"I hoped I would find you here, my boy."
Miroku, who had been meditating underneath the sacred Goshinboku tree situated behind the shrine of Buddha, opened his eyes to see his old master, Mushin walking slowly up the slight rise towards where he was seated.
'He looks much better now' mused Miroku even as he smiled in gentle affection at the old monk.
"It is so very peaceful here" he said, "This is what I miss the most in the city".
"Yes well…" sighed Mushin as he carefully lowered himself between the protruding roots of the ancient tree beside his erstwhile pupil. "Have you given thought to what I said yesterday?"
"Yes" answered Miroku "But you are not going to like it".
Mushin's face clouded over, and he suddenly looked frail again, "So you will not stay back?"
Miroku reached out and laid a hand over the old monk's withered fingers which had grabbed a hold of his faded purple robes as if for strength, the veins standing out in relief.
"I can stay back here and help you protect the monastery" said Miroku "But that will not solve the real problem which is this sudden increase in demon attacks in the countryside. I assure you the queen is unaware of this development. In fact, none of the Council is aware which is not really surprising since we tend to depend on Lady Kagura to predict attacks".
"The demon?" asked Mushin doubtfully "Are you sure she is a witch and not merely making fools of you all?"
"Come, Mushin" said Miroku with a slight bite in his tone before he consciously gentled his voice. "You of all people should be above this prejudice against demons. Aren't you the one who taught me to judge people for their actions and not what they are or where they come from?"
"You misunderstand, my boy" said Mushin "I am not so old and decrepit that I am unable to detect evil and darkness in others, human or demon. It is just that witchcraft is usually associated with human females and not demons. Their kind has no need for such tawdry tricks – they have innate abilities that are far more powerful".
"So, what are you saying?"
"I am only wondering if she is faking her abilities as a witch".
"But that is impossible" declared Miroku "Lady Kagura has accurately predicted several attacks on the queen which the Council was then able to prevent".
"Hmm…yes, there is that" mused Mushin, stroking his moustache "I do not know, my boy. There is something missing about your demon friend. Nothing dark or evil, as far as I can tell, but something not quite there. I'm not sure how else to describe this feeling".
"Well, now that's all cleared up" said Miroku, dripping sarcasm.
Mushin chuckled and said, "Lady Kagura will be given every welcome at Bodhidera, have no fear."
"It's not just that, Mushin" said Miroku "All these demon attacks have me greatly worried. Kagura has been unable to See for about two weeks now. However, the attacks have been slowly escalating since the death of the previous king, you said. How can she have missed all that?"
"She has been unable to See for two weeks as far as any of you are aware" returned the old monk. "For all you know, it might always have been thus, some dark forces purposefully blocking her vision, allowing her a few glimpses and lulling you all into a false sense of safety".
Miroku stared at his old master as he turned this idea over in his mind. He could see the terrible possibilities if he was right. There would be no more question regarding the timing of Xahar's prophecy now. He had always thought of the demon attack in which Hisui and the other monks lost their lives as an aberration. However, last evening, as he and Mushin talked long into the night, he had been given a very different picture of the situation. Demon attacks were very frequent these days, and traders often brought horrifying tales of entire villages having been decimated by demons. How they escaped detection by the army was another mystery.
Most of the attacks were by demons of the lower order, but the monastery had endured attacks from more powerful demons in recent months and with their numbers severely reduced, the monks were hard-pressed to resist such powerful attacks. In fact, one of the three monks had succumbed to death due to old age the previous winter. The young monk Hojo had joined the monastery in early spring to begin his training and it was he who took care of the daily functioning of Bodhidera. However, having just begun his training, he was more liability than help when countering demon attacks. The other monk, Miyatsu, was very old and was more of a lore master than a fighter. All this meant that there was only Mushin when it came to fighting demons. And despite his skill, the constant fights were taking their toll and Mushin was desperately in need of help. It was this that had prompted him to ask Miroku to stay back at the monastery. Having trained under him, Miroku was an equally formidable fighter against unruly demons. Mushin was of the hope that with his pupil's help, he could restore Bodhidera to its previous glory.
"I should have come home sooner" said Miroku bitterly "I would have known of the attacks earlier and been able to warn the queen and the Council. We might have stopped the rise of this new Darkness".
"Who knows, Miroku" replied Mushin "Perhaps. Perhaps not. We cannot do much about the past. We can only go forward. Besides, one must hope all this does not portend the coming of a second Darkness."
"You forget the prophecy, Mushin" said Miroku tiredly. "I wish I had found it sooner".
He had explained all about the prophecy and the strange way he had come across it to Mushin last evening.
Mushin looked up at the towering branches of the Goshinboku and took a deep breath.
"Everything will happen in its own time, Miroku. You must do what you think is right and stick to your chosen path. Wondering about what-ifs will only serve to weaken you" he said after some time.
"I must warn the queen, Mushin" said Miroku, quietly. "It's obviously not just Bodhidera, but the entire kingdom seems to be under attack".
"You are right on that count" sighed Mushin. "Come, let us go break our fast and plan what to do."
Xxxx xxxx xxxx
"What have you decided, Lord Miroku?" asked Kagura as soon as he walked into the long room where the monks took their meals, along with Mushin.
She had been biting her nails (metaphorically so to speak) ever since she woke up. The conversation with the old monk last night had greatly worried her, on so many levels. On the one hand, she had wanted to immediately get back to Fountain City and warn Rin of the looming crisis with the power-hungry demons. Was the second Darkness, as warned by the prophecy already come to pass? And more worryingly, what did this mean for her abilities as a Seer? She had certainly not foreseen anything of this nature. Even the prophecy had not been revealed to her, the only Seer (as far as anyone knew) in the entire city. Did this mean that her abilities were a fluke, an aberration, as Lady Kikyo had put it – there for a while, and afterwards, gone forever? Did this mean that she would never be able to protect the queen?
All these questions and more had churned her mind last night as Kagura lay tossing and turning on her spartan futon the young trainee monk, Hojo had provided. When sleep had finally come, it had been filled with disturbing dreams and a maniacal laughter that sent shivers down her spine even in remembrance. When the old monk had requested Miroku to stay back to defend the monastery, she knew she would have to return to the city alone, no closer to a solution to her problem than when she had left. However, go she must because the queen must be warned.
"I will be leaving for the Fountain City as soon as I have broken my fast" said Miroku as he sat down at the low table facing Kagura. Mushin sat beside him as Hojo came out of the kitchen bearing a tray filled with steaming dishes.
"What?" asked Kagura, surprised. "I thought you would be staying back here". She looked questioningly at Mushin. "Surely, they need your help".
Miroku helped himself to a steaming bowl of miso soup as Mushin tried to find strength in a cup of herbal tea.
"Yes, Bodhidera needs help" said Miroku in between bites of onigiri. "But not necessarily mine".
Mushin turned to him with a frown as Kagura scowled at him. Hojo stayed a respectful distance back, but it was obvious he was also listening to the conversation. Having been inundated with Miroku's spiritual abilities ever since he joined the monastery the previous year and having lived through weekly demon attacks, he too believed Miroku was needed at Bodhidera.
"What do you mean?" asked Kagura
"Well," began Miroku as he put down his bowl and looked seriously at her, "The queen needs to be apprised of the situation. Lord Sesshomaru will need to lead the army into the countryside and forests where these demons are hiding, try to find their leader and eliminate the threat to the kingdom."
"Well, yes" agreed Kagura "But what makes you think they have a leader? Can it not be a bunch of power-hungry demons randomly attacking?"
"Yes, that too is a possibility" he replied "But I think, chances are, there will be a strong leader at the head, directing everything. The attacks appear to be random, but they have been steadily increasing over the past three years and have so far managed to escape the attention of the likes of Sesshomaru and Lady Kikyo. That kind of organizing requires a powerful leader."
Both Kagura and Mushin looked grim as they digested this.
"And there is also the fact that someone or something is blocking your abilities" continued Miroku. "It is the reason we set out for Bodhidera in the first place."
"Yes but…" began Kagura but Miroku held up a hand, interrupting her.
"My suggestion, Lady Kagura, is that you stay back here and work with the monks at getting your abilities back" he said. "You haven't spoken to Miyatsu yet, have you? He is much learned in lore and might be able to help you. Meanwhile, you will also be able to lend a hand in protecting the monastery against demon attacks."
"Oh!" said Kagura "But Rin…"
"The queen will understand, my lady" replied Miroku gently. "Besides, think about it this way. You will be of more use to the queen with your Seer abilities than without".
"Oh" said Kagura again as she lapsed into meditative silence.
Miroku turned to Mushin beside him, "Lady Kagura, besides being a Seer, is also a powerful wind demon. She will be able to help you much better than I can. Together with your spiritual abilities, I think you will be able to easily repel these attacks".
Mushi looked at his old pupil steadily as he stroked his moustache. There was a gleam in his eyes as he contemplated the demon sitting opposite him.
"I have already offered sanctuary to Lady Kagura" he said. "Our knowledge and wisdom, such as they are, will always be open to her. If she can see to assisting us in protecting the monastery, I would consider it a boon".
Kagura looked up at the old human monk and knew in her head that it was the sensible course of action. However, her heart still yearned to be back at the palace where she could watch over Rin like a mother hen. Into her mind flashed a picture of Lord Sesshomaru sitting in Rin's office as she worked. Kagura looked up blinking and saw both Miroku and Mushin watching her quietly.
"I think…" she began a bit hesitantly. "I think you are correct. Someone is blocking my vision. I had a sudden flash of Rin and Lord Sesshomaru just now. Perhaps, the monks can help me fix this" she turned hopeful eyes to Mushin.
"We shall do our best, Lady Kagura," said Mushin.
"And I shall do my best to help protect the monastery" vowed Kagura.
Xxxx xxxx xxxx
"Are you certain you wouldn't like to borrow my feather?" asked Kagura, looking doubtfully at the decrepit-looking horse that was being saddled for Miroku who was now rummaging in his satchel while Mushin and Hoko looked on with interest.
"What?" said Miroku, distractedly. "Yes. I mean, no Lady Kagura. One trip was enough for a lifetime" He looked up with a wry smile at the worried wind demon. "Have no fear. I have made this journey before, and I assure you I will reach the city safe and sound".
"If you say so" said Kagura who had to quickly step back from the horse which had swung its head to stare at her in interest, as though contemplating snatching the waving feather in her hair as a tasty snack.
Miroku chuckled and turned to Mushin.
"Don't worry. Everything will work out fine, and I will return as soon as I may" he said, embracing the old man.
"There now, you've made me maudlin" sniffed Mushin. "Here, I have something for you." He thrust a long rod with brass rings attached to the top at him.
"A shakujo?" asked Miroku in wonder as he took it in his right hand. "But I already have one. It's back at the palace".
"I know" replied Mushin with a smile. "And very good you are with it, too. This one belonged to Hisui". He nodded at the staff resting in Miroku's hand.
"What?" gasped Miroku.
"He would have wanted you to have it," said Mushin.
Miroku seemed lost for words as he stared at the staff in his hands. Kagura too looked at this strange weapon with interest. Knowing how he viewed the old head monk, she knew that this gift would be a true treasure for Miroku.
"I…I don't know what to say, Mushin" said Miroku, finally. "Are you sure I can have this?"
"Yes, my boy" smiled Mushin. "If anyone deserves Hisui's choice shakujo, it is you. You know he loved you like a son".
"I know" murmured Miroku. He bowed to Mushin and said, "Thank you for entrusting me with this."
"May it protect you against all evil" blessed the old monk.
Miroku climbed on the horse and arranged the shakujo across his knees. He was well-rugged up for the long journey in a warm cloak worn over his monk's robes. His satchel was attached to the saddle bags.
"Here, give this to Miyatsu" he said as he thrust a piece of parchment at Mushin. "It is a copy of the prophecy I found. Maybe he can interpret it properly".
Mushin nodded and pocketed the parchment. "He will be miffed that he missed you".
"I don't want to interrupt his meditation" said Miroku. "Besides, I will see you all very soon".
"Let us hope so," said Mushin. "Ride safe now. Remember, don't travel at night. The demons usually come out after dark." He raised a hand in farewell as Miroku turned the horse around, waved to Kagura and nodded at Hojo, and cantered out of Bodhidera at a good clip.
"Come, Lady Kagura" said Mushin "Let us go to the meditation hall and try find your wayward witchcraft abilities".
Kagura turned and followed the old monk inside the monastery, followed by Hojo, hoping against hope that she would get her abilities back soon.
Xxxx xxxx xxxx
Miroku was being watched.
He turned to look behind him for the nth time in the past hour. The feeling of being followed and watched had been growing gradually in his mind as he rode further away from Bodhidera. He had made good time riding out of the valley where the monastery was situated. The horse, although old, was sturdy and used to the mountainous terrain. He had planned to stop tonight at a small but prosperous village that lay along the outer slopes of the Akaishi mountains. He had stayed at the inn before and was known to the innkeeper. He expected to reach the relative safety of the village by dusk and had been pushing his horse as the afternoon waned. It was now tiring, and his unease was growing. He was travelling through a desolate countryside with dark woods on either side of the road. Towering mountains rose behind him menacingly as he raced to the end of the valley where the village lay. The sun had almost set, bringing on an early darkness.
Miroku gripped the wooden rod of his shakujo fiercely and wished, for the umpteenth time that he had not refused Kagura's offer to borrow her magic feather. It might have left him queasy but would have been a safer (and faster) option. An icy wind seemed to rise out of nowhere and an unnatural darkness began to creep up the valley.
"Damn!" muttered Miroku as he brought the horse to a halt and contemplated returning to the monastery. He had a feeling that the approaching darkness boded ill. Even the horse was agitated and the woods around him was eerily silent. Not even insects were making any noise. Miroku once again turned back to look at the road behind him. There seemed to be a gathering gloom behind him as well. He was too far from help and the horse was too tired to make a hasty return trip to the monastery, covering the distance it had taken nearly a day to traverse.
Grimly, Miroku tightened the reins and held it with one hand, taking a firm grip on the shakujo with his right. He turned the horse and rode into the woods on his right. Normally, he might have turned the animal lose and continued on foot into the forest. There was every chance that it would trip over a protruding root or branch, causing them both to fall. However, he had no wish to expose the poor beast to whatever evil that approached in the gloom. Once underneath the trees, Miroku was plunged into complete darkness, the branches overhead blotting out what little light there remained. He loosened the reigns and cautiously increased the horse's pace. He continued in the direction he had been travelling, more or less parallel to the road. He figured that he had a better chance of reaching the village where he had intended to halt than Bodhidera. There was an ominous rustling of leaves although there was no wind. His horse was beginning to tremble slightly, and goosebumps were rising on his skin even underneath his cloak and robe.
Suddenly, without any warning, the horse neighed in fear and plunged pell-mell through the trees. Miroku was jolted badly from his seat and nearly fell off. He lost his grip on the reigns and it was all he could do to hang on the horse's back, gripping its mane. The animal was completely frightened and seemed to be running blindly in an effort to get away from whatever had spooked it. At this pace, Miroku had no more idea of where they were going or what was pursuing them, frightening the horse. He tried to close his eyes and empty his mind in preparation to cast spells and gripped the shakujo firmly in his right hand. Because of this, he could not immediately balance himself when the horse, inevitably, tripped on something. A branch smacked into his chest and threw him from the horse which fled into the dark depths of the forest.
Miroku lay on the ground among the dead leaves and fallen branches and tried to get his breath back. Thankfully, he had not lost his grip on the shakujo. However, all his sacred ofudas were stuffed inside his satchel which was still hanging on the saddle of his erstwhile companion. He got to his feet and tripped and stumbled his way towards a tree, blindly feeling his way in the oppressive dark. His hand encountered the rough bark of an old tree, and he leaned his back against it, in a feeble attempt to cover his back. Miroku widened his stance and raised the shakujo in a horizontal position using both his hands, a classic defense stance. He closed his eyes the better to use his other senses to detect approaching danger.
As the crashing sound of the fleeing horse faded away, the forest once again descended into eerie silence. Miroku got the feeling that he was being watched again. He opened his eyes as wide as possible, trying to penetrate the surrounding darkness. A sudden flash of something had him turning his head to his left but the darkness was unrelenting. However, Miroku knew that he was no longer along. Something was near him and approaching closer. Suddenly, he heard maniacal laughter, causing his skin to crawl. He whipped his head forward and felt the air whistle in front of his face. He instinctively ducked and stumbled back from the tree and heard the bark above his head explode in a shower of wood shavings. An iciness seemed to creep towards him where he huddled on the ground. As the icy fingers found their way beneath his cloak, Miroku abandoned all pretense of defending himself and rose and stumbled away, gripped by primitive fear. He ran blindly, having no idea where he was or where he was going. His breath came in short gasps and his mind shut down in fear; the maniacal laughter once again rang around the forest. Suddenly he saw a tall and menacing figure cloaked in white baboon pelt standing in front of him, appearing suddenly in the dark. The laughter seemed to be issuing from the mask-like face. The figure raised skeletal arms and dark energy shot towards Miroku who instinctively raised his right hand which still held the shakujo. The energy hit the staff with the force of a wrecking ball, splintering the ancient wood. Miroku felt a searing pain in his right hand, so intense that he fell to his knees in agony and an ice-cold energy seemed to gather in the centre of his palm. His last sight was that of the figure wearing the baboon pelt, fading in and out of his vision as he fell to the forest floor and knew no more.
Xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx
Miroku wandered in the darkness for a long time. He had no knowledge of where he was or even, who he was. He simply existed in the never-ending darkness. He had no memory and no way to mark the passage of time. When he finally opened his eyes to the living world, his mind continued to remain in that disorienting darkness. Gradually, sense began to return bringing with it the sound of birdsong and wind. He seemed to be lying on his back and felt the heat of a large fire somewhere behind his head and a fresh breeze towards his feet. After some time, he could finally make out the cave in which he lay on a simple pallet made of long grass woven together. He was covered in his own cloak and his right hand seemed to be bound tightly with some cloth. Although he could feel the texture of the rough wool, his palm felt as if it a cold block of ice was pressing at its centre. The sensation, while uncomfortable, was not painful and Miroku soon pushed it from his mind, more interested in trying to figure out where he was and how he had got there. He had a vague recollection of fleeing through a dark forest and an echo of maniacal laughter rang in his head. However, trying to remember more merely brought on an intense headache, and Miroku realized that even that simple task was tiring his body. His eyes began to close and despite his best efforts, he once again descended into empty darkness.
The next time he came to his senses, Miroku was a little more alert to his surroundings. The fire near his head still burned as hot as ever, but there was a chill in the air and a pre-dawn darkness. He heard a sonorous snoring towards his left and tried to turn his head to see who occupied the cave beside him. However, this proved a futile exercise, and he soon gave up and tried instead to recall the events which led to him being in this position. For several minutes, his mind remained blank. Then, there came a picture into his mind's eye of a small but comfortable room filled with books and parchments on shelves that ran up to the ceiling. There was a cheerful fire burning in the grate and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. This image was so soothing that Miroku did not even realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up to fresh morning sunlight.
"Are you properly awake now?" a gravelly voice rapped out the question from behind him, from the depths of the cave.
Miroku desperately wanted to answer but found that he could not even open his mouth. As he tried to wrestle his disobedient muscles into action, an old and gnarled face popped into his view. The man wore a simple yukata open at the neck and had a pair of bright bulging eyes despite his obvious age. He had no hair to speak of except for a short tuft at the top of his head which he had pulled into a sort of ponytail. His pointed chin was adorned by a small goatee beard while his lips were framed on either side by a pair of long moustaches that reached below his chin, leaving his upper lip mostly bare. Miroku looked up at this bizarre face and momentarily forgot his struggle to speak, although that did not seem to deter the old man. He squatted beside him, leaning on a long rod topped with a heavy hammerhead and carefully observed his patient.
"Hmmm…color is much improved, I see" he mused. "Hmmm…well, you have a good constitution. Eyes are bright and alert…hmm…strong, for a human"
Miroku once again tried to say something, but his body began to get weaker. For the first time in his life, he knew anger – a helpless rage against the limitations of his body.
"There now, don't scowl so fiercely, boy!" exclaimed the old man seeing Miroku's struggle. "Don't exert yourself trying to speak. Here, let me give you some water".
He thrust a hand behind and brought forth a tattered wineskin bag which he lifted to Miroku's lips after propping up his head with one hand. A few drops of water trickled into Miroku's parched mouth and he wished the man would give him a proper mouthful at least.
"There now, not so hasty," said the old man. "You have not eaten or drunk anything for nearly four days now." However, he did increase the flow of water and Miroku managed to drink a couple of gulps before he began to tire. The old man seemed to have been watching for this because he immediately whisked the water bag away and lowered Miroku's head back onto the pallet.
"There now, that's enough to be going on with," said the old man. "After the ordeal you went through, even this much activity is probably not good".
"What…where…" croaked Miroku, finally able to move his lips.
"Well, you are in my cave, obviously" said the old man with a scowl. "A right headache you have been, too," he muttered.
"What…happened?" whispered Miroku.
"Well, I don't know, do I?" said the old man as he produced a thin sharp stick from the folds of his yukata and proceeded to pick his very-pointed teeth. "The bleedin' miasma was everywhere! That baboon should be put down". He eyed the prostrate Miroku, as though assessing his potential and remarked, "Got you good, did he?"
But Miroku was not listening. At the word 'baboon', his memory had returned with a vengeance, in a torrent of images leaving him disoriented and horror-struck. How long had he been lying here? Who was this strange old man? What was happening at the monastery and the Fountain City? He struggled to sit up, trying to push the cloak covering him away with his left hand. However, pain shot through his right palm and Miroku collapsed back on the pallet, pale and shivering.
"There now!" exclaimed the old man. "Have some sense, you idiot! Don't destroy my handiwork!"
He grabbed hold of Miroku and helped him lie properly on the pallet, and anxiously examined the bandage on his right hand. For the first time, Miroku looked at his hand which seemed to be throbbing, but the pain was gradually subsiding to a more bearable sensation. His hand was bound tightly with a piece of his own purple robe over which a string of opal-colored string was bound. The string was in the form of a rosary often carried by monks although he himself had never owned anything like it. There seemed to be a dark aura surrounding his hand which had him worried. He turned to look at the old man and once again asked, "What happened?"
"You young people are so impatient!" grumbled the old man as he continued to poke slightly at the bandage and the string of beads. "Have to know everything but will not wait to know anything before jumping feet-first into trouble!"
"Do you know…what was that…baboon thing?" asked Miroku laboriously.
"Well, it's no baboon, that's for sure" replied the old man. "If I knew what it was, I would feel better! Wily demon!"
"I…have never…heard of such a…demon" whispered Miroku.
"Well, of course not!" scowled the old man. "There has never been such a demon before! I should know. Been here for a thousand years, I have!"
"What!" gasped Miroku, unconsciously trying to rise again.
"Will you lie down!" exclaimed the old man as he rose and crab-walked to the back of the cave where he started banging several pots and vessels, judging by the racket. "You need to eat."
Miroku sighed and lay back down on the pallet. It seemed the irascible old man would only tell him what happened in his own time. Meanwhile, the smell of frying meat reached his nostrils and caused his stomach to rumble. 'If I have been lying like this for four days, I must be famished' mused Miroku and tried to listen to the sounds around him. The morning sun was streaming into the cave which seemed to be located on the side of a tall mountain. If he raised his head a fraction, he could see glimpses of rolling grass and the tops of trees in front of the cave. However, the old man began to grumble as soon as he twitched, so Miroku did not attempt to move much. Besides, his hand was beginning to pain him again.
"Here, lean on me" said the old man as he squatted beside Miroku and raised him up and propped him against the wall of the cave. Miroku's head was swimming and his hand seemed to be on fire by the time he was sitting up after a fashion. The old man skewered some meat on a sharp stick and held it up to his mouth and began to feed him patiently. Miroku felt humiliated and angered at his weakness but his need for nourishment overrode his pride, and he managed to eat quite a bit of the meat thrust at him, and even managed another couple of mouthfuls of water. After feeding him, the old man again helped Miroku lie back down on the pallet.
"Now, you must rest" he admonished.
"Tell me what happened" said Miroku.
"Youth!" sighed the old man. "Fine! I will tell you. Here I was, minding my own business when I sensed a dark miasma coming this way. The simple-minded demons had been making a nuisance for years now, but there has been a new rumor about a fearsome demon wearing a baboon pelt who was now controlling them. I wondered if he was the source of this miasma. I followed it deep into the forest, and when I neared the human village on the other side of the forest, I sensed a great and terrible power coming from the midst of the miasma. Just as quickly, the miasma began to disperse, and I saw a creature wearing the skin of a white baboon disappearing further into the forest. I hurried to the place where I sensed the dark energy at work, and I found you lying unconscious, your right hand clamped over the broken halves of an ancient weapon".
"Broken?" interrupted Miroku in a sorrowful voice. "Are you sure it broke? Can it be repaired?"
"Foolish boy!" exclaimed the old man. "Be thankful it broke, releasing its store of spiritual energy. Otherwise, you would be worse than dead now".
"What do you mean?"
"The spell that accursed baboon cast at you is an ancient one" replied the old man. "But he had twisted it to suit his own purposes. The original spell would have opened a portal to another dimension. That vile creature twisted the spell so that a portal would be formed of your body itself."
"A portal on my body?" whispered Miroku as he looked at his throbbing right hand.
"Aye" nodded the old man as he leaned against the wall, his gigantic hammer in his lap. "The shakujo maybe an ancient weapon but it is quite powerful in the right hands. You managed to partially block the spell, so the portal was confined to the centre of your right hand alone. I was able to use a piece of your own holy cloth and close portal temporarily with demon crystals."
"Demon crystals?" Miroku's head was spinning at the implications of all this. "What is going to happen to my hand now?"
"Your hand? Nothing," replied the old man. "However, if you do not find a cure or counter curse, the portal will widen and soon consume you and everything else in the vicinity".
"What!" gasped Miroku. "I'm going to die?"
"No!" said the old man, sounding exasperated. "Haven't you been listening? You will not die. Oh no! Your fate will be much worse. You will be sucked into another dimension."
"What is that, exactly?"
"Who knows?" said the old man. "Its not like anyone who's been, has returned to tell of the place".
Miroku simply stared at the man in dawning horror.
"But then, what can I do?" he asked. "Is there a way to reverse it?"
"Well now," mused the old man, stroking his long moustache and goatee beard. "There are no tried-and-true ways because not many people were insane enough to use this spell. Besides, that baboon has twisted it. Simply cutting off your hand might only serve to shift the portal to some other location on your body."
"Cut off my hand! Are you saying there is no way to reverse this?" cried Miroku.
"No!" exclaimed the old man. "Will you let me finish?" He glared at Miroku who remained silent. "There might be a way…" he continued in a meditative tone. "If you managed to kill the baboon, the spells he cast should automatically reverse themselves. Do you think you could do that?"
Miroku blinked at him and said nothing. His brain seemed to be sagging under all this information and his body was exhausted. Instead of replying to the old man, Miroku asked something else, "Who are you?"
The old man chuckled and said, "Should have asked that first, boy! I am Totosai!" he declared.
"Who?" asked Miroku, bemused.
"Totosai!" cried the old man. "Has the world become so arrogant that it has forgotten me and my great works?"
"What works?" asked Miroku bewildered. Was this guy insane?
"What works!" said an apoplectic Totosai. "I am the great demon swordsmith! No one can forge a blade like I do! My swords will never break and will never betray their masters. They will endure until the ends of time!" He threw out his arms in a grand gesture, indicating the humble cave, "Behold! The great smithy that birthed Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga!"
"Tenseiga?" asked Miroku, shocked. "But that is the sword of the great Inutaisho!"
"Aha! So, you do know of me!" said Totosai, sounding pleased as he sat forward with a gleam in his protruding eyes.
"No, I have never heard of you" replied Miroku
"Eh!"
"But I know a sword named Tenseiga, if it even is the same sword" he said.
"There is only one Tenseiga!" declared Totosai.
"Well, then, I guess I know the sword. Lord Sesshomaru always carries it, although he uses another sword, claiming that the Tenseiga is useless" said Miroku.
"Tenseiga, useless!" cried Totosai, so aghast that he dropped the hammer and his eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull. "What does that pup Sesshomaru know! Useless, indeed!"
"Do you know Sesshomaru?" asked Miroku with renewed interest.
"Never met him!" said Totosai. "Knew his father. Powerful Dog. Crafted the Tetsusaiga and Tenseiga for him specifically".
"You knew Inutaisho?" asked Miroku surprised. "But he died nearly a hundred years ago!"
"Didn't I tell you I have been around for nearly a thousand?" said Totosai, rather smugly. "I even knew that upstart priestess Midoriko!"
"What!" exclaimed Miroku, truly shocked. "How is that even possible?"
"Demons have long lives. Even imbeciles know that, boy!" replied Totosai.
"What!" yelped Miroku. "You're a demon?"
"Did that spell create a hole in your hand or your head, boy?" sighed Totosai.
At that, Miroku fell silent. Once he thought about it, it had been pretty obvious. Apparently, having a portal to another dimension established on your body scrambled your senses.
"Wait, you knew Midoriko?" asked Miroku. "As in, you had heard of her, or actually met her in person?"
"I knew her quite well, boy" sighed Totosai. "Doomed Nymph! She should have stayed in the Fountain," he mumbled.
"What?" asked Miroku confused but Totosai seemed to be lost in thought.
After some time, Miroku ventured another question, "Did you also know Xahar?"
"Hmm?" said Totosai. "Xahar? Yes, indeed. Very gifted Seer. Inseparable they were".
"They, who?" asked Miroku.
"Midoriko and Xahar" replied Totosai with a reminiscing smile. "Best of friends. Of course, they were sisters first".
"Sisters?"
"Well, alright, sisters-in-law!" said Totosai, miffed. "But they always referred to themselves as sisters".
"So, Xahar was the sister of the prince who married Midoriko?" asked Miroku slowly.
"Not him" said Totosai. "The poor farmer boy".
"What farmer boy?"
"Her husband," said Totosai "The one the demons killed".
