Though neither was aware of the other doing so, Ito was not the only youkai to visit Earth that day.
In a flash of light, bright but tinged on the edges with a deep blackness, Tanaki reappeared in Kisaki’s study along with three of Midnite’s other servants.
Though the sending chamber was the normal place of transport to other worlds – the spells woven into its framework specifically designed to aid in sending magic – it wasn’t the only means of egress from the celestial palace. This was especially true where the daimao were concerned.
Midnite dismissed the spell, a concentration of energy in the form of a sending circle, once her servants returned. To keep it active was to risk it being sensed by her siblings, something she very much preferred not happen.
She immediately noted the lack of her daughter or Shitoro among them, worry continuing to etch her face. “Anything, Tanaki?”
The badger youkai averted her eyes and gave a single shake of her head. “No, mistress. We scoured the island where you sent Shitoro, but with little luck. We found residual traces of his scent along with that of your daughter, but there was no sign of them otherwise.”
“First Kisaki and now Shitoro,” Midnite said to herself. “What is afoot on that world?”
“Wherever they are, my lady, I believe they are together.” She nodded to the canine youkai standing by her side. “Kita?”
The larger youkai nodded in deference to Tanaki. “If it pleases you, my lady, I believe that Shitoro was able to locate your daughter. I found his scent mingled with hers.”
“That is no surprise,” Midnite replied. “Shitoro was sent to the same spot Kisaki would have appeared.”
“I beg pardon,” the dog youkai said, “but I do not believe that is the case. The age of their lingering scents matched. They stood upon the beach together. I am certain of it. But they were not alone. I also detected the scent of a human there.”
“The entire planet is full of humans, Kita.”
“As I am aware, and indeed the sand reeked of them. But one in particular matched the age of Shitoro and Kisaki’s scents.”
“Are you certain?” Midnite asked.
“Yes, my lady.”
“Where did they go?”
Kita glanced sidelong at Tanaki, who again nodded. “That is difficult to know. They did not appear to go anywhere. Kisaki’s scent approached from the direction of a place of gathering for the humans. Shitoro’s was from elsewhere. I believe he had been scouring the island for your daughter, and that is where he finally found her. Both scents lead to that same spot, but then go no further.”
“Do you think this human is responsible for my daughter’s disappearance?”
“No, I do not.”
Midnite considered this. She debated arguing with the youkai, but then stopped herself. Kita was her best tracker. Her nose was exceptional even among her own kind. It was why Midnite had asked her to go on this risky mission after Shitoro failed to return. If she said something was so, then Midnite had no cause to doubt her. “Please continue.”
“Thank you, mistress,” Kita said with a deferential bow. “The scent was from a young human. Female, just entering the flower of womanhood but not fully grown. I very much doubt such a being could be responsible for abducting your daughter.”
“I will remind you that my daughter is no warrior. She has lived her entire life between these walls, sheltered from those who would do her harm.”
“I meant no disrespect, my lady,” Kita quickly added, “but your blood flows in Kisaki’s veins. Surely that makes her far more than a mere human.”
Midnite’s eyes narrowed. Worry was making her temper short. She was aware that some hanyou were born with powers. Occasionally, they mimicked that of their parents, but just as often, they were an odd quirk of the mixing of human and divine blood. But Kisaki had never shown any such talents. It was something Shitoro had been told to be mindful of. So far as she was aware, Kisaki was essentially human, albeit with a greatly exaggerated lifespan. Considering her sheltered upbringing, that made her vulnerable not only to youkai, but to other humans as well.
“There is also Shitoro to consider,” Tanaki quickly added. “He is more than capable of dealing with a lone human.”
Finally, Midnite’s expression softened and she nodded for them to continue.
“There is also one additional oddity. The human’s scent ended abruptly at the same time as Shitoro’s and Kisaki’s,” Kita said. “Wherever they were sent, I believe the human accompanied them.”
“Sent?” Midnite asked. “Why would you use that word?”
“I can find no other reason for their sudden disappearance,” Kita explained. “There is also...” She trailed off as if uncertain how to continue.
“Kita?”
“I cannot be certain, my lady. There were many odors present, some quite alien to me. But I could have sworn that I caught the faintest trace of miasma there as well.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Ichitiro’s bad mood had passed, but his good moods were often not much better. Indeed, he was sometimes crueler when his spirits were high. When he was in a foul temper, he often took it out upon his surroundings, creating a mess for his servants to clean up, but leaving them relatively intact. When he wasn’t occupied with destroying his chambers, that meant he was more likely to do something that meant pain and suffering for those who lived to serve him.
He was a stark contrast to Midnite, who considered her youkai’s loyalty to be something worth earning. Ichitiro thought nothing of the sort. Those who served him did so absolutely, out of fear or awe of his power. To show him anything less than the most groveling subservience was to invite disaster.
If anything, it had been even worse before Reiden had laid down his edict against travel. In the past, if a youkai displeased Ichitiro, he could kill them and have them replaced within the hour. Now, he was forced to be more mindful. His pool of servants was limited. He couldn’t steal other youkai from his siblings and force them to do his bidding, not without being noticed. And, despite his lack of respect for Reiden’s orders, any new youkai brought to the palace would be quickly noticed. As such, he was forced to curb his baser nature, but only by a bit. The healing properties available in the palace were more than enough to ensure that the only way one of Ichitiro’s servants perished was if he truly wished it to happen.
As such, he took great satisfaction in his current meal – a small monkey youkai, normally tasked with cleaning the upper reaches of Ichitiro’s domain that the other servants had trouble reaching.
Not today, though. The monkey’s screams as Ichitiro ripped off an arm and began to strip the flesh from the appendage were music to his ears, a serenade to aid his digestion. He imagined the monkey was Crag, the overbearing mazoku he’d hired to track down Midnite’s bastard offspring and, more importantly, the Taiyosori.
It still seemed such an absurd concept to him, that one so low could do such a thing. However, Ichitiro was not one to let the potential for opportunity pass. At the very least, it served as an amusing distraction from the normal boredom that the palace offered.
He could have conscripted some other demon to do his bidding, one that could have tracked the hanyou and reported back to him without bringing any undue attention to themselves. But that was precisely why he had paid Crag. The mazoku was battle hardened and experienced, but he was also known for being stupid and shortsighted when his dander was up. For over seventy years, Crag had stewed on Earth. Ichitiro was certain the fool was spoiling for a fight after all this time. He suspected that Crag would barrel ahead like a petulant child, causing chaos and death wherever he stepped.
Ichitiro wanted war with the humans. A brute like Crag was just the tool to make mankind once more painfully aware that they shared their puny world with superior beings. Even Reiden would be hard-pressed to ignore such an occurrence.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
The only potential wildcard to his plan was the Taiyosori, if indeed it turned out to be in possession of the hanyou. It was well known that Crag was displeased with his place in the cosmic order. He resented the daimao, much as Ichitiro resented the elder gods.
In the hands of a weakling hanyou, the Taiyosori might as well be no better than a shard of worthless glass. But if Crag killed it and subsequently seized control of the weapon for himself, it could make him a potential threat.
Ichitiro did not think that scenario likely, but he was no fool. After Ito had healed sufficiently, he’d commanded the ferret to Earth to spy on Crag. If he was successful in his mission and somehow managed to attain the weapon, Ichitiro would be notified immediately so that he could take proper action against the mazoku – preferably before his siblings were able to mobilize.
A slight tingle in the back of his mind caused Ichitiro to pause before he could tear off the monkey’s other arm. He smiled, revealing his sharp, blood-stained teeth. It was almost as if his very thoughts had summoned the little youkai.
The doors to Ichitiro’s inner chamber opened and Ito scrambled in, practically tripping over himself in the process. The pathetic runt of a youkai dropped to his knees before the daimao and began prostrating himself. It was tiresome, but not entirely unexpected. Despite his recent healing bath, the scars from their last meeting were still visible beneath Ito’s mangy coat.
His meal forgotten, he tossed the bleeding monkey to the side and turned to the ferret.
“My lord and master,” Ito squeaked. “If it pleases you, I seek an audience.”
“Yes, yes, on with it,” Ichitiro said with an impatient wave of his hand.
“Thank you, my lord.”
Ichitiro couldn’t help but notice the little youkai seemed nervous, even more so than usual. He sincerely hoped the ferret wasn’t here to report failure. Ichitiro could not let such incompetence stand. He would have the youkai flayed, and this time, no healing bath would be drawn. “Speak now or feel my wrath.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“What of the hanyou?”
“A female, my lord. I overheard her friends call her Kisaki.”
“Kisaki?” Ichitiro rolled it over his tongue a few times. “A weak name for a pathetic creature. You are certain she is my sister’s bastard offspring?”
“I have little doubt, my lord. She looks very much like Lady Midnite, save her hair and skin. It is as if your sister were reborn as a human.”
Ichitiro bared his teeth. “Regardless of my disdain for my brethren, know that I will not tolerate any daimao being insulted as such by the likes of you. Tread lightly, Ito. I shall not warn you again.”
“My apologies!” The ferret began to prostrate himself again, smacking his head against the floor each time he bowed.
Eventually, the daimao waved for him to stop. Much more and he’d knock himself senseless, which would do little to sate Ichitiro’s curiosity.
“Thank you, my lord,” he said groggily, blood dripping from the top of his head.
“Get back to it. The hanyou is dead, yes?”
“No, my lord.”
Ichitiro sat up straight in his chair. “Are you telling me that Crag failed to find her?”
“No, master. He found her. Brought youkai with him and attacked a human settlement, just as you wisely foretold.”
Ichitiro smiled. Ah, Crag, so stupidly predictable. If the hanyou was alive, that meant she escaped him somehow. Perhaps the storm giant was losing his touch. Too much time spent living in the trees, doing little more than picking gnats from his fur. “Did he destroy the human settlement?”
“He tried, my lord.”
“Tried?”
“Indeed, he caused great damage with his powers, but it still stands.”
Ichitiro began to grind his teeth. He was starting to get annoyed. Sadly, Crag wasn’t here to vent that annoyance on. But Ito was. “So the hanyou escaped and Crag pursued her, leaving the town standing. So be it. Where is he now and is he still hunting her?”
“No, my lord. Crag lies dead in the human settlement. The hanyou vanquished him.”
“What?!” Ichitiro slammed both fists down onto the arms of his throne, shattering the thick stony material, then stood up. Of all the scenarios he had planned for, this hadn’t even remotely been a consideration. Crag the hunter laid low by a mongrel hanyou? “If you are making this up, Ito, I promise your suffering shall know no end.”
“Never, my lord,” the youkai screeched, glancing toward the door as if contemplating his chances for escape.
Ichitiro noted to himself that if his servant was in such a panic, then perhaps he was telling the truth. “How did this happen?”
“The Taiyosori, my lord,” Ito replied. “The hanyou wielded it against Crag and laid him low by its blade.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Ichitiro commanded Ito to recount everything he saw, down to the minute detail. For a being who had witnessed the infancy of time, who had fought the entropic chaos, and who had battled myriad creatures on countless worlds, the daimao still found himself utterly stupefied by what he heard.
Much of the Taiyosori’s history was shrouded in mystery, even to him, but so far as he was aware, nothing short of a god had ever wielded it in battle. Though Midnite was given possession of it, he had never actually seen her use it in anger. He had barely seen her wield it at all, aside from occasionally handling it to remind her siblings of its true ownership.
For a filthy half-demon to touch it and live was unthinkable, but for such a lowly creature to wield the weapon was almost beyond even his ability to grasp.
Wielding was not the same as mastering, though, he considered. Perhaps the girl’s blood, some small morsel of divinity inside her that remained untainted, had somehow fooled the Taiyosori. Ito had said the girl resembled her mother. Was it possible this connection managed to temporarily confuse the legendary blade of a thousand cuts? According to Ito, the girl had not wielded it for long. She’d simply lopped Crag’s head off, a relatively easy task for a weapon rumored to be the sharpest edge in all of creation. All it required was an arm to swing it.
Yes, that had to be it. The hanyou wielded the Taiyosori, but she was not its true master. A quirk of her loathsome birth, that was all.
Once again, Ichitiro sensed opportunity. Before him lay the chance he had waited eons for.
If the Taiyosori was confused, fooled into thinking the hanyou was Midnite, then if someone were to slay the hanyou and claim the blade, the right of transference would be fulfilled. He would be acknowledged as the sword’s new master, and the blade of a thousand cuts would sit fallow no longer. It would taste blood, bathe in it, as it had not done in ages untold.
He looked down and smiled at where Ito continued to cower. The youkai had done well after all. Ichitiro would not compliment him for it, or even acknowledge such, but he would allow the pathetic beast to survive this day with no further suffering. If anything, he now had far more important matters to worry about than the thieving little rodent.
The time for inaction was over. It was now time for...
There came a booming knock from his outer chamber door.
Who?
For a moment, paranoia set in. Though he’d barely just made them, Ichitiro became certain that his plans had been found out, that the other daimao knew what he was plotting. But he quickly dismissed it as a mere side effect of his ultimate victory being so near. So what if the others had found out? He hadn’t acted yet. And even if he had, none of them, not even Midnite herself, would choose an untouchable hanyou over him.
He gestured for Ito to answer the door and the little ferret youkai obeyed without hesitation. As he did so, Ichitiro spared a glance down at the floor. The monkey youkai had been removed by his other servants. Not so much as a drop of blood remained.
He smiled, but it quickly turned into a grimace as he spied a massive, red-skinned oni standing at the door.
Whereas most daimao used the small youkai of the castle as their heralds, Reiden insisted on keeping this loathsome troll in his employ. As strong as they were stupid, oni were often best put to use as shock troops in the field. Their massive forms and tendency to ignore pain until they were killed made them excellent cannon fodder.
Ichitiro often wondered if Reiden used it in a sad attempt to intimidate others. If so, this gambit failed where he was concerned. “What is it, Klortho?” he asked in a bored tone.
The towering oni entered and bowed its ungainly form before Ichitiro. “Lord Reiden requests your presence in the council chamber,” he answered in a gruff voice. “He wishes to reconvene the court to continue discussing the matter of Earth.”
“I am busy.”
“Lord Reiden requests your presence in the council chamber,” Klortho repeated.
Ichitiro’s good mood evaporated in an instant. He knew the lumbering clod would keep at it no matter what he or the others said. Perhaps that was the true reason Reiden used him. Oni obeyed without question and were near impossible to bargain with. The brute would stand there until such time as his master’s demands were acknowledged. As much as Ichitiro might want to reduce him to a pile of steaming guts, it would only incite Reiden’s wrath.
He did not particularly fear his brother, but Reiden led the celestial court, and his edicts could serve to make Ichitiro’s plans difficult.
Fortunately, he knew how his elder brother operated. Everything he did was dictated by procedure and debate. It was a wonder he ever left his chambers at all without first convening a caucus to discuss the matter.
“Very well,” Ichitiro said. “Tell your master I will be there in short order. I have a small issue to attend to, though. Have him start without me.”
Klortho appeared to ponder this in his mudball of a brain for a moment or two. Finally, he nodded. “I will tell my master.” With no further business, the large oni bowed, turned, and left without so much as another word.
Excellent! It wasn’t unheard of for members of the court to be late, or not show up at all, though they risked forfeiting their say in matters. At the very least, they would earn themselves a tiresome lecture on the need for keeping order in the multiverse and how that order stemmed from what they did.
He’d heard it all before but was beyond such concerns now.
By the time Reiden’s impotent session got underway, Ichitiro would be paying a visit to Earth. He would not be able to mask his departure from his siblings. Even if he used one of his crystals to make the journey, the passage of his immense power signature would still be felt. He was connected to this place, as were all of his brethren. However, he could throw them off his scent by traveling to a different location immediately. His departure from the celestial palace could be sensed, but once on Earth, it would be far more difficult for them to track him, at least until he unleashed a significant portion of his power – something he sincerely doubted would be necessary.
Yes, that was the ticket. Even once they sensed he was gone, there would be plenty of time. Reiden would wish to discuss the matter rather than pursue him. That could take hours, days, perhaps even years.
It was quite possible that, in the time it took his brother to reach a consensus among the others, Ichitiro would have already retrieved the Taiyosori and returned to claim his rightful place as ruler of the universe.