Dragon Shaman 2: The Smoky Mirror

Dragon Shaman
Book Two: The Smoky Mirror
Chapter 2: Return to Sengen Jinja and the Boy in the Mirror
By: Teresa Huddleston-Garcia (LadyRainStarDragon)

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The forest trees rushed by as Ryu used every bit of his draconic speed in an attempt to leave the Tengu behind. His cargo groaned, her fever mounting once again swifter than he could have ever thought possible, her hands like ice where they touched his chest.

“My heart, my kokoro.
Precious treasure, sleep.
Forgive me Kokoro!”

Dark Chocolate eyes gazed gently down at the woman sleeping within his arms, examining her pale skin and committing a pert nose to memory. Her short auburn hair waved gently in the breeze as he carried her through the forest, her glacial eyes lost in dreams as the memories of her stay in his world were buried.

The breeze tousled his unruly black hair, setting the ever-present spikes to wave as if even they felt guilt at hiding her memories. The young woman moaned a little, turning her face toward him, her fever having returned when he had thought that surely she had conquered her sickness. The white of her buckskin dress only accentuated the unhealthiness of what should have been very lightly tanned skin that had been toasted to perfection a week ago. A backpack bumped on his back along with a staff, the only belongings that she had brought with her into the Forest of No Return.

Ryu continued to croon, now wordlessly, as he ran through the forest toward where the humans had a shrine. Gone were the silken reds and yellows of his kimono that mimicked the magma, replaced with black slacks and a white buttoned down shirt. The smell of Tengu and Kitsune nearby drove him to run faster, although he had to be careful of his precious cargo. A harsh voice over-rode his worried tune.

“Give her to me, Dragon!”

Ryu growled as he leaped to the side, still doing his best to continue on a forward path, dodging the being that had materialized where he would have been. He did not stop to regard his assailant, having already had his fill of the red face, fire-poker nose and coarse brown robes.

“She is mine to protect Tengu!”

“You know nothing!”

Another Tengu materialized, this time right beside Ryu, snatching at the human in his arms. Ryu manipulated the ground beneath them, causing holes to open up and swallow the crow spirits that were trying to steal his Treasure.

Ryu kept running, darting around the rocks and beneath the reaching boughs of the twisted cryptomeria trees. Unnoticed, an object wrapped in leather made its way to the top of the contents of BlowingWind's backpack, then dropped unheard upon the moss underfoot. A red fox darted out from the underbrush to secure the package, then hid again with its prize as he waited for his compatriots to find their way out of the embraces of an irritated earth.

The song of a river filled the air as mist closed around Ryu and the woman he was defending, and a red bridge came into sight.

“Finally! I've been running for hours!”

He pounded across the spanning arch, the phantom water receding as he crossed the boundary between his world and hers. The mist cleared, and now the trees were shorter, twisted, as if ancient magic had stunted them even though it was only the work of nature and old eruptions. The gateway closed and the sounds of the river stopped, taking with it the smells that had been hounding him.

High in the sky, a hawk circled, then filled the air with his cry. The wind rose, and seemed to spur the dragon on faster as he ran. With another cry, the hawk faded back out of sight. Ryu looked up briefly, taking stock of what possibly was another threat.

Even though he had crossed safely, he did not dare stop his run. The forest kept flying behind him, the pines growing larger and straighter as he left the aftermath of the latest eruption of Mount Fuji, and at last the Torii of the shrine came in view. He ran past the few humans who were still milling about, the latest festival having finished last week if he had not lost track of human time too badly. His now highly scuffed oxfords resounded on the stone flagging as he passed under the Torii, skidding to a stop to rinse at the Temizuya.

“My, my, such a hurry young man. I have never seen anyone literally running onto the shrine grounds my entire life.”

Ryu looked up from the water, his eyes following the laughing old voice to see a familiar old priest in plain white robes and black hakama, a broom well in hand. Ryu gasped lightly, the stitch in his side from his miles long sprint through the forest tearing paths of fire in his sides.

“You always did joke that I was the most devout local that you’d ever be likely to meet, Kannushi-san.”

The old man’s deep-set granite eyes settled on the woman that Ryu was cradling. A moment passed while he took in the sleeping and flushed form.

“MountainChild-san is ill. How did you find her? A search party was sent out for her last week, but no traces could be found.”

Ryu’s heart froze as he realized that he needed a story.

“I was on my way back in from my sabbatical out at my cabin, I found her lying beside one of the streams. She looked sick so I took her in for a bit, but she just kept getting worse instead of better. On my way bringing her in, I thought something was chasing me.

He laughed nervously, fighting the urge to turn around to look behind himself, hoping that the seemingly unreasonable spirits hadn’t followed him and that the old priest wouldn’t try to delve deeper into the truth. The old man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That explains why we couldn’t find her, although you probably should have brought her in sooner. Follow me, and we’ll get her comfortable. I’d send her to the hospital, but she left clear instructions for us before she went out that she was not to be sent to the hospital if she was found injured.”

Ryu sighed, the spikes of his hair calming down and looking only slightly disheveled instead of the terrifying mass it had been, following after the priest to the living quarters of the shrine. Their steps echoed, rebounding off of the building and driving the half-truth back into Ryu with all the comfort of bone spurs. At last, they had stepped up onto the wooden porch and left their shoes, and he followed the old priest inside.

The shrine building itself seemed to be keeping a wary eye on the man carrying the woman it had known only briefly. The wooden walls developed eyes for Ryu as he observed the grain of the wood, the same with the floor. The priest led him past Miko who were turning to look after the woman, recognizing the woman who had brought the gift of the Hawk Dance from so far away for this year’s fire festival.

At the end of the hall, the Kannushi turned, sliding open the shoji leading into a simple room. In the open closet, a futon and comforter were neatly folded, and sitting on top of these was a blanket seemingly covered in hawk feathers. A jolt of recognition singed Ryu’s body as he tried to keep from staring at it, the identity of the mysterious hawk maiden from the festival now revealed to him. The priest moved to the closet, carefully putting the blanket on another shelf before bringing out the futon and comforter. It was only a moment while the old man was unfolding the mattress and then preparing the comforter, but it seemed like an eternity as the man watched Ryu and BlowingWind from the corner of his eye.

Finally, Ryu was able to lay the woman on the futon, automatically covering her with the blanket next before the priest could do anything to help. Deft hands tucked the comforter around the sleeping woman and carefully arranged the slowly lengthening hair around her head as he smiled at her. The priest quietly stood up.

“I see she means something to you, young man.”

“The world and more Kannushi-san.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high Ryu. I know that you’ve been searching for a wife for a while now, but I don’t know if being the wife of a teacher is something that would appeal to her.”

Ryu stood up, only to sit near the door.

“Thank you for your years of friendship, but that is for her to decide, and not my concern right now. Right now I only want her to get well. I will sit and watch her.”

The old priest nodded his head, withdrawing quietly with the intention of fetching some medicines for the woman’s fever. Ryu waited until the last muffled sounds of the human’s shuffling retreated down the hall before moving again to sit near her side, taking her hand.

“I am so sorry. I thought that we had the solution. Please forgive me my hitogami. You’ve come so far.”

BlowingWind lay still in the bed, her hand still as frigid as the ice beginning to grip his heart yet again.

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Karasu finally managed to get out of the hole, having found it a little difficult to teleport out from underneath several feet of uncooperative earth. We brushed off what he could and then began to pick it out of his feathers using his claws, until Kori’s loud squawk made him flinch. Gaining control of himself, the Karasu-tengu glared at the newly freed Dai-tengu

“Do you enjoy almost making me fall back into deep dark holes Kori?”

“That’s not why I squawked! Look, the gate is shut!”

Kori pointed toward where the bridge spanned the river, the bed now dry as evidence by the lack of sound. The pair ran for the border, and the sight of the stones verified the reports of their hearing.

“How did he manage that? He doesn’t have the training to close a gate, he’s still technically a kid as far as dragon age goes.”

“I don’t know Karasu. But I don’t like it.”

“He didn’t. It was closed for him. That hawk that was following her did it.”

Akaisu came out from behind a bush, properly gold eyes watching the sky. His long black hair was now pulled back in its customary top-knot, his green kimono and hakama neatly in place as his wakizashi lurked quietly at his side. A russet tail tipped with the same midnight that tipped his grandmother’s white tail’s hung softly behind him, limp as if his deeds shamed him or he had been scolded.

Karasu clacked his beak.

“Why didn’t you get her? You were the only one that he didn’t bury.”

Akaisu held out the leather-wrapped package.

“In a way, I did. Part of her soul is hiding in here. This is also attached to that boy she has been dreaming about. When she wakes up, she’ll come looking for this, whether it is part of the memories that are being hidden now or not.”

Kori took the package and unwrapped it, revealing what seemed to have once been a perfect orb of blackest obsidian, struck in such a way as to render two halves and two natural mirrors. Only one of these was in the package, but surely the mate was somewhere out in the world. The face smoked, then cleared to reveal the scowling face of the soul whose features Akaisu had borrowed from the memory of the young shaman they had pursued. The young man’s lips pursed, then parted as his eyes flashed.

“Leave her alone. I swear that if you hurt her there will be no end to your torment.”

Karasu leaned in, looking into the mirror over Kori’s shoulder as Akaisu studied the grass at his feet.

“You’re just a mirror, what are you going to do? Show us illusions of ugly faces?”

The image of the young man disappeared, a black mist pouring out of the mirror and taking the shape of a great dragon. The spirit rose up and then arched down toward his prey; jaws open and ready to devour the two Tengu.

“Amehana no kami no hyoushi!”

Akaisu darted forward, drawing from his kimono an ofuda and slapping it onto the stone and then his hands flashed through several signs. The mist broke up and returned into the mirror, a crimson mane and flaming eyes the only thing that could be seen in it.

With a face the pale color of moonlight, Kori carefully re-wrapped the mirror.

“That’s what the dragon can do to us, Karasu. He was apparently quite powerful as a living being and not trapped between the worlds of life and death. We are lucky that Akaisu is the grandson of that human priestess who had become a Ryugami like her ancestor and then chose to become a kitsune like her husband.”

Akaisu accepted the mirror after Kori handed it back to him, placing it in a pouch hanging from his obi. Frowning, he went to the bridge, recalling the water from where it had hidden and opening the gateway again to the human realm. After all was correct, he crossed the bridge and went through the mist, followed by the Tengu. Thoughtfully they made their way to the shrine, disguising themselves as ordinary men before even drawing near the Torri and passing beneath.