The noise of the city streets had become distant again, muffled under a thick layer of magic shifting through the air. Streetlamps wavered, dimming and brightening in quick succession, casting eerie, inconsistent shadows. The gate to the courtyard stood open, a passageway through which the outside world was all too easily accessible.
A tall figure loomed in the doorway, stock still and staring. Hakuryuu stared back.
Inevitably, the creeping shadow of Sidhe had reached him. Those idle days in the company of his host had been a pleasant respite, made all the more precious by the knowledge they couldn't last. Hakuryuu had known, from the moment he set foot outside the threshold, that he was inviting his enemies to his door. And they had come, hovering just close enough he could smell them until the sun fell from the sky.
Night was the time of UnSeelie fae. In the darkness they were unmatched, the unseen quiet was their domain. Even if it had not been, no fae was foolish enough to wage war in the middle of a mortal street under their blistering sun.
Judal had been on edge that evening. He spoke of feeling watched as he came home, as if eyes passed over him constantly, combing across him, trying to peel away his skin. Hakuryuu cooked a light dinner and ushered him to bed early. Before he left the apartment, he pressed his fingers to his host's door and whispered wards into the wood. Just in case.
Now he stood there, at the far end of the courtyard he had filled to burst with greenery, staring into sunken eyes. Neither fae seemed willing to move first.
For a moment, Hakuryuu considered not engaging at all. He could go back inside and go to sleep, for weak or not, no fae would challenge him after passing through a threshold. That he was past one himself either meant he was a prisoner or a guest, and both were equally dangerous.
He could wake Judal and tell him that they could no longer leave the building or the courtyard, promise him food from the garden and his own company as compensation. Or he could let him sleep. And sleep and sleep, until time enough had passed that fae had grown bored of watching outside the building and left him for dead. Judal would hate both these options, of course, and even if he wouldn't Hakuryuu had never been one to run and hide.
Bare feet made no sound as he crossed the length of the courtyard in brisk strides. He had not bothered with his armor, concerned the sound of it would wake Judal and make him question where Hakuryuu was going. His sword rested at his hip, the belt digging into his waist in a way he wasn't used to. The thin cloth of his t-shirt did little to buffer the weight of it, but it was comforting, in a way.
The fae at the gate did not move and Hakuryuu stopped just short of it. They were almost toe to toe, an invisible barrier between them that neither had any desire to cross. Hakuryuu looked up into the tall creature's face.
Up close, he could tell it was a yaksha. They were a strange race, existing in a stark dichotomy of benevolent and malicious only, with no in-between. The yaksha he had met before were lovely creatures, tall and kind-faced, though their features sometimes stretched and twisted unnaturally. These were the benevolent ones, who dwelt in thick woods and steep mountains, always stooping curiously to look at him as the earth responded to his presence.
This was quite obviously not one of those. Hakuryuu could smell rotting flesh on its breath, and its eyes were bloodshot, as if it never blinked. The yaksha had swaddled itself in too many layers of tattered cloth, most of it stained with wine colored blood, no doubt plucked from its many victims.
It made sense that a yaksha would be the first to find him, in a way. The malicious ones liked to wander through crossroads and waylays, searching for weary travelers to bleed dry and eat. Desperate ones would huddle at the roadside in their tattered cloth garb and pretend to be an elderly beggar, but only small and foolish fae fell for that.
Hakuryuu was neither small, nor foolish, and this yaksha was not bothering with pretenses. It towered over him, still as death and staring at him with eyes hungry for flesh and blood. He tilted his head, just slightly, and watched its eyes follow him.
"Allow me to step outside," he instructed. "As I doubt you dare to step in."
The yaksha's eyes widened further, so they were now covering at least half its face. Nonetheless it stepped aside, sweeping one elongated arm out in a gesture of offering. It looked little like its kinder counterparts, but it still held a measure of respect and honor to it.
The courtyard seemed to shift and whisper, every plant its own voice. Hakuryuu understood them, acknowledged the boughs of the trees stretched out for him and the vines slithering to the concrete. He wanted to remain within the yard, within the threshold, but his time for hiding was over.
It may have been his imagination, but it felt as though the threshold clung to him as he stepped outside, unwilling to let him go. His fingers flexed on the hilt of his sword as the urge to turn his head and look up at the window to Judal's apartment almost overwhelmed him. He did not allow himself to do so. There was a chance that the yaksha, and whatever companions it had, were unaware of Judal's involvement.
And besides, it was not as if he would never return. He would finish this creature, and then return to his host's side. Judal would be none the wiser.
The two fae paced to the center of the road, keeping a steady distance between themselves. The yards separating them would mean very little soon enough. While he could, Hakuryuu took stock of his surroundings, well aware that his familiarity with them would give him the advantage.
Even in the daytime, it was not an exceptionally busy roadway, but the sheer emptiness of it was conspicuous now. Magic sparked in the air, fizzling and hissing as it fed on the mounting tension between the two opponents. Even the densest mortal would be unable to bring themselves to walk down this street. Their subconscious would be screaming at them to turn around, that something was wrong here.
This suited them both, though Hakuryuu was sure the yaksha cared little about excess casualties. There was no sense in drawing attention to themselves, mortal or otherwise. Especially when Hakuryuu was meant to already be dead; he doubted the yaksha wanted to share its would-be prize.
"A moment of your time?" Hakuryuu asked.
The cool, gentlemanly tone he used was familiar to him. His tongue remembered how to shape his words around this cadence easily, as if it had not been what felt like a lifetime since he used it. It was the tone of the battlefield, unruffled and serene.
The yaksha tilted its head at a sharp angle, thoughtful, then nodded.
"Is the Queen's knight the one who sent you?"
Beneath the cloth wrapped around its head, the yaksha's mouth opened. It made a dent in the fabric, pressing back against a row of far too many teeth.
"Does it matter truly if it was, o prince?" the yaksha questioned in an unsettlingly soothing voice. "He is not the only one who wishes you dead, you know."
"Oh, I am aware. However, he is the only one who ought to know I am alive."
Something like a grimace passed over the yaksha's face, which Hakuryuu pretended not to notice. The yaksha wanted to play with its food, wind him up in its fallacies before going for his throat, and he wasn't playing along. Hakuryuu could admit, this was unusual for him. He liked a game of words and subtleties as much as the next fae, and usually battlefield banter delighted him.
But he was playing a different game now, with vastly different stakes, and he had little patience for the yaksha's dawdling.
"The knight sent many of us," the yaksha said, its words rasped at the edges. "Not of my kind, just those that would go. For a price, a reward, and a chance to have your blood. All he desires is your head, prince, that alone."
"I have no intention of dying. Certainly not at his whims."
The yaksha tilted its head in the opposite direction, regarding him with an unreadable expression.
"You would ask me, then, to simply leave you to your devices? Offer me something in return for your life?"
A brief, sharp laugh escaped Hakuryuu's lips.
"I won't ask anything of you." he said. "Your corpse won't be doing me any favors."
He did not give the yaksha a chance to further the exchange before lunging. His sword slid free of its sheathe in one fluid motion, silent as a whisper and twice as swift. The polearm had always been his preferred weapon, but a sword was just as deadly in his practiced hands.
The yaksha leapt aside, barely, wide eyes watching the arc of the silvery blade as it slid cleanly through the air. Without moonlight, the blade no longer shone, but the flickering streetlamps still gleamed hauntingly off its surface.
There was no hesitation in Hakuryuu's movements. While the yaksha steadied itself on unfamiliar ground, he had already twisted his body to jab at the fae's belly. His blade struck, but cut through cloth instead of flesh, revealing the yaksha's concave stomach.
In the same motion, he dipped himself downwards, ducking under the yaksha's swipe. Its fingers were already unnaturally long, and now thick claws had begun to extend from the nailbeds, growing by the moment.
The heel of his foot met concrete and he pivoted himself, bringing his sword around for an upwards slice across his opponent's back. However the yaksha's initial imbalance from the sudden start of their fight was gone, and it twisted easily out of the way. Both clawed hands swept through the air at him, and Hakuryuu was forced to parry swift, slashing blows as he skirted backwards.
An opening presented itself amidst the myriad of blows. Hakuryuu flicked his wrist, the blade sliced neatly through two of the yaksha's claws. This startled the fae long enough for him to bring his leg up and slam his foot into its belly, kicking his attacker back just far enough for him to spin out of reach.
The yaksha wavered on its feet for a moment, prodding gingerly at its stomach to assess the damage. Hakuryuu bounced on his toes, the adrenaline humming in his veins making it impossible to stay still. This familiar dance was one he had missed during his idle days. Pitting his wellbeing against an opponent's to the staccato of clashing wills.
The yaksha deemed itself fit enough to continue the fight, shaking its hand absently as new claws began to extend from its fingers. Hakuryuu flexed his wooden wrist, only faintly aware of the roots digging deeper into his flesh, grounding themselves further into his bone.
For a moment, the street was silent again, the yaksha's eyes scoping carefully over its opponent. It was beginning to understand the measure of Hakuryuu's capabilities, or at least it thought it was. Not a single blow had landed on the prince yet, and confidence was burning inside his ribs. He could finish this easily. All he needed was a single opening, it didn't matter if it was an honorless kill, he just needed it to be over.
At the exact same moment, they both lunged, Hakuryuu aiming once more for the yaksha's belly, while the yaksha went for his throat. They both missed, trajectories skimming by one another entirely. Hakuryuu recovered first, hooking his foot against the yaksha's calf and yanking forward with his body's natural movement to throw it off-balance.
Despite its awkward appearance, the yaksha was not graceless. It flipped itself easily with the movement, and in mid-air it twisted unnaturally at the waist so that when it landed it brought its long claws cutting through the air towards the prince's head. Hakuryuu blocked, but not quickly enough to stop one long claw slicing across his shoulder.
The pain was jarring, for a moment. He had never thought he could forget what it was like for his skin to be cut. Centuries had been spent on the battlefield, tens of human lifetimes he had lived only at war. Had living with Judal made him soft?
Looking back, the next few seconds would come to Hakuryuu with sharp clarity. His mind was moving too quickly, and several thoughts barreled into one another at once. The result made the prince's movements falter, just for a heartbeat.
The yaksha lunged, and Hakuryuu jerked his blade up to block. He realized a moment too late that it was a feint. It changed directions, raking its claws against his hip and down his thigh. One nail caught under his skin, tearing free and splitting his flesh further in the process. Hakuryuu cried out sharply, lurching away.
It was as if someone had snapped their fingers in front of Hakuryuu's eyes. Suddenly the fight was terribly more real than it had been before. Never underestimate an opponent, even if you know you outmatch them by miles; it was one of the first things his tutors had drilled into him. The pain, the sudden danger to this fight, met the lingering thought of Judal, and the two collided into something gruesome.
For a brief moment, Hakuryuu imagined that he would lose. Thoughts of his own mangled corpse were passed over easily, but what came next made his breath catch. He saw the yaksha prowling back into one of the side alleys, waiting for the sun to come up. He thought of it risking the threshold to seek more warm flesh to feast on within the building just beside them.
Mortals bled red, Hakuryuu remembered. The same color as Judal's enchanting eyes, only sickening, unnatural. He imagined red pouring from a jagged cut on Judal's throat, bubbling from between his pretty lips and spilling down his chin. His stomach torn open with savage glee, pink insides spilling from the confines of his body. Judal's lovely, pale skin, all painted scarlet.
His heart slammed into his ribs. He drew in a single breath. The prince's entire demeanor shifted.
The yaksha noticed the change immediately and reeled back, as if he had just brandished iron beneath its nose. Something cold and lifeless had begun to seep into the prince's aura; his eyes had become blank sheets of fathomless frost, endless, suffocating. The long shadows cast by the streetlamps seemed to flicker and cling to the soles of his feet, as if he was a mere extension of them.
When Hakuryuu struck next, it was with the grace of a dancer. His movements were no longer calculated or strategic, they were fluid and unforgiving. Each blow was meant to hurt, no matter how minor the damage. Glancing cuts to the yaksha's wrists and palms, shallow slices across its calves, forearms, side. The sword's blade was slicked with mauve blood, moving so quickly it was little more than a river in the air.
There was no opening for the yaksha to retaliate. It tried valiantly to strike at the prince, sacrificing one hand in an attempt to catch the blade and strike with the other. The sword cleaved between its fingers and cut open its cheek before its claws could do more than scrape Hakuryuu's chest.
It had become painfully obvious how out of its depth the yaksha truly was, though only moments had passed. Escape was impossible, and the fight had been over long ago. The desperation in its frenzied movements became more and more pronounced, even as the futility became undeniable.
It would be kindest to simply end the yaksha's life and have done with. But there was a whisper of cruelty in Hakuryuu, one he had silenced with an oath, which had been aching to be heard. It could not fill his head with malevolent murmurs meant for a certain mortal ( or perhaps it no longer wanted to, ) but the yaksha was another matter.
How long had it been since he had indulged his bloodlust? How many battles had Hakuryuu stilled his blade and swallowed the dryness in his throat, pretending he didn't yearn for blood? He could keep this up for hours, he knew how to keep any creature alive, keep them suffering—
The roots in his left arm throbbed, sending a bolt of agony straight to the center of his thoughts. The malice scattered. He braced himself, put his weight behind his right arm, swung. His blade cut through cloth and flesh, shearing open the yaksha's throat.
It fell, gurgling, to the concrete. Hakuryuu watched, eyes still pitiless and blank, as its body twitched.
The yaksha's corpse was barely more than a collection of open wounds. It wore little of the cloth it had been swaddled in to begin with, most of it cut away in his flurry of blows. He could see its gaunt outline, watch as blood oozed from every split surface.
The yaksha stopped convulsing quickly. Hakuryuu stared at it a moment longer, body still held tight, ready to strike. Then, relaxed.
Behind him, there came a breath, and then;
"…Hakuryuu?"
There was a moment—just one, fleeting moment –where Hakuryuu had the overwhelming, unfamiliar urge to run. It was an almost primal fear. He didn't want to turn and face what was behind him, he wanted to do anything but that.
Hakuryuu turned his head and met Judal's gaze.
The veil of cold indifference lifted from his mind the moment he laid eyes on his host. He knew that for a split second he had still been under its power, and for less than a heartbeat Judal had had to stare into the eyes of something empty. Something filled only with endless cold and nothing else.
Judal stood framed almost perfectly in the courtyard's open gate. Ivy and leaves had almost obscured the wrought iron, and in another moment Hakuryuu would have thought the sight of him standing there in his night clothes to be quite beautiful. But then Judal took a step forward, and something painful gripped his chest.
"Don't." Hakuryuu said sharply, and Judal stopped moving immediately. "Stay within the threshold. Please."
Judal fell back on his heels, hovering at the edge of gate. Hakuryuu became aware in bits and pieces what he must look like to him; standing over a corpse he had taken apart for no reason but cruel satisfaction, painted in drying blood. He must seem like a ghost of the person Judal had come to know.
His stomach twisted unpleasantly. He couldn't go near him. Not now. Not bloodied and armed, the vicious beast in his belly still prowling just beneath his skin. He had never wanted Judal to see him like this.
Like he had heard Hakuryuu's thoughts, Judal called out to him.
"You should come inside."
His body obeyed, as if his words were the only law it knew. Hakuryuu could stop himself if he wanted, but for every part of him that thought he should stay away, two more yearned to be close again. The cold had never felt so heavy before, and the warmth of the world without it had never been so inviting.
He stepped through the gate, aware of the subtle drag of the threshold drawing him inside itself once more. The air inside the courtyard felt more welcoming, the night not so vast. Even without looking, Hakuryuu was acutely aware of Judal's presence, his breathing and his gaze. He couldn't meet his eyes.
"You're hurt." Judal said softly, pale fingers reached out.
They brushed his hip, just above where the yaksha's claws had left their mark. Hakuryuu could feel the dull throbbing of the wound, and was vaguely aware that what he was feeling was pain. He couldn't focus on it, not when Judal's fingertips were pressed so tentatively to his skin.
He stood there, allowing his host to touch him without a word. The single touch became hands that pressed and sought methodically across his torso for wounds that did not exist, and Hakuryuu's thoughts went static. Something in him was exhausted, not from the fight, but from the endless stream of thoughts and feelings that had flown through his head. He felt weary, but too awake to rest.
Judal's fingers brushed his cheek and Hakuryuu's breathing stilled. His host hesitated, sensing his sudden return to awareness, before the soft touch became firm. His palm slid against the prince's cheek, cupping the side of his face.
Hakuryuu lifted his eyes, finally meeting Judal's gaze. All the fear of what he would see there- disgust, wariness –flew from his mind. There was no hesitation in Judal's eyes, no concern for the blood now staining his hands. Just a soft, warm fondness, directed at him, and this set something alight in Hakuryuu's chest that had his breath leaving him in a rush.
He leaned into Judal's touch, shameless. His palm pressed the Judal's harder against his skin, reveling in its warmth. It felt as though it belonged there, touching him, dragging him back down to earth and away from the biting cold of his inner beast. He turned his head, pressing his parted lips against the heel of Judal's thumb. Judal's fingers curled so the tips pressed into his flesh, and Hakuryuu let out a shuddering sigh.
They stood there, wordless and still. The sounds of the city carried on in the distance, and the sky overhead still hung with blurred stars. The body of the yaksha lay in the street. All was still again.
Notes:
A yaksha is type of faerie that comes from Asian mythos, most often seen in Buddhism and Hinduism. They are commonly benevolent nature fey associated with the wilderness and mountains, however they possess a much darker dual persona. These malevolent yaksha are usually depicted as an ogre or ghost that haunts wilderness and pathways, eating passing travelers.