prompt - pursuit of diligence chapter 06

PROMPT - PURSUIT OF DILIGENCE: CHAPTER 06

Succubun - MYO-4927, Aysel + mention of others owned by me
Cherubun - NPC, Primrose

It was time! For the first time in… ever, Aysel had awoken well before his alarm, and fixed himself up at the speed of light. As his quartet of albino imps squeaked around him, obviously confused as to why their source of warmth was leaving them so early, he hastily stuffed whatever he thought he’d need today into his bag. “Shh, please pipe down,” he whispered, their dejected little sounds only aggravated more because of it. But it was alright: nothing could bring his spirits down today.

Despite knowing that he could not ingest ambrosia or he’d be in for a bad time, he was still excited; these tasks had done a shockingly good job of making him feel like this was the moment of truth, the point he had worked toward, the, uh… the… Well, anyway, it was a good day, and he was looking forward to spending it at the Heavenly Embassy!

All geared up, the little sloth succubun scurried out of his bedroom, followed by a trail of protesting imps, and slammed the door behind him.

“You’re up,” Will said, seated at the head of the table, clearly quite flabbergasted. He was still donning bedroom robes himself, with an obvious bedhead to boot, but in his defense, it was pretty darn early… and usually he spent the morning hours without his roommate’s company anyway.

The table was also only made for one person, but Aysel simply fetched his own plate from the kitchen and scooted in regardless.

“Umm, don’t you mean I’m up early?” He smiled shyly, lifting Pillow off the table before he could make his disdain known by getting into the strawberry spread. No idea if consuming it would turn him pink like a dango would, but Aysel would rather not risk it.

“That too, but… I suppose I’m still not used to seeing you up at all.” Will rubbed his chin, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. “Though you’ve got plenty of reason to be happy, I reckon. This’ll be your last day as a volunteer. Means you’ll be free soon.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Aysel whined. “I’m not finishing up today just to be free, you know..! It was actually pretty fun. I wanna see it done.” Breakfast was quickly prepared and consumed; he even managed to sneak an extra piece of fresh bread into his bag before Snoozle could steal it from his grip.

Will’s eyes softened considerably with his smile, and as he rose to his feet to clean up the leftovers, he raked his fingers through Aysel’s hair. The gesture was tender. “Good job, tiny,” he said, the rumble in his voice bringing color to Aysel’s cheeks. “Proud of you. I’ll see you at dinner, make sure you don’t blow anything up in feather town.”

Pfft, as if! Relishing an extra boost of confidence, Aysel wished his roommate a good day. He gave each of his imps a little peck on its little head in hopes that would soothe them for the time being, moved to leave the house… changed his mind and gave Will’s loafki a little smooch as well to ensure she wouldn’t feel left out, and finally stepped outside.

He knew what he was doing this time: he had already bumbled through this trip before, and he would not let it happen again. Ahh, at long last, he would see the flowers he had planted and watered and probably sort-of-raised be turned into ambrosia. Maybe he would even get to assist, if Primrose deemed him, um—perhaps ‘worthy’ was a strong word. But Aysel really wasn’t sure whether he would actually entrust him with the tools. He had heard him mutter out his doubts last week, after all!

They had a funny relationship, he felt like. The blonde cherubun didn’t seem to particularly dislike him after all the work they had done together, but to say he thought the world of him may be a bit of a stretch. Some sort of fondness could be a good way to put it, like one might be fond of a clumsy imp?

Meh, whatever it was, Aysel would take it.

On his way to the Embassy, he still got lost a couple of times; he had no photographic memory, so it was a given. But, he didn’t struggle half as bad with getting back on track, and he also didn’t need to stalk a cherubun from just barely enough distance to not make it creepy.

In the end, he arrived at the familiar building well on time, and found Primrose waiting for him in the hallway they usually took to get to the gardens.

“The moment of truth has arrived!” the cherubun said, pointedly placing his arms akimbo on his waist. He looked very pleased. “You have planted seeds, watered them, harvested the flowers—and today, I shall show you how we make our beloved ambrosia. Come, follow me.”

Hm. The wording suggested Aysel would only get to watch. As much of a shame as it was… he had expected it, and he supposed it was for the best. Ambrosia was a pretty big deal to these guys.

Primrose took him to some sort of science installation that had been set up by the planter they had been using, showcasing all kinds of equipment Aysel had never seen before. The flowers they had harvested last week sat in a large, glass tray, ready for use: stalks, leaves, petals, the whole shebang.

His eyes widened, and he curiously inched closer as Primrose settled himself behind all the equipment like a doctor in a lab.

“Now, watch me closely,” the cherubun said strictly, snapping his fingers to gain Aysel’s undivided attention. The gesture was a little uncalled for, but he didn’t seem to be irritated or anything. Just very, very serious, so much so that it was almost funny. “This is the single most important step in the entire process I have guided you through these past weeks, and I do not want this to get messy. One misstep, and all our hard work will have been for naught.”

Sheesh, all of it, seriously? Aysel nervously fiddled with his back strap. Primrose better do well, then!

Primrose snapped a set of thick gloves into place and got to work, talking Aysel through the entire process with detailed verbal instructions. The succubun watched, ensnared by the other’s capable hands, as he boiled the stalks until the air surrounding them was filled with an odd, somewhat bitter smell. More interesting yet was how he elegantly tossed all kinds of ingredients into a wide, brass pot: water, mashed ambrosia flower petals, sugar, Aysel was sure some greenish powder disappeared into the brew too…

Not before long, the blonde had prepared three vials of ambrosia, all serving a different purpose: one was medicinal in nature, one was to be enjoyed like a nice drink after a long day (cherubuns only, of course… unfortunately, because it looked incredibly tasty…), and the last one… Primrose didn’t quite specify what it might do, but he did use Aysel’s mushrooms as a hint.

Aysel did not, in fact, get the hint.

“Alright, you have observed me closely, I presume?”

“Mhm! You’re so cool.”

“Er… thank you. Well, come on, now it’s your turn.”

.. Huh, really? But I thought that- Aysel started into motion when he was pulled into Primrose’s spot, and quickly took the sturdy gloves he was offered. “Wait, uh, what?” he stammered. “I mean, I-I want to make some, it looks fun! But are you… sure?”

“Such a preposterous question! Of course I am.” Primrose crossed his arms, his prying eyes watching Aysel’s every move. “You have shown exceptional work ethics these past weeks—for a sloth succubun, that is. I must admit I had my doubts, but you have proven yourself very reliable in spite of your vice. These flowers were the result of your hard work, so after all is said and done, I don’t see why I shouldn’t let you finish awhat you started.”

Oh..! Huh…

Feeling warm and fuzzy in his chest, Aysel put on the gloves. He really had tried his best, even if his best was someone else’s daily cakewalk, and the verbal acknowledgement did something to him he couldn’t describe. Never before had he felt this accomplished, and under the strict guidance of Primrose, he happily got to work. And although Primrose was much quicker to jump in than he had been with any other prior task, it was mostly because ambrosia was simply very difficult to make for someone who had never done so before—not because he did not trust Aysel to do a good job, once he got the hang of it.

The fact that someone was trusting him to do well where normally, he would not even be considered if something needed to be done, may just be the most rewarding feeling of all.

The question would remain as to whether six weeks were enough to incite permanent change in someone who had been set in their ways for over twenty years, but… a shot never fired is a shot always missed. One step had to be the first, and Aysel did feel like he had taken a few more steps than just one.