Forest of Darkness (Alvis & Hemlock)

[Alvis Alendran]

Arrows sank into the ground to either side of him, making the man grin. It was always better this way, to know where you stood, and to thank the Gods for giving you another chance to find glory. The mounted foes were coming closer, discarding bows in favour of swords. Fools. The word came to him easily, knowing that they may have very well surrendered their only true chance of beating him. Two swords were on his body, one on his back, one on his hip. He drew the blade on his hip, the old blade a comforting weight in his hands. It had been with him for many years, and carried him through his exile. Now, here he stood, discovering that the land had not in fact forgotten him, and now sent small groups of killers to bring him down.

As the horse came close, the man leapt to the side, moving to the other side of the charging animal, forcing his foe to try and change his swing completely. The chance never came, as a sword swept low, taking a lower limb from the horse, and sending the animal screaming to the earth, the rider flying through the air to land hard, and begin to shakily rise. An arrow landed near his feet, making the warrior look to the oncoming forms of three more attackers.
"Stand coward! Stand and fight!" A voice shouted at him, his native language sounding strange to his ears after so long away from it. The horseman close to him came around, but the warrior did not stand still. He used the dying horse on the ground to aid in a leap to attack his enemy, removing the surprised man's head in a single blow.

He had not been born with the name he now carried. But exile had a way of changing the priorities of a man, and he had taken on a new name, from a foreign land. Erasmus he called himself, and he saw the oncoming foes, saw more still behind them, and shook his head. He was good. But he doubted he would be quite that good. He ran.

The tree line was near, and horses would be of little use within the denser terrain. There was a half thought in his mind, something about this wood, but it was like old music, half-remembered, unfocused. He heard a volley of arrows thud into the trees around him, banishing any thoughts of retreat. He dashed inwards. He began to cough briefly, something at the back of his throat irritating him. An arrow sturck a tree not a foot from his head, telling him that pursuers were willing to follow him part of the way in at least. He kept going, ignoring the strangely coloured mist that collected around him.

Teh pursuers drew up, none willing to go more than a few paces into the wood. At a quick gesture, they began to spread out, moving along the treeline to cover any chance of a quick escape from the trees. They would leave the exile to the fate he had chosen by entering the cursed place.

 

[Hemlock]

Two pointed, ivory ears twitched in the twilight, moving towards the direction of the disturbance within the dark forest’s shadowy depths. The fox spirit tilted her head towards the sound, raising her chin from her folded paws and scenting the air. They were humans, nothing more… Shiro’s breath, caught like a knot in her throat, released slowly as she assured herself that her Master had not yet returned. Of course, he had assured her that he would not return until the next full moon one week away; but this wouldn’t be the first time he had blatantly lied to her just to watch her expression when he came home early. Though her anxiety over his early arrival was eased, her curiosity over the strange commotion had not.

The kitsune rose to her paws, three tails flowing gracefully behind her as she stretched her legs. Too long had she been sitting in silence, lazily watching the golden koi fish in the pond swim languidly back and forth. Still, it was the only thing she could do and it was a soothing relief to her Master’s usual games. Looking back towards the large, gloomy palace before her, Shiro determinedly made up her mind, throwing caution to the wind about her next actions. Running beyond the direct vision of the large structure would have normally put her at the mercy of the youkai, but with him gone, she was not afraid to chance an act of disobedience. Besides, there was no way to even dream of escape as long as this accursed ribbon remained tied to her throat.

Miss-matched amber and cerulean eyes narrowed in a focused manner before Shiro took off towards the forest. Greenery blurred on all sides, her nimble, graceful form dashing through the claustrophobic area with ease. Who would walk past the perimeter of this forest? Surely, the people of the village had lost enough curious children to its ashen fog to be sure than no one approached it again. The miasma did not bother a creature like her, but it spelled death for all mortals foolish enough to cross the treeline. The disruption was certainly nothing more than a riot caused just outside her Master’s territory.

Sure enough, just as Shiro approached the end of the forest, she spotted a group of frustrated men. They were pacing around the perimeter of the woods impatiently, their horses whinnying anxiously as wisps of the miasma curled around their hooves. What were they doing here? Were they waiting for someone? As if on cue, the sound of distant footfalls alerted her to another being, this time, one within the forest. Rather shocked and honestly confused, the kitsune turned tail, chasing after the sound. A human scent… Had he honestly been as bold as to enter the forest? Being left at the hands of his enemies on horseback would have been a much more merciful death. Did he not know that? Appearing like a phantom streak of white against the blackness around her, Shiro ran after the ignorant man. A mixture of strange excitement and fearful curiosity grew within her as she neared his location.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

The arrows had finally stopped. He was too deep into the dense trees now for any shot to come close to him. Erasmus stopped, taking a deep breath, and then hacking and coughing, some vile taste on his tongue. There was something wrong with this forest, and he was starting to suspect he knew what it was. This ill coloured fog felt wrong, clawing at the inside of hi lungs. But a man had to breathe, and if he was breathing, then he could be moving. He slowed to a walk, not wanting to draw in more of this vile smog than he had to, and began to pick his way through the woods. He kept his sword in hand, wondering if there was something within these woods that might threaten him, give him cause for combat.

The air was becoming closer, and that only made this miasma of fog cling closer to him, making it harder to see, and even harder to breathe. He coughed again, this time a wracking thing that nearly doubled him over. As he gasped a breath, he paused to take stock of his situation. There was no sound. No bird calls. No tree rodents. All was silent. And this was a very bad sign. He was getting the impression that this fog might be a poison, and that being herded into this place was a sure way of killing him without further loss of life. And a most inglorious end to him. And that would simply not do.

Erasmus kept moving, leaning on trees now and again, feeling his strength starting to ebb away. He coughed hard, and spat the taste from his mouth. The spittle was discoloured, the same look as the fog. Well, that's a terrible sign. He thought to himself, and girt his teeth. He had to find a way out of here, but something about this forest made him think he had been turned around. A root caught his foot, and laid him out on the ground, landing with a thud and clatter. He groaned, his throat feeling like it was on fire. He was going to need help.

 

[Hemlock]

Moving silently through the woods, the kitsune watched the man with observant eyes. Shiro’s heterochromic irises took note of each of his movements and the more specific details of his dress and appearance. He was not, she soon realised, a man who lived anywhere nearby—which would explain why he was still trudging his way through the forest. It was strange; though his features were clearly Japanese, his attire was not and his obvious ignorance of the woods spoke of a life lived far from this country. A traveller, perhaps? A traveller about to die, Shiro thought morbidly, watching with some difficulty as he coughed and hacked, bent over with the effort.

She should go to his aid, she realised; she should lead him out but the sword in his hand and the small band of men on his trail made her hesitant to do so. If he were to see her, what would he do? A pelt like hers was worth an Emperor’s fortune and if he was aware of how much more worth she held alive, he’d be far richer than that. Her Master would no doubt punish her for it, possibly to near-death everything considered. But he’s not here now, a voice whispered to her from the back of her conscious, and you can’t possibly leave the man to die, can you? No, Shiro was not as cold as that.

Hesitantly, the three-tailed kitsune made her way out of the shadows. Slowly, gingerly she padded towards the fallen man, amber and blue eyes focused on him with a sense of observation that was far too intelligent to pass as an animal’s. Her white fur was pure and unblemished, seeming to collect the faint retreating sunlight and glow like a beacon amongst the surrounding darkness. With that same cautious pace, she sat a few feet in front of him, ears perked up watchfully and all three flowing tails swaying silently.

“You are dying,” she informed the man plainly, though the chime-like sound did not come from her mouth; rather, it seemed to pass from her own mind directly to the human’s. “This forest is a poison to all mortals who dare enter it. If you do not leave soon, you will perish here,” the fox spirit paused for a moment as if her next words were difficult to speak aloud, “I can help you.”

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Erasmus looked up from where he lay, his arms shaking from the strain on them. Stubborn will would carry him farther yet, but he needed to know where he was going. He raised his head as he felt something ringing in his mind, words that never touched his ears, and adrenaline surged through him, pangs of fear and trepidation piling up in his mind. He saw a white fox. Rare. Very rare, and valued. Eyes of mismatched colour stared at him, neither colour wholly belonging to a fox. The fog was likely playing hell his mind. He saw the tail of the fox move. And then another. And then another. Reeling back, he felt his back hit a tree, and his sword swept out, pointing at the kitsune.

Time away from home dulled some memories and instincts, but some never faded. And this was a creature out of legend and darkness. Things that preyed on the unwary, and caused untold levels of trouble. But then, he was a master-less warrior, said to cause trouble himself. Mayhaps he was not so different. Slowing his breathing, he let his sword arm drop, the adrenaline no longer lending him as much strength.
"Why would you help me spirit? What is the death of one mortal to you?" He breathed out, his breath still laboured and burning.

 

[Hemlock]

Shiro flinched reflexively at the man’s rapid movement, jumping to her paws and moving backwards several steps at the sight of his sword. Her tails lashed about in surprise, ears pinning to her head in a position of defence. She was expecting him to be a bit astounded by her appearance, but these sorts of precipitate reflexes spoke of a man who had seen more than enough warfare in his time. She watched him silently and with great caution as he settled back down, wary of his sword arm and unwilling to move any closer to him than where she stood now. He would only serve to wear himself out faster if he tried something of that nature again.

At his question, Shiro frowned deeply—an expression only visible through her eyes in her vulpine form. Of course, he had every right to be suspicious, but she couldn’t help but be offended. Did he expect all spirits to be flesh-eating monsters? Yet, his words struck a chord with her. She was helping him because she could not stand to see another life be taken by her Master and yet… The idea came to her like a lightning strike, seeming as dangerous as one as well. Perhaps… No, no; it was foolish. It would lead to her death, certainly… But this had been the only human she had spoken to in… Had it been years now? Shiro couldn’t tell, and frankly, she was hesitant to try and count. But, if this human, this mortal, were to help her; if he were to take off the ebony shackle tied about her neck and take her with him…

Freedom. Her freedom would be restored to her. And if they could cover enough ground before her Master returned, perhaps it wasn’t such a hopeless dream after all. He would search for her, of course he would; he’d tear the country apart looking for her but with her powers restored to her, enough distance between them and a warrior by her side…

“I promise to save you if you make a bargain with me,” she spoke solemnly, with an almost undetectable shake of nervousness to her words, “If you untie the ribbon around my neck and take me with you, I’ll restore your strength and lead you out of this forest alive. Do no harm unto me and I shall return the favour.” She hesitated, pinning him directly with that odd gaze of hers and speaking with so much emotion that one could have guessed that it was her life at stake instead of his, “Do you agree to my proposal?”

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Erasmus sighed, his arms feeling too heavy to lift, let alone swing his sword. He might be able to focus enough for one last swing, but that would be it. And he'd have to kill the thing with that stroke. But it was staying away from him, out of the reach of his sword. He was dying. Again. He'd been sorely wounded in some of his conflicts, and had nearly passed once. It was a familiar feeling, but not one that he had been hoping to revisit. He was not able to focus his eyes tot he best of his ability, and the miasma made it harder to track thigns. But her white fur seemed to almost glow. Was it a factor of her being a spirit? Or just her colouration?

He knew he was starting to fade. His mind was wandering to strange places. But she looked...was the right word hurt? He took a deep breath, coughed, adn concentrated on seeing. His vision sharpened up enough that he wouldn't be missing things from her. Frankly, if he was going to die, and be eaten by this thing, he did hope she at least let him die before she started. And then that voice was ringing in his head again. He made sure to pay attention, pick apart what she was saying.

Take her...with him? His mind rejected the concept, old habits and memories long dormant returning to the surface. One could not trust a spirit like this. Liars and cheats, nothing they said could be taken as truth. But again, the same could be said about his kind, and he knew that he was possessed of more honour than half the men of this entire land. How much of the old tales were truth, and how much was just fear, passed down for generations?

"Your....your oath. My soul will remain...untouched by your magics. I will have my mind. And remain my own man. Swear it by...the blood of your ancestors. And by...the tails you bear. Swear it, and I will agree." He managed. Oh, he was fading fast now, on his way out. But he had to be sure that something worse than death wasn't waiting for him. He had no idea exactly what she might be capable, but all he could do was extract the most solemn oath he could from her. And then pray he was not making a mistake.

 

[Hemlock]

The spirit waited for his response hungrily, the adrenalin rushing through her like wildfire. Would he accept? Or rather, would he be foolish and prideful enough not to? Of course, she hadn’t told him the true story, she hadn’t divulged the origins of the ribbon or her Master’s identity. Perhaps he would rather die than have to face a youkai such as him; and the kitsune wouldn’t call him foolish for that. Shiro was not proud of her dishonesty towards a dying man, but her freedom held more value to her than anything else this world could offer. If she had to trick a human into getting it back… It was a mark against her conscious that she was willing to bear. If he were to agree, she would do her best to preserve his life in repentance.

As he spoke, Shiro felt a wave of warm assurance and relief wash over her. It felt as though her very soul had been cleansed from a massive weight, heart trembling in throat with the euphoria of it all. “Yes, yes, I swear it to you. By my ancestors and by my tails, I will not alter your mind or your soul; I will only restore your strength to how it was. You will remain as you are, I promise you,” her voice was thick with passion and a fair bit faster paced with eagerness. As a spirit, she was sworn to keep that oath to her death, unless released by the man himself.

Carefully—though with a visible amount of more enthusiasm this time around—she approached the fallen human once again. In the back of her mind, a cautious voice warned her that he could always raise up his sword and wound her if he wished, now that she was close enough. Yet, Shiro could hardly bring herself to care. She had faith that the man valued his life more than that; and even if he were to kill her, how much worse would that be than the slow death consuming her now as she rotted away within the confines of this dark land? Her tails lowered in order to seem less intimidating and in the boldest motion of trust, she raised her chin, offering a clear view of the ribbon wrapped tightly around her neck—the ebony material contrasting greatly with her silky ivory fur.

“Please,” she urged him, close enough to his hand for him to tear the accursed restraint away; or slash at her throat with his sword if he so pleased.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

It was close. Erasmus knew he could summon enough effort to bring his blade crashing down on her, take her throat, her head right from her shoulders in that action. He could lay her low. But what would it accomplish? If she was intent on something underhanded, then his slaying her would not prevent the next creature from accomplishing something to his fallen form. And she had presented her throat, almost asking for his blade. But she had sworn an oath, and even amongst the people that he had learned his new way of honour, there was nothing in all the world more wretched and hated than an oathbreaker. He would not stain his soul in his final moments. If he was to live, he would have to place some trust in this creature.

His free hand shakily lifted from the ground, his teeth grit in concentration. His fingers grasped at teh ribbon, but he could get enough of a grip to pull it free. Was this how he was to fall, with what was to be his salvation at hand, but unable to grasp it. He growled, low in his throat, and gripped as best he could, before swinging his other hand over, his sword still in hand. The blade fell with a kind of finality, Erasmus knowing that he would be gone within a few moments of his swing. The blade fell on the ribbon, the sharp steel, ancient though it was, was still possessed of a lethal edge. The ribbon parted, adn the blade hit the ground harmlessly beside the fox.

The ribbon still in his off hand, Erasmus coughed.
"I've...done my part." He gasped, the miasma feeling as though it was filling his lungs with tar. "Help...me." He leaned his head back, his breath more and more laboured.

 

[Hemlock]

The kitsune flinched at the sword’s rapid movement, eyes shutting tight and breath catching in her throat. In the brief moment when she was certain he would have killed her on the spot, fear raked her very core and if she has been in her true form, she undoubtedly would have cried out in anguish. But the sword did not strike out at her, instead it sailed harmlessly before her whiskers, slicing through her fetter with ease. After the length of a breath, she opened her eyes, their twin-coloured depths looking deeply into those of her liberator. He was close to death now; she could see it plainly in the ashen tone of his skin and the dimness of his eyes. Just as he pleaded for her aid, Shiro began to transform.

It was very quick and very silent, her entire body seeming to be effulged in ivory flames. They licked at the barren ground around her and consumed her form, though no heat was emitted from them at all. The blaze rose higher until it suddenly dissipated, the fire seeming to transform into white smoke all at once. As the last tendrils of the silvery substance faded away, Shiro’s true form was revealed, kneeling beside the fallen human. Her supple, seemingly ethereal form was free of clothing or cover, milky skin almost as fair and pale as her hair which flowed long and straight in thick locks of pearly white. Above her head were the familiar ears of her fox form and behind her, the same three tails, grown in length to match her current size. Within a heart-shaped face of porcelain beauty, amber and blue irises seemed to be blurred by tears as Shiro couldn’t help holding them back.

The spirit stretched her arms forward, gently cradling the man’s face between her warm palms as she looked towards him with an honest expression of grateful joy. “Thank you,” she whispered through flushed lips, moving forward to press them tenderly against his own. The kiss was neither deep nor passionate, but it held a deeper intimacy than one would ever expect from something to featherlike. Through the motion, the man’s lungs would fill with air as fresh as any summer breeze and would be cleansed of the poisonous toxin in the air, body pervading with warmth. His strength would return to him as well as if he had been cured of any pains of past injuries, and the spell itself would make him unaffected by the darkness within this cursed land—at least for as long as it lasted.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

The was a flicker of light, brighter than anything he expected to see in this forsaken place. Erasmus lifted his head from it's place, and looked at the spirit. His brow furrowed as he watched, the fox changing before him. Modesty was clearly not a concern of the spirit, not judging by how she, and he now knew for certain that it was certainly a she, changed. Pale and smooth, her features too sculpted to be human, it was otherworldly even without the ears that were on her head, or the tails that showed behind her. She began to lean closer to him, and his first instinct was to bring his blade to bear against this creature, something that he had no true idea of it's ultimate goals or motives.

But his strength wasn't ther, his death was moments away when he felt the gentle touch of her hands on his face. The touch was...not what he expected. It was warmer than he, which spoke of her otherworldly nature, or to how far he gone he was. Her face loomed closer, and he fought his warriors instinct to but her with his head. There were other instincts that were trying to assert themselves as well, with so much bared female flesh in close proximity to him. But his failing health prevented anything of the sort.

Her lips were like the touch of the softest feathers, and there seemed far more in the gesture than he would have expected. He felt air flow into his lungs from her, and as she broke away from him, he tilted his head back and gasped, a long sound and a thick, oily cloud flew from his mouth, billowing into the air. His hands clenched, his old strength thundering through him. The headache he hadn't even realized had been plaguing him. He felt...great actually. Ten years younger in fact, and he looked around, then back at her. Well, now that his health had returned, the fact that there was an inhumanly beautiful woman leaning over him bereft of clothes was having it's normal effect, and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to give himself enough room to stand. Time for the rest of the deal.
"My thanks Ref fljóð." He spoke, the last words in a harsh, guttural tongue that utterly lacked the grace of his native language. "Now, can you lead us out of here? Somewhere that we will not be set upon by those who hunted me?"

 

[Hemlock]

Shiro flinched back at the man’s touch ever so slightly, a little taken aback by the unexpected contact. The bare pressure made her realise the nature of her appearance, looking down at herself with a small frown of disapproval. No, this certainly wouldn’t do, but with no clothes at hand… Once again, those same white flames licked at the spirit’s body, this time staying as low as embers and tracing only around the contours of her torso rather than her face or hair. When the tongues of fire finally retreated to smoke, she was left with the traditional wear of a miko priestess. While the haori remained white as custom demanded, the conventional crimson hakama and ribbons had been replaced with fabric as black as night, contrasting greatly with the rest of Shiro’s fair appearance. Though her ears remained perked amongst her ivory locks, her tails had been hidden from sight.

As the man spoke, the kitsune rose to her feet, soles still naked against the stale soil. The dewiness of her eyes had been blinked away, but there was no mistaking that fiery confidence within their depths. She bowed her head in response to his question and his foreign words of gratitude, seemingly more hurried than she had been a few moments prior. She raised her head, looking around her with a set expression of concentration. No matter where they ran now, her Master would know—there were dark, lifeless things in these woods that would no doubt divulge her betrayal to him as soon as he returned. Gods knew when that would actually be. As long as she was sly about the whole thing, the two of them just might be able to get out of the woods without running into anything else unpleasant. It was a good thing she had gotten to him first.

“Follow me,” she spoke firmly, her voice still maintaining that chime-like melody to it even as it was spoken from her lips instead of her mind, “But follow me carefully, there are things in this forest that are far worse than those who hunt you. I doubt those men assume you are still alive at all…”

The people of the village knew exactly how deadly these parts were; and since they had not seen the man escape through the only exit known to them, they certainly would have expected him to be suffocated by the miasma or eaten by the territory’s host. Shiro started off in a shadowy direction, opposite to that which the traveller had taken in order to enter—though considering how disoriented he had been, it might as well have seemed as if she was leading him directly back to his attackers. Her steps were quick, light and soundless over the earth, head tilting back to check on the warrior behind her.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Erasmus set off after her, his lungs feeling fine now, almost ringing witht eh newfound clarity, as though the years he'd spent near the smoke and ash of the battlefield had been lifted from him. Even the by then comfortable ache of several old scars on his shoulders were silent. It gave him a looser field of motion that was almost disconcerting. He'd forgotten how it felt to be this light. This creaure, though it was harder to think of her as a spiritual monster when she wore a shape like this. Dressed as she was it was much easier for him to keep track of her, though he did find himself mildly distracted by the ears. They just simply didn't belong on her head like that, and the absence of human ears in the location that they belonged gave her a very different profile.

The kimono she was very good at keeping her tails out of sight, though if he looked closely enough at her backside, he could still see them. And it wasn't much of a chore to put his gaze there after all, why it was-

It was going to be difficult he realized. Feeling this light and as though years had been stripped from him was making his thought process a little more skewed than it might be otherwise. He let his mind drift, and found the centre point of his mind. It helped keep him on task. And right now his task was to escape from this wood. He was levelling a lot of trust to the Kitsune, but he had little choice in the matter. She might have given him back his strength, but he had no idea if that could be revoked by her just as easily. And then he'd be in the same place he had been. He kept her words in mind, and tracked his eyes around. He didnt want to be caught off guard. He paused a moment to try to get his bearings, when the ground under them shook faintly, as though something very heavy had taken a step. Erasmus looked about, but got moving again.

 

[Hemlock]

Her pace steady and her eyes peeled, Shiro pressed on through the pitch of the surrounding forest. The miasma was thicker here, and even harder to see through. The kitsune’s slender figure moving soundlessly through the trees must have seemed like a ghost among the ebony, long hair trailing behind her like an ivory veil. She was conscious of the man behind her, keeping track of him by the faint thump of his footsteps and adjusting her pace so that the mortal could follow without losing sight of her in the darkness. Shiro was confident that he would not strike her down from behind—he needed her still. Fears of a betrayal would only prove useful once they exited the forest; for humans were not sworn to their words as her own kind were, and there was no real telling whether this man would decide she was more useful to him as a pelt than as a companion.

The spirit’s graceful, quickened steps stopped as a thunderous earthquake seemed to disturb the land. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned her head in the direction of the sound, ears pricked upwards like a startled animal’s. Her posture stood stark straight as she faced the distance; a massive, dark shape looming forward in front of them and approaching with heavy, leaden steps. No, no, she had so hoped to avoid this—her master’s personal guard who spent most of his time sleeping before this exact exit point. Had they woken him? Shiro wasn’t as confidant about facing the colossal creature now that her powers had been depleted by the spell she had cast on the traveller. The resurrection had involved giving the man her own strength, and although facing the great horned ogre would normally be a challenge, it seemed even greater a feat now.

“There is an oni that guards these lands,” she turned to face the man behind her, tone just barely betraying a hint of fear, “Are you familiar with their kind, wanderer? These beasts are not as easy to bypass as the mortals you are used to fighting. He has probably already scented your presence, but don’t give him the advantage of seeing you.” Shiro pointed towards a thicker tree a few steps behind them both. “Hide behind there; I shall take care of this myself.”

 

[Alvis Alendran]

When she froze, it was a rather...pointed moment. He stopped before running into her, and drew short, casting his eyes around. When she spoke, his attention snapped to her, noting the faint hints of fear in her voice which did nothing to reassure him. This creature, who defied the miasma, was bound in powers beyond his knowledge, was afraid. This would not bode well for him. This much was certain of. And as she spoke, he was cindicated. An Oni. As though being hunted by men wasn't bad enough, now he must face something beyond the pall of man.
"I recall them. I have faced things..." He spoke, and turned his head tot he side, a momentary surge of old fear as a memory exploded before his mind, recalling a night of blood and terror, and things that should not be within the world of men. So said the scholars that he had spoken to in his travels, men who reasoned that such things could not be. Men who had not travelled to places where all men knew what waited in the darkness. She pointed him to a tree, and he opted to trust her, to follow her advice, and hope her word was good, that she had not led him to a worse fate than what he had been saved from.

With a heavy tread that spoke of one still waking from a deep sleep, the oni stepped around the trees, adn into the low light. Erasmus felt his eyes widen at what he saw. From story and legend, the beast was real, and standing befor him. He felt a moment of sheer mortal terror, a reminder that was bone deep that facing such a thing meant nought but horror and pain beyond imagination. And it was standing not twelve feet from him. Skin the colour of dried blood, it loomed up over the fox-woman, nine feet tall if an inch, and layed with thick bands of muscle that stood out strakly. A long mane of white hair hung down, though the top of the head was bare. Short but heavy bone horns adorned it's head with a sense of almost regality, and Erasmus could see a faint echo in the way higher ranked samurai showed their status with horn-like marking on their helmets. No weapons were carried, save for the clawed fingers, but with size and strength like that, what need of weapons did such a thing have?

"Little fox." It rumbled as it looked down at Shiro, it's voice sounding so very much like wood under great strain, a groaning sound that rattled Erasmsu. You have left the palace. Master will be..." It trailed off, sniffing the air, and started to look about, before noting the important difference on Shrio. "You are unbound! WHo has done this?!" It roared, the sound very nearly a physical thing, rattling the trees, and seeming to buffet the air. Erasmus fought back the urge to cry out from the sound alone. The woman likely counted on his aid if a fight was coming, but how could man face such a thing? He squeezed his eyes shut, and in that moment heard a voice, a memory of the last time he had been confronted with something like this. The Gods breed monsters friend. And man has given answer. We breed heroes to face them. Erasmus opened his eyes, his soul at peace. Heroic he might not be, but in the absence of a true hero, he would stand in that place. He just needed an opening.

 

[Hemlock]

Shiro felt herself take a long, steady breath in the shadow of the beast before her. Her ears were not pinned completely back, but they slanted in an angle of caution and vigilance. She took another breath before matching her heterochromic gaze with the onyx, beady eyes of the crimson oni blocking her path. She couldn’t let him live, she realized. If he were to survive he’d call upon their mutual Master as soon as he regained his bearings and the youkai would be upon her in mere moments. He’d rip the human male apart first, and then he’d deal with her. The stakes were raised now; it wasn’t only that she had to defeat the oni but she had to kill him as well. No simple fox tricks would be able to finish off this goliath.

“Do not move,” that same, indirect voice echoed in the mind of the male, “Do not move and do not make your presence known no matter what happens. I cannot protect you and defeat him if he discovers your location. Please.” Again, that hint of desperation could be heard in the very corners of the chime-like sound. If he were to pull something foolishly courageous as human males were so prone to doing, there would be no point to any of her struggles so far.

“Ibaraki!” Shiro called out with her own voice this time, hands set at her side in twin fists—the action occurring more out of nervousness than bravery. “I have earned my freedom so far, and I will not allow you to spoil it. Swear to me that you will remain silent about my escape or else I will be forced to cut you down.”

The kitsune’s words were as sharp as daggers and as immovable as stone. She may have been anxious about the impending battle, but she was not lacking confidence in her own abilities. The chances of Ibaraki accepting her proposal were less than slim, but it only seemed right to give him the chance. Spirits were sworn to their words, after all and it would save her some time and a hell lot more energy. If she were injured after this… Her teeth clenched at the thought. How was she supposed to make any distance between this place and herself if she had a weak constitution to worry about?

Eyes narrowing in concentration, she set alight her powers. Flames engulfed her form once more and the clothes from before were replaced with iridescent ribbons of ivory that clutched onto her supple flesh like a second skin. The creature was bathed in white fire licking at her body and stray sparks igniting around her form. Snowy hair seemed to float behind her as if made of the finest spider silk, the same white blaze immersing the locks but seeming to enhance rather than damage. Vulpine ears were raised high at attention and those three, burning tails were consumed by tense energy that warmed the stale air and brought electric life to the dead land. The heat and light cleared the miasma surrounding the ethereal spirit, her amber and blue eyes seeming to shine brighter even than the pure ivory of her body.

“You know what I am capable of. I’m not a simple fox, Ibaraki—you well know why our Master chose me,” she spoke forcefully with a grave sternness to her otherwise airy voice. “You have one last chance to accept my offer. I will not be merciful.” It had been many uncountable years since Shiro had last been in this morph. It was a position of power and it allowed free use of her abilities. Faster, stronger, swifter. A true ‘god’ as the humans were so fond of calling her kind.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Ibaraki glared down as the Kitsune garbed herself for battle. Oh, he well knew that this was likely a risky proposition for him to enter into. But he had sworn an oath of service to his master, adn he could not forsake that, not even for the preservation of his own self. And so he could not swear the oath she asked of him, nor would he, even if he was able.
"You have earned nothing! Only the master has the right to release you! You attempt to steal away! Escape your rightful place within this realm! And I shall not allow it!" His voice rose, and the very air seemed to crackle with his insistent demand.

Erasmus squeezed his eyes closed, hard, straining to keep to the words of the Kitsune in his mind. She called on him to not intervene, but he had no idea of her power, whether she alone would be able to stand against such a beast. And sitting out of a fight had never been the kind of task that he had been good at. But he would try. Try as hard as he could to follow her words. After all, she was the expert in this forest. And he had to trust in her. Though he also couldn't afford to let her perish. She was his only way out of here. And if the beast killed her, he had little doubt that he would likely be following suit shortly after. He let out his breath quietly, in a calming motion.

Ibaraki moved, and he moved fast. Far faster than anything his size had any business doing, and it brought both fists down at Shiro in an attempt to crush or at least cripple her. Unsurprisingly, she was not there to accept his offered blow, but the force of the hit deformed the ground, and shook everything around him. It was a blow that was made to not only attempt to kill a creature, but even a miss had the chance to rob the balance from those around him. Only his great mass let him whether that impact. Another missed swing came, but this one a powerful backfist that struck the tree that Erasmus had been hiding behind, taking it off nearly at the level of his head. Flushed out like this, Erasmus cursed aloud.
"Ingavin's blind eye!" He half shouted, throwing himself into a roll away from the beast. Ibaraki stared at the newly revealed man. Erasmus had little choice now, but to draw his sword. The goal was to stay alive now. And give Shiro the chance to strike hard.

 

[Hemlock]

Shiro ground her teeth at the oni’s berating words, despising the harsh reminder that she was nothing but property. Not anymore. She was free now and she would keep it that way no matter what the cost. It was regretful that this would not end quietly but there was no helping it. Her hands curled into fists at her side and her body tensed, preparing for her opponent’s first strike.

She saw the flicker of muscle across his shoulders, felt the minute quaking in the earth where his weight shifted and at once she knew where he planned to strike. Faster than one could blink, the kitsune has sprinted to the side, dodging the heavy blow of the monstrous creature before her. He was faster than she had expected, and though nothing could beat a fox’s speed, Shiro was ill-prepared for the thunderous earthquake that followed. Her legs wobbled on uneven ground and for a heartbeat, she faltered.

It had been a long time, far too long a time since she’d last engaged in battle. Her power, albeit highly formidable, felt raw and unrefined after having been neglected for so long. Under her master’s control she had been more of a trophy than a weapon—though many had valued her for the latter purpose as well. Thus, it was on pure, hard-pressed instinct that she found the balance and the agility to dodge Ibaraki’s second hit. Her teeth ground in frustration but just as she turned to face the beast once more, she heard the splintering of wood and the exasperated shout of a male voice.

No… Shiro’s breath hitched as her oddly matched eyes snapped towards the wanderer. She let the captured breath go free once a quick look-over assured her that he was majorly unharmed. Her anxiety spiked at the sight of his sword at hand. Yes, she had healed him and given him power but for a mortal to go up against Ibaraki… She had to finish this fast. And now that her adversary was distracted by the appearance of the human, it was finally her turn to strike.

Flames licked up her arms once again and she moved. Watching Shiro move in battle was nothing short of impossible. One moment she was standing to Ibaraki’s left, the next she was before him and in front of her companion, another heartbeat and she was balanced on his shoulders, hands covering his eyes. That blinding blaze of ivory power surged through her palm and to the oni’s eyes so that he roared in anguish. Before she could be thrown off by his tortured flailing she was on the ground, panting slightly at the second surge of power she’d used for the day.

“I’ve blinded him, but his sense of smell and hearing are still sharp,” she informed the armed man behind her, eyes still carefully trained on the writhing figure of crimson in front of her. “Be careful and keep to his flanks. I’ll finish this as fast as I can.” Her power spiked the air with friction as she readied herself. How fast could she take him out before he struck out against the wanderer?

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Erasmus had fought the inhuman before, and thought he knew what to expect from them. But it wasn't the great hulking beast before him that so startled him. It was his companion. He'd seen fast warriors, people who could draw and strike with a weapon in a movement of eyeblurring speed. He'd seen a creaure that was nothing of human, and seen it move fast enough to kill three men before the blood had landed on the ground from the first blow. But nothing prepared him for how Shiro moved. There was a faint blurr of motion, and then a momentary image of her standing before him, then she was on the shoulders of the brute, and power flared brightly enough to leave small spots on his eyes. And then it was another moment of stunning speed, and she was in front of him. He hadn't seen power like this. And he had to wonder if there were limits to what she was capable of.

Erasmus nodded to her words.
"So be it. Let us finish this then." He took a deep breath, and got both hands around the hilt of his blade. "Thunir guide my hand." He prayed quickly, and exploded forward. His movments felt slow and muted after seeing the stunning speed that his companion was capable of. He was not sure if his blade would be proof against this beast, but he was willing to bet his life on the attempt. Any less and he would do a diservice to himself. The beast sniffed the air, a hand on the ground, palm flat, and it lunged forward to inercept Erasmus.

Just as the man had known it would.

THe sweep of Ibraki's arm would have pulversized a man had it connected. THis was not a blow that could be parried, only avoided. Erasmus held his blade up, letting hte momentum of the arm drag it along the sharpened edge, laying the limb open. Foul ichor flowed from the wound, and he twisted his body to avoid it. As the liquid hit the ground, it raised a cloud of foul smelling vapour. Erasmus assumed it would affect him like the misama had, and avoided the cloud. He pounded a foot ontot eh ground, letting Iraki know exactly where he was, before leaping forward, balde held high for a strike, lifting his feet to avoid the sweep of limb that tried to bat him away. Even as his blade licked into teh side of the beast, drawing another wound before he had to bound away, he noted that the beast still had a hand pressed to the ground. It was waiting for Shiro to make a move. The moment she did, Ibraki leapt into the air and pounded both feet into the ground in a thunderous impact that sent Erasmus sprawling onto his back, denying balance to anything on the ground, and savagely rushing at the Kitsune.

 

[Hemlock]

With her eyes pinned on the hulking creature before her, Shiro had little time to notice that the wanderer had moved forwards and even less time to call out in protest. The exclamation died in her throat and she tensed, observing the man carefully as he attacked. If she were to help him now, Ibaraki would only have all the greater a chance at striking him. She could see the way the beast set his hand into the ground and flared his nostrils in her direction; he was after her, not the man. Following in his footsteps in an attempt to protect him would only allow the oni to concentrate his full force on one location which was his crude forte to begin with. Damn the mortal and his honour, why couldn’t he just play the coward for the sake of fighting another day?

Ivory ears pinned to her head, she could only survey the man’s motions. He was… Far better than she expected. But that technique was not of her homeland and the fluidity of his movement was nothing like the brutality of common warriors. Perhaps… Perhaps he had more than a meagre chance at survival—dare she say success? Her lips pressed together tightly and then twitched upwards in what could just barely be described as a ghost of a smile. Both his blows had hit their mark and his intelligent strategy made her own responsibilities that much lighter, paving the way for a more direct tactic. Speed was what was required now, and Shiro was well-enabled.

She lunged forward, a silver streak against the inky backdrop of her master’s land. Her steeled concentration faltered for a moment as another quake shuddered through the bones of the earth. The kitsune lost her footing, sprawling sideways and barely maintaining the last remnants of her balance with her hand that scraped the earth. The fall would have been less if she had not stolen a glance towards her newfound companion lying sprawled a few feet from her position. Before she could even begin to worry about his physical state, a large boulder of a fist rocketed towards her face and she was forced to roll sideways. The next blow was aimed directly at her torso and realizing there was no chance of dodging it, she raised up a temporary shield of charged energy. Shiro let slip a pained exclamation as the full force of Ibaraki’s power met her hastily-constructed safeguard.

The pressure grew against her and finally the white fox let go of the makeshift protection and allowed the oni’s steel fist slam directly into… A place she was no longer in. The only sound to be heard was the crushing of gravel under Ibaraki’s knuckles. And then a thundering roar from the creature himself. Shiro stood with one arm held against the newly-opened wound lining the beast’s ribs. Bursting white flame licked and tore through the sensitive area, somehow seeming to make its way within the crimson monster. It wreaked havoc through his insides, tearing through the miasma that made up his form and driving him mad with agony. All from the inside out.

“I warned you,” Shiro panted, the rapid surges of magic obviously straining her form. Though there seemed to be something else causing the groove between her brows. “You should not have raised your hand against me.” The ribbons surrounding her free hand congealed and turned sharp like a knife’s edge. Before Ibaraki could strike out at her again, she had lodged the weapon directly below his chin, silencing his growls and halting his movements.

 

[Alvis Alendran]

Erasmus was breathing hard as he got to his feet. Even blind, the beast was a terror to behold, charging boldly at Shrio with fists swinging. The brute was not dumb, and had approached this fight much more intelligently than expected. And it had allowed him to corner Shiro. Erasmus was back on his feet, Shiro looked to be in a tight spot, and his honour demanded that he go to her aid. His charge carried him close enough to strike low at the beast, the edge of his blade going through the dense muscle, the tip scraping bone. On a human, he'd have hamstrung the thing, but he had no proper idea if it worked on any snesible rules of biology. It seemed to work though, the leg giving way. Still Erasmus gave a bark of surprise and concern as the field Shiro had thrown up gave way, but he needn't have worried. She was simply gone, a blurring streak of movement, and as Ibraki was lower to the ground then before, he was more easily within reach. He barely caught the movement as she struck him, her hand ripping through his side, an appalling wound for such a small creature to deliver.

He heard her speaking, saw the strange ribbon like materials form into a sharpened point, adn hammer into the skull of the beast. As it finally stilled, falling silent now. With a shuddering sigh, the body bonelessly sollapsed, falling back, and settling onto the ground. Erasmus was breathing hard, his blood still up. With a solid swing, he hacked one of the horns from the head of the beast. Not carrying a weapon, it was hard to observe normal traditions here. But with the beast down, he sheathed his blade, and spared a look at Shiro. More than had met his eye, more than he had aexpected. He did hope that she had been truthful about not being able to break her word, since he did not fancy his chances in a fight against her. THough maybe his armour might save him somewhat? Perhaps much of her power could only be excercised against supernatural beasts? He did not know. And he would have to learn more to be at ease. But for the moment, they likely still had much ground to cover.

"Impressive ref fljóð. Very impressive. Should I be concerned? Are there other such as this around? Or should we simply...keep going?" He asked her quickly. his heart was still hammering, and not for the first time, he wished some of his old companions had come with him. Or rather, that he had let them come with him. A fight like this called for good ways to try and push the horrors and unreality of it from the mind, but were very difficult to do without proper comrades. But wishing for that which he did not have was a waste. He could do only what was within his reach. And right now, he only hoped that escape and survival was within his reach.