Forgetfulness Sleeps
Part II- As trappings of Feathers.
Like a painting
we shall be rubbed out,
like a flower
we must dry up
upon the earth.
As trappings of feathers
of the quetzal, of the zacuan,
of the azulejo, we shall eventually perish.
There is nothing for it.
We shall all perish altogether, four by four,
and this false life of the book capriciously painted
and rubbed out by the divinity
is our sole opportunity for existence
-Nezahualcoyotl-
Koiku stared at the contents of the chalice in her hands. The chalice was one of her most prized possessions. Not because it was particularly beautiful (it was much too plain) but because of the power it held. The clay chalice had the ability to show it's owner anything it desired to see so long as the events were happening at that very moment. Koiku was thus able to be witness to any event happening in even the most remote parts of the world if she desired.
At the moment she was watching the aftermath of her last spell. She felt a thrill of pride and contentment. It had been an incredibly difficult spell and she had succeeded fully.
When Naraku had first walked into her hut and explained what he needed of her she had been incredulous. To chant a spell upon a Demon Lord who was fully versed in magic and the reincarnation of a powerful priestess? Impossible. She had refused to even look into it. But Naraku had been convincing, offering her nearly one fourth of the Shikon no Tama. What she could do with such power!
It had taken her over four moons of traveling to remote temples and caves, searching through all kinds of ancient texts, talking to powerful witches, priests, monks, demons, basically any being with magic. Then, after finding the right spell, obtaining the necessary items had not been an easy task. Had Naraku not sent one of his children, Kagura, to help her she would have taken much longer to prepare for the spell.
Finally, with all the needed items Koiku had to wait for the full moon, the moment when her powers would be the most intensified. Naraku had proven useful by guiding the demon and priestess to the correct place and masking her magic. Koiku had been unable to do it, since the casting of the spell by itself had been unbelievably arduous and tiring. A spell of that magnitude required an immense amount of power, and even with her powers increased by a Shikon shard (Naraku had given it as the first part of her payment) her magic had been spent. It would take many moons to replenish her magic by natural means, but with the Shikon shards she would be restored quickly.
It had taken so long, but it had all been worth it. The spell had been successful, even more so than imagined. The demon and priestess had fallen under the spell powerless, and had played their parts beautifully. Naraku would be pleased to no ends and she would be rewarded most handsomely.
Koiku left the chalice on the table and prepared to go to Naraku's castle
to claim her payment.
During a fleeting moment of curiosity she wondered just what Naraku
achieved from the joining of a demon and a priestess.
It must have been something great, for a fourth of the Shikon no Tama.
~0~
Inside what used to be a prosperous mansion, and now was host for the countless corpses of it's previous inhabitants; through the dark halls that were once filled with sunshine and that now echoed hollowly. The fine chambers that had served as a study to it's former owner now had the same purpose for it's new owner. Someone much more powerful, but that much more merciless.
He sat calmly as though the palace did not reek of death and devastation, as though it didn't matter; most likely because to him, it didn't.
He sat while a little white haired girl held a mirror to him, showing him it's contents. It seemed, to those who cared to see, as though he were very deeply interested in the mirror's reflection. But the mirror didn't reflect, it played a story of it's own. A story where a demon and a young girl where the lead players in a bizarre story of lust and seduction.
He smiled, but not that graceful arc of the mouth that spoke of happiness; rather a ghastly imitation that showed a furtive peer into the macabre thoughts behind the darkly handsome face.
"Naraku?"
"What is it Kagura?"
"That witch, Koiku, is here. She wants her payment."
His gaze turned to the woman for only a moment, and then it was on the mirror again. "Does she now?" He smiled again, this time contempt being the lead emotion. "Very well. She was very useful; did her job very nicely."
The woman still stood waiting for the orders she knew were coming.
"Dispose of her."
Kagura nodded and walked out, but not without hearing her master's last words.
"And Kagura? Bring back the Shikon shard immediately afterwards."
Naraku's previous interest in the image on the mirror seemed to dissipate as he asked the child to show him a different image, one of a hawk demon with a Shikon shard.
He sat dismissing the previous happenings as unimportant, as though they had not just altered the lives of two beings who were unlucky enough to be in his way.
He sat as though he didn't care that he had just intricately woven two different pathways together, as trappings of feathers.
Most likely because he truly did not care.
~0~
Sesshomaru opened his eyes slowly, trying to dispel the lethargic haze that lingered heavily through his consciousness. He wondered why it was suddenly such a difficult task, as it had never been before. Sleep was to him something not altogether unnecessary but nearly so. He, like any other being, needed to sleep in order to dispose of excess information through his dreams, yet the amount he required was very small; perhaps a couple of hours every month or so. Any more was just for pleasure.
So it wasn't a common occurrence for him to struggle in order to wake from his slumber. That, coupled with the realization that he was outdoors (as the sudden breeze led him to believe) was a clear sign that something was definitely wrong.
He at last managed to open his eyes and simply stared at the stars visible through the treetops while he got a hold of his bearings. He was laying on the cool ground -unclothed- in a forest. Had he been severely wounded in a battle? No... he felt no pain. He did feel, however, a light but constant pressure on his right arm and a warm body curled next to him. His eyes widened as he realized just who that warm body was.
Inuyasha's wench. That pathetic little human. He had copulated with the little vermin. The memories of the act were rapidly replaying in his mind, unbidden and all the more unwelcome because of it. He had copulated with a human, not any human either (which would have been a disgrace by itself), but his bastard brother's bitch. He quickly removed himself from her side taking care not to disturb her, things were bad enough as they were. He watched as she frowned at the sudden loss of warmth and shifted slightly, but did not wake.
He had taken that thing... He felt soiled, corrupted. He felt the stain of her skin on his, her scent, her very essence running over his flesh steadily, engulfing him completely. He had lain with her. He had lost control.
Or, he had been deliberately made to lose control.
His teeth ground tightly in anger and his already obscure youki darkened to a level not seen for a long time. Naraku. The honorless, conniving halfling. He had dared to stoop to such a low trick. Sesshomaru would dismember him slooowly, tear his heart out and make him choke on it. He would not let this go unpunished.
His eyes rested on the unclothed human girl again and he internally berated himself for his weakness. He was the almighty Lord of the Western Lands, feared and respected by all. He was powerful, wise and deadly. He should not have succumbed to any spell, none at all. But he had.
He had been too weak.
He growled furiously and stared at the human. He despised her, wanted nothing more than to rip her tiny body into a shapeless pulp of meat and bones. It would be so easy... one movement with his claw and she would be torn into ribbons. The damned insect didn't deserve to live, in any case.
Yet he couldn't do it. Or wouldn't, rather, because he definitely could. He could easily take out his frustration on her, but it would be as lowly as Naraku's stunt. Blaming the wench for their coupling would be a shallow lie. He, the mighty Demon Lord, had fallen to the curse. She being human, younger, and weaker could have never fought it. He understood her total lack of resistance. That, however, did not mean he was sympathetic. He stared at the wench venomously, wishing with all his might that she were not there at that moment, that they had not done what they did.
He exhaled slowly and looked at the sky again. It would be dawn in an hour at most. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He dressed quickly and, with one last murderous look to the sleeping girl, headed for a spring sufficiently far away from the place to wash her scent away.
Once there he undressed and stepped into the water. He scrubbed his skin until it was raw, trying to get the feeling of her off him. He submerged himself in the water again and stood up.
He was totally and utterly disgusted with himself. Disgusted because he had been weak. Disgusted because he had fallen right into a trap. Disgusted because he had lain with a human.
But most of all, disgusted because he had enjoyed it.
~@~
I got many nice reviews that prodded me to continue writing even though
I really have no time. It is currently 4 AM here in Mexico City and I should
be by all rights sleeping, especially seeing how I have a UAM entrance
exam today at 2 PM. I HAVE to pass these exams, otherwise I'm left college
less, seeing how I have no money to pay for a private University. I took
the UNAM test already, which is my first choice, but it's nearly impossible
to get in, so the UAM is my second option. By April 6th I will know whether
or not I passed both exams, so by then you will have either a giddy, happy
author, or a depressed, moody and nearly suicidal one.
Pray for me, oh readers.
Now to fic news. Some people asked for a lemon. I will state this again:
I will not write it. If you want a lemon that much you can think about
writing your own, but no lemon from Meztli. On happy news, Forgetfulness
Sleeps got nominated in the First Annual Single Spark Fanfiction Awards,
and so did my joint fic with Shampoo, Between Demons and Mathematics. I'm
very happy. Go check out the page for yourself and vote for your favorite
authors at
I have read most of the works of the other authors and they are very
talented. Compared to them, the chances of me winning an award are very
much null, but it is still an incredible honor to be nominated. Thanks
to whomever nominated Shampoo and I.
Between Demons... is a joint fic, so it does not totally depend on
me. Shampoo is as, if not more, busy as I, and it would be unfair of me
to ask her to put aside her life to dedicate her time to a fic. I support
Shampoo wholly and will not pressure her into writing anything. She will
do so if and when se decides to. I understand that it is frustrating to
read a fic that is unfinished, but it is as frustrating for us to not be
able to find time to finish it. Sorry, but life has a way to twist things.
D&T Smurf: It's an athame, and I'm glad someone can emphasize with
the pain of being an only girl in a family of five children.
Drop a line and tell me what you think so far. I cherish every review.
It means you went out of your way to support my writing attempts.
Ciao,
Meztli