Crash of swords by Carlotta (Lotty Queen)

Prelude: I send you, my son

Summary: The Sacred Virgin must be preserved. In order to do so the Moon's Knight is sent by the Lord of the Shining Castle to her rescue.

A fantasy fairy-tale among dragons, demons, nymphs and a raged miko. Woods and blades, fearless warriors.

A touching, prohibited love story between a maiden and a demon, in an alternative Feudal Japan.

The walls were so cold and damp, big stones embedded in the smutty rock; even the air was so terribly grave. She picked off some moss while going through the tunnels hollowed in the heart of the sacred mountain, the Hakureizan. Panting by the endeavor in scrambling through those dirty passages, so narrow and suffocating, she breathed heavily, her legs aching in every step she took, her hands grasping every outstanding object to avoid the slippery spots. Maybe she would have been punished, after all, she had ruined the pure white cloth of her dress, which had to be always perfect, as a symbol of her status, but in the end, that wasn't a problem.

She had no memories of what had been before her life in that temple, sometimes she even thought she wasn't a human being. She had no knowledge of what happened out of those tunnels, the Library, the Secret Garden and the Chapel, all she knew was from the manuscripts she had read to become, someday, an acculturated woman. This way she had learned that normal people have families and live in villages and work hard to survive. She was glad to have read that, because she was sure she could have never imagined something so difficult to be the everyday life. On the other hand, normal people were free to do whatever they needed, they wished; they could have wanted.

She sighed. It was not as if she was sad about the life she had, on the contrary she counted herself lucky. She hadn't to suffer, to strain her energies. Her days were dedicated to study and in improving her abilities. All the other things hadn't to be her occupations, for the Nymph fed her and a centuries years old mummy was her master.

All around the mountain there was a sacred barrier, erected by the saint mummy, Hakushin Shonin-sama, who had had a very harsh life and was now confined there to make sure no youkai could reach her, the Sacred Virgin. She didn't know the reason why people called her that, she only knew she was somehow special and had to behave differently from others. She had no past, and no future, she had no memories and no hope. Yet, she thought that her lonely life, when compared to others' lives, was far happier.

She reached a luminous spot, where reflected were some golden glares. Rousing the hem of her long skirt from the dusty path she was walking on now, she sadly noticed it was a little filthy, yes, she was going to be punished for this. Disheartened, she continued walking, snatching every so often some grip when needed and trying her best not to make worse the situation. When the bright rays became almost blinding, she protected her face with her right arm, the flared sleeve falling right before her eyes, while her free hand desperately handled the algid wall, following the usual way in hope to not find unpleasant surprises.

When she could finally reopen her eyes, she was in front of an arch, an old flinty arch of granite, with two columns on each side and a large lintel, decorated with the bas-relief of an epic battle between Angels and Giants. Her preceptor had told her many times of that fight, of how it had been useless, the Angels had returned in the Heavens, serving Deities; the Giants had remained on the Earth, devouring Humans. The only ones allowed to protect Humans at that time were invincible Heroes, but they all perished when Demons arrived here because of the cohesion of our two worlds.

And so many of the Humans became monks, priests and priestess, in order to guarantee a succession to the human race. They sharpened their powers reaching high levels and so became feared by Demons and worshipped by Humans.

The girl admired the fine hand which had chiseled the representation with such realistic traits, asking to herself how it would have been to live at that time. Then she lowered her head and stepped into the dark den, respectfully. That was the Chapel, the place fitted for her prayers to be sent to the Goddess, the Spirit who guarded upon her. She had never seen her, but Hakushin Shonin-sama had told so much about her, too, that it was almost as if she knew her personally. She felt so much affection for her that, sometimes, when she was just a little girl, she called her "mother".

The maiden stopped right before the altar and fell to her knees, in complete devotion. Lifting her head, she gazed at the holy image of the Goddess, drawn as a beautiful woman with very long hair, of an incredible intense and lucid raven. She wore more and a precious kimono, all the coats of a different, enchanting fantasy. When she still didn't know who that woman was, she called her the Queen, for she truly appeared as majestic and as sweet as the little girl thought a real queen should be.

The girl took from a fold in her dress a minute rosary and had already opened her mouth to pray, when suddenly a vision sent her into oblivion. A knight, a full moon, a dark castle standing against the cold wintry sky of a gloomy night....

She sank on the altar, sweat in cascading along her face, gasping for air. Her eyes were so widely opened and so void of any sign of life to scare whoever saw her then. She took a few bottomless breaths, the strong impression that she was going to discover something extremely significant if she hadn't been too frightened to scrutinize that unfathomable revelation. But the most she tried to remember the last thing she had seen, the most the reminiscence became fuzzy, nebulous, until it all seemed just like a vague dream.

Slightly confused, she kneeled once again under the holy image and resumed to pray, her hands joint, her fingers nervously interlaced in a fervent plea to the only one who could accept it.

He abruptly jumped out of the bed. Shivering.

Before he could remember what had happened while he was asleep, the realization of having had a nightmare almost offended him. For he, Sesshoumaru, had never had a nightmare since a year after his mother had passed away, since he was only a helpless child.

He slowly brought a hand to brush aside his fringe, touching his warm forehead, now wet. He shifted his body under the sheets, feeling every muscle and finding he was wearied; as if he had ran during his sleep. He collected every move as calmly removed himself of those dewily silky sheets, wet too, with every single drop of his perspiration. When he could finally feel a fresh breeze, slipping from the half-open window, which caressed his naked form, he let a light moan of relief. After all, that was nothing so important, and today it was a very special day, today all his efforts in becoming invincible would have been prized.

Today he would have met his father, the Lord of the Shining Castle.

He smoothly roused from the warm and comforting spot which had granted him a restoring slumber and grasped a cloth, with whom enveloped his loins, before passing a clawed hand in his silver mane and brushing aside some others locks which had fallen on his shoulders. He wandered around the room for awhile, his pace elegant, his feet smoothly grazing the tatami on the floor. Then his speed became firmer and he opened widely the sliding door and stepped in his private bathroom, where the steam told him his servants had already attended to his routine bath.

He proceeded toward the large pond, now overwhelmed with hot, smoking water. Freeing his body from the last garment which covered it, he slipped in the water, letting his limbs relax completely at the pleasure of abandoning every tension, something he couldn't do usually. He let his head fall on the board of the pond, expanding his chest and inhaling deeply the scent of lavender and vanilla, incenses the traders provided to the palace directly from the countries at East and West of the lands he lived in.

Grasping the sponge near the bottles of luscious oil and essences, he soaked it in the warm liquid, before scrubbing it all over his ivory form. Then he let it float on the water's surface, observing the seducing ripples on the fluid his body caused sloshing it. He took a deep breath before completely diving into the hot water, his eyes closed in satisfaction: a bath like this, he wasn't sure he would have had the occasion to get one so early, it was better to enjoy it while possible. Because in the very moment he would have left that room, his one and only purpose should have been to procure himself immortal kudos, bright memory for eternity.

He was proceeding secure through those passages he so well knew, those walls had seen his childhood, his reckless runs from a wing to another of the palace, his innocent plays with the weapons he knew a day he should have used. They knew the pain of loss, the injured pride hidden in his soul; they knew his envy nature, his confidence in his own strength so unwavering to seem almost arrogant. And they knew his longing for power, more power, unlimited power.

As he arrived in front of the impressive ligneous door of the Major Hall, the many emotions, which threatened to explode inside him, obliged him to require his steel grip on himself. Calm and collected once again, he prepared his mind to the important meeting with his father, the man who had personally handled his elder son's training, making him a feared, skilled, forceful, and an almost almighty combatant.

Regardless of this, Sesshoumaru didn't feel thankful to him, to that sturdy, insuperable demon who was his father. Although he didn't admit it even to himself, he couldn't forget how he had behaved in the past toward his own son. He couldn't nor would he forgive.

The door opened its winds to allow his entrance into the dark, apparently unlimited space that room seemed due to an illusion. He perceived the Lord's immeasurable aura and stepped into the Hall, firmly glaring toward the source of all that extraordinary might, fierceness oozing from each one of his pores.

"I'm here, my Lord."

From the centre of that indefinite space, a flowing puissance began to take form into what seemed to be a man of rare beauty: his flooding silver hair, slightly curled, tied in a high ponytale, rustling at his shoulders; his indented black eyebrows, denoting intelligence and refinement; his molten gold eyes, two ambers set on his angelic face; his stripes and marks, symbols of his elevated rank. The rank his son had inherited.

He was so similar to his son, yet their personalities were so completely different. Nevertheless, he felt so proud of his son, so pleased to see what he had become.

If only he could accept his wife and, of course, his brother, that was the unique shadow on their happiness, he believed.

If he only could learn pity...

If he only could get to know love...

"Sesshoumaru. Come here, my son."

The older man opened his arms in a gesture of welcome, in nothing impeded by the colossal armor and the hulking chest strap. The youth could notice he had worn the most precious obi he had, the one he kept for really significant occasions, such as a meeting between generals after a victory, or the first son's birth, or – he felt disgusted at the thought – his own wedding. However that obi meant that something really special was going to happen that day, in that room.

"Why did you call me, father."

His question wasn't a request; in fact, he rarely used a questioning tone; he never let someone know he needed something from him, he wanted that guy to let him know something. If he needed an answer, he simply got one. If he needed a favor, he simply ordered it.

"You've grown up, Sesshoumaru. You've become a man. You've made me proud of you.

Now it's time for you to get your own life. To obtain this, I'm giving you a mission, a vital mission to fulfill."

The youth nodded in understanding, it was time for him to demonstrate what he was worthy of; it was time to conquest, to give glory to his name.

"I want you to find a girl, she's a very special maiden, perhaps you've heard of her before. However I'll briefly explain it to you.

She's one of the Sacred Virgins, the last one in fact. There's no time to tell you why she's so important and you don't need to know.

Just find her, wherever she is. Find her and bring her here."

The Prince peered at him, his eyes narrowed in irritation at his father for not informing him about all he wanted to know, and a hint of curiosity. A woman so particular to have the Lord of the Shining Castle wanting her by his domain, so much to send his first son and heir to her search. The last element of an extinguished class surrounded by mystery, the last one of a legendary kind, that was all he had ever heard about her and, if there was more, he had not paid attention to what he thought were just ridiculous chats.

The great and magnificent Lord caught the look of hidden curiosity and smiled fatherly.

"I can't fill all your voids, nor answer to your questions. All I know is that she can grant whatever wish, but now she's in serious danger; her purity and chastity are threatened and her life is at risk. I've decided you will be the one to save her from these menaces without a name".

So that was what it was, a maiden's rescue. Even though he still wasn't so convinced, what mattered for him was the mission: he had a responsibility now, he had an order.

And he would have respected it, he would have found that girl, wherever she was, to bring her to his Lord. To get what was his for birthright.

"She's the last Sacred Virgin we have. You must bring her here. And...

You won't be alone. The Queen will come with you. This is...her personal wish."

He was quite surprised, but regained almost instantly his impeccable self-control. It was unusual for her to take interest in these sort of things and, now that he recalled the past events, it was absolutely the first time she left her residence without her...husband. It was rather surprising, then, that she "wished" to meet this famous girl and even a little rash, in his thought. Anyhow this wasn't his concern, just a worriment during the travel.

"The Queen...I see."

And so his father was allowing that woman to leave the palace and face a risky trip, moreover alone in his elder son's company. He perfectly knew the nasty hatred he felt toward that human female; she had not only seduced his father, charming him with some sort of unknown spell, weakening him and, to completely dishonor him, bearing him a devilishly, bastard half-breed. A horrible creature, the incarnation, the living proof of his father's insanity, of his biggest mistake.

But then again, although these were, after all, his family's affairs, it wasn't his concern right now, just a worriment during the travel.

Nevertheless this didn't mean he wasn't going to avenge his father's pitiful destiny, once becoming Lord himself. He didn't mean to directly kill those insects, they were worthless of such an attention; but surely he didn't want to see them ever again.

His father was staring at him, as if trying to read his mind, which obviously he wasn't able to do, he had never been able to understand him.

After awhile, he made a sign to kneel at his feet, which his son, respectfully, complied to do. No matter how that wretched woman had cheated on him in order to be married by him, he remained the Lord, the most powerful being he knew, he hadn't been able to beat yet.

And so he bended his head. Inutaisho pulled out a new sword from a fretted scabbard the Prince had never seen before.

"You have to save her; she is the only one who can realize every desire.

Your brother won't come, since he has decided to protect his woman, a priestess, he can't leave her."

The Prince made a slight grin of disgust at the thought of his worthless half-brother, fallen in further dishonor by mating with a miko, one who should have been a virgin priestess, human no less. His family was precipitating in low disgrace, he had to purify the land sooner or later, or else his name would have been sullied, would have meant shame for the future generations.

But for now the Lord of the Shining Castle had different plans for his first son. He took up the recently made great blade and imposed it right on the edge of his son's armor, hitting the iron until it reverberated. Then he solemnly proffered the ceremonial words, vibrating a sonorous stroke on the youth's chest:

"I commit you a mission; consider it your primary duty, above all else complete it, even at the price of your life."

Sesshoumaru lifted his head and gazed straight in his father's eyes, so similar to his own, a look of profound determination and confidence.

"Find that maiden, my son. Find her and bring her here.

I nominate you Knight of the Moon. Now go."

The knight roused and moved to leave, ready to amaze the future generations, ready to take a extraordinary place in the history of his family.

He was about to exit the enormous wooden door, when the Lord belted out his name, and the youth could not know that was the last time he would get to hear his voice.

"Sesshoumaru!

...Protect Izayoi."

If it was all about that, there was no need to say those words; if something happened to her, he would have appeared as a revengeful bloodthirsty coward, who makes justice at women's expenses.

Without a word, the Prince left the room, the hint of a smirk on his godly visage.

As the Lord watched him going away, an inexplicable feeling of nostalgia took over him: his child had grown up, become a beautiful and valorous warrior, and now was going to fulfill a maybe mortal mission. He found himself coveting that he was still a little pup, playing at the war within the safe walls of the palace; beaming softly, fatherly, he gave him a silent goodbye, wishing him luck.

"Go finding your life. And, if you'll be skilled enough, you'll get the inheritance I've prepared for you, my son. My beloved son."

End Prelude