Author: Maraba L.
E-mail: woad_isatis@yahoo.com
Last Modified: 07/25/01
Title: The Innkeeper's Daughter
Type of work: fanfiction: drama/romance
Spoilers: none yet.
Warnings: mature subject matter, lemonish, language, violence
Keywords: Tasuki, Chichiri
Chapter 4
Tasuki moaned, back arching as Rowan raked sharp nails down his back, "Please...no more..." he cried, every fiber of his body alight with a searing pain. "Please...stop." his hips thrust savagely into her governed by a rhythm that he neither initiated nor controlled.
"More...must have more." The woman moaned arching beneath him, running her nails down his tight ass. "So rich." she purred.
Tasuki cried out and sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat.
"Yokatta!" Chichiri swore softly, bending over him. The monk looked as though he had not slept in days. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked very haggard. "Do you have any idea how long you've been unconscious?"
Tasuki blinked, trying to focus his eyes, groaning at the ache in every part of his body. "What happened?" he croaked hoarsely, one hand reaching out to grip the monk's wrist spasmodically.
"You've been unconscious for three days." The elder seishi said grimly. "You don't remember anything?"
Tasuki shook his head, "Only that the sleeping potion I gave Rowan didn't work. Shit!" he cursed softly, trying to pull himself into a sitting position, closing his eyes as the world began to spin dangerously.
"Easy." Chichiri steadied him and helped him to sit up. "I found you in the forest. Your chi was so weak that..."the monk paled, " it was almost imperceptible. I ...for a moment I thought you were dead." He admitted. "I wouldn't have found you at all if not for Isatis."
Tasuki stared at the monk, "How ...what does she have to do with it...." he groaned again.
Chichiri sighed and handed the younger seishi a glass of water. "Three days ago Isatis disappeared as well."
The bandit-seishi shook his head trying to clear his senses, "Wait, if she disappeared how did she help you find me?"
The monk sighed, "I was visited in a dream..."
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Tasuki looked at the monk like he'd gone insane, " a dream?"
Chichiri sighed, "Please, Tasuki...I'll explain everything, no da...just...bear with me."
Tasuki looked at the monk and with a pang realized that his friend had probably not slept at all for the past few days, "Ano, Chichiri...I'm sorry..."
The monk smiled wanly, "It's ok...but I think I know what's going on... at least part of it. When I couldn't find you, I started looking for Isatis. She was gone, as was Rowan. I wasn't able to locate either one of you even with magic." There was an anguished look in his eyes as he began to recount the events of the past few days...
Two days previous...
Chichiri slumped against the wall of the building, running a hand through his bangs, face contorting in frustration. He'd been over every inch of the town to no avail. "Where are you, Tasuki, no da?" he whispered to himself, closing his eye briefly, as he slid down the wall in exhaustion.
The wind picked up slightly and the monk shifted, letting the refreshing breezes wash over his body. After a few moments of rest, he sighed and opened his eye then leapt up into a battle ready crouch with a startled gasp, gazing around in shock. For Chichiri was no longer in the alley. When he opened his eye what surrounded him was a surreal landscape of shifting hues and patterns, a cacophony of delicately spun light and shadow as seemingly fragile as a spider's web and it glowed with an eerie phosphorescence that made his blood sing.
Chichiri knew this place, not well, but he knew it. It was an in-between place, a place neither of the physical world nor apart from it, a place where power flowed like water from a rushing stream and doors both benevolent and malign were opened. What he didn't know is how he had gotten there.
Straightening up, he began to examine his eldritch surroundings, taking a moment to find his center in the wildly shifting currents of this magical realm. Looking around, he spied a faint lavender glow that flickered and danced, curling first around him before disappearing into the landscape to reappear, almost as though it was beckoning him to follow. Amidst the strange whispering harmonies, rising from each eddying shadow and glimmering strand, the monk heard his name, chiming with a potent, inexplicably compelling force.
Cautiously, Chichiri began following. Soon the amethyst mist rose to dance around him, carrying him foward. "Do you see?" it whispered. "Do you know? The key is here." the mist parted before him to reveal a gaping chasm, a wound in the fabric of place and time, jagged and torn, scarred and mangled. "Thus has it ever been." The voice whispered. "For eons, from before the beginning." Chichiri shuddered as something black, ichorous and vile began crawling out of the chasm.
The amethyst mist coalesced into a woman's form, regal of bearing, stern of countenance. "Across the planes of being, there have ever been those places wherein being must battle corruption and it is your world which all to often pays the price."
The images before him shifted, revealing two women, wiry, strong who radiated a diamond-hard power. "Guardians were chosen." The being at his side continued. "Entrusted with the duty of holding back corruption." The monk stared riveted as images of battle and destruction played themselves out before his eyes.
"One family was bound to this land, this place, a sacred oath passed down from mother to daughter, father to son. And in this place..." The images before the man tumbled one into the other, each dying warrior being replaced by another, younger guardian-sworn. "She is the last." The image of Isatis appeared before the roiling gateway.
The monk stared in shock, "You mean ...she is a guardian of the land? But..." he shook his head confused and the figure beside him grew somber.
"Be not deceived by fragile appearances. Of all her line, she alone survived to serve. Her blood is thick with the power of her ancestors." Black tendrils slithered from the gaping maw before the girl, winding up her arms and legs, piercing her flesh, binding her to the corrupted crevasse.
"Stop it!! Do something!!" Chichiri cried out as the girl's face contorted in a silent mask of agony, a shadowy form rising behind her from the pit.
Unmoved, the woman at his side continued, "Long before life, this one chose to drink of my waters, to fortify herself with my power. I do not choose often, but I choose very well." The images before him vanished. "Many years ago," she continued, "this family attempted to close the gateway you observed. They failed." Her countenance grew grim. "And in losing that battle, the gateway came under the control of those beings who thrive only on chaos and destruction. You call them demons but before the Courts of Heaven they are denied the acknowledgement of a name. The family, which had for generations guarded this boundary, was exterminated save one." Again the image of Isatis coalesced before him, flickering in the tides of power commanded by the being at his side. "While she lives, they cannot fully command the gateway and yet, though the magic in her blood has yet to blossom fully, until this point she could not be killed. While the Guardian lives, these creatures have limited substance on your plane of being." The woman sighed heavily. "Sadly, that is no longer the case."
Chichiri regarded the being, concern etched plainly on his face. "What do you mean? What has changed?" he had a sick, twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach, the image of Isatis impaled upon malignant filaments, writhing in anguish burned into his consciousness.
"What rose up out of the pit to devour my chosen warriors, assumed their flesh. They have existed in a place that is neither of this realm nor of yours, luring passers-by with promises of pleasure and wealth. They feed on the gifted, destroying those with magic who have the misfortune to fare their way. Until now, they have been unable to garner enough power to call forth their brethren and strike at my Guardian, though long have they tormented her and held her bound. The life force of a God-chosen warrior is strong however, and rich in power. The balance has shifted."
"Tasuki." Chichiri breathed, his eye closing as the knowledge of what they'd inadvertently done struck him like a blow to his solar plexus.
The woman nodded, "The succubus who impersonates the sister fed on his life-force. Now, they prepare the Guardian for sacrifice four days hence and weakened as she has been with years of fighting, she will die and they will rise." The woman's gaze shifted to the mist, unreadable.
Chichiri's hands curled into defiant fists, " No, she won't. Not if we have anything to say about it." He whispered fiercely, earning a cold smile from the woman at his side.
"There is a bond between you and the Guardian." She nodded knowingly. "You will find her in the sacred grove. Long has it been desecrated. It is the nexus." She bowed her head once. "Your companion lies dying in that grove."
The woman's body began to shimmer, glowing with an unearthly amethyst light.
"Wait!" the monk reached out a hand suddenly. "Who are you?"
Bathed in a cascade of phosphorescent flame, the woman regarded him. "Meng. I cradle departed souls until they are reborn anew. I am life and death, the Goddess you call upon when for your souls the worlds part. I hold the waters of memory. Protect my sword." She commanded and as the monk watched respectfully, faded from his sight.
Blinking his eyes, Chichiri staggered against the wall of the building, finding himself once again in the physical, corporeal world. Sparing a moment to gather his thoughts, not daring to use the very magic that would betray his presence, the monk set off at a run for the forest and the waiting body of his friend.
The present, three days after the spirit journey....
Chichiri looked at Tasuki, running a hand through his bangs with a tired sigh. "We don't have much time to spare. Do you think you can walk?"
Tasuki nodded and groaned, " Yeah, I'll be fine. I"m sore as hell though." He stretched, cracking his back and sliding out of bed, reaching for the steely comfort of his tessen. The monk bit his lip when he saw the claw-marks criss-crossing the bandit's naked back, grateful that Tasuki hadn't thought to ask precisely WHAT a succubus was!
As the bandit quickly dressed, Chichiri gathered his staff, praying to Suzaku for strength.
Tasuki tucked his tessen into his belt turning to nod grimly to his friend. "Let's go. I hope we're not already too late."
The monk favored Tasuki with a hollow gaze, "If we were, we'd know it." The mindless destruction he had witnessed during his spirit journey replayed themselves in his mind. "We'd definitely know."
Tasuki nodded once and it was only as the two men left the in, that he thought to ask, "You said Isatis had a seishi symbol...what was it?"
The monk's heart pounded in his chest and for a moment he wondered at the crushing sense of foreboding that crashed down around him. "Sword. Her symbol is the kanji for sword."
Author's Note:
One more chapter to go!! I'll try to have it posted by mid-August, as soon as I return from vacation.
Lady Meng is an ancient Chinese Goddess of the Underworld, very similar to the Norse Goddess Hella. She gathers the souls of all the dead and before they can be reborn, she offers them a drink of sacred broth from her chalice. (I believe this is her symbol.). This is the water of forgetfulness and will ensure that as souls pass into new life, they do not carry the memories of previous incarnations with her. Like all Underworld Goddesses, she is very much associated with ancestral veneration, magic and shamanic initiation.
E-mail: woad_isatis@yahoo.com
Last Modified: 07/25/01
Title: The Innkeeper's Daughter
Type of work: fanfiction: drama/romance
Spoilers: none yet.
Warnings: mature subject matter, lemonish, language, violence
Keywords: Tasuki, Chichiri
Chapter 4
Tasuki moaned, back arching as Rowan raked sharp nails down his back, "Please...no more..." he cried, every fiber of his body alight with a searing pain. "Please...stop." his hips thrust savagely into her governed by a rhythm that he neither initiated nor controlled.
"More...must have more." The woman moaned arching beneath him, running her nails down his tight ass. "So rich." she purred.
Tasuki cried out and sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat.
"Yokatta!" Chichiri swore softly, bending over him. The monk looked as though he had not slept in days. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked very haggard. "Do you have any idea how long you've been unconscious?"
Tasuki blinked, trying to focus his eyes, groaning at the ache in every part of his body. "What happened?" he croaked hoarsely, one hand reaching out to grip the monk's wrist spasmodically.
"You've been unconscious for three days." The elder seishi said grimly. "You don't remember anything?"
Tasuki shook his head, "Only that the sleeping potion I gave Rowan didn't work. Shit!" he cursed softly, trying to pull himself into a sitting position, closing his eyes as the world began to spin dangerously.
"Easy." Chichiri steadied him and helped him to sit up. "I found you in the forest. Your chi was so weak that..."the monk paled, " it was almost imperceptible. I ...for a moment I thought you were dead." He admitted. "I wouldn't have found you at all if not for Isatis."
Tasuki stared at the monk, "How ...what does she have to do with it...." he groaned again.
Chichiri sighed and handed the younger seishi a glass of water. "Three days ago Isatis disappeared as well."
The bandit-seishi shook his head trying to clear his senses, "Wait, if she disappeared how did she help you find me?"
The monk sighed, "I was visited in a dream..."
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Tasuki looked at the monk like he'd gone insane, " a dream?"
Chichiri sighed, "Please, Tasuki...I'll explain everything, no da...just...bear with me."
Tasuki looked at the monk and with a pang realized that his friend had probably not slept at all for the past few days, "Ano, Chichiri...I'm sorry..."
The monk smiled wanly, "It's ok...but I think I know what's going on... at least part of it. When I couldn't find you, I started looking for Isatis. She was gone, as was Rowan. I wasn't able to locate either one of you even with magic." There was an anguished look in his eyes as he began to recount the events of the past few days...
Two days previous...
Chichiri slumped against the wall of the building, running a hand through his bangs, face contorting in frustration. He'd been over every inch of the town to no avail. "Where are you, Tasuki, no da?" he whispered to himself, closing his eye briefly, as he slid down the wall in exhaustion.
The wind picked up slightly and the monk shifted, letting the refreshing breezes wash over his body. After a few moments of rest, he sighed and opened his eye then leapt up into a battle ready crouch with a startled gasp, gazing around in shock. For Chichiri was no longer in the alley. When he opened his eye what surrounded him was a surreal landscape of shifting hues and patterns, a cacophony of delicately spun light and shadow as seemingly fragile as a spider's web and it glowed with an eerie phosphorescence that made his blood sing.
Chichiri knew this place, not well, but he knew it. It was an in-between place, a place neither of the physical world nor apart from it, a place where power flowed like water from a rushing stream and doors both benevolent and malign were opened. What he didn't know is how he had gotten there.
Straightening up, he began to examine his eldritch surroundings, taking a moment to find his center in the wildly shifting currents of this magical realm. Looking around, he spied a faint lavender glow that flickered and danced, curling first around him before disappearing into the landscape to reappear, almost as though it was beckoning him to follow. Amidst the strange whispering harmonies, rising from each eddying shadow and glimmering strand, the monk heard his name, chiming with a potent, inexplicably compelling force.
Cautiously, Chichiri began following. Soon the amethyst mist rose to dance around him, carrying him foward. "Do you see?" it whispered. "Do you know? The key is here." the mist parted before him to reveal a gaping chasm, a wound in the fabric of place and time, jagged and torn, scarred and mangled. "Thus has it ever been." The voice whispered. "For eons, from before the beginning." Chichiri shuddered as something black, ichorous and vile began crawling out of the chasm.
The amethyst mist coalesced into a woman's form, regal of bearing, stern of countenance. "Across the planes of being, there have ever been those places wherein being must battle corruption and it is your world which all to often pays the price."
The images before him shifted, revealing two women, wiry, strong who radiated a diamond-hard power. "Guardians were chosen." The being at his side continued. "Entrusted with the duty of holding back corruption." The monk stared riveted as images of battle and destruction played themselves out before his eyes.
"One family was bound to this land, this place, a sacred oath passed down from mother to daughter, father to son. And in this place..." The images before the man tumbled one into the other, each dying warrior being replaced by another, younger guardian-sworn. "She is the last." The image of Isatis appeared before the roiling gateway.
The monk stared in shock, "You mean ...she is a guardian of the land? But..." he shook his head confused and the figure beside him grew somber.
"Be not deceived by fragile appearances. Of all her line, she alone survived to serve. Her blood is thick with the power of her ancestors." Black tendrils slithered from the gaping maw before the girl, winding up her arms and legs, piercing her flesh, binding her to the corrupted crevasse.
"Stop it!! Do something!!" Chichiri cried out as the girl's face contorted in a silent mask of agony, a shadowy form rising behind her from the pit.
Unmoved, the woman at his side continued, "Long before life, this one chose to drink of my waters, to fortify herself with my power. I do not choose often, but I choose very well." The images before him vanished. "Many years ago," she continued, "this family attempted to close the gateway you observed. They failed." Her countenance grew grim. "And in losing that battle, the gateway came under the control of those beings who thrive only on chaos and destruction. You call them demons but before the Courts of Heaven they are denied the acknowledgement of a name. The family, which had for generations guarded this boundary, was exterminated save one." Again the image of Isatis coalesced before him, flickering in the tides of power commanded by the being at his side. "While she lives, they cannot fully command the gateway and yet, though the magic in her blood has yet to blossom fully, until this point she could not be killed. While the Guardian lives, these creatures have limited substance on your plane of being." The woman sighed heavily. "Sadly, that is no longer the case."
Chichiri regarded the being, concern etched plainly on his face. "What do you mean? What has changed?" he had a sick, twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach, the image of Isatis impaled upon malignant filaments, writhing in anguish burned into his consciousness.
"What rose up out of the pit to devour my chosen warriors, assumed their flesh. They have existed in a place that is neither of this realm nor of yours, luring passers-by with promises of pleasure and wealth. They feed on the gifted, destroying those with magic who have the misfortune to fare their way. Until now, they have been unable to garner enough power to call forth their brethren and strike at my Guardian, though long have they tormented her and held her bound. The life force of a God-chosen warrior is strong however, and rich in power. The balance has shifted."
"Tasuki." Chichiri breathed, his eye closing as the knowledge of what they'd inadvertently done struck him like a blow to his solar plexus.
The woman nodded, "The succubus who impersonates the sister fed on his life-force. Now, they prepare the Guardian for sacrifice four days hence and weakened as she has been with years of fighting, she will die and they will rise." The woman's gaze shifted to the mist, unreadable.
Chichiri's hands curled into defiant fists, " No, she won't. Not if we have anything to say about it." He whispered fiercely, earning a cold smile from the woman at his side.
"There is a bond between you and the Guardian." She nodded knowingly. "You will find her in the sacred grove. Long has it been desecrated. It is the nexus." She bowed her head once. "Your companion lies dying in that grove."
The woman's body began to shimmer, glowing with an unearthly amethyst light.
"Wait!" the monk reached out a hand suddenly. "Who are you?"
Bathed in a cascade of phosphorescent flame, the woman regarded him. "Meng. I cradle departed souls until they are reborn anew. I am life and death, the Goddess you call upon when for your souls the worlds part. I hold the waters of memory. Protect my sword." She commanded and as the monk watched respectfully, faded from his sight.
Blinking his eyes, Chichiri staggered against the wall of the building, finding himself once again in the physical, corporeal world. Sparing a moment to gather his thoughts, not daring to use the very magic that would betray his presence, the monk set off at a run for the forest and the waiting body of his friend.
The present, three days after the spirit journey....
Chichiri looked at Tasuki, running a hand through his bangs with a tired sigh. "We don't have much time to spare. Do you think you can walk?"
Tasuki nodded and groaned, " Yeah, I'll be fine. I"m sore as hell though." He stretched, cracking his back and sliding out of bed, reaching for the steely comfort of his tessen. The monk bit his lip when he saw the claw-marks criss-crossing the bandit's naked back, grateful that Tasuki hadn't thought to ask precisely WHAT a succubus was!
As the bandit quickly dressed, Chichiri gathered his staff, praying to Suzaku for strength.
Tasuki tucked his tessen into his belt turning to nod grimly to his friend. "Let's go. I hope we're not already too late."
The monk favored Tasuki with a hollow gaze, "If we were, we'd know it." The mindless destruction he had witnessed during his spirit journey replayed themselves in his mind. "We'd definitely know."
Tasuki nodded once and it was only as the two men left the in, that he thought to ask, "You said Isatis had a seishi symbol...what was it?"
The monk's heart pounded in his chest and for a moment he wondered at the crushing sense of foreboding that crashed down around him. "Sword. Her symbol is the kanji for sword."
Author's Note:
One more chapter to go!! I'll try to have it posted by mid-August, as soon as I return from vacation.
Lady Meng is an ancient Chinese Goddess of the Underworld, very similar to the Norse Goddess Hella. She gathers the souls of all the dead and before they can be reborn, she offers them a drink of sacred broth from her chalice. (I believe this is her symbol.). This is the water of forgetfulness and will ensure that as souls pass into new life, they do not carry the memories of previous incarnations with her. Like all Underworld Goddesses, she is very much associated with ancestral veneration, magic and shamanic initiation.