Amaranth
By Aycelcus
Rating: R (for violence and sexual situations in later chapters)
Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha, its characters or likenesses. I am borrowing them for just a little while. Also, I do not own the Landers and any related characters. They belong to my best friend. I do own Cillara, her likeness and all things that pertain to her character. AKA: Don't own; don't sue.
Author's Note: Here is Chapter Eight for all you who have been waiting. Wave if you are out there. Reviews would be nice too. And Josh, now you can stop nagging me about the next chapter. And I am aware that the names in this chapter are boring and common, but the god didn't even have a name before. He was just kind of amorphous in my brain. Perhaps one of you has a better name that I could give him, his secret name that will be uttered later. Come on, submit them. I dare you.
Chapter Eight: Steps in Flight
The moon was in its descent when the winged form gently disengaged from her slumbering lover. Cillara moved silently, becoming shadow itself. A whisper of a kiss fell across Sesshoumaru's brow; so soft and shadow-formed that even had he been awake he would not have been aware of it. Magic was heavy in the air; magic generated by time and darkness kind, and by the heady rush of sex. It allowed her to pass over into the shadow-realm, however slightly. She could not yet pass between the veil of the worlds.
"I am sorry," she whispered against his skin in her old, molten silver words. Her fingertips tingled slightly; she could feel the retreat of the amaranth and knew that even if she stayed, things would become difficult. I took advantage of him through the amaranth, for my own comforting. That was dishonorable of me. But she knew, with a certainty deep in her marrow that she would only do the same if given another chance. A man like Sesshoumaru was always so damned attractive to her. A man like Sesshoumaru engaged her emotions with such ease. Sesshoumaru engaged her emotions with such ease. And that made her so very dangerous to him. She could still feel the presence against her awareness. It slid across her senses, thick and oily, a molding, fetid smell that invaded her mental nostrils and set a panicky fear fluttering in her belly. He is here, a voice warned. He is here and if he realizes that you care for anything of this world, he will destroy it as to destroy you. And she knew that the voice spoke truth, so she stopped at the edge of the shadows and gathered what she could about her, old armor and ancient weapons drawn from a hidden cache in the shadow-realm. The effort left her shaking. She knew as well that the weapons and armor would be useless against that which stalked her, but habits old hold heavy sway against even the most flexible of souls. Then she walked out of the fortress and down into the forest deep, a sacrifice to draw old dangers away.
Sesshoumaru could not honestly tell if asked later what woke him that night. Perhaps it was some small sound, out of place and clanging warning bells in his mind. Maybe it was too dark, the unnatural shadow-magic clinging and turning the solarium to moon-dark. Perhaps it was simply the unfamiliar tug as his soul. He would say that such useless rambling did not matter; what mattered was that he did wake, mind uncluttered by purple and blood pumping through his veins in alarm.
He realized several things in an instant. He knew that he was bound to Cillara; he could taste her blood on his tongue and feel the answering throb at his neck and his groin. He knew that whatever spell had held him had faded as if it was never there. He also knew that Cillara had fled; her soul was pulling him towards the west in urgent panic and fury.
At once he was filled with an answering fury. She had manipulated him. For whatever reason, she had manipulated him with her spells and her body and her vulnerability. But she didn't know what she was doing, and now she belonged to hi, whether she wished it or not. And Sesshoumaru never gives up that which is his.
He growled and followed his missing prize into the night, intending to throttle her for doing such a stupid, stupid thing. Then he would sink back into her. He was Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, damnit, and she would be reminded of that over and over again until he was sure she would never run again.
He caught her scent quickly in the forest, laced so heavily with fear that it did not smell like her for a moment. Then another odor assaulted his nose, one warm and rotting. Someone was with her, stalking her even as he was.
He was swift, so swift that Cillara did not even feel him enter the forest hollow until his cold hand slid along her neck. He grasped it gently, almost fondly, and squeezed.
"Well, well, well," came his voice in her ear. She sobbed inwardly at the sound of it, the horrid feel of it breathing all the way down into her brain. "If it isn't the little avatar, awake and alive. How long," and his fingers at her throat gripped tighter while his other hand slimed across her body. "—I have hunted you. You, beloved of she who dared to defy me."
"Chaos!" She gasped against the ever-tightening circle of his hand.
The hand that had glided across her breast suddenly clamped down, crushing the fragile flesh and making her cry out in pain. "LORD Chaos, little avatar. God of Anarchy, Bringer of Entropy, Destroyer of Order."
"You speak as if such lofty titles should mean something." Cillara snarled back as her lips turned faintly blue.
Chaos, god of anarchy and bringer of entropy, growled and shook her harshly. "Disgusting mortal upstart. Just like Lucifer. You have been given far too much power and do not remember your place. You should have accepted your fate and died like you Goddess and her disgusting mortals.
"But she defies me even unto death. Such trouble I have taken to find you, for you are last of the retributions I have taken against her. And here I find that she has made you immortal, like Lucifer. Tsk. Troublesome bitch. She tried so hard to keep her little world alive, but she was old and outdated, and each little termite on that nasty little rock she called her own should had been squashed into oblivion millennia ago. But never mind that now. I have accomplished my task and you, you—" and he paused.
"I see you have been busy, little avatar."
Cillara sobbed then, as she saw Sesshoumaru's form in the darkness. Chaos went on. "Such nice little bonds you have made with this mortal realm, my dear. You even have a mate! My, my, my, I can still smell your animal rutting."
A growl issued from Sesshoumaru then, and she could see his eyes running red and his fur bristling. No, she silently pleaded. Do not attack him. You cannot win.
Chaos was pleased and his voice all but purred as he reached down to place his lips on hers. She tried to turn away, and was held strong by his crushing grip on her neck and her breast. "I intend to have much fun with you, little one, to make up for all the time and trouble I have taken to find you. You know what I can do. I shall break you as I break this world, and you shall cry out to me for mercy as yet another planet falls to death and destruction, all because of you. Plagues shall follow in your footsteps; monsters shall track down all you hold dear. Your touch shall be as poison—"
Chaos laughed then, and threw her away from him towards Sesshoumaru. She cried out and pulled away before they could touch, ripping away from the youkai's grasping fingers.
"Do not touch me!" She screamed. "Do not touch me! I will kill you!" And Sesshoumaru turned on Chaos, his demon side taking over. But even as fast as the youkai lord was, he was too slow for the god as Chaos disappeared, his laughter following in his wake.
Inu Yasha and Kagome raced toward the woods, Inu Yasha holding his mate on his back like they used to do in the old days. Kagome was all but sick with the waking of her premonition, and the desperate need to reach Cillara and Sesshoumaru was over-riding every other thought she had. They appeared in the hollow to the sound of grating laughter, and to the sight of a half-transformed Sesshoumaru. Cillara was off to the side, tears of blood on her face and bruises at her neck. Sesshoumaru did not seem to notice them; he turned on Cillara and started forward. She shrank back.
"Sesshoumaru, no! Do not come near!"
His voice was strangled and angry. "He touched you. He had his hands on you. He dared to touch that which is mine!"
Her voice became low and strangely inflected. "I belong to no one. I am a plague."
His voice came again, still angry even as he fought and gained control over his form. "You are mine. You are marked."
Her voice struck the glade, high and full of tight and painful laughter. "You mean this damn bite on my neck? Figures that I let something stupid like that happen. Oh goddess…"
And she sank down. "I am poison, and he will kill you first."
Sesshoumaru moved forward again, his voice still marked by fury, but laced suddenly with incredulousness. "You think that I can be killed by poison? You," and he grabbed her arm before she could jerk away. "You will tell me what that business was. You will tell me, NOW."
Kagome gasped as she watched; Inu Yasha stood still as a statue. Nothing seemed to make sense. Sesshoumaru's palm began to sizzle where it touched her bare skin, and he looked puzzled for a moment before he collapsed against Cillara, eyes open and glassy. Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, was dead.
A.N…. don't kill me! It's important to the story!
A.N. Two: Just you wait. Now that the amaranth is gone underground and as soon as this current piece of nasty business is concluded I believe we shall see some spectacular Fluffy vs. Cillara fights. Esp. in chapter 11 or 12 (not sure yet when the instigator who sparks the fireworks off will appear. I suppose we all must be a mite patient. This story seems determined to take its own direction despite the nice little outline in my head. It's as much of a surprise to me as it is to you! Esp. that whole Fluffy-death thing. That was so not planned. But it fit right into my little outline like it was an original part of the plot. Go frelling figure.)
Also, I decided to add another of the Cillara poems, since amazingly there was once person who not only read the last one, but also reviewed on it. Incredible. So this is for you.
This was written a full year ago, scrawled in my diary (when I remembered to keep one) the night before my aunt's funeral. That may sound awfully weird, but I suppose it sparked my mood.
Amethyst and Sand
In the hollows where you rested
In the shadows where you stand
You've built your little nests out
Of Amethyst and Sand.
Through worlds unnumbered you have shifted
Those nameless foreign lands
'Till your shadows have been lifted
Build your castles in the sand.
There is purple on the ceiling
When the local scene disbands
And the inner walls are peeling
In your shadowed rooms of sand.
There's a melancholic air
In the music of the band
You believe it takes you somewhere
Down your passages of sand.
You're always grasping for the power
To reach beyond your darkened halls
So you build your purple towers
And you clamor at the walls,
But your castles built of shadow-sand never seem
To fall.
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