InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodlust: Purity ❯ Unchained Dragon ( Chapter 17 )

 

Akira will want to know the fate of his sons and daughters

 

Sesshomaru approached another silent house with Kagome by his side, waiting for her to tell him what he needed to hear. This place had obviously been the dwelling of a talented silk weaver. Bolts of untouched damask and fulled silk hung rolled down the walls and in great shimmering piles. The walls were painted flat and brilliant white, to show off the bright color of the silks, but in the ghastly silence, among the unlighted lamps, everything was dim and shadowed.

Despite the dimness, Kagome could see with a clarity that turned her stomach what it was they had been looking for. She extended one finger, pointing. A place on the austere white walls was darkened to the second sight of her miko power.

“There. A living youkai was destroyed there. The aura of the purification lingers in the shape upon the wall.”

Sesshomaru approached the spot she pointed at. His eyes could not see the aura that was so bright to Kagome's eyes, but his nose could tell him all he needed to know.

The scent of death was so much stronger near the imprinted wall that he had to hold his sleeve over his nose to keep the smell of f his tongue. With the other hand, he touched the wall where the scent was sharpest, and then rubbed his fingers together. They slid against each other as though they had been oiled.

“We must go to the center of this village. That is the headman's house, Akira's families house.”

Kagome was away from him like a shot and standing in that darkest doorway, looking down the road at him.

“I would suspect this house, Sesshomaru. This house is smoking with death.”

Her eyes were focused on it, fixed. Like a plume of smoke, the bright shine of pure death broke the air open. There was a swarming feeling on her skin, as though whatever power lingered there resonated with her own miko, and then rejected it. Almost as soon as it touched her, it faded away. A scent like clean water and fresh flowers radiated from her and through the whole village, and then it was gone and death returned.

Kagome's eyes opened wide for a single, startling revelation.

 

I have felt this power before! This is the power…the black hand of the vision, but how? A miko, still pure, yet all darkness. How!

 

Sesshomaru looked at her, and felt only distance. A surge of brightness had converged with Kagome and then left her in stillness, but now she was far from him and tangled. This was the inner awareness speaking to him, even while he stood so close he could have taken five steps and held her.

 

This is the strangest feeling. None of the rumors spoke of anything like this . The menace of a miko…none of them mentioned that it had gone this far! A war is being fought on my own lands, and I knew nothing of it!

 

He bared his teeth at no one.

I have been stuck in that fortress of stone for too long. The land is beginning to forget the legend of the Inu no Taisho. It is time to imprint it on them once again.

 

“Kagome. Come.”

He whisked by her in the door way. Her fingers around his wrist gave him pause for only a moment.
”That house is full of death, Sesshomaru.”

He let her go, and turned to face the darkness inside.

“Stay here. You do not need to see this.”

Sesshomaru was gone from her, moving across the threshold with blank eyes and a blanketed expression.

More silent than the rest of them, the interior of this house was black with demon blood, not just a lack of light. Here, someone had put up a fight, but it had not mattered. The black shapes on these walls were not made only of dust, but blood and battered fragments of flesh had been pierced and hung like emblems amidst the ghostly shine.

His eyes took in all the various shades of death, the scents and tastes of this place, the proof of an honorable defense that yet had failed. Against the dread and violet flames of a miko's wrath, only the most powerful youkai could stand. Even he had had cause to fear Kagome, in the long days before they became one.

He would be able to tell Akira that his sons and daughters had died with honor, but there would be no comfort, no emptying his rage. For a moment, Sesshomaru smiled. He would need that rage.

Many thoughts piled on top of each other, pressing everything down into a single, fragile question. Where was this miko? The time was long past when he could stand alone against the darkness that gathered, and stare coldly. Now the very essence of his own flesh was in danger, the line of his blood dragged down into miko dust.

“Kagome.”

He stepped out into the sunlight, and even that was tainted by the memory of death, the scent that clung to everything. Kagome had not heard that tone in his voice since the early days, before the warmth had crept into him. With trepidation, she looked up at him, waiting for the explanation that would smooth her worry, her fear, but his words did nothing of the sort.

“It is time that you had a proper weapon, mate. Especially now that Kouga wields tetsusaiga.”

Kagome ran one finger down the greased length of her bowstring, and turned an eye up at him.

“This is not a proper weapon?”

With one hand, Sesshomaru reached out and squeezed the elegant curve of wood. The yew bow compressed, and whined with the hollow sound that wood makes a moment before it breaks.

“You see, mate? If I were one who desired to defeat you, your most potent weapon is only a moment away from being destroyed.”

He smiled strangely, and caressed her with his eyes. The shine in them had turned bright and golden.

“To defeat a miko, one needs a youkai weapon. I will bring you to Totosai.”

Kagome let out a slow breath of air she had not know she was holding. It had been long years since she had seen the youkai weapon smith. The last time she had seen him, she had been with Inuyasha.

“I have not seen Totosai in a long time, Sesshomaru. Where has he been hiding?”

A raised eyebrow greeted her.

“I know where to find him. For ages, he has made his home in the fire-mountains to the south. The ground is cracked with heat there. Melted rock moves over the surface of the earth like water, and embers fall like rain.”

His eyes clouded with memory.

“There was a day, nearly a century and a half ago, when ash and fire clouded the sky. Now there is only broken earth left to remember it by.”

Kagome remembered the steaming ground, the places she had not been able to walk, ribbons of heat on the ground like gleaming red strings.

“When are we leaving, Sess-chan?”

Sesshomaru turned to take a last look at the defeated village.

“We are going now. And after, we have an errand to Akira.”

She knew they would be messengers of death, and shuddered.

 

 

The long miles between the villages in the north and the fire mountains in the south passed under their feet swiftly. Sesshomaru was through waiting for answers and asking questions. The swiftest way to answers was on a path laid through blood - how many times would he have to suffer with that lesson?

Only a single night passed over their journey, and the scent of sulfur streamed up to meet them as they approached the black, cracked ground. When they were close enough to taste the chemical burn of salty heat from deep in the earth, they could see that the black surface was actually grey. Variations of that color lay in long stripes, reminders of earlier lava flows that had long before cooled and hardened.

Over it all, a thin layer of hot ash gave the surface of the magma rocks and molten lava a silver shine. Sesshomaru knew the safe path, the way between hot pools of liquid rock and the shimmering red paths that wound around them. Heat blew up from the ground and hit them like a wave, far worse than the hottest day of summer. Gradually, they moved across the sulfurous plain, and the rock around their feet began to cool. A tall series of mountainous rocks and melted slag became visible through the smoke. A darkened opening led into a small cavern - a different kind of steam sifted from its dark interior, and a patient ox sat on its haunches just inside the cave mouth.

Kagome had been in the sword smith's cave before, waiting while Inuyasha sought to master the blazing fury of tetsusaiga. When they called, and no one answered, Sesshomaru pressed through the darkness into the cave.

“Totosai. You may not hide from me. Come out.”

A muffled sound of indignation and fury came to their ears, along with a sound like many bones and branches rattling together. Kagome turned to the source of the sound, peering, and then held a hand over her mouth to stifle a burst of laughter. With the other, she pointed.

“Sess-chan, look!”

Further back in the cavern, a lone skinny arm stuck out with a hammer firmly clenched in its fist. It disappeared at the shoulder into a pile of sheaths and tools. Every time Totosai tried to stand, the whole pile shuddered and made a noise like wind in a winter wood. Laughing, Kagome pulled at Totosai's arm, and he popped out with a rumble of collapsing sheaths.

“Totosai! Are you still alive?”

Only Sesshomaru was slightly startled by this familiarity. Totosai looked Kagome up and down, and his eyes lingered on her bow, the shine of the heads of her arrows. The moment after that, he found Sesshomaru. Fear flitted across his face like an insect on water.

“Sesshomaru-sama! Its been so long, wonderful to see you, really…uh…”

Kagome laughed, full of memories.

“You have not changed, Totosai. Do you remember me? I was human once. I traveled with Inuyasha and tetsusaiga.”

Totosai's eyes brightened visibly.

“Ah, yes! How is that sword?”

She smiled.

“My son wields it now, a gift from his father for his Awakening.”

A scowl ran its way across Totosai's face.

“Inuyasha has children now? Fates preserve us…”

Sesshomaru's growl was the answer this time, distracting the smith from the stricken look on Kagome's face.

“Kagome is my mate, Totosai. It is my son she speaks of. Inuyasha has been dead for a score of years.”

His tone was harsh, grating, but Totosai just shook his head with a sigh.

“He was always reckless, that one.”

Sesshomaru waved the comment away, and the weapon smith stretched slowly, brushing dust off his robe.

“Well, Sesshomaru-sama, what brings you to me this time? You are not seeking another sword I hope?”

The lack of amusement on Sesshomaru's face shut down Totosai's garrulous attempts at humor. His throat dried out; quite loudly, he tried to swallow and failed.

“I do not seek another sword. I seek a weapon for my mate. A bow is her choice.”

Totosai's eyebrows raised almost off his face.

“Oh? And what would you offer as payment for such a weapon?”

Sesshomaru's sudden smile was crafty, his eyes brighter than gold in the dimness.

“First you must show me that such a weapon may handle her. Afterwards, we will discuss payment.”

Totosai's face changed. This was a challenge to his skill, to his weapons, and while he would not risk himself for much, in this he had no choice. His honor was at stake!

“I will allow her to fire a single shot from the most powerful bow I have ever forged. No one has come who wished to wield it that could do even that much.”

Kagome lay her plain yew bow on the floor, and drew a single arrow from her quiver. Her calm was eerie as she held out her left hand.

“Give me this bow, Totosai.”

From the back of his storage room, behind the fallen pile of sheaths, Totosai drew out a weapon with silky curves that gleamed the deep green of deadly venom. It was already strung, and the string crackled with blue and yellow energies, reaching up to wrap even around Totosai's fingers as he handed it to Kagome. His voice rang into the stillness between them, pride in every echo.

“The string of this bow will not perish, nor will it crack under the mightiest strength! It was forged from the ribs of a poisonous dragon, and its string is a hair from the tail of a thunder demon!”

Kagome lay her arrow on the crackling string with a ruffle of feathers as her fingers passed over them. Even before she began to draw back the string, there was an audible whine. The sound grew as she held the bow at full tension, a creaking sound like an unoiled hinge in seven octaves.

The arrow drew on her power, glowing with brightness, and she released it with her exhalation. The bow shrieked in protest, and burst asunder. Totosai yelped and leapt out of the way. Kagome stepped backward, releasing the fragment of glittering bow that had remained in her hand. The pieces of the weapon wriggled on the ground like severed bits of worms, and then fell still.

Still silent, Sesshomaru bent to touch one still piece, but before he could reach it the fragments dissolved into dust.

Springing from demon strength and miko purity, the arrow had clinked into the stone wall at the back of Totosai's cave. As soon as the sound had faded from the air, the smith was on his feet, gesticulating wildly, fear forgotten in the face of his anger and embarrassment. He seemed to have forgotten that Sesshomaru was even there.

“My bow! By the lords of hell, my bow! Years of searching it took me, to find ribs of the right size and composition! Years more, to barter for that single strand of hair!”

Kagome looked abashed and amused at the same time. Even Sesshomaru was smiling. He had expected her power to rise to the challenge, and he had not been disappointed. It was necessary for Totosai to understand what he was dealing with.

“Now, Totosai, tell me what solution you have for my problem. Is there another smith who can forge me a weapon that she will not destroy?”

Sputtering, punctuating his angry words with an angry finger, Totosai tried to wipe the bow-dust from his floor, but it was not even distinguishable from the dirt.

“Do not be foolish, Sesshomaru! I am the only one who could forge such a weapon, if indeed it can be forged! The materials are not readily available, and in all honesty, I have not heard or seen of any demonic weapon that could stand up to such a powerful miko.”

He shook his head.

“To channel such energy would indeed be a challenge.”

His eyes gleamed with the thought, and Kagome smiled. Sesshomaru was already serious again, thinking ahead.

“What is it you need to create a bow for my mate, Totosai?”

An evil grin claimed the weapon smith's face, and he reached behind him into the pile of fallen tools to claim a shining pair of wood and silver pliers.

“Give me your fangs, Sesshomaru, and I will make you a weapon to outshine even the Tetsusaiga. It will stand her power, her miko strength - it will be of you.”

He rubbed his forehead for a moment as though weary.

“I did not expect to forge another weapon of great power at my age, and especially not for your family. But she is too strong, too strong not to have her own weapon…”

Sesshomaru followed his eyes ,and Kagome turned from where she stood in the doorway to flash a smile at him. The sun was in her - she shone almost golden. For a moment, it seemed impossible that he had commissioned a deadly weapon for her to wield. He turned the slice of his eyes back on the smith.

“What is it you desire as payment, Totosai?”

“You must bring me the elements I require.”

Sesshomaru's eyes glittered.

“Tell me what it is you need.”

 

 

In the long silent hallways of Sesshomaru's fortress, stillness reigned. The dragon servants had all deserted their posts. The castle could have been empty for centuries, the tapestries dim and faded-looking while all the lanterns were unlit.

A liquid menace slept in the stones. The crackling energy that Kinawai had tasted on another morning's air had coalesced into this tingling danger. In the silence, a sudden purr of footsteps was more striking than lightning. The sound hit the wall, and a dry rustling like the slipping movement of snakes came from nowhere and filled everywhere. There was a noise that only Kagome had ever heard before - the rippling cackle of caged electricity in a world that had known only the brightness in storm clouds.

The sound was louder than the roar of a thousand angry youkai. It crashed down like rolling blue silk, vibrant in its density. The sound dispersed quickly, leaving the leaping fingers of light to glide up the wall stones and seep into the mortar.

“So this deadly, famous power is mine after all.”

The voice was female, and a tall, thin figure sped down the long halls, without further words. Her feet did not even seem to touch the floor. There was something ghostly, something spectral in her motions, even in the wavering lisp of her voice.

“Open.”

The mouth that spoke that single word was pale and voluptuous, but the rest of the features in that face were pinched, too thin for beauty of any human standard, frail and yet forceful. There was power in that word, as it was spoken, but it was obviously not enough. The door stayed shut. An angry hiss ground past those sumptuous lips, and she made a motion, as though she were about to rip the door from its hinges.

“I, Akasuki, Empress of the Celestial City, command you to open!”

The door shook. The hinges rattled and squealed as if the metal were going to splinter instead of the door. Violently, suddenly, the door came free, and Akasuki darted to one side. The wood smashed against the wall and broke into many pieces, and from the other side a dart of blue flame reached out and took her by the throat, pulling her in.

There was no blood in her for it to claim, but it held on anyway.

“This foolishness…”

She tugged against the power, feeling it grasp through her fleshlessness. That struggle was worthless, a waste of energies. A sound like snapping, gulping darkness filled the room, and the light and fire ripped around, simmering around her. Like a pulsing tide, it rose to the ceiling and then poured out the open door. Laughing eyes lingered, staring at the blistered wood and the rushing charge of power.

“And now, return. Return to me!”

Feeling willingness, tasting a hunger that fed its own hunger, energy rippled like a swarm of winds and rushed at her. In the extreme silence that followed, full of power, the expression on her face was a contortion of agony and surprise.

Deep water roared n her ears. Scorched, she tried to step away, but blue consumed her and was engulfed in its turn by gold. The blaze was brighter than light, brighter than creation, and then she was gone.

Not a sight or a scream lingered. The energy pulsed, growing as if with pride, and then swooped from the chamber, freed of its first captivity, to rampage down the long and silent hallways.