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

I thank those of you who have waited patiently for this chapter.
Chapter 40, "The Night-Sea Journey", will conclude the series.
Hopefully, it will not be so long in coming as this one was.

As always, I am welcoming and appreciative of any commentary.

Well, here it is, then... one side-effect of the delay is that previous
chapters are not fresh in my mind, and so I'm sure I'm missing more
nuances than usual.  Sorry about that.  :)
 

**********

Chapter 39 : The Voice of the Rain

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
  And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
  I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
  The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the wind and sunbeams with their convex gleams
  Build up the blue domes of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
  And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
  I arise and unbuild it again.
-P.B. Shelley  

{For 10 extra-credit points, identify the three dragons and the Lord of
Waters in the preceding passage.}

     He rode upon the back of the dragon from the caverns, and 
now he fell with her towards the earth.  Down below, it had 
seemed to be the answer; to use the icy power of the Gekkaja and 

{or maybe} answer:

the heat that Rouge had left behind, to call the whirlwind and 
mix it with light and free the bound prisoner at last.

     "AWAKE!  HE IS AWAKE, I HAVE SEEN HIM, I HAVE FELT HIS HAND
UPON MY FLESH, HIS TOUCH UPON MY BODY, I HAVE GAZED INTO HIS 
FACE, INTO HIS TERRIBLE FACE, THE MOUTH THAT SWALLOWS THE STARS,
THE EYES THAT ARE THE CRUCIBLES OF WORLDS!  AWAKE HE IS, AND WE
ARE DOOMED, DOOMED!"

{uh... I have NO idea who she's channelling...}

limply to the ground when he released it.  Nearby, the Musk
soldiers left to guard them clutched their swords and spears as
they glared around suspiciously.

{They just realized they're redshirts...}

     Slowly, she turned at the familiar voice, and saw Ukyou
running towards them, closely trailed by Konatsu.  Was absolutely
_everybody_ Ranma had every met going to show up?

had ever met
  

     Even before she fully registered that, she was turning 
again, at the sound of Ukyou's scream.  What she saw made her
feel as though her heart was being crushed in a vice.  Konatsu,
smiling as he did it, had driven his short sword directly into
the small of her back.

{I guess he redeemed it from the pawnshop... this'd be a pretty silly
time to be using a takemitsu. Or did that happen earlier in WUE, and
I've forgotten? I swear, I'll reread the whole thing after you release
40.}

     Who were not moving.  They stood, side to side, and watched

side by side {?}

the slow approach of the black-clad woman without fear.

     So much for my looks, she thought vaguely.  The blow had
ripped her cheek open; even air upon the flapping wound was
agony.  She hung on, and saw in disbelief that neither Kasumi or
Kodachi was moving.  They were watching.

neither Kasumi nor Kodachi were moving.
  

     "Run, you idiots!" Nabiki screamed.  Or tried; the agony of

tried to; {?}

moving her mouth was too much, and the salty taste of blood from
her ripped cheek washed down her throat in a tide.

     Even with skill the Dragon's Blade lent him, he had barely

with the skill

survived this long.  His arms ached from parrying the hammering 
blows of his foe's much larger sword, and dusty sweat was 
running down his face to sting his eyes.

     With a yank, the man pulled the sword free, doing 
irreparable damage to the inside of Herb's body.  A tide of blood

{In light of what happens later, "irreparable" is perhaps not quite the
right word, but up to you. :) }

exploded from his mouth onto the dust, and he began to fall
forward.

     And he realized, in that moment, just what the Dragon's
Blade was.  Not only a weapon, but a reliquary; the souls of all
the kings, from the days of the Dragon Tribe to the Musk, were
held within it.  That was why he had been so skilled - they had
aided him.

{Hoooo.  Nice notion.}

     'For there is no remembrance of the wise more than the fool
for ever; seeing that which now is in the days to come shall all
be forgotten.  And how dies the wise man? as the fool.'

As the fool.' {?  feels like it might be uncapped on purpose...}

     'There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat
and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his 
labour.'

{I really need to keep that in mind myself...}

     Akane fired, pushed sweaty hair out of her eyes, fired 
again.  Nearly out of arrows now - she had to choose her shots
carefully.

{Point of terminology: it is a somewhat-snobbish point among archers, or
at least the guys I used to menace haybales with, that one does not
"fire" an arrow unless one is using it for kindling. :) Shoot, loose,
let fly (you use "let fly" later), but not "fire", as that word is for
those upstart weapons based on gunpowder. It's like "spelunking" to a
caver; the general public may use that word, but cavers don't.}

     She didn't note that it was the special arrow, the one

notice {?}

Lougui had given her, shaped from a single piece of wood.  The
world did not allow such information, because it did not matter.

{heh. The magic arrow has a long and honorable tradition in
storytelling, partly because of the desperation of staking everything on
one shot; a magic sword can be used over and over again, but a magic
arrow is one shot.}

     Akane nocked the arrow, and let it fly through the 
impossible expanse.

{You could put "drew" between "nocked" and "let fly", but it is implied
adequately, I think. :) }
 

**********
     
     A dark place.  No, not dark, her eyes simply weren't open.
Even through her eyelids she could vague shapes moving.  It all

{"could vague"?  Need verb: "discern", perhaps?}

looked like a sheet of black cloth rippling in the wind.

     "It requires a mouthpiece," Mousse said.  Once she had
recognized the voice, she had begun to see his features emerge
from the being that stood before her.  

{Ahh, that's right, he's working for the youngest sister now...}

     "A mouthpiece?  I don't have..."
     
     Then she smiled, and pulled on the leather strap around her
neck.  The whistle popped forth from it concealment in her

from its

clothing.  So she had clothing, now, and a body to wear them.  
Perhaps she was simply adjusting to this place.

{Or perhaps there's nothing simple about it at all.}
 

     Unsurprised after all that had happened, he looked at the
black bird sitting with folded wings at his feet.  "Is that you?"

     I am the memory.  I do not die.  My sibling is the thought,
and dies to live again.

{Yes. The ravens were my first clue to what was going on under the
surface of Waters, many moons ago...}

     There was no gesture or word of power.  Such things were
ostentation at this degree of might.

{Excellent.}

     Wiyeed did not respond.  Oh, Lady, she thought; give me

thought,

strength, for she is so very strong.  

     It never fell.  Scything through the protective circle 
around Yoko from the air, a monstrous shape, all wings and 
tentacles and shaggy fur, descended upon Yoko like the fall of a
hammer.  From his seat between the great horns of the beast, a
short man laid about himself with a crimson battle aura shot
through with black flame.  

{!  I'll bet you get fanart of THAT.}

     Nodoka felt the first few raindrops hit her hands and face,
and somehow she knew that it was over.  But at what cost?  More
people were dead then alive upon the ridge - all their guards, 

dead than alive

Nabiki, Ukyou, Yamiko... Akari wasn't moving and her breathing 
was slow, Soun's face was pale as the Guide tried to keep him
from getting up so that he could be bandaged, and Ukyou's killer,
whom she vaguely remembered from the wedding, had collapsed with
a scream after Kodachi had spoken.

     The Guide finished tightening the torn sleeve from his 
jacket around Soun's stomach.  Nearby, the bloodied knife lay on
the ground.  It had been, fortunately, a shallow wound.  

     Soun brushed aside the Guide's meagre attempts to restrain
him, and stumbled over to where Nabiki's body lay.  He crumpled 

him and

     Both girls spoke in synch, identical words at identical

{or maybe} in unison,

times.  "I am not yet finished with her.  Do not fear; she will
return."

     Nodoka pulled down the soft, pliable leather mask that
covered the woman's mouth.  The first glimpse of what lay beneath
made her yank them back in revulsion.

{"them"?  Her hands?  Looks like revision tracks...}
 

     Ryoga cupped his hands, stretched them out, and let the
pain come forth.  A full Shishi Hokodan could not be risked with 
allies so close.  The straight blast cut through massed ranks 
like a spear, smashing bodies apart from the sheer pressure.  
When it ended, it looked like some great god had swept a sword 
through the enemy.

     The well was not yet empty, though.  No, he had barely 
dipped into it.  Ryoga nearly smiled.

{But not quite, bcause then his ki wouldn't be heavy enough. :) I knew
he'd do that as soon as things got bad enough...}

     With a howl of pure rage, he drove his arms down to his 
sides.  The ground depressed in a wide circle all around him, 
dust and loose rocks rose into the air, and the pillar of light
stretched from earth to sky.

{Um... isn't this a bit out of sequence? It looks to me like Ryoga
summons the PSSH with his arms out, gets a pillar of light (or
something) with rising rocks, then lowers his arms to his sides as the
globe of heavy ki falls on him, punching the "depression" (heh) into the
ground. See manga v20p75-76 and Cologne's explanation on p78...}

     It fell, and, as it fell, the rain began to fall.  The touch
of that gentle precipitation had more effect upon the foe than
anything he had done ever had.  A raindrop fell upon the one
closest to him, and it began to dissolve.  Its scaly flesh slid
off its bones like water, and for a second a skeleton and its
malformed, pumping organs stood upright.  Then the bones, and all
else, dissolved into water, and drained away into the earth.

{Oh, ick.}

     All around him, he saw it happening, and as it became clear
to him that soon there would be nothing left for him to kill, the
rage gave way at least to grief.  Tears falling down his face, he

gave way at last {?}

turned and walked back past the dying of the enemy towards where
Bai and Shampoo lay.

     An attempt was made to rise, but the effort was too much.

{"an attempt was made"? Sorry, but ugh...}

Grateful for the support of the hard ground beneath her, she sank
bank, and then realized she could not feel her wings.  Raining, 
of course.

{I don't understand "of course"; what does the rain have to do with her
wings? Oh. Akaneniichuan. Never mind. Well, you might want to make it a
little more obvious for those of us who are slow on the uptake. :) }

     "Some die young, and some die old, some die hot, and some
die cold."

     It escaped her lips involuntarily, an old children's rhyme.
She cupped her brother's hand in both of hers and brought it up     
to her lips.  

{"Ashes, ashes, all fall down..." :) And I think more American kids
should get The Brothers Grimm instead of Disney, too. }
 

     "Not by you or I," Wiyeed answered.  She put her brother's
hand upon his chest and prepared to let go, now and forever.  One
last squeeze of his hand, and then... then he would be taken to 
the Mouth of the Dragon, and go to join their mother and their
father.

{Hah. I wonder if the Mouth of the Dragon ceremony has anything to do
with the Dragon's Blade? Naah, couldn't be. :) }

     With a joyous, disbelieving cry, Wiyeed looked up and cried
out, "The king lives!".  The cry rose in the throat of every

lives!" {period muyo!}

warrior of the Musk there, and carried throughout the army.  

     He spoke as if he had not heard her.  "No, I am done with
this.  I shall not drink of this cup they offer me."  His eyes 
closed again, and he weakly brought one hand up to cover the 
place where his heart used to be, as though against the falling
rain.  So, having done thus, he took one last breath, and died.

{Now that's a death scene from legend.  Excellent.}

     It would have been bizarre, except that it wasn't much
stranger than anything else that had happened recently.

{heh.  That's Ukyo.  Very firm grip on, uh, fantasy.  :) }
  

     He nodded weakly, and she touched his hand, and said, "Then
perhaps it's over, now."     

{For sufficiently narrow definitions of "over"...}

     Bai opened her eyes and smiled thinly.  "You not getting 
rid of me that easily, stupid man."

{Woops.  Now he's in REAL trouble.  :) }

     Nabiki had been washed clean.  The rain had rinsed the blood
from her body, and left only the ragged wounds of her death.

{Not healed her... interesting. I guess, from what the sisters said,
that her path back will be a little different...}
  

     Nodoka slapped him.  His grief dissolved at the look on her
face.

{You go, Nodoka.  Jeez, Soun, get a grip.}

     "Nabiki is not the only one who has died," she said in a low
voice.  "Look down and see how many greave for their dead on that

grieve {although one may find a lot of greaves on a battlefield too. :) }

battlefield."

     He could not say which hand, that of Life or Death, had
touched him then.  It did not matter, he realized.  He perceived
them as sisters, and they showed themselves as such, because it
was one way that was true.  There were more.

{I think this needs "one way that that was true"...}
 

     The dragon opened her eyes, unfolded wings no longer broken,
and rose into the sky as fire filled Ranma's world.

{"She was only resting!" It's still a sacrifice even if she returns to
life; ask any Christian. The cycle continues...}

     "My claim is older," Kuno replied, and they locked eyes for 
a moment.  Then the older man nodded, and gestured to the
warriors, and the circle moved aside to let him through.

{suggest} circle parted to

     "You killed my mother," he said, low and cold.  "You tried
to kill my sister, and yet she lived."     

{suggest} yet she lives."
  

     "Aye," Kuno said, and nodded.  "But has it not been said 
that there is a time for all things under the sun, a time to 
kill, and perhaps a time not to?"

{perhaps} a time to spare?"

     "I am Tatewaki Kuno, fair one," he replied.  "And you are?"
     
     She opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped, and 
pointed to the north.  A red tinge crept across the sky, as 
though it were the setting or the rising of the sun, and it did 
seem as though it was, for in the distance, burning with the 
flames that would not be extinguished, the winged shape of a 
phoenix-dragon was rising, up into and beyond the sky.
     
     And for him, it really was over.

{Who, Tatewaki?  This eludes me...}

     Damp wood was not supposed to burn so easy.  Perhaps it was

easily.

something about the rain, for next to everything else it had 
done, being flammable was almost blase.  Or perhaps the 
Joketsuzoku had treated the wood somehow, for the flames burned
brighter and hotter than any she had seen the instant they were
lit.

     This was what Nabiki would have wanted.  One time - one of
the only times - they had talked about their mother after she
died, Nabiki had said she wanted to cremated, and as quickly as

to be cremated,

possible, when she died.  No worms to eat the body, no grave for
people to come to year after year to mourn...

     Another cloud of sparks rose, and died.  The flames wrapped
Nabiki's body like a blanket.  The Joketsuzoku had prepared the
body, cleaned the wounds of her death as well they could, put

as best they could, {or} as well as they could,

simple robes upon her, and built the pyre.  Then they had left
those who would witness the passage to their grief.

     "There is no sign of him," she said, soft and weary.  "Not 
at Jusendo, or Jusenkyou, nor at the place where we guess the

nor Jusenkyou,

dragon fell.  We are still searching.  I thought you would like
to know."

     Kima folded her hands in front of her.  "Perhaps he did."
She sighed gently.  "When someone dies, we say a phoenix carries
the soul towards the heavens.  If the person has a virtuous soul,
the phoenix will have many feathers, enough to make it past the
burning rays of the sun.  If there soul is heavy with evil, they

their soul {or just} the soul

wings of the phoenix will burn away in the sun, and the soul 
shall fall to earth, to be plucked by the White Bird and fed into
the endless maw of the King of Ashes."

     "What a horrible story," Akane said.  No, it really didn't 
seem to be her speaking; there were three people here, the girl
watching her sister's body lie unburned amidst the flames, the
girl speaking, the girl hearing herself speak...

{Threes again?  Or still?  :) }

     There was silence now.  The sense of dislocation ended, and
Akane stood beside Kima, within the circle of friends and family
and acquaintances, and watched the pyre burn down to ashes.  And,
when it had become ashes, Nabiki's body, unburned, untouched,
still lay amidst them.

{Which raises the interesting question "now what"? I'd put it in a
crypt, carefully not locking the door, myself.}

     "<Journey easy.  The battle is done.>"  A multitude of
torches reflected in the mountain stream, as the ashes of another
Joketsuzoku joined those floating or sinking within the shallow
depths.  The Musk and the Phoenix had gathered their dead - they
had rituals of their own to perform.  This was the Joketsuzoku's,
way the quick flame of the funeral pyre and the offering to the 

Joketsuzoku's way:  {or even} Joketsuzoku way:

water.

     Shampoo stepped back from the rocky banks, shaking the last
of Hui Shu's ashes from her fingers and into the water.  The girl
had been two years younger, and she hadn't known her well, but
she had seen her fall and die to an enemy spear.  All along the
dark banks of the river, other Joketsuzoku, at least a hundred 

hundred, scattered

scattered the ashes of more fallen warriors.  The slow drift of 
the stream carried the remains along its flow, towards the
underground, eventually to the sea.

{Aye, and we've heard those words before, haven't we...}

     So many dead, and so many who should have died.  From what
she understood, only the very recently slain - perhaps those who
had been lingering between this world and the next - had risen 
with the rain.  It seemed neither right nor fair that seem would

that some would

live who should have died, when so many others lay dead.  But
fairness, rightness... neither of those things were a part of
this world.

     A whip-thin sapling waved in the breeze as the two of them
navigated a steeper section.  Shampoo picked her way carefully

{suggest} negotiated a steeper

down the trail, occasionally touching her hand to the rocky side
of the cliff in the darkness.  "<And what do we do now?>" 

     Bai gave a tiny, nearly imperceptible shrug.  "<I need to go
find my husband.  He's off with that... woman, whoever she is.>"
She frowned darkly, showing white teeth in the night.  

     For a moment, Shampoo considered saying something, but in 
the end, she remained silent.  Would she have listened at the
beginning to any advice against the path she took?  No; the 
players changed, the roles remained the same.  There was no end
to it.

{ "Bai Ling, meet Katsunishiki."  "BWEEEE!"  :) }

     She edged over, patted the space beside her on the rock.  
"<Where's the horse?>"

     He did not sit.  Faint lines of white fire glowed in the
darkness from beneath the closed slits of his eyes.  "<I don't
know.  It goes somewhere when I don't need it.>"

{Is it named "Binky"? :) }

     "<What's happened to you, Mousse?>" 
     
     The black robes looked far too big for him, and the spear
too large.  His wrists and fingers were painfully thin, and his
face sunken and hollow.  Yet he did not look weak.  It seemed as
though all excess of flesh was being bled away from him.  When he
smiled at her, though, it was more gentle than it had ever been.
"<I have what I want, Shampoo.>"

{I kind of like the spear rather than the scythe. A different metaphor.}

     "<I won't see you again, will I?>" she asked.
     
     A smile flickered and died upon his face.  "<Oh, I think
you'll see me at least once,>" he said, as if it were a joke she
didn't get.

{I'm a little surprised she doesn't get it; it has to be on her mind...}
     

     He flicked the reins once, and the horse canted into the air

cantered

as if ascending a gentle slope.  Its hooves made no sound as it 
left the ground, nor any at is walked upon empty air.

any as it walked

     Heart strangely heavy, Shampoo slumped back down onto the
rock and thought of nothing at all for a long time.  Finally, she
got up and began to walk back towards the camp.  Distantly, she 
heard the chirping of cicadas.  Perhaps the wildlife were 
returning already.

animals were {or} wildlife was {?}

     It was difficult to see where one motion ended and another 
began, because even moments of stillness seemed to part of the
same movement, an endless dance with existence without beginning
or end.  She tried to imagine what his speed would be like, and
could not.  His hair was unbound from its pigtail, and fell past 
his shoulders in a wave.  Light seemed to shine deep within his 
eyes, as if the power that filled him was nearly too great for 
his body to contain.

{Funny thing about that...}

     Akane cried out.  They merged into one.  The sea rolled over
them.  Salt stung her eyes, and she wept.  He kissed her eyes,
lips brushed lashes damp with tears.  The light filled the room
like gentle rain, like the rain falling on the bloody field...

     She cried out again, and clutched him to her, as though she
would never let him go, even though she knew that after this had
ended, she had no choice but to do so.

END OF CHAPTER 39

Akane... I thought something like that would happen. Ranma's beyond her
now, no matter how much she wants to stay with him or he with her.
However, that doesn't mean he can't visit from time to time... but I
have the sinking feeling that, in proper legendary fashion, this one
time is it. If this is a proper legend, mind you, she conceived from it.
Well, we'll see, I'm sure.

Thanks for writing and sharing!

Vince Seifert    Fanfic Analyst     seifertv@csus.edu
http://www.csus.edu/indiv/s/seifertv/toth/
Ideas are worth their weight in gold.


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