Kumiho Na-Ri
Demoness of storms 1
by
J. Paschmann
Thunder, blood and samurai
It was thundering, but there were no storm clouds in the sky. Na-Ri, who had just been lying relaxed by the stream watching the butterflies play, looked up in surprise. When there was another bang, this time a whole series in incredibly quick succession, she jumped up. That wasn't thunder. She had never heard anything like it before.
Curious as she was, she set off to find out the origin of this unusual thunder. She walked light-footedly through the jungle, using paths that most people would not even have recognized as such. The fact that she didn't have to rely solely on her eyes was of course an advantage. She could smell the tiger's tracks even weeks later.
She didn't need to be afraid in the jungle. Nothing that lived here could be dangerous to her, be it a tiger or the poisonous snake she was skilfully jumping over.
The noise was clearly coming from the direction of the fortress. Suddenly, unusual smells hit her nose. It was smoke, but not from normal fire. It had something of the smell that the fire-breathing mountains gave off.
Na-Ri's thoughts briefly wandered to her sister Yun, who lived in the north, near the great mountain of fire. She hadn't seen her for a while and she missed her. Na-Ri often felt lonely because she couldn't talk to anyone.
A new smell made her stop abruptly. It was metallic. She could identify this smell even among a thousand other odors, and it made her tremble. It was the smell of blood, a lot of blood. Human blood.
She continued on her way much more cautiously. Her hunting instinct had awakened.
It was a battlefield. People had fought and died here. That was not unusual, nor did it upset Na-Ri. Humans did this all the time. It made it easy for her to satisfy her needs.
Hidden under the trees, she looked down at the rice field in the valley in front of the fortress, which was now littered with dead and dying people.
She realized with regret that she couldn't go down there yet, because the victorious humans were still there. They walked across the battlefield and cut off the heads of the victims. That was stupid. She didn't like eating corpse.
A crack to her left caught her attention again.
She cautiously backed away into the jungle, looking for a way to the sound she had heard. Here, too, she smelled blood. One of the soldiers had probably escaped the carnage. It was quite possible that she could show him mercy.
* * *
She had been mistaken. It wasn't one person, it was two. And they were clearly enemy soldiers.
While the injured elder was clearly a local, the other came from a foreign country called Japan. Both wore armor and carried swords.
The Japanese was young, strong and confident of victory, while his opponent was injured and considerably older. Na-Ri estimated him to be just over 30 rainy seasons old.
Na-Ri didn't particularly like the Japanese. However, she had never been this close to one before. What she did know about these strangers was that they lived on an island in the sea, that alone was a reason not to like them. No one who could walk on salty water could be good. Besides, they came here and stole the crops of the people here, her people.
At that moment, the swords clashed.
Both fought well.
But injured as he was, the local had no chance.
Although he managed to inflict a cut on the samurai's arm, the latter managed a heavy hit on his thigh, forcing the local to the ground.
Triumphantly, the samurai raised his sword to finally cut off the head of the defeated man and end the fight.
If the samurai disappeared quickly and not too much blood spurted out, the corpse might still be enough for a meal. Not enough, but enough for a few weeks. Na-Ri just had to wait patiently. Then her eyes fell on the piece of jewelry the defeated man was wearing around his neck.
She made the decision suddenly and without giving it a second thought.
"Stop!"
Startled and astonished, the samurai looked around for her. He may not have understood her words, but the mere fact that someone else had suddenly appeared here might have posed a danger to him.
However, when he recognized the source of the exclamation, he began to grin broadly.
Na-Ri did not understand what he was saying, but the meaning of his words did not escape her. Disdainfully, he had put her off until later.
Now he turned back to his opponent, who was kneeling on the ground beaten. A mistake he immediately regretted.
In an instant, Na-Ri had bridged the 6-step distance to him, pulled his second, shorter sword from his belt and stabbed it into his neck.
The dying man stared at her in amazement and shock as he dropped his sword powerlessly and slumped to the ground.
As she bent over him and began to drink the blood gushing from his neck, a last flicker of understanding flickered in his eyes.
"Kitsune Kami!" were his last, weak words as Na-Ri feasted on his lifeblood.
At least he had still recognized her.
* * *
Na De-Yong, officer of the local defense force of the local river fortress, suddenly came to his senses again.
Confused, he looked around. He was lying somewhere in the forest. An improvised roof protected him from a light drizzle. When he tried to get up, pain and great weakness held him back.
Slowly the memory returned. It had been a terrible massacre. They had had nothing to oppose the Japanese invaders. When he saw that his unit had been destroyed, he fled into the forest, wounded. But then one of the samurai caught up with him there. A battle ensued. And he lost.
Why was he still alive? Where was he?
His gaze fell on the bandages on his body. They were not made of cloth, but were made of leaves and fastened with strings of plant fibers. As he touched them curiously, a bright, feminine voice sounded.
"You should leave them alone. You've lost a lot of blood. But the herbal paste under the leaves should heal the wounds cleanly! Luckily for you, they weren't so deep that I couldn't do anything for you except save you!"
His eyes searched for the source of the voice and he turned his head weakly to the side.
A young woman was squatting in front of the shelter. She didn't seem to mind the rain, as she made no attempt to protect herself from it. Well, she didn't need to worry about her clothes getting soaked, because she wasn't wearing any.
De-Yong's gaze flickered, and once again he sank back unconscious.
* * *
Dream. He must have been dreaming. De-Yong had just regained consciousness and his memory kicked in again.
The pain from his wounds had subsided, but a great thirst plagued him. As he lifted himself up weakly and carefully, he saw a folded leaf filled with water next to him. This improvised vessel made him shudder. Had it not been a dream after all?
He looked around cautiously. When he saw no one, he reached for his neck. Startled, he realized that it was gone.
"Are you looking for this?"
The female voice sounded from the shadows of the trees. An outstretched, naked arm held a silver talisman on a leather strap in the cone of light of the full moon.
Unable to answer with his dry throat, De-Yong just nodded.
Slowly, the figure belonging to the arm moved into the moonlit clearing next to the shelter.
It was the most beautiful girl De-Yong had ever seen. She was also completely naked. What didn't match her figure, however, were the long, fur-covered ears and the bushy, long tails that twitched nervously behind her back.
Remembering his grandfather's lessons, De-Yong quickly counted the tails. There were nine!
Holy Buddha, it was her!
In the meantime, she stepped closer to him. Completely unabashed about her nakedness, she squatted down next to him.
"Sorry, I'm sure you can't answer, you must be thirsty."
With these words, she brought the improvised water cup to his mouth.
He greedily swallowed the refreshing water, promptly choked and had to cough.
She quickly took the container from him.
"Now, now, be careful. It wouldn't be nice if all my efforts to keep you alive were in vain before you could answer my questions."
