XXXV: Immortal Death

And now it's going gray
All the lines are blurring and decayed
I can't recall exactly who's to blame
Anymore
--Smile Empty Soul, Eraser--

Kit soon joined Shukka at Kagami's side, taking a slightly safer route along the outer perimeter of the room in order to reach them.
"Are you crazy?" he hissed immediately upon reaching Shukka. "You could have been killed!" It was only when Shukka didn't reply--didn't even bother to try to explain herself--that Kit realized that something was wrong. Tears stained her cheeks and dropped fitfully from her chin; she didn't raise her head in the least at his arrival or reprimands, and her eyes were closed, her lips moving though there were no words leaving her mouth. She was praying.
Almost fearfully Kit lowered his gaze to the form of Kagami, who was slouched against the wall, blood beginning to pool around him. Hesitantly Kit reached out, feeling for a pulse, hoping to prove wrong what Shukka so obviously thought to be true. Unfortunately, there was nothing--Kagami was dead.
Now Kit had to admit that he had never really liked the man, but that didn't mean that he would have wished this upon him. Kit didn't know exactly what Kagami had gone through quite recently, but it was easy enough to deduce from his the fact that he had been earlier locked out of the temple he had once run, that the high priest--former high priest--had been quite thoroughly denounced by his own god. Even so, Kagami had risked his life to save Anmin, something Kit was left wondering at. And as though that weren't enough, Kagami's death certainly seemed to bring things into perspective--things like his and Shukka's own mortality and their very precarious predicament.
"We should get out of here," Kit whispered, seeing that Shukka had finished her prayer for the deceased; nearby the sounds of heated battle had renewed, stronger than before.
"We can't go," Shukka stated simply, her voice holding a hint of determination. "We have to see this through."
"If Henshi wins and we're still here, we're as good as dead," Kit argued; somehow he knew that it was a pointless debate--Shukka would not be persuaded to leave, and he would not leave without her.
"I have to see...." Shukka trailed off, pausing before continuing. "Kagami died so that Henshi would not succeed. He believed in Anmin, and I believe that his sacrifice will not go unrewarded--Anmin will win." Any sympathy she might have felt for the demon had dissipated with Kagami's death. "He will win, even if I have to see to it myself."
But just as suddenly as Shukka's newfound determination had blossomed, the sounds of battle in the room came to a halt with a single, loud crash, the sound of the heavy sarcophagus lid slamming into place. A sudden silence reigned, but the reprieve was only temporary as soon muffled screams--those of mortal pain--emanated from within the coffin, the sounds of the two artifacts joined together for a deadly purpose.
Shukka knelt frozen for a long moment, almost afraid to look up and see who remained outside the sarcophagus, but that voice in the back of her head returned, telling her that Kagami could not have died in vain-- everything had to be alright. Didn't it? Slowly she raised her gaze to the room around her.
Sitting on the raised section of flooring, leaning against the sarcophagus with face in hands, was Anmin. He had won, but at what cost?

XXXVI: To Kill A God

Don't waste your touch, you won't feel anything
Or were you sent to save me?
I've thought too much, you won't find anything...
Worthy of redeeming
--AFI, The Leaving Song Pt. 2--

Three silent forms rested in the empty temple. The return from the deep chamber beneath the temple had been slow-going--Kagami's body simply could not be left behind--and he sounds of tortured screams followed them for a long while before they finally faded as distance was put between them and the room. But even now the screams seemed to echo in the recesses of their minds, haunting each of them. Perhaps it was punishment, suitably fitting the crime.
Henshi's body lay near the gate that led to the tunnels, his form covered with the tapestry that had once covered the secret entrance--the tapestry that depicted the battle that had been waged one hundred years ago between god and demon. The former high priest would be buried as soon as possible--buried by Anmin's word in the temple's private cemetery that was reserved specifically for it's clerics. In death Kagami had found the very thing that he couldn't seem to find in life--forgiveness.
Exhausted from the day's events, Shukka leaned against Kit, the rasse's arms wrapped reassuringly around her. She knew now that the next time he asked her to leave town with him--and she knew that he would ask again--she wouldn't think twice before agreeing. It seemed that there was nothing like death to bring the living closer together. But right then, there was nothing that she wanted to do more than to go home and sleep-- perhaps for a whole day straight; however, there was one thing that she had to do first. Reluctantly she pulled away from Kit, telling him to wait for her by the door. He agreed somewhat reluctantly, especially when he saw that she was headed towards Anmin, obviously with the intentions of speaking to him privately before leaving. Kit had to remind himself again that the guy was a god and not about to make a move on Shukka.
The god sat in one of the temple's many pews, his head lowered and his eyes closed, obviously deep in thought. He looked up from his thoughts only when he felt a hand come to rest lightly on his shoulder.
"You...okay?" Shukka's voice barely held a hint of uncertainty as she leaned over the back of the pew in which Anmin sat; her concern by far outweighed any indecision she might feel.
"I will be," Anmin replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "Once that room is properly sealed, those items forever beyond the reach of those who would use them to do ill....And once this temple is passed over to hands more worthy of worship than myself."
Shukka blinked in surprise, her mind racing to comprehend the meaning behind the god's words. "You don't mean....I mean, after all this, you're not...." She couldn't seem to find words to express what she was trying to say, but Anmin didn't need to hear words to know what it was she was getting at.
"I am not a god worthy of devotion. I have done too much; I need too much redemption myself to be able to give it to others. I feel I am no less a demon than I am a god, and that is a dangerous thing." He paused, his gaze leaving Shukka's concerned face and going instead to his hands which lay folded in his lap. There was a long moment of silence, and Shukka waited for him to speak again. When Anmin did speak, they were not words that Shukka had expected to hear, even after all he had told her. "Perhaps," he said, "in the long run, Henshi succeeded after all...."

XXXVII: In Memorandum -- An Epilogue

I have arrived so unashamed
But my reflection no longer seems the same.
--AFI, Exsanguination--

Shukka and Kit walked arm-in-arm along the dreary road in silence, an umbrella held between them to keep the light drizzle at bay. Both of them were dressed in black, the color by far most suited to the barely past funeral they had left not long before.
Kagami's burial had been a dignified, yet relatively minor event-- news of the high priest's demise had, for good reason, not been wide-spread and few braved the rain to attend the ceremony--but Shukka hadn't even considered not attending; it was simply something that she knew she would do when the chance came about. Kit had accompanied her willingly, never giving the idea of not attending the ceremony a second thought--after all that had happened, it seemed the very least he could do.
In the cemetery of the now nearly empty, nameless temple a new gravestone stood amongst the older, the stone slab by far not the largest of the assortment, but nonetheless one of the most noticeable. White marble stood out in the otherwise dreary cemetery, the stone inscribed with simple words and dates that few would stop to read. It didn't matter; perhaps it was better that Kagami fade from the memories of the majority; it was almost certain that after all that had happened, he would have preferred it that way. He was not ashamed of what he had done, but for him, much had changed in such a very short time that it would be nearly impossible for anyone looking in from the outside to follow....In the end, even his reflection no longer seemed the same.

I can't stand my laughter as they cry
My soul brings tears to angelic eyes.
--AFI, God Called In Sick Today--

A funeral and proper burial was something that Henshi would forever be denied, but for the demon those simple things were far from necessary....and far from needed...yet. The room in which the sarcophagus lay had been strongly sealed against invasion some time ago by Anmin, and the god had quickly left with the sounds of the demon's shouts of pain ringing in his ears. Even now the demon was not dead, and his pain was far from over; he had not been lying when he had told Shukka that having one's soul ripped from one's body hurt, nor had he been lying when he had said that it would only be the beginning....His pain had barely begun.
Despite the fact that Henshi's pain had far from faded--had perhaps even increased in intensity--his screams had faded. It is said that, with time, one might become accustomed to pain, but that is something that only the one experiencing such prolonged pain can tell for sure. It is also said that prolonged pain can do other, worse things to a person; in this, an immortal in physical form--and physical pain--is no different.
From within the sarcophagus came not screams of pain, but quiet, unsettled laughter.
Henshi was still far from dead.

The End...

May the gods stand between you and death in all of the dark places where
you must walk.
--Ancient Egyptian Blessing--

AN: Yes, yes, it's left off with the obvious possibility of a sequel. Well, we shall see....PLEASE REVIEW!