There is the hunter and the hunted. - Rengar, League of Legends
The Sharingan. The demonic doujutsu. The heavenly eye. Those who perused the world through those crimson pupils were said to be able to see into the future, to capture imagery and perfectly retain it to minute detail, to manipulate others' perceptions of reality, to traverse space and time, and to control the minds of even the most powerful of beasts. They were capable even of bending fate to the user's will.
Those who wielded the Sharingan were considered by some to be gods. The assumption was not strictly true. The Sharingan did not make its wielder any less mortal. It did however, provide a unique and useful ability.
In order to collect the infinite quantity of data in the universe, he'd need an infinite amount of time to do so. Immortality had thus been necessary. He had all the time in the world. Having the Sharingan would have been nice, even if it wasn't necessary. The image-capturing abilities it provided made it vastly easier to accomplish his goals. If one were to remove the human mind's limited memory capacity, Sharingan users simply were the best and most efficient data processing units in existence, discounting the Rinnegan of course.
Years after Madara's demise, Orochimaru had undertaken a second massive study on the Uchiha bloodline limit. From what he'd gathered of Kabuto's experiments, the Sharingan could be genetically fostered into synthetic bodies. He had been pleasantly surprised to learn that, due to Kabuto's experimentations with Uchiha and Senju blood, the legendary Uchiha Madara had naturally developed the Rinnegan in a specially crafted Impure World body. This was made possible by culturing the cells of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, onto the sacrificial body used for Madara's Impure World Resurrection. Kabuto's mastery of the technique more than justified Orochimaru's choice to make the boy his protege.
After the Fourth Shinobi War, Kabuto had retired to run an orphanage. Orochimaru had continued his research. Using the many clones who carried Hashirama's genetic data, he'd managed to create artificial, Sharingan-wielding bodies. It was disappointing. Not a single one of his experiments managed to develop the Rinnegan. The Sharingan's development and progression were triggered by painful, emotional experiences. It was likely that the eyes of the mythical Sage of Six Paths also hinged on some triggering mechanism. Before he could find out just what said mechanisms might be, his experiment, Shin, had developed a sense of autonomy.
Shin had escaped and gone on to conduct his own experiments, creating clones of himself out of the pool of White Zetsus, clones which allowed him to replace and transplant any part of his body when necessary. Then, Shin had gone and provoked the host of the Nine-tails and leader of the Hidden Leaf village: the Seventh Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto. It was a stupid move. Shin was a failure, and Orochimaru had abandoned the Sharingan project for a time. Instead, he'd worked on perfecting his immortal lifespan and expanding the limits of his physical mind. While the former he'd managed to achieve, the latter was still imperfect. He did manage to increase his mental capacity. His knowledge was stored in an external Chakra-generating unit, one which he could access instantaneously both as a data resource and as a well of free and unlimited Chakra. While the Chakra was self-regenerating and could fulfill the quotas for even the most expensive of Jutsus, Orochimaru's data storage was of a finite capacity. It was a capacity he could not afford to fill with a wasteful, hundred-thousand year ice-age.
It was one of the factors to his decision to sleep those years away. He would task technological development to others and place his faith in humanity. Humanity would advance far beyond his wildest dreams while he slept. Then, he would wake and collect the fruits of their efforts. With the pace of society moving forward at the speed he'd observed, the world a hundred thousand years into the future should have been ripe with amazing new data.
Nearly a thousand years after the world-shaking Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru had put himself to sleep deep in the Earth. It was during this sleep that Furuto, an Uchiha descendant, had taken it upon himself to massacre all those who held Chakra. The agents he'd created, artificial Chakra-wielding sentries, contributed indirectly and irregularly to his data pool and had been the only source to inform him of Furuto's genocide run. After those agents were slaughtered, his knowledge of the outside world had been filled with a ninety-eight thousand year void.
Furuto, that psychopathic mass-killer had not only taken away a fundamental aspect of Orochimaru's experiments, he'd eliminated all traces of the Sharingan along with it.
The only genetic trace left of what had once been abundant in the world now ran only in his blood. Orochimaru was the last wielder of Chakra. Fortunately, while crafting his immortal body, he'd had the foresight to incorporate as many bloodline limits as he could. His body contained many bloodlines, including Uzumaki, Senju, Uchiha, and Hyuuga blood.
Yet, as well-endowed as he was, the only optical bloodline he'd actually been able to awaken was the Byakugan. The benefits it gave him were near-useless. He already had massively powerful sensory capabilities. At the time, it hadn't bothered him. It was a sign of progress. His bloodline-limit project had been on hold anyway and was secondary to his venture into stretching his natural memory-capacity.
Now, far into the future, the project had been put at the fore of his endeavors. Even with Uchiha blood in his veins, he couldn't seem to trigger the Sharingan. Having been alive for so many generations, Orochimaru's emotions had dulled considerably. He was still capable of feeling, but strong hatred and emotional pain were things he'd long lost the ability to feel. Those were negative emotions which served no purpose to him. Ironic, considering his still-running hypothesis. The Sharingan required sharp and deep emotional pain to trigger, his inability to feel those emotions were a setback. Even so, he saw no value in cultivating such emotions in himself. Perhaps he could artificially stimulate them. Emotions were, after all, biochemical in nature. The easiest way would be to examine the natural rise of such emotions and to analyze their effects on a developing dojutsu-user's Chakra circuit with minute detail.
As he sat among the primitive men in their primitive caves, clothing, and lifestyle, Orochimaru could not help but note how much humanity had regressed in his absence. What a pity. Perhaps it was true that even if he had been conscious instead of in stasis, he wouldn't have been powerful enough to stop Furuto, such was the Uchiha descendant's power, but maybe he could have saved some people, hidden them away for future use.
None of that mattered now. Hindsight almost always produced the optimal solution. If primitive cavemen were all he had to work with, then work with them he would.
Creating a synthetic body was an easy task. With his years of experience and experiments on synthesized lifeforms, Orochimaru had been been able to ready a body for habitation without much trouble, infusing it with his own blood to ensure that it inherited the genetic data that it needed.
Giving it life was the greatest challenge. With Shin, it had been easy. the lives of the many living Shin clones were drawn directly from the souls that were trapped within the God Tree, the source of all Chakra. It was a collection which no longer existed.
The clone templates had manifested as White Zetsu, and had been assumed to be cultivated duplicates of Senju Hashirama, first Hokage of the Hidden Leaf. The Fourth Shinobi War and the revival of the goddess, Kaguya, had proven that assumption to be wrong. White Zetsus were the result of the first, successful iteration of the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Trapped inside the cocoons of eternal dreams, the bodies of the technique's victims were slowly converted into blank-souls. No longer attached to their bodily memories, these souls, when manifested, took the shape of white plantmen, also known as White Zetsu.
There were no more White Zetsu now. They'd all been used up by Shin.
Without a convenient pool of souls to draw on, he would need to turn to other sources.
And so, during one of the first nights with the primitive clan, he'd singled out his targets.
Casting them into a deep trance with an Illusion Technique, he'd taken them to his lab. There, after forming the genetically engineered bodies that were to be inhabited, he'd begun the more difficult process of transferring their souls from their initial bodies into the synthetic ones. As a final touch, he'd shaped the new bodies into the form they were used to. His machinations were seamless. None of the clanspeople noticed the change, not even his targets.
The first steps of his plans rolled into place from there.
Four hundred years of wielding the Byakugan had given him incredible and unparalleled fine control of its ocular powers. It'd helped him to observe the girl's brain patterns as her mind crumbled. The clan's rejection of who she was had further deteriorated her condition. His denial of her, he knew, would ultimately be what broke her.
And it did. The Chakra's circulation and the chemicals in her mind provided him with ample detail as the girl's eyes swirled into the first stages of the Sharingan.
One single comma. Disappointing.
Still, the fact that she'd even developed the Sharingan at all was definitely a sign of success. As the girl crawled away from where his foot had shoved her, Orochimaru had turned and left. None noticed his departure, as mesmerized as they were by the pitiful girl who was once a respected Marked Hunter of the Mammoth Clan. He'd wanted to test his results immediately.
He had no time for primitive people.
His daughter was a willful girl.
In gathering, she would stay in the field alongside the older, tougher gatherers, pushing herself to match the rest. Where other children took rest at given opportunities, his daughter drove on alongside him, obstinately trying to keep pace with him. At the end of the day, she would proudly show him the fruits of her labors, which were, unsurprisingly, markedly less than his own. She was still younger and less experienced after all. Much of what she picked ended up being inedible grass. Still, he enjoyed her presence.
In weaving, she had been impatient. She could never sit still, and had more than once thrown her half-woven fabrics to her feet, loudly declaring that she was finished with it, much to the weavers' collective dismay.
In fighting, she was a terrifying force among her peers. Before she'd lost interest in weaving, a boy named Groc had torn her work from her grasps and ripped it apart in jest. She'd shoved him away angrily, and soon the two were brawling. Many had gathered to spectate, and Groc's pride took a large blow that day. After several failed attempts to redeem that pride, Groc learned that the outcast girl was not to be trifled with. Of course, her actions weren't without repercussion, and often brought upon her the wrath of the clan. Whenever his girl caused trouble, his clansmen, failing to elicit from her the desired results of their discipline, would come to him, the girl's father. They'd berate him for being too soft on the uncontrollable troublemaker, calling on him to perform his duties as a father.
It was something he'd loathed to do. He was proud of his headstrong little girl. Still, after hearing so many vicious and often justified charges against her, Ctul, doting as he was, would sometimes feel more shame than pride on the subject of the daughter his mate had bore. Why couldn't she just behave? Why couldn't she just do what she was told? It pained him, and on one particular day, the criticisms finally got to him.
That day, as his little girl followed him out on a gathering trip, complaining about some ordeal over the other children and pestering him with questions, his patience had finally snapped.
Turning on his feet, he'd beaten her across the face, shouting his frustration at her stubbornness. He blamed her. He yelled at her. Maybe it was her and not the children who was being unfriendly, he'd shouted. All his life he'd raised her without complaint. All his life he'd put up with her following by his side. She'd killed her mother at birth and taken away his mate. She should be grateful that he still chose to raise her, and yet all he'd ever received from her was trouble. Where once he was respected, the hunter Ctul had given up that respect to oversee a useless child. The nurses that'd breastfed her had dumped her back to him as soon as they could. No one liked her, and by extension, no one liked him. Why couldn't she just behave?!
The more he shouted, the better he felt. He was justified, he told himself. Everyone thought the same. When the elders admonished her, she'd simply ignore them. When the weavers who taught her went wroth at her antics, she'd pretend as if they weren't there. It was what they'd all said of her. His girl was possessed by a wild, untamable spirit. And so, as he threw his grievances at the girl and kicked her to the floor, he had expected her to react as she usually did. After all, she'd never shown any regard to the authorities before.
Her reaction contrasted immensely with what he'd expected. Instead of ignoring him, the girl had stared right into his eyes. She didn't turn away. She didn't run. She didn't talk back. She'd simply stared.
As her eyes filled with silent tears, Ctul could not help but feel needles of guilt crawl across his skin. His daughter had never been one to cry excessively, but that day, she'd shed more tears than she had since she was a tiny baby.
Then, when the guilt fully settled, when he'd finally realized what he'd done, Ctul was instantly consumed with regret. He loved his daughter. She worked hard, and her constant company comforted him.
Standing there, staring at his daughter as she did her best to refuse the tears that fought to escape her, Ctul knew that what he'd done was wrong.
Their relationship was never the same again. His own daughter stopped talking to him, even when they lived in the same circle. She stopped following him, and she refused to even look at him. Conversely, her behavior improved immensely. His clansmen, even one of the Shaman, had come to him in awe. To them, he'd done the impossible. She'd suffered many punishments. Some had beaten her. Others refused her meals or forced upon her harsh, unforgiving tasks, yet she remained obstinate and unchanged. That he'd managed to accomplish what they couldn't do in a single day astounded them.
How did he do it? They asked. It was a question he refused to answer, a story he refused to tell. Seeing that his girl no longer needed him, Ctul rejoined the hunters. He couldn't bear to look upon her. He couldn't bear to see her staring despondently into the fires at night. He went on more hunting trips, returning as infrequently as possible, and ignored his own daughter just as she ignored him. When he returned, he did his best to avoid her. He could tell he'd hurt her. To her, he had been the one constant in her life who did not make her feel unwanted by the others, the one she could rely on to put up with her incessant company and cavalier attitude, and the one who she had wanted to make proud with her efforts at miming his every move.
His once cheerful and energetic daughter had become dull and depressed, and the few times he'd saw her, he was torn by the change that he'd brought upon the once cheery girl. It resurfaced his guilt. He couldn't face her, and so he left her to her own devices, observing her from a distance at best. She'd lost interest in the things she used to enjoy, he'd noticed. Instead of running freely outside in the open air to aid in gathering expeditions like she used to, the girl sat in the cave all day with the weavers who she hated. Even with her behavior improved, many of those she'd spited in the past now took the opportunity to use her newfound docility against her. Despite the way she poured all her old energies into the weaving that had been expected of her previously, the weavers refused to properly teach her. Being naturally unskilled with the art, and never having picked up the skill, her projects ended up miserable tatters. It was also during this period of depression that Groc managed to redeem his honor. The boy bragged loudly of his exploit with such diligence, not a single clan member wasn't made aware of the fact that Groc had beaten the strongest of the children in a fight.
There was nothing Ctul could do. Many seasons later, when he'd finally overcome his guilt to talk to her, his daughter ignored his attempts at re-establishing a familial connection. It was then that he gave up. If his daughter wanted to be subjected to humiliation and suffer on her own, then suffer she would.
The clan would raise her, as it generally did with its young. He was never required to have a hand in the process anyway. And so, in his willful ignorance, he'd failed to catch exactly when his daughter had re-emerged from her cocoon of self-inflicted depression, neither did he catch her developing interest in the tasks of the Hunter. Only when she'd been taken along on one of the hunts, with a Marked Hunter no less, did he finally realize what was going on.
Even though he'd vowed to break his ties with the girl, seeing the spark of interest and fervor in her eyes again had been a relief.
His daughter had found another to follow, another who was willing to accept her willful nature and her stubborn companionship. As luck would have it, the one whom she attached herself to also happened to be a Marked Hunter, a well-respected individual whose merits and strength were lauded greatly.
His daughter was the type to form singular but incredibly strong attachments. He was glad that the attachment was made to a Marked Hunter, and that the woman allowed the girl's company. Atma was a Hunter who even the Shamans held in high esteem. The woman would do good for her daughter. Or so he had thought.
His daughter had always been impressionable. He remembered days when she would follow him around, doing anything that he did to the best of her abilities.
And so, as the Shamans derided his daughter's name and blamed her for Atma's death, for defying the spiritual order, Ctul knew that they were wrong. Atma was the one to blame. Atma was the one who corrupted his daughter. Rahn didn't kill Atma. The woman deserved her death for what she did to Rahn. Of course, no one would believe him. Many of them still remembered his daughter's reputation and despised her. Her recent plight had only re-elicited those feelings. Even when she'd gained her own Mark, something which had given him immeasurable pride, the girl - the woman who she'd become - had been feared and respected, but never loved. Atma, in contrast, had been like Oro - accepted by all, loved by many.
If what his daughter had said about Atma had been true, then her attachment to Oro wasn't really a surprise. Oro was like Atma, but far exceeded the latter in all ways, shape and form. It was Atma's fault that his daughter had become what she was. It was Atma's fault that his daughter was lying dead at this very moment in poor Tet's arms.
"-ignoble death." The Shaman was saying "Disgusting and unacceptable. We will not mourn her. We never mourn the dead, but for this taboo, we will do more. The woman's spirit will not be given the rite of passage. It will only bring taint to the spirit world. And now, a moment of peace." The three Shaman began to hum, and were stopped short by a furious shout from the crowd.
"NO!"
The female Shaman stopped and searched over the crowd with her old eyes. "We are singing to the spirits." She said gravely. "Who dared speak?"
The crowd parted as a man pushed his way to the front. "Rahn did not kill Atma! Atma corrupted her!"
"No. Ctul." The elder male Shaman stood. "Atma would never do such a thing. Atma was Good. Rahn was Bad. She would not have ended her own life if she had been pure. Your daughter is an abomination. Her spirit is evil."
"That's not true." Ctul snarled. "Ctul raised Rahn. Rahn is loud, stubborn, but Rahn is not evil."
A woman to his side, a weaver, gently patted his shoulder. "Ctul is blinded by love for daughter. Indra understands, but Rahn has always been wild, like animal."
"Indra lies." Ctul shoved the woman to the floor. Almost instantly, he was barreled to the ground by his surrounding clanspeople, who only stopped upon a Shaman's behest.
"Peace!" A few people let up and let go of the man while others restrained him. "Peace, Ctul." The Shaman continued. From what she knew of Ctul, the man had supposedly severed his ties with his daughter. The latter's death had opened up an old wound of guilt that she knew the man carried. It was a delicate situation, but one which she could handle. "Ctul's spirit was hurt from daughter's death, and the Shamans will heal you." She offered kindly. "Be at peace and sing to the spirits."
Slowly, Ctul was released as those around him let him sit up. Calming his breathing, he shook his head as he started to feel the first wave of grief hit him. Secretly, he'd always wanted to talk to his daughter again. Now he didn't have a chance. The Shamans weren't even going give her spirit passage. He wanted to fight, but something held him back. A sea of eyes surrounded him, waiting for his response. Maybe he was wrong. He was the only one who thought Rahn was Good. The girl had killed her own mother and scorned the clan's rules. Yes, he thought, it was time for him to admit to the truth. With clenched teeth, he accepted his daughter's fate. "Ctul will sing."
"Good." The Shaman nodded before resuming her hum with the other two around her.
The spiritual song flowed through the air, and Ctul let it soothe his spirit. Inside, he'd always known what his clanspeople had been telling him to be true. He had been blinded by love, and had let his emotions get the better of him at his daughter's death. She was an abomination. Her admittance to having committed taboo before her death was the ultimate proof: Rahn was a depraved spirit. It was time he accepted that truth and moved on.
It wasn't that he wasn't happy with the result. On the contrary, the fact that he'd managed to even produce a single comma was a triumph, especially when considering the fact that he'd failed to do even that much in his previous eight hundred conscious years. Still, the single-comma Sharingan was nearly useless.
Despite his grievance, he understood that the Uchiha's ocular bloodline took time to mature.
Pain manifested the Mangekyo Sharingan, the highest level of Sharingan that could be achieved. It was the Mangekyo which had allowed Uchiha Obito to travel through space time, given Uchiha Sasuke control of the instantaneous and unquenchable fires of Amaterasu, provided Uchiha Madara with the ability to split mountains in a single stroke with his flaming Susano'o. But even Uchiha Sasuke, faced with the tragedy of his brother's death, had spent weeks in misery before his eyes had fully converted into the Mangekyo's kaleidoscopic wheel. From what he knew of that period, Uchiha Obito had helped his kinsman develop a hatred to the Hidden Leaf, provoking and finalizing the maturation of said kinsman's eyes.
It wasn't merely pain, but a duality of pain and hatred that was required to trigger the Mangekyo Sharingan.
Orochimaru allowed himself a brief smile as his thoughts drifted into the past, a time when he'd coveted the eyes of one Uchiha Sasuke. It was the first venture in which he'd intentionally fostered that particular emotion. Hatred came easy to the Uchiha. Further, the Sharingan could take years to develop. The hatred had to be enduring. Orochimaru himself had had considerable proof of that.
He was so close now.
The girl had already been pushed into despair. All he had to do now was have her channel her former love and strong devotion into the two that he needed her to feel: burning hatred and sorrow.
Reconfiguring his appearance once more, Orochimaru covered the many kilometers between his lab and the home of the Mammoth clan in a single instant. he immediately noticed a problem.
It was nighttime and the clanspeople were laying in clusters about their fires. A few men - sentries - noticed his entrance and came toward him.
Ignoring their ingratiating greeting, Orochimaru spoke softly in his woman's voice. "Where is Rahn?"
"Rahn-" The first of the men, Goro, started to speak.
"Rahn is with Tet." interrupted another whose name was Ket.
The men shared a glance. "Oro watch the night with us?" Goro offered.
Orochimaru smiled and shook his head, stalking off deeper into the cave. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could pinpoint his targets perfectly. Tet was sitting alone at their fire-circle, and in his arms was the corpse of the girl.
It was at this moment he realized that he had messed up. Instead of eagerly running off to test the results of his experiments, he should have stayed to make sure his long-term targets were unharmed.
Orochimaru closed his eyes calmly. He would need to modify his plans. Rahn shouldn't have died yet.. the foolish girl. After a brief moment's thought, his eyes flicked open. With his new plans assured, he walked down the tunnel, ignoring the sleeping people around him, and entered the cavern room.
The situation could be salvaged.
He sat, staring at her, still unable to process or believe what he was seeing. Her eyes, once full of life, were glazed over, and her blood had pooled thickly around him. Even with all the evidence, he refused to accept that the huntress was dead. The fire flickered, and for a moment, he thought her eyes had moved in the light.
"Rahn?" He called softly for the umpteenth time and, as was the case with his previous calls, the woman made no response. He'd long lost track of the day, but he was pretty sure it was long past time for his circle-mates to turn in and sleep. It meant that they were probably sleeping elsewhere in other fire-circles. He didn't blame them. Their attempts at taking his huntress away from him were met with fierce resistance and anger. He'd scared them away, and hadn't even attended Rahn's spiritual passing. It was mostly his fault, but part of it was also theirs. They'd pushed her and pushed her all her life. Normally he wouldn't have been so worried. She'd endured worse. He was, however, acutely aware that Oro's words had been what finally drove Rahn to do what she did to kill- no.. to attempt to kill herself. She wasn't dead. Of course not. She was right there in his arms.
Any time now, she'd sit up. Any time now..
"Tet." A voice suddenly called him out of his trance.
He turned his head up soullessly in response. "Oro.."
"Is Rahn..?" The woman stopped, letting him fill in the question.
Tet hugged his huntress to him possessively. "No. Rahn is not dead. She's not. Just wait. Rahn will be better soon."
Oro sauntered over and knelt in front of him, her eyes on Rahn's still form. "What happened?"
At the question, Tet suddenly remembered the cause of Rahn's current state. "Rahn loved Oro," He snarled. "And Oro destroyed her."
Oro looked at him with a questioning look. "Oro.. destroyed Rahn?"
Tet gently laid his huntress to the floor. His entire lower body was soaked in her blood. Oro's eyes were large as he glared down at her. "You killed Rahn." He bit out furiously.
"I.. killed Rahn?"
With a growl, Tet kicked the woman, in the same way that he'd seen her kick Rahn. Oro fell to her side, unmoving. Tet felt a grim satisfaction and was about to do further damage when Oro sobbed. "Rahn was Oro's friend. Oro didn't want this. Rahn was Oro's friend. Oro didn't know. Oro didn't know that Rahn wanted to.. that Rahn wanted to mate her. Oro just wanted to be Rahn's friend. Oro didn't know.."
Tet narrowed his eyes. "Rahn was Oro's friend.." he repeated. "Oro did not want Rahn like Rahn did not want Tet." The realization gave him pause. He couldn't be angry at Oro. She was blameless. It was Atma then. If what Rahn had said was true, then it was Atma that had given her the idea that she could - he shivered - mate other women. It was Atma's fault.
Tet closed his eyes as he let his anger be redirected elsewhere. "I am sorry."
Immediately, he was pulled into an embrace. "Oro is sorry too." The woman sniffed. "Oro is sorry that Rahn is dead."
Tet sat numbly as he let the words finally sink in. Rahn is dead. He'd admitted that himself when he'd blamed Oro for killing her. Rahn is dead. Tet wailed loudly in grief and clutched Oro to his chest. As he held her in his arms, his resistance failed, and finally, after having denied it for so long, Tet cried his sorrow away as Oro comforted him.
They went out into the cold night together. The entire camp was asleep except for the sentries, who let them pass wordlessly. It seemed not everyone disregarded Rahn's demise. For that, Tet was glad. He was also glad Oro was with him. She was the only kindred spirit who understood him. She cared about Rahn, as a friend. Oro also seemed to care about him. Without her, Tet would have found it difficult to move on.
And as he carried Rahn's body out into the chilly night with Oro walking ahead of him, he could not help but admire her, even in his mourning. For once, the Shaman's words did not apply. Rahn's spirit had not been given passage. He would never see her again, not even in the spirit world, thus he was entitled to mourn her. It was the least he could do.
Oro stopped and turned to face him, her beautiful eyes full of sorrow. "Here."
Tet let his eyes roam his surroundings. The forest of frost-covered trees swayed in the breeze of the an icy wind. Besides the wind, he could also hear the sounds of various critters bustling about in nighttime activity. It was a place Rahn would've loved to be, a place of wild spirits where she belonged.
Tet fought off another round of tears, not wanting to appear weak in front of Oro. He didn't care that she'd already seen him at his most vulnerable. He didn't want her to see that side of him again. Instead, he lowered Rahn against a tree, making sure to give her enough angle to see the stars.
He started to leave, navigating by the moonlight, when he realized that Oro wasn't coming with him. "Oro?" He called. "Oro come?" The woman stood in the darkness. For some reason, even with the almost complete lack of light, Tet realized that he could see her, like a cat in the night, he could somehow make out her form. "Oro?"
The woman shifted in place and sat next to Rahn's body. "Oro stay and mourn."
Tet's eyes widened. Oro was like him. He smiled sadly. He couldn't blame Rahn for loving her. It was not Oro's fault, he told himself once more. With the thought in mind, he raised his voice. "Tet is leaving then."
The hunter let his words hang in the air, waiting for a reply and heard only a gentle sob. Guiltily, Tet felt glad that Rahn had another who grieved her like he did. It wasn't that he enjoyed others' suffering, but somehow, the sound of Oro's tears made him feel better.
He turned on his feet and left, his entire body feeling drained. He didn't even care about the fact that he was practically smothered in Rahn's blood. There was nothing more he wanted than to sleep and shut out the day's event. Maybe he'd wake up and find that the day's events were all nothing more than a terrible dream.
With morbid hope, the hunter trailed back alone.
As Tet walked away, Orochimaru lifted the corpse's eyelids to verify what he knew to be true. Even in death, the Sharingan remained in the girl's eyes. Letting the girl's eyelids fall shut, Orochimaru sat still and extended his senses outwards, enveloping a sea of land into his sensory range. Seventy kilometers out, he found a few stragglers, some lone humans sleeping away in distant cover. They were just what he needed.
He stepped silently into their midst. The one scout they'd left awake to warn them of danger would later tell the others that their companion had been whisked away by a spirit. So sudden was her disappearance that he hadn't even been given the chance to react. An unseen and unstoppable force had taken one of their comrades and that, more than anything, scared the scout into numb silence. In that dark night, Orochimaru took hold of and abducted a female form. She didn't even have time to scream.
Back in the forest, he dropped the abducted girl next to the corpse sitting against the tree. Not knowing where she was, the girl scrambled away blindly in fear. Orochimaru laughed. and strolled slowly toward the girl who inadvertently bumped against the corpse in her scuffling movement.
Eyes barely adjusted to the dark, the girl was blissfully unaware both of what she'd just touched and of the woman figure stalking toward her. "What do you want?!" She whimpered.
With a mind toward mercy, Orochimaru cast the girl into a happy illusion. A smile crept across her face and she stopped struggling.
Orochimaru paused for a moment. Ever since Sasuke, he'd told himself that he'd given up on convoluted schemes. Now, with nothing and no one to compare to his abilities, he was almost guaranteed to succeed anyway, even with several degrees of complexities in his planning.
Stepping into his lab, he retrieved one of the extra synthetic bodies he'd made, and stepped back into the forest in which his targets lay.
He carefully shaped the frame to match Rahn's previous form. Then, blurring his hands through a short series of seals, he invoked the technique that had been perfected for him by his protege - a technique that was used to great devastation in the Fourth Shinobi War ninety-nine thousand years ago.
"Impure World Resurrection!"
The living girl, trapped in her illusion, disappeared without a single sound as her body took on the shape of another. Rahn's soul fitted into the new body.
Having retrieved the woman's soul from the Pure World, Orochimaru tore that soul out. The Impure world body and the girl who it originally belonged to died. Then, taking the soul that he held, Orocchimaru jammed it into the synthesized body that he'd shaped in Rahn's form beforehand.
Then, finally, he changed himself. Some Shadow Clones and a simple Genjutsu Illusion should be enough to serve his needs.
An owl hooted, alerting her of her surroundings. Instantly, she opened her eyes, her instincts on high alert. She was outside. In the cold and alone. Was this the spirit realm?
Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. It looked no different from the world as she'd known. She took one step and immediately wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold, and she wasn't wearing nearly enough to stave it off.
She licked her lips and swallowed before putting her hands slowly to her chest to feel the heart beating inside. She was.. alive?
Rahn looked down at her hands. It was too dark to see. Peripherally, she registered a small glow up ahead, high up in a not-so-distant tree. Confused and slightly scared, she crept toward the small, ethereal light, her vision gaining sudden clarity as she strained her eyes to focus.
It was the small outline of children's bodies, lined up on various branches at different heights along the massive tree.
Heart hammering in her chest, she approached the children with as much stealth as she could muster. As she got closer, she noticed something which terrified her immensely. She was sure she'd made no sound yet every child seemed to be staring at her, their white, opaque frames glowing eerily.
"Rahn." A voice spoke directly in her head. Rahn's heart leapt twice in blatant fear. At the foot of the illuminated tree sat an ancient-looking man who glowed brighter than all the others.
"What are you?" She asked, feigning a confidence she did not have.
The man stood to his full height. Although ancient, he was easily twice Groc's size. "You do not recognize me? You, of the clan which sings its praises to me at the end of every journey, after every hunt?"
Sudden comprehension dawned on her. "Great Spirit!" Rahn threw herself to her knees. "Why is Rahn here?"
"Does Rahn know where here is?" Up in the trees, the children started to giggle.
"The spirit realm?" More of the children joined in the giggling and Rahn frowned up at them, only to worsen their mockery of her.
"No." The Great Spirit chuckled mirthfully. "Take another guess." The man's eyes twinkled as he waited for her response.
She paused for a moment as she considered her experiences up to this point. "The human realm?" She answered weakly.
The Spirit nodded
She gaped at the Spirit who seemed greatly amused. "But why?"
The air suddenly grew colder, if that were possible. The children's giggling stopped abruptly and the Spirit's kindly expression melted. "The Clan of Mammoth.. has offended me greatly."
Even having been scorned by her clan, she'd grown up with them, and, despite the friction between them, she loved her people. The Great Spirit's denunciation brought back those feelings. She didn't want her clan harmed. Braving her fear, she looked into the angry spirit's eyes, hoping to appease it. "And what has the Clan of Mammoth done to offend you, Great Spirit?"
The Spirit laughed coldly. "Tell me, Rahn. Is it wrong that you mated Atma? That you desired to mate Oro?"
Rahn stopped in thought as the events before her death surfaced in her memories. All the clan's scorn, the Shaman's conviction that she was wrong cluttering her head. She didn't know. The Shamans had always been the ones to give spiritual guidance and their answers had been unanimous. Rahn put on a facade of conviction. "Yes."
The Spirit nodded. "Your spirit is tainted, Rahn."
Rahn nodded back. She didn't know what else to do. To hear the Great Spirit himself deny her shook her deeply. What was to become of her?
"And yet.." The Spirit continued, all traces of kindliness gone. Above, the children shared his contempt and glared down at her. "And yet the clan leaves you with me. They refused to sing for your passing. Rahn cannot go to Spirit Realm. Rahn is tainted."
Rahn bowed her head at the Spirit's words. "Rahn is sorry."
"The Great Spirit does not want Rahn to remain at his side." The old man sat back down. "So Rahn will be given one chance to clean her spirit of filth." Rahn flinched at the last word as she recalled another instance in which she'd heard it.
"Rahn will follow the Great Spirit's guidance." The huntress said solemnly.
The Great Spirit hummed in acknowledgement. "Rahn will return to her clan, and Rahn will become mate of Tet and give Tet what he deserves."
Outwardly, Rahn nodded in quick acceptance. Inside, she was torn. Even the Great Spirit was rejecting her. Is this what happened to those who let themselves become tainted? "As the Great Spirit commands." she heard herself say.
The Spirit's kindly smile returned. "Good Rahn. Do not waste Great Spirit's kindness.. Tor." A child vanished from the tree and reappeared at the Great Spirit's side. "Show Rahn the way back to the clan."
The child, Tor, nodded. "Come." He said.
Rahn stood. "Wait." She called desperately as the children started to fade one by one. "What happened to Atma's spirit?"
"Atma?!" The Spirit roared. "Atma tricked the clan to giving her passing. Atma has been removed from the Spirit Realm and wanders the Human Realm as a Spirit. Alone. Forever. She will not see her family or her loved ones again.. and no, Rahn will not be able to find her. Do not think that thought again. Now leave."
With that, the Spirit was gone, leaving the child, Tor, to be the only trace of her encounter. Tor turned away and began to walk, and Rahn stumbled after him.
As they walked, Rahn grew curious. She understood the Great Spirit's presence, but what was with the children? It was not often one got to meet the deity of one's worship, and Rahn was full of questions. "Why do children follow the Great Spirit?" She asked.
The child ignored her and walked faster.
Rahn stopped in place. Even the spirits held her in contempt. She was trapped. Death was no escape. Even the Great Spirit himself..
Her lips quivered, the rejection of her existence finally overwhelming her. Rahn cried silently, letting the tears she'd been withholding finally fall loose from its container. Atma was the only one who understood her, and Atma was gone. She missed her fellow huntress. She missed the woman's presence, her understanding, and her love. Immediately, Rahn felt guilty. Her thoughts were tainted. She needed to drive them from her mind.
As if noticing her sudden pause, her guide stopped a distance away. "Come." He said tonelessly.
Rahn nodded numbly and followed.
Tetma yawned. She hated being night sentry, especially for the late-shifts. If she had her way, she would be asleep all the way into the morning.. undisturbed. The Others never came this way, and had long learned to avoid the Mammoth clan's caverns. There was nothing to sentry for, and yet here she was, standing the night away and not getting sleep.
A distance away, she could see the other sentries. They were spread enough to cover most of the entrance grounds, but not enough to be within talking distance. Tetma stared into the dark forest glumly and froze in place.
From the darkness, she could see two glowing red eyes moving toward her position. She turned a quick glance to the sentries to her right and left. They hadn't noticed it yet.
Holding out her spear, she collected her courage. All thoughts of sleep and boredom scattered away and was replaced by a nervous wariness. "Who's there?" She challenged.
The sentries to her sides noticed her change in stance and gathered to provide reinforcement.
"Tetma." Came the reply to her query.. a woman's voice. "You know me."
Tetma lowered her spear. She recognized that voice, but that couldn't be. "Tortured spirit, leave us in peace. The clan does not welcome you."
"Tetma." The voice drew closer and the spirit walked into the firelight. "Rahn is not a spirit."
"Rahn?" The sentry to her side blurted.
Tetma gulped. Marked Hunters were well-known among the clan. The red-eyed demon's identity was unmistakable. "Rahn. Go away."
Rahn shook her head. "Rahn will not go away. The Great Spirit has returned life to her. Rahn must speak with Shaman elders."
"Where is Rahn's Mark?" The other sentry asked.
Rahn stopped and put a hand up to her cheek. She gasped almost inaudibly as if only discovering the Mark's absence herself. "The Great Spirit took Rahn's Mark.." she whispered.
Tetma stared disconcerted into the woman's unnaturally red eyes. Rahn did not have red eyes. "Tetma will wake the elders." She stalked off hurriedly, leaving the two other sentries to hold this 'Rahn' in place. Hopefully the Shaman elders would know what to do with the dead woman.
The Shaman woke slowly, annoyed to have been waken so late in the night. "What is it, Tetma?"
Tetma stared into their tired eyes. If she ever got the power to do so, she would put these lazy Shamans on night sentry just to see how annoyed they'd be to be woken not just this one night, but every night. Storing away that thought, she pointed toward the cave entrance. "Rahn's spirit is there. It is haunting us and wishes to speak with Shaman elders."
The elder female Shaman groaned and stood. "If this is a trick, Tetma, we will be greatly displeased."
Tetma nodded. "No trick." She quickly led the Shaman to the entrance. To her relief, Rahn was still there. "See? No trick."
"Elders." Rahn announced as they approached. "Let Rahn speak."
Ctul looked with pity upon the man. Of all the clanspeople, Tet had been affected the most by his daughter's death. The man had clutched to his daughter and sat in a pool of her blood all day. Now his daughter was standing next to him, her blood still staining his chest and his legs. Rahn wasn't worth the trouble nor did she deserve this second chance that'd been given her. Ctul still loved his daughter of course. He would always love his daughter. That didn't mean he couldn't or didn't despise her too.
Tet seemed to not share those thoughts. The young hunter stood next to his daughter, happy and seemingly oblivious to what she was or what she'd done. Rahn, to his disgust, stood demurely. Even with their separation, he could still read his daughter's various moods. It was clear she didn't like the arrangement that had been forced upon her by the Great Spirit. Ctul glared at his ungrateful spawn.
Tet had always done his best to win his daughter. If anything, the man was just as stubborn as the girl, but no matter what he did, she'd deny him, turn him down and wear away his spirit. Ctul thought back to the past. Many seasons of watching Tet suffer for his wretched daughter had made him sympathetic to the younger man. He'd never questioned Rahn's lack of mates, and thought nothing of it. She was a Marked Hunter and was free to do as she willed.
The truth behind her neglect had shattered that sentiment. The more he thought about it, the more he despised her. Every memory of her had become tainted. Every interaction she'd made were now suddenly cast through the stark light of her obscenity.
Poor Tet. To have become so enamored with such a person.. Ctul was half inclined to blame the situation on some Spirit, one that probably enjoyed creating pain and tragedy on unsuspecting human targets. If such a spirit did exist, it was probably here among them at that very moment, waiting to reap the fruits of its victims' inevitable demise.
Tet received his blessing in front of the entire clan. It was one of the happiest moments in his short life. Rahn had been returned to life by the Great Spirit. It was a miracle beyond miracles. She'd also finally accepted him. Even if the acceptance was, according to the Shamans, a machination of the Great Spirit for her atonement, Tet wasn't about to throw away this chance to show Rahn just how much he needed her and how much she could learn to need him.
He was so happy that he was willing to overlook the changes that had come over her. Rahn's behavior had been subdued and her willingness to mate him had seemed out of the ordinary. More, she had lost her Hunter's Mark. Apparently the Great Spirit had taken it from her.
He knew how much pride she took in that Mark and how much it'd meant to her. It was a symbol of what she'd had with Atma. Tet wasn't a fool. Rahn may be stubborn and difficult, but she never spoke false. He'd come to terms with the truth. Rahn had mated Atma, then she'd wanted to mate Oro. It was a past that he just had to accept without grievance. The Great Spirit had given her to him. That was all that mattered.
The loss of her Mark was a small cost to pay for the life she'd been given in return.
Tet had never been more heartfelt as they sung to the Great Spirit. Then, when the clan dispersed, he'd taken her hands gently. "Rahn. Come."
Rahn nodded quietly and followed. Something in the back of his mind told him that this wasn't the fierce huntress that he'd loved. He ignored that voice, letting his happiness overrule it by overwhelming margins. In time, Rahn would be herself again, and in time, she would learn to be happy with him. It was a good thought, one which he desperately needed to believe.
Even when Atma was alive, Tet had stuck to her. The man was more stubborn than she'd thought possible, chasing her all the way to her death. Now that she considered it, such a devotion should have frightened her.
Rahn did not want to mate Tet. It was something he could not seem to understand no matter how many times she'd made that known to him. It was a reckless and psychotic pursuit on his part.
Still, his attentions had been flattering, and over the years, Tet had come to be a friend who she could rely on and trust. More than once, she'd wished she could do for him what he desired, but it simply didn't feel right. She was a Marked Hunter. She was free to make her own decisions, and so she had, even knowing how much it hurt him.
It was strange, having a mate. As Tet sat her down at their shared circle, Rahn steeled her resolve. She would give Tet what he deserved, just as the Great Spirit had commanded. She would reject herself.
She would learn to love Tet the way she loved Oro. No.. She didn't love Oro, she told herself. It was a tainted Rahn that had carried such thoughts. The Great Spirit had given her life so that she could remove that taint and carry herself as she should. And she would. Rahn did not love Oro, nor did Rahn love Atma.
Such were her thoughts as Tet reached a tentative hand forward. "Will Rahn mate with Tet?" He asked almost hesitantly. It was a question he'd posed many times in the past.
Rahn released a breath of humor, a brief chuckle.
Tet narrowed his eyes and waited with bated breath.
There was no reason for him to ask her permission. Rahn no longer had the Mark. The choice was out of her hands. Besides, the Shaman had already given Tet the blessing he needed. The fact that he even bothered to ask made Rahn want to love him all the more.
No. She didn't want to love him. She already did love him, just as he loved her. Drawing upon her new resolve, she spoke with conviction. "Yes."
'Yes' the word echoed in his head. Tet smiled and then broke into laughter. It was the answer he'd been waiting for all these years. To finally hear it from her lips made him want to run and shout for joy. He loved her. He loved Rahn more than he loved the swaying green trees, the clean morning air or the infinite specks of starlight in the sky. He loved Rahn more than he loved to hunt. He loved her more than the clan itself. He loved her more than he knew what to do with. And she, in turn, was learning to love him.
Still smiling, Tet laid his mate to the stone floor, gliding his hand across her chest and down her belly.
Rahn giggled and squirmed. "Tet tickles."
Tet chuckled as he slowly lifted the mammoth skin off his beloved huntress. After removing the last of her layers, he paused to examine her body. It was exactly as he'd expected. Rahn was beautiful.
Lying on her back, Rahn stared up at him with wide eyes. After a long moment of silent wait, she began to worry. "Tet?"
Tet shivered at the question. Without further delay, he dropped his own skins, letting them fall around him. Then, pulling her hips up with his hands, he took her.
The crowd of spectators that had gathered to watch the mating cheered.
She woke feeling sore. The night had been long and tiring. She'd done her best to keep up with Tet, whose boundless energy seemed to keep him pumping into her long after the crowds had dispersed. Tet had savored every piece of her with care and affection. It'd drained her beyond exhaustion, but she'd endured. She'd done her duty and given herself to Tet. For her to have lasted so long, she must have enjoyed it. She was sure of it. That must be the reason.
A scuffling sound came from her side and, lifting Tet's arm from around her back, Rahn turned her head to catch Oro staring at her. Even as the dark-haired woman looked away, Rahn felt an unintentional heat kindle within her belly.
How long had Oro been watching her? Scooting away from Tet, she quickly covered herself with her skins, not daring to risk a glance at Oro. Peripherally, Rahn could still see the woman, and suddenly, she realized that Oro must have been watching her with the crowd when Tet had taken her. The thought brought her blood rushing to her face. Sharing the same circle, she distantly recalled that Oro had stayed too, even when most of the other clanspeople had left.
Rahn pinched her wrist, twisting the skin to clear her mind. Oro did not love her and she did not love Oro.
Tet was the one she loved.
Standing, the huntress took a fat-fueled torch and walked out the cave room, down the dark tunnel, towards the river basin deep inside the cavern complex.
Stupid Rahn. She chided as she walked. Behind her, she could hear the soft patter of footsteps. Someone was following her. Wheeling on her feet, her heart skipped to the sight of Oro coming to a halt.
Rahn suddenly recalled the words that had been uttered to her not long ago. 'You disgust me.' Rahn pursed her lips and glared at the woman who had broken her heart before. "Oro.. what do you want?"
Oro visibly flinched at the sharp tone. "Oro is-" The woman began and then, as if collecting her thoughts, she paused before continuing. "Oro is happy to see Rahn again."
There was a moment of silence as Rahn stared into Oro's sincere-looking eyes, her mind a scattered mess as she tried to process what she felt for Oro now. Throwing all thoughts to the wind, she turned away wordlessly and resumed her march into the deeper recesses of the cave.
Again, she heard the patter of feet. "Oro." She said as kindly as she could. "Go away."
She received no response, but the sound of Oro's feet on the cold stone of the cave floor continued to pursue her.
'Abomination.'
'Filth.'
'You disgust me.'
Rahn once again turned, this time in anger. "Oro! Leave!" Rahn glared, resolving to stay where she was until the woman had left.
Completely disregarding her request, Oro walked hesitantly forward, stopping a short distance in front of her. To her great disgust, Rahn felt her heart speed up with excitement. The traitor.
"Rahn is Oro's first friend."
"Friend?!" Rahn laughed mirthlessly. She walked up to Oro, whose face was the picture of guilt. Then, she threw a hand forcefully across Oro's beautiful cheeks. "Filth!" She snarled, then slapped the woman again. "You disgust me!"
"Oro is sorry." The woman cried, tears rolling out of her eyes.
Rahn's anger abated and suddenly she felt incredibly tired despite having just woken. "Why?" She whispered. "Why did Oro lie? Why did she let Rahn chase her?"
Oro peered at her with large, pretty eyes. "Oro thought Rahn was joking."
Rahn blinked. So everything she'd said, all her hints, tease and affections had been part of a joke.. That was hard to believe. "Joking.." she laughed. "Oro.. was joking?!"
Suddenly, Oro had closed the distance between them and was hugging her. "Oro didn't know. She did not want Rahn to die. Rahn is Oro's friend." The woman sobbed. "Oro is sorry. Rahn is not an abomination.. Oro was wrong."
Feeling the woman pressed against her and hearing those words of acceptance, Rahn lost her anger and reservation. Slowly, she circled her own arms around Oro's back. No. Oro was not the one who was wrong. It was her own fault that she'd wanted to mate Oro. She couldn't blame Oro. All the fault was hers. Oro did not deserve the harsh treatment that she was being given.
"Oro.." Rahn said quietly as she returned the woman's affections. "Oro is still Rahn's friend." Oro replied by squeezing her more tightly. Rahn closed her eyes. "Please. Oro should not.. touch Rahn."
"Why?" Oro asked innocently.
"Because.." Rahn hugged the woman more tightly. To have the one she loved be so close and yet so distant hurt her more than not having her there at all. Rahn's voice went weak as she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Rahn is.." tainted, she finished in her thoughts.
Rahn pushed the woman, breaking their contact. She did not love Oro. She did not love Oro.
"Please." Rahn begged. "Go away." With that she took up her torch and left, praying that Oro wouldn't follow her again.
Despite all that had happened, despite the Great Spirit's warnings, and despite knowing the result of her crime, Rahn still wanted Oro. They were right. She was tainted, filthy.. an abomination.
As she washed herself in the cold underground river, Rahn began to feel a despair weighing on her soul. It was disgusting. It was censured by the clan. The Great Spirit himself condemned her behavior. She was mates with Tet. She should be grateful for the Spirit's benevolence.
Rahn hung her head in the half-dark of the torchlight feeling sick with self-loathing.
Suddenly, the light was extinguished and she was all alone in the dark.
She stood absolutely still. The torch had enough fuel to last twice as long as she'd needed it to. It shouldn't have gone out.
Maybe the Great Spirit was giving her a warning.
"Rahn."
Her heart did a triple flip. "Oro?"
Suddenly, she felt something sting her neck. Her vision instantly went hazy. She had to get away. Running on her instinct of flight, she managed two steps before finally falling forward and losing herself to the darkness.
Tet woke and stretched, feeling slightly hungry. He lay back down, not feeling like getting up yet. Nearby, he could hear Groc snoring away the early morning.
A flash of memory struck him. Images of the day before played hazily in his head. He grinned and looked around for her - for his mate; a feeling of love swelled in his heart.
She must've woken early, he mused as he failed to find her. He did, however, manage to see Oro walking toward the circle.
He greeted her cheerfully.
Oro smiled. "Does Tet want to know where Rahn is?"
Tet narrowed his eyes in curiosity. "Where is Rahn?"
Oro stepped away, speaking as she walked. "Come with Oro."
Tet got up to follow.
"Groc come too." declared a loud, assertive voice.
Oro stopped in place and turned to face her mate. "Groc stay. Prepare for hunt."
Groc frowned. "Groc come."
Oro gave Groc a smile. "Oro and Rahn prepared a surprise only for Tet. Groc stay."
The large man growled and stomped toward the mate who he still hadn't actually mated yet. That fact in itself angered him greatly. He wasn't about to let himself be pushed around. "Groc come!" He asserted as he took one of Oro's arms in his massive hands. He held her with as strong a grip as he could muster. "If Groc no come, Oro no leave."
Still smiling gently, Oro plucked Groc's hand off her arm. Groc's eyes widened in surprise as he struggled futilely to maintain his grip. With a roar he swung his other arm at Oro's head.
Oro ducked under his arm and before his fist could land, she'd cuffed him with a fist of her own, jarring several teeth out of place and causing him to fall to the floor. He flailed uselessly as his pretty little mate put a foot on his chest, pinning him in place.
The woman leaned in close, holding his arms down with her hands. "Groc stay." she said, licking her lips playfully.
Groc felt his loins heat up at being so close to his stunningly beautiful mate. He tested his arms, trying with all his strength to break the woman's hold. Then, giving up, he grinned. "Oro stay too. Stay and mate with Groc." He offered.
"No. Oro has surprise to show Tet."
Groc grumbled before finally assenting. "Groc give Oro permission."
Oro nodded. She released him and turned to Tet.
This was his chance! Groc shot up with a speed which belied his size and made a swipe at his woman. "No tell Groc what to do!" He shouted.
Oro turned on her feet and threw a fist into Groc's stomach. The large man immediately doubled over with a wet cough.
"Stay." Oro said gently as she sent him sliding across the floor toward his sleeping spot with a shove of her feet. Groc whimpered in pain and moved no more.
Tet could only stare as Oro turned to him cheerfully. "Tet come?"
He nodded. Oro was strong.
"Where did Oro learn to be so strong?" Tet asked as they strolled down the tunnels together.
"Oro not strong. Groc is weak."
"Groc? Weak?" He said incredulously. "Groc stronger than Tet!"
"Then Tet is weak too." Oro replied lightly.
Tet laughed. "Groc and Tet both have the Mark. We are not weak."
Oro chuckled softly in response. Silence fell between them as they continued to walk. Oro moving ahead and Tet following behind. Tet let his eyes wander from Oro's shoulders down to her shapely legs and hips.
Once again, his mind returned to a thought he'd had earlier before. He could understand why Rahn would love Oro. Oro was hard not to love. Everything about her was perfect. She was strong, stronger than even Groc. She was kind, always willing to share and able to understand those around her. It was Oro who'd helped him cope with the pain of Rahn's death before the huntress was returned to them. She was incredibly smart. Unlike Rahn, he hadn't been there to watch her progressively learn their language. He simply remembered when he'd first met her, when she was still asking to know simple words like 'cave' or 'fruit'. If he were to be honest, he'd thought her quite stupid then. Now, it was hard to imagine an Oro that didn't know how to speak. She was easily one of the most eloquent in their circle.
It was as if she'd always been one of them - a natural member of the clan of Mammoth.
Tet wasn't stupid. He knew that it was likely Rahn still wanted to mate her. It was something he couldn't help think about as she pretended to be pleased by his ministrations, as she tried to please him when they'd lain together. He knew her too well, and Rahn wasn't a very good liar anyway. It hurt him knowing that he couldn't satisfy her, that he could never satisfy her.
To his own surprise, he'd come to terms with that fact rather quickly. Having finally taken the huntress of his dreams, he couldn't find it in himself to be as disgusted as he knew he should be at her desires. She was just like him in that regard. They both desired the same form. He could understand her perfectly. The only difference between them was that she shared the very form of those she desired. How that difference made his desire acceptable and hers unacceptable was beyond him.
Despite knowing that the clan, the Shamans and even the Great Spirit himself rejected her, Tet couldn't see a reason for why they all shunned her. It didn't make sense to him at all.
He loved Rahn. He was happy to have Rahn for a mate, and he wanted Rahn to be happy too. There was only one way he could think of at that moment that would make that possible.
Tet would take Oro as a second mate.. for Rahn and for himself. Oro was very beautiful after all.
Of course, he'd have to challenge Groc. Since Groc hadn't actually mated Oro, the blessing that he'd received could still change hands.
No matter what the clan thought, Rahn had already given him what he deserved, exactly as she'd said the Great Spirit had told her to do. The Great Spirit hadn't said that he couldn't give her what she deserved too, and Rahn deserved to be happy.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that he and Oro had been moving non-stop for a good period of time now. He had no idea where he was. "Where is Oro taking us?"
"Tet not worry. Oro is not lost." Oro laughed her pretty laugh. "Trust Oro."
Tet nodded.
After wandering after Oro by torchlight, he noticed a glow further down the cavern. It was a chamber, and he could see the glow of warm fire.
They entered the room, and Tet stopped in confusion. Laying on a flat, elevated piece of stone, Rahn was bound and unconscious. He felt a sudden pain on his neck. "Oro. What-?" His vision blurred and he slumped to the floor as all light left his eyes.
With an Earth jutsu, he sealed the walls of the tunnel shut. The clan could search for however long they liked. They would never find the place.
He paused to examine his two subjects as he readied himself for what he was to do next.
First came awareness. She was awake.
She raised a hand to rub her heavy eyes and gave a cry. She couldn't move her arms?
Lifting her eyelids groggily, she noticed that she was surrounded by many torches that only illuminated a small space in what she knew was a massive cave. Outside the ring of torches, the firelight extended a short radius outward before being consumed by natural darkness. She couldn't even see the ceiling
Turning her head left to right, she saw that her wrists were been bound by a series of rope-like substance. The same was true of her ankles. She was trapped. To her side, she could see Tet in a similar situation.
"Tet!" She cried. The man stirred.
Trying to escape, Rahn pulled with all her considerable strength but to no avail. After a long moment of struggle, she lay limp, tired from her exertion and from the pain which chafed at her wrists.
"Tet, wake up! Tet!"
After many calls, the man slowly regained his consciousness and opened his eyes. "Rahn?" Noticing his bonds, Tet started struggling. "Oro!" He yelled. "Where is Oro?!"
"Oro?" Rahn looked around searchingly. Before waking here, she recalled having heard Oro's voice. Then she'd felt something sting her. Now she was here. Rahn put the dots together and looked seriously at her mate. "Did Oro bring Tet here too?"
"Yes." A third voice interceded. "Oro did bring Tet." The two struggled as they turned their eyes toward the source of the voice. From the darkness outside of the firelight, Oro stepped forward.
The two captives spoke simultaneously.
"Oro, why?"
"Let us go."
Ignoring their words, Oro moved to stand at Rahn's side. Rahn's stared up at the woman with apprehension. "What is Oro doing?"
"Rahn." The woman intoned heavily, her eyes glaring straight into Rahn's own. "Leave the Clan with Oro. Oro and Rahn will travel together."
Rahn felt her heart do a somersault. What Oro was offering was what she'd hoped would happen before Oro had kicked her away.. before she'd tried to.. to kill herself. Now she knew better. The Great Spirit had returned her to life and given her a second chance. She was mated with Tet. Even if she left with Oro, it was clear that Oro did not want her. Otherwise, the woman wouldn't have kicked her away and called her those names. "Why?"
Oro smiled. She leaned forward and gently kissed Rahn's cheeks. The huntress shivered and then, too surprised to struggle, Rahn let Oro gently place her lips on her own. Then, Oro kissed her chin, her ear, the side of her neck and further down, every touch leaving a tingle on her skin.
And then it stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun. Oro's touch was exactly what she'd wanted for the past months.. it was exactly what she'd needed, and it was hardly enough.
"Come with Oro."
"No!" Tet yelled. "Tet will challenge Groc and take Oro as second mate! Then Rahn and Oro can.. can.." He stopped, unable to finish his sentence. The man struggled against his bonds once more, crying as he failed to break them. "Rahn.. don't leave Tet. Please."
"Rahn will not leave Tet." Rahn replied with as much assurance as she could muster. "The Great Spirit won't allow it. Rahn will obey the Great Spirit and give Tet what he deserves. Tet is a man. Tet should not cry."
Through his tears, Tet smiled. His mate's words putting his heart at ease. He turned his attention to their captor. "Oro. Let us go. Tet will take Oro to be second mate. The Great Spirit says Rahn needs to give Tet what he deserves.. Tet deserves a happy Rahn. Oro can make Rahn more happy than Tet can."
Orochimaru laughed. It seems the primitive people hadn't regressed as far as he'd thought. At least they still knew how to put together a coherent and convincing plea. "If Tet will fight for blessing, then Oro will stay."
Slowly, he untied the ropes that held the girl in place. "Rahn." He said. "Let Tet free. Oro needs to collect torches."
Rahn nodded and stepped gingerly down from the stone table on which she'd been bound.
Tet felt a wave of joy and relief overwhelm him as he watched his huntress approach him. Rahn had chosen to stay. She'd chosen to stay with him. At that moment, the hunter couldn't have loved his huntress more. He'd do anything for her. He was willing to defy the clan and even the Great Spirit himself if necessary. More than anything, Rahn deserved to be happy.
Nothing could have prepared him for the spear which suddenly protruded from her belly.
Rahn stared wide-eyed down at the pole jutting out of her midriff.
"RAHN!" Tet screamed as Oro dislodged the spear from Rahn's body. The huntress stumbled forward with a cry of pain.
Orochimaru cackled as Rahn held her hands over the bleeding hole in her belly with a gasp of agony. Realizing what was happening, Rahn staggered desperately toward Tet. She needed to free him. It was the only way they could stand a chance.
Amused at her efforts, Orochimaru closed the short distance that Rahn had created between them and stabbed her again, pushing the spear through her abdomen.
Rahn coughed, blood pooling in her mouth. She fell to the ground, unable to stay on her feet any longer. Panicking, she crawled forward. She didn't want to die again. Not now. Tet would be left alone and she would have failed to fulfill the task left to her by the Great Spirit. She needed to save him, before-
Orochimaru raised his spear and brought it piercing into the girl's back, pinning her in place. Rahn made a guttural sound in the back of her throat, all thoughts jarred loose by an influx of increasing pain.
"Oro!" Tet struggled more furiously than he ever did before. The skin on his wrists rubbed themselves raw against its bindings. He couldn't stand it any longer. Rahn was hurt. Why couldn't Oro see that? Why was Oro hurting Rahn? "STOP!" he begged. "Please!" Tears filtered out of his eyes and he sobbed. "Rahn is hurt."
The woman laughed and twisted her spear, churning Rahn's insides with the stone weapon. Rahn squealed in pain as she clawed desperately against the cavern floor, and Oro's grin widened. "Just like pig."
Tet roared. His vision went red as Oro plunged the spear into his beloved huntress, stabbing her again and again and again and again.. even as Rahn tried to crawl away, even when she stopped moving, even when his mate lay still in a pool of her own blood. Oro didn't stop. The woman continued to skewer Rahn's body, laughing gleefully at her target as she mutilated the corpse with her spear.
Tet cried. He cried harder than he'd ever cried in his life. There was nothing he could do. His wrists bled against his bonds but remained bound in place. It angered him to feel so useless, so utterly trapped as he watched his mate die a terrible, senseless death. "Oro.." He growled with murderous rage. "Why?!"
Orochimaru tittered softly. "Oro likes watching Rahn die. It makes Oro happy." He kicked Rahn's bloodied corpse to the side. "Even better than Rahn's first death."
Tet shrieked, his throat going raw as he tore at his vocal chords in a sheer, unadulterated mixture of rage and emotional agony. He'd never wanted to kill another before. Not even when he had been considering the challenge he was going to make to Groc. He hadn't desired Groc's death in and of itself. He'd simply wanted the blessing for Oro.
But now.. he wanted to see Oro dead. He wanted to stab her the way she'd stabbed Rahn. He wanted to see the woman scream in pain as he kicked her the way she'd kicked his beloved mate. His Rahn. Dead. The pain of the loss shattered him. Rahn was dead. The Great Spirit would not be so generous as to give her a third chance. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It hurt him more than it had the first time he'd seen Rahn die. More than the pain, however, was his hatred of the dark-haired beauty. Of Oro. He hated Oro. He hated Oro more than he'd hated anything in his life.
Oro walked up to him and, as she'd done with Rahn, the woman leaned forward, her face hovering over his own. "Tet has nice eyes."
As he stared into the kaleidoscopic wheel of the Mangekyo Sharingan, Orochimaru couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. His patience had paid off. The man, unaware of his newfound optical abilities, was simply seething with hatred and pain.
He observed with interest as his own body caught fire. The dark flames of the Amaterasu enveloped him from head to toe, a result of Tet's will no doubt. Shedding his skin, he cast Oro's body aside, letting it burn a safe distance away from him. Then, with quick movements, he tore both Sharingan from Tet's face.
With his Byakugan, he'd seen the Chakra pathways and the timing of their activation from the brain to the eyes in Tet's head. With that data, he was fairly sure he could now duplicate an artificial triggering of his own Mangekyo Sharingan. Of course, those eyes wouldn't last forever. Uchiha Itachi, who had slowly gone blind after many uses of his optical abilities, was a prime example of that fact.
It was an easy fix. He merely needed to incorporate another set of Mangekyo Sharingan, adding it into his own pair to create the Eternal variant of the Uchiha's eyes.
Orochimaru ignored Tet's cries of anguish, created a jar of preservative liquid, and placed the man's eyes inside. He was tired of speaking their language. It was severely underdeveloped and somehow, he felt dumber every time he spoke. Even if that weren't strictly true, the fact remained that the primitive language did not appeal to him, neither did the unclean habits and customs of the people who spoke it.
He paused for a moment to examine both Rahn's mutilated body and Tet's bleeding face. Maybe he'd give them another chance at life. Tet he could easily heal. Rahn, on the other hand, would require a new synthetic body and another Impure World Resurrection. She would thus require another sacrifice. Orochimaru licked his lips. It shouldn't be any trouble. Despite the Ice Age, the world was still teeming with living humans.
That the synthetic bodies he made for them did not age was a bonus. It would be his parting present to the two for being such wonderful subjects. Who knows? They might even discover how to use the Chakra that now circulated within their bodies. If they died, it would be of unnatural causes. Not his fault.
Primitive people were abominably filthy and quite honestly, they disgusted him. After he finished implanting the Eternal Mangekyou into his eyes, he would travel a bit. Hopefully, somewhere around the world, there still existed some semblance of the old civilization. Orochimaru rolled the wooden spear under the soles of his feet, and he allowed himself a dry smirk at the thought. The clattering sounds of the low-grade wood material were almost drowned out by the sorrowful moans that rent the cavern space.
He wouldn't count on it.