Chapter #2

Bankotsu saw the steely shades of dawn when he stepped outside. The sky was painted in silvery hues of blues and yellows, the sun barely rising in the horizon. The necromancer Yosei was by the porch of their forest cabin. She sat still and hooded under those dirty, blue robes of hers, like an ethereal apparition, ready to be whisked away at the slightest disturbance.

He knew they were connected somehow, and so she was also able to sense his presence the moment he stepped out. "I never imagined a corpse could sleep as much as you have." Her voice was thick and throaty, as if she wasn't very much used to using it.

His upper lip twitched in annoyance. "I do what I want. What's the rush? I'm a dead thrall, remember?"

"A cheeky, dead thrall."

Bankotsu sensed that she was about to start again with one of her I'm your Mistress! rants, so he quickly added in, "I'm ready to leave, my most precious Mistress!"

"Yosei," Yosei's mossy greens rolled before she disappeared around to the back of the cabin.

Earlier he had wondered if this was her home, but the place was too empty to be any proper type of dwelling. Besides her necromancy instruments down in the basement, there was hardly a sleeping futon inside. It lacked food, water, to the point that Bankotsu wondered if she was also dead and did not require the basic needs of a human. Of course, that was when he learned that Yosei wasn't human, nor was she demon. She was a sort of magical entity that used her powers to resurrected unfortunate souls, much like himself. The man he was supposed to protect her from, The Man of Many Faces, was also a being like her.

Yosei emerged from the back of the cabin accompanied by a confusing creature that made him recoil in surprise. She tugged on the reigns of a monster with the body of a massive horse, the legs, talons, and head of an eagle, and two massive leathery wings, like that of a dragon. The creature screeched and reigned back at the sight of him. Bankotsu, too, took a step back. "What in the devil's hell is that?" He felt foolish for being frightened of it, after all he was just a thrall, a dead thrall, but how the hell else was he supposed to react to this?

"This is Storm. He is also a thrall."

"What kind of god-forsaken creature is he supposed to be?" Eventually Bankotsu approached them. It had a pair of golden eyes that dilated and detailed him in suspicion, as if it were contemplating on whether or not to attack him.

"He is unlike any other. I pieced him together from a mountain horse, a great demon eagle, and a wyvern." Bankotsu was impressed. She was certainly creative. A mount like this would be a formidable opponent to anyone that threatened her safety, if she ever needed protection.

"You are quite paranoid," Bankotsu whistled as he watched her mount the creature named Storm.

"I have enemies, and I am too weak to be of any match against them. All I have is my necromancy." His eyes matched the intensity of hers. He wondered what dangers his association with her would bring him. Perhaps this task was just as dangerous—or exciting!—as the one he had when he worked for Naraku. "So, is the great leader of the Band of Seven scared of a mere chimera?"

"Are you fucking stupid? I would be retarded if I weren't at least concerned about it. I mean, look at it! It looks like death."

Storm reigned back and leered at Bankotsu in response.

"Yeah, yeah, and you have been there and back so come on, you're boring me."

"As you wish, my most precious bitch Mistress," Bankotsu, too, leered at her as he climbed up behind her. "You know, I'm useless without my companion," he purred on her ear after Storm took them up to the skies, very well knowing that his proximity was bound to make her uncomfortable.

She wiggled, probably getting the chills, and told him, "Don't even dream it. That demon sword of yours was destroyed."

"What?" His outburst made Storm falter uneasily underneath them.

"Don't scream in my ear!" She smacked his hand, which was wrapped around her waist for support.

This time, more seriously, Bankotsu asked, "What happened to my Banryu?"

"It was destroyed, ok? I don't know how nor care to find out. All I know is that it doesn't exist anymore. Trust me; I tried to acquire it before I resurrected you."

"I'm useless without it." Bankotsu said lamely, slowly letting the news about his Companion sink in.

She tsk'ed. "Nonsense, we'll find you a new weapon." Yosei pointed at the rising sun over the mountain ahead, "The valley ahead is littered with small human villages; we'll surely find one that has a blacksmith that can recommend us some alternatives."

Her suggestion made his blood boil. In a sudden flash of anger, the hand that had wrapped around her waist shot up to grapple at her neck. "Are you suggesting that I make due with a simple, human sword?"

Storm's flight faltered, surely synchronizing Yosei's unease. "Bankotsu, stop it—"

"I am beyond human. Do not insult my capabilities," his whispered words were venomous.

"Bankotsu!" She gasped, and at once he realized he was biting off the hand that fed him, so he finally released her.

She breathed, frantically massaging her neck. "You're mad!"

He huffed, "Give me a break. I am a hardened killer. What, did you expect me to be a cuddle bunny ready to massage your feet and cradle you when your Man of Many Faces comes after you?"

"No! I get it! You're a sociopath with a complete disregard for other people's lives, but you will respect me."

There was a moment of excruciating silence in which Bankotsu pondered actually jumping off the flying chimera. He supposed he shouldn't be attacking her, but the girl was nothing short of irritating. "Fine. Whatever."

"I don't expect you to use a human weapon, but we have to start our search somewhere. I'm not a warrior, so I don't particularly have a list of demon smiths at my disposal."

"I apologize." He crossed his arms, his eyes on anywhere but the back of her.

Storm flew them over to the green mountainside for less than an hour, an awkward silence settling between them. Upon her command, the thrall began to make its decent at the outskirts of the first village they encountered. And so, after circling the skies once or twice, Storm landed them within the underbrush at the western outskirts of the village, which was now bustling with the day to day tasks of its earlier risers.

"How can you be so sure we'll find a smith here?" He had asked her as they dismounted, and she had simply told him, "Humans never fail to surprise me."

They were a conspicuous pair, he knew; Yosei with her hooded, grimy face, and Bankotsu with his dirty armor and stink of mud and death. The villagers stopped about their business to watch them pass, their pails and scythes and rice bags hanging limply from their hands as they gapped and goggled at them. "The inn is a great place to get information," she had said, striking him as incredibly naïve and stupid. Their only solace, he knew, was that they at least looked human.

"Hold it right there!" Someone bellowed from behind just as they were merely steps away from the local inn. Two armored men rounded on them in a second, probably from the village militia. They carried lances made out of wood and iron that Bankotsu was sure he could snap in a heartbeat. "What business brings you to our peaceful settlement?"

Oh we're just honeymooners on a tryst, Bankotsu felt like saying, just to mess with them. Instead, Yosei brusquely answered with another question, "Where is your smith?"

"Let the man speak, you insolent tramp," One said while the other made to pull down her hood. Bankotsu grasped the warrior's wrist before it could come close to her face, stopping him at once.

"Unhand me!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, will ya?" Bankotsu nearly laughed in derision when the other one pointed the sharp end of his lance at him.

Soon enough the two soldiers were joined by three more, but before a scuffle could break out, the sound of a terrible horn erupted from the eastern edges of the village. Battle cries and shouts followed, and suddenly the village was enveloped in a great panic.

"What in the devil's hell is going on?" Yosei grumbled beside him.

Bankotsu squinted in the direction of the ruckus but was blinded by the rising sun. It was the screams of agonizing pain and the clashing sounds of steel on steel that gave clue to the massacre that was ensuing. "Bandits," he announced.

He didn't have to wait for Yosei's command; Bankotsu rushed forward, his innards awakening with the sounds of the carnage ahead. He itched for a good fight. He drowned out Yosei's protests behind him—something about her not being sure how much life energy he had a his disposal—and picked up the first steel spear he encountered.

Bankotsu joined the carnage in earnest. The small village militia was no match for the bigger number of outlaws who used the rising sun to shroud themselves in blinding sunlight. He slashed one bandit and parried another, warm blood splattering his face and garments. The spear vibrated in his hands as he blocked and impaled. Five to one they ganged up on him, but this was nothing compared to what Bankotsu could handle. Still, more and more emerged from the bushes outside the village.

Eventually Bankotsu's spear snapped in two, forcing him to use his fists instead. It was when they were overwhelming him that Bankotsu felt a foreign, different sort of sensation inside him. It was worry, concern, terror, yet he knew this wasn't something coming from within him. His adrenaline was on overdrive, pumping hard on his dead veins, to be worrying about trifling things like concern and terror. It was then that a realization dawned on him. Bankotsu whipped around—wincing when the tip of a bandit's spear cut through his side—and met Yosei's eyes. She had a terrified expression plastered on her grimy face. He was synchronizing her emotions, and she was terrified for his life.

He wanted to tell her to chill the fuck out, but at that moment she began twirling her hands, creating that wispy energy he had seen just the night before. Yosei split the wispy, crimson ball into smaller versions of itself and shot them forward at the dead bodies that littered the space around him. The corpses came to life much like he had done and began aiding him and the villagers upon her command.

The morning was filled with the dying cries of bandits and villagers alike. Some of the homes to the eastern border had been put to the torch, while the women, the sickly, and the children had been herded in to the inn, which, due to Bankotsu's efforts, was the only building spared from the bandit's destruction. And it was during his last few battles that Bankotsu began experiencing exhaustion unlike anything he had felt before. He glanced at Yosei, wondering if he was just synchronizing how she felt, but she looked to be fine.

Bankotsu stopped to watch the carnage before him, his breathing labored. A dying outlaw went at him with an axe, but Yosei swiftly directed a mindless thrall to take the hit for him. His vision blurred; all he wanted was to give in to the crushing weight over him. Yosei approached him angrily. "What is the matter with you? Fight!" She yelled.

He wanted to sass something back, but lacked the energy to do so.

"I know you're dead, but your body matters, you ungrateful, heartless prick! I toiled for seven days and seven nights to remake you!" She went on again.

"Ohjust shut up," he told her before doubling over and propelling bouts of red fluid (blood?) out of his mouth. She screamed—a high-pitched, little girl sort of scream—which made him chuckle in sick amusement in-between the bouts of red puke that flowed out of his mouth.

"What the fuck? Bankotsu? Get up!"

He had fallen on the ground, the puke and the blood and the dirt and the bandits' remains getting on his braid and clothes, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Yosei's rounded, mossy green eyes, and all he could think was what a terrible necromancer she had been, after all.


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