• The Chronicles of Baku, Volume One: Childhood: In Pain It Starts and Ends.

    It must be said that I had no idea how my life was going to take shape even once I hit the age of adulthood. But I am getting ahead of myself; the best place to start a story is at the beginning. My earliest memory was that of my Father, a tall, muscular man with a mane of thick black hair, evil red eyes glowing at me, who is supposed to be his son. He had me held in the air, his hand easily wrapping around my throat, his arm not straining one bit as he looked at my suffocating face.

    “This is what happens to a lazy son of mine.” He said, his normally charismatic voice growling these words out. I would have said something, but I couldn’t. I struggled to get breath; my punitive efforts brought a dark grin to his face. “You need to breathe? I guess I might let you do that.” With those words, he tossed me into the fast moving river that lied behind me. I would have screamed as I flew through the air, but I had no breath to scream with. The water felt like a million cold slivers hitting me all at once, and I managed to get enough breath from the gasp that ensued to scream loudly, before being pulled down to the bottom, rolling some, I can remember as well as the cold water rushing past me, with me, pulling me, that I was dizzy. I lost consciousness at this point, but I know that I lived, obviously. The next thing I remember is my eyes opening up, to see the calm, clear water of a pond above my head. Small fish were nipping at my toes, and I felt at peace, until I started wrenching for air. I tried to flail to get myself up, but it was to no avail. Then, a loud splash, and my vision was blurred as something pulled me out of the water. When I reached the surface, a gasped loudly for breath, the air burned my throat as I sucked it in. I started shivering uncontrollably in their arms, and I could hear his voice laughing, chuckling at me.

    “So it seems, my little brother, that you won’t be doing that anymore, will you Bakuryu?” I heard the voice say as he sat me down and tossed a blanket over me. I looked at him as I shook and tried to get air in my lungs. It was my older brother Hatsumo, with a small frown on his face. “I told you, you can’t ignore father, not once. You are lucky, Bakuryu, that I found you here.” I will never admit that I was lucky that he found me, but I was. I could feel myself warming up, and I smiled weakly at him. I moved my silver hair from my face so that I could see him more clearly and spoke, as far as I am concerned, my first words.

    “Thank, thank you onii-chan.” I said, using my burgeoning fire abilities to try and heat my body to a reasonable temperature. “I, I will be sure not to do so.”

    “Good choice Brother, now hurry up, we need to get back to the village, I’m sure that father will be impressed with your tenacity. “ My father, Mayasuke, would not be impressed, but I followed through on my half of the bargain. I was the perfect son, but I received no attention for it. Perhaps it was because of the shame my appearance brought to him, or maybe because I was the youngest I was treated like that, but I didn’t mind. I never wanted to be tossed into that river ever again.

    You may be wondering why my appearance would shame him, and it was simply because somehow, the strongest wolf in the clan, produced this child that looked nothing like him. Compared to my brothers around my age, I was thin and lithe, and a little shorter. That would be permissible, except that my hair was silver and my eyes golden. This absolute divergence from his looks not only made me stick out like a sore thumb, since all the members of the clan were male decedents of my father’s father, and they all looked relatively alike. Thick black hair and large, broad, muscular builds, red eyes that haunted souls even as they left their bodies. And here I was, thin, silver haired and with golden eyes that warmed souls rather than filling them with dread. I seemed as pathetic as a mouse among lions, but I didn’t notice at the time.

    My first training session with my eldest brother Murame, who had a son as old I am, proved otherwise. It was 4 years after that incident, and though we were always training our bodies to go on raids with our chores, it was at the age of seven that we started training for actual conflict. The day started simply enough, I woke at the break of dawn, but we did not get dressed, instead, we walked in our loin clothes to a clearing by the dreaded river.

    “You are all the age of training now, young ones, and as such, you will have to prove yourselves to us as great fighters in our ever extending need for greater wealth and notoriety.” He looked at me, and I knew that look in his eyes. He was going to make an example of me, by putting me against his son, who already had training in combat. “Baka-chan, would you please step into the clearing?” He asked me with that low, menacing voice that was his trademark. I sheepishly stepped forward, he nodded his head slightly and his son, Yikomu, walked up to where I was. “I do not want you to go too hard on Baku son, just demonstrate a good punch.” Murame said to his son, who smiled and looked me in the eyes.

    “You may want to yell.” Yikomu said with as he cocked back his fist and let loose a punch to my stomach. In an instant, my left arm came down and struck his away, I leaned in and threw a punch into his belly, which pushed the air out of his lungs. I then pulled my shoulder back and rammed it into his head, knocking him to the ground, gasping for breath, It reminded me of my first memory, and I looked up at my brother with shock in my eyes, and he met my gaze with more surprise then I had in that moment. When his son finally regained his breath, he walked up to me and leaned down to talk to me at my level. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at me, and back at his son, and walked back to where he was. He regained composure and watched his son come back to his side, before continuing the rest of the lesson, ignoring me for the rest of the day. While the other were practicing their punches into trees, tearing the bark off and shredding their knuckles in the process, Murame walked me to another clearing, along with his son, who now examined me closely, as if for the first time.

    “Bakuryu, I was unaware that you started training already, and I am not pleased that you did not tell me. Who trained you? Was it Hatsumo? That soft fool knows that only I am allowed to train the young ones .Did he teach you Bakuryu?” He asked me again, urgently. I shook my head lightly. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “You best not be lying to me, I will tear you apart little brother. “ I was filled with fright, but I found enough courage to shake my head and even speak a little bit.

    “I have never trained or raised a fist to imitate violence, I have just done as I have been told.” This was the truth, I did not train a single moment in my entire life up until that morning. When I was told to carry the buckets, I carried the buckets. When I was told to start a fire, I started a fire. When told to entertain myself, I would make a whistle out of a blade of grass and would play it with my emotions of the moment. He looked at his son and looked at me. “I want you to spar with Yikomu.” He stepped away and looked at both of us. He whistled and instantly my nephew, who was about twenty pounds heavier than I was, and about 3 inches taller, tackled me to the ground. I yelled, which saved me from the pain of having the air forced from my lungs. He lifted his fist and punched me in the face, he lifted his other fist and punched me again. The pain was excruciating, but his sheer size kept me on the ground, and there was nothing I could do to keep him off. He punched me three more times until I boxed both his sides simultaneously, which made him stop long enough for me to throw another punch at him. I threw another, and another, but he would not get off of me. I punched his face as he tried to punch at me again, and he finally fell off of me, to the side. I hadn’t realized what I had done, even as the blood leaked onto the ground and his father ran to us. I sat up and breathed in heavily, feeling the soreness that would soon would become bruises. I saw my nephew lay on the ground, limp.

    “Yikomu, you fight well.” I said breathlessly, as Murame picked up his arm, which fell lifelessly to his side. Murame looked at me with rage in his eyes and drew his sword, which glinted in the early morning light.

    “You killed him. You killed my first, and only son. You silver haired little beast, you killed him. He ran at me soundlessly, his blade poised, aimed and ready to cut me in half. I did not move, I was unsure of what to do in that moment, and it all happened so quickly. I thought that I was going to die for sure, until I heard a loud clank, and a tall figure draped in red fiery robes. A strong feminine voice assailed my older brother, and knocked the blade from his hand effortlessly. She disappeared as soon as she appeared, and my brother Hatsumo jumped from a tree. Murame was speechless. I couldn’t hear what that figure said to him, but he walked over to his son and picked up his lifeless body, and walked away. Hatsumo looked at me, very shocked.

    “How did you manage that?” He asked me, wiping away the blood that was starting to come out of wounds. I looked at him, still astounded that I managed to kill my nephew, with so little effort, and that I actually killed. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, and started shivering a bit, I could feel a chill run up and down my spine continuously. He put a hand on my head and sighed. “I’m not sure what father with think of this, Yikomu had quite a bit of potential, and you are, well, you brother.” He said carefully, but the shame was there all the same. My brother and I sat in that clearing for hours that day, not speaking a word, taking in the sounds of the forest as I awaited my fate. The other boys walked up and past us, I could hear them whimpering about their knuckles, the scent of their blood was everywhere. But they did not have the scent of death on them, not the remorse of knowing that you killed your own blood. Murame walked after them still holding his son’s cold body in his arms.

    “We should get going, I am sure that you want to eat something.” I did not want to eat, but surely I needed to, it was dusk and not a single morsel of food had entered me since dusk the previous day. As we approached the clan site, it was obvious that word of my act that day had already travelled around. The camp was torn between a few groups of opinion. The first was ecstatic that one of the younger ones had died the first day of training, these were generally the older ones, who started training at the age of 5. The next group was ready to kill me if given the world, that this tiny whelp should kill the strongest of all the young ones in two matches. The largest group by far didn’t care either way, they were just shocked that I was the one who did the killing. I could not read my father’s face when I saw him, and I couldn’t stand to look at him. I killed his first grandson, and I knew that I would probably not make it to see the next day. When we gathered around the fire, and the meat was passed out, I received my meal before any of peers, which was strange, because I normally received the least meat of all, as the very last of all. My father stood and took a deep breath.

    “Today, it would seem I lost my first grandson, which pains me greatly, I assure you. But it would seem I have gained something very important. My Silver haired son Baku, whom many of us, including myself felt that he would amount to nothing, and that he would die if forced to fight. Now it would seem that even the strongest might oppose him and die. While the other children nurse their fledgling wounds on their hands, Baku here holds his first kill by the neck and holds his body only slightly bruised. Tonight we celebrate the true birth of Bakuryu. The Wolf clan lifted their meat in the air, and shouted to honor the leader’s wishes. My father looked at me and motioned for me to come over, which I obliged. He patted me on the head and smiled, the first time that I saw an honest smile on his face in my life. I smiled back as I sat down and tore into my meat, the taste was delicious for the first time, and my stomach was happy t not be empty. The celebration ended for me when my father handed me a glass of wine to drink. As soon as the wine stung through my virgin throat, I looked around, my vision blurred, and I fell over, presumably spilling the glass and causing a great laugh for all.

    My training from that day forth was handled by Hatsumo, who was actually a better fighter than Murame, and knew how to handle me. I suppose it was because Murame would try to kill me rather than train me. It seemed that every day I trained with Hatsumo, my understanding of my body deepened, my relationship with my father strengthened. One day, about a year into my training, proved how strong I was becoming. Most of the clan left to raid a nearby village, which was standard, but I and the other children were left behind as usual. The unusual thing was that they did not leave anybody to protect us. I knew that my brethren were competent, if not excellent fighters, but I did not feel safe by ourselves. My feelings were found to be correct because not long after Hatsumo left, when the grounds of the site were suddenly engulfed in darkness, and thick miasma permeated the air. A dozen dark figures walked out from the noxious gas, bright orange eyes gleaming as they eyed us down. Their punching daggers clanked loudly as they tried to box us in to a small circle. We all tried to stand our ground, but they were simply much larger than we were. As we approached a hut to stay away from them, I looked inside and noticed a sword, an extra one. I quickly ran inside and pulled it out, not taking time to admire its beauty. I just ran head first into the biggest, scariest one and slashed upwards, cutting into his stomach and pulling it up to cut into his ribs. The blood gushed from the wound, coving my left side with a thick curtain of crimson. I pulled my blade out and ran to another, how blocked my attack, because my sword was off balance, but I quickly recovered and slashed into his neck, bringing him down as well. Seeing their comrades falling, the rest of the dark people ran towards me, but my brethren started to fight against them with their bare fists, and so the threat was over. I wiped the blood off my face and smiled at them, and they smiled at me. I was seen as a leader now, and I was once again praised for my actions, at the age of eight I was seen in higher esteem than some of my siblings who were 30 years older than me. I was seen as a prideful part of our clan, and as a threat to the pride of some individuals.

    As my esteem with my father increased , he allowed me to do as I pleased more and more. I decided as this occurred, that I could train my magical abilities, to help my clan attain even higher ranks of infamy. My father’s clan was well known for about 30 miles around the clan site, but if they had a magician to aid them in their conquest. For the five years after the incident at the site, where I proved myself a leader, I spent training myself physically for the use of the great stores of magic in my body. At the age of 13, I could make flames appear in the air, make small explosions about 6 feet away from me and I was beginning to learn to use my special flame, blue flames, to help heal my body. Hatsumo was still my favorite older brother, but I definitely was different from him and the rest of my siblings. My hair, though thick in body, was quite thin and lustrous, my hair also reached ever down my body as I aged, rather than puffing out like my sibling’s hair. My body was a completely different build then as well. I was significantly leaner than my peers, their muscles were bulky and intimidating, where as my own appeared nonexistent, or at the very most very small. My brothers teased me, but I knew that I was just right for what I was meant to do. At this age, I began to question whether or not I was truly a wolf, but it was not yet my goal in life to seek out this heritage, I had a good home, and a caring family.

    My Magic skills were tested harshly right after my young brothers and I celebrated our passage into manhood. A group of assassins, hired to exterminate my clan by a wealthy land owner whom my father just attacked, waited until the festivities died down, when everyone was asleep and partied out. I awoke because my alcohol induced slumber ended right as they lit the trees around the encampment on fire. The blaze was intense, and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. I concentrated my energies on the roaring flames, not knowing what I should do, just knowing that I should do something. I focused on bringing the flames into my body, and I seemed to pull them into my magical reserves. One of my younger siblings, Harume, woke up and saw what I was doing, and when I collapsed to the ground, my body burning an imprint to the ground, he tossed a bucket of water on me, which made me sizzle and steam unmercifully. My body was like a hot piece of metal. A few of my brothers picked me up, much to their displeasure and tossed me into that same river I dreaded so many years ago. The river now, at my increased weight, caressed and soothed the heat out of me, and a great calm returned to me as I flowed down the river, stopping at the same pond as last time and floating on my back, lost in the serenity of the quiet air. My brothers walked down and found me lying in the pool, a wide smile on my face.

    “Hey there, the water is fine, if you would care to join me.” I said with a relaxed tone and closed eyes. From this situation, I earned absolute respect of my father as a protector, and I was treated not quite his equal, but like one of his brothers. Somehow, I went from the most despised and unrecognized of all his male children (more on that later), to his most respected child. I was given absolute free reign, but this relationship would quickly begin to fade once I hit 16 years of age.

    At That age, I began to conflict with him severely. Through my years of magical training I gained a different perspective on how to deal with problems. My father saw it perfectly fit to destroy a village if they did not agree to his terms, but I believed it was far more efficient to kill leaders and allow them to feel our wrath slowly, allow them to think things over and try again. But that was nothing compared to the day that we managed to bring down a great fire fox in our forest. She killed some 20 of my brothers, but we managed to weaken her enough to capture her, and I was going to enjoy cooking this one thoroughly. I enjoyed putting her on the chopping block, stripping her down, and restraining her so that I could chop her up easily. I waited until she came to before walking up to her/

    “You wolves are so foolish for trying this.” She said calmly. I sharpened my knife and walked up to her.

    “You are going to make a nice stew you know. “ I said as I walked closer. She did not seem to acknowledge it and looked me dead in the eyes with her ruby like ones.

    “If you cut into me, I am going to shatter your world to pieces.” I smiled at her comment, and cut into her arm, when an image appeared in my head. It was that of a beautiful Fox demon, with flowing silver hair, glowing golden eyes, and a bright smile on her face as she held a baby in her arms. I pulled back quickly, gasping for breath.

    “What was that?” I asked her, suddenly desperate for answers. I started to shiver, as I tried to find that image in my mind again, but to no avail. I started to breath heavily, and she laughed loudly.

    “Let me free, and I will tell you.” She said brightly. I suddenly didn’t care for my clan at all, I instead needed this curiosity to be fed, to be answered. I took off her restraints and allowed her to get dressed in private, though he had already seen every inch of her. When he walked back into the hut, she smiled at me. “You are not what you think you are, you are not only a wolf, young Baku.” My eyes widened, of course, it was obvious that, could she be a little more specific? “You are half wolf, by way of your father, but you are also part Fox, by way of your mother, the woman you saw in your vision.” It all made sense now. I looked at her thankfully and bowed.

    “Thank you, whoever you are, as promised you are free to go.” I said with a bow. She giggled slightly and walked away.

    “The name is Neko, and call me your guardian, Baku.” She said mysteriously before disappearing in broad day light. I walked away from the hut and towards my father, who was basking in the glory of our recent victory over the fire fox. He grinned as I came near, in the heights of inebriation.

    “So, are you making us a nice fox stew? I wouldn’t mind eating her alive, she was very sexy.” I didn’t say anything, I just dropped my knife and looked at him with a very serious look in my eyes.

    “Who is my mother?” I asked him simply, calmly, and to the point. He put down his wine and stood up. Even at this point in my life, my father towered over me, about a foot taller and about 70 pounds heavier than I was. He looked at me gently before sighing, he placed his hands on my shoulders.

    “Your mother was a wolf, why do you ask?” He said, not obviously lying, but I could feel it in my bones that he was not being truthful with me.

    “Who is my mother?” I asked again, this time more firm and resolute. He took a moment to sober himself and looked at me, his eyes more intense, and his grip tightening.

    “Why does this concern you now son?” He asked me, his strength growing as he concentrated more on me. I looked at him soberly, and he tried his best to do the same. “I am your father, and this is all that matters.”

    “I beg to differ. Why am I so different from everyone else here? I know that I am accepted, and even looked up to by some of my little brothers, but I must know why I am so different.” My father looked at me in the eyes with scorn that pulled back to my first memory, and sighed again.

    “Your Mother was a fox priestess from a village far away from here.” He growled out between his teeth. “She was beautiful, and I just had to have her.” He said, recalling his memory vividly with a smile on his face. “Why do you suddenly care about this when you should be making that fire fox into a nice, thick stew?”

    “I let her go.” I said clearly. He smiled widely, artificially, when in the next instant he punched me in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me and lifting me in the air with his fist. He grabbed me by the foot and pulled me to the ground, slamming my shoulders to the ground with a painful thud. As I lay on the cold soil at his feet, he kicked me in the stomach, making me skid through the earth. I stood up and ran at him. Regardless of my relationship with my father, I was not going to take such violence sitting down. I threw a punch at his face, but he grabbed my arm effortlessly, pulled me to his body and elbowed me in the face. I held onto his arm and tried to kick him in the stomach, but he picked me up, and tossed me again, almost effortlessly. This time, I hit a tree, which splintered on impact, my older brothers jumped in, hooting and hollering at my father’s actions, taking pleasure in my pain. At that point, I could not remember much, I just know that my father took his time, beating my body and tossing me about like the ragdoll I was. When I came to, Hatsumo was standing over me, looking sadly at my damaged body.

    “I am afraid, brother, that you have been banished from the clan of our Father, and that I should not even be helping you. Brother, before I leave, I will give a tool to help you find your mother. I cannot do anything more. I wish you well Bakuryu may you live well.” He said softly before touching my forehead with two fingers, a brand appearing and disappearing. Suddenly, my tail and ears came out, and I had a greater awareness of the world around me, rather than the pain that racked my body. So my childhood ended much like the way it started. I was disgraced, alone, and cold. I don’t know how, but I still had a glimmer of hope left in me. I closed my newly aware eyes and rested a long while, for when I woke, I was to be an adult.