Please read Disclaimer in Prelude.
Title: Firebird Sweet, C2: Circles of Flame
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, and Beyond
Rating: T
Summary: Unknown, unseen, the enemy lurks
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Firebird Sweet C2: Circles of Flame
by
Kenshin
Every city---and Tokyo is no exception---has its good and bad
neighborhoods. There are, of course, certain districts best
avoided unless one has shady business coupled with superior
firepower.
While the Crazy Dog Diner is located in a busy, prosperous
downtown area frequented by students, businessmen, and families,
across town lies the notorious block known as Myu-Myu Sector.
That sector, however, is undergoing what is politely termed as
'gentrification.'
Which means, more or less, that abandoned hulks of buildings are
on sale, in some cases for what amounts to a song. Where there
are thriving businesses, rents are cheap, but are unlikely to
remain so for long.
Nobody pays close attention to what goes on inside empty
buildings. Sometimes, roving gangs both human and demon will
take up residence in one of those spaces for a short period of
time to conduct their less-than-savory affairs. Other
excursions, of shorter duration and less forethought, consist of
simply breaking windows and running away.
And in one of these abandoned buildings (displaying a peculiar
rose-tinted brick facade), in a large, vacated office space, a
king holds court.
He was perhaps not much of a king, his rule coming not from
Divine Right, but by fist's might. His court was unimpressive to
behold, but to assume he was any less powerful for all that was a
fatal mistake. Anyone foolish enough to point out its laughable
size and motley subjects never walked away unscathed.
"He'll start lookin' soon," said the king. His thick, heavy
voice lay across the room like an extra helping of dust and
gravel. "The little bastard's been wonderin'. Mark my words,
he's gonna drop me a callin' card."
From the far corner of the room arose the sound of female
murmuring.
The king ignored it. "But I been watchin' him for longer 'n he
knows," he said. "Way longer." Then he smiled, baring a set of
wicked-looking fangs.
This underworld king was not a physically imposing creature
either---at least in terms of height. He was perhaps five feet
tall; his stocky build had thickened over the years until his
stomach ballooned a bit past his barrel chest. Yet there was
power in him, crafted upon his fiery nature. And while some
demons (Youko and Kourime come to mind) can seem virtually
immortal, his kind is old at 40, and he was close to that age
now. Many do not live to see 50. They burn bright and die fast.
Perhaps the foreknowledge of his own imminent mortality lent him
not the calm and grace of dignified old age, but the knife-edge
of anger, despair, and recklessness.
Nor were his surroundings courtly: a few overturned boxes, a
ramshackle of old furniture decorated with dirt and cobwebs. A
faint smell of mildew and rat droppings battled with the stink of
burning wire, and lost.
Dominating one wall of the king's lair was a towering, cobbled-up
suite of electronic equipment, including a video monitor of
enormous size; other cast-off business machines littered the
premises, but there was no mistaking the fact that this king sat
upon a version of a throne---a raised platform on which the least
battered of the mismatched office chairs reigned supreme.
The video monitor was turned on at the moment. Its flickering
images, of a poor quality but recognizable nonetheless, were not
of any broadcast or cable program. They were private moments,
not meant for general viewing, but the fruits of a surveillance
program utilizing jaki. These human-figured demons, ranging in
size from squirrel to house cat, are commonly employed as
messengers to the more powerful.
The jaki had done their camerawork well. A group of five young
people (three male, two female) were captured unawares, walking
down a street that was flickering between sun and cloud. The
young people were minding their own business.
Not all of the youths were human; one of the male demons was tall
and graceful: long, interesting russet hair and leaf-green eyes,
used to turning heads wherever he went. The other demon was
good-looking in an arrogant, offhand manner: crimson eyes and
black-flame hair starburst adding to his vibrant, restive aura.
The king gave a flick of one clawed hand, and the scene switched
to a pastoral location where two other young people, equally
unaware, were enjoying the warm spring day. These two were not
in an urban setting, but in the tranquil gardens of a mountain
temple run by an old reiki master.
A tall orange-haired boy, powerfully built, walked silently and
respectfully alongside a tiny, lovely girl with aquamarine hair
and the same crimson eyes as the young demon in the previous
view.
The demon-king snorted, then turned off the monitor altogether
and surveyed his court.
Of the many creatures attending court this day, only one was
human.
Known by the name of Carlos, the sole human was narrow at the
temple, broad at the jaw, and had careful, hooded eyes. He wore
his long brown hair scraped back into a thick, snakelike tail. A
former chopper pilot for a well-known drug cartel in the
Americas, Carlos was compact, powerful in a brutal sort of way,
and cris-crossed with many old scars that showed pale on his bare
arms. He stood now with his back to the monitor, facing his
king.
The others in the room were demons: oni lounging at games of
dice and cards on a makeshift table in a corner. A couple of
those creatures called Shifters (who, unlike mere Illusion
Beasts, are able to mask their ki as well as shape). An
impressive collection of the female water sprites known as mizu
no odoriko---tiny, delicate demons, human-figured, no taller than
a foot or so, with a greenish cast to their skins, charmingly
elfin in appearance.
And now, huddled together on the floor, shivering. They perhaps
sensed something the others could not.
The office chair-cum-throne creaked. The king rose.
Card and dice games stopped. All his subjects paid fearful
attention.
With one clawed finger, the demon drew a large circle in the air.
The circle was made of flame, held in a thin hoop by his arcane
powers, and the fire made the air around it waver with heat.
Inside the first circle, he drew a second, smaller circle of
flame, and another, smaller, inside that. Finally, the king
placed a fire-dot at the center, a burning bull's-eye.
He smiled. The water-dancers whimpered.
"The thing that gets me is how he's surrounded by all these
creatures. All these worthless lives. Kids. Priests. Stupid
girls. But he puts a value on 'em. So that makes 'em valuable
to me, kinda."
"In what way, Boss?" Carlos turned to face his ruler and
employer.
With a jerk of the same clawed forefinger, the king destroyed
each circle of flame, vanishing the fiery hoops in puffs of black
smoke until only the center bull's-eye remained shimmering in the
air.
"See, I think it's gonna be fun to take 'em away from him, one by
one. Watch him try to figure out what's going on. Watch him try
to mount some offense."
Carlos flicked a glance at the oni and the more interesting
Shifters; they rose and stood at attention, a solid line of bone
and muscle, eager to go.
"Hold it," said the king. They held. "It's broad daylight.
What was you thinkin'? Gonna take a little stroll down Main
Street with your pals?"
Carlos said nothing. The watchful, hooded eyes were fixed on his
employer.
"See, these things, they gotta be planned. Ya gotta have a
scheme."
Carlos thought for a second, then responded. "So what about
this: why don't you control them from here, Boss? It's not that
far. Make the human kid strangle the girl, or the fox-boy tear
the woman to pieces."
The king bared his fangs. "We do stuff on MY say-so, get it?"
Carlos went white at the knuckles. "Yeah, Boss. I got it."
"Good. See that you stay 'got.' Pick one an' wait a little.
Wait till night, or the next day. Ain't no fun 'less he first
gets to feelin' all smug an' happy. It's the ups an' downs that
make for a good campaign. Set 'em up first, then when you knock
'em down again---" The demon smacked his broad lips.
Carlos took a breath, studying the line-up of demons. "You." He
pointed at the smaller Shifter, a demon whose natural state
brought to mind the garden-variety oni---save for the unholy
light shining from its eyes.
That Shifter moved forward to stand near Carlos. The others
subsided, going back to their games.
"That's better," said the underworld king. "I'll tell ya what I
want from him later, an' it's gonna be good. But now..."
He drew himself up to his full height of perhaps five feet. The
other demons softly put down their cards and dice again, waiting.
The king returned to the single point of flame that still hovered
in the air. He twitched his finger, expanding the burning
bull's-eye into another circle of flame. Like the conductor of
an orchestra, he waved his finger.
The circle responded, floating lazily into the center of the
room, where it hovered above the trembling water sprites.
Their tiny voices shrilled in terror as the circle of flame
descended toward them. Frozen in place, they were perhaps hoping
that this would render them invisible.
It did not.
The circle of flame settled like a lariat onto one of the water
sprites. The others scattered, huddling against the wall,
staring at their unfortunate companion with wide, greenish eyes.
The chosen water sprite raised her hands, wailing piteously,
begging her sisters for help, but they were too frightened to
move.
With a flick of the king's clawed finger, the fiery circle
tightened around the hapless sprite. Flames rose, crackling with
glee. The stench of burning flesh made the human cough.
She gave a single prolonged scream before she died.
"Yeah," said the demon-king. His laugh sounded like a wet slug
hitting the floor. "It's go time. But on my clock an' no one
else's."
(To be continued: Botan's got some news!)
-30-
