Into the Heart of Darkness [Inuyasha; Koga, PG-13]
Title: Into the Heart of Darkness
Author: Ren
abraxas_ren
Summary: While chasing an enemy through the jungle, Koga comes face to face with destiny….
Fandom: Inuyasha
Character: Koga
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Original Story: “Advent” by
prpl_pen (http://prpl-prose.livejournal.com/7664.html#cutid1)
Koga readied the spear. His hands gripped it tightly. His fingers wrapped about it firmly. As he examined the weapon, he noted its rough, imperfect edges, its length and thickness, its virginal, sharp tip.
The wolf grunted; he was self-reliant and did not carry a weapon. He believed a warrior was a master of what Nature endowed. Claws, teeth and, especially, wits were made of sterner stuff. Anything as breakable as a weapon was a crutch to a warrior.
He would have ventured into the woods without that spear but Ginta and Hakkaku impelled him to be cautious. And he could not refute the logic of it. The situation was new and different - dangerous - it would be foolish to be unprepared.
Nobody knew what the enemy was. True and absolute knowledge of its identity was lost either to the victims who did not survive or to the insane who saw and lived to be disbelieved. It was rumored to emerge out of air and melt into oblivion. Shapeless, formless, it was like an idea of evil that had been given existence by powers beyond earthly comprehension. Such an enemy could not be trusted.
Koga lowered the spear. He softened his hold upon its shaft knuckle by knuckle. And he exhaled a long, deep breath. He was calm. Despite the bleak night. Despite the desolate forest. And an enemy that lurked about the shadows - if, indeed, it were not the darkness itself - in spite of everything the demon was as calm as a monk at prayer. Even his heart did not skip a beat.
Yet as he stood, soaking in the details of the environment, he became aware of a danger as unexpected as a bolt from the blue. How long had it been? How long? How long had it been since the last wolf called?
“Funuke!” he shouted. His voice echoed through the trees, its cascade broke the silence that enveloped him. “Funuke?”
No! Koga shook a fist as the thought materialized. He railed against the notion as if it were the enemy. That was not fear that tainted his voice!
“Damn it!” he voiced aloud. “Where’s Funuke? Coward!”
These were dangerous times. Dangerous and uncertain times. There had been centuries of war as avians and humans encroached into lupine territory. And if that were not enough now the enemy was added into the mix.
What was it, anyway, what was it? Real or imagined? An enemy of flesh and blood - native of the world - or a sick and perverted invention of hysteria that someway, somehow gained life?
Who could say but the dead who were silent and the insane who were doubted? All that was known to be true came from the remains of the rampages.
“Funuke.”
The wolf did not realize until that moment, that instant, there would not be a reply. Funuke was not about to give away his own, safe and secret location. Angered by that betrayal of trust, he dared to tread deeper and deeper still into the realm of the beast. Until, again, he was by Lord Kano.
As the wind stiffened, branches fluttered and leaves rattled. Gaps through the canopy of the forest appeared and vanished intermittently. The variance was slight yet enough to wash the world with that light of the moon that filtered through the trees.
At first, the evidence of the intrusion was a lack of insects. It was remarkable but the omen was neither understood nor appreciated by the pack. Instead, there was a misguided relief to be free of pests. But the price to pay for the convenience proved to be too great when the enemy made a clear and definite impression of its presence: it stalked prey that would be noticed.
Hunters were concerned about deer: the supply declined steadily. Other animals and birds were scarce. Day by day, the woodland silenced as the enemy advanced. It flexed its powers, freely and unchecked, until it claimed demons among its victims.
If the thing were just a beast that a few accidentally stumbled into then it would not have mattered. Yet as incident piled upon incident, a pattern could not be denied. It was not coincidence but design. It was encroaching into the world of the wolves and it was growing stronger - bolder -
Suddenly the shadow and darkness evaporated. The forest was illuminated by the starlight. He realized that reversal of fortune would not last; without a thought, he took off into the wilderness, letting his instinct guide his path.
Something begged to be done.
The war with the avians resumed and the wolves could not afford a fight with another devious enemy. Too many lives had been taken. The fate of the tribe was threatened.
Earlier that evening, when the leaders met with the pack, Lord Kano announced his intent to track and kill the enemy before it struck again. All the while he trekked about the wilderness, the image could not be forgotten, the sight of Lord Kano’s strength and determination. It was so great that he could not fail it; he knew then and there that he would have followed the wolf prince into hell if ordered.
Men of action were required and Koga did not hesitate to volunteer.
Other wolves volunteered for Lord Kano’s hunt but as the party progressed into the wilderness, the demon noticed the scents of those young and able men vanished. Only Funuke’s trail remained. That sly, treacherous demon who was goaded into the gang. If anyone could find a way to survive, it would be Funuke.
Droplets of mist shimmered amid starlight. Water trickled from finger-like leaves onto parched, arid soil. The splatter of those taps formed a rhythm entirely and uniquely its own.
At last - at last -
“Koga!” It was his leader, his alpha. “Koga, come quickly.”
With the sound of the voice calling him, begging him to be near, all fear vanished and a peculiar, inexhaustible strength emerged. He knew where to go, what to do, though the geography of the land was unknown. Again, it was instinct that carved a path through the forest.
Koga replied with his presence.
The wolf found the prince by a brook. The mist of the water blanketed the scene; it reached up from his feet to his knees. All the while, the young, noble figure gazed across at the distance, at someone or something upon the other side of the stream. What ever it was could not have been more than a wolf’s length away but the expanse was so enshrouded by the fog it could have been at the far side of the world.
“Lord Kano?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
The leader raised his arm and with his fingers directed his follower to his side. The youthful, blue-eyed demon maneuvered through the foliage, cautiously and carefully, such that not a trace of a sound could be discerned. Then, when beta stood by alpha, together they peered through the mist.
Within the fog, the hints, the outlines of it could be seen.
“What do you think, Koga?” asked Lord Kano.
Koga sniffed the air. The water masked the odor of death but, faint as it was, it could not be denied. It was blood. Freshly spilt blood.
“A kill. A deer,” replied the wolf.
“What were those rumors? That there’s not a scent of man or demon; just the blood of the victim.” The leader sighed and glanced at the follower, “It’s as if the idea of death alone killed it.”
With their weapons at their sides, they crossed the stream. Lord Kano faced forward while Koga faced backward; together their eyes scanned the whole of the scene. They found the carcass upon the banks. It had been a deer; it was now and forever a mass of flesh, crushed and torn as if burst. The entrails had been consumed either by the enemy or by the water.
“Lord Kano, what if it’s a marker? I mean, what if this is how it marks its territory?”
The wolf prince nodded.
“It’s senseless, Koga. Animals are not like us, they behave in logical and reasonable ways. But this thing, this thing, it toys with us. Life means nothing to it.” Lord Kano poked the butt of his sword into the remains, “It practices; it tests the limits of its strength.”
The remains of the rampage trickled into the brook bit by bit.
“Always know your enemy. Know who or what your enemy is.” He paused and looked about that land of the midnight sky. “Only your enemy gains advantage when you fight it blindly.”
Koga examined a severed limb. He raised it up to his face to see if there were claw or tooth marks or anything that could have identified the killer. There was not even the residue of the enemy. But it was what his hand sensed that shocked him.
“It’s still warm, Lord Kano,” he announced.
“I know,” he replied. “It’s here. Here. Right here.”
Lord Kano sheathed his sword and loosened his armor.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be armed, Koga,” he joked.
Koga smiled and rested the spear upon his shoulder - the tip of the weapon intermingled with his wild, black hair.
“Ginta and Hakkaku insisted,” he explained.
“They worry about you,” Lord Kano said - he held onto Koga’s shoulders - he was about to speak when he looked away and moved toward the source of a disturbance.
Funuke entered.
“I heard the call,” the old wolf told the young demon. “Sorry I didn’t reply.”
Koga nodded.
“Where were you, Funuke?” asked Lord Kano.
Koga ignored the conversation; he did not expect an answer that could be believed.
The reply was as immediate as if it had been scripted, “I was tracking a trail of blood, human blood, Lord Kano.”
The wolf prince raised an eyebrow.
“Although, I don’t know why there would be a human deep within lupine territory.”
“Famines, wars, ignorance. What does it matter why?”
“And I see it was busy tonight.”
Koga noted Funuke’s icy cold indifference at the sight of the carcass.
“A big kill. A fresh kill,” he added dispassionately.
Lord Kano stood with his hand on his sword.
“It wasn’t eaten,” the older, more cautious of the wolves continued and concluded, “A waste.”
“Yes, a waste,” the younger, more fearless of the pack agreed.
“What do you think, Koga?” Lord Kano asked as if he did not know the answer already.
“It lacks a scent of anything unusual; it’s a fresh kill so there should be something but there isn’t as much as a trace of the hunter.”
“If the enemy’s endowed with a scent then this thing must be quite utterly natural. A natural and normal part of the environment. Otherwise, if it were a human or a demon, it would be noticed.”
“You think it could be an animal?” Funuke asked abruptly. “An animal, like any other animal?”
“But what sort of animal, native to the forest, could be responsible?” Koga thought aloud.
“What it is, is to be proved.” The alpha turned to the beta, “Do you see it?”
Koga gulped. Lord Kano said it was here, he thought silently, but could it be here? Literally, here?
“If it’s native, aren’t we within its territory?” Funuke stammered.
“Lupine territory,” Lord Kano corrected.
“Lord Kano, we should be reasonable; if it leaves no trace, if it kills for sport -”
Koga combed the ground. There was no trail but there was something that suggested a path. He reasoned that a predator would not expend too much effort by taking paths that were not straightforward. If it were after prey then it would not be prudent to waste time and energy by taking false turns, dodging trees and rocks and climbing steep hills. It would be true, especially, if the deer had been killed for sport.
He guessed the path to be along smooth and clean terrain. Where there were no obstacles. Where it was easy to move about, back and forth. He traced that path with such single-minded determination that he did not notice how far he veered away from Lord Kano. That he did not notice how deep he stumbled into the wilderness. And he would have been careful but there was a point within the trail where the temptation against caution could not be resisted.
Koga stood again and again clutched the weapon.
The demon sensed the blood of a human and it was close.
“Lord Kano,” he called - as he should have called when he realized his vulnerability.
The trail of blood, that had been random splatters here and there, pooled to be soaked up by the forestry. And there was a mound of shrubbery that had been torn off of its roots and entangled into a blanket. The web-work of leaves and branches shivered - what was beneath the mound was still alive and its panicked, mindless motion rattled the vegetation.
Nearing the pile, he kicked it and the underbrush tumbled away to reveal the enemy’s latest, mortal victim.
The man’s face was cloaked by blood. He was not dressed like a warrior. He could have been a villager. Or a traveler. A very, very lost traveler.
“It’s your human, Funuke,” Lord Kano stated while approaching the incoherent victim.
The man was thoroughly unaware of his surroundings and its demons.
From a distance a single, distressed wolf bayed - the yelp was silenced mid-syllable.
“It’s here,” the human stammered. “It’s here, it’s here! It’s after me - run!”
“Did you see it?” Koga asked. He did not approach the human lest that reveal his heritage and agitate the victim. The man might not survive the shock of it.
“The teardrops! Everywhere! It’s not of this world -”
The man, seeing what only existed within his mind, screamed and staggered away from the shadows into the darkness. He got up and fell down across the trunk of a tree. Again he struggled to his feet and again he stumbled. All the while he glared into the distance and pointed and shouted about teardrops.
“What, wait, what did it look like?” Koga asked as he inched toward the human. “What did it sound like?”
“Koga, wait,” said Lord Kano as he held the wolf by the shoulder.
“It’s the teardrops! It’s the teardrops!”
The human screamed. He hid his face below his arms and the wolves saw those bloody stumps of melted flesh and bone that remained of his hands. Somehow, someway, through an act of super human will, the man returned to his feet and ran away, wailing about teardrops as he vanished into the forest, thoroughly divorced from reality.
Lord Kano was disturbed and Koga was upset all the while Funuke stood silent, alternating his gaze between that pool of blood and that space within the void where the human seemed to think the enemy lurked.
“Let him go, Koga. Even if he answered you, you couldn’t trust the description.”
“But -”
“No doubt he saw it but it shattered his mind -”
“Maybe - let’s go back for more men,” Funuke suggested unexpectedly.
“Damn it,” Koga whispered - but across the silence that overcame the world right then and there those whispers resembled screams.
At that moment, at that instant, they knew they were in the presence of the enemy. Standing there, though, it was impossible to know where the world ended and the beast began. They did not see it, not even its shadow; they saw its effect only. The rattle of vines passed for the sight of its arms and legs. The sway of branches, the snapping of twigs, was substitute for the measure of its body.
Wherever eyes looked it had been there and just passed. And it was everywhere, from left to right, forward and backward, and above - above.
It was above them. Koga knew but could not explain it. He struggled but could not force the will to see. It was too horrible a thing to do - to look - and confirm every last suggestion of fear within his body. It would have been a failure to Lord Kano if he allowed that catastrophe. But if he did not look was it not, already, the sign of a coward?
Biting his lip and clutching his weapon until it groaned within his grasp, Koga looked and, although there was nothing to be seen, it was a victory of mind over body.
“It’s running that way! It’s going that way!” Lord Kano shouted. And as soon as he uttered those words, he followed the enemy. “Koga, come with me!”
“Lord Kano!” he shouted instinctively. “Lord Kano!” The demon searched about the clearing yet he could not find the figure of the wolf prince. The leader was gone and the follower was lost.
But Funuke remained unaffected.
“Wait, Koga, wait, we can’t fight this,” the old, jittery wolf said.
“What are you talking about?” Koga asked, disturbed by the tone of the demon.
“We need more men,” he explained, growing at last more panicked and afraid. “We are too few, too weak, Koga.”
Funuke grasped Koga’s wrist as tightly as Koga grasped the spear.
“Koga, I need you!” echoed the voice of his alpha, his leader.
“We have to do it ourselves, alone,” he spat at Funuke. “Lord Kano! I’ll be there! I’m coming!”
“It’s crazy, insane! This thing - this enemy - what did it do? It hasn’t affected us. I don’t know anyone who’s been killed or maimed. And I haven’t noticed that food is scarce. It isn’t our enemy, Koga, it isn’t our problem.”
“Let me go!” Koga struggled against Funuke’s vice-like grip. He aimed the tip of the spear against the neck of his very own kind. “You may not think your tribe is worth your life but I’m not you!”
The grip vanished and with its passing the wolf ran into the forest.
“Lord Kano!” the demon shouted. “I will find you!”
Koga struggled to keep pace through that unknown and deadly territory. The sound of the fight - a mixture of sword-strikes and hisses - always seemed to be just out of reach within the forest. He cursed that despite his frenzy he was too slow.
Koga would have given his soul to be fast enough to be by his commander.
He reached the field and froze. It was a chasm formed by trees whose branches had been entangled into a framework like a spider’s web. The canopy formed by those leaves masked the light of the stars above. Below the dark and shadowy earth was rocky and uneven and suffocated by a fog of onyx.
And then a strange, eerie sight emerged into view. Before him was Lord Kano. The wolf prince was caught in the act of slicing the air with his sword. Around his figure were trunks of trees, silent and immovable, yet bathed by a kind of ethereal, red glow. Beyond that world, vision melted into oblivion, a void that eyes could not penetrate.
That, all of that, Koga saw but what he could not see was the enemy.
He growled and stormed into the fray - he pierced the air above with the tip of the spear -
Lord Kano’s aim was also directed upward -
But he did not feel anything until he was at arm’s length to his commander: then and there, when he lunged, he felt it.
There was not a moment to lose for immediately after that shock a new and different kind of terror befell the wolf demon. What unfolded - he could not accept it - it seemed to be impossible. How could it be true? In what universe could it be true?
Lord Kano swung. And, just when the sword connected, something struck the wolf prince. The katana was tossed away by the force of the impact. Even before the weapon careened against the rocks, Lord Kano was struck, again. The figure faded into a visage of blood and flesh - torn and shredded as if a thousand blades exploded upon his face. There was not as much as a scream while the body, most surely dead, fell onto its knees and toppled into the earth.
Koga never felt such a mixture of sickness and rage.
He scrambled into the pit. He thrust the spear into the enemy whose outlines were revealed by the blood splatter of its noble victim. A ghastly sight was unmasked by the wound. The blow was followed by a strike that knocked him against the rocks. Only the action of his hands against the stones saved him from the doom of the concussion.
He cursed again.
The spear was stuck within the enemy. The wound it opened trickled a thin, putrid blood upon the body of Lord Kano. But he was helpless as long as the weapon remained impaled in the beast. Yet he was confident and desperate. Desperate, for death could have come at any moment from any direction. Confident because he knew the enemy could be killed. Despite its mythic status endowed by rumor, it was as real as anything earthly was real; he proved that by damaging it.
So, if it would be harmed, could it not be killed?
Koga stood ready to charge back into the fight. To reach the spear. To tear the rent until either he or the enemy or both were dead. And he was about to act when, by accident of perspective, he saw the teardrops.
There were three teardrops. They shimmered from their own internal light. They burned shades of a deep, smoky red that could be mistaken for drops of blood. But they were imperfect as if they were tiny fragments broken off a larger whole. And they floated above the ground.
As they moved, he noticed they were not free but attached onto something, something that was part of the enemy.
Perhaps, he thought, an important part of the enemy.
He recalled Lord Kano’s sword; it was by the rocks at his feet.
“Just this once,” he whispered as he grabbed the hilt of the katana.
Quickly, while the enemy was distracted by the spear, he lunged into the space about the teardrops and sliced across the flesh of the beast. That portion of the body with the shards tumbled beside Lord Kano. From its stump shot a spray of blood and light. Red light. Bright enough to be like sunset. It illuminated the scene and revealed to the wolf the nature of the thing.
The demon ran toward the wound breached by the spear. The move was too late, however, as the enemy underwent a transformation. It shrunk. Its legs flailed and whipped about frantically. The wolf was tossed aside by its limbs as it resumed its natural state.
Sitting up, his eyes aided by the glow of the shards, he saw it. Before it scampered into the forest to be lost forever - and oblivious to the danger of the contact - he grasped it tightly by its abdomen. Internal juices oozed out of the scar as the creature flailed its head and legs.
“But, at the end, you were the enemy?”
Koga could not believe it. The thing was a large, hairy spider. He thought about crushing it, to avenge all of the deaths it caused, yet to think that the danger had been caused by a spider -
He dropped it and it scampered away. It was as good as dead anyway. Missing a leg, bleeding. It emerged out of Nature’s womb and into Earth’s tomb it returned.
Only the leg and the teardrops remained. And to keep them from causing damage again he clawed the shards out of the flesh. Like the creature, the appendage shrunk and vanished into the litter.
Koga knelt by the body of his commander. He had suspected but that incident revealed the truth of what it meant to be a warrior. Now, at last, he could not imagine anything as noble as to live and die for the pack. If he were to become a leader then death would be his fate.
But maybe it did not have to be that way.
The shards gave the spider power. It used that power unwisely but it could not be blamed - it did what it always did - it continued to be a spider. If the shards gave the lowliest of creatures such strength could it not give him that same, exact ability? If he used the ability for a better purpose? To protect the wolves from the avians?
Or what if the shards fell into the hands of a villain? Or a self-important scoundrel - like Funuke?
And where was Funuke? he wondered. What did he see? What did he know?
And then a certain, unnatural, idea gained realization. The effects he had been given by birth, his strength and determination, would they not be enhanced by the shards? Little by little, moment by moment, the sharp, cold fragments of the jewel begged to be stabbed into his flesh…
Author: Ren
abraxas_ren
Summary: While chasing an enemy through the jungle, Koga comes face to face with destiny….
Fandom: Inuyasha
Character: Koga
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Original Story: “Advent” by
prpl_pen (http://prpl-prose.livejournal.com/7664.html#cutid1)
Koga readied the spear. His hands gripped it tightly. His fingers wrapped about it firmly. As he examined the weapon, he noted its rough, imperfect edges, its length and thickness, its virginal, sharp tip.
The wolf grunted; he was self-reliant and did not carry a weapon. He believed a warrior was a master of what Nature endowed. Claws, teeth and, especially, wits were made of sterner stuff. Anything as breakable as a weapon was a crutch to a warrior.
He would have ventured into the woods without that spear but Ginta and Hakkaku impelled him to be cautious. And he could not refute the logic of it. The situation was new and different - dangerous - it would be foolish to be unprepared.
Nobody knew what the enemy was. True and absolute knowledge of its identity was lost either to the victims who did not survive or to the insane who saw and lived to be disbelieved. It was rumored to emerge out of air and melt into oblivion. Shapeless, formless, it was like an idea of evil that had been given existence by powers beyond earthly comprehension. Such an enemy could not be trusted.
Koga lowered the spear. He softened his hold upon its shaft knuckle by knuckle. And he exhaled a long, deep breath. He was calm. Despite the bleak night. Despite the desolate forest. And an enemy that lurked about the shadows - if, indeed, it were not the darkness itself - in spite of everything the demon was as calm as a monk at prayer. Even his heart did not skip a beat.
Yet as he stood, soaking in the details of the environment, he became aware of a danger as unexpected as a bolt from the blue. How long had it been? How long? How long had it been since the last wolf called?
“Funuke!” he shouted. His voice echoed through the trees, its cascade broke the silence that enveloped him. “Funuke?”
No! Koga shook a fist as the thought materialized. He railed against the notion as if it were the enemy. That was not fear that tainted his voice!
“Damn it!” he voiced aloud. “Where’s Funuke? Coward!”
These were dangerous times. Dangerous and uncertain times. There had been centuries of war as avians and humans encroached into lupine territory. And if that were not enough now the enemy was added into the mix.
What was it, anyway, what was it? Real or imagined? An enemy of flesh and blood - native of the world - or a sick and perverted invention of hysteria that someway, somehow gained life?
Who could say but the dead who were silent and the insane who were doubted? All that was known to be true came from the remains of the rampages.
“Funuke.”
The wolf did not realize until that moment, that instant, there would not be a reply. Funuke was not about to give away his own, safe and secret location. Angered by that betrayal of trust, he dared to tread deeper and deeper still into the realm of the beast. Until, again, he was by Lord Kano.
As the wind stiffened, branches fluttered and leaves rattled. Gaps through the canopy of the forest appeared and vanished intermittently. The variance was slight yet enough to wash the world with that light of the moon that filtered through the trees.
At first, the evidence of the intrusion was a lack of insects. It was remarkable but the omen was neither understood nor appreciated by the pack. Instead, there was a misguided relief to be free of pests. But the price to pay for the convenience proved to be too great when the enemy made a clear and definite impression of its presence: it stalked prey that would be noticed.
Hunters were concerned about deer: the supply declined steadily. Other animals and birds were scarce. Day by day, the woodland silenced as the enemy advanced. It flexed its powers, freely and unchecked, until it claimed demons among its victims.
If the thing were just a beast that a few accidentally stumbled into then it would not have mattered. Yet as incident piled upon incident, a pattern could not be denied. It was not coincidence but design. It was encroaching into the world of the wolves and it was growing stronger - bolder -
Suddenly the shadow and darkness evaporated. The forest was illuminated by the starlight. He realized that reversal of fortune would not last; without a thought, he took off into the wilderness, letting his instinct guide his path.
Something begged to be done.
The war with the avians resumed and the wolves could not afford a fight with another devious enemy. Too many lives had been taken. The fate of the tribe was threatened.
Earlier that evening, when the leaders met with the pack, Lord Kano announced his intent to track and kill the enemy before it struck again. All the while he trekked about the wilderness, the image could not be forgotten, the sight of Lord Kano’s strength and determination. It was so great that he could not fail it; he knew then and there that he would have followed the wolf prince into hell if ordered.
Men of action were required and Koga did not hesitate to volunteer.
Other wolves volunteered for Lord Kano’s hunt but as the party progressed into the wilderness, the demon noticed the scents of those young and able men vanished. Only Funuke’s trail remained. That sly, treacherous demon who was goaded into the gang. If anyone could find a way to survive, it would be Funuke.
Droplets of mist shimmered amid starlight. Water trickled from finger-like leaves onto parched, arid soil. The splatter of those taps formed a rhythm entirely and uniquely its own.
At last - at last -
“Koga!” It was his leader, his alpha. “Koga, come quickly.”
With the sound of the voice calling him, begging him to be near, all fear vanished and a peculiar, inexhaustible strength emerged. He knew where to go, what to do, though the geography of the land was unknown. Again, it was instinct that carved a path through the forest.
Koga replied with his presence.
The wolf found the prince by a brook. The mist of the water blanketed the scene; it reached up from his feet to his knees. All the while, the young, noble figure gazed across at the distance, at someone or something upon the other side of the stream. What ever it was could not have been more than a wolf’s length away but the expanse was so enshrouded by the fog it could have been at the far side of the world.
“Lord Kano?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
The leader raised his arm and with his fingers directed his follower to his side. The youthful, blue-eyed demon maneuvered through the foliage, cautiously and carefully, such that not a trace of a sound could be discerned. Then, when beta stood by alpha, together they peered through the mist.
Within the fog, the hints, the outlines of it could be seen.
“What do you think, Koga?” asked Lord Kano.
Koga sniffed the air. The water masked the odor of death but, faint as it was, it could not be denied. It was blood. Freshly spilt blood.
“A kill. A deer,” replied the wolf.
“What were those rumors? That there’s not a scent of man or demon; just the blood of the victim.” The leader sighed and glanced at the follower, “It’s as if the idea of death alone killed it.”
With their weapons at their sides, they crossed the stream. Lord Kano faced forward while Koga faced backward; together their eyes scanned the whole of the scene. They found the carcass upon the banks. It had been a deer; it was now and forever a mass of flesh, crushed and torn as if burst. The entrails had been consumed either by the enemy or by the water.
“Lord Kano, what if it’s a marker? I mean, what if this is how it marks its territory?”
The wolf prince nodded.
“It’s senseless, Koga. Animals are not like us, they behave in logical and reasonable ways. But this thing, this thing, it toys with us. Life means nothing to it.” Lord Kano poked the butt of his sword into the remains, “It practices; it tests the limits of its strength.”
The remains of the rampage trickled into the brook bit by bit.
“Always know your enemy. Know who or what your enemy is.” He paused and looked about that land of the midnight sky. “Only your enemy gains advantage when you fight it blindly.”
Koga examined a severed limb. He raised it up to his face to see if there were claw or tooth marks or anything that could have identified the killer. There was not even the residue of the enemy. But it was what his hand sensed that shocked him.
“It’s still warm, Lord Kano,” he announced.
“I know,” he replied. “It’s here. Here. Right here.”
Lord Kano sheathed his sword and loosened his armor.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be armed, Koga,” he joked.
Koga smiled and rested the spear upon his shoulder - the tip of the weapon intermingled with his wild, black hair.
“Ginta and Hakkaku insisted,” he explained.
“They worry about you,” Lord Kano said - he held onto Koga’s shoulders - he was about to speak when he looked away and moved toward the source of a disturbance.
Funuke entered.
“I heard the call,” the old wolf told the young demon. “Sorry I didn’t reply.”
Koga nodded.
“Where were you, Funuke?” asked Lord Kano.
Koga ignored the conversation; he did not expect an answer that could be believed.
The reply was as immediate as if it had been scripted, “I was tracking a trail of blood, human blood, Lord Kano.”
The wolf prince raised an eyebrow.
“Although, I don’t know why there would be a human deep within lupine territory.”
“Famines, wars, ignorance. What does it matter why?”
“And I see it was busy tonight.”
Koga noted Funuke’s icy cold indifference at the sight of the carcass.
“A big kill. A fresh kill,” he added dispassionately.
Lord Kano stood with his hand on his sword.
“It wasn’t eaten,” the older, more cautious of the wolves continued and concluded, “A waste.”
“Yes, a waste,” the younger, more fearless of the pack agreed.
“What do you think, Koga?” Lord Kano asked as if he did not know the answer already.
“It lacks a scent of anything unusual; it’s a fresh kill so there should be something but there isn’t as much as a trace of the hunter.”
“If the enemy’s endowed with a scent then this thing must be quite utterly natural. A natural and normal part of the environment. Otherwise, if it were a human or a demon, it would be noticed.”
“You think it could be an animal?” Funuke asked abruptly. “An animal, like any other animal?”
“But what sort of animal, native to the forest, could be responsible?” Koga thought aloud.
“What it is, is to be proved.” The alpha turned to the beta, “Do you see it?”
Koga gulped. Lord Kano said it was here, he thought silently, but could it be here? Literally, here?
“If it’s native, aren’t we within its territory?” Funuke stammered.
“Lupine territory,” Lord Kano corrected.
“Lord Kano, we should be reasonable; if it leaves no trace, if it kills for sport -”
Koga combed the ground. There was no trail but there was something that suggested a path. He reasoned that a predator would not expend too much effort by taking paths that were not straightforward. If it were after prey then it would not be prudent to waste time and energy by taking false turns, dodging trees and rocks and climbing steep hills. It would be true, especially, if the deer had been killed for sport.
He guessed the path to be along smooth and clean terrain. Where there were no obstacles. Where it was easy to move about, back and forth. He traced that path with such single-minded determination that he did not notice how far he veered away from Lord Kano. That he did not notice how deep he stumbled into the wilderness. And he would have been careful but there was a point within the trail where the temptation against caution could not be resisted.
Koga stood again and again clutched the weapon.
The demon sensed the blood of a human and it was close.
“Lord Kano,” he called - as he should have called when he realized his vulnerability.
The trail of blood, that had been random splatters here and there, pooled to be soaked up by the forestry. And there was a mound of shrubbery that had been torn off of its roots and entangled into a blanket. The web-work of leaves and branches shivered - what was beneath the mound was still alive and its panicked, mindless motion rattled the vegetation.
Nearing the pile, he kicked it and the underbrush tumbled away to reveal the enemy’s latest, mortal victim.
The man’s face was cloaked by blood. He was not dressed like a warrior. He could have been a villager. Or a traveler. A very, very lost traveler.
“It’s your human, Funuke,” Lord Kano stated while approaching the incoherent victim.
The man was thoroughly unaware of his surroundings and its demons.
From a distance a single, distressed wolf bayed - the yelp was silenced mid-syllable.
“It’s here,” the human stammered. “It’s here, it’s here! It’s after me - run!”
“Did you see it?” Koga asked. He did not approach the human lest that reveal his heritage and agitate the victim. The man might not survive the shock of it.
“The teardrops! Everywhere! It’s not of this world -”
The man, seeing what only existed within his mind, screamed and staggered away from the shadows into the darkness. He got up and fell down across the trunk of a tree. Again he struggled to his feet and again he stumbled. All the while he glared into the distance and pointed and shouted about teardrops.
“What, wait, what did it look like?” Koga asked as he inched toward the human. “What did it sound like?”
“Koga, wait,” said Lord Kano as he held the wolf by the shoulder.
“It’s the teardrops! It’s the teardrops!”
The human screamed. He hid his face below his arms and the wolves saw those bloody stumps of melted flesh and bone that remained of his hands. Somehow, someway, through an act of super human will, the man returned to his feet and ran away, wailing about teardrops as he vanished into the forest, thoroughly divorced from reality.
Lord Kano was disturbed and Koga was upset all the while Funuke stood silent, alternating his gaze between that pool of blood and that space within the void where the human seemed to think the enemy lurked.
“Let him go, Koga. Even if he answered you, you couldn’t trust the description.”
“But -”
“No doubt he saw it but it shattered his mind -”
“Maybe - let’s go back for more men,” Funuke suggested unexpectedly.
“Damn it,” Koga whispered - but across the silence that overcame the world right then and there those whispers resembled screams.
At that moment, at that instant, they knew they were in the presence of the enemy. Standing there, though, it was impossible to know where the world ended and the beast began. They did not see it, not even its shadow; they saw its effect only. The rattle of vines passed for the sight of its arms and legs. The sway of branches, the snapping of twigs, was substitute for the measure of its body.
Wherever eyes looked it had been there and just passed. And it was everywhere, from left to right, forward and backward, and above - above.
It was above them. Koga knew but could not explain it. He struggled but could not force the will to see. It was too horrible a thing to do - to look - and confirm every last suggestion of fear within his body. It would have been a failure to Lord Kano if he allowed that catastrophe. But if he did not look was it not, already, the sign of a coward?
Biting his lip and clutching his weapon until it groaned within his grasp, Koga looked and, although there was nothing to be seen, it was a victory of mind over body.
“It’s running that way! It’s going that way!” Lord Kano shouted. And as soon as he uttered those words, he followed the enemy. “Koga, come with me!”
“Lord Kano!” he shouted instinctively. “Lord Kano!” The demon searched about the clearing yet he could not find the figure of the wolf prince. The leader was gone and the follower was lost.
But Funuke remained unaffected.
“Wait, Koga, wait, we can’t fight this,” the old, jittery wolf said.
“What are you talking about?” Koga asked, disturbed by the tone of the demon.
“We need more men,” he explained, growing at last more panicked and afraid. “We are too few, too weak, Koga.”
Funuke grasped Koga’s wrist as tightly as Koga grasped the spear.
“Koga, I need you!” echoed the voice of his alpha, his leader.
“We have to do it ourselves, alone,” he spat at Funuke. “Lord Kano! I’ll be there! I’m coming!”
“It’s crazy, insane! This thing - this enemy - what did it do? It hasn’t affected us. I don’t know anyone who’s been killed or maimed. And I haven’t noticed that food is scarce. It isn’t our enemy, Koga, it isn’t our problem.”
“Let me go!” Koga struggled against Funuke’s vice-like grip. He aimed the tip of the spear against the neck of his very own kind. “You may not think your tribe is worth your life but I’m not you!”
The grip vanished and with its passing the wolf ran into the forest.
“Lord Kano!” the demon shouted. “I will find you!”
Koga struggled to keep pace through that unknown and deadly territory. The sound of the fight - a mixture of sword-strikes and hisses - always seemed to be just out of reach within the forest. He cursed that despite his frenzy he was too slow.
Koga would have given his soul to be fast enough to be by his commander.
He reached the field and froze. It was a chasm formed by trees whose branches had been entangled into a framework like a spider’s web. The canopy formed by those leaves masked the light of the stars above. Below the dark and shadowy earth was rocky and uneven and suffocated by a fog of onyx.
And then a strange, eerie sight emerged into view. Before him was Lord Kano. The wolf prince was caught in the act of slicing the air with his sword. Around his figure were trunks of trees, silent and immovable, yet bathed by a kind of ethereal, red glow. Beyond that world, vision melted into oblivion, a void that eyes could not penetrate.
That, all of that, Koga saw but what he could not see was the enemy.
He growled and stormed into the fray - he pierced the air above with the tip of the spear -
Lord Kano’s aim was also directed upward -
But he did not feel anything until he was at arm’s length to his commander: then and there, when he lunged, he felt it.
There was not a moment to lose for immediately after that shock a new and different kind of terror befell the wolf demon. What unfolded - he could not accept it - it seemed to be impossible. How could it be true? In what universe could it be true?
Lord Kano swung. And, just when the sword connected, something struck the wolf prince. The katana was tossed away by the force of the impact. Even before the weapon careened against the rocks, Lord Kano was struck, again. The figure faded into a visage of blood and flesh - torn and shredded as if a thousand blades exploded upon his face. There was not as much as a scream while the body, most surely dead, fell onto its knees and toppled into the earth.
Koga never felt such a mixture of sickness and rage.
He scrambled into the pit. He thrust the spear into the enemy whose outlines were revealed by the blood splatter of its noble victim. A ghastly sight was unmasked by the wound. The blow was followed by a strike that knocked him against the rocks. Only the action of his hands against the stones saved him from the doom of the concussion.
He cursed again.
The spear was stuck within the enemy. The wound it opened trickled a thin, putrid blood upon the body of Lord Kano. But he was helpless as long as the weapon remained impaled in the beast. Yet he was confident and desperate. Desperate, for death could have come at any moment from any direction. Confident because he knew the enemy could be killed. Despite its mythic status endowed by rumor, it was as real as anything earthly was real; he proved that by damaging it.
So, if it would be harmed, could it not be killed?
Koga stood ready to charge back into the fight. To reach the spear. To tear the rent until either he or the enemy or both were dead. And he was about to act when, by accident of perspective, he saw the teardrops.
There were three teardrops. They shimmered from their own internal light. They burned shades of a deep, smoky red that could be mistaken for drops of blood. But they were imperfect as if they were tiny fragments broken off a larger whole. And they floated above the ground.
As they moved, he noticed they were not free but attached onto something, something that was part of the enemy.
Perhaps, he thought, an important part of the enemy.
He recalled Lord Kano’s sword; it was by the rocks at his feet.
“Just this once,” he whispered as he grabbed the hilt of the katana.
Quickly, while the enemy was distracted by the spear, he lunged into the space about the teardrops and sliced across the flesh of the beast. That portion of the body with the shards tumbled beside Lord Kano. From its stump shot a spray of blood and light. Red light. Bright enough to be like sunset. It illuminated the scene and revealed to the wolf the nature of the thing.
The demon ran toward the wound breached by the spear. The move was too late, however, as the enemy underwent a transformation. It shrunk. Its legs flailed and whipped about frantically. The wolf was tossed aside by its limbs as it resumed its natural state.
Sitting up, his eyes aided by the glow of the shards, he saw it. Before it scampered into the forest to be lost forever - and oblivious to the danger of the contact - he grasped it tightly by its abdomen. Internal juices oozed out of the scar as the creature flailed its head and legs.
“But, at the end, you were the enemy?”
Koga could not believe it. The thing was a large, hairy spider. He thought about crushing it, to avenge all of the deaths it caused, yet to think that the danger had been caused by a spider -
He dropped it and it scampered away. It was as good as dead anyway. Missing a leg, bleeding. It emerged out of Nature’s womb and into Earth’s tomb it returned.
Only the leg and the teardrops remained. And to keep them from causing damage again he clawed the shards out of the flesh. Like the creature, the appendage shrunk and vanished into the litter.
Koga knelt by the body of his commander. He had suspected but that incident revealed the truth of what it meant to be a warrior. Now, at last, he could not imagine anything as noble as to live and die for the pack. If he were to become a leader then death would be his fate.
But maybe it did not have to be that way.
The shards gave the spider power. It used that power unwisely but it could not be blamed - it did what it always did - it continued to be a spider. If the shards gave the lowliest of creatures such strength could it not give him that same, exact ability? If he used the ability for a better purpose? To protect the wolves from the avians?
Or what if the shards fell into the hands of a villain? Or a self-important scoundrel - like Funuke?
And where was Funuke? he wondered. What did he see? What did he know?
And then a certain, unnatural, idea gained realization. The effects he had been given by birth, his strength and determination, would they not be enhanced by the shards? Little by little, moment by moment, the sharp, cold fragments of the jewel begged to be stabbed into his flesh…