A gray mist hung over the battle field long after the defeated were left scattered across the ground stripped of grace and dignity. A mysterious force of will had called up enough magic to save the small sorcerer from an abrupt death to the Tetsusaiga, and the child sat painfully upright. Amarin could feel the cold of the morning mist on his skin, the dirt which covered his beautifully embroidered black robe and red laced trim ripped. The pain of dirtiness and the shame of such a humiliating defeat to a stranger outweighed any physical damage the sorcerer had suffered, and there had been plenty of that. Planting the butt of the staff forcefully against the ground, Amarin flinched as he pulled himself to a stand feeling the bruises forming on the inside, blood leaking under the skin to pool internally, painfully. Standing yet bent forward, he braised his abdomen with one delicate hand as his other grasped the tall, dark staff to keep himself upon both feet. At his will, a gentle light poured forth from the orb of the staff to cut through the murky air as his narrowed, violet-hued ruby gaze scanned the area for any sign of help or harm. Instead, his eyes fell upon a most upsetting sight.
There, left to spill his demonic blood upon the ground as it pooled around him and saturated the white clothing, was a most noble looking creature. Battered and cast aside to drown in his own disgrace, the fair demon lay upon the crimson speckled stretch of grass with his long ivory hair scattered around his pain-stricken yet still face, a bloody rip slashed across his oriental clothing just above his chest, and the fur that had been taken from him was thrown insultingly at his feet.
Black talons clacked upon the metallic staff as slender fingers wrapped hastily around it, and a sudden lash of hot pain seized Amarin's temple. Sharp fanged teeth closed tightly together and the staff moved forward as he weakly staggered forward to close the distance between himself and the demon.
To think that this horrid deed was done by his very sibling was an insult in itself. Such dishonor to share the kindred ship with the despicable, spoiled, tactless brat.
"To you, stranger, I apologize for my sibling yet cannot be held responsible. All the same, I cannot leave you here in this manner knowing that it was my relation that caused you this discomfort and disgrace." Staring deeply into the motionless face of the demon, Amarin examined his features, the elegant structure of his face, the demon stripes upon his cheekbones, the persian blue crescent moon at the center of his forehead, the red markings upon his eyelids. Then slowly, sooty lashes lowered to close those violet-red eyes and Amarin concentrated, sending out a message of magic.
It was several long moments as the last of the sorcerer's strength began to fade, and his frail knees failed beneath him and the child sank in his gown to the ground with one slender arm outstretched above him, delicate fingers clutching at his glowing staff. He was not used to such physical abuse, and he longed for cleanliness and relief of his pain.
The winds began to pick up around them and it swirled the pre-morning mist eerily until the light of the mystic staff fell upon a large mass descending from the sky. It was the bow of a boat, hewn of a silvery wood and formed into elegant design of foreign and ancient cultures. The boat hovered inches from the grass before the sorcerer, and he lifted his gaze thankfully to it, "Ah, my children. Please aid my guest and I, and take us home."
Small, bare arms reached out to help the sorcerer to his feet. Slender, pale arms held and lifted the wounded demon gently.
And seated in the silver boat, the child sorcerer, surrounded by white-robed young servants and a silent demon, pointed his staff forward as they lifted above the cloud line just as the light of day tore over the horizon behind them. The boat sailed the currents of the winds which toyed with the flowing silken sails, and the vision of a palace began to unfold from the clouds before them. A misty dock and several more young servants awaited their arrival. Amarin was home.
The next instant he was aware, Sesshoumaru awoke with a vicious pain clouding his mind and senses. Eyes red from the demon in him, he jerked forward with a growling hiss, pushing the water violently away from himself in lapping waves and the scent of human overpowered him. A sudden, yet small crash caught his ear and he turned his crimson gaze sharply to it's source. A young human girl gasped, abandoning the soapy brush which slid from her hands to the marble tile beneath her feet. He watched her for a moment as the pain in his mind began to fade and his surroundings became more clear to him. He was in a bathing area of some sorts, swirling trails of steam mingled with the smoke of floral and herbal insents which gave the air an exotic aroma, though did not cover the scent of human which lurked everywhere, and his hair was pulled back and pinned atop his head. The girl possessed a void of emotion in her eyes, and she gave no other reaction to his stare except to retrieve the brush.
Turning his eyes away from her at last, Sesshoumaru lifted his hand from the water and traced a finger along his bare chest and up to examine where one wound would be. Both wounds were nonexistent.
A second human, a young man with the same emotionless eyes and white robes approached Sesshoumaru this time, carrying hot water with the scent of herbs. Sesshoumaru looked up, feeling a bit insulted by being surrounded by so many humans while he had been unconscious, but the young man bowed and added the solution to the bath.
For a moment, the scent of the girl had departed with the arrival of the young man, but it returned once more and Sesshoumaru looked up at the sound of a vaguely familiar voice and the faint aroma of equally familiar blood, "That is enough, my children, leave our guest to his privacy." It was a calm, soothing yet young voice. It was the sorcerer that had attacked Inuyasha's traveling companion when Sesshoumaru had arrived.
The human children bowed, the girl holding Sesshoumaru's neatly folded clothing set them upon a surface near the sorcerer and took her leave.
By physical stature, the sorcerer appeared to be smaller, less mature then the humans who had departed, by mortal maturity he would be probably eleven years of age, but Sesshoumaru could not be fooled so easily. The cat eared sorcerer carried an air of ancient magic and forgotten knowledge in those violet hued red demon eyes.
Thin, youthful lips curved into a smile as the cat eared demon met Sesshoumaru's gaze, "Forgive them, milord, the children have been so concerned for your comfort. It is so rare that there is a guest for them to serve." Sesshoumaru's host was dressed now in a delicate black silk robe, a thorny pattern stretched across the material like ivy and deep crimson rose petals sparsely decorated the design, the long locks of violet-red and black were pulled away from that pale thin face and left to spill down his back.
The shimmering fabric rustled and parted slightly as a crystal sandal stepped forward, it's clear sole made a pleasant ring as it met the marble floor carrying the sorcerer forward.
"Who are you?" Sesshoumaru asked quietly as he studied his host's careful movements. "I am Amarin, lord of this house. I am sorry to say I am the brother of the swordsman you encountered last night. The enchanted blade stunned you, but there was no permanent damage; I made sure of that. But as for my brother, I can only humbly apologize for your inconvenience." Amarin bowed apologetically, then rose once more with a spark of curiosity in his eyes, "Now, may I know the name of my guest?" He lifted his small, childish hand and a long cloth spilled forth materializing from his fingers as they closed around it, and held it in offering to the demon.
"Sesshoumaru," was his simple answer as his hand lifted in acceptance, yet without making a forward motion for the cloth. There was yet a distance between his waiting fingers and the token being offered.
With a pleasant smile, and a light swish of a velvety, black speckled tail, Amarin opened his fingers and let the cloth carry itself and lay across Sesshoumaru's open palm, "How beautiful."
A cold, golden gaze followed the cloth's movements until it stopped, and quickly blinked back to his host as he was turning his back to Sesshoumaru and approaching a table across the room with a soft jingling ring like music.
Sesshoumaru stood, thoughtfully using the cloth to dry himself all the while keeping his senses alert, knowing his host's movements as Amarin lifted a hot kettle and poured it's fragrant contents into two small cups. Yet, even with the sorcerer's gaze diverted elsewhere, as Sesshoumaru rose from the water and dressed himself in his cleaned and renewed attire and releasing his hair from the pin letting it fall in an ivory cascade down his back once more, he could not help but feel as if the sorcerer's eyes were still upon him.
" . . . Very beautiful," the sorcerer mused quietly as if to confirm his guest's suspicions.
How dare he, Sesshoumaru began to think until his thoughts were interrupted with the ring of those crystal sandals softly moving across the marble tile, and his host turned once again to him with a cup cradled in the palm of each hand.
"Your cloths, I felt it best to restore them. It was the least I could do for the damage my brother caused. Here, tea before dinner: for your strength." This childlike demon was very charming and very intent on helping Sesshoumaru, and this made him silently uneasy. Keeping his curious gaze upon the face of his guest, Amarin approached with a beautiful music coming from his feet, and a small hand extended towards the demon this time well with in his reach.
"I must take my leave now. Where are my possessions?" his attention never for a moment diverted to the offering, instead it remained intently upon the small host himself.
A dark brow lifted upon the sorcerer's forehead and one side of his thin mouth curled upwards a bit more as that soothing, melodic voice replied, "Your possessions are safe, I shall take you to them. But will you not have your tea and humor your host for dinner, it would be best to build up your strength once more: I know for I am very knowlaged in the healing of all things," then he added as he lifted the cup into Sesshoumaru's line of view, "I have found such an art especially useful for trying to win the favour and gain the company of new acquaintances and potential allies."
With his host's intentions clarified, Sesshoumaru lifted his hand to Amarin's slowly and began to close his fingers around the china cup.
Amarin gently slipped his hand away to let the cup settle in Sesshoumaru's palm, but not before letting his delicate fingers brush ever so subtlety against the demon's hand and cast a lash shaded gaze up to his golden eyes. Then Amarin turned away, a satisfied smile forming upon his thin lips and the music of his steps trailed behind him like the lightly swaying rhythm of his speckled tail. His movements were catlike, by default, and the child sorcerer led his demon guest out a marble archway just as a human servant passed by, bowed to each of them, and went to tend to the unoccupied bath.
Sesshoumaru followed, but did not bother with the tea he carried, instead he took long thoughtful strides behind the cat eared child as they passed by more marble archways, tall fountains of water, stands of sculpture collected from different human lands and floral plants and trees, all of it intermingling and arranged rather decoratively in the tall, seemingly wall-less structure. Indeed, from a short casting of his gaze he could see no visible walls except for the external barrier which sheltered this vast palace. Instead, there were stone pillars or archway openings while long stretches of beautiful fabrics or barriers of vines blocked sections of the interior into separate areas. And overhead, platforms of floorings were balanced at different levels of height upon the columns and archways, some of these raised sections were covered by fabrics in the same manner as the ground level, yet some were left open air. And there appeared to be no way up to these levels except for cage-like boxes sitting beneath them which were connected by a pulley network of cables to their appropriate destinations. All in all, it held hints of inspiration from human architecture yet was ultimately superior in design, Sesshoumaru concluded.
Several white-robed human children of ages spanning from perhaps five to fifteen went about their business around them, tending to plants, polishing sculptures, or pampering the many simple cats which wandered freely about the palace. Small sable masked sapphire eyed siamese domesticated cats lapped up cream being fed to them by human children while wild northern furred lynx prowled along the edges of fountains or sat in flowering trees with long furred snow-white persians.
But, though the distance was not far, Sesshoumaru could not remember a time when movement felt so difficult. Though he had no pain, it was just as his host seemed to expect, he was weak and tired. And the cat eared lord seemed to not fare any better, for his stride was slow though graceful, and the light scent of his blood was reaching Sesshoumaru's senses with each of the sorcerers movements.
That half-breed brother of his must have actually injured this sorcerer in battle, and he suddenly thought perhaps he could understand a bit of the sorcerer's own anger towards the thought of his own sibling bringing down a complete stranger in a battle he had nothing to do with. It was rather insulting, after all.
He was led into a fabric walled room where crystal lanterns chased away the darkness, placed like sentinel at each corner. Shelves with scrolls and small artifacts were lined along a few of the colourful tapestried walls, and in the center was a large pillowed sofa seated behind a small, short legged table where his armour, weapons, and fur were lain, all polished and cleaned. Sesshoumaru remained in the archway for a moment, however, letting his host enter completely and turn to him with those violet hinted ruby eyes gazing over the lip of the cup as he took long, slow thoughtful sips. He was preoccupied with the scent of Amarin's blood which seemed to spark a mysterious familiarity within him, as though he had encountered it so recently yet had forgotten.
"Are you troubled, milord Sesshoumaru? Request anything you desire and I shall do all in my power to grant it." the voice of his host called gently to him over the short distance, but it was as if the vision of memory was pulling Sesshoumaru away.
"The enchanted blade has poisoned his blood", he remembered hearing while in darkness, "He will weaken soon, children, bring quickly my crystals and herbs."
His intent golden gaze slid to his host who remained standing near the arm of the sofa, a cup in one hand while his other motioned to the pillows as a faint and curious smile decorated his features, "Please, rest yourself, milord. Drink your tea and regain your strength, dinner shall be ready soon."
He moved slowly closer, and lowered himself to sit cautiously upon the sofa while balancing the cup in his hand. And as Amarin leaned one knee upon the arm at the opposite end until sliding to a shy perch upon it, Sesshoumaru caught a bit of a sharper scent of the cat demon's blood and the sight of a weak quiver from his muscles with the movement.
"The Tetsusaiga is truly a potent weapon" Sesshoumaru commented, glancing towards the concealed wound on the sorcerer's chest through the corner of his eye.
One black rimmed ear slid forward as Amarin tilted his head as if in amusement with the demon's comment, and he curled the fingers of each hand around the cup upon his lap while that black speckled tail wandered curiously around the child's thin, frail body, "And so are you, milord Sesshoumaru, quite potent and deadly."
Sesshoumaru turned his full gaze to the child who was shyly sipping at his tea, knees tucked up beneath him, and perfumed with a hint of blood. Once again, memory flooded him and he remembered the pain he had awoken with which had troubled him ever since the sword-wielding fox demon had stabbed deep into his side. He remembered feeling restless, and feeling trapped, then feeling his own transformation beginning. Had he been trying to change to his true self while in unconsciousness?
"I am sorry if you do not remember yet, I felt it best to put your mind at rest while tending to your wounds. You were very restless and in great pain." Amarin looked a bit more grim with this apology, and his red-violet stare had intensified upon his guest as if reading his mind.
Sesshoumaru stood sharply, not comfortable with a lack of knowledge that should exist in his own memory. An icy amber gaze shot across to seize the violet hued ruby eyes already upon him, yet his voice remained even and empty, "What have you done, sorcerer, that you must apologize for?"
"Trouble yourself not by this, milord, the memory shall return to you, I did not wish you to wake in a rage. But I shall tell you and help your mind ease to a rest once more: that would be best for your body now."
Sesshoumaru envisioned the happenings even before the sorcerer began to speak, witnessing the events from an omnipotent throne. He could see himself, the look of pain upon his strained sweat dotted face, the streaks of red sliding across his opened skin, and the delicate black clawed fingers which carefully peeled the clothing from his chest to reveal the gash upon his collar bone, exposed flesh rippling with blood. There were other hands as well, hands which reached forth past their master's and soaked up the blood and sweat with cloths before exchanging it to other hands which moved away and cleaned the saturated cloth while other hands were replacing the dirtied with cleaned, all working in unison, like clockwork, without hesitation. "The enchanted blade has poisoned his blood. He will weaken soon, children, bring quickly my crystals and herbs . . . Hand me that oil. Gently with his arm, we do not wish to wake him . . . Place the crystal here . . . Wait, he is waking . . . "
The light slid from a crystal suspended invisibly above Sesshoumaru's sweat dotted body as it began to slowly purify the enchanted poison in his blood. His host was knelt tirelessly over him, wrapped in a white cloth from his waist down because he had only just hastily discarded the cloths torn from his battle, a large black bruise was seen upon the center of his lower ribcage. He was taking slow and careful motions, keeping the many human servants at a distance from the wounded demon except to clean the blood escaping his wounds. Gently laying a mixture of oil and herbs onto the wounds, the child like sorcerer was stopping the bleeding quickly, and beginning to sew up the wounds, as he pulled the silken thread, which seemed to come from nowhere, through the skin the wound closed without a trace--but not before the wounded awoke from the pain.
Great fangs were bared as he rose, shooting up to a sudden and unnaturally quick upright sit, eyes wide, red, and wild. The sorcerer leaned back, his own hands abandoning their task as they weakly pulled up to wave the children away, and as he spoke in his soft, gentle tone, Sesshoumaru's arm whipped around viciously sliding his claws across his healer's chest in a blind, painstriken rage. The children's frightened voices called out to their master as they rushed forward, ready to shield him from attack as they pulled him away, and the crystal quivered in midair a moment before falling uselessly to the ground. Before the demon, however, could inflict any harm upon the gathering children, the sorcerer lifted one hand as he squint in pain, his teary violet hued ruby gaze twinkled mystically as he spoke with ancient words. The crystal lifted once more above the demon's head as it's light flooded his face, reflecting from his eyes so strongly, and the vision began to fade.
"I cast you into a forgetful slumber, not wishing you to experience any more pain then you already have, and not wanting any harm to come to the children." Amarin remained perched calmly upon the arm of the sofa, cup of tea at hand, and a cool crystalline light reflecting from his violet hued ruby gaze and illuminating a sheen of royal purple from his scarlet and black locks, "Does this trouble you, milord Sesshoumaru?"
"WHAT?!? HOW DARE YOU READ--and, assumably enjoy--THE STUFF ABOUT OUR SILLY SIBLINGS! I'm ashamed of you! Now click me this instant to read on with the REAL story! The mannly adventures of 'Fox' Dodgers . . . oh yeah, and Inuyasha too!"
