Before she could speak, some flower-girls had made their way over, offering beguiling smiles and servile bows as they guided them to their tables.
What's wrong with me? Was I really going to attack this man without reason? Have I gone mad?!
After jer tightened chest eased, she exhaled deeply to release all the air she had swallowed just moments ago.
Her assigned flower-girl delicately led her to one of the few vacant low tables, each separated by a thin glimmering veil for partial privacy.
A small carved stone slate was placed in front of her beside an empty pouch, indicating the house fee needed to remain, as well as the fee needed per attendance of a flower-girl.
It even mentioned in smaller writing that a different slate could be given for private room prices.
Salīa paid to keep her seat and solely for the flower-girl with her, adding gratuity to the flower-girl's delight. She faded away to the madam, then returned with a drink.
Her dainty fingers poured the rice wine.
After Salīa's foolishness in Oggl, she wanted to refuse but took a sip on custom.
"Tsubaki greets you," the flower-girl tilted her cup, her cheeks tinged with blush.
She was quite young, around Salīa's age, and had soft braids hooked by a simple hairpin.
"Greetings, Tsubaki," Salīa clinked cups.
"Tsubaki greets you," she heard again, but this time it was from another girl, at the table next to her.
A patron had just seated down in the deepest alcove of the main hall, and their drinks lay upon the largest table of the lot.
It didn't take long for Salīa to surmise that that seat was certainly reserved for patrons willing to pay handsomely.
She could barely see through the barrier, but a sudden prickling in her chest gave it away, long before she caught the glimpse of that dark conical sedge hat.
It's him again.
"Wanderer?" Tsubaki looked up to Salīa, blinking her doe eyes. "Are you well?"
"Hmm-mm."
She observed the other tables, all filled with men tended by one-to-many flower-girls, all with names such as Hinagiku and Tsutsuji, with the option of being called the common tongue name of Daisy and Azalea.
It seemed all had disguised themselves under floral names. This was common in brothels, too, but seemed to be a given in flower-houses.
"You call yourself Tsubaki?"
"Or Camellia if you prefer," she said in her pleasant, dulcet tone.
"I don't. But I heard that flower-girl also calls herself…"
"Oh, yes," she smiled and nodded to the other Tsubaki. "My older sister, but only by a few years. I'm Shiro Tsubaki, and that's Kiiroi Tsubaki."
"Like the famous poem, Tsubaki, by the poet, Ashiro," someone with a decadent, resonant voice said. "The one that talks of a gardener whose reed fortress holds all three camellias, as advised by the son of the lotus, in hopes that he may seduce a butterfly.
Observe the beauty
Of loving,
Of longing
Of waiting,
Of sacrifice
My lover is evergreen and long-lasting
But I do not know time or how it passes
Unless my lover shows me her flower
Pleading that I hurry to bring her to bloom
I still do not know time
But I do spend time tasting
A nectar only gifted if I…
Observe the beauty."
The words came as a deep, low rumbling. Salīa traced it to the man who said nothing more. She'd never heard the poem before, but couldn't help but think it somewhat perverse.
"Ah, yes," cheered the Tsubaki by him. "We know that one well, as it's often sung here at Echo. I'm Kiiroi, as the yellow camellia of longing. My younger sister over there is the white camellia of waiting."
"Our older sister," both said, their heads tilting to the pretty madam. "Is Aka Tsubaki. Of loving and sacrifice."
Just then, the madam looked over, her eyes flickering between Salīa and the stranger, then her sisters.
She half-smiled and walked on, observing other patrons.
"Do you like poems or songs, wanderer?" Shiro asked Salīa. "I write many and sing plenty and would love to share them with you."
How charming.
In unison, both sisters edged to the barrier between Salīa and the stranger, as if aware that neither patron wanted to converse with the other.
"I'd love to hear anything you'd like to share with me, Shiro. But let's start with stories, if you have any. That Tsubaki one seemed fascinating."
Shiro nodded. She then lifted a finger as if realizing something and placed down a carved slate showing foods and drinks being offered.
Once Salīa tapped it, not shy to order plenty and pay with more gratuity, this flower-girl sauntered away and danced back in flow with the vibrant music.
She then poured more rice wine.
"Tsubaki roots to many places, wanderer. Yet while we are proud to be the Trusted Tsubaki Sisters, we were merely inspired by the True Tsubaki Sisters."
No words were being exchanged at the table beside them, and so Salīa could only assume the stranger was interested in the story as well.
"Forgive me, I do not know who they are."
"They were three sisters who lived about twenty years ago, back when magic tribes were still praised.
I was only a babe, Kiiroi too, when we lived on the outskirts of Timbana and Raan.
But Aka was an older child, and so she remembered meeting the Tsubaki Sisters of the Hikami Tribe clearly."
"Hikami Tribe? You mean…"
Some other patrons and flower-girls' ears tilted at those words. Shiro Tsubaki whispered, "Yes. The tribe of the Shadow Guardians, followers of Muna – the mother prophetess, and practitioners of shadow and cyclical magic. Also referred to as death magic."
Her voice was barely audible for those last words.
"But back then, the Hikami Tribe was known for nurturing, loving, and healing before their genoc—"
"Shh."
The sound was subtle, but clearly from the neighboring sister.
"I mean…before their rightful execution of continuing practice. The True Tsubaki sisters were just little girls then, older than Kiiroi and me, but younger than Aka.
They were quite skilled, having learned from their older brother. They used what they learned to help those in their village and spent the rest of their time doting on their younger brother. Before their death, they had healed hundreds of travelers.
Being witness to such, Aka encouraged us as three sisters who heal in our own way, to become the Trusted Tsubaki sisters. We may not use magic, but we ensure your time with us feels magical."
Salīa caught a smile from Aka as she passed by, seemingly satisfied with her sister's words. Just then, other flower-girls arrived with flower-shaped bowls and painted plates, all filled with various delights.
There were savory fried pancakes, picked vegetables, steaming greens doused in sesame oil and soy sauce, right down to a large boiling pot fragrant with a spicy gochujang broth filled with tofu, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and dumplings.
Noting Salīa eagerness to bite in, Shiro Tsubaki giggled and artfully dished for her at a leisurely pace. Salīa nodded for her to eat as well, yet the flower-girl only took small bites.
Laughter floated throughout the hall as jokes were told and riddles revealed, dice were slapped across tables and paper folded and flipped for all sorts of games, while clapping cut up the air in boisterous cheer as the night soared on.
Salīa intended to overhear as much as she could, another reason she didn't keep too much company or go upstairs, but it was tricky to catch more than just a few words.
There was mention of battle here and there, talk of trendy trades, laws lifted, costs shifting, events upcoming, and gossip of various royals, nobles, and guardians.
Though nothing about anything Salīa cared to hear.
"Any other stories you might like?"
Shiro spoke astutely, having noticed that while Salīa was playing a table game with her, her presence was elsewhere.
"Your essence feels highly auspicious, like that of a celestial being. You may not favor superstition, but please indulge me in wanting to honor those I believe are meant to be exulted. Tell me what you wish, and I'll grant it if I can."
She has quite the talent. I could ask her about the black masks, but since this land homes outlanders, it might be a risk.
"I've heard that a nearby upper land was caught in flames not too long ago."
That should be enough without exposing myself.
"Salazā was that land," Shiro sighed. "I admit, you may prefer my sisters over me for such talk. I hear some things, but it might not interest you."
"I like you, so feel free to speak on."
Shiro blushed and nodded. After a long pause, she got closer to Salīa, glancing around several times, before whispering.
"Some say it's a sign of a pending war between the upper lands of the realm. A repeat of the war between the Quadrant Lands of the ancient times."
That's quite the speculation. I thought she'd instantly bring up the black masks instead. Why would any upper land fight against Salazā? We're all in good standing.
"Tell me more."
"It all goes back to the prophecy."
Salīa froze, yet quickly swallowed up some dumplings to seem relaxed.
"How so?"
"You know how all the prophecies are named in old vagarī? Well, the prophecy shared during the time of the Quadrant Lands was called The Prophecy of Concealment.
Each prophecy since has had several names, but this recent prophecy of about twenty years back was translated to be called The Prophecy of Revelation. A direct opposite. Some say it also translates as The Last Prophecy."
Shiro sipped anxiously.
"Many believe it's apocalyptic as rumors say it was delivered by a harbinger of chaos, who fractured the pieces to show that our fates are forever broken and once pieced together, we will truly fall apart."
A heavy sigh was released before she leaned over, right to Salīa's ear.
"They say this harbinger of chaos was the…Demon King."
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