InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Even After Death ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter Four

Even After Death

Kagome felt cold in the pit of her stomach- but it was irrational, she told herself, and could be chased away by reason. "Then it's not a real tomb, but a representation, right?"

"No. According to this, there are actual physical remains here."

"Then . . . it wasn't a demon."

The professor made an amused sound in the back of his throat and immediately she felt a little of the edge taken off of her sudden unease, but only a little. "Of course not- it was most likely a very evil man who was very good at manipulating people. Part of the text details the cremation and preservation of his ashes. Not only did this man have them believing he was some sort of," he couldn't hide the faint, mildly embarrassed smile playing on his lips, "lust demon, but that if his remains were preserved then he could return some day."

Her brow furrowed. "Wait, lust demon? What, you mean like an incubus?"

Again the professor shook his head. "Not exactly. An incubus would appear as a gnarled old man, whereas this 'demon' was considered extraordinarily handsome and an incubus was more brutal in taking his victims, while this . . . man used smoother and more enticing means."

The direction of the conversation had Kagome feeling a little shy now, but she pushed beyond that, vehemently reminding herself that as his future colleague she couldn't simply back away from discoveries just because she was uncomfortable discussing certain mature subject matter with him. "So the unique sacrifices you mentioned were actually . . . ."

He nodded, his eyebrows inching upward just a bit. "They referred to him as The Thief of Bliss. To put it a bit more long-winded, He who stole from mortals that which is akin to Heaven on Earth."

Face scrunching up again- maybe the shyness was shutting down her innate problem-solving processes- she muttered, "What?"

"He seduced woman and then murdered them, it seems, but . . . not until after the offered female had . . ." he ended the sentence with an awkward-sounding clearing of his throat.

"Oh," she replied simply, giving a quick nod before what the words actually meant hit her and she went a hint wide-eyed. "Ohhh . . . so they would . . . ."

"Yes."

"And he'd wait until the woman was . . . ."

"Precisely."

"And then he killed them? Like some kind of . . . black widow-er?"

"I believe so. It doesn't say he killed them, exactly. It explains that offering oneself to The Thief was concerned a great honor. He would 'gorge himself' on the bliss he brought to his offerings and inadvertently drain their life entirely. It is a little odd, I feel, that the text stresses that he could 'feed' without killing them, but the people were so generous that he saw no need to control himself."

"That's a dead-on definition of sexual predator if ever there was one."

The professor sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumpling a little as he turned the page. "And he had an entire village so brainwashed that they enabled him. This entire scenario is so twisted and . . . ."

He fell quiet again for a long time as his gaze roved the written words. His expression became increasingly somber the further he read. He turned to the next page and all she could do was watch his eyes slowly darken. His lips folded inward forming a thin, pained line as he shook his head.

"Professor?"

He didn't meet her gaze, keeping his eyes on the book. "This is an account of The Thief's final days. It almost reads like . . . ."

"Shakespeare, comparatively?"

Professor Taisho nodded somewhat stiffly.

"That's what Bruckner said." She remembered now- the linguist was an American named . . . Something Bruckner- alright, so she sort of remembered.

"I don't think he realized just how perfectly he hit the nail on the head; it isn't only the way it's portrayed, but the actual story. His forte is ancient languages, not cultures. He knew what he was reading, he just couldn't fully understand how very bizarre it all, truly, was."

"That still doesn't explain why you look so . . . thunder-struck," Kagome interjected smoothly in a quiet voice.

Finally he did raise his gaze, turning his head to meet her eyes. "In his final days, The Thief become obsessed with a particular young woman. As I said, it was considered a great honor for a woman to be accepted by him as a sacrifice. Men wanted him to choose their wives because it was considered something like a status symbol. The cult's high priest . . . had a daughter."

A pained look skittered across Kagome's face, certain she knew where this was going.

Professor Taisho gave a brief nod, agreeing with her expression. "The girl wanted to offer herself to the 'demon,' but her father wouldn't allow it. Whether it was because he loved her too much or he began to doubt that The Thief was really what he claimed to be, it doesn't say. The Thief, of course, found out about the holy man's refusal and, as he'd never been refused anything by these people before, he began to obsess over the idea of having this one girl . . . and then he learned that she shared his want.

"He convinced her that the only way she would be free to sacrifice herself to him was be if she killed her father. So she did . . . or she tried to. She poisoned him, but didn't use nearly enough of whatever it was so he appeared to have expired, when really he'd only been rendered unconscious. Understanding what the girl had attempted to do, her father let her think she'd succeeded- he'd once been The Thief's most trusted follower, so he knew the demon's weakness. He was vulnerable enough to be killed by mortal means when he was about to consume a sacrifice's offering.

"The priest waited in hiding until his daughter," he gave another uncomfortable clearing of his throat, "made her offering and just as The Thief was about to . . . partake, the man killed them both. Even with his most favored servant turning on him, The Thief still had loyal worshipers. They lamented his death, torturing and killing the priest in an attempt to ease their grief. They then cremated the murdered pair, carefully blessing and storing The Thief's ashes somewhere in this temple. It doesn't say what became of the girl's ashes, or her father's remains."

The professor closed the book and set it back on the altar. A long moment of mute thoughtfulness passed between them. It was a horrible, tragic story to Kagome- and it wasn't even with a saving grace. They hadn't died because of some star-crossed love, or anything precious like that, but over . . . lust? That was just so petty. It only made the tale that much more awful.

"It's a horrible thing that happened here, Professor, but . . . I don't understand why your expression is so severe because of it."

He let out a deep sigh, his eyes moving from hers to stare off again. "I can't say I know exactly why, it is just an ancient scandal and we stumble across those all the time in this line of work. Perhaps it's that, though. Most often it was over something bigger . . . titles, power, lands. There's just something to this that makes me feel like," he paused, uncharacteristically at a loss for eloquent or appropriate phrasing for a moment.

He gave a slow, mystified shake of his head. "For the first time in my career I feel like I'm desecrating something."

Without thinking it through, she reached over, gently touching his shoulder, but then letting her hand fall away just as quickly. "You can't think like that, Professor. That man . . . this Thief was a murderer. All the women he killed would still be forgotten- the priest and his daughter, forgotten- if it wasn't for what we're doing here. I understand now, I think. The girl and her father are lost to time, while this deplorable man was cared for and revered even after his death."

The professor gave a shallow nod, amber eyes on the floor now. Even though he seemed to be contemplating her words, his expression hadn't softened in the least.

Kagome's mouth twitched left to right a few times as she tried to come up with something to redirect his thoughts. She didn't like seeing him so vexed and then her eyes, wandering the chamber as they'd been, came to rest on the far wall.

"Um . . . we should maybe examine that section to see if we can't figure out what's causing those anomalies," she glanced over at him in questioning, hoping he didn't perceive her meager attempt to take charge of the situation as stepping on his toes in some way.

Professor Taisho looked up at the wall and she was relieved to see a spark of interest enter his eyes, though a minute lift of his brows was the only change to his expression. "We certainly should." With a nod, he pushed away from the altar and strode across the chamber to that wall, Kagome following close at his heels.

The designs carved into this particular section were unlike the rest of the text decorating the walls. While still no known deity was shown or referred to, the symbols here were repetitive, the same series of shapes again and again. The professor stepped directly up to it and then inched sideways, making room for her beside him as he frowned a little.

Pointing to the symbols, he explained, "Now that I know what I'm looking at, this is his name, just his name, over and over. What an ego . . . . This is very probably the room where his took his offerings."

She nodded, running a hand delicately along the age-worn stone. "That might explain why the altar was placed as it is. It's directly across from this." The run of the wall beneath her fingertips felt even and she found herself borrowing her professor's darkened expression from a few minutes ago.

Not only did this disprove the only real idea she'd had about the cause of those lighting defects, but the symbols themselves bothered her. They were so simple, though- two sharply elongated triangles, laid one atop the other, their tips pointing to a waxing crescent moon and then another pair of triangles laid in the opposite direction so that they, as well, pointed toward the moon. The tips of the moon's crescent were exaggerated, reminding her briefly of the way the moon in the sky had looked to her tonight.

"I have always wondered something," Professor Taisho was saying, unwittingly drawing her out of her grim reverie. "That is, I wonder if there's a correlation between genetics and spirituality."

Her bottom lip pulled into a tight, thoughtful little pout as she turned her head to look up at him. "What would make you think so?"

He shrugged as he continued running his fingers over the symbols, slowly moving lower along the wall after a line of shapes proved to have no abnormalities; by now he was hunched down enough that Kagome was nearly eye-level with him. "Well, it's been reported that psychic phenomena is stronger in those who have some family history of it than in those who are an aberration in their line. A child who is deeply psychic may not have a parent who's even a bit spiritually sensitive, but," he shrugged lightly, "they usually have a grandparent or great grandparent that was."

"O-kay," she said slowly, confused by his seemingly directionless observation. "Why are we thinking about this now?"

Glancing quickly at her as he moved to a lower row, Professor Taisho gave another of his short, somewhat self-deprecating chuckles. "I haven't lost my mind yet, Higurashi. I always have valid reasons for the places my mind wanders to. I am wondering about this because of what you told me when we arrived here- about the feelings you have toward this place. Your grandfather is a shrine priest, yes?"

She nodded silently only quirking a brow, totally unsure of where he was going with this.

"Did you or your mother ever receive training in those same rites and traditions?"

Again she nodded. "Yes, both of us. Though I really haven't done any of it since I was little, I barely remember any of that stuff."

At that he gave her a brief look that made her think he was mentally shaking a finger at her. "You have a living tie to an ancient religious tradition and you let yourself forget it? What kind of archeologist are you shaping up to be?"

Kagome shrugged, returning, at last, to inspecting the section of wall he'd left to her. "The kind that knows there's a difference between ancient ways during ancient times and ancient traditions as we know and practice them today?"

He gave a long blink, sparing a moment to glance at his watch. "Even at one in the morning, you're sharp as a tack."

"I've been here for an hour, really?"

The professor offered a distracted nod. "Having fun, time flying and all that."

A small laugh escaped her as she bent to the next row of symbols before her. "What were you saying?"

"I wonder if things like spiritual sensitivity run in families- perhaps that's what makes you feel the way you do around this place. It was recorded that they performed a very intense rite to bless and preserve The Thief's ashes." He glanced over for only a second, but it was long enough to catch her quirked brow of disbelief. "Understand that I'm speaking of the energy a person's mind can subconsciously generate- especially during things they believe deeply in, like religious ceremonies. Perhaps the energy created during rites performed by his followers left some residual sensation behind and that's what you're feeling."

She smiled- despite already being so far down the wall that they were both sitting on their heels and had not yet seemed to find a thing. "I see, now. Once you get to your point, you really do make a whole lot of sense."

Professor Taisho turned a feigned expression of being taken aback on her. "Are you poking fun at me?"

"I blame the late hour and lack of sleep- oh, and lack of decent coffee."

A silver brow inched ever so slightly upward as he turned back to his inspection. "Hmph. I will let that slide for the moment, then."

"You want to know something weird?" She asked, tipping her head as she spied what might be a crack in the wall.

"Hmm?"

"This is a waxing crescent- it's the same moon that's out tonight."

He took a second to let out a wistful sigh. "I do love bizarre coincidences."

She scowled a little at that- he seriously got loopy late at night, didn't he? Reaching out, she dragged a fingertip lightly along the crack. She realized it must be wider than it looked, because she was almost certain that she could feel air passing from the chamber into the barely visible crevice.

"Professor?"

"Hmm?" He said again, frowning at his apparent lack of finding anything anomalous.

"Take a look at this."

She shuffled over, making room for him to sit just where she'd been, but kept her finger on the crack, pinpointing it for him. The professor took her place, amber eyes narrowing as he pressed his fingers just beneath hers against the wall. He followed it upwards for just a few centimeters before a wisp of half-grin tugged at his lips.

"Here, tell me what you notice," he murmured, caught up in the search as he took hold of her fingers with his other hand and dragged them up along the stone to rest just beside his.

Kagome diligently ignored the quick flip-flop her stomach did at his careless touch and focused on the texture of the wall, the rough and faintly jagged line of the crack beneath her skin. Much to her surprise, she did notice something.

Raising her gaze along the wall, she moved her hand from his, tracing the line as it disappeared beneath a symbol and popped up again on the other side to run into the next line. "It runs beneath the crescent moons."

"Good girl," he said quietly, following the crack in the other direction. "I think there is a very good reason his name is all over this wall."

She forced a gulp down her throat- she almost didn't want this to house that murder's remains, huge find or not- but then a light grating sound met their ears. Professor Taisho shared a bewildered look with her- they were being so gentle, how could they have disrupted anything- before either of them realized what was happening.

The cracked section of wall buckled suddenly, snapping into pieces. Kagome found herself knocked out of the way as a portion fell outward, crashing into the temple floor exactly where they'd been crouched only a second ago and the other caved back, beyond her range of vision, another sound of stone crashing against stone shaking through her.

After a long moment she pulled in a trembling breath, letting it out slowly, somehow too frightened to care that Professor Taisho had thrown himself protectively over her. He slowly raised himself off of her, resting his weight on his palms and looking around a bit dazedly at the clouds of dust which still had yet to settle entirely.

He dropped his gaze to hers- his eyes a little wider than she had ever seen them, Professor Taisho just wasn't the going wide eyed at something type. "That was unexpected. Are you alright?"

"I . . . think so, just a little . . . surprised."

Nodding slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and offered her a hand up. She accepted, fighting a brief wobbly feeling in her legs as she stood- it was out of fear, not because his body had just been pressed right on top of hers, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her, though she was pretty certain it was, in fact, a little of both. He stepped lightly around the shattered section of wall and peered into the deceptively large, darkened alcove that had been revealed.

"Bring me a lantern," he muttered and Kagome rushed to grab hers from where she'd sent it down near the altar, running it back to him.

Switching it on, he held it out before him and she gingerly traced his steps, tilting her body to peer around his shoulder. Through the settling, faintly glittering whirls of dust the lantern's beam revealed a row of small, intricately inscribed earthen-clay jars, each capped with a delicately crafted waxing crescent.

"Those almost look like-"

"Canopic jars, I know," Professor Taisho finished the spoken thought for her.

Nothing further about how strange this was needed to be said- canopic jars were an Ancient Egyptian tradition, there seemed no way for this isolated tribe to have borrowed it. Perhaps they'd come up with a similar practice all on their own? But canopic jars been used for storing organs, not cremated remains, unless . . . .

"Professor? Is is possible they removed his organs and cremated all his . . . parts separately?"

He cautiously raised a leg over the cracked bit of wall still standing and set his foot down inside the alcove- confident in his belief that someday this girl was going to outshine him. "It is- traditionally it was only possessions that were stored in jars for these people and those jars tend to resemble baskets."

Kagome was looking around the space while the professor studied the jars with his eyes. He didn't notice the last piece of jagged, unsteady stone at last work its way loose from the chamber ceiling.

"Look out!" She latched her hands around his elbow, yanking him back with all her strength and they stumbled a few steps just as it finally broke free and plummeted into the alcove.

An unmistakable sound- like ceramic shattering- was oddly distinct during the crash and had the professor rushing back to investigate immediately. She was afraid to look, but suddenly Professor Taisho fell backward, hitting the ground hard on his back and letting out rough, hacking coughs that echoed unnervingly through the chamber.

"Professor!" Instantly she was on her knees beside him trying to help him to sit up.

For a moment, she thought it appeared as though he was fighting with something she just couldn't see. A flicker of light caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she pulled her worried gaze from her violently coughing professor nearly against her will to look over her shoulder.

The ash from the shattered containers was hanging in the air, whirling ever so faintly like the dust clouds had been. The light flickered again and she realized it was, impossibly, being cast by the ashes, themselves. Her arms were still loosely around Professor Taisho's shoulders and she felt him pulling on her. Snapping her attention back to him, she saw his eyes on the whirling ash and he was trying to scramble backward even as those wracking coughs continued to tear out of his throat.

She was turning her head rapidly, trying to keep her attention on both the professor and the impossible thing occurring in the alcove. The light spun then, collecting into a single pin-prick of brightness before suddenly exploding forward and slamming into his body. The force of the impact rocketed him away from Kagome and across the floor, colliding with the altar.

Deafening silence descended on the chamber almost instantly and she simply watched him for a long, silent moment. He wasn't moving- from here, she could barely tell if he was even breathing. The entire catastrophe had shaken his hair loose, so it now spilled over his face and onto his neck and chest- she couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or closed.

Slowly she inched her way over to him on her hands and knees, fighting an upwelling of tears the entire time. The center of her chest clenched painfully as she wondered how badly injured he was- she told herself it was only her fear. She reached him at last, biting deep into her lower lip to still its trembling as she delicately scooped his hair into her hands and pushed it back from his face.

He gasped loudly and she immediately fell back from him, barely restraining herself from screaming. It wasn't the sudden sound that terrified her, but his face. The impossible change to his face. She blinked a few times, fighting tears that were now, definitely- unquestionably- welling up out of fear. She knew she should be confused, too, but perhaps the fear was blotting anything else out.

Professor's Taisho's cheeks were stained, each side of his face baring thin, sharply elongated magenta triangles, almost like slashes and a pale blue waxing crescent moon adorned the center of his forehead. And his ears . . . were they . . . pointed? She felt the color and warmth drain from her entirely as his eyes slowly flickered open.

He instantly pulled himself to sit upright and all Kagome could do was sit, mute and confused and horrifically terrified as she stared into a pair of utterly inhuman golden eyes.

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