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Authors: Brandon Varnell

Tags: #Humor, #Fiction

A Fox's Family (48 page)

BOOK: A Fox's Family
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Constrict.”


Ikken
Hissatsu. Bōei.”

Before
the inferno of tails could coil around her, Kotohime’s
water-coated blade moved faster than even most yōkai could
follow. Flashes of light from her sword’s reflection appeared,
the number of refractions increasing over time. Soon, Kotohime’s
sword was moving so quickly that the flashing lights had become a
singular, solitary entity, a half-dome that surrounded the four-tails
on all sides, a barrier made from an uncountable number of sword
strikes.

The
fiery tails didn’t stand a chance. They burst into steam the
moment they touched the barrier, which disappeared as the thick cloud
of evaporated water covered the battleground, blocking Ling’s
vision of Kotohime.

Kotohime
tore out of the expanding cloud, the steam splitting apart as she
rushed forward, moving on swift feet.

Ling
backpedaled. Her tails moved forward and around, surging past her
body. They came together, their tips touching. From the tips, a
bright yellow, almost white flame appeared. It flickered for but a
moment, then morphed into a ball about seven inches in diameter.


Fire
Art: Fire Bullets.”

Dozens―no,
hundreds of bullets shot from the small sphere of fire, all of them
traveling towards Kotohime as indecipherably incandescent streaks.
They were all spaced several inches apart, and there were so many of
them that it would be impossible for her to dodge them all.

In
that case…


Ikken
Hissatsu. Senpū
.”

Her
katana spun in a counterclockwise motion in front of her body. The
blade moved so fast that it almost looked like the blades of a
helicopter. From the spinning katana, a tornado of wind shot forth.


Water
Art: Tsukuyomi’s Surging Waterfall.”

The
wind soon merged with a jetstream of water, which burst from
Kotohime’s four tails as if it had been launched from a geyser.
Water and wind combined to form a torrential flood of inconceivably
fast motion. Power of nature given form.

The
water tornado engulfed the fire bullets, snuffing them out quicker
than a candle in a hurricane.

Ling’s
eyes were impossibly wide as the attack struck her with the full
force of a tempest condensed into a small tornado. The attack slammed
into her body… and barreled straight through it as though it
wasn’t even there. Ling’s body flickered once, and then
it was gone.

Instincts
born from years of combat saved Kotohime. She turned, her blade
already raised. A tonfa struck it. Sparks flared like dying souls
lost in the wind. She pushed the offending weapon away, then tilted
her blade down and to the left so the tip pointed towards the ground.
The second tonfa struck moments later and slid off her blade. That
was when her
wakazashi
,
still held in the grip of her tail, struck.

Ling
was knocked off balance as the short sword slammed against her tonfa,
which she’d just barely managed to raise in time to avoid
having her throat slit. Her balance shot, she could do nothing as
Kotohime’s katana swung down.

And
hit nothing.

Like
a ghost wavering in a breeze, Ling’s body disappeared, leaving
only a strange smokey substance behind. The smoke, from which cries
of anguish could be heard and the faces of undying phantoms lost in a
phantasmagoric realm could be seen, surged forward, trapping Kotohime
and wrapping around her.

“W-what
is―gah!”

Kotohime
fell to her knees. Her body felt cold. Chilled. Numb. Like she had
just put one foot into the realm of the dead. Her vision darkened and
she struggled to keep her form cohesive.

In
the same manner that she had disappeared in, Ling reappeared in front
of Kotohime. She looked down at the four-tailed kitsune, dark eyes
filled with a merciless cold.


Spirit
Art: Braying Spirits of the Underworld.”

“G-gu…
this is…”

“This
is one of my most powerful techniques. You feel it, don’t you?
The numbness spreading through you is a sign; your body is shutting
down. First, your muscles will grow cold and begin to atrophy at an
extraordinary rate. Your organs will cease functioning next; first
the minor ones, then the major. Your heart will be the last to stop,
and then your soul will be pulled out of your body and carried on to
the Sanzu river. It is a technique that not even a four-tails can
escape from once trapped.”

“I
see.”

Ling’s
eyes widened. That voice—it came from behind her!

Pain
erupted from her chest, along with a lot of blood, which arced
through the air in an almost graceful manner. Ling looked down to see
a katana protruding through her chest, bright red liquid dripping
from its gleaming surface. She blinked, turned her head…

… and
met a pair of dark eyes smiling at her.

“How…”
Ling hacked up several globs of blood. “How did you…?”

“How
did I escape from your technique?” Kotohime finished for her.
“The best way to avoid getting hit is to not be there when the
attack is coming. I knew from the moment you used that technique with
those fireflies that you are not a pure Fire Kitsune. You are a
hybrid, a combination of fire and spirit.”

“It
would also explain why your abilities exceed those of a regular
three-tails,” Kotohime continued.

“Ha…
ha…” Ling’s breathing had become labored and her
eyes half-lidded. “So you… figured it out… I-I
suppose… I should have expected this… from… the
Blood Princess of the Slina Clan.”

“Indeed,
but do not feel too bad. You did very well for one so young. I was
impressed by your abilities.”

“Heh,
to be praised by you…” A bloody smile made Ling’s
lips twitch. “I suppose… there are worse things to hear…
before I die…” Ling took one last shuddering breath
before her body became limp. She slid off the blade, crumpling to the
ground, where she lay still.

Kotohime
eyed the woman for but a moment. Ling’s ponytail had come
undone and her hair was splayed across the ground. Her eyes were
half-lidded and dull. Blood leaked from between parted lips that
breathed no more.

Kneeling
down, Kotohime placed a hand over Ling’s face, closing her
eyes. “You did well,” she praised. “May you find
peace in eternal slumber.”

She
stood back up.

Looking
off into the distance, where she felt an incredible surge of clashing
youki, Kotohime found her placid smile returning. “Ara, ara. It
seems Kiara is having a lot of fun.”

***

Kiara
grinned as her aura engulfed her. Flames of power licked her body, an
ethereal inferno that surrounded her, encompassed her, yet did not
burn her. Her large, brown and bushy tail wagged behind her, as if to
emphasize the excitement she felt at the fight to come.

“Are
you ready, foxy?”

Shílì’s
grin matched Kiara’s. “I am merely waiting for you to
start.” A slight bow at the waist. “Ladies first, you
understand.”

“Heh,
a gentleman during a battle. What an unusual fox.”

Deciding
to take Shílì up on his invitation, Kiara started the
battle by slamming her left fist into the ground. Tremors rocked the
earth. Large cracks appeared along the surface. From those cracks,
several dozen shards of rubble burst from the ground like a hail of
spears, shooting straight at Shílì.

A
grin crossed his face. Before the fragments could hit him, his tails
moved forward. On the tip of each tail was a small black flame darker
than midnight. They moved with lives of their own, writhing and
turning and twisting.


Void
Art: Fork Bullets.”

A
multitude of small projectiles shaped like forks were fired from the
dark spheres. Each Void fork struck the rubble flying towards him.
The dark flames spread across each makeshift projectile, consuming
then, devouring them until nothing remained.

“So,
that’s Void fire,” Kiara muttered, a shiver crawling up
her spine. Even from where she stood, she could sense the flame’s
hunger; it seemed to possess a sentience of its own, irrespective of
the one who summoned it.

“Is
this the first time you’ve seen the Void?” inquired a
curious Shílì.

“Hn.
So what if it is?”

The
dark grin on Shílì’s face unnerved Kiara. “The
Void is the inevitable end of all things. It is the means as well as
the conclusion. The Void is the absence of concept; it is nothingness
beyond dimension, boundary, or measurement.”

Shílì
looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. Dark
shadows played across his face, preventing Kiara from seeing anything
except his chilling grin that stretched from ear to ear.

When
he looked up, Shílì’s eyes held equal amounts of
reverence and madness.

“No
one truly understands what the Void is… or why it’s so
malevolent. Perhaps it is not the Void itself, but the whispers of
dead gods who are not really dead, of beings ancient and powerful,
descending into madness that transcends the boundaries of time and
concepts. In the end, no one really knows. All we have are theories…
and the whispers.”

Kiara’s
tongue felt thick and swollen as she listened to this man. She didn’t
know why, but the words he spoke disturbed her, filling her mind with
vile images and delusions of suffering.

“Being
one who has never touched the Void, never heard its sirens’
call, you probably won’t understand.” Flames of the
darkest black flared into existence above the tips of Shílì’s
tails. “The Void hungers, Kiara,” he whispered, his
haunted voice bordering on dementia. “It’s only desire is
to consume everything. And we who touch the Void hear the whispers in
our hearts and minds. Every day and every night we’re forced to
listen to them; gods, beings descended into madness, whatever they
are, imploring us, tempting us with whispered words, demanding we
destroy all, that we hasten this world to its final demise. It haunts
us, drives us to madness! We are forever slaves to its will!”

The
flames roared into an inferno. Kiara’s eyes bulged.

“The
Void! Is! Merciless!”

Black
flames rushed her, speeding across the ground, consuming everything
in its path. She could feel its intent, its desire to consume
everything, increase in potency the closer it came.

Her
body blurred. She rushed backwards, moving faster than she ever had
before. The Void followed. Even as she kept track of it, the flames
shifted and morphed to form a giant creature, long and serpentine,
perhaps a dragon or a snake. It surged forward to swallow her whole.
It did indeed appear to have a mind of its own.

In
an attempt to delay the all-consuming flames, Kiara’s fists
smashed into the ground. A large chunk of earth jutted up to block
its path. Black fire splashed against the pillar from all sides. The
flames were slowed, but not stopped. They crawled along the earth
pillar, creeping across its surface like the black tendrils of a
demented god.

Kiara
moved backwards. Her incredible agility and speed allowed her to put
a good deal of distance between herself and the Void fire. She hoped
it would be enough.

“You
should never take your eyes off of your opponent.”

Kiara
jumped to her left just in time to dodge a tail that speared into the
ground. She moved, her body twisting to face the Void Kitsune. Her
fists shot forward. Her aura, the red flames that were the physical
manifestation of her power, shot forward as well, taking the shape of
a spear.

It
struck Shílì’s body, which exploded into dark
tendrils, becoming rapidly expanding tongues of fire. The Void fire
descended upon Kiara faster than she could move out of the way.
Knowing this, Kiara launched her fist into the ground, causing it to
explode just as the Void fire struck.

***

Shílì
watched the explosion of black flames from a distance, entranced as
the sentient fire, full of malice and hunger, greedily consumed
everything around it. When he felt that the flames had enough to eat,
he forcibly dismissed them, grunting just a bit as his mind strained
against the Void’s will. There was nothing left of the area
struck by the malicious flames, just charred ground.

“Ha…”
Shílì looked disappointed. “Is that all she had?
I had expected much more from someone who was proclaimed as one of
the strongest warriors of this time.”

“Then
it’s a good thing I’m not the kind of gal who’s
willing to disappoint.”

Upon
hearing the voice, Shílì turned, only for his left
cheek to be met by a powerful fist.

The
attack struck, the blow clapping more loudly than thunder in the
middle of a storm. Shílì’s face seemed to cave in
where the fist met it, until the power generated from the punch sent
him flying backwards.

He
struck the ground some distance away, plowing into the earth with
undeniable force. Gravel exploded all around him. His body was
propelled forcibly across the ground, dirt and debris spraying
everywhere. He came to a stop several dozen yards away, lying on his
back and looking at the sky.

“Hehehe…
hahahaha… HAHAHAHAHA!”

He
began to laugh, uproariously, joyously, like a child who’d just
been told that Christmas was coming two months after it had ended.
Shílì climbed to his feet, shaking his head and wiping
the blood from his lips, still laughing. There was a grin on his
face, which he directed toward the female inu warrior.

“Excellent!
Truly excellent!” He cried, spreading his arms wide. “Never
have I been hit so hard. You are truly an exemplary member of your
species!”

“Glad
to see you approve.” Kiara slid into another stance. “You’re
pretty strong yourself, and since you’ve proven to be so
capable, how about we take this up a notch?”

BOOK: A Fox's Family
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