In the Beholders Eye
Written By Sarga
May/June 2006
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of the characters, I'm just taking a theme and running with it...
Chapter 12: A Great and Powerful Magic
Miroku tossed and turned on his rough sleeping mat. Sighing with frustration, he finally gave up and rose, accepting his fate; sleep would not come for him tonight.
Quietly exiting the room he shared with Sango, Kilala and Shippo (who were strategically placed between Sango and himself), Miroku walked down the open hallway. The air was remarkably calm and warm, the need for enclosed walls merely a structural one.
Stepping onto the grass, Miroku took a survey of his surroundings. Throughout the compound, various fruit trees grew, providing shade at seemingly regular intervals. A well kept garden on the northern quarter of the enclosure supplied enough food for a dozen large soldiers, and provided more than enough for the single lone monk who resided there.
In the center of the compound was the building he had stepped from. There were 8 rooms large enough for several people on the eastern side, the side he and the others were staying in, which was mirrored on the western side by another series of rooms. On each of the northern and southern walls of the building were sets of double doors, concealing the contents within.
To the east of the building was a well worn training area, a square patch of hard packed earth bare of all plant growth. There were various targets, ranging in shapes and sizes, scattered closer to the outer wall. Closer to the wall was a myriad of colourful flowers, well kept and orderly, not the random wildflowers found growing haphazardly in fields.
On the southern wall was the doorway that they had entered through earlier in the day. In the eastern corner near the door stood a tall structure, a platform on raised legs just shorter than the height of the outer wall. No ladder lay around the base, and there seemed no way to reach the top. In the western corner was a small shed, the outer wall containing several gardening tools.
On the western quarter was a small animal enclosure near an open expanse of grass and grain. Running inside the wall was a small brook that ended in a pool just north of the animal enclosure. A trickling stream exited the pool and ran out of the compound through an almost invisible hole in the western wall itself. Inside the animal enclosure a single tamed mountain goat and a smattering of captured wildfowl rested in comfort, oblivious to the observing human's anxiety.
Looking up to the waning but still plump moon, Miroku moved toward the training area. Sitting at the base of an apple tree located in the corner, Miroku attempted to meditate. At the sound of tiny footsteps padding towards him slowly, Miroku spoke without opening his eyes.
"You should go back to sleep, little one. The others will keep you company."
The footsteps stopped and after a quiet moment they retreated back to the house.
'Poor Shippo. He was probably worried about me.' Miroku thought to himself as he settled in for a night of quiet, awake, contemplation.
- - - - - - - - - -
Miroku was brought out of his meditation by the sound of wide, adult footsteps. Opening his eyes slowly, he let his eyes adjust to the morning light. Standing and stretching, Miroku looked to the person behind him.
"Good morning, Master Iyouko," Miroku spoke as he bowed in greeting.
Grunting in response, the monk turned on his heal. "Your friends are awake. I suggest you get something to eat. You will find breakfast prepared and in your room."
Smiling at the old man's contradictory nature, Miroku approached the house. He joined Sango, Shippo and Kilala and ate heartily of the meal provided.
"Is Kilala feeling any better," Miroku asked Sango. She had just finished eating her fill and was tidying up the room.
In response to his question, Kilala made a small mewl and closed her eyes.
"She's healing well, but she's still tired and will need another night or so before she can start walking around again. I suspect that the creatures who bit her left some kind of poison in her system. She's normally able to heal much more quickly." Sango sat next to Kilala and pulled her gently to her lap. Stroking Kilala's stomach with soft, even strokes, Sango looked to Miroku. "So where were you last night?" she asked. '...it's not like there were any women around,' she thought to herself with pursed lips.
"I meditated by one of the trees. I couldn't sleep," he said simply.
"Where's the old monk? Is he going to let us talk to him today?" Shippo asked, looking up from his breakfast.
The previous day they had been swept to their room and told by Iyouko that he did not appreciate visitors. He had offered them a place to sleep until Kilala was able to fly them out of danger telling them to leave as soon as possible. Miroku had asked him about the story and had been told to wait until morning.
Finishing his breakfast, Miroku looked up as a shadow paused in the door frame.
"Come with me. I will see to your dishes later." Iyouko turned and left before they had a chance to respond. Rushing out the door, Miroku followed the monk, Sango and Shippo in tow.
Turning the northern corner of the building, they saw the doors open, exposing the inside to the daylight. Peering inside, Miroku saw Iyouko settling into a meditative position near a well decorated alter. Adorning the alter were common items, twigs, stones, dried grass and flowers, all carefully and dedicatedly arranged.
'I had no idea he was so devout.' Miroku mused to himself before stepping into the sanctuary. 'Even after all of these years he still keeps his alter presentable'
Without opening his eyes, Iyouko spoke from his meditative position. "You are seeking a tale of a powerful gem with the ability to cast its possessor a great wish, are you not?"
With a nod, unseen by Iyouko's closed eyes, Miroku sat before him. "Yes, we wish to undo a powerful magic that has left a dear friend of ours..." he looked to Sango for help in describing the situation.
"...unpleasantly transformed," Sango finished at Miroku's pause. She sat next to him, laying Kilala on the floor at her knees.
"And what concern is it of this monk?" Iyouko's tone was eerily similar to Sesshomaru's, giving a cold, unconcerned response to their plight. "We are all shown a different path in life, why would I give you any information that would allow you to change someone's destiny?" At this he opened his right eye, eyebrow raise, awaiting their answer.
Sango's face burned with pent up rage. 'What kind of monk is this!' She thought to herself, barely keeping her anger from exploding.
As if responding to her thought Miroku replied to the monk. "Surely even a secluded monk such as yourself would know the value of a healthy, empowered miko, especially with all the demonic activity as of late?"
"Miko?" Both of Iyouko's eyes opened. "How could a miko be transformed against her will?"
"By a wish made on a powerful stone." Miroku wanted to encourage Iyouko's interest. "We are seeking something with greater powers so that she can be restored."
Iyouko closed his eyes again, nodding his head slightly, almost to himself. "Please leave me to myself. I will have to consider your request, and divine your true intent. I will give you an answer before sundown."
"But..." Sango started, rising slightly.
"No, I will not tell you now. Information regarding powerful artifacts cannot be given to just any travelers. Until I know your true intent, I will not speak of it."
Miroku gently put his hand to Sango's arm, stopping her from moving forward. "No Sango, it's okay. We have to wait for Kilala to heal anyway." Miroku glanced at the old monk. "He will find our intent true to our words."
Miroku rose, bowing, unseen by the old monk. Taking Shippo in his arms, he headed towards the door.
"Close the door when you leave. Do not interrupt me. I will be out when I have finished."
Waiting until Sango exited, Miroku did as requested. Closing the door, he sighed. This would be a long day.
"Well, Shippo, it looks like you'll get to play," said Miroku with a smile.
Shippo jumped from his arms, running towards the animal pen. The animals didn't look thrilled at the intrusion. The old goat bleated halfheartedly, probably knowing any resistance would be useless.
As Sango watched Shippo run around, trying to catch one of the birds, she felt a familiar sensation on her rear end. Wheeling around, Sango struck Miroku with full force, tattooing a reddened impression of her hand behind.
Leaving a dazed, yet starry-eyed, Miroku, Sango stomped her way to the animal enclosure.
Nursing his cheek with a small smile, Miroku left the two with the animals and took a walk around. Turning the corner, Miroku saw a flash of red hair whisk behind the far end of the building. With a puzzled expression, Miroku dashed in front of the doors housing the monk and turned the opposite corner. He heard the solid 'thunk' of a sliding door closing.
Puzzlement turning to curiosity, Miroku reached for the first door. Trying to slide it open, he found that it would not budge. Miroku tried the next and found that it, too, was shut solid. As he tried each door, he found that they were all immovable. Whoever was in there wasn't going to let him in.
'I'll have to ask Iyouko about it,' thought Miroku. 'There's nothing I can do, short of breaking the doors down. I'm sure that wouldn't help matters with the monk to find that I've destroyed his home.'
Returning to the tree where he had started the day, Miroku settled into the familiar meditative position, facing the doors he had just left. Eyes open, Miroku waited for whoever it was to exit.
- - - - - - - - - -
After waiting for several hours, Miroku started feeling hungry. Standing, Miroku turned towards the tree he had been resting under and reached up for one of the apples.
A gentle, unfamiliar, female voice whispered in his ear. "Souryo-sama, I would not take that one."
Turning, Miroku's eyes went wide. Standing before him was a tall red-haired hanyou. Her skin was a deep bronze, almost golden and here eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald green. Her ears, located where a normal human's would be, were large and thin, like bat's ears.
Reaching past the stunned monk, he smelled the faint sent of vanilla. She pulled down a more ripened apple than the one he had been reaching for.
"This one is more sweet, souryo-sama." She tentatively took his hand and held it palm up as she placed in his hand.
Snapping out of his stupor, Miroku dropped the apple and clasped her hands between his. Stepping towards her, Miroku looked deep into her eyes. "Will you do me the honour of bearing my children?"
This time it was the woman's turn to be stunned. Eyes wide, Miroku felt her step back, trying to extricate her hands from his firm grasp.
"Souryo-sama..."
"Miroku," he said in a husky voice. "Souryo-sama is so formal." Miroku stepped forward, keeping her hands close.
Miroku suddenly felt his body being yanked backwards as he was thrown to the ground. Looking up, he saw Iyouko standing above him, a look of rage marring his formerly peaceful form.
"Keep your hands off my daughter, monk," he growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Daughter!" Miroku looked up at the red-cheeked maiden half hidden behind her father. He suddenly saw the resemblance, and went pale. 'This is not going to be good...' he thought as he sat up, crossing his legs. He had just broken one of his most sacred rules. Daughters of powerful fathers were never to be approached...at least, not until the father was out of range.
"Leave now!" Iyouko ordered.
"Father!" The hanyou maiden touched his shoulder, bringing both of the men's attention to her. "It's my fault, I left Natsumi to talk to him."
Turning his anger to his daughter, Iyouko spoke in a harsh tone. "What have I taught you about strangers, hmm? They are never to be trusted!"
"But he's not a stranger!" Miroku became confused at her declaration. "Natsumi said that he told her to go back to bed last night. He knew we were here!" She looked to Miroku, imploring him to confirm her statement.
"Yes," he replied, remembering the noises he had dismissed as Shippo's. "I did tell Natsumi to go to bed last night," Iyouko glared at him. "But I thought it was Shippo."
As if on queue, Shippo and Sango turned the corner, their merry conversation silenced as they saw the stranger. Seeing Miroku on the ground and the beauty of the woman before him, Sango turned bright red with anger and stomped up to the group.
"Sango," Miroku said graciously. "This is Iyouko's daughter..." he paused, waiting for someone to say her name.
"Momoko," She finished for him. As if Sango hadn't approached, Momoko returned to the conversation. "Father, please grant them their request! I have seen their intent. Their friend has been transformed into a hanyou against her will. She cannot return to her home until she is restored." Momoko was interrupted by her father.
"What of it? A hanyou always has difficulty in this society. Why do you think we do not leave here?"
Obviously part of an old argument, Momoko sneered, marring her beauty. "Why do we not leave? Why do we not LEAVE!?" Her anger was palpable. "We don't LEAVE because you're too afraid we'll die just like Mother!"
Shock was written across Iyouko's face.
"She died because you didn't let her go willingly. You knew she would and you didn't stop her. WE don't leave because YOU don't leave, and without YOU leaving WE would be mauled by your little pets!"
Iyouko stood in stunned silence. He was pulled out of his daze as Momoko's angry tears turned to sobs. "You may like to live in seclusion, but we're still young. We need to experience the world, to see what's beyond these damnable walls!" Momoko collapsed into Sango, who put her arms around the wailing maiden.
In barely a whisper, Iyouko spoke to Miroku. "I will tell you the tale. Give me a moment to compose myself."
Miroku nodded, wondering how long ago Momoko's mother had been taken from her, how long she had lived here like a caged bird. Iyouko took his sobbing daughter into his arms and Miroku lead Sango away from the pained family.
- - - - - - - - - -
Clearing his throat, Iyouko settled deep into his position on the floor of his temple, Momoko calmly sitting at his side.
"It all started generations ago with a powerful miko, Midiroku..."
Miroku's eyes went wide and he looked at Sango as she looked to him. "Midiroku?" They called out at the same time.
Iyouko glared at the interruption. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
"Are you talking about the Shikon jewel?" Miroku continued, despite the warning.
"How do you know about that?" Iyouko asked. "I thought you were looking for information about a powerful magic."
"The Shikon jewel is the item that put us in this position. We need something more powerful."
Iyouko's eyes went wide. "You used the Shikon jewel?! It was said to be lost to time itself..."
"It was found," Miroku stated simply. He did not have the heart to tell the entire story, finding that he was hollow at this new discovery. 'All the work we did,' he thought to himself. 'And now we find it was nothing more than what we already knew.'
"I am sorry," the old monk said with a deep sympathy. "I know what it is like to lose someone dear to you."
"But father," Momoko gently touched his arm. "What of the Kasei-Ippin?"
Iyouko narrowed his eyes with disgust. "I cannot help them with that. Tell them what you know, I cannot bear to hear it." Iyouko stood and left a stunned Miroku, Sango and Shippo.
Waiting for her father to leave, she gave them all of the information she had. "I only know vague tales of the Kasei-Ippin. The story belongs to a bitter rival of my fathers so I only heard of the little my mother knew. It is a powerful item, changing forms with each wish that is cast. I really don't know much about it..."
"Then why tell us so little?" Shippo asked innocently.
"I can point you to the person who can tell you more. He sometimes visits, apparently he was very smitten with my mother before she chose my father." Momoko looked away for a moment, composing herself.
As Momoko described the route to the old man's home, it became apparent to Miroku and Sango that it would not be an easy journey. It would be several days before they could meet him to follow up on the next lead.
End of Chapter
- - - - - - - - - -
I'm going to be writing the story of Iyouko, Momoko et al as an epilogue.
-Sarga