Cooled Passions Chapter 77: The Burden of Choice

Cooled Passions Chapter 77: The Burden of Choice The Yokai of Japan were many things, but ungrateful was not one of them. Ever since I save

Cooled Passions Chapter 77: The Burden of Choice The Yokai of Japan were many things, but ungrateful was not one of them. Ever since I save

Cooled Passions Chapter 77: The Burden of Choice

The Yokai of Japan were many things, but ungrateful was not one of them. Ever since I saved their princess, they greeted me with a warmness that was rather surprising due to how utterly absent it had been up until that point. They had never been outright rude since I signed the trade agreement, but I was treated coldly.

Politely, but still someone that had to be dealt with as soon as possible. When I roamed the streets of Midnight Kyoto, I received bows and deferential treatment from my guides. From the rest, they crossed the street to avoid me, the bustling life of the town disappearing the more we walked as the Yokai went out of their way to prevent themselves from having to see me.

When Kunou was attacked however, that had changed completely. I would have expected fear, considering that Ranni pulled the Moon to rest over Japan, demonstrating how insanely powerful she was, but no. Whatever Yasaka had spread to the rest apparently painted me and my Family in an incredibly positive light.

When I walked the streets now, it was to warm greetings and friendly offers. When I had Shiro with, she was showered with sweets, if I was with Kasane it was instead offers of tailored outfits. Similarly, all of my Peerage members were treated very well by the Yokai, store owners giving wide smiles and offers of samples of their wares. Several of the more martially inclined species even approached me for a retelling of the battle or to merely shake my hand and thank me for taking care of the attackers so thoroughly.

The difference between then and now was stark. For the first time, the denizens of the Mystical side of Kyoto were not greeting me with polite disdain or warm enthusiasm. No, I was currently receiving stares of trepidation, fear and uncertainty. The crowds parted around me, my steps moving through the Yokai as they stared at me, backing away and murmuring among themselves.

I knew the reason of course, the main culprit being the two protrusions of bone that even now stubbornly jutted from my brow. I had naively thought that I could hide my new appendages in a similar manner to my wings, but apparently whatever it was in Lucifer’s blood that was responsible did not come with the same instinctual instruction manual.

I was already in danger of being late for my meeting with Yasaka, who had requested that I approach publicly and formally for the meeting that had been arranged. I did not know who it would be with, but with the Shinto reawakening it stood to reason that the Gods of Japan were starting to take interest in the dealings of other Factions within their borders.

So, stuck with my Luciferian features on full display, I had a decision to make. I could do one of three things: Teleport to the Palace directly and risk offending Yasaka’s guests, reschedule the meeting entirely, or what I had eventually decided upon.

Hence, me walking down the paved street with fully visible Horns, multiple pairs of wings and a waving tail.

The reasoning was simple. I could already tell that my Demonic Power had fundamentally changed, becoming denser, stronger, more than it was. A process I could feel was being accelerated from the sword sheathed within my soul. Any Devil I met could instantly tell the difference, meaning that until I figured out a way of hiding my change and veiling my power, it was likely that any who had personal experience with Lucifer could instantly spot the similarities.

Even if they couldn’t, some deep, fundamental part of me recoiled against the idea of hiding this change. What would even be the point? Apparently the Satans already knew, as did Heaven. It was only a matter of time until the secret was revealed, either on accident or deliberately. Luckily the timing of Runeas’ visit gave me an opportunity to reveal it in a rather unique fashion.

The first to officially find out, the first that I deliberately informed, were not the Satans. Not Zekram, Rizevim or any other Devil. Not even Heaven or the Fallen were aware that I had awoken, if the Fallen were aware of the situation at all. No, instead, I went to the Yokai, my allies.

It was a large display of trust, demonstrating just how highly I thought of my relationship with them. More importantly, it would likely put whatever Shinto Kami that had requested this meeting in a much more agreeable mood. This was giving them a large amount of face, demonstrating that I placed a higher value on their opinion than those of my own race’s leadership.

It didn’t matter whether that was the truth or not, that was the perception.

So, rather than risk losing control of the narrative around my heritage to someone else, I decided to burn the secret in a very public fashion and in a way that would be beneficial to me, at least in the short term.

Of course, this only mattered if the Kami was one who cared for such things. If it was Susanoo, then this would likely end in a confrontation either way. Doubly so if it was Tsukiyomi, considering how Ranni upstaged him.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a tugging sensation that almost made me miss a step and stumble. Turning, I beheld a wide eyed Tengu, who was just pulling his hand back from where it had touched my tail. Before I could speak, a feathered woman came sprinting out of the nearby store front, shouting.

“Sora! I apologise Sagan-dono, I have no clue what he was thinking…” She trailed off, fidgeting slightly as her eyes locked onto my form, the entire street holding its breath as they watched the scene.

Far from being offended, I was almost glad. This was exactly what I needed to break the spell my transformation had woven around me. Holding up a hand to reassure the mother, I knelt down, staring seriously at the young Tengu.

“Sora, was it?” The kid nodded, trying to hide behind his mother’s legs but stopped by her hand, “Have you seen any of the Kitsune around here?”

The young Tengu mumbled, but the older shook his shoulder, causing him to speak clearly, “Yes…”

“Would you try to touch their tails?” He shook his head, staring down at the ground, “That’s right. For the same reason, you shouldn’t touch the tails of anyone else, okay? They might get upset.”

“I’m truly sorry Lord Sagan, if there is any way that I could make up for this offence-” Her words were cut off by my own.

“There is no need, no harm was done. I’m sure young Sora here will not do something like that again.” I smiled at her, causing her to nod rapidly.

“Yes. Yes! I will make sure of it, please be certain of that!” Her voice was attempting to be firm, but trembled nonetheless.

“I have no doubt. As for you young man, take care not to worry your mother so much in the future, alright?” That got a sullen nod, making me have to hide a grin.

The boy is in for an almighty lecture, I would bet.

Resuming with my walk, taking care to watch the position of my tail, I noticed a change come over the Yokai that watched the scene and spread from there. Acting in the way I did and not taking offence to the child seemed to have defused some of the tension, not all the way but enough that some familiar faces nodded my way in greeting.

Walking with purpose, I returned the nods, not at all bothered by the attitude still persisting. I had already expected it to last until Yasaka was able to make an official statement. All I had done was blunt the edge, ensuring that no one would attempt anything ill-advised as I made my way to the Palace.

Time to see just who has called for my presence here.

---XXX---

Melina sighed, the first sound she had made ever since she entered the room. She had been called by her ‘master’ to discuss a matter of grave import. Or so Ranni had said.

Honestly, she was grateful that the other woman had been very sparing in yanking the leash that connected to her collar. She had been expecting much, much worse treatment from the Goddess, as the Dark Moon held her in very poor esteem. She had figured out the reason why she had not been treated as badly as she expected, of course. As always when it came to the Lunar Goddess, the reason was Damocles.

She was worried that if she mistreated Melina, then Damocles would view her unfavourably. It was a fair assumption, as her conversations with the man showed that he was as infuriatingly caring as he was in the Lands Between. Observing him, she could sometimes feel as if she was still with Damocles, the Tarnished and not Damocles, the Devil Lord.

She didn’t begrudge the Goddess this, to be clear. She, more than anyone, knew how divinity weighed on one. It took an extraordinary will to retain even a semblance of humanity after attaining such heights, either that or an anchor. Miquella had Melenia, she had her children and Ranni had Damocles. Something to remind you of where you came from, to give you reason to act.

Still, Ranni’s reluctance to pull her tether did not mean that it didn’t exist. As proven by this instance, an insistent pull that forced her into an audience with the Goddess that she was the Herald of. If there was one thing that she could complain about, aside from her forced servitude, it was her leash holder’s love for theatrics and power games.

Hence, why neither had spoken since she had answered the summons, the Goddess forcing her to make the first move. She was tempted to simply main silent, but unfortunately she had prior commitments, meaning that she had to yield this time.

“What is it you called me here for, Ranni?” She asked, causing the Goddess to place the tips of her upper hands together, fixing her with a stare above them.

“The Sagan Peerage is going to War, as you well know.” She spoke ,voice carrying through the room, “As mine Herald, I wish to ascertain thy place in the conflict.”

“I presume that I would go with them, to ensure your Consort’s safety.” She responded, wondering what the point of this charade was.

“You misunderstand, Ghost. The Peerage will enter the conflict and only the Peerage, as per the agreement with the Angel. Should thou wish to participate, you need to first join.” The Goddess explained, her expression not changing, “This is not something that I can order thee to do. It is something that thou must decide for thyself.”

The pieces. The tethers that bound Damocles to his Peerage and them to him. Melina could feel their presence, through her own connection to his soul. Such a thing… it disquieted her, although she could not adequately explain why.

She did not know how to feel about the whole situation, so instead she deflected, “I am surprised you are abiding by that agreement and not ordering me to join regardless, or even coming yourself.”

Indeed, the Dark Moon would be sitting Ragnarok out, by her own decision.

“Damocles is unable to sustain mine Order and it’s effect upon him. Should I engage in divine conflict, the barriers keeping my true self from this world will shatter. Even were that not the case, I would not participate directly regardless.” Ranni spoke, causing Melina to scoff at that, making Ranni raise an eyebrow, “Thou may disbelieve me, but my words are true. Listen well, Melina, that which is given without effort is undeserved. Such victory brings with it a bitter, resentful taste, especially to men. Damocles should have the pleasure of achieving triumph through his own efforts, like I was able to.”

“Such considerations disinterest me.” Melina spoke, her gloam eye peering at the divinity in front of her, “I can recognise a veiled order when I hear it, Ranni. Should you wish for me to accept yet another collar, I would have it come directly from your mouth.”

“I will do thee no such kindness.” Ranni retorted, voice turning icy, “Relieving thee of the burden of choice, deciding for thee in a way that absolves thee of consequence… tis more than thou deserve. As is thy wont, you seek another to take up the responsibility that should be thine. Thou have given up on life, Melina, thus are unwilling to move under your own will. You died, became a puppet and were content. In truth, I despise you.”

She was surprised by the venom that Ranni filled her words with, “So you wish for me to volunteer directly? Couching it in flowery language makes your intent no less clear, Ranni.”

“Again, you deny advice that is given in earnest.” The witch sighed, before speaking again, “Consider this, ghost, stubbornly refusing to accept reality. Damocles has of thee no expectations. He does not wish to pressure you in any way. Should thou wish, we could see him off to war with no issue, no offers of accompanying him. Thou could continue in the manner with which you have become content. Neither he nor I would begrudge you the decision.”

Melina doubted the last bit, but one thing Ranni was trustworthy when it came to her word. She was speaking of taking no action, no her personal feeling on such an outcome.

The goddess finished, “However, should you do so and he falls in battle, or one of his family does, in such a way that thee could have prevented… Could thou continue to be content with thy stagnation? Could thou shrug it off? Death is no stranger to either of us, true, but would allowing such a thing come to pass sit well with thee?”

“Your feelings on the matter are clear Ranni.” Melina spoke, the Goddess’ words stirring a swirl of emotions in her that she stubbornly refused to address in the presence of the one in front of her.

“Good. It is my hope that thine own will soon gain that clarity.” Ranni’s head tilted, considering, before she added with finality, “You have been granted a great gift, from a certain point of view. A new chance at life, a way to rebuild that which was torn from you, even better than it was before. However, thou cannot do so without first releasing the stubborn grip you hold on death. This is not something that others can do for you.”

“Decide, Melina: Live, or stay dead.” With her final piece said, the Goddess of the Dark Moon faded away in a swirl of mist.

Leaving behind her conflicted Herald.

---XXX---

“Lady Yasaka, Lord Sagan is here.” The guard announced, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

They were on high alert ever since seeing me, having asked me to prove my identity before allowing me entry and sending a messenger forward while guiding me to the owner of the Palace. I did not begrudge them the caution, it being perfectly understandable in this situation.

“Damocles.” Yasaka spoke, warmth and concern warring in her tone as the door opened to admit me, “You have undergone some changes, I see.”

“Yes. I apologise for the surprise, Yasaka, but it seems that someone thought it was a good idea to inform me of my heritage minutes before I left. I attempted to hide the more… eye-catching parts, to no success. To that end, could I ask for your assistance in doing so after the meeting?” I asked, causing her to nod while staring at my horns.

“Certainly, I would be glad to… Your Heritage? Then that would mean that you are a descendant of Lucifer. Should we change how we address you?” She tilted her head, ears flopping at the motion.

I shook my head, denying, “Please don’t. I am a Sagan, not a Lucifer, no matter who my grandfather was. This changes nothing about our agreement or how I wish us to interact going forward.”

“I am glad to hear it.” She grinned a vulpine smile, shoulders relaxing at the answer, “I apologise for asking you to come out like this, but I was given no uncertain instructions.”

“Do not worry, Yasaka, I am not inconvenienced at all.” I reassured, resisting the urge to flirt with her given the formality of this event, “Speaking of, may I enquire as to who wished to meet me?”

“I’m sorry.” Yasaka shook her head, gently taking my hand and leading me to the opposite door of the room, stopping just before it, “I was told to not inform you in any way.”

“By me.” A deep voice called out in archaic Japanese, the sliding door opening on its own, “Consider this a personal test, young Sagan. For one who wishes to ally themself with the Land of the Rising Sun, my identity should be obvious.”

The one who spoke was clearly divine, the feeling coming off him, though weaker than I was used to, was unmistakable. Weaker in total amount, that is, the amount of power this God possessed seeming refined and sharpened to the point that even resting cross-legged as her was, I could feel danger rolling off him. Not actively, it reminded me of a big cat lounging, an apex predator at rest.

As for the God himself, he was dressed in a loose, formal hakama, hair tied into a knot at the top of his head. Beside him, a bow that hummed with power rested, while on his face rested a snarling face mask, resembling the type worn by Samurai of old. It hid the entirety of his face aside from the area around his mouth and his sharp eyes, but all I needed to identify him was the weapon at his side. On his other side rested a pair of swords, but the bow was the one that gave it away.

“Oh?” He grumbled, eyes assessing, “It appears that you recognised me at first glance.”

His voice tilted at the end, leading me to answer.

So I did, “Indeed I did. As you said, any who want to deal with the Shinto and Japan should know you, given your position. It is my pleasure to meet you, Lord Hachiman.”

I could see his mouth smile at my words. Indeed, sitting in front of me, awaiting my arrival, was the Divine Lord Protector of all Japan.

Hachiman, the Shinto Kami of War.