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His path had been decided for him even before his birth. He, the son of the king of the gods and the queen, his wife and goddess of beauty, would be the god of vengeance, honor, and war.
His was destined to be a path of conquest.
He would lead the humans to a glory they could never hope to obtain on their own. They were weak, prone to failure and sin. They did not know to conquer or win without his blessing.
The humans did not know his true name; they were unworthy of it.
He did not understand what value his father saw in them—his father had even taken a second wife from amongst the weak, pathetic humans.
He took no pleasure in aiding them, but it helped with the monotony that accompanied eternity. Without war or vengeance, there would be little enough to occupy him and less still for him to do.
"My lord." One of his inhuman servants bowed low. Every few hundred years he was required to obtain new ones when the old ones died, so he rarely bothered to learn their names. It was simply too much trouble to keep track of them.
He raised a brow in silent inquiry.
The servant bowed lower. "Forgive me, Lord Sesshomaru," the servant squawked, catching onto his transgression quicker than his last predecessor had. "I beg forgiveness for the interruption, but the humans have readied their sacrifices."
It was a tedious affair, but an expected one to oversee the humans as they sacrificed to him in the hopes he'd offer them his blessing for their next battle.
With an air of resignation he couldn't entirely suppress, he stood and stepped down from his throne and left his temple, accompanied by his two white war hounds. Unlike mortal ones, his were of immortal stock and thus did not require replacement.
Uhn and Ahn had been with him for nearly a millennia. The names had been chosen by his first servant and he hadn't seen fit to change it.
When he reached the first steps of his temple, however, he stopped short as he looked down at the scene before him.
Unlike prior wars and armies over the millennia who had sacrificed the opposing army who'd lost, this army had rounded women and children in a terrified, anxious huddle.
His lips immediately thinned. Grown men doing battle understood the cost of failure.
Women and children did not.
There would be no blessing for the sacrifice, for it was no sacrifice at all.
It was a massacre.
As his eyes drifted over the sacrifices with a dispassionate frown, two in particular stood out to him.
Amongst the huddled, terrified masses, one woman stood out for refusing to bow to the whims of her captors. Though the soldiers around her had no qualms about beating their captives, she alone stood proud, sheltering a young preteen with one arm while her other gathered several other children to her. And though the soldiers spared none in their drunken revelry, high on the prize of their victory, she alone ensured those around her took no blows.
She took them all for her.
Why, he wondered, watching her. He had never seen a human act so selfless or with such honor before. He could not help but admire her. She had nothing left to her but her pride and her honor and she was clearly determined not to let them take either from her. Who are you?
She looked up then, her eyes a vibrant blue that seemed to draw him out of the bleak monotony and into a world of color.
Her mouth dropped open and it was then that the realization hit him.
She could see him.
He had been cloaked from mortal eyes and yet she could see him anyway.
"Whoever you are," he murmured quietly to himself, "you are no mere human woman."
He straightened, his mind made up. "Ahn, Uhn, bring the woman to me."
He would deal with the rest himself.
He appeared before the army, allowing his true visage to be seen by the masses as all, even the army's king who had led them into battle, fell to their knees in supplication. Enjoying how they cowered in fear and apprehension before him, he allowed himself to wander amongst them silently as his two dogs found and circled the woman protectively.
"This," he murmured, allowing his voice to carry and resonate over the landscape as only a god's could, "does not please one such as this one." He flared his aura, allowing it to bear down on all of the soldiers.
Some tried valiantly to remain standing in the wake of his displeasure, but most lost instantly, tumbling to the ground in the proper position of respect.
"You will not offer such to this one again," he continued, walking calmly amongst them as he ensured they felt as well as heard his every word. He had no desire for a repeat of this occurrence. "Only those who have participated in battle may be offered."
"No!"
To his surprise, it was the human woman he'd singled out who shouted the word.
Instead of begging his forgiveness for the interruption, she lifted her chin and stared him down as she'd stared the humans down moments before. "No one should have to be sacrificed," she continued, her voice as strong as her expression was imploring.
He appeared before her, lifting her chin so he could stare into her eyes. For a moment, he forgot how it would affect a mortal to stare directly into the eyes of a god. Forgot, as in that moment, he'd wanted her to look at him. To truly see him. "Who are you?" he murmured for her ears alone.
"Kagome." There was a faint blush at her lips but she did not back down. "I run the orphanage. Or I did," she added with a rueful smile, one he found positively enchanting. "All of these children here lived there after they lost their families to war." Her smile faded as she indicated the children with a wave of her hand. "Rin, for instance, has lost her entire family including three older brothers to war."
His gaze drifted momentarily to the preteen at her side.
"Do you know who I am, Kagome?" he asked her, curious. Would she speak to him thus if she knew who he truly was—what he truly was?
She licked her lower lip.
He was riveted by the movement. For the first time in centuries, he felt his interest surge within him.
"You're the god of war," she said quietly. If he had not been a god, he may not have heard it. "I knew who you were the moment I saw you with your war hounds."
He could not contain his surprise. She had seen his hell hounds as well? "You are an oracle," he murmured, watching her carefully though he was certain of his guess. His mother ruled over those with Sight, chose who she blessed, but he was certain he sensed his mother's touch within her being.
She flushed again. "I didn't ask to be..."
"Hnn." He eyed her for another moment and then came to a decision. "Come with me," he urged her quietly, "and I will ensure there are no further sacrifices."
She pursed her lips for a moment. "What about the children?" she asked quietly. "I'm responsible for them."
He glanced down, eying the children who had huddled around Kagome as though she were the only being that mattered at all and his heart softened. As he studied them, the girl Kagome had singled out, Rin, glanced at him and quietly reached out to offer him a small sliver of bread.
His resistance crumpled at the gesture. "The children may come," he said though he had no idea what he'd do with over a dozen children. He suspected he'd be relying on Kagome to tend to them.
Kagome smiled, her expression soft and caring and he found himself wishing that expression was solely for him and not simply for the children she cared for. "Okay."
When she reached out to touch his upper arm, she gasped her eyes becoming milky and he knew she was having a vision. Moments later, the cloudiness left her eyes and she offered him a brilliant smile as she pulled herself and her children into snuggle up to a being who had, until that moment, never been hugged before in his life.
"Take us home, Sesshomaru," she murmured softly.
With a command to end the sacrifices, he did just that. It was only when they'd all disappeared from mortal sight and appeared in his realm beyond the temple that he realized he'd never once told Kagome his personal name.
The smile she offered him then was full of the promise of more.