One Last History by Lady Symone

FORWARD / TRIALS

ONE LAST HISTORY

By Lady Symone

*****

Forward –

I have lived too long.

Even by the standards of my since-passed brethren, my time on this planet has been long. Unnatural. To humans, I am a God. Maybe it is just that I have wandered from place to place, one dirt road indistinguishable from the next – never settling, yet never weakening.

I do what pleases me and take what I want. I have traveled to far away places with exotic names, strange cultures, and seen things people couldn’t possibly imagine. I have witnessed the rise of cities and their demise, only to be inevitably replaced by the next great empire. I have been loved, betrayed, tortured, and victorious. I have experienced the ultimate despair.

Still, I wander through the labyrinth of history.

It is my duty as an old soul to write what you see before you: my life, my conquests, and even my innermost thoughts. People say that I am frigid, that I purposefully distance myself from others. They are not wrong. In fact it has long been a source of my pride. Gods are not hindered by petty emotions. However, thinking is one talent of many I possess. I have come across men who say reading and writing are thin gs that should be firmly placed within the realm of women. To them I say: ignorance breeds ignorance, and I have come across no such shortage of ignorance in my travels.

So these are my words – the words of a presence that has lived too long and seen too much. Heed them well. This is my story. I have no subsequent flourish or name. My father knew the day he named me that one word would suffice: Sesshoumaru.

A god among men? Perhaps.

***

Trials

My father made his intentions for my future clear when he named me Sesshoumaru. The Killing Perfection. The Destroyer of the Circle of Life. All my life I was primped, molded, and beaten into the image he wanted to see. If he were alive, he would say I am his finest achievement.

Though I do not doubt my mother played no small part in the naming process as well. Naming the first male heir is normally the man’s job, but my mother did not easily fall into the character of the desired Japanese wife.

My father, however, was the quintessential demon lord. His name inspired fear among enemy and allies alike. I recall he was a daunting figure in my life. Not always there, but stern, demanding, and never satisfied. He preserved the pretense as the man of the Western Lands meticulously. He was not what many would call generous, but the people of our lands never wanted for anything. As a small child, I both feared and revered him. He was the stuff of legends in my naïve eyes.

I know what a fool I was growing up now. I was blinded by the glittering façade that was my father, the warrior; so much so that I did not realize the stuff he was really made of: selfishness, greed, deceit, among other less desirable traits. He was just a man I was to find out later in my life, not the deity I held up on such a high pedestal. He was just a man with the same weak desires as humans.

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“Again!”

Sesshoumaru winced at his father’s tone. It was harsh and revealed his dissatisfaction.

He lifted the large, heavy sword over his head and began running through the set again. His muscles cried out in discomfort of being exerted for so hard and for long without a break, yet still he pressed on. He lead his body through the memorized motions, trying to make his movements quick, yet sharp; minimal, yet lethal. His father was his sensei and a master swordsman himself. Never before in his life had he wanted to impress his father more than now.

He ended the set with a sharp downward cut, panting heavily though he tried to stifle it. He remained still as he waited for his father’s critique. After a few moments of his father remaining silent, Sesshoumaru dared let his seven-year-old self think that perhaps his performance had been satisfactory. Maybe he’d even get a coveted praise?

His father circled around him, coming to a stop at Sesshoumaru’s back. Sesshoumaru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear. The tall demon knocked the back of his son’s knees sharply with his sheathed weapon.

“Sloppy,” he growled. “That was the most offensive display of swordsmanship I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing.”

“But I-”

“Silence!” His father roared. Sesshoumaru bit his tongue. “Do not forget your place, Sesshoumaru. As punishment, you will repeat that set one hundred times or until I deem it perfect.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Sesshoumaru said automatically. It was his duty as the oldest and only heir to be the model offspring: obedient, respectful, and quiet.

He began wielding the bamboo sword once more as his father’s critical eyes followed his every movement, judging, and barking out his errors from time to time.

“Pardon me, My Lord,” a servant said as he bowed deeply. Sesshoumaru’s father motioned the man to come closer. Sesshoumaru didn’t allow himself to be distracted. “There is a message for you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sesshoumaru saw his father take a piece of crudely made parchment, folded into a small square shape. He caught the scent of jasmine and lotus blossom – definitely a woman’s scent. But it wasn’t that of his mother’s. He frowned in his confusion as he brought the sword above his head.

“I shall return eventually,” his father stated after breaking the scarlet seal and scanning the note. “You will be continuing this when I return.” His ice-cold voice dared Sesshoumaru to question his motives. Sesshoumaru didn’t.

But had he known where his father was going and for what, as he found out much later, he might have questioned.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

So this has really been my labor of love for a while. I've always been interested in Sesshoumaru's story, so I figured why not write it myself? I chose this interesting format because I recently read "Becoming Madame Mao" and was BLOWN AWAY by Anchee Min's talent of changing perspectives in the middle of a chapter, but making it flow without confusion. I have kind of included that in this story by having part of each chapter written from Sesshoumaru's perspective looking back, and one memory of his from a narrator's perspective. It's actually really fun, and I've fallen in love with the results!

There won't be as much Sess/Kag romance in the beginning, but I will show her and the Inu-tachi from time to time. It will all make sense as the story progresses, I promise! 

Also! I would love to have feedback on this! I haven't read many stories about Sessh's childhood, let alone basing an entire story on him, so let me know if this interests you all! Thanks for reading! (Chapters will get longer)