[Word count 1004] On One Lordeth and An Other Serveth
[Insert fake ass vague description pretending to be deep]
Repost with minor edits because yes and because i am not motivated enough to write something new so i just edited a previous version of something ive written and pretend its a new one. not like it matters because mmm me whe
The doors quietly waited for Ying’an.
Should he be grateful that he was given mercy and left alive, or should he accept that sense of dread that he is, unfortunately, alive and has to once again open the doors leading to the source of his fears with his own hands?
He stood before the doors today just like he did yesterday. He imagined doing this tomorrow. And he imagined a future where every single day started with opening this particular set of doors.
“You are free to leave if that is what you want.”
He said he can leave whenever. But can he? Once he leaves, where can he go?
He was pathetic. Breaking down in front of a god he was supposed to serve? If he were killed, he would have deserved it. Nobles have sometimes killed servants for less, or so he was told.
In that case, why did he let him live? Let him walk away alive, possibly knowing Ying’an would just run away, never to return? He… just allowed Ying’an to lose all his composure in front of a god, and he did not mind it? Was it all a trick, a test to determine his worth?
Living on the streets like he used to? Surviving off rotten food again?
Ying’an took a deep breath and pushed the doors open, hoping they would stay open for him if he ever decided to leave.
He was greeted by a rushing sense of fear… and him, who is awake and sitting by the table.
“Good morning, Ying’an!”
Ying’an quickly bowed to him. “Good morning, my lord.” No, wait, he should not call him that. “Um—”
“That’s alright, you can call me that if that’s what you prefer.”
Ying’an would have expected a more… upsetting reaction from him. Was this also a trick for him to lower his guard, just to enjoy breaking him more later? Was the act yesterday also part of the ploy?
Supposedly with his features all magnified in the perspective of Ying’an, he found him harder to read than anyone else he had met in his life. His large visage had only ever shown a gentle smile that barely reached his eyes, and eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly that it could mean anything from frustration to concern.
To not know what someone is thinking is uncertainty, and uncertainty has never meant safety. Would Ying’an know the answer if he stayed for longer? Would he die for this?
Maybe he should think about this after work. Assuming he lived long enough for that.
He still needed to stall for his survival, for as long as possible. For that, he needed to stay, to learn what keeps him alive, to use it against him if necessary.
“My lord, may…may I ask what dietary requirements I must adhere to? Um, during your mealtimes?”
Hopefully it was not worded too informally or offensive. His eyes only had the courage to look at the ground and nothing else, all while under a higher being’s gaze, contemplating his question.
“Well…if I really have to say, I must admit, I find it rather difficult eating alone.”
A silent sigh of relief came out of Ying’an. It wasn’t exactly something Ying’an had to adjust in his food preparation, though it was still a problem he could solve, luckily enough. Not some impossible issue beyond his ability. “Yes, my lord, I will arrange to have someone of high status to dine w—”
“Ying’an, will you dine with me instead?”
Him, Ying’an, to dine with a god?! No. Absolutely not. Surely he’s not going to eat with a lowly commoner of all the people he could choose from, Ying’an is more likely to become the feast itself if he agreed to this.
This is a test, a test in which the correct answer is not “yes”.
Yet, he could not explicitly reject a god’s offer.
What can he do?
“My lord, I believe it is inappropriate for someone as lowly as myself to dine with you…” Ying’an treaded cautiously.
“If I take into account social status, Ying’an, even the King is too lowly to dine with.”
“Exactly, my lord, so I have even less of a r—”
“I mean that I don’t care about fancy titles, Ying’an.” Everytime he spoke his name, it sent shivers through Ying’an’s body, as if he casted a spell everytime his name was said. “You don’t need to accept this offer if it causes you discomfort, however.”
“I won’t force you to obey me.”
This is a test.
This is definitely a test.
How can he pass this without direct rejection?
Ying’an felt his palms soak his clothing, and he blinked harder to chase the tears away. He couldn’t cry now. He might have spared him yesterday, but a god’s mind can be fickle and unpredictable, his death could be anytime from the very next moment or the next hundred years.
His life depended on his wit, and Ying’an was sure he had none of that. He couldn’t say no. He couldn’t say yes. Can he stall it? Can delaying the answer be the solution?
Silence filled the large chamber, along with the god’s anticipation for an answer. Maybe he would die if he didn’t say something fast enough.
“May—may I take some time to consider it?”
“There’s no rush.” He casually replied, and Ying’an could not know for sure if the god was sincere in his answer. He could only hope his nonchalance was real. “I suppose I will see you again for lunch, then?”
He…gave him an excuse to leave? Ying’an no longer needed to endure his presence until lunch? His shoulders immediately relaxed, and only then did he notice how stiff his standing position was the entire time. “Yes, my lord!” He bowed to the god out of fear, but mostly relief, before walking as fast as possible to the doors, trying his best not to sprint or run or skip.
Doors separated the two, even if both shared the prison.
can you perhaps draw some spool x citrus stuff and maybe just a lil doodle of mushroom i havent seen you draw mushroom yet and i rlly wanna see what she looks like in your style cause your art is COOL ASF!!!! >:3
