The Golden Hanyou
By: Kickbutt 297
PROLOGUE
The night was windy with ice and nipping cold, just as it had been the last week or so in a small village just west of the mountains. Winter was creeping slowly around the corner-they all felt it, but no one dared speak the horror of the upcoming conditions. The stars predicted the worst storm yet, and while the people busied themselves with hunting and building stronger shelters, one man in particular didn't seem to care.
To a boater, winter meant nothing but little to no profits. If the water was frozen, the boats were useless for travel, and there wouldn't been anyone to ride anywhere anyways. Only a fool would dare to cross the freezing rivers in such harsh weather. So as the snow brewed in the east and climbed towards the west in small gusts of tiny ice bits and winter cold, the boater minds his time and waits for any last customers to pay him a fee for a ride across the river.
This boater wasn't what you'd call a "role model". Somehow he had driven the cold from his mind and drifted off into a warm slumber in his tiny vessel, snoring rather loudly under his thick-brimmed straw hat. Good thing the lantern was out, or then we'd have a real problem on our hands.
But as the man dreamed, someone watched close by. Draped in a long, dirty torso, a hooded figure watches from behind an array of bushes and clutches something long and small to it's chest. With a quick look left and another swift glance right, the figure makes it's way across the small distance and skids at the river's edge. The figure shakes the boater feverishly.
Figure[whispers]: Wake up wake up!
Boater: *SNORT!* ALL HANDS ON DECK!-
The figure slaps a hand across his mouth and puts a finger to it's lips.
Figure: Shhhh! Please, I need your help!
The boater shakes off the last of his drowsiness and stares at the figure in front of him. It was a young woman, dressed in a dirty hooded cape with long, sleek black hair that hung limply over her shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Though she was pretty, her face was smudged with dirt and gave away her obvious occupation. The boater smiles and leans on his paddle.
Boater: Aye. Runaway slave, are ye, lassie?
Woman: Please, sir, I beg you. I need a ride across the river.
The boater laughs heartily.
Boater: Listen, lassie, aye'd love to', but I got' kidsa' me own, and winters' a coming. I need the mowney for me firewood.
Woman: Yes, I know of the harsh weather coming, but you must understand! This is...
The woman pauses for a moment, and the boater sees her look down to her small bundle and hold it closer to her. After a moment's pause, she looks to him with pleading eyes.
Woman: This is of great importance, far more than you could ever imagine.
The boater stares at the woman and her blankets for a moment. He looks up to the starry sky and places a thoughtful hand on his chin.
Boater: I dunno-smug'aling slaves isn't really me business...
The woman opens her mouth as if to say something, but then stops. She looks to the ground and gives a soft sigh, issuing smoke from her mouth as her breath freezes in the night. She closes her eyes gently, and the boater felt a sudden chill up his spine.
Woman: I think this is...the one.
The boater's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. His jaw drops about ten feet and jabbers uselessly, his hand slipping from his paddle, almost causing him to fall into the icy waters.
Boater: ...H-he?! He's the one?!?
Woman: I do not know-
She looks to him urgently, her beautiful eyes pleading with him silently.
Woman: -but if he is, he will surely die in this weather. I need to get him somewhere safe, where he can be warm and healthy at least until the winter's end.
The boater stares into her dirty face. She was obviously desperate, and in his thoughts there was no doubt the woman had gone a little batty, but he didn't have a choice. He huffs a little and turns to light the lantern.
Boater: Hop in.
The woman's eyes light up as she smiles.
Woman: Oh, bless you, sir.
She climbs into the shaky rowboat and cuddles the small bundle of blankets close to her, cooing whatever was inside of it with the soft clicking of her tongue and the gentleness of her words. The boater shakes his head as he lifts the lantern onto it's post in front of the boat. The chosen one! Ha! That was one that would surely please the guys back at the bar. It was nothing but a mere myth that one day, the chosen one would be brought to Earth to do whatever it was it did...the legend was foggy to the sailor, and it was so old-he had learned it when he was just a lad. But the woman looked sincere and overall harmless; what could one free ride do? Though she took on the appearance of an escaped slave, the boater shrugged-most of his friends were in the dungeons anyway, and joining them for a couple 'a months wouldn't bother him in the least. So with one final push off the frozen shore, the small wooden row boat floated peacefully out into the cold night.
The boater kept his strokes steady and cautious, his eyes scanning the waters and the shore for any signs of the lurking shadows. They were the most vulnerable target put there-a flesh-eater's dream in a boat. The boater was not against woman's strength, but her bundle was obviously dear to hear, and she didn't look like she was ready to fight off demons. Not only that, but they were on water; very shaky grounds. The boater wasn't sure what would happen to the bundle if they were drowned in the water's ice by some blood-craving beast. The woman holds it close and cradles it gently back and forth, singing wordless hums softly, and through her singing all seemed right with the world. The boater found his eyes softening as he looks up to the stars, the gentle rocking of the boat comforting him. The melody of the woman was a sweet one, and though it was wordless and seemed to be nothing more of hums, it was beautiful all in itself. This, I must point out, is the first mistake of the story.
Letting your guard down.
eeeeeeeeeEEENOWWOWOEEEEEEEE!
The traveler's gazes snap upward to the sky, stricken with fear, the woman holding her bundle closer to her chest in her surprise. Black against the full moon, an enormous winged creature moves steadily across the winter sky, calling out horrid-ear-piercing notes into the night. Paralyzed by a mix of fear and surprise, the boater and the woman watch the beast silently as it glides across the sky, batting it's wings with steady, even strokes. As it glides over their heads, the boater couldn't help but duck in fear, but the woman stayed completely still, thinking any sudden movement would probably provoke it to attack. And just like that, it was gone, it's forked tail waving behind it, and it's screeches becoming distant in the darkness of the night.
The woman let out a sigh of relief, the boater doing the same. The hooded woman holds her palm to her heart and closes her eyes gently; it wasn't a demon after all, or it would have attacked. The boater rises up with a grin and bursts out into laugh with a pirate's accent.
Boater: Arharharharharh! That was a good one! I tell ya, lassie-for a second there I thought we were gone-
SWICK!
Woman: AHHHHHHHOW!
It moved so swiftly neither of them noticed the beating of the wind as it pumped it's powerful wings towards them. The woman pulls her eyes away from the boater's head grasped tight in the creature's talons and hunches over her bundle, shielding it with her back to the beast as it cries out in victory into the night. But upon looking up, the woman had made the second mistake of the trip. It would have been better if she had looked upon the headless body of the boater, for the scene in front of her struck fear through her heart like an arrow.
Hundreds-no, thousands of beasts, all coming towards the very spot where she sat, helpless, in the small wooden boat. The woman's eyes get wide and her breath quickens as the horde of the winged terrors let out their screeching sound, now in unison with their partners and more wretched than ever before. The woman narrows her gaze and focuses her eyes as best she can on the creatures' faces, and instantly, like a born instinct, she saw it in their merciless red eyes.
Woman: Demons! AHH!
The woman ducks below the boat's seat as one demon comes swooping down on her, calling out to it's comrades in what sounded like an evil laugh of mockery at the poor little helpless human, handed to them so easily it seemed almost like a trick. But they smelt no other comrades, no other stenches-no one to hear her scream.
eeeeeeeEEEEEOwowwoWEE!
The woman rises as one swiftly passes by her, nearly missing her left shoulder blade. She bats one the head and causes it to go dizzily head first into the river's ice.
Woman: Back, you vile things, BACK! Back demons, back to the HELL from whence you came!
SWACK! For a one handed fighter, the woman was remarkably strong for looking so fragile in her rags. But after four demons were down and were shaking off the icy easily, and with about 2,583 more to go, the woman knew she had no choice; she had to get to land. The water was their territory-land would drive many, if not all of them, off her back.
Quickly, the woman leans over the edge of the small vessel and pulls with all her might at the boat, picking up the speed faster and faster with every stroke. But it wasn't enough; the demons were smarter than they looked, and the minute they saw her escaping out of their territory, they gather together and shoot down at her like a massive black missal, screaming out their fury into the cold night. The woman looks up and gasps-they were inches from striking!
Thinking fast, the woman cradles her bundle in one arm and flips the boat over on top of her and her package, huddling tightly into the end corner of the wood. She holds her blankets tight to her and closes her eyes with gritted teeth, waiting for the impact-
KER-POW!
The minute she felt the boat snap in two the woman made a swift run for it. Though the demons were smarter than they should be, she had tricked them successfully; by looking slow and meek with her hand strokes she had lured the demons toward her, but by covering herself under the boat she gave the impression of surrender, the boat posing as the last line of her defense. The bird demons had fallen into their own trap-they're torpedo like formation shot through the water like a dart through tissue paper, and only a few heads pocked out of the river's surface. The point of the hooded woman's strokes wasn't only to look helpless, but to grave the water for twigs and plants; namely, things that grew near shore and could be reached by a boat not far away. So now here she was, running as fast as she could in wading water, clutching her blankets like they were priceless diamonds. But this package was much more valuable than riches-so valuable, in fact, that their was no real price to suit it.
The woman looks back to the drowning wretches and suddenly calls out as she stumbles into the water, quickly drawing her bundle up to her cheek to keep it as dry as possible. Thankful to have two feet to run on, the woman feels the soft soil of the river's edge under her feet, and after walking a good distance from the screeches of the dying demons, she stops and kneels down to the ground, looking into her bundle and smiling warmly.
Woman: There, there, little one. You're safe now. Nothing can ever harm you again, ok?
The woman's smile widens as a small sound comes out from the bundles, and for the first time that night, everything seemed at peace. But this small and happy moment only leads us to the third and[sorry to say], final mistake the woman would make that night, for as she sat peacefully on the bushy grass of the nearby forest, something large emerged from the river, and with it others that looked the same...
The woman looks up suddenly as a loud screech rings out through the silence, but she was too late. In the blink of her brown eyes, she no longer felt the light package in her hand. She catches the bird's tail feathers and yanks on them with all her might.
Woman: NO!
The birds caws in desperation, but though the woman was strong she was not match. The bird soon escaped with the package tightly grasped. The woman reaches out a helpless hand.
Woman: TEKO!
The bird takes one last look at the woman with an evil smile before escaping into the night-or so it thought.
THWACK!
The bird's altitude decreases quickly as the rock bounces off his head with a bone-breaking CRUNCH! That was enough, however, to loosen the demon's grip.
The woman dashes towards the falling blankets and dives forward, landing on the icy hard ground with the blankets tight in her arms. As the bird shakes it's head and darts it's red eyes around the ground, the woman sprints through the forest's brush, dodging rocks and twigs.
The demon sniffs the air and quickly picks up the woman's scent. Licking his blood-dripping fangs, he lunges after her as fast as he wings would carry him.
The woman dare not look behind her for fear of tripping and hurting her package, but she could feel the breath of the demons on her neck-one notch down in her speed...
Her feet move faster-the demons' wings beat harder. A race for food-a race for life. Bend after bend it continues, the demons driving the woman deeper into the woods with every heartbeat. The woman couldn't think of a cunning plan for this situation, her mind lost in one thought-keeping her bundle of blankets safe. And to think...right after that thought...one look behind her...
Woman: AHH!
The thorns of the vined log caught her foot violently and sliced into her skin, spilling blood all over the once cleanly damp fallen log that was right in front of her path. Yet again, her life was spared-being so low to the ground, the demons couldn't get at her head as she fell, but nonetheless the woman felt nothing but fear as snapping jaws came inches from her neck. As soon as the four menaces were flying high to turn around for another dive attack, the woman was off on her sliced feet and running as fast as she could, which, due to her previous injury, wasn't very fast. The hooded slave felt tears brew her eyes as she looks behind her to the gaping jaws of demons...
There! Up ahead! A forest shrine! It was like the light at the end of a highly perilous tunnel. New hope in her heart, the woman clutches the bundle tight and makes her way to the shrine as fast as possibly, reaching the large oak doors just as the screeches rounded the path's wooded corner to the opening. The woman beats hard the door with all her might and cries out in desperation.
Woman: SANCTUARY! PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP! GIVE ME SANCTUARY!
eeeeeeeEEEEEEEWOWOWaaaakkkkkkk!
The woman turns with panic stricken eyes and flattens herself against the wooden walls of the sanctuary, holding her package close to her chin. After a moment's shock, she dashes to the side and rounds the corner-
SHING!
Wasted. After all that time and energy, spilt blood...running, dodging, jumping, diving-wasted. For as soon as the woman turns the corner, her throat was easily sliced.
The woman gasps as blood drips in thin lines from her neck and stains her already dirty rags. Her grip loosening on the bundle, she crumples to the ground, her blood emptying into a small pool besides her throat. From behind the corner, a dark figure emerges, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. A winged demon swoops down besides him. The figure strokes the bird's bloody feathers affectionately, a sickly grin across his face. He clicks his tongue as he looks upon the fallen slave, shaking his head slowly.
Figure: Tsk tsk, human. It must be horrible to die from suffocating on your own blood.
He didn't expect the woman to answer, but smiles anyway. It was his simple joy to watch people struggle to survive, and then crumple, o so easily, at his feet. However, in all his sick merriment, the figure failed to notice the bundle of blankets nearby, and also how they suddenly stirred all by themselves.
eeeee....
The figure's large ears suddenly perked up. That noise..
EEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH!
The figure jumps back as the demon bird besides him starts to shriek with invisible pain, clutching it's ears with it's long clawed wings like they were about to fall off. The figure looks up to see that all of the four remaining demons were twitching uncontrollably in the sky, clutching their ears and screeching with pain and agony. In an instant, they flew off at top speed, still shrieking as the crying continues. The figure looks down to the bundle with surprise.
Figure: What the...?
Bending down, the figure picks up the bundle and lifts the blanket flap. His golden eyes suddenly widen as he throws the package across the hard ground, not heeding the fact that the dead woman besides him had just given her life to protect what he just carelessly threw to it's death. But what did Lord Sesshoumaru care? It was a despicable thing, just like his flee-biten brother, and in his mind it deserved to die, no matter how helpless it was. After wiping his hands on his robes in disgust, Sesshoumaru took off into the night back to his lair. The cold would kill the wretched thing.
But had he waited a mere second to turn his head round, he would have seen the small bundle turn on it's side gently and stay perfectly still, breathing peacefully. He would have seen that his deed was not done, and would have went back to finish what he intended to do, but he didn't.
It would have been better if he did.