disclaimer- I own nothing so don't come hounding me with your lawyers and briefcases!

~ A homeless warrior. An arrogant Prince. A forgotten power. And the battle they must fight together to win. But will they learn to get along before they kill each other in the process?

Forgotten Power

Prologue: What lies ahead?

She scowled at the fruit on her plate and the glass of orange juice in her hand.

The fruit looked moldy; the apple that lay precariously on her plate had huge chunks of grey fuzz on it, and the orange juice looked like something someone had just thrown up because they were out of oranges. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the putrid smell, and she pushed the plate away before standing up, pushing the chair back with a gloved hand, and walking up the rickety old steps of this pathetic excuse for an inn.

Once at the door, she turned the knob and pushed -the door almost toppling off its hinges- and walked over to the straw bed that sat in the corner, where her belongings also lay. Picking up her sword, she strapped it to her belt, grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows, slung a sack full of meager amounts of food and clothing over her shoulder, and strode out the door, down the hall and out the building. The clang of her armor could be heard through the silent night as her worn black boots pounded against the dirt road, her chocolate brown eyes dancing around with both solemn yet good natured contentment. Whistling an old tune, she walked down the road, her black hair waving like a banner in the slight breeze.

It had always been like this for her. Walking down these dirt paths were just as much a home to her, as a peasant's hand-made hut felt like to his family. She was always on the move, never staying at one place for long, yet it never bothered her that she would never have a shelter to come back to after her journeys. The stars in the sky were the roof over her head, and the soft green grass was the bed she slept on at night. Of course, every once in a while, she slept at an inn or a resident hut that was open to her, but it never had felt as refreshing as feeling the cool breeze flow across your face and through your hair as you sit up to watch the rise of the early sun.  

 Eyes darted around the dusty roads as she passed men resting by the side of the path, swords and spears at there sides, sleeping soundlessly till the next day would come and they would continue there journey towards where ever there destinations lay.

She herself was going to the castle.

Though the land was controlled by the ruling youkai, the Inu youkai family Hokori, many humans still lived the land, working its miracles and growing its wonders. Though many youkai were strong, far superior to the normal average human, she was a warrior without limits, equal in strength, cunning, and wit to the aforementioned, and she would not stand by idly as both the countries of Hokori and Higarashi battled as allies against the neighboring powerful country of Warui. Even though she was a woman, she would not let something as stupid and pathetic as gender, or race for that matter, get in her way of what she hoped to achieve. And that was an end to the Warui and she knew many wished the same.

She just hoped she would not be recognized as a female before she could prove herself worthy to fight in such important times. Her lips quirked as she stared at her attire. She at least looked the part.

She was not tall, but average height, about five feet six inches, with long black hair that fell half way to her back in a horse tail. Dressed in a simple shirt and breeches, the shirt a creamy dirty white, the breeches a worn tan hide, she also wore a corset over her bosom, nondistinguishable through the light shoulder and chest armor pads. At her waist a black belt hung loosely, a sword and a dagger strapped at the hilt, and on her feet were worn out old boots. A black hooded cloak strapped together to her armor, covering her body, and a quiver of arrows dangled across her back next to the well-worn bamboo bow she had slung over her shoulder previously.

Smiling at her thought-over disguise, she stared up into the night sky, her black hair whipping around her form in a torrent of glossy strands.

I hope I can do something for this country she thought, her hand instinctively reaching up to clasp the jeweled pendent that hung by a leather thong around her neck.

I want to help.

Kagome paused, her eyes following the road down its twisting path towards the gleaming speck of grey that sat proudly in the night sky. The castle.

And I want to know what lies there for me. I know something does.

Her gaze turned back to her pendent, her normally optimistic expression clouded with a stern look.

But…is it for the good….or the bad?    

~

High up in the stone columns of the castle, a lone figure stood, his silver hair rustling to the winds silent song, as his amber gaze watched the ever-winding road curl up and over the lands of his father. His brows furrowed slightly as the breeze washed over him, carrying a scent too familiar for comfort. He turned to look up at the sky.

What awaits me tomorrow?

Is it for the good….or the bad?

~

This is the prologue. What'cha think? Please review! If this is really that bad then I'll know how bad I am at writing. Also, I was thinking of putting the rest of the story in Kagome's perspective. Should I write it the way I'm writing it now, or should I write in someones perspective? please review and tell me.

~Pyroe