Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi

Ok, this will (without a doubt) be the strangest fanfiction you've ever read. It's an Inuyasha/Twilight crossover. I have been using the TV show as a base since my teens to practice my writing here, especially novelizing, and since I'm doing all this work I figured why not post and get feedback?

I've improved vastly over the years working on this project, but I still have much to learn and will continue to practice my writing here! I take no credit for the storyline (several small additions/edits are mine, but the vast majority is integral TV show), only the work I've done in bringing it from screen to paper. Don't like, don't read, but I would like some feedback, please!

FULL SUMMARY: Bella Swan, your average year 11 student, is suddenly pulled into an ancient well on her family's historic property by a demon, dragging her 600 years in the past to 15th century England. There she meets Edward, a bizarre creature not entirely human who seeks something called the Sacred Jewel to grant his wish. With Edward and new friends, Bella's search for the Jewel of Four Souls begins…

Adventure and romance, demons and fantasy—come enter the exciting world of The Feudal Fairytale!

Prologue

The forest was loud with life this noontide. Birds screeched and whistled in the thick coverage the trees provided them, insects chirped, and the plants and bushes on the ground rustled with the light breeze. The midday sun, seldom terribly bright, was almost blinding in the clear blue sky beyond the forest. In the dense trees, however, it was nearly dark. For this reason, most people of this tiny riverside village avoided the woods. It was thought to be a breeding ground for the supernatural, the unholy, and the evil. Anything that emerged from this dark void was treated with suspicion, if not open hostility.

Out of this gloom, a pair of piercing golden eyes surveyed the scene, bright and alert for danger. They were the eyes of a survivor and nothing more. They knew nothing of love or happiness, only of betrayal and suffering. And yet, on this noon, as they peered from the top of a tall tree to the village in the valley below, there was something new in their expression: hope.

The figure gracefully leapt off the branch and hit the ground running at a speed completely inhuman, almost too fast for the eye to see. Only the red blur of its clothes could be made out as it nimbly danced around the trunks of immense trees, headed away from the village. Any who might have seen it would have breathed a sigh of relief at the narrowly missed encounter.

This mysterious red demon seemed to be headed for the "Sacred Tree," as it was known. The immense, towering oak was the largest of the forest by scores and thought to be the mother of all trees in the region. One of the only destinations in the entire wood that the village people would visit, it was considered to be a holy spot that transcended the natural world into the spiritual, and that those voices that prayed to it were heard by God Himself. The priestess of the village, a devout woman called Tanya, protected this relic and the village itself from those who would desecrate it with their evil. Having been touched by an angel, or so most thought, Tanya had immense spiritual power and could easily purify demons to their deaths. Few dared challenge her anymore.

But this red youth seemed determined to do so. As it raced through the wood, indubitably headed for the Sacred Tree, an enraged cry rent the still air. The figure froze in the blink of an eye; all the momentum from its run lost in an instant, it looked for the source of the sound with agitated golden eyes.

Now that it was still, it could be seen that the mysterious figure was a young man. No, not a man. A demon. His rust-coloured hair, golden eyes, and slit pupils attested to that. He wore a simple red tunic over a pair of red hose. Were one to be watching, one would see that even the demon's clothes seemed bewitched: the holes and frayed stitches from fabric caught on branches during his run were already knitting themselves back together. His feet were bare, another sign of his evil. He felt no pain on the act of running through a dense wood.

He seemed to have caught sight of who had let out this cry, but it was almost too late. As he turned with eyes gleaming with fresh betrayal and hatred to greet his attacker, three arrows fired simultaneously impaled themselves in the tree not one hand-span from his chest.

"Die, Edward!" the unknown female voice screamed, and another volley of arrows was released as the evil being fled. Hiding behind a nearby tree, two more arrows already nocked and ready to be released, was a beautiful woman with quite an ugly, enraged expression twisting her features. She wore a long, elegant dress of white with sleeves that belled out at the elbow like a lily, but most telling was the large, ornate cross made of brass tied at her neck. The village protector and priestess, Tanya.

Once more on the run, the demon's confusion, agitation, and anger seemed to increase his unholy speed all the more. He darted from tree to tree, bush to bush, in an aimless dance meant only to organize his thoughts. Within moments, he seemed to come to a decision, and redirected his course for a new target: the village.

He burst out of the treeline like an avenging devil, sharp teeth bared in a baleful snarl, golden eyes cold to any screams of fear. The villagers saw him coming, the warning bell was struck, and chaos ensued.

"It's Edward!"

"Run for your lives!"

"Where is Lady Tanya?!"

"Men! To the square! Defend our homes!"

The women and children fled the dirt roads into their huts; the men took up their "arms" (pitiful spikes and spades from their farms), and sought to expel the creature.

The village's sole defensive measure barring Tanya herself—a net that hung hidden behind the welcoming arch on the village's main road—was released and ballooned to the ground, weighted by stones. It detained the demon for but a moment, before the gleam of claws caught the light and the net fell, useless, in the dirt.

The red demon laughed at their vain efforts and fearful cries as he advanced. However, surprisingly, he did not charge any of the peasants. He leapt with stunning agility to the roof of a nearby house and merely ran, jumping from roof to thatched roof, until he reached the village's one and only grand residence: the newly laid stone steps leading up a hill to the large wooden church. The red blur flew up the steps and disappeared to the villager's views. The men gave heated chase.

In the church, the red-clad demon immediately lifted the neckline of his tunic and covered his nose and mouth, golden eyes suspicious and wary as they examined the dark room before him. Two straight lines of burning incense marked the path to the centre of the far room, where a pedestal stood, bearing the village's treasure. This was the demon's true purpose, it seemed.

The incense was irritating to the demon's sensitive nose, but he ignored it and strode forward, snatching up the prize: a pearl-like gemstone about the size of a quail's egg and incandescent with spiritual purity, strung on a frightful necklace with other shells and stones meant to ward off evil. Snorting derisively at the futility, the demon nicked the entire necklace away from its stand.

With a loud crashing and screaming, the group of village men finally caught up to the demon. Startled by the loud noise, he had shrunk down, crouching defensively low to the ground in surprise. Now he pushed himself with such strength that he burst through the roof, leaving a mess of the brick, wood, and thatch behind as he fled.

Hopping gracefully from roof to tree, and tree to tree, the demon congratulated himself aloud on this new conquest. "Finally! A way to grant my wish and become all demon at last!"

He hit the last stone step and flung himself into the wood, heading back to the centre and on his way to whatever nefarious place he called home. But he was now being pursued by the Lady Tanya herself, and the villagers followed closely, eager to see the monster put down for the trouble he had caused.

Reaching the glen that housed the Sacred Tree with relative ease, the demon catapulted himself, pushing off a fallen rotting tree trunk into the air, aiming for the protective high branches.

He didn't make it that far.

With an infuriated cry of his name, if such a being could have a true name, Lady Tanya fired a single arrow from across the glen, and nailed the demon in the chest, right in his heart. Even better, the villagers noted as they huffed and puffed their way to catch up, the arrow had so completely impaled him that it had gone somewhat through his chest, and had affixed him to the tree behind. Saddened at having lost their Sacred Tree to such an impure being but relieved to know that he had been beaten, the villagers immediately focused their attention on the church maiden.

The momentum of the strike had forced the jewelled necklace to fall from the demon's hand as he was propelled back into the tree. Lady Tanya stooped to retrieve it.

Still alive but weakening, the demon addressed the church maiden. She met his gaze levelly, a cool but firm hatred glowing in her brown eyes, as he hissed in pain and naked betrayal, "Tanya? How could—? I thought—"

His strength dwindled, and the unholy golden eyes slid closed. His hand, outstretched to Tanya in some sort of unspoken plea for his pathetic life, dropped limply to his side. The demon was dead. A cheer went up through the crowd.

"Sister—Tanya!" a child's voice screamed. A little girl of perhaps nine or ten summers burst through the crowd, rushing to the crouched priestess. Only then did the villagers notice the extent of her injuries.

"Irina," Lady Tanya murmured in relief, seeing the child at her side. She still knelt to the ground, seemingly unable to rise once more. Beneath her rough-hewn sandals, a pool of blood was beginning to form from the injury on her right shoulder. A large, jagged cut in her dress indicated that it was a deep wound, and the enormous, dark red stain that continued to spread and dominate her beautiful white dress spoke of her limited time left on this earth.

"Lady Tanya!" one of the men cried. "Let us go back to the village—let someone tend your wounds!"

"Who did this to you?" the child pressed, tears streaming from her one good eye. The other was covered by a rough cloth bandage, through which stains of red could be seen. Her plain yellow dress was dirty and torn, but she cared for nothing but her elder sister, who beside her was ready to die.

"It matters not," Lady Tanya responded. "My own weak heart has caused this, and the blame is to be laid solely at my feet." She lifted the Jewel, still clutched in her hand, to her blurry eyes, which narrowed in hatred and bitterness. "And all for this," she spat weakly, swaying on her knees. Crying out in a sudden spasm of pain, the priestess folded in on herself, her left hand hovering over her wound but daring not to touch it.

"Sister, let someone help you!" the little girl begged.

"I am beyond saving."

Gasps were torn from the mouths of all the village men surrounding, and the sound of more than one makeshift weapon hitting the ground as shocked fingers released their hold was heard. Lady Tanya couldn't leave them! How would they survive? With this festering breeding ground of all that was evil surrounding their homes, who would protect them from the demons sure to emerge?

"Listen to me, Irina," the priestess in question commanded, her voice coming in gasps now as she struggled to find her breath. She held out the Jewel to the little girl. "Take this… and see that it is burned with my body."

Another round of cries went up from the onlookers, protesting this atrocity. The bodies of holy and loved ones were meant to be preserved, buried intact on hallowed ground so that the soul could ascend to its rightful place in Heaven. Bodies burned were those of sinners and demons! Lady Tanya could not be in her right mind.

"Listen to me!" Lady Tanya screamed, her last vestiges of strength used to create that call. The crowd was immediately silenced. "This Jewel cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of a demon—ever! It must be destroyed. Promise me you will do this!"

Reluctantly, her younger sister nodded, sobbing in earnest. Satisfied, Lady Tanya nodded. "I shall take it with me to the netherworld."

The netherworld? Hell? Why would a good and pure woman like Tanya go to Hell? The murmurs of the confused villagers halted once more as the distraught priestess, nearly crazed with pain, blinked rapidly as though trying to clear her vision before closing her eyes forever. Her body collapsed limply before anyone could catch her. The anguished screams of her little sister were the last things she heard.

Despite their misgivings, the priestess Lady Tanya's last wish was carried out. Her body was burned with the strange jewel necklace none of them truly understood, but her ashes were buried before the church atop the hill, a final resting place for everyone to mourn and remember her.