Disclaimer: Samurai Jack was created by Genndy Tartokovsy, and is property of Cartoon Network. I don't own it, I don't plan on owning it, and I sure as hell don't plan on making money off of it. This is written purely for enjoyment, so please don't sue. I have nothing anyway.
--Big thanks to YT for beta-reading this fic for me. You really helped me out! bows and hands her a box full of cookies--
Kindred
By: SilverKnight
Part II
They stood silent on opposite ends of the pasture, a fierce wind howling through the grassy expanse between them. Lightning flitted across the clouds, illuminating everything except the minion of darkness, which remained pitch black despite the blinding light. The samurai had seen many disturbing things that had defied logic, but he couldn't help but feel his skin crawl at the creature's sheer depravity to all he held dear about nature. This thing was simply wrong.
He took a moment to check the makeshift bandage he had used to bind the throbbing wound on his arm. Satisfied that it would slow the bleeding, he purposefully unsheathed his katana and glared at the specter. "I am ready," he declared.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the living shadow shot into motion, slashing at him with its sword. Jack sidestepped the sweeping blow, raking his own blade across his opponent's unguarded midsection. It hissed, stabbing its sword at him. He deflected the curved blade and impaled the creature through the shoulder. Twisting his wrists, he yanked his katana out, severing its arm in the process.
It screeched, vanishing in panic as the useless limb melted into a glob of black ink. Jack blinked, peering through the torrent worriedly. "I dislike that technique," he said into the night. What bothered him the most was that he didn't know what the technique actually was. Was it teleportation, or was it simply amazing speed? If the latter were the case, then the specter had the ability to move far faster than he could possibly follow, and had thus far been only toying with him.
Jack growled. "I don't like being toyed with. Show yourself, demon!"
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Without looking, he dropped and rolled as mystical steel whirred scant inches from his head. Jack rose to his feet and shifted into a defensive position. "It still has an advantage in speed and reach" he huffed as he leapt over its head, deftly blocking another blow. However, it is not nearly as effective with one sword as it is with two. Observing that its arm had not fully grown back yet, he also surmised that its regenerative capabilities were hampered without both weapons.
He raced across the lush plane, his sword held out to his side. The creature blocked his lightning strike and snapped out a formless limb. Jack's neck collided with its stiff forearm; he twirled through the air and landed gracelessly on his back in a sodden heap. He rolled to his knees, his hand wrapped protectively around his throat as he hacked.
Jack pushed himself to his feet, darting away from his enemy's blade. He brought his own weapon up and struggled to maintain an adequate defense as it changed tactics. Whereas before it struck with long, fluid movements, it now charged with brute force; utilizing its advantage in range with short, quick stabbing motions. He had seen fighters adapt to new situations, but the shift in the demon's style was... different.
It was as though it had become someone else.
He had never felt so ill at ease about one of Aku's minions. There was something about this one that made it very unusual, very dangerous. And he had a sinking feeling that it was due to much more than its speed.
Their katanas met with a thundering clash of steel and sparks. The solidified void pressed down upon him with all of its weight. Jack bared his teeth, feeling his geta tear up blades of grass and clumps of dirt as he was pushed backward. With agonizing slowness he pivoted his right foot, digging his sandal into the loose soil. The shadow pushed harder, shoving Jack's blade back to his chest. It was now or never.
With a grunt, he threw himself to his left. The creature stumbled forward and whirled around, vainly attempting to duck as the edge of Jack's sword cleaved a portion of its face off. It howled, striking out blindly. Jack tried to avoid the blow, but he found himself reeling to the ground with a hand clamped over his face and a scream in his throat.
Hissing, he peeled his palm back, squinting his eyes as blood seeped into them. His muscles taut, he raised his head skyward, letting the downpour stream over the searing, inflamed gash that opened flesh from cheekbone to hairline. Jack turned to glare at the shadow through the limp strands of hair hanging over his forehead. Sneering, he watched as the remainder of the specter's face began to bulge and grow, the inky substance molding into humanoid features.
The spectacle revolted him.
"It has become clear that I am not battling any ordinary minion of Aku," he seethed, tentatively running his fingers over the wound. "You are of a special breed. You've yet to resort to petty tricks, and seem intent on fighting fairly." Jack wasn't surprised when it didn't answer; it was still regrowing its lower jaw. "Why do you fight for Aku, when it is so obvious that you live by an honor code?"
His disgust slowly gave way to a chilling horror. "Could it be ? Were you once human?"
It hissed with its newly created mouth and leapt to the attack. Jack repelled the arcing sword into the dirt, kicking the hilt from the shadow's fingers as he rose. Frowning, he slammed his geta onto the blue-tinted steel with a hollow clack, resolutely pointing his katana at the demon. The tip of the mystical blade hovered over its chest, glinting dangerously. "Surrender," he said, "and I will spare your life."
Its eyes narrowed to slits, flaring brightly. "Never," it snarled, vanishing into the darkness.
Jack blinked, perturbed. "I greatly dislike that technique," he muttered. He scanned the area tensely, unable to banish the feeling that he had just made an incredibly stupid mistake. "There is nowhere it can run to," he continued quietly. "I have its weapon under my heel, and without another, there is no..."
His eyes grew large. It had two weapons.
Grass crunched to his right. He started to maneuver past the oncoming blow, when his sandal rapped against the blade held beneath it. "The sword," he huffed, glancing downward. He glowered at the charging specter and braced himself.
Jack barely managed to duck and weave around the deadlier strikes. He made sure to keep his foot firmly on top of his enemy's katana. The shadow stabbed forward. Jack deflected the attack. His opponent crouched and slashed at his ankles. He yanked his feet into the air. The demon groped for its blade. Jack stomped down on either side of its hand and speared it to the ground with the tip of his weapon. Yelping, it pulled its one hand free and swept its enchanted katana at Jack's neck with the other. Both swords met, sparks of magical energy flaring from the mystical weapons as they competed for dominance.
Suddenly, the shadow drew its sword back and kicked Jack's arms downward. A bony fist crushed into his cheekbone, sending him stumbling to the grass. As he fell, he seized his enemy's wrist, dragging it down with him. He landed on his back, curled his legs under the void's abdomen, and launched it headlong into the field.
Gasping, Jack scrambled to the blade's resting place. His fingers had only just scraped across its leather handle when the creature was upon him again. He vaulted onto his hands, kicking away the attack as his grip tightened around the hilt. Jack cartwheeled and lifted both weapons in a defensive stance.
The shadow skittered to a halt, its gleaming eyes wide with something akin to fear. To test his capability, Jack swung the sword once, straining momentarily at the weight of it. It was easily three times heavier than his katana, and was as tall as he. To make matters worse, he was forced to wield it one-handed. The specter's panicked expression slowly faded and it glowered at him with narrowed eyes. It stabbed its weapon into the dirt and leaned upon it idly, and smiled conceitedly.
Jack frowned in response, his pride swelling. It was taunting him! He always held a severe loathing for those who taunted others.
He arched a thick eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "Are you surrendering?" he asked, his lips a thin line. "I fight now to defend my life; I will not strike you down while you are so obviously defenseless."
The creature took a step back, insulted. Jack stifled the smirk of satisfaction. "If you do not wish to face me, then leave me to go on my way."
It paused. Then it pulled its katana from the ground and rested it casually on its shoulder. The creature narrowed its eyes briefly, before its body vaporized into nothingness.
He blinked. "Could it have actually left ?" he murmured, his eyes flickering around him warily. They fell upon the cumbersome sword in his grasp. His reflection in the blade was marred by trails of rainfall. He scrutinized the jagged wound that ran across his face, his jaw muscles rolling beneath his skin.
Jack lifted his head proudly, his gaze aimless. "I know you're out there," he stated, his voice resonating through the clearing. "Such tricks have been attempted before; they will afford you no advantage over me. Righteousness cannot be stopped by means of treachery." He fell silent for an instant. "If there is any humanity left within you, then you will face me honorably."
A cool wind blew, rustling the grass in the field. Jack scanned the distance, his eye distinguishing an unnatural darkness to his near left. The shade stood enshrouded by mist and shadow, its posture and billowing cape producing a strong, virtuous quality that was previously absent. Gradually, it stepped closer, moving with a quiet grace that reminded him of royalty. Perhaps it had once been a king.
Or a prince.
The specter halted, its head tilted down to look at him. Jack returned its gaze guardedly, unsure of what it was planning to do. With a flick of its wrist the shadow drove the elongated blade into the earth, then knelt at his feet with its head bowed. Jack was startled; his stance relaxed as he gawked at the humbled creature. "Do you surrender?" he asked, caught between suspicion and relief.
"I surrender," it grated, its hands wrapped around the hilt weakly.
Jack creased his brows, ignoring the burst of fire that ran across his skull. For the most part, the creature had fought with a clear code of honor. He was certain that it was once human, and that it had been enslaved by Aku. However, he had been deceived numerous times by those hiding under the cloak of good-will and righteousness. There was also the matter of the demon's original intention to kill him...
He closed his eyes, weighing compassion against pragmatism. Eventually he sighed, lowering his head. "You have proven yourself honorable," he uttered quietly. He spun his grip upon the large weapon, holding the handle out for the shade to take. "You are free to go."
The specter raised its head minutely and stared at the hilt reverently. Slowly, it closed a gnarled hand around the leather grip, then jabbed the tip of the sword into the ground beside the other. The creature rose to its feet and bowed respectfully. The samurai returned the bow, sheathing his katana with a hint of a relieved smile on his swollen and bleeding lips.
The specter held out its hand, its eyes flashing jovially. Jack looked at its featureless hand for an instant before clasping it with his own. "You are an impressive warr—"
Without warning, it clutched his wrist and pulled him forward harshly. It then slammed its knee into his chest, and the sharpened ridges of the joint notching into his ribs and snapping cartilage. Eyes wide, he sagged against its upraised leg, tasting copper on his tongue as he coughed painfully. The specter scowled and smashed its elbow against the sweltering laceration on his face.
Jack careened into the topsoil and rolled limply a few times before coming to a halt. Pinpricks of rain assailed his aching body as he sluggishly hauled himself to a kneeling position, wiping the spattering of blood from his face with trembling hands. He had been deceived. Again. Angered, his fingers encircled the hilt—
Stunned, he gaped at his side, to find only a loosened piece of sash in place of his sheath and sword. "What?"
The demon soared over the grass and rammed him onto his back with a nauseating crack. It knelt down, pressing its full weight on his ribs as it wrapped its crooked fingers on either side of his head. Snarling, Jack fought back the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and glared at the devious monster that loomed above him. If he were to die, he was going to face death with his eyes open.
The creature's eyes crackled with electricity as a dull glow poured from its hands. He felt a slight chill, one that was hauntingly reminiscent of a prior event. The creature shrieked, and for a split-second, he thought it was laughing.
Suddenly, a thousand white-hot claws raked over every inch of his body, shredding at his limbs. Jack clenched his fists and arched his back as his face knotted in agony. A scream of anguish built up in his burning lungs, but he willed himself to remain quiet. As wave after wave of blinding pain ripped through him, he felt a set of talons tug at his mind and spirit, greedily tearing away chunks of them both. Helpless, he watched with unabated horror as the memories of his homeland were plucked from him, absorbed into something cold and inhuman.
It was doing more than killing him. It was stealing his soul.
Jack mustered every scrap of strength that remained within him. He lifted his convulsing arms in defiance and clamped his hands down on both sides of the specter's head. A surge of ice bolted through his veins and darted up his spine. His eyes flew open. As the remainder of his essence was dragged from his body, his mind was abruptly filled with the knowledge of another.
Before him stood a solitary figure clad in all black, challenging the shape-shifting wizard with not one, but two holy blades. His skill was staggering, unearthly in its agility and elegance. Indeed, Jack grudgingly admitted that the warrior's swordsmanship was superior to his own. Yet, something was wrong. The warrior had somehow lost the battle, and was struck down by the wicked monster.
Images and sounds flitted through his scattered consciousness, flipping and twisting around him until they blurred together. An explosion of light surrounded him, drenching him in a cold so bitter that it burned. Distantly, he heard a tormented shriek. He didn't recognize the voice as his own.
Slowly, the curtain of white faded, and he found himself suspended in a vast expanse of nothingness. Thick brown clouds swirled above and below him, stretching to the horizon without ever seeming to touch. Flashes of color lit up the tumultuous whirlwinds, dull booms echoing through the bleary realm. He blinked, staring down at his hands and body. "What has happened?"
"You're in the abyss."
Startled, he wheeled around in the humid air, his eyes falling upon a man with a thick mane of long, white hair. The man was facing away from him. Without turning, he continued, "I am impressed; you are the only warrior to have ever survived absorption. You must have an incredible strength of will."
"Who are you?" the samurai inquired.
The figure slowly pivoted, staring over his plated shoulder with unnaturally brilliant eyes. "I am all that is left of my essence; the last remnants of my humanity within this soulless shell." The man twisted to face him fully, his gaunt face framed by ashen locks. "I know who you are, samurai. I know of your quest, and of your origin."
His expression remained impassive. "You have me at a disadvantage, for I know nothing of you."
"There is not much to tell," he lamented. "We are alike, you and I. Both born into leadership, trained from childhood in the hopes of one day reclaiming our birthright from the tyrant, Aku. I was the one beacon of hope in a world without any." He paused. "However, I had failed."
The warrior's lips quirked into a rueful smirk, a tale of remorse dancing through his piercing emerald eyes. "I had believed that the key to Aku's defeat lied within the power of my weaponry. In my foolishness, I had my soul bonded to the swords, rendering me virtually invincible for as long as I held them within my grasp." His hand balled into a tightly knotted fist. "Aku used the enchantment against me, disarmed me, and subjugated me to his will. Now, all that I'd ever been is trapped, locked away within the wretched blades that brought this fate upon me."
The samurai frowned, feeling an overwhelming surge of compassion. "Aku brought this fate upon you; nothing else."
The man chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "We are indeed alike, samurai. But so very different. You, Masamune, were forged out of purity and light, destined to protect the innocent with your strength. I, cursed Murasame, was born from death and darkness. My purpose was destruction, and nothing else. We are on opposing sides of the same coin; kindred spirits, but exact opposites."
The figure closed his eyes and rolled his head back upon his shoulders. "Your essence has been almost completely absorbed. I still retain enough control to disrupt the process, and send your soul back to its rightful place. But I must act now."
Jack furrowed his brows, noting absently that he was no longer wounded in this realm. "Is there nothing that can be done to reverse the spell Aku has wrought upon you?"
"To free me, you must break the enchantment that keeps me here," the warrior answered enigmatically, lifting his arms.
He felt himself being tugged away. "How do I accomplish that?" he asked urgently, fighting to remain in the abyss that entrapped them.
"Why are you resisting?" the man demanded, his face twitching in frustration. "You need to return quickly, before your chance is lost!"
"I cannot allow you to remain at Aku's mercy," the samurai answered, his voice firm with resolve. "How do I destroy the enchantment that binds you?"
The figure bared his teeth, colorless locks of hair whipping violently behind him. "You have to leave this place! Now!"
"Tell me how to free you, and I will," he replied.
The soldier's face suddenly became inquisitive, his eyes fluttering open to focus on Jack. "You're willing to risk your soul for another?"
He nodded. "I am."
The spirit gaped at him, his jade eyes flickering with something indescribable. "So very different," he murmured.
"And, yet, so alike," Jack countered calmly, a slight grin curving his lips.
His counterpart stared at him for another precious second before bowing humbly. "You must strike down what I have become with my own sword. It is the only way to break the enchantment."
Jack respectfully returned the bow, allowing himself to be gently pulled from the strange domain he had found himself in. "You shall be freed, warrior," he whispered into the darkness that blanketed itself around him.
He felt his essence slide back into the warmth of his body, a mixture of relief and awkwardness swirling through his mind. He quickly checked to make sure his memories were intact, and was surprised to find that he not only remembered his own experiences, but could easily recall the memories of the possessed warrior.
Then the pain came.
He sucked in a deep breath and was rewarded with a dozen knives thrusting into his lungs. He winced, grinding his jaw as a swell of lava bombarded his senses. Calling upon years of discipline, he forced the injuries to the back of his mind, opening his eyes.
The demon stomped down. Jack slid to the right and its clawed foot trampled the water-soaked grass a hair's breadth from his temple. Filled with purpose, Jack scampered to his feet, searching for the twin katanas. A hand gripped his gi and threw him forward. He planted his hands on the ground, wheeling around and harshly axing his leg against the shadow's head. It slammed into the mud face first, skidding through the field with a chunk of soaking white cloth in its fingers. Jack regained his balance and sprinted through the downpour.
He spotted the black leather hilts jutting from the meadow and reached for them. The shadow lunged from the mist, tackling him mere inches from the swords. It hooked an arm around his neck and with a taloned hand twisted his head painfully to the side. Jack clawed at the creature's iron grip, jabbing his elbow into its sides to no avail. He glared at the offending arm, grimacing distastefully.
He bared his teeth, and bit down.
The specter screeched, its hold loosening. Yanking the demon forward, Jack slammed the back of his head into its face with a wet crunch. He shoved it away and hopped sloppily over its prone form. Icy fingers snaked around his ankle, squeezing with enough force to crush the bones within to pulp. Rooting himself in place, Jack extended his arm; his fingertips whispered across the blade's handle.
'We are alike, you and I.'
'We are on opposing sides of the same coin; kindred spirits, but exact opposites.'
'Kindred spirits.'
Kindred.
Snarling, Jack stretched and finally captured the sword in his grasp. He wrenched it free as he fell to his side and belted the demon across the face with his free foot. It stumbled, landing on its backside. With failing strength and a determined roar, Jack lunged forward.
The shade howled shrilly as the curved blade pierced its torso, pinning it to the soft earth. Light exploded from the sword, swallowing its body in sizzling magical energy. Jack squinted his eyes, shielding his face with his hand. For an instant, the form of a human took shape within the shaft of light, its expression peaceful.
"I'm in your debt, samurai," the warrior said with a smile.
Jack opened his mouth to reply, but fell silent when the silhouette dissolved into the ray of mystical energy. The pool of white flared wildly, engulfing him. Jack gasped as a gentle warmth permeated his spirit, expelling his weariness with a rejuvenating gust of wind. It twined about his battered body like a network of vines, mending his wounds with a pure and delicate touch. It reached into the deepest corners his mind, soothing away his worries and doubts. For one fleeting moment, he felt safe, secure... happy.
After what could have easily been an eternity, the light dissipated into the landscape, replaced by the oppressive darkness of the late-night thunderstorm. Stunned, Jack leaned his full weight upon the hilt of the sword, his eyes wide. That was an experience unlike any hed ever felt before. The energy was more than a simple enchantment being broken; it had healed him as a parting gift, and offered him a split-second of bliss as a token of esteem.
It had been alive.
"Thank you, warrior," he murmured, running a finger over the newly restored flesh that covered the bridge of his nose.
He slowly rose to his feet, acutely noting the condition of the sword in his grip. What once was a finely-crafted weapon of destruction now protruded from the field as a rusted piece of scrap metal, its exquisite black leather hilt damaged and torn. His eyebrow arching in interest, he pivoted to look at the other katana, confirming his suspicions as his eyes washed over its dulled, worn-down blade.
He took a step forward, his geta tapping lightly against something hidden within the grass. Knitting his brows, he glimpsed downward to find his sword carefully arranged at his feet. He knelt, tentatively laying the ruined katana next to its twin, and stared at them sadly. The memories he had unintentionally acquired from the warrior were beginning to fade, but he still retained enough to understand that his greatest fear hadnt been death, but to die without purpose.
Jack gripped the polished wooden sheath of his katana absently, pursing his lips in thought. He couldn't let him vanish into oblivion. He had to do something...
His face lit up with an idea. Standing quickly, he slid his sword into the loose loop of his sash, and darted off into the surrounding forest.
---
The samurai sheathed his katana and stepped back to survey his handiwork. He'd spent the remainder of the night dragging a large chunk of the fallen redwood to the ruined swords and turning it into a crude memorial for the nameless warrior. The unknown man's twin blades stood proudly in front of the wooden monument, framing it. Satisfied, Jack pressed his palms together and bowed deeply. "I will continue to fight in your stead. We will succeed; I swear it," he stated quietly. "Rest well."
He rose, gazing at the monument for a moment longer, before turning on the heel of his geta and walking off into the distance.
The storm clouds had long since passed, leaving the sky uncovered as the sun rose. Wisps of morning light meandered into the lush clearing, highlighting an engraving made upon the makeshift testament. The short passage read only this:
To Kindred
Never Forgotten
--There ya go!--