InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Once Upon an Inuyoukai ❯ The Fallen ( Chapter 8 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Empatheia 
Upon arrival at the Southlord's castle, the group immediately knows that there is something very wrong.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.19.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 254 | Status: Completed
Upon arrival at the Southlord's castle, the group immediately knows that there is something very wrong.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Hentai / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.19.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 254 | Status: Completed
The muses continue to sing to me. There will be more action in this chapter- I can't linger in sweet angst for too long. Things will start to move a little faster now, with the occasional lull like last chapter. I'll try to make them longer- but honestly, I just stop whenever a good ending line presents itself. Read and review, please. It's not an ego thing (mostly), I just need to know what I'm doing right. This is for you! If you want the story to please you, then you have to tell me what you want.
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Chapter Eight: The Fallen
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
What is the colour of humiliation?
After a great deal of fabulously distracting thought involving kittens, buckets, and a variety of flatulent noises, Izayoi decided it was a sort of deep shade of rose. Like the colour cheeks turn when blushing. The events of the night before played merrily through her head, trampling her dignity beneath their merry feet. Speculatively, she wondered if her mind actually took pleasure in flagellating itself for hours on end.
Breakfast was a silent affair, and she amused herself by trying to determine which method he was planning to use to kill her by reading the shadows in his hair. Death seemed a foregone conclusion. The cold rice tasted like maggots in her dry mouth. I'm dead. I'm so dead. I'm going to die. What in the seven hells was I thinking?
She sat in a private bubble of misery for the first three hours, crouched on his back while trying to touch as little of him as possible, which made everything rather awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. She wished he would stop playing around and just get it over with so the suffering would finally end. I, a mere human, dared to throw myself at the mighty demon lord (who is to me as a giant is to a gnat) like some shameless hussy! I then proceeded to slather his pristine (well, perhaps not so pristine) robes with my digusting tears and snot! And then... then... I had the temerity to fall asleep! Anyone else would have been dead already... perhaps he just delayed my execution so that I could stew a while in my own misery.
In that case... I retract my humiliation. He is a vicious, inhuman scoundrel who has no heart and I hate him.
The woods were innocuously golden and ochre with autumn, clean of any hint of the raging mess of the night before. Sun filtered warmly down through the trees. It was no longer visually frightening, but she could still sense the immense destructive power of the backed-up mana just beyond the walls of the shield she'd built for them to travel in. It was... ominous, like standing on a dwindling island in the midst of a great, slow-moving flood. The currents were all around, invisible but deadly powerful. The autumn trees were withering, if one looked close enough, and nary a bird flew the sky. Mana was the stuff of life... but too much of it was death, as is the same with most things.
The speed of Inutaisho's feet brought them to Lord Sakenmaru's castle by sundown. It was an imposing affair, several stories high and clinging to a mountainside like sharp-edged fungal growth. It had been years since either of them had been there, and the changes wrought were astounding. Where once the place had fairly shone, a bright beacon of cheer and warmth, it was now a place of death. Moss grew green and slimy on the crumbling walls, the lanterns were pale and sickly, and the guards were listless and silent. There was nothing left of the proud palace of ten years ago. What had happened?
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, knowing he felt the same nameless pain she did over seeing a great thing fallen. The silence still lay between them, though, so she said nothing. As they approached, he let her down to her feet and their small party approached the great wooden gate, moldering with neglect. The whole castle stank of decay. The sentries called down, voices falling flat on the stagnant air.
"Who goes there?" Profound uncaring echoed in the soldier's voice. It was unsettling, to say the least.
"Lord Inutaisho of the Western Lands, with his retinue," Jaken squawked gracelessly. Izayoi tensed, waiting for the flurried reaction and flying arrows that she expected after an announcement like that. For a long, long moment, she waited.
Then..."Enter," and the massive gate swung open with a groan, pushing rank mud out in a rut as it went. No shouts of alarm, no arrows. Apprehensively, they passed through into the outer courtyard, to find more of the same. Far fewer people than there should have been, and those listless and flat-eyed as they went about their tasks on leaden feet. She inhaled shallowly, trying not to smell the rancid scent of decay that hung about in a greenish-grey miasma.
No one paid them any attention. "I don't like this," she said, breaking the long silence. He made a low sound.
"Stay close." She obeyed, sidling closer to his left side. His hand hovered over his left hip unconsciously, itching to draw the sword that hung there. She felt comforted he was there and knew how to wield that long sharp length. Especially since the foreboding atmosphere of the courtyard was getting worse by the minute.
"Where is Lord Sakenmaru?" Inutaisho boomed. "I would speak with him." The little hairs on her arms rose when nobody even turned to look at them, merely continuing on their paths like puppets, empty and soulless.
"Inutaisho..." she squeaked, forgetting to add an apellation. "Something is really wrong here, my intuition is going haywire." He made the low noise again and drew the longsword. In a tight cluster, they advanced to the main doors of the castle. When no one obstructed them, they entered and headed for the throne room. Her shoulders were trying to climb the sides of her head, the muscles tightening and hunching. "Something very bad happened here." That wasn't quite right. "Is happening."
Inutaisho threw the throne room doors open. And everything became clear.
The great lion demon, Sakenmaru, lay withered and barely alive in his throne. His long tawny hair was matted and tangled, his beard crusted with his own saliva. Around him coiled a smoky shape, writhing and undulating. Tendrils of shadow snaked from it through the walls, and Izayoi would have bet her last yen that each tendril led to a person. She prayed to every kami she could think of that their souls were still in their bodies. If they weren't, they were doomed. Please, please... she felt the need to salvage something from this cesspit.
Sakenmaru was sealed, and his subjects possessed. He was helpless to do anything, frozen in a catatonic state, dreaming dark and convoluted dreams not of his making. The South was paralyzed, under the control of whoever the serpent-seal belonged to.
"There's your answer, Inutaisho," she whispered. "He didn't turn against you, after all." He turned to her as though to question how she knew that was his thought, but couldn't form the words. His oldest, staunchest ally lay in a puddle of his own drool, utterly defenseless- she understood what he didn't say. And then understood what he didn't ask. "I can't," she said. "I'm sorry." He nodded.
"Do not worry yourself, I would not expect you to have that ability. We need a miko for this. We need Naruka."
"Midoriko-sama's heir?" she gasped. "You know her?" He turned and regarded her coolly.
"Not personally. She is an ally of the family." She was astounded. The thought that an influential youkai family would have anything to do with a priestess was completely oxymoronic- it just wasn't done. "A secret ally." That went without saying. Mikos did not consort with demons. Ever. They purified them out of existence for a living. "Jaken!" he bellowed, making her jump.
"Yes, milord?" The poor toad looked utterly shellshocked.
"Take the dragon and fetch Naruka, the miko. You will find her in a small town called Nishiri, on the west coast."
"I know it, my lord. I go to do your bidding." He fair fled the dank hall, his relief palpable.
"And now we wait." She repressed a moan at the thought. This was his decision. "Can you find us a cave somewhere beyond the flood, but close to here?" he asked, surprisingly. She nodded vigorously. "Good. Do it." She complied, swamped with relief that he didn't want to stay in the horrible fallen place that had once been beautiful. Within minutes, she had found one, high above the castle proper. Again, the exertion of using the crystal in the mana-saturated environment left her weak and wavering. Wordlessly Inutaisho lifted her off her feet, and she felt pathetically grateful for the courtesy.
"If this keeps up, my legs will atrophy," she joked feebly. He grunted, lips curving slightly. "Can we get out of here? Please?" She blinked and they were outside. It seemed the atmosphere was affecting him too. A thought struck her. "Does Jaken know to stay high in the air until he gets beyond the flood?" They both froze. If he were to land in that maelstrom...
"The dragon will know," Inutaisho said after a moment, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, Ah-Un was sensitive to that. He would never be foolish enough to let himself drown in mana.
"Oh, good," she breathed fervently. "Now I don't have to worry."
"You would worry about Jaken?" he queried wryly. She snorted.
"No, I was worried about Ah-Un!"
"I think you rather like that little sycophant," he commented.
"So do you," she countered. He grunted.
"I do not 'like' my servants. If they are efficient, I am pleased with them."
"Of course."
"You try my patience, woman."
"Izayoi!" she yelled despite her weakness. "I have a name, use it!"
"No." That balked her.
"...Why not?" He shrugged, jostling her uncomfortably.
"Because." She growled at him in frustration.
"It's just a name! You'd think I was asking you to kneel and kiss my feet!"
"I feel ill enough without such images." She gasped.
"You.. you... ugh!"
"How articulate of you." The smirk was so evident she didn't even need to look up to see it.
She crossed her arms and sulked. Being away from the ghastly miasma was making her light-hearted, and she found she was quite enjoying the banter. "You are a pompous, self-important windbag," she remarked casually.
He stiffened, and she realized that she was probably the first person ever to speak to him that way. If he didn't need her for the path ahead, she felt quite sure she might have just died. The realization gave her goosebumps.
"I'm sorry, for a moment..." she began.
He cut her off. "And you are an astoundingly stupid, loudmouthed wench."
She stared at him. Not only was she alive, he'd just lowered himself to play her little game. "Oh really? Well, I think you are the most arrogant, bigheaded jerks I've ever met," she tested, fingers crossed.
"Is that so," he nonchalantly replied. "At least I don't smell."
"I do not smell!" she cried, then realized she'd lost a point. "Damn you."
He chuckled. "If you were less valuable, you would have been dead after the first comment," he reminded her.
Sobering, she let her smile fade. "I know. For a moment there, I forgot who you were and was treating you like one of my friends."
He was silent for a moment. "How many friends do you have?"
Taken aback, she counted on her fingers. "About three?"
"So many! They must be very tolerant people if you call them 'self-important windbags' in casual conversation."
She laughed. "Oh, I don't call them that. They've already earned my respect."
It was his turn to laugh.
She pointed her finger slightly up and left. "There, there's the cave." It was very small, smaller than it had seemed in her vision. There was room enough for the two of them, but whoever was closer to the entrance might be a little chilled at night. And it would be crowded. She blushed. He looked at it, expression blank.
"This will do." It would be a long three days until Jaken got back, she could just feel it.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
YAAAWWWWWNNN so tired. The muses are still caterwauling in my head, but I'm ready to go to sleep so they'll have to wait til tomorrow. REVIEW PLEASE, I beg of you. I'm flying blindly in the dark here.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Chapter Eight: The Fallen
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
What is the colour of humiliation?
After a great deal of fabulously distracting thought involving kittens, buckets, and a variety of flatulent noises, Izayoi decided it was a sort of deep shade of rose. Like the colour cheeks turn when blushing. The events of the night before played merrily through her head, trampling her dignity beneath their merry feet. Speculatively, she wondered if her mind actually took pleasure in flagellating itself for hours on end.
Breakfast was a silent affair, and she amused herself by trying to determine which method he was planning to use to kill her by reading the shadows in his hair. Death seemed a foregone conclusion. The cold rice tasted like maggots in her dry mouth. I'm dead. I'm so dead. I'm going to die. What in the seven hells was I thinking?
She sat in a private bubble of misery for the first three hours, crouched on his back while trying to touch as little of him as possible, which made everything rather awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. She wished he would stop playing around and just get it over with so the suffering would finally end. I, a mere human, dared to throw myself at the mighty demon lord (who is to me as a giant is to a gnat) like some shameless hussy! I then proceeded to slather his pristine (well, perhaps not so pristine) robes with my digusting tears and snot! And then... then... I had the temerity to fall asleep! Anyone else would have been dead already... perhaps he just delayed my execution so that I could stew a while in my own misery.
In that case... I retract my humiliation. He is a vicious, inhuman scoundrel who has no heart and I hate him.
The woods were innocuously golden and ochre with autumn, clean of any hint of the raging mess of the night before. Sun filtered warmly down through the trees. It was no longer visually frightening, but she could still sense the immense destructive power of the backed-up mana just beyond the walls of the shield she'd built for them to travel in. It was... ominous, like standing on a dwindling island in the midst of a great, slow-moving flood. The currents were all around, invisible but deadly powerful. The autumn trees were withering, if one looked close enough, and nary a bird flew the sky. Mana was the stuff of life... but too much of it was death, as is the same with most things.
The speed of Inutaisho's feet brought them to Lord Sakenmaru's castle by sundown. It was an imposing affair, several stories high and clinging to a mountainside like sharp-edged fungal growth. It had been years since either of them had been there, and the changes wrought were astounding. Where once the place had fairly shone, a bright beacon of cheer and warmth, it was now a place of death. Moss grew green and slimy on the crumbling walls, the lanterns were pale and sickly, and the guards were listless and silent. There was nothing left of the proud palace of ten years ago. What had happened?
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, knowing he felt the same nameless pain she did over seeing a great thing fallen. The silence still lay between them, though, so she said nothing. As they approached, he let her down to her feet and their small party approached the great wooden gate, moldering with neglect. The whole castle stank of decay. The sentries called down, voices falling flat on the stagnant air.
"Who goes there?" Profound uncaring echoed in the soldier's voice. It was unsettling, to say the least.
"Lord Inutaisho of the Western Lands, with his retinue," Jaken squawked gracelessly. Izayoi tensed, waiting for the flurried reaction and flying arrows that she expected after an announcement like that. For a long, long moment, she waited.
Then..."Enter," and the massive gate swung open with a groan, pushing rank mud out in a rut as it went. No shouts of alarm, no arrows. Apprehensively, they passed through into the outer courtyard, to find more of the same. Far fewer people than there should have been, and those listless and flat-eyed as they went about their tasks on leaden feet. She inhaled shallowly, trying not to smell the rancid scent of decay that hung about in a greenish-grey miasma.
No one paid them any attention. "I don't like this," she said, breaking the long silence. He made a low sound.
"Stay close." She obeyed, sidling closer to his left side. His hand hovered over his left hip unconsciously, itching to draw the sword that hung there. She felt comforted he was there and knew how to wield that long sharp length. Especially since the foreboding atmosphere of the courtyard was getting worse by the minute.
"Where is Lord Sakenmaru?" Inutaisho boomed. "I would speak with him." The little hairs on her arms rose when nobody even turned to look at them, merely continuing on their paths like puppets, empty and soulless.
"Inutaisho..." she squeaked, forgetting to add an apellation. "Something is really wrong here, my intuition is going haywire." He made the low noise again and drew the longsword. In a tight cluster, they advanced to the main doors of the castle. When no one obstructed them, they entered and headed for the throne room. Her shoulders were trying to climb the sides of her head, the muscles tightening and hunching. "Something very bad happened here." That wasn't quite right. "Is happening."
Inutaisho threw the throne room doors open. And everything became clear.
The great lion demon, Sakenmaru, lay withered and barely alive in his throne. His long tawny hair was matted and tangled, his beard crusted with his own saliva. Around him coiled a smoky shape, writhing and undulating. Tendrils of shadow snaked from it through the walls, and Izayoi would have bet her last yen that each tendril led to a person. She prayed to every kami she could think of that their souls were still in their bodies. If they weren't, they were doomed. Please, please... she felt the need to salvage something from this cesspit.
Sakenmaru was sealed, and his subjects possessed. He was helpless to do anything, frozen in a catatonic state, dreaming dark and convoluted dreams not of his making. The South was paralyzed, under the control of whoever the serpent-seal belonged to.
"There's your answer, Inutaisho," she whispered. "He didn't turn against you, after all." He turned to her as though to question how she knew that was his thought, but couldn't form the words. His oldest, staunchest ally lay in a puddle of his own drool, utterly defenseless- she understood what he didn't say. And then understood what he didn't ask. "I can't," she said. "I'm sorry." He nodded.
"Do not worry yourself, I would not expect you to have that ability. We need a miko for this. We need Naruka."
"Midoriko-sama's heir?" she gasped. "You know her?" He turned and regarded her coolly.
"Not personally. She is an ally of the family." She was astounded. The thought that an influential youkai family would have anything to do with a priestess was completely oxymoronic- it just wasn't done. "A secret ally." That went without saying. Mikos did not consort with demons. Ever. They purified them out of existence for a living. "Jaken!" he bellowed, making her jump.
"Yes, milord?" The poor toad looked utterly shellshocked.
"Take the dragon and fetch Naruka, the miko. You will find her in a small town called Nishiri, on the west coast."
"I know it, my lord. I go to do your bidding." He fair fled the dank hall, his relief palpable.
"And now we wait." She repressed a moan at the thought. This was his decision. "Can you find us a cave somewhere beyond the flood, but close to here?" he asked, surprisingly. She nodded vigorously. "Good. Do it." She complied, swamped with relief that he didn't want to stay in the horrible fallen place that had once been beautiful. Within minutes, she had found one, high above the castle proper. Again, the exertion of using the crystal in the mana-saturated environment left her weak and wavering. Wordlessly Inutaisho lifted her off her feet, and she felt pathetically grateful for the courtesy.
"If this keeps up, my legs will atrophy," she joked feebly. He grunted, lips curving slightly. "Can we get out of here? Please?" She blinked and they were outside. It seemed the atmosphere was affecting him too. A thought struck her. "Does Jaken know to stay high in the air until he gets beyond the flood?" They both froze. If he were to land in that maelstrom...
"The dragon will know," Inutaisho said after a moment, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, Ah-Un was sensitive to that. He would never be foolish enough to let himself drown in mana.
"Oh, good," she breathed fervently. "Now I don't have to worry."
"You would worry about Jaken?" he queried wryly. She snorted.
"No, I was worried about Ah-Un!"
"I think you rather like that little sycophant," he commented.
"So do you," she countered. He grunted.
"I do not 'like' my servants. If they are efficient, I am pleased with them."
"Of course."
"You try my patience, woman."
"Izayoi!" she yelled despite her weakness. "I have a name, use it!"
"No." That balked her.
"...Why not?" He shrugged, jostling her uncomfortably.
"Because." She growled at him in frustration.
"It's just a name! You'd think I was asking you to kneel and kiss my feet!"
"I feel ill enough without such images." She gasped.
"You.. you... ugh!"
"How articulate of you." The smirk was so evident she didn't even need to look up to see it.
She crossed her arms and sulked. Being away from the ghastly miasma was making her light-hearted, and she found she was quite enjoying the banter. "You are a pompous, self-important windbag," she remarked casually.
He stiffened, and she realized that she was probably the first person ever to speak to him that way. If he didn't need her for the path ahead, she felt quite sure she might have just died. The realization gave her goosebumps.
"I'm sorry, for a moment..." she began.
He cut her off. "And you are an astoundingly stupid, loudmouthed wench."
She stared at him. Not only was she alive, he'd just lowered himself to play her little game. "Oh really? Well, I think you are the most arrogant, bigheaded jerks I've ever met," she tested, fingers crossed.
"Is that so," he nonchalantly replied. "At least I don't smell."
"I do not smell!" she cried, then realized she'd lost a point. "Damn you."
He chuckled. "If you were less valuable, you would have been dead after the first comment," he reminded her.
Sobering, she let her smile fade. "I know. For a moment there, I forgot who you were and was treating you like one of my friends."
He was silent for a moment. "How many friends do you have?"
Taken aback, she counted on her fingers. "About three?"
"So many! They must be very tolerant people if you call them 'self-important windbags' in casual conversation."
She laughed. "Oh, I don't call them that. They've already earned my respect."
It was his turn to laugh.
She pointed her finger slightly up and left. "There, there's the cave." It was very small, smaller than it had seemed in her vision. There was room enough for the two of them, but whoever was closer to the entrance might be a little chilled at night. And it would be crowded. She blushed. He looked at it, expression blank.
"This will do." It would be a long three days until Jaken got back, she could just feel it.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
YAAAWWWWWNNN so tired. The muses are still caterwauling in my head, but I'm ready to go to sleep so they'll have to wait til tomorrow. REVIEW PLEASE, I beg of you. I'm flying blindly in the dark here.