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The Keeper

The sounds of the night were broken by the pounding of footsteps. Along the dark path a figure of a young woman ran clutching a small bundle protectively to her chest.

'It's close. I have to hurry!' Her was breathing was ragged as she staggered along the overgrown path. A warm sticky fluid seeped through the material of her clothing. Gritting her teeth against the pain she urged herself forward.

Behind her she could distantly hear the shouts of her pursuers. They were getting closer and her strength was weakening. Her pain filled senses caused her eyes to blur and her gait to hitch even more. The loss of blood was wreaking havoc on her sense of equilibrium, as a low branch caught a snag in her torn clothing nearly knowing her down.

Finally as if after an eternity her feet reached a break in the path and she saw it; the old shrine! She could make it she knew, she could, she had to! Readjusting the precious bundle in her arms she mustered what little strength she had left and made a dash for the entrance.

Rushing forward with a mighty cry she leapt up the stairs and kicked the ancient door open. She stumbled in coming to a stop. She bent carefully trying to catch her breath. Behind her the old door creaked back into place. Looking up she surveyed her surroundings. Leaves and various other pieces of debris scattered the ground. The ceiling was in desperate need of repair. The several holes it sported however provided the only means of light in the dark room. Rays of silver moonlight pierced through them painting the small altar in white light.

The air in the room was different, like it was charged with energy. This was definitely the right place. She could feel it. Like a deep vibration humming softly in her ears. This was sacred ground. Shaking her head she began moving towards the altar. She didn't have much time. Soon they would come and she needed to make sure the bundle in her arms would be safe.

It would be her first and last duty as keeper.

Carefully she set her charge down. Clearing a patch of debris she carefully scratched in the spell. From within her sleeve she pulled out a small dagger.

Muttering a few words she pressed the cold steel to her palm and in one swift motion cut herself. She hissed at the pain and carefully closed her fist. She squeezed gently allowing a few crimson drops to fall on the mark she had drawn.

She waited. Slowly the markings began to glow; a soft brilliant green. She turned and nearly stumbled. She pressed a trembling hand to the wound in her side. It was fatal she knew.

'I have to hurry…if they found me now I won't be able to fulfill my mission. Not like this.' Bending down she carefully scooped up the precious package and placed it on the glowing mark.Raising her arms above her head she began to chant.

The green light intensified. As its light grew so did the strength of her voice. Just as it reached its pinnacle the door of the small shrine suddenly burst open.

The leader came running in just in time to see a bright green light explode. His men in front of him cried out as the light burned their eyes. After a second it suddenly was gone.

He looked up at the altar. The girls back was to him. Her long robes were stained with crimson blood. Her long dark hair was in disarray.

"Keeper!" he growled.

"You're too late. It is done. You might have succeeded in defeating me, but I've already sent it away." The Keepers voice was low and steady. Slowly she turned to face him and his men. Her eyes burned bright with determination.

"You've lost your chance you'll never find it!"

He smiled then his lips pulling into a sneer of unimaginable cruelty. With a flick of his wrist he signaled his men to move in. Warily they approached her fanning out. "That's where you're wrong Keeper. The door will open again. And when it does we will win."

"Even when the door does open again I'll still be here and I will fight you!" She cried angrily. Her soul burned with protective energy. She crouched low taking a defensive stance.

With a cry the men attacked. Even injured she put up quite a fight. A tiger injured was still a dangerous creature.

However they still managed to overpower her. Crashing into the ground she hissed in pain as the leader stalked over to her and ground his boot into her wounded side. She grit her teeth her eyes glaring daggers at him.

"You fight us?" He ground his foot harder making her wince more. "Look at you squirming like a worm." Snarling he unsheathed his sword. With a loud cry he swung it downward and plunged the cold blade into the center of her chest.

Her mouth opened but all that came out was a guttural moan. Her body heaved upward as he withdrew his blade. Through the haze of her vision she saw him smirk and run his tongue along the length of the blade seemingly savoring the taste of her blood.

Distantly she could hear the cheers of his comrades delighting in her death. Looking down at her he drew back slightly and spit on her. Then with one last scornful look he turned away motioning for his men to do the same.

Soon she was alone with only her ragged breathing as the only sound. Above her the moon still shone brightly.

'At least…at least I get to see the full moon one last time…'

Her lungs wheezed as she painfully tried to take in air, but it was futile. She could feel her lungs filling with fluid.

Slowly, painfully she turned her head her eyes falling onto the mark she drew. It was still glowing a faint green, the remnants of her magic.

Gradually the light began to fade from her eyes, bit by bit the air stopped moving past her lips, her heart skipped a beat, and then stopped altogether.

She had one last thought as she died.

'You are safe; where you go your Keeper will follow…'

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Tokyo – the 12th year of Meiji

"Yahiko!!! You little brat get back here!!" one very pissed off Kamiya Kaoru bellowed. She turned a bend bokken at the ready. Her eyes were blazing as she caught sight of her errant apprentice.

"Don't call me a brat ugly!!" Yahiko stuck his tongue out from across the courtyard.

"Don't call me UGLY!!" Kaoru charged forward ready to beat the boy into submission. She raced by an amused Kenshin doing the laundry.

"Yare, yare…" Kenshin muttered under his breath as he watched Kaoru chase Yahiko around.

The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the birds were chirping a happy melody. All in all it was a typical day at the dojo. A resounding thud suddenly reached Kenshin's ears from across the courtyard.

He watched as Kaoru dragged behind her an unconscious and swirly eyed Yahiko.

Smiling to himself he turned back to the laundry.

Yup it was a typical day.

TBC…

AN: This is an idea I've been wanting to see come to life. For once it's NOT horror! Gasp! So anyways Please tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading.