Alright... my next one.
Disclaimer: This is not my usual writing style!
Millennia Gone
By Valandar the Red
Tokyo sat alone and unremembered in the countryside. Pillars of
concrete that once supported freeways, walkways, and even buildings lay
toppled against each other, supported by collapsed and rusting steel
beams. The glass had long ago evaporated in the conflagration that had
ended the lives of countless millions. Here, Man no longer ruled;
instead, Nature had taken over.
Through this maze of ghosts, two figures trudged through what had
once been Shinjuku. The first traveler was a man of perhaps twenty,
were one to judge by appearances, wearing a homespun red tunic, black
breeches, and calf-high boots. His jet black hair hung down in bands in
front that covered his brilliant blue eyes, and in back was pulled back
into a braid that he had draped over the heavy pack he wore. No weapons
adorned his hip, nor did any armor drape over his shoulders. Behind him
came a young lady, who had seen only a little over eighteen summers,
with black hair that shone almost blue, and dark eyes that lit up
whenever she gazed at her more stoic companion. She wore a white tunic
over dark blue breeches, and she carried both a sword on her hip, and
an old daikyu on her back. Her own pack was not as massive as the young
man's, but still demonstrated her own prodigious strength.
"Hey, Wild Horse?" she asked.
"Hm?"
"When we get to the next village, will you marry me?" Her voice
carried a lilt in it as if she was trying to pretend the question was
just a joke, but couldn't quite pull it off.
"No."
"Oh." Eyes cast down on the ground, she asked under her breath,
"Why?"
"Look, Violante, I've told you why. I can't love anyone else, ever
again. Not after... her..." The young man, Wild Horse, began watching
their surroundings, not so much looking at the ruined buildings, as
looking through them. "We... we're approaching an area that was known
as Nerima-ku, way back then."
"Nerima-ku? What did that mean on Old Japanese ?"
"Horse-training grounds. I lived here for five years... before the
Cataclysm."
Violante whistled. "Wow, I knew you were old... but before the
cataclysm? That was, what, a thousand years ago?"
"One thousand, thirty two years," he answered mechanically. He
paused, as the ruins became fainter, and they reached the epicenter of
the Doom of Tokyo. Standing there, his thoughts drifted back more than
ten centuries. "Aishiteru, Akane..."
"What?" asked the girl.
"N-nothing. It was something in Old Japanese." A peal of thunder
rang out overhead. "Great. Rain. And there's nowhere for several miles
for cover."
"Um... yeah." She started ahead of him, and waited for a moment so
that he could catch up. "Did... did you have your curse back then?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
Drip, drip, drip. Patter, patter, patter.
"H... how did you.. er, how did you become, um, undying?" The rain
slicked her hair down, and streamed down her face. Unconsciously, she
licked her lips, and tasted the tang of the tainted water. Realizing
what he had done, she spat it out almost immediately.
"It was an attempt to cure my curse. I wanted to do it for her,
because I really didn't care anymore. Not much, anyway." At some point
in the past few minutes, Wild Horse had crossed the threshold from damp
to wet, and a familiar change had taken place. Where a young man stood,
now stood a young lady. She was considerably shorter, with red hair,
and a figure that most women would kill for. The expression on her face
had not changed, however.
"Oh. How did it happen?"
"The curse? Or the immortality?" countered Wild Horse.
"Um... the immortality?"
"Violante, you've been following me for four years. This is the
first time you've ever asked me about my past. Why?"
The dark-haired girl waved her finger at him. "Oh, no. Don't you
go changing the subject on me! Er, that is... I understand it's
probably hard to talk about back then, but I want to know! I want to
know everything about you."
"Because you love me?"
"..."
"Mm. Those two girders - we can stretch our cloaks between them,
and get some shelter from this rain."
"Then you'll tell me?" asked Violante.
"Yes, then I'll tell you."
******************
Above them, thunder rolled, and the gentle spring rain became a
heavy downpour. "Well," said Wild Horse, "we got undercover just in
time. Too bad we can't start a fire and dry ourselves out, but that can
wait."
"Um, what if you catch cold?" asked Violante.
"I can't. I can't get any disease."
"Oh, yeah. Right. Um, what if I catch cold?"
"You won't. Your chi is too healthy... at least, it has been since
you've been training under me."
The dark-haired girl thought for a moment. "Y'know, you're right!
I haven't been sick since about three months after I started tagging
alo... er, training under you. Wait a minute - you promised you'd tell
me how you became immortal!"
Wild Horse sighed. "Yes, immortal. The worst of all my curses."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Anyway, I had the water curse, to become female. It
was horrible. Because of a suicide pact my father had made, along with
a promise to make me a 'man-among-men', I had to hide from my own
mother for my first six months in Nerima. She eventually found out, and
understood, but it didn't make those first six months any easier. Then,
also... there was her.
"We fought all the time, and I thought for the longest time that
she hated me. Slowly, we started to warm up to each other... until the
day I almost lost her."
"To another guy?" asked Violante.
"To death."
"Oh."
"I realized that I had been in love with her since a few weeks
after I had met her. But I couldn't marry her, not in my own mind, not
yet. Not until I was a whole man. So I went a little crazy, following
every possible rumor for a cure to my curse. On some of these, she went
with me, while on others, she stayed home. It was one of the ones she
stayed home for that I was cursed a final time."
"I don't understand," said the younger girl, "why is immortality
such a curse?"
"Be patient, Violante."
"Hey, old man, no one's more patient than you. You've had too much
experience!" She grinned, hoping to cheer her companion's mood.
The immortal sighed. "Once I've finished with my story, you'll
understand. Anyway, I was alone, in the mountains of China. That's what
the mainland to the northwest was originally called.
"I had heard of a cave, inhabited by the remnants of one of the
old gods, who would grant a single wish to any that could alleviate his
suffering. It took almost a year, but I finally found the cave."
"And he couldn't remove the curse?" asked Violante.
"No. In fact, we found out together what was the only way to
alleviate his torment. Shang Ti, the supreme god of the Chinese, had
cursed him to torment for crimes that offended even the Yama Kings of
Hell. Since he was immortal, the only way to end his suffering was to
take away his immortality." Wild Horse sighed. "I was raised what was
known as a martial artist, and taught a code of honor since birth. Part
of that code was to always help those in need."
"And that's why we go to the villages, and help them ready
themselves in case of bandit attack?"
"Yes. And it's why I asked Shang Ti to impose upon me the
tormented god's immortality. Even though I knew what it would mean. I
left that cave, and returned to Tokyo, and asked... her... to marry
me."
"Did she say yes?" asked the black-haired girl.
"Yes. We had all of three, wonderful weeks together. Then, some
lunatic just to the west of here got his hands on weapons that could
destroy cities. He launched them off pretty much at random, from roving
launchers scattered all over the mainland. Not knowing who was at
fault, everybody launched their weapons of death, and more than five
and a half billion people died in a single week.
"I was holding... her... when it happened. We had just found out
that she was pregnant, and our respective fathers were celebrating with
a little too much sake. That was an old form of wine, made from rice.
Anyway... the house was at the center of the blast."
Violante put her hand to her mouth, eyes widening, as she realized
the implications. Wild Horse continued. "I held her, as the heat of a
thousand suns turned the world around me into ash. Both of us were
evaporated, and all of Nerima was turned into glass. The past several
centuries shattered that glass, and turned it into the sand we're
sitting on."
"Y-you were vaporized?"
"Yes. It took me more than twenty years to come back from that.
But, when it did, I screamed aloud for about a week." She shrugged.
"Then, I started travelling, and fully understood what I thought I had
when I took the tormented god's immortality. Now, get your bedroll out
of your pack. It's getting dark, and this rain doesn't look like it's
going to let up any time soon."
******************
Two days later, the ancient young man and his teenaged companion
walked into a small village. About fourteen or fifteen huts of cane and
rice paper huddled around a central hut, slightly larger than the rest.
Perhaps ten women, and half again as many children, wandered between
the huts, going about their own business or playing impromptu games.
None of the men seemed to be present, but they could perhaps be at work
in the fields with the older children.
"So, these are the guys who sent you the message?" asked Violante.
"Yep."
"Have you ever been here before?"
"No."
"Oh." She watched her feet for a moment. "Um... have you ever
thought of settling down with, um, someone? Just resting in a village
until your family is bigger than one of those old cities?"
"No."
"... not even with me?"
"Please, Violante, we've been over this. I can't love anyone, ever
again. All it'll bring me is pain."
"So you want me to drop the subject?"
"Yes. Let's go to the central hut, and see if the mayor, or
hetman, or whatever the top guy's calling himself, is there." Nodding
to the inhabitants, who cast them wary glances, they approached the
larger hut.
Opening the door, Wild Horse and Violante saw four men engrossed
in a low-voiced debate. "I tell you, I've heard of this Wild Horse.
They say he saved the village forty miles up the coast when the
Blackskulls attacked! And all he asks is food," said a man of thirty,
dressed in muted grays.
"Food, yes! All the food of the village," grumbled a portly,
middle-aged man in dark blue. "They say he eats as much, no, more than
his namesake!"
"Now, now," interrupted the young traveler, "I don't eat that
much."
"Huh?" The four men stood, and bowed slightly. "Well," said a tall
elderly man in dark green, "since he's here, it would seem impertinent
to ask him to leave." A secret smile crossed his face.
"What?" How do you know that's really him?" asked the man in blue.
"Because I have met him once," answered the ancient man.
"Little Atana?" asked Wild Horse, his eyes narrowing. "Kami, man,
it's been, what, seventy years?"
Embracing the man he hoped would save their village, the old man
laughed. "Yes, Wild Horse. I still remember when I lived back near the
mountains, and you stopped those Garan-lok. Your face has been burned
into my memory all these years."
"Feh," said the fourth man, a sallow-faced man in his sixties.
"This stripling could not be the same as the one you encountered. A
grandson, perhaps, but not the same man."
Violante started to argue, but Wild Horse raised his hand. "If it
pleases you to think so. But, remember, truth is subjective in this
world. Now, what is the problem?"
The man in gray motioned for the rest to sit, and coughed. "It's
the Blackskulls. They've moved down this way, and have attacked twice
last season alone. We've heard about how you train people to defend
themselves, and help them against bandits, and we need your help."
"Blackskulls again, huh? Does Hirikan still lead them?"
"No. When you beat him up the coast, his men decided that it was
his fault, and killed him. Darakoth leads them now."
"How long ago was the last attack?" asked the black-haired girl.
"I can agree to Wild Horse aiding us," groused the sallow-faced
man, "but who is this impertinent girl?"
"She's my partner, and student," said Wild Horse. "If you question
her abilities or judgement, then you question my teaching. If you
question my teaching, then you don't need me." He started to stand up,
and leave.
"Oh, Wild Horse, sit down. We both know you won't leave unless
Morran there gets downright offensive, and he's too smart to do that."
Glancing at the sallow-faced man, Atana continued, "At least, I hope he
is."
Before they could continue, however, a scream rose up outside.
"Dammit, they're here already?" asked the man in gray. "All of the men
besides us are in the fields!"
Wild Horse shrugged as he sprang to his feet. "That's the way
these people do things. Violante, come on, we've got work to do!"
Before he had fully finished the last word, he was out of the hut,
sprinting in the direction of the scream, the black haired girl only
half a step behind.
In the distance, they could see a dust cloud, a banner of a black
goat skull painted on a red background clearly visible. Wild Horse
grabbed his charge's shoulder. "You start picking them off, I'm gonna
round up the villagers!"
Nodding, Violante unlimbered her bow, and began to draw arrows
from one tunic sleeve. "Gotcha! Sure glad you taught me those hidden
weapons techniques!" With a half-breath pause, a clothyard shaft
covered the two hundred yards to the cloud, and the faint sound of a
scream carried back to her the news that her arrow had hit its mark. In
one smooth motion, another arrow appeared, and sped on its way.
Behind her, Wild Horse was grabbing women and children at random,
and practically shoving them into the central hut. It was too late for
any men in fields to the north, if there were any, but the children
were the future of the village. Glancing back, he nodded approvingly,
as many of the Blackskulls would raid no more. He turned back to his
own task, and shut the door behind the last group of children.
"Hey, Wild Horse," Thunk! "we don't have much time before they
close! Got," Thunk! "enough time for one of your magic blasts?"
Her answer was a burst of yellow energy, burying into the ground
just ahead of the horde. At the close range the horde was at now, she
could see several horses stumble on the crater, or rear, throwing their
riders in panic. But, it wasn't enough, and the banner of the leader
was in the rear. "This is gonna be a tough one," said the immortal.
"Yeah, I mean, " Thunk! "they must," Thwok! "have.. a..." The
black-haired girl slumped to the ground, a crude arrow protruding from
her right breast.
"Violante?" Wild Horse stared dumbly at his partner as she slid
into unconsciousness. Without thinking, he shattered the shaft of an
incoming arrow, and then everything became red.
Those inside the central hut who could reach a window would never
forget the display of speed, power, and skill they beheld that day, for
it would live in both their dreams and their nightmares. A single fist
would knock a man forty feet out of the saddle, onto the spear of his
fellow. Blasts of what had to be magic incinerated bandits, and
tornadoes sprang up in a clear sky. A sweep of his arms, and a bandit
sixty feet away fell into four, neatly sliced pieces. A horse at full
gallop was stopped cold by one hand upon its breast, and then hurled
many yards away without effort.
Unfortunately for Wild Horse, his rage was so all-consuming that
he was not able to pay full attention to his foes. One managed to move
around behind him, and, with a single swipe of a broad-bladed sword,
removed his head from his shoulders, and it came to rest twenty feet
away.
The body of the immortal shuddered for a moment, then the head
screamed soundlessly, without lungs to provide voice. The body lashed
out, shattering the skull of his assailant, and continued its swath of
carnage. Confronted by this horrific sight, the remaining bandits broke
and ran, screaming obscenities in fear of the "demon".
The battle, over, Wild Horse's body walked over to his head, and
gingerly placed it back upon his neck. The thin seam actually sealed
itself, and he carefully made his way to his fallen companion. The
arrow had pierced a lung, and cut an artery along the way. Nothing he
could do could save her.
"R-Ranma?" she asked.
Wild Horse gasped in shock. That was his old name, in Ancient
Japanese! "Y-yes?"
Violante coughed. "W-where's... P-chan? I swear... that pig...
gets almost as... lost... as... Ryouga..."
The voice that was Violante's, and wasn't, pierced Wild Horse to
the core. "Oh, um, y'know, he's around somewhere."
"G-good... Ran... ma, ... I love... y..." With that, her eye
glazed over, and the light faded.
Saotome Ranma screamed that day, in a rage unfelt in a thousand
years. And, to the inhabitants of that tiny village, it was that scream
of grief that was the most horrible event of that day.
******************
Ranma knelt by a fresh grave. On the grave was only a simple
stone, into which he had carved the simple name, Violante. His tears
wet the earth, and his hands smoothed the earth over the grave.
"You returned to me once, and I held you away from me," he
whispered. "Perhaps you will return to me again. This time, I promise,
I won't turn you away."
Author's notes:
Well... I really don't know where this one came from, except to
prove that I don't just write spamfics. I also don't know how to
quantify this, except perhaps "Sadfic" with a little hope. Lemme know
what you think!
=====
- Valandar the Red of the Empty Tankard
Captain of the Guard of the Barony of the Far Woods
Empire of the Iron Mountains
and Ruler of the Spammish Main
http://Valandar.tripod.com/Hello.html
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