Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first
published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North
America by Viz Communications.

Commentary, public or private, is welcomed.

Homepage at:  http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Bay/9758

Chapter 33 : Songs of Life and Death [3 of 3]

     Around the area within the pillars, a distortion in the air 
in the shape of an inverted funnel was barely visible.  It slowly 
spiralled, making the empty space ripple and swim as if with 
waves of heat.

     "Konatsu," Ukyou whispered.  "Is he..."
     
     Tarou blinked.  "He?"
     
     "Yeah."  A fierce gaze turned on him.  "You have a problem?"
     
     If he did, he was certainly not going to mention it.  Not
when she had a look like that on her face.  "What happened here?"

     Ukyou looked warily around at the bodies.  "I don't know.  
I think these women are members of Kenzan, but..."  She looked 
pale and slightly queasy, leaning on her spatula as if to keep 
herself upright.  Tarou didn't much like the sight either, but 
there was an odd sense of stillness to the tableaux of the bodies 
that made so much death less disturbing than it should have been.

     "Let's just get him out of there," Tarou muttered at last.
He walked up to the edge of the distortion, stepping gingerly 
over a body as he did.  Up close, it looked more like a 
slow-moving tornado, with tiny particles of reddish dust moving
upwards in the spiral.  Not dust, Tarou realized.  Flecks of
blood.

     "I don't think it's a good idea to touch it," Ukyou said
from behind him.  "Let me try."

     "Try what?"
     
     "I can slip my spatula under him if I'm careful and pull him
out."

     Tarou snorted.  "If it's not safe for us to touch it, how do
you know it's safe for him?"

     Ukyou's face fell, and she looked about at the dead bodies.  
A strange distance showed in her eyes, and Tarou realized that 
she was forcing down a part of herself to deal with this 
competently.  He recognized that easily; he'd done it often 
enough himself.

     "Look," he suggested, "push that thing through it and see
what happens."

     Ukyou poked hesitantly at the barrier with the flat end of
her spatula.  To Tarou's surprise, and obviously to hers, it
vanished like the last dying ripple of a stone dropped into a 
pond.  Immediately, the blood that had been pooled around it 
began to flow inside.  

     Konatsu's eyes snapped open, and he screamed.  His limbs
shot out as if steel rods had been driven through his bones for a
second, and then fell limp at his sides.  His eyes closed again,
and the scream became a soft, nearly inaudible breath that 
escaped his throat for but a second before silence.

     Ukyou dropped to her knees beside him, uncaring now of the
blood.  "Konatsu, wake up!"  Tangled hair whipped about as she
turned her head back to him with a panicked expression on her 
face.  "He isn't breathing!"

     Tarou knelt and put the lantern down to take Konatsu's wrist
between thumb and forefinger.  No pulse.  Out of the corner of 
his eye, he saw Ukyou fumbling open the catch of the small box.  
As the first hair-wide crack opened between lid and bottom, and 
he saw the barest line of what lay inside, he was in motion.  The 
box flew from Ukyou's hands across the room, and that saved their 
lives.  It turned over once is mid-air, falling completely open, 
and struck the floor with a resounding impact more like a bell 
than anything else

     Then there was a howling, a scream like the voices of wolves
carried upon the wind.  Cold travelled with it, and the 
lightlessness of a trench at the bottom of the sea.  Lying on its
side, the mouth of the box gaped and stretched, bulged and bent
out of shape as something that looked like an endless flow of 
shimmering oil began to seep out from within.  A low moaning and 
gibbering filled the air.  As it touched the floor, stone cracked 
and shuddered, and the darkness rose up in waves.

     Tarou grabbed the lantern back up with one hand, scooped the
limp form of Konatsu over his shoulder like a sack with the 
other, and burst into a run out the way they'd came with Ukyou 
close behind.  

     Quickening with each second, the living blackness rolled 
like a flood over the chamber.  The iron pillars tarnished, fell 
to rust, and collapsed into the consuming darkness in a second.  
The bodies of the sacrifices were taken too into the seething and 
gibbering thing that had come forth from the box, and borne along
within its dark tide.

     Tarou ran, breath coming hard and fast, retracing the route
they'd taken to get here in his mind.  Konatsu's hands slapped
against his back, and he almost dropped the lantern as they
wheeled around a corner.  Behind them, the sound of stone
collapsing and a hellish cacophony of sound followed.  Ukyou's 
spatula was slowing her down; even carrying Konatsu, Tarou had to 
pace himself not to outdistance her and leave her in the 
darkness.  He would have screamed at her to drop it, but somehow 
doubted she would.  

     They passed through the burial chamber, and Tarou noted that
Nenreiko's body was gone.  Hot in pursuit, the darkness swept
through moments after they did, and the sealed iron caskets fell
apart and gave up their contents to it.

     The entire cavern shook as they ran through a rough-hewn
passage.  They kept their footing as small stones rained down
around them, and a dozen steps behind the flowing devourer came.
It screamed and howled and laughed.  Blind.  Stupid.  Ancient.
Hungry.
     
     Tarou did the calculations quickly in his head.  The thing
was getting faster by the second, and at their current rate of
speed, it would catch them before they reached the exit.  If he
dropped Konatsu, left Ukyou behind...

     "Faster!" he shouted, putting on a burst of speed and
tightening his grip on both the lantern and Konatsu.  To his
relief, Ukyou matched his speed, though he could see the strain
it put upon her.  For some reason, she was fumbling with 
something on her left hand while trying to rest her spatula 
against her shoulder and run at the same time.  The tunnel
shuddered again.  Nothing could be seen but a solid wall of black
racing through the passageway after them, almost nipping at their
heels.  Vague, almost-recognizable shapes seemed to press against
it from behind; faces human and animal, limbs, other forms that 
he could not and would not begin to guess at the identity of for
fear of what it would mean to consider them even in memory.

     Something that shone like a star flew from Ukyou's hands and
into the mass of black.  It lapped inches from their feet like
waves on a beach, and Tarou heard a strangled sob of frustration
break from Ukyou's throat.  There was a roar and a muffled boom 
from behind them, and a sheet of white fire exploded at their 
backs.  Now there came the screams of a thousand throats, and 
cracks shining with a blinding radiance appeared in the mobile 
darkness.  It slowed, then stopped altogether.  They whipped in a 
sharp turn around a bend in the passageway, and Tarou almost 
cried out loud with joy as he smelt salt-sea breeze wafting down
the passageway and heard the harsh cries of seagulls.  The white 
sand of the beach glistened in the moonlight beyond the exit from 
the caverns.  Never had he seen a more beautiful sight.

     And then behind them, racing with renewed speed, the
impossible thing came on in a howling torrent.  It was tattered 
and flayed, and it burned and screamed as the white flames 
consumed it.  Such a horrible sentience to the thing.  Such a
hate, such a hunger.

     Sand flew up as their feet hit outside the cave, and they
threw themselves to the side as the darkness rushed out right
behind them.  It touched the sand, and some of it fell in a patch 
like spilled ink on a page as the rest of it vanished back into
the cave.  Under the light of the moon, the fires that burned on 
it seemed to grow in strength and intensity, and in seconds the
darkness and the flame were gone entirely.

     Tarou raised his head, spat out a mouthful of sand, and
stared back into the cave.  Nearby, the lantern chose that moment
to sputter and die.  By the light of the moon, he could see the
cave walls as far as he could see were worn smooth as glass.

     Next to him, Konatsu drew his first long, gasping breath.  
Ukyou scuttled over on her hands and knees and touched his face.  
There were tears in her eyes.

     "I think it's over," Tarou gasped.  Ukyou said nothing, only
moved Konatsu's head to rest in her lap and pushed his hair out
of his eyes.  Tarou felt vaguely annoyed at being ignored.  He 
had just probably saved both their lives, after all.  "I said, I 
think it's over."  The grating cry of a crow made him look up, 
and also proved him entirely wrong.

**********

     Happosai walked over to where Hako lay amidst the broken
beams.  She was clearly dying, and as he approached, she coughed
up a tide of black-tinged blood onto the floor.  One of her legs
had been pinned by a beam, and he could see the shocking white of
snapped bone.  Nearby, the coals of the brazier were cool and
dead upon the floor.  A tremor ran through the floorboards, as if
from some earthquake deep below, and the coals bounced and
scattered.

     Happosai knelt down beside the fallen leader of Kenzan.  
"It's over," he said, and knelt down by her.  Mentally, he added 
to the count.  The three men in Shanghai when he was young and 
foolish that he always regretted.  The one in Tokyo in the years 
after the war, who he hadn't - no one should do those kinds of 
things to children and live.  Ranshao, who by the time Happosai 
had killed him had been barely even human anymore.
     
     Now Hako of Kenzan.  A woman.  
     
     Her eyes met his.  "Mother?" she whispered.
     
     Happosai shook his head, feeling an almost unbearable weight
of grief settle onto him.  Did every life, no matter how 
befouled, end like this?  He thought of all the things he knew
about Kenzan, about what they'd done over the last century, and
he found that even then he could not hate Hako in this moment.

     "I couldn't help it, mother.  It gets into the bone.  Into
the bone, and it stays.  It makes you do things until you become
it."  Hako's eyes held a shimmer like tears, but no pain.  "I'm
sorry.  The flesh is so weak.  The blood is so weak.  Bone is so
strong."  Happosai stared.  Hako's eyes were a light green.  
Before, they'd been nearly black.
     
     "Free."  It was almost inaudible, but filled with joy.  A
last long breath was drawn, and her eyes closed.
     
     Happosai swore, leapt to his feet, and ran.
     
**********

     A lean figure rose up from where she sat upon the sand near
the cliffs.  On her feet, she was taller than most men.  Gaunt
limbs were draped in tattered silks of a dark yellow-green, and 
lank black hair waved about the woman's bony face in the wind
blowing off the ocean.  The crow on her shoulder called again.  
It had the same yellow eyes as the rat in the sepulchre.

     Tarou kicked himself up into a defensive stance.  "Great.
The vermin come out to play."  Something colder than ice struck
him in the back like a hammer, and knocked him sprawling to the
sand.  When he tried to move his legs and arms, they responded
slowly and weakly, and he felt as if some great chill hand was 
clenched about his body.

     "Very good, little worm," the skinny woman said.  "You're
useful for something after all."

     A hunched and winged shape landed in a crouch on the sand
near the woman.  "Hello again, you interfering little piece of
filth."  Xande chuckled dryly.  "And how is your friend Saotome?
Is his mind entirely gone yet?"

     A hand helped Tarou to his shaky legs.  Ukyou regarded him
almost accusingly, but with a glint of hope in her eyes.  "You
know Ranma?  When was the last time--"

     "Later," he said, and silently cursed.  All the exhaustion
of the last few days, the fight with Nenreiko, and now Xande's
attack had finally taken their toll.  He felt weak as a child and
weary as the dead.  Standing on his own two feet was an effort.
Fighting would seem an impossibility.  He would not, however, lean
on Ukyou for support; that he vowed.

     "I must thank you," the tall woman said with false grace.
Tarou assumed her to be Fuhaiko - she had the same voice as the
one that had spoken inside his head in the presence of the rat.
"You have behaved exactly as I expected you to.  I must say I did
not expect the ring to work quite so effectively, but once it
ceases to fear that you may have more of _that_ sort of thing at
your disposal, I expect it will spread into the stone and make a 
pleasant home in the caverns.  It fears all lights but the
smallest, you understand.  Moonlight will kill it in minutes, 
sunlight in seconds."

     Ukyou stepped forward, brandishing her spatula.  On the
ground behind her, Konatsu groaned softly.  "What is it?"

     "Consider that a human or animal is at its basest level of
a singular substance.  What I and my sisters call Living Dark 
could be thought of as composed entirely of the fundamental 
substance of nonexistence bound but barely into a physical shape.
Thus, it is most inimical to all things both living and 
otherwise."

     "But the box was supposed to..."
     
     Fuhaiko laughed.  "You stupid child.  You have been but a
pawn in this since the beginning.  But you are my pawn now, and
not Yoko's.  When I toss your body before her and tell the story,
and force her to take oath on your blood that she did not send 
you against Hako, the Circle will bow me to me."

     Tarou stared.  Connections began to be made in his mind from
what he had heard from Ranma and Kima days ago.  A glance at 
Ukyou made him think some similar process was occurring for her.  
"That's who you remind me of," she said.  "Those women on the 
mountain..."

     Fuhaiko snorted.  "Yamiko and Denkoko.  Fools both.  Unfit
as Hako to truly rule."

     "Gloating leads to failure," someone whispered.  "Just kill
them now, Fuhaiko."  Nenreiko limped across the sand and faced
Fuhaiko with Tarou and Ukyou between.  

     "Yes," Xande said.  "The boy is sneaky.  I'm surprised he
hasn't tried to dive into the ocean yet."

     That, Tarou thought, would have been a good idea.  In his
condition, though, he was fairly sure he wouldn't have made it.
Inside, he raged - a stupid pawn in this game whose rules he
didn't know was all he'd been.  On the sand, Konatsu groaned
again.

     "Very well," Fuhaiko said with a sigh.  She thrust her arm
upwards, and the yellow-eyed crow took wing into the air above
her head.  The beating of wings then was like thunderclaps, and
moon, stars and sky were blotted out entirely as hundreds of
crows streamed from where they must have been perched atop the
cliffs into the sky over the beach.  A darkness fell nearly as 
deep as the caves beneath the avian horde.  The only light was 
that provided by the reflection of moonlight and starlight off 
the water.  

     Konatsu rolled onto his stomach, and came up throwing.  The 
knife struck Fuhaiko in the shoulder, and her shriek was loud and 
high.  In the sky, the crows wheeled uncertainly, crashing into
each other.  Dozens of black-feathered shapes fell with broken 
wings to stain the beach and float upon the waters of the sea.
     
     Xande cried out and threw his wings forward.  Tarou shoved
Ukyou aside as he leapt, and the sand furrowed as the black wave
of power struck where they had stood.  Another knife sank into 
Fuhaiko's stomach after it flew from Konatsu's hand, and she 
doubled over with a gurgle and crumpled to the sand.  In the sky, 
the flock of crows was dispersing as rapidly as it had come.

     Shuffling footsteps made Tarou turn, and in a motion that
was almost instinctual, he scooped and hurled a handful of sand 
into Nenreiko's face from two feet away.  Fighting exhaustion as 
she automatically closed her eyes against the stinging grains, he
ran for the water.  Ten feet from the lapping waves, something 
that felt like a greased rope lashed around his ankle and tripped 
him.  Pain stabbed through his ribs as he landed badly on his 
side.  Another rope wrapped around his neck; he struggled, 
half-rose to his feet, and saw a child-sized shape writhing 
between rat and crow and worm and something else on the sand 
nearby.  The thin tentacles binding his neck and ankle grew from 
its back.

     An unfamiliar cry that must have been Konatsu's cut the air,
and he heard the hard sound of a body impacting with something
solid.  The tentacle tightened around his neck, and he yanked to
try and drag the thing close enough to kick at it.  It made a 
chittering hiss and simply backed away, the tentacle lengthening
from the malleable flesh-stuff of its body.  The stench of it was 
suffocating, blood and pus and something that had lain rotting in 
the dark and wet for a long, long time.

     A blinding flash of light turned night into crimson-tinged
day for a moment, and the thing cried out.  The tentacle went
limp, and Tarou felt a spray of some cold liquid hit his chest
and hands.  As he drew desperate gasps of air and struggled to
stand, he saw a dark shape speeding across the sand to Fuhaiko
and a severed ropey shape twitching near his feet.  The gaunt 
woman was on her knees clutching her stomach.  Konatsu was laid 
out on the ground below the cliffs, as Ukyou dodged frantically 
the aerial blasts of Xande.  Nenreiko was...

     A hand grabbed the back of his neck in a vicelike grip.
     
     "Whatever you do," Tarou gasped, "don't throw me in the
water."

     "I never intended to," Nenreiko whispered, and his nerves
caught fire.  He writhed, realized he was screaming.  Rusty 
knives carved his flesh to pieces.  Blunt needles sewed it back 
together.  Flame cauterized the wounds.

     Somehow, he got his feet up and kicked Nenreiko as hard as
he could in the stomach.  That wasn't hard, but it was enough to
break the grip.  Tarou scrambled on his hands and knees across 
the sand, towards the water.

     Nenreiko grabbed him by the leg, lifted him with a strength
she shouldn't have possessed, and hurled him a dozen feet back
with his arms pinwheeling madly.  All the air left him as he
struck the sand.  He couldn't make sense of the rest of the
battle - screams and lights filled the air.

     "Nenreiko, WE ARE LEAVING!" 
     
     In the air above, Fuhaiko was draped over the broad back of
a black-winged rat-thing the size of a horse.  As Tarou watched, 
lying on his back on the sand, a crackling bolt of red lightning 
flashed by her and struck the ocean with explosive force.
     
     A long tentacle flashed down from the mass of the monster's
body and wrapped around Nenreiko's wrist.  With a jerk, it
lifted her into the air and atop the back of the mount.  There
was the sound of battle cries from nearby, an old man's - 
Xande's - and someone else's.  Happosai, Tarou realized.  He
_would_ end up getting saved by him, wouldn't he?  What a sense
of humour the gods have, Tarou thought.  Then he passed finally
into unconsciousness.

**********

     The crackling of a fire was the first thing Konatsu heard as
he awoke.  He was lying on his back on the beach.  All he could
remember was fighting with Hako near the cliffs.  It was night
now, and the sky was filled with stars.

     There was a campfire nearby, fed by driftwood whose salty
burning turned the flames unfamiliar and beautiful colours.  
Ukyou sat cross-legged near it.  The tears that glistened on her 
cheeks caught the light of the fire, and it seemed to him for a
moment as if sparkling jewels fell from eyes.

     "Ukyou?" he asked softly.
     
     She turned her head to look at him, and gulped.  "So you're
awake."  Konatsu saw someone else on the other side of the fire,
a dim shape covered by a blanket.  "That's good."

     He sat up.  His body didn't seem to respond as well as it
should have; nothing went in the right direction unless he 
thought about it.  "Why are you crying?"
     
     "Because I'm glad you're okay," Ukyou said.  But she could
not meet his eyes.

     "Is that all?"  His voice sounded odd to him.  He couldn't
remember how it was supposed to sound.       
     
     Ukyou shook her head and looked away from him into the fire.
     
     "I can explain," said an unfamiliar voice.  "Come with me."
     
     He looked up at the short man who had come silently to stand
nearby.  "But Ukyou..."
     
     "I've already explained it to her," the man said shortly.
"Now come."

     They walked a short distance away, and the man sat down on
the sand near the ocean.  Waves lapped at his bare feet.  "I'm
Happosai.  We met before, but not in these shapes."

     Konatsu nodded.  He was too confused to argue anyway.
     
     "Sit down."
     
     Sand shifted as he did.  A mild tremor ran through his leg,
and he pursed his lips worriedly.  The waves rolled slowly in,
and broke upon damp beach.

     "I'm no good at these things, so I'll just tell you," 
Happosai said.  His tone matched his face - carefully composed.
"Hako's dead."

     "Good," Konatsu said.
     
     Happosai winced.  "There has long been rumoured to be a
technique of preserving the soul beyond the death of the body.  A
dark thing, legend only, mentioned in the most ancient texts of
the Art but never described.  Under the right conditions - a
certain time, bloodline, mentality, and otherwise - the spirit 
may pass from one body to the next."
     
     Dread came creeping slowly at first, and then rose like a
river overflowing its banks.  The pieces fell together so easily
Konatsu wondered why he had not seen them before.  Why Hako had
needed him so badly.  Why she had been so enraged when Fuhaiko 
had injured him.

     Happosai continued.  "I think that whatever Hako may have
said, my actions and those of Ukyou disrupted things before they 
could be entirely completed."

     "So it's okay then, right?"  Konatsu waited, but there was
no response.  His voice was high, verging on hysteria.  "I'm 
fine, aren't I?"  His hand, as if of its own volition, seized 
Happosai by the neck of his shirt.  "I'm all right?"

     Happosai gently moved his hand away.  "No.  You're not."
     
     Konatsu's hand twitched.  This time, there was no mistaking
that the motion was not desired.  The fingers curled into talons
and uncurled without him even thinking of it.

     "Your aura is still mostly your own," Happosai said.  "But
there's a black spot in the centre.  A spiritual cancer, of 
sorts.  I believe that is Hako's spirit, if Hako is its real 
name."

     "Real name?"
     
     Happosai lifted a handful of sand and let the grains run
through his fingers.  They sparkled in the moonlight as they 
fell.  "I think it is very old.  It has likely used the line of 
your family for a very long time.  I suspect Hako is your 
great-grandmother or otherwise a direct blood relation.  Once 
every century or so, as the time grows right and the old body
grows weak, a child is born with the right characteristics to be
a host for the spirit of the thing.  I suspect it is easiest when 
it is a woman for some reason, which is why you were raised as 
you were."

     Konatsu shuddered and twisted his fingers together.  "Is 
there a cure?"

     "I don't know," Happosai admitted.  "Perhaps the Joketsuzoku
would - their arts are among the oldest in the world.  I can 
think of no other place to look."

     "How long do I have?"
     
     "Like any sickness, it will grow worse as time goes on," 
Happosai said.  "Not long, though.  Weeks, perhaps months, before
your own mind becomes entirely like that of Hako.  A long period 
of slow degeneration before that."

     A grim resolve filled Konatsu.  "I'll die first."
     
     "Yes, you will," Happosai said, and it was not only an
affirmation but also a promise.  "And it will finally die with 
you then, I hope, if it must come to that."

     "You told Ukyou?"
     
     "I told her that your aura showed you were slowly dying,
that Hako's ceremony had been to control your mind but that it
had failed and was killing you.  Nothing more than that.  If you
tell her more, it is your choice."

     Konatsu nodded.  "I should, but..."  
     
     "I guess that you are safe for at least a week," Happosai 
said.  "There will be urges, if you are greatly stressed.  But
those will be easily overcome if you are willing.  And perhaps a
cure can be found, or a method of delaying."

     Hope, then.  There was that.  And Ukyou.  But he would not
hurt her.  No matter what, he would not allow himself to do that.
If the urge, even the urge, came upon him, he would make his end
be swift and sure.

     "I'm going to go back and talk to Ukyou," he said as he
stood.  Happosai had no reply, but continued to stare out onto 
the surging of the ocean.  Konatsu began to walk back towards the
distant light of the campfire and Ukyou.  Now he saw that every
few feet along the shoreline, a dead black bird was being slowly 
washed over and over again by the waves, as the tides worked to
draw it down into the sea.

**********

     Tarou woke up next to the ashes of a dead camp fire.  In the
hazy light of dawn, the white sand of the beach was painted with
a shifting weave of colours, and the cloud banks in the sky were
rosy-hued as they drifted overhead.
     
     "Awake at last."
     
     He sat up to regard Happosai.  Sleep had done him good.  
Few aches, pains or signs of exhaustion remained.  He had always
been a fast healer.  That had served him well in childhood.

     "Where's Ukyou and her friend," he asked.
     
     "They went for a walk a little while ago," Happosai replied.
He sat atop a large trunk such as might be used to store
clothing.  "When they get back, we'll head for Jusenkyou."

     Tarou nodded.  "What's in there?"
     
     "Everything of possible use that I could salvage from 
Kenzan's headquarters.  Books, items that might be enchanted, and
such.  I'm going to burn it to the ground before we leave.  
There's a lot of evil in that place."

     A light chuckle came from Tarou.  "Better to burn the 
caves."

     "Stone doesn't burn," Happosai replied.  "And whatever was
unleashed under there will disappear soon, with luck.  Such 
things as it were not meant to long exist within this world."

     Tarou rose to his feet and stretched, working out the kinks
that a night sleeping on the sand had put into his arms and legs.
"That's for sure."

     "Do you want your new name now?"
     
     Tarou almost laughed again, but stopped himself.  He had
forgotten all about it.  Somehow, that made him happy.  "Yeah."

     Happosai dipped his fingers in the ocean, and they came up
trailing clear drops of water.  He stepped up and traced Tarou's
forehead.  The water was cool and damp, not enough to make him
change.

     "I name you Tarou," Happosai said.  There was a slight grin
on his face, as if he expected protest.  Tarou gave none.  Kakkoi
Tarou he had wanted to be once, but now he had realized the 
truth.  A man was not defined by his name.  Tarou was good 
enough for now, good enough for ever.

**********

     Four left that morning across the Sea of Japan from the
white beach upon the shores of Okinawa.  Behind them, the 
buildings of the Kenzan compound sent columns of black smoke into 
the sky.  In the tunnels beneath the cliffs, the Living Dark 
spread itself through the caverns without realizing that it was 
slowly dying.  
     
     Three rode on one, who flew on wings by virtue of water's 
gift.  One bore a thing within his bones that might soon consume 
him.  One bore a grief for a reason that was partly correct, but 
not entirely.  One bore burdens that he had been unfit to bear 
before, that he worried he was unfit to bear now because of what
he had once been.  One bore less than he had before, but still 
had more to bear, for his part in this, random as it might be,
had yet to be entirely played.  Nor had the parts of the others.

     The wind picked up the ashes and blew them to the east.  
Through what is called chance by those who do not see the hand in 
it, a few of them came in time to mingle with the ashes of 
another place that burned the night before.  One was a place of 
light and love, one a place of darkness fouler than even those 
who knew some of the truths of its existence had guessed.  There 
would be more ashes before it ended.  More fires, and no doubt 
more bright lights going out into the darkness.

     But now the curtain drops here.  A few ashes drift off the
cliffs and fall to the beach below.  Now the wind carries them,
and grains of sand, and the bodies of black birds, to the edge of
the waters.  And water rolls over birds and sand and ash, and 
carries them all in.  Uncaring, neither wanted nor unwanted for 
there are no such divisions here, all are drawn at the last, into 
the last embrace of the all-accepting sea.

End of Chapter 33

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