InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodlust ❯ Mother ( Chapter 36 )

It was not only where Sesshomaru passed with Kagome's limp form that night reclaimed day, but over all the lands that had felt the touch of his impossible agony. Akira watched the eclipsed dawn with a tingle of foreboding, seeing the glow of dark-light around the edge of the concealed sun through a haze of evil warnings that pressed subtly on his inner senses. Day after day there had been no change in the stance of the enemy, only a decrease in the number of youkai who stayed in the standing lines of their army, and an increase in the number of small guerilla groups that clustered nearer and nearer to the encampments of the army under his control. The small groups, always fifteen, stayed silently waiting and watching, as though for some hidden signal. Magic had been used against them in the quick and frantic battles that had come so infrequently since Sesshomaru's departure, as if the commanders of the dragon youkai were distracted by something else, and Akira was nearly ready to tempt fate and come down hard up on the dragons before the could work the new sorcery he feared they were planning. His thoughts were interrupted by a wave of a newly familiar scent, and he turned with an inward sigh to greet his visitor.

"Lord Kouga. It is good to see you well, how may I be of assistance?"

The formal terms of address grated on Akira's personal opinion of the demon lord, and he waited with no small impatience for the wolf Prince to state his business and leave him to his thoughts. News of the challenge by combat that Kouga had made and lost against his Lord had told Akira much he needed to know, and he found that reckless courage and great arrogance were an unfortunate combination that seemed to define Kouga's entire self image.

Kouga ignored the shifting nuances of the inu-commander's scent, and smiled, the look giving a predatory gleam to darting brown eyes.

"Some of my wolves have captured a dragon youkai traveling between two of the guerilla camps nearer to the borders of our encampment. I thought perhaps you might like to….assist in the questioning."

Akira nodded, his pulse quickening with surprise, and followed Kouga out of the camp and down into a gully of lush green, to the edge of the forest where the forces of the south had settled themselves. Bound tightly with heavy chains to a metal post sunk deep into the ground, a single dragon youkai stared at them from ember-red eyes, hot as glowing coals. The tongue moved, snake-like in its forked flexings, and lizard dry nostrils flared in disgust as the commander of the armies of the west and the Lord of the South strode directly towards it.

Though he stood immediately in front of the creature, Akira could detect no tingling of youkai, no scent, no presence to any of his senses but sight that the youkai in front of him actually existed, and he shuddered with unease. If not for the assurance provided by Kouga's glaring stare at the demon in front of them, he would have thought that he hallucinated, that he had gone completely mad. Not only chains bound the youkai to his place - sixteen wolves prowled around the base of the pole, deep growls showing that they, too, were affected by the strange magic which hid sense and scent, and that they, too, were disturbed by it.

As though noticing them for the first time, the dragon opened its mouth wide, as if to speak, and instead followed a deprecating smile with a chilling hiss, that scattered the wolves standing guard nearby; they dropped tails and ran to the farthest corner of the camp. Kouga felt it, a shimmer of distress that crept up his spine, teasing him with its insubstantial touch, and looking into the wild death-gaze the dragon youkai held, he new that the demon could sense his unease, and delighted in it.

"Dragon! By right of membership in the Council of Lords, I am given authority to enforce its dictates. Know that you will die, but that the choice of whether or not you die without pain is a matter for you to decide with the answers to my questions."

The imperious, formal tone shocked Akira coming from Kouga's mouth, and he wondered for a moment if he had misjudged the young lord, and watched with a slight increase in respect. But the bound demon did not seem to have the same appreciation for Kouga's authority, and gave again its wide-mouthed, spitting hiss, with a difference that washed them all with a scent of rot and decay that forced nausea of the soul into the forefront of their thoughts. For a moment, it seemed as though all the dead things in the dark places of the earth beneath their feet rose in a silent scream, backing the hiss of the demon in front of them, and when corrupted senses recovered from a scent and feeling that conveyed utter doom, the chains in front of them held old and dry bones, long empty of any soul.

Sesshomaru ran more swiftly and gently than he had ever run, more careful with the stillness of Kagome's warm-gentle body than he had been even with his dying mother, though his hurry then had been at the end of desperation, and tainted with despair. He looked down into the taut, pain-filled lines of her face, and was nearly tossed back into a haze of memories, forced to relive with his mate the journey he had tried to make once before.

On the edge of a forest that bordered the high mountains of the northern lands, Sesshomaru found what he was looking for, in the gently glowing presence of a single female youkai, the taste of her power at once elusive and unforgettable to the probing tendrils of his youkai. It had not changed in more than two centuries, and he tried to move faster, spurred by the scent of Kagome's blood and his own knowledge of the veiled nature of the youkai he sought. He did not notice that instead of going faster, he was slowing, did not notice when he halted, and fell deeply and completely into an uncontrollable trance.

*In the first days of Sesshomaru's battle training, when his father had recognized the strength of his son and the depth of his emotions, he had cautioned against both cruelty and kindness, telling his son to search always for the middle way, teaching in the ancient ways that justice was found in the moment between heartbeats, when the right decision seemed most difficult to make.

But the Lord InuTaisho could not caution against love, because his own heart belonged to Nyaki, his mate, the star fire and sun blossom who had healed his life. Before Nyaki he had courted, and had seen in the youkai females who came to him a lust for power and wealth, for the strength of the house of the lords of the west, and it first irritated and then disgusted him. There were many who were beautiful, many with intelligence and courtesy, those with strong magic, and those who possessed all. Even a single miko-youkai, she who was called Storm Flower, and who had never before paid attention to any male. Many said she was most beautiful, most accomplished, most fitting for the greatest of the four Great Lords, but InuTaisho would have none of her, consumed only with Nyaki form the moment he found her, and when he had mated her he paid no more attention to Storm Flower than to the other females he had spurned.

In Sesshomaru's fiftieth summer, between child and adulthood, he walked with the mother he loved above all else through a clear forest glade in a shine of moonlight, and though the night was chill with the ending of the sun, they felt no cold.

"Tell me, my son, what do you think of your father's teachings?"

Sesshomaru's young face scrunched in concentration, as he tried to give a serious answer.

"It is hard. Fighting is hard, but the philosophies of leadership are more difficult to understand. Yet I must learn, so that I will rule one day as well as father."

Nyaki smiled gently, and her eyes were half-laughing at the seriousness of her not-quite-grown son. They sat at the edge of the trees, breathing the night and the moonlight, silent in a quiet companionship that both enjoyed until Sesshomaru felt his mother stiffen beside him as an unfamiliar youkai scent tingled his nostrils in the gentle breeze that swept through the clearing. An impending sense of danger heightened the senses of the mother, and she concealed this from her son with difficulty, tasting the wind with worry.

"Stay here, little one, while I go see who has come."

From where he sat in the protective cover of the enclosing foliage, Sesshomaru watched as another youkai female, beautiful and tall, spoke with his mother. He could tell the instant that Nyaki's mood changed from slightly annoyed to full of rage, and when he heard the words that caused it, the proof was there in battle and blood before his eyes.

"You will not have him! It is me he loves! He is not for you, Storm Flower!"

The other youkai laughed, deep and mocking.

"When you are gone, I will…"

The laugh haunted his nightmares, and both laughter and face were familiar.*

"So I see you have found the dreaming tree, young Sesshomaru. You should be careful where you wander in my woods."

Sesshomaru startled awake to the words as if he had been burned, not remembering ever having fallen asleep, but with the memory of the vision-dream fresh in his mind, as though it were imprinted on his howling nerves. Kagome was still clutched in his arms, close against his heartbeat, and he looked up at the youkai standing over him with the sincerest and most open depth of gratitude in his eyes that had ever shone there. The youkai smiled and chuckled.

"Come with me, young Sesshomaru, and pray that your mate has not died. You know of my vow already."

There was pity in the depths of ice-blue eyes, and he stood carefully with his precious burden, and followed the youkai to her hidden home.

In silence, Sesshomaru watched as she worked her life-saving magic, enclosing Kagome in a warm glow that shimmered the color of her eyes, tracing every vein in Kagome's body with tingling shocks of healing youkai magic. When she was satisfied that the woman under her care would live, the youkai turned to Sesshomaru and nodded slightly.

"She is strong, her power is strong - miko and youkai both. I have never before seen the like. Her magic already had saved her life, but mine has saved your pup."

Sesshomaru stood and bowed deeply.

"I am grateful, eldest."

The youkai shook her head and sighted, and the age in her eyes was apparent openly for the first time as she looked out a low window over the trees.

"I am only sorry I could not save your mother. What did you see, beneath the dreaming tree?"

His eyes grew hard, glacial chips surrendering to youkai fire, and he turned to her with rage barely held in check by the bounders of his overstrained control.

"I saw my mother's death, and now I no longer suspect her killer, I know. Her laugh ahs not changed."

Eldest nodded.

"I have lived two thousand years on this green earth, and I have watched three great wars ravage its fair land. Here now before us lies the fourth, and yet I tell you from the wisdom in my bones that this war will break or mend all things, in good or in evil. I have long watched in the Pool of Seeing, and seen the one you mated in many destinies. Her heart chose to follow the path of love, the one most likely to find great wonder and joy, if only you can survive. Remember this, young Sesshomaru, even if you forget all else in the bloodlust of battle. Kasuka's magic is strong, stronger now than when she was Storm Flower, her power formidable, but her greatest strength is the strength of illusion, to make us see and feel those things which deal the deepest and most desperate wounds to the heart, no matter how impossible they seem. You may discover, when you find her, that even the flesh of her armies is that way - constructed of death, and fear, and mist."

Clear bright eyes glowed with hidden lightening as they met hers, unsurprised by deep wisdom from the eldest of all his kind, and once more she spoke, giving direction as she stared into water that to his eyes held no reflection.

"Leave your mate with me, and go to the aid of your commander, Lord of the West. She will be safe with me until her healing is done, and your armies will need you. She will come to you when she is ready."

It was the first time she had called him by title instead of by name, and he nodded and moved quickly to Kagome's side, kneeling by her. For the second time, unashamed, he wept, this time for her forgiveness, and then he was gone, like a ghost of wind through the trees, leaving only the taste of a sorrow - salt kiss on Kagome's lips. Eldest watched him go from the window, and shook her head slowly, tears dripping down cheeks that reflected them like the seams of age.

*Be gentle with my daughter, Lord of the West, though I know the pain she has caused you…*

Every inspection he put them through convinced Akira that the bones left behind were exactly that - bones left behind. There was no sign of where the flesh had gone - even the stench of putrid death had not lingered for more than a moment, and he shook his head, sickened by the magic in a thing that should be blade and battle; there was no test of skill in this fight against machinations of energy and illusion, and it was with anxious relief that he received news from the farthest patrol that Lord Sesshomaru sped quickly to his side. There was no trace of a female with him when he arrived, though there was a haunted pain in his eyes, and a scent of crushed berries and ripe cinnamon jasmine curled close to the demon lord's own stronger, pine-based scent. Akira arched his eyebrows questioningly, and spoke what no other there would have dared ask.

"Your mate, Lord Sesshomaru?"

The demon lord turned deep, luminous eyes, suddenly full of guilty grief, to his commander, and his reply was curt.

"She lives."

The words were simple and hid nothing, but to Akira the answer seemed mysterious.

"You have not brought her with you? Miko magic would be useful against these damned dragons."

"She is gravely wounded. I brought her to the Eldest, and when she is healed she will be sent to me here. Ask me no more!"

Akira bowed respectfully, allowing the movement to mask the awe on his face. The tales of the Eldest were saved from failing truth and tumbling into mythology by the length of youkai memory, and their own knowledge that without the dangers of battle, immortality was within their grasp. Akira followed behind Sesshomaru with thoughts flutter as the demon lord made a cursory inspection of the closest portions of the encampment, ignoring the outer fringes.

From within ten yards of the gate that led into the castle of the Western Lands and spread out over nearly half a square mile, the remainder of the armies of the west sprawled in tents and around fires, snapping to attention as the returned scent of their lord washed by them, followed by the chilling cold of his presence as he wandered past campfires until he came to Akira's low tent, and entered to find himself directly opposite Kouga. He stopped short. He had forgotten the other Lord was even there.

"Lord Sesshomaru. You chose a good time to return. Perhaps you will be able to shed some light on what these are for us."

The Taiyoukai stared down at the pile of bleached white at the end of Kouga's pointing finger, and the blank cold mask that dropped over his features still managed to convey his contempt.

"It is a pile of old bones."

Akira stepped forwards, and gestured wearily at them as well.

"They did not start out as a pile of bones, Lord Sesshomaru. We managed to capture a dragon youkai between one of their guerilla camps and another. As we began the interrogation, the creature gave a hissing scream that stunned the senses, and when we could see again, there was no trace of anything in the chains we used to hold it except the bones in front of you. All traces of its flesh had disappeared."

Sesshomaru's eyebrows raised slightly, and for the sake of both is sanity and his lands, he buried his grief and beckoned Kouga and Akira to follow him to the low table that was covered with Akira's charts and tallies. He gestured for them to sit across from him, and his eyes burned with feral intensity.

"Tell me everything that has happened since the moment I left."