...
Prelude
...
The Wanderer's Inn was accustomed to travelers and brawlers, but few of its customers were lone women, and even fewer were lone women with no name.
The woman with no name did not know this, and had she known she would not have cared. She drank, and she ate, and she nursed her wounds – the blue-purple bruise on her left cheekbone was hopeless, but the slash on her arm could be bound and cleaned. She was weak from the loss of her power, and there was a pounding through her head like a muted drum.
The innkeeper's wife was not in, but the innkeeper had a room, and the nameless woman had money from her earlier fight – enough money to support one room or five.
"Where am I?" she said, and when the innkeeper named a town Soi didn't know, and Kaen knew but not quite where, the woman with no name murmured, "All right."
The inn was warm, and her guard was down, and she was Kaen and nodding off over her meal. When the innkeeper bade her to take more to eat, she ate; when he told her where to go to find her room, she stood; and when there was no room, only darkness and pain, she cursed herself twice over before she slipped into oblivion.
...
X
Here it comes again
...
On the morning of her departure from the Kutou palace, Miaka overslept gravely. The clock had struck eleven when she woke, frantic and unhappy and in a tearing hurry to depart. It was a poor beginning to the second epic journey of her life, but sleep had not come easily to her the previous night. She packed in a rush and left in a state of high disorder, alone but for the company of her horse and some blankets.
From the high tower window that overlooked the palace grounds, Nakago saw the Suzaku no Miko ride from the palace walls at near gallop, as though terrified that she would once again be captured by his guards and restrained. Her hair streamed in the breeze, and her arms were bare despite the chill.
The rain began scarce five minutes after she departed, a steady, soaking downpour. Minutes later, a stablehand brought to Nakago's attention that the scepter leaning forgotten against the stable wall had likely belonged to the departed Suzaku no Miko.
The stables were empty, and it was painfully easy to locate the scepter of Kutou, pitiful and abandoned in the dirt next to the stable gate. Nakago studied the scene, listening for a moment to the snorting and chewing of animals surrounding him, before reaching forward. As he bent, something small and blue caught his eye, half-crushed by the scepter's weight, vibrant in the dim stable light.
-v-
Nakago had sometimes wondered, after meeting this-world's Kaen, how it was that his self in this world had accepted its memories so quickly. He had months ago concluded that the similarities between his two selves were what had allowed the memories had been painlessly integrated into his psyche. What differences remained between his Shijintenchisho self and this world's Ayuru were normally slight enough that his Shijintenchisho memories rose dominant –yet occasionally he was aware of these differences, and pondered them.
Their paths had been similar until the desecration of his village at the age of eleven. Without his powers, this world's Ayuru had not brought about his mother's death in a violent burst of destruction. Instead, the two had been captured by Kutou soldiers – she, raped and used and beaten, and he, powerless to stop it (as he had been powerless to stop every other horror inflicted on the tribe by Kutou).
He had found another way to bring on his mother's death, through the sickness that struck him, and later, her. She had cared for him to the point of breaking – given all her food and kept a few bites for herself, and she was struck down with the same fever before Ayuru knew what had been done. Her death was his guilt, as it had been Nakago's.
But he had sat by her deathbed, something that Shijintenchisho Nakago had never managed to do. She was delirious, stricken with fever, nonsensical to the point of madness. She murmured lies and gibberish, walked back to her happy childhood days – before his birth, before the tribe spurned them. "I want to tell you about your father," she murmured, for she had promised that day, before the blood and flame and fire, before the entire world had collapsed around them, but there had been no time since then to talk. "I want to tell you about your father."
"What about my father?" said Ayuru, and she rolled over – so feverish (she was going to die the next day) and she mumbled for water and would not answer when he pressed her. But there was one word that she did repeat, over and over through the night, as she clutched his hand and shivered on the bed:
"Lanxing."
She had died the next morning and only later, years later, had learned what the name meant – that it belonged to a blue flower that grew in the lands ruled by Gi Koyuu - a rare, wood blossom with a bloom cycle of five years. He knew of no medicinal significance to the flower, no value save its rarity and beauty, and that the flower's color was the shade of his eyes, cerulean. The meaning of the word, its purpose on his mother's lips: that remained a mystery, one that likely would ever go unsolved.
But as he touched the spot on which the scepter had lain, brushing away the dirt and muck and filth with his fingertips to reveal the burst of blue petals in the pattern of a star, Ayuru had to wonder.
-v-
What had in the Shijintenchisho been the temple to Seiryuu, was only a part of the garden, and the rain was rotting the fallen cherry blossoms on the ground.
Nakago stood in the shadow of the cherry tree and waited. It was not a long wait.
Later than I expected, Nakago.
The voice shivered through his mind like a breeze of ice, but Nakago did not flinch. He reclined against the cherry tree, arms at his sides. It was a guarded position, but it appeared a relaxed one. "Your attempt to kill me in the Emperor's palace was premature, my Lord."
I merely wished to assess your strength, said Tenkou. I have no need for a weak servant, nor for one who would betray me.
"And your assessment?"
Nakago spoke the words casually, but one hand was on his sword hilt. It was not out of the question that Tenkou would call a physical attack upon him, should he step falsely.
Your current lack of seishi powers makes you vulnerable…
The words trailed off lazily, laden with suggestion.
"You insult me." Nakago spoke coldly. "Only a fool or a weakling would be persuaded to share his soul with one of your demons, Tenkou. Do you believe me as weak-minded as the Emperor of Kutou?
"I have a better solution than killing the Suzaku no Miko." His eyes glittered above his smile, which was almost derisive. "Let her live."
Explain.
"The Suzaku no Miko is broken," said Nakago. "Her weakness and guilt have brought her towards the edge of sanity. Already she has found herself close to murder. A shove – a nudge in the proper direction – could suffice to drive her over the edge entirely.
"Taiitsukun's most beloved – twisted to become your greatest weapon, your consort, your pet – anything my lord desires." He allowed his eyes to drift lazily across the courtyard. A smile touched his lips. He could have been mocking or sincere. "An interesting game, don't you agree?"
You always were fond of toying with prey, but I did not take you for a fool. There was a sneer in his voice that was like rotten meat, a raw edge to his voice that grated on the mind. The Suzaku no miko cannot even enter Hell in her current state. Do you believe her an appropriate target for corruption?
Nakago smiled, as though to a joke Tenkou was not privy to. "She is, and she will fall, in the end. I shall win her trust, and twist her guilt to our advantage – without her even aware of our intent."
And in exchange?
The sweet scent of rot pervaded the courtyard. The air was ripe with it – decrepit and brown and ugly. Mould was starting to gather on the stone seat behind the azalea blossoms.
"You know what I want," Nakago said, impassive.
Your seishi powers back, Tenkou purred. A place at my side when I rule the earth. Predictable, but fitting for someone of your ambitions. I could give you your powers back now, if you will accept a demon... Otherwise your powers will not be returned until I am freed.
Nakago said nothing, though his eyes narrowed slightly.
And how, said Tenkou lazily, do you suppose to accomplish what you seek to do without my aid, or the aid of your powers?
"I am halfway there already," said Nakago, "and as for the other half… the miko forgot a good deal in her hurried departure from Kutou. It is not hard to twist someone into trusting you – particularly not one so naïve as a priestess from a foreign world."
Unspoken on the air lay the shadow of Yui Hongo, Seiryuu no Miko, Priestess of Darkness, complicit and broken and nearly a murderess. One miko was, after all, much like another.
Nakago sensed Tenkou testing the idea of Miaka's corruption in his mind, coldly coming to terms with it. Tenkou's presence bore about it a thinly-disguised greed – greed for Taiitsukun's destruction, for the collapse of the gods, for his own ambitions. Tenkou was powerful, but underneath it his power he was still a man, and he lusted for things men desired: power, destruction, revenge. He chafed against the bonds imposed on him by Taiitsukun and the gods of the living. Against Hell and its constraints. The miko's corruption would be a worse blow to his enemies than her death. So it was decided.
Tenkou's assent shuddered through Nakago's skull like the aftershock of an earthquake. It was not to be flinched at. Nakago did not. A hint of hesitation would destroy him, for Tenkou approved but not truly – a hint of doubt was there. Tenkou was a man, and he knew fear, as well as greed.
Tenkou watched Nakago leave, as well as any trapped spirit that was capable only of mental communication with the physical world could watch the departure of a servant, and he chuckled, low and cold.
You have a lot of time to think in the underworld. Mostly Tenkou contemplated power, vengeance, or equally banal concepts that sent his head in giddy circles of hate and obsessive greed, which always culminated in extensive planning about escape strategies, the first thing he would do when he made it out of this hellhole, &etc. Sometimes he contemplated his hair. In the real world, Tenkou's hair had been stunning, but you could never get your hair to flow quite right in Hell. It was one of the reasons Hell was an awful place.
Sometimes though, when he was forcibly reminded of their existence, or when they proved especially useful in his extensive planning, Tenkou considered his minions. This was one of those rare times, and the minion of consideration was Nakago.
Nakago was a man that Tenkou had considered more than most in the last fifteen years, for he was Tenkou's creation, a mirror for Tenkou's ambitions. He embodied all the things that drove Tenkou – hatred, vengeance, and a cold lack of mercy. But. There was Seiryuu to be considered. Nakago was Seiryuu's child, too.
And Tenkou thought of another minion, as well, an assassin he had sent hours before, a human-possessed-demon with a cruel heart and an arrow headed straight for the hapless miko as she hid from the rain.
Ride fast, Nakago. You may still be worthy of being called my servant.
A smile graced his mouth. Upper lip curled back. It was not a nice smile, for he had teeth like a cat's, spike-pointed and dangerous. And like a cat, Tenkou agreed with Nakago's philosophy on toying with one's prey before devouring it. Death was so much more exciting that way. It would be – what were those words Nakago had used so charmingly? - an interesting game to see who arrived at the miko's side first.
Le Grand Author's Note:
Somehow, one week turned into two, for which I am terribly sorry. Blame the combination of my new job, which is absolutely awesome but has kept me crazily busy, and my parents' love for weekend vacations. Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers – AGrandMalfunction, Marguerite Lily, Alcestis, Broken Ink Bottles, Desert Renaissance, midnight blue08, megumisakura!
This chapter went through a couple revisions. I think I like where it ended up. Dare I chuckle evilly? Feedback is, as always, much appreciated! Also, kudos to the first person to figure out which song the Part II chapter titles come from. ^_^ (I ran out of Gollum's Song lyrics).
Q/A:
Is Miaka a true threat to Nakago ? Or is he really going to just let her walk off ?
I think I gave a poor answer to the person who posted this question in my reviews, for which I'm sorry. I was still in the process of working out some last-minute plot details at the time, in my excuse :) Nakago doesn't see Miaka as a threat, per se... He lets her walk off because it is advantageous to him at the time, and it fits in with his overall plan.
Will Suboshi be back?
In Part III he will make another appearance, if my current plot plan goes as planned.
So the only way to obliterate the demons and put an end to their hideous plan to take over was to summon the beast gods but how in the world is Miaka supposed to do it now without the help of Nakago?
Hmmm… how INDEED… -evil cackle-
Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except the ever-evolving plot. All characters, settings, etc belong to the great and fabulous Yuu Watase.