Voices of the Past
The tearing and howling of the winds wrapped around Kagome so tightly they stole the very air that she breathed. But as one with the spirit realm, there was no need for air, only the mortal consciousness that breathing was necessary and that without it she could not survive. She struggled against the onslaught, finally giving in to her mortal fear and lashing out at the invisible winds with her body and her mind, throwing power recklessly into the formless, substanceless trappings that held her bound helplessly in their midst.
She tried to move, but her feet were no longer touching the ground, as though she were once again caught in an endless freefall, unable to break away. She screamed then, fear becoming all she knew; but her voice was lost in the endless howling, joining with it, rising the pitch to a terrible cadence that seemed to consume everything. The sound was all she knew, the howling anguish that tore through her very soul.
Trapped in chaos, lost in misery, alone and helpless against the anguish and suffering. She was one with the damned, a tortured soul crying out as they did against their never-ending torment.
But no. Somewhere in the chaos, somewhere amidst the suffering and the turmoil, somewhere in the darkness enclosing upon her; she knew. She knew she was not a part of this place, knew that she was more than a sprit carried upon those terrible winds, knew that she had been brought here for a purpose, knew that she was still needed.
A flicker of light appeared suddenly in the distance, something so out of place in the raging torment around her it seemed like a mirage, a false beacon of hope. But still she reached out to it, desperate to be freed from the madness that tore at her from all sides, unable to turn away from the light of hope no matter how tiny and frail. The light grew brighter, calming the restless winds around her as it wrapped her in its gentle warmth; and the terrible howling faded into the distance, becoming nothing more than a faint echo on the breeze.
Slowly, the light began to fade, steadily being taken over by the shadows being cast by the walls around her. But the winds had died, their terrible madness cleared away and leaving her free to see and hear once more. When her vision finally cleared, Kagome looked around her, peering into the hazy darkness. As before, she stood in the chamber in the underground crypt. Faint illumination was being cast against the dark stone walls by a scattering of torches left discarded to burn themselves out on the cavern floor. There was silence here, deep and penetrating, so deathly still when compared to the turbulent thunder of the howling winds from which she had emerged. She could hear the sound of her own breathing sharply in stillness, short gasping breaths that never seemed to draw in enough air.
"Rin?" she called the girl's name hesitantly, her hushed voice echoing back to her off the stone. But there was no answer to her query, not even the haunting laughter which had led her to this place.
Kagome looked around in confusion. What had happened? Why had the spirit abandoned her now when she was so close to finding out the truth of what had happened? Was there something she was supposed to learn from those terrible winds, some message she simply couldn't hear in the turbulence and the madness? Had she lost her connection with the girl?
"Please," she called out desperately. She needed to know how the spirits had been trapped here, needed to understand what had happened. "Answer me."
"You think you can save her even now?"
The voice came so suddenly and so unexpectedly, that Kagome jumped in fright. She spun around hastily to see the one that had spoken, only to find herself looking into a mirror, but a mirror distorted by time and altered by presence. It wasn't the image of herself she was seeing. Rather, it was Kikyo.
In her daze at finding the chamber occupied by another presence, Kagome fumbled to form words. But before she had even formed a coherent thought, another voice broke through the stillness to give a reply.
"Why give her life again when it would only be plagued by such dark remembrances?"
His voice seemed to fill the space of the crypt; the smooth tenor only just concealing the raw vibrations of hungry power just beneath the surface. Dazedly, Kagome turned to face him. He stepped out of the dark shadows, just as proud and strong as she had always seen him. But his eyes, the piercing gold that could send shivers down the spines of mortal men with only a look, were darkened on this night, and it was not because of the depths in which they stood.
"Sesshomaru…" His name slipped from her lips unbidden, a soft whisper filled with sympathy for his loss.
Something flashed in his eyes at the sound of her voice, something more than the fires lighting the cavern. But he did not turn to look at her, didn't even make any acknowledgement of her presence. His eyes remained focused on the undead miko, piercing the distance between them like blades of golden fire.
"You would deny her life?" Kikyo asked in a dark whisper. "Then perhaps you will not care to know that I have taken her death as well." She lifted her hand, placing it above her breast, and from within her false body of clay a faint glow emanated.
"Kikyo," Kagome whispered in horror, "You monster."
But the dead miko did not turn to the sound of her voice, couldn't hear the words spoken by the living priestess in the present. And Kagome understood. She knew now what the spirit had done. She had been taken back to that moment in time, to witness herself the events that had transpired. She would watch, and she would learn. She was being shown the secrets carried by the dead through their eyes.
Kikyo's threat didn't even faze Sesshomaru. He took a threatening step forward, advancing on the dead miko with obvious intent. "You will release her." It was a command, one for which there was no room for deviancy.
"Or what?" Kikyo scoffed in return. "You will kill me? It is too late for that."
A slow, vengeful smirk spread across Sesshomaru's lips in response to her words. "Foolish creature; even the dead can not escape my wrath."
"Perhaps," Kikyo replied unconcernedly. "But kill me, and you will be condemning this child's spirit to burn in hell for all eternity. By your own hand will she suffer again and again the terrors she endured on this night, the terrors enforced upon her by your failure."
A low growl broke out of Sesshomaru then, filling the cavern with its dangerous vibrations. "You are sealing your fate by your words here, wench."
"My fate?" She smiled at the word, but it was a smile filled with hatred. "It is not my fate we are discussing. It is hers, and it is yours."
"Enough!" Stepping towards her again, Sesshomaru flexed his claws at his side. "This Sesshomaru will hear no more of your wretched words and pathetic attempts at maneuvering."
"Then I will make it simple for you, Sesshomaru," Kikyo replied. "I propose a trade: her soul for yours."
In a movement so fast it couldn't be registered, Sesshomaru had closed the gap between him and Kikyo. His clawed hand wrapped around her neck in an unyielding grip, lifting her roughly to dangle in the air before him. "You are a fool of a woman to even think to try and manipulate this Sesshomaru," he bit out in a voice tarnished by the deep vibrations of the beast.
She didn't struggle in his hold, didn't try to remove herself from his deadly claws, didn't so much flinch when he began applying pressure against her unnatural skin. She simply locked her cold, dead eyes onto his, never wavering from her air of confidence and superiority.
"What does it matter to one who is dead?" she bit out coolly. "I tire of this repulsive existence. I want a life, a real life."
Sesshomaru lifted his lip in disgust as he glared down at the dead miko. "Impossible. You are of the dead. You can not live again."
Kikyo tilted her chin up defiantly from within his iron hold. "You are wrong," she told him firmly. "I live now. From the souls of the dead, I can sustain myself. But with a living soul, I will finally be free."
"Then you are more of a fool than I would have thought," Sesshomaru scoffed. Without warning, he shifted, throwing her from his grasp to slam into the rock walls of the cave. Towering above her crumpled form, he glared murderously down upon her. "This Sesshomaru would never give in to the likes of you."
Laughter began to spread out through the cavern, low and wicked, but growing in volume as Kikyo began to pull her broken body of clay away from the stone. "Then she shall never be free," she hissed out between vile bouts of laughter. "Her spirit shall be consumed within me, starving as I feed upon her." Using the wall to steady herself, Kikyo finally turned back to Sesshomaru, her eyes finding his to speak to him without words of the darkness that sustained her preternatural form. "And when there is nothing left, when her soul is useless to me any longer; then I shall cast her into oblivion, leaving her only with the knowledge that the one she loved so dearly was the one that had condemned her."
"Vengeful spirit!" Sesshomaru rasped in fury. "Death is too merciful for the likes of you!"
The earth trembled as it was forced to bear the burden of his wrath. Crimson fire spread like lightning to sear everything in its path. And in the centre of the raging fire a spark was ignited that burned so brightly it rivaled the sun. White-hot, it cut its path without remorse. Driven not by hatred or anger or for revenge; it was love that guided the Fang of Heaven to save a soul trapped by the clammy hands of death.
Kikyo's scream of horror was lost in the song of the pulsing blade, her anguish not of its purpose nor care. It pierced her unliving flesh like it was nothing, tearing through to the very spirit which gave her unnatural life. And it was to that spirit, that formed of so many others who had been denied their rest, that Tenseiga bound itself.
The raging fire began to subside, and Sesshomaru stepped away from the one that had brought this curse upon one of such a pure heart. His hand left the hilt of the sword embedded in the stone, the sword that had pierced the dark heart of the walking dead.
"May you live forever."
His words were spoken into the darkness, a curse and a prayer in one. And then he turned and began walking away.
"It can't…" Kagome sobbed heavily and fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face at the unspeakable things she had just seen. "It can't end like this," she chocked out. "There must be another way."
On the other side of the chamber, Sesshomaru paused. His head tilted slightly to the side as though he were listening for a breath, but then he shook his head and continued on.
"There is no other way," his voice carried back through the darkness.
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This chapter was the key to making this story work, and also the reason I knew what was going to happen before it happened. I knew that I couldn't walk into a story of such complexity without having a good way to pull it all together, and, thanks to my all time favorite prop from any media, I found it. So, I hope everyone enjoyed my toils. I should be wrapping this story up in another chapter or so.
But that's all for tonight. So later.
Shadow
