Call of the Heart

Disclaimer: I own nothing I tell you nothing…just a very vivid imagination the rest is up to you….


To see the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower, to hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. William Blake

Prologue: And So It Began…


He ran. Muscles contracting and releasing as his heart thrummed against his rib cage in a fine, steady rhythm. Breath escaped his lungs at a rapid pace as the world around him blurred in his rush. His heartbeat, a deaf roaring in his ears as it pumped blood to the powerful legs that carried him.

Each step echoing in the silence that had befallen the surrounding forest, dyer anticipation that had taken hold of the environment that enveloped the landscape of the Western lands oozed into the taiyoukai as he bounded towards his goal. His determination growing stronger with each step that he took , determination to get to her, the bane of his life and the soul source of his aggravation, his lifeline in this world, his miko, Kagome.

The girl had managed to windel her way into his life with her kind heart and stubborn determination; she had become friends with him, the almighty Taiyoukai of the West. It began with her rescuing his ward, Rin, and somehow she had made a very strong impression on the young girl. Every so often she would pop up in conversation with the other lords at the meetings that were held with the growing threat of the Hanyou, Naraku. He seemed to run into her at every bend in his perusal of the foul Hanyou and somehow she, with her swift wording and higher education had persuaded his hot headed half brother and him to call a temporary truce and work together in brining down Naraku. She had proven herself more than worthy of his respect with each hurdle that the new formed group had tackled with her selflessness and willing to protect her friends and others at all costs. Yet she will never know just how much the cold hearted youkai actually respected and valued the young girl, he didn’t even know himself until very recently when, back in his lands for a brief visit, he had received an anonymous letter that stated that the fate of the young miko rests in his claws.

His speed, a blur to the naked eye as he made his way to the clearing where the foul Hanyou had stated that he would be when the penultimate moon had reached its peak in the night sky; he followed the stench of the Hanyou using his keen sense of smell. Finally he reached the clearing, the smell of the miasmic Hanyou hung in the air as he stepped out of the shadow of the trees and into the clearing where the moon gave light to the small opening in the forest. Clutching the parchment in his claws that stated their meeting place, he was to meet her here, alone…

He gazed at the moon, narrowing his eyes at the orb that hung in the black sky, the eerie glow that surrounded it, an omen of foreshadowing the events that were to follow before the night was over. His heart leapt as the seconds of him scanning the tree line on the other side of the clearing for any sign of movement, turned into an eternity that stretched across the vastness of the clearing… was he too late?

Then, in his peripheral vision he saw him, them… his nose wrinkled in disgust as a bombardment of the reached miasma that seemed to flow off the Hanyou in waves as it assaulted his nose. The Hanyou glided in his trademark baboon pelt that had taken on the unnatural glow of the moon, to come to a halt just past the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing. A small cry of anguish reached the Taiyoukai’s sensitive ears as she came into view, her face shadowed by the tall branches of the trees. He scanned her physique, her kimono, the once pristine silk gift that he had bestowed upon her was torn and tattered in places, and blood stained the white inner kimono, still red with the indication that it was fresh. A quiet clanking was herd as Naraku yanked on a rough chain and as cause and effect, she hurdled forward, and landing on her knees in a manner that must have hurt as her mouth formed a silent cry against clenched teeth. The youkai got a good look at his miko, her midnight black hair a messy bundle of tresses that fell in her face, cuts and bruises added to her battered look, her lips trembled as tears leaked from her deep, cerulean depths, drawing his attention to the side of her face where a swollen purple cheek indicated to him that she had been struck.

Anger flared in the Demon Lord standing across the clearing as he took a step towards them.

The young miko’s eyes flared with light at the sound of the name that spilt from Naraku’s lips…

“Lord Sesshoumaru…you came, how heroic….”