Prologue


	Blood gurgled from the child's lips as I squeezed his throat. The man beyond growled yet moved no closer. Shock dwindled in his eyes, giving way to a melding of hatred and fear and anguish.

	He watched, helpless, in horror, as my iron-like grip held fast to his boy's throat. "You bitch, I'll kill you." The murderous glint in his eye held truth to his words. He remained as a statue, the boy swaying in my fist. I waggled the fingers of my free hand to taunt the man.

	"As you killed my children? As you slaughtered my brothers and sisters?" I spoke in a halting and thick accent, though I was doubtless he understood. Flashing before my eyes and his was the slaughter of the Ozan'naaik.

	The Ukee'el was both wondrous and cruel, though my first real taste of that began when I first came upon the genocide twelve days beforehand. At beginning, it had seemed mere happenstance that I had visited my cousin who had taken home among the Ozan'naaik. I remembered once beholding the splendour of my Vien Kaz'Raatha brothers and sisters and children and the Ozaan'naik.

	I remembered the shock and pain upon seeing them only twelve days past as nothing more than carcasses of burnt, unrecognizable flesh. I remembered the cawing of the crows and buzzing of flies and other carrion beasts feeding upon the bloody morsels left behind. The broken bodies of children laid with their guardians, flesh torn and shredded from blades and flame.

	I searched the abode for any remaining life and found nothing. The genocide had been fatally efficient and naught remained but death and the roiling, angry waves of the Ukee'el. The waves of the Ocean filled me, gave me purpose, begging me to pacify and create balance. No Ozan'naaik remained to carry this burden. Only I remained, an outsider.

	The man hesitantly marched forward. He halted as I held his child between us. The boy convulsed in my hand, his dark eyes blank as his life ebbed with each desperate, heavy heartbeat.

	I had hastened from their sea of death in search of balance. Tracking his pack was a simple task. Though I trailed several weeks behind, my single-mindedness closed the gap.

	This particular man was of some importance. His home was large and spacious, adorned with a gate and several guards impeding me from entering. Gazing in determination upon my Vien'Kaz Raatha skin and eyes and hair, the fools still thought to take me in martial combat.

	Five henchmen charged at me with katana and spears drawn from sheathe. I batted each aside with ease, slapping two katanas from their lax grip and unbalancing the remainder. I moved quickly, smashing in the faces of the three remaining armed spearmen with quick strikes. The crunch of bone and skull impacting against my fists resounded as three bodies shuddered to a rolling death.
	The two others were stalwart yet imbecilic all the same; with empty hands they charged to their own end. I grabbed the neck of the closer and collapsed his wind pipe. With a great heave, I lifted his corpse and used his face as a bludgeon into the last man. The sheer force of skull punctured through his chest and left jagged shards of bone in his heart and lungs. Blood streamed from his lips as shallow gasps desperately tried to empty the torn lungs.

	His breaths quieted as I walked into the domain. I tore aside the door and found the gift in the form of the child.
	My retrospection grinded to an end as I watched the man sidle closer still. My jade eyes narrowed in suspicion. I was not fool enough to underestimate a Shozuko and their devious ploys.

	"Speak for your genocide," I commanded. "Tell me how many of my brothers and sisters you murdered. Tell me for what purpose you wanted to end the prosperity of the Ozan'naik. Answer, and your boy will suffer no longer."

	"We did the world a favour, getting rid of the vermin," He spat, words biting as horseflies sting the flesh. "The disgusting, monstrous half-breeds were a plague. You deserve to rot in Hell with them."
	The child sobbed gently as his final moments were upon him. I took pity on the boy as I brought both hands around his supple chin and twisted. I laid the body gently to the floor. The boy deserved a painless death.

	The father screamed, savage as he charged forward. Torrents of flame lanced up his arms in a wild display of power and energy. He swung his arms wild, the flames roaring as they whipped to and fro across my naked flesh.

	I allowed the searing heat to touch me, consume me. Pain was inevitable. I screamed as he screamed and our chorus rang together in counterpoint. Anger swirling within me released a font of Vra Hocca. I was given the strength to withstand the torture in my fierce rage powers. I persevered and marched into the blaze. My skin brightened from gentle pink to neon and seared into red, crackling in the intense heat.

	Standing before him, I swatted aside his arms and snatched his head between my powerful grasp. Compressed, his screech held a note of intensity, before his head burst as a fruit exploding. Pink ichor of blood and brains splattered.

	His headless form crumpled.

	I stood, the silence stark against the tumultous heartbeat. Pain ached through me, chilling and burning against my severely burnt skin. Emotions ebbed and I grew exhausted.

	Wearily, I ambled out of the abode, the wooden structure already glowing with the consumation of the voracious fire. My body begged for rest; yet, I knew in good conscious, the only option was to march on. The Ukee'el would not be appeased by his mere death. I marched on in search of balance.

	It was in this exact moment, a child was born in the distance.

Chapter 1: Birth of a Child


	Droves of rain pounded against the earth -- like nails, piercing through her tattered cloak and soaking the thin cloth. Numb and wearied legs wavered against the torrential downpour, struggling with each step against the vicious backlash of temptestuous winds. Frail-looking -- a tiny thrush amidst the seeping storms.

	Though evening had barely descended, thick darkness burgeoned underneath the swollen nebula, patterned in angry slashes of white as lightning sought to rend the earth with its mighty strikes. With each flash, the resounding clap of thunder shattered upon her heart. Echoes of thunder seeped into the earth, leaving only the harsh drumbeat of rain pounding against the foliage and earth in haphazard cacophony.

	Soft light twinkled between the foliage, brighter still as she approached a bend in the road. Her pace quickened, lopsided jogging carrying her past the winding forest trail and into a wide clearing. A squat building sat atop a small rise before a gently undulating hill beyond it. Her eyes remained glued to its entrance and the steam wafting from closed wooden shutters, clicking furiously alongside the harsh symphony.

	The young woman breathed a sigh of relief as she slid the door open and slipped inside. The resounding deluge faded into the background as waves of laughter and merriment mixed into deafening revelry.

	Aromas of mouth-watering baked fish, rise, and an unfamiliar powerful odour of spices nearly brought her to her knees. She licked her lips, stomach growling in protest yet the woman ignored this and instead wandered through the tables.
	Cuisine and conversation kept most patrons from looking at her; only a few noticed, Curiosity registering on their face as they recognised an adolescent whom had yet to blossom into adulthood. Interest faded quickly as they determined her another traveller; the common room was bursting with local villagers, merchants and foreigners alike who thought to wait out  the storm raging beyond the walls.

	Zirrah pulled her cloak aside and rested on a pale cushion residing ahead the crackling heat of the fireplace. The prim hostess and the servants shot a disdainful glare in her direction. She elected to ignore this.

	Scraps of conversation trickled from the vague buzz; locals were mesmerised in the news but her attention ebbed, the information staled by several weeks to any travelling from the west.

	"Demon..." The word resounded in a chilling wave before the voice flowed back into the sea of conversation.

	She jolted upright. Lucid blue eyes attentive and scanning the crowd before locating the source. A tight-knit group of samurai wrapped in formal military cloaks, green embroidered with a golden clan symbol, encircled two peasants. Faces etched with grim lines contrasted against the backdrop.

	Zirrah moved closer to the circle until the hushed conversation rang clear.

	"... A beast like no other,"  one in the centre spoke. "The monster is incredible and of great evil. He has taken five men and twelve others. "An unsettling chill brought a deep silence upon the surrounding samurai. Zirrah had covered the distance and edged behind one of the men.

	"He is made of shadows. Only his red eyes can be seen. Disappears like fog into the night. When morning comes, he returns to the netherworld."

	Laughter from beyond seemed to crash like waves upon a quiet coastal mountain; silence filled the circle.

	"Impossible."

	Eight eyes shot up in surprise and indignation, some quickly molding to anger. She entered, kneeling among the samurai. Disdain plain on their faces, they stared at the young girl, barely an adolescent. The disgusting affair of her weathered and travel-stained clothing heightened their contempt.

	"Filthy child, keep out of this," one growled. "Leave us." He pointed away.

	"Vien Kaz'Raatha of his kind would never vanish into the night. They live like you, they sleep like you, they die like you," She continued, ignoring the man entirely.

	No one interrupted her a second time. That mere term set them on edge by her unforeseen knowledge.

	"He knows shadows, and he knows how to use them. But I know how to stop him."

	"Who are you?" The first samurai asked, only fumbling slightly.

	"Shinata," Zirrah lied. "My father was Nakanuyu, a demon hunter. He was a skillful man, before being lost protecting a village from a pack of Gren'yakzgh."

	Another samurai cut in. "I have not heard of Nakanuyu before. Was his skills so great?"

	Zirrah let a wide smile stretch her face. "My skills are what should concern you. I hunted seven with him, and five alone, for twelve."

	The samurai had grown eager, grim satisfaction passed between them. The peasant, however, kept a grim visage as he spoke: "We have seen this thing. He is a monster that will need someone strong. We will wait for the rains to stop and go east to Kaito."
	"There's no time," Zirrah insisted. "By then, at least twice as many will be dead. I can stop him now. I need to leave now, tonight. He will definitely try to take me if I am alone and I will stop him and bring you his claws."

	The peasants seemed uncomfortable but stopped protesting. The lead samurai nodded slow agreement and after a long moment of silence, spoke. "We will follow you and rescue you?"

	She shook her head. "I can't share my secret methods for hunting demons." A grim smile cracked her face. "I have a special way to take off the claws myself."

	The silence that ensued seemed to pound like the rain outside, crashing as the sea breaks upon the stone cliffs.

	Zirrah departed shortly after, never to return to this particular tavern in her lifetime.

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	The storm had long reared its child and began to subside, though it  still carried a steady shiver of cold droplets. The chilling night thickened the earth with a carpet of fog as Zirrah settled into a hillock in the depths of a sprawling copse.
	Blue eyes stared listless into crackling flames. The orange light cast shadows across her skin while outstretched fingers warmed near the hot glow. Her face stung from the heat and her nose burned as acrid smoke of wet wood filled her lungs.

	Tingles crept up her spine. Cold air slid along the nape of her neck, setting her tense and on edge. She looked about warily, swinging her her head to and fro as dark thoughts lodged in the edges of her mind. Only darkness greeted her searching eyes yet her feelings would not be dissuaded.

	Her hands pushed against the muddy earth as she clambered up. Stumbling, legs stiff from dampness, she lurched forward before managing to catch herself in one knee. Sinking into the mud, the girl drew herself to stand with some effort. Zirrah's body trembled with anticipation.

	The flickering shadows cast by the fire seemed to dance gleefully among the trees. Heart pounding her chest and blood crashed as a sea wave in her ears in deafening rushes. The pattering of rain seemed a whisper as it slapped against the moist earth. A babbling brook echoed from its distance.

	A crack to the side resounded. Zirrah spun about, reflexes wired with adrenaline. Darkness awaited her. From the boundaries of the fiery glow the shadows contorted and she caught a glimpse of a bodily figure. Zirrah staggered backward as her eyes darted around frantically. Her back met against a tree trunk. The sound of her blood pumping shook alongside the sound of shallow breathing.

	Shadows swept about and transformed beside her. She twisted her head to her left but caught only a glimpse of a grey blur. She swivelled her head back, a moment too slow.

	"Well hello, little girl," a cold voice sneered close to her right ear.

	White-hot pain lanced through her side as needles dug into her abdomen. Her hand instinctively clutched at her wound as they pulled out. The hot warmth and stickiness of blood coated her fingers. She snapped her head to look upon her assailant, only to watch as the figure obscured into darkness. Vomit curled at the edge of her gullet as blood oozed down her tattered cloak.
	Zirrah slumped against the stolid wood. Shadows lengthened over her as the smouldering fire was blocked by a dark figure. Sharp grey teeth locked into a taunting smile as she watched the beast stalk over from the flames. His black skin became an abyss among the frantic light, seeming to absorb it and darken her eyesight.

	His face closed in. Crimson eyes reflected and shimmered with macabre desire. The vibrant orbs held ferocity and cold intent, belying his satisfied grin. Hot electricity pulsed through her nerves as her eyes locked into his intense gaze.

	He spoke with excited glee that bordered on panic. "I'm glad you could join me on this fine evening. You are an unexpected gift. The storm had settled me into a poor mood. I was so dreadfully bored, waiting for a playmate to happen upon the road that I had given up hope. Yet what luck I have, for you were here in the depths of my home, waiting. A true present for me.

	"Did you become lost? Perhaps you hoped to wait out the frightening storm? You need not worry. The storm has passed; oh yes. You will be safe, with me." He threw his head back and cackled ferociously. His shrill voice cut short abprutly and he stared at her with intense eyes.

	Jolts of pain rushed through her and a groan escaped her lips, unbidden. Cruel eyes glittered as he saw the wealth of stained blood on her cloak shimmering like onyx from the orange glare.

	Her face flushed with heat as agony seeped into her, trying to stumble away from his hot eyes that seared at her. Her body fumbled, uncontrollable, stumbling hard onto the earth. Snarling, she struggled to rise yet managed only a pathetic flail. Waves of pain and heat coursed through her nerves and a cold numbing sensation chilled her skin. Cold understanding splashed into her mind.
	The Vien Gaanm's smile waxed as he revelled in her sheer look of horror and fear stamped plain on her face.

"You deserved a gift as well, for joining me this evening." He flexed the fingers on his right arm. A sheen of metallic purple glinted in the last embers of firelight along the tips of his vicious large claws.

	"A gift to assure me you will continue to grace me with your fine company, little lady. I couldn't bear the thought of you departing too soon. I am far too generous, I know."

	He admired his deadly hand and rambled on, spreading each word with excruciating care. "Can you feel it in your veins? Can you feel it pumping alongside your blood? Your heart must feel it, weighing it down, forcing it to pump ever harder to push your lifeblood through you. Are you cold? You must feel so utterly frozen. Perhaps I should bring you closer to the flames? You might like the touch of its warmth. I have found ladies such as you do so scream in pleasure for it."

	He stalked closer to her and chuckled, voice raw with joy. "Oh, how I've missed you joining me for games. Men have their uses, but nothing compares to you, little ladies. The men may scream and beg, but only you know how to truly cry in the joys of my company. We have so many games to play, the night is so young. Shall we begin?"

	He crouched over which brought his face within inches of hers. His putrid breath smelled of rotting flesh. His black skin  seemed hyper-realistic; she saw the cracked and worn skin taught over his harsh jaw and cheeks, contrasted against the smooth and supple look of his elongated fingers. Vibrant eyes glowed with a lustful heat.

	His rough nails scraped along her thigh as a round of mocking laughter, sharper and more painful than the wounds, erupted from his chest. Her mouth moved, soundless as her insides froze from the insidious toxins. Zirrah chose to grit her teeth instead and glare as if death could come from a mere look.

	"Why do you not cry your tears of joy?" His tone had become like ice. "Play the game, girl. You would not want to disappoint me."

	Anger boiled over through him as she defied him, refusing to break down and cry. Blindingly fast, his hand slapped her across the face. Once, twice, three times. Blood dripped out from streaks along her cheek. Her skin burned as red droplets slipped down her pale skin. Yet, she did not sob; the only remnant left in its wake was his heaving breath.

	The Vien Gaanm's face contorted into pure rage. He gnashed his teeth together and spat upon the girl. "You vile, wretched girl. Have you no manners?"

	Another slap emphasized his words. The ringing sound was met with a splash of blood splattering the earth. Pain screamed in her side as he smashed his foot into her, sending her sprawling. Her tiny form splashed in the mud.

	"You, must, respect, your, superiors ..." Each pause punctuated by savage kicks. On the fifth strike Zirrah began to sob, an unbidden response to the terrible onslaught.

	"Oh, what joy, little lady," His terrible smile returned in full, watching tears stream down dirt-stained cheeks. "You learn courtesy quickly."

	Crouching over his victim, he swung his claws in a slow yet deliberate strike. Crimson eyes shone with a hungry bloodlust. Crimson eyes widened in surprise, his strike sweeping through air.

	Zirrah had scrambled to her knees and in one sudden motion lodged a knife into his chest. The earth-shattering roar of the beast split the night with pain and confusion then fury. She yanked the blade out and tore away, unfurling a scroll from within the folds of her jacket and smearing his blood across black ink.

	His scream brimmed with inhuman ferocity. The black claws danced and Zirrah jumped aside, throwing herself to the earth, rolling and tumbling away. Towards the remains of the fire, she landed. The remaining spittle of embers glowed in the pit the charred wood. She thrusted the scroll to the bottom among the heat. The fire roared to life, leaping to touch the canopy in a brilliant display of violet and white flames as it consumed the scroll.

	"By rights of blood and contract, you are Bound in life and in death to me!" She shouted the words in the beautiful, harsh tongue of Vohanya.

	The fire roared impossibly high at her exclamation, stealing sight as it flashed in vivid tones of sunset red and faded into a deep violet. The flames fell into cold grey ashes. Darkness surrounded once more and the sunspots flared in her eyes, blinding the young woman.

	Visible only were the pinpricks of burning red hatred that bored into her own.

His scream was primal, escaping from the monster's lips. Pure rage emanated from his pores, from his eyes, from his very soul.
	"You foolish, vile Shozuko," he snarled. "I will flay your throat open throat out, I will rip our intestines out and strangle you with them. I will show you your own heart beating outside of your chest while you watch. I will flay your skin from your body." Spittle ran down his chin as the words spilled out in a mad torrent. He leaped at her with claws outstretched, face glowing with a cold promise of suffering.

	His claws raised high, he vanished, melding into the darkness. He returned at the edge of her vision beside her and slawshed wildly. The ebony spikes raked at her face yet stopped a hairsbreadth away. The tips sliced the edge of her long black tresses.
	The wordless scream tearing from his lips rang of frustration. He drew his hand back and cut at her again. Claws trembled, out of reach of puncturing her delicate, undefended skin.

	"What -- you monstrosity, what did you do to me?" He shrieked, his composure detoriated into hysterics. Spittle drooled from the corners of her lips. His arms swung in a torrent of wild slashes and strikes ending with a vanishing to strike her vulnerable neck from behind.

	All strikes halted before breaching her. A blood-curdling scream of frenzied frustration echoed into the depths of the woods. Exhaustion and confusion overwhelmed him and shattered him. He sank to his knees before her, his posturing disappated. What remained was a whimpering, leashed dog, sprawled before his master.

	His eyes lifted to hers. Pure hatred poured out from every fibre of his soul and welled up in the crimson orbs. The weight of realisation crushed down upon him. The world spun into a whirlwind of chaos within his mind and being. Zirrah could not help but feel pleasure watching the anguish scrawling across his face.

	"You were wrong to call me Shozuko," She spoke, voice laden with weariness and pride at once. "I'm Ozan'naaik."

	Understanding flashed in his eyes. Cold dread welled within him. He was Bound. A soft growl escaped his lips. His eyes slipped and fell to the springy grass of the forest floor. The beast became still, as a statue against the backdrop of the swaying of branches and leaves swaying gently in the nighttime breeze.