Author's Note (3/31/17):
Aku's supposed "greatest disguise ever" is put to the test. ;)
Also, how about that new season though, amirite?~
Warnings for this chapter: General pandemonium.
This Chapter was first published March 31st, 2017 and last updated March 31st, 2017.
The forest was ominously quiet when Jack stepped back out into the creeping darkness of early evening. Dark magic still thrummed mercilessly through the air, just as it had during the day, and Jack had to stand in the doorway of Leonard's tree for a moment to brace himself before he stepped back out into the thick of it as the sudden change in atmosphere was almost jarring enough to make him queasy. He had forgotten just how unpleasant the outside air really was compared to the tranquility within Leonard's tree.
Overhead, the moon was rapidly rising in the sky, and the blackened husks of the former trees were silhouetted in its light—looking like knives of ice. The air was briskly cold and growing colder by the moment the longer he stood there- despite the blanket he wore round his shoulders, which Leonard had given him for his journey.
"You come again now, you hear? Anytime you want a free meal and a safe place to stay, I'd be happy to provide," called Leonard down to him from his doorstep, and Jack gave him a tiredly-grateful smile and a respectful bow before the demon retreated back into his house, leaving the samurai alone with his thoughts once more.
The delicate powder of snow which drifted down slowly from overhead frosted everything in a glittering white that was beautiful and sparkling in the moonlight. Jack sighed quietly to himself as he stood there, savoring its brisk chill on his skin and in his hair, as it was a nice change from the unpleasant heat of Leonard's living room.
But Jack quickly shook thoughts of this beauty from his mind. If his premonition was correct, the snow was only just getting started. Come morning, the countryside would know wintertime.
With this thought in mind as he began the short walk out of the clearing, Jack was absurdly grateful for having visited Leonard. The demon had been surprisingly generous with him compared to the other supernatural beings Jack had met; both in terms of parting gifts for the journey ahead, and in terms of his guidance.
Jack pulled the worn, patchwork blanket tighter around his shoulders, thankful for its every stitch as he considered the demon's gifts. He had received provisions enough for three days, nonperishable foods and some water, which he now carried at his side in a traveler's tote; the blanket, that Jack now draped tightly round his shoulders; and lastly, two very important pieces of parchment, both of which he had stowed away in his sleeve for safe keeping.
The first parchment, useful only for that night, bore the demon's signature and a simple phrase written in his elaborate, flourishing script. It said, simply, 'I'm cashing in that favor you owe me. See to it this man is fed, watered, and kept for the night.' Jack was to present this parchment to the owner of the inn up the road in exchange for a free night's stay and complimentary breakfast. Leonard had apparently once done a great favor for the inn keeper's husband some years ago, and he was confident they'd allow Jack a night's stay in exchange for this previous service.
The second parchment, however… Jack hesitated in his stride and withdrew it from his sleeve. He studied it for a moment in the moonlight, holding the page taut by the corners as if it was his last link to the waking world.
Here could be found the tired dregs of his hope.
"Pass beneath the Claws and emerge unburned;
Climb the Peaks and glimpse a Future, affirmed;
See things Unseen; know Eternity's dreams.
See what has Been. Know what will Be.
Comprehend the Flow which doth bless and curse.
Find Life amidst Death; embrace what none hate worse.
Skirt the Realm of the damned; unravel the Stream strand-by-strand.
Glimpse these and you'll know things that no others can."
This poem, which had apparently come to Leonard in a dream three weeks before Jack's arrival, was to be his only direction for his next venture into the unknown.
"It's the damnedest thing, Jack," said Leonard as he reclined back in his armchair. "I'd never dreamt anything like it before."
"I was floating in a darkness so thick I couldn't see my hand before my face—if I even had hands, that is—and all around me, there was this incredible sense of peace and rightness. I felt like I was in the presence of something greater than myself. Greater, even, than Aku if you can believe it…"
The demon looked down as he stroked his Kirin between its ears. "There was this indescribable power all around me," he said quietly, almost reverently. "It made my strongest magicks look like a drop of water in the ocean. A candle, if you will, against the sun..."
Leonard trailed off into thoughtful silence. He stared hard at a dried spot of ink on the table, seemingly grasping at something that coiled at the edge of his memory.
The crackling of the wood in the fireplace was soothing in the silence, and Jack was reminded distantly of the last time he'd been a guest in someone's treehouse; only then, it had been under much less friendly terms. So long ago, when Aku had disguised as a Hermit… Then, it had been so easy for Jack to see through the demon's bad intentions; had been so easy for him to find a way despite the trials. But now…
It had been 7 years since then. He hoped this meeting would be enough to put his path to rights once more.
"And then-" said Leonard suddenly, breaking from his spell of thoughtfulness and jarring Jack from his troubling thoughts. The demon's eyes were still fixed to the spot of ink. "Out of nowhere, this voice—the voice of a woman I had never met… it spoke to me out of the darkness…
It called me by name and introduced itself as nothing more than 'a friend'. She gave me this poem, claiming it was something very important for me to remember, and I'd know what to do with it when the time came."
Leonard looked up again, meeting Jack's bewildered expression with eyes that were sure of what they'd seen. "Needless to say, I immediately wrote it down when I woke up, and I set about doing whatever research I could to try and make some kind of sense out of it."
He huffed a laugh. "Today, I admit I'm not much closer to figuring it out, but I know you'll make some use of it."
The demon sipped from his tea and sighed. "Now that you're here, I know you're the one she wanted me to pass it along to…"
Jack mentally gave himself a shake. First and foremost, before he could even consider what the poem meant, he had to get out of the forest.
There was a certain smell in the air… Just barely perceptible, it lingered like decay beneath the pungent reek of dark magic. Heady and unpleasant, Jack vaguely recognized it from his travels in the city, and he was sure he hadn't noticed the smell that afternoon.
The samurai huffed sharply, pushing the smell as far from his person as he could. It was subtle in the air, hardly noticeable; the smell of danger. Of wrongness.
There was something in the forest that didn't belong.
Never one to doubt his instincts, Jack tensed, allowing the blanket and tote bag to slip off his shoulders and pool in the dirt. One hand inched slowly for his sword, and he readied his stance for a danger that wasn't yet present. He reached outwards with his every perception—straining to see into the darkness of the trees and listening hard for the faintest sound.
Around him, the forest was deathly quiet. If not for the faint thrum of magic which still buzzed all around him just as strongly as it had during the day, there wasn't a sound. But, then—
There.
Somewhere at the edge of his hearing, there came the faint crash and groan of rotten wood tumbling to the ground.
And there: the distant hiss of hydraulics and the coldly familiar chink chink chink of hundreds of bladed limbs gouging into the dirt.
Just as the samurai had feared.
How could Aku's army have found me so quickly!? He asked himself, but there wasn't much time at all for him to think on this, for the creatures were upon him within seconds.
He drew his sword and held it before himself by way of a challenge as the first of Aku's robotic insects breached the edge of the clearing and made its way towards him. Behind it, its fellows followed in a rush and they circled Jack in a tide. The samurai tightened his jaw, but stood tall and unafraid in the midst of circling death- despite the fact that adrenaline was now thundering through his veins. He didn't flinch whatsoever as the insects abruptly ceased their circling and stared him down.
The insects all stood upright as one and locked their bladed forelegs together, forming a fence of unkind steel through which Jack could hardly see the surrounding forest, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. That was a new maneuver.
Through the gaps in the fence, he could see other insects joining the ranks. These newcomers circled just like the first wave before finally assuming staggered positions outside the veterans of the charge. Their forelegs upraised menacingly, as though the insects meant to keep Jack right where he is, but they don't stand like their brothers. Not yet.
The insects were so near, Jack could see himself reflected hundreds of time in the facets of their acid green eyes.
Jack grew very still.
Wait.
Icy cold sweat drips down his brow and runs in rivulets down his neck. He has to swallow his heart in his throat.
The unusual smell that accompanied the insects today, their change in eye color, the new tactical maneuvers… What… What was the meaning of this!?
His suspicions were aggravated when he noticed one of the insects to his far left was drawing a hose-like appendage back into its silvery jaws. A suspicious amber-colored drop of liquid oozed slowly from between the monster's metallic teeth. Jack watches it run down the monster's chin and drip sluggishly to the ground, looking like drool, and his eyes widen a fraction as he realizes why that heady, unpleasant smell seemed so familiar and why everything here tonight seemed so dreadfully, unbelievably wrong.
He recognized that smell. It was the smell of diesel fuel.
At that moment, there came from overhead a tremendous commotion not unlike the blades of a jet turbine descending from the night. Then came the sound of snapping wood and shattered glass, and Jack knows still more bugs have lit on Leonard's tree.
Before Jack could make the first move, he stood up straighter in alarm. A brisk clicking sound almost like that of flint on steel echoed hauntingly from the edge of the horde. Jack could only watch in horror as one of the robotic insects at the edge of the group gnashed its ugly silver jaws together, sending a fountain of sparks scattering to the ground.
Time seems to stop. The sparks bounce for a second too long and- WHOOSH!
The sparks ignite diesel fuel, unleashing a massive explosion that knocks the samurai to the dirt, and huge chunks of rotten wood and earth are sent flying to clot out the stars overhead.
When Jack heaves himself to his feet, the forest around him is alive to a hell's chorus of crackling fire and snapping wood. His hands and knees are scraped and bleeding, and his gi is torn at the knees. Behind him, Leonard's tree has gone up in flames, and a number of its flaming limbs are hanging over the forest like the imminent claws of damnation. There is a crater at the edge of the clearing in the wake of the explosion, and a great number of Aku's insects are in pieces, their robotic innards flaming as though they had sacrificed themselves to fuel this Hell.
A bloodcurdling scream rips from Leonard's tree, and the insects are silhouetted in the firelight like demons.
With a yell, the samurai swung his sword in a ferocious arc of steel and brought it down, expecting to slice effortlessly through the first of the surviving insects that had upraised its blades to meet him. His mouth fell open with surprise as the insect deftly met his sword mid-strike and parried his cut with a slice of its own. The fabric of his gi shredded somewhere at his midriff, and the insect's blade drew a shallow cut along his skin that stung harshly in the cold night air. A warning. The samurai ignored the pain and kicked out, sending the bug sprawling just in time for another to scrabble over it and take its place.
Seeing an opening somewhere to his left, where the bugs have yet to close the gap, Jack bolted for Leonard's tree. The sound of crackling fire and the hydraulics of pursuing insects was loud in his ears as he wrested open the front door and ran through the entrance hall, dodging objects or otherwise pushing them to the floor in his haste. Behind him, the bugs forced themselves through the doorway by crawling in sideways, and Jack could hear their bladed limbs gouging deep into the wood as they scrabbled to force themselves inside.
Bursting into the living room was like being thrust into the middle of a woodstove. The fire hungrily arced up the walls and through the bookshelves like a beast that'd been freed, and all around him Jack could hear the giant tree groaning as though it means to collapse. There comes from outside such a commotion of falling wood and broken timber that Jack knew the insects were tearing the tree to pieces.
From somewhere in the smoke, there came the shrieking of Leonard's Kirin, sounding like so many bells out of sync.
"Leonard!" Jack charged into the room and pulled the demon, who had been kneeling to gather up his Kirin, to his feet. When Jack hefted him upright and shoved him out the living room door without a further word, his only thought is on getting them both out of the tree alive rather than the thud of something hitting the ground behind them as Leonard is forcibly shoved outside. He slams the door to Leonard's tree in the face of the three bugs who had attempted to follow them back outside, and it's not until they are safely out that he realizes his mistake.
Before him, the surviving bugs have completely encircled Leonard's tree, leaving no available avenue for escape, and behind him, the tree was ablaze. They were trapped.
"What now, Jack?" Leonard yelled above the roaring of the fire, and the bugs step forward as one—as if on cue. Jack gritted his teeth and stood protectively before him, his gaze hard and determined.
"We fight until we find a means of escape," Jack answered simply, and the bugs stepped forth once more.
The Kirin shrieked in its desperation to be freed, but Jack ignored it. He was busy counting the surviving insects.
A third step, and there was hardly space enough between Jack and the nearest insect for him to breathe. Not counting the ones that were busy tearing apart the tree, there were no less than 50 bugs left standing.
The samurai raised his blade,
And—
YAHHHH!
A man's battle cry echoed piercingly from somewhere within the flames, and all goes still.
A tremendous dark shape came barreling out of the fire and into the midst of the insects, sending them scattering or otherwise crushing them beneath the beast's giant forepaws.
The smoke cleared a fraction, and Jack couldn't believe his eyes. A dark-skinned man brandishing a sword and wearing a cloak and armor about his shoulders, sitting astride a huge, dark grey dragon stood in the midst of the decimated insects.
The stranger caught Jack's eye for a moment, looking down at him with eyes red as blood, before disemboweling another of the robotic insects—shoving his sword up to the hilt in the bug's midsection and pulling it back out amidst a fountain of oil and sparks.
A shiver, like premonition, shook through Jack's very bones. Where had he seen those eyes before..?
The stranger's dragon roared, then, as it swatted aside three more insects, and one of them is sent flying towards Jack and Leonard. The samurai leapt out of the way, but Leonard is not so fortunate. With a dismayed cry, he shields his Kirin with his body and braces himself for impact—
But nothing happened.
Jack looked to the stranger again, and his palm is upraised in Leonard's direction. The destroyed insect that had been about to crush him is hovering strangely in midair only inches away, like magic. The stranger flicked his hand dismissively in some other direction, and the insect resumes its momentum in the direction of the gesture, this time bowling over three of its fellows. The force of the impact sent them skidding in the dirt, huge gashes torn in their shells, where they lay without moving.
"Come with me if you want to live!" the stranger yelled in their general direction from atop his mount.
Jack hesitated for only a second before grabbing Leonard by the arm and running with him to the dragon, where they quickly clambered up onto the saddle.
Right as they are about to take off, however, Leonard's Kirin finally wrested itself from the demon's grasp. Jack could only watch as the little beast scrabbled over his lap and proceeded to rip its little teeth ferociously into the stranger's cloak. All the while, it was screaming its furious song—the bells echoing loudly over everything else, even the sound of falling timber as the giant tree began to lose its foundation.
Bright white flames erupt around the little creature's teeth, singeing the stranger's cloak fiercely before the man turned abruptly, almost impatiently, and lunged. With a strength that was almost shocking, the man grips the Kirin effortlessly round its midsection and heaved it to the ground like a ragdoll, where it landed with a sickening crunch and lay still.
"NO!" Leonard made as if to disembark from the saddle, but it's too late.
"YAH!" the stranger yelled, cracking the reigns, and his dragon took off at a bound, leaving the little Kirin, the clearing, and the bugs behind.
The beast was running too fast for Jack or Leonard to even think about letting go, and before long the sounds and heat of the spreading fire are long behind them as they broke from the forest and out into the open. The dragon beats its wings with a roar, and soon they're aloft.
Airborne now, the only sound was Leonard's sobbing and the whistling wind. So high up, the air was all but frozen, and Jack clung to the stranger's waist like a lifeline. To either side, all that could be seen was cloud cover, sooty-grey in the moonlight like so many others' dreams and lives up in smoke.
They traveled in a stupor of silence for a long several minutes before Jack thought to say something.
"Who are you," he demanded suddenly, his voice rough from the smoke. "What were you doing in the forest, and why did you help us?"
"So many questions," observed the stranger casually, seemingly not at all offended by Jack's suspicious, if not outright accusatory tone of voice. He looked over his shoulder; catching Jack's eyes again with his—and still, the samurai couldn't help but think those eyes were so very familiar.
"I could be asking you the very same things," said the stranger by way of dismissal before turning round to face forward again.
"I've been visiting those woods for years now, and this is the first time I've ever seen you." He snarled. "Is it any coincidence that our first encounter just so happens to coincide with the first day that Aku's bugs make it this far north?
It was against my better judgment that I saved you. After what I've done tonight, you can bet you'll be seeing my name on the Wanted Lists by tomorrow morning. As if I needed any more trouble from Aku."
It was a long few seconds before Jack finally thought of an appropriate answer.
"Regardless of why you did it.. Thank you," he replied honestly, his voice coming out so quietly that his words are almost lost on the wind. "If you hadn't revealed yourself… I'm not sure what we would have done. Aku's bugs have never been-"
The stranger scoffed, cutting him short. "You're welcome," he said impatiently. "Just don't expect me to be there for you again, because it's not going to happen. It was luck that put you and I in the same forest tonight, nothing more and nothing less."
Jack couldn't think of anything appropriate to say to that, so the ride quickly lapsed back into tense silence. He could feel Leonard shaking behind him, so wracked was he with sorrow at the loss of so many memories and hard work, but still nobody said a word.
Jack had already opened his mouth to ask again just who the stranger was, when he noticed him lean forward a fraction and murmur something against his dragon's scales. Suddenly, the clouds were rising around them and the ground was drawing up from out of the white. A lodge loomed before them, set upon a hill; a candle was burning weakly in its highest window.
The dragon landed close beside the inn in an ungraceful flurry of snow and ash, its wings splayed so widely that they clipped the edge of the inn's sign, causing it to swing wildly and noisily in the otherwise dense silence of the evening. After turning around in his seat to look them over and make sure everyone made the trip in one piece, the stranger disembarked from his dragon with an acrobat's catlike grace, his stance sure and confident as he landed kneeling with one gloved hand supporting his weight in the snow. He stands and, with an expression that could only be described as tired distaste, he offered his arm to Jack and Leonard to help them down.
After a moment's hesitation, in which Jack gives him another of his searching, mistrustful looks, the samurai took his arm and clambered down from the dragon's saddle. Leonard, meanwhile, completely disregards the offer and disembarks on his own, leaping down and landing unsteadily in the snow. He walked into the lodge ahead of them, his shoulders hunched against the cold and his gaze downcast.
The samurai shivered despite himself when he looked up at the lodge. His heart was heavy with so much sorrow as the snow billowed mercilessly around him.
In the distance, the burning forest was a hardly visible coil of smoke billowing into the sky, and Jack was certain that the bugs could not possibly know of their location—not now that they were so far away. From here, the pyre of Leonard's tree was the brightest thing in the distance, its light glowing innocently like a candle's flame as it burned high into the night sky, and Jack had to look away lest his bitterness get the better of him.
The samurai sighed, grasped tiredly for the tatters of his willpower, and began to walk towards the lodge, leaving the stranger behind to tend the dragon.
Some hours later, the night was deafeningly silent as Jack sat by himself in his room. There was a gentle draft coming through a crack in the mortar, and it unsettled the hair that had fallen loose from his topknot, blowing flyaways into his face, but the samurai didn't bother to fix it. He sat hunched over, indifferent to the relentless cold and the gentle draft of snow which drifted gently into the room, his head resting heavily in his hands.
No fire was in the grate.
No candles were lit.
All was still as the samurai sits in blessed darkness, drinking in the silence.
He sighed shakily to himself as he sat there, fighting the crumbling sensation he could feel taking root deep in his soul. Seven years was a long time to be doing something, yet make no progress. Seven years was a long time to be thwarted at every turn without fail—to have one's hopes dashed on the rocks with every new day.
To take one step forward one must first take ten steps back.
The samurai lifted his head to look out at the darkness of his room, uncaring that the room was so plain, for it was safe and that's what mattered. Visions of flames danced in his eyes as he stared hard into nothingness, and he could still smell soot on his skin; could still feel the ash in his hair. Could feel it under his nails.
The cut on his stomach was stinging fiercely now. At this rate, if he doesn't clean it, it would surely become infected. He puts a hand to it subconsciously, and draws in a sharp breath as he touched tender flesh, and his hand came away damp with blood. It hurt more than he thought it would. Of course, it didn't help that his hands were still cut from his rough landing earlier. And for that matter, his knees were stinging fiercely too. His eyes fell closed once more, and he allowed his head to fall once again into his hands, uncaring of the stinging pain. A lot was on his mind.
He wanted to think. Really, he did. But, he couldn't hold onto any one thought for very long at all before it would flit away, and another would take its place.
In this manner he passed the next hour. Hunched against the cold, he stared hard into the darkness, allowing the events of that night to wash over him—allowing the sensory memories to flash into his mind. Each, more painful and vivid than the last.
He recalled the demon's scream as his home was invaded.
The icy feeling of dread—colder than any snowfall—trickling into his heart when the smell of diesel drifted to him on the wind.
He recalled the stranger, with his eyes so red and familiar.
But the thing he remembered clearest was the Kirin, and its needlelike teeth ripping and tearing for all it was worth into the stranger's cloak. The flames which billowed round its teeth had given off no heat that Jack could feel, yet they singed the man's cloak almost right through to the leather tunic that he wore underneath.
Kirin were supposed to be gentle creatures. Creatures of divine justice, they only attacked those who were—
Jack sat up straighter at once.
They only attacked those who were truly evil.
Those eyes.
The Kirin's sudden ferocity.
Please, he prayed to whatever gods were listening, casting his eyes to the ceiling as he lay back in his bed. Gods, don't let him be who I think he is…
Parting Words: Thanks for sticking around and continuing to support this little fic even though I take forever to post new chapters, you guys. ;w; Your support really does mean a lot, and I love seeing new comments and kudos! Like really. Y'all are the reason I keep doing this. 3
Chapters 3 and 4 were the really tough parts for me, but chapters 5+ should be a whooole lot easier since I finally have an idea of what I want to happen haha.
P.S. If you like my interpretation of Aku, you might consider dropping by my RP blog that I run for him! Find us both at .com
P.S.S. Aku's new human form that I'm using for this fic can be found here: post/155460805606/finally-finished-this-after-like-two-or-three