Vestige by Rayne

Dream One: Preface

The human female solemnly whirled the extensive, lustrous katana with slender fingers to his vulnerable neck. Her calloused hands were obviously fatigued, but she gripped the sword with a master’s touch and a mistress’s impossible grace.

“What do you want?” he, Lord Sadao of the Southern Court, voiced the demand impartially as if he hadn’t beheld the killing blade at his throat. Being trained since he was but thirty seasons old, Lord Sadao held his red-eyed gaze with certain neutrality that was akin to boredom, even in the face of his latest assassin.

Eyes of endless blue seas exposed nothing of her rationality or reasoning behind the purposeful blade as she narrowed her gaze at him with cold indifference. The human-made blade abruptly broke his fox-demon skin, which was wholly surprising in itself as humane weapons would not – could not pierce youkai skin. Perhaps the sword was demonic then, even if Lord Sadao could not sense the acidity of youkai heritage. Which left but one, no, two thoughts:

How did this ningen acquire such a weapon?

And more importantly, how did this ningen female get into his personal chambers without a sound or smell that his kitsune ears and/or nose could not pick up?

Curious crimson eyes met collected azure orbs, “I will repeat but once onna, what is it that you want?” Although he was irate and confused by the circumstances, his curiosity of the female in his presence overruled his thousand-year-old mind, even though he knew his life was (more or less) in the hands of this female human.

He expected a choppy, typical human-village voice and was openly shocked to hear a melodious, refined courtesan’s velvety tone, “I want nothing but my son back, Sadao,” she hissed quietly, almost so that his demonic ears could not hear the sharply cutting words. Then, right before his very eyes, she instantly switched to a manner that coordinated with her neutral countenance within his blink, “Where have you put him?”

Confusion enveloped the kitsune-youkai Lord with ease, “Pardon?”

Her long, dark lashes delicately stroked her high cheekbones peeking from her tall collar as she blinked once. Angry, white lightning struck from the crying heavens from his bedchamber window, and the supposedly night-black, high-collar mantle that concealed the woman’s face was revealed to be of a more shadowy-violet hue. Underneath her masking cloak – which was cut abruptly at her (notable) chest – was a hybrid of a Taijiya’s combat outfit, made from a Miko’s garb, and a Mainland-ish assassin’s ensemble. Lord Sadao raised a thin, auburn brow. Was she not from these lands, and of the overseas? Though she does not seem to be of Chinese descent –

“My son,” she cut in harshly, “Do not lie when I know of the Southern insignia on those kidnapper’s shoulders. I have memorized each cardinal direction symbol for the Clans: Waning Moon, Setting Sun, Rising Star and Imbuing Void,” she spat the last word, as if it had a bad taste, and Lord Sadao noticed that her once calm exterior was deteriorating to evident anger.

The blue-eyed onna continued, “I have many friends from each Clan but yours, and for that I am now grateful, considering your lot is such a disgrace.”

That angered Lord Sadao with satisfaction on her part, “How dare you. Do not patronize my Clan onna. Fox youkai are swift, intelligent and deadly creatures of the most noble breeds – unlike your demeaning, low-class ningen blood. You yourself are an insolent fool for thinking of us to be as dastardly as for abducting a lesser offspring.”

The female intruder waved off the uncouth remark with a stare, an evidently confused stare, “On the contrary Sadao-dono,” he took note of the ningen onna’s sudden respect, “I approve of the kitsune breed as a whole. In fact,” the raven-haired woman lowered her blade, “the son I am speaking of is a full-fledged red-fox demon.”

Lord Sadao narrowed his gaze in puzzlement, “How is it that your son is full-fledged? You are a ningen of Miko blood and I smell no impurity from you.” He had only just realized the scent of purity on her when she retracted the slight blue luminosity from the katana, opening her retreating aura towards her glowing hands. Lord Sadao frowned, irritated that he somehow mistook priestess powers to one of a demon’s. It was unheard of. Yet, the blue glow that once emanated from the blade did not smell of the purity of Miko or the acidity of youkai. Truly, her power was remarkable in and of itself.

He broke out of his ponderings as she spoke almost disconcertedly, “Then it is true? You have not heard of me?”

His auburn brow twitched, and he crossed his arms, “Yes, am I supposed to know all the names of the killers assigned to me?”

“No,” she said with a cock of her raven-head. It looked so innocent for an assassin such as her, “But I would think you would know of my name, my reason and my purpose of being here. The captors of my son clearly stated that if I do not give certain… things to them, they would kill him on the behalf of Lord Sadao of the Southern Lands. Were they lying?”

Lord Sadao’s irritation subsided and confusion took over once again, “Captors? I have not dispatched such men, nor have I had any need to since my father’s ruling time.”

“Weird, this isn’t right,” her mannerisms altered from a noblewoman’s speech to something else, an odd discourse at best. It was affirmative that she was not of these lands, that Lord Sadao was sure of. At least, not of the Southern Court.

Lord Sadao sighed, and decided to take a gamble, “Woman, perhaps we should sit this out and talk. It is in my best interests and yours if you do not take my life so that we both may get some answers.” Of course, the ningen never had the chance to truly take his life. Lord Sadao had had many assassination attempts sent onto him before, and it was just unwarranted curiosity that stopped him from swiftly slaying the woman before him. She was the first female, not to mention first ningen, directed at his life.

Suddenly he was glad that he had decided to play along for the first minutes of his ‘destined hour.’

The onna slipped her elongated katana to her scarf-like obi, pausing only slightly, “Yeah, I guess so.” She nodded absently as if to confirm to herself, before pulling her high ponytail out, freeing her liquid ebony tresses with strange grace and lowering her high-collar mantle to present an alabaster, heart-shaped face. Truthfully, in Lord Sadao’s eyes, her aristocratic features could have rivalled that of a demoness or goddess’ own.

“What is it shall I call you?” he asked curiously, now that he no longer bore any ill intentions towards the Miko-assassin.

She smiled kindly, and it in fact did suit her features.

“Kagome.”