All sound had gone from the plane with any sense of time she could fathom. Smoke hazed up above the armies on either side of the valley, blurring out all the warriors' faces and leaving her unsure of whether or not she should be looking north or south with her last breath. She watched them closely, though the smoke seared her eyes, looking for her brothers on either side. She felt smaller than a breath under the hordes of demons that bore down on her. Turning again toward the old witch—a more haggard creature than she could imagine—she sneered. The witch frowned and spat, "This isn't you're only choice, wench. They can still fight for you."
The witch arched her withered hand over to one of the armies, clearing the smoke for the briefest of moments so that her brothers could be seen, fierce and noble in their rich and colorful robes. Their attention was pointed away and down at the other end of the valley.
"I—I don't know," she stuttered. Of course, she didn't want her brothers to fight or even die. She didn't want any bloodshed over such a stupid quarrel. But the thought of returning back into those cold, bitter dreams that had already held her for so long was unbearable.
"They're getting restless," the witch crooned. And they were. Both armies had started to sway with impatience and anticipation. "What's it going to be?"
"I didn't want any of this," she whispered, looking up at where her brothers had been. "I didn't want any of this at all. It wasn't my choice! I wanted nothing to do with Sesshomaru when I found out he was—when I learned we couldn't be together."
"Well, fat lot of good that did you," the witch replied, "We're here and you've gotta make the choice: bloodshed for family, destruction to your home and everything you love—or a nice, little forever with me."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Oh, it isn't that bad, sweetheart," the witch murmured, sounding almost delicate, "You'll have me for the rest of forever to keep you company." She belted out a heinous laugh that sent the horse on either side of the valley into a tizzy.
"But, I didn't want this—I was good. I tried to leave," she pleaded.
"But you didn't, did you? You tried to leave, but that pretty face of his kept you aching and wishing and hoping for him, didn't it? And soon enough, you ran right back to him. Yes, sweetheart, you tried to leave, but you didn't stay away. This was your choice—you may not have wanted it, but it's yours so own it and make up your mind."
"Sessho—" she began, grasping at her dress as she failed to will the tears away.
"Oh, enough of that," the witch boomed, "He isn't here! Look around? Do you see that long, silk hair or those moon-bright eyes? I don't! And now you see: you should just pop this tasty potion and be away with me. That way, all your problems will be solved. You'll have a safe and sound family and nothing to trouble you in the world. Maybe I'll even let one of my gargoyles dress up like your sweet love sometime and we can all have a tea party!"
She frowned at the salt that ran down her face. The witch was right—trapped with her was torture, but it was better than death to all that she loved. And Sesshomaru wasn't there to save her like he had pledged a thousand times. With a halting breath, she nodded uncertainly and reached out her hand to take the crystal bottle from the witch's wrinkled palm. She swirled it and watched the pink and blue liquid dance and bubble. She tied to remember how it had tasted the first time so long ago when the only thing that stained her mind was the threat of being too happy. Gripping the cold glass tighter between her fingers, she uncorked it, looked around once more in vain for her savior, and pressed the opening to her lips.