EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 125: Secrets

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The mansion was teeming with guests. It looked like the entire town had turned up to gawp at the Lady Mikan's intended.

Sesshoumaru trooped through the crowded room towards the nearest exit. If his betrothed couldn't even be bothered to show up on time, why should he be expected to wait around for her? He was a warlord. Not some weak-minded prince that they could bully into compliance. And he certainly hadn't travelled all the way to the Northern Mountains to be leered at and judged by a bunch of pathetic nobodies.

He was already halfway through the door when the smell of mint and lemongrass drifted into the room, halting him in his tracks.

Turning his head, he spotted Rin and Mikan standing in the opposite doorway, both clad in a traditional Chinese garb known as the Ruqun—a variation of Hanfu consisting of a long-sleeved tunic and a floor-length skirt held together by a sash. Rin's was a vivid tangerine with a peachy gradient, whereas Mikan's was crimson with a white floral pattern. It was the first time he'd seen the latter with her hair uncovered. The upper half had been fashioned into a braided crown that was skewered with gold hairpins, whilst the lower half was loose and wavy, like a cloud at sunrise. Her beauty was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to her other companion.

Octavia stepped over the threshold then, dressed in a lilac Ruqun with roses embroidered in pale gold and silver threads. Her hair looked sleeker than usual and had a slight shimmer to it, as if it had been combed through with stardust. Furthermore, the top half of her head had been segmented into twin buns that were held together by silver chain netting and butterfly clips. Her green eye sparkled as she glanced around the room, making the jade earring she was wearing seem drab and boring.

Mineru's welcoming speech went on for far too long, but once it was over and done with, Sesshoumaru was free to mingle with the crowd as he pleased. He made a show of bowing to his future wife and commending her on her beauty – much to the excitement of her fellow clansmen – but it was just an excuse to get closer to his real family.

To his surprise, Mikan made no attempt to coerce him into dancing with her. She must have known that it wasn't his preferred pastime because she quickly excused herself and danced with Roku instead.

When she was gone, Kohaku jogged over to them with the nekomata sitting on his shoulder in kitten form. Kirara leapt down from her perch and nuzzled Rin's leg, before finding the closest available cushion and testing it with her paws.

"Hey," greeted Kohaku. "You guys look great."

"Thanks," Rin answered with a shy smile.

"You don't look so bad yourself," Octavia told him.

He beamed at the compliment.

Sesshoumaru waited for him to continue the small talk, but the boy seemed to have other plans. "Sooo," he started. "I know my shift ended at sundown, but would you mind if I borrowed Rin for a bit, Octavia-san?"

She grinned. "Be my guest."

"Awesome—I mean, thank you."

Rin's face flushed pink. "W-What's this about?" she stammered.

"Isn't it obvious? No offence to Mikan-sama's parents, but this is the worst party I've ever been to." She blushed harder when the taijiya offered her his hand and said, "Come on, Rin. Let's show 'em how it's done in the human world."

"I don't know, Kohaku," Rin mumbled. "They might not appreciate us—eek!"

Octavia squealed with laughter as Kohaku grabbed Rin's hand and dragged her onto the dancefloor. The townsfolk regarded them with interest when Kohaku stretched out his arms and shook them in sync with the rest of his body. Rin giggled at his ridiculous dancing and begged him to stop, but there was no real force behind her words. She shrieked as he picked her up by the waist and spun her around with a matching grin on his face.

Sesshoumaru's chest felt warm as he observed the scene from afar.

"I've been meaning to ask," Octavia whispered. "Why did you choose Kohaku? Yeah, he's a skilled fighter, but he doesn't have any powers or special abilities. And to top it off, he's human. You could have chosen anyone. Wouldn't your mother have been the safest option? Hell, even Jaken is less breakable. So, what gives?"

Rin tried to copy Kohaku's over-the-top dance moves and failed miserably. Charmed, the taijiya whispered something in her ear and offered her his hand again. This time, she took it willingly. Sesshoumaru watched as they hopped and skipped around the room together, garnering drunken cheers from the townsfolk.

"He makes her laugh."

Octavia didn't say anything, but he could see her smiling from the corner of his eye.

"That outfit looks good on you," he murmured in English.

Her smile widened as she ran her hands down the white and lilac skirt. "Thanks. Since we didn't bring anything other than supplies for the road, Mikan let me borrow some of her clothes, and Rin thought this colour suited me the best. We had to wind the sash around my chest a few times to make it fit, though. Your bride-to-be has the biggest pair of knockers I've ever seen."

"Knockers?" he repeated, amused.

"I'm talking about her br—"

"I know perfectly well what you were referring to."

She met his gaze and chuckled. "You look nice, too. That style suits you."

The black and white garb that Mikan's father had lent him was yet another variation of Hanfu called the Yishang. The bottoms were a murky shade of teal, and the baggy sleeves bore a pattern composed entirely of swirling clouds of smoke.

"It is easier to hide weapons in," he said, pushing the oversized Dachang to one side to reveal his swords. Mineru had requested that he leave them in his quarters during the celebrations, but the only way he would do that was if he were dead.

"Sneaky," remarked Octavia. "I hope you're not planning on using them any time soon, though. We can't go around killing everyone we don't like."

He felt the corners of his mouth inching upwards. "I'm glad you're here," he confessed quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I would be on my way back to the stronghold by now."

Even though they were still speaking in English, her eyes darted around the room frantically, like she was worried that someone would hear what they were saying and go straight to Mikan's parents about it.

Her gaze eventually settled on the High Priestess and a group of dawnsingers. His grandmother was dressed in gold silks with a red sun on her back, and her platinum hair was covered by a long, gilded veil that touched the floor. The other priestesses were all clad in similar attire—the only difference being that their veils were shorter and had more of a bronze tint to them.

Shizuka caught her staring and beckoned her over with a wave.

Octavia's jaw tightened. "I should probably go and find out what she wants."

"You have my sympathies," Sesshoumaru muttered under his breath. He switched back to Nihongo and added, "Go ahead. Rin is rather preoccupied at the moment, and I have my own socialising to do. I'd hate for them to think of me as rude and misanthropic."

Biting back a smile, she made her way over to Shizuka and the other dawnsingers.

"Can I get you anything, my lord?"

He turned and found Mikan standing beside him as if she'd been there the whole time. Where in the world had she come from? Hadn't he seen her talking with Roku mere seconds ago? How had she managed to sneak up on him?

"No, thank you, my lady."

"Not even something to eat or drink?" she asked. "Our sake is the finest in the world."

"I rarely consume alcohol at the best of times, much less beyond the comfort of my own home."

"How about a tour of the mansion, then? I know all of its secrets. Did you know it's the most haunted place on the mountain? Aside from the tower, of course."

He arched a brow. "Wouldn't we need a chaperone?"

"I can arrange for one to accompany us if you'd like." Her lips curved into a mocking smile. "Unless you think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours?"

She knows she's attractive, Sesshoumaru mused, sizing her up on the sly. She uses it to get what she wants. She may be blind, but she compensates for it by being something that others cannot look away from.

Unfortunately for her, his taste ran more towards humans these days.

"I'm sure I can manage," he said.

"Perfect." Mikan slipped her arm into his and tugged him towards the door. "First, I'll show you the room that has the most ghost sightings. It's not for the faint-hearted, but I doubt you'll have any problems with it. The woman in the well, on the other hand . . ."

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The temple was eerily quiet.

Sesshoumaru trailed after Mikan in silence, his ears tuning out her incessant chatter in favour of paying close attention to his surroundings. She had taken him to dozens of allegedly haunted locations throughout the tour, but this was the first time he'd felt unnerved by one. His eyes flitted around the temple apprehensively, never lingering in the same place for too long for one vital reason. He wasn't afraid of witnessing anything supernatural. He was wary of being caught off guard and leaving himself open to an ambush. If something was here and was as dangerous as Mikan claimed, then it was his duty to find and destroy it.

Mikan made a beckoning sign with her hand and said, "This way, my lord. Our last stop is just up these stairs."

He followed her through a cramped doorway into the inside of a turret. Steep, uneven steps curved upwards in an ascending spiral pattern, and there were a handful of slit windows positioned at long intervals, which made for a dark and treacherous climb.

His breathing turned ragged the higher they climbed. Although they were gaining altitude with every step, his body felt like it was sinking deeper and deeper into the ground. The tower walls seemed to shrink inwards the further they ventured, until the passage became too narrow to navigate. Mikan seemed unaffected by the dwindling space and carried on climbing. Sesshoumaru lost sight of her after she rounded a corner and disappeared into the gloom. His gums ached from the weight of his elongated fangs as he tried to squeeze through the rocky gap to no avail.

"We're here," Mikan's voice echoed down the stairwell. "Take the next left and you'll see me."

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he pushed against the walls, only to realise that they weren't crushing him at all. It had been a trick of the mind; a physical manifestation of his worst fear; the one wound that refused to heal.

He took the next exit on his left and gulped down a mouthful of ice-cold air. The scents of plants and flowers cleansed his nostrils and banished all thoughts of death and decay. Like many of the town's buildings were, every inch of the temple's roof was covered in greenery. In addition to the countless fruit trees, the garden was full of pungent-smelling herbs and spices such as mitsuba, wasabi, and mizuna, to name a few.

Mother would have loved this place, he thought. Perhaps he should have brought her along, after all.

"What do you think?" asked Mikan. She was kneeling in front of a patch of winter peonies. The little straw huts that protected them from the elements were surrounded by thick sheets of ice.

"It is adequate," he replied.

"I'm not supposed to be up here," she said with a mischievous grin. "My mother gets nervous if I'm more than a few feet above the ground."

Sesshoumaru wrinkled his brow. "You live on a mountain."

"Tell me about it," she laughed. "I understand her reasoning, though. She's afraid I'll fall and injure myself again. She means well, but it can be rather annoying sometimes."

The leaves above them rustled in sync with her laughter. Sesshoumaru extended his youki to search the trees for eavesdroppers, but the only energy signatures he could detect were his and Mikan's.

"I have a question for you," she said, switching from Nihongo to Old Chinese. "What did you mean when you told Octavia that you had no plans to break off our engagement?"

Sesshoumaru's jaw tightened. For her to have been able to hear their conversation from so far away was both impressive and alarming. Her other senses really were heightened.

"I think it's fairly self-explanatory," he answered in Chinese.

"I disagree." Her cloudy, unfocused gaze was somehow worse than if she'd been staring up at him accusingly. "Why would she be worried about such a thing, my lord? Unlike you and Arashi-sama's daughter, Octavia has nothing to gain from this union. Therefore, she would have nothing to lose if it were to fall through."

If only that were true.

"Do you want to know what I think?"

He didn't, but he couldn't exactly stop her.

"I think your mage has a personal stake in this conflict. Doesn't she?"

"I don't know what you mean, my lady."

"Yes, you do. Those heretics you told us about want her for her powers, and you want to protect her from them because you care about her." When he didn't contradict her, she smiled and said, "I'm right, aren't I?"

He knew a trap when he heard one. "We should return to the mansion before we're—"

"You needn't worry, my lord," she cut him off. "I won't tell anyone."

"People tell all sorts of lies when they feel slighted and betrayed," he hissed. "Not that anyone would believe you. You're just angry that you've fumbled your chance at winning the heart of your intended—"

"I want to be powerful!" The passion behind her words made him pause. "Your heart is worthless to me. It won't give me what I want. But your lands and title will."

Sesshoumaru was on high alert as she rose to her feet and tilted her head in his direction. She was angry, he realised then. Not at him, but at something else.

"No one ever expects anything of me," she continued. "I've been a burden my whole life. Do you know what my mother said when we received your letter? She didn't know I was listening. I doubt she would have said it if she had, but you never know with her." Her mouth twitched. "She told Shizuka-sama that I would make a decent gift for you—that giving you access to my body would compensate for my lacklustre personality. My own mother sold me off as a whore in exchange for an alliance with you. As far as I'm concerned, I don't owe her a thing."

Sesshoumaru sighed through his nose. "Power isn't everything."

"It is to me," Mikan argued. "You'd understand if you were in my position. You don't know how it feels to be pitied by everyone you meet for something you can't control."

He did understand, though. When he lost his arm, people pitied him, too. "So, you intend to use your newfound claim over the Western Lands to alter their perception of you?"

"No more than you did after inheriting the responsibility from your father."

He chuckled.

"What's so funny, my lord?"

"It's no wonder that Octavia took such a liking to you. She is as power-hungry as they come."

Mikan's expression softened at the mention of her. "I meant what I said. I won't tell a soul—"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She smiled with pursed lips. "Fine. Don't trust me. I'm only your future wife, after all."

The leaves rustled again. Sesshoumaru's head whipped up in time to see a tiny, winged creature descending from above. He bared his teeth as the yosei plummeted towards them like an acorn. Mikan cupped her hands together, creating a basket with her fingers for the yosei to land in. This one seemed smaller than the others he'd encountered in the past. It had the trademark gold skin and taloned feet, but its wings weren't illuminated, giving him a clear view of the blue and green feathers with specks of white in them.

"Sorry!" called a voice from above. "We did tell her to watch where she was going."

There were at least a dozen other yosei staring down at them from amongst the leaves.

"It's all right," Mikan reassured them. "At least someone was around to catch her."

The one in her hand managed to hoist itself upright, only to topple over again. It reminded Sesshoumaru of a baby taking its first steps.

"Has she been given a name yet?"

"No, hime-sama," they replied in unison.

"I see. Any suggestions, my lord?"

Sesshoumaru examined the infant's ginger hair and acorn-brown eyes. "Akagashi," he said decisively. "She should be called Akagashi."

"Like the red oak tree?"

"Precisely."

"Will you accept it?" Mikan asked the yosei in the trees.

"It is a good name," they responded. "A strong name. A noble name. We thank you for it."

Smiling, Mikan tossed the infant into the air. When Akagashi flapped her wings, light exploded from her feathers and propelled her face-first into the canopy. The other yosei cheered as she zigzagged between the branches clumsily.

"What are they?" Sesshoumaru murmured. "And I want the truth of it. Not some watered-down fairy tale."

"Honestly?" said Mikan. "We don't know. No one does. The one thing we know for certain is that they've always been here. They were here long before our ancestors, and chances are – they'll be here long after we're all gone."

The yosei surprised them both by chanting, "We are infinite. We are forever. Our home is lost, but we are found."

He scowled at their vague wording. "What do you mean lost?"

"It was split down the middle when the Shadow landed in the sacred spring from whence the five Shikon Goddesses drank the elixir of immortality. The half known as Horaijima was seized by false gods and carried away by the tide, whilst the other half served as a prison for a real god. We escaped from the former and sought refuge on the latter for a time, before migrating here."

"This is riveting," Mikan whispered. "I've never heard them talk so much in my life."

Sesshoumaru kept pushing. "Why here? Why not stay on Namida with the rest of your brethren?"

"The answer is but a few hundred feet away."

Akagashi flapped her wings and raced past him, towards the tower's spire. The others followed suit—the combined light from their wings making them look like a meteor shower.

Mikan placed a hand on his arm. "What are they doing? Tell me!"

The swarm drew a loop around the spire before vanishing into the night.

"The usual," he mumbled. "They seem to enjoy tormenting me. I suppose I have my father to thank for that. My family has always been somewhat disagreeable, but none of us can hold a candle to the great Inu no Taisho – stealer of lightning bolts and maker of enemies."

Mikan was still holding onto his sleeve when she uttered, "I was only a few weeks old when he left, so I can't comment on his overall character, but my father often talks about how kind he was. He and my mother both miss him very much."

"No one likes to speak ill of the dead. It's why we only ever tell stories that depict them in a positive light. Dead men are without flaws, whereas the living are condemned for even the tiniest of mistakes." Balling his hands into fists, Sesshoumaru looked over his shoulder at the garden and said, "My father was a sham. He was a liar who did more harm than good, but that's not what the legends say. The fools who wrote them never knew the real Touga. He was a fantasy. A romanticised picture in their minds."

Speaking of liars . . .

It was time to put an end to this exhausting charade.

Sesshoumaru freed his sleeve from her grasp and widened the distance between them. "Whatever those infernal creatures are planning, I wager it has something to do with Octavia."

"What led you to that conclusion, my lord?"

"I couldn't say. Why don't you go ahead and tell me, Mikan?"

Her brow creased. "I'm sorry?"

"You were the one who invited her. Why? What is it that you want from her? Is it her magic? Or has your clan learned of the Radiant One's existence and allied yourselves with the Church?"

I think your mage has a personal stake in this conflict.

"You must have. How else could you have known about her connection to them?"

Mikan snorted. "You're not thinking clearly—"

"Tell me why you manipulated her into coming here!" The air around them was charged with youki as he glared at her, red-eyed and claws dripping venom onto the snow. Her nostrils flared in response to the strong, acidic smell, and she shrunk into herself. Her meek expression made his resolve waver slightly. "I won't ask you again."

"You're not the only one with secrets, my lord. It doesn't seem fair that you're allowed to keep yours whilst I'm expected to reveal mine."

"If you harm her in any way—"

"I would never." Her tone was resolute. "I care about her too, you know. We haven't known each other for long, but Octavia is my friend. I didn't have many of those growing up. I have a feeling that you didn't, either."

She was right about that, at least. He was never shunned by his peers as a child, and his status as heir ensured that he was never bullied, but he also hadn't formed any meaningful connections with the other courtiers' children. He hadn't wanted to disappoint his parents – and by extension, the realm – by being rowdy like all the other boys and girls who lived in the stronghold, so he'd held his tongue and kept his distance from them. At the time, the few friends he'd allowed himself to have were the soldiers he trained alongside.

"Even so," he said. "Let this be a warning to you. If anything happens to her, you'll need more than a healer after I'm finished with you."

Her milky eyes flickered in their sockets. "She's your first love." His sharp inhale made her smile and mutter, "The intensity makes sense now."

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Octavia felt tipsy.

Whilst Rin's attention was still on Kohaku – which it hadn't wavered from for the past several hours – she excused herself and staggered to the nearest benjo stall. After relieving herself, she decided to take a short detour on her way back to the banquet room. She needed to clear her head, so why not take the long way round?

The fresh air did wonders for the fuzzy feeling in her brain, and the sound of snow crunching beneath her sandals made her smile. If she closed her eyes, the mushed-up ice could easily be mistaken for sand. She imagined herself standing on a beach in the middle of summer, with the sun on her face and salt in her hair.

A horse whinnied from across the courtyard, shattering her daydream. Its coat was pure white and there were two giant, feathery wings protruding from its scapula. There was also a horn sticking out of its forehead, which sparkled in the moonlight. Octavia rubbed her eyes in disbelief. She hadn't had that much to drink, had she?

The winged horse nickered before trotting over to a small grove of evergreen trees, where a dozen other mounts were tearing off leaves with their teeth.

Ah-Un glanced up from the lower branches and hobbled towards her on its three legs. Unlike Sesshoumaru's arm, which had regenerated during the emergence of the Bakusaiga, Ah-Un's hind leg was gone for good.

"What are you doing out here?" Octavia asked, opening her arms to pull the dragon into a hug. "I thought you was coming to the engagement party with us," she slurred. "Did those mean bouncers not let you in?" Her eyes shifted to the horses as she cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, "I see you've made friends wit' the locals. Even the animals are better looking here. Why is that, d'ya think?"

Ah-Un snorted and mussed her hair with its snouts.

She sighed. "I don't wanna go back. How 'bout I just stay out here with you?"

The dragon rolled its eyes.

"I mean it. Sesshoumaru's disappeared somewhere, and if I have to listen to his grandma harping on about Amaterasu again, I'm gonna lose my goddamn mind—"

Her complaining was cut short when she spotted Jiahao walking along the engawa. He didn't seem to have noticed her. Was it because of Ah-Un and the horses? Mikan would have clocked her scent by now, but her father's sense of smell was nowhere near as precise as hers was.

Octavia opened her mouth to shout hello to him, but the word never made it past her lips.

The dawnsinger called Ushio was standing on the far end of the engawa. Her silver curls were obscured by her veil, but Octavia recognised her face. Dread twisted in her stomach when Jiahao stopped in front of Ushio and placed both of his hands on her shoulders. They were too far away for Octavia to hear what they were saying, but the priestess looked distraught. She kept shaking her head and making frustrated gestures with her hands. Jiahao, on the other hand, remained calm and composed throughout the exchange, even when she pushed against his chest with her fists.

Octavia was worried that they were going to end up hurting each other, until Mikan's father cupped the priestess's face and kissed her.

Octavia ducked behind Ah-Un and held her breath. The dragon resumed eating, angling its heads so that she could see without being seen.

The kiss lasted for quite a while, only stopping when Jiahao pulled away and muttered something unintelligible. Ushio nodded in resignation. She looked younger when she wasn't scowling. Too young, Octavia thought. Not only was Jiahao old enough to be her father, but he was also married and had a daughter who was roughly the same age as her.

Octavia stayed hidden as he gave the priestess one final kiss before parting ways with her. Once he was gone, Ushio fell to her knees and wept. Octavia averted her eyes. Her throat felt tight as she listened to Ushio's muffled sobs.

After a while, her crying came to an abrupt halt. Octavia turned her head and stared at the priestess through the gap between Ah-Un's two necks. She was unnaturally still, and her hands were on the floor beside her hips with the palms facing outwards. She didn't seem herself for a multitude of reasons, but the most damning piece of evidence was her eyes, which were coal black and trained on the Tawā Akatsuki.

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Author's Corner

If you want to see the inspiration for the gang's outfits in this chapter, check out the links in my profile.

Thanks for reading!