Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum 
-harnums@thekeep.org
-harnums@hotmail.com (old/backup)

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 welcomed, publicly or privately.  

Been here, done this, doin' it again... addiction is an awful
thing, isn't it?  ;)
 

Waters Under Earth at Transpacific Fanfiction:  
http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/transp.html

Chapter 37 : The Crucible

Not the stillness born of certain times - the transitional
moments, the periods between the setting and the rising of the
sun - but a desolation, as if despite the murmur of water and the

as if, despite  {?  not sure about this one...}

canopy of leaves overhead, this place were a desert.

     Akari Unryuu felt, after the first realization of the
stillness, a fearful sense that her own skin was not her own, and

{a bit too paradoxical?  suggest} her skin was not her own,

a twisting sickness in her gut.

patchwork cloth.  Those four had been quietly talking apart for
the whole time, discussing the quite radical shift in the 
structure of the Circle Eternal.  But all four were mages, and
had felt the power in Yoko's victory over the Orochi; perhaps, 
all of them thought to one degree or another, it was well past
time the Circle had a supreme leader.

{heh.  I wonder when they'll realize that it isn't a circle any
more...}

     He felt before anyone else - with the limited sorcery he had 
taught himself over the years - the rippling feeling of something
disturbing the air, like a hurled pebble mars the surface of

{suggest} as a hurled
 

water.

     Xande dropped smoothly from the tree, wings spreading to
catch him and guide him between the branches.  He landed in front
of Yamiko, and bowed smoothly.  "I am as glad to serve you as I 
am honoured mother of the night."

honoured, mother

     Over the black leather of her mask, Yamiko's black eyes
glittered.  She hissed, managing to express in that wordless
sound an immense amount of disdain, and turned away to gesture to
the prisoners.  They were brought to their feet and set marching
after Yamiko's lead.  Xande stood up, brushed forest dirt from
the knees of his pants, and frowned as he brought up the rear.

{If Xande has dirt on his knees, should that be "knelt" 2 paras up
rather than "bowed"?}

     "She will love you, brother," Wiyeed said.  "And you will
love her.  And so long as she lives, and you love her, then even
the hand of the World-Hater will never be able to touch you."

{Love is, in the end, the only defense against entropy...}

     "Who is she?" Herb asked finally.  
     
     "She came from over the sea.  The Daughters of the Night
have sought her since your birth, but she was farther than any
have ever been."

{slightly unclear; suggest} farther than any of them have

     They had stopped to rest at last on the eastern border of 
the province of Sichuan, in a remote forest where a stream ran by
a clearing.  Tarou - that was his only name now - walked back to
the small fire, empty kettle in hand and hair damp.  He caught
only a fragment end of the conversation between Ukyou Kuonji,

only a fragment of the end of the conversation {?}

Konatsu Kenzan and Happosai, before they realized he was there
and grew quiet.

     Ukyou shook her head, a trouble expression on her face.  

troubled

     Tarou nodded.  "I think so."  The truth was, he was almost
sure of it.  His sneaking suspicion was that everyone was being     
gathered in already.  It gave him a bad feeling.

{You and me both, kiddo.}
 

     The words were carefully chosen, and struck Ukyou precisely

Ukyou as precisely  {?}

     "You have to see it," Happosai urged.  "I can see it.  Don't
look with your eyes; you can't look with your eyes for this."
     
     "What else am I supposed to look with."

with?"

     "<You are a traitor to our people's pride and history,>" Bi
Shou said in acid tones, hard-faced and straight-backed in her
chair, the greying strands of her dark hair emphasized by the
angle the lamplight hit her at.  "<You will learn nothing from 

{suggest} emphasized by the angle at which the lamplight hit her.

     "<Is it just some game to you?>" Cologne asked 
incredulously.  She was herself scarcely able to comprehend it -
women she'd known all her life dead in an ambush on Watcher's

life, dead  {?  (cute juxtaposition of antonyms, BTW)}

     "<It gave us victory.>"
     
     "<It killed a quarter the warriors of the Joketsuzoku.>"

quarter of the
     

     "<And three-quarters of the enemy.  Sacrifices,>" Bi Shou 
said smugly as she leaned back in the chair, "<must occasionally 
be made.  The tree must be pruned that it might grow strong.>"

{Sure, and you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.  *snort*
However, the neat thing about the "pruning" analogy is that, unless
one cuts the tree down, one doesn't kill the tree... but WHICH
branches one cuts determines the future shape of the tree.}

     "<How did she find it?  It was lost.>"
     
     "<It passed to outsiders after the battle.  From hand to
hand, over fourteen centuries, until Fang Shi found it again.
Payment for services rendered on the outside.>"

     The words echoed in Cologne's head.  Services rendered.  Bai
Ling looked shaky and uncertain, and Bi Shou had gone from sullen
to arrogant.  It was time to play the hidden card.

     "<For this, perhaps?>"
     
     And she reached under the table, where it had been concealed
at her feet, and slammed Hammer of Storms down upon the table
with a sound that cracked like thunder in the sudden quiet fallen
over the room.

     For a moment, just a moment, Bi Shou's expression faltered,
and Cologne knew.  The black rod, with blunt mandible jaws at one 
end and a silver-chained bracelet at the other, lay upon the 
table between them like a challenge thrown down.  Ryoga's 
inhalation of breath made it clear that he recognized it.

     "<What else did you give them, Bi Shou?>" Cologne asked
coldly.  "<How many of our treasures did you and Fang Shi hand to
them over the years?  It has been too long since an inventory of
the sealed vaults were done.  That will be my first task when I

vaults was done.

return to the Joketsuzoku.>"

     Bi Shou laughed, managing to maintain almost all of her

{suggest} managing to regain almost all

earlier confidence.

     Cologne nearly struck her, and that would have meant the end
of it.  She had to maintain control here.  But Bi Shou had always
been good at finding sore spots.  "<You had so much potential, 
Bi.  I grieve that you have become what you have.>"

     "<Your righteousness is as false as you,>" Bi Shou replied.

{suggest for resonance with previous sentence} false as you are,>"

     That was the end of it.  Cologne saw it on Bai Ling's face,
even before the girl spoke, and she felt the weight lift from her
shoulders.  Ryoga had told her what Bai Ling had said earlier, 
the hesitant words.  'Great-grandmother has done a terrible 
thing'.

thing.'  {?}

     Cologne said the worst swear word she could think of.

{Oh, my.  I'll bet flies dropped out of the air in a three-meter
radius.  :)  Seriously, this is a nice example of how to write a
character with more experience than the writer or any of his
readers... which can be quite difficult.}
      

     "A human man."  Kima looked up at the mural of the curved 
ceiling of the hall as she continued her report; a battle scene, 
colours long-faded.  The Golden One and Saffron led armies of 
winged warriors against a horde of demons; at the forefront of 
the shadowy army, a towering cloaked figure whose only visible 
feature were two enormous white wings held a flaming sword with

features were

a black blade and drove the army to battle.

     Samofere's head snapped up as if he'd been shocked.  "Why
did you not send message back of that?  Why did you not tell me

{suggest} send word back

on the way back to the mountain?" 

     Kima blinked, surprised by the anger in his tone.  "I sent 
message back with Shiso."

{suggest} sent a message back
      

     "Shiso has not returned since I sent him to Chenmo Shan,"
Samofere said.

{Oh, boy.}

     She silently calculated, hiding her dismay at the 
insignificant number.  "About two hundred actually trained.  
Perhaps the same amount who are young enough and strong enough to 

{suggest} Perhaps as many more who

wield a weapon."

     "Not many."
     
     "No.  Not many."
     
     "We need the Joketsuzoku."
     
     She nodded.  "If we can get message to the Musk in time..."

{suggest}  get word to
     

     "I already dispatched messengers."
     
     "Will they move without their king's orders?"
     
     A long pause.  At last, Samofere shook his head.  "I don't
know."

     "Herb is still at Chenmo Shan."

{Attribution unclear; it seems there might be a line missing, or
perhaps an unneeded para break?}
    

     Kima shifted, unconsciously dropped a hand to caress the
jewelled hilt of her sword.  "Shiso never came back?"

     He remembered Shouzin and the twisted things that had once
been of his people at the final battle, as they tore and devoured
the foe.  "Yes," he said, without hesitation  "Yes, it would have 

hesitation.

been very quick."

     "I wanted to keep her safe," Cologne said.  "Without the
mitigating circumstances, they might have killed her.  But if I'd
been there, if I'd only been there."  She drew a long, choked

only been there..."  {?}

breath.  "She wasn't ready to face Fang Shi.  Damn it, why did
she come back so _soon_?  She should have stayed looking for him
in Japan for weeks.  They all should have."

     He gestured, tapped his power.  Stone flowed like water, and
an oval lump rose from the centre of the table.  He smoothed it,
until a face emerged, short hair framing the strong, solidly
attractive features.  Mei's face.

{Wow.  Now there's an interesting use of the talent.}

     All the sins were coming back.  He didn't want to believe
that Yan had returned, but it seemed he had.  All the old
nightmares.  It took him some time to realize he was laughing, 
and that the stone face on the table had cracked into fragments.

{Yipe.  Now there's an ominous use...}

     Stirred by wind, the waters of the lake lapped gently at the
banks of the island.  The island itself was small, vaguely
circular and with a circumference of about fifty feet.  The dead,

{50' circumference is 16' diameter... that's pretty small, and it's
also bloody difficult to visualize size from circumference.  Should
that be "diameter of about fifty feet"?}

     The waters turned from inky black to crystal clear, as the
walls of darkness peeled away from solidity to a roiling fog.  
Down it came,  from the sky above, turning the light sooty as it

came, from  {extra space}

     Yoko stared at her hands.  "I see now," she whispered,
turning them back and forth in front of her face.  "He was
waiting, holding them out, as reward."

     "Oh yes," the Serpent said.  "In the end, he will grant all
of our desires."

{Oh, my.  That ought to go a long way towards quelling any doubts
Yoko might have had... and it looked like she was having some.}

     He couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't stupid.

{heh.  Ranma's changed, all right.  Before, that wouldn't have
stopped him.  :) }

     "Kima was there; she ended up getting splashed.  Denkoko,
the one that came after me, was hurting her.  It sounded like you 
screaming.  So I killed her."

     It came out easily, so easy he surprised himself.  With the

so easily he  {?}

weight of the confession done, a peace descended upon him.  It
was finished.

     "Oh, Ranma."  Her hand touched his shoulder, and he felt the
weight of her body press against her back as she embraced him
from behind.  "Is that why... did you think I wouldn't..."

     "Do you?"
     
     He felt her stiffen slightly.  "No," she answered finally, 
in a low whisper.  "No, I don't."

{This is confusing to me, with its negative-positive-negative.
The first "..." isn't "forgive you" or "love you"; "understand
you", maybe?  At any rate, I puzzled over that for too long.}
 

     "I don't either.  I didn't need to kill her."  He'd thought

     "Does your arm still hurt."

hurt?"
      

     Not what he was concerned with now, though.  He could see
the wrongness of the wound, and also how Akane's body was slowly
working to heal it.  It was nothing compared to what he had done
to Kima; only a matter of speeding to process.

speeding the process.  {?}

     Akane let out a soft, breathy cry, and stared in shock at
the pale, tiny scar where the wound had been.  Ranma began to 
take a step back from her, and then a sudden surge of dizziness 
overtook him.  His hip bumped against the low railing, and he
might well have gone over the side if Akane hadn't grabbed his
sleeve and steadied him.

{Whoopsie.  Good thing you still need the characters.  :) }

     Perhaps, he thought, it will always come back to her, no 
matter how far I may go, no matter what I may do.  Whatever 
destiny hangs over me, she is the light that will bring me home.

{Ranma's humanity is hanging by a thread.  Fortunately, it's
a strong thread.  Nice.}
 

     In the hour of walking they'd done so far in this
claustrophobic tunnel, Lougui had grown no less dour than before,
and had demonstrated a preference for monosyllabic responses in
conversation.  After a few attempts, she'd simply given up on

{...and you demonstrated a preference for polysyllabic responses
in narration.  :) }

     Cologne ignored her, and handed the vial to Ranma.  "If you
would heat that up for me."

     Ranma, bless him, didn't ask any questions.  He held the

{Whack!  Cologne's POV.  Very economical.}

vial between his hands for a moment, and bubbles rose from the
bottom as the glass walls fogged with steam from the inside.  
Cologne watched the way the energy flows moved at his command
like chess pieces; he was beyond even the lineage of the royalty 
of the Musk now, shaping the underlying forces in such a way that
the world changed to conform to his will.  What he might 
ultimately be capable of she could not begin to guess at.

of, she  {?}
 

     The weight of age came back with all the force of a hammer.
Skin wrinkled, senses dulled, and her body shrunk and twisted 
into the tiny mockery of her former beauty it had once been.  
She'd forgotten how hard it was, how she always had to fight the 
stiffness of her limbs and the ravages that time had done to be 
so strong in this diminutive form.  

{Eek!  She's been pruned!  :) }
     

     As the water before had been from the Chisuiton, this water
had come from the Kaisufu.  The curse - funny to call youth

Kaisuifuu {or} Kaisuifu

     Oh, he had not beaten her easily.  She'd given him a good
fight.  But he was ten years older, stronger and more skilled,
and he'd won in the end.  No one had liked it, but it was the 
law.  And so she'd moved into her new home, with her new husband,
and the four years of hell had begun--

{Aiya.  The dark side of the Kiss of Marriage law.  I always
wondered how a Joketsuzoku was supposed to assert dominance over
a man who could defeat her... I guess sometimes she can't.}

     Fang Shi waited in the middle of the pass, hands 
white-knuckled on the shaft of her polearm.  One of the forward
scouts had brought back word a few minutes ago; Cologne had

{suggest}  ago:

returned.  And Bai Ling was with her.
     
     Bi Shou's last runner had been hours ago.  The scouts said

{suggest} had arrived hours

     The voice was subtle and persistent.  It had begun to be
audible an hour ago, soft at first, but now it was almost a 
shout.  He recognized it, of course; it was his own voice, 
calling out to him from the bottom, down in pit.

     Yanyanyanyanyanyanyan.

{Who among us hasn't heard the voices in the night?  Nice.}
     

     "Xanovere," the figure said, in a voice of utmost hate.  "So 
long, old friend.  So very, very long."

{"So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye..."  (sorry) }

     With one hand, he turned her head back to look at Cologne.
She did not resist.  He held out the staff again, as offering.
Shampoo's eyes went to the sheathed sword at her side.

     "I think it yours now," she said.
     
     Ranma nodded once, and turned away.

{Ranma's flipping back and forth between states of mundanity and
transcendence, and the swings are getting wider...}

     When Rose came out from the place of the Lady, it seemed to
Herb as though her eyes were filled with stars.  Wiyeed had left
him alone to wait for her, and so he had sat down outside the
iron door with his back against the wall and waited.  Patience
had always been among the virtues he lacked, but he found it easy

he had found  {?}

this time.

     "My brother."  One finger idly traced a circle on his neck, 
and Herd discovered how hard it could be to draw breath at a 
simple touch.  "Mother told me.  When I was young.  I had 
forgotten it, it was so long ago.  There was another girl, a
half-hour older than I was, but she only lived for a few hours
after she was born; she was too small, much smaller than I was."

{I knew a young woman once, well enough for her to tell me that
this had happened to her.  I thought then, and I think now, that
her twin's absence bothered her more than she cared to admit.
It was... spooky, then.  It's spooky now...}

     The heat of the air stung her face, and she longed for
water.  To drink, to pour over head.  She would have given
almost anything for water right now.  Even money.

{Whoa, she's serious.  :)  Nice.}

     Shouzin was grinning.  He was loving this, Ranma realized.
Never had he wanted to kill anyone more than he wanted to kill
the Undying in that moment.  But he couldn't; the first time he
had really and truly wanted to kill without hesitation since 
Denkoko's death, and he couldn't.

{Fortunately Ranma's control has grown with his powers.  He's
still right to worry about it, of course; it's when he stops
worrying that he'll be in real danger of losing himself.}

     Parts of the wings had been torn off, leaving them ragged
and bloody, and the ever-bright dark eyes were gaping sockets. 
But it was recognizably the messenger raven.  And he was alive; 
his movements were slow, and obviously caused him immense pain, 
but he lived.

{Oh, MAAAAAN...  guess my groveling way back when didn't do any
good.  *sniff*}

     Right foot down.  Left hand down.  Left foot down.  Right
hand down.  Repeat.  Funny how it got easier the longer it went 
on, Nabiki thought.  She was well over two-thirds of the way 
down now, and top of the plateau was a distant memory above her

and the top

distances, as the red clouds came rolling in above her head.  As
long as she didn't look down - except the quick glances to ensure
herself she was moving in the right direction - she was fine.  It
was a temptation those times to gaze longer, to try and number 

{Suggest}  to try to number  {because then it's the first of
three "try to"s, and I likes threes.}

the dead who moaned and writhed in the pit.  Once she got down,
she imagined it would be difficult to force herself to stretch
her hand out, to reach down into the ocean of the dead and try to
pull him out.  But she would; she vowed that she would.  After
that, she could try to figure out how they were going to get out
of here.

rotting flesh.  But she was close enough also to see Kuno's eyes,
looking up imploringly, begging for release.  And she could hear
his voice now, distinct amidst the wailing of the dead.  Even as

{Hey!  Not only is his hood off, but his eyes and tongue are back!
I can't wait to find out where they really are...}

     "Oh no," something hissed.  "Oh no, that will not do at 
all."

     And Nabiki's throat closed up tight as a vise when a corpse
with her mother's face rose up, worms spilling from its mouth.  

{EEEEEEK!}

     They had the faces of her dead.  Her mother.  Her 
grandmother on her father's side, who had died when she was six.
Her friend from the sixth grade who'd been killed by a drunk
driver that they never caught.  A hundred faceless others, 

{Aiya.  Good thing she hasn't been responsible for anyone's death,
not really (has she?), or this'd be a lot worse...}

vaguely recognized; men she'd passed on the street, faces glaring 
out from newspapers; the victims of murder, disease, accident, or 
just the wearing out, the decrepitude of the body that struck 
everyone sooner or later.  Ancient woman with wrinkled breasts, 

women  {?}

tiny bodies of stillborn children, hands, hands, everywhere 
hands, clutching, tearing at her shirt, grabbing her arms, her
hair.

     Nabiki opened her mouth to scream, and it filled up with the
scent of rotting flesh and blood, and the damp, damp stench of
death.  Then they were down, the both of them, and the dead hands
were tearing her clothes off, and they were down among the dead,
too deep to move.

{And she thought it would be easy...  I reiterate my admiration for
this bit of psychological adventure.}
 

The ground beneath him felt oddly smooth, almost glassy.  Then 
the mists began to thin out, and the land became visible.  It was
sear and cracked, a wasteland of ash and broken stone in which

sere  {?  IIRC, "sear" is the verb, and "sere" is the adjective...}

     He recognized nearly everyone else on the island.  His
mother, Soun, Akari, the Guide.  A masked woman who the shadows

woman whom the  {?}

seemed thicker around - Yamiko.  Xande, who'd escaped the

{suggest}  around: Yamiko.

     "You are the first person I have met in four thousand years
who I am not sure I could kill," Ritter replied.  "In fact, I
wonder if you could kill me.  Can you draw a blade of light?"

     "Never tried."

{heh.  Pure, distilled Ranma.  Nice.}
    

     Ritter suddenly looked very tired, so tired that a tiny part
of Ranma pitied him.  No one should have to look that weary.  "He 
lied to me.  To _me_."  The sense of betrayal was thick in his 
voice.

     "And I care because?"

{Because the ONLY chance you have of coming out of this with your
humanity intact is to never stop caring, even for your enemies,
baka!  Jeez!}

     He threw back his head, and laughed.  Baazel, the Ravager of 
Wurdsenlin, was free again on the earth.  Let all things tremble 
at his might. 

{Oh, my goodness.  Or something.}
 

**********

     On the ledge, the setting sun burned scarlet in the single
cracked lense of Genma Saotome's glasses.  The wind blew over it, 
slowly wearing down the rock.  A single black feather was caught
on the updraft, and whirled away into the sky.  Now, the ledge 
was empty of everything except the glasses.

{uh... Shiso?  gibber, wobble, thud...}

Yeah, it was long, but I think it had to be, and it was worth it.
The dominant feeling is tension building again; the players are
moving between battles.  But, gods, I don't think I'm ever going
to trust these characters again.  Samofere's showing the
same old weakness; Ranma's mind's been booby-trapped; and even
Ritter's acting squirrely.  Who else is going to break cover as
things come apart?  Lougui?

Next chapter or the one after that, the big one, yes?  Next one,
I think... but I've been wrong here too often to be sure.

Thanks for writing and sharing.  Now go finish Eidolons!  :)


Vince Seifert    Network Analyst     seifertv@csus.edu
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