KUSANAGI-NO-TSURUGI
Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, otherwise called the Heavenly Sword of Gathering Clouds, or simply "Grass Cutter," is a holy relic of both the Orochi and the Ox-Headed God. This sword was created in the days before recorded history, and used by the Orochi to defend its territory, during the ages of the giants and the age of the gods. It would be during the latter, however, that the blade was stolen and turned on its owner, used by the Ox-Headed God to legitimize his claim to the title of Lord of Storms.
In time, the blade would be bestowed to the emperor of the South, as a sign of divine right to rule in the first and second dynasties. Once the second dynasty collapsed, and following the fractured states and unification wars, the blade was enshrined in the city of reeds as an object for veneration, and a reminder of a bygone age of unity.
The sword itself is inherently magical, and has no fixed appearance. In the earliest recorded stories of the Orochi, it was a seven-branched sword made of bronze, and in the hands of the Ox-Headed God it was said to be a sort of two-handed cleaver. This trait is likely because the sword adapts to suit its user's preference, at least on a subconscious level.
The abilities of this weapon are all rooted in control of wind and storms, being capable of generating razor-sharp winds to extend the blade's reach, and summoning storms to sow chaos among foes. It can also calm or stir up the sea, and bring about ruinous monsoons and cyclones at a moment's notice. It does, however, demand a high price for use of these abilities, especially on mortals, who's skin can be flayed from the bone for the act if wielding it without appropriate constitution.
Lilith was silent for a moment. She stood up, wiping his blood from her hands. Her breathing was deep, and shaky. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Venari…"
"Lilith…I'm so sorry." Venari said in a choked whisper.
"What do you mean? He'll be fine, he can heal straight up, right? He just needs to rest!" She began to try to convince herself. "Right Venari! He'll be ok!" Her voice was becoming shrill.
"Lilith…there's only so much anyone can revemerate from. I'm so sorry." She said, kneeling down and closing Dolorem's eyes. Standing up, Venari put her arm around Lilith, but Lilith pulled away, quickly wiping tears from her face, holding back the flood.
"No, he's different from you! He can regrow whole limbs, he'll be fine!" She began to shout.
As his lungs deflated, Dolorem's body released a hollow sigh. Lilith shrieked in panic. "Dolorem, wake up!" She screamed, face contorted with grief. "WAKE UP!"
Venari held Lilith's arm. "Lilith, he's gone."
"No. He can't be. We were supposed to travel, he was going to pass leadership down to Orochimaru, and we'd see the world when he retired." She murmured. "Our future."
"Lilith, I wish I could say something to make it better…" Venari whispered, embracing Lilith as she lost power in her body. She could feel Lilith violently trembling, digging her nails into her arms in an effort to quell the numbness that invaded her limbs. "... But this is just how it is. He only wanted to protect us, and he had to fucking die for it. He was one of the most noble men I've ever seen, and now he's gone forever and there isn't a damn thing we can do."
"I want to leave this place." Lilith whispered hoarsely.
***
The battle was eventually won by the Southern Alliance, who swarmed over the Imperial army after they were routed by the loss of their leader. The troops were pushed back to the border, and an informal truce ensued.
In the days that followed Lilith confined herself to her chambers, barely eating or sleeping. Orochimaru was left in Venari's care. Dolorem's body was washed, and prepared for burial. A small shrine to him was erected by Venari, where candlelight and the gentle glow of incense sticks danced on a portrait of Dolorem, and the petals of white lotus took on an amber glow.
The funeral came and went. Lilith watched silently as Dolorem's shinobi kin swapped stories, and condolences. Dolorem had been laid out, face veiled in white cloth. It wasn't Lilith's husband. It was just a slab of meat now. That body couldn't worry about if he was doing the right thing, nor hold his son. Lilith said very little at all that day, and the eulogy offered by Master Kahn was a blurred mumbling to her. She wanted to be done with the ceremony, the rituals. She wanted to be alone.
Lilith had become a different person. Silent, with haunted eyes. She was tired, in the way that no sleep could remedy, her very soul had been exhausted, drained of whatever spark had once been held within.
Dolorem was placed in a coffin afterward, and taken to the subterranean mausoleum for the House. Lilith left the House of Mist to the shinobi. They'd be safer hands than hers. Their victory over the empire was likely temporary. More invasions would follow, no doubt a zealous fire in their hearts, raised on the ideals of their martyred leaders.
Lilith and Venari both knew that a normal life would be impossible in the South, they'd be hunted without end by Imperial bounty hunters and spies. The House of the Adjudicators was a haven for Lilith, but not Orochimaru. Being of Dolorem's blood, he inherited the Mark of Mist. He was little more than a precious resource to even her own people. Knowledge of his existence had spread, and he'd be targeted by all manner of factions, hoping to take him to raise for their own purposes.
In the end, a decision had to be made. Standing at the gates of the House of Mist, Lilith handed her son, the last connection she had to Dolorem, to Venari. She'd raise him, safe and away from the people and circumstances that killed his father. Coin would be provided, and Irilith raised by Lilith as a scion of the Adjudicators.
A carriage awaited Lilith in the house grounds, Irilith already on board. They were departing that morning.
"I'll look after him as my own, Lilith." Venari had said.
"Thank you, Venari. As much as I hate having to do this, it's the only way he can live a normal life." Was Lilith's response.
"Lilith," Venari said, as Lilith stepped into the carriage.
"Hmm?"
"Take care of yourself."
"Likewise."
***
In time, Dolorem's efforts would be for naught. Almost twenty years to the day after the Battle of Red Pines, the final independent holdout in the South fell to the Imperial Legions, headed by the Son of Manus, Elijah Cranswell, White Lion of the North. The House of Mist was razed to the ground, reduced to rubble. Dolorem's name passed into legend, and legend into half-forgotten myth.
The House of the Adjudicators survived underfoot, cowering deep within the shadows of the region's jagged mountains. Lilith eventually became its ruler, bestowed with the Mark of the Chain, yet her rule saw little progress, nor regression. She had long since lost the will to fight, to risk loss again. She never remarried, spiraling ever deeper into ill health, an affliction of her lungs leeching her vitality day after day.
The empire brought an era of unprecedented stability, but also of unprecedented suffering. The Order of Manus, formed in the name of their long-dead Saint, executed heretics in their droves, without reservation or mercy. Alchemists, Warlocks, Vampires, Shamans, they all hung crucified in forests of circular frames, silent observers of a world without dissenters, without rebellion. Lavos was among them, he had been torn away from his wife, in the dead of night, who was expecting their first child at the time.
Venari would come to join them too, in time, burned at the stake, her fourteen year old son screaming as he was dragged away by Order Soldiers, to be inducted into one of their academies, no doubt thinking they were doing the boy a great charity.
This was the only world Orochimaru knew. The world he would come to hate. How could he not, he was of Dolorem's blood, Lilith's mind and Venari's heart.
The same fires that burned Venari's flesh forged what would become Corvus the Harrowed.
The man who would do what his father couldn't.