PROLOGUE: HIEI

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Shoulders heavy with the weight of the past, Hiei stopped to look at the white landscape far off in the distance. He recognized the cliff, and the river below it. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he appeased the ghost who haunted him with promises of revenge. Their heads will roll.

The journey seemed endless, every step falling slower than the last. His body fought him. It remembered, and it did not want to go back. Willpower had always been his strongest attribute, and he used it now. He'd spent the past two years waiting for this very moment. Thoughts of what came next invaded, and he pushed them away.

He hiked up the tall mountain, its extreme elevation no match for his conditioning. Only when the snow trapped his feet with every step did he struggle, remembering the feel of it on his skin as an infant. Avoiding it at all costs, this was the first time he'd touched it since the last time he saw his sister.

They were only children, then. He'd wandered back to this forsaken land to find her, before he was old enough to be affected by the wards which kept its location concealed from the realm of men. He'd stayed hidden by the outskirts of the village. Dense forest hid him well, and from halfway up an old pine, he'd watched her, communicating with the woodland creatures. They'd gathered around her, rubbing their heads against her ankles and climbing up to perch on her shoulder. Her laugh, like the fine crystals of a snowflake, had thawed his heart.

When it came down to it, he'd abandoned his plan. Even at that young age, he had killed hundreds, if not thousands. A girl that pure had no business being involved with someone like him. Knowing him would only bring danger knocking at her door, and he could not risk losing the only person in the world who meant something to him. She might have loved him, once, had he chosen a different life.

The ice maidens made it perfectly clear the day they threw him to his death; he was evil. A burden. A bastard. There was nothing for him in this life but violence and cruelty. Yukina had a chance at something more, and he'd die before standing in the way of that.

Trudging through the knee-deep snow, he made his way through the empty village square. Faces peered out of windows, terrified. It was forbidden for men to enter the ice realm. He'd never been one for rules. Sword drawn, hanging from his hand, he scanned with his Jagan Eye for what he sought. Yukina did not enter his awareness, drawing a string of curses from his mouth. This place was his last remaining hope of finding her and their mother. He should have been able to sense them, and needed to know they were safe.

A woman scurried down the snow-laden street, package tucked beneath her arms and head bent against the intense flurries.

"You!" he called out. "Where does Hina live?"

She dropped the parcel to the ground and screamed, running into the nearest home. These women were heartless cretins, and he looked forward to knocking down each and every door to slaughter them all. But first, he needed to find them.

Reaching the end of the town center, he started to reform his plan. If they would not speak with him, or lead him to them, he would need to find them himself. About to turn around, something caught his attention. A single gray stone sticking out of the snow. Whether by intuition or his Jagan, he knew immediately what it was. Curiosity brought him closer, and heartbreak kept him glued to the spot.

The muffled crunch of footsteps sounded behind him and he readied his sword. When he realized who it was, he nearly killed her on the spot. But he needed to know.

"Who is buried here?"

Rui came closer, standing by his side as she stared at the grave.

"My best friend," she said sadly. "Hina."

"What happened to her?" he asked, his voice as cold as the air.

"I found her, hanging from a beam in her home. Her daughter clung to her ankles, weeping. It was the worst day of my life."

"The worst, hm?"

Her ice blue eyes examined him, and she fell to her knees.

"It's you." Through her tears, she pleaded. "Please, kill me. I've wanted to die from the moment you left my hands."

"I do not take requests."

His thirst for revenge had left him the moment he saw the grave. Sheathing his sword, he ripped his eyes from the etching on the stone. There was still another matter at hand.

"Where is Yukina? I will only ask you once."

"She left," Rui said, her voice still shaking. "Years ago, she asked about her brother. We tried to keep it a secret, but something in her had always known. I told her about you, and the next morning she was gone."

"When?"

"It was almost two years ago, now. I have no idea where she is."

Cracking his neck, he tried to comprehend how much of a failure this mission had been. He could not locate her with his eye, which meant it was more than likely his sister was dead, too.

"Hiei," she whispered. "You need to know how much she loved you. It was the pain of losing you that drove her to it."

"Fuck you," he spat, turning to leave so that she did not see the agony on his face.

What would possess her to tell him that? How dare she place the fault for his mother's death at his feet? It was her actions that had led them all here. Rui would live a long, miserable life – he would make sure of it.

It was not until he left that frigid domain that the truth finally hit him. His sister, his mother, and her stone, gone. Exiled from the only family he'd ever known, possessing a name that elicited vile hatred when spoken, there was nothing left for him anymore. Pulling his cloak more tightly around himself, he huddled underneath a dead, bare tree.

With his sword balanced across his lap, he stared off into the distance, trying to think of a single reason to be alive. Not a soul would miss him, except for those who only wanted the chance to kill him themselves. Perhaps he would meet his mother in the spirit realm. This thought brought him comfort momentarily, before he realized that, in all likelihood, she did not want him either.

She may have taken her life over the grief of losing him, but she did not know him. He doubted, if given the chance to see who he'd become, that she would make the same decision. The Imiko - destined for destruction, fated to isolation -could not prove worthy of her sacrifice.

Coming to terms with her death, and with the fact that he would never find his sister, his head hung low. The idea of a thousand-year existence with no company except for his own was too much to bear. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, he dragged the blade across his skin, and wondered how deep he would have to cut to die before his body regenerated.

To be sure, he sliced both wrists to the bone.

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