This is my first attempt at fanfic so please be kind. 

Send any questions or comments to: gorlando@earthlink.net

Prologue

Ranma Saotome, Grand Master, and Chief  of all the Saotome Clan, stood on the
terrace above the training grounds.  His face were marked by lines of age and the sparkle
in his gray-blue eyes were dimmed by the experience accumulated from decades of war.
His shoulders were squared and he stood straight and tall like all born warriors should.

For the past 30 years, his clan, has been at war with the Hibikis.  A war
that started with a feud between best-friends.  Nobody remembers what the fued was, nor
do they care.  each day, young recuits are trained in the Arts for future uses in the war,
and each day, old veterans die because of that war.

Ranma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His left hand moved instinctively to tug
fiercely at his pig-tail. He would give his soul if he could somehow end this war and bring
back peace, but he knew it was already to late.  Throughout the years too many many clan
members on both sides had been killed; too many wrongs committed that can only be righted
with bloodshed.  Alas, the Hibikis and Saotomes, once great allies against the forces of
evil, had somehow succumb to evil itself; this war would continue, and neither clan would
surrender until the other was destroyed.

A deep voice from behind broke the chain of his thoughts, "Master, your spies inform me that
the Hibikis have attacked the village Nerima.  They plan to make their camp there to prepare
for a strike at our Temple."

Ranma turned to look at his old friend. Craven stood a full foot shorter than Ranma, and he was
shorter than most men,  but what he lacked in height, he more than made up with his skills
in battle.  Ranma let out a small sigh and balled his right into a tight fist.  "So, Ryoga
wants to go another round," he turned to look at the training grounds once again.  "then so
be it.  Tell, the others to prepare for battle, we will leave for Nerima in one hour."

Craven bowed and without a word; he left to do his task.

"Ryoga, for good or for ill, this will be our final battle." Ranma said under his breath.

*************************

In one hour, the Saotomes were assembled and dressed in light leather armor; armed with
razor sharp, curved swords.  Ranma mounted a powerfully built black stallion and addressed
his warriors.  All eyes turned upon him, and he could see the fierceness of their spirits.
"Today, we march against our mortal enemies, the Hibikis.  The have taken the village of
Nerima, and are now preparing to attack our temple."  He paused to allow his words to be
absorbed.  "But.........but we will not let this happen.  We ride to Nerima, to bring this
fight to them and away from our families.  We will destroy the Hibikis and show them
once and for all that the Saotomes are a foce to be reckon with!"  With the utterance of his
last words, Ranma roared a fiece battle cry and urge his mount on a fast gallop eastward,
towards Nerima.

Standing upon the terrace overlooking the training grounds, Akane watched her husband ride
off, tears rolling silently down her face.  She had heard his silent oath and new what they
meant. "Oh, Ranma........"

*************************

Nerima was once a peaceful and prosperous village.  People form all over the known world
would come to its marketplace to exchange goods and trade tales of adventures with its
people.  Its tall marble buildings were built by the science of a long dead civilization.

No other village or city could compare to its beauty and the good ways of its people.  But
that all ended, when the jealous feud between the Saotomes and Hibikis erupted and turned
into a full scale war.  Nerima was caught in the middle; its people terrorized by both
factions.

Suddenly, the tourists and traders stopped coming; Nerima was closed off from the rest of
the world.  the first, among many of the casualties of the Hibiki and Saotome war.  Within
a year, the once propsperous people of Nerima were reduced to scavengers.  Their fields
would no longer grow crops because it was polluted by the blood of the fallen.

Throught the years, the people of Nerima have tried to rebuild and re-plow their lands, in
the hopes that their village oculd once again be a wondrous place, and for a time it was
working.  The fields were slowly recovering, and their crops were beginnning to grow tall
and healthy.  But one ironically beautiful day, the villagers saw death itself come; all
hopes for a better tomorrow was instantly destroyed, and the people fell to their knees and
prayed to whatever god may be listening.  they prayed for mercy, and if they must die, they
prayed for a swift and painless death.

Over the eastern horizon the Hibiki clan came, riding their powerful mounts, sending dust-
devils behind their passage.  They rode into Nerima and immediately started killing man,
woman, and child.  They trampled over people and chopped heads off with their shining
curved blades.  Homes were burnt to the ground and the villagers ran in all directions.
Fear consuming them to a point where all reason was destroyed.

Only a small baby boy was safe from all the carnage in the village.  Just before the arrival
of the Hibikis, his mother had hidden him inside an old oaken tree, where he now slept,
never knowing that this was the end of his people.

The day gre older and the death and screams of the villagers became less and less.  By
night fall, nothing was left but the bodies and ashes of the dead.  The once proud people
of Nerima was no more.

The Hibikis put away their bloodstained swords and dismounted.  The fire of their berserker
rage slowly ebbing away.

Ryoga Hibiki, Grand Masters and Lord of the Hibikis looked up the handiwork of his men and
smiled in approvement.  This village was now theirs and soon, so will Saotome's Temple.  He
raised his right fist and shouted a chant.  "Victory! Victory!"  Soon all the others joined
him and their chants and laughter could be heard for miles.

***********************

Hours later, when the Hibikis settled themselves around a blazing fire, Ryoga watched his
men from afar.  His stance was honorable, almost regal.  He had a large scar running from
the tip of his chin to the top of his forehead, running over his nose and between two
narrowed brown eyes.

He touched the scar on his face and frowned slightly, he remember who had given it to him,
and his voice was filled with hatred when he utterred the name.  "Ranma, you will die for
humiliating me.  You and all your kin.  This I swear...."  His oath was disturbed by the
by the sound of hooves.  Before Ryoga knew what was happening, the Saotomes came down upon
him and his men with the vengeance of titans.

Ryoga screamed for his men to arm themselves even as sword was thrust deep into his chest.
The pain was unbearable and his eyes began to lose its focus.  He stared at the sword and up
to the face of the man wielding it, before his body collapsed and all life left his eyes.

Ranma withdrew his sword and stared down at the body of his enemy.  All around him, Saotomes
and Hibikis fought with the ferociousness of rabid animals, and the fields were once again
bathed in the blood of fallen warriors.

The battle lasted throught the night and the Hibikis fought bravely and well, but they were
simply no match for the shear numbers of the Saotome warriors.  After the battle, Ranma
ordered the bodies of both clans to be piled at the center of the village.  He lood once
more at the body of Ryoga, and somehow he was not gratified.  His archenemy was dead; the
leader of the Hibikis was killed by his own sword.  He should have been happy, but instead,
all he felt was guilt.

He remembered the happier times of his youth, times when he would spar playfully with a
certain bandanna clad, lost boy.........

He knelt down onto one knee and began a pray for the dead, the others did the same, as
the pile of bodies were lit on fire.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air and entered Ranma's nostrils, almost making
him sick.  With his head bowed, his warriors did not see a small tear escape his eyes
and run down his cheek.  'Was all these deaths necessary? Was Shampoo's?
Was Ukyou's?.......... Was Ryoga's?' he asked himself, momentarily letting go of his
emotions as his body was racked with grief.

Everyone stoop up and gazed at the hugy bonfire of bodies, each of them wrestling with
inner demons of their own.  Wishing that this war would end with the death of Ryoga, but
knowing that the only end will be in their deaths.

Ranma remained kneeling.  His strength had left him, and he would have stayed kneeling
if not for the voice calling him.  "Master.  Master, are you all right?"  Craven asked
as he put his hand gently upon Ranma's shoulder.

Ranma rose slowly, and addressed his friend, his tears and grief hidden behind a mask
of confidence.  "I am all right, Craven."  he looked oncemore at the bonfire.  "When
the fire dies, order everyone to spread the ashes in the all directions.  Let the evil
of this night be abolished by the wind."

"Yes, Master." Craven bowed respectfully and left his master alone.

Ranma turned away form the fire and walked away, deep in thought.  He thought about the
war between his clan and the Hibikis.  Were all these deaths worth it?  Was there a way
to end this needless bloodshed and somehow reunite the clans?  But deep inside him, he
new there was none.  In fact, with the death of Ryoga, the Hibikis would have just one
more reason for war.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone crying.  He looked around him,
and he realized taht he had wondered outside the viallge and into the nearby woods. 
He scanned the area with his eyes but saw no one and the crying had stopped.  Had he
imagine it?  He turned his ear in the direction where he heard the noise; stil there
nothing.  'Maybe I'm just imagining things.' He resumed his walk and two heart beats
later, her heard it again........

***************************

End Prologue