Imparting Quietus : Blood on The Axe [ Original / Yokai / Anime-based ]

[Lady Sophitia De Couers]

Small lilies... Sayuri.

They are often associated with purity, beauty, and innocence.
As a sea of small lilies are laid before all eyes to bear witness.
Petals raining like showers from the heavens, beckoning the union of a wedding or the parting of a beloved in a funeral.

But whatever the bestowment.

The lady amidst this floral abundance presents a most compelling juxtaposition of elements.
Her mahogany complexion radiates against the pale, shimmering silver of her hair.
It spilled around her like moonlight hitting dark earth.
Adorned in a roseate gown, she is not merely reclining amidst the blossoms but utterly assimilated.

A solitary petal within an expansive, vibrant mosaic.

Then a voice slowly crept into this vision of sanctuary.
The voice that creeps into the sanctuary isn't a shout, but a ripple.
It carries a tone that suggests it has been searching for this specific corner of existence for a very long time.



"Life cant be understoof backwards...

Inorder to understand it they have to live moving forward.

You still hold on...Because you are afraid of death...

For you havent lived..."

The moment the voice swam to her ears, she instantly knew who it was.



The voice of the silver-haired lady was a mere whisper, like parched earth greeting the gentle caress of rain.

"Sister..."

She replied as she struggles to open her eyes from her deep slumber.

The sea of Sayuri lilies rippled, not from a wind, but as if the flowers themselves were exhaling in relief.
A lady of black hair in a white dress who also seemed to be part of the sea of lilies manifested.
But on top of her, she wore a straw hat to guard her fair skin from the kiss of the sun.

"Oh...Sayuri...The road to hell is paved with good intentions..."
Her sister articulated her thoughts as a veritable deluge of petals danced around them.

"Which is why the road to heaven feels like hell..."
The sister's words hung in the air like smoke.

She leaned in, the brim of her straw hat casting a soft shadow over both their faces.
It shielded them from a sun that felt increasingly distant.
Her face was smiling, though no ill intent was seen nor felt.

The atmosphere was once a sanctuary of soft pinks and silver.
Now it is suddenly sharpened with the cold edge of a paradox.
The presence of a scythe resting against Sayuri's mahogany skin with a terrifying delicacy.

Then comprehension dawned on Sayuri as she was bathed in the shower of petals and scythe gracing her skin.
The serenity of the lilies shattered like glass.
The soft pink of Sayuri's dress and the silver of her hair were suddenly stained by the flickering, angry orange of a memory that refused to stay buried.
The smell of sweet nectar was choked out by the thick, acrid stench of burning timber and scorched earth.

"I remember now..."
Sayuri told herself.

"As you lay dead on my arms...I promised you..."
Sayuri opens her eyes.



"I would avenge us...I would avenge Shin-Saito..."
As those words were uttered in her mind.
The sea of lilies turned into a sea of embers.
The graceful dancing petals became flakes of falling ash.

The sister in the straw hat watched as Sayuri's eyes changed into a devilish yellow.
The fog of innocence and purity evaporated.
It was replaced by a hard and cold glare of boiling wrath.
The sister's smile didn't fade, but it took on a bittersweet edge.

The fires swelled to immense proportions.
Until it burst into a sea of devastation and death.


"And so I did..."

The tranquil sanctuary of the lilies finally curdles.
The soft pinks turning the color of dried blood as the devilish yellow of Sayuri's eyes pierces the veil of her own amnesia.
The memory isn't a burden anymore but it was an achievement.
As the shout echoes through her mind, the vision of the burning civilization solidifies.
This wasn't a tragedy she witnessed but it was a masterpiece she had painted upon a canvas.

"I burnt Baxian to ASH!!!
AND EVERY FOUL YOKAI IN IT!!!"

She uttered to herself in satisfaction.
The screams of the Yokai weren't a nightmare to her.
They were the only lullaby that could have ever put her to sleep.

She exchanged her grief for retribution.
Every Yokai that fell was a petal shed for the honor of Shin-Saito.

Baxian was an empire of yokai that held dominion with a most unyielding grasp
They had massacred countless human factions all in the name of their emperor.

To Sayuri, however.

She did not care for intricacies or nuances.
She exacted her revenge as wrathful as when the yokais burnt every single one of her loved ones in Shin-Saito.
A wheel of vengeance spun.
The fires of revenge bring a gluttonous appetite.


"The road to hell is paved with good intentions...

Which is why the road to heaven feels like hell..."

Her sister uttered as the inferno of Baxian's ruin vanished as quickly as a candle snuffed by a cold wind.
The screams of the dying Yokai were replaced by the haunting, rhythmic rustle of the sea of lilies.
The ash turned back into petals.

But the air remained heavy with the weight of a million death throes.

"The empire is ash.

The debt is paid.

But look at your hands, sister.

In this sea of lilies, are they reaching for peace...

Or are they still looking for another throat to slice?"

Her sister's voice echoes unto Sayuri's skull though her mouth did not move.

Then a revelation hit with the force of a physical blow.
More piercing than the fires of Baxian.
The molten lava of her rage meets the freezing depths of a forgotten truth.

The image of the Ko-Tengu from Neo-Tokyo.
A creature of the very same kind Sayuri had sworn to extinguish.
It flickered in her mind like passing memories.

Sayuri wasn't satisfied with just Baxian.
She resumed her rampage upon the entirety of all yokais whom lived.
But the blood on her trail had also begun to pick on the lives of innocent humans.

It was arguable.

It was no longer about retribution but filling the empty void in her soul.

She was slain by the ko-tengu.
And yet, the yokai spared her soul.
Allowing Sayuri a second chance in life.
That mercy wasn't just a gift.
It was a mirror.
By sparing Sayuri, the Tengu had done the one thing Sayuri had forgotten how to do.

It had broken the cycle.


"It boggles me...

The Tengu...

She spared my life...

Despite everything I've done..."

Sayuri questioned her sister, not understanding the decision of the tengu's mercy.
But a wrathful voice within her burst aflame like molten lava unable to be contained in the earth's core.


"BUT THIS HATRED THAT BURNS WITHIN!

NO!

I WONT STOP!

THESE FOUL YOKAIS!

ARE ALL THE SAME!

WRECTHED MERCILESS BEAST!"

The sister's voice acted as a cooling balm upon Sayuri's ire.
The sanctuary of lilies seemed to weep as the origin of their shared life was laid bare.

"Were we so different from those 'merciless beast'?...

We were orphans both in the Shin-Saito civil war...

Both of our parents were slain by human hands.

It was ma and pops who adopted us from the catacombs when we didn't dare to see the sun anymore, having witnessed our parents' death..."

The sister whispered with a dove on her arms as pets it gracefully.

"Have courage...

Sayuri...

Have the courage to let go of your past and embrace what is to come..."



The dream of the lilies disintegrated.
The soft, comforting scent of the lilies was replaced by the metallic tang of dried blood and the biting chill of the open air.
Sayuri stood alone in an unfamiliar landscape.
Her silver hair matted with the grime of a war that had ended everywhere except within her own mind.

Then a thought raced through her mind like doves taking flight to the skies.



"If I choose to share my sorrows...

It would sear the very tongue that utters them…

If I keep them locked in my heart...

It would ignite myself from slumber to sleep.

Thus, I release them into the world…

AND LET IT BURN!!!"



But now, in the silence of this unknown land.
There was nothing left to burn but the ash of her own memories.

She looked down at her own hands.

The Ko-Tengu had not just spared her soul in the vision.
She had stayed her powers from annihilating her physical form too.
It was an act of mercy so profound it felt like a new kind of torture.
To be forced to live with the weight of what she had done was a far more complex sentence than the simple release of death.

She had never asked her name before their fateful duel, for now she shall remain as The Tengu.
A warrior who had looked into Sayuri's yellow devilish eyes and seen something worth saving.

The sharp, rhythmic quacking of ducks broke the heavy silence of Sayuri's thoughts.
A sound so mundane and full of life that it felt like an intrusion upon her tragic grandeur.
It was a noise that didn't care about the fall of empires or the burning of vengeance.
it was simply the sound of the world continuing to turn.

As she pushed through the tall, dry stalks of grass.
Her yellow devil eyes were grounded by the earthy reality of the marshland ahead.
The tall grass gave way to a hidden pond, its surface shimmering like a sheet of hammered silver under the moon.

A small cluster of ducks paddled through the reeds, oblivious to the blood-stained woman with silver hair.
After the screaming fires of Baxian and the ethereal sea of lilies, the sight of the ducks was jarring.

It was a life lived without intentions of good or bad.

Sayuri stood at the edge of the water, her mahogany skin catching the natural light.
For a moment, her boiling ire went completely silent.
She watched the birds, her mind replaying the days when she played with her sister at the farmlands chasing ducks and chickens with laughter on thier faces.

The ducks didn't scatter in fear.

They hadn't heard the name Sayuri nor the monster of Shin-Saito.
To them, she was just another part of the landscape.
A tall, silver-haired reed standing still in the wind.

She looked down at her reflection in the water.
The blood on her face had dried into dark, flaking maps.
Beside her reflection, a single wild white flower grew at the water's edge.

A small lily…Sayuri.

The quacking of the ducks was a jagged, humble sound that tore through the remnants of her self-importance.
She leaned over the water for the first time and she truly looked into her reflection to reflect upon herself.

She didn't see a saviour.
She didn't see a hero.
By refusing to move on, she had become irrelevant to the living world.

With trembling hands, Sayuri reached into the water.
She began to scrub off the blood of her foes and the dirt of her long journey.
The water around her hands turned a murky,rusted brown as the blood of the Yokai dissolved.
She washed her face until the mahogany glowed again.
She splashed the silver of her hair until the weight of the grime lifted, allowing the strands float like ghosts on the surface of the pond.

She was like a sinner baptised upon the water.
Though can sins truly be repented?
That is determined by the mind and soul.

As the water settled, the ducks drifted closer.
Perhaps sensing that the fire in Sayuri had been doused.
Sayuri remained on her knees, her hands dripping, her yellow eyes staring at the ripples.



"Empty…"

She whispered to the reeds.



Her ire was now vacant.
She can no longer feel the sizzling hatred she bore in her dream.
The Tengu though nowhere to be seen, Sayuri felt her eyes watching her.
Judging her every future step.

She stared at the water for a long time in silence.
One could even mistake Sayuri as a spectre from afar.

Then the silence was broken but a gentle voice.
A young girl, framed by two dancing blue embers.
They looked like a creature of sevitude that heed every word the little girl commands.
She was dressed in a maid's outfit.
In her hands holding a duck, who was peacefully sleeping on her arms.
While a long line of other ducks followed her envious of the sleeping ducks, quacking at it.
Then it raced in Sayuri's mind.

Before her was a Yurei.

A Yokai.

And yet she fails to muster the rage to slice her in one fatal attack.
The Yokais Sayuri had hunted were supposedly merciless, yet here was a little yokai girl.
Showing a kindness that Sayuri had long ago burned out of herself.

"Are you alright miss?
My name's Ichikawa Yutaemon.
If you are lost, I can bring you into the nearest inn..."
Yutaemon asked curiously upon the mysterious women.

Whom she thought was a fellow yokai, Sayuri had long elf ears in her current physical form.
For Sayuri, in an ironic twist of fate, had turned into a yokai.
She partook in a forbidden ritual known as Kodoku that replaces the human heart with a Hell Bug.

One of the very few ways for humans to achieve powers rivalling yokais.

A technique developed by a sinister cult of dark practitioners that bends the rules of reality and frequent in the arts of taboo.
It was this very same cult that approached Ito Sayuri.

The word "Inn" sounded like a foreign language.

A bed?

A roof?

Food that wasn't scavenged from the ruins of a battlefield?

Sayuri stared at the girl, then at the sleeping duck.

The sheer ordinariness of the scene was what finally broke the last of her defenses.

"An... inn?"
Sayuri's voice was a cracked bell, unused to speaking to the living without a threat slung back at her.

Sayuri slowly began to stand, her limbs stiff like a rusted machine being forced to move.
She didn't look like the same butcher she once was.
She looked like a traveler who had taken a wrong turn a thousand years ago.

"I... am lost…"
Sayuri admitted.
The words felt like stones being pulled from her throat.
"I have been lost for a very long time."

She didn't mention the fire.

She didn't mention Baxian.

She just looked at the girl with a weary, searching gaze.



A tear rolled down Sayuri's cheek.