A/N: Here we find ourselves at last, at the end of our long journey. Thank you for walking with me. It's been a pleasure.

xxxxx

Chapter XXXV: Flight

xxxxx

Whatever begins, also ends.

~Seneca saying

(Seven years later.)

Naruka held her and stroked her hair as Katsuro stood on and watched, a solemn child perched on each broad, jovial shoulder. Another farewell. Perhaps the last. "I will ask again, as I ask every time: will you come with us, Izayoi? There is room in our home for you. There will always be room for you."

And as always, Izayoi had no broader answer than 'no.'

She was not happy here in the castle of the West. They were not unkind to her, but Sesshoumaru's disdain seeped down through the occupants to reach her in subtler forms of cruelty, and though she had nothing to complain about she also had no joy of anything... anything but her son.

She put her hand on his head and threaded her fingers through Inuyasha's silvery mop of hair. What little comfort there was could always be found here. "I'm sorry, Naruka, I truly am," she said. "I'm not even sure why myself. I just can't help but feel that it's important he be here, among this half of his people, with his brother. Call it a hunch, if you will. There is destiny here I don't know about."

"I'll never understand those confounded visions of yours," Katsuro said, not unkindly. "If you say you've got to stay, then stay you should. But you're always welcome at our hearth. Remember that."

Izayoi smiled, soft and weary. "I will."

Her friends turned and walked out the castle gate to meet their entourage. Hisui and Menou, their identical dark-eyed sons, turned to look back and wave mournfully. Izayoi waved back with a half-hearted smile. She had seen their future, and the future of the line of demon-slayers they would found, and it was not lovely. But there was a light, very small and wavering but heartbreaking in its pale loveliness, that kept her tongue still. That light had to come. The darkness and blood around it would come with or without them. At least this way there would be love.

She had hoped that with the end of the war and the death of nearly all involved, her visions would calm down and let her rest, but such was not the case. Nothing was clear, nothing was imminent, but there were images. Always the same ones, over and over again, and at the heart of every one was the dark lord with the scarred back. His red eyes burned through her dreams. His name was at the tip of her tongue. That was not, however, Izayoi's battle to fight.

It was Inuyasha's.

Not now, not even soon, but the red-eyed spider lay inevitably in her son's future. It hurt her to know. She wished every day that the visions had not told her, for how could she ever leave him knowing what fate awaited him?

And yet, the illness ate away relentlessly at her bones, and would not be stayed.

She was not long for the world. Her son would have to grow up alone and hunted. Crouching down, she folded her silk-draped arms around his small body and wept silently into his hair.

If only Sakenmaru hadn't died. She didn't dare send him to Katsuro and Naruka-- their own children were boisterous, but soft and breakable in comparison to Inuyasha and his vicious little claws, and his untested strength. He could kill them while innocently playing, and she didn't have time to teach him restraint. It was demons he needed, but there were none willing to take him. Sesshoumaru loathed him, seeing in him every betrayal his father had ever made. The house of dragons was no longer welcoming to her. What others there were were all strangers.

"Come, Inuyasha," she said gently. "We must go on a journey together, just you and I."

"Where to, mother?" he asked, peering up at her through golden eyes-- the exact shade of his father's.

She suppressed the familiar ache in her chest and smiled for him. "Up into the mountains, my darling. Pack what you need. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

He nodded obediently and ran off toward his rooms to do what she asked, a red blur among the grey stones and late evening fog. His hair shone like silver in the fading light.

"Oh, my beloved," she whispered to the rising moon. "I wish you were here. With all my heart, I wish you were here."

The pale face skirting the edges of the trees remained silent as always.

xxxxx

She dreamed, and for the first time in seven years, it was good.

On a hillside, the spring sun warm in her hair, the fragrance of wildflowers all around, she lay with her head on the earth and watched the clouds spinning lazily overhead. The violet tinge of vision-sight was on them, but she thought nothing of it until she felt the presence beside her.

"Mai!" she cried, an old joy rising in her chest.

The lady sat on the grass beside her, careless of her white robes, her pale hair spilling all through the flowers. The expression on her face was kind and glad. "It has been a very long time, Izayoi," she said.

She reached out to run her fingers down Izayoi's cheek, and Izayoi caught them within her own and held tight. "I have missed you, my lady," she said honestly. "As I have missed our lord. Do you know anything of his fate? What's happened to him?"

Sorrow cast a long shadow over Mai's face at the question, and she turned away. "He burned," she replied bluntly, "for a very long time. There was blood on his skin that took oceans of fire to scald away. The lord of hell is pitiless in his compassion for the damned-- he does not flinch from the horror required to wash a soul clean enough to pass through into heaven. Our lord suffered his love in full, for a thousand eternities... and emerged at last radiant and new. He is waiting for you. I have come because he thought himself too likely to reach through the veil and tear you through whole, willing or not."

Izayoi laughed. "Though it hurts to hear that he suffered, I'm glad to hear that it didn't change who he is." Her smile faded, and she leaned forward to lay her head on Mai's shoulder. "I don't know what to do, Mai. I miss him so much, and I am so tired of fighting, but how can I leave my son? Our son? He isn't old enough or strong enough yet."

"Oh, my dear," murmured Mai, stroking her hair comfortingly, "he is your son. He will never be old or strong enough to lay your heart at ease."

"He's only a child!" Izayoi protested. "It can't possibly be right for me to abandon him in a world that doesn't care about him, that hurts him at every opportunity. I can't. I mustn't."

Mai laughed and pushed away to hold Izayoi by the shoulders and shake her gently. "Hush, Izayoi. You are a strong woman, you can be forgiven for your arrogance. Did you really think the choice was up to you? Death is coming for you, whether you wish it or no. I came only to tell you, so that you would not be surprised when you see me next two days hence."

"So soon?" Izayoi whispered. Tears stung her eyes. "I hardly have time."

"Saeki will carry you. You will get there on time. And, Izayoi, I should not tell you this, but I love you so I feel I must-- your son will live, longer even than you have lived at the very least. He will not hate you for losing this last battle."

The tears came in earnest now, bursting from her like they had been pent up within her belly for years. Perhaps they had. She threw her arms about Mai's neck and wept without restraint for many long moments.

Then she pulled away, cleared the wetness from her eyes with her sleeve, and took a deep breath. "I will meet you there in two days. Give me strength."

Mai took her face in her hands and pressed a soft kiss to her brow. "I have none to give, but you have my blessing for whatever worth it has. I look forward to our next meeting."

The hillside faded into mist. Izayoi woke in her dark room, her hair smelling of out-of-season flowers.

xxxxx

The morning dawned crisp and bright, with the edge of winter biting at its heels. The castle had not yet woken, preferring to sleep late and walk later.

She put Inuyasha up in Saeki's saddle before swinging up herself, then swaddled him in the thick layers of silk she wore so he could share her warmth on the long, cold ride. He snuggled into her chest and promptly went back to sleep, his regular breath gusting against her collarbone.

Izayoi's heart lifted just a little as Saeki thundered out of the courtyard to the north and east. The sun silvered the branches and dewy grass of the forest lane leading away toward the mountains, making it look like it was made entirely of green and white crystal.

Saeki's hooves flew with the wind, enchanted as they were, so that the leages between her and her destination vanished with the morning fog.

All through they day they rode, stopping only when dusk fell and the horse's steps grew less sure. They found shelter in the hollow canopy of a great old spruce, huddled up against its mighty trunk, hidden away from any watchers by the low sweep of its green branches against the fragrant forest floor.

When they woke, shivering but rested, they found a fine dusting of frost on the greenery outside the tree-hollow. The world shimmered like crystal.

She could not have asked for a more beautiful last day.

They reached the ruins of the castle at midday. There was little left of the original structure but jutting rotten posts and the occasional scattered foundation stone. The fire had not been merciful. However, behind it up the valley rose a new building, much smaller, built of sturdy logs and pitch. No smoke rose from its chimney. Its occupant had not yet arrived.

"Where are we, mother?" Inuyasha asked, rising from yet another nap to peer blurrily at the world around him.

She smiled. "This is where you were born, Inuyasha. I know it doesn't look like much now, but it was very beautiful, once. Your father built it for me."

"Even that house back there?" he asked, awestruck.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Katsuro built that... for you."

She knew her son had followed her train of thought when he stiffened in her arms and twisted to look up at her. "Me and you, right?"

Though she had had time to come to terms with the pain over the last couple of days, she had not been overly successful. Her throat clenched and she held him tighter. "No, my darling. Just for you."

"You can't leave!" he shouted, clutching her arm and sinking his claws into her flesh unaware. "You can't, mother! I won't let you!"

"Oh, my darling," she whispered, and let her tears fall between them. "My beloved boy. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but I can't stay."

"Why?" he bellowed, betrayal written all over his small, fierce face.

She forced herself to keep looking him in the eye. He deserved to know the truth, as far as she could give it to him-- he was no spoiled noblewoman's brat, coddled and sheltered to keep the cruel beauty and horror of the world out for as long as possible. He was the son of warriors. He could be strong enough for this. "You know that I've been very sick, love?"

He nodded mistrustfully.

"At the end of sickness like these lies something called death. You know what it is, I think, you have sharp ears and you pay attention. It means that I have to leave this place and go to another, one where you can't go until the end of your own life."

"Why can't I go with you now?" he asked, clearly holding on to his composure by a very wobbly thread.

She touched his face, kissed his forehead, rubbed his back through his warm fire-rat haori. "Because you must live," she told him, and felt a sudden depth behind her words, like there were two voices speaking through her. She closed her eyes and savoured it, knowing its source. "You must live long, and be a great warrior. There are many trials ahead in your future, but none too terrible for you to face, especially if you find those few bright souls who are willing to help you. Be cautious, run fast, trust no one until they prove themselves trustworthy. You are my son. I know you're strong enough."

"Mother," he whimpered, and buried his face in her chest. "Don't go."

"It's not forever," she whispered. "I promise you. When you've done all you have to do here and it's time for you to pass on, I will be waiting for you. Your father and I both will. But you must live. I've seen that the world will need you, sooner rather than later. You need to be there. On the way, you will find things worth living for. I know it. It feels terrible and cruel right now, I know, but it's only for a while. Chin up. Back straight. You are samurai."

She could feel the terrible struggle going on in her son through her fingers on his back, the tight clenching of his muscles, his heaving, laboured breath. But at the end of it, he sat up straight, dismounted the horse to land in a crouch on the damp grass, then stood up and regarded her with fire in his eyes. Pride had been kindled in his heart. It would sustain him, she hoped.

Izayoi slipped off the horse beside him, knelt on one knee to come to his level, and kissed him three times-- once on each cheek, and last on the forehead.

"I love you, Inuyasha," she said. "Don't forget that. Not ever."

"I-I won't," he said, only the hitch in his voice and the tension in his shoulders giving away how close he was to tears.

She smiled at him, bright as a star, and stood up. "That's my boy," she said. "Go make yourself a fire in the house before you freeze to death."

Despite her order, she felt his eyes on her until she crested the head of the valley and went out of sight. Only then did she allow herself to collapse, the sick-weakness and sorrow both combining to take all the strength from her limbs and leave her limp and hollow on the high mountain ledge. The wind blew over her, knife-sharp, and she felt her body begin to fail. It was familiar, and not entirely unwelcome this time.

Soft fingers touched her shoulders, her hair, and she slipped into trance to find Mai behind her.

"I will catch you," she said. "You will not burn again. You have already paid for your sins, when the spear took you-- now there is only rest awaiting you."

"I am glad," murmured Izayoi distantly. "I'm so very tired, Mai. The weariness seems all there is left of me."

Mai pulls her to her feet, easy as if she weighed nothing at all. "Then leave it," she invited. "Come with me."

"Come with us," echoed another voice, deeper and wonderfully familiar, from her side.

She turned her head to find Inutaisho, as she'd known she would. He said nothing, only held his arms out to her. He looked the same, exactly the same, down to the polished pins in his beautiful, beautiful hair and the crinkled smile on his face.

With a half-stifled sob she threw herself against him, her arms around his neck nearly tight enough to strangle. His arms tightened around her and he buried his face in her neck.

"Oh, my love," he whispered against her throat. "I have missed you so."

The tears choked her so she couldn't answer, couldn't tell him how much she'd yearned for him through the dark stretches of the night, through all the long winters alone, but he understood. The press of his fingers against her spine told her he knew everything.

"There are so many things we have to show you," Mai said when at last they broke apart far enough to face her, their arms still tight around each others' waists. There was no jealousy in her eyes, only joy. "So many wondrous places we have wandered through, so many great beings to introduce you to. I daresay you know one or two of them. So, my dear, are you ready?"

Izayoi looked back at her grey husk, lying on the frost-bitten stone at her feet, and took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she said, and realized even as she said it that she meant it. Her life was finished. She had left nothing undone that could be done. She had wasted nothing.

"Then follow us," cried Mai, and leapt off the ledge.

Izayoi took hold of Inutaisho's hand, and together they followed her into the sky.

XxxxxX

A/N: I... can't quite believe it's done. After nearly four years. I hope you've enjoyed the trip, everyone, and thank you so much for reading this. Your encouragement gave me the inspiration I needed to keep going. I hope to see you around some other time, perhaps in some other fandom. For now, all my love and fare thee well. :)

-Eia