Here's another story I'm starting on. Same disclaimers apply. Blah, blah,
blah.

You would think that an engaged person wouldn't have so much time on her
hands, but I actually wrote this *before* my boyfriend proposed. So nyah,
nyah, nyah.

			The Passion of the Rose-Colored Sword
					Prologue


Machellian waited until the last elder swept past, black robes swishing
loudly in the narrow corridor, then with the stealth of a ferret he slid
into the open chamber and pressed himself against the wall.

A count to 100.  That was how long he had to get what he wanted before the
chamber was sealed.  Luckily, he knew exactly what he was looking for.  The
idea of spending the next five years sealed within this chamber was not
appealing to him, even if what it contained could occupy his time far
longer than that.

Counting softly under his breath, his eyes roamed over the shelves of
books, scrolls, and tomes that lined the room.  The Elders had pushed most
of the books and scrolls aside in the center of the room to hold their
meeting.  It could be possible that what he was searching for was in that
pile.  Machellian wouldn't have been surprised if it had been a hot topic
of debate.

"Fifty-six...fifty-seven..."

His hands alit on documents that surely would've made him a rich man had he
pocketed them.  Scandals, histories, spells--there was even a book of fairy
tales whose ornate pictures came to life when he opened it.  Scowling, he
tossed it aside.  It was a fairy tale that had brought him here, and he had
no time for dallying with tales he knew to be untrue.

"Seventy-one...seventy-two..."

He was getting nervous when he saw a scroll resting atop one of the
bookshelves.  It barely peeked over the edge, almost unseen, yet when he
looked up at it, every sense within him clanged.  Rising, he reached up to
grab it and recoiled, a curse momentarily disrupting his counting.  The
scroll was hot to the touch.  Pulling his dark cloak from off his
shoulders, he knocked the scroll off the bookcase and scooped it up in his
cloak.

There was no time to see if it was what he wanted.  He had lost track of
counting and needed to get out of there immediately.  He ran out of the
chamber and up the stone steps, taking two at a time.  As he neared the
entrance, he felt a tingling in his extremities, causing him to misstep.
He fell flat on the stairs, the breath knocked out of him.

<No, not yet.  Not after all I've done.>

He fairly scuttled up the remaining steps, the cloak held tightly to his
chest.  He could feel the tingle spreading out to his entire body and told
himself, <Just a few moments more...>

A few more steps, and suddenly he stumbled out into the cool night air,
refreshing to feel after spending hours in that confining stairway.
Instead of going forward, he dove to the side of the entrance, which
appeared to be the opening into a cave, and settled down behind some
bushes.  A moment later, the entrance flashed with a brilliant yellow
light.  When he could see again, the entrance into the small chamber was
now smooth rock, with no evidence of an opening ever being there.  It will
stay like that until next year, when the Elders held their annual meeting
again.

Machellian chuckled under his breath.  What was the use of meeting if all
the Elders were going to discuss were how small their grain return has been
for that year.  The Elders were little more than gossiping housewives, not
the powerful mages they constantly made themselves out to be.  Just look at
their arrogance of not remain to see if anyone was near the chamber before
they sealed it.  A child could had easily walked in and out with a few
books without their knowing.

That would be their downfall.

After he judged that the Elders were truly gone, he undid his cloak and
stared at the scroll.  It had been sloppily sealed, as if someone had been
in haste.  But there was no mistaking the wax imprint: what looked like a
circle was actually a serpent swallowing its own tail.  Within the circle
was an upright sword.  

He relaxed for the first time in months.  He had been successful.

The scroll was no longer hot to the touch.  Now that he had it in his
possession, his spell to seek it out had dissipated.  He slid his finger
under the wax seal and gently pried it off; the seal itself would be worth
investigating at a later time.  The scroll itself wasn't in great shape.
The paper was brittle and had to be unrolled carefully.  The ink had faded
nearly to obscurity, except near the middle of the scroll, but it was all
that Machellian needed.

The part that was legible was a drawing of a sword, a larger copy of the
sword on the seal.  With the drawing, however, it's detailing could be seen
along the blade: vines curling about it's length, some ending in what
looked like rosebuds.  The drawing was done in black ink, but Machellian
would bet all of his knowledge and privilege that the actual blade of the
sword was a strangely-tinted red.  A different metal alloy, perhaps, or was
it something else?

There was also some text next to the drawing that could be read.
Machellian held the scroll closely to his eyes, his breath quickening as he
read the words that he had yearned to read for years.

"Beware the call of the rose-colored sword.
She waits for you.
She hates for you.
She breathes for you.
She grieves for you.
She lies for you.
She dies for you."

It was probably the strangest prophecy he had ever seen.  No mention of
future kings born on such-and-such a day.  No great wielders of magic who
would suddenly come to power during a freak solar eclipse. Just a obscure
warning about a sword.

It was the most important discovery of his life.

Machellian smiled as he carefully rolled the scroll up.  He had what he
wanted.  The prophecy was proof of it.  All he needed to do now was to find
out what the rest of the scroll said. He could easily coax the words off
the page with a casting spell right there if he wanted to, but why use up
the rest of his magical energy when he could go back to the inn, get a
decent night's sleep, and tackle the problem tomorrow?  Besides, he had the
scroll with him.  No need to be in such a hurry.

He began to chuckle softly as he scooted over to a nearby tree and
stretched out beneath.  In fact, why should he go back to the inn tonight?
It was such a beautiful night, ripe with possibilities.  He had the entire
world before him, and soon it would bow to him as well.  All thanks to the
rose-colored sword.  With the scroll, he was one step closer to finding it.
 Yes, all was well.

He let his chuckle erupt into full-grown laughter, eddying around him and
flying off into the still of the night.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------

"Ukyo-sama! Shall I put the open sign up?"

Ukyo stuck out her tongue.  The image in the mirror did the same thing.
She groaned and leaned forward, her head resting in her hands.

"Ukyo-sama?"

"Go ahead, Konatsu! You don't need me down there yet!" She loudly snapped,
then instantly regretted her words.  She heard the bell over her door
tinkle as the feminine ninja set out the sign, then nothing else.  Konatsu
must have gone back into the kitchen.  Not that Ukyo could tell.  The ninja
could be standing behind her now and she wouldn't even know it, not by the
silent way Konatsu walked.

She looked up at the mirror again, noting absently the bags beneath her
eyes, the hair in tangles and half sticking up.  Sighing, she leaned
forward and muttered, "You ain't getting younger, honey."

Downstairs, she heard Konatsu exclaim. "Ah! Ryoga-kun! Come in! We've just
opened."

Ryoga?  Must've gotten lost again on the way to the Tendo dojo.  She smiled
as she thought that: not from the Tendo name, but from one of the residents
there.  Ranma would be already up, she surmised.  Probably fighting with
his father right now.  It would be nice to have a hot breakfast waiting for
him when he finished.  Especially if it was done from her hands.

Feeling chipper at last, she picked up her hairbrush and began brushing her
hair, thinking it would be a good idea to drop by.  She'll ask Ryoga along
to keep Akane company while she attended to--other matters.  At this
thought, she giggled, then immediately blushed.  <Thinking such thoughts
this early in the morning. What am I, some pervert?>

Finally, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and beamed at herself.  No
man should resist her.  She was just too cute.  She stood and stretched,
feeling every muscle in her body grow taunt, then relax.  Maybe she'll even
do a little shopping today.  It's been a long time since she worn a dress.
It'll be a nice surprise to Ranchan.  And it's been a looong time since she
did a little indulging for herself.

She threw her image in the mirror a final smile and left her room.  Yes,
today was going to be a lovely day.

Her image in the mirror smiled back, then slowly faded from view...along
with the image of her room.




============================================================================
/===\     LaShawn M. Taylor (tbone@ccm.net)     MSTie#83924
|^ ^|\    (but not for long...)
 \v/\|    "I have to help him. You see, he's my fianc�!" 
    |\    			-Akane, from an Akane to Remember...
    \|    "And there's a hope in my heart, and I believe a day is coming
	   when we'll never be apart.
	   Just to be where you are, and to spend my life with you would 
	   be a perfect start."
				-Phil Keaggy "Spend My Life With You"
T-bone Corporations * In Touch With Yours Truly * Merging soon with Wanak,
Inc.
============================================================================