Chapter Three

Nightmares

Nathan's gaze was mostly directed upon his soft leather boots as they barely made a sound against the ground. They had been dyed black, to match the rest of his creative costume. Some conversations had conspired themselves to include the whole group, but he stayed silent. He always stayed silent, unless spoken to. And when he was mentioned, he looked up with a smile that showed not a hint of his intentions. Though beneath this casual mask, he was planning. There'd be no way he could get past all of them. Inuyasha with his oversized knife, Sango with her boomerang type weapon, and Miroku... he didn't know what the other could do, but he still smelled odd. And the girl, Kagome, had her arrows. No doubt she could shoot. He was often found frowning when he wasn't being adressed.

He hadn't even noticed when the moon had risen, and he probably would've walked the whole night if not for Kagome's suggestion of rest. He paused at that, stuffing his thoughts away for now and glanced around. It appeared to be a good spot. Peaceful, green, like a meadow, and there was a well out in the open not far. It made him smile. A small peaceful place. Much like the places Folara liked to camp. His smile turned to a pained one at the memory of his deceased sister, and as he had so many times, he cancelled out that thought. Not realizing Miroku and Inuyasha were eyeing him like he were diseased, and that they shouldn't get too close.

They soon had a small fire going, and offering his services, Nathan offered to gather more wood, and whether to watch him, or show him up, Inuyasha went as well. So there they were, alone in the forestry echoing with the chirps of crickets, and the dull crackling of the fire not far off, which he was sure Inuyasha would hear as well. He glanced at the other over a bundle of wood which was growing larger.

"Why do you dislike me so, Inuyasha?" Nathan asked openly. Not bothering to hide the obvious question. So far, he himself wasn't approving of any in the group, but there was no way he'd let them no. Instead of getting the answer he thought he'd get, he recieved one that tickled his ribs, and made him want to laugh.

"Look," Inuyasha turned on him with a sudden heat in his voice, "Nobody asked you to come along and take the place of half demon, alright?" Nathan blinked, opening his mouth to get a word in, but Inuyasha's voice drove right over his own. Near a yell almost. "We didn't ask for you to come, you jsut show up. If you ever think of hurting Kagome... erm, or any of them," he added as an after thought, which made Nathan's lip twitch into a smirk. He could already see what was obvious, but he let Inuyasha's words wash over him as he turned and began heedlessly collecting wood. He was jumpstarted by a snappy, "Hey! Are you listening to me?"

He turned with his arms bundled with wood, and never dropping a piece, he smiled at Inuyasha, what was meant to be one of friendship, and simply said, "You are an odd one, I'll admit that. But I'm heading back. I think they could use the logs for the fire." He did laugh openly at the blank stare Inuyasha gave him, and shaking his head, he set off to the smell of woodsmoke. It's not like he couldn't see in the dark, he just liked to alternate things.

He stepped into the small ring of light, greeted by four sets of eyes, he grinned again and knelt, stacking the wood in a neat pile, not even bothering to look up for when the white haired behemoth came. But when he heard the footfalls of the other approaching, it was then he noticed Kagome's eyes lingering on him. He noticed without really meaning to, and to ignore it, he simply sat down with his back against a tree. Out of the small illuminated ring so he was nothing but a dim lump in the shadows.

One by one the other's dropped off to sleep, but Inuyasha had not. He could tell by how the other was breathing. Shaking his head he moved down into a

laying position and closed his eyes, sleep coming with surprising ease to sweep him away from these odd people he knew nothing of. But even as he fell asleep, he could feel those burnished eyes watching him. Trust would be a large asset. He would need trust before he could get what he wanted. No... not what he wanted. What he needed. But all thoughts were lost to the dark abyss that was sweet sleep.

And then he dreamt...

"Nathan, oh Nathan, stop fussing!" Folara said in a firm tone as she set the swaddled infant in his arms. He stared wide eyed at the flame haired relative and bit his lip. He was used to killing. He had become so accustomed to killing, and he felt, in truth, scared, to be holding the infant. Afraid that any little move he made could harm it, but the child just stared intently up at him with her emerald gaze. With a gurgled giggle, she reached up for his ears, and with a soft chuckle, he gave in and bowed his head.

He started at a sharp tug to his hair and stared dumbfoundedly at the child, then glanced up at Folara. "Maybe... uhh, maybe you should take her back." He said nervously, eyeing the child again, who seemed perfectly content with him.

"Oh nonsense Nathan, you're just being silly. You're fine, and you're going to be fine." His sister stated firmly as she tied up her hair that flowed down to the middle of her back, which exposed one of the bruises given to her by the father of this child. To see that made Nathan tense. He knew he should've been there to help his sister, but instead, he simply killed the man after his business had been done.

"I think... I think I shall call her... Heron. What do you think Nathan?" She asked, looking up at him as she began buckling her sword belt at her waist, grinning at the child.

"I uhh... It's a nice name, Folara." He murmered and turned his attentions on the child. Heron. Cute little Heron. He smiled, wondering if she would take after her mother. His sister. No doubt she would. It's not like he would stay around for long. Not with his tendencies. He grinned as Heron, yes, that was her name, took his finger in her hand and watched him with those emerald eyes. Staring at him intently, as though trying to figure out who and what he was. That was when Folara took her back.

He looked up, seeming relieved and forlorn at the same time. He sighed as he watched Folara. She was fifteen, himself only two years older, and already a mother. It didn't seem right. She had been so care free, and to have her spirit be committed to a child just didn't seem right. Atleast, not yet, but when her own emerald gaze swept over him, he forced a smile. "She has your eyes Folara." He murmered softly, smiling at her. "You will make a good mother."

"And you a good father, someday Nathan." She said and smirked back at him, seeming amused now. "And don't try telling me it will never happen, because you will meet somebody Nathan..." She looked up at him for a brief moment. "You will..." She trailed off, and a look of sadness entered into her eyes. She may have claimed someday he'd find love, but not even she was sure she could believe it. He was a half demon, and well... nobody accepted them.

With a small shake of his head he quickly moved to kick the ashes of the fire over. "We should get moving." He said to dismiss the sudden feeling of unease gathering between them.

Although it was clearly light out, the area seemed to darken with the loss of the flame. He heard Folara's breath catch, and he spun to face a figure nearly a hand taller than him, and he himself was over 6 feet. Gasping he stepped back. He knew that figure, from childish nightmares, never knowing what they meant. It was his first encounter. With Moridin...

He groaned softly in his sleep and turned over onto his side, slipping back into dreams.

He lay half concious, clutching at the gaping wound in his side. He was now twenty three years old, and laying as helpless as a babe. Yes, he had escaped from Moridin for the time being, but with dear cost. He was unaware of the figure approaching on silent feet until they placed a hand on his shoulder. He had not even smelled them coming.

With a yelp of fear, he sat up, lunging out with his claws and catching something solidly in between bone. Ribs he estimated. He could already feel more blood dribbling down the laywer of already dried blood. He finally recovered from his blind strike and froze when he saw the horrified gaze of his sister staring into his black eyes.

He looked down as if what he saw was untrue, but sure enough, his hand was halfway embedded in her chest. Striking her lung he already knew, and it was nearly as good as strangling a person. His gaze returned to Folara's already half glazed eyes and with a panicked outcry, he tore his claws from her ribs and caught her with his other arm around her shoulders, his chest already heaving with sobs. He knew she was dieing. He knew he couldn't help.

She gurgled wordlessly as blood entered her lungs, and it seemed an eternity that he stared into those frightened eyes of his dieing sister. Holding disbelief, and fear, but never hate. With a final gasp, she collapsed against him, and he felt no pulse, could hear no failing breath, and grief hit him hard as a rock as tears spilled from his overflowing eyes and he held Folara to him. Her lifeless gaze staring blankly past him. He didn't even care her blood was equally staining his clothes, but his hands were already a mess, he no longer cared.

He had killed his own sister, the final look of fear in her eyes haunting him. He could still smell her fragrance over the stinging sensation of blood that dizzied him. "Folara..." He whispered her name, and then set her down on the ground with a shakey sigh. He threw back his head and howled, howling with such fury and grief. His tone loud and searing the air so that it would be heard for miles, and more to come. Mourning for what was lost... For what was lost...