Dragon Lady
A shallow beginning.
He wouldn't allow himself to be scared. He couldn't. His mind didn't allow him to. Somehow, even his callow mind pushed away the idea of fear controlling his every movement. He wasn't used to it. Yet there he was, sitting with his back firmly against the trunk of a tree, eyes wide with shock and trying to register the fact that he was sitting in a pool of thick blood, the body of a dead woman lying in his lap.
He gingerly pushed her body aside, and breathed in a large gasp of air, as if her limp body was sucking the air from his lungs. He stood up quickly, the red liquid dripping from his pants. He didn't look around, already knowing what his eyes were to meet. All he could do was stare at the woman sprawled on the ground, a huge slice in the middle of her back. And all he could think of was how this woman used to be his mother.
The chirping of a bird woke him from his state, and he jerked his head up. His mouth quivered and his leg shook with fear. From where he stood, to where he knew the royal procession would have been, a multitude of bodies masked the ground. Blood splashed against the trees, and the clothes of every man and woman. He looked at his own clothes, and was not surprised to see the substance on his shirt and pants. All he wanted to do was get away…away from the all the red.
The bird he heard earlier flew down, and landed on the branch of a tree not covered in blood. It wings fluttered and fit snuggly at its side. The boys gazed traveled to the bird, and was surprised to see golden irises stare back at him. The bird cocked its head, and regarded the boy with an air of curiosity. The feathers that covered its body were a fiery red, yet when the color started towards the tail, it merged into a deep orange. It was mesmerizing, and made the boy forget his very reason in the forest.
The boy walked toward the bird, their gaze never faltering. He stepped over bodies, and corpses, and all he could see was the bird on the branch. When he reached the branch, he was amazed at how close he was to the bird. There it perched, never moving, and it seemed, never breathing. He reached out towards the bird, and jerked his hand and head back as a raspy voice speak through the eerie stillness.
"You…you survived…"
His eyes found a thin hand stretched out near the royal procession. He raced to the man, indifferent to the corpses scattered in the area. He stood over the small body, and looked in fear and disgust. The man's neck was practically gone, and yet he was talking.
"You!" he managed to spit out despite his physical wound. "Who suffered the wrath of the Doragon Kifujin and lived! The mighty gods look at you with favor…for never has there been a man so lucky."
"Who…who are you?" The boy's voice faltered as he stared at the unlucky man on the ground.
"…Does it matter? You, what is your name?"
"Shugoryuu," the voice trembled.
The old man's eyes went wide. The boy might have thought he was finally going to die. But even that seemed impossible, for there he was, his neck missing, and he was talking to the boy. Instead, the man went on.
"Shugoryuu…Do you honestly speak the truth? Come…help me up boy." Shugoryuu helped the short old man up to his feet, his eyes never leaving his neck.
"You neck…"
"Bah! It will heal in a few days. She killed me once before…still hurts though…but enough about me."
Shugoryuu stared in shock at the man. Heal in a few days…? What kind of man was this? An entire chunk of his neck was gone, and yet he would heal?
The man gave him a confusing expression and mumbled, "Mystic…"
A mystic! That certainly explained some things. His shocked expression slowly left his face, and the boy understood. He listened to the man with keen interest on what he had to say next. He had never met a mystic before.
"First we must find the nearest village and alert them, for who knows what evil may still be lurking in these woods"
"B-but the bodies!" The short man dismissed the subject with an arrogant wave of his hand. He reached down and grabbed his staff, and dusting off the dirt gave a sly smile.
"Let them be. They are dead. Let the villagers bury them."
With that he wrapped his stubby hand around the boy's shoulder, and the two walked away from the murder site. Shugoryuu looked back at the bodies, wanting to see his mother's face for the last time, yet all he got were memories.