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Chapter One

Prologue ~ One Drop

In the beautiful and mysterious country of Amahara, there once lived a young emperor second in his blood line. He was a remarkable man who cared solely about his people and their well being. During his rule peace was successfully established between the two species that resided within his lands, mortals and youkai. The journey of obtaining peace had been quite challenging. Despite its difficult creation the peace survived with little effort for six generations, that was until that night. A night from ten years ago that would be known as ‘The Vanishing.’ That night the emperor’s palace and the village in which it resided, Shinatae disappeared. The reason behind it’s disappearance would forever be kept secret by the moon.

It wasn’t long before rumors began to spread like wild fire from several travelers who had journeyed to the legendary village of Shinatae. They had expected to find a large village, beaming with life. Full of shops for trade, inns to spend the night, drinking and dining halls to enjoy, performers begging for money and food, beautiful women, strong men, many playful children and the occasional thief or beggar. But instead where the Shinatae’s gates should have greeted them, there was nothing. In the village’s place there was an unnatural dirt that gave the illusion of a black void of death. The place where Shinatae once stood was later given a different name. It made sense to everyone since Shinatae was gone and would not return. Many said the place was cursed, and as a warning it was given the name, Shikai, which means “As lifeless as cold ashes.” There were no ruins to show there had once been buildings and houses, no bones or bodies to show people had once lived there, not even a single plant to show there had ever been life. The only remnants were small bits that were hidden in the black dirt, small bits of a rare stone. Many travelers who came back from Shikai returned with handfuls of small bits and pieces of a beautiful red stone that in light turned green and sometimes purple. After a year of traders going from marketplace to marketplace in search of skilled and knowledgeable gemstone collector who could explain why only bits of this gem were left in Shinatae’s shadow. A year later three gemstone collectors who lived in all different corners of the world came up with the same answer, it was Akiuji. Part of the emperor's legendary palace, which was created from white marble and Akiuji.

There were two types of traders when it came the the remnants of Akiuji. Ones who traded valuable items for even a small piece of the gem, but majority of traders refused to even touch it, saying it was cursed with the blood of the innocent and stained with the greatest evil.The tale of Shinatae spread like wild fire striking fear into almost everyone. No one ever came forward to claim they were a survivor, which had to mean everyone had died including the emperor himself. After a year became clear that no one would know the truth behind of what truely happened to Shinatae, and how it became Shikai.

A city near Shikai said that they would build a fine palace out of a crystal called Trandafir, which was found only in under water valcanoes, and become the new imperial city of Amahara. They promised this to someone who could prove themself worthy enough to become the new emperor. One would have thought it was an opportunity of a lifetime and that many from far and wide would accept the free for all challenge to prove them self worthy to rule. But it was quite the opposite, months turned into years, with no one as emperor. It turns out no one even tried to come forth to assume the crown, not even the most greediest bandit. Many shared the same logical conclusion, the risk wasn’t worth it. However the need for stability remained. Amahara and all of it’s people were now going on two years without their beloved emperor. With the absence of their emperor and no one willing to take his place, Amahara found another way to maintain order and balance. Each village deemed a single leader normally a wise elder or a strong man, titled Yama, which meant mountain. The title was quite fitting just like a mountain, a Yama had to protect and provide for those who relied on them. This normally meant that most villages kept to themselves, but if a village required like trade or assistance they would typically form alliances with other villages.

Amahara, Village of Chomi, Year 5 AED (After Emperor’s Demise.)

A little boy around the age of seven looks at his father who is breathing heavily. The young boy furrowed his brows in worry for his father. His emerald eyes dart to what is causing his father’s labored breathing. A pole lays across the man’s shoulders, on each end is a large jug filled with water from a local river. The river was not far from their village, but far enough. The boy’s concern makes him wonder how he could help his father on this hot summer day. The man gave the his son a smirk and grunts “Haru don’t worry, your father can handle anything.” Being reassured by his father Haru nodded before he smiled and hopped alongside his father playing a game. It was a game the village kids often played, how many hops until you get from one place to another. The two start to walk up the hill that lies before their small village. After quickly growing bored with his game, the boy turns and kindly waits for his father who is only a few hops away. Haru smiles when his father passes him and begins to walk alongside him, just like he had before playing his boring game. A few minutes passed before Haru’s concern returned and this time had a question. He turned to the most knowledgeable person he knew, his father, “Father?”

“Hm?”

“Why are our crops not as good as the crops on the other side of the river?”

Haru looked at her father waiting for an answer. But his father said nothing and proceeded to walk to a tree not far from the path they were following. He watched as he father carefully sat the heavy containers of water on the ground in the tree’s shade “Haru, let’s sit for a bit.” Knowing his father was tired Haru sat in the tree’s shade and repeated his question. Again his father did not answer. Instead he took the dirty old rag from his hip and dipped it in the jug that he carried with his left shoulder. After the rag was soaked in the cool water from the river, he began to wipe the sweat from his tanned and dirt covered face. Before setting the cool rag on his head trying to escape from the sun’s hellish heat. The man around the age of twenty six gave a loud cough and spit the disgusting taste in his mouth onto the side of the dirt path. Now with his throat cleared, he be began to answer his curious child “It’s because those are the yokai’s crops. They took all the good land and we got what was left. This horrible barely fertile land that we have to carry water to so the sun doesn’t kill what little crops we have.”

“That’s not fair! They should share,” Haru exclaimed.

“Heh, they would cut out your tongue just for saying such a thing.” Haru quickly covered his mouth, he was still young and didn’t really know much about yokais. He was taught a little here and there by the adults in his village. All children in the village knew the basics like some yokais eat people, they also have really good hearing, really good eyesight and really good noses. He also knew to never go near the river without an adult. If children went to the river without an adult they would sometimes go missing. Some say the strong river carried them away and others say hungry yokais did. Haru wasn’t really sure which one was true all he knew was he wouldn’t go missing like his older brother and youngest sister.

Haru was thankful he was sick when they went to the river, other wise he too would have gone missing. His brother had lied to their mother, saying they were going to the field to play with some other children. Haru knew the truth, they were going to the river to catch a lot of big fish. At the time Haru wasn't worried, they promised to be back by dinner time. His brother had never broken a promise before. He was more worried about his father, after all he was traveling through a forest know for yokais attacking humans. But that was the only route to their second sister village who was known for having a great healer. But when the moon rose and his brother and sister still hadn't came home. He told his mother the truth. She began to cry knowing what had happened to her only other children.

Later that night Haru was in bed pretending to be asleep on his cot, his parents were on the other side of their one room hut and they were speaking about something important. Haru kept his eyes closed as he listened as best as he could, his mother was begging his father not to go somewhere. His father was replied with “We won’t be pushed around anymore by those savages. Our children go missing without any sign and we barely have anything to eat. I heard elder say that it won’t rain for many moons. At this rate all our crops will die and the animals will leave the area. At this rate we will starve or be so weak that they will attack us and kill us all.” Haru’s mother sighed knowing her husband was right. He continued his previous speech “We can't just sit back as those monsters kill more of our children. Kimi and Jiro didn't deserve to die.” At the mention of his brother and sister Haru opened one eye to look at his parents, they were hugging. Then he watched as his father as he stood up and went to the door of the hut moving aside the woven curtain that was their door. He paused in the doorway before he vanished into the night. Haru watched as his mother whispered his father’s name as if it were the last time “Toru.” He frowned as he saw her beginning to cry, she soon covered her mouth with one hand. It was clear she was trying to silence her crying, probably hoping not to wake her son. Her son who had seen and heard everything.

Toru who had just left his family in the dead of night walked alone on the dirt path that led to the heart of the village. Turning around he cast his eyes upon the dim light that was his home. His home was like everyone’s in the village, a well constructed wooden hut. His eyes shone with determination as he made a silent promise, ‘I will save this village and my family.’ With his promise made and his will stronger than ever before, he went from hut to hut calling upon the men of the households. He asked them to meet them in the middle of village. Soon men of all ages gathered in the middle of the village with their torches held tightly, the land is so dry it would go up in flames if a single flame kissed the ground. The men soon began to whisper and mumble to one another unsure exactly why they had been called out of their homes and told to gather here at this hour.

The answer they sought was revealed by Toru who stood before them with the will of a warrior “Many of you are suffering the same way I am. Your crops wither and die, making many of your families and livestock both hungry and weak. Dirt clouds strangles the young and old resulting and more and more burials. Those not killed by the hunger or illness, either vanish or are found in pieces by the river. Their deaths are no mystery, those savages on the other side of the river are responsible for all of their deaths. They stole the fertile land and gave us this cursed dirt patch knowing it wouldn’t provide any food. They wish that we would all die. Well I say no more! No more waiting to die! They have killed far too many of our women and children! I say we defend our families and take back the land that should have been ours! If you wish to live, if you wish for your families to live… Then grab a weapon and let us go across the river!”

After hearing Toru’s passionate speech and all the men having personally lost someone close to them due to illness, hunger or to the yokais themselves let out a roar of agreement. Amongst the yelling crowd one young man yelled “They took the lives of my wife and daughter! I’ll take the lives of theirs.” A roar of agreement filled the village center. Another man followed the other’s example and yelled “We’ll make them beg for mercy! Then kill them all!” Another roar from the crowd echoed louding. A man in the far back of the crowd yelled loudly “Spare no one!” Toru smiled seeing the confidence of his men and threw his fist in the air as he yelled, “Let their blood fill the river!” With that final promise the men seperated and rushed to their homes. They gathered their weapons and told their families they’d return by morning. Many brave and eager young boys offered their help to the cause, but all under twelve were told to stay and watch over their families in their father’s place. Some of ther elderly men offered their hel,, but they too were told to stay and protect their families. The boys who were allowed to join their fathers and older brothers were told to grab a weapon and follow their fellow warriors. Women with heavy hearts waved goodbye to their brave men and prayed for their safety.

Prepared the group marched proudly and confidently towards certain victory. Their journey took them down the dirt path through their dusty crop fields and into a small dark forrest. Almost to the edge of the tree line they heard a familiar sound, water. The sound of rushing water was music to their ears. It was the raging river that divided their lands with their yokai neighbor’s. The rushing water also caused many unpleasant memories to rekindle the burning fire in the mens’ hearts. The river had seen it all, it saw what others had not, it saw what really happened to those who disappeared. While the villagers had only seen what remained, if there were any to see. Sometimes there would be patches of hair, blood stained grass or scattered pieces of clothing and flesh. The river had seen those monsters tear and devour innocent women and children.

The younger men who had never encountered confrontation before were starting to feel their confidence drain as they marched closer and closer. Many of the young warriors were marching next to their fathers, big brothers and uncles. Several of the older warriors saw the fear beginning to make their younger brethren doubt themselves. The few men who had been in battle before knew that you had to go into battle unafraid. Several of the younger warriors found themselves being reassured with a pat on the shoulder or a grin. That small gesture made much of their fear melt away like ice under the warm sun. Toru and the men stopped when they came to the river’s edge. The men held their torches high hoping to be able to see to the other side, but were only able to see half way. Toru gave a gesture calling forth all of their skilled archers. The archers stood behind their leader in a straight horizontal line. Their bows were errect, arrows were knotched, with rope tied to each arrow.

The men shared a common thought “This is it. No turning back!”

With a thrust of Toru’s steel blade he gave the signal the archers had waited for. Each archer aimed his arrow for the closest tree on the other side of the river. The darkness on the other side had not been tamed by their torch light. The silence of the arrows in the air made many of the men nervous and the archers uncertain if they had truely seen their target. But the echo of many simple taps put all the men at rest when they saw the rope leading from the enemy’s side to theirs. The men whom Toru had instructed to tie the ropes around trees on their side, quickly went about fastening them so the line across the river was tight and well secure.

Lines of plenty were stretching far across the river, again Toru thrusted his sword, this time giving the order to cross the river. The line of archers secrured their bows, as they grabbed the rope with both hands. The current was strong, the men knew if they didn’t keep a firm hold they could be dragged down stream. All of the archers took a deep breath as they slowly and cautiously set one foot at a time into the cold water.

When the archers were halfway across the strong raging river, the next man was told to go. They couldn’t afford to waste any time. One by one the men made their way across the river the same as the archers had.

Soon all the men in line waiting to cross secured their weapons and silently waited for their turn. All hoped they could cross the cold river as quickly and quietly as possible. This was repeated until every man was across the river, last to go over was their leader Toru. Having their leader once again in front, made them felt at ease. Afterall none of the men have ever been on this side of the river. The only one who had was Toru.

But that had been many years ago, when he and his brother were small children. The tale was the two had been playing by the river, like they had everyday. One day the two were skipping rocks and hopping on different rocks. But Toru had slipped and fallen in, which his brother jumped in to save him the two were carried far down stream. Finally brothers had swam to shore, only it wasn’t their shore. They played by the river for at least three hours a day, everyday so they knew every rock and tree. But nothing seemed familiar, then the two brother stared at eachother a bit horrified. It seemed both understood why, they were on the yokais’ side of the river. The two boys knew they could not cross the river, if they tried they may drown this time. Unsure of what else to do the two brothers looked for help. Which lead them to go to a nearby village to seek help. Three months had passed before Toru was able to return to their village Chomi. Toru told of the horrors on the other side of the river and the proof was on his back. His brother had been killed with boiling oil for trespassing, while he was let off with a permanent reminder to never cross the river again. Thirty lashes with from a metal whip on his back, his back was little more than bone and strips of bloody flesh. Toru led his group of warriors who are just normal everyday farmers and merchants down the same dirt path him and his brother once walked.

Only this time would be different. This time he knew the path they traveled on and knew where it led. Toru blew out his torch and the rest of the men followed his example, the moon would now light their way. With no regrets the men marched fearlessly in complete darkness, each with weapons firmly in hand.

It wasn’t long before they were stopped on their path to the village by three men. The men looked very different from them. The men wore clothing of such high quality they looked liked a trio of emperors, while Toru’s men wore little more than stained rags. The clothing the unknown men wore had no impurities such as stains or tears, instead they had detailed patterns. Toru glared at the men even in the darkness he could see that these men were different. They were yokais’, yokai had different physical features that made them easy to differentiate from a mortal. Their hair and eyes were normally an impossible color from what most Amaharan mortals had. Amaharan mortals normally had hair that was either black or brown, and their eyes were typically brown. Most yokai also had some other odd features, sometimes even animal like features. Their ears were another easy give away, being they were normally pointed and not arched like a mortals.

The mortal men stared at the three male yokais blocking their path, they stood there with no weapons. Toru felt slightly insulted when the three yokais standing before his band of thirty farmers and merchants, smirked, their fangs glistened in the moonlight. Toru looks up at the moon that now shone brightly and that was all it took. He saw a flash of of blue and fell to his knees, his breathing quickly grew labored as his hand covered his gut. Upon touching his gut he winced and brought his hand to his face with the moonlight to aid his poor vision. In the moonlight his calloused palm shimmered with dark crimson.

‘Blood. My Blood?!’

He looked up at his attacker, Who was a man with hair that shone like the golden sun. He narrowed his winter blue eyes which were a cold as any blizzard. The yokai starred down in amusement, “One would have thought you would have remembered your last lesson, Toru. Do you not remember me? My name is Aoi, I poured the oil. ” The yokai then grinned in victory as he tilted his head from one side and cranking his bones, showing he was just warming up. He looked ahead at the other twenty nine stunned mortals and he held up his hand. Motioning with two fingers he summoned his two allies behind him. The three yokai soon began to walk towards the stock still standing mortals. Their leader was down having taken a direct attack to the gut, the loyal and frightened men were torn between retreating and attacking.

For many of the men this would be their first battle. One of the mortals in the back turned and began to run back to Chomi. Several of the younger men still in their teenage years having seen their leader so easily defeated turned and ran. Toru looked up at the yokai that seemed to be corning his men. He tried to yell, but only succeeded in coughing up blood and his remaining strength. Without an ounce of strength left he fell to the ground and laid there in a pool of his own liquid life. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he struggled not to choke. He laid there helpless and watched as the three yokais approach his fear filled men. The yokai on the right of Aoi had a natural blood red mane tied in a high ponytail. The one on Aoi’s left had silver hair that rested around his shoulders.

The man with hair as innocent as a bride’s veil smirked as he ran and leaped in front of the retreating youngsters, blocking their escape. He turned his bright orange eyes towards the shaking boys who had just became men. He walked slowly towards them as if taunting them. Some of the young men called for their fathers, older brothers and uncles to save them. But when the other men turned to aid the younger group they were blocked by the blonde haired yokai, Aoi. The crimson hair yokai with coal black eyes stood beside his friend with a frightening grin. Loud cries filled the silent night with a melody of pain, agony and death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the morning sun rose the women of the village grew worried, with their men still gone. Haru and his mother were beginning their morning chores. To distract Haru from his father’s absence she asked him to help with her chores. It was a good distraction, but she also missed his company these last few mornings. Their first chore called for them to go to the river to gather water for their morning tea and rice.

Haru smiled and hummed to himself a tune that he had heard some of the other village children sing. He hadn’t learned all the words though and not wanting to embarrass himself, he didn’t dare try and remember them. He looked around the village and wondered where his father and all the other men were. It was early morning and though, so most of the men would sleep in for another hour or two before going to work in the hot summer sun.

He looked at his mother, she was singing while carrying a large jar. She would normally sing when doing chores, but that was because she knew all the words to the song the village children sang. She was also one of the best singers he had ever heard, and he had heard his friend Miu sing for hours.

Haru turned his attention back to his mother and noticed her expression was not a happy one. This caused his happiness to also seep away, he hated not seeing her smile. He smiled as an idea popped into his head “I’ll race you!” Having declared his challenge, he sprinted as fast as his little legs could carry him. A smile rose on his face as he heard not far behind him, his mother laughing.

Haru stood frozen before his destination, his eyes wide in shock. All his playfulness and happiness had instantly vanished upon reaching the river. Haru’s mother was still claiming she would win as she pushed aside a branch that was blocking her vision.

When her cinnamon brown eyes found the river, she dropped the jar. The clay jar laid in pieces on the ground as her hands flew to cover her mouth in horror at the sight before her. She noticed something move in her peripheral vision, turning her head her eyes locked onto her young son. He stood staring at the river before him. Her eyes widened as she jumped towards him and in one swift motion she hugged him protectively to her chest “Don’t look.”

She shouldn’t have let him see the river. The once clear blue waters were now dyed a dark scarlet from last night’s battle. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw several objects float down the river. She began to shake as she realized what they were, they were bodies. By the clothing and hair color she could tell they were the men from her village.

Her eyes went as wide as they could when she saw Toru floating on his back with a hole in his gut. His face frozen in horror, part of this hair missing along with both his legs. Seeing her beloved she let out a pain filled scream as loud as she could. Haru tried to pull away, but was unable. His mother used all her strength not to let him see what remained of this father. Even though she felt robbed on everything, she still had something, their child. She grabbed her son keeping his face hidden as she ran back to the village as fast as she could.

A few villagers stood at the entrance curious who had screamed and why. Two elderly women and one young one saw Toru’s wife running towards them. The older duo could not see that far and asked their younger counterpart to describe the scene. They were surprised to hear she was carrying her son in her arms rather than letting him walk, especially at his age. But what really made them worry was the fact she did not smile, instead she looked panicked as tears flowed down her face. When she was close enough the two elderly women could see the three watched her and whispered to one another until she crossed the village entrance.

When she made it to the entrance she stood and did nothing, she didn’t look up, she didn’t let Haru go, she didn’t speak. She just stood there, breathing and shaking. The youngest woman approached her old childhood friend “Miku?” At the mention of her name, the panicked mother to stopped everything. She stopped her shaking and stopped her laboured. She standing still and mute age looked like a corpse.

Curious and worried the three women crowded around her and waited for her to speak. A voice they did not expect spoke, “Mother?” Miku curled her body protectively around her son, tightening her grip already firm grip. One of the elderly women, looked away from Miku and instead looked at Haru and softly spoke “Haru, what happened?” Before another word could be said, Miku took off running with her child still in her grasp. In the distance she could still hear the worried yells of the trio of women she left behind.

“Come back!”

“Miku!”

“What happened?!”

“Miku!”

Each yell just seemed to fuel her already burning legs as her mind raced ‘I have to protect him. I have to protect Haru! He is all that I have. They took everything! They took my first born! They took my youngest! They took my husband! They won’t take Haru! I’ll die before that happens!’

The three women watched her disappear down the path that lead to the outskirts of the village. She was most definitely heading to her house. The two elderly women turned to their younger counterpart who wore her long black hair in a loose bun secured with a wooden pin. The elderly woman on the right spoke “Ai, go find out what happened. I would but my legs don’t carry me that far anymore.” The young woman who wore a simple pastel green kimono with a dark green sash tied around her wait said nothing, but looked unsure. The elderly woman on the left nodded and gave her another reason to go “She’ll tell you, your childhood friends.”

Only once at her home, did Miku set her child down. She wasted no time in telling him to go inside and to stay there. She expected him to be sad, crying, scared, or even rebellious. But all she received was a frightening blank stare. Helplessly she watched him nod and then turn to go inside as silently as a ghost. Her heart tightened at the sight of her broken son. He was lifeless.

‘We are not dead yet,’ she quickly reminded herself.

She turned around and stood surprised when she saw her friend “Ai?” The woman looked at her with a worried expression “Miku!” In a flash Miku found herself in her friend’s tight grip and smiled as she returned the embraced ‘We are still alive.’ Knowing she had to do something, she let all of her current emotions of sadness, fear, and hatred grow from a flickering spark into a burning flame. She pushed against her friend, “Ai, I want you to tell everyone to bring all the children to my house.” Ai was now even more confused, Miku was always cheery and shy. She was really not herself today, she had never known her friend to act so strange. Something had to be wrong, very wrong. Unsure what else to do Ai put on a fake smile and headed back to the village.

Miku looked up at the sky and bowed her head ‘I have lived a poor life, struggling in the dirt day after day not knowing when my last would come. I did not complain. I did not beg, I was only grateful to you. But they have taken so much from us. They have taken so many innocent people who did not deserve such a cruel death. Two of my children not even twelve were taken. Now my husband, no now all of our husbands have been stolen from us. None of them were evil hearted. But those yokai kill without remorse, they are very evil. And yet they live, they propser. Why God? Have you forsaken us? Please I beg you with all that I am, help us.’

#orginial #Story #Tale #Romance #Novel #Demon #yokai #Love #Beginner #writer #Author #Written #Works #Book #trilogy

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