http://ccr.dsi.uanl.mx/~gcordova/index.html			Sun Dec 10 1995
gcordova@ccr.dsi.uanl.mx

	Good day. It's a little cold here in Monterrey, but I
finally decided to start a story I had in mind. It's a Ranma
fanfic, all the characters are property of Takahashi Rumiko san
so you know who to thank for them. Me? I just usurped their
lives for a little moment to express some ideas I had
knocking inside my head for a while now.

	A little background. For a while now certain
graphics have been eating CPU cycles in my mind,
specifically, those that show Ranma kun and Ranma chan in the
same image, together. Almost invariable they look quite happy
together. And the questions that started the whole avalanche
are: Who is this pigtailed girl? Is she real? Where does she
live? Isn't Ranma supposed to be angry at her for ruining his
life? Why are these two smiling? 
	The character of the pigtailed girl had me worried.
She looked real, yet she doesn't have a true life since it's
Ranma's life she lives, and that only when he transforms.
What does she do when she's not around? Where did she come
from in the first place? Those are the questions that plagued
my waking and sleeping hours, messed up my appetite, ruined
my concentration during homework, ate my study time, and
worst of all, made me write this.

	So, we will fly in time, to a certain Chinese
province which still has no name, deep into the past...

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Who Are You, Pig Tailed Girl?
Prelude.

	We are in a small valley between high mountain peaks,
the air is chilly, biting, and a soft wind is blowing; a
thick mist permeates the air creating a palpable air of
mystery, creating fear in the hearts of foolish people. The
ground is dotted with waterholes, nobody knows how deep they
are because the only people who have lived nearby are fools,
who are afraid to come. There is no bamboo pole stuck deep in
the center of each one, since the monks who made this field a
martial arts training ground haven't been born yet, not for a
long time.

	It's quiet, eerily so, but then it's always like that
here. Even wild animals keep away, birds don't fly in the
sky. It's a cursed place, it's been like this since the
begining of time; just as there are places of Benign Power,
where people of good nature can rest and recuperate health
and strength, there are other places of Profound Evil, the
necessary counterparts of those places of Good, where Evil
creatures of the Outer Planes, where Powerful Mages of Dark
Inclination can weave powerful Rituals. And, also, there's
the places of Power where neither, or both, Good and Evil
have a foothold. Such places are Chaotic, neither Light
nor Darkness can dominate, and so, random occurances
happen. We won't speculate on the Creation of such places,
or Whom had a hand in their appearance, since that is the
realm of the Lore Masters, and I am merely an accolyte.

	From the distance there comes a panting, and the
mists part to reveal a young couple, in their late teens,
running into the cursed ground. He is tall and muscular, his
skin is fair, his body well-toned, and his face is, beautiful,
his hair is white, pure, silvery white, even his eyebrows
are of that color; his companion is a slightly short
woman but very beautifull also, her body is that of a woman,
with full curves and none of the slightness of a teenager.
Her face seems innocent, pure, yet it is tinged with a look
of deep fear, and most striking is her hair, of an incredibly
bright red, shining in failing light.
	They're both wearing cloaks made of rough homespun
cloth, torn and dirty, which doesn't diminish their beauty at
all. It seems they've been running for some time now, she
seems almost ready to collapse, he's barely keeping her up.
They constantly look back, waiting for something to come
through the mist, so they keep on walking.

	Behind the the mist roils, tendrils being torn and
mussed around, and some figures come through. Dirty people,
wearing torn rags, and wielding primitive stone axes and
cudgels, clubs, or simply stones. They see the couple and
start shouting backwards. More people starts coming through
the mist and with them comes somebody that they treat with
obvious respect, an old hag wearing almost nothing but many
strings of beads and bones, shaking in her hands some strange
accoutrement made of sticks and bones all strung together.
She seems to be urging them forward because everybody seems
reluctant to enter the cursed place.

	The couple see their pursuers come through the mist,
and start running, but they are too tired. The young man
visibly make a resolution and takes the young woman by the
shoulders, says something hastily, pushes her onward and runs
toward the mob; she to stop him but she's too exhausted.
Her companion falls on the mob, who start beating him with
their weapons, kicking him, until he stops flailing and stays
on the ground which is tinged red with blood. She screams.
Then they look at her.
	She stands up and walkes up to a nearby waterhole,
looking into it's depths. Her face seems ravaged by grief,
tears falling from her blue eyes, her shiny red hair matted
with dried blood and caked with dirt. She can't see the
bottom of the hole, so she stands up, straight, regal. The
young woman looks at her pursuers and mouths something, maybe
a last curse, and steps into the hole.
	She's seemingly swallowed whole, the surface doesn't
even bubble; but after a minute it starts roiling, bubbling,
frothing, and terrible wind cuts through the cursed vale. The
pursuers starts backing up, slowly at first, but eventually
they run away at full speed not minding what the old hag was
screaming at them.

	Looking into the astral plane, one would have seen
the soul you the young man, pure, shining white like a start,
rise from ravaged body. He'd look around for a moment, and
then walk to that small waterhole and look inside. From
inside the water, the same young woman looked back. She
slowly rised from the water, rising to be level with him. He
extended his hand to her, but she can't take it. Slowly,
comprehension dawns in his face and with profound sadness in
his expression, he says farewell, and vanishes. She cries
into her hands and slowly sinks, returning to her new eternal
home, until that day that the curse might be broken.

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	*phew* what do you think? It took me a *long* while
to get this in form, but I really like it, how about you?
This the beginning of chapter 0, Preludes. Depending on what
you think of it I'll keep on writing.

	Well, keep in touch!

-RangerElf