Miroku came back to the present, hearing the tension in Izumi's voice, "What do you mean, you want to keep it?"
"That will be my payment. I will remove the Dweller from this human male's hand, and in payment, I get to keep it."
"Why would you want it?"
"As I have just said, I am the most knowledgable of such creatures. Yet I have never been able to actually study one, a live one."
"Where would you keep it?" Mikado asked, crossing her arms, "Or do you have a pocket Void around here somewhere?"
"That is none of your concern. Suffice to say, I have sufficient means to keep it alive and healthy."
Izumi looked at Miroku, and spoke, "Well, that would be up to Miroku, really."
They all turned to look at him.
"I...ah..."
"One moment, please," Izumi said, and crossed to where the monk stood. She leaned towards him, speaking in a soft low voice. It occured to Miroku that if Retorares wanted to, he could just listen in, so why even bother trying to keep anything a secret.
"Miroku, are you well?" Izumi asked, concern in her voice, "You look...a bit sickly."
"In truth, I feel a bit sickly, Lady Izumi."
"Feverish? A little dizzy?"
"Yes."
She nodded, looking unhappy, "I was worried about this. Some people who are...sensitive to certain things often feel ill in the presence of an Illithid. We'll try to finish this as quickly as possible. Are you ok with letting Retorares have the Void Dweller?"
"No, to be blunt," Miroku said lowly, "But I don't see as I have any other option. Besides, I can't see how he could do much damage with it...he cannot release it outside any void."
"Very true. Alright then, dear."
She turned, looking back at the Illithid, and nodded, "We are ready."
"Excellent. Allow me to prepare what I will need."
The Illithid turned and walked from the room. Mikado walked over to the monk and the other woman. She frowned at him, "You alright, Miroku?"
He wiped a faint sheen of sweat from his forhead, "Yes."
"He's becoming ill from Retorare's aura."
"Aww," Mikado lightly rubbed Miroku's shoulder, "Not much longer now, I think, and then we can all go home."
Beneath his robes, Kirara purred support.
A short while later, Retorares returned, carrying odd-looking items and things in a large box. To Miroku, it looked like the Illithid shouldn't have been able to even pick the box up, much less carry it. Retorares moved to a table, and placed the box there. It turned, regarding it's visitors with those flat eyes.
"Now then. We can begin."
"Will we just do it here?" Izumi asked.
"I believe that will be most comfortable for the male," Retorares said, "He would most likely not wish to enter my laboratory."
"Likely not," Izumi murmured, and turned to the monk, "Sit down, then, Miroku, and get comfortable."
Miroku did, and sat in the nearest chair, "What, exactly, is he going to do? Is there anything I need to prepare for?"
"I will extract the Void Dweller from your hand using something I created just for this very opprotunity," the Illithid said, "You need not prepare."
The Illithid took out what looked like a long glass tube that was attached to a strange-looking green globe at one end, and a cone-shaped flange at the other. Had Kagome been there, she would have thought it looked like something seen in a high school chemistry lab.
"Now then", Retorares moved towards Miroku holding the device, "I shall simply place this over the Void in your hand, and it will remove the Dweller within, capturing it in the trap at the bottom." He motioned to the strange green globe at the bottom.
"I don't think you understand," Miroku said, "Once I open the Void in my hand, everything will be sucked in. That thing, you, anything it's pointed at. It's uncontrollable."
"And yet your prayer beads keep it quiet."
"Well, yes, but..."
"Think, then, of this as a prayer bead of another type. You must trust me, it will be contained."
Trust you? Miroku thought.
"Yes, trust me. If nothing else, know I am in no hurry to risk myself nor my home."
Miroku flushed, feeling embarassed. How strange to have someone know all your thoughts, as if you were speaking them aloud.
"Yes, of course."
He held out his hand, cloth gauntlet in place, and took ahold of the prayer beads in his other hand. He eyed the Illithid.
"I am ready," Retorares said, and moved the contraption over the hand, a mere few inches above the monk's hand.
Well, here goes nothing, Miroku thought, and undid the prayer beads.
The Void in his hand suddenly roared into life...
And was neatly silenced when the funnel was sucked down over his palm, making a perfect seal.
Miroku blinked.
"Ah, wonderful. Now then, we need only wait. Most likely it will not take too long for the Dweller to realize something is happening, and will approach. Once that happens, it will be removed and trapped."
Everyone huddled around the monk's hand, the strange device looking as if it were merely balanced on the open palm.
After a short time, Mikado spoke, "I think I see something!"
Miroku, feeling queasy, turned his head away. He truly did not want to see that eye glaring out of his hand again.
"Ah...I should probably have mentioned before," Retorares said, in that sickly, oily voice, "But the removal of the Dweller is likely to be rather...ah...uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable?" Izumi asked, her voice tense.
"Painful, actually."
Agony suddenly tore through Miroku's hand, and he hollared, his good hand instinctively reaching for the other.
"Do not!" Retorares commanded, and grabbed the monk's good wrist in his three-fingered grasp.
Even in the midst of the pain that was tearing through his hand, Miroku was aware of the cold, clammy skin of the Illithid's hand as it was clamped around his wrist. It seemed terribly strong, clearly at odds with the frail appearance.
"What's going on?" Mikado demanded, "What's happening, Flayer?"
"The Dweller resists," Retorares said, still holding Miroku's wrist in a vice-like grasp, "If we stop now it will return to the Void in his hand, and will not approach again. This is our only chance to remove it."
Gritting his teeth, Miroku nodded. He still refused to look at whatever was happenning with his hand, only hoping and praying it would be over soon. His hand felt like it was going to be torn in two.
The pain continued to build, and Miroku howled with the agony of it.
"Just a few more seconds, Miroku!" he heard Izumi call to him.
Easy for you to say, he thought frantically.
There was a sudden, horrifying pulse in his hand - the monk actually felt the thing brush up against the sides of the hole in his hand - and then the pain was blissfully gone. His hand felt cold, and strangely lighter.
"Re-seal your Void, monk," Retorares said, letting go of Miroku's other wrist, "It is done."
As the Illithid removed the strange contraption, Miroku grasped the prayer beads and re-wrapped his hand with them. He shook, and felt weak, ill. The Void died down to a whisper.
A sheen of sweat on his face, Miroku looked at Izumi and Mikado, "Did it come out?"
"Yes dear," Izumi said softly, "It came out. I saw it with my own eyes. You're free of it."
"Thank the Gods," he said weakly, wiping his forehead with a sleeve.
Retorares held up the strange contraption, peering into the green globe at the bottom. In the low light of the house, they could just make out a blackness gathered there, moving about slightly, as if the Illithid held a vial of ink.
"Rest a while," Retorares said, "I will take this away from your sight. If you wish, I can have refreshments brought to you."
"That won't be necessary," Izumi said firmly, "Once Miroku is feeling better, we'll be on our way."
"As you wish."
The Illithid turned, and walked from the room, carrying the Void Dweller with him.
"Did it really come out?" Miroku asked, "I didn't want to see, I had my face averted."
"It truly did," Mikado said, smiling, "You're free of it. Try to relax a little, get your breath back."
Miroku nodded, "I apologise for all this trouble."
"Oh get over it," Mikado said, grinning, "You hardly ask for anything, and this was more than a splinter or anything."
Miroku smiled his thanks.
The two ladies turned, and began discussing their next move. The monk listened in for a while, but they began talking about the battle that had been fought on the Celestial Plane, and he found it more and more difficult to follow them.
He turned to sit on the nearby chair, and caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Miroku turned, and saw the young man dissapearing down a hallway.
The monk watched the young man walk slowly down the hallway and enter a doorway, carrying a tray or something similar in his hand.
Again, he was struck by how much the young man reminded him of Kohaku, and with a backwards glance at the two women talking to each other, he quietly slipped down the hallway, following in the boy's footsteps.
The doorway he walked through led into a strange room. To the monk's eyes, there were strange lights and contraptions lying on tables and benches. Bottles of odd-colored liquids bubbled over candles, simmering weakly. There were items Miroku literally had no name for, and couldn't possibly guess what they were used for.
The boy placed the tray holding another strange-looking item on the bench, and tured to walk past him. Miroku reached out, and gently took ahold of the boy's sleeve.
The boy stopped, but didn't look at him, just stood there, silent, still. Like a statue.
With a grieved sigh, Miroku dropped his hand. The boy walked past him, back out into the hallway, and was gone.
He is not Kohaku, Miroku thought, And I cannot intervene in this world. As Lady Izumi and Mikado said, there are warriors here who battle this. This is not my fight.
"Interested in my studies?" came a voice behind him.
Miroku spun to see Retorares stepping into the room, bowing slight to pass under the doorframe. His long hands were tucked into the opposite sleeve, his flat black eyes turned onto the monk.
Miroku's defenses rose up, and he backed up a step, wary, "Forgive me, I should not have ventured in here, a guest in your home. I will ret-"
"No need," Retorares said, sweeping past him to stand before one of the benches, "As a holy man, I do think I need fear you will steal anything here."
"Regardless, I should not have come here."
Miroku made a short bow, and turned to leave.
"And how goes the war in your world?"
The monk paused, and turned back, "You know of it?"
Retorares turned, remaining where he was, regarding Miroku. He made a nodding motion, "Many Wanderers speak of it to me. You are not the only one concerned about such things."
"Wanderers?"
"Such as the ladies in my visiting room. Those who can travel from one plane to another. Izumi and Mikado are not the only Wanderers I have met."
"Forgive me, but why would you be concerned about what happens in my world?"
Retorares pushed off from the bench and approached him, hands still folded into his sleeves, "Surely you do not think your plane of existance is the only one at risk? Your plane of existance may be at the very center of placement, the Plane of Twilight, as it were, but it is not the only one in jeopardy. If your plane falls, the army will move onto the next, and then the next. There are many eyes watching what happens, monk."
"Yes, I suppose so," Miroku said lowly, gazing down at his hands, "I had not really thought about it in that manner."
Retorares stood before him, "Armies are gathering. Do not be surprised if you hear of others approaching you, others from other Planes of Existance, who will enter your plane, to offer aid."
Miroku looked up at the Illithid, and suddenly three things happened in quick succession.
One, Miroku realized that neither he nor Lady Izumi nor Mikado had ever told the Mind-Flayer he was a holy man, a monk.
The second was that Retorares was suddenly very, very close.
On the very heels of that, he heard Lady Izumi's voice from the visiting room, now suddenly so very far away, call his name, "MIROKU!?"
Fear swamped through him, a sudden, shockingly strong fear, and he took a step back, clasping his Staff in both his hands.
The Illithid took a step forward, one hand reaching out towards him. Whether to grasp to attack, or to catch him should be fall, Miroku didn't know, but his body was screaming to defend himself, regardless.
He raised his Staff in both hands, getting ready to swing it, or raise it in defense of himself.
There was a sudden crack that seemed to echo inside his head, a sudden, shocking, painful burst.
And then there was nothing.
Lady Izumi and Mikado ran into the room just in time to see Miroku slowly sink to his knees, Staff held loosely in his hands, eyes dull and unfocused, unseeing.
"Miroku!"
Mikado lunged forward, reaching for her sais, uttering an un-ladylike curse.
But everyone had forgotten about the fourth being in the room.
Kirara burst from inside the monk's robes, landing before him. Before her feet hit the ground, she had morphed, flames licking along the stone ceiling, a thunderous roar shaking the stone walls and floor. Mikado literally felt the vibration in her feet.
A savage snarl, and Kirara lunged.
Retorares fell over backwards onto his ass, flat eyes wide in shock, and he began to crawl backwards, crab-scutting away from the teeth that flashed before him.
Izumi ran to Miroku, falling onto her knees, and grabbing his shoulders. She shook him violently, calling his name.
Unseeing, staring straight ahead, eyes glazed and unfocused, the monk's lips moved; speaking. His words were lost in the snarls of the feline demon as she closed in on her prey.
Izumi turned to say something to Mikado, when a mental burst struck her in the head, and she swayed, feeling the room seem to lurch sideways.
There was another mental burst, then a savagely painful burst that struck her hard, and she literally fell over onto her side, clutching at her head.
For a few seconds, Izumi heard nothing. Her ears were ringing, and she felt sickly, weak. She watched her hands scrabble at the stone floor before her, before she was able to gather herself, and pushed herself upwards.
Dazed, she looked around.
Mikado was just pushing herself up off the floor as well, a similar dazed look on her face as well. She brushed at her face as if trying to brush away dirt, although there was nothing on her face.
Kirara turned, growling, and looked back at the two women, her chest fur coated in a strange-looking black ichor. Her mouth was likewise stained, and when she raised her head and roared again, even her teeth were stained.
Izumi dropped her gaze to the floor before the feline, but she looked away quickly.
What was left of the Illithid was not pretty to look at.
Weakly, she crawled over to Miroku, who was weakly rubbing his face, one hand clutching the Staff where it lay on the floor.
"Miroku?"
"Mmf. Nnnnnn. La...Lady Izumi? What...happened?"
"Are you alright, dear? Look at me."
Dropping his hand, the monk looked over at Izumi. After looking into his eyes for a second, she nodded.
"Woozy, but I think you'll be ok. Oh thank goodness."
Izumi laid a hand on her chest, letting out a breath of relieved air.
Then she scowled at him, "What on earth do you think you were doing?! Walking off alone in an Illithid's house?!"
"Izumi, leave him be, he's still weak." Her voice hardened slightly, "Though you're damned lucky he apparently onlyl hit you with a light attack, Miroku. If he had really let loose on you..."
Miroku shuddered, and for a moment thought he was going to vomit. But it passed.
"Yes, forgive me, I was foolish. I saw the boy, and I thought..." he sighed, rubbing his face again.
"Are you certain you're ok?"
"A slight headache, that's all. What...happened to Retorares?"
"Well..." Mikado smiled, "Apparently Kirara took offense to whatever he did to you, and attacked."
The monk's view was blocked out by a massive feline head, a rumbling purr as Kirara sniffed him, and attempted to gently head-butt Miroku.
The monk smiled, and patted her head, "That's a second time you have saved me, Kirara. Thank you. And remind me to thank Sango for insisting you come."
He frowned, then turned to Izumi, "Didn't he strike her as well?"
Izumi smiled slightly, "No. All Illithid have fears. They differ from creature to creature. Apparently, Retorares had a fear of cats. And let's be honest...a giant flaming cat suddenly appearing before you will certainly catch one off guard."
Miroku scratched behind Kirara's ears, "But why didn't he attack her, then, as he did me?"
"Well, that's the thing," Mikado grinned, "Illithid can't read a cat's mind, so they can't really prepare for anything. Plus, it's extremely hard to get into a cat's mind, so it takes a while to be able to do anything against them.
After all, who really knows the mind of a cat?"
Kirara rumbled agreement.
They slowly stood up, wobbling slightly on weak legs.
"We must find that boy," Miroku said, "And bring him with us. There are some shrines I know of, where the priests will be willing to take him in."
Izumi spoke gently, "I'm sorry, Miroku. Once Retorares died, his life is forfeit."
Miroku turned, shocked, "What do you mean?"
Izumi regarded him sadly, "No one knows why, but when an Illithid makes a slave, when the Illithid dies, so too does the slave. They simply...sit down and die."
"That..." Miroku felt a strange sense of grief well up inside him; grief and a sense of unfairness. He was somewhat surprised it struck him so strongly. He was a man, afterall, and understood how the world worked. Life was unfair. It was a basic truth. But still...
"I cannot just leave," Miroku said to her, grasping his Staff in both hands, as if for emotional support, "If there's a chance he..."
"I understand, dear," Izumi said, lightly patting him on the shoulder.
"Mikado, Kirara dear, if the two of you will see to Miroku, help him outside, I'll go and make sure there's nothing we can do for the boy."
"Thank you, Lady."
It was only a short time after they gathered outside, Mikado and Miroku sitting up on Kirara, before Izumi joined them outside. She looked quiet and pale. Looking up, she met the monk's eyes, and shook her head.
Miroku looked away.
"I have, however, set a fire," Izumi said, as Mikado pulled her up behind Kirara, "In his lab. If another Illithid arrives, it will find nothing it can use. It will have to start anew."
"Thank you," Miroku said quietly.
The trip back went faster. Kirara, now glad to be in her larger form, carried them back along the path at a quick pace, only shrinking down when the tunnel path narrowed to the point she could only get through in kitten-form.
It was none too soon before they were able to travel back to their own plane. Just seeing the sunshine above them lifted the monk's spirits a little, and he took a deep breath of the fresh air.
"Are you certain you're ok, dear?" Izumi asked, as they began to walk back towards their village.
"I'll be better with rest," he answered, honestly. He glanced at her, "You said you wished to talk to me, Lady Izumi?"
"Oh, not now, dear. You should rest first. I think some sleep will do you good."
"Miroku?"
They looked ahead to see his friends standing just outside the village. InuYasha was carrying two buckets of water, and Kagome a large basket of what he assumed were herbs. Sango carried several rabbits on a brace.
They waited while Izumi, Mikado, Kirara, and Miroku walked up to them. Izumi smiled to see how closely they watched the monk, how intently they searched his face.
"Miroku, are you alright?" Sango asked, walking over to him, "You're so pale!"
"I...had a bit of an adventure," Miroku said, smiling charmingly, "But it's over now, and all is fine. Do you need any he-"
"All is not fine," Izumi said, sternly, "Miroku is to rest. As he said, he had an adventure, and he's tired."
"Is he ok?" InuYasha asked, stepping forward, looking closely at the monk, "He's pale. And his scent is off, too."
"I knew I should have come," Sango said firmly, looking at Mikado a little crossly, "I could have helped."
"He had Kirara," Kagome said gently, trying to soothe Sango.
"Yes, I know," Sango said, "But he should have had someone else, too."
"Izumi said he just needs rest," InuYasha said, "And he smells tired. Calm down."
"Yes, but that-s'
"Could you all please stop talking about me as if I'm not here?" Miroku interrupted, soundly oddly testly, "And InuYasha, please stop sniffing me!"
Silence.
Miroku looked at their faces, and suddenly laughed. He rubbed his face.
"Yes. I'm tired. Forgive me. I'm fine, perfectly fine, but tired."
"Well...come on, then," the hanyou replied, "We got everything for supper, you can sit down and rest."
"That's sounds good," Miroku smiled, and fell into step with them.
Suddenly, Sango spoke, "Ugh! Kirara, why do you smell like that!?"
"Ah yes...well...that's part of the adventure..."
Izumi and Mikado hung back for a second, watching as the four young adults walked together, talking. It was not lost on them how Miroku's voice seemed to have strengthened when he was in their presence, as if he were drawing energy and strength straight from them.
They looked at each other, smiled, and began to follow them back towards the village.
END
