Author's Corner

Thank you so much for your continued support victoriarogue! I have an overwhelming urge to read an Inuyasha/ATLA crossover fic now though. If anyone has any recommendations let me know lol!

I'm so happy you all seem to be enjoying the action scenes because I hate writing them lmao. I feel like I'm more prone to errors when I'm writing out of my comfort zone, so please let me know if you spot any mistakes/inconsistencies I may have missed. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 92: Reflections

.

.

Help him. Please . . . Don't let him die.

Octavia jolted awake to the sound of Rin's voice. Her surroundings were tinted cerulean, and the war drums sounded muffled and distant, as if they were miles away from the battlefield.

She turned and saw Koga standing beside her with his hand sheathed in metal. The device he was wielding consisted of five claw-like appendages that tapered into points, all of which were welded to a silver band on his wrist. The metal emitted a blinding yellow light that made her eyes sting.

The ground beneath her had turned to mush, and the air reeked of death and decay. Lifting her head, she searched the sea of endless blue for her friend, but it was no use. Rin was nowhere to be seen. But her voice—it had sounded so clear. Had she imagined it?

Her musings were cut short by the sensation of something digging into her nape. Frowning, she reached into her kosode and flinched as the Prophecy-Breaker suddenly jerked against her hand. The locket lurched forwards like an arrow being released, but remained tethered to her neck by the chain. It seemed to have developed a mind of its own, she thought as it rattled furiously, as if demanding to be freed.

Help him.

Octavia's eyes widened as Rin's voice sliced through her eardrums. Reacting purely on instinct, she opened her mouth to alert Koga of the danger, but closed it when she realised that the warning wasn't for him. Beyond the Tenseiga's cerulean barrier, she was able to distinguish the silhouettes of Sesshoumaru and the usurper engaged in deadly combat. Her stomach turned when she saw the blood running down Sesshoumaru's exposed arm. His ancestral pelt was badly burnt, and both of his sleeves were missing, but the armour Totosai had made for him was still fully intact.

The pressure on her neck increased when Tsunayoshi used his blade to slash at Sesshoumaru's right cheek, causing blood to cascade down his face.

"No . . ." she whimpered, staggering weakly to her feet. Her legs felt like they were made of jelly. Desperation swarmed her senses, but the feeling was only partially hers. Someone else's fear ricocheted through her body like a rogue shotgun shell. It was a shared terror. A shared dread. A shared suffering. "Rin?" Octavia whispered, cradling the locket in her palms in an effort to soothe its convulsions. "If you can hear me . . . I'm on it."

A bone-curdling screech exploded from above, prompting her to look up at the overcast sky. Those weren't clouds covering the sun, she realised grimly. Thousands of ngea cluttered the skies overhead, swirling above the battlefield like ink in water. She watched as several of them swooped down and stuffed themselves into corpses, then used their new bodies to butcher anyone who dared to stand in their way. One of them locked eyes with her through the Tenseiga's barrier and hissed, but seemed reluctant to approach her whilst she was within the sword's dome of protection. She resisted the urge to avert her gaze and swallowed thickly.

They wouldn't hesitate to kill her this time. If she left the safety of the barrier, she would die.

"Where's Cyril?" she asked abruptly.

Koga's eyes bulged wide. "When did you—Oh, forget it." He pointed to a portion of the battlefield that was illuminated by flashes of purple light. "Over there," he said. "Why do you ask?"

She didn't dignify him with a response.

Grabbing the Tenseiga's hilt, she prised it out of the ground and gripped it tightly. The sword juddered a few times in protest, but soon quietened once it realised that she had no intention of leaving it behind. She could hardly blame it for reacting so strongly. Although it was used to being abandoned, the fear of being alone never went away. She sympathised with it in that regard.

I would never do that to you, she promised fiercely. Never.

The light shone brighter as the barrier finally became stable again.

"Stay close," she told Koga, then marched towards the flashing lights.

.

.

Sesshoumaru's hands were slick with sweat. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but death and destruction. The ground was lined with corpses – many of which were being puppeteered by the ngea like dolls on strings – and the hills surrounding the battlefield were black with gunpowder residue. At this rate, there wouldn't be anyone left to witness the outcome of his fight with Tsunayoshi. It all seemed so insignificant now. Whoever won would be ruling over a graveyard.

"Am I boring you?" mocked Tsunayoshi. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd given up."

Sesshoumaru answered by thrusting the edge of the Bakusaiga into Tsunayoshi's breastplate. Plum-coloured flames instantly coiled around the blade and devoured its youki. The usurper grinned as the fire spread across his body, forming a second layer of armour on top of his actual set. Grunting, Sesshoumaru pulled the Bakusaiga free and somersaulted backwards. He landed gracefully, but his actions carried with them a fatigue that was becoming difficult to ignore.

Tsunayoshi clicked his tongue condescendingly. "You're determined, I'll give you that. But I'm afraid that your efforts will have been in vain. Your fate was decided long ago, Son of Touga."

"Why do you refuse to utter this one's name?" Sesshoumaru asked, panting slightly. "Is your memory truly so poor? Or do you dare not out of fear?"

Anger sparked in Tsunayoshi's crimson gaze. "I fear nothing. Least of all you."

"And yet you waited until I was absent from the stronghold to initiate the invasion." Sesshoumaru lunged forwards and knocked Tsunayoshi's blade out of his hand with one powerful strike. "Your actions contradict your words. I could smell your cowardice for miles. Admit it, Tsunayoshi. You planned it this way because you know I am superior to you in every way."

The usurper smiled menacingly. "How delusional of you. Your arrogance will be your undoing."

Sesshoumaru was so focused on Tsunayoshi that he failed to sense the ensemble of reanimated corpses advancing on him from behind. By the time he realised what was happening, it was already too late. He whirled around to fend them off with the Bakusaiga, but their hands seized him before he could so much as lift his arm to swing. The ngea laughed at him with their hosts' damaged vocal cords, and their black eyes glittered like shards of obsidian.

"I warned you," Tsunayoshi hissed. "There can only be one Lord of the Western Lands—"

Lightning struck the spot where the corpses were standing and reduced them all to dust. Sesshoumaru recoiled in pain as the residual sparks fizzed and singed his skin. Reiki, he realised suddenly, recognising the familiar sting of spiritual energy.

Eager for answers, he shifted his gaze to the pile of cinders where the corpses had been standing mere moments ago, and saw a solitary arrow sticking out of the smoking mound.

Sesshoumaru's and Tsunayoshi's heads both tilted upwards in unison—their duel forgotten as they searched for the archer that had let the arrow fly. Sesshoumaru had an inkling of whom it might be long before his eyes landed on an enormous creature soaring high above the battlefield, transporting an old acquaintance of his on its impressively sized back.

The miko known as Kagome readied another arrow and aimed it at a different band of corpses. A small pink sphere formed at the tip before expanding to the size of a fully ripened peach. Only then did she release the bowstring and let the arrow fly. It zipped through the air like a shooting star, leaving a trail of pink sparks in its wake, before hitting its mark perfectly. The ngea shrieked as the reiki disintegrated their hosts' bodies, forcing them to return to their true forms.

"A miko," observed Tsunayoshi. "How curious. They are our sworn enemies, are they not?"

Sesshoumaru didn't answer.

She wouldn't have come alone. If she was here, the others couldn't be far.

His suspicions were confirmed when dozens of Tsunayoshi's soldiers were launched into the air and carried away by a miniature typhoon. It took Sesshoumaru a moment to spot the perpetrator amid all the chaos, but once he had, the bright red haori and silver mane were all he could see.

Tsunayoshi's expression faltered slightly. "Impossible," he breathed. "I was told that he'd—"

"Look again," Sesshoumaru cut him off. "My father sired not one son, but two."

The usurper inhaled sharply. "Then he must be . . ."

Sesshoumaru didn't wait for him to finish. He summoned his acid claws and grabbed Tsunayoshi by the throat. "He is unimportant. The whelp has never fought in an actual war before. His kill count is so low that it has yet to enter triple digits. The only foe worth worrying about is me."

Tsunayoshi snorted. "And yet he succeeded where you and your father both failed."

Sesshoumaru's hand tightened around his neck. Tsunayoshi seemed suspiciously unfazed by the corrosive substance burrowing into his flesh. His high pain tolerance was like nothing Sesshoumaru had ever seen.

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew!" Tsunayoshi barked. "News of my father's death at the hands of a hanyou travelled far and wide. I didn't believe it at first, but a quick trip to the valley where he'd been sealed was all the confirmation I needed."

"But if you knew the identity of Ryukotsusei's murderer, why didn't you—"

"Hunt him down? Kill him? What good would that have done? Unlike you, the boy has no lands or titles for me to reap for myself. His mother may have been a princess, but he is no one."

Sesshoumaru frowned. "I thought this was about vengeance, not power."

"Everything is about power." Tsunayoshi grabbed the hand that was wrapped around his throat and wrenched it away, impervious to the acid seeping out of Sesshoumaru's claws. "Worry not, Son of Touga. Your father's bastard will pay for what he did. He is simply further down on my list of priorities. As soon as I'm finished with you, I will tear him apart as he did my sire."

"You will do no such thing," Sesshoumaru growled warningly. "His life is mine to do with as I please. Keep your filthy hands off it!"

Tsunayoshi's eyes widened as he balled his hand into a fist and punched him square in the face. He stumbled backwards in surprise, then gingerly touched the spot where Sesshoumaru's knuckles had struck his jaw.

His eyes filled with venom as he hissed, "We half-demons are not toys for you and your brethren to play with. Our lives may be fraught with pain and misery, but they belong to us, not you. What gives you the right to take that from us?" Sesshoumaru opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off. "That was a rhetorical question," Tsunayoshi continued with a sigh. "You know, for a being who views himself as the ultimate life form, you're a little on the slow side."

Not too long ago, Sesshoumaru might have fallen for Tsunayoshi's attempts to rile him up, but he knew better now. True strength didn't come from a wounded pride, nor was it born out of the desire to prove oneself. It came from a place of discipline and control. Power wasn't something to be acquired through a series of tasks and challenges. It existed within the soul, waiting to be freed. All one had to do was learn to wield it properly.

"Better to be a fool than a recreant without honour," he countered.

Tsunayoshi snorted. "Honour, you say? Who cares about honour? It is merely an illusion! A lie invented by men who sought to separate themselves from their primitive natures! Yes, it's easier to sleep at night once you've been granted justification for the atrocities you've committed, but a true warrior knows that wars are no place for morals."

He really was Ryukotsusei's son.

Sesshoumaru assumed a fighting stance and aimed the Bakusaiga at Tsunayoshi's chest. Without a steady stream of youki flowing through the blade, the sword felt cold and lifeless. He tried replenishing the supply, but it was as if a barrier had been erected around the sword, making the transferal of youki impossible.

"The shadows were wrong about you," Tsunayoshi muttered. "You're so much weaker than I expected."

A man's worth should be measured by what he accomplishes. And the goals he strives to attain. That's how you tell the strong ones apart from the weak.

It had taken months for his mind to process those words, but Sesshoumaru finally understood what Octavia had meant. It didn't matter how powerful you were if you planned on abusing that power to satisfy your own selfish, misled desires. You could command the largest army in the world, yet still be weak-hearted and cowardly. In most cases, intentions were everything.

Tsunayoshi was fighting to destroy, whereas he was fighting to defend.

"Your opinion of me is irrelevant," Sesshoumaru told him. "All that matters is the outcome of this fight. That will determine which of us is stronger, and who deserves to rule the Western Lands."

Tsunayoshi's eyes sparkled with bloodlust. "I admire your resolve, but neither of us will perish today." He chuckled at Sesshoumaru's perplexed expression. "For you, death would be a kindness," he elaborated. "I intend to prolong your suffering for as long as possible."

"That is not what we agreed—"

"I will have justice for my family's downfall!" he boomed. "It is what I'm owed!"

Sesshoumaru clenched his jaw. He was ashamed of how similar he and Tsunayoshi were. If their roles had been reversed, he would have taken drastic measures to avenge his family's legacy as well. "Stop this," Sesshoumaru implored. "Before it is too late."

Tsunayoshi's eyes darkened. "It is already too late."

The usurper lunged at him with his talons, slashing at the Bakusaiga's dulled blade furiously. Digging his heels into the sludgy ground, Sesshoumaru pushed against Tsunayoshi's weight, but it was like trying to move a mountain. The fact that Tsunayoshi intended to keep him alive brought very little comfort. He would sooner commit seppuku than become a prisoner of war. At least then he wouldn't have to witness the aftermath of his defeat.

.

.

Octavia's eyes narrowed as she spotted Cyril's hulking silhouette through the mob that blocked her path. The ground splintered at her command, prompting the soldiers to scatter or risk being impaled by ascending chunks of earth. She kept her eyes fixed on Cyril as she raced along the newly forged ridge with Koga following close behind.

The warlock must have sensed her coming because he sealed his palms together and erected a barrier around himself. Not that it offered him much protection when it came to her. The shield shattered with a single flick of her wrist, and the pieces tumbled to the ground like shards of broken glass. To her surprise, he made no attempt to replace it. Cyril remained motionless – as if awaiting his fate – whilst she landed in front of him with her hands raised and glowing brightly.

His eyes looked unbearably sad as he stared at her, but his mouth stayed closed whilst she dissolved the remaining distance between them with her feet.

"You lied to me."

"Yes."

His honesty made her chest ache with pity. "Why?"

"It's a long story," he sighed. "And hardly apt for a battlefield. I'll tell you everything once this is all over—"

The words died in his throat, suffocated by Octavia's iron will. Her dancing fingers stagnated his breathing just enough to make him wheeze, and his face drained of colour whilst his body slowly drifted upwards. She ignored Koga's shouts of protest and concentrated on keeping Cyril suspended in the air like a week-old balloon that was struggling to stay airborne.

She'd never seen the 'levitate' mark in action before, but she'd memorised the strokes of countless mitama marks during her stay at the kasbah.

Unfortunately, simply knowing how to draw the marks wasn't enough to hold full mastery over them. The fact became painfully obvious when Cyril's body began to spasm uncontrollably. Her confidence wavered and she released her hold on him before the mark could do any lasting damage. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, so he didn't feel his ankle break underneath the weight of his body. The crunching of bones made her feel sick with remorse.

"What the hell did you do?" Koga asked, sounding panicked.

She couldn't bring herself to answer. She reached down to check Cyril's vitals, but stopped when the Tenseiga's barrier started to flicker in and out of existence. Glancing at the sword, she saw that it was shaking furiously. Not out of rage, she realised with a gasp. It was in pain.

Eventually, the sword ceased moving and went completely dark. All of her attempts to rouse it were in vain, for nothing she did seemed to reach it. The Tenseiga had somehow been compromised. And with it, so had her only protection against the ngea.

.

.

Sesshoumaru followed Tsunayoshi's line of vision to a spot on the battlefield, where Octavia and Koga were standing over Cyril's collapsed form. The usurper's lips curled upwards into a scowl, and his eyes blazed with killing intent. Sesshoumaru watched as he raised his free hand and closed it into a fist. Dark purple flames pirouetted around his fist like spinning knives. Sesshoumaru braced himself for the oncoming burst of fire, but nothing happened . . .

At least, not to him.

The Tenseiga's barrier dimmed as Tsunayoshi drained the sword's youki. Sesshoumaru's heart missed a beat. If he succeeded, the barrier would fail, and Octavia would be at the mercy of the ngea. He couldn't let that happen.

As if sensing his intentions, Tsunayoshi used his other hand to toss him out of the way before Sesshoumaru could even try to stop him. Sesshoumaru landed on his feet several yards away and slammed the Bakusaiga into the ground to steady himself. His gaze shifted to Octavia – who had seemingly caught onto what was happening – before returning to Tsunayoshi. The usurper locked eyes with him and shot him a mocking grin. Sesshoumaru's fangs lengthened as he ripped the Bakusaiga out of the ground and charged, intent on running him through with the blade.

He wasn't fast enough. The Tenseiga's barrier crumbled away into nothingness, leaving Octavia defenceless against the ngea.

Sesshoumaru roared in fury and swung the Bakusaiga at Tsunayoshi's head, but he leapt out of the way before the blade could strike its target. He laughed at the sight of Sesshoumaru's half-crazed expression and cracked the joints in his abnormally long fingers. Sesshoumaru envisioned twisting them off one by one.

"Such a pity," Tsunayoshi said once he'd finished laughing. "You aren't the only one who failed to live up to my expectations. I had high hopes for her, you know. Erem's Vessel is meant to be the most powerful mage in the world, so you can imagine my disappointment when she—"

"Goraishi!"

Spears of yellow lightning erupted from Koga's hand, effortlessly cutting through the reanimated corpses that surrounded him and Octavia. The wolf commanded the ancient weapon masterfully. Even Tsunayoshi looked impressed.

The ngea that were flying overhead wailed in excitement before performing nosedives. Their inky silhouettes plummeted to the ground like globules of sticky tar. Sesshoumaru gritted his teeth as they each launched themselves at Octavia, who batted them away with the 'shield' mark.

"Do you understand now?" Tsunayoshi asked.

Sesshoumaru glared at him. "Understand what?"

"How it feels when someone you love is about to die."

Sesshoumaru's patience had officially run its course. His youki shattered its restraints and tumbled out in waves. The whites of his eyes filled with crimson and his irises transformed from gold to sapphire, whilst his face elongated into the shape of a muzzle. Fur burgeoned across his skin and his hands morphed into huge, deadly paws.

His partial transformation delighted Tsunayoshi, who clapped his hands together like a child receiving a gift. "Incredible!" he cried. "So much for the ice prince of the west! You really are your father's son, aren't you?" His mouth twisted into a sneer. "For a creature who was supposedly born without a heart, you are so very emotional."

Sesshoumaru suddenly remembered Arashi's warning. The more you love others, the more they can hurt you. But as true as that may be, he knew now that it was better to have a broken heart than no heart at all.

Tsunayoshi's expression changed when he realised that Sesshoumaru wasn't going to engage with his taunting. "If you walk away now–" he said, "–the stronghold and its remaining lands will be mine by default. You will never again don the title of warlord. That is the price you must pay. And for what? A failure who can't even bring the light? She is unworthy of the sacred blood that flows through her veins—the very blood that sealed my mother's fate. She is nothing."

Sesshoumaru bared his teeth. "She is worth more than all of you combined."

"Don't be so absurd. Unlike you, I see the truth of the matter. Her precious god has abandoned her. There is nothing left but an empty shell. Your love has blinded you."

Maybe it had, but strangely enough, it didn't feel like a setback. In fact, he felt stronger than ever.

He lowered his sword. The ngea were still ramming themselves into the shield Octavia had summoned, and Koga's movements had become sluggish as he struggled to fend off the onslaught of corpses. Sesshoumaru watched as she drew a second 'shield' mark in the air with her less dominant hand, then used it to bash the ngea that were sneaking up on her from behind.

It all went downhill after that. The Goraishi stopped conducting lightning and Koga's legs gave out, causing him to fall onto his front like a tree that had been chopped down with an axe. The corpses pushed against Octavia's twin shields, fracturing them with the sheer force of their bodies until the magic that was holding them together finally cut out. She landed on her hands and knees whilst the herd of undead scurried towards her with their arms outstretched and mouths agape.

Sesshoumaru bounded forwards in a desperate attempt to reach her, but a burst of youki flung both him and Tsunayoshi far across the battlefield. He landed at the base of a slope in a pile of soot and bones, whereas Tsunayoshi landed somewhere on the Panther Tribe's row of cannons. Hauling himself into a sitting position, Sesshoumaru gazed up at the sky and saw that it was in an even worse state of disarray. It resembled an upside-down lake during the midst of a ferocious storm, complete with black crashing waves and several moderately sized twisters.

The ngea were reacting to a presence that had somehow managed to infiltrate their flock and wreak havoc from within. Their wild and erratic movements enabled him to pick out a shape that didn't quite belong, alongside a handful of distinguishing features. Fur like polished silver, eyes like freshly cut rubies, and a pair of long white ears that were unmistakably canine.

Sesshoumaru gasped.

His mother had entered the fray.

The hunters were about to become the hunted.

.

.