by JK Ensley
Sasuke Akoi was staring at the silent Emperor as Musashi took in each man’s face once more.
“The sacred gifts of the Shinobi have not gone without my notice. I wish to know each of your talents for myself. I will admit to mild curiosity, yes, but I wish to employ those of you whose abilities could prove useful.”
“Is Jinn at war?” Hanzo showed his sudden alarm. “Apologies, Sire. We keep mainly to ourselves and the news has not yet reached our mountain home.”
“Jinn is not at war. I do not need your magic for such as that. We remain at peace while I live. No man is my equal in battle. Ease your minds and let your children play without worry. I sought your village to satisfy my own desires and no Iga is commanded follow me. If I leave here accompanied, it will be by your choice alone. No threat is implied and no denial will be met with retribution.”
All present clan members relaxed at the Emperor’s words. Slight smiles now donned a few once hardened faces.
“So, you wish a showing?” Saizo chuckled. “A magical feast for the mighty Emperor’s eyes, perhaps?”
“And to see curiosity sated,” Musashi added.
Orochimaru inclined his head. “It would be our greatest honor.”
“We are many,” Hanzo warned.
“I currently find myself blessed with time,” Musashi said.
“Good.” Sasuke clapped his hands together. “Shall we begin?”
Chapter 5
Apollyon
(ah-PAH-lee-ahn)
Apollyon had never dreamt of happiness before the fateful day he’d seen that glorious, sparkling new soul standing within his gates, all covered with golden curls and smiles.
He carried the many pictures he’d taken of her in a small pouch hanging about his neck. He could scarce keep his hands off it. This soft cloth held all the treasure in the world to him. No creature in all of hell knew what lay within, save Ahriman, and that infuriated the darkest of Princes.
He’d thought he was alone as he thumbed through his beloved pictures of her. It had become his daily ritual, the only few moments he would allow his heart to feel joy. An unhindered smile spread across his face as he looked at the one he had taken whilst standing behind her. He loved the graceful curve of her back, teasingly hidden behind all those flowing curls. There was one of her playfully skipping down the crystal street, one he’d taken as she was laughing, and he had even been able to snap one of her almost catching a butterfly.
Apollyon had also held the camera out and took one while they kissed. Her dazzling eyes, so intent upon his face… this photograph alone was undeniable proof of the precious love she held only for him. A gentle glow illuminated those magical pink orbs, those loveliest of eyes, the only ones he could never forget… refused to forget.
Remembrance. It’s the most horribly precious part of my cursed existence, he thought.
He had taken a picture of her sitting upon the palace windowsill whilst they waited for King Merodach. He chuckled as he looked at it.
I know she’s tiny, but her feet don’t even touch the floor in this one. They’re just dangling there like a child’s… swinging back and forth while she bangs her heels on the stone wall.
He looked then at the close-up shot he’d taken of her in the doorway of the training dome… a single tear glistening upon her soft cheek, reflecting the brilliance of the waning sun.
Her memories of her training are both precious and painful. I wished I’d known her then. He hurriedly brushed away his regretful tears. Why did I have to defy Father? If only I had listened, if only I had put away my rancid pride, behaved as a respectful Angel, then perhaps I would have been chosen as her mentor. Perhaps I could have kept her safe, could have been her whole world… as she is mine.
But his favorite picture, by far, was the one he’d taken as she sat upon her knees near the rosebush outside her domed ethereal home.
Her radiance puts the lovely flowers to shame, he thought.
He’d captured her striking profile as she smelled a delicate pink bloom, almost the same color of her curls. Her hair was partially tucked behind one ear and that single blue curl, his curl, hung down in her face. The dazzling sapphire scar sparkling there upon her fair cheek, and the faint ones showing on her neck and arms… they were the glorious marks of where he’d touched her, where he had healed her.
“She is my rare treasure, my only treasure,” he whispered aloud, bitter heartache nearly stealing his voice. “All creation can wither and die, yet I will never let go of this priceless moment in time with my beloved Anicee.”
Yes, this picture was most definitely his favorite. This one captured everything of import, everything that’d gloriously transpired between them, it was all here. This single picture brilliantly displayed the extraordinarily magical impact they’d had on each other, body… and soul.
And that was the very image of Jenevier he was gazing upon, the one that always brought his tears, when he heard his soul-eating warrior’s sharp intake of breath. He spun around to find Ahriman peering over his shoulder, visually helping himself to the only thing in all creation Apollyon wished never to share.
He was furious. “By all that’s holy! Ahriman, I will rend your wings and toss your worthless soul into Sheol. Mark my words, Silver Eyes, if you so much as glance at her once more, you’ll meet your true death. I will show you darkness the likes of which you can’t even imagine.”
His right-hand commander had sworn it to simply be an accident, vowing never to mention it to another. “Milord, please forgive me. I came only because you asked to know the next time Raphael was escorting someone through the Nether. He nears, Sire,” Ahriman said, his head bowed, staring at his fierce Prince’s feet.
Yet still, the amethyst fallen Angel fled the hell Prince’s royal side that day. Choosing instead to roam about the layers for weeks, hoping his master’s temper would wane with time.
True to his word, Ahriman spoke not concerning the picture and the enchanting image it held. But Apollyon did catch him staring at the pouch dangling from his neck on more than a few occasions. The Prince of Hell’s warning growls were enough to train his dark general’s eyes not to wander anywhere near his sacred treasure again.
*****
Apollyon spent months near the closed portal that had once granted him access to Vanahirdem. He could never again look upon her, but this was the place he felt closest to her, and he was drawn here often.
“Father, have I not suffered enough? Have I not made proper restitution for my insolence? Have but a grain of mercy and cease my miserable suffering. Let me go to her once a year, a century, a millennium, it matters not which. As long as you give me but a glimmer of hope, my heart will be healed,” he begged. Yet no answer came.
They had been parted for several weeks when he was sitting near the portal that had pulled him back to hell—staring at her photographs, remembering her naïve giggles—when her voice entered his thoughts.
He smiled, thinking it to be but a beautiful memory… until she spoke to him about the babe she carried. His closed lids flew open, glorious sapphires searching the darkness around him.
He had told her about the child growing within her, only seconds before his departure.
We have never spoken thusly, never got the chance. This cannot be a memory for I am not so blessed as to even hope to be granted such experiences with my beloved. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Ah, it is her. I can hear my love’s voice. He placed his hands on the closed portal. She must be in the forest. She yet seeks me. She yet loves me. Her tormented soul calls out to mine. Tears poured down his face as he strained to hear her faint words.
Apollyon returned to that same spot daily. Over the next few months, he heard about how her tummy was growing and of how her aching feet swelled.
Oh, if I could but massage them for you, my love, I would happily spend day and night upon the glorious task, he thought.
He learned of her waning powers and the loss of her wings. He worried for her,
wishing only to comfort and protect her.
That Guardian of hers better keep a close eye out. If he lets even one hair fall unnoticed from her perfect head, he’ll be casting aside the very treasure I surrendered everything for. He will burn if he lets anything happen to her. I swear it.
The beautiful sapphire Angel smiled happily when she told him how she longed to see the moon and of how much she needed and missed him.
I swear that tiny creature would live on the moon, given half the chance. She loves it too much. He chuckled at the thought. No, she couldn’t live there. For if she did, she wouldn’t be able to look up and gaze dreamily at the soft glowing orb floating on a sea of darkness, surrounded by millions of twinkling lights. That magical thought brought a smile to his perfect face.
The vicious Prince of Hell cried tears of joy the day she spoke of hearing their son’s voice within her head, and tears of pain when she confessed having to be cared for and attended to by Varick because she could barely walk on her own and couldn’t possibly bend over, even if she tried.
I should be the one bathing my beloved, rubbing her sweet belly with even sweeter scented lotions. My only son and beloved wife will one day belong to another. My punishment is greater than I can bear. His tears burned as flames.
As the months passed, she spoke to him less and less as her journey through the trees became too difficult for her feet alone. After that, if he was blessed to hear her at all, it was as she spoke to her attending Guardians as they helped her keep her balance along the path she’d worn for him.
It had been several days since her faint words had reached his waiting ears, when he heard the unmistakable accent of the warrior who’d been with her on Spadroon, when God let him save her from Shabriri.
“Vittorio…” His whisper was a pain-filled plea.
This Guardian bothered him more than all others, even above her beloved Varick. This Vanir, this Vittorio, she held in her heart as the rarest of any jewel.
Apollyon knew exactly how much she loved this mighty sentinel. He was privy to every feeling she’d ever known, they were blended, she and him. The two of them had once been as one, nothing was hidden from him.
At first, he started to go. He didn’t know if he could live through the pain her words to this man might bring him. Yet he determined he would rather suffer a thousand deaths than to move from this very spot when he knew she was so close.
He heard every word as it passed between them… and his shattered heart broke anew.
Chapter 6
Vittorio
(vit-TOR-ee-oh)
“Aye, wee sister, how can ye still walk? I have cause tae worry yer tiny form cannae carry the son of an Angel.”
Vittorio laughed gently and his eyes sparkled when he saw her standing there amongst those ancient trees.
“I have cause to worry about simply breathing, Brother. No matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to fill my lungs to their former capacity.”
“The babe must find room where he can, wee lass.”
“I suppose.” Jenevier smiled. “But it sure makes it hard on Mama some days.”
“Aye, then why are ye nae in bed, my love?”
“Because, I cannot stand being bound to just one place. You know how I crave freedom, Brother. My body finds comfort nowhere. My mind finds comfort in the forest.”
“Aye, so the forest it is then. At least, let me carry ye. Yer trudging appears torturous at best.”
“No, dear brother. Being carried only smashes me up more.” She placed her hands on her hips and stretched her back. “I wouldn’t be able to breathe at all if you scooped me up in those gorgeous arms of yours.”
“So, I am worthless tae ye?”
“Nay, Brother. Your voice alone gives my heart wings. Do not harbor fears on my account. I rest when I’m weary.”
“Rest? If ye were tae sit upon the ground, there ye’d remain.” He laughed. “I fear yer past the point of getting yerself back up.”
“Your observation is indeed true, good warrior. But there are large stones scattered about I can rest upon.”
“Aye, is that so? Ye now lean hard upon that tree for want of strength. Where’s this stone ye speak of?”
She panted. “A ways on up yet, I’m afraid.”
“Does Varick know how ye fare?”
“Varick is not my keeper, nor my warden. He knows what I tell him.”
“Aye, tiny maiden, an’ that’s what I thought. An’ what is it ye tell him? Dunnae bear false tongue, for I shall know.”
“I would never.” She winked playfully. “At least not to you, Brother.”
“Go on,” he pressed.
“I tell him I come to walk the forest alone, for it’s the only peace I can find.”
“An’?”
“And, nothing. That’s what I tell him. When he even asks,” she added softly.
“Here, let me help ye.” He moved behind her, taking her gently under the arms.
She tensed up immediately. “No, no, no. Don’t touch me. I can do it.”
“Trust me, Lass.”
He whispered those most reassuring words as he took Jenevier under her arms, gently easing her back until her bottom touched the ground. She let out a long, exhausted sigh.
He sat down beside her. “Better, Lass?”
“Yes, Brother, much better. Gratitude, Vittorio.”
“I’m always here for ye, wee Angel, yer just too stubborn tae ask. Tell me. Do ye come here tae be close tae him? Tae be close tae Apollyon?”
“Yes. I know he’s not here. I can’t even find where the portal was anymore. He is forever lost to me. Yet, I come. I tell the trees of my undying love for my absent husband and of all that went on the day before.” She laughed at herself. “I know it’s foolish, yet I come.”
“Ye yet claim him husband?”
“Yes, I yet claim him so.”
“Aye, but his manacle is absent yer hand, sweet sister.”
“No one knows the pain of that truth more than I, Brother. Gratitude for drawing mind back to wretched loss.”
“Aye, for drawing mind back tae reality, dear one.”
“My reality is one I cannot bear to accept, Brother. Let me dwell in my sweet illusion just a bit longer. Let me stroll through my make-believe forest home, talking to my make-believe angelic husband, just like normal people get to do.” She smiled crookedly, cutting her eyes sideways at her Guardian friend. “Don’t destroy this dream of mine, Vittorio, let me linger a moment longer.”
“As ye wish, my love. I told ye once, I’d even take the man’s name as mine own if it meant ye’d let me always be by yer side.”
“I remember well the glorious words you whispered as we laid in the grass of my heavenly cove.” She smiled while she absently rubbed her tummy. “I remember them well.”
“Aye, do I sense a weakening in yer resolute answer? Do my words now take hold within yer heart?”
“Your words took hold within my heart when uttered, dear friend. Yet my answer remains.”
Jenevier laid upon her side, trying to stretch out enough to get some relief from the moving child growing within her.
“Aye, yer answer remains, but do ye wish it were nae so?”
“Every moment of every day,” she whispered.
Jenevier closed her eyes, resting her weary head upon Vittorio’s outstretched arm as he curled up behind her, lightly kissing the back of her shoulder.
“Aye, Lass, say that just once more. Let me hear the sweetest words in all creation one more time.”
“I wish every moment of every day, things were different. I wish there were no obstacles, no other commitments, save our own hearts. I wish we were just a normal couple having our first beautiful child together, Vittorio. He could want for no better father, and I could never want for a husband who could love and accept me more than you do.”
“Aye, thank ye, Lass. Ye’ve nae idea how ye heal me… I cannae even put it intae words, Princess.” He sniffed as a single te
ar fell upon her bared shoulder. He kissed it away.
“Vittorio, loving me will always be the worst thing you can possibly do.”
“Aye, Milady. Can ye teach me how tae unlove?”
“No… I’m not blessed with skill as great as that.”
“Aye, I thought nae. Yet ye advise me on the subject with such ease an’ knowledge.” He lightly tickled her ribs, just barely.
She laughed. “We are pathetic creatures, are we not?”
“Aye, the worst kind, sweet sister.”
“Gratitude, Vittorio,” she whispered.
“Yer welcome, my wee darlin’, but for what?” He chuckled as he played with her curls. “What amazing thing has yer most awesome of warriors done now?”
“You always say and do the exact thing I need, exactly when I need it.
“That’s how ye treat the one ye love. It comes naturally when I’m with ye.”
“Why do I resist you?”
“Aye, now there’s a question for the ages, is it nae?”
“I love you.”
“I know ye do, wee Princess. An’ I love ye more.”
“I would be worse than dead now, if it weren’t for you, Vittorio.”
“Aye, an’ I would’ve drawn my last breath months ago, save for yer healing inheritance,” he whispered.
“And neither one of you would be lounging about on the forest floor if it weren’t for Apollyon.”
“Aye, Brother, ye say it true.” His arms wrapped just a little tighter around her. “Jenevier, my sweet, Prince Varick has finally graced us with his revered presence.”
“Yes, dearest brother, I’ve known of his approach for some time now. Vareen sent you, did she not?” She asked her question without turning toward him.
“She did. How did you know?” Varick answered.
“Aye, Brother, it’s nae secret the lovely maiden resting upon my arm is nae longer yer highest of priorities. It dunnae take a seer tae divine this wee stroll through the forest wasnae yer idea.”