Forest Guardian (Shaman King AU; Nichrom x OC)

[CiCiArts]

Elk roamed this forest, untouched by man, unfettered by civilization encroaching upon their territory. Trees of lush green built a shady canopy filled with birds and their serene songs, rivers flowed clear and clean and flush with salmon, waterfalls roared in their majesty and grace. She stood over her herd, watchful eyes scanning the wildflowers for predators, attuned ears listening intently for any abnormal sounds.

Nothing out of the ordinary peaked the interest of those senses. Yet the most important sense of them all, her intuition, sounded the alarm. Something was amiss. Something not even the insects noticed as they chirped and buzzed about their daily chores.

She trotted around the perimeter where her herd grazed in peace. All the female elk ate and chirped without a care, trusting her to keep them safe. Even the bull grazed, though he, too, obeyed his instincts to keep the herd safe, his head on a swivel and surveying their surroundings. No more calves would die as long as she remained by their side. No more mothers would be killed in the hunt, leaving starving babies to be abandoned for the survival of the herd.

Amidst her resolute thoughts and the flowing water, she heard it. Across the way, grass had been disturbed by a heavy footfall. Her hooves beat the ground as she rushed toward the noise. Her herd barked and sounded the alarm to run.

The intruder's feet trampled the grasses as whoever it was attempted to flee, but she honed in on the sounds. As she broke through the brush and between thick tree trunks, she came face to face with a young man, his long braid flying behind him as he tried to escape.

But she was faster and snagged the end of his hair in her mouth. She threw him back as though he was nothing more than a pebble. In his hands, he held what she feared: a weapon. A bow and arrow with a quiver full of destruction upon his back.

She bellowed and reared back upon her hind legs. He tried to ready his bow, but hardly nocked an arrow before her hooves battered the weapon away. Around his torso, buried within the fur of another beast's pelt, was a sheath. The metal scraped, harsh in her ears and rattling along her teeth as he brandished a knife.

The steel met her antlers, clashing in a battle of strength. She easily overpowered his arms and bashed the weapon away. Her hooves stamped deep prints in the wiry grass. A bugle erupted from her throat and the man slapped his ears over the intense, high-pitched squeal. He held up his wrist, whereupon a sort of bracelet rested, and on it was a golden scorpion.

The scorpion glowed bright and burst forth upon his arm, huge as the young man and colored an ethereal white. Its large pincers attempted to grab her but she quickly shifted her shape to a falcon. Her smaller form's wingbeats thrust her backward and away from the man's ghost guardian.

Not only was the man in her midst and a savage hunter, he was a shaman. A fury ignited within her, flooding her veins like magma. His shocked face watched her fly high, but those wide eyes didn't last long. They narrowed into slits as he tried to keep her within his sights. She'd happily pluck those eyes right from his skull.

With a wail that pierced the sky, she dive bombed him at speeds that thrust the air out around her. He flung his scorpion arm, the tail thrusting out toward her, missing her by inches. Now on top of him, she shifted once more. Her small body erupted into a grizzly bear, brown fur flying as she landed atop him. Her paw held the scorpion's tail against the ground, rendering the stinger useless.

The man's green eyes gazed up at her. She observed them, readying her paw. Yet she saw within those eyes the same pleading look she'd seen from calves. That look of begging for companionship, full of hope and fear and… within this man's eyes, something different altogether.

"You're a spirit," he said, voice breathless and soft toned.

Her muscles tensed, ready to batter his face and kill him, but his eyes. She'd let die so many with that look in their eyes. She… she couldn't do it again. Against her better judgment, she stepped back, her large bear form pounding the earth beneath her. She grunted and growled.

"Please," he said, struggling back to his feet, "Guardian of the Forest. My friend needs help. He's dying. I was only hunting your elk because he's starving—"

She shot to her hind legs and roared. He held his arms out, that scorpion shrinking down against his bracelet once more. As they stared at one another, the man lowered his arms, hands outstretched, and knelt upon the ground. He put his hands in his lap, palms up toward her.

"Please, Forest Guardian," he said, bowing his head. "Please help us."

She scrutinized him, waiting for his next move. If he dared even try to attack, she would happily split his spine in two. But he stayed like that: head bowed, hands shown, knelt upon the ground, small and submissive, pleading and passive.

Her front paws lowered to the grass. He remained still. She stood there, waiting for him to look up to her again. When he did, their eyes met, and she searched for any reason not to believe him. Any treachery, deceit, twisted truth, or scathing lie. Yet there was none. Just big green eyes that begged for help.

He slowly got to his feet, careful every step of the way, stopping now and again to see her reaction. She waited. Then when he stood, he turned to walk toward his fallen companion, and she followed after. He looked over his shoulder at her and she stared at his back, ensuring that his hands weren't reaching for his hip or into that pelt.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," he said. "I mean your forest no harm."
She grunted her acknowledgment of his words.

His camp wasn't far from the clearing wherein her herd had grazed. Within nearly a mile of silent walking, she smelled a scent of wet animal pelts and cut wood. She recognized it as the smell of human encampment. However, the smell was so faint, there couldn't have been more than two tents set up, if even that. And it must've been relatively fresh, as not even the smell of human's fire reached her nose.

"We just got here this morning," he said, probably noticing her sniffing and snorting. "We wanted to keep going but my friend just couldn't continue on. He collapsed and I had to set up camp around him. I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to disturb this forest."

But, for once, it was not man who disturbed her forest. No, these were not the predators she'd been looking for, and the farther they ventured, the more she kept looking over her shoulder and trying to keep a nose on her herd. But if helping the humans meant getting them out of the forest, then that's what she needed to do. Especially if both of the men were shamans.

The forest went on as usual, as though nothing was amiss. Bugs zipped past, rabbits ran back to their burrows, and birds swooped overhead toward mates or nests. All the while, the man with the golden brown skin led her to his campsite, composed and unthreatening. His hormones were without a hint of adrenaline. It kept her calm enough to keep up.

___

a/n: I don't know a lot about Shaman King (nor threadmarks). But I really love Nichrom a lot, his design and attitude, and wanted to give one of my original characters time to shine before attempting to work on an original story. Figured Nichrom was a good trial run.

 

[CiCiArts]

Over brush and thicket that broke from her hefty footsteps and powerful legs, the two came upon a small clearing where the grass was flattened and a small patchwork tent resided. The pelts were smudged in dirt and stained with water, increasing the bestial smell which made it harder to detect, but also less safe for the humans to live in. A strong mildew scent permeated the air, making her nose crinkle.

"This is it," said the man. "I know it's not much. He should be inside, resting."

The moment he opened the tent flap, the stench of illness assaulted her. Judging by the breathing pattern, there was indeed only one other man.

She poked her head into the tent to see the young man having a seat beside an older, very large, very muscular man, his wild hair spread around him like untamed brush. The older man laid there, sweat dripping down his face, his chest heaving with breath. She smelled the infection coming off of him, a sickness pouring from his mouth like miasma and infesting the mildewed tent. The man's brown skin seemed dull and pale, his lips lacking color, his cheeks caved in to bring out the bone structure of his face—somewhere between human and skeletal.

"Magna," said the young man, "I've brought a Forest Guardian. He can help us."

The older man did not respond, did not even open his eyes. The younger man retrieved a rag from a small clay bowl beside him, wrung it out, and tried to dab the fever away with the cooling water. As she watched, she smelled deterioration and death within him. He had mere days to live.

Much like the fearful gazes of dying calves, there was nothing she could do for him. She turned and left the tent to head back to her herd. As her feet plodded along the flattened grass, she heard the tent flap fly open.

"Wait!" called the young man. "You haven't even tried to help! Am I supposed to just believe there's nothing you can do?"

She continued forward, her ears pinned back. The man caught up to her side. His hand touched her fur, making her skin crawl and her mind race in horror. She whipped around, standing tall in her fury, looming over the man who took a step back. But he didn't falter. He stared into her eyes, pleading yet resolute. She couldn't continue looking into those big green eyes.

Her shape morphed back into an elk and she took off, using her nose as a guide. The man continued the chase. So he was going to chase her? He'd need a lot of skill and luck.

She dodged around trees, over fallen logs, through thorny brush, and kicked up mud along the riverbank. Behind a thick tree trunk, she watched and waited. Her ears pricked and twitched as she analyzed every sound. His heavy breathing came first, followed by hard footfalls and rustling leaves as he leapt between trees. He must've gone up high to watch her from a distance.

His form jumped from the canopy onto the muddy riverbank. He gazed around the area, bare chest moving in and out alongside hard breaths. Down upon a knee, he searched the ground for signs of her. It was no issue for him to find her hoofprints and see the direction they headed. When he gazed up to his destination, their eyes met. From that distance, he squinted to ensure that he was really seeing her.

She stepped out of her hiding spot. The man had tracked her for over a mile, easily. He had no weapons in his hand, but that quiver and bow were strapped to his back, and at least one knife may have been hidden somewhere on his person. He kept his hands by his sides.

"Is this a test?" he demanded. "I don't have time for this. If you won't help me then I'll have to hunt in these woods to survive. So unless you plan on helping or stopping me, then what do we even have to say to each other?"
She watched him, head high and ears pinned, giving him naught but a snort.
"I'm done playing games! Answer me!"

If he truly wanted answers, if he was to truly see his predicament as it was, then she had no choice. Her body morphed once more, glowing bright as the sun and forcing his arm to block his eyes. Next he looked at her, his mouth fell open.

Her true form appeared before him, one she hadn't seen in many years. She could no longer remember her hair color, though she was certain her eyes were brown. Her clothes had been tattered in places, smudged in others—a once pretty dress now stained and ruined.

"You're… human?"
"I was," she replied, voice rasped from disuse, odd in her ears.
He lifted his bracelet skyward again.
"Typical shaman," she said, "so eager to fight."
"You tried to fight me, too."
"I was protecting those I care about."
"And so am I!"
"Your friend is dying."
"Then help him!"
"No."

His teeth grit and his eyes held palpable fury. He lifted his arm skyward and his bracelet shone brightly. That golden scorpion skittered along it before ballooning as large as his torso.

"If you're a spirit," he said, "then you can be tamed."
Her aura brightened though her voice held onto that calmness. "I will never be tamed by a shaman."

But she didn't wish to fight, either. Her home was in danger by this man and his ill friend. All she had to do, though, was outlast the sick man, thwart the shaman at every turn, and he'd soon have no choice but to surrender. When he did, she would happily show him the way out.

Her floating form leapt higher into the air toward the rushing of the river. She dropped toward the surface and changed into a speedy pike. His footsteps sloshed in the water behind her before his sounds were gone and she and the current pushed her downstream. Once she knew he was no longer behind her, she breached the water's surface and shifted into a falcon, whereupon her speedy wings delivered her to her untouched herd.

But she couldn't stay here with that man hanging about. She'd have to go back and forth, keep a nose on him, ensure his hunting attempts were unsuccessful—all while keeping her animals safe from what was attacking and killing them.

 

[CiCiArts]

In the morning, she flew toward the encampment and watched from afar. The young man gathered his supplies, including his bow and arrows, and took them out into the wilderness. He looked over his shoulders—along the ground, up in the skies—clearly searching for her but unable to find her peregrine form. As he walked, he kept low, sneaking behind brush and stalking his prey. He kept fallen leaves in his hair and any dirt that smudged him was left to cover his scent.

When he came upon a group of deer, he took aim at their stag. Despite the stag's perked ears and swiveling neck, he was none the wiser that a hunter was in his midst. Her wings outstretched, and the young man nocked back an arrow. As it took flight, so, too, did she. Her talons snagged the arrow in midair. She let out a wail of victory and defiance, and the chaos forced the deer to flee from the area.

The young man watched her with intense eyes as she swooped onto a branch above him. Her powerful legs jabbed the arrowhead into the wood, then her sharp beak snapped the shaft and threw it at his feet. He stared at her, eyes drooping with dark bags that not even his smudged red paint could hide, yet sturdy and determined like an immovable mountain.

He turned around and left in silence. But she would not be so easily deceived.

Later that afternoon, the young man crouched behind a rabbit den, staying so still and silent. She stood proud atop the hill in her wolven form, observing and waiting. A little rabbit poked her head up to scan her surroundings. She pulled herself out of the den, nose and ears twitching but unable to sense the young man. While she bounced out of the den in search of grass to graze, the young man lifted a spear.

She howled into the sky, frightening the rabbit back into her den just as the spear jabbed where she once stood. The entire forest returned the howl—wolves joining the chorus, animals fleeing for safety, and the chaotic flight patterns of spooked birds. She stared down at the man who spotted her and watched. Those bags deepened, oppressive and heavy, but that fire inside of him never ceased.

By the time the sun touched the horizon and the moon began to stake its claim, she found the young man collecting water at the riverbank by his camp. Her bear form plodded up the way on the other side of the shore.

"What?" he demanded. "Am I not allowed to drink water, either?"
She sat and grunted.

Eyeing her, he scooped the water into a small sack, took several large gulps from it, and ensured it was full once more. She watched him as he tied it off. She didn't mind him drinking of her forest's water, as long as he took only what he needed and did not pollute the streams and rivers. Despite the dirt caking him and his hair, he did not bathe in her river aside from cleansing his hands. Given his friend's illness, it was no surprise he didn't wish to contaminate his campsite further.

What was a surprise, however, was the way he bowed his head at her. "Thank you, Guardian of the Forest."

He got to his feet and seemed ready to head back when a rumble reverberated throughout the land. She shot to her paws and roared at the sound—that sound which had caused death and destruction for so many years. In a few long strides, she shifted her body to that of a falcon and flew up high.

Her keen eyes scanned over the forest, between divots in the trees, over hills and dell, until she spotted it: that dark mass which plagued her forest. She cried out her presence and sped toward the malicious spirit. Its body was like sludge that dripped along the land, black and viscous and reeking of death and soot.

She bolted toward the mass, dagger-like talons readied before her. She went through its body, splattering that turbid sludge across the ground. She landed upon a branch to face the monster. Within its horrid body, visible only through the gash, was the skeletal face of a fawn. Nearby, another fawn cowered upon the ground. The baby was frozen in terror but still alive.

The beast rolled its slimy form over the smatterings on the ground, fusing once more with itself. A long, arm-like limb jutted toward her like a battering ram. Her wings beat the air and jetted her away from the attack. Its limb squished and split along the tree branch before slopping onto the ground, releasing those horrible reeking fumes. She landed and transformed into an elk, using her antlers to bash the monster away. But it had other plans besides her. Insatiable, starving, the beast slid along the ground like a corrupted slug, leaving a sticky trail of goop behind. It headed for the fawn who stayed stuck in place.

She bugled and charged the mass, bashing through its middle and getting covered in its soot-sludge. But it carried on unbothered, drinking back up those bits of itself and repairing the damage with ease. She faced it again and reared back onto her hind legs. The stomps and kicks did nothing to stop it. It thrust another battering ram-like arm at her, bashing her in the throat and flinging her aside. She skid across the ground, grasses and rocks scraping along her fur.

She shot to her hooves, shifting to a mountain lion in a burst of speed. Snarling and screaming, she unleashed her fury with vicious claws. The sludge splattered around as it flinched back. Yet it wasn't enough. Its opposite arm flung around and connected with her chest. She shot through the air, flipping and scrambling to land on her feet, but the wind blew past her at angles she couldn't comprehend until the hard trunk of a tree stopped her flight.

Dazed and trying to regain her senses, her quivering legs pushed her up. That monster stood before the frozen fawn. She screamed at the fawn, hoping it would frighten her to run, but she stayed there with doe-eyes, fear so palpable that it suffocated the air. The monster lifted its front half off the ground. Its shadow engulfed the fawn as it prepared itself for another meal.

Before it could swallow the fawn whole, a flash of purple light zipped past, snatching the fawn in its wake. Beside her, the light came to a stop. That shaman stood with the fawn in his arms. His legs were covered in locust-like armor which gave off that same purple glow.

On his arm, the scorpion rose its tail high, protecting the shaman as he placed the fawn behind him. The mass stared on, dripping viscous goo onto the ground. It flinched back when he pulled out his bow and grabbed an arrow. When he nocked the arrow, the scorpion's golden glow intensified.

With the twang of his bow, three arrows heralded from one, all bathed in that soft yellow. The three arrows sliced through the mass and burned holes into its body. It slid back, undulating and pulsing over the lost pieces of itself. Those holes became smaller and smaller, but three more took their place by the light of the shaman's arrows. Yet the beast collected those smatterings, too.

From the sky, a shadow engulfed them. She looked up, finally back on her feet, and saw the silent flight of an owl. This white as snow owl glowed in its spiritual energy and swooped toward them.

"This isn't going down easy, Magnescope," said the man as the owl hovered above him.
The owl let out a cry.
"Go protect Magna! Don't worry about us!"

But that owl had immense power. Its aura radiated through her, sending a wave of goosebumps across her flesh. Before the owl flew away, she let out a shriek to get its attention. The understanding in their eyes was instant. The owl dove toward her and its white energy melded with her blue. Just as the monster recovered the last bit of its fetid body, her soul and the owl combined into one.

Her mountain lion form shifted—elongating her body, sprouting wings where her forelegs had been. Her tail burst with feathers and her claws curved into scimitar-like talons at the tips of her wings. She slinked upon her hind legs and wings, talons digging divots into the dirt. Burning and painful power flooded her veins like fire. She had to act now or the fusion would prove too intense.

Speed unparalleled exploded out of her. In the blink of an eye, her razor talons slashed her enemy, swiping at a pace that splattered sooty chunks of the monster all around the yellow grasses. Something between a lion scream and an owl screech ripped out of her throat. Inside of her, the owl and herself were battling one another, trying to find equilibrium even as they tore hunks out of the monster.

Several more glowing arrows whizzed past her, seeming to converge onto a single point like sentient entities. They concentrated on the top half of the malicious beast as she decimated the bottom to sludgy ribbons. Another speedy arrow burst through it, splattering the ground with that foul ink, marring the beauty of the natural world with such an abomination.

But the beast, much smaller now, didn't stick around to combine with its fallen bits. Instead, it all fizzled into smoke, inundating the clearing with its familiar scent of flames and burning, before it zipped away just as fast as it came, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

Panting, standing on quivering legs, she let herself detangle from the owl. It flew from her body and landed upon the shaman's shoulder. Its chest, too, was heaving. Her mountain lion form took over yet again and her body threatened to go limp from exhaustion.

Her heavy tail thumped against the ground as she had no energy to lift it. And barely enough energy to look back at the shaman, who knelt down and comforted the shivering fawn. She observed him for a moment, taking in his gentle voice and reassuring words.

"You're okay now," he said to the fawn. "It won't hurt you while I'm here. You're safe."

The fawn poked her head up and her little white tail flicked. She chirped at him as if to thank him. But… From the corner of her eye, she saw the lifeless, emaciated corpse of the fawn's brother. She headed for the body, her form shifting into a wolf. The young man approached, putting away his bow.

She sat beside the body and looked down upon it. If it hadn't been for his skeletal features, his face would've looked peaceful and calm. The shaman knelt beside the body and ran his hand across the fawn, fingers following the divots of his ribs, the shaman's face falling in disgust, revulsion, and sorrow.

She looked skyward and howled to the heavens. The fawn's soul would not reveal itself. It could not. For, as she knew, its innocent soul had been devoured by that abomination.

 

[CiCiArts]

Once her howling ceased, she noticed the young man had his head bowed as if joined in her prayer. He looked up at her.

"I'm so sorry, Forest Guardian. This is an awful thing to do to an innocent being. What was that monster?"

Her wolven eyes observed him. That fawn hopped up to him and leaned against him for comfort. Despite putting his arm around the fawn, he kept his brilliant green eyes on her own. A genuine desire to connect with her shown deep within his gaze. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

But she watched that living fawn nuzzle against the young man, saw the gratitude in her glimmering eyes. He pat and comforted her; either intuitive or skilled, he found the right spot that made the fawn lean into his hand and enjoy the attention. This man saved that fawn's life, knowing he could've been injured or worse. And he deserved to know the truth.

She shifted to her human form and knelt in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch his face.

"Allow me to show you," she said.

Her hands held his jaw and she stared into his green eyes. That stare showed him the past.

A middle aged man defiled a young girl who couldn't have been older than 18. She cried and screamed as he raped and beat her. She shielded him from the vision, but he still saw the movement, heard the screams, witnessed the man beating her to shut her up.

"I was taken to the woods by an evil man," she said as the vision played out. "He did evil things to me, then took my life."

Her strangled coughs and cries gurgled in his hold. When it was over, the man stood, heaving for breath. He brushed himself off and straightened his clothes before turning to leave the forest.

"I cursed him with my dying breaths. As a result, my soul was split in two. The innocent half who simply wanted to be protected…"

Her soul rose from her body and thousands of animal spirits swirled above in a gentle twister of compassion. They funneled down into her, a mix of blues and galactic smoke and stardust. The swirling whipped up a gust that even the man who had no spiritual sense whatsoever turned to see what was happening. As he did, a black sludge dripped off her soul and splattered onto the ground. Like horrid kindling, it sparked.

"And the other half, vengeful and spite-filled, ignited a fire that decimated this clearing."

The flames burst out in a circle of malice. The man screamed but was incinerated to silence. Her other half rose higher and higher into the sky, the aura surrounding her turning to many animals: a roaring bear, a snarling mountain lion, a howling wolf, a hooting owl, a screeching falcon, and so many more before his eyes as the flames danced beneath her. Finally, an explosion of frigid air blasted the ground, taking out the fire. She floated gently to the ground, her bare feet touching the barren forest floor.

She released his face and the vision stopped. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes.

"This is the place where I died," she confirmed. "Where it all began. Where I vowed to protect the innocent animals like I should've been protected." Her hand caressed the poor dead deer. "But instead I've failed. With every battle, that beast takes more and more of me."

Indeed, her dress had even more sludgy stains on it now. She looked at him. His emotions had touched her briefly in their intimate revelation. Fear, shock, disgust—such a man from her vision made him feel sick. And, she thought, perhaps he was not like other men.

"What is your name?" she asked.
"Nichrom."
"Nichrom, I'll make you a deal. I'll heal your fallen friend and allow you to hunt for necessity. But only if you help me rid this forest of my malicious self."

Nichrom's soft, sympathetic eyes turned intent. She felt his courage and determination unwavering, like when he faced that abomination. His answer was clear before he even said it. He held out his hand and they shook on it.

"You've got it."

For the first time, as he relaxed and let this new agreement wash over him, she saw his gentle smile.

"Thank you, Forest Guardian. Do you have a name?"
"I've been called many things. A woman once called me a Wendigo. You call me Forest Guardian. A mother and her child were lost after a man had kidnapped them and did evil things to the woman. He dumped her and her baby. After I healed them, I carried them to safety along the riverbank to a lookout. She called me the Creek Elk. I prefer Creek. Flowing healthy waters full of life, ever changing and growing, always ready to lead you home."
"Then that's what I'll call you. Creek. I'll be forever grateful to you for healing my mentor."

She assumed her deer form and called to the herd to return for their lost fawn. After a moment, a doe leapt out of the brush, then paused when she saw Nichrom. Her fawn trotted up to her, chirping in glee, and they ran off into the forest together.