A/N: After a couple months of writers block, I'm finally back in the game! I was getting rather sick of Lord of the Rings fanfiction, so I decided to do something different. The end result? An Inuyasha fanfic. I've done my best to ensure that my character is as un-sueish as possible, although for the sake of the plot, she had to have some interesting talents. This story is rated M to be safe. It's mostly because of foul language, but there will likely be quite a bit of gore in later chapters, as well as some mature subject matter, but I've yet to decide that. Just to give any horney pervs fair warning, if there IS mature subject matter...okay, I'll say it...citrus...it won't be descriptive. So, anyway, enjoy.

"This is mind to mind speak"

((This is translation))

Prologue:

Floating. That wonderful sensation one feels when drifting between the worlds of slumber and consciousness. That was the way she knew that she was close to her destination. She reveled in the warm, comforting feeling, and the urge to continue drifting into the world of sleep was strong, but she had business to take care of. She focused her mind, focused on her true destination in the astral realm. She shed the weight on her chest, the weight that kept her spirit and body intact. The ritual drumming faded in the background as she sent out the mental command that would release her spirit from the confines of her physical form. I…am…elsewhere…

Now her spirit stood on the edge of the astral realm. She stared through the misty veil to the physical world, where her body sat, an assistant was drumming a slow rhythmic beat nearby, and candles burnt at the four points surrounding her. She could see a silver thread extended from her collarbone in the physical world, which attached to the equivalent in her spirit form, a huge black hound. This was her lifeline, the silver cord that allowed mortals to travel through the astral realm before death, the cord that would stretch forever, and never break, so long as the will to live remained. She mentally snorted, noticing how much the thread looked like a leash. Feeling the being she sought calling to her, she began to walk deeper into the realm. Any malignant beings she passed shied away, as well as many of the benign. The only beings who never ran were the creatures who were completely neutral. They did not aid, nor did they cause chaos. They were often spirits who sought to complete a task so that they might return home, what some cultures would call heaven, to heal and then reincarnate once again.

"Come to me, my shaman." The voice. Musical, yet harsh, kind, yet cruel, loving, yet vengeful. The voice of the one she sought. The voice of the Goddess Hecate. A light, the light of a torch. She ran to it, the voice growing stronger. Finally, she had found it. This time, the Goddess had taken the form of a cloaked woman. In one hand, she held a torch, to guide the travelers of night, and in the other, she held two chain leashes, which held her two loyal black hounds.

"Mother." She dipped into a low bow.

"Rise, my loyal soldier." She rose, and was embraced by the being. "Is the deed done?"

"Yes. The spirit of the Vodun Priestess has been exorcised."

"Excellent. You have done well, loyal shaman. Though you may grow weary, there are new matters to attend to. You must go to Tokyo," said the being.

"As always, I am at your disposal, Mother Hecate…what is it that I will find on arrival?"

"This task is not as simple as exorcising a vengeful spirit, my loyal shaman…this may take months, possibly years…and you may leave the experience greatly altered. Does this daunt you?"

"No, Mother…I shall do what is needed to keep balance in the worlds. Such was my oath years ago, and such is my duty now."

"Good. There is a dimensional rift, located somewhere in Tokyo. You must find this young woman," said the Goddess, projecting an image of a teenage girl into the shaman's mind. "She is the key to finding the rift. Find what causes the disturbance, and help to destroy it…do I sense irritation, my shaman?"

"Forgive my bluntness, but how in the seven circles of hell am I supposed to find one anonymous individual in a city with a population of 8,083,980?" asked the shaman, huffing in annoyance. The Goddess chuckled and replied, "You will know her when you see her."

"Of course." She fought the urge to roll her eyes, and added, "Is there anything else of importance which I should know of? I imagine the drummer grows tired."

"No, I believe I have told all that is required," replied the being.

"Then I shall take my leave." She bowed, and began to walk back to the boarder.

"Wait," said the Goddess.

"Yes, Goddess Hecate?"

"Have you ever been in love, my shaman?"

"Uh...I'm not sure I know what you mean..." said the Shaman, looking puzzled.

"It is a simple enough question. Have you ever loved someone?"

"Do you really need to ask? No, I haven't. I have spent the greatest part of my life dedicated to you, my Goddess. My life's work has not leftme the timefor romance."

"Do you ever regret your choice?" The shaman paused for a moment, considering how she should answer. She sighed inwardly, knowing that there was no point in lying, Hecate knew her better than she knew herself. After all, she had spent 25 years learning the way of the shaman, for she never stopped learning, gaining knowledge and power. She looked back at the Goddess.

"Yes…at times. But the life of a true shaman does not leave room for romantic encounters. I made my choice years ago, and I have lived a full life. I have no reason to regret, Mother."

"You speak as if your life is over, my shaman. This mission may prove to be a learning experience for you. Farewell, daughter, be safe." With that, Hecate, along with her hounds, disappeared into the mist. The shaman sat, looking utterly puzzled for a moment before feeling insistent tugging on her silver thread. Someone was shaking her frantically back in the physical realm. She snarled in annoyance and was roughly pulled back to her body, snapping awake.

"I tell you no touch body," she said in thickly accented Haitian Creole, fatigue setting in as she slowly rose to her feet. She hated it when someone disturbed her body while she was in trance, it made her spirit rush back to her body far to quickly, leaving her feeling sick and drained.

"I'm sorry, Madam Shaman, but you weren't moving at all, and I couldn't tell if you were breathing or not…" said the old man who had been assisting her.

"Well, that mistake you not make again, yes?" she asked, glaring at him. He shuddered, and replied, "Yes Madam Shaman. We have gathered a reward as a way to thank you for your services." The man handed her a small sack made from hog-skin, filled with what was obviously old, precious jewelry, and what looked like the months pay from every Haitian in the village. She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, thinking of the hell these people would go through if she accepted this gift, and immediately handed the sack back to the old man.

"No. I no take. More angry spirit come if family give away jewel. And I no need gift…I did duty." With that, she roughly ushered him out of the hut so that she could change out of her ritual robe, not giving the old man a chance to object. She had come to Fond Verrettes, a small town in Haiti to exorcise the angry spirit of a powerful Vodun priestess. She was strong in life, and so her spirit was strong in death. The spirit had scared many livestock literally to death, and had summoned vermin to spoil the stored grain.

However she was able to exorcise the spirit, sending it to the underworld, never to return. With her duty done, she needed to return to her home in London to prepare for her next mission in Tokyo. After she had changed into a non-descript sleeveless top and khaki shorts and left the hut, two little girls ran up to her smiling brightly. Oooh no…she thought, a smile quickly forming on her usually stoic face. She adored children.

"Did you scare away the mean ghost, Madam Shaman?" asked the taller of the two. She knelt down and toyed with one of the smaller girl's braids, saying with a smile, "Yes, I scare her off good. She no hurt you no more." The little girls squealed their delight and hugged her tightly.

"I need to go now, but…" she dug in one of her bags and produced two bracelets made from her trance beads. She suspected that either the girls or their parents would end up selling them for food, but that suited her just fine. At least they would have food in their stomachs, and if they kept them, the spirits she worked with would likely keep the girls safe. "I give these to you, they keep you safe." The girls eyes widened and they gazed at her in disbelief, before those looks were replaced with ear-to-ear smiles only little children are capable of. She smiled warmly, embracing the girls one last time before saying, "I need to go…you know how I get to Port-au-Prince?"

The girls picked up her bags and pulled her to the outskirts of the village where a man in a small cart, pulled by two decidedly emaciated-looking mules, was slowly rolling away.

"Tann! Estope!" she cried, grabbing her bags and running up to the cart.((Wait! Stop!)) The man tugged hard on the reins and the mules brayed in disgust, backing up several feet.

"What?" asked the man irritably, suddenly realizing who she was. "I'm sorry Madam Shaman! I didn't realize!"

"No worry. I need to go to Port-au-Prince, how far can you take? I pay for your help," she added. The man thought for a moment, then replied, "I can take you as far as Arcahie. I would take you all the way, but I don't think my mules could make it."

"Arcahie?" she paused for a moment, figuring out how much farther she had to go. "That good, I can walk from there if I no find better way." With that, she climbed into the cart, waving to the children as the man clucked at the mules to start walking.

"Ou remèsye!" she called. ((Thank you!)) They waved until she lost sight of them around a bend. She was sorry to leave the village, she loved Haiti. The people were friendly, and always willing to share the little they had. She would have liked to stay for a time to learn as much as she could about the culture, and preferably improve her horribly accented Creole. But she couldn't neglect her duties, and by the looks of things, this new mission was going to be difficult to complete. She had no idea then just how difficult it would prove to be.

A/N: There you go, a short prologue to get you interested. Don't worry, the next chapter will be longer. Don't forget to read and review and tell me what you think.