Chapter Text
The witch panted as she crawled over the cold tiles of that dark room. Weakened by her injuries and unable to resist the exhaustion, she collapsed on the floor. But before she could begin to recover, a shadow clutched her broken ankle and she yelped. Her eyes filled with tears as it started to pull her back, again.
She thought she had been so clever, when she secretly came to this city in the middle of the desert, with the objective of getting all the information she could to complete her investigations. But then, the spell hiding her soul glitched and failed. What happened next was a blur, her enemy finding her, trapping her in his shadows, then confusion, then pain and screams…
Trembling, the witch turned her face back to look at him. In the dark, she could barely distinguish his shape, cloaked in black, a contrast with the white mask. He was simply standing there.
Why hadn’t he killed her, yet?
It was then that she noticed the small figure, watching her with curiosity, from behind her enemy's tall frame. The woman’s eyes were still adjusting to the penumbra, but soon, she could distinguish it was a child, of pale skin and glowing yellow eyes. The kid abruptly understood she had discovered him, and hid behind the dark robes.
He could not believe it. A witch had walked into his city, right inside his very soul, somehow managing to hide completely her spirit. Unlike the spell known as soul protect, which would make her soul appear human, the witch had made her spirit practically invisible. Her magic was advanced, but not perfect, and her spell suddenly broke, immediately revealing her presence and location. If the magic had not failed, he would have never known she had visited his city. In another time, such possibility would have made him feel so fearful and worried; but now, it only made him angry. Furious in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. She had dared to come here, threatening the only people in the world that he could still protect, without having to send someone else.
At first, he didn't withheld his rage against the intruder. Right when he was about to end her, he paused and considered the unique opportunity this could represent. There would be no better chance to watch closely how his little son confronted an enemy, to observe how he faced fear, while also being there to help and support him. The kid was still so small, only six years old, but soon, his father would have to send him to explore the world outside of the limits of his city, where he would be facing new risks, far from the protection of his father’s powerful soul.
This would be a good and safe first step.
He had already taught his son so much. The kid had learned about gently putting souls to rest, giving company and comfort to many of their town, their passing away in peace. But there would be nothing like that now. Tonight, he would learn another side to his future responsibilities, the unforgiving hunt and elimination of the corrupted souls, the kishin, the witches...
"Remember what I said?" the father spoke, "about the purple souls?"
"I remember," the child answered, observing the witch, but he didn't move from his spot.
"Can you see it? The desire for chaos, the craving for destruction?"
The little one nodded. "I've seen that, in the blue souls, too."
"It's not the same."
"Why not?" the kid asked, curious.
"The blue souls, they can always chose their path," his father explained. "But these ones cannot, they are bound to chaos and destruction, it’s the sway of their magic. It’s all they can ever be. You'll have to stop them, as soon as you find one, before they can bring more harm. Do you understand?"
"Stop them," the child repeated. He looked back at the trembling shape of the witch. "Reap them?"
A skeletal hand reached for the boy's face, and the kid looked at his father again, the skull mask and shifting shadows, a sight terrifying for anyone else, but that was the most adored, reassuring thing in the little kid's world.
"We must," the father spoke. "If we let them live, the pain they’ll cause will be on us."
The little one remained quiet as he swallowed. His father could see the inner turmoil of uncertainty and doubt within his soul. This time, the father would not deny nor dismiss the fear, his child would learn how to deal with it. He could not allow himself to make the same mistakes he had made so long ago.
"I understand this scares you," the father said softly, caressing the child's hair tenderly, as the little one closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He could see straight into his son's spirit, the soul that had been born from a fragment of his own, from his determination to bring order, his refusal to fail again and his sense of duty. "You can do it. Remember, it's they who should be afraid of you."
She heard them talk, streams of words she would not be able to pronounce, much less understand. The kid's voice was faint and shaky, while the tone that answered was strong and reverberant. But she could perceive there was an unexpected quality to the deeper voice. Something soft and caring.
Reassuring. Loving...
She felt a shiver, as she realized the child was observing with interest her weak moves. Adrenaline rushed through her arteries as a terrifying idea struck her, the thought of wild predators taking wounded prey to their nests. So their young could learn how to kill.
Her eyes widened in dread when the child abruptly abandoned his hiding place and ran towards her, quickly closing the distance between them. A tiny hand extended, almost touching her, and a mad scream tore her throat while terror gave her the strength to push the boy away from her.
The child stumbled backwards with a surprised whimper, but his shadows caught his fall and helped him up. The boy recovered his balance and immediately retreated some steps, watching the witch warily. He turned his face towards the large, masked figure behind him, and spoke some nervous words in their strange tongue. She heard again the reverberant voice, the father's answer made the boy smile. The witch guessed that whatever he said, it wasn't good for her.
Before she could realize what was happening, the kid attacked again. He pounced on her, his small hand hitting like lightning, making its way inside and closing around her soul. The child pulled, and she screamed.