Land by Chronotope

Land

Earth, land, ground, home, love. Humans and demons are equally attached to these things; there is a sense of solidarity, a sense of belonging. Earth is the origin of everything and balances the cycle of life and death.

The lord of the land was unhappy. What made the villagers so cheerful? A prince of demons, from the highest clan, of the oldest house, did not know the answer. They did not have power, they were not gentry, and they were not rich. What was it that made these inborn, ignorant people so fond and caring of the earth and life around them? The lord decided to find the answer to his questions and visited a hamlet in his lands, to see once and for all how, and why, these people were happy.

The hamlet smelled of unwashed bodies, feces, and other odors that assaulted his nose. The prince was an image of prosperity and health, standing over six feet tall, pale skin and long, white hair, was the physique of his clan. His robes were of the greatest expense, Chinese silk and muslin, dyed with indigo and amethyst crescents. Hair tied back, as was the property for one of his status, and with deep-gold eyes, he stared out at the miserable life of these humans. Wretched.

Putting a scent-blot up to his delicate nostrils, the lord, followed by his faithful retainer, approached a man. "You there, old man." It was neither a command nor question, simply a statement of acknowledgment for the existence of the human male. The man fell to his knees, making a large 'splat' as his prostrated in the mud beneath him.

"What do you ask of me, o lord?" The man asked. He was old, his spotted and bald head showing years of toil in the rice paddies. He had scars and age marks, the years had not been kind to him. Even his field kimono was of the roughest material that of the heavy cotton bags used to transport rice and vegetables long distances. Even with his rough appearance, his soul did not seem heavy or dark.

"You do not have money, power, beauty, or lineage, and yet you are happy. Explain this." Demanding this of the terrified subject, the prince scowled as the man started to stammer.

"M… Milord! Of course you, the supreme law, know t-that family and toiling in the soil is what makes a man happy. M-my wife and five children k-keep me alive." The man replied, his forehead pressing against the muddy ground. He was terrified of the demon prince, and he dared not move until specifically told otherwise.

"I see." The prince replied, and looked at his retainer. "Pay the man." The retainer scampered over, giving the man a sack of gold coins.

The old man’s eyes lit up, a different sort of fire suddenly appearing in his soul, not one of the simple farmer from before, one that had understood his purpose in life, but now one of ambition, and potentially danger. "T-thank you m-my lord! I can afford the medicine my youngest daughter needs. T-thank you!" Bowing again, his body covered in mud, the man ran towards a small hut in the distance.

Filth. Scowling as he left the hamlet, the prince took care not to look at any more of the humans that prostrated in his wake. They were disgusting creatures, living pitiful, tiny lives, focused on nothing but the most basic of survival. It didn't make any sense to the lord, how could family and toiling in the baking sun keep a man alive? It seemed as if it would kill him, rather than preserve him. The prince returned to his castle, planning on asking his father many questions.

"Father." The prince kneeled in front of the Moon King, lord to the entire Western territory.

"Yes, my son?" The king replied, a demon of immense power and beauty. He and the prince shared the same, strikingly pale and marble appearance. The king, however, had an air of heat around him, while the prince was as cold as the marble he kneeled on.

The prince raised his head, looking at his father. "I visited a hamlet today, and I encountered something very disturbing, I approached a local man and he said that wealth is not what one needs to be happy, nor blue blood. But rather… Rather, he said family." The lord scowled, as if this were an insult, his pale lips set in a harsh line.

The king closed his eyes, sighing softly, before regarding his son. "You have much to learn before you can rule and command men. Men cannot survive solely with material possessions, and until you learn what it means to live fully, you may never inherit your true place; this throne." He laid a weary gaze upon his son, slowly motioning around the throne room.

Aghast, the prince nodded, quickly leaving the throne room. It was an impossible notion, him not receiving the crown and title of this land, this land he had protected for countless years. The prince returned to his quarters, feeling like a chastised child.

Some days later, there was a report of a bandit raid on a local hamlet, specifically the one the prince had gone to. Taking himself, and three of his best men, the prince set out quickly to defend the land of his father. He would show the king that he was, in fact, ready and able to rule and command.

When he arrived with his soldiers, the prince was struck with a deep feeling of remorse. Fields were on fire, huts and other buildings had been burned to the ground, and corpses lay everywhere. The prince walked among the bodies, noting that one was of the old man he had given the gold coins to just days before. Such carnage and wreckage, where the poor and killed by the desperate, how could this brutal life be reconciled with its weak return of life and love?

Bending down, he checked the man’s pulse, seeing if he was still in the world of the living. The man was dead. Gently shutting the old man's eyes with his left hand, the prince stood, looking out at the carnage. From the few remaining villagers, it was found that the bandits had attacked because one of the farmers supposedly had a sack of royal gold hidden away. The old men had been showing it off in the town square hours before, proclaiming a new life for his family, that he would move in to the royal city and live a comfortable life for his remaining years.

Upon hearing these words, the prince’s stomach dropped. He had caused this pain upon these people; he was the one solely responsible. His influence, his ideals, had created all of this. Looking down at the man again, he remembered the farmer speaking of his wife and children. "Has anyone found any children or youths?" The lord asked, and all he received were blank stares and soft 'no's. Most of the remaining villagers were too traumatized to even recount where and when the attack started from, and could offer little information.

Feeling obligated, the prince left the decimated hamlet, searching the woods surrounding it, looking for any sign of life. He followed a path of broken twigs and blood, his sensitive nose picking up trace scents of fear and pain. Thinking the worse, he stepped over a stream, before continuing on.

The prince was following the trail in the woods for some time, the sun setting to the west. Hours had passed, and his royal escort was sure to be worried. He was just about to turn to leave when he noticed the scent trail stopped a bit further up, and ascended a small crest of roots, and was stunned at what he found.

A young girl, no older then sixteen, lay on the rocky forest floor. Her kimono was ripped apart, the remnants of male ejaculation was spread all across her body. Her face was bruised and battered, and her inner thighs were bleeding where they had rubbed against armor. Her long black hair had gotten tangled in a spiked bush just above her, which what have rendered her impossible to run. Appalled at the human suffering, the prince took a step back, raising his hand to cover the stench of the ravished girl. He would have thought her dead, if not for her shallow breathing.

She had some consciousness left in her, and she turned, staring at him with deep blue eyes, uttering two simple words, "Help me." Her voice was shaky, and it was obvious that a few of her teeth were loose.

Taking another step back, the lord felt his mind race, and he became scared, scared of human evil, pain, and treachery. He couldn't stand to look, or smell the girl anymore, and he turned around, fleeing back to his escort.

Her words rang in his head. The pathetic, soft voice haunting him as he and his escort returned through the palace’s gates. He quickly left his troops, separating himself from the royal court as much as possible.

He wandered along the back wall of the palace, hiding in the shadows of the wall as the moon started to rise for the night. It became too much; clasping his hands over his head, he tried to block out the words, but they permeated his brain, his psyche. Hands shaking, he dropped to his knees, staring at the cobblestones underneath him.

He felt tears well up, and he almost lost his inner self, feeling a beast tear at his feeble mind. Shuddering, he shook his head, holding back his tears. His stone-cold mind returned. He had done nothing wrong. The farmer was an idiot; he should have refused the payment, or spent it immediately, not brag and show every damned person of that village.

Standing, he took a shaky breath, placing a hand on the hilt of one of his swords. He had done nothing wrong.

The prince continued to have visions of the girl, days, weeks, months, and years after he had abandoned her. His mind was plagued with her appearance and her words. His dreams were filled with the sound of her shaky breathing, of her plea for help.

The prince felt his mind splinter about seventy years later, and one day he left the court of his father, taking off the band of his noble status from around his head. Leaving it on his father's throne, the prince left the land of his ancestors, traveling out into world.

He walked through hundreds of towns, he saw thousands of people, and he experienced almost every sensation that a being could. He wandered for decades, attempting to see and feel it all. Eventually his retainer found him, some twenty years later, announcing his father’s death, and the need for him to return to the Moon Palace and to take up his role. The prince refused, he needed to stay in the world of man.

He had experienced everything, except for one thing, one precious, little thing that he needed to feel; love. The prince would cringe each time he saw lovers appear. Each time he saw the happy, carefree smile of a young woman who was either admiring him, or another man.

Ten years later, the prince came upon the lands of his banished half-brother, which were on the Eastern outskirts of his Father's domain. His brother was not officially recognized, a bastard from one of his father's many travels across the world, and a half-demon at that. The prince approached the border of his brother's lands. He had traveled for almost a century to reach this place, and yet he was uncertain, up until the very last moment.

The prince entered the dark woods, the marker of the petty territory allotted to his half-brother.  His ears were heightened to any sound, watching for any sign of movement. Body tense, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, whipping it out as he heard a branch crack behind him.

"Oh! You startled me!" A feminine voice called out, one that had haunted him for one hundred years.

Turning around quickly, the prince was surprised to see a girl standing a few feet off from him. Her clothes were unusual, and she was taller, healthier looking then many of the women in this area. Her hair was dark and laid flat on her back, large blue eyes staring at him with warmth and friendliness, and showed no weakness.

She waved her hand towards the lord, not having any hesitancy towards him, not intimidated or scared. She seemed so full of love, so full of life that the prince felt his body and soul call out to her, but he suppressed the feeling, instead addressing her. "Wench, where is the lord of this land?"

She scowled, and she put her hands on her hips, taping her left foot against the ground. She wore odd, leather shoes, and her kimono hardly covered the necessities, the green skirt going down to just above the knee. "My name isn't 'wench'! It's Kagome! Get it? Ka-go-me!"

The lord was taken back at her, and he let out a growl, moving forward. His old personality flared up, the need for propriety, to be addressed as her superior, his nobility to be recognized. Her impudence needed to be punished. Raising a hand to slap her, she glared up at him with large, blue eyes. His hand quavered, and he slowly lowered it. "Answer my question, Ka-go-me."

She glared at him, and crossed her arms, letting out a large sigh. "There is no lord of the land here, only the half-demon called Inuyasha, but he isn't here right now."

The prince nodded slowly, studying the girl. She smelled of his brother, Inuyasha, perhaps she was his wench. "And why are you here, with him?" This made his blood boil, a sudden envy that the possibility of this woman, this woman that was so similar to the one he had abandoned, had been taken by someone else.

Kagome moved to answer, but was interrupted, "That's none of your business, now is it, brother?" A husky voice called out from the tree behind him.

Kicking himself mentally to be caught unaware in enemy territory, the prince turned around, seeing his half-brother balanced in nearby tree. His garb was garishly red, causing the prince to become even more annoyed at the intrusion. "And are you collecting human wenches now, Inuyasha?" The prince asked, his eyes narrowed with suppressed rage.

He heard an angry huff from the girl behind him, and the half-demon let out a laugh. "Hardly." His voice turned menacing, and the half-demon dropped to the ground, approaching the prince. "I suggest you leave now… Or get out of my sight for the time being, I don't have time to put up with you." The half-demon cracked his knuckles, bearing his fangs and claws to the prince.

The prince scowled, and consented, it would be foolish to fight Inuyasha when he was in unfamiliar surroundings, especially when he was technically the interloper. Turning, he left the clearing without a word.

After that fated meeting he watched the two for some time, his gaze and thoughts constantly focused on the girl. They traveled across the country, and the two never seemed to notice they were being followed, or they didn't consider the prince a threat. Annoyed at the later possibility, the prince would sometimes make himself known, in hopes of observing the girl closer, to find out who she truly was. Each time he tried to make contact, Inuyasha interfered, and the lord had to submit to the half-demon’s power in his domain. At one point the two managed to have a full on fight at the late king’s tomb, and the prince unwittingly giving some of his inheritance to his half-brother; the sword Tessaiga.

Even after that fight, one which cost him an arm, he still admired Kagome. The girl was not like other girls, and he quickly found that she possessed many quirks. Often he would follow her to hot springs that she regularly bathed in, using strange liquids from bottles made of a substance he didn't know. She was also a holy priestess, something which surprised him even more, especially granted her demeanor and manner of dress. On first glance, she looked like a commonplace harlot, but as the lord was often quickly corrected of that mistake.

The prince followed the two, their ranks growing as more humans, and a young fox demon, entered the group. The lord felt the yearnings for companionship, pangs that reminded him of his home, and his duties, and yet… He could not leave this girl, not after he had searched for her for so long.

He watched them for a year, then another, then another.

The third year, things changed. The girl and her companions were thrown into a battle, fighting against a horrible monster that had engulfed the holy jewel they had been pursuing. The girl had tried to battle, to participate in protecting and aiding the group, but his brother had forbidden it, he had stopped her each time. Fool, the prince thought to himself as the battle reached a level of utter despair, she is your strength.

As if hearing his words, the girl jumped into the fray at the last moment, sending out a single, purifying arrow. That arrow blasted the monster away, purifying the land for miles around, but it broke something inside of the girl. She dropped to the ground, blood pouring out of her mouth, the girl clutching her side. Desperate, she fell to her right side, her short kimono sullied with her own blood and dirt. She was going to die.

The lord watched, his brother was useless, out cold hundreds of yards away. The two other humans had been slain, or were severely injured; the fox demon was nowhere to be seen.

There was no one to help this girl, no one but him. The prince approached slowly, unsure of how to act around the dying girl. She stared up at him, just as the one he had seen so long ago in the forest had done. Her blue eyes were wide, and she uttered the same two words, "help me."

This time, the prince did not hesitate. He unsheathed a sword from his side, the blade completely transparent, and seemed to be made of blue and silver rays of the moon. Slashing down, he cut across her chest, just inches away from her flesh, the chains of death disappearing. Another cut, this time directly to her body, healed the girl of her wounds, but she was unconscious.

The prince kneeled down, lightly touching her face with his hand. He had been haunted by her ghost for over a century, but he had saved her this time, he had heard her plea. Leaning down, he cradled her petite frame against his own, contemplating his next move.

He kneeled there, for what seemed to be hours. Finally, the girl, Kagome, awoke, and looked at him, a smile coming to her face. "You saved me." She whispered softly, her eyes tired.

"Yes." The prince's voice was hoarse, his soul filled with emotion. He understood the feelings he had for this girl, for the soul he had lost eons ago, it was love. All this time, his father had tried to teach him one thing. All this time, he had been searching for something that was in front of him, for something that was feasible.

He felt tears, held back for years, spring freely from his eyes. The girl's gentle hands cupped his head, and she gave him another loving smile. Leaning over her, the lord felt the sobs rack his body. How long had he held them in? How long had he felt guilty over the girl's death and suffering from so long ago? How long had he yearned for affection, for love, for acceptance?

"Sesshomaru?" The girl asked, a puzzled tone on her voice.

The prince smiled; yes that was his name, Sesshomaru. He had almost forgotten after centuries of being addressed as a formal noble title, the title of his station becoming him, rather than his given name. "Yes?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"Do you love me?"

He nodded slowly, and his heavy white tresses, long from years spent in the wilderness, getting into his eyes. "Yes, I do. I love you."

"Good." She whispered in reply, and leaned up, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I have loved you ever sense I first saw you in the forest, those three years ago."

The lord felt himself smile, and hugged the tiny priestess to his chest. She was his savior; she was the beacon of light in his sorrow. She was the ray of warmth and love that his cold soul had yearned for, for eons. She was the lesson that his father had wanted him to understand all those years ago; the need for someone else and for that deep, human, connection. "You have saved me, dear Kagome, you have saved me."