In Time, Death

By Alesyira

Cursed

- 1988 -

"What's all that?" Kagome asked Gatai one morning a few days later. Their practice sessions had gone exceptionally well after Angara had introduced her to the little stuffed bear. The enchantment had done wonders for understanding her magic and how it could be controlled. Without it, the magic still raged beyond her control, but it was nice to know it could eventually be possible.

Gatai shrugged in response, adjusting his grip on a heavy-looking box. "Stuff that might come in handy today." He trudged up the platform stairs and pulled some items out of the box. "We're going to try and trigger your curse later today so Angara can take a look at the magic. Are you okay with that?"

Kagome folded her arms but nodded resolutely.

While Gatai worked on setting up whatever random items he'd brought with him, Angara guided her through practice with the easier skills they'd worked on before. Her attention wavered frequently as he drew all over the platform, occasionally cursing and sending sections up in flames.

Gatai eventually waved them over to see his work. While Kagome was hopeful that they might get some good information from whatever happened, she dreaded what the immediate outcome might be, especially since she doubted that either of them would have the necessary skills to cure her of any sort of magical malady.

She took a deep breath and released it. They were trying to help in good faith, so she'd give it a try and hope for the best.

Gatai motioned for her to sit in the middle of a circle of runes he'd painstakingly drawn in white chalk. "Is that salt?" she asked, pointing to the mound of sparkling crystals that surrounded the careful drawings.

He nodded. "I used some old reference texts and put together a variety of protections against curses, just in case we're dealing with something unexpected. Angara should have most of the magic covered. I also have an assortment of paraphernalia right over there in case something else happens. A mirror of binding, a silver blade of severing, a few holy texts, blessed water… the works."

Kagome fought to hold back a chuckle. "Do we need an old priest and a young priest?"

Gatai tilted his head with an arched eyebrow. "There's only us available, and I thought you were a priestess?"

She sighed. The movie reference had flown right over his head. "So, what do you have in mind?"

"Don't you worry about it," he grinned, his confusion forgotten. "Just sit there and meditate. Angara will keep you from doing anything too dangerous."

Fire unexpectedly burned through her chest, engulfing her lungs as she coughed out a gasping protest. Kagome wasn't sure what to expect from someone other than Shippo or Hiei tweaking her curse into activity, but it certainly wasn't that. Her powers fizzled and sparked, failing to protect her mind, and a bright flare of light was the last thing she saw before her vision went dark.

Some time later, she sucked in a startled breath with the sudden return of awareness, falling into a heap of limbs as she dropped unexpectedly to the ground. She picked herself up, blinking with confusion as the other two watched her with neutral expressions.

She dusted chalk from her palms and glanced at them from the corner of her eyes. They were both still a safe distance away. "What happened?" she asked, dreading the answer. She was somewhat mollified to discover the precautions Gatai had drawn around the platform remained mostly untouched.

Angara shifted and settled more comfortably, draping an arm over her knee. "You are sick."

The wording made Kagome cringe as she remembered her awful arrival less than a week before. "Well, yeah," she grumbled. "didn't you see the pile of vomit I left in the middle of that training room?"

Gatai snorted and looked away, muttering, "I certainly did."

Angara irritably pushed at Gatai's shoulder before turning back to her with a kind smile. "Not like that. You are carrying something that breaks." She hummed quietly and examined her fingertips with measured nonchalance. "Do you want the good news or the bad news, first?"

Gatai rolled his eyes.

Kagome sighed aloud, clinging desperately to the thought that there was any good news to share at all. "It doesn't matter, just tell me."

"This curse, and we agree it's most definitely that, is a corruption. It changes your natural inclination by removing any self-control. An angry response can become recklessly violent, perhaps even murderous. In your case, perhaps a little less murderous, but no less violent."

Kagome flinched a little, pressing a hand to her face with mortification. She hoped she hadn't done or said something awful. She wondered how much Angara had picked up by examining the curse in action, and if she might be able to help her understand why her response was so weird.

"And in better news, we believe the curse can be broken."

Kagome jumped to her feet and clapped her hands with a wide grin. "That's the best news!"

Angara waved for her to sit back down, but Kagome's enthusiasm was far too great as she danced in place. Angara frowned in dismay before she announced the detail that mattered: "The curse is only broken if you die."

The happiness fell off Kagome's face as she stumbled and landed on her butt. "Wait," she gasped, the breath momentarily knocked out of her. "...what?"

"This dark magic is tied between your blood and your spirit. Its grip can only be broken with your death, specifically when your spirit and body are no longer connected, which will break the ties that permit it to survive."

Without really thinking about it, her hand found the tiny marks on her neck where the kitsune had bitten her. "My blood? What does that have to do with anything?"

Angara arched an eyebrow, her gaze briefly flicking to Kagome's mouth. "A few moments ago while you were afflicted by the curse's activation, you intentionally harmed yourself to draw blood, and traces of that dark magic followed where the blood spilled."

Kagome self-consciously brought one of her hands to her lips, but could find no trace of injury.

Angara waved at where she sat. "There are droplets beneath you that are still tainted with the magic."

Kagome pushed her hair back and stared down at the tiny spots of crimson. How could...?

"So long as you live," Angara continued, "the curse can spread in such a way. It breaks much of who you are, and could easily turn anyone afflicted into a mindless weapon that causes some form of self-destruction to continue its spread."

Gatai shifted uncomfortably. "Any warm-blooded being would be hard-pressed to turn down the requests coming outta your mouth just a few minutes ago. My dear, you are a walking plague in very pretty camouflage."

Kagome dropped her head into her palms. Shit. How could she fix something if the only solution was death? "Aside from dying, is there anything else I can do? Maybe something to make it more manageable?"

Angara exchanged a glance with Gatai as he shrugged with his reply, "Get stronger, protect yourself from everything, and don't bleed on anyone?"

Kagome crossed her arms with an irritated scowl. "Ha, so simple! Why didn't I think of that…"

Angara tilted her head to the side. "Your pink energy, the purity magic, is perhaps your greatest asset against this threat, and your best chance for suppression. It's the only reason you do not behave strangely at all hours of the day. You have been using it to burn back the traces of the curse?" she asked.

Kagome nodded, glancing down at her fingertips.

"I used that same magic to push back the reaction so you could wake up."

Kagome bit her lip. "Normally I have some control over my magic and can fight back as soon as I recognize it's happening." She released a long sigh. "I need a lot more practice, I guess."

Angara took Kagome's hand and helped her to stand, waving Gatai away.

They watched for a moment as he gathered his random items back into the box. Kagome wondered if he'd had a chance to use any of his fancy supplies to keep her from doing anything outlandish.

Angara drew close and lowered her voice. "There is something more you can do, but it pains me to suggest such a thing. It would not to make your curse easier to bear, but…" she hesitated. "If you can gain better understanding and control of your magic, you will be equipped to defend yourself, which means you would be at less risk of succumbing to the triggers for your curse."

Kagome nodded slowly, mildly irritated. It was a given that becoming stronger, understanding more, and learning control were the solutions for so many problems.

"I despise implying that you need someone to help you grow and improve, but you will not have decades to hone your abilities before they are needed, and despite the stories you may have heard, I am not a miracle worker."

Kagome's mouth curved into a small smile as her mood lifted. It was a heartening reminder that she wasn't the only one that had their flaws ignored while their abilities were praised. It wasn't hard to imagine how much worse it could be for someone like Angara.

Shippo had really made her sound like the answer to all of her problems. Kagome blinked back the surprising onset of tears to put a thankful hand on the older woman's shoulder. Even knowing she wasn't the answer to her prayers, Kagome still appreciated the progress she'd made with their guidance over the last few days.

Her good mood dimmed, though, at the idea that she ultimately might not have enough time to learn everything. She bit her lip and glanced at Angara, wondering if she should bring up that errant thought of turning back her own age to have more time.

"The seals you wear share the burden by disrupting the excess. You still have power, but it doesn't freely run amok. Without the seal, the power flows and affects both you and your surroundings in a way you are unable to control. As we have seen, when you intentionally share your burden, the magic becomes something more manageable."

"I don't understand why though. Shouldn't more power just make skills and abilities more powerful?"

Angara shrugged. "Your gift… I believe it has passed through too many hands."

Kagome stared at her with a little bit of shock.

"If you are the guardian that has been chosen, then perhaps, unfettered, it is just too much for one person to use. If sharing your burden has helped you thus far, then perhaps you should consider a more permanent solution, another to help you carry its weight as you improve your control."

Someone else? Kagome shook her head in disbelief, wondering what this woman could possibly mean. But… "You told me this magic is like yours," Kagome said, watching her carefully. If this magic is not unique, then she must have…

Angara shook her head before Kagome could say or think anything more. "My magic has only ever been in my control. Your stories made it clear that the power left your hands for some time, and I believe that journey allowed it to grow and change."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "This time magic hasn't always been a thing, though. The first seal broke months ago, but the weird time thing didn't start happening for at least a few weeks after that."

Angara's expression was strange as she stared through Kagome, her eyes on the magic she could see swirling brightly through her chest. "Many forces affect the course of our lives, and not just the things of which we are aware."

Kagome pushed back a wave of frustration. She'd learned so much from this woman, and it felt like they were on the verge of one last revelation, but the stories were taking the scenic route instead of getting to the point. "So did you have to do something similar when you were younger? Share your burden?"

Angara turned away, but not quickly enough to hide the secretive smile that slid across her lips. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Kagome felt silly to assume she'd needed help. "Of course, you've been alive long enough to learn control."

"Yes and no." Angara peered back at the girl through a narrow gap in her long hair. Kagome shook her head, trying to hide her growing frustration. "I don't understand."

Angara shrugged casually and smiled again, flashing her scary-sharp teeth. "You don't need to understand. We are who we are, and where we come from matters less than what we do with the lives we are granted."

Angara led her to the edge of the platform as she continued to speak. "I did not need to share my burden, because without someone to work with, my power is capable of nothing. I stumbled a few times in my youth while learning control, but I had decades to practice before I could be considered an adult and left without supervision."

Angara gestured out over the forest below them. A bright white tip of carved stone poked out from the canopy of trees, and Kagome realized they were looking at the anchor that protected this small community of students and teachers. "The magics working together within that structure are in harmony, balanced with one another. The barrier that guards us is not all-powerful because one single energy or spell is very strong. It is because those magics work together and support the weakest links. When you lessen your burden with an inanimate object like a seal or an enchantment, the magic does not overwhelm you, and you are even able to take hold of the power and sway it to your will. When you share your burden with another being and their energy harmonizes with your own to support your actions, it can become effortless."

A little chill prickled down her body. Effortless. "I'll have to keep my friends close," she murmured.

Angara turned to her with an odd light in her eyes. "No, this is what I meant before. You will not always have someone to hold your hand. You must consider something more permanent, like these anchors," she waved a hand toward the bright white spot below them, "so that you are free to leave the sides of your allies without worrying about who might be able to aid you in an unexpected time of need."

Kagome paused and stared at Angara with a blank expression.

"Long ago, you gave Shippo a very large portion of your magic. It stayed with him permanently, did it not?"

Kagome nodded slowly, wondering if she could hand off a chunk of the jewel's power in the same way.

"That share ultimately benefited nobody, despite what he might tell you. Having your magic may have given him an unexpected edge against his enemies, but it also limited his natural abilities. It was not an equal exchange."

The pieces were beginning to come together in Kagome's mind as Angara continued to speak. "A similar gift of this other magic might temporarily help you and the recipient, but unless it is a harmonious exchange, you will not find the balance to bolster your control."

"If I share this magic with someone, would it end up weaker as a result?"

Angara arched an eyebrow. "Have your other skills suffered because of what you shared with Shippo?"

Kagome shook her head in response. She couldn't really tell anything had changed.

"Magic is not a finite resource. Even if all of one's reserves are used in a great battle, eventually the power is restored. Permanently giving away a portion of your magic will not permanently leave you with less. Over time, it will eventually return to this overflowing state." She spread her arms wide. "The harmony in the sharing will be where you find your control." The way Angara spoke of exchanging energies, sharing a burden with someone permanently, it sounded like… Her face turned pink as she stared at Angara. "What are you suggesting?"

Angara's cheeks turned violet as she met her eyes. "Find someone you trust, get cozy, and let the magic fly. You've done it at least once before."

Kagome blanched. Surely she wasn't suggesting the most obvious solution Shippo and Hiei had been awkwardly working around for those few days together, but if she was… "I really don't know what you're saying I should do."

The giggle that erupted out of Angara's throat sounded a bit like birdsong. "It should be someone you want to keep. The sharing will only stick if you want to keep that person."

She'd shared at Shippo because she'd wanted him to live. She hadn't been able to fathom what it might mean to not have him in her life. She understood what Angara was suggesting, but… "If I tried doing that with Shippo again, now, with the way my magic is behaving because of that curse," she waved her hands, her face on fire, "things might happen."

Angara's laughter was immediate and bright. "You do not have to share with Shippo. It can be anyone. Perhaps the one that gifted you with the touch of fire." She gently touched a clawed fingertip to the fabric over Kagome's heart, and she felt her cheeks darken with the memory of her brief moments with Hiei. "But to worry that things will happen? Of course there will be such things! Exchanging magic is a highly personal activity, completely different from the efforts one might make to heal or harm another. It is sharing the essence of what you are, to give away a piece of yourself and to keep a piece of someone else within you."

Angara sensed Kagome's growing distress and waved her hand in amusement. "This is not necessarily a romantic connection. Very close friends have done such things, although those few instances that I know of, I wonder if there wasn't something more to their friendship," she muttered, looking thoughtful.

"No, but I mean—" Kagome stammered.

Angara cut her off with a swift flick of her fingers. "I know what you mean. This is not taking a mate to bind souls and share a lifespan, or marrying, or whatever you humans do when you are ready to settle down and have children. You made it quite clear that's not in your immediate future. This is a magical connection." She considered Kagome and the magic she struggled to contain with the enchanted stuffed animal's help. "I would not be surprised if you needed to share more than once to find the proper balance."

Kagome's brain tripped over itself, but Angara quickly regained her attention by putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard. "Remember this: your magic will eventually regenerate, but whomever you choose to share this burden with will retain their gift unless you discover how to take it back. Do not approach such a thing lightly. Be certain."

Kagome nodded, rubbing her forehead in a futile effort to hold back a growing headache. "If Shippo and I manage to balance ourselves with a better exchange of power, will the magic I gave him forever ago stop holding him back?"

Angara shrugged lightly and released the grip on her shoulder. "Your magic has not killed him, so I suppose there is nothing to lose if you should try."

Kagome turned her gaze over the horizon, wondering if she could fix what she accidentally broke by doing things the right way. It would be nice to know he could keep his treasures and regain that which he'd been unintentionally denied.

"Even if I could return today," she murmured, "he won't meet this version of me for a long time. I'll do my best to fix him when we are together again."

Angara nodded with a calm expression. "See that you do." Her voice had an edge to it that made Kagome worry just a bit.

"I had another question. A thought, although it might be a terrible idea." Kagome said, folding her arms over her chest. How to word this? "If I'm risking accidentally aging myself, is it possible to do the opposite? To reduce my age and live much longer than I should?"

Her mentor frowned and threaded sharp claws through her hair to flick it back over a shoulder. "It could be possible. The idea that you might alter the age of your arm, a lung, or even your skin so badly that it results in death is relevant whether the time moves forwards or backwards. The way in which the body ages is still mostly unknown, whether it is portions of the brain that synchronize the processes of the body or perhaps the organs losing their ability to regenerate dying cells. You might be able to make your skin look young, but something like your heart could cease functioning for a mysterious reason, and you'd still perish."

Angara turned a thoughtful gaze over the distant trees far below. "If you could somehow reverse time equally for your entire being, would it not stand to reason that the memories you've made over the last few days, months, years… those would all disappear as well?"

So much for me being a fountain of youth, Kagome grinned with a bit of self-depreciation. "It makes sense."

"There is much to think on, and many opportunities ahead of you," Angara said, putting a gentle hand on Kagome's shoulder. "We'll return in the morning for more practice."

After Angara left for the evening, Kagome walked quietly back to the cabin, her attention split between two ideas that seemed pretty impossible. Fixing Shippo when she got home felt like a pretty big priority, although breaking the curse should probably happen first.

She suppressed a shudder. Maybe she could talk to some people about temporary death.

Advances in medicine could probably make that happen without too much trouble, and if not at a hospital, she could ask someone like Koenma to help her out. Who knew what kind of weird spirit magic those guys had?

It couldn't hurt to ask.

It might hurt to try, but she didn't really want to think about what might happen should a temporary death become a permanent one.

The bear was set aside on the small dinner table. Her attempts to clean it had gone about as well as she'd expected, and she'd ended up repairing an exposed break in its stitching after enough dirt had been washed away. Its shining button eyes stared blankly at her as she slid into a chair and snagged a fruit.

"What?" she asked it, feeling ridiculous for talking to a stuffed animal. It seemed better to feel silly than to feel lonely, though. She curled an arm around her torso and took a bite, chewing slowly as she stared daggers at her pouch, willing the device hidden in its depths to make some kind of noise to indicate it was no longer broken.

She rolled the apple's remnants around in her hands, deliberately drawing out the last of her evening. She'd probably be starving in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to eat much more once the fruit had been nibbled down to the core.

She showered quickly and threw on some pajamas, only vaguely curious what the next day might have in store for her. She lingered outside her room and glanced at her pouch, wondering if the vesper had been telling her the same message for a week to teach her to stop being so attached to her new and fancy technology.

That's ridiculous, she chided herself, strolling across the cabin floor to peek inside at the dimly lit display.

The error message was gone.