Limerance ~Beyond the Feudal Fairy Tale~ by Kyndred Raven

Chapter 1

UPDATE 01/21/17: This story is being cleaned up and continued!

IMPORTANT NOTES ABOUT THE SETTING:

Nearly ten years have passed since Kagome first jumped through the well, and six since the evil Naraku's demise. The Jewel was not destroyed. The year is now 1556. Although peace now reigns in the land because Naraku is gone, the threat of the Jewel and the greed it breeds within the hearts of many still exists. Now is the time to wipe it out, and only Kagome can do so. 

I'd like my readers to try and imagine that Rin did not exist just yet. Imagine that our Sesshoumaru has gone through the epic story of Inuyasha as just himself, without experiencing that enigmatic compassion that he showed for his charge.  Around the time of Naraku's destruction, Sesshoumaru discovered the Bakusaiga and restored his arm. Now free of the need to possess the Tetsusaiga (a desire that has tormented him for years), he is able to move on to other goals. 

I hope you will enjoy the read and the adventure as you travel through this tale full of strife, passion, life, and feelings reaching across time itself. Reviews are always incredibly inspirational, and I cherish every single one. They help make all the time and effort spent completely worth it!

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-O-O-

Limerance

Chapter 1

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The priestess was crying.

Even from the great distance that Sesshoumaru stood from her, he could see the trails of tears shining in the fading sun. Her hair whipped around her face, thick bangs shielding her eyes from view. Dressed in red and black ceremonial robes, she seemed to float through a crowd of people, her sandaled feet not making a sound as they tread through the tall grass. She held her chin high, an elaborate golden headdress perched on the crown of her head. Deep rhythmic drumming accented her march through an open field, the atmosphere complimented by an artistic and hypnotic weaving of a soft koto and shamisen melody. Two women walked behind her, their heads lowered, an aura of sadness wrapped around them tighter than the sashes about their waists. 

The priestess had come to be a sacrifice, a willing lamb lead to a ritual that would consume her soul. Giving up her life so that the existence of a thousand others could be preserved was a natural decision – she had claimed. All the mortals involved expressed a great sorrow at the thought of losing her, yet did nothing to convince her to alter her course. Even those she traveled with for many years did nothing. They had all simply closed their eyes and deferred to her decision.

Curiously, the one that said the least in protest was his brother. For as long as Sesshoumaru had known the priestess, he had heard whispers of her close bond with Inuyasha. Countless times, he had seen her life be saved only thanks to the strength of her protector, and even though Sesshoumaru knew as little of love as he did of sentiment, he had grown to accept the rumors as truth. Now, however, that acceptance had been shaken. His troublesome brother had not taken any steps towards deterring the woman from her self-destructive course. He'd had nearly a week to do so; the ceremony was a complex one and required preparation. Using the Jewel of Four Souls was not a simple task and required much more substance than a single accidental incantation.

The fateful moment had come quickly. Many mortals had gathered; many demons of great stature and power had arrived. The Jewel had been a thorn in the side of fate for longer than they could all remember. Now that the time had come for it to pass into reluctant memory, the lure of witnessing its end had proven itself stronger than the various ambitions and duties the demon nobility held by privilege of birth. Now, they all stood by with baited breath to watch the priestess sacrifice herself for a pure wish.

The humans mourned the event to come. They clasped their hands together, some bending their knees and kneeling in prayer while others looked to the heavens and wept as the priestess walked towards an elaborate altar of stone. Their grief in the face of this event was a concept he had trouble understanding.

Was one life not worth a thousand others? Was one woman's passing a stirring enough thing to provoke such sorrow in so many? She was just one human – one priestess – one grain of sand in a desert full of dunes. Ordinarily, her death would not even cause a ripple in the fabric of all destiny; with her sacrifice, it could mean so much more. Now, at least, her demise would be honorable; possibly, she would even be remembered for many years to come.

At last, her long procession complete, the woman stopped in front of the altar. The music faded into silence. Behind her, the pair of female escorts bowed and retreated. The crowd looked on in utter stillness. As though awaiting her arrival, the grey clouds above the clearing parted to envelop the girl in the center with bright rays of sunlight.

With a swift movement, she untied the sash of her heavy ceremonial robes; they fell to the ground like leaves shed by a dying tree, pooling on the dewy grass in ripples of crimson silk. Beneath, she wore a thin yukata – purest white. She raised her arms to the sky, the Shikon a glimmering light in her palms. Her lips parted, but no words emerged.

All the humans dropped to their knees, and the sound of prayer reached his ears. An old woman stepped forward and formed a gesture of sealing before her.

"The priestess will now make the wish! May the Gods grant us fortune in destroying the Shikon no Tama once and for all!"

Conviction filled her voice, but Sesshoumaru’s sharp ears did not fail to hear the catch in it. A strong wind picked up, rustling the knee-length grass in the field. The trees in the forest surrounding it groaned and creaked as they swayed from side to side. The girl's lips parted farther, as if she was ready to speak; there was an odd thrumming in the air. The atmosphere shuddered with charged power, and as the tremors brushed against his skin, he suppressed a shudder of discomfort. He sensed the source was the girl's divine power.

"Stop!"

The sudden tear in the curtain of silence made him start. He looked towards the source of the strangled yell and saw his brother charging towards the girl. Several men jumped to stop the hanyou only to be thrown back; a monk who tried to restrain him was knocked down without mercy. Then, a woman with long brown hair – the demon slayer – was pushed aside. Finally, a large, feline demon rammed into him full force; his brother was momentarily immobilized, but it was enough of an opening for the others to jump in and restrain him further.

"Let me go! Kagome! Stop this! Stop!"

Inuyasha struggled beneath the huge cat demon's claws and his companions’ strength, anguish written all over his face. It was a countenance Sesshoumaru recognized with ease. Those eyes betrayed the same desperation every time their owner rushed to save the one he cared for. Every time the priestess’ life was in some sort of danger, that unseemly expression crossed his brother's face.

Disgusted with such a blatant display of weakness and loss of rationale, Sesshoumaru looked away. Despite the commotion, the priestess did not lose her focus. A light gathered around her, golden as the sunlight that caressed her skin. Although the wind got stronger and whipped her hair in various directions, he had yet to see her eyes.

Forgetting Inuyasha and his pathetic pleading, Sesshoumaru glided through the crowd in a circle until his view allowed him to see the Priestess from the front. He could not explain why he did so.

The moment was near; the Shikon’s energy peaked and spiked. The sounds of Inuyasha’s struggles continued, soon joined by shouting and cursing of his friends. Annoyed, he tuned them out, focusing all of his attention on the girl who now glowed like her very own sun. At last, she raised her chin, and her bangs floated upward, revealing all he wished to see.

Pale skin, soft rose-pink lips, cheeks stained by the tracks of tears, and eyes that were the color of the clearest lake. She was the epitome of selflessness, the scent of it seemed to permeate her very soul. Suddenly, she looked down and by some chance, her eyes found his. For a split second, his breath caught in his throat and a chill ran down his spine. He was certain that he would remember the poignancy of that moment for centuries.

"No! Please, no!" Inuyasha yelled.

It was over in a heartbeat. One moment, the girl stood there – radiant and alive – and the next, she was no more. A great wave blasted through the clearing, knocking down the humans and giving pause to all the demons.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The crowd began to gather its wits and regain its feet. Sesshoumaru sensed the transformation in the air as though it was a tangible sensation. The destruction of the Jewel was complete. Its sudden absence from the world felt as though a great flame had been put out. He'd never realized that he could always feel it in the back of his mind, but it had been such a natural part of the fabric of existence that he hadn’t recognized it as something out of the ordinary. Now, the void it left behind felt almost like a raw wound, the sort that would ache for some time before it finally healed.

In the place where the girl had stood, a great fire erupted. The humans ran – some screaming, some sobbing. In the commotion, the demons began to take their leave, one after another. He was not certain how much time passed – it could have been hours – but eventually, only his brother and his captors remained.

The cat demon finally released Inuyasha from his bondage and without a second's hesitation the half-demon sprang up to leap towards the fire. He stopped a hair's breadth short of touching it, falling to his knees and digging his claws into the grass. At that moment, another thing happened that Sesshoumaru would not ever forget. Lifting his face to the grey sky, his brother let out a piercing howl.

In his entire lifetime, Sesshoumaru had never heard such a sound. It was regret – it was sorrow, rage, need, and hatred. The sound moved through the clearing like a storm, dominating everything, even the rustle of the trees. The demon slayer flinched and turned to the monk, hiding her face against his chest.

All the while, the fire continued to burn, seeming to be bound to that one place. Nothing around it was touched; nothing else was affected. The half-demon sitting before it tore gouges into the earth – uprooting plants and running his claws through rock and mud until they bled. Eventually, the monk and demon slayer stood and dragged him from the flames. He was too far gone to put up any resistance.

When they faded from sight, Sesshoumaru lost sense of time. He thought to stay until the fire burned out, but the crimson flames showed no sign of weakness. At last, he moved forward, curious to see for himself what the fire felt like up close. With every step, the last image of the girl's blue eyes flashed in his vision, haunting him with frustrating persistence.

Why couldn’t he let go of that moment? Why did it cling to him with such intensity?

His brows furrowed, his mind retreating into deep thought. He stopped where his brother had stopped – just short of touching the flames. Looking deep into the fiery depths, he allowed himself to go over the events of the past day in his mind.

Perhaps it was the events of the night before the ceremony that were responsible. That evening, his curiosity had taken him on an exploration of the forest his brother had once claimed to be his own. It was there, nestled deep between an outcropping of three large rocks, that he found her bathing alone to purify her spirit.

Soft moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating her body beneath the rushing currents of a waterfall. Her head was tilted back, water trailing down her neck and flowing down to wrap around her. A mist gathered from the torrents clashing with the river at her feet, giving the entire picture an ethereal effect.

Despite her nakedness – despite the dips and curves that were vulnerable to his hawk-like golden gaze – the only element that caught his rapt attention was the color of her eyes. She was looking in his general direction, but her mind was focused elsewhere. It was enough to see the shadows moving in those large, blue, orbs to brand the instant deep into his memory.

Was that the reason he had needed to see those eyes before her end today? He was sure that he would never see such depth again.

Before his outreached hand, the mystical fire crackled and brought him back into the present. What use was thinking of the past unless there was something to be learned from it? In his long years, he’d never wasted a moment in regret of any of his actions. The woman was gone. She’d left behind a legacy, a tale of sacrifice that would live long past her meager human years. That was it, then. There was nothing more to see here. Giving the flames one last expressionless glance, he turned and began to walk away.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. He took no more than three steps when he felt the heat from the flames disappear. There was a hiss, and he smelled the scent of ash.

Keep moving – his instinct warned.

But, Sesshoumaru was not in the habit of denying himself any desire. The siren's call of sating his growing curiosity proved too alluring to resist. He turned, his gaze sliding to the ground where the fire had raged moments prior.

His heart stilled, his blood freezing in his veins.

Before him sat a child dressed in a white yukata with eyes as blue as the moonlight that had whispered against the bathing priestess’ skin. Its hair was the color of a raven's wing; its lips and cheeks were stained with the soft pink hue of cherry blossoms. The child's eyes bore into his; he was stunned into complete paralysis. With a soft sound, the creature stumbled to its little feet and took several, clumsy steps in his direction. It lifted its tiny hands towards him and took a small breath.

"Sesshoumaru…" it whispered with a voice as sweet as spring.

At that moment, he thought he'd faced a choice.

Later, he would understand that he'd really had none.