Amaranth
By Aycelcus
Rating: R (for massive copying and pasting in later chapters. Oh the horrors.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha, its characters any or likenesses. I am borrowing them one for just a little
reading while. Also, I do not these own the Landers and dumb any related characters. They disclaimers?
belong to my best friend. I do raise own Cillara, her likeness your and all things that hands pertain to her character peeps. Ne?
Author's Note: Gomen Nasai, I know it seems to be taking me longer and longer to update this story, but my life has decided to shift to high gear and consequently I am going slightly insane. Also, since the weather turned, my tendonitis in my wrists has come back with a vengeance, and typing, writing, drawing, etc. is painful. Of course, that's practically all I do, at home, work, and school, so I suppose I'm thrice damned. So here ya go, pain and all. Enjoy!
Chapter Twelve: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
They had almost made it to the border of the Northern Lands where the Council of the Youkai Lords would convene when Cillara dropped from the sky. There was no warning; she simply gave a small cry and clamped her hands over her ears. Her wings faltered from their steady beat; she was still not strong enough to pull herself from her stall.
Sabriel, too, faltered in his flight, his hands going to his head. The pain was intense, and every instinct cried warning. When he looked up, he saw Cillara nose-dive towards the earth, nearly unconscious.
Sesshoumaru could not begin to describe the sensation that he felt through his mate. It was sharp and throbbing and it raised his hackles. For a moment he was blinded, and then he felt the wind whistle past his ears. His dragon mount was diving at some unconscious command, and as the earth came up to meet him he felt his hand reach out and felt the heaviness of wind and bone and skin. Somehow, Sesshoumaru had managed to catch her, and as his dragon landed heavily, he pulled her against him as they hit the ground. He felt a bone in his shoulder crack as he shielded her from the brunt of the fall.
A moment later he was up, ignoring his cracked shoulder blade as he crouched over Cillara, who was shaking. He brought his fingers to her face, murmuring the most comforting things he could think of, desperate to ease her pain. He heard Sabriel land heavily beside him, and nearly snapped his head off as the man attempted to get a better look at the fallen Avatar.
Sabriel did not try to touch her again, but he offered a reproachful look. "I know what's wrong with her, and I should be able to help."
Sesshoumaru growled up at Sabriel. "Then what ails her?"
"It is Chaos. He is near. His sickness endangers her, his gating causes her pain."
Sesshoumaru did not comment, but he knew then that the angel was right. He remembered what had happened the first time that Cillara had sensed the evil god. Chaos must be near indeed, to cause her such pain.
Cillara herself was sweating and panting, but she was slowing fighting her way back to consciousness. Both men were surprised when she spoke.
"He is here."
Sesshoumaru growled and swung around, wanting to face Chaos, to kill him, but a hand on his injured shoulder stopped him. Sabriel shook his head.
"You cannot fight him." And he stood, a glow surrounding him. His robes were slowing becoming solid, cloth changing to armor. Cillara whimpered, and the halo that had melted into her skin grew intensely bright.
"No, Sabriel. Don't. You can't, not without a halo!"
"Shhh." He touched her face softly, for just the briefest of moments. He knew Sesshoumaru would not allow more. "You know that this is the only way." He turned to the Youkai Lord. "You need to take her far away. Go to that Council; gather what help you can. I will detain him as I am able. But you must hurry. He comes fast."
"No!" Cillara was trying to pull at Sabriel's robes with her trembling fingers. "No, you can't fight him alone!" Sabriel stepped back, and a sword materialized beside him.
"Go!" He yelled at the pair, and Sesshoumaru needed no other prompting. He swept Cillara up wings and all, and leapt to his dragon. She struggled weakly, and he kissed he brow. His dragon took to the air in great and heavy beats of its membranous wings, and he watched as Sabriel grew smaller and smaller. He thought that he could see six wings jutting from the angel's back instead of two, but he couldn't really be sure. Cillara sobbed against his shoulder. Sesshoumaru thought that Sabriel was courageous and foolish, and that it was unlikely the angel would live through the encounter. He hated that Sabriel's death would injure Cillara so, and was satisfied that the other man's sacrifice would effectively nullify his threat to their mating.
"Come," he whispered into her hair, his hand tightening around her waist. "Come, my little one, we have far to go."
Sabriel stood in his full ceremonial armor, all six wings standing out from his shoulders in testament to his rank. The only thing missing was his halo, his store of power. Only a faint circle surrounded his brow. He had not had time yet to grow another.
"Damn" He muttered under his breath, and then took off in the direction of the approaching god.
Chaos came upon him in a rush of acrid air.
He did not have time to react, despite his drawn sword and careful senses. He felt his sword-arm twisted to the breaking point, the long blade dropping from numbed fingers. His head was snapped back and his throat was constricted. A low, dangerous voice breathed in his ear as he cried out in pain.
"My my my… the little seraph is out to fight the big, bad demon god. But what is this?" And Sabriel felt a sharp ache at his temples. "No halo. Now where ever could that pesky thing have gone?"
Sabriel coughed, and then wrenched himself from Chaos's grasp. The god smirked, and watched as the angel tried to catch his breath. Then his face went deathly serious.
"You gave it to her, didn't you? And after I told you that I wouldn't destroy her, you go and do a stupid hero move like that. Don't you trust me, Sabriel?" He paused for a moment, and then laughed cruelly. "No, I don't suppose you would, would you? But," and he moved in a blink, his eyes boring into Sabriel's as he wrenched the angel's chin around. "You don't have to trust me. You just have to do what I say. Remember, we have an agreement, you and I."
"I remember," Sabriel spat.
"Yes, I am sure you do. You bring me Irene's little truant avatar, and you get to have her all to your little lonesome when I am through."
"You said you wouldn't hurt her!" Sabriel cried.
Chaos smiled. His eyes were cold, and their unnatural fire sparked against Sabriel. "I said I wouldn't destroy her. And I won't. Her precious immortal soul shall be intact. But she shall die, and be reborn as my daughter. And you get her from her very first breath. She shall be devoted to you, as she shall be to me. Let it never be said that I wasted such a useful commodity as the Shadow-Walker."
"No, you can't kill her!"
Fire then, against his skin and against his soul. Fire capable of rending even a god into shadow and shreds. "She is MINE. And you are but a gnat in the scheme of the multi-verse. Your god cannot save you here."
Chaos paused, and the flame touching Sabriel retreated slightly. "Six hundred years have I waited for her to reappear. Six hundred years I have sat upon the ruins of Irene's little world, sat in triumph over the aimless souls of the dead. I will not be denied in this, seraph. If you obey me, if you are a proper little minion, then you will be rewarded for your service. But if you even imagine for one moment that you can betray me then you shall go the way of Irene and all her children. And Cillara shall suffer all the more for it."
All of a sudden Chaos was gone, and only the last remnants of his voice were left to torment Sabriel as he fell to his knees in despair. "Bring her to me…"
Author's note: This is shamefully short, and I know this. However, my dog just ATE through the power cord on my laptop, and I have to cut this shorter than I intended. But look at the bright side: I updated! Yatta!
And don't be too pissed at Sabriel, six hundred years have kinda messed him up a little in the brain.