Silence. Then Higurashi's mocking laughter rings clear over some faint screeching sounds and the chink of falling glass. Yoko throws off his friends and bolts to his feet, prepared to chase after his love into death. But he stops.
And stares. Higurashi's laughter trails into silence.
Chink. Chink. Chink-chink.
The fervent but unintelligible cursing of Hiei can be heard clear across the field, as he takes in the sight of the gold dragon with its teeth sunk into the ice-plates armoring the left shoulder of a white-scaled, aqua-eyed dragon shoved against the spire, her graceful neck curved over the gold's own back.
"Well," comments the ice dragon in a sibilant, windy voice, "I suppose that answers that question." A whip-thin tail cracks against the gold's rump with an annoyed flick. "Now get your teeth out of my shoulder this second, if you please."
Fangs are extracted from the cracked and shattered plating with the sound of metal-on-glass and Kin'iro-Ryu backs away slowly, hunched in a defensive position while Aislin examines her new self. The best word to describe her dragon-form is 'elegant', the overall effect resembling an Eastern dragon combined with one from the West.
A slender body bunches with a few more extra muscles at shoulders and hip, head tapered and slim-muzzled as a deer's with a single pair of spiraling sapphire horns curving up and back over a silky, snowy crest touched by vermilion. Oddly at home on this blending of forms is a pair of massive, heavily-scaled wings, the actual-sized versions of those Hiei and Yoko have seen numerous times before on the rare occasions when Aislin has preferred flying over ground-travel.
A huge sapphire is set into the opalescent scales on that broad forehead, gleaming in the dusty sunlight with all the radiance of the ocean. The scales are textured in such a pattern as to make it seem that the ice dragon has just rolled through drifts of fresh powder.
Those aqua eyes, now easily the size of her apparition body, turn from a detailed examination of the pearly claws tipping each toe on all four bird-like feet to the gold hissing angrily from a 'safe' distance away. Aislin uncoils from her seat and barrels into the summoned beast, rolling around and around with her jaws sunk deep into the softer scales below the gold's chin, her talons digging in for all they're worth.
In the distraction, Yoko comes back to his senses and starts creeping around the battle-field, wincing as high-pitched shrieks and whistles make his head vibrate in new, painful ways. His goal is the two still forms lying behind the hated reptile on that accursed altar. With any luck at all, he can reach them and steal Obsidian and Ivory away before Higurashi can notice.
Meanwhile Kuwabara, with one of his uncanny flashes of insight, grabs Yusuke's arm and points towards the writhing mass of fighting dragons with his eyes alight. "Urameshi!" he hisses to his friend, "Aislin said we can't get into that brawl, right?"
"Yeah, or else I'd stick a Spirit Gun where the sun don't shine on that overgrown snake!"
A hard shake as Kuwabara says what has just hit him. "Did she say anythin' about messin' with that snake?" And he points straight at Higurashi, too absorbed in the millennia's biggest fight to notice that more attention has been focused on him.
And it's not friendly attention, either.
Yusuke's sullen expression is replaced with a wicked, merry smile as he ponders the question. "No, Kuwabara, no she didn't." He shakes off the psychic's arm and takes a few steps forward, hand rubbing his chin as he calculates distance, angle, and chance of interception—all without being aware that he does so.
"Hn," grunts Hiei, "so the fool's only partially useless."
"Go kiss a slug demon, you sorry excuse for a pincushion!"
Kohaku snickers while Yusuke scrambles to the last remaining spire in reach—well clear of the battle, it rises to a good thirty feet in the air, plenty of space for Yusuke to get around the dragons still hissing and spitting like cats crossed with snakes rolling in the dust. Hiei sighs and stands back, stolidly ignoring Kuwabara, who falls back into old patterns and continues ranting at the fire apparition.
——
What none of them know about is the pain of the Avalon twins still in the Void, watching the titanic struggle between their chosen mother and the Final Dragon in their viewing pool. Watching the two dragons thrash on the ground, however, and seeing those lethal talons find the tiny chinks in between the heavy scales to rip away pieces of flesh, proves too much for Obsidian.
With a grief-wracked cry the black fox leaps to his feet and runs once again for his sanctuary, his cherry tree. The Dragon-Self, now forged into one being for the first time in millennia, chooses to go after him with one reluctant look back at stone-faced Ivory, kneeling by the pond in silent weeping.
Obsidian collapses against the gnarled trunk of his haven, feeling the sakura tumbling down in a heavier shower in an effort to bring peace, his shoulders shaking with the force of his despair. Strong, comforting arms draw him gently into an embrace, and he clings with all the strength in his 'body' to Dragon-Self. "It's not—it's not f-fair!" he hiccups to his guardian. "She sh-shouldn't have t-to do this!"
"No, young Obsidian," agrees Dragon-Self, "it's not fair, and she should not. Nor should any of us have to deal with any of what has occurred. But we've had to, because those are the desires of he who has summoned our physical form and controls our icon. Place the blame upon him, and him alone."
"But why?" wails the poor renard. "Why should we have to obey him?"
"Because that is sympathetic magic, sweet foxling, and there is nothing in this world of energy that can change that. No one has been able to utterly defy such magic since the time of its creation." A broad hand gently comes to rest between the flattened ears. "Nor will I simply allow you to find Death's embrace, either, not until they day you are fated to die comes. And that is not today."
"But—"
"NO." The degree of vehemence with which that denial is spoken shocks Obsidian into silence, except for a squeak that results from an unconscious tightening of Dragon's arms. Contrite, the spirit loosens its hold once again into that warm embrace. "No, Obsidian Avalon. Souls such as you and your sister are far too rare in this day and age. I will not let your spark be put out prematurely."
"You don't talk much like a dragon."
The Spirit smiles wryly. "I've lived for several thousand years beyond my flesh. You learn things." For a while longer the pair stands there, until at last Obsidian's companion pulls slightly away. "There. Feel a little better?" When the young renard nods, his ears are ruffled in affection. "Good. I'm going to go check on your sister and make sure she hasn't done anything drastic—like throw herself into the pool. You stay here and keep yourself out of trouble."
The black fox simply leans against the thick trunk of the cherry tree while Dragon does as it said it would. Since no cry of dismay rises from that direction, he has to assume that Ivory's own shock is keeping her in a kind of paralysis. He'd go to her, if he could stand seeing his chosen mother fight for her life and their own.
Instead, he contemplates what he has learned about the magics performed today. Higurashi had cut his finger and Ivory's for the blood needed to complete the summoning spell. He'd also used strands of their hair, and a bit of the snake's own flesh to mark him as master and controller.
Then his mind turns to what Sun-Soul had said, before the five fragments had merged into one Self again. That for this to be over, the Dragon-Self could break a piece of itself, or he could die. Honestly, he could see which one he preferred, and which one would fulfil his blood-oath to Kou the Topaz Cat.
Now a cry of horror rises from the vicinity of the pool. But it isn't Dragon's, it's Ivory's. And Obsidian doesn't need to see the pool to know that the fight has just taken a turn for the worst. Bracing himself for what he's about to do, the black fox conjures a Japanese style dagger, takes a deep breath, and plunges it into his heart.
——
Aislin is losing. Despite the fact that she now matches Kin'iro-Ryu pound for massive pound, her body is still heavily injured from her earlier hits. And it's very hard to keep a grip on someone's throat when your lungs keep contracting away from the fires of broken ribs.
After a good five minutes of her impromptu wrestling match, the other dragon finally hurls her off into a breathless heap of tail and neck and wings. Bleeding from all the gashes she's given it, it approaches with that thousand-kettles whistle piercing her eardrums.
"Yeah, and your mother was a wyvern," she gasps in retort, then cries out in dismay as the last of her energy fails her, dissolving her back into her petite ice-fox form in a cloud of platinum dust. The whistling takes on an edge of pleasure, drowning out the frantic cries of her friends as she watches that graceful head coming down for her a second time…
Only to hear the meaty thud of flesh impacting on flesh. Turquoise eyes open to find massive coils of jeweled scales surrounding her. Familiar jeweled scales. It takes a moment for her to get her lungs to work again from their shrinking, but she manages to squeak out, "Thre…Threnody?"
"Little bird," comes the not-particularly-amused voice of the naga from somewhere beyond the protective coil, "did you really think that after all the time I spent waiting for a chance to swallow you down, I'd let an overgrown worm do it instead?"
"No," Aislin coughs. "'Magine not."
The dragon is confused. First furry-thing went to being not-furry-thing, then turned into a white-Self, then went back to being non-furry-thing. And just as smart self was going to eat not-furry-thing, big-scaly-thing showed up and tried to bite smart-self. What is going on?
Then the world is filled with electric blue light and the triumphant shout of Yusuke, as the sun-gold bubble shield around Higurashi goes POP! Or more accurately, goes boom in a most spectacular fashion! The snake demon scrambles back and off to the far side of the altar, leaving Yoko a clear shot for the twins.
And he takes it, swooping in and snatching up both young kits as if they weigh nothing—and to someone of his physical strength, they seem to. The Silver Thief has them all the way back to the others before a chilling fact breaks through the adrenaline-triggered rush. The substance dampening the back of his sleeveless shirt isn't sweat.
It's blood.
——
Obsidian slumps against his tree, watching his blood puddle around him. He'd never noticed how red blood really is. It almost looks like a piece of fire. He manages to swallow a hysterical giggle at the thought it might start burning him any second. He wonders why he's still here and not on the Styx yet. Heart wounds are supposed to kill you instantly, right?
Footsteps herald the return of Dragon, and a strangled gasp of denial pinpoints when the Spirit sees him. In an instant hands are trying to staunch the blood, a foot kicking away the dagger he'd pulled out just after stabbing himself. He'd remembered how such wounds always bled more when the trauma-inducer—what a weird word, 'trauma'—wasn't in the way, and the faster he goes, the better.
Dragon doesn't think so. "Oh, you foolish, foolish fox! Didn't I tell you not to die? Why? Why did you do this?"
He tries to respond in Japanese or even Common, but only a Latin phrase he'd read somewhere comes spilling out of his mouth. "Faber est quisque fortuna suae."
"But this wasn't needed! Don't go, Obsidian! Death isn't the answer!" By now Ivory has heard the distressed cries and comes running over, face going white at the horrifying vision before her: Obsidian, his black open-front shirt darkening with blood, a splash of crimson slicking its way down the bare skin to soak into his crimson belt, staining it deeper red. But instead of fear or pain, all she can read in his face is peace, and a curious kind of triumph.
"Oh, Obsidian," she whispers, walking over to her brother with tears streaming down her face. "You're an idiot, you know that?" His head nods, voice stolen away. And even while Dragon tries vainly to staunch the wound, Ivory leans in close to murmur into her twin's ear. "I escaped the hold of Spirit World by using a doppleganger spell. You remember that one? Aislin taught it to us our first week as thieves. Try to come back to us soon, 'Dian. We'll miss you."
Blood-foamed lips curve into a beatific smile as a hand tries to rise enough to touch her cheek; she lifts it there herself, and remains in that position even when the soul of her twin brother incandesces…and is gone.
——
The only two people who don't know about the passing of Obsidian Avalon are Aislin and Threnody. The naga is busy fighting the dragon, and the ice-fox had passed out about two seconds after her erstwhile enemy had intervened.
Yoko desperately tries to staunch the heart-wound that has seemed to spring from nowhere, bloodying his hands to the elbows and trying to help Kohaku as she tries her best with her own healing skills. For a moment or two it seems to help, and then all of the breath slips out of the young fox's body, leaving it cool and still, a strange smile lingering on the pale lips.
The Silver Thief howls his grief to the crimson sky even as Threnody squawks in undignified startlement. For her opponent has broken away, and now regards her with sane, knowing eyes that had been filled only with rage a moment before. Giving her a courtly bow, Kin'iro-Ryu limps his way over to the mourning group, gashes and bites healing themselves with every step.
Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Hiei look up at the beast in silent defiance, the fire apparition's face streaked with tears that fall to the ground as translucent indigo stones. "I am sorry, scion of the Avalons," the dragon says in a surprisingly melodic voice. "Never did I think that the trust I placed in your line could be twisted so awry by another force. I will mourn this brave child until the day that everything ends, for he was as dear to me as you are. Because this misdeed is created by me, all I can do in recompense is offer you myself. Call when you have need of me, scion of Avalon, and I will answer if I may."
Even as Yoko raises a tear-stained face to the one who had watched his line and through it the worlds, that golden, graceful muzzle is lowered to barely touch his forehead. When the dragon pulls away, a mark in gold gleams there for a brief moment, then fades out of sight. "My sigil, scion of Avalon, Yoko Kurama. Summon me through that." Then in a swirl of rock-dust, Kin'iro-Ryu is gone, presumably back down to his slumber in the depths of the Makai.
Meanwhile, Higurashi is doing his best to sneak away, the dragon statuette left forgotten by the altar. However, Threnody is not so caught up in grief, and she chooses not to let this scumbag escape so easily. "Now where would you be going, fellow serpent?" she inquires in a throaty purr, loosely coiling herself into a circle around him.
The snake demon gulps. "Oh, nowhere in particular."
"Oh," purrs Threnody, "but I beg to differ." Hiei can't help but smirk through his grief at the panicked scream that echoes across the plain, looking over in time to see a pair of scaly, silk-clad legs disappear down the gullet of a massive, wedge-shaped head. A breath later and the humanoid upper half makes a reappearance, the naga licking her fingers appreciatively. He hears through his Jagan her comment of, "Hm, he was tastier than he looked. All bloated with stolen powers. Yummy."
"Good riddance," Hiei mutters to himself, before turning to his comrades. "All right, Yusuke. Help me and Kohaku get everyone else home."
——
Obsidian makes his way through the press of souls gathered at the living-side bank of the Styx. He's looking for someone in particular…and spots him, leaning against one of the only trees on this bank. Smiling shyly, he edges over to Kou, who gives him a sad smile in return.
"So you made it, huh, kid?"
"Uh-huh."
Letting out a hard sigh, Kou the Topaz Cat rumples the renard's inky black hair before slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him to the single boat waiting. "You know, kid, I kinda wish you hadn't done it."
The smile never slips. "Yeah, I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
——
Four months pass, and the affects of Obsidian's absence make themselves known clearer every day. Ivory, once more in her form of Zephyr, ends up giving 'Haru's' fanclub several doses of fuda magic before the harpies leave her alone, once the news of his death—disguised as a mugging gone very wrong—is spread. Very wise, since one more attack would have brought an appearance of Ivory and bloodshed.
Not even her best friend Eri can really cheer her up, though gods only knows the blond girl tries. She even convinces several of the school's hottest—and nicest—boys to ask the silver-haired girl out, but each one is turned down. She's not in any kind of mood to take care of a fragile, human teen male ego, and none of them compare to that sweet fox she'd met at Aislin's wedding, anyway.
To get everyone to leave her alone, she finally reveals that Haru was her long lost brother and that he'd come here looking for her. She doesn't give any other details than that, preferring to let others fill in the story however they want. The pitying looks are preferable to the gossips demanding to know if she'd slept with him or something.
Yoko, once again in his role of Shuichi, grieves publicly only as hard as a good friend and tutor should. But in the privacy of his home, his mother and step-family know that it is kinder to give him space and allow him to sit in his room, staring out the window, for hours on end.
Hiei, no longer being needed to catch Obsidian, goes back to his usual 'off-duty' pastimes: meditating in the Dark Forest, or training with a depressed Kohaku. Besides the one time of mourning while on the battle-field, the fire apparition lets no one know that the loss of the innocent cub has marked him deeply. That simply is not his way.
Suzume spends most of her time, when she doesn't manage to work up enough willpower to train with Genkai, with her family's cousins the Blade-arms now that her clan's enemy—who turned out to be Higurashi—is dead and no longer paying for assassins. Whenever Kohaku sees the pretty wolf, the amber eyes are red from crying, and she refuses to even speak of her first love. Genkai tells the glitter-Gothic wolf that time will change that, but it still hurts Kohaku to think about it.
Yusuke and Kuwabara mourn for a little while, because they liked Obsidian no matter what guise he was in, but they aren't affected so much and get their lives back to some semblance of normalcy rather quickly.
Aislin's been missing for the last three months. Even with Yukina working on her almost every day, it had still taken the ice-fox a month to recuperate from the abuse of her body and the depletion of her youki. But as soon as she'd been able to defend herself to her standards, she had disappeared without a word to anyone. Kurama, while worried, knows that few would dare to cross his beloved in her current state. Besides, she's either gone to the Lighthouse or the Lair, and if she hasn't, if he needs to locate her then he simply will go talk to Rei.
But the ice-fox has a different plan than to just sit around and weep.
——
"Aislin, I cannot allow it. I simply can't."
The ice apparition stands before Koenma's desk, her hands laced behind her and her face grim, lower belly just beginning to swell. She had just made a petition to the Reikai Prince, and he has declined it. It is with the use of sheer willpower that she keeps from fulfilling her oft-voiced promise to bring the complex castle down around the pro-tem ruler's ears.
In a perfectly reasonable, calm voice she tries once again to persuade him. "Koenma, despite the fact that we stood at opposite ends of justice—even now—I have considered you as something other than a potential ally. I have considered you a friend, and as a friend I beg of you: please."
"I can't. Beyond the fact that it would break every single rule ever created in dealing with souls, he's currently in Redemption; I don't have the authority to bring him out again until he's completed his sentence."
Exasperation, for a moment, lifts away the grief. "Koenma, he served almost a hundred years for deeds that only bring ten at most! He's served his sentence ten times over already!"
"Aislin…"
"No! You're being pigheaded and unfair to the boy! He's served his damn sentence, he fulfilled the blood-oath he made to Kou, and he killed himself to save lives!"
"You aided and abetted a known criminal, Moors," Koenma snaps back. "One who came very close to destroying the Three Worlds. If it weren't for Threnody, we'd all be screwed. Give me one good reason that doesn't involve violence as to why I should grant your request."
Aislin takes a deep breath, resting her hands on the desk's surface without even fogging the polish. "I have less than a month for you to slate him for my child. It will take almost that long for you to slog through the paperwork. But in all the time I have known you, have I ever even once asked you for anything?"
Koenma considers, and reluctantly replies, "No. No, you haven't."
"That's right. Not even when you might have let me see Yoko, when I was serving my time in the Cottage. In the centuries I have known you, I have asked for nothing. Which should give you some fraction of an idea how much I want this. I didn't ask to see Yoko because I didn't want him to know that I'd given up, because if he'd somehow been reincarnated already, I didn't want to see that smile on a face that didn't know who he was. Because I wanted him to be happy." She backs up several feet, the tears sliding down her face to fall as cloudy blue gems, then drops to her knees. "Please, Koenma. For his sake, I beg you."
The teen-bodied prince surges to his feet when his supplicant bends forward, forehead resting on hands flat on the floor. "Aislin, don't!"
"Please, Prince Koenma. Please."
Bowing his own head in defeat, Koenma says a muffled, "All right. You win. I'll grant your request, but only for a price."
Aislin rises only so far as her knees, hope warring with her natural cynicism in those turquoise eyes. "Name your price, Koenma. Anything. I'll pay it."
A tired smile through the prince's hair, left too long without a haircut. It draws an echoing trace of a smile from his petitioner. "I never want to see you submitting to anyone ever again; not to me, not to anyone. In all the worlds, I can count on one hand the people who see me as someone besides a ruling power. You're one of them, and I want you to keeping on deflating my ego when Yusuke's not around to do it." He stretches out his hand to the woman kneeling on his floor. "Deal?"
The smile becomes brilliant, reflecting off unshed tears as she rises to her feet to clasp that proffered hand. "Deal."