Prologue
When she thought of ancient battles between good and evil she always pictured torrential rain, bone rattling thunder and flashing lightning; not bright blue skies, sweet smelling air and brilliant sunshine.
It was only fitting that they clashed with the vile demon Obake on such a day; destroying the sweet innocence of such beauty with violence, blood and miasma.
It was almost anticlimactic; Obake’s death. They had been fighting him so long and had him revive so many times; it was hard to believe it was over.
Yet, as she walked over to pick up the tainted jewel; no tentacles came flying toward her, no hidden assassin baldes, no miasma... She picked up the black marble-like jewel, her touch instantly purifying the bobble to an iridescent sky blue.
It was over.
She had always hoped for this day; yet never thought it would come. What did they do now? So many had died...
She stood, starring at the innocent looking bobble in her palm as her friends and allies came to form a circle around her. Every last one of them battered and covered in blood.
“What now?” She asked, chocolate orbs meeting each of her ally’s gazes in turn.
Suddenly the sky darkened and grew heavy. Lightning flashed; blinding them.
“You will hand Cintamani over to us,” a pompous voice spoke from the gloom.
There, where no one had stood moments before, was a young man dressed in dark blue robes, his skin was a pale blueish grey, and pale cream colored hair surrounded his head like a flame.
Beside him stood a petite golden haired woman with pale lavender eyes; from her shoulders rose two large white and grey feathered wings tipped in black.
Behind them, towered two figures in armor; one possessed an ox’s head, it’s long black horns gleamed in the light. The other possessed a horses head, it’s inscors shoved against it’s lower lips like gleaming ivory daggers.
“Who the hell are you?” Ikari snarled, his golden eyes still glowing with the reminants of battle lust as the half demon positioning himself between his mate and this new threat.
“I am Yan, son of Yama, ruler of Narakas;” the stranger said, “it is by his decree that the Cintamani be removed from this plane, so it will never be used for evil again.”
The group was silent; stunned that the Gods would interfere in their quest. All eyes turned to the tiny slip of a woman standing behind the silver-haired form of her mate.
Ayame, mate to the half-youkai Ikari and guardian of the cursed Cintamani stone; calmly regarded the being that claimed he was the son of a god.
“This Yama seeks the power of the Cintamani?” she asked; though soft , her voice held strength and carried easily over the battlefield
The stranger regarded them with mild distain;
“Yama has no need for such a thing.” He replied arrogantly.
Liar, her inner voice whispered; her chocolate eyes narrowed to slits. She had long ago learned to listen to her inner voice; it had yet to lead her astray.
“You lie.” She said, her words causing her companions to fall into fighting stances.
The demi-god sighed; though he was arrogant and thought humans and youkai were beneath him, the group before him had proven their worth.
He had hoped that there wouldn’t be a fight; however, knowing this group as he did, he had not expected they would give up the Cintamani voluntarily.
“The jewel will be safe, priestess;” he said, trying to reassure the courageous human, “regardless of what my father intends to do with it.”
“No.” She said; warm chocolate eyes turning to chips of ice as warning bells went off in her head.
“That wasn’t a request," he said; he felt a fluttering of sadness in his breast at what was about to occur. “If we must, we will take it by force.”
She glanced at her companions and saw the same hard determination in their eyes. They had fought to long and to hard to regain possession of the dangerous artifact; they were not going to give it up without a fight.
“Over my dead body,” Ikari snarled, bandishing his ancestial sword; a weapon said to be able to slay an entire army in a single stroke.
“So be it”.
Without another word, the two beings that flanked the demigod moved forward. Ayame knew instantly who the two monstrousities were: Gozu, the ox-head, and Mezu, the horse-face; judges sent by Yama to collect the souls of the dead.
They fought; years of fighting against creatures stronger then them enabled the group to hold off the two judges.
Seeing that his minions were being forced back; Yan scowled. He would acquire the Cintamani for his father; though he had a grudging respect for the group of fighters, they needed to lay down their arms and surrender to the power of the gods.
With a snap of his fingers; suddenly the warriors were surrounded by shinigami.
Over whelmed by sheer numbers; one by one Ayame watched as her friends fell until she alone held back the demigod’s army.
Suddenly Yan was in front of her; his smile smug.
“The stone please” he said.
She glared at him; the cursed gem clutched to her breast.
“Never,” she hissed; mind frantically searching for a way out.
Her friends were gone. How ironic that they would survive the horrors Obake had release; only to fall to the very gods the she supposedly served.
There had to be a way. Yama could not posess the Cinatamani. She knew this to the very core of her being; she would not relinquish the stone. It is her responsibility, her sacred duty pasted on through the ages from her ancestors to her. She would not dishonor them.
She wished with all her might that there was a way to prevent them from taking the Cintamani. Nothing good would come from their possession of the artifact.
Suddenly, hearing her unspoken wish...the jewel flared to life; swallowing the entire clearing in a brilliant pale blue glow.
