The Price of Vengeance by Fate

Prologue: Weakness

Prologue (Weakness)

"Why did my father's fang go to that half-breed, my younger brother?" SesshouMaru stared unseeingly out at the stunning vista before him, blind to the natural beauty that surrounded his castle. The Western Lands, his father's domain and his own inheritance, stretched before him as far as he could see, and yet he did not see, for his mind was elsewhere.

"Wha-What did you say, me lord?" Jaken, the three-clawed imp who followed him around like a scurrying rat, gasped as he scrabbled up the last of the stairs up to the Western Tower. The climb was a long one, and it was not often that the Lord of the Western Lands made his way up to the Tower. Only when his mind was troubled with some problem that he wanted to think on and sort through possibilities. The last time Lord SesshouMaru had mounted the steps to stare off unseeing into the land before him, he had been looking for his father's sword, Tetsusaiga. The same sword that had forsaken him for his puny half-brother, the hanyou InuYasha.

Silence greeted Jaken's question, and Jaken leaned wearily on his staff, wiping his sweating brow with the edge of his brown sleeve. He paused a moment before asking tentatively, "Master?"

"What is it, Jaken?" SesshouMaru showed more forbearance than normal, the unemotional quality of his voice sending chills down the imp's spine.

"I hate to disturb your venerable presence, me lord, but there is a matter grave enough that it needs your particular attention, Master." Jaken slavered, bowing awkwardly, the Staff of Skulls swinging wildly.

"What is it, Jaken?" The Lord's patience was wearing thin-the only hint was the slighter emphasis on the second word, and a slight narrowing of his golden eyes.

"Forgive me, Master! I am but the messenger!" Jaken said, prostrating himself, the Staff falling to the hard stone floor with a clatter.

"Jaken." The Lord said simply.

"Y-Yess, Master?" Jaken squeaked from the vicinity at his feet.

"Speak." The word was sent, sharp as a whip, and Jaken recoiled into a huddled ball on the floor.

"Yes, me lord! Forgive me, me lord!" At a low, barely heard growl, Jaken cowered backwards toward the escaping stairs, but spoke hastily. "There is a disturbance, me lord! At the edge of your lands! The demons there are restless, me lord! You have been gone for so long! And word of your illness has spread---"

"My illness?" SesshouMaru whipped around, glaring at the cowering imp.

"Y-Yess, me lord! Word has gone out about the loss of your arm, me lord, to that disgusting half-breed InuYasha."

The growl rumbled loudly in the echoing stone Tower, but SesshouMaru's voice was as calm and cold as ever. "I told you never to speak that name."

"Y-Yess, me lord! Forgive me, Master!" Belying the law of physics, Jaken managed to prostrate himself even more on the floor. The Lord stared at the terrified imp for a few moments before he settled for simply kicking his groveling servant down the stairs. A loud series of squawks and shrieks echoed up all four-hundred-and-thirty of the Tower's spiraling stairs amid the clatter of Staff and imp falling down every one of those steps. Chilly silence followed the abrupt departure, but SesshouMaru had already turned away to look out on his lands and holdings once again.

*So. They think to challenge me.* He contemplated the forests that stretched below him before curling his remaining hand into a fist. A breeze came up, pulling at his long, silver hair and the end of his tail. The flap of his left, empty sleeve in the wind seemed to laugh mockingly at him, and SesshouMaru contemplatively pulled open his kimono, looking dispassionately at the newly healed stump where his left arm used to be. Thankfully, he still had the shoulder and part of the upper arm. Although his own arm was lost forever, thanks to the mechanizations of his hanyou brother, he could still use the arm of another. His powers as a full youkai granted him the ability to do so. He already had an arm in mind that he could put to that particular use.

He smoothed down his robe once more and spread his remaining hand, studying it as a slight green glow began to emerge from between his claws. He watched dispassionately as his silver-white claws grew longer as the light glow condensed into a darker green-yellow mist. No one had challenged him in a long time. Ever since the defeat of his enemies when he had claimed the Western Lands as his inheritance upon his father's terrible death over seventy years ago, no one had dared. He had kept a tight reign over his lands, and enforced his laws quickly and ruthlessly, killing all who defied him. It was simply the way.

Now his enemies thought they might be able to prey on a weakness. Defeat at his half-bastard brother's hands was a bitter draught to swallow. InuYasha would pay for his insult in time. But for now, he had to deal with the annoyances on his border. He would make their defeat slow and painful, letting all know by the pain and humiliation and torture of a few, that he was still Taiyoukai of the West. And then they would die.

Molten eyes stared into the vast forests below him, a slight smile curving his lips.