allowed to go and what she would be allowed to do. She left his speech uninterrupted in its entirety.
"For now, rest. You and your brother need your strength, after all." Only his voice softened. The older demon left her alone, his shoes clicking on the hardwood floor beneath them.
Vinestaff sat still, her blood buzzing under her skin. All kinds of thoughts swirled in her mind.
What Shuriken had done. What she'd done. His condition. The ache in her skull. The irreversible nature of it all.
Terror settled in her heart. It forced her onto her feet.
She paced around the empty house, trying to distract herself the best she could.
Ground yourself.
It was small compared to the others in the Church, but it was still larger than the apartment they'd shared with Slingshot.
There were two separate bedrooms, Broker had said, with a bathroom for each of them. She couldn't find herself relieved by the notion.
The sound of her feet against wood was the only sound in the house.
The windows were open, the desert sprawling outside. It was so different than the ever-green Thieves Den or the concrete jungle of the Crossroads.
Being in the natural world again was a relief. Yet the dry plains that she'd found herself in were so foreign.
Daily, when she first arrived, she'd notice plants she'd never seen before, only able to grow in the harsh lands of the Lost Temple. It excited her, made her giddy even in the darkness threatening to keeping her frozen.
But now, trying to focus on such things couldn't keep her mind from wandering to the more important matters at hand. Her previous joy only reminded her of the dire circumstances she'd landed her family into.
It was all out of her hands.
She wasn't given a moment to think.
She was rushed into every decision, forced into whatever world would preserve her and her brother's life.
They were so far from home now. Tears made their way down her cheeks.
It wasn't an unfamiliar experience, the two of them fled Thieves Den, too, long ago. They were all on their own in the big, expensive city of the Crossroads.
But they'd spent a much longer amount of time in that city than in the Theives’ forest. And they were still Thieves.
She'd miss waking up to the smell of dirt mixed with Sling's home-baked pastries, the busy, noisy streets of the Crossroads, and especially the backery sat home at the very top layer of the city.
She'd miss the noise of shattering one of Katana's tea dishes, even with how she now resented the demon.
Now everything was different, the ties to their old life, their old world, torn and cut.
It was a similar ache from when her arm had solidified into pure wood, from flesh to bone. The knowledge that it would spread to the rest of her— consume her, no matter what she did. Her death was already written out for her, the mystery of the event robbed from her. She was left to wait for the day she would be demon no more. Till her body rooted itself in the earth, lacking the warmth of a pulse.
Knowing that the world would never be the same, no matter what she tried to do. Hacking at her own body, starving herself— gulping down poisons and pesticides that she'd normally never touch in an attempt to reverse her fate.
Tears pricked in her eye as she remembered the day Shurkien came home, sheepishly hiding his arm behind his back. A tattoo that matched the wooded arm of her own.
Would he be different when he recovered? The thought instantly shot fear through her entire body. What would she do if he was different? If he lost the never-ending joy that always managed to bring a smile to her face?
She began to regret every time she'd been overly strict with him, annoyed at his cheerful and silly nature.
No one is the same after a near-death experience, the same was true to her after all. Tears only flowed faster down her cheeks. Panic settled in her bones.
The demon sobbed into her hands, loud and unrestrained. Everything she kept sealed tight freed itself.
It was all unfair, how the world stacked the cards against them, how she could never win against fate.
Guilt lay heavy on her shoulders, the demon so gladly stepping into the arms of such an institution. It pushed her to the ground, the hard floor welcoming her as coldly as the rest of the Lost Temple did.
She did not leave her spot until the sun came down, stuck crying on the ground, hiccuping and panting, doing anything to sustain herself as she grieved what her life had become.
She mourned the family she'd lost. She hoped Sling would forgive them for leaving, one day. She prayed to anyone deity to save them, to give her a true blessing for once.
The future seemed so distant as if the present was all that was left of the world.
In the coming days, Vinestaff was isolated. Broker stopped by now and then to check in her recovery. He never stayed long, though, never lingered more than he deemed necessary.
Her emotions had only grown more tumultuous.
The demon picked her spilled guts out from under her and shoved them back into herself, no matter if they were put back correctly.
Helplessness and despair bloomed into something more dangerous. She grew apathetic to all matters irrelevant to her brother.
Vinestaff moved with precision, her gaze lacking any warmth for the waking world.
Though they only spoke briefly during his visits, she learned two things from Broker.
One:
The TRUE EYE was built, if not at least maintained, by facades and masks. A smile was an essential part of the uniform, arguably the most important. What was unfavored was hidden. Ugliness shoved under carpets, cruelty crushed in already overflowing closets.
Appearance trumped truth in every scenario.
Two:
Kindness was a tool to be deployed and retracted when necessary. It was to be used strictly strategically. Actions that seemed to be out of the good of one's heart were simply favors waiting to be paid back in the long run.
Returning to the Family's hunting ground was rough, but she had made her mind up. Nothing could give her back her freedom, her eye.
In her newly gained “ferver” for Father Overseer, she applied these two principles with every step she took, with every breath in her lungs.
Diligently, she worked among their medical staff. Her smile became a permanent fixture on her face. She never raised her voice, never scolded or snarled. She was perfectly calm and pleasant. Acceptable and digestible.
She took work from her seniors in stride, complaints locked within her throat with no chance of escape. She aided her juniors, always offering them actionable advice.
She swam with the current, submitting to the everlasting love of their new Father. Their “One True God.”
But that was no easy task.
The TRUE EYE was despicable, just as Katana had warned.
Cruelty shown freely towards their detractors. A general air of apathy was prevalent in most conversations. They were snide and condescending. Rumors and gossip swirled constantly, leaving no one unscaved.
Those of lower social rank, whatever the reason may be, were loaded with most of the hard labor. Their peers would command them to take their responsibilities and complete them for them, enforcing these rules with threats.
Even poor living conditions could not be hidden from her. The less important Family members were trapped in poverty, even within the Church's walls. Inadequate housing that was falling apart alongside being tasked with dangerous jobs and chores. They never complained though, willingly taking the injustice as the Overseer's will.
And the trips…
Groups of Family members, all trained in combat, ventured out into the desert. Their missions included a variety of tasks.
Quelling rebellions, converting those disillusioned by SFOTH, trades to other factions, transporting supplies to the villages under His watch, and anything that couldn't be solved within the walls of the Church.
She'd often see the remains of failed or half-completed missions. Bloody demons on the last leg of their lives, missing limbs, large gashes, pus clogged infections, burns, and unimaginable gore were all unfortunate cases that were handed off to her by squeamish nurses because of her “gift.”
A few times she tried to ask what caused such intense injury, but rarely she received truthful answers from her patients.
Caring for them exhausted her. Her abilities were overworked daily. Constant healing and mending, with expectation to never slow down.
Never hesitate.
The successful missions were worse, in her opinion. She'd nearly vomited after catching a glimpse of Scythe's wall of horns. Katana hadn't warned her about that at all.
Needless violence and death, it was unrelenting.
The obscenities the Family kept eroded her core. Irritation compounded in her with every word these demons spoke.
All of this disgust, however, could not be found on the demon's face.
No, a smile always rested on her lips.
Vinestaff was ever patient, ever kind.
She was whatever they wanted her to be.
With each day, the horror within her became more docile. Numbness seeped its way into every one of her veins.
She felt guilty. How could she do so little?
But what other option did she have? She was complacent, yet if she dared speak against the Church, she'd surely be disposed of.
Today, she felt like she was at the end of her rope. Heavy emotions ricocheted within her skull.
She'd found out another of her wonderful ”siblings” had been slandering her throughout the entire week. Claiming she was attempting to infiltrate her way into the Acolytes, in some attempt to receive the Overseer's acknowledgment. To tempt Him with her “blessing.”
Her fellow medics decided the best line of action would be to ignore her, leaving her to attend to the entirety of the ward as a result.
Luckily for her, only a few demons lingered in the rows of hospital beds. It gave her time for more important matters.
She was promised a room for Shuriken, separate and private from the other patients the medbay harbored. A twisted kindness they'd no doubt expect a repayment for.
Shuriken was regaining his strength, ever slowly.
His recovery was far more disorderly than she had wished. She was unable to attend to him as often due to her other duties. She couldn't visit him very often either, only having the time to see him after he'd fallen asleep.
Vinestaff knocked on the doorframe, cautiously entering the room.
The demon sat up instantly, wide-eyed at the state of his older sister.
He was full of apologies, of guilt. Before, she may have shown him the wrath of a fiercely protective, grief struck sister, yet…
She hugged him as tight as possible, not uttering a word. The feelings of before crashed into her.
This was the first time she'd seen him awake since the incident.
He was alive, right in front of her.
His arms slowly encircled her torso. Tears flowed freely from his intact eyes.
They were both quiet, sniffling filling the stale room.
Shuriken was full of questions, naturally. She couldn't blame him.
She tried to explain everything the best she could, greeted with a horrified face of shock with each new word. It only pooled more shame into her.
He seemed nervous, scared even at the reality he awoke to.
“Are you okay? Your eye–”
“It has already healed.” She nodded, dismissing any notion of her own suffering.
He tried reaching out to touch her face. She caught his hand and placed it on the bed instead.
She could only give him warnings, telling him to steel himself before He set His eye on him. Her voice was stern, like she was lecturing him. She didn't leave room for idle chatter.
The more they talked the more she regretted putting him here. He was a light the Family would no doubt snuff out. He'd be fit into a tight box, molded into a dull and heartless monster.
Vinestaff had to leave when the sun began to set, a full day of work ahead of her.
Out of the growing darkness walked the devil.
“Vinestaff! It's been a while, hasn't it?” Broker's awfully cheery voice broke through the natural murmur of the desert surrounding them. His hands were held behind his back.
“...it has. It's nice to see you again, Mr. Broker.” She bowed politely, her the hairs on her body standing straight up.
“Mm, there's no need for that now. We're family now, aren't we?” He chuckled, moving closer.
“Is he well?” His eyes flicked to the window of Shuriken's room.
She nodded.
“Perfect.” A suggestive smirk formed on his face and his live eye sparkled with a mysterious glint.
It scared her, put every muscle in her body on high alert.
He continued, stepping closer.
“Unfortunately, Doc's busy helping ol’ Scythe. It wouldn't be a problem normally but…” He laughed. Vinestaff couldn't tell if it was meant to put her at ease or get her attention. “We've got our hands tied up. Wouldn't want to send valuable cargo without a healer on the team, y'know? Too much of a risk.”
The thought of joining them on any type of sick trip made her nauseous. She wanted to refuse. To go crawl back to the Theives Den, to the Crossroads, even if it meant Katana would have her life.
She didn't want any hand in this, yet…
She knew the ever smiling demon wasn't asking.
Tentatively, she straightened her spine, making the bravest face she could.
“When are we leaving?” Her words were chosen to give the illusion she was fully on board, calm yet eager.
“...mmm, tomorrow?” He shut his eyes, tapping his foot against the dirt.
“It'll be a good experience, Vinestaff.” His easygoing smile made her sick. It mocked the precious way Shuri and Sling used to call for her. “Depending on your performance, you could catch the attention of the Father. He's quite the knowledgeable demon.”
Words like that meant nothing to her. Not until he looked down at her wooden arm.
What he was suggesting only fueled the resentment in her.
“I will do my best.” She bowed, in some phony show of respect.
Broker seemed satisfied with that, patting her on the shoulder. What she would give to throw him off of her.
“Be up early! They'll leave around dawn. At the gate.” He waved, not looking back at her. “Goodnight then, Vinestaff. Get some rest.”
She didn't relax her body, not until he vanished into the darkness.
Her heart was beating rapidly, trying to escape her ribs and join the desert. Maybe get eaten by a coyote.
Everything she'd ever wanted, ever needed was being held over her head. She wanted to tear her hair out, sob until her body rotted and only bark remained.
But not a drop came from her eyes. She'd shut herself closed.
A malicious weed had been tangling around her heart. Like the wood of her arm, it sunk its roots into her flesh. She was only vaguely aware of it when it first sprouted.
A parasite.
Fury, despair, and hatred fed the unruly flora. It fueled her viciousness, her apathy.
And it grew and grew and grew. She had made no move to stop it.
This world had taken everything from her. Her family, their safety, her eye, even her empathy lost to fate.
Left unable to even cry.
Vinestaff felt something within her. It flowered, threatening to overtake her.
She didn't know how but she managed to drag herself back into Shuri's room. On her knees, she rested her head near his hand.
Sleep wasn't far from her, she could feel it.
Whatever was rooting itself in her, she couldn't find any reason to protest.
As her eyes became heavy, she decided. She would keep the little bud, protect it as if it was the last of herself.
