InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Beautiful Priestess ❯ The Lord of the Western Lands ( Chapter 2 )

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any ideas of Rumiko Takahashi.

A/N: Well, I got my first semi-scathing review ever! I'm so proud. lol One of my reviewers felt that I was misleading people by claiming that this story had "beautiful prose." So, not wanting to make the same mistake again, I changed the summary. Now, if you stumble upon this story, and hate the way I write, just know I never told you it was perfect ; )

I just decided to post one of my old stories on a whim to see what people thought, and this isn't my main focus right now in terms of fanfics- but if you like it, I'd love to hear about it in a review. (Of course, I don't mind the criticisms either, even if sometimes they've been a little nasty.) Well, enjoy and review!

CHAPTER 2: The Lord of the Western Lands

Just like the seven advisors had planned, Michiro had not been present to witness the suspiciously quick ceremony that was in honor of her father. They did not wait to notify the servants or heads of house that their master was dead. Only for the purpose of appeasing the gods, did Shinjiru set out a makeshift altar with sake and a feeble stalk of incense. As soon as the remains of the nobleman were reduced to ashes, the offerings were swept out of sight, and the courtyard was returned to its normal stillness.

The funeral was over so quickly, that Michiro was not sure if she had missed it. Of course, she had sat against the wall of her room, listening to the sounds of the roar of flames and hushed uttering that drifted in from the outside, but she could not see what had been going on. The door had been blocked by the guard outside. Michiro had no energy left to struggle against the soldier who wore strong armor and a swift blade.

So, bereft of all strength, she was curled up in a corner of this place for an irresolute amount of time.

These greedy, smug men of high society and low devices, although they would not find trouble in wresting her father's fortune from a woman's grasp, would indefinitely find trouble in choosing to ignore the neighboring youkai. They were fools to laugh in the face of demons, who could smite a human with a mere flick of their tails.

She collapsed her body further into itself, letting her brain entertain dark thoughts. Though she was a pure miko, Michiro was felt boiling rage towards her father's so-called allies, who, she was convinced, had murdered him for their own gain. --There is no other explanation for father dying so suddenly, and for them being so anxious to clear up his remains without a proper ceremony--. Her heart burned with sorrow for her lost father, who was not given the proper respect that he deserved. Her thoughts overflowed with memories of the beautiful man that had raised her.

Master Hakeda was a generous, benevolent soul who had earned the adoration of everyone he came into contact with. He had struck deals and bargains with the stingiest of businessmen, because he could coax their friendship out with his ardor for life and genuine blitheness. He had been joyful in his union with Izuka, Michiro's mother, who lit up his world and had spurred him to build a marvelous estate in her honor.

He cherished Michiro, and as her miko powers became evident, he had sent for Ganzau, once a well-known and highly respected priest, to train her in the duties of a Shinto priestess. He wanted nothing more than to build a strong and thriving family, and now only cared for business in the way of supporting that family. He wanted to see Michiro married to a man of gentility and esteem. He had often elaborated, in a warm fashion, on his desire for grandchildren in the expansive mansion.

Hakeda had not deserved death by the hands of his "faithful" advisors.

After the untimely death of his wife, Hakeda Izuka, Michiro's father seemed to have lost a fraction of his spirit and light. He was still gentle and adoring towards his special daughter, but often distanced himself from friends and family, living days at a time in his personal gray daydream. The father and daughter still kept a close bond, but something inside both of them had shattered, and nothing was ever quite the same as before.

With his intense grief, Hakeda had let many business matters slip through his grasp, and left his seven right-hand men to take care of them. Master Hakeda had never been quite as pennywise as the next noble, but had gotten by with his charm and intelligence. Now, the seven men, all sworn into trust with their lord, were in charge of the financial matters.

The seven, in Michiro's eyes, had apparently defied the whip of age, and had remained in her father's service only until the day that all of her father's money was equally hoarded and divided among them. Once they had accomplished their chief goal, they would eventually run off with it like the scummy thieves that they were, under those boxed hats and fancy silk kimonos that her father had provided them with. She suffered them all thoughts of maliciousness. They had once given her father faithful service, but when had they turned upon him like rabid hounds?

Shinjiru, the lanky and nasal leader with his twitching mustached mouth- he had always been the bane of the lower class's existence. Condescending, his beady eyes boring into everyone's soul, working to find their weaknesses. He was a shrewd dealmaker with a tight fist. Mansou, that pot-bellied swine who had driven her from her own father's deathbed. And the rest had also chosen to prey on her father's growing weakness that had been brought on by depression and atrophy- Kurome, Toja, Oru, Musahi, and Toushite. Had they always only pledged him their service because of their monetary desires?

And Ganzau, that respected and honored priest from the far-off capital of the land- his reputation and life had fallen into disrepair with the onslaught of time. He had resided in his own large shrine, many li away from the estate. When famine and draught had struck his crops and youkai had wrecked his beloved shrine, he was forced to live on the premises with the Hakeda family.

Ganzau was no longer the high priest that he once had been, and was driven under the control of the now-powerful seven keepers of the Hakeda fortune. He was of no help to Michiro, now. He had even lost his affinity for moral debate and peaceful solution, and she assumed that he had been taken into Shinjiru's plans by coercion.

Michiro bit back her simmering hate, her eyes flaming with un-shuttered passion once again. And, now that they had finally succeeded in driving her father's life from his body, they would not hesitate to harm her if she got in their way. Perhaps they would keep her on the premises in order to not arouse suspicion…..Perhaps they would leave her locked in her bedroom like she had been for the hours since her father's demise.

And the youkai raged still yet.

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Unlike what she had predicted, Shinjiru had relieved the guard of his post the next morning. He had relayed to her, as if she was a temperamental child, that it was for the best that she had been kept from her father's funeral. It was best that she had not disturbed the quiet of the pledge to the heavens; it was best that she had not had to see his wasted body burn like her mother's.

She had looked at him in stony silence.--He denies the fact that I am a miko, and that these ceremonies are those that I have performed for countless deaths of servants in my own house. He pretends he had no hand whatsoever in otou-san's death--.

She hardened to his fanciful words, but did not allow her beautiful face to flinch. "I am saddened over the loss of my father. He was a good, kind, gentle man. I am sure you are just as appalled at his death as I am." She watched for any reaction from him, picking around her words carefully. "Now that you have graciously taken care of the rituals while sparing me the pain, I would hope that you would consider the proposition that I have made before.

"As I've explained to you before, the demons are coming for the blood of each other, and we should not stand in their way. We must escape this wretched land." She could already gauge that he did not find the idea of abandoning his newly acquired land acceptable.

"Michiro-sama," he began. "The only thing I can see fit to do is to defend ourselves against them. Why give way? Why act as weaklings, when we are not. Humans are not as frail as you suppose they are. You are a miko. Have more faith in your people."

"We cannot defend against their talons or their claws, if our bodies happen to be underfoot. They are acting as beasts, driven by fury of battle!"

He shook his head lightly, a dark smile still plastered beneath his whiskers. "No, no, Lady Michiro. You are wrong. You are powerful. You have your hama no ya, and your barriers. I believe that you can protect us against the youkai. What is more cowardly- running or fighting? Do you not have any affection for these people that live and serve here? Why would you heartlessly drive them from their homes that they cherish so dearly? Do you not think of them as your relatives- they have helped rear you into the lovely little priestess that you are today."

She could feel the sarcasm that dripped off his tongue and landed sizzling like a caustic substance upon her ears. "Aren't they your family? Aren't I, and the rest of your father's faithful servants just like family?"

She resisted the strong urge to vomit across that smug and un-penetrable shield of the man.

"And, you won't fight, Shinjiru? What about the guards under my father's rule- will they fight?"

He pressed his fingertips together, sighing. "Oh, but what can their spears and feeble swords accomplish against those great beasts? I assure you that your spiritual powers can purify their energy- Ganzau himself has told me of your developing powers. Why don't you at least….try….just for the time being, to protect this surrogate `family' of yours…..Miko-sama?"

She damned the way that his sugary ideas had weaseled their way into her thoughts.

"And where would we run to? Perhaps whatever place we assumed was a safe haven, was actually festering with youkai, as with this forest. What can we do?"

He paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his brow. "But, here is an idea for you, Miko-sama. If by the second day, you cannot drive off the youkai, we will consider leaving….yes?"

She clenched her jaws together, sucking in the tense air that surrounded her. "I…..I….will see….what can be done….tomorrow…….Tomorrow I will try to drive the youkai away to the best of my ability. I do not think it can be done alone. You do swear by the heavens, though- if, by the second day we have not been able to force them away, you will consider moving these good people away from danger?"

He nodded solemnly to her, and she could not detect that emotion that lurked in his shining eyes. Deception, happiness, defeat? If she failed, at least he had agreed to help her in her cause. Maybe she could save the lives of the innocent after all.

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As that day had waned into night, and the sun had finally broken the horizon for a new morning, Michiro awakened to a heavy and anxious feeling that permeated her bones. Today was her time to face the youkai outside of her home, and hope to Kami that she would not be harmed. But, she knew very well that if she was able to prove to Shinjiru the futility of staving off youkai attacks, and still stay alive throughout the day, that she would have the chance to relocate the families that served the Hakeda.

Armed with her arrows and long bow, dressed in the traditional miko hakama and kimono, with feet adorned with tough sandals, she had made her way out of the barrier she had placed around the gates of the mansion. Shinjiru had seemed pleased at seeing her going to protect him. He was still a selfish brute, and she would be happy to see his face when he saw the real danger of the demons and was forced to back down.

She paced further from the shelter of the looming fences of the estate, nearing closer to the outskirts of the forest. Her breath was coming quicker, little pangs of fear latching on to her jaws and eyes and every muscle in every limb. She began even doubting her own experience as a priestess, as she delved further towards the darkened and oddly silent trees.

She had been raised to be the friend of guardian youkai, the enemy of the despicable and human-devouring ones. But, the lords of the land that were now fighting- she had always retained a strange mixture of fear and respect in regards to them. They were a majestic and proud race, completely absorbed in their own affairs, rarely paying mind to humans. She had never seen a lord youkai up close. She was taught to hide in the case of their passing, even if she was in the possession of purifying holy powers.

Now, thinking of what lay ahead caused her mind to flicker in pure, cold terror. She did not know what to expect from the demons. As her thoughts writhed, the silence was suddenly broken by a deafening roar that came from somewhere very near to where she walked. Despite the fact that she held a set of very powerful purifying arrows clutched in her fingers, she still shook with fright in her own footsteps. Knowing that it would be dangerous to be trapped under falling timber, she raced back out from the canopy of the trees.

The roaring sounded again, and it felt like the mouth from which it ripped from was biting at her heels. She scrambled fervently through the brush, her mind screaming. Why had she even come this far? She was a strong-willed woman, with solid values and plenty of courage. She had dealt with tricky demons and mononoke before- but she still felt as lowly as a worm against a strong force such as this. As she moved, the intense aura of powerful youki hit her in the gut. It was more powerful than she had every felt before.

Escaping the blanket of branches, she scurried from the sound like a frightened rabbit. The ground shook beneath her as a heavy weight pounded on the forest floor. Surprised, she stumbled to the grassy ground, her arrows spilling from their quiver, in a halo around her body.

Michiro grasped at her bow, and turned around to face the sky above the trees. She was frozen in pure shock.

Poised elegantly above the span of trees was the most beautiful creature the miko had ever laid eyes on. His body seemed to glow with ardor and power, as he crouched gracefully in the shadowy mists above the forest. She shuddered with recognition of the huge figure, as she was able to comprehend his huge body- it was the Great Dog Demon. The Lord of the Western Lands.