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Shout-out to 5_Stirling_Heartstrings and Fahda_bs over on AO3! Thank you for your reviews on the previous chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one :)

EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 60: Erem's Vessel

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A month passed with no progress. Sesshoumaru and his inner circle had exhausted the stronghold's resources and combed basically every inch of the country in their search for traces of the Iwa Faction. The closest they'd gotten to an actual lead was a village called Iwa that had once worshipped a deity known as the Radiant One. According to Myoga's sources, the village had switched to Shintoism a few years ago. The reason for the switch was unknown.

Isolated in the smaller study he'd claimed for himself, Sesshoumaru checked the maps again. He hadn't been near his father's study since he'd found Izayoi's letter. Perhaps he ought to send an envoy to the spot where her family's castle had once been, in case there were any clues there. It seemed unlikely that there would be, but he was hesitant to rule it out.

"Sesshoumaru-sama? Are you awake?"

He lifted his head from the pile of maps on the table and saw Rin standing in the doorway. Seeing that he wasn't sleeping, she crossed over the threshold and stopped in front of the table.

"Anything?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head.

Her mood deflated. "It doesn't make any sense," she grumbled. "We should've found something by now. I wonder if Jaken-sama has had better luck than us. Have you heard from him?"

"Not yet. The Eastern Wolf Tribe is quite far away."

Rin nodded sympathetically. "I finally got a reply from Kohaku. He hadn't heard of any of the things I mentioned, but he said he'll look into them. He and Kirara ran into Shippo-chan a while ago, so they've been travelling together. Apparently, Shippo-chan's final task before he graduates from the academy is to find a nine-tailed fox and receive its blessing. They're supposed to be very wise. If they do manage to meet one, maybe it'll know something about the Iwa Faction."

Sesshoumaru certainly didn't envy the young fox. Kyuubi no kitsune were famously unpredictable, and they were known for having a cruel sense of humour. He was positive that his mother had been one in a previous life. She was too cunning and cold-hearted to have been anything else.

"Should we send word to Kagome-onee?" asked Rin.

"Why would we do that?" replied Sesshoumaru.

She shrugged. "Octavia-san is her family. She'll want to make sure she's safe. Plus, she might know something we don't. The more the merrier, right?"

"Hn. Very well. Write to the miko and tell her what has happened."

Smiling, Rin glanced around the room and noticed the untouched bowl on the bookshelf. "When did you last eat?" she asked, frowning when he didn't reply. "You once told me that it was impossible to concentrate on an empty stomach. Go catch yourself a deer or something."

He arched an eyebrow. "Was that an order?"

"Yes."

He fought the urge to smirk. She was becoming more headstrong every day. Having Inuyasha as a role model in her youth definitely hadn't helped. Whenever Sesshoumaru looked at her as of late, he saw remnants of his brother. It was too late to crush them. Rin was almost a woman, meaning she wouldn't be his responsibility for much longer. Should she decide to marry, her duty would be to her husband, not to him. It was selfish of him to want to freeze her at the age she was now, but he was reluctant to see her all grown up and eager to start her life without him.

Change was inevitable. Time was one of the few things he couldn't control. The knowledge was poison. Sesshoumaru dug his claws into his palms. How long did she have left? And what if she got sick? She'd been revived twice now. If she died a third time, it would be for good.

But what about Octavia? Would the Tenseiga even work on her? His mother had told the tajiya boy that the jewel shard in his neck meant he couldn't be revived, so what did that mean for someone with spirit magic? Was she also beyond the Tenseiga's reach? The uncertainty disturbed him greatly. Do you love her? Wanting wasn't the same as loving . . . Or was it?

"All right," sighed Sesshoumaru, rising from his cushion. "I can hardly refuse a direct order from my ward."

Rin's smile returned. "Good. I'll tell Cyril-kun that he can stop worrying about you now."

"He told you that?"

"Not in so many words. He hasn't been himself these past few weeks. When I told him that Octavia-san had been taken, he was really upset. He almost never goes outside anymore. I try to visit him as often as I can. He's always asking after you."

He hadn't realised that Cyril had taken her loss so badly.

"Does he seem unwell?"

"He doesn't have a fever, but he looks paler than usual. I think it's stress."

"I'll arrange for someone to bring him something."

"I already sorted it."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "You're going to put me out of a job soon."

Her smile widened. "Don't be silly. I'm not cut out to be a warlord. My hair isn't close to being shiny enough." She paused before adding, "Rin-sama does have a nice ring to it, though."

Sesshoumaru chuckled softly. Rin's eyes widened in surprise, but she made no further comments. He left her to draft her letter to the miko and flew away from the stronghold, following the scent of game. A pair of eyes watched him leave, then shifted their attention to the wall around the castle.

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Octavia gazed into a water fountain. Her hand wobbled as she concentrated on creating a small sphere and lifting it out of the stone basin. Her magic had turned the water in the sphere purple – like diminished grape juice – but it was still clear and sparkling. The curved surface rippled as it moved, yet she managed not to spill a single drop. Augustus would have been proud.

A servant appeared in the courtyard and leaned forwards in a bow. Octavia released the sphere and watched as it fell back into the fountain with a splash. "Forgive me for interrupting, Your Radiance," the servant said timidly. "But your esteemed brother requests your presence."

"Did he tell you why?"

"He did not."

She abandoned her seat on the edge of the fountain and turned to face the servant. He was a boy around Rin's age, whose name was either Giles or Gregory. She followed him out of the courtyard and down a long corridor. She was used to receiving random summons from Augustus. During the first week, he'd insisted on seeking her out himself, but the novelty had soon worn off. Now, he was content to have her delivered to him like a parcel. Normally, the inhabitants of the kasbah did their best to avoid her, only engaging in conversation when they were asked to escort her somewhere. Despite their polite deference, it was clear which twin they favoured.

Augustus met them at the bottom of a staircase. The servant bowed and scurried away. Augustus smiled at her. As always, she faked a pleasant expression and accepted the arm he offered her. They climbed the stairs wordlessly.

"One of these days, that smile will be genuine," he said, startling her. "You'll see."

"It is genuine," she insisted.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Octavia. I'm not so easily offended."

That's what scares me. He seemed to want to be her punching bag. Did he see it as a means of making amends? If so, he was clearly delusional. There were far too many sins to atone for. It didn't matter how hard he tried to convince her that he meant her no harm. She didn't believe him. Not when the image of Taro's corpse was as clear as a midsummer's day in her head.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "I've never been in this part of the kasbah before."

"There's someone I'd like you to meet. Well, technically, you've already met, but you probably don't remember him. He's been dying to speak to you."

"Why'd you make him wait so long, then?"

"He's in fragile health. I couldn't risk you frightening him."

"Why would I do that? Who is he, anyway?"

Augustus opened a door at the top of the staircase and paused to let her enter first. Suspicious, she walked into the room slowly. The hairs on her arms turned erect, and a cold permeated her body, despite the dry heat of the desert. The room was darker than the rest of the kasbah due to its limited number of windows. There was a man in a wheelchair sitting by a small embrasure. He was either asleep or engrossed in a daydream. Octavia's pulse quickened when she saw the familiar crest on his robes. It was the same as the ones she'd seen scattered throughout the kasbah and on the cover of the Book of Four Souls.

"Is that you, Gus?" the man asked softly.

"Yes, Uncle," he answered.

"There's someone with you this time. Who is it?"

Augustus nudged her gently.

"My name's Octavia," she said. "I'm his twin sister."

The man wheezed and waved her closer. She glanced sideways at Augustus – who nodded – before tiptoeing towards the man in the wheelchair. Stopping just in front of him, she got down on one knee and looked into his eyes. Instead of black, his pupils were a cloudy grey.

"This is our uncle, Galen," explained Augustus. "You two were the only ones who survived the fire. He managed to escape through the cellar, but not before being ravaged by the flames. Fortunately, our healers were able to cure his burns, but his eyesight was beyond repair."

"Are you really her?" Galen croaked, groping for her hands. "Are you my Vee?"

Octavia stilled his shaking hands with her own and gave them a comforting squeeze. "I am."

His quaking lips curved into a smile. "I missed you, little one."

Just as she was about to respond, Asuka appeared in the doorway. Her expression was deadly serious, and her posture was rigid and stiff. Stiffer than usual. When she spoke, her voice sounded tense and strained. "I hate to intrude, but can I borrow you for a moment, sir?"

Augustus frowned, annoyed at the interruption. "Can't it wait?"

"I'm afraid it can't. It's about Ryukotsusei's—"

Frowning harder, he cut her off before she could finish. "Fine. But talk fast."

Octavia's brow crinkled as the pair quickly left the room. She could hear them both speaking in hushed tones outside the door, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Galen suddenly tightened his grip on her hands. "Is he gone?" he whispered.

Octavia blinked. "Who, Augustus?"

"Yes. Can he hear us? And keep your voice down."

"Sorry. I don't think so. Why?"

His hands trembled around hers. "Listen to me very carefully. You must leave this place. It's not safe for you here, little one. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't told you yet, has he? If he had, he wouldn't be able to control you."

"What are you talking about?" she hissed. "Told me what?"

His grip was painful now. "After its battle with the Shadow, the Radiant One's body started to shut down. It would've died if not for our ancestors. They offered their bloodline as hosts, which led to the Radiant One claiming a human body as its own. A vessel, so to speak."

Octavia released a shuddering breath.

"That's what Erem's Vessel is," he continued, trapping her with his milky pupils. "That's what you are, Vee. You and Gus. There's never been more than one host at the same time before. It should be impossible. Yet here you are. In a way, it's what's kept you alive this long. The previous hosts all perished before they reached adulthood. It makes sense given the context. Half the power, half the burden."

"Stop it," she murmured, breathing harshly. "You're just making stuff up—"

"It's the truth. Please, listen to me. The Church has given up on the idea that the Radiant One will someday return, but Gus hasn't. Officially, the role of Erem's Vessel is to act as a stand-in for the deity, but Gus wasn't satisfied with that. He doesn't intend to act as the Radiant One's most loyal servant . . . He intends to become the Radiant One. For that to happen, he needs you."

"Why?"

"Two halves are required to make a whole."

Nauseous, Octavia twisted her hands out of Galen's and staggered backwards. "You're crazy," she said, keeping her voice low.

"If you want proof, find your father's spellbooks. One of them talks about a ritual called the Binding. For obvious reasons, I haven't read it since before the fire, but you won't think I'm crazy after you've learned the details of the procedure. Be warned, it's quite horrendous."

"I don't—"

Augustus re-entered the room, silencing her mid-sentence. Galen's mien turned warm and he smiled at his nephew. The colour drained from her face as Augustus came to stand beside her. He seemed mildly irritated, although he managed to return his uncle's convincing albeit dishonest smile. "Octavia?" he called gently, noticing her shell-shocked expression. "What's wrong?"

Her heart stuttered for a moment or so, before she answered, "My head's spinning. And my stomach hurts, too. I think I need to lie down."

"Are you in pain?"

"Not a lot. I'm mostly dizzy."

"Can you walk?"

Augustus reached for her shoulders to steady her, but she recoiled away so fiercely that his hands never made contact with her skin. Thankfully, he didn't take the rejection personally.

"I'll manage," she said, trying not to snap at him.

"Such a pity," Galen muttered. "Get plenty of rest, little one."

"I will."

"I'll be looking forward to your next visit."

Augustus accompanied her back to her room, fretting about her health for the entirety of the walk there. Apparently, their mother had had a heart problem, which explained why he was being so intense. She told him to relax and that she was probably just tired, so he insisted on having the servants bring her something to help her sleep. Unfortunately, she had no such plans.

That night, she paced restlessly, processing the information Galen had risked everything to give her. Unless it was part of an elaborate ruse orchestrated by her brother. Was he testing her loyalty? She'd been cold to him, yes, but she hadn't done anything that would arouse suspicion.

If you want proof, find your father's spellbooks.

Where could they be? The obvious answer was Augustus's private quarters, but no one was permitted to enter them. She couldn't just barge in and trash the place. If what Galen had said about him was true, he wouldn't take kindly to someone rummaging through his things, regardless of their intentions. He hasn't told you yet, has he? If he had, he wouldn't be able to control you.

Her stomach was in knots. She'd known all along that he wasn't a good person, but a tiny part of her had hoped it was a role he was being forced to play. Deep down, she'd wanted him to be the family she'd always dreamed of. Instead, he was worse than she could have ever imagined.

The circlet was still on her bedside table. She picked it up and launched it through the window, not caring if it broke. Its appearance might fool the others, but she saw it for what it was – a gilded constraint. She refused to be another one of his prisoners.

It was imperative that she found those books.

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