Dreamwalker by Mynameishuman
Fire and Ice
The world was on fire.
Wind blew the flames about wildly as amber eyes glanced around, uncaring.
While disorienting at first, Sesshomaru quickly became aware of his circumstances.
The flames were close, but didn’t touch him. Nor did he feel its heat.
The landscape was a familiar one.
The burning structure was once a symbol of great strength, and power: his late father’s fortress.
Sesshomaru hadn’t dreamt of this night in over a century – the night his great, and terrible father perished.
The night his half-brother was born.
Speaking of the mutt...
Sesshomaru adjusted his gaze toward the tree line. The flames parted allowing entrance to the last being he’d have expected to dream of.
Her clothing was fluid in the night breeze, floating around her ankles. The forest flames licked against her exposed arms.
Unbound, onyx hair wandered her body; a living thing with a sensual mind. It tempted his eyes to follow its movement over breasts, hips, stomach.
Bathed in firelight, her skin glowed, and the pure white of her long gown appeared pearlescent.
“You?” He questioned quietly, certain his eyes did not deceive him.
She advanced on him fluidly, confidence in every step of her bare feet.
Why would he dream of his half-brother's priestess? In a place such as this?
As if in a trance, his eyes followed her every move as she sauntered across what was once the courtyard toward him.
Flames surrounded them, though she hadn’t a care.
“Sesshomaru.” She stopped, an arms breadth between them, and gazed up at him with bright blue eyes.
He narrowed his own, and awaited her next move.
“Sesshomaru,” she repeated softly, her eyes finding the destruction surrounding them. Though it went unheard in the dreamscape, his father's estate collapsed to the forest floor, hot embers and ash swelling through the air like a cloud of gas. He heard her sigh. “Your dreams are... sad.”
“What would you know of my dreams, woman?”
Her empathy morphed into a secretive smirk as her eyes returned to his. She shrugged a dainty shoulder. “I hope to become well acquainted.”
The daiyoukai raised a brow before dismissing her entirely with a shake of his head.
Moving around her, he sought to leave the wreckage behind, heading toward the forest she’d recently exited.
Between blinking and sight, his surroundings transmuted.
No longer was he surrounded by flames, but a silent forest blanketed in white. The starlight lit the night, and unexpectedly the priestess stood before him again. The white of her kimono blended seamlessly with the snow.
Sesshomaru would admit that, at least in fire or in ice, she was pleasant to look at.
She was as a winter goddess in a tale meant to inspire a lesson of some sort: beware the bewitching ways of the delicate female, perhaps?
Why do I dream of her…
He contemplated this as he stopped before her. His eyes tracked her full, carmine lips as they pulled into that secretive smile once again.
“Why are you in my dream?” He wondered aloud.
“Why am I in your dream, Sesshomaru? Don’t you hate me?”
Hate…
“Hate is a bitter emotion; one I reserve for very few.”
She stepped closer to him, a look bordering on hunger overcoming her. “Am I one of the few?”
Canting his head, he observed her closely.
Was she?
In all honesty, she hadn’t crossed his mind much, though at one point she’d most certainly been on his shit list.
Little had changed for him since Naraku’s demise, though his disputes with Inuyasha and company had come to a rather abrupt end.
“No, you are not.”
Her face lit up like the full moon, his eyes narrowing in response.
“I’m glad.”
“Hn, as well you should be.”
The priestess smiled sweetly up at him before fading away, leaving him to linger on his own.
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