InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodlust: Purity ❯ When The Bough Breaks ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3

Tapped

 

 

Sesshomaru found Kagome alone in the garden where they had held the rite; she was watching the fountain, and her eyes were smoky with feelings.

"Did you give him the sword? And his...answers?"

"Yes. And no."

He came up beside her and settled his hands around her waist, pulled her close. It was a strain on him, having so many visitors at one time. Some he did not mind - Akira, Kinawai - but the rest! It made him long for the old days, for the days of violence when they had all been too afraid to come near. To touch his mate, to be near her, was soothing.

"Something is troubling Kouga, mate. More than I thought, earlier, when I asked your permission to answer his questions. More than I thought possible. He is being consumed, Kagome. By that Wolf, I think."

He paused for a moment to look at her, sort out her scent and its meaning.

"Kouga?"

He was proud of her voice, the single word well controlled, but he wondered, hearing it, if she understood his meaning fully.

“I have never seen what I saw on our son's face in anyone but that Wolf. Kouga...our Kouga was totally lost in the awareness of someone else, peering out at us....familiar. He told me he has been dreaming for as long as he can remember."

Sesshomaru felt Kagome's shoulders tremble suddenly under his hands.

"Dreaming? Dreaming what?"

"That Wolf; his life. Tonight he told me...enough that I believe him."

The thought momentarily flashed through his mind, the shape of his son's lips forming his brother's name, the thought of his son possessing the knowledge of his greatest shame. Reflexively, the fingers of his restored hand twitched and tightened.

"I would not have believed him, but I have seen that look before, that unbending arrogance. In that wolf's eyes…even Inuyasha looked at me with fear, behind his bravado, and not...that."

Kagome looked up at Sesshomaru with a shadow of sorrow on her face.

“Eldest told me once that the bonds of death are beyond all mortal understanding. Even we youkai are mortal; even the gods can die. Kouga died for our son, and we gave him that name to honor the dead. But then -”

Sesshomaru's fingers clutched momentarily at the fabric of her robe and tore it, scratched her skin.

“He could have the wolf's soul…in which case I hope the blood of our house will strengthen him.”

A tiny ember of wrath flickered in Kagome's eyes then, small but strong.

“Do not forget that he gave his life for me and for our son. That is a worthy soul, Sesshomaru.”

He knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing, but wrong did not mean not true.

“Do not be angry, mate. I understand your devotion to the honor of a dead friend. That does not mean he wasn't a fool, arrogant instead of fearful. He had the wild tendencies of the old days - "

He saw her mouth begin to open, and silence her oncoming words with a steady gaze.

" -and he had compassion, and he loved you. I know these things too but the truth is that he was reckless, and I do not like the thought of our son - ”

Kagome smiled in sadness.

“I know. But you can't forget the rest.”

“I gave our son his name so I would not forget. Now…now it seems that he cannot stop remembering. I do not know what secret pains he is hiding, but there is uneasiness in me that came with what lingered in his eyes.”

Startled out of her own memories, she stared at her mate and her face flickered between worry and grief.

"Whatever it is, Sess-chan, it does not belong to him. If he has visions, if he has dreams...they are moments cut out of time; they do not really belong to him."

"Tell me, Kagome - does he know that? Does he?"

She shook her head silently, not answering his question but denying it totally, denying its existence, its possibilities.

"I will go to Eldest tomorrow, at moonrise. She will help us."

His eyes were dark; he remembered what he had said to Kouga and felt the truth of the words wash over him again.

I don't trust her.

"Maybe, she will help us. If she can."

~-~-~-~-~

In the silence of the sleeping fortress, Kouga, unlike his mother, could not deny his father's question...but it was his sister who asked it of him.

Kouga's only youkai sibling was eight years younger, born with no danger in a quiet room six years after the peace had settled over the land. She was fourteen now, and there was a wildness in her eyes that made it seem like she was the one who should have been born in battle and in blood. She had inherited their mother's miko strength; she had taken up her first sword at three over their mother's objection. Their father had taught her to wield twin swords, and she was swift and lethal in the art of their use. Now, listening to Kouga's vision, his dreams, there was fiery concern in her face, but no skepticism.

“I don't know what to believe, onii-san. I trust you, that you are telling what you know, but I don't understand. It is really a memory?”

"I don't know! That's why...its so confusing, Kystra! And I can't talk to father about it, or mother...I keep wondering, do I have some kind of obligation to the past? If the Kouga who died - if his soul is mine, does that mean I'm - him? Or that he's me? Or -"

They had been sitting on cushions in the corner of her sitting-room; now she stood and crossed to the other side of the room, where a low altar, like the one he had just spent the night in front of, sat unassuming against the wall. It was almost bare; branches of the sacred tree, a mirror, a knife, a shallow stone bowl, a candle. The bowl shimmered, full of clear liquid. Carefully, so it would not spill, she lifted one of the sakaki branches and dipped it in the oil. The leaves emerged shining, the long stem glistening. She allowed the excess to drip back into the bowl and lay the long branch carefully across her mirror.

“This is strange oil, Kouga, endowed with strange properties. Mother gave it to me last winter, after she came back from Eldest...you remember, Kouga, the week she was gone?”

He nodded; how could he forget? Without her around, father was impossible.

“Anyway, on a mirror it has the power to open visions, to open the mind's eye into the past, or the future, or even into some other place.”

The surface of the mirror was already darkening as she spoke, absorbing the oil from the branch, and the greenness of it, somehow, the life of it. Kouga raised one eyebrow, impressed somehow by the simplicity of this power. Kystra motioned her brother forward, until he was standing beside her, looking down at the altar, the mirror.

“I think maybe this could help you, brother...at least help you decide if is a memory, or just...a dream. Look in the mirror, Kouga. What do you see?”

His eyes flashed down and then up to her face.

“I see darkness, and a dead branch of the sacred tree. I can't see anything in your miko-mirror, Kystra. Only females ever have that power; even among humans, that is true.”

“Humans have priests - like mother's friend, Miroku-san.”

There was a bit of a growl in her voice, a bit of a challenge.

“Even so - I'm not human.”

“I don't think *anything* is impossible. You carry our mother's blood, the same as I do, and it is her blood that gave me my miko. If there was no power in you, you wouldn't see darkness in the mirror, you would see the ceiling reflected in it. Didn't anyone tell you that during your Awakening, the light in you was violet? They were all whispering about it afterwards - dangerous, they called you.”

He smiled at that, even though he didn't understand how it was possible. If they thought he was dangerous, all those lords and their females...that was a good thing, someday a very good thing.

“Well - if - what should I do, Kystra?”

His sister grinned at him, the wide, feral grin of her best days at sword-practice. Faster than he could blink, her hand flashed out and he hissed in pain; a shallow cut was open on his arm, and he saw blood on his the knife in his sister's hand, blood flowing down the blade to drip onto the oiled glass. She lay the knife back down and watched the mirror's color begin to flicker with satisfaction on her face.

“It is blood that is power, Kouga, so you must give your blood to the mirror.”

The oil had parted to allow his blood and the change of color from darkness to brilliant, gold-rimmed violet was complete. Kouga's eyes widened with more than a little shock

“Kystra….what do I do?”

She spoke as softly as he had, barely more than a whisper.

“Watch the reflection, the light. Make it show you what you want to see; focus on it.”

“Ahh - it - is it…supposed to hurt…this much?”

Sweat was beading on his forehead, and he felt a compulsion now to look into the mirror; he could not look away. The colors were hypnotizing, and there were flares in them now, brightening suddenly and then fading away. Startled by the intense response, Kystra turned to look at him, and fear broke the satisfaction in her eyes. The pupils were dark, expanding red; there was gold there, and violet, but the red was dominant and there was tension in the lines of his jaw, a twitch at the corner of his eyes.

“Kouga! Stop, Kouga!”

The red won in his eyes, and suddenly and totally blocked out all the other colors. There was a pulse in the air around him, and she knew it for what it was - the Change, the submission. She knew, too, that he was too young, far too young...he had barely Awakened.

“Kouga!”

In a panic, frantic, terrified, Kystra reached for the knife and slit her palm, flooded her brother's blood from the mirror with her own. The mirror began to shiver, quivering in its place, and Kystra's eyes turned from her brother's to the mirror, watching the battle of power. She felt on a tug on herself, and sighed as Kouga began to relax away from the terrible edge; the unfocused power of the mirror was falling back into itself, back to calm miko-violet.

Slowly, slowly, Kouga stepped backwards and then pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbed hard. He felt weak, shaky; he had seen a vision, alright, but he could not understand it, didn't know what it had to do with him or his...condition. He took a deep breath and looked across at his sister to thank her.

“Kystra - Kystra, I -”

A bright, black bolt leapt out of the glass and the sacred branch was lit with black fire, fire that burned hotter than normal fire, fire that, though so small, he could feel from five steps away. His eyes moved from the branch to his sister, her eyes wide now, surprise obvious on her face.

“Kystra, is it supposed to do that? I don't think its - Kystra?”

She shook her head twice, and then tried to take a step back. He *saw* it, saw the strain of her legs trying to left her feet from the floor, saw the twitch of her knees, the sudden spasm in the rest of her body when she realized that she could not move. In that moment, he became aware that he, too, was stuck in place, as if his feet were chained to the floor.

Sparks of black and sickly yellow power were rising in waves from the mirror and the flaming branch; when they reaching the stone floor they disappeared, but where they touched his flesh power breached his skin with a cackle of electric energy. A lightening bolt of agony breached his eyes, forced them shut, and he screamed. He heard his sister's anguish beside him, higher pitched, louder, and knew the same thing was happening to her, but he could not spare a thought for her condition, could not breathe or move or twitch except in response to the pain. Mama, he thought. *Mama.* The word fled his lungs in a rush of air; the fortress rang with it, shook with it. Everything stopped, from the lowest basement to the highest balcony; everyone heard.

Kagome heard, and felt suddenly a presence of danger so threatening she could not believe she had missed it. She ran through the hallways with a speed she had only achieved once before; Shippou had lived because of that speed. There was a rush of silence in the energy laden air, and then the door crashed open and she was in Kystra's room. She took over the entire room in a moment, her presence entering in everywhere, probing into every crevice, every corner, dissipating every shadow.

Her eyes took in the mirror, rising from its place on tendrils of power - her children, twisted in agony, screaming. Her eyes cast around the room, found Kystra's bow in the corner next to an empty quiver; she leapt for the bow and took a deep breath, drew the power out, shaped it. It was draining to do this, but the power moved eagerly, following her intentions for the first time. She let the arrow go, a seamless length of power aimed at the glare of yellow power, the black fire, the mirror. Instantly, it shattered into pieces. The explosion of her own power washed away any hint of anything else. She saw the bits of the mirror go flying through the air in slow motion; the screams of her children were a moment longer in fading, and then they fell in twin heaps on the floor. Cautiously, she lowered the bow; her eyes were wild with the sudden drain but she stood ready to do it again if she had to. When she was convinced that the fire had gone out, that the power had faded completely, she dropped the bow and ran to her son.

He was already weakened by the strain of his Awakening; she didn't know what else had almost awakened in this room, but his eyes were still red with the strain.

“Kouga? Kouga, can you hear me?”

“Moth- mother -”

His face was returning to normal, the color fading from his eyes, and Kagome helped him to sit up. Her eyes scanned him quickly, saw that he was mostly unhurt, and then she went to Kystra and lifted her up, questioned her wellbeing in quiet tones.

“Kystra? Kystra, are you alright?”

She was silent; Kouga could see her eyes, open wide as if staring, but there was no movement in them; only her mouth moved, shaping silent words. He looked away and a single shard of the broken mirror caught his eye. It was glimmering bloodily on the floor, oozing oil, and he stared hard at it, feeling sparkles of pain in his head and in the many tiny wounds were the power had touched him.

“Can you stand up, Kouga? Can you walk?”

It was his father's voice, and he looked up, startled.

“I - think so.”

He took his father's hand, hoisted himself up and took a deep breath. His eyes strayed across to his sister, being lifted by their mother.

“Is - is she - “

“I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with her.

Sesshomaru led him with a steadying hand on his arm, out of his sister's rooms and down the hall towards his own chambers.

“Sit here; rest. I will be back when I have seen to your sister.”

Kouga forsook the chair, the bed, to slide down the wall and put his head between his knees.

If something happens to her - if she - if she dies, it is my fault. She interfered for my sake, I should never have agreed, never!

Thick and sudden came the scent of his mother's blood, and power.

 

~-~-~-~-~

Kagome held hot, miko light in her hands and it was still warm where it touched her daughter's body. She had lain in silence for a few moments, and then she had twisted, convulsed, obeying disorderly nerves. Kagome had been taught once, about such things; it looked like a seizure, but she knew there was nothing wrong with Kystra - or rather, that there had been nothing wrong with her. For nearly a minute, the power burned; she heard Sesshomaru enter the room behind her and stand quietly, waiting. Under the calming, healing influence, Kystra grew calmer, and Sesshomaru reached down quickly to steady her; she was swaying almost as badly as Kouga had been.

“Kagome. What happened?”

“I don`t know. Did Kouga say anything? Kystra is - she will not be able. I don`t think we should try to wake her, not yet anyway.”

He shook his head, almost angry, full of discontent that wanted to tear at his questions, find answers in the pieces.

“He said nothing. I did not ask; he is not himself either, although...”

He did not speak for a few moments, watching Kystra. Kagome saw worry flicker across his forehead in tense lines.

“What did you do, mate?”
She closed her eyes, and he felt her shudder, felt the long waves of movement come up from her bones.

“I broke a mirror, Kystra's mirror.“

The shudder continued, moved into Sesshomaru. Mirrors were pain, dangerous pain. He had

been thinking, just that afternoon - if something were happening again...

“I am going to talk to Kouga, then. He should be sleeping, after his Awakening, but we cannot afford the time.”

Quickly, he strode out of the room - quickly, so he would feel more purposeful, as if he were doing something. He was helpless in the face of his daughter's pain; he could hear whispers beginning around him, in the rooms and hallways, pressing on his ears. The guests who had stayed could smell blood in the air, had heard the screams; he would have questions to answer, a hundred of them, and he did not even have the answers for himself yet.

 

*I should be thankful that the rest have already left. The ones who stayed, I can trust.*

 

Kouga was sitting silently against the wall; his breathing was deep, but irregular, not sleep-breathing.

“Kouga.”

Slowly, too slowly for his liking, his son raised his eyes. It was more than fatigue dragging down his motions; there was unwillingness, the unwillingness of pain.

“Tell me what happened to you, and to your sister. Your mother said she shattered a mirror.”

Kouga nodded, again, too slowly.

“Yes. Kystra's mirror. She dipped a branch of the sacred tree in oil, and put it on the mirror, and then...my blood. She put my blood on the mirror, and told me to look into it.”

There was no emotion, no passion to punctuate his words. His lips moved slowly, steel-clad, as reluctant to reveal this misery as if it were poison passing his lips. His jaw tightened and showed a stiff line from chin to ear, dimming his continued words.

“There was - I saw - and then there was this light, power...it burned me.”

His eyes flashed down to his arms, where the deep puncture-burns had not yet even begun to heal.

“And Kystra, she used her power, her blood - to get rid of mine, I think. And then - that - that - the power - and I saw -

He fell silent, and stared up at his father, but the person in front of him was no longer his father; it was Sesshomaru-sama, the Inu-no-Taisho, and this person who was usually his father was an icy, intimidating figure.

“Please, father. I cannot live with visions like this, with these - dreams.“

A shudder, a momentary convulsion, wracked his body.

“Either the memories or I have to go, I know it, I can feel it. I cannot be two people; I cannot follow this…other Kouga.”

Sesshomaru continued to stand silently for a long minute; his eyes bored down into his son like bright amber coals.

“I will send Rin to see you, when I can find her. Stay here. I will not be sleeping tonight; I don't think your mother will be, either.”

 

When he was gone Kouga closed his eyes, letting hot tears burn like fire behind his eyelids and streak down onto his face.

His father would not have approved, but his father did not know the secret he carried in himself. When he spoke his lips said `mother' but his heart was dismayed by memory. There was a pulse, a pressure of *other* inside him, trying to force his words, his actions. What would happen if, even once, he called her by name?

She had taken his pieces of the shikon no tama- so small, those shards! - with only the threat of her power, shining in the eyes of this other youkai with his name, shining brighter than the sun!...his thoughts stopped, confused. He had never had a piece of that gem. It was strung around his mother's neck; it had been whole before his birth, he knew that!

Somewhere in his head a whisper, a voice, said that that was a lie, had to be a lie. He could not *feel* which was the truth, could not find it; uneasily, only half-awake now, he passed into other realms of thought. His sister's face flashed before his eyes as it had been when she lay in his mother's arms. He saw her empty eyes, the frozen scream on her face, and his hands tightened. Blood slipped down his fingers to the floor.