Shadow Saints

Poison

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Ayame dove to the side, frantically trying to escape the collapse of the once-majestic Coigüe. The sharp report of the ancient tree snapping like a dried twig was drowned out by the winds that had toppled it. The very same winds snatched hungrily at her slight frame, nearly lifting her completely from the ground, turning what began as a simple dive into a clumsy tumbling-routine that nearly ended with her embedded in the trunk of one of the hardier trees that yet withstood the merciless gale.

Clinging to the rough bark like a lifeline, the young woman battled to regain her bearings; it was no easy task considering the maelstrom that engulfed her. The winds buffeted her violently from all sides; already robbing her of her kimono styled jacket. Ruefully, she noted the tight fitting undershirt which remained was poor armor in the face of such cutting winds. A sudden flash of lightning stole her sight for a moment, followed immediately by a clap of thunder, which did the same to her hearing. She shook her head violently, then faced into the wind to get her wildly whipping hair out of her face.

And the storm was only getting worse . . .

Sight restored, she scanned her surroundings again. Densely packed Coigüe surrounded her on all sides, bending dangerously under the force of the gale. To her overloaded senses, it appeared that she was the only living being in the Nahuel Huapi National Park . . . excepting the trees, of course. In the chaos borne of the fledgling hurricane, she had not only lost track of her partner, but also of their target.

“Damn it!”

She indulged herself with a curse to the heavens. It was an outlet that was seldom available to her, and she took a perverse enjoyment from it. Of course, desperately clinging to the trunk of a tree wasn't going to solve any of her problems, nor was cursing, so she obviously needed another tact. She pushed off the tree, before spinning to slam her back against the rough bark. Immediately, she braced her legs and pushed against the earth, pinning herself in place. She was forced to squint, as the searing January air tried its best to blast sand and splinters into her jade eyes.

She pulled her arms up tightly to her chest, eyeing the leather bracers that wrapped around both of her forearms. Normally, the voluminous sleeves of her jacket would have covered them, but she thanked the gods that they weren't now. She read the kanji that covered the three sheaths running down the length of each bracer, her panicked mind unable to remember what each of them contained. Each sheath was two inches wide, six inches long and sealed by a folded piece of leather held in place by a simple snap button.

Wait! That was the one she needed! She quickly turned her left wrist up and unsnapped the cover, revealing the small sheaves of paper contained within. The young priestess leaned forward, trying to block the wind as she pulled three of the small strips of paper, her O-fuda, from the sheath . . .

Only to have them torn from her fingers by the hungry winds!

Another curse escaped her painted lips, this one not nearly as polite as the first. How could she possibly do this if she couldn't hold on to any of her weapons? What in the Heavens was she even doing here? Whose brilliant idea had it been for her to be team leader in the first place? Things had spiraled out of her control almost the instant they had made contact with their target and nothing she did seemed to be changing that fact! If only sh-

She turned quickly as a sound caught her attention, just in time to see the ringed end of her staff being thrust before her face. The large brass ring hung in the air before her, the three smaller circlets of metal jangling lyrically as the wind tried desperately to free them from the main ring. Her eyes trailed down the length of the staff that extended from the extravagant ornament at its head, to the seemingly delicate hand that held it.

“Ana!” she shouted, just to be heard over the wind.

Ayame stared at her companion, hardly believing her eyes. Ana stood tall and proud before her, seeking no cover, needing no support, bending not an inch, as if she were a mighty Oak standing among the willows. The younger woman's stylized training gi flapped madly in the wind, but the pale orange material refused to be shredded by the clawing winds. Her shoulder length blonde hair whipped wildly, yet it only made her look all the more fierce. Ana's pale blue eyes bore down on Ayame, as if she wasn't even aware of the stinging sands that filled the air. At that very moment, it was as if her companion was standing on a different world than her. The only consideration Ana gave the storm was an imperceptible lean into the wind as she offered her the ringed monk's staff.

If Ayame weren't a priestess, this could be the stuff that resentment was borne from . . .

“You should take more care not to misplace your weapon in battle,” stated her companion flatly. If it had been anyone else, Ayame would almost believe the comment to be condescending. “The target is approximately fifty meters to the south east, we should re-engage at once.”

The Japanese priestess shook her head from side to side, ignoring her subordinate’s statements. “We're out of our depth here! We need to withdraw and call in for back up! The two of us are no match for that demon!” she shouted back desperately. Why was it that her companion didn't need to shout to be heard? It was all so infuriating.

“That would not be advisable. Given the target's current speed and the rate at which the storm front is expanding, the hurricane will reach San Carlos de Bariloche in less than an hour. Considering that the winds are continuing to grow in strength, the loss of life would be . . . unacceptable,” Ana explained in that same, emotionless tone of hers.

“But . . .,” Ayame began without even thinking.

As soon as she said the word, she wished she could take it back. The icy blonde was right, for all it was worth. If it was a decision between her survival and her compassion, then it was really no decision at all. Besides, it was because of her decisions that things had gotten this out of hand; if only she hadn't . . . there were far too many 'if only's' to worry about now . . .

Ayame let out a long sigh, before nodding to herself. She grabbed the offered weapon and held it tightly to her chest. “You’re right, of course, we don't have the luxury of time. We have to stop him, here and now. We'll circle ahead to intercept him. Lead the way,” she ordered, slowly gaining confidence. Why did she doubt herself so? Wasn't this precisely what she'd trained all of her life for? If she wasn't able to deal with this demon, who exactly would stand in her place? She looked at her companion's back as the younger woman began stalking inexorably into the wind.

Sighing again, Ayame pushed off the tree once more, digging the butt of her staff deeply into the soil, using it as a lever to pull herself forward. The winds pushed against her with unrelenting fury and even with the support of her favored weapon it was slow going. Her world was a swirling maelstrom, only the steady rhythm of her own footsteps, accompanied by the dull thud of her staff, offered any semblance of order. That, and the ever present back of her comrade, moving ever forward.

Finally, after a seeming eternity of being trapped at the mercy of the angry sky, punctuated by increasingly frequent lances of lightning, the winds began to die down. She looked up, puzzled for a moment at the weakening of the storm. As if sensing her confusion, Ana turned to regard her. “We are now entering the eye of the storm,” she explained.

Ayame bit back her retort, returning a simple nod instead. It was obvious what was happening, she didn't need everything explained to her. It was interesting, though, as the storm increased in size, so too did its eye. That meant as the demon's power grew, so too did its vulnerability . . . to any person actually able to pass through the storm. No longer hampered by the winds, she quickly caught up to her companion.

Rather than speak, she made several rapid hand gestures, signaling her companion to move forward and engage the target. It always pained her to think in such clinical, sanitized terminology, using words that seemed to drain all of the humanity from her noble quest. She often wondered if any of her teammates thought along similar lines . . . Ana nodded curtly and moved forward silently, unsheathing a rather unremarkable long sword from her back. Somehow . . . looking at her current companion, she found it highly unlikely.

She dismissed the errant thoughts. Now was neither the time nor the place.

Her pace slowed considerably as she let her companion move off to slow the demon. She grimaced in disgust as she took in her own appearance; she was absolutely filthy! She dug a hand into the heavy pouch belted to her waist and was quickly rewarded with a pair of small square packets: pre-dampened napkins. She tore into them quickly and began to frantically wipe away at the dust and grime that covered her face and arms.

“Vanity, be they enemy,” she muttered to herself.

She very nearly giggled at the sudden thought of how she must appear. Stopping before a great battle so that she could wash her face? She quickly forced the idle thought away, then struggled to clear her mind of any other errant thoughts. Purity was one of the defining principles of the tradition of Shinto. Purity of body, mind and soul were of the utmost importance when beseeching aid from the Kami, the spirits revered by the Shinto religion. Not just because the Kami desired respect, but also because those dark Kami dedicated to trouble and disaster were drawn to impurities and could make life difficult for a sloppy priestess. Moist towelettes were hardly a substitute for a true purification ceremony, but in this case, they certainly couldn’t hurt.

Satisfied, she came to a complete stop and closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed as she inhaled and exhaled in long, slow draws. All of her anxieties came to the forefront immediately and she did her best to quash them. Her lack of experience, the power of their foe, the untold lives that were hanging in the balance . . . her obvious inferiority to her seemingly perfect partner . . .

Purposefully, she took another long breath, drawing life-giving air into her lungs. The obvious pettiness of her final thought annoyed her greatly. There were untold lives hanging in the balance, and she was upset that her companion’s hair looked fabulous even in a hurricane? It was such an unworthy thought that she latched on to it and used it to bludgeon the rest aside. She concentrated on the negative thought for another moment, before she let out the breath she had been holding, in a slow cleansing exhale. She visualized all of the darkness and pettiness being expunged along with the waste gases produced by the simple act of breathing.

Gradually, she raised her eyelids once more, now seeing the world through new eyes. She could see them now, fuzzy still from her lack of focus, but present nonetheless. Kami surrounded her now, so many. Not that she was surprised, the National Park was an ancient forest filled with so many wondrous and awe inspiring trees; it was obvious that the hand of the Kami had touched this place. Awe was not what she felt now, though. The spirits that surrounded her were enraged by the assault on their beloved forest.

As if sensing that she could now see them, the Kami turned to regard her. They did not speak in words, but their desire was painfully obvious. Insistently, the spirits urged her in the direction that Ana had left moments ago. Ayame smiled grimly at their urgency. It appeared she would have no shortage of assistance in the coming battle.

It was foolish to anger the gods. Foolish, even for a demon.

Not wanting to anger the gods herself, she quickly tucked the crumpled remains of the napkins back into the pouch. She still felt some dirt and grime sticking stubbornly to her skin, but forced her mind away from that . . . for now. Feeling the furious power of the Kami washing over her, she made her way quickly. The sounds of combat soon made themselves known to her. Her confidence now bolstered by the Kami, she rushed excitedly to join the battle.

After a moment, she burst into a small clearing, perhaps thirty feet across. In the center of the clearing, Ana was battling their enemy. The younger girl’s sword flashed out with blinding speed and deadly grace. It was as if the girl was dancing, so fluid were her movements. Ayame still found herself awed by Ana’s skill; however, it seemed to have no effect whatsoever on her opponent.

Ayame felt her jaw drop in shock at the sight of the demon that her teammate fought so fiercely. She scarcely recognized the thing, though it had only escaped her sight for twenty minutes at most. Where before had stood a disfigured man, now a true monster faced them. From the waist down, the demon was relatively unchanged, its skin covered in shining, iridescent scales. From the waist up was a completely different case; it appeared that as the demon’s power flourished, so did the transformation that wracked it.

The beast’s chest had nearly doubled in diameter, rippling with inhuman muscle. The reason for the immense musculature was obvious, as his arms had given way completely to massive wings which reached nearly from one edge of the clearing to the other. Wicked claws, twisted remains of the demons fingers, adorned the joints at the midway of each limb and dark feathers slick with some vile liquid decorated the broad wings, catching the light and refusing to let it free. The feathers also covered most of the monster’s bulky chest, before giving way to reveal the rest of its scaly hide.

It was the head that had changed the most disturbingly. Now sitting upon an elongated, scaled neck, the head of a massive viper gazed at them with a hateful intensity. The demon opened its gaping maw to unleash a sound that was a maddening mix of hiss and howl; in doing so, it revealed a pair of frighteningly long fangs that dripped with venom the color of midnight.

The priestess watched, transfixed, as the feathered serpent’s head shot out with blinding speed, seeking to bury its fangs deep into Ana’s soft flesh. Had it been anyone else, Ayame would have gasped in terror at their grim fate. As it was, she was unsurprised to see the master swordswoman flow out of the way of the attack and slap the monster across the face with the flat of her blade. The demon spun with the attack and Ana ducked under the flailing wing that threatened to slam into her back, spinning around in the opposite direction.

A second later, the blonde warrior was standing behind the demon, a perfect killing stroke lined up. But Ana hesitated, her gleaming sword held steadily in the air above her. Though Ayame wasn’t certain how, her comrade turned to face her, an unreadable expression on her face. Then the opportunity slipped past; the demon let out another hissing roar and spun around, fangs leading the way. Without a second’s hesitation, Ana leapt back to the edge of the clearing, out of harms way.

Ayame quickly flipped open the cover on another of the leather sheaths and tore out another handful of o-fuda. With the ease of daily practice, she hardly winced as she ran her right thumb over the small razor imbedded in the hard leather of her bracer. Studying each sheaf of paper quickly, she used the bleeding digit to skillfully add the final stroke to the kanji of each one. In so doing, she completed the characters naming Amaterasu-ōmikami and imbued the charm with her spiritual power. To her eyes, the three paper charms burned to life, now surrounded by halos of white luminescence that did not consume the delicate paper.

O-fuda in hand, she quickly picked up her staff once more and raced forward “Ana! Keep the beast’s attention!” She then ran straight for the demon’s exposed back.

“Wait!”

Her companion’s cry caught her attention as she ran . . . almost disastrously! Ayame looked past the monster for a moment, to see why Ana had called out, and very nearly missed the movement of the demon. The Kami around her cried out a warning before she had time to notice the back of the massive ebony wing swinging towards her, it was the only thing that allowed her to react in time. In a flash of movement, she knelt down then launched herself into the air! Her leap took her over a dozen feet straight up.

She cleared the bludgeoning limb easily, but paid for it dearly. The powerful wing of the demon swung through the air that she had occupied a fraction of a second earlier, drawing a swirling vortex of cutting winds in its wake! Ayame was caught in the potent gale and sent flying wildly. Again, her o-fuda were torn from her grasp!

Her sense of equilibrium abandoned her for a scant few seconds, as the winds carried her along in the trail of the demon’s flailing wing. A moment later, the ground was barreling towards her. Years of training kicked in instantly and the young priestess hit the ground rolling. Her shoulder protested angrily at the sudden and harsh contact, but most of the force of the impact was sublimated easily. She quickly rolled to her feet, internalizing the despair of the grass stains now marring her clothing, and leapt into the air once more.

She flipped and twisted acrobatically through the air, before landing lightly at the side of her companion. Adopting a serious expression as she dropped into her combat stance, staff held horizontally between her and the demon, she turned to face her companion. “What was it you were saying?”

Ana matched her serious expression with an impassive one. “ . . . It can still understand you, Ayame-san. Shouting your intentions across the field of battle was . . . counter-productive.”

Ayame fought down the surge of blood that threatened to brighten her cheeks. Another foolish mistake, but she refused to be embarrassed by it. “Indeed, let’s not make that mistake again,” she stated quickly. Ana actually quirked an eyebrow at her words, though out of amusement or exasperation she couldn’t tell. Rather than dwell on her unreadable compatriot, she returned her attention to the feathered demon that turned to face them.

The beast rose up to its full height, lifting its blackened wings high into the night sky. Were the sun actually out, the demon’s wings would have darkened the entire clearing. It was an obvious tactic to intimidate them, but it was hard to ignore. Their enemy was already imposing, towering over eight feet tall, but with its ichor stained wings spanning over thirty feet, it was a grimly impressive sight to behold. Its reptilian head loomed forward menacingly, the hate filled orbs of black that were its eyes bored into them mercilessly. It then reared back, unleashing another deafening bellow, black spittle defiling the air.

She turned partially to the girl beside her, though she never took her eyes off the demon before them. “Now that the winds have moved away, we should have a better chance of subduing the demon.”

Ana didn’t even turn in the slightest when she responded; her face remained perfectly focused on the feathered beast. “Execution would be the less hazardous course.” The swordswoman’s fingers tightened fiercely around the hilt of her sword, already pale knuckles turning the color of marble. “This creature is unworthy of mercy.”

Ayame felt her entire sense of mental bearing waver at ice in Ana’s voice.

“Every living thing deserves mercy,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Ahead of them, the monster’s scaled head bobbed slowly from side to side, just waiting for an opening. She did her best to ignore its gaze as she continued, “And, in case you’ve forgotten, the true demon is the entity which possesses that body. Slicing it to pieces would kill the innocent host as well.”

Her companion did make a good point, though . . . Simply killing the demon would be much less dangerous for them. Was it right to endanger themselves, and by extension, all of the people they hoped to protect, just to sate her own principles?

The young blonde’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she glared at the patient form of their prey. “Your innocent host participated in the ritual with full knowledge of what it entailed. The fact that they were unable to control the being they summoned makes him no less culpable.” Ana raised her blade above her head, the point aimed unerringly at the demon’s heart. “The moment that he embraced the darkness, his life became forfeit.”

It was stated with such cold finality that Ayame turned to stare at her, aghast! “You can’t mean that! All life is pre-“

Yet another mistake . . .

It happened faster than even her trained senses could follow. A blur of darkness filled her vision, a pair of gleaming fangs leading the way. It was interrupted by another blur, this one gold and orange. A sudden pressure crushed into her chest, pushing her bodily from her feet and flying to the ground. For just a moment, time slowed to a crawl as she floated through the air, feeling the agonizing sensation of the wind being knocked from her lungs.

In front of her eyes, two figures loomed. One was the demon, its snapping jaws flashing through the space that she had just occupied. The other was Ana, almost horizontal to the ground from the flying tackle that had knocked her aside. For a moment, Ayame imagined the worst: those dagger like fangs burying deeply into her friend’s neck in an act of ultimate irony.

Ana was not one to sacrifice herself so foolishly, though. The sapphire-eyed girl had dove just low enough to avoid the striking head of the serpent. Instead, it was the massive chest of the charging beast that slammed into her body with the force of a locomotive. A terrible crunching sound filled the air as Ana’s body was sent ragdolling through the air. The slight female flew nearly a dozen feet, before bouncing harshly across the forest floor. It was several more feet before Ana’s form ground to a stop . . . totally motionless.

Ayame could only stare at the crumpled form of her friend, still unable to comprehend what had just occurred. A myriad of painful scrapes and bruises made themselves known from her own collapse, especially the livid bruise forming in the center of her chest, but it all felt so distant, as if it were someone else’s pain to feel.

Then the demon took a step towards the unresponsive girl-

Before she even realized what she was doing, and with a strength that was not wholly her own, Ayame found herself on her feet. An instant later, the end of her staff slammed into the side of the beast’s snake-like head, brass rings jangling madly. Her attack landed with enough force to snap the demon’s head to the side and shatter a handful of ebony scales. All around her, the Kami cheered her on, even as they lent her their strength. She could feel their power flowing through her, feel it empower both her and her weapon.

A wicked smile formed on her painted lips at the demon’s bellow of outrage. Even as the demon reeled to the side, she shifted her grip on her staff and lashed out with an upward swing, catching the beast in the jaw. This time, in a great ringing of brass, the demon’s head snapped up sharply. Rivulets of black ichor arched into the air as the monster stumbled back a step; its wings flared out instinctively, stabilizing its balance.

Her hands slid to the middle of her staff and she twirled the ancient weapon rapidly before spinning around. Utilizing the full power of her spin, she fiercely thrust the butt of her weapon into the dead center of the demon’s chest-

A gasp escaped her lips as her hands suddenly slid two feet down the length of her staff. It felt as if she had just rammed the end of her staff into a concrete wall. It was a miracle that she hadn’t fallen over completely.

Instinct burned to life and she dove to the side; rolling over her staff, just as the ebony claws of the demon tore through the air that had, just a moment before, contained her head. She quickly rolled to her feet and spun around to face her opponent, just as it descended upon her in all its fury.

In the blink of an eye, her entire world became a maelstrom of claws and fangs; her ears rang with the demon’s bellowing roars and hissing. Even with the eager energy of the forest spirits pushing her muscles beyond the limits of mere humans, she was hard pressed to evade the demon’s furious attacks. She dared not even attempt to block any of its attacks, lest it simply smash her weapon or toss her aside by brute strength alone.

She ducked beneath a horizontal slash of its right claw, only to back flip away from the left claw which rose up from the ground to disembowel her. As soon as her boot touched the earth, she launched herself in to the air, just as the demon’s head buried itself into the ground in its reckless attempt to devour her. The nimble priestess landed on the demon’s broad back before leaping higher yet. She twisted in midair, turning to face the demon even as she rose towards the heavens.

Below her, the demon tore its head from the crater it had just created and twisted around swiftly. For a moment, even as gravity was rediscovering her, it looked around in confusion; the moment was short lived, though, as it quickly looked up to spy her lazy descent. Straining the muscles of its immense chest, the demon flexed its blackened wings, before swinging them towards her with all its might. The beating of its wings produced a crack like thunder, heralding a surge of wind and a hail of needle-like feathers that roared towards her.

Her staff spun out before her, doing its best to emulate an aircraft propeller in a desperate bid to deflect the incoming feathers. Though normally they wouldn’t have concerned her, the speed they traveled and the dripping ooze that trailed in their wake made her change her mind. The feathers reached her a fraction of a second before the winds and a sound much too reminiscent of metal striking wood in rapid succession sounded in her ears.

Then what felt like a solid wall of wind slammed into her airborne frame, knocking her nearly senseless. She saw, more than felt, her staff slip from her fingers and disappear into the windstorm. What she saw next consisted of a wildly shifting combination of grassy earth, darkened sky and spinning trees.

A sudden impact stopped her uncontrolled fall . . . but it wasn’t the solid surface of the unforgiving forest floor. All at once, the world came back into focus, up was up and down was down again. It took her less than a second to determine what happened, judging by the warm pressure against her back. Not quite believing her senses, Ayame looked over her shoulder in shock.

“Ana! You’re alright?” she asked incredulously.

The eternally serious blonde stared straight ahead as she spoke, her eyes trained on the demon. “I am not seriously injured. However, I reiterate my desire to end the battle with extreme prejudice.”

Ayame almost smiled at her comrade’s words, if only out of relief. It was hard to get annoyed when the younger girl’s arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist and doing most of the work of keeping her upright. Rather than argue the point, she nodded sharply. “Very well.” She quickly freed herself from her companion’s arms and stood up. “However, I have a request.”

Ana kept her steady gaze on the demon, as she replied. It continued to watch them warily. Or, more to the point, to watch Ana warily; it had obviously thought she would be out of the fight permanently as well. “Proceed . . .”

The priestess took a long breath. “I have one last idea that could defeat this demon. However, to do it, I would require you to not only battle the demon by yourself; you would also need to keep it away from me and still in this general vicinity. It is an incredibly dangerous plan, so I won’t order you to do it. If you feel it is too reckless, we can end this your way . . . there are too many lives hanging in the balance if we fail . . .”

Surprisingly, for just the blink of an eye, a look of indecision wracked the normally icy demeanor of her comrade. It passed so quickly that she almost thought it a trick of the light. Ana actually turned to face her, though her eyes still remained glued to the center of the clearing. With supreme confidence, the blonde warrior nodded, once.

“The central precept of the Cheng Huang is to protect all human life. We would be remiss in our duties if we did not attempt every reasonable course of action to do so.” In a flash of movement, Ana’s long sword appeared in her hand. And, then, without so much as a parting word, the blonde moved to engage the demon one final time.

Ayame gazed after her companion, marveling at the young woman’s courage. She knew that Ana would protect her from the demon; she was so certain, that it was more a statement of fact than an act of faith. She intended to make the most of the time her comrade bought her. Taking another breath, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the battle before her. What she planned would take every ounce of concentration and control that she possessed . . . possibly even more.

It was one of the reasons that she bemoaned the use of Taoist sorcery.

The sounds of battle erupted somewhere in the blackness that surrounded her, but she did her best to block it out. Even without her sight, she could feel the energies of the combatants in the distance. They were polar opposites, blackest pitch and purest light . . . or, at least that was how her mind chose to perceive the abstract concepts. But, again she tried to ignore even that sensory input. Slowing her breathing and raising her hands before her chest, she pressed her palms tightly together.

Taoist sorcery was very different in form and function from the Shinto magic that she preferred to use. The ritual she wished to perform was also incredibly complicated, literally requiring her to concentrate on three separate actions at once. The young priestess took another calming breath . . . then began.

She took a single step forward, signifying the start of the ritual. The footwork was integral, commonly referred to as ‘Pacing the Dipper’. It required her to step along a unique set of nine paces, which represented the seven stars of the Big Dipper and its companion stars: Fu and Bi. This part of the ritual symbolized her soaring over the Nine Heavens to petition the divine spirits for their aid. The configuration she traced with her feet now was called the ‘Dipper for Destroying Hell’.

A half a moment after taking the first step, she pulled her hands apart and used her right thumb to pinch the joint between the fourth finger and the palm of her left hand. This was the second component of the ritual, the Finger Gestures that represented the functioning of the universe and, thus, her control of it. The gesture that she had just made was ‘Qian’, one of the Finger Gestures of the Eight Trigrams and Nine Palaces, and the first of the sequence of ‘Dispelling Ghosts’.

She began to visualize her flight over the nine heavens even as she took her next step and performed the next finger gesture. She then proceeded with the final aspect of the ritual. Taking one last breath, she began the arcane incantation integral to the ritual.

“I have the vital breath of Heaven and Earth. As I recite the incantations, the ghosts will be killed, the wood will be broken, and the divine gods will reveal themselves,” she spoke the words with great intensity, unleashing the very vital breath spoken of in the incantation as she exhaled.

Another step, then another joined with another finger gesture. Ayame could feel the world expand around her, on into infinity. The sounds of the battle seemed to fade away, seeming so small and insignificant when compared to the fundamental truth that was revealing itself to her at that moment. As the battle faded, so did her fears; she could feel it now, the power gathering around her.

The steps came quicker now, the gestures blended from one to the next seamlessly. She repeated the incantation once more, feeling the power of her spirit ebbing and flowing with each breath she took in and let out. It almost felt as if she was flying over the heavens at that moment. The words spilled past her lips almost without her knowledge and everything began to spiral inward, coming to some grand, cosmic climax.

Without warning, her eyes shot open and the world resolved itself around her in vivid color and form. Instantly, her eyes found their target, the dark frame of the demon, still dancing with the luminescent form of her comrade. She felt all the power coursing through her come suddenly to a head, seeking release with a primal hunger. She paced the final pace, gestured the final gesture and intoned the final incantation.

“I have the vital breath of Heaven and Earth. As I recite the incantations, the ghosts will be killed, the wood will be broken, and the divine gods will reveal themselves!”

Even as the final words were spoken she extended her hands, her open palms directly facing the unholy beast. In that simple gesture, she gave direction to the gathered power and the divine energies surged forth. Though invisible to the naked her, her mind’s eye revealed a wave of white light that was blinding in its radiance. The wave of power surged towards the two combatants with all of the irrepressible power of the gods behind it.

Both Ana and the Demon turned to face her in the infinitesimal increment of time before the wave would crash over them. Almost impossibly, the nimble swordswoman leapt out of the path of the powerful exorcism. The demon was not so quick; it was enveloped by the light and seemed to dissolve into nothing as the wave washed over it.

Ayame held her position for what felt like an eternity, her arms held before her and palms facing out. She trembled powerfully in the moment after unleashing the exorcism, her breath coming in unsteady gasps. Everything was dark again, without the aid of the gods or Kami she was forced to readjust to the darkness of the stormy night. In this moment of quiet solitude, bone-numbing exhaustion began to settle over her. It was all she could do to keep her feet . . . but she had to be sure, first.

Though it was more difficult than she could imagine, she took a single step forward. As the darkness became more manageable, she could finally se the results of her exorcism. There, lying on the ground, was the unconscious body of a young South American man . . . completely naked! Blushing furiously, she quickly covered her eyes and looked away. She thanked the Kami that he was at least lying face down. Being very studious about not peeking overly much, she noticed that Ana was not standing to far away from the young man and moved to stand by her side.

If the young blonde was at all embarrassed by their latest predicament, she gave absolutely no sign. Ana just stared at the young man with a clinical detachment that most doctors would likely kill for . . . well, not literally. Still not looking herself, she wondered just how in the world her younger teammate could not be embarrassed.

Another wave of exhaustion rolled over her, nearly toppling her over. Without even thinking about it, she leaned on Ana’s shoulder for support. It was getting a little difficult to breathe, her breath coming in labored gasps.

Ana turned away from the form of the undressed male to regard her. “Your ritual was successful. I am . . . thankful for that, however, it appears that the effort has weakened you considerably,” noted the young woman.

Ayame nodded weakly. “N-nothing that some rest wo-won’t fix . . . We still . . . still have to find the rest of his accom-complises . . .” A rough cough ravaged her throat, wracking her chest with pain. She curled over on herself, surprised at the sudden bloom of agony.

Immediately after her coughing fit subsided, Ana grabbed her shoulders and firmly pushed her out to arms length. The girl’s piercing blue eyes studied her intently. Ayame did her best to wave off the girl’s sudden show of concern.

“I-it’s likely nothing . . . The ritual wa-was just more taxing than I imagined . . .,” she wheezed slowly.

If Ana heard her, she gave no sign. The young woman’s eyes continued to scan her, before they widened alarmingly, staring intently at something on her right side . . . The priestess weakly tilted her head to see what her companion was gazing at with such deadly seriousness. Her gaze traveled down, until she saw precisely what it was that her friend was looking at . . .

A single black feather protruding oddly from her arm . . .

Idly, she wondered how she hadn’t noticed it earlier. Actually, she wasn’t getting much feeling from the hanging limb at all now. With an odd sense of growing detachment, she looked up into her friend’s icy blue eyes.

“I-I don’t feel so well . . .”

And with those words, her world faded to black.

--

Ana quickly grabbed Ayame and pulled the collapsing woman to her chest. A fraction of a second later, she pulled the poisoned feather from her commander’s arm and carefully tucked it into the pouch hanging from her belt. Ana immediately returned her attention to Ayame’s condition. The wound on her arm was insignificant, except a filigree of black lines were already spreading around the tiny puncture.

“Poison,” she noted to herself.

She quickly went over the situation in her mind. There was an array of anti-toxin stored on their transport. However, the poison afflicting her commander was of an unknown composition and potency. Standard procedure stated that in such a situation: the poisoned operative should be taken back to said transport for immediate treatment.

Her analytical stare slid from her unconscious companion to the unconscious figure of the young man. However, regulations stated that incidents relating to anything as serious as demonic possession took top priority. In this case, her top priority was to take the male into custody so that the organization’s experts could verify expulsion of the demonic entity.

Ayame’s weight was approximately fifty-four kilograms and she estimated the target’s weight to be at least eighty. Their transport was over forty minutes away by foot, likely sixty minutes carrying Ayame, even longer if she carried the male. It would be impossible for her to carry both simultaneously and making multiple trips would waste time that Ayame may not possess.

Ana looked between the girl in her arms and the man on the ground once more, an unfamiliar feeling making itself known.

“W-what is the proper course?” she inquired quietly.

Neither of her companions offered up a viable solution, not that she expected them to. Which course of action was correct? Did a medical emergency take precedence, or was the demonic entity still the top priority? Was it even safe to leave either person unattended in the forest for any length of time? Her knowledge of the fauna indigenous to Argentina was woefully inadequate. Were there any predators that could pose a threat to an unconscious human?

Ana noted that her own breathing was beginning to become erratic, coming in hurried gasps. Her pulse was also increasing beyond normal levels for a non-combat situation . . . She was certain that she had not been poisoned as well, and her symptoms were not analogous to Ayame’s reactions to the poison, so what could be wrong?

She looked from Ayame to the former demon again, her gaze flipping from one to the other in rapid succession. Why were the regulations not more explicit? Though she remembered them perfectly, nothing indicated which of the two directives should take priority.

Immediate Treatment . . .

Top Priority . . .

Both terms denoted a sense of importance, which her duty demanded be met. Ana looked to the wound on Ayame’s arm once more. The fine lines of contaminated arteries and veins had already visibly increased in size, indicating that the poison was spreading steadily. Without any knowledge of the poison’s potency, it was possible that her companion could recover completely; it was also possible that she could die within minutes . . .

Immediate Treatment.

Top Priority.

Both terms denoted a sense of importance, however, only one indicated a timeframe to comply to.

Oddly, as soon as she came to that realization, her physiological reactions returned to their normal states. She did not have time to consider the strange occurrence, though. She quickly moved over to crouch beside the unconscious male. With her free hand, she drew her sword and deftly pressed the point of it against the hollow of her left arm.

A quick scan of her arm revealed what she was looking for. With a precise flick of her wrist, she made a shallow incision in her skin. She ignored the trickle of blood that flowed from the cut and, with some fine manipulation of the blade, she was able to extract the small, circular tracking device that the Cheng Huang scientists had implanted her with. She gazed at the tiny device clinging to the tip of her sword, still unsure why they had done it without her knowledge. She would have gladly complied if they had simply asked. She did not have the time to waste on such idle speculation, though.

With slightly more force then necessary, she drove the tip of her sword into the young man’s buttock, implanting the tracking chip into the muscle. The swordswoman then draped Ayame over her shoulder and began to jog back to the transport, a troubled expression descending on her face as she studied her companion’s motionless form.

--

The troubled expression on Ana’s face deepened. She wearily pressed her hand to her forehead as she stared at the row of empty vials that rested on the bench before her. In a moment of weakness, she almost desired to swipe her arm across the desk and smash the spent vials to pieces . . . but her strict sense of control stopped her. None of the anti-venoms or anti-toxins had been effective. The poison still appeared to be spreading completely unhindered.

Her eyes narrowed as unfamiliar emotions boiled up from somewhere inside her. She did not understand what they meant, her eyes felt hot, but her hands were clammy and her stomach was clenching almost painfully . . .

If only there was someone to tell her what to do! She had tried to contact their superiors as soon as they had reached the transport, but the dwindling intensity of the storm was still interfering with the signals. The regulations did not tell her what to do in the event that her commander was incapacitated, she was unable to reach anyone via radio, and a toxin of unknown composition and potency had poisoned one of their team!Frustrated beyond belief, she lowered her elbows onto the bench and dropped her face into her open palms.

“A . . . ana?” the voice that called out was nearly inaudible.

Ana’s eyes widened in shock and she quickly sat up. Remembering herself, she schooled her features before turning to regard the speaker. Lying on a small cot that folded down from the wall of the aircraft, Ayame had turned her head to speak to her. Ana noted that the Japanese woman’s skin was nearly as pale as her own, except for the ebony spider web that was spreading across her arm. The blonde operative carefully stood and made her way to kneel at stricken woman’s side.

“I am here, Ayame-san.”

She noticed that Ayame seemed to have trouble focusing on her, the dark pupil’s at the center of her green eyes dilating randomly. Her commander fought to raise a hand, but she lacked the strength to hold it aloft for more than a moment.

“W-what’s going on?”

“You have been poisoned. However, the anti-toxins have proven ineffective and I have been unable to raise anyone on radio due to the storm . . .,” Ana trailed off uncertainly.

Ayame nodded weakly, “Of . . . of course. Heaven forbid that something w-went right . . . here,” muttered the poisoned woman ruefully. “Are we . . . are we heading back to base then?”

Ana’s eyes widened in shock again. Of course! It was so obvious! She carefully rebuilt her calm expression. “That is the next logical course of action. However, I still need to engage the second auxiliary fuel tank. You continue to rest here, I shall get us underway immediately.”

Before Ayame even had a chance to respond, if she even had the strength for it, Ana was already up and heading back to the transport’s cargo hold. She shook her head, furious at herself.

It was so obvious!

--

With a final grunt of exertion, Ana locked the fuel lines from the full reserve tank into place. She took a moment to look over the cargo hold of the transport she stood in. She had been told that this particular transport was an Osprey V-22, purchased from the United States military and heavily modified for worldwide use by Cheng Huang operatives. It was an extremely useful vehicle due to its tiltrotor design, which allowed for vertical take off. It was not uncommon for operatives to be sent to locations with no available airstrip, so that capability was vital.

Of course, even as heavily modified for speed and range as it was, the Osprey V-22 was not designed for such a long distance mission. With its augmented abilities, the transport still only possessed a range of little over two thousand miles. It was for this reason that she was in the cargo hold. Before her, where thirty-two fully armed soldiers could have stood, loomed a pair of massive fuel tanks. Nearly twenty thousand pounds of fuel . . . ten thousand now. It would be enough to return to the main Headquarters in China, with little to spare. Unfortunately, the trip would take at least twenty hours . . . she hoped that her companion had that much time.

Ana wiped the grease from her hands with a filthy rag before dropping it to the floor and making her way to the cockpit. She passed through the small passenger cabin set up for operatives for longer flights such as this one. Ayame was still laying quietly in the fold down cot, she had faded out of consciousness again; just as well.

The sapphire-eyed warrior sighed, before moving on. She stepped through the small door to the cockpit and sat in the pilot’s seat. Without further delay, she rapidly sped through the take-off sequence. Within minutes, the engines on the wings roared to life. A quick visual inspection showed the massive tri-bladed props locked in their vertical positions. As the engines built up speed, she felt the entire craft resonate as it lifted into the air. Several long minutes later she was looking down on the wide clearing where they had landed in the National Park. With a jarring shudder, the props locked into their forward positions and they were underway.

She finished inputting their destination into the navigational equipment, and then activated the autopilot. The subtle sensation of acceleration pushed her gently back into her seat. The dark clouds of the storm parted before the aircraft’s windshield as she allowed herself to relax into the comfortable leather of the captain’s chair.

It was then that she allowed herself a sigh . . .

--

Ana suddenly snapped to attention, taking notice of the fact that she had been staring intently over the endless depths of the Atlantic Ocean for over two hours straight. She was not sure what had snapped her out of her trance, but was thankful regardless. Stretching in her seat, her stiffened joints cracked and popped in protest. With one final surge of effort, she lifted herself to her feet and went to check on her companion.

Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw!

The sight of the awakened Ayame would have been heartening, except the older woman was scrubbing a damp napkin across her injured arm with a manic intensity. Black veins stood out angrily from the raw, reddened skin and a small pile of torn and shredded tissues on the floor was a vivid testament to how long it had been going on.

“D-dirty . . . so dirty . . . Must get clean,” the poisoned female muttered to herself in a hushed tone.

Ana took a step forward to intervene.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a calming voice.

The scrubbing stopped at the sound of her voice and Ayame’s gaze rose up from the inflamed skin of her arm. The young priestess looked around in confusion for a moment, before finally turning to face her. “Ana! . . . Ana . . . yes, you can help me!” she declared hopefully, “I’m not pure now-you see? I’ve gotten so filthy . . .” An unsettling, desperate gleam suddenly appeared in her companion’s jade eyes. “You have to help me get clean!”

The last command was given so forcefully, that Ana actually took a step forward and reached out to grab the napkins herself. With a feat of will, she stopped her outstretched hand and shook her head in disbelief. Had she almost taken over in mutilating her commander because of an order given while delirious? She shook her head again, then quickly knelt down beside the cot and gently wrapped her hands around Ayame’s and removed the long since dried piece of tissue from them.

“You should rest now, Ayame-san. Your attempts to clean your arm are pointless. You are only injuring yourself,” she explained as succinctly as she could.

Her neutral expression dipped into a small frown as the manic look in her companion’s eyes only intensified. Driven by fever-induced delirium, Ayame’s hands suddenly shot up and latched onto her shoulders with surprising strength.

“Pointless? Pointless? The Kami won’t speak to me when I’m so filthy . . .” Ayame suddenly began looking around the small cabin frantically, as if she were expecting to see someone else in there with them. “The spirits will save me! They will, but they won’t!” The raven-haired woman’s grip on her shoulders became nearly painful as Ayame’s nails dug into the pale orange material that covered them. “They won’t save me if I’m dirty, I have to get clean, I have to get clea-“

Ana gingerly opened her tightly clenched fist and gently traced her fingers down the unconscious woman’s face. Ayame’s condition was deteriorating quickly enough without her thrashing around violently and straining herself even further. A sharp strike to the temple seemed to be the most judicious manner to sedate the woman considering the situation. She took a moment to arrange Ayame’s unconscious form into a more comfortable position, before she rose up and moved to sit at the desk on the other side of the cabin.

Again, the empty vials loomed before her, almost taunting her with their lingering failures. It did make sense, though. The poison that had infected Ayame was not a natural substance, but the toxic weapon of a demonic entity. It had been naïve to believe that any conventional anti-venom would work . . .

That thought brought her to a stark realization. What were the odds of the Cheng-Huang facilities possessing anything that would be effective either? Perhaps if a doctor had been present at the time of the poisoning, they might have been able to do something. However, the poison will have had over twenty hours to run its course by the time they even reached headquarters. And that was in the best-case scenario that her commander actually survived that long.

Something that Ayame said echoed through her mind: ‘The spirits will save me . . .’

Though Ana’s knowledge of Shinto was limited, she knew that it was well within Ayame’s ability to neutralize poison through the invocation of the Kami she worshipped. However, Ayame was also the senior most priestess at the Cheng-Huang headquarters located in Central China. It did give her an idea, though.

If the poison was supernatural in origin, perhaps a cure of supernatural origin existed as well. All she needed to do was look through the organization’s database for any recorded or registered supernatural beings that might possess such a unique ability. It was a daunting task, but considering the time frame involved and their current heading, she could cut down the areas she searched substantially. They were currently over the Atlantic Ocean, traveling east. This meant that she could narrow down the regions she researched to Europe, North Africa and Western Asia.

Strangely satisfied with her own quick thinking, she cleared the desktop with a sweep of her arm and opened the compartment built into the wall above the desk. She quickly pulled out the wide, flat laptop and placed it before her. It only took a moment to boot up the device and open the supernatural database.

Ana stared at the screen for several long moments, dismay worming its way onto her features. There were over three hundred gigabytes of information stored on the small, flat device. Fortunately, it was sorted by country and region . . . unfortunately, below that level, it was not organized in anyway at all, not even alphabetically. Even with her severely narrowed search parameters and haphazard use of the search engine, it would still take her hours to read through the information.

Letting out another uncharacteristic sigh, she opened the folder for North Africa and started working.

--

Ana blinked several times to moisten her tiring eyes. She still hadn’t made any significant headway. She had been able to skim through the archives quicker than they were progressing geographically, at the very least. When she had last checked their progress ten minutes ago, they had just crossed the border of Algeria, still heading northeast. As for her research, she had already turned up nothing in all of North Africa and had moved on to Europe.

Resting her eyes for a moment, she looked over her shoulder to the cot behind her. Ayame was unconscious again. She had been slipping in and out of sleep randomly, but each time she appeared to be even more delirious than the last. She was now covered in a fine sheen of sweat as the poison ravaged her body with a dangerous fever. The black contamination of her bloodstream was visible almost to her shoulder now.

The grim sight of her teammate, lying so still as to already be dead, urged her to turn back to the computer and continue her research. She had just finished the files on Western Europe and decided to move to Central Europe next. She deftly opened the archive and began skimming through the names and brief notes written by the operatives that had either dealt directly with the supernatural beings named, or had transcribed the entries from the actual paper archives that the organization had relied on for centuries.

She was so intent in her desire to search through the archives as rapidly as possible, that after another twenty minutes of scanning through a veritable wall of text, she nearly missed it. The word had caught her eye a moment before vanishing off the top of the screen. Scrolling back quickly, she read through the brief passage more carefully. It had been a reference to illness that had caught her attention, but she did not expect too much. It was just as likely that the being she was looking up caused illness, as it was that it could cure illness.

It was an older record . . . much older, nearly seven centuries old, actually. It referred to a nature spirit known as Bilwis. Ana double clicked on the name and opened the file proper on the spirit. What she found was most applicable. The ancient records stated that one of the monks of the Cheng Huang had encountered Bilwis on a journey far from home, in a vast forest. Though the ancient record was not fully complete, the person that had transcribed the entry believed that the forest referred to was the Bohemian Forest, located on the borders of the Czech Republic, Austria and Germany.

The entry elaborated further on the spirit itself. Bilwis had appeared to the monk in the form of a human female of great beauty and proved to be a benign entity. Bilwis also demonstrated a range of abilities to the monk, most of which fell in line with common traits of nature spirits. The reason that the monk found the spirit to be exceptional, was for her apparent ability to cure any illness through application of its tears . . .

Such a limitation on its ability struck Ana as odd, but regardless, this appeared to be what she was looking for. The benign nature of the spirit was also useful information; it was likely the reason that the Cheng Huang hadn’t disturbed Bilwis since the initial encounter. Though the central ideology of the organization was to protect humanity, the Cheng Huang also held great respect for the right of all beings to exist, human or not. Unless a supernatural being actually became a threat to humans, they were sworn not to interfere in the lives of nonhumans in anyway, unless asked.

Still . . . it was a plausible lead, but did she dare follow it? With great haste, she located the navigation charts and spread them out over the laptop. From her current location, somewhere in the northern region of Algeria, she could easily reach the Bohemian Forest in a little over two hours. If she kept right on to the headquarters in China, the flight would take over nine. She then compared the distance between the Bohemian Forest and their headquarters.

Hmm, interesting, the forest was over one thousand miles from her current location, their base just under five thousand. However, the distance between the forest and their base was roughly four thousand. If she calculated things correctly, traveling to the forest would only add an hour or more to the flight . . .

Ana looked to the deathly pale face of her companion once more. The entry was ancient, and quite likely a dead end. However, nature spirits were nigh immortal, so the possibility still existed. She weighed her options for another moment . . . before making the first true decision she had ever been forced to make . . . a rash one.

A moment later, she was altering their course.

--

The hours passed quickly, now that she was instilled with a sense of purpose. Following Ayame’s orders to locate a spirit capable of healing her, very loosely interpreted, gave her a goal to focus on once more. The ‘what to do’ and ‘why’ were, thankfully, no longer her problems. Now, only the ‘how’ remained, and that always came much more easily to her.

Ana stared in wonder at the awe-inspiring forest that approached on the horizon. She doubted that she would ever cease to be amazed by the sheer beauty that the world contained, if only one took the time to look. The vibrant colors of the forest set against the rising of the sun nearly brought a tear to her eye, but she quashed the sentiment quickly. She had more pressing matters to deal with.

The forest, while beautiful, was massive beyond belief. The chances of a person finding anything within the wooded area were astronomical; let alone a nature spirit which might prize its solitude.

Ana took a long breath, then quickly checked to make certain that Ayame was still unconscious. A quick glance through the doorway confirmed that her companion was, indeed, still asleep. At this point, Ana was glad for that. Satisfied that she was, for all intent, alone, she returned to the pilot seat and sat once more. She gazed out through the windshield, taking in the forest below.

She took a final, quick check over her shoulder to make sure that Ayame hadn’t stumbled through the door in the seconds since she sat down, then took another massive breath . . .

Then she freed her mind.

It began slowly, as her consciousness expanded beyond the narrow confines of her mortal shell. She became aware of the cockpit in its entirety, sensed every working and every nuance of the carefully constructed machine. As her perception continued to expand, she sensed Ayame in the cabin behind her, could feel how weak she was, could taste the foul corruption that infected her. It became obvious to her that Ayame was running out of time.

Then her awareness expanded beyond the confines of the transport. Within moments, the forest came into focus in her mind. Every tree, every animal . . . everything. Ana stopped herself there; the human mind was simply not meant to see things as she viewed them now. If she let her awareness diffuse any further, the sheer amount of information would likely blast her sanity to ash. She could already feel it begin, the gnawing darkness tearing at the edges of her consciousness.

There! She could feel it dancing at the edges of her perception. It was subtle, difficult to discern amongst the vast swathes of nature in which it dwelled, but it was definitely present. It took her several agonizing seconds to narrow down the general area where the energy of the presence was concentrated. That done, she pulled her consciousness back from its expanded state . . .

Or, she tried to.

Ana’s hands clamped down on the instrument panel as she battled to pull herself back from the brink. Her mind rebelled against her body, it could see everything again; the thought of being forced to experience the world through a single set of eyes, seeing only what the reflected light of the sun allowed offended it. The strain was unbelievable; it felt as if her skull were preparing to burst open. There was too much information, too much stimuli, the human mind was not meant to know such things . . .

A spasm of pain lanced through her whole body, throwing her back into the pilot’s seat forcefully. A second later, her eyes opened, blinking rapidly as she readjusted to her own eyes. Gingerly, she raised a hand to her face, when she pulled it back, she saw a glistening trail of crimson running down her fingers from her bloody nose.

A shuddering sigh literally deflated her tense body. Too far, she had gone too far, nearly lost herself forever. But, she was back now, and she knew where she was going. Already the memories of the event were beginning to fade, so she had to act fast. She quickly wrote down the general coordinates that corresponded to the location she had sensed. Then she wiped her sleeve across her face to remove the errant blood.

Ana scanned the forest below, looking for any clearing large enough that would allow her to land the transport. As her eyes searched the forest, an odd sense of loss filled her. Even though her understanding of what had just occurred was fading just as quickly as the memory of it, the forest no longer filled her with the awe and reverence it had just moments ago. To her pale, sapphire eyes, the forest was just that . . . a forest; all of the mystique and allure had been stolen from her, stripped away by the harsh reality of an all-encompassing knowledge.

A suitable clearing soon made itself known, and even better, it was relatively close to the source of the presence. It was excellent news and meant that her chances of saving her companion were vastly improved . . .

So why could she not stop these . . . these tears that rolled down her cheeks?

--

The forest flew past her in a blur of green and brown as she sprinted towards her destination. She carried nothing with her asides from her sword and a tiny glass vial, absolutely nothing that could slow her even in the slightest. Even as the tore through the woods as fast as her legs would carry her, Ana pushed her senses to their limits to pick up any traces of the being she sought.

She had landed over fifteen minutes ago, and had been running before the loading ramp had even touched the forest floor. Running was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. After spending nearly a day in Argentina, suddenly leaping out of the transport into the foothills of the Austrian mountainside in the dead of winter had been a colossal shock to her system. Going from thirty degrees Celsius one day, to negative seven the next was not something she had experienced before. And she had been in such a rush, that she had not thought to bring any additional clothing.

She ran until the burning of her muscles overpowered the chilling air that washed over her. Slowly, Ana began to wonder if she had drifted off from her intended course. Though the markings she had placed on the map covered a relatively small area, it was still a large area to cover in reality

Her frantic run slowed to a brisk walk as a sense of déjà vu came over her. She scanned her surroundings intently for whatever had triggered the feelings. Despite her initial reaction, absolutely nothing drew her attention.

Strange . . . She was standing at the heart of a vast and ancient forest, yet there was not a single sound to be heard. No birds called out, no animals scurried across the forest floor. The sharp chill of the January winds was muted. It was obvious that something was out of place in the vicinity, and in her experience, it meant that her quarry was close at hand.

Walking slowly now, she continued to search for any sign of the forest’s resident spirit. It did not take long. She saw what she was looking for in the distance off to the west. An especially dense copse of trees which surrounded a particularly large Oak tree. An oppressive weight seemed to hang in the air over the entire area, even the sunlight felt subdued somehow.

With single-minded determination, she marched directly into the tightly packed grove. The moment she passed through the outer ring of trees, the atmosphere seemed to darken, both physically and intangibly. It was almost like being under a dome, the Oak at the center diffusing the already weakened light, and the copse of trees surrounding it growing so tightly that she almost had to grope her way through complete darkness. Silence hung in the air with almost a tangible weight as she wandered toward the center.

Perhaps, if it were not so deeply against her nature, the unusual setting would have made her . . . nervous. Instead, she only hastened her stride. After what felt like an eternity, the darkness finally began to give way, revealing a small, meadow-like clearing surrounding the Oak’s base. The tree was larger than she had first thought, the trunk was easily six meters in diameter and its canopy stretched out beyond the surrounding trees for some distance. The light of the winter’s day wormed its way through the thick ceiling of gnarled branches above..

“Show yourself, Bilwis,” she called in flawless German.

Silence.

“I am aware of your presence.”

It began quietly, Ana would have likely mistaken the sound for the rustling of the dried leaves above her, if the silence that surrounded her had not been so absolute. Laughter, . . . no, a quiet chuckling filled the air beneath the tree.

“Clever girl.” The voice spoke in the Germanic tongue as well, though a much older dialect. “It has been many years since I’ve entertained visitors. Longer yet, since anyone has called me by name.” The voice echoed around the empty space beneath the canopy of branches, making it impossible for Ana to determine the source.

“Cease your concealment, Bilwis. I would speak with you,” she replied sharply. She possessed no patience for any further delays.

“Concealment? Speak not of such foolish things, girl. I am but right before your eyes,” the voice rang with amusement.

Ana started slightly, then suddenly she became aware. Bilwis was right before her eyes, she had been the entire time. Sitting right before the trunk of the large Oak, wrapped in a heavy cloak which blended in perfectly with the bark behind her. The spirit’s entire body was concealed by the cloak, even her face, but it still surprised Ana that she had not seen her before. Unless, Bilwis had not desired to be seen until that moment . . .

“Very well. I require your abilities. You will assist me,” Ana decided to state her intentions clearly. She had been taught that it was always best to be forthright and honest at all times. With such a clear statement, there would be no chance for misinterpretation.

The cloaked figure remained silent for a long moment.

“. . . I see . . .”

The near-shapeless form lingered in thought before continuing. “Please, do tell me what this assistance is, that I must yield unto you?”

Ana nodded to herself, satisfied with her progress so far. “My comrade has been poisoned. I require a sample of your tears.”

Bilwis appeared to consider her request for several long moments. “My tears, you say? You are a knowledgeable little girl, aren’t you? It has been centuries since any have sought my power. My tears, they are a precious gift, you see?”

The blonde warrior stared uncertainly at the cloaked spirit, not entirely certain where the conversation was leading now. “My research states that you have helped humans in the past, is that not correct?” she asked calmly. Granted, her research had been . . . dated, but she found it unlikely that it would be so flawed.

Bilwis leaned forward, “Of course it’s true. I’d be only too happy to help your friend.” Ana could almost feel the smile on the spirit’s face, despite being unable to see it at all. “Unfortunately, I’m not nearly so young as I used to be . . . please, my dear, come closer.”

In retrospect, as she eagerly moved in as the spirit desired, Ana would come to find what occurred next to be a powerful motivation to learn when a person was using sarcasm. When she leaned in to receive Bilwis’ tears, the stilted tone of her companion’s voice did not register to her in the slightest. As such . . .

Her only warning was the tip of the blade tearing noisily through the heavy material of the cloak. In the blink of an eye, the flashing steel of the curved blade shredded through the cloak and filled her vision. It was all she could do to lean to the side, and even with reflexes honed from countless battles, Ana still felt the sharp agony of a razor’s edge splitting the skin of her cheek.

She reeled back from the attack in pain and confusion, slapping her hand to her cheek. Before her, the ruined cloak exploded, releasing a dark figure which disappeared into the branches above. A moment after Bilwis vanished from her sight, laughter filled the air; this laughter was different than before, now cold and mocking.

The surprise lasted but only for a second. Her mind immediately began to analyze the new situation. She wiped her bloody hand off on her pants and quickly unsheathed the sword from her back. She began scanning the trees all around her, looking for any sign of movement from her attacker.

“Why are you doing this? You were classified as benign,” she demanded coldly.

Another bark of mocking laughter descended on her. “Benign . . . what is this foolish word. Leave this place, foolish girl, leave it now and never return!”

Ana spun around, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her sword. She did not have time for this! What was this creature’s game? “I will not leave until you assist me,” she stated stubbornly.

“Assist you? Are you mad, as well as a fool? I offer you this last chance to leave with your life. Let it be known: I will never again help a human!” shouted the disembodied voice.

Ana continued to scan her surroundings cautiously, but her prey had yet to reveal itself again. “My commander is in critical condition. You will assist me.” She wished that she understood what was happening. Everything had appeared to be going so well. Why was this not progressing as she had expected?

This time, a rustle of movement drew her attention to the canopy above her. Bilwis suddenly swung down from an overhanging branch, hanging easily by her left arm. It was Ana’s first true glimpse of the nature spirit, and it was not at all what she expected. Bilwis had been described as a female of incomparable beauty. The being that swayed gently above her, while female, could no longer be considered beautiful by any definition of the word.

Now, Bilwis looked to be an ancient thing, though still long of limb, she was a dried and withered creature, like bone wrapped in leather; indeed, Bilwis now looked very much like the trees she protected. The spirit’s face was contorted into a rictus of abject hatred and in her free hand swayed the implement of her wrath, a cruelly curved sickle, still wet with Ana’s own blood. Bilwis gazed down upon her, a world of loathing and disgust pouring from her burning eyes.

“How dare you!” hissed the ancient creature, “How dare you come into my home and make such arrogant demands! I would kill you where you stand, were it not for the knowledge that your friend’s death will bring you no end of suffering.” Without warning, Bilwis vanished back into the twisted vale of branches.

The leather covering the hilt of her sword creaked loudly in protest to her tightening knuckles. She slowly raised the polished blade before her, staring intently at the razor’s edge it possessed. What did she do?

“I . . . I do not understand. Why do you hate humanity so? You used to help humans . . .”

The hateful voice answered, again echoing from every corner of the dark grove. “Feh! When I was young and foolish, yes, I helped the humans. And what did I receive in return for my beautiful gifts? Anguish and suffering beyond your wildest dreams, that’s what! Had I known then, what horrors that those disgusting creatures would visit upon my beloved forest, I would have slaughtered every single one that dared set foot within my wood!”

Ana stepped quickly to the side, her sword flashing out before her. In a flash of sparks, it clashed with the spinning blade of the thrown sickle; defying gravity the wicked blade flew back into the canopy above. The sudden attack did not faze her at all, however, the spirit’s words did.

“But, that is incorrect. Much of this forest has been declared National Parks. The governments of the surrounding countries do not allow intervention,” she stated calmly. Perhaps if she explained things rationally-

“Intervention?” The furious shriek claimed otherwise. Bilwis dropped form the canopy again, landing at the base of the massive Oak. She swung her sickle angrily through the air before her. “Humans have done nothing but intervene! They conserve one area, only to clear-cut another. They exterminate those cursed beetles in one place, only to let them thrive in another! For centuries they’ve bastardized my forest as if it were their God-given right.”

Bilwis swung her sickle over her head, gesturing to the tree above her. “Even this tree that I’ve made my home was not meant to be here! They bring in their foreign trees and their foreign creatures.” Her rant stopped abruptly, as she suddenly clutched her head with her free hand, “And always the beetles, the beetles burrowing under the bark, the beetles crawling through our skins!”

Without warning, her enemy began scratching at her root-like mass that was her hair, looking around with a haunted expression on her face. For a moment, Bilwis’ angry shouting dissolved into a disturbed muttering whose meaning Ana could not decipher. For some reason, looking into the spirit’s eyes at that moment made Ana feel . . . uneasy.

Suddenly, Bilwis snapped back to herself and glared at Ana, snarling once more. “Leave!” And just as quickly as her anger flared, it guttered out and died, “. . . Just leave, please . . . I have no strength left to fight you, I-I only wished to be left alone . . .” All at once, the raging spirit collapse in upon herself, as if anger had been the only thing fueling her strength.

Ana . . . did not know what to think. She could not understand the spirit’s mercurial moods. One moment, Bilwis was filled with rage, the next, overcome by some unidentifiable anguish, and now only apathy seemed to remain. Perhaps it was another of the spirit’s games? She wished that she could understand what was happening and, moreover, why. However, one thing was certain, her best and possibly only chance of saving Ayame’s life stood directly before her.

“If you do not wish to do battle . . . then simply give me what I desire and I shall leave.” It was a simple enough arrangement. That way, both of them received what they needed.

Bilwis’ aged face snapped up, fire suddenly filling her eyes once more. “You are mad! I beg you to leave me be, and yet you still torment me! You would desire my tears so greatly? Then bring me the corpse of your precious friend. Then I will drown you in an ocean of tears, tears of joy!” Her sickle twisted hungrily in her grip. “Now leave, before I find the strength to make you!”

The blonde was at a loss, but her eyes narrowed dangerously at the threat. The core precepts of the Cheng Huang were painfully simple: to protect humanity from supernatural threats, but also to respect the basic right of all beings to exist, human or not. At the moment, though, the two conflicted directly in her mind. Her teammate had been poisoned by a demon, so it was her duty to save Ayame. However, Bilwis was not an active threat to humans, and as such, it was her duty to respect her existence.

“Y-you are no match for me, Bilwis. It is well within my capabilities to destroy you, if you do not comply,” she demanded with more confidence than she felt. It was true, completely true, but using such a threat in this situation felt like a lie . . .

Bilwis’ ancient skin just twisted up into a viciously joyous smile. “Then kill me, little girl. For I will surely die with this selfsame smile upon my lips!”

And just like that . . . Ana knew it was over. Without even realizing it, her legs betrayed her and she collapsed to her knees. What else could she do? In her heart, she knew that Ayame would not survive the lengthy flight back to the headquarters. She knew that no one would arrive in time if she called for help, and even if they did, none of them would be of any real help. Because she had failed to make the right choice, Ayame would die . . .

“But, if you . . . if you do not assist me, then Ayame will die,” she stated quietly, more to herself then to her enemy.

A harsh laugh cracked the air like a whip. “I do believe that you begin to understand. I will do nothing to help your friend. Because I will it to be, your Ayame is going to die!”

Ana dwelt upon those words for a long moment, the warm sensation of her blood running down her cheek bringing her mind to sharp focus. “. . . Ayame will die without your assistance,” she whispered to herself, “Yet you refuse to offer aid . . .”

Bilwis cocked her head to the side, watching in amusement as Ana continued to whisper to herself.

“You refuse to offer aid, because you wish her to die . . . Ayame will die because you refuse to offer aid . . . You wish her to die, so you will not act. Thus . . . your inaction will directly lead to the death of a human . . .”

The spirit’s brow wrinkled further as the aged crone tried to decipher her words. “I know not what you speak of child. I suggest you leave so that you may be at your friend’s side during her last moments. It is the greatest act of kindness I could ever imagine granting to one of your kind.”

Suddenly, everything crystallized in Ana’s mind. She knew exactly what to do and why it needed to be done. The how would follow shortly, but for the first time ever, it had been her to determine those first, critical questions. With deliberate grace, she rose to her feet, her sword still digging into the soil at her feet. Intent in mind, her eyes rose to lock with Bilwis’.

As soon as their gazes locked, the spirit shivered unconsciously at what she saw. Ana held the arctic stare. “You pose an imminent threat to Ayame’s life,” she stated with grim finality. Her piece said, she took a step towards her prey, sword dragging behind her.

“W-what?” Bilwis actually backed up a step, her back pressing against the rough bark of the Oak. “What foolishness are you speaking? I am no threat! I am doing nothing!”

Ana just nodded. “By choosing not to act, you are contributing to Ayame’s demise. Your deliberate inaction can therefore be classified as an intentional threat . . .”

Another step took her closer to the Oak.

“What are you doing? That makes no sense, this is insane!”

Ana just shook her head. “On the contrary, it is perfectly logical.”

Even in the near darkness of the grove, the light still reflected keenly along the length of her blade.

--

She tossed and turned, trying again and again to hide her eyes from the merciless light that seemed so intent to burrow its way through her eyelids. She was so tired that she wanted to sleep forever, but that damned light was everywhere! With a weak groan, she realized that if the sun was up, it likely meant that her lessons were going to start soon anyway, and her masters never appreciated tardiness. Why did she always have to have lessons on the mornings when she least wanted to wake?

With the great sigh of the oppressed, Ayame forced her lethargic eyes open so that she might face the morning torment . . . Wait a moment. Something seemed to be slightly wrong to her sleep addled mind. She didn’t recall the ceiling of her room being a gruesome, gunmetal grey. Nor did she remember her bed being so narrow and uncomfortable . . .

She blinked several more times to dash the sleep from her eyes. No . . . no, this was definitely not her room. In fact, it looked very much like the interior of their transport . . . For that matter, since when was Ana kneeling at the side of her bed this early in the morning? She certainly hoped the girl didn’t make a habit of it; disturbing wouldn’t even begin to cover that scenario.

With great effort, she pushed herself up till she was sitting. “Um . . . Ana? What are ya doin’ in my room?” her voice was still thick with sleep. Oddly, Ana didn’t answer, or even look up to face her. It was strange, since the girl was obviously awake, her pale eyes staring at some random point on the cot. Suddenly something clicked in Ayame’s brain, something which demanded her immediate attention.

“Ana, where is your sword?” she asked quietly.

Silence seemed to stretch on into eternity as she waited for Ana’s reply.

“It is . . . no good any more . . . I need a new one,” replied the girl barely even in a whisper.

The answer was puzzling, even more so, since she couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen the girl without the weapon. It was completely alien to see the girl without it, unnatural, almost . . . And then another tumbler clicked, there was blood all over Ana’s face! What did that mea-

And then she remembered . . . everything. The battle, the feather, collapsing . . . What had happened after that? Despite the fact that she wasn’t dead being a tremendous plus, a disconcerting feeling descended on her soul like an arctic gale. This time, she studied the young girl before her with intense scrutiny.

“Ana, you’re trembling!”

And then Ana finally lifted her gaze. As soon as their eyes met, Ayame felt her soul freeze in place. Even as Ana knelt before her, trembling and weaponless, two things that Ayame had thought to be completely impossible for the seemingly invincible warrior, only one question came to her mind.

“By the Gods, Ana . . . what have you done?”

--

Down below, far below, an unusual grove of trees stood, a massive oak appearing to crown the entire gathering. Below this peculiar sight, sat another peculiar sight, perhaps even stranger than the grove itself. It was surely something that did not belong there, this rather unremarkable long sword thrust so violently into the hard wood of the towering oak.

An errant breeze, perhaps caused by some equally errant aircraft, sent the long blade to wavering in the wind. Disturbed by the sudden movement . . .

Two small droplets of water ran down the blades gleaming, razor edge.