Kurama's Tale
Chapter Four: Return to the Shadows of Work
Kurama walked slowly around the town, keeping his obscured ears alert for bits of information that might prove useful to him. The surrounding youkai spoke amongst themselves about various things, but none consisted of what he was looking for.
He knew he must get back to his work before he became too rusty and thus easier to catch. Lack of practice sends many, even seasoned, thieves to their deaths. He refused to be classified in this manner, instead choosing to keep his skills sharp and well-used. Strains of air wafted under his drab hood, flowing into his ears and under his nose, sending him information as it swirled around him.
"The Lord... treasure... new vault..."
A small group of youkai caught the kitsune's attention, whispers of words for which he had been searching for. Curiously, he approached the outskirts of the group, which was slowly accumulating more demons, as interested in this subject as he.
"What are you babbling about, Ayji?" a gruff voice beside Kurama demanded, from its thick jaws spewing bubbles of saliva. The tale-teller seemed to sigh in exasperation, but instead began his tale once again with, if it could be possible, more exuberance and detail then priorly.
"The Lord has a new vault to secure his treasure in since the last thieves nearly got into his old one. Its impenetrable! No demon will be able to get in and out alive with his treasure!" the story-teller boasted. It was clear that he himself was a guard at the palace he spoke of, judging by the swell of his chest as he willingly bragged about the castle's security. "Guards are everywhere! Even Youko Kurama wouldn't be able to get in!" he said proudly. A whisper went through the small crowd, mottled and nervous, and most of the youkai, even the ones who spoke of not being superstitious, proceeded to mark the air in front of their chest with the 'Evil Be gone' sign. Kurama smirked beneath his hood and backed away from the crowd, his information found. Perhaps this challenge would take his mind off the darkness that was around his life at the current moment.
Shadows were lengthy, stretched out upon the lawn at their leisure, and the stars shed little light to banish them that night. The palace courtyard lay cloaked in the stifling umbrage, hungrily consuming the earth and draping from trees as though dreary ebony scarves of void. Silver flashed here and there, as frosty as tinsel slithering along the branches of trees and stone walls, desperately seeking refuge near the shadows to let more of its meek kin sparkle down from heaven, hoping to push the shadows away. But it failed as the sickly starlight winked a sleepy tale in the night sky, unconcerned with the plight their rays gave the shadows, and vice versa. The moon was not to be seen on this night, swathed in darkness as though darkness held a being and voice in the matter of its absents. It grinned down broadly on the land, clotting in shadows with a heavily laden brush of black. The darkness was as cunning as a thief, and, at times, humorous, snickering wickedly where the sun and moon frowned and could do nothing to prevent it from its trickery. The night and darkness was a thief in its own right, swallowing up what the light was unable to touch and treasuring it as the luminescent orbs never would. It was just as the kitsune of whom it hid was. Ruthless, cunning, and wise in its own right.
Youko Kurama let his eyes scan over the premises as he had done so often before in the past few weeks. In that short span of time he had learned everything from the guard's rotation hour to the youkai lord's favorite meal. Tonight's treasure was a mystical scythe withheld in a box that possessed the most cryptic of codes, doubly enforced with an advanced seal. This would be the biggest theft of the decade for him. The reward would be fulfilling mentally as well as physically. It would prove that he still had what it took to break the most advanced codes and seals, as well as get past the massive amounts of guards that stood watch over the palace.
His last steal with Kuronue had hardly been worth his time. He hadn't even used his true powers, which included shape-shifting and illusion casting. Manipulating plants was just child's play. Yes, perhaps this would give him a challenge.
He stole forward swiftly and quietly, being sure not to let the leaves of the thick trees rustle in his wake. He burnished his skin darker to blend in with his surroundings, soiling it with pure scents of the earth and scattering over its surface patterns that sharply resembled that of a large, predatory cat such as a leopard or jaguar. He quietly stalked around the palace, getting into position that would suit him. He knew that the guard change would be soon, and knew exactly which guards were to change places. Changing his shape once again, he assumed the form of a bird-like youkai with dark blue feathers and hateful orange eyes. He made a slight rustle in the trees, grabbing the guard's attention.
"Agako?" the guard currently on duty asked, turning dark brown eyes to the direction of the approaching youkai. Kurama made a grunting squawk that his current form, Agako, made as a greeting. The other guard, who's skin was a deep violet color, sighed and smiled.
"Glad to see it was only you. For a minute I thought it could be Youko Kurama!" the guard said nervously, giving a faulty laugh. Kurama could only smirk at the irony behind the mask of his current shape. Instead he gave a grunting agreement and nodded.
"Yeah, well, I'd better get going. Thanks for being early like I asked. I really need to get back," he said, stepping around Kurama and starting towards the forest.
A shifting in the brush made the guard stop and narrow his eyes. Kurama, who had turned to watch him go, sniffed the air and glared into the forest from which he had just emerged from.
"Who goes?" the guard demanded, his hand straying to his katana at his side. A grunting squawk, identical to the one Kurama had given, sounded from the foliage. Bewildered, the guard glanced back at Kurama as the real Agako exited through the trees.
"What's going on?" the guard asked. Imagination clicked and he backed away from both, his hand settling on the katana at his side as he glared at both of them, sweat forming on his brow. Knowing that convincing the guard that he was the true Agako would be difficult, Kurama let his energy expand slightly, forcing it into the ground beneath his feet. Both guards stared in wonder at the kitsune, unaware of the energy he was pouring into the ground and into the tree's behind them. But it did not take them long to realize what the youkai had been doing.
Tree limbs rushed down from their hiding place and wrapped themselves securely around their throats, twisting as they were bidden by the kitsune, making their necks crack simultaneously in death. Their mouth's agape and their eyes glossy in death, they stood there as though frozen in time. Kurama released a bit more of his energy and the trees withdrew back into the forest quietly, dragging their kills along with their branches.
Satisfied that the two would no longer pose a threat to his mission, Kurama shape-shifted into another guard that was to overtake the position of yet another bouncer inside the palace. Things went according to plan yet again and the guard, as well as the one he had posed as fell dead within minutes of each other, blood trickling slowly down the corners of their mouths in remembrance as to how they had struggled to scream under the demon's powerful claws, and failed.
There was only one more guard to go, and his shift would not be over for another hour, so when he was killed the kitsune had an hour to play with until the guard that took his place would notice how his fellow bouncers had fallen and sound the alarm in reaction.
Kurama crept up to the guard in his silvery fox form, impaling his claws into the back of the guard's neck and twisting it with a grinding crack that resounded throughout the hall. He paused and let the body fall to the ground with a quiet thump. He stepped over it indifferently, shaking the blood from his claws, his four magical tails waving as though in farewell to the departing soul.
Before him lay the vault, which lay inviolable from intruders. Its walls were made of enforced steel and its lock radiated a breed of magic of which he had not come across before, although its energy did seem to be familiar. He eyed it skeptically, unwilling to touch it should it sound a silent alarm. He pulled from beneath his silvery hair a large needle and proceeded to thrust it into the padlock-like structure that served as a lock for the vault. When nothing occurred he gently let his energy seep into the metal, letting it adapt to more and more quantities until he was satisfied that it would sound no alarm should he touch it.
Using the spine yet again, he let it mold to the contours of the lock in which he had placed it in until it shaped a rough key. He turned the lock slowly and deliberately, listening for the distinct click that announced that the vault had successfully been unlocked.
Tink.
With his brow furrowed in a baffled expression, he made to open the vault door. Strange how one would boast so loudly about such lousy security. Taking out the guards had been effortless and the lock that protected the vault was nothing worth boasting about. But, he reasoned, the town was not a rich one, and such security must have been quite expensive and thus very impressive. With a steady hand he pushed open the vault's door.
What awaited him there was no horde of treasures, gems gleaming from the outside light cast in to chase shadows from the faces of rare jewels. Instead, there sat a box. A wooden crate that seemed to have traveled many miles and survived much rough handling. His golden eyes looked at it curiously after noticing that there was no tell-tale sparkle of sought-after goods. The box was worn and chipped of its wooden exterior in places, although not enough to show its contents. There was a simple alert scroll slapped onto its face that, when it or its charge was disturbed by something with large amounts of Spirit Energy, gave a bellowing howl that could make one with ears as keen as Kurama's fall deaf. But the kitsune had mastered the art of removing these scrolls long ago, and so it posed no threat to him.
He moved forward quietly, his soft slipper shoes silent on the bare wooden floor. He crouched before the box, observing its surface carefully. Surely this weathered old box could not be what all the fuss was about? Yet things were known to be more than they appeared, this he learned from years along the path of thievery.
Kurama thrust his right hand into his pocket, searching for an unseen item that lay there. He pulled his hand out after a few seconds of searching, revealing a small seed that couldn't have been larger than a pinhead. Its hue was bright red from his Spirit Energy. He seduced the seed into hiding his energy within itself, thus so the alarm scroll could not detect it until it was already destroyed. Turning back to the box he dropped the seed onto the scroll, which flashed slightly as it dictated whether or not the foreign object was a threat. Concentrating on the seedling, the thief let his Spirit Energy grow and feed the plant.
It didn't take long for the seed to grow, the poison lacing its roots burning the scroll like acid, disintegrating its ward until it was little more than smoke. Retracting his energy, Kurama willed the plant back into its seeding state. Once fully retransformed, the kitsune picked up the seed and replaced it in his pocket for later use.
With that small task aside, he looked back to the box, now slightly charred from where the scroll had once laid. He ran his eyes over its surface, searching for any signs of containment scrolls or any other magic that might give him away.
A slight creak in the wood surrounding the vault, which hid the stone walls behind it, caught his attention. He froze in mid-search, his ears in search of footsteps outside the vault. When he found none he let his breath return to its normal pace and resumed his search on the box a few minutes later. Satisfied that there was nothing to further hinder his steal, he let his hands move onto the rough surface of the rough, unsanded wood.
Light made a blinding flash, erupting in the darkness as lightening does from the sky, causing the kitsune to close his beautiful golden eyes against its harshness and bring his hand up to shield them as he struggled to make out what caused such a blast.
What was this?!
Authoress' Note: Well now. This chapter is getting into the story. But, as I've said before, this story wont be long. If there's three more chapters, I'll be surprised. But I do thank everyone for their interest!
Reviews:
Yavie Aelinel: thank you very mooch! Thanks for the review!
Minakara:
thanks!
REVIEWS FEED AN AUTHOR LIKE COOKIES!
J
