Who, at 16, wants to be sacrificed in the name of some horrible monster? Certainly not me. But there was the chance that this was about to happen.
I smelt the pungent smell of the algae from a freshwater lake. The only freshwater lake that nearby to the shrine was... oh dear. The Moon Cave would glow with a faint blue sheen, so if I saw that—there it was. I was right, then. One of the girls would be sacrificed.
The wagon suddenly jerked, signalling a stop. I pulled at my bonds, trying to loosen them. But then I thought of something. What would happen to the girls that weren`t sacrificed, for they only needed one? A story my mother told me suddenly sprung up in my mind, of a girl who had been kidnapped, never to be seen again. That is, until they found her body, throat slit like some pig left to bleed dry, but she was years older than when she disappeared. People could only assume what happened to her all those years she was gone. And I knew what most thought.
Some said she was kidnapped to be sold into slavery, or maybe because she was pretty, but most believed her to have been taken to a whorehouse. But the people that said that always were countered with, "But who could do such a thing?"
Suddenly, the wagon was opened, and a girl was pulled out. She started screaming and crying, but was quieted by a loud slap. She sounded no older than 13.
"Not her." A man said. I heard a dragging noise and a few whimpers. "What about this one?" He laughed when the girl cried out painfully.
"No." The authority in this one`s tone made me think he was the leader. But then I realized something. He was the man I kicked. "The fighter. It`ll be more fun that way."
Everyone laughed, and suddenly I was pulled out. I wouldn`t scream. I wouldn`t give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. But then I was overwhelmed by a wave of terror at what would happen. What would they do? The tears welled up in my eyes, and one slipped out.
Someone grabbed the ropes holding me and started to drag me along. I began to struggle again, but I was being dragged, in the middle of the night, to my doom. What could have I done? My knees hit something solid. And again. Over and over again. Stairs. Then there was a stretch of open cobblestone, but it felt clammy and moist, as if we were in a place no one visited often.
Another set of stairs later, and I was pushed up against cool metal. They undid my bonds, but immediately they were did up again, except now, the metal dug into my arms, as if my arms were tied around a pole, or maybe a post or... a bell stand. A bell stand like the one that was said to be placed on top of Orochi's back and is still at the Moon Cave, to this day, even after he was defeated.
I screamed then. I screamed while they laughed, while they pulled off my blindfold, not minding when they pulled some hair. I cried while they sharpened a knife, while they jeered and leered towards me, making cut-throat motions.
This couldn`t be happening, this could not be happening. This is just a dream, and when I wake up, I`ll stay in bed for a few minutes, taking my time, and then I`ll warm some of the stew left over from dinner. The warmth will soothe me like my mother would have, if she`d been there at the shrine. Or maybe a good friend.
Just close your eyes, Kazuna. You`ll wake up. Believe me.
So I did. I pressed my eyes closed, hard enough to force out tears trough my lashes, and opened them. But nothing had happened. Nothing.
"We'll make you have a wide smile, girl, if you know what I mean. Doesn't that sound nice?"
But, suddenly, there was a shout and loud crash, as if someone was pushed on top of pottery. More shouts, and I could hear punctuated slaps of skin hitting skin, like a fist coming in contact with a face or an arm. A black figure, one not dressed in black, but black because of the shadows, was fighting the men, kicking and knocking some unconscious with the hilt of a glowing blue sword, and with apparent ease.
Within minutes, my captors were lying on the ground, knocked out cold. The figure turned to me, but all I could make out of it was gleaming blues eyes. I could tell it was human, or at least looked human, for it walked on two legs, and it was coming straight at me!
I screamed. Loudly, for so what if someone heard me? And I didn`t want to face someone who was stronger than the men I couldn`t even hurt, especially bound. The figure came closer, and for the first time, I noticed the dagger in his hands. The same one that the leader had almost slit my throat with.
Leaning close, the man, for I guessed him to be a him, placed the dagger dangerously close to my neck. I gulped, my eyes wide and wet. He seemed to notice this, so he put the dagger on the ropes binding me. With one swipe, I was free.
Immediately, I pressed myself closer to the cool metal, trying to get as much distance between him and me. The worst thoughts came to my mind. All the stories of men freeing deer into large areas, only to hunt them down with an arrow to the heart, came rushing in. The thrill of the hunt. Where have I heard that before? It reminded me of this situation, except I knew what was happening, what was going to happen, and all the possibilities of why. And I was the deer.
My eyes stretched wide, tears trailing freely down my face, my mouth open in a soundless scream, I got to my feet and swung around to the other side of the bell`s stand. The man looked at me, puzzled for some unknown reason, and reached towards my arms. I pulled away, dashing towards the entrance.
This one time, I found a note on my pillow, with my name written on it. Curious, I opened up the folded parchment, and found one sentence. For weeks after, I couldn`t help but wonder who had written it, for I didn`t recognize the handwriting. I had assured myself that it was a prank, a joke. But I still looked over my shoulder every time I was alone. The words of the note haunted me and rang in my head that night as I fled the cave under the cover of darkness.
Don`t look back, because something might be gaining on you.
But I couldn`t resist the temptation of looking over my shoulder. When I did, I found him still at the bell, staring after me. Pain laced up my arms as I brushed away tears. Looking down, I found them bloodied and raw from the ropes. How could I have not noticed it before?
I tore out of the cave, wishing speed and distance from the man. I stumbled, and I got the feeling of someone watching me. I looked up from the ground, but found no one. I clambered to my feet, crying out with pain when my ankle and wrist pressed against the ground. I ran to nearby stand of trees, crying the whole way, and found a pond.
It was overgrown, like no one had been there in a long time. The water was clear as crystal, though. Memories came to me then, unbidden.
"We`re going to the pond today, princess." said my handmaiden, pulling on my arm. "The Queen`s already in the carriage. We wouldn't want to keep her waiting, now would we?"
I shook my head and she smiled. "Good."
The trip to the pond was uneventful. When we finally got there, I begged my mother to let me swim in the clear water.
She shook her head and said, "I took you here to tell you something." Being only six, I turned to her eagerly, not noticing the regretful tone she had.
"What?"
"You don`t live with us anymore, Kazuna."
The smile I wore froze on my face. I couldn`t move, couldn`t blink, couldn't breathe. I just stared at her, my mother, the Queen, and I couldn`t think of anything to say. I took a deep breath.
"Mommy, I don`t understand...W-What do you mean?" I stammered in my six-year-old lisp.
"Dear, what I mean is what I said. You are to live the rest of your life at the shrine here."
And that`s where I lived. I was taught to be patient, to love, to be helpful, I always thought that it was temporary, so when I asked to go home after a particularly rough beating from my "friends", I was genuinely surprised when my Master said, "This is your home, Kazuna."
"No, Master. My home`s is where Mommy is."
He just ushered me out of him room, and into mine, where I was laughed at because I wanted to go home, but couldn`t. Ever since then, I associated ponds and clear water with tears and despair.
And this moment didn`t break that tie, but only strengthened it. I sobbed so hard that my body shook and I ended up heaving into the bushes. I washed my mouth in the pond, and then took notice of the raw skin on my wrists and ankles. They were caked with dirt, stinging and sore, and my kimono was ripped at the hem from my mad dash here, dirtied and destroyed. To distract myself from my memories, I began to wash up my feet, arms, face, and the cuts I received from the trees and knives.
As I was staring at a particularly deep gash, there was a rustle nearby. And when I looked up, I found myself face-to-face with the man behind the black shadow.
"My name`s Waka. I`d like to know why you ran away from your rescuer, ma chèrie."