Windstill illness. The transition between the Land of Marsh and the Land of Demons was a short one, leaving one dead land for another. How long had it been since she had set foot here? One year? Two maybe? The memories of her past flooded in as she took a deep whiff of the air. It smelled like home. The scent of familiarity. And that of responsibility. Under the guise of an eternal night, the wandering occultist moved unopposed through the land until she could see the buildings which formed the village where she had once lived. Idyllic. Nothing had changed in the slightest, people going on about their business as usual. Would they even recognise her after all this time? There was no saying. There was no risking it either, so the Jugo hid her face under the hood of her crow cloak before continuing her path. It wasn't all that far now. Just off the beaten path, the house of her parents still laid in ruins. Weeds and herbs had overgrown the area, dust had settled. No one had bothered with the ill-reputed Crowly family, other than to give the corpses of the dead a proper burial. Most likely they considered the place cursed. Good. That meant no prying eyes while Lais rummaged around to find back the journals. The last thing she needed was people poking around when she wanted to be left alone.
The wooden door cracked under her effort. Dust whirled up, greeting an old familiar. The air was nipping, no sound to be heard, no light. A scurrying rat seeking shelter from the unexpected visitor. Nothing unusual. Amethyst eyes glided through the dimly lit room, memories flooding her mind as she remembered a time where life inhabited this place. Unfortunately, there was no turning back. The time for regret had long come to pass; apologies a pointless endeavour as the dead cared none for them - and Lais, of all people, could know. Life, with or without them, had moved on. The last thing she could do was preserve her parents' legacy by taking back the journals and putting them to good use one way or the other. Moving forward in the inky darkness, Lais followed the trail of her memories to where the journals had last been sheltered. Inside that peculiar chest under the wardrobe. Kneeling, her hands did not need to search long to find the last vestige of her legacy. Pulling out the chest, she clicked open the box and saw the leather of the familiar journals glisten under the dim light.
Then things took a turn for the worse.
A Summoning symbol lit up and as fumes betrayed its activation, Lais jumped back damning her own mother in the process. Out of the smoke came forth a hoofed being, scraping a broad axe over the ground as it snorted. Sweltering fumes left its nostrils, dark red gleaming eyes fixated upon the 'intruder' who had dared to lay her hands upon treasured secrets.
"Θα επιστρέψεις. Ήρθες να πεθάνεις?"
"Ugh, Khazra. Really, mother? Couldn't you have bothered to teach them proper speech?"
"I'll have you know, human, that I speak your filthy language just as well."
"Please, spare me the condescending tone, Khazra. I'm Crowly Lais, daughter of the one who summoned you. I'm well aware of what you can and can't do."
"Then you know you should not have returned."
"Let me guess. This isn't going to pass without either one of us dead, isn't it?"
A flicker of a grin appeared on its ugly mug, and with a solid stomp later of its hoof, the house had become an earthen prison. Trapped in the Khazra's private arena which hardly consisted of a ten by ten area, the Jugo invoker her spear and prepared herself to block the wild swing of the Khazra's axe. The smack of the axe against the spear send shockwaves through her arms. He was stronger. Not by that much but still stronger. As the Khazra was slowly getting the upper hand in the push, Lais allowed her skin to blacken as the war-mind of the Jugo absorbed more senjutsu chakra from her environment. Blades grew out of her elbows, claws formed where her nails were.
"From one monster to another? You don't stand a chance, Khazra."
Lais allowed the goat its advantage, using its pressure and weight against itself by suddenly rolling away. It'd briefly lose balance, granting the girl her momentum in which the blades slashed its leg open. Not grunting in the slightest, it regained its posture and swung its axe again. The weapon found the elbow blade, clashing hard, and sending the girl reeling backwards.
"All talk, no brawn. Roll over and die already."
Cocking her hand backwards, Lais threw Einherjar into the goat's direction with all her force. He'd step aside, scoffing at the obvious attack, before the claws of the Jugo viciously slashed its face. As it regained posture, one chakra enhanced blow in its muscled stomach sent it flying against its own walls, creating a crater large enough to crack the arena's limitation, but other than having the goat get slammed into its own walls it had little impact. Dried earth flaked from its stomach, doton chakra having served him as a second skin. Crawling out of the crumbled walls, it cracked its neck and fumed briefly.
"I felt that one."
"Serves you right for talking down on humans."
Bellowing in rage, the summon charged the Jugo. She in turn took a senbon and flung with all her might in his direction, missing him by a hair. He'd grin, believing a thin needle could hardly harm it and swung his axe brutally in her direction. The impact alone drove the Jugo to kneel down, gritting her teeth as she bit back the shockwave going through her body. No damage would be done, black glistening scales of chakra revealing a supernatural defence. Additionally, the needle he believed to have missed was but a ruse. Lais had missed on purpose, the invisible chakra string attached to it now snaked around the spear she had thrown previously. One swift pull later, Einherjar was pulled back and drove itself into the back of the Khazra. Then, as it pulled back its axe to swing a second time, Lais slashed the elbow blades across its chest before driving one of them deeply into his heart. Black blood poured out of its wounds.
"You lack worldly experience, Khazra. Now return from whence you came."
Pulling back her blade, the Khazra turned to stone before it crumbled into a mass of earth. Einherjar clattering into the ground before it got picked up. Taking a moment for herself, the Jugo listened to the surroundings as her techniques dissipated. All was quiet.
With the summoned guardian gone, the journals were now ripe for the picking. She took the three journals - the Three Keys - out of the chest and into her hands. Her amethyst eyes gazed upon the calligraphic lettering she was so familiar with. How many times had she not seen the titles of these journals through different eyes? Eyes filled scepticism, blinded by her own goals. Her father had been right all this time, it seemed, considering she was helding them in her hands. Pressing them against her chest. Wetting them with bittersweet tears. There really was no turning back. No undoing the damage she had inflicted. Even with the best of her will, even if she abode by her mistress' wishes, the blood in her veins would sooner or later force her into a path of destruction and chaos. All she could do was accept the fact she was cursed. Come to terms with that knowledge. Just like she had come to terms with the death of her parents at her own hands.
Having given herself a moment of respite, she tucked the journals away for now. Here was not the time of place to flip through the old pages of Yobadashi lore. The secrets of the Three Keys were within her hands, now it was a matter of moving away unseen. There was not much of a home to go to, but the dead in the Land of Marsh at least would not ask any questions. Nor would they rise against her for being different. In a way, it was where she belonged. Away from the living and into the hands of the dead. They were just as forsaken as herself, yet freed from the curse of consciousness and guilt. Freed from dealing with their own failures.
Taking a swift peek outside the ramshackle house and guaranteeing that there still was no one who had seen her, the Jugo stepped outside and 'faded to black'. Slipping into the Otherworld, where no mortal senses could register her. Gone from the world of the living, moving past the souls of the forgotten and the lost.
And soon enough, away from the Land of Demons.
[EXIT]1508
-1500 : learning Fuinjutsu
260/320, 90/100
- 15 : Combat Transformation
- 15 : CES
- 05 : Puppeting Technique
- 15 : Spectre's Resilience
- 10/-10 : Fade to Black
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[LoD | Plot] Reconciliation Sun Jun 02, 2019 4:09 pm
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