In Saving You, I Saved Myself

Prologue

Sharp golden eyes locked onto the magus; any other would have backed down. Any other who had not been so assured of their power that is. The sheer force of his glare still threatened to send a shudder through her spine; he could see it in the uncertain way she held her body. Whether or not she feared his power, his person was an intimidating enough on it’s own.

Then she smiled – a cruel stretch of lips, her inky limp hair swinging forward to crowd her face as she lowered it, a soft malevolent chuckle trickled from her.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes; though his stance looked relaxed, his muscles tensed and corded under his pale skin, covered by the layers of his signature bombyx mori youkai silk haori and hakama. His instincts were screaming, an acuminate siren blaring in the back of his mind causing the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention.

“Killing perfection,” even her voice set him on edge, the way her words whispered over and around her tongue in tones that spoke of threats despite their eerie calm demeanor, much as his own, “Perhaps… Irony suits you best… After all, you won’t be killing anything now…”

He bristled at her words, choosing to remain silent as he drew Tokijin from his obi, his youki expanding in his rage. Normally, Sesshoumaru would not choose to attack an unarmed opponent, an unarmed female none-the-less… But this was no helpless damsel, this sorceress was of top rank, her words were her weapons, and he didn’t intend to allow her to use them.

“Die,” he muttered darkly, shooting forward with speed unknown to most youkai of the feudal era. His sword arced, gleaming brightly in the afternoon sun on his down stroke. The Daiyoukai paused, his sword expertly frozen in the air – his blade mirroring the light, but untainted with the blood he’d expected to be dripping from the metal fang.

A laugh bubbled behind him, once again the youkai spun on heel, steadfastly sheathing his sword as his claws glowed green, his acid whip lashing out from his hand – only to once again strike thin air.

Sesshoumaru growled as he spun, attempting to land his glowering gaze on his opponent; laughter echoing cruelly around him. She was nowhere. She was everywhere.

“And so this is how the great one falls… In justice of all whom you’ve murdered in cold blood, I will take your body and add it to my collection. It will be my most prized possession, you should feel honoured… But their vindication…” Her voice trailed off, the inu still turning in sharp pivots, constantly on alert awaiting her attack, “Their vindication will be in the complete and utter destruction of your soul. Your reprobate soul shall merely cease to exist; pushed from it’s host body to simply disappear.”

In his mind’s eye, he could see her sneering at him, her singular silver eye alight with a unveiled malice that would’ve made his dear mother proud. Sesshoumaru bared his teeth, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He was not scared to die, nor did he fear his soul not passing into the afterlife; it was the thought of his freedom being stolen. It was the thought of her adding his defunct body to her collection; of not knowing what would happen after his consciousness dispersed.

Sesshoumaru liked being in the role of ascendancy, he was the definition of a creature of habit; he did not take well to losing control of a situation. Feeling threatened, his primal instincts kicked in; his eyes darkening to crimson, the exotic striations on his cheeks thickened and grew jagged.

“Mmm, I like the look… It suits you,” her voice floated around him, her essence brushing against his youkai causing him to twist and snarl; his heightened senses were no help in revealing her being, “It’s too bad you won’t be around to make that expression for me again.”

He felt it; the sudden influx of power curling to his left. With narrowed eyes he turned to see a sphere of swirling energies a mere second or two from engulfing him. With no time to move Sesshoumaru crossed his arm over his chest, instinctively ducking his chin down as he braced for the blow.

Sesshoumaru felt his body burn, felt the tingles sparking at his nerve endings before evolving, electrocuting him. At first he tried to hold on to some semblance of control, clenching his eyes shut against the pain. A roar tore from his throat with such intensity that the Daiyoukai was almost certain he could taste his own coppery blood.

He wanted to heave; his lungs burned ferociously as did his throat – he stomach knotted painfully. Everything hurt all over, Sesshoumaru had never experienced such physical torture. He would have dropped to his knees if the pain hadn’t straight-legged him. He could feel the blood pounding through his ever-constricting veins and arteries, feel his heart thudding harder in his chest- his head felt like it would burst like a ripe melon.

Pain, all he knew was pain. There was no breath left in his lungs to cry out his anguish, yet his uncomprehending jaw remained open, silently echoing his agony to the heavens. Every muscle in his body contracted, strained tight like an over-stretched elastic, his joints all pulled ridgid to their complete extension.

Vaguely he felt Tenseiga pulse at his side. Once. Twice.

And then it all abruptly ended.  

 

A/N: This will be my shortest chapter. I am creating a long-running, slow-developing fan-fic. This is no PWP; if that's what you're here for perhaps this is not the fic for you, lemons/limes will be involved in later installments. Drop me a line to leave a review, I will also compile a list of readers who would liketo receive each installment personally e-mailed to them. If this is of interest, send me a quick request to Shadow7272@hotmail.com

Thanks and see you next time!