This story takes place in the time interval between when Clare fights her first awakened being and when she meets Ophelia within the Claymore Anime series.
Chapter One
An Unexpected Compromise
"Damn, I hate this wind." The boy had been having a really bad day. First, he got lost. His travelling companion got too far ahead. She found him back, and in an attempt at a shortcut, they tried to cross a river by way of stepping stones. The boy had actually been enjoying his day so far. He had a good breakfast of wild hen eggs and sausage leftover from a successful deer hunt last week, and a nice, leisurely walk through the gigantic conifers that signify this mountainous region.
He couldn't have been much more than sixteen. He had a pleasant face, with a scar over his left temple, and he was simply dressed. A white undershirt, covered by a grey over shirt, banded with leather at the shoulders and neck. He also wore leather shoes, wrist bands and belt. His knee high sock had completed the ensemble. Now all he had were his damp undergarments.
He also had a large sheathed sword set by the river. He wasn't worried about it though. It was high grade steel, and not prone to rust.
That damn wind had caught him on the rocks, and threw him into the water. "Damn, mountain water's cold. Wind only makes it feel worse." A few more minutes of venting, and his closes were dry and his mood was lifted. "At least it's good for something. Dried twice as fast as I expected." The kid liked the mountains, generally. Clean air, great view and a chorus of animal noises unique to those in the flatlands.
Just then, with his attention distracted, the wind picked up to hurricane proportions, sweeping his freshly dried shirt over a stand of thick bushes. He was really starting to lose his taste for the mountains.
"Damn it. No luck at all today." The boy chased after his runaway shirt. It was his only one after all. It was a bit of a struggle through the shrubbery. It looked like it had a few good berries on it. He'd have to remember that for later. Some of the branches were sharp, leaving red scratches across his sides. This wasn't important though. He'd had a rough life, so this was nothing.
He finally managed to push himself through the shrubbery, overbalancing and tumbling headfirst into the ground. He looked up and he was entangled in the limbs, bag and walking stick of a middle aged man.
The man was dressed very oddly. He wore a white silk shirt and pants, elegantly stitched at the seams so as to appear fluffy. His belt, along with his knee length vest was forests green. The vest was open fronted, high collared, and oddly cut at the bottom, with six tails extending from it, reminding the boy of a folded bat wing. All of it was now, unfortunately, dirtied in the fall by the dry soil.
He had a kind face, worn by the elements over the course of a long life. His hair was steel grey, and still thick, despite the large bald spots extending back from above his eyes. More than anything, the boy was drawn to the man's eyes. Bright blue, and as clear as the river from which the boy had dragged himself not long before.
"Hello." Said the man. "Fancy running into a boy like you in a place like this. Is that where this came from?" the man brandished the boy's shirt, just as dusty as the both of them. The boy nodded. "Alright then. Let's get ourselves cleaned up. I have a fire burning a little ways deeper in."
The boy collected his effects from the riverside, and returned. Less than a minute from where the two ran into each other, the two entered a clearing, surrounded by massive trees. In the middle was a boar, gutted and spitted, roasting over a small fire, just large enough to keep the meat warm.
A stump was set up as a seat for the man, and another was salvaged from a firewood stack for the boy. It was nearing nightfall, but it was still a little ways off.
"Now that we're settled in and dusted off, what's your name?" asked the old man.
"Raki." The boy smiled and extended his hand, and the old man took it firmly and shook it.
"A pleasure to meet you Raki. My name's Yura." The old man released Raki's hand and took a seat by the fire. "Now, what's a young man like you doing alone, so far away from civilization?"
"Travelling," said Raki. "And I'm not alone. I'm travelling with a friend. She was supposed to meet up with me after my clothes dried."
"Ah. Another victim of the river. I had the same problem yesterday, a few miles down stream. Treacherous banks and nasty winds this time of year exacerbating the problem. Now, would you like some of my pig? I had just taken care of some…private business when you ran into me, and after that, I planned on settling down for a meal."
"Sure. It smells great."
Pulling a large knife from his bag, which had been with the campsite when they arrived, Yura cut a large chunk of meat off for Raki, and a smaller one for himself, setting the knife aside a moment later. "I'm headed to the next town. What are you doing out here Yura?"
"I too am travelling. I work at several mobile trades, my favourite of which is a travelling chef. I specialize in meats, everything from venison to reptile. What do you think of my latest work? Its crude, but I didn't bring a large selection of sauces or herbs to work with."
Raki swallowed a large chunk, and balked in surprise. "It's delicious! I've never had anything like it. A little rare for me, but still, the seasoning is incredible. I'm a cook too. Could you tell me your secret?"
Yura closed his eyes, put his hand to his face, laughing with delight. "A few select spices, and a lifetime of practice. I'm glad you appreciate it. As for the rarity of the meat, this is my preference. I would have cooked it more if I'd been expecting to share my meal."
"No worries. It's great. I should save some for Clare. I'm sure she'd like it."
Faster than Raki could watch, Yura spun in his seat just as a silver flash whizzed by his head.
Yuma now faced Raki with only his left side, and he now had the blade of a large combat knife grasped between his fingers. Never once opening his eyes, the jovial smile fading to one of sombre regret, he said "Let me hazard a guess. This friend of yours, Clare. She's about six feet tall, blonde, wears a white suit and cape with shoulder armour. Silver eyes, am I right?"
"Yes what-?"
"I was afraid of that."
A feminine voice gently seeping with malice called out from the woods. "Step away from him." A young woman stepped from the forest. Just as Yura had described, she was beautiful. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and silver eyes. From about the waist up, she was dressed in a white, skin-tight suit, cutting off just below shoulder level.
Going halfway down her thighs was a metal plated skirt. On her shoulders were steel palindromes, connected by another plate of metal. The arms beneath were bare but for the bracers on the wrists, and her neck was covered by a strip of black cloth, with a fork-like insignia emblazoned upon it. From behind the armour hung a small white cape and a sword holster, the holster was now empty as the massive sword was in her hands.
Raki could do little more than stare in shock. What had Yura done? "Why? What's wro-"
"He's a Yoma."
"What. Yoma? He can't be…"
"I can sense his Yoki, faint though it may be. There is no mistake."
Yura slowly began to stand up, calmly and deliberately, shifting his grip on the knife so he held the hilt. "I suppose I am to blame for this. I can normally suppress my Yoki better than that. I have passed your kind in the street before, never drawing a glance. I suppose I let my guard down while conversing with your young companion."
Yura heaved a massive sigh. "Can't be helped now I suppose. I will tell you as I told those few to have previously discovered me. I am no threat to you. Not that you'll listen."
"No I will not. Pleading for your life won't save you." Clare remained cold as ice. Never blinking, never looking away from the creature before her that wore a human skin. "If you need to feed away from the homes of men, where none can threaten you, then you will be no threat to me."
"You are rather cocky, unless I've greatly missed my guess. But what I intended to convey was that there could be a peaceful resolution to this. I am no threat to any man, woman or child. I am innocent of any of the affronts that you target my kind for."
"No Yoma is innocent. And they all have a tendency to lie." Seeing that Raki had retreated to the tree line, Clare attacked. Her first strike was aimed at the Yoma's head. By the time the blade cleared the distance, the head of the demon in a man's skin was not there. He was fast. At least as fast as her.
"I had to kill the last two members of your order that came after me. They left me little choice. I can't suppose that you will respond any differently, can I?" How did he get behind her? She turned to face him. His eyes were now bright gold, with slits for pupils. Teeth all sharpened into fangs before her eyes and some of the skin on his face took on a grey complexion. Ears pointed and elongated, fingernails became claws. With a sigh, he said "If you've no interest in discussion, can we get this over with quickly please, before my meat gets overdone?"
Clair struck again, a cross-body slash. The crash was deafening as the Yoma deflected her sword with the knife that had been thrown at it. The sword blade was sunk a full foot into the ground from the force of the strike. The broken knife blade lay beside it, broken by the clash. The Yoma had only managed to save itself by a margin of inches.
"My turn now." The Yoma struck fast, jabbing the hilt of the dagger into Clare's stomach. She flew through the air, landing a dozen feet from where she began.
By the time she got her bearings, it was already behind her. She twisted fast, swiping downwards. The blade stopped short, caught between two clawed hands.
Clare pushed harder, but couldn't force the blade into the beast's skull. She finally made the choice to release the Yoma power buried inside her. Her muscles swelled, teeth sharpened to fangs, eyes turned from silver to the gold colour like those of the beast against which she struggled. Her blade began to inch closer to the head of her adversary.
When the edge of the sword was only an inch from its head, the Yoma's power exploded. It grew a full foot in height. Now holding her blade in only one hand, a trickle of purple blood running down it, it wrenched the sword aside and punched Clare hard in the chest with a closed fist. A cough of blood escaped her lips.
She flew fast and far, impacting the trunk of one of the trees that ringed the clearing. Again appearing from behind, the Yoma grabbed Clare by her head, and smashed it against the ground. "This is your last chance." It looked more like a man again. It whispered softly and calmly in her ear. "Walk away."
"LET HER GO!" Raki yelled as he ran at the Yoma, his sword held high. Though not nearly so large as Clare's it was still an impressive blade. The Yoma brushed it aside as if it were a mere stick, and knocked Raki a short ways back onto the ground with a kick. His head thumped firmly into the soil.
This gave Clare the chance she needed. Grabbing the broken blade of her knife, she pushed against the ground, and fell back down, creating enough space between her and the creature to jab the broken blade through the clothing that still covered it, and into its gut.
It sprang back in surprise. The two adversaries squared off again. Clare took up her sword. She was getting tired. Was there no way to beat this creature? And for the first time ever, she questioned, just for a moment if she should. It had several chances to kill her, so why didn't it?
Her resolve quickly hardened. Her only hope was to catch it off guard, and given this creature's strength and speed, she could think of only one viable way. Gripping the hilt of her sword tightly, she drew on as much of her Yoma power as she dared, and launched her sword, end over end, straight for the Yoma's heart.
Shocked, the creature barley managed to intercept it in time. The twirling blade sheared down its arm, taking a substantial amount of flesh with it. The blade continued on, imbedding itself deep in the trunk of a large, tall tree growing on the inside of the clearing.
As this transpired, Raki was just recovering from the blow dealt him by the Yoma. He was barley aware as the tree cracked from the split, and began to fall towards him. Injured, disoriented and frozen in fear, he couldn't move.
"Raki! Move! Run, now!" Clare showed emotion for the first time in this battle. She was afraid for the life of her companion and friend. But what could she do?
Claws extending, muscles flaring, the Yoma dashed forward. Clare froze. It headed away from her, and towards Raki.
More than three feet across, the Yoma just barley managed to catch the tree in time. I changed more and more, skin greying, shape expanding. The creature was using as much power as it could muster to stop that tree.
"So what now, mi lady?" it asked, heels sliding in the soil as the tree pressed down on it. "If you want to kill me, you'll never have a better chance than now. But I can't hold this up forever. Make your choice."
Finally decided, Clare dashed forward, wrenching the sword from the tree ,and struck. The Yoma winced in anticipation of the blow. It suddenly felt the weight of the tree lift off its shoulders. It opened its eyes, and saw that the tree had been cut, well above where he held it. The bulk of the tree fell well forward of the trio. The Yoma now easily hoisted what remained of the tree and tossed it to the side.
"Thank you for the assistance," he said, fully resuming his human guise. "I would have truly regretted the death of this child. He needn't have been involved in this. Is he alright, by the way?"
"I didn't do it for you. And he will be fine once his head clears." Clare lifted Raki to his feet, and still seeming hazy, but better that he had a minute ago, he walked as fast as he could over to the side of the battlefield, holding his head and absent mindedly grabbing his sword on the way.
"That's good. And I know you didn't intervene on my behalf. Now, shall we continue where we left off, or as would be my preference, we could share my meal, and we can discuss the predicament in which we find ourselves. Afterwards, we can still resume our battle." Clare noticed that the wounds on the body of the Yoma were already healed.
"I believe that just this once, I will give you the benefit of the doubt, as payment for saving Raki. As Yoma don't truly have names, what may I call you?"
"You may call me Yura."
