A/N: I am procrastinating on all my other stories by starting this new one, but I felt like it needed to be done. I probably won't update this one anytime soon either, because I'm a horrible author like that. X| I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LAZINESS, EVERYONE T_T If I get enough reviews, I might be motivated to update, however... ...ENJOY
Chapter 1: The Snake
Lavender. It always smelled like lavender.
"Waka."
Oppressive. Lavender was such an oppressive smell.
He smiled. It was called for. "Yes, Majeste."
Why was such a large room so heavy? The warmth of the air hung over his head like a woolen cloak in the summertime, draping over his shoulders and dragging him down, no matter how hard he tried to stand straight. He swore the reason he was so short was because he spent so much time in this room.
"I have a request for you, Waka," she said. A request. As if it was a choice. Don't be so hard on her, he chastised himself. Choices are privileged these days, even for the royal.
She straightened herself in her throne. It was a beautiful piece—intricately designed—carved out of the moon's most precious metal and seared along the patterned rivulets with a sparkling blue light. What a lucky woman, to be the fifth Moon Princess to reign in that chair. He watched her fingering the hem of her sleeve. Surely she couldn't be comfortable in all those clothes, especially not in this wretched, wretched warmth.
"I need you to go to the Celestial Plain."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. What an odd request for the Princess of the Moon Tribe to ask of her servant.
"Waka," she said, sighing. "You are my most trusted advisor, and the only one who has remained impartial in this whole affair about the demon gods. You are the only one I can ask for such a mission."
Ah, the only one. It was not a choice.
"Surely Genkai is a much better candidate than I—"
"Genkai is an extremist," she said, cutting him off. "He is brilliant, yes, but so are you. Don't say a word, Ushiwaka, you are brilliant in your own way, and Genkai is brilliant in his. He also is very strong in his opinions, and you are…how shall I say it—?"
"Indifferent?"
"Unbiased," she corrected. He saw no difference whether she used the euphemism or not. "What I need now is not controversy, which will undoubtedly happen if I send in Genkai, but peaceful observation. I want you to serve as an ambassador of sorts. I want you to observe the Celestials on the heavenly plain and tell me how they live with their gods. Be friendly with them. I want you to observe their reactions to you, and make sure you leave a good impression."
"Princesse, surely you are not thinking of moving us onto the Celestial Plain, are you?"
She did not sigh. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes—a pained expression on her flawless face. "I will do whatever must be done to escape this mess. The demon gods have been raging for some time now. It is not long before they break through their chains and wreck havoc on the Moon. But even by then, we may have already destroyed ourselves with this war." She was gazing to the side, as if she could see through the walls and into the city of her people. He had no doubt she could. "This mission is of upmost importance to me, Waka. I will decide my stance when I hear of your findings. Go now," she said, waving him away. "And be discrete."
Waka gave a swift bow. "Yes, Majeste."
He fled the room as quickly as possible, the scent of lavender billowing in the air behind him as he left. The Princess shouldn't keep herself cooped up in that room all day. Oppression like that could get to one's head. He was surprised she hadn't gone insane yet.
Waka stepped out of the palace and into the gardens of the aristocratic quarters. It was a beautiful place, to be sure. Stalks of bamboo shooting up like trees—smaller, more delicate bamboo stalks twisted, twined, and curled into appealing sculptures. The pale ground glowing softly underneath his bright red geta. The sky ever its sea of dark blue.
The Celestial Plain. His breath caught in his throat as he thought those words. As far as he knew, none of the Moon Tribe dared step foot on that sanctified ground. Many long years ago—so long that no one living today could even remember—his tribe had been banished to the moon, cursed to live forever alongside the great and terrible demon gods that resided there.
A slight smile crossed his lips. He would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.
"Curse you, Majeste," he said cheerfully, looking up at the sky. "And I was prepared to hate whatever ridiculous assignment you had meant for me."
Something white flashed behind his eyes, and he was no longer staring at the sky. As quick as it had come, it disappeared, and he stood in the same position as he had been when it started, not in the least disoriented. He grew accustomed to handling these visions. One must when such gifts were frowned upon.
Even so, he was unsettled by what he saw. Surely fate couldn't be telling him to take that…? He shook his head. No. It must have been a mistake. But the vision gave him an idea, and with the particulars already blurring in his mind he twiddled with his flute, feeling the reassuring weight of it in his hand.
"Well," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Let's get started, shall we?"
[xx]
It had been a long time since Waka had come to the junkyard. He didn't need to. He was not an engineer.
There was no wind on the moon, which made the barren wasteland of dust and scrap metal all the more eerie. He had come here once as a child. All moon children did. This place, with its vast stretch of emptiness filled only by the husks of decaying genius, rotten dreams, and lost hopes, was endlessly enshrouded in shadow. It was the one piece of moon that never showed its face to earth, was never touched by the light of the sun. And it was here, chained deep in the heart of empty ships and under rubble, where the demon gods lived.
Waka was aware of a steady, poisonous hissing that hung over the wasteland as if it were part of the air itself. He smiled.
"Out of luck again today, big boy," he murmured. "No one here will free you."
The hissing remained, lower and more poisonous than before, as Waka picked his way through the junkyard in search of something, anything, to ride to the Celestial Realm—anything but that.
[xx]
Chains. Clinking, clattering, gnashing chains. A young Waka heard them and did not tremble with fear. His mother was not afraid, and neither should he be.
"Ushiwaka," she said, letting go of his hand as they came to the corridor. "Look and feel." She left him with the warden, who ushered him into the room with the chains, growing louder and louder as they approached whatever was inside. The inside of the ark glowed with a soft red-orange, the color of the lunar eclipse. The color of unpredictable power. Heavy, black chains hung taut from every side of the room, shaking and clanging as Waka's eyes fell upon a giant snake spitting and twisting with rage. Eight gruesome coils of neck lashed out in fury, every head adorned with a different crown. A giant, golden bell hung over the main body of the beast, glinting maliciously in the red light. A head lashed out just above them, and the armored warden recoiled defensively. The young Waka merely watched with a strange indifference in his eyes. The snake did not acknowledge their presence—it was far too absorbed in its agony and anger to notice anything else.
Feel? Waka wondered as he stared up at the giant beast. What should I feel? There was no terror, no awe, no pity, no hatred. He felt nothing except cold unfeeling, which couldn't be considered a feeling at all. He gazed, unflinching, at the massive snake as it raged and writhed in its black iron chains. Indifference. Pity, maybe? Pity that a beast so strong and mighty should become so lost in its fury that it can think of nothing else. Nothing.
The demon god's warden steered him back out of the room. The beast's roars lingered in his ears. He did not tell his mother what he felt. She did not ask. She took him by the hand and they walked away from the chains and the imprisoning ship, but he never forgot about the demon god. That visit was a warning, a reminder, of the power that never truly slept on the moon. Moon children went to bed remembering that this was their curse, and in their dreams Orochi whispered in their ear that he was always there, waiting. Even the best chains wrought by a moon craftsman can't hope to hold against time and fate.
[xx]
The hissing grew to a buzz, but Waka didn't hear it anymore. Why fate had chosen this particular ship, he did not know. It was not his place to question the ways of the universe.
As he approached the hull, the ship seemed to awaken. Blue lines began to glow softly, pulsing a little in the darkness. This was the ship where Orochi had been imprisoned when he came as a child. The Ark of Yamato. The Moon Tribe revered and feared this ark. It was the ship that carried their ancestors to this cursed land, and the ship where they imprisoned the raging demon gods.
Waka gazed solemnly at the sacred ark. He thought he had seen himself piloting it, but why would he bring a thing that held old demon gods to the Celestial Plain on a peace mission? Besides, it was no longer functional, and the Princess would surely have a heart attack if he flew something so bulky, dangerous, and conspicuous. He had to have mistaken it for something else.
He turned his back on the ark, and the ship slowly shuddered back into slumber. Moving on, he inspected an unassuming pod that seemed to be in relatively good condition. The dashboard took a while to flicker to life, and the engine was rather loud, but it would do. With a delicate flick of the wrist he tapped the necessary controls and the little pod whirred above the pile of metal and rubbish. The screen flashed light blue, asking him where was his destination. With fingers slender and pale as the crescent moon, he typed in Celestial Plain. The computer took a moment to process, and for a minute Waka wondered if these pods even knew where the Celestial Plain was. But then the machine's gears kicked in, and with an unbelievable burst of energy the pod surged forward into the sky.
From the depths of the quiet, lifeless ark, the snake stirred in its chains.
