Pieces of You by gotnophobia

Once Upon a Moonless Night

He didn't know how he winded here.

The trees had ceased its humming and the crickets and hoots no longer sounded. An unnatural silence had clothed over the forest and the eyes of the preys kept watch on their perch. The living inhabitants knew an intrusion and if it was an approaching youkai, and decided to keep still. The leaves rustled under his shaky steps. There were the crunching sounds each time his foot treaded on the murky terrain. He was aware of the heaving sounds too, and realized it originated from his throat. His chest was rising up and down rapidly, taking the lucid air with keen greed. Breathing proved to inquire a great amount of effort. He threw his head back for more air and opened his heavy laden eyes. Two hazy golden irises gazed unseeingly to the sky. The moonless night was too dark for a human's eyes to see. The stars were hidden by the spreading mass of clouds. The creatures of the forest knew that rain was only a breath away.

The lone figure stood sluggish in the open nature, his long silver tresses was a stark contrast to the dark. There were blood streaks on the mane and half of his face was covered with it. A silver crescent moon bore on his forehead and two maroon stripes curved on each cheek were the only adornment on his visage. Armor sat atop his shoulder and the ivory pelt was ruined by the red fluid that profusely poured out from a wound on his middle. His garments were tattered. The white and blue fabrics now brown with mud and blood. There was a long slice from the thigh to the calf on his hakama and revealed a bloodied leg. A haggard sword hung to his waist and another one was barely clutched on his hand, supporting him as a walking rod. His battered appearance was a gory sight to see.

A breeze wafted and soothed his burning skin. There was a searing pain on his head, throbbing, pulsing, and causing his sight to distort each time he thrived to move. He couldn't think, didn't have the energy to utter a sound. His body felt laden. There was too heavy a burden on his sore shoulder and it pulsated where the massive armor sat. He removed the protective covering with a heroic endeavor and flung the pelt on his waist to the ground. The accomplishment demanded a great amount of inhalation afterwards. Move, just move. The wounded youkai took a step, another step, and another one, and the instrument of death in his hand slipped unwittingly. His foot tripped over a vine and the wheezing sound increased as the breath was knocked out from his chest. There was darkness for a moment or two until a now familiar throbbing entered inevitable to his head. He amounted to stand and grasped the tree with his clutch. It was a huge tree, a very huge tree, the largest one in the forest. Goshibonku. It stood tall and unwound in the approaching storm. A lightning bolt glowered in the sky and with it followed a roar of thunder. Every creature in that forest hid for shelter from the wrath of nature except for the injured youkai. He tiredly stared ahead with his jagged vision. The lightning glared again, and he could barely make out a silhouette. He blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the hallucination, but as he looked once again, surely there was something up ahead. He moved, once again picking up the fallen sword, focusing on that profile. Another lightning and he could finally imply a makeshift well on the middle of the clearing.

Drops of water hit his nose, his pointed-end ears, his arms, his legs, his wounds. They came slowly then multiplied by the time he had reached the well. It was now pouring generously and everywhere hurt where his wounds exposed. It stung and burned. A lonely moan escaped from his curled lips. Every inch of his skin was burning with a mind torturing flame. Rain and blood mixed on the spot he stood. His claws raked the rim of the well with every wave of injustice pain. He leaned on the edge of the well trying to seek comfort from the slightest aid. Why was he hurt? Where was he? What had he done? Why won't this throbbing cease? He remembered waking up to a blood-spattered clearing. His heart was shocked to beat in vigorous speed when abrupt consciousness swept over him. His lungs were burning and he sucked in as much air his organ was deprived of. Instantly he was aware of the pain and it was everywhere. There had been a throbbing to his side and realized it came from a sword hung on his waist. It pulsed and pulsed until finally it stopped. Was it alive? Why was it throbbing? He couldn't decide the answer until currently he was standing near this tatty well with a minuscule of strength left.

Another thunder roared and his ears exploded with white pain. The youkai fell over the edge of the well and welcomed the sensation. The air squeezed against him as he answered the call of gravity and ancient magic. He was falling and falling, engulfed with bluish light. Pigments of colors danced in his eyes as a flood of pain washed over him. It felt like floating, and wished he really was. Maybe then the burning would end. He saw a blue and silver light breach on the depth of the well and a wandering thought crossed in his weakened mind.

Who am I?

And darkness reigned again.