Here's part B of section 2 to this
Fic.
Hope you're enjoying it thus far!
- Jennifer
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"So what did you get in your trip through town this morning?"
Mitsukake curiously asked Miaka, pulling his roan up to the horse that
she and Tamahome shared. She flashed him a brilliant smile, and reached
into her fur-lined coat, seeking the hidden pocket. Within seconds, she
produced a small, intricately designed dagger, hidden within a sturdy,
leather sheath.
"Nuriko and I got a matching pair!" she announced, holding the weapon
out for him to see. Mitsukake took it in his hand, and steadied his
grip on the reins before exposing the sharp blade. It glinted in the
noon-time sunlight, its silver edges smooth and sharp. A small,
polished garnet twinkled from the center of the bound handle.
"Very nice," he appraised, resheathing the dagger and handing it back
to her. "It is crafted and balanced well."
"I still don't understand why you need it," Tamahome complained,
obviously annoyed. "You've got six Seishi here to protect you."
Chichiri's horse suddenly appeared on the other side of Miaka's, and
he jumped into the conversation, his fox-like face smiling
mischievously. "Not to mention Emperor Hotohori's chi-filled sword, na
no da."
Miaka smiled and shrugged. "We thought it would be nice to have
something to remember our adventure by when this is all over."
"Your end may come sooner than you think, Miko of Suzaku!" a man's
voice called out from the forest somewhere in front of them. Tamahome
pulled short the horse, and stopped, searching for the possible threat.
Likewise, the others did the same, and for several minutes, nothing but
the horses hooves scrunching on the packed snow of the road, and their
own breaths, could be heard. The forest was like a silent, smothering
presence all around them, hiding all sorts of imaginary monsters.
Without warning, Tamahome pushed Miaka to the side and out of harm's
way, just a milli-second before something wet and razor-sharp pierced
his upper, right arm. His cry of pain was loud in the hushed space.
Miaka gasped as she felt herself shoved aside roughly. She lost her
balance and fell out of the saddle, landing awkwardly on the hard
ground below. There was a loud crack as she struck the solid earth, and
hot pain flashed throughout her body. She gasped for breath, sucking in
the frigid, wintry air as she did so, and gasped again as the pain in
her side stabbed at her mercilessly.
Above her, Tamahome's horse reared, it's hooves threatening to trample
her as its rider struggled with the reigns and his wounded shoulder.
Miaka rolled out of the way just as the stallion's two front legs
stomped down where her head would have been. She continued rolling,
despite the pain in her ribs, until she felt the snow-covered
undergrowth of the forest surround her.
She paused, knowing that she was off of the road, and out of immediate
danger.
Glancing up quickly, she had just enough time to scream a futile
warning as a giant wave of water smashed into the horses at high speed.
The rush washed over the animals, knocking their footing from under
them. All of the Seishi struggled to keep from losing their saddles,
and themselves, within the strange, unexpected attack. In the back of
the pack, she heard a cry from Chiriko's lips, as the young boy tumbled
off the horse he shared with Tasuki, and was crushed into the side of a
tree at full force by another mysterious conduit of water. Miaka
watched, helplessly, as her youngest Seishi lost consciousness
instantly, his splattered blood painting his parka a nasty crimson.
She screamed Chiriko's name, feeling tears gather in her eyes, praying
that she could get to him in time...
Standing, painfully, on shaky legs, she started towards her friend,
only to be blocked by a funnel of water appearing before her. From
within it, a shadowy figure materialized, and then a hand reached out,
grasping the front of Miaka's shirt. It pulled her towards the leering
face of a man, his blue eyes narrowed in wickedness.
"Well, Maiden of Suzaku," he addressed her with a sneer. "It seems
that you're not half as good as I expected you to be." The man grinned
maliciously, and snickered, continuing to pull her towards the center
of the liquid whirlwind. "Ashura's sure to reward me for bringing you
to her."
Miaka struck out, kicking and punching, and finally, her fist
connected with the man's chin, knocking him back. His grip loosened on
her chemise, and she took the opportunity to escape. Forcing past the
pain, using the rush of adrenaline to propel her, she ran as far and as
fast as she could, grasping at her wounded side as she did so.
Back, into the depths of the overgrown forest, Miaka ran, until
finally, her legs could go no further. She collapsed onto her knees,
feeling the hard ground underneath tear at them, but paid little heed
to it. Her side was burning now, and as she took her hand away, she
could see the blood seeping through her school uniform quickly.
She was hurt - badly.
Had Mitsukake made it out alright too? If so, he might be able to help
her. She glanced around, looking for him, and stopped. There was no one
around, and the sounds of her friends' struggles were silent. The road
was nowhere to be seen either. Panic gripped Miaka, twisting at her
insides until they felt knotted.
She was lost.
Stopping short, she cut off the growing fears, forcing herself to
remain calm. Surely, Tamahome would find her; he always came to her
rescue. She only had to wait for him, and he would appear, albeit
worried and upset at her for having run so far away. He would
undoubtedly scold her, and then hug and kiss her, and everything would
be alright again. Yes, she only had to wait for Tamahome.
Holding onto her side, applying pressure in the hopes of stopping the
bleeding, she huddled behind a tree, and waited, listening intently to
the quiet forest around her. Settling wood, or the snap of
snow-burdened branches were the only sounds, however, and after a long
wait, the cold started seeping through her coat. Blowing on her
quickly-numbing fingers, Miaka shivered uncontrollably, waiting and
hoping.
After what seemed an eternity, when the dark canopy of the forest
began to darken further with the coming of late afternoon, the sounds
of approaching footsteps crunching through the icy snow came towards
her. Miaka froze, not sure of who the approaching stranger was. If it
was Tamahome or one of the others, surely they would have called out to
her by now.
She scrunched up into a tighter, smaller ball, pressing her knees
against her chest, and breathing into her jacket to keep the steam from
giving away her position, just in case. Her heart beat loudly in her
ears, and a gnawing terror began to creep up into her throat as the
footsteps got closer each second.
Then, they halted and there was silence again. Miaka, eyes wide, ears
straining to hear, froze as well.
The whinny of a horse as it snuffed startled her. She turned slightly
to look over her right shoulder, and there, directly-diagonal from her,
Chichiri's horse stood, its owner nowhere nearby. Had the animal simply
gotten lost in the confusion and ended up, like her, out here as well?
Miaka chose to look at it as a good omen, and, painfully uncurled,
forcing herself to stand and walk towards the beast. Maybe she'd be
able to ride it back to find help. Her side was slightly numb, but she
could feel where the seeping blood had begun to congeal, sticking to
the fabric of her shirt under her thick, fur-lined jacket. It peeled
away from the skin underneath as she moved, and she pressed her hand to
it once more, trying to keep the fabric in place. If the wound
re-opened, it could get worse, she knew.
As she drew close, the horse shied away, but calmly, Miaka began
crooning to it, lulling it into trusting her. "It's alright. See? I'm
not going to hurt you. Just please, I need your help. Will you help
me?"
The horse's response was to move away again, but Miaka continued
patiently trying to win the beast over. Finally, she managed to get the
reigns in hand, but her small moment of triumphant turned to one of
consternation. How was she going to mount the saddle with an injured
side? This presented a serious problem.
Just as she was trying to get a foot in the stirrup, a voice from
behind her froze her in her tracks her.
"I knew you'd come out, eventually, Maiden of Suzaku. I just had to
leave the horse there, and wait. You're so pathetically predictable."
The strange man from earlier appeared in front of her, grabbing the
reigns from her surprised hands, and shoved her back against the rough
bark of a nearby tree. Another shot of pain crept up her side and she
gasped, grabbing onto her ribs protectively.
Leaning over her, Miaka finally got a good look at the face of her
attacker. He would have been a handsome man, had his pretty blue eyes
not seemed so full of vicious intent. His golden-brown hair was tied
back from his face by a blue-colored leather strip, showing off his
triangular-shaped face. Dressed in a similar jacket as her own, and
wearing expensive boots, and a small gold-hoop earring in his left ear,
everything about this man screamed 'aristocrat' to her. The only thing
that ruined the effect was a small, ragged scar, which trailed from his
right cheek to the crack where his lips met, marring the perfection.
With that in place, he seemed more like a well-dressed pirate.
As if sensing her thoughts, the man stroked the scar with his right
index finger, tracing across its breadth, the movement as graceful as
if he'd done it thousands of times in practice.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said with airs about him. He
mock-bowed, confident that Miaka wasn't able to get away from him even
should she try again. She realized that this was probably the case,
since her side burned as if on fire. "My name is Shougo Asagi, and I am
a Seishi of Genbu, the God of the North."
Miaka felt her blood run like ice.
"Genbu's...Seishi?" she heard herself ask, unaware that it was spoken
in barely a whisper. The man snickered again, the sound grating to the
nerves.
"Yes, little Miko, I am Genbu's Seishi," he reaffirmed, reaching down
to pat a spot on his left thigh. "I'd show you my symbol as proof," he
offered with a smirk, "but right now might not be the best place for
that sort of thing. It is rather cold out here."
So fast that she barely saw him more, he grabbed a hold of her right
arm, and pulled her towards him roughly. Pressed up against his length,
Miaka felt the heat leach off of him onto her, helping to ease her
nearly frostbitten fingers. However, there was a 'feel' to him that
reeked of bad intent, and Miaka found herself wanting to gag, even as
he pressed her closer. She weakly struggled, tired and cold, but not
wanting to give up without a fight.
"Tamahome!" she cried out loudly, praying that he'd hear her.
"Tamahome - help me!" She pushed, her injured side making it hard for
her to breathe, but Asagi's grasp was firm.
"Now, now, little Miko," he chastised, "we can't have you making a
scene. It doesn't matter that there's no one around, and that I
thoroughly tromped your friends back there, but still..."
"Tamahome! Tasuki! Nuriko! Chichiri! Umph..." she shouted, pushing
away from the foulness of this man. "Someone - HELP ME!!!"
Asagi laughed, enjoying her struggles, maintaining a good grasp on her
despite Miaka's best efforts. He began hauling her towards the horse,
with the intent of throwing her over the saddle, belly first. She
kicked out, not caring that she hit the horse, hoping the animal would
step on the man's foot or jerk away because of her flailing. Anything
that she could do to make the situation harder on him gave her immense
gratification, even as every movement brought her closer and closer to
the edge of passing out from the pain.
Surprisingly, Asagi suddenly dropped her, and stepped away, his own
scream of pain ringing loudly in her ear. Miaka hurried under the
horse's belly, scurrying to the otherside, and took off, limping and
staggering as she went. It didn't matter where she went, as long as it
was away from Asagi and his disgusting hands. Huffing in exertion, she
moved as fast as she could, not looking back.
Soon though, she stumbled, and landed....into a pair of arms. A soft
voice murmured to her in her ear, breathing warm and sweet upon her
face. "Easy now, girl, I've got you. You're safe."
Gasping for breath, Miaka looked up into a very handsome - almost
beautiful - teenage boy's face. His large, deep brown eyes captured
hers and they held. His triangular face was wider than Asagi's had
been, almost giving it a feminine appeal. The hair was a chestnut
color, cropped short in the back, with bangs that hung in his eyes
slightly. His left ear was pierced, and a small, diamond stud sparkled
and caught her attention. Beneath her fingers, his dark, woolen cloak
hung loose, non-constricting to his frame, barely brushing his pants
across the calves, and touching upon the tops of his boots. Across his
back was strung a bow and a quiver of black-feathered arrows.
Miaka noted, as her gaze traveled up to his eyes once more, that the
boy had been carefully sizing her up in a similar manner, and she
blushed in embarrassment. She turned away, and when she did so, a wave
of nausea swam over her. She groaned and shut her eyes.
The boy spoke again, his gravely voice firmer than before, but just as
tender as earlier.
"You're going to be alright," he reassured, lifting her delicately and
helping her regain her feet. He kept his arms around her waist,
safeguarding, even after she had managed to stand on her own. "I took
care of your 'friend' over there," he indicated with a jerk of his chin
back over her shoulder, "and he shouldn't be bothering you again."
The last was said with a slightly amused tone, and Miaka chanced a
glance over her shoulder, curious. A few hundred yards away, she could
see Asagi struggling with something near a tall, barren elm. When he
moved to the side, she caught a glance of his hand, glistening with
blood, nailed into the bark by an arrow. The raven-colored feathers
were the only part visible, indicating that the shaft had sunk deep.
Miaka winced, imagining the agony that such a wound would cause.
Suddenly, the boy stiffened next to her, and his head jerked to the
left. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and he leaned an ear in that
direction, listening to something that Miaka couldn't hear. He clicked
his tongue in irritation, and then, as if making up his mind quickly,
he picked her up carefully, trying not to hurt her, and placed her
against a solid tree not far from where they stood. Placing her hand on
a nearby branch to help her support herself, he stepped away, glancing
back towards the left again quickly.
It was then that Miaka heard the voices calling out to her, searching
for their lost Miko.
"Miaka! Where are you?! MIAKA!"
It was Tasuki!
Miaka felt relief in her heart, and hope returned.
The boy turned back to her. "Look, I have to go now," he said,
shifting his bow on his back to a more comfortable position. "I'll take
care of Mr. Personality for you. Just try to get out of these woods by
nightfall, if you can." He turned away, towards where Asagi was, and
stopped short, swearing under his breath. Miaka quickly looked in the
same direction and her breath caught in her throat.
Asagi was nowhere to be seen, and the arrow lay, broken and bloodied,
nearby where he had been. He had escaped.
The boy started off in that direction to pursue, but Miaka stopped
him. "Why?" she called out. "Why do we need to be out of the forest by
dark?"
He turned back, his head jerking from the direction where Tasuki was
coming towards the place where Asagi seemed to be heading -according to
the glistening droplets of bloods in the snow - and sighed in
frustration. "Look, this place is just dangerous. There are all sorts
of animals here that you can't find in other countries. Just take my
word on it and be out of here, even if you have to push your horses to
do so."
He turned and ran off without another glance back.
"Wait! I don't even know your name!" she called out, but there was no
one to answer her. She sighed, and gasped in pain that such a movement
caused. She gripped her side again, and breathed shallow, hoping to
minimize the pain.
Again, Tasuki's voice, this time, joined by Chichiri's and Nuriko's,
could be heard getting closer. "Miaka, where are you?!?"
She took a deep breath, biting back on the pain, and shouted as loudly
as she could. "I'M HERE!"
Within minutes, Tasuki's bright, flaming hair came into view, followed
by Chichiri's staff, and Nuriko's relieved smile, and soon afterwards,
she was being carried back in the former bandit's arms to where the
others were gathered.
Mitsukake healed both Chiriko's and her wounds, and then she told them
everything she knew, including being saved by a mysterious boy, and his
warning about the woods. Deciding to heed good advise, the group packed
up everything they could find, collected what horses they had
retrieved, doubled-up in riding, and moved onward. By nightfall, they
had reached the edge of the forest, and below, they could see the
quaint, little town beneath Mount Black. Everyone breathed a collective
sigh of relief, and headed down into the small community, looking
forward to a night of much-needed rest.
That night, after Mitsukake had checked on her one last time and
everyone else went off to bed, Miaka sat alone, staring into the mirror
as she brushed her hair, and wondered who the mysterious boy with the
diamond earring really was, and if she'd ever get the chance to say
'thank-you' to him for saving her life.
"Well, that kind of confirms it, huh?" Ferio asked around a mouthful
of bread. "Genbu's Seishi are trying to kill off the Mikos."
"You're jumping to conclusions," Subaru murmured, sitting before the
small, weakly-lit fire and chewing on his own meager dinner. Earlier,
he had exchanged his typical white robes for more practical traveling
garb, and now he appeared to look much like any other peasant, dressed
in dark, patchy clothes, lined with some sort of animal's fur to ward
off the cold. "It was one attack, and he didn't seem to be trying to
kill her so much as catch her."
"Yea, but..." Ferio argued, only to be cut-off by Sohma this time.
"I clearly heard Asagi say that Ashura would reward him for bringing
the Suzaku Maiden to her. That sort of implies that they intended on
keeping her alive long enough to rendezvous with Genbu's Protector,
Ferio."
"I don't know," Ferio remained steadfast, "I don't trust Ashura
further than I can...well...you know what I mean. Anyway, I think she's
got something up her sleeve, and that can't spell anything but trouble
for us, not to mention any of the other Seishi."
Yasha remained silent, considering what he had heard, wondering if it
could be true.
When Sohma had relayed to them her report of everything that she had
seen, it had stunned him that Suzaku's Seishi could have been caught so
completely off-guard; he had expected better, considering what he knew
of them. At the very least, the magician, Chichiri, should have
detected Asagi's elemental magic upon his summoning. The fact that he
hadn't indicated someone else had possibly been present, and had used
their powers to help dampen the effect. Maybe it had been an illusion
created by the Sakurazukamori? He didn't know.
Of course, it _could_ have been this mysterious boy that Sohma spoke
so highly of. From one perspective, it seemed too uncanny that he had
just _happened_ to show up at the right time to save the Suzaku
Priestess.
Although, his garb, as Sohma had described, indicated that he had come
from a border area; the type of cloak he wore and the fact that he was
an archer was definitely an indication of one who lived in the Steppe
area of Sairou country.
But, why would he wander this far north?
It just wasn't possible that he was lost. Steppe people were the best
survivors of any peoples on the continent. They were known to be able
to tell almost the precise time of day even from deep within the
earth's caverns, and they were able to shoot their prey from hundreds
of yards away within a few inches of accuracy. The fact that they
tended to exist well in almost any climate was a tribute to their
toughness. Lurking in forests were as familiar to them as within the
deserts or out on the Savannah, and settling in such a locale afforded
them the opportunity to perfect these survival skills.
Because of their almost nomadic existence, the people of the Steppes
were also considered uncivilized, uncouth, and wild.
However, 'wild' did not equate to being either 'stupid' or
'directionally challenged', therefore, there had to be a reason why the
boy would be here, at this exact time and at this exact place.
"Yasha? You alright?" Ferio asked, waving a hand in front of the elder
man's face. Yasha blinked, and nodded out of his reverie. "I wanted to
know what you make of all this," the young Prince asked, curious.
Yasha considered his answer carefully.
"The archer boy must be a Seishi," he said finally, matter-of-factly.
Sohma nodded. "That's what I thought too," she confirmed. "It doesn't
make sense that a person from the Steppes would be here otherwise."
Subaru looked up then.
"How do you know he's from the Steppes?" he asked, putting his
insubstantial dinner aside for the moment.
Seeing an opportunity, Ferio snatched it up behind his fellow Seishi's
back and gobbled it down in one bite. Subaru hadn't noticed, or, if he
did, he made no issue of it, for which, Ferio was glad.
"His clothes," Sohma replied, as if it were the most obvious
conclusion. "And the way he shot that arrow. Too accurate _not _to be a
Steppe clansmen."
"So, even if we don't know why Asagi or Ashura wanted the Suzaku Miko,
at least we found another Byakko Seishi. That's still good, right?"
Ferio exclaimed happily, leaning back against an overturned log, and
stretching his feet out towards the small flames.
Yasha nodded again, saying nothing.
"It would be better if we'd found our Miko though," the young Prince
continued, staring into the fire, almost mesmerized by their
flickering.
No one could say anything to that. Everyone knew that having their
Miko present might simplify things immensely; for where the Miko was,
the Seishi were attracted to go, almost as if by some strange quirk of
Fate. Maybe if they found Byakko's Miko, they'd quickly be able to
gather the remaining Seishi.
"Subaru, Ferio," Yasha addressed them commandingly, as his position
dictated. "I want you two to find this boy who saved the Suzaku Miko,
and find out if he _is _one of us. If so, bring him back. If he's one
of Genbu's..." He stopped himself short of saying what he felt, but
everyone clearly understood the situation. Words weren't necessary to
convey the seriousness of their predicament. "Either way," he continued
on, "we may have to take steps to assure that he doesn't meet up with
Genbu's Warriors."
"I bet he _is_ one of us!" Ferio proclaimed, already on his feet and
heading for his horse. Subaru walked not far behind, his dark clothes
almost blending into the gloom that surrounded their small camp. "It's
just too uncanny. Luck must be on our side this time!"
"Luck has little to do with it, in my experience," Subaru muttered,
quickly resaddling his own mare.
"What do you mean?" Ferio asked inquisitively.
"Things just seem too coincidental, in my opinion, sometimes," Subaru
responded, shrugging, and getting a foot in his stirrup. He pulled his
thin frame up and over, saddling the horse with a practiced ease.
For not the first time, Sohma wondered where the strange Onmyoujitsu
had really come from. He spoke little about himself, including his
past, but one thing was certain - his hatred for the Genbu Seishi ran
deeper than it appeared on the surface. Each time they were mentioned,
his eyes took on a hard, determined glint, borderlining on murderous.
Curiously, she wondered about that as she watched the young
sorcerer-exorcist quietly argue about the pros and cons of believing in
chance versus predestined consequences with the young Prince of Sairou
Country.
When the two were finally out of earshot, she turned back towards
Yasha, and sat down across from him, chewing on her small traveling
rations, watching his face carefully. She could see him trying to
puzzle out the newest facts, comparing them to what he knew already,
trying to come up with a match or a new piece to add to the intricate
puzzle.
Finally, the silence became to much for even her.
"What do you think Ashura's up to?" she asked, quietly watching and
waiting for a response.
Yasha didn't blink an eye at the implication that his ex-lover was
scheming some sort of dastardly plan for them - he rarely did any more.
Long ago, Sohma knew, it bothered him to even hear Ashura's name
mentioned in casual conversation, but time and experience had hardened
him, and he no longer denied the truth.
Perhaps that was the greatest tragedy of it all, she mused.
"I'm not sure," he muttered, truly perplexed. "Nothing she does make
sense to what I knew about her. It's like she's a completely different
person now."
His frustration was obvious, even from this distance. It radiated
outwardly in a wave of displeasure and ire which combated Sohma's own
temper, dampening her spirits.
"We need to predict her next move, otherwise we'll end up two steps
behind," she cautioned. "You know how fast her mind works, how good she
is at playing this type of game. In truth, she's the one part of this
equation that worries me."
Yasha could only nod in agreement, his far-away eyes seeing memories
that only he would know. Sometimes, Sohma wished that she could be
privy to such thoughts...
"Are you scared?" she dared to ask, already knowing the answer hidden
deep within the isolation of Yasha's gaze.
He stood then, as graceful as a serpent unwinding itself, towering
over her, and threw his small cup of water back into the snow. Sohma
understood his silence probably even more than he, himself, did - she
had studied it for years, picking it apart, discovering its true
meaning. She rubbed her hands across her arms, shivering, not from the
small gust that had swept down from out of the mountains to the north,
but from the answer that Yasha had not dared to speak aloud.
"Use Subaru's talisman to get past the Seiryuu wards, and go into
their camp tonight. Find out what new things they may have discovered,"
he commanded her, striding over to the horses, and resaddling his own
stallion, packing away his things. "I'm going down into the town at the
base of the Mountain to spy on Suzaku's group. Meet me in the stables
at sundown, tomorrow night."
"What about the others?" she asked, quickly removing all traces of
their passing and dousing the fire.
"I'll use Subaru's bottled shikigami to deliver them the message of
the meeting," he said, mounting the saddle, and turning away without
another word.
"Good luck!" Sohma called out, but Yasha was already gone, his black
form merging with the darkness completely. She sighed, quickly finished
up her cover-up, and started out to the Seiryuu's encampment.
En route, she prayed to Byakko to protect her fellow Seishi, and for
the Tiger God to help guide the man who right now felt the fear of the
unknown looming on his horizon, so that, when the time came, he
wouldn't falter, as he was deathly afraid he might.
That done, she eagerly looked forward to the next challenge - to find
out if Subaru's talisman would really work against the Seiryuu Seishi,
and Miboshi's wards. After all, anything she could do to anger and
irritate the little monk would bring her immense pleasure.
She owed him for his betrayal anyway...
Asagi stumbled through the door of the Widow's Inn, clutching his
hastily bandaged hand to him, and attempting to hide the wounded limb
within the folds of his jacket. The local authorities, after all,
tended to arrest first, and ask questions later, and he had already
wasted enough time playing cat and mouse against the mysterious archer
who dodged his steps at every turn for the last four hours. He was late
for the meeting.
Mistress Ashura would not be pleased.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, he reached her room within seconds.
The sweat glistened off of his forehead, streaming down his face, but
he paid it no heed, knocking lightly upon the old wood without further
hesitation. With a creak, the door opened, and standing, haloed by the
flickering, dim candlelight inside the room, was the Sakurazukamori. He
smiled in a pleasant, sardonic way.
"Ah, so you've finally decided to grace us with your presence," he
murmured, his sensual voice laced with a mocking quality that had
become commonplace whenever he spoke to the Master of Water. Shougo
wanted to respond scathingly towards the smug man, but before he could,
Seishirou stepped to the side, indicating that he should enter the
current demesne of the Genbu Seishi.
As he did so, Asagi felt the change in the atmosphere immediately. The
air grew stifling to breathe, the stench of old, dried blood wafted
towards him, and the room's temperature was oppressively warm.
Carefully, he stood near the exit, searching the shadows for movement,
ever aware that the lethal assassin stood at his back.
On the right, in the darkest corner, a cowled figure sat in a chair,
wisps of pale, white hair tumbling out from the top of the mantle. A
hint of pure, white skin, seeming to eerily glow, peeked out from the
sable-colored cloth, but no eyes were visible. Despite this, Asagi felt
the cold gaze of his fellow Seishi, Nataku, upon him, almost burning
him with its intensity. No doubt, the 'Eater of Souls' had smelled his
injury immediately upon his entering.
"Report," came a soft voice from near the window. Stepping into the
moonlight which streamed through the glass, Ashura's lithe figure
emerged, breathtaking, as always, in its loveliness.
For an instant, Asagi became painfully aware of his reaction to the
beautiful, dark-haired Seishi, and he was forced to shift his stance,
trying to appear inconspicuous as he did so. Even then, he knew that
Seishirou had guessed his thoughts by the tell-tale snicker from
behind. Asagi mentally winced, throwing a silent curse at his
nemesis-companion, while trying to remain neutral-faced.
"I followed the Suzaku group into the Forest of Midgar, and engaged
the Seishi as you instructed," he began, his voice faltering at first,
but gaining confidence as he continued. "Dividing their Miko from them
proved easier than expected, as did tracking and catching her. I had
her within my grasp..."
"And yet, I do not see her with you now," Ashura remarked, her voice
strangely dispassionate, hollow and empty. Asagi swallowed past the
lump that began forming in this throat, and stuttered a response.
"Ye...yes, well, I had her and...and was preparing to return with the
Maiden when a stranger appeared unexpectedly and attacked me." Asagi
produced the shredded mess that was his left palm to them all, shaking
it as he spoke. "The little bastard shot an arrow through my hand from
more than two hundred paces away, and I dropped the Suzaku Priestess
accidentally. I decided to abandon the mission, at that point - it was
too risky."
He saw the thin, graceful form shift slightly, as Ashura turned her
profile away from him. "And none followed your escape?"
Asagi debated lying to her, but then thought better of it. The woman
had a way of seeing through untruths. "Well, the kid with the bow
trailed me at first. He was extraordinarily fast, and but I eventually
dodged him on the outskirts of town. There's no way he could have
followed me to the Inn."
Ashura faced him once more, and seemed to consider his words
carefully, weighing the truth of them. Her golden eyes captured his,
and in the hushed room, it suddenly felt as though only the two of them
existed in the whole wide world. It was like being on one of those
expensive narcotics that he had tried as a young man; it created a
strange sort-of focused tunnel-vision , where he felt himself lost
within Ashura's gaze, acutely aware of every breath she took, and of
the rhythm of her beating heart.
He wanted more, wanted to drown within her and with her. In that
second, he would have slit his own throat just to please her.
Then, the spell was broken, and he was released.
Gasping for breath, he bent over at the waist, clutching his nauseated
stomach and blinking away the fuzziness from about his senses.
"Tell me more about this boy with the bow," Ashura instructed him,
coaxing, and yet deceptively dictating at the same time. Asagi knew
that he had no choice but to obey if he wanted to get out of this
alive. His leader's displeasure at his actions was obvious even from
this distance, and, as he relayed what he knew, he silently prayed to
Genbu to protect him.
When he was finished, he remained quiet, clenching the fingers of his
good hand around the wrist of his damaged one nervously, hoping that he
had somehow appeased Ashura's anger.
"Sounds like a person from the Steppes," Seishirou commented, breaking
the silence. Asagi looked back to see that the man had taken up a
position near the door, leaning against it with arms folded. His one
cursed eye gleamed a milky white in the dim light, reflecting his Genbu
Seishi symbol - ORU, "to bend" - dully within it.
"What would he be doing this far north?" Asagi inquired, bewildered.
"I've never met one, but the Steppe people supposedly never leave their
lands."
"No, they typically don't," Seishirou agreed, his eyes narrowing in
consideration. He said nothing more, but it was clearly obvious that he
was weighing this new information carefully. Asagi had no doubt that,
somehow, the man would find a way to use it to win favor with their
leader.
Movement from the corner of his eye brought his attention back towards
the figure standing alone by the window. Ashura ran a delicate
fingertip across the pane, looking out into the distance as she did so.
"You let the Maiden get away," she stated simply, her voice carrying no
malice, anger or threat.
The lack of emotion was almost as frightening as Ashura's display of
displeasure, and Asagi felt his stomach tighten into knots. "I...I
didn't have a choice. I was wounded, and against six other Seishi..."
"Seven," she hissed, suddenly vicious, cutting him off.
Asagi blinked in confusion. What? Seven Seishi? He was sure there had
only been the six belonging to Suzaku, so why then did Ashura insist on
there having been one more? Unless...
"You think the boy was a Seishi?" he asked, shocked at the revelation.
"But...why? He didn't seem all that powerful to me."
"Imbecile! Didn't the fact that he could even keep pace with you alert
you to the fact that he wasn't a normal human?" Ashura asked, clearly
annoyed. "Only one blessed by the Gods could have accomplished such a
feat." She began pacing back and forth, chewing on her bottom lip and
spouting off her thoughts at random. "It all makes perfect sense now.
Why else would one of the clansmen abandon their Holy Land to come to
Hokkan's northern-most border, specifically at this exact time? No, his
presence here is no accident."
Asagi mulled over her words, letting the reality sink in. Another
Seishi - but who's?
"You suspect who this boy may really belong to, don't you, Mistress
Ashura?" Nataku dared to ask, his strangely effeminate voice carrying a
deep understanding to its tone. Asagi wondered if such familiar
knowledge came from the man's constant presence around their leader, or
if it came from something more? Had Nataku shared a 'kiss' with Genbu's
Protector?
After several long seconds, Ashura had still not responded to the
question, and Seishirou took the opportunity to speak his peace. "Since
we know who all of the Seiryuu and Suzaku Seishi are, the boy can only
be a Genbu Seishi...or..."
He left the thought hanging over all of their heads, and the
implication wasn't lost on any of them. If he was truly a Seishi, the
boy might very well belong to Byakko. It would make sense, since he
appeared to derive from the Steppe region within Byakko's land - in
Sairou Country.
"With the emergence of three of the four groups already," Seishirou
continued, "the possibility exists that the Byakko Miko will also
arrive in this world. If so, her Seishi will not be far behind. The boy
could be the first to have heard the calling, if he is one of the Tiger
God's servants." He shifted slightly within the shadows. "Eventually,
they will all gather here, my Lady," he stated, apparently unaffected
by such an idea. "The presence of so many of the Chosen in one area
will call to them, as it did even to us."
"Four Mikos..." Asagi breathed, clearly astonished. Never had he heard
of such a thing happening, and he had been actually very well-versed in
the ancient prophecies thanks to his noble upbringing. If it was true,
and all four Mikos had appeared in their world at the same time, it
could only be a bad omen.
Ashura remained silent, mentally cursing herself for not having
finished off that fool ex-lover of hers long ago. Sentimentality had
always been one of her weakest points, she knew.
As Seishirou had rightly predicted, there was a certain 'pull' towards
others of their kind, and having so many of the Chosen Ones
concentrated in a single area so tightly - between themselves, the
Suzaku and the Seiryuu groups - the probability of him arriving here
now increased ten-fold. Eventually, she'd run into him.
It was only a matter of time now.
Certainly, the emergence of the Tiger God's Seishi came as no surprise
to her - she had known long ago that Yasha was one of them. He bore
their symbol - BAN, 'to guard', upon his forehead, just as she bore the
symbol of Genbu upon hers - MEIYO, meaning 'glory'.
In the beginning, the two of them had tried to deny their Fates,
blissfully throwing caution and common sense to the wind, but Ashura
had known deep within, in some small section of her heart, that it
would never work. The 'voice' she had heard so often in her mind while
growing up had confirmed this suspicion, showing her images of what
would eventually be. It had explained to her that she and Yasha would
have to sit on opposite sides of the battlefield when, and if, a war
ever came between their two peoples. They would be forced to fight each
other, and a very real probability existed that one might kill the
other. There would be no other choice.
When she had confronted him later about the likelihood that such a
thing might come to pass, Yasha had not answered her, and it was in
that moment that Ashura knew the truth. That Yasha would chose his duty
and honor to a faceless God, whom he had never met, over his very real
and tangible feelings for her had hurt more than anything ever had -
including the murder of her father, when she was eleven years old, by
the current Emperor of Hokkan...her father's old friend, and the man
she had once called 'uncle'...
She had run away not long after their discussion, placing a great
distance between herself and the man she had built every dream around,
filled with a great, aching sorrow and bitterness about the unfairness
of life, and the cruelty of love.
Now, all these years later, events had transpired to bring him here,
at this specific time and place, so that he might begin fulfilling the
promise to which he had been born. Perhaps it was time for her to do
likewise.
She smirked wryly at the irony of the situation.
It seemed she was destined to kill Yasha after all. The voice had
spoken true, as it always had. There had never been a reason to doubt
Fate, it seemed.
So be it.
"Seishirou," Ashura addressed the illusionist-sorcerer in the same
cold tone she had used earlier, "you will bring me this boy from the
Steppes, so that I may see with my own eyes whom he truly belongs to."
Her command was said with a finality to it that Asagi internally
shuddered over, and he speculated as to what decision it was that she
had finally come to after the many minutes of her silent musing. Again,
an awful sense of foreboding swept over him, as it had earlier, and he
suddenly felt very weary from playing this guessing game for too long.
The Sakurazukamori moved away from the wall, bowed deeply in
acquiescence to his mistress, and seemed to melt back into the shadows
of the room, disappearing entirely without a word. For not the first
time, Asagi wondered if the man had really been here at all, or had he
simply been a conjured illusion? He doubted even Seishirou would pull
such a stunt with Ashura in charge, but one never really knew with that
butcher.
"Shougo," she addressed him then, turning back to glance out at the
snow which had begun to fall once more beyond the sealed layer of
glass, "get your hand looked at by the local doctor. It appears to be
festering already."
Asagi looked down at his hand once, seeing that she spoke the truth -
the blood had begun to cake within its wrappings, which were drenched a
dark, sanguious color. If he didn't treat it soon, it would most
definitely bring on the fever.
He bowed as well, preparing to take his leave, thankful that he was
getting off so lightly for having botched his mission. Ashura was
granting him a reprieve for bringing him news of this new possible
Seishi. Perhaps his luck was holding true after all. He began backing
towards the door, but stopped when she spoke again.
"I would think that you should pray to Genbu, Asagi, for your good
fortune today," she cautioned in a deadly whisper that hinted at so
much innuendo. "The next time, you may just lose the appendage
altogether, if not your life."
Shougo took the hint, and continued backing away, bowing low at the
waist and ignoring the pain in his numbing hand. When he touched the
handle of the door, he unlocked it and pulled it open. Trying to keep
some semblance of dignity, as his status required, he managed not to
fumble too much with the door before shutting it behind him.
"Has the Shura Sword reacted yet?" Nataku asked, carefully readjusting
his severian-colored robes about his body, and shifting slightly in his
seat.
Ashura did not turn from her vigilance at the window, as she spoke,
watching as Asagi's form moved away from the Inn, out among the quiet,
sleepy streets towards the end of the town, where the doctor was known
to reside. "No, my friend, not yet," she replied, her voice suddenly
conveying her deep exhaustion. Staying awake for most of the last two
days had begun to wear upon her frayed nerves. Perhaps tonight she
would be able to sleep, and not dream...
"What will you do," the pale, reanimated corpse wondered aloud, slight
amusement in his tone, "should the boy not be one of Genbu's?"
There was an odd hope in the tone that Ashura recognized. Stepping
over to him, she chuckled, placing a familiar hand on the man's
shoulder. "I shall give him to you, then," she promised, and watched as
a small, chalk-colored fang poke out from between Nataku's smiling
lips.
"You are most gracious, my Lady," he intoned, bowing his head
slightly.
Suddenly, as if all the bluster had rushed away, Ashura lost her brief
spurt of enthusiasm, and sighed loudly. "I think I'll get something to
eat before turning in for the night," she commented, moving towards the
doorway, intending on going down to the tavern's dining area below.
She was slightly surprised to hear Nataku's robes shift, indicating
that he had stood up. She turned back, noting the beautiful, pale
features and mesmerizing lavender-colored eyes of her associate, and
wondered what he was up to.
"Perhaps I will too," he commented with a sideways smirk, silently
asking her permission. Ashura nodded once, then opened the door and
walked out, heading for the lights and sounds coming from below,
thankful to be around normal, living people for just a little while.
TO BE CONTINUED...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes:
F.Y.I., the Four Gods of The Sky and Earth are:
Suzaku - The Southern Red Peacock [Phoenix] (protector of Konan
Country)
Seiryuu - The Eastern Blue Dragon (protector of Kutou Country)
Byakko - The Western White Tiger (protector of Sairou Country)
Genbu - The Northern Mysterious Warrior [Snake/Turtle combined]
(protector of Hokkan Country)
If you are unfamiliar with the term "shikigami" might I suggest that
you look it up in the "X" manga (translated into English by Viz Comics
as "X/1999", for those who can't read Japanese) or the "Tokyo Babylon"
manga (untranslated commerically, but translations in English are
available on the web). There is a much better explanation in those
stories of what this is than one I could give you right now.
Hopefully, you caught the reference to Final Fantasy VII. In case you
missed it, it had to do with the Forest being called 'Midgar'. Because
I enjoyed the game so much, I thought I'd do a few cameos from the
characters there as well. Keep reading the different parts to this
story as they come, and maybe you can spot them.
**For the sake of creativity, I have altered the original works and
characters of the original authors and combined them into this work of
fanfiction. To them, and to all who read this and enjoy it, this story
is dedicated to you.**
"Fushigi Yuugi" is the property of Yuu Watase, Shougakukan, and Da Ran
Publishing, 1993.
"Tokyo Babylon", "X", "RG Veda", "Miyuki-chan In Wonderland", "Magic
Knights Rayearth", "Wish" and "Clover" are the copyright of CLAMP, and
Kodakowa Publishing, 1992-1997.
"Sohryuden: Legend of the Dragon Kings" is the copyright of its author
(whoever that is, I'm not sure), and it's publisher (ditto).
"Final Fantasy VII" is the copyright of Square Co, Ltd., 1997, and Sony
Computer Entertainment Inc.
All other characters and events of this story are the property of
Jennifer L. Mondazzi, copyright 1997. **Please do not copy or
replicate this work without written permission from this fanfiction
author.**