0. BLOOD MOON AND WATCHFUL BIRDS

AUTUMN LEAVES CRUNCHED under the soles of their feet, the sound echoing within the dead silent holt, filtered moonlight seeping through the drying branches, casting a hefty silvery glow upon the mismatched group of travelers.

"I'm tellin' ya, I smelled dead people." A voice defended, clearly not jn the mood to have his senses put to doubt.

Another 一a female this time一 sighed, reassuring, "We're not questioning your youkai nose, it's just that the sun has long since set and we're tired."

A defeated grumble was heard before the topic was dropped completely, a vague sense of defeat radiating off of the male.

"Should we set camp?"

"At this hour we won't be able to find wood for a fire."

The conversation was cut shortly as a rustle of leaves alerted them of an unwanted presence, only for their fears to dissipate when the muffled croaking of multiple ravens chimed.

"The hell are so many birds doing in a single tree?"

True to his word, the leaf-less branches were filled with rows upon rows of birds with inky black feathers, their eyes glowing an eerie red in the darkness as they observed, watched and analysed.

"Why are they looking at us?"

It was a valid question if they had ever heard one because, indeed, the birds were following their every movement. It was unnerving, to be scrutinised by a flock of creatures known to be affiliated with death.

And then they stopped, their beady eyes directed to the sky and with  series of loud craw's they took flight, wings flapping and coal feathers falling.

"That was... strange."

It was strange, so to speak and to put it mildly, because it wasn't every day that you get stared down by a bunch of birds.

And yet they did not question it, they did not follow the direction in which they flew, and ruled it out as yet another case of this era's weirdness.

They failed to hear the sound of music in the distance.

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THE SKY DARKENED and the moon hid behind a blanket of grey clouds, no stars appeared to be present and only a dome of pure black covered the heavens in a futile attempt to shield the earth of what was to follow.

The village people shivered underneath the roofs of their homes as they expected, with baited breath, what was to come. They knew it was simply a matter of time before they showed themselves, "the parade from hell" they called it一 a fitting name for the creatures of darkness that wandered the dirty streets.

The sound of a gentle note being sung playfully by a flute danced in the wind and the sweet melody that followed filled them with sorrow for they knew that they no longer had a chance of escape. He had heeded them一 multiple times so一 and yet they disregarded the warnings, continuing to march at their own pace and call him a fool and a disgrace.

It was bound to happen sooner rather than later. "Tomorrow night. Pray for your souls."一 it was a cryptic message he had left them, but they knew. He had enough of their ridicule and shameful words and yet they continued to send pleading words to the gods, asking for a miracle.

A miracle that would not come.

Such was human nature, to be hypocrites and not know it. Or maybe they knew it but they were too caught up in their perfect little word to admit to their wrongdoings.

It was then that the moon resurfaced, yet its unhealthy red glow did nothing to soothe the cries of the people.

And the melody spiked, the previous calm tone taking a drastic turn, becoming erratic, desperate and angered, each key played with perfect precision and they wondered一 had they not laughed in the boy's face, would they have been safe?

The boy, when young, was a cheerful little thing. With midnight black hair and blue-gray eyes and a smile that was worth millions, he lived with his parents in the mansion on the hill. Even now, said structure still stood as grand as it did nearly two decades ago, in a style that indicated to the parents' origins from beyond the sea and in the continent of grandeur and spoke of a lavish life.

They came from rich families, both his mother and father. The former adept to medicine and a great physician and the latter an amazing warrior whose abilities with the sword were nothing to sneeze at. Both parents had helped the village so much in the past一 offering aid and protection一 and they asked nothing in return but the permission to build a life here.

The boy soaked up everything that his parents taught him with a desire for knowledge so strong that they soon became fearful. They said he was possessed, that a demon stole their child and took his place. The look of utter betrayal on the lady and the lord's faces when they came to kill the boy became forever engraved in their minds.

But why had they allowed the boy to live?

Ah... The war began and instead of soiling their hands with the blood of a four year old youth they had hoped that he shall perish during the dispute between the feudal lords.

But they boy proved to be resilient, stubborn and adamant to learn the secret arts of the home country of his parents. It came as no surprise when he mastered them along with completing the teachings of his late parents.

(And they grew even more fearful.)

From the confines of their homes they watched as ravens flocked around their village, hungry red eyes spying the windows and from down the road, grunts and moans followed, voices hoarse from lack of use and heavy thuds of limping steps.

Empty corpses with ashen skin and white eyes trugged the path and the hoard moved on with the music, some with more coordination in their bodies, others not so much一 but, from atop the hill, shrouded in darkness and guarded by the tall, menacing armour-clad cadaver of the past lord, stood the once cheerful boy as he played the jet back flute in his hands with such accuracy that it should be commendable.

Covered in red and black robes, the sword of his father tucked deep within the layers, his long hair partially tied with a meter-long red ribbon danced in the wind as he stared down at his beautiful parade, a red glow holding his stormy blue-gray eyes captive.

There stood the shadow of their past mistakes and sins in the form of a beautiful death god一 EITO HYOUSUKE.

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inspo image for that scene on the hill