Fallout

My arculai once told me that what once was will always be...that anything currently in existence will remain with us on some level.  It might be intangible to even the senses of a demon, but it will be there until the end of time.  For this reason, we remember all that has passed and count on the fact that some part of it is still here.

Oh, how I wish that were true.

I have possessed many names in my short life, but the one I held most dear no longer matters.  The story I tell now will be lost in the depths of time, for my line dies with me...there is nothing left of the world I knew.  The Kageshitei are no more...and I curse the cruel fate that made me their destroyer.  Listen now to a tale of a people unseen by the world...may thee witness the race you condemned in a new light.

I was of the Kageshitei...a part of one of the strongest and most feared demon races ever to exist.  We were the best assassins in the spiritual world, taught by the Yautja themselves in the arts of stealth and concealment.  Our race was one born with hearts of ice, trained from infancy in the arts of invisibility, the skills of the warrior...and the suppression of all emotion.  Passion was foreign to us, much like reason is alien to most of the elven races.  We were the "messengers of the night", the unseen shadows that stalk the darkness and slay the corrupt.  The world mattered little to us, and we were bound by neither politics nor loyalty to any but our own.  Time and space were as nothing; they fell easily before our powers.  Masters of the elemental arts, no two of us have identical abilities or powers.  My own forte lies in the energies of shadow and the black void, with ice and a hint of lightning mixed in.  With it, I do not simply mingle with the darkness...I am the night itself.  You will never know the feeling of being one with the primal forces of nature, and no one I know of has yet found an apt description for the experience.

I was arit-jia leitaki for all that I was young and inexperienced.  Our command structure was based on skill and power level rather than age; experience is developed over time.  But mayhap they should have chosen someone more experienced than I...another may have seen this coming and prevented it.
 
It began with a mysterious messenger who approached the Disuuri Takainaarin one day.  I had just returned from a routine scouting mission and was watching the kaitirin train with their respective arcula.  They whispered something into the ear of Aliara, the Iisitke.  The look on her face was one of horror.  She turned to look at me for a brief moment, then pulled a nearby kunirin aside.  She gave him an order, and he scurried off.  Minutes later the great gong rang, calling all of the Takainaarit into council.  They were secluded for hours that day, and for several days after.  An atmosphere of worry pervaded the disiniret for days afterward, and the Takainaarit, when they were seen, had an air of concern and resignation about them.  One of them approached me a few days later and told me not to worry, that everything would be taken care of.  I did not learn of her meaning until it was far too late.

For weeks there was an unseen yet tangible tension in every adult, and even in some of the young ones.  In time, every one of the adults adopted the same resigned air as the takainaarit.  I was sent on many missions, far more than usual.  In hindsight, I should have realized that something was amiss...there was every indication that something was wrong, and I missed them all.  I was too blind to see the sudden changes in the attitudes of those around me, even when it was staring me in the face...!

They sent me on a mission that would last for a couple of days, an assassination that would require me to study my mark in detail before making any moves.  He was a leech who fed off rich and poor alike, a parasite who stole his wealth from those who could not defend what little they had.  I should have been suspicious that his sort had always been my favored targets, the deaths that I enjoyed the most...if "enjoyment" is indeed the proper term.  Such men as this were easy prey, terrified of the unknown.  This one turned out to be no obstacle, just like so many like him: falling easily to fear, he half-killed himself before I even approached.  I made certain that his death was not easy...the chemical that ended his life is never gentle.  It took me nearly three days to wrap up and cover my tracks; I was in no hurry.  The death of this naliz had been more than satisfying...I rarely enjoy killing, but that one was almost fun.  What eventually sent me homeward was a vague feeling of wrongness coming from that direction.  It was an undecipherable feeling, an impression that I could not localize.  And now I will always wonder what would have happened if I had not hesitated.  Would it have made a difference if I had gotten there sooner, or would I still have been too late?  I will never know, now.

Night was falling as I approached my home nearly a day after I departed my target's village.  A sudden heaviness began settling upon my mind and heart, sinking its talons deep within my psyche.  The feeling of wrongness increased steadily the closer I came to the disiniret.  I could sense the wrongness in the land and air...the trees shouted at me to move faster.  I began jumping the distance to reduce the time it took to get back, and even that wasn’t enough for the feelings stirring within me.  I called on the implacable might of the black void in my desperate need to move faster…something that I rarely do, for the voids obey no whim but their own.  Today that immense power was on my side...it came with a vengeance, filling the gaps in my body and soul to complete me.  I was moving faster than ever I had before, but the essential question still remained...would it be enough?

The closer I drew to home, the more ominous the impressions that flooded my senses became.  I could almost taste the tension of the land that had protected our clan for nearly five hundred generations.  My heightened physical senses picked up the scent of blood coming from the direction of the disiniret.  My inner awareness screeched that it was the same blood that runs through my veins...a common thread shared by all Kageshitei.  No matter which of our many bloodlines of power were dominant, the foundations remained unaltered.  I pushed my endurance to its limits, attempting to jump directly to the disiniret but only managing twenty miles in my turmoil.  I felt a bit dizzy after being forced from the shadowed paths through the wraithlike netherworld of darkness, but I continued onward despite it.
 

When I was about a mile from home, the scent and sensations of blood and pain became overpowering.  I fell out of the shadows and dropped onto the grass, breathing hard.  There is something of a psychic link between the members of our race that works within a certain radius...the standard distance is half of a mile with some deviations based on individual aural strength.  In some of the strongest members, that radius extends up to a mile.  I was just within the range in which I should have been sensing them, and yet I sensed little.  Something seemed to shift within me then...I was nearly overcome by a sensation unlike anything I had experienced.  My heart seemed to constrict under the weight of a desperate need to know what was happening.  It both crippled and empowered me, and I rose with a fire inside that both burned me alive and chilled me to the core.  It was coupled with a sinking sensation that I was about to experience something far worse than kaitirin training could ever have been.  I was trapped in these new...feelings; it was like nothing I had ever known.

I was moving again, even faster now.  Blood lay heavy in the air, and there were far too many recent aural traces in the area.  Kageshitei were only a clan of 500 members, yet I was sensing the fading traces of at least 10,000 entities of varying races.  I suddenly recalled something I had overheard while on surveillance a couple of days earlier.  Someone had mentioned a "host of 10,000" out to "subdue the recalcitrant clan that had dared refuse the Demon Lords' generous offer."  They had not mentioned which clan was involved, although they had mentioned the appearance of a true S class demon.  The true S class was barely a myth now, so I had disregarded their comments.  No one had seen or heard of the slightest trace of such an individual in well over two hundred generations...millions of years.  No one alive had any experience with such an individual; the very lore was lost.  In addition, if such a one had appeared, why was a clan being exterminated?  In all of the rumored instances of one so powerful, the clans in question had been all too eager to turn against their too-powerful member.  Was it possible that a true S class being had appeared again, and the clan of the individual had refused to cooperate with the Deisi Ceilaedrii?  I could not think of a more foolish choice.  But why was I even thinking about this?  It was impossible...the fever dreams of the overly paranoid.  It could not possibly mean anything.

Could it?

I ran like the cold northern wind itself, moving through the trees as I was born to do.  The air hissed with tension as I passed, leaving a faintly crackling trail of electricity in my wake.  I spotted a few strange individuals as I passed by them; they never even felt my presence.  I looked down at them with contempt; if these had been my marks, I would have killed them quickly.  It would not have been worth the effort even to watch them suffer.  I moved on, passing ever-greater numbers of people, none of whom I recognized.  I was moving too fast for any of these low-levels to detect, but I could not afford to be incautious with so many possible hostiles in the area.  There were far too many people around for comfort...could the disiniret have been compromised?

I was about a quarter of a mile away before I first smelled the smoke.  Though my senses are far superior to most spiritual entities, scent is not one of my primaries.  I sped up, pushing my endurance nearly to the breaking point in order to see what had been occurring while I had bee away.  Obviously there had been an assault of some kind, but could some of my people still be saved...?  Perhaps most of them had fled, remaining alive to return and fight again.  If nothing else, the younglings would have been saved.  Surely something would have remained free of the destruction...

I began to hear shouting, and the distinct thunder of clashing blades.  Yet even as I approached, those sounds began to diminish, leaving me wondering which side was emerging victorious.  Surely the Kageshitei had prevailed against these weaker beings?  Most of these wishing-to-be soldiers were of the D class or lower...there were no S classes, and few if any A's or B's.  My kindred were an average of B class or higher...how could they not have beaten these worms on simple demon strength alone?  The powers of my people far outweighed them...the only advantage they could possibly have had was that of superior numbers.  But even with that knowledge, I felt myself growing cold, numb.  Why was I feeling this way?  The victory of Kageshitei was assured.

I was on the fringes of the disiniret now...I could see what was happening while remaining hidden within the canopy of the trees.  All of my people's dwellings were ablaze with unnatural fire; bodies of soldier and kin alike were strewn everywhere.  A few fights were still going on, but for the most part the battle was over.  My heart had constricted into a ball of ice within me, leaving me devoid of thought.  It felt as though the black void had opened inside me...I was hollowed out from the inside.  I had not yet ascertained the victor of this skirmish, but the weight on my soul felt unbearable.  I now believe that my soul already knew the outcome...realized what had happened on a level beyond conscious thought.

I witnessed the last deaths, the final battles as they came to a close.  The last Kageshitei in view that remained on their feet was Katuras, my second and the only one to whom the term "kareshi" (in human terms, "friend") had ever applied.  I saw no others standing, and I could sense no other surviving clan members in the vicinity.  His final opponent lay dead before him, but I knew immediately that he would not survive the grievous injuries inflicted upon him.  He was covered in blood; at least one vital organ had been hit, and the primary source of blood to the brain had been slashed past repair.  It was astonishing that he had outlived his opponent, let alone that he could stand and move.  Even the most skilled healer known could not have repaired his physical body; the mutilation was too extensive.  It was certainly too much for my limited knowledge of healing and psychic surgery.
 

I watched as Katuras swayed on his feet, struggling to stay upwards and moving.  He stumbled toward the trees, every step a struggle as he fought to breathe and staunch the flow of his lifeblood.  With ever movement his aura faded a bit more, and very shortly he would have no more.  I was uncertain as to what would kill him first...blood loss resulting from injury or aural drain.  Obviously he was fighting to stay alive, but to what purpose?  Death is nothing to such as we; fighting that final journey is only delaying the inevitable.  I could see the power of his soul draining away, and his demise would be total if his aural field broke.  There are many degrees of death...the only truly final death is that of the soul.  He surely knew that he was close to shattering his auric field and falling into the oblivion of true death.  So why was he fighting so hard?  What was he stalling his physical death for?

He made it into the tree line of the forest, about one hundred yards from my position.  I watched him stagger further from the carnage toward some unseen destination.  I followed from a discreet distance, waiting until he had moved a safe distance from the disiniret so that I could jump without being detected.  I watched as he tripped over a stone and fell...I witnessed his struggle to get up.  He was so persistent, but he simply did not have the strength for it.  I came up behind him...he could not even hear my approach.  The only person who had always known where I was, always detected my presence...was now unable to do so.

I stepped up to him, grabbed onto his arm.  I spoke to him in our native language, Ningali; "Haesuite daake, Katuras.  Neigetanoite suukire inoi harakan.  Niihari taruke inihoe deish inihire, suurai.  Rigetanneit."  With those words, I initiated shadow-jump; swirls of darkness enfolded our physical forms and conducted us instantly to a cliff about five miles away.  I knew of no one beyond myself that came to this place, so it was reasonably safe to assume that there would be no one waiting for us there.  We appeared on the edge of the precipice, where I proceeded to run a swift scan of the immediate area.  I could detect no signs of the presence of any spiritual beings, nor the life signs of anyone, demon, human, or otherwise.  In the falling shadows I slumped to the ground, Katuras' head cradled on my lap.  He spoke; I leaned closer to hear what he was saying.
 

"Aihadreshi...you came.  But...w-why are...you here?  The...iisitke sent...you away."

I chose to ignore his use of the word aihadreshi...I could think of nothing less appropriate to our circumstances or our existing relationship.  'That was four days ago, kareshi.  The assignment has long since been completed.  Why has this occurred here, Katuras, and where are the survivors?"

"There...were none."

"Truly?  No one remains?  How can that be?  Our people are too strong to be overcome so easily.  I saw their opponents!  They were...!"

"Overcome...by ten thousand."

"No...it cannot be."  I paused, my heart beating rapidly.  It could not be...could it?  "I heard...in the village...a host of ten thousand to slaughter a clan."

"You...heard rightly."

I took a deep breath, trying to control myself.  All of the pieces began falling into place.  If that part of the rumor was true, then the other...

My voice shook as I asked a question to which I suspected I already knew the answer. "Who was it, Katuras?  Which of us was the true S class?"

"You...know about that?"

"I overheard the nalizes discussing it in the village.  Now tell me...who was it?"

"Knew this...would happen.  Sent...away...protect from them..."

"Who was it, Katuras?  Who brought this doom upon our people?"

For the first time, he looked up into my eyes, his gaze boring into my soul as the ice of my heart cracked and shattered.  But I refused to lose control...not now, nor ever again.  I could barely hear him as he whispered the answer: "You...aihadreshi.  You are...true S class."

I tried hard not to let the lightning bolt of shock show in my face or voice, yet I failed.  I had been expecting the worst, but this...!

"How...can this be?  I am the same as everyone else, no different from you.  How could I not know?"
 

"True...S class rarely...knows.  You were...our secret...our...leader...our friend.  We...could never...betray you to...them."

"So they sent me away.  To...protect me."  My vision blurred, and it felt like someone was ripping out my heart, shredding my soul in the process.  My mind was screaming, but I managed to keep it from showing in my voice.  Almost.
 

"Why!?  Why would they do that?  My people...I did this to them?  Why did they not surrender me to the Deisi Ceilaedrii?  Why did they send me away when my death could have saved them? "

"Your death...would have solved...nothing.  They still...would have..."

"Nieit!  The Deisi Ceilaedrii would not have attacked!  I am an expendable asset!  I..."

His hand reached up and touched my face; it came away wet with a clear liquid.  I felt the fluid substance streaming down my skin, but I had no notion of what it was.  I abandoned thought of it as he started speaking again.

       

"You...must not...blame yourself.  Not...your fault.  Nahada...deish, aiedreshna.  Our people...will always be...one.  I...will be with...you.  Always."

"Nieit...catuornai tiraki, Katuras.  Paietanas!"

"You must...go now.  You are...in aural flare...Keitanu.  They will...be here shortly.  Run...go now."

"Not without you."

"...must...leave me.  My strength...gone.  You...cannot...save me.  Go now...they are nearly...here..."

That was the last thing he said to me.  He slipped into unconsciousness, a sleep from which he would never wake.  I could hear the running footfalls of pursuers nearly on top of our position.  I stood to watch the tree line, holding Katuras as well as I could.  I watched as they broke through into the clearing, could see the recognition as they saw me standing there.  The leader strode to the front of his men and stopped, sword pointed in my direction.  He spoke to me as if his words, his pathetic will, actually meant something to me.  "Surrender to us, demon; you are wanted for questioning by the Deisi Ceilaedrii.  Come quietly, and they may be merciful on your pitiful soul."

I did not answer, merely took a step backward toward the cliff's edge.  Then another.  I could feel myself standing on the edge of oblivion with nowhere else to go, and I did not care.  Nothing felt important anymore, much less my life.  I turned away from the weak soldiers and embraced the open sky, taking Katuras with me.  I could hear shouts of dismay and denial from behind me, could feel their eyes tracking the seconds of my plunge.  I initiated shadow-jump, not caring if it actually took effect.  If death had meant something before, then it was truly without meaning now.  If I died in this manner my physical body could die with my people, and the pain of my heart would stop.  But I could feel it taking effect just as I entered the canopy of the forest; my physical body would survive, but nothing else would.

The last thing I heard as the world faded into black oblivion was someone shouting orders to search the ground below the cliff.


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More than a year has passed since my soul died.  My physical body still lives, but my psyche is shattered far past repair.  My entire world is gone, decimated with the clan I led for so short a time.  They were all that truly mattered to me; all I had...and now they are gone.  No matter how I search, I cannot find them, for their demise was more than merely physical.  Nothing exists of them anymore, and I have no one to blame but myself.  The strange liquid still falls from my eyes from time to time...I cannot stop it.  The heaviness in my heart never fades...I never forget.  Many a lonely night I have contemplated hara-kiri, but I cannot do it...not yet.  Not until I secure what legacy I am able.  I have taken a spiritually sensitive human into my care and am passing on what little he is capable of learning, for I could not bear it if all of my people’s knowledge and skills were lost.  The young male thinks that I am a "god", as he calls it.  I have no idea what that term truly means...I am not a human.  Based on the context of the statements in which he uses the term, I would have to conclude that it is a mark of respect.  When I have taught him what little I can, I will send him back to his own realm and seek my end.  I no longer care what becomes of me...as long as the curse upon my soul is ended.  May death bring me some peace, and memories fade away into the night that is my domain.