InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Chaos That Ensues ❯ A Silver-Haired Champion ( Chapter 1 )

Good morning and welcome to yet another start of yet another fanfiction by me! I changed the idea for this one a few times, until I was more than satisfied with what I'd come up with… But knowing me, because of course, I am me… I'll have changed the idea at least a dozen times by the time I've finished. But I hope you enjoy it all the same.

 

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In the beginning there was nothing of the world we live on; a vast wasteland to be built upon by the knowledge of the ancient Gods, each bringing a part of themselves into the perfect world they meant to create. This world was to be a gift to the Universe, a beacon of hope in an ocean so vast and full of chaos. Thus, did the Gods set themselves to the task of creation.

 

Akiratou, the Father, brought forth the three great suns to shine upon the world, enveloping it in warmth and light, shielding it from the black infinity of the chaos surrounding.

 

Sumishuru shed tears upon the world, filling the craters left by Titans with rich clear water.

 

The free spirit Nanewa gave the world pieces of her flesh; and from that flesh lush forests were born. She gave of her bones, and rough cliffs and jagged mountains were formed. She gave of the warmth and moistures of her body, so the forests and pastures of the world would never know draught or disease.

 

Koso and Torun, the lovers, from their couplings gave life to all living creatures. Fish to fill the lakes, birds to fly the skies, mammals to rove the lands… Born were the Unicorn, dragon and faerie, so the magic of this world would be kept intact. Beings never before imagined were created from the seeds of the lovers, and so were birthed in the world…

 

In the middle there was perfection; the work of the Gods thought to be a gift of wonderful things. Creation was at its best. The world was forming, filled with magic and love. But in a Universe so chaotic and destructive, there must always be balance.

 

Each world, however filled with desirable aspects, must also be filled with opposing attributes. When the Gods began the creation of the perfect world, the balance was disrupted. And from that disruption, a new God was born…

 

A new God to give birth to man… So that in the end, there was chaos.

 

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The pixie rushed through the forest, her wings tucked behind her so they wouldn't catch and tangle in the branches of the trees. On her back clung her daughter, wide-eyed, crying and afraid, held in place by an enchanted sling. The mother's arms were covering her face, protecting it from the branches as she whipped past. Deep scratches and welts forming on her earthen green skin, angry bruises forming when instead of sticking to the path, she collided with the huge girth of a tree and fell to the ground.

 

She looked over her shoulder. She could see the flames from the torches, sparking and crackling, struggling to stay lit in the fierce winds. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them. She could hear the leaves crunching under their feet and the yelling and hollering as they goaded each other to catch up.

 

She could feel the sharp metal they carried even at such a distance, prickling at all her nerves and making her vision cloud and haze. She was dizzy from the iron. There was so much of it; so capable of destroying the forest and every living creature within.

 

She had no time to stop… No time, no time…

 

When she sensed an unfamiliar aura, her head swiveled from side to side, seeking the bearer… The aura vanished and she passed it off as a figment of her weary mind…

 

`No time…' she thought hastily, purring softly to her daughter to calm her…

 

She picked herself up off the ground, darting forward as soon as her calloused feet touched the earth. She was running so fast tears started in her deep black eyes. She had no time to push them away, no time to care. She just had to get away…

 

Her arms lifted to her face, she ran for her life and the life of her child. Her golden blonde hair was whipping behind her, snagging in the rough branches so pieces of it were rooted from her scalp. It hurt, but she had to keep going…

 

It felt as though she'd been running for days, her legs aching and trembling, threatening to buckle. If her wings had grown as they should have like the rest of her people, she'd have been able to fly to the top of a high tree and stay safe there… Watch as they ran through the forest. But she couldn't fly. Nor could she shape-change as the others of her people could.

 

But if she didn't get away, she'd be maimed and tortured… Eventually she'd be killed when the sounds of a screaming innocent Pixie weren't enough entertainment for them.

 

And the life of her daughter… She might be murdered also, but more than likely she'd be brought up and raised by them and sold into a life of slavery and sexual servitude. It had happened to many of her people, and she swore she'd never allow it to happen to one of her womb even if it meant her own death.

 

She'd felt the aura again, and her legs seemed to seize on her, pushing her body to the forest floor. Pushing her arms against the soft earth, she lifted her body up, every nerve in her body on fire. When the sound of her daughter's crying ceased altogether, she raised her head and stared into amber eyes gazing down upon her figure.

 

He was tall, broad-shouldered, standing as if he owned the earth he walked on. He was armored in thick red scaled plates all across his body, the sheath of a katana hanging from his waist. She knew if he possessed a katana it must be of iron, but she could sense nothing of the disgusting metal. His eyes bore into hers, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Silver hair streaking down, blown gently along the winds.

 

He was very powerful, she sensed, a warrior through and through, all throughout his line. She should have been afraid when his race seeped through to her senses… Dog-demon. But it didn't matter, she needed help, she needed to get away. She needed to be safe with her daughter away from them.

 

“Please… Please you must help me!” He only stared down on her, curiously watching the tears sliding down her cheeks.

 

“Why?” His gaze was shifting to the flushed face of her daughter. The only recognizable shift of emotion he showed was the soft lift of his brows as he saw the head of thick black curls which was so peculiar about her. Pixies were blonde… Different tones and colors, to be sure… But always blonde.

 

“They'll kill us if they find us!” She was struggling to stand, but her legs were so sore, so exhausted from the desperate chase that she couldn't find the strength. The one that was still on… “They won't stop with Pixies… They'll kill us all!”

 

His eyes moved from the babe back to the mother. “What of her?” he asked. “She is no Pixie.”

 

“She is! She is of my blood and that of my mate.” She looked over her shoulder, the flames were drawing ever closer… She had to get up… No time, no time…

 

His eyes narrowed, and he gently sniffed the air… Truth in her words and nothing but. And yet the babe held nearly no resemblance to her mother.

 

The skin of the babe was as green as the mother, but there the similarities diminished. Eyes so light blue they appeared white, and hair the color of the blackest night. Her nails weren't dainty and well-kept, but jagged and piercing, drawing blood from her mother's shoulders. Tiny black wings protruding from the little body, where green wings should have been…

 

And he could sense almost nothing from her. He could scent her race and a rough age, but he couldn't feel anything else from her. That in itself was most peculiar, as at such young ages, races of magick began life fresh and clean with no knowledge of sense-shields. She was infinitely mysterious…

 

Deviation had never occurred in Pixies. In other races it was almost common, but Pixies were a proud race, fearful of change. To deviate from the first form would be a disgrace for the entire race, and this babe appeared to be the first.

 

“Why is she so different in appearance?” he asked when the pixie pushed herself up on wobbly legs, swaying slightly back and forth, clutching desperately at the nearest tree.

 

Her eyes closed and her breath coming in quick gasps. “We know naught. My kin have abandoned us and killed my mate for his part in her creation. They abandoned us not only for her differences but for my own faults…” She looked at him then, her black eyes full of moonlight. “Cannot fly and cannot shape-change. They say I'm not true Pixie-born… But I am… I am…”

 

His head moved to the side, his eyes boring into the depths of her being. “If you cannot do as others of your race, then what good are you?”

 

She was silent just a moment, the insult prickling at her nerves. “I was gifted with the Healing touch, know much of herb lore, birthing. I know many magicks…” When all she received from this was a cold look she rushed on. “I'm able to call forth rain, fire, purity…”

 

When the sound of the daughter's cries began again, the mother swept her head back and cried out. They were close. She tried to move, tried to run… But she couldn't, her legs wouldn't allow it, and she fell to the forest floor.

 

“Please… Help us... Can't you feel the iron?” she pleaded, momentarily forgetting he was not of her kind. “Anything you want, anything you desire, anything at all… I'll give it to you… Just please help us…”

 

He turned his head in the direction the torch-light came from, peering through the dark. “You will not question what I ask of you?” His hand reached for the hilt of his katana, resting lightly there a moment as he waited her answer.

 

“No! Just please…“

 

“You will serve me and mine?” he asked, still staring into the blackness… He could see everything, the faces of them as the sprinted through the thick foliage of the forest.

 

“Yes! I'll give a blood-oath to serve you and any of your children.”

 

A silver blur passed in front of her eyes, the shine of the blade just passing before her and she was left on the forest floor with her daughter. The demon gone, and in its place the endless screams of pain. She felt no shame or sorrow for her hand in any of their deaths. She felt no pity, no compassion… They were monsters, killing and destroying simply for the pleasure of it.

 

If they died, it meant more of the mystical creatures of their world could live and breathe.

 

She pushed herself to her knees and with trembling fingers unbuckled the sling her daughter was bound in. She brought her around to cradle her in her arms, leaning heavily against an enormous tree. She purred softly to her little girl, soothing the tears from her eyes and calming her to a quiet lull. Even with the screams all around, she managed to sooth the baby to a serene slumber, held tight against her mother's breasts.

 

Calling to the trees around her, she managed to coax some of them to give up a few of their leaves for her to create a make-shift bed for her daughter. She laid her daughter on the bed of moss and leaves and watched her as she slept; ever on the alert should one of them escape the katana of her rescuer and find her.

 

There was no need. Though it seemed as if the screaming would never end, her child continued to sleep so deeply throughout the ordeal. Even when their silver-haired champion strode calmly back towards them, the babe remained asleep.

 

His scaled armor was covered in blood, and though most of it was not his, she could sense he'd been slightly injured. She beckoned him to sit on her other side, and when he did, she removed the chest plate where his only injury was located.

 

It was a bruised, still-bleeding gash the length of her hand where one of their irons must have caught him. She hissed at it, she could still feel it burning and she could feel it dizzying her mind. Her hissing didn't alert him at all and when lifted her hand over his wound he watched her, unflinching. Within seconds the flow of blood had stopped, the wound closed and his skin was as flawless and unscarred as it must have been before.

 

He lifted his eyes to look into hers and whispered, “It would seem you will be of great value to me. Your name?”

 

“Hakira, my daughter's name is Kagome… And yours?”

 

“Taishou.” After refastening the chest plate, he stood up, his gaze moving from mother to child. “Gather up your babe. Come.”

 

Hakira did as he commanded, and stood on still-shaky legs, her daughter held tight in her arms. When he walked forward, so did she… Following her master wherever he meant to take her.

 

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Wow. So how'd you like it? Was it bad, was it good… Was it everything you'd ever hoped for? I hope so, because I'm really fond of the idea for this story. I'm not entirely sure how it's going to progress as of yet, because all the ideas are still formulating in my head. But whatever works, eh? I haven't read it over; I've been so excited just to be writing again that it's been next to impossible for me. But I'm sure I will soon. If you're confused about anything, please ask and I'll try my best to clarify any questions you have. Oh! And just to let you know, I am planning on writing the next chapter of Drama of an Online World as soon as possible. Writer's bloc has set in again and I've been grounded, so… Yeah.