Chapter #3
Even after the battle was won, the humans had the nerve to kick her out of their village. "You brought this upon us, you witch! You came with your curse and now we've lost everyone!" Yosei was used to being called a witch, as she was used to being called a curse; she was deemed a curse from the moment she was born—this was not new to her. It wasn't the ignorant name-calling that infuriated her. What pissed her off the most was that they were too blind to recognize that she had saved them.
Yosei did not bring the bandits, nor did she have any grievance against the village. The whole ordeal happened because she and Bankotsu came at the exact moment as the band of outlaws. They were passersby, passersby who happened to save the villagers' lives. If anything, the humans should be grateful.
They still kicked her out. The few villagers with any will or energy left in them came at her with their not-so-threatening wooden spears and their all-too-accusing glares and hollered at her to get out. And Yosei would have complied much faster, but alas, she had Bankotsu, limp and unconscious, to think about.
Thankfully for her, Storm sensed her predicament and came to her rescue.
Yosei glared back at the few villagers watching from the sidelines while Storm dug Bankotsu out from the pile of dead bodies. "Imbeciles. You think I brought the bandits upon you?" If it made no matter whether she was innocent or not, why not give them a real curse? She pulled out the small bag that hung from a golden chain around her neck and fingered its contents. The bag contained a mix of dirt and ashes that worked as a medium to her magic. "If a curse is what you think I brought, a curse is what you shall get."
She tossed a pinch of the dust, which was blown and scattered by the soft, morning breeze, and whispered, "Devils, be unleashed, and let not a single soul be at peace."
The wind whispered around her, the demons that prowled the underworld awakening at her command. Half of her felt rotten for cursing the poor villagers, but her pride soon overcame her guilt. The same always happened anytime she tried to be a heroine. Humans would blame and chastise her for their shortcomings, never considering that for once she might be the good guy in the story.
Yosei whirled around and mounted Storm after Bankotsu's limp body was safely secured on the saddle, and off into the skies they went.
They flew for a day to Old Takako's hut. Bankotsu's problem was one Yosei couldn't ignore for long. Something about the way she resurrected him failed them. Mayhap her magic was not strong enough for a thrall like him, or mayhap he wished to seize existing. Either way, right now she didn't have the power to find out, but knew Old Takako would have the answers. I need Bankotsu—or someone like him—or else He might…
Old Takako's hut was safely hidden in a haunted grove that teemed with demons as old as the earth itself. Yosei knocked hard on the gnarled door while Storm shook Bankotsu off as if he were a pesky bug. Yosei coughed a giggle when Bankotsu's body hit the ground, landing in an awkward, twisted position.
The door opened by itself, so Yosei dragged Bankotsu's body inside with some difficulty. As usual, the hut reeked of herbs and smoke and old spices. Yosei remembered how terrified she had been the first time she visited Old Takako's. The first time she came through this door was when she first ran away from her family. Back then she had been an idealist and thought the world was a fair place; how she was wrong.
"Well well well, if it isn't the little Yosei," Takako's raspy voice echoed from the depths of her hut. The witch was a chain smoker—she smoked so much Yosei was surprised she still had a voice to speak with. "You've brought me a little present?"
Yosei kicked Bankotsu's body forward and quickly closed the door behind her, very well aware that Takako got angry whenever the fumes of her smoking exited the hut. It was weird; she liked to keep the shit bottled inside.
"No, grandmamma, he's all mine."
Takako lifted herself with some difficulty from her pile of furs and wobbled towards Yosei and the unconscious body. Takako was an ancient, obese woman with a tuft of white hairs over her upper lip, which was amusing, since the hair on her head was noticeably thinning.
"He is cute," the witch said before puffing on her long pipe.
"I brought him back to life… but… he just sort of fell apart."
Yosei always felt on edge when she came to Takako's hut. The hut was filled to the brim with the spirits of ghouls and demons and of unfortunate humans. They were invisible, as most spirits, but Yosei could still feel them roaming around her and all about her. They circled her and whispered unintelligible things in her ear, making the hairs on her back stand on edge.
"Wake him up."
"I can't." Yosei flipped him over and gently brushed the dirt and the hairs from his face.
"Sure you can, child. I said, wake him up. Don't tell me you came all the way to my humble hut just to waste my time."
Grandmamma, you have all the time in the world, she wanted to tell her. Instead, Yosei did as she was told. She created the crimson, swirly ball and pushed it right through his chest. Surprisingly enough, Bankotsu took in a desperate gulp of air and woke from his unconscious state.
"But… how?" Yosei's mouth hung open as she watched it happen. Mayhap Old Takako's magic had done all the work this time.
"That won't be enough," Takako tsk'ed and hobbled back to her seat of furs, as if she was done with her diagnosis.
"What the fuck happened?" Bankotsu blurted out angrily the moment his eyes fluttered open. He tried to sit up, but only managed to lean his body awkwardly against the hut's wooden wall.
"You fell dead! And I tried everything to bring you back! I thought you had gone!" Yosei knelt next to him as if he was her child. She was half proud and half relieved that he came to again. "Grandmamma, I don't understand. I tried to resurrect him that way earlier, but it didn't work."
"Yosei—" Bankotsu grasped a handful of her robes, pulling her close to him. There was confusion and anger on those determined, blue eyes of him. "I'm not in the mood for games," he said through gritted teeth, "You said you would bring me back to life."
"I thought I taught you better! You disappoint me, Yosei!" Takako bellowed from the other side of the hut. "This is no ordinary thrall. You gave him brains and freewill, but you did not give him enough life to survive."
Both Bankotsu and Yosei looked at her, speechless.
"You will have to give him the breath of life."
The breath of life. Yosei knew what that meant, and she did not like it one bit. The breath of life meant that she had to give him a piece of her breath whenever he needed energy, as if she were his feeding stock. It was a more intimate form of resurrection. By doing so, she was taking a piece of her life and giving it to him, each single time.
"Where are we? And what is she talking about?" Bankotsu's questions went ignored.
"Is that the only way?" Yosei's voice was hardly louder than a whisper.
"Yes. If you want this thrall under your service, properly, that is what you will have to do."
Yosei's gaze met with Bankotsu's. She could feel his confusion as much as she was sure he could feel her uncertainty. That is what I will have to do.
"Yosei?" Bankotsu was of a youthful countenance, with dark hair that came as a stark contrast to his pale skin. Yosei detailed him for a second, blushing as she admitted to herself that he was handsome to her; handsome whenever he realized he was at her mercy; handsome until his mouth betrayed the rotted soul that hid underneath. And she had a choice—she could choose to resurrect someone tamer, someone more grateful that would heed her every command, or she could choose to take the gamble that was giving him life. Bankotsu was as unsteady and unpredictable as her most dangerous alchemy experiments.
Mayhap he could sense what she was thinking, for there was uncertainty in those blue eyes of his. Then, she made her decision.
"Ssh." Yosei leaned forward, stopping only when her lips were grazing his. She held her breath the entire time until she was close enough, and then she blew.
Almost as if he knew what do to, Bankotsu stole all her breath away. Yosei fell backward, her breathing panicked as she tried to regain control over it. Everything about him changed in an instant. Bankotsu was once again strong and omnipotent, no longer restrained by the ambiguity of his living situation. He got up to his feet and towered over her.
He leaned down and for a second Yosei thought he was going to maim her. Instead, he offered her his hand, which she graciously took.
"There you go, all better now," Takako said in amusement, never once bothering to move from her seat. "From now on you will have to do that. Oh and you probably don't have enough energy to sustain more undead besides those two."
"Yeah, my most precious Mistress, don't get irresponsible. You nearly killed me when you started resurrecting all those other shitty corpses around me." Bankotsu was back to his usual cheekiness.
Yosei fumed at his nerve. "You're just like those humans! Ungrateful!"
"What?"
Old Takako yawned loudly. "That's exactly why I never bother with intelligent thralls. They have a mind of their own, and you never know when you'll get an annoying one." It was smart of Bankotsu not to sass anything back to the old witch, for she was capable of darker magic Yosei couldn't even fathom to perform. Instead, he just glared at her.
"So, little Yosei, the fact that you've brought this scoundrel back to life means bad news to you, if I had to take a guess." Takako puffed on her long pipe, one eye glinting maliciously at her. She was a demon of the dark arts, a selfish being whose only interest was to keep herself satisfied and content. It made no matter if she had been her mentor once; if the Man of Many Faces came looking for her, Takako would turn her over in a heartbeat.
Bankotsu's gaze went from Yosei to the old woman, back and forth, and Yosei just gulped.
"He's still fixated on you? The demon Ichiroumaru?"
Outside the heavens clamored loudly with an incoming storm.
"He's coming for me—"
"And he won't stop until he takes you all for himself." There was amusement in Old Takako's voice. Her lips curled upward, as if she wanted to see it unfold.
The spirits in the hut went into a mad frenzy that only Yosei could sense. They whirled around her, chanting and grunting words of her impending doom that she couldn't quit comprehend. Visions of them flashed in front of her, their faces distorted in sick delight, very well knowing that her struggle would only delay the inevitable. Old Takako must have the sensed just as much, as she had the same twisted smile from the demons of her vision.
Yosei's muscles rippled in uncontrollable shivers and she stepped back. There was no need to imagine what Ichiroumaru wanted with her; she saw it in the spirits' gleeful expressions, in Takako's knowing stare. Yosei didn't get very far though. At that moment Bankotsu grasped her arm and brought her in a tight embrace. He held her close, easing the shivers until she calmed.
His proximity eased her, and it was then that she realized that he understood.
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