The Last Dahlia

002

If the Phoenix was one of the most well-known figures across the five kingdoms, then the White Scorpion was a legend of the same standing.

There were some who would consider him a physician of sorts, roaming the lands and rescuing the occasional lucky soul from the brink of death, but mostly the people of the five kingdoms knew him as the king of poisons. Like his namesake, this was one deadly individual that you would hope never to meet, just in case you ended up with a body full of blisters and pustules like the poor young sailor who was now writhing in anguish in a corner of the ship's galley. That was already a considerably good outcome for someone who dared cross paths with the White Scorpion; in the worst case scenario your mother wouldn't even be able to identify your dead, festering body.

"Why do you always wear white?" That was the first question that Yuehwa asked Shoya, after they were done with the unnecessarily courteous introductions.

"Because I can."

"But you peddle poisons for a living. White gives people the impression of purity and goodness, yet your entire existence is the complete opposite of what the colour stands for. Did you ever think of trying a different colour? Black maybe?"

"Did you ever consider using a different coloured flower instead of always leaving behind a red dahlia when you've completed one of your jobs?" he retorted.

"I'm the Phoenix, and everyone knows that phoenixes are reborn in flames," Yuehwa explained patiently, "hence the colour red. At least my choice of colour makes some logical sense."

"Hmm," Shoya pondered upon her words for a second, before replying, "I suppose you're right, but white is still my favourite colour, so I don't see why I need to change it just to pander to people's stereotypes. Whoever decreed that white had to be the colour of purity and all things good and wonderful anyway? Don't people wear white when they're mourning? White could just as well be the colour of death."

"Good point."

Right now, Yuehwa was lying on her bed, her arms propped behind her head as she engaged in this pointless conversation with her newfound acquaintance. As for him, he was lying in a similar manner, except that he was balancing on top of one of the wooden beams above with the white fabric of his robes flowing neatly downwards. Yuehwa's companion Ember was observing the man suspiciously from his new position by the porthole ledge, since he had been rudely displaced by this intruder.

"What did the poor sailor steal from you that landed him with such a gruesome punishment?" Yuehwa asked, changing the topic.

"My lunch."

"And what were you going to have for lunch that warranted stealing?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Shoya raised an eyebrow and asked, though he still replied obligingly. "I was going to have amberjack stew with pickled jellyfish on the side. I only stepped out from the galley for two seconds to fetch some condiments but the fellow already managed to put two mouthfuls of stew and an extra mouth of jellyfish into his belly. If he had asked politely I would have warned him, but he didn't, so too bad."

Yuehwa peered curiously at the man on the beam. "You put poison into your own food? Are you thatmasochistic?"

"Poisons are not always poisons. It depends on the conditions, except few people understand what those conditions are," Shoya explained. "The essences of hyacinth, hogweed and poison ivy, when put together can indeed make a person explode in blisters and stinking pustules, but when you add in a dash of lily bulbs to the fray, all their individual toxic effects can be effectively neutralised. Also, it gives your stew a refreshing flavour, somewhat like the taste of morning dewdrops mixed with truffles." He licked his lips at the mention of the stew's flavour. "Most delicious."