The usual, yet once more, plus parts of this are darkdarkdark. YHBW.
Also, remember that Ranma only regains her heroic stature at the end of this chapter, so
anything weird about her is related to that.
Once more, please C&C. This part is Akane and Ranma, and an unusual road home.
Disclaimer: The playground is by Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only
swinging on the monkey bars. Remember to leave the grounds
cleaner than you found them and please don't feed the
Trolls.
"A Sto'r Mo Chroi'" ("Darling of my Heart" or "The American
Wake") is still Traditional. "The Whistling Pig" belongs, as
far as I know, to Robert Frezza. I don't know who wrote
"'Tis Mute ...", I lost the book. Whoever it is, they did a
good job. "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is by Simon and
Garfunkle.
Warning: This part is [Dark] and may very well be [Squicky]
as well. Depending on how you look at it, it may also
deserve a [Lemon] or [Lime] tag, too, not to mention [WAFF].
You Have Been Warned.
By popular demand, the majority of this episode should be
read to Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi from Carl Orff's Carmina
Burana.
You can find a MP3 at the site below.
This story is archived at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/
Release 1.0 (Sept. 20, 1999)
------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma and Akane: A Love Story
Chapter 5: Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi
Part C: Under The Axis
------------------------------------------------------------
Akane almost made it.
Less than fifty feet from the wall, one of her demonic
pursuers proved to have an exceedingly rare talent, and
shifted the ground beneath her feet. The resulting stumble
cost her almost no ground; but small differences can lead to
big ones.
A demonic hand grabbed her flying hair less than ten feet from
the wall. Twisting her torso half back towards her pursuers,
Akane exploded in one last effort, lofting Sayuri's
unconscious body in a flat, fast arc across the last ten feet,
and over the low stone wall. As it crossed the wall it rippled
in mid-air, and disappeared, and Akane went down under the
impact of a dozen winged demons, a few more pulling up at the
last instant.
------------------------------------------------------------
In the hospital bed, Sayuri gave a sudden gasp and sat
half-way up and out of bed. The people attending her rushed to
meet her as her eyes opened, and her father and brother
quickly moved to support her as she met her mother's eyes.
Blinking a few times, she seemed briefly to focus as she
crossed gazes with a tearfully smiling Yuka and even gave a
weak smile herself. But then her eyes fell closed and she
slumped back into her father and brother's arms as a dead
weight, as Dr. Tofu desperately reached for emergency
materials, and the connecting monitors began to ring alarms,
all their readouts showing the same flat line.
------------------------------------------------------------
Akane threw herself into a forward roll, bringing one demon
over the top of her body and grinding it beneath her as she
came out of the roll and jumped up. The demon who had grabbed
her hair had, perforce, let go, and Akane left her feet in a
whirling jump-kick that smashed into another demon's head,
breaking its neck and throwing Akane herself a little
sideways, into a relatively clear area and away from the
intersecting hellbolts that would otherwise have fried her.
Snap-drawing her throwing knives, Akane shih-sheathed and
threw them in a single motion, two knives flying from each
hand to suddenly veer apart in mid-air, each knife flickering
on slightly differing trajectories to settle neatly into its
own particular demonic throat. Following through on her throw,
Akane drew a large, ugly mace from jacket-space, and charged
the remaining demons.
The one most immediately in her path jumped up, flaring its
wings in dismay, rising about ten feet off the ground. Akane
also left the ground, soaring in a rising jump kick that
smashed the demon from the air, sending it down to the ground
with Akane on top of it, landing on her feet, and pulling
through into a powerful downward blow.
Rebounding from the skull she had just crushed, Akane
converted her recovery into a powerful upwards diagonal
right-to-left, anticipating the demon who attempted to rush
her while she was occupied with the flyer, and impacting its
chest just under the breastbone. The impact shattered the
demon's chest and lungs, lifting it about six feet into the
air and sending it to the side, where its corpse fouled one of
its compatriots.
Meanwhile, the transferred impact had allowed Akane to regain
control of the mace faster, and she used the extra time to
steal a march, stepping into the attack of a pair of demons
ahead of her. Whirling her mace in a vertical circle, Akane
knocked their weapons out of line, nearly jarring one's axe
loose from its wielder's hand. Finishing the circle with her
mace held horizontally, head to the left, Akane stepped behind
the demon to her right, bringing her torso around in a
smashing reverse blow to the back of its head with the mace's
finial spike; then unwinding into a sideways blow to the demon
on her left that slid over its weaponless guard to pulp its
head like a popped water-balloon.
Returning her mace to a mid-guard, two-hand grip, Akane turned
eighty degrees to her left, to meet the charge of another
demon. Blocking its sword-swing away to her lower right with
the mace, Akane spun her right foot into a leg sweep that took
its footing out from under it. The demon stumbled, opening its
stance onto the perfect form to receive Akane's returning kick
into the groin, stunning it and dropping it rolling to the
ground. Quick-stepping forward, Akane brought her mace to
shoulder guard for the death-blow ... and made a small
mistake.
A small mistake. A minor error. A downward blow a bit too
forceful, a recovery a bit too far, a return not quite to
center. The next attacker, coming from her left again, threw
its long knife.
Small differences compounded: a dodge not quite fast enough, a
shallow cut across the shoulder not quite compensated for, a
block made the tiniest bit too low. The demons reaching
claw-like hand came over her blocking mace and cut into the
side of her face.
Three of its claw-tipped fingers scored bleeding gashes across
the side of her face and nose. The last slid across the outer
top of her cheek, and plunged into her eye, cutting the
eyeball in two and reducing the remains to jelly before the
tip broke off inside the socket and the rest of the claw
skipped across the top of her nose.
Letting out a high, keening shriek, Akane spun away, the mace
arcing from the hand that she clapped to her ruined eye.
Stumbling away, she lost her footing, and sprawled helpless on
the barren ground.
------------------------------------------------------------
A body kneels in a circular design in a no-longer quiet room.
Wounds have opened on its cheek and nose, and an oozing mass
of clotting blood is leaking from beneath the lid of its
closed left eye.
------------------------------------------------------------
In the end, it was her father's training that saved her.
Once, long ago at the very beginning of her real training in
the Art, he had spent an entire day on a single drill. It
taught, he said, that a warrior must not lose focus or control
simply because his or her opponent has landed a blow. The
warrior who wins her fights and survives, he said, is the
warrior who understands that pain is merely information, and
who can acknowledge that information and go on.
For one entire day he had made her go through basic kata and
hit her as she reached the crucial point in each. Again and
again he had repeated the drill, until she had been able to
complete any kata she could do, even if she was hit painfully
hard at the exact wrong time.
A kindly man, Soun Tendo, and devoted to his daughter. A
kindly man who had been hard for one day, for just long enough
to teach that daughter a lesson in the hard rules of survival.
A kindly man who had, thereafter, stayed drunk for an entire
week, and had never attempted to teach that lesson again.
One lesson, delivered long ago by a kindly, doting parent. One
lesson, polished into instinct by years of personal practice.
Akane had always prided herself on being 'tough'. On being
able to take a blow and still fight. 'Go ahead and hit me,'
she had once told a sparring partner, 'I don't break.' In that
moment, instinct and bone-deep training fought for her life,
and searched for any chance at all.
Rolling over as she fell, Akane's right hand scrabbled for
purchase on the ground. Sliding across the dirt, it fell upon,
and closed on, the hilt of a weapon.
Rolling over onto her back and coming to one knee, she brought
the ... blade? ... up to block away a demonic sword-blow so
forcefully as to throw the demon who had perpetrated it into
another to its side, then came erect with a massive, diagonal
bottom-right-to-top-left slash that cut through the first
demon's midsection and its compatriot's chest, exiting from
the top of its right shoulder in a spray of bone and ichor.
Setting her feet firmly beneath her, Akane reversed the long
sword's blade and swept it back to her right, cutting off both
demons' heads in passing. Rage and hatred blocked the pain,
and her face was set in a snarling mask as she compensated for
the missing half of her peripheral vision, turning her head in
little sweeps left and right. Finding no flankers, she
returned the sword to middle guard and lunged at her remaining
foes.
The combat was brief. Two demons were before her side-by-side,
with another three in a cluster beyond them and to their left.
Akane went between the first two with an attack Ranma had
drilled her on, soukongou, twin thunderbolts.
The long, intricately guarded hilt of the sword was perfect
for controlled two-hand use, she found, and the grey,
double-edged, chisel-point blade seemed positively eager,
leaping to the attack and lopping off demonic heads as though
they were but heads of grain.
Beyond the two were three more; one leapt forward, one
followed cautiously, one hung back. Akane met the first's
attack with a sideways skip and a crossing blow that cut its
throat before a turning kick smashed it into the third,
knocking it from its feet. She stepped forward into the
second's way, cutting through its guard and its body with an
equal lack of ceremony. Recovering from the blow, she slid
over to where the third demon sprawled, reversed her grip on
the sword, and thrust downwards, once.
Turning to look down the slope she had just climbed, Akane was
startled to notice that the distance had changed. What had
been a run of long minutes going up was perhaps a thousand
yards or so going down. She supposed that was part of what
Ranma had meant.
Ranma.
Reluctantly, she turned her single gaze to the canyon mouth.
She could not see all the way into the canyon, having
apparently moved a little to the side, but she noticed a thin
scattering of demons spraying out from the canyon mouth. Ranma
herself she could not see, but she _could_ see demons
clustering thickly just inside the mouth of the canyon,
walling off the exit. Further inside, a storm was raging,
lightning exploding off the walls and the rocks that lined the
canyon's rim.
'She isn't going to be able to break free,' she said to
herself, 'they're already behind her.'
'No,' she replied quietly, 'she's not. And I think she knew
that when she sent us up here.'
Akane remained standing quietly, looking down on the plain
below for long minutes, and the pain in her ruined eye was
matched by the pain in her heart.
'She told us to get out of here,' she finally ventured.
'No,' she replied, 'she told us to get _Sayuri_ out. We've
done that.'
'Look at it this way,' she argued, 'What could we do if we
were with her, except die?'
'Look at it this way,' she answered, 'What can we do _without_
her, except die?'
Tears slowly began to drip from her right eye, perhaps
matching the slow drip of blood from the left.
'She wanted us to get out,' she said slowly, 'to survive.'
Her hand came up unconsciously, gently touching the scars on
her left cheek, slowly exploring their extent.
'_I_ don't want us to get out, or survive, unless she survives
too.'
Her probing fingers encountered her eye socket. 'And besides,
some bastard down there owes us an eye.'
'So we go down there and die?' she asked.
'So we go down there,' she replied, 'and die.'
Akane withdrew her sword from its resting place with a
*squelch* and took her first step down the slope.
Two steps later she was jogging.
Three steps after that, and then she ran.
The outriders were the first to notice her. Spreading out from
the main battle, most were, by definition, looking for
something safer to do than challenging an Invincible. A
wounded girl running toward them looked tailor made. They
formed a battle line and sent out a net of skirmishers, in
case she should get away. Yelling their battle cries, they
raised arms against her.
As well might the iron ingots cry out against the blast
furnace. As well might the stalks of wheat take up the sword
against the scythe.
Reaching the entrance to the canyon, she was momentarily
distracted by a small squad of demonic soldiers making a
suicide attack from just outside the canyon to her right. As
the last demon died Akane saw, beyond it, a small secondary
canyon leading off into the badlands in a new direction.
Spinning on her heel, she ran swiftly into the mouth of the
canyon proper, cutting down another small party of demons.
Just inside the canyon mouth she ran into the main horde,
beyond them she could catch glimpses of lightning fast
destruction.
Cursing, Akane plowed into the back of the demonic army,
desperately swiveling her head from side to side to scan the
whole field of her foes.
------------------------------------------------------------
In a room both near and far away another battle was taking
place.
Dr. Tofu instituted emergency resuscitation procedures as
another doctor, hastily summoned, ran in the door. The crackle
of electrical paddles and the humm-hiss of artificial
respiration units sounded over the numbed prayers of Sayuri's
father and brother and Yuka's weeping, muffled by Sayuri's
mother's chest.
In the circle in the corner, two bodies grew and healed
collections of wounds. Gashes and scars covering exposed arms
and occasionally tracing across still faces.
Battle wounds, Nabiki knew. The minor and major injuries
sustained by people who are fighting for life, or things more
precious yet. Clenching her hands into white-knuckled balls
she silently urged them on.
------------------------------------------------------------
Turn ... block left, strike up ... v-step over blow ...
pear-splitter ... helicopter ... circle block to low thrust
feint to v-strike inverted.
Don't bother with _their_ actions; they aren't important.
Victory is achieved by the correct control of flow and timing.
Act in such a manner as to force their errors, then take
advantage.
Twin-thunderbolt ... break-the-fortress ... spin around push,
and _kick_ ... slash-feint to lunge ... parry to riposte, turn
left and _strike_.
Don't listen to your doubts or fears, listen to her voice.
Beloved voice, '"When they outnumber you, you have to get in
amongst 'em, Acchan. Remember that they may be bigger than you
and they may be better than you, but you don't _ever_ have to
let them be _meaner_ than you. So _use that advantage_! And
don't get killed. It'd make me get all depressed."'
Low-to-high-to-high-to-low diagonal cross ... jump and _cut_
... feint left and roll right and slash _up_ and then whirl to
block and _heave_.
A demon went flying into a group of its fellows and then Akane
heard the roar. Before her the demonic army lifted up into the
air as Ranma called the Hiryuu Shoten Ha again. And there she
was, riding the cyclone up into the sky.
If Akane had had a rope, she could have thrown it to her and
yanked her away to where she could run. Akane had no rope to
throw, but she threw one anyway.
"_Ranchaaan!_ _CATCH!_"
To say that Ranma was startled would be to considerably
underestimate the case. She had been concentrating on her
quest to find a worthwhile, accessible target to the exclusion
of all else, and had not seen Akane's charge. As she caught
the rope and began to swing she also began to rage.
Catching up the power of her storm, she collected it and let
the winds die. Sending a small amount of power down the rope,
she fixed a point midway down in space and swung to a landing
near Akane. As she neared she began to snarl, but then caught
sight of Akane's face and fell silent as her heart sent up a
wail of grief. "Acchan, wha...."
"SHADDAP! RUN! THAT WAY!"
Suiting deed to word, Akane pounded for the rear mouth of the
canyon. Re-sheathing her sword, Ranma followed. Behind then a
roar went up, and the demonic armies lunged for the canyon
mouth in pursuit.
As she reached the rear of the canyon, Ranma stopped and
whirled.
Concentrating all the power she had remaining from the storm
that had raged in that canyon, she made a small change to its
substance, and released it into the canyon walls. Already
sensitized by repeated battle strikes and magic releases, the
walls responded. The upper six meters of their surface turned
to energy and roared out onto the frontal plain, focused by
the remaining walls.
The canonical sound-effect for this type of action is:
*Krakata-THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
Ranma and Akane fled into the side canyon, quickly finding
that it forked and re-forked, spreading out into a web of
pathways. Ranma led, changing pathways randomly as she ran.
"So," she panted, "what's the plan?"
"Fuck if I know," Akane responded, "I hoped _you'd_ have one."
"Oh great! We're gonna die!"
On the plain in front of the canyon a shining figure rose to
its feet, smoking. Slowly, it looked around itself, and sprang
into the air and rose, shining like a star. As it rose, it let
off a roar of hate and rage that can only be described as
cataclysmic.
Over her shoulder as she ran, Ranma glimpsed the shining
figure. "Oh great! We really _are_ gonna die!"
The First of the Fallen looked down from his height at the
canyon-maze where his enemies hid. More or less at random, he
destroyed part of it. It wasn't the right part, but the demons
who had been flying down it got to die forever in excruciating
agony anyway.
Ranma ran frantically, Akane on her heels. She ducked around a
corner and fled down a side passage, picking a new direction
at random at its end.
'We're _dead_!', she said to herself, 'We can't hold off the
First. We can't get _to_ him, and there isn't _anywhere_ he
can't go after us!'
Two passages later, she replied, quietly, 'Yes there is.'
A dash down a rocky corridor, '_Oh_ no. We gotta save Acchan's
life here. We can't go _there_! Fuck, that'll kill her too!'
Turn left, down the canyon floor, left again. 'Death _there_
may be retrievable. Death at the first's hands is not. This is
a fight to save Akane. _That_ is how we win. Do it,
Invincible!'
Skidding to an instant halt, balanced on her back foot, Ranma
formed her fingers into the call position for the Butterfly's
Kiss. Done one way, this technique will reduce rock to powder.
Done another, it will rend a human being asunder. As Ranma did
it now, the floor of the canyon for a hundred yards in front
of the two girls broke apart into small square surfaces which
vanished like a bad CGA effect, leaving a gaping hole down
into a black infinity.
Slamming to a halt on the very edge of disaster, Akane
sheathed her sword in automatic reflex, waving her arms for
balance.
Behind her, Ranma exploded off her back foot, gathering Akane
into her arms and jumping out with a mighty leap. Out over the
rift, and then down, into the dark.
------------------------------------------------------------
Paddles snapped and contacts closed. Sayuri's body jerked in
reaction, and then moved, slightly, on its own. Monitors
jerked off flatline and began to *beep*. And the watchers
around the bed slumped slightly in relief.
------------------------------------------------------------
And in the sky over a blasted plain, a shining figure howled
in a frustrated rage forty centuries old.
And in a castle in the Scottish highlands, the redhead fell
down, shocked. The short-haired brunette shivered, uneasily,
and the long- haired one looked up from what she was doing to
trade worried glances with the blue-skinned man with the odd
face and the blonde girl with the tail.
The tall blonde man near the hearth looked clueless, of
course, but _that_ was normal, so nobody noticed.
And in the choking darkness of the depths of the Pacific Ocean
something awoke and stirred. Tasting Wrong, it turned its head
toward the distant invisible light.
And in a shrine in the mountains of central Japan, a man came
upright from a position of meditation.
And in a gun shop in Chicago, two young woman shivered
briefly, as though feeling a chill breeze.
And in a business office in Hong Kong, a middle-aged woman
echoed them.
And in a clean, well-lit room in the sewers under New York
City, another meditator came awake.
And in a small town in America, a man turned to his scrying
crystal.
And in a city made of stone, the chorus of bells fell silent.
And in many other places, many people shivered, or turned to
search out an enemy, or used senses magical or mundane to
track down a sudden feeling of Bad.
------------------------------------------------------------
In circles within another circle two bodies sat silently.
And exhaled, with a long, quavering hiss. And did not breathe
again.
Outside the circle, Tendo Nabiki put her face into her hands
and began, silently, to cry.
------------------------------------------------------------
You can turn off 'O Fortuna' now, if you like.
------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
\ /
:
Down.
It
was dark.
And silent.
There was no light,
no sound.
Not even the rush
of wind.
Not even the flashes you get
behind closed eyelids.
Just darkness,
and silence.
And she
was all alone.
And she
f
e
l
l
d
o
w
n
.
Darkness.
It was dark,
and she
was falling
all alone.
All alone.
There was
nothing she could see,
nothing she could touch.
She moved her hands,
waved them about,
but there was nothing.
She patted herself,
to make sure
that _she_ was there,
and she was.
So that was something.
She felt her face.
(Her eye! Her eye was gone!)
(It had been gone)
(before)
(before it was dark)
(when she stood at the wall)
(and turned away)
(press on.)
She patted her chest
and shoulders,
she moved down her body,
and touched ...
what?
Arms?
Why were there arms?
Were they _her_ arms?
But
they couldn't
be _her_ arms,
because she couldn't feel herself feel them.
So whose?
Then she remembered.
Ranma!
Ranma was with her!
They must be Ranma's arms.
Ranma was with her!
She wasn't alone!
She clasped her hands over the arms
where they crossed,
and held them.
They were
Ranma's arms,
she was
with Ranma,
falling down,
into the dark.
They fell,
and civilizations
fell with them,
and were reborn
from dust,
and grew again,
and flourished,
and faded,
and fell once more.
And worlds
passed by,
and gave birth to life
and grew old
and died.
And suns
grew old,
and died,
and new suns
were born;
and Galaxies
were born,
grew up,
grew old,
crashed together,
and died,
and were reborn
in fire.
And Universes ended
and new universes began,
and time went by,
and the Wheel turned round,
and she was with Ranma,
and Ranma was with her,
and it
was
dark,
and they
fell
down
.
------------------------------------------------------------
Hold on!
You must hold on.
If your grip fails, you end, and she ends, and you fail. If
_her_ grip fails, the same. Will her strength, will her to
hold. No way of telling, no way of knowing. Until it's too
late to help.
And it is dark and silent and there is no way to tell if your
grip will hold and no way to tell if _she_ even _is_ holding
and if either fails both fail but this is a fight and you
cannot lose a fight and you are Invincible but there is a cost
there is always a cost and the cost may be more than you can
pay and it is not enough to hold out you must also survive to
guide _her_ out and if you spend all your power now and leave
none but you must win you must spend the power to win you must
and if you have not the power then you must find more and will
_her_ power she must have power and it must be enough ... and
you must hold.
And love must find a way.
And if it does, or if it does not ... hold on.
------------------------------------------------------------
There is a place that is not a place.
In that place there is an Ocean, that is not an Ocean.
And the water of that Ocean (that is not water) rolls forever
flat and still, beneath a starless, moonless, sunless sky.
(Though some say it is a desert, and that the sand is black,
and harsh, and does not gleam. (Though there is no light in
that place _to_ gleam.))
When you go there (and you will) you will find nothing, except
that which you bring.
No guides bring boats there, no one will ferry you across. You
must go yourself, using only what you have, and it will take
you however long it takes. And it will cost you whatever it
may cost.
And all these things, of course, are metaphor, for a somewhat
more complex reality.
Into that place, Ranma brought Akane, and Akane brought Ranma.
Into a place where there is nothing, except that which is
brought, they brought each other, falling from an infinite
velvet sky.
And the night-black water (that is not water) of that ocean
(that is not an ocean) swallowed them. Without a splash.
Without a ripple. Without a sound. And in that place of
silence, silence reigned.
Briefly.
Until the sky began to fill with light. With a sprinkling of
burning dust. And with a widening scatter of illuminated
diamonds. And with luminescent shards of emerald, and
amethyst, and ruby, and topaz, and pearl.
As though someone had taken the combined gem collections of
the world's museums, and smashed them with a sledge-hammer,
and set the shards afire, and scattered them across the
endless velvet sky.
For in that place you will find nothing, except that which you
bring with you. And Bushiko Ranma, whose name had once been
otherwise and would be otherwise again, surfaced from the
nighted depths of that ocean that is not an ocean, and brought
Akane up with her.
And lay on her back in the velvet water that is not water, and
held her beloved to her breast while she coughed and
sputtered.
And smiled upwards, tiredly, into the sky.
And the sky was _alight_ with stars.
------------------------------------------------------------
*Cough*, *hkk*, *cough*. A small voice, "Ranchan?"
"Yeah?"
"Are we dead?"
"Kind of. It depends."
A small time went by. Finally, Ranma shook herself slightly
and turned over in the water, still holding Akane above the
surface. "I _wondered_ why you didn't get in the pool the
other day."
"I've never been able to swim," Akane confessed ashamedly.
"Well, fortunately, you won't have to." Ranma stretched out
and began swimming, for a few strokes.
"Huh?"
Ranma's hand touched wood. "Look up for a minute, dummy."
Akane heaved herself upright in the water, turned to bring her
good eye into arc, and gaped in shock at the white wood of the
hull of the sailboat bobbing gently in the water before her.
Ranma suddenly boosted her toward the gunwale and she grabbed
it and scrambled over,
'Don't look at her for a minute, dummy, you don't need the
distraction of seeing her all wet in that silk shirt. And this
might not be a good place to confess to being in love with
her. And _don't_ think about where she just put her hand!'
into the bow of the twenty foot long lateen-rig. "Ranchan!
Where'd _this_ thing come from?"
Ranma reached up and grabbed, then heaved herself over the
side, 'Don't look at her, dummy, you don't need the
distraction of seeing her all wet in that silk shirt. And you
need to get moving if you're going to get her back in time.
And _don't_ think about where you just put your hand!' into
the stern.
"Huh. Funny, it's gotten a little bigger."
Ranma kept her head down and rummaged around the mast.
"Ahh."
She released a rope and brought the main spar into line,
quickly raising and setting the sail.
"Hey Acchan. Thanks."
"Huh? For what, Ranchan?"
"For coming after me. For coming _back_ after me. ... I guess
you were right. I _did_ need you."
Akane blushed, and stared intently at the deck. "Ahh, any time
Ranchan. Any time."
Akane suddenly felt a breeze begin to blow, raising a slight
swell, and causing the little ship to gather way.
"Now, Miss Tendo, if you will be so good as to summon and
maintain a light, so we can see where we are going, I will try
to get us to shore, where we can see about not having to
_stay_ dead."
Akane blinkied for a few moments, then scrambled to her feet.
"Sure, Ranchan!" She held out her hands, concentrated, and
summoned Fire; creating a fiercely burning beacon that sent
out a cone of light to pierce the gloom before them.
Before the wind, the little ship sped across the darkened
ocean, bow- wave peeling back to either side and wake
spreading out behind them, far off into the eternal night.
They flew towards an unseen destination for an unmeasurable
time, and Akane held the beacon steady before them, feeling an
unexplainable exaltation, as though some factor in the sea or
the boat or the wind was calling to her in wild delight.
All things must end, however, and finally Akane saw a dark
line at the limits of her beacon's reach. A line that rapidly
drew nearer, revealing itself as a dark, sandy beach
stretching across the ocean as far as she could see.
Exultantly she shouted, "Ranchan, Ranchan, Land!"
Heedful of her words, Ranma dismissed the wind and quickly
lowered the sail. Running up the slope of one final swell, the
graceful ship remained poised at apex for a brief moment
before slipping over, and sliding down the long, shallow slope
to run itself into the beach with a long, slithering hiss.
Jumping down from the little ship's bow, Akane got out of the
way of its rush, and stood waiting as Ranma walked to the bow,
likewise jumped down, and tugged her jacket straight.
Adjusting her scarf to her satisfaction, Ranma caught Akane's
eye and winked. Then she started up the beach, walking
strongly and swiftly. Akane followed, wordlessly.
About a hundred yards up the beach, the sand gave way to rocks
of varying sizes. Akane also noted the beginnings of a gradual
slope, and began to dimly perceive a darker wall looming
ahead. Ranma set out over the rockpiles toward this distant
object, warning Akane in a low voice to be careful of her
footing. Akane was well aware of the problem, gingerly
stepping over and around stones and shifting piles of gravel,
keeping her good eye sweeping back and forth, searching out
the best path.
Traveling on a few dozen yards, Akane looked up to discover
that they had come to the base of a towering ridge, looming up
into the darkness, barely outlined by the light from the
gleaming stars. Ranma, she noticed, was not going up the
slope, but rather searching along its base. Akane followed her
along, gingerly testing her way across the treacherous scree.
At last, Ranma gave a muffled exclamation of triumph. "Ha!
Found it! I _swear_ the bloody thing moves! Come on, Acchan.
Come over here."
Akane picked her way up a small sub-slope and around a large
boulder, to discover a stone nook set about ten feet into the
wall of a sheer cliff. It was enclosed on four sides out of
five, and was open to the sky over less than a third its roof.
The boulders and rock-faces that surrounded it were coated
with mossy accumulations that must have been centuries old,
and she noted a great tap-root crawling over the top of one
wall and over a square lip of ancient, worked stone, down into
the pool of water that filled most of the interior of the
hollow.
Ranma knelt on a convenient rock at the edge of the pool and
dipped cupped hands into it, bringing up palmfuls of water and
drinking them down several times. Ranma then bent over and
dipped her head into the water, ducking under to her neck and
shaking her head back and forth.
At Ranma's indicative motion, Akane also knelt and drank. The
water was cool and pure, quenching her thirst on first contact
and then returning it again so that the second drink was even
more welcome than the first, and the third more welcome than
the second. After five drinks, she stopped being thirsty,
sitting back with a long sigh and feeling the internal fires
soothed and quenched by the healing water, only to reignite
again, stronger, purer, and higher than before.
Motioning Akane to tilt her head back, Ranma dipped another
palmful of water and poured it onto Akane's face, pulling out
a handkerchief to wipe away the blood and serum. The water was
cool and refreshing on her face, and Akane felt the pain begin
to ease. More importantly, she quickly lost the immediate
awareness of injury, and for the first time since her maiming
she could truly concentrate on her surroundings.
Seeing the relief in her face, Ranma grinned at her. "Good
stuff, huh?"
"Uh-huh. That's _much_ better, yeah. Thanks, Ranchan. Umm,
Ranchan?"
"Yeah?"
"Now what?"
"Now we go up the cliff. About a hundred yards of climbing,
and then we should hit a ravine and be able to walk."
"How much time do we have?"
"It's not so much time as intent, Acchan. As long as we don't
slow down, get side-tracked or turn back, we'll be fine."
"Well, let's get going then." As they rose to their feet,
Akane had a thought. Lagging behind for a moment, she drew the
sword she had found and dipped it in the pool, drawing it out
and wiping it off with a cloth before returning it to its
sheath. At Ranma's questioning look she shrugged, "Can't hurt
...."
** She was climbing **
search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip
** up a wall. **
move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach
** It was dark **
grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find
** and quiet, **
reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan
** and she **
find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search
** must spend more time, **
scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move
** too much time, **
search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip
** to find a way **
move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach
** that she could go. **
grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find
** Her arms hurt, **
reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan
** and she must move them, **
find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search
** her legs trembled, **
scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move
** but they must stay firm. **
search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip
** It was hard, **
move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach
** and she was tired, **
grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find
** and afraid. **
reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan
** But there was moss **
find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search
** for her to feel, **
scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move
** jeweled starlight above **
search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip
** to light her way, **
move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach
** and the dark **
grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan find
** was far behind her, **
reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search scan
** like broken prison bars; **
find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move search
** and she was with Ranma, **
scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip move
** and Ranma was with her, **
search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach grip
** and they climbed up **
move search scan find reach grip move search scan find reach
** to find the stars. **
The climb was fairly brutal for Akane, her missing eye no
longer hurting, but still hampering her field of view and
depth perception. Finding hand-holds was harder; routes must
be scrutinized more closely. Plus, a climb up a sheer rock
face coated with moss in deep darkness is almost guaranteed to
be an event long worth remembering. But, in the end, they
reached the deeply cut, steep ravine, and began to climb the
long slope.
Now the going was somewhat easier, but also, paradoxically,
harder. Akane needed to expend less physical and mental effort
to move and to find her way. But this left her more time for
brooding.
Brooding was not, typically, the sort of thing that Akane did.
She had always been one to resolve a situation in as little
time as possible. Typically abruptly, in a manner that
involved violence. This extended feeling of malaise was not
something that she was well prepared to deal with.
It was basicly, she decided, All Her Fault. If she hadn't come
tagging along behind Ranma and jogging her arm, she would
certainly have handled it better. She was just ... no good,
really. It was harsh, but there it was. She loved Ranma
dearly, but she knew that she did not deserve her. She never
would deserve her. She'd just keep getting in to trouble and
Ranma would come get her out and one day .... All Her Fault.
She should just ... she should ....
Walking in her own cloud of gloom, Ranma was drearly certain
that she had forfeited any friendship Akane might ever offer
her. She'd gotten her _eye_ cut out, for Kami-sama's sake! It
was just impossible, she had no right ....
Akane sighed mournfully, and Ranma immediately jerked her
attention back to the 'real' world. Akane was definitely
drooping, she noted. That would not do. Travel here in the
celestial borderlands was as much a matter of will as of
physical effort; despair could be fatal, in a literal sense.
She would have to cheer the other girl up, immediately. But
what could she do that wouldn't seem fake? Then she realized
that she was being silly. Cases like this were what music was
_made_ for, after all. Adjusting her stride to tap out the
beat, Ranma raised her voice in song.
When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes,
I will dry them all.
I'll take your part,
Oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down
It came as a complete shock to Akane, and broke her out of her
funk immediately. Nonetheless, surprise held her voiceless for
the first verse, a warm glow of love rising from her diaphragm
to fill her whole body. On the second verse, she joined in.
When you're down and out,
when you're on the street
When evening falls so hard,
I will comfort you
I'm on your side,
Oh, when darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down
Oddly, Ranma found, she was feeling better too. And, to her,
it wasn't just a song. It was a promise. Though she did not
know it, Akane was thinking almost the exact same thing. The
final verse rolled out sweetly, pushing back the night.
Sail on, Silver girl, sail on by
Your time has come to shine,
all your dreams are on their way
See how they shine,
Oh, when you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
And like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind.
Ranma laughed delightedly. "Sorry, Acchan, I was letting the
gloom get to me too, I think. The problem with this walk is
keeping yourself from getting depressed."
"Yeah, Ranchan, I was feeling down, too. I think it's the
scenery, it's too dark. Is there a song we could concentrate
on for a while?"
"Mmmm. Sounds like a job for a marching song, really. Do you
know 'The Whistling Pig'?"
"No, never heard of it. How does it go?"
"Like this:"
Well, we're having a war,
and we'd like for you to come,
so the Pig began to whistle,
and to pound upon the drum,
We'll give you a gun,
and we'll furnish you a hat!
And the Pig began to whistle,
when they told the Piggies that.
Akane began to whistle too, stepping off in time to the beat,
matching Ranma's pace. Ranma continued the song, recounting
the many adventures and misadventures of the Whistling Pig,
and Akane came in on the choruses, soon finding and holding
the melody line.
As she sang, she began to hear flashes of song, prefiguring
things Ranma put in the verses later, and eventually she began
taking the occasional verse herself, efforts that Ranma
praised as very authentic.
The Pig put on his webbing,
and he shined his bayonet.
Some people started shooting,
so he shot them, with regret,
He couldn't run an office
and he couldn't be a clerk,
cause a Pig that likes to whistle
likes to whistle while he works.
Oh, we're having a war, ....
As she continued on, walking to the beat with a rhythmic
tramp, it almost seemed to Akane as though she and Ranma were
not alone. It almost seemed as though they walked in the
center of a great host of people, soldiers, who marched or
trudged or tramped along, variously equipped and conditioned,
but undefeated and able, and they, too, were singing.
Wars are sometimes over,
and they garnisheed his pay.
They took his hat and webbing,
and they took his gun away.
They told him they were thankful,
and they split him north to south,
and they fried him with a whistle
and an apple in his mouth.
Oh, we're having a war, ....
The ghostly host began to fade from Akane's sight, until only
a last, dedicated band remained. Before her, she saw a wide
river, crossed by no bridge. To the side across the river, she
spied the obsidian walls of the city of stone.
The ghosts began to stamp their feet at the end of each line,
making a hollow *boom* like the sounding of a great drum, far
away. Akane fell silent and the soldiers followed suit, and
Ranma raised her voice again, in what Akane recognized somehow
must be the verse that closed the song.
One day there won't be fighting (*boom*)
and we'll put our guns away. (*boom*)
Men will love each other, (*boom*)
and we'll all join hands to pray. (*boom*)
Peace will come forever, (*boom*)
people won't get shot and die, (*boom*)
and on that day, the Pigs will
spread their wings, _and learn to fly!_
Oh, we're having a war,
and we'd like for you to come,
so the Pig began to whistle,
and to pound upon the drum,
We'll give you a gun,
and we'll furnish you a hat!
And the Pig began to whistle,
when they told the Piggies that.
They came to the bank of the river, and Akane saw that the
river was filled with dust. Ranma gave the ghostly soldiers a
casual salute, which they returned before fading away. Ranma
then waded out into the river to her knees, and turned back to
Akane and held out her hand.
Akane waded into he river likewise, and took it. Ranma set out
across, holding her hand tightly, and was quickly up to her
neck. Akane held her breath as her head slipped under the
surface of the flowing dust, but it did not seem to get into
her nose or mouth, or hinder her breathing.
She _did_ notice that there were occasional thin streams of
water mixed in with the dust, and an accidental encounter with
one revealed to her that they were salty. Though it did not
choke her, the dust did stick to her skin, and the streams of
tears only turned some of it to mud where it clung. Emerging
from the river on the other side both Ranma and Akane were
covered by a caking of dust and mud so that they were entirely
white.
Turning up the worn stone street towards the wall, Akane
noticed that the dust was falling off with each step, and that
the mud was drying up and flaking away. By the time they were
sixty yards from the river the only traces it had left were a
few grey smudges on their faces. Akane felt very tired, and
was engaged in wishing it were over when the bells began to
sound.
Just as before, the low rumble of stone was picked up and
echoed before breaking free in heartrending glory. Just as
before the stone song was enhanced by the music of countless
bells. Just as before she was overcome by the beauty of the
music, and she began to turn back to hear it more closely when
Ranma grabbed her hand, pulling her along.
They were almost at the wall when a new factor was added.
Above the glory of the bells, high and clear and impossibly
sweet, rose a voice. Somehow, Akane recognized it as the voice
of the young girl with the blue T-shirt she had met in Death's
house, and it sang to her and Ranma now in verses she heard
once before.
Ranma had sung them at the funeral, power and beauty both, and
she was glad for Ranma's hand, else she should have certainly
run back to the city to comfort its mournful longing.
A sto'r mo chroi', when you're far away
From the home that you'll soon be leaving,
'Tis many the time, by night and by day,
That your heart will sorely be grieving.
For the stranger's land it is bright and fair,
And rich in treasures golden,
But you'll pine I know for the long, long ago,
And the love that never is olden.
They reached the wall. As before, it was low and weathered. It
could be no trouble to get across, even for a cripple. And
yet, somehow, Akane was reluctant.
Somehow, she knew, the wall was as much a guardian as a
barrier. Somehow, it would extract a toll. Mutely, she turned
back to Ranma in an appeal for another way, but Ranma's eyes,
gentle but stern, offered no compromise. As the song closed a
verse, Akane took a deep breath, and stepped across. To
Ranma's sight, she rippled, and was gone.
A sto'r mo chroi', in the stranger's land,
There is plenty of wealth for the willing.
Where jewels adorn the great and the grand,
While our faces with hunger are paling.
Yet the road may be toilsome, and hard to tread,
And the lights of their cities may blind you.
Then turn a sto'r, to the eastern shore,
And the ones that you're leaving behind you.
Quietly Ranma stood, looking at the wall herself for a moment
of silent appraisal, before turning to look back down into the
city. Her features softened, but then hardened again, and she
raised her right hand and held it high for a moment.
As the song began its final verse, her hand gave off a flash
of white light, momentarily throwing the wall and the ground
before it into high relief. As the flash faded, Ranma turned
around, and stepped across.
A sto'r mo chroi', when the evening mists,
O'er Mountain and Sea are falling,
Then turn aside from the throng and list'
And maybe you'll hear me calling.
For the sound of a voice that I sorely miss,
For somebody's quick returning,
Ohh! A ru'n, a ru'n, won't you come back soon,
To the love that always is burning?
As Ranma crossed the wall, she too vanished. From the city of
stone, the song grew mournful, and as it finished the chorus
of bells also ended, and then the silence, and the tears,
returned.
------------------------------------------------------------
Nabiki was no longer weeping. Tears would serve no further
purpose, and she still had a duty to perform. Ranma had asked
of her a service, and she had agreed. She did not see that the
service held any further value, but she would perform it
faithfully nonetheless. Precise fulfillment of contractual
terms reflected on her honor, and Nabiki was a stickler for
things like that.
Mourning silently, she knelt in formal seiza, watching over
the dead bodies of her sister and her friend. She would watch
for 48 hours, and nothing would disturb them for that time.
Let the doctors know what price had been paid, and who had
paid it.
48 hours, and then she must take charge of the arrangements.
They must have another funeral. She quailed internally at the
very thought, but it fell to her to achieve.
One thing, though, she would at least be spared. She would
watch over the bodies and therefore, therefore _someone else_
would make the phone call. Someone else would have to tell
Kasumi and Daddy. It was a form of cowardice, she knew, but
with all of her soul she was thankful. That task, above all
others, was one she could not face.
'Oh, Akane!' she mourned,'Why did you go and do something that
stupid?'
Though it was a rhetorical question, she knew. Akane had
followed her friend. No! Say it, Nabiki! Akane had been in
love with Ranma, and Ranma had been in love with Akane. Akane
had followed her lover, and had died with her. At least they
had died in battle, if she was any judge, and she also judged
that they had died together. Whatever else, she _knew_ they
were together now.
She supposed that she ought to be angry at Akane for falling
in love with someone like Ranma, but she could not be. Her
sister had never shown a trace of lesbianism before; she
_would_ have noticed. And she had been so ... so _grey_
before, and _she_ had not been able to help, and then Ranma
came, and Akane was so happy after.
She could not begrudge that happiness; and if it had cost her
sister her life, well, no-one had forced her to go beside
Ranma. Perhaps she had felt the risk of dying beside her
beloved was less than that of living without her. In a
detached way, Nabiki could understand that.
Tracing the lines of their faces with her eyes, and following
the new scars, Nabiki made a silent pledge. Ranma and Akane
had not died through mischance. Someone had taken her sister
and her friend from her. She did not know who, but she would.
And then Someone was going to pay. Pay dearly, and pay
interest.
Tendo Nabiki became emotional over few things, but _no-one_
injured her family and walked away undamaged. It was a matter
of honor, it was a matter of pride, and it was especially a
matter of being very, _very_ angry.
Dr. Tofu straightened from his ministrations and sighed in
relief.
Already she was recovering. Recovering at a very great rate,
too. She would, he felt, be recovered sufficiently to leave
the hospital in a day or three. Turning to her father, he
relayed this news, softening the man's profuse thanks
embarrassedly.
It was not his victory, but two others', and he turned to
check on them. Even from across the room, he knew, and his
heart froze within him. Still, he moved over to be certain.
Nabiki felt the presence of Dr. Tofu behind her.
"48 hours."
There was little humanity in her voice, only a vast and
implacable purpose.
He began to say something, but then reconsidered. "48 hours,"
he agreed. "Would you like me to call your house?"
Nabiki turned a grateful face toward him, and smiled weakly.
"Thank you, Tofu-sensei. I ...."
In a city made of stone, a chorus of bells fell silent, though
neither Nabiki or Tofu could hear them. In her circle, Akane
gasped in air and arched her back, falling to her side and
writhing out of the circle, keening in agony. They whirled
back around and gaped at the sight of Ranma, head back and
body locked, mouth gaping open in a long, silent scream.
Akane inadvertently recalled their attention with a strangled
whimper. Nabiki lunged to her sister's side, but Ranma got
there first anyway. Cradling Akane's head in her arms, Ranma
held her upright. Akane gasped, "Hurts, Ranchan."
"Shh, Acchan, I know. It'll get better soon."
Nabiki took a towelette from Dr. Tofu and used it to clean off
the wounds on Akane's cheek, dreading what she knew she must
see when Akane opened her eyes.
Akane, feeling the gentle motion, gathered her energy and
looked to see who was cleaning her, blurrily she saw ...
"N-neechan? That you? Ranchan?" Seeing Nabiki's stunned stare,
she continued, "Neechan? Is it ... my eye? I know it must look
awful ...."
"Oh, I don't know," Ranma smiled slowly, "_I_ think it makes
you look ... rakish, really." Akane frowned at her, vaguely,
and Ranma pulled out a mirror and held it before her face.
Akane frowned at it; it wouldn't come into focus. It was all
blurry, but it was odd. It seemed as though it was blurry in
_both_ eyes, which made no sense at all.
Then it did focus, and she gasped. There was her right eye,
large and dark brown like it had always been. But where there
should have been a mate to its left, or else a bloody ruin,
was instead a deep black well, shot through with swirling
flecks of red and gold. Akane tried to deal with the concept,
but quickly gave up the idea as much too complicated. She was
more tired and bore more minor injuries than she had ever had
in her life, and all she wanted to do was go home.
Ranma wobbled unsteadily to her feet and pulled Akane up after
her. After checking with Dr. Tofu that Sayuri was all right,
she got Akane moving and headed out the door to the Dojo,
leaving Nabiki to deal with anything that came up.
Nabiki, unwilling to be put off lunged after them and held
them up, saying, "Hold on, you two. You don't leave until you
tell me what the _hell_ just happened!"
Ranma and Akane looked at each other for a moment, then turned
back to Nabiki. "Nothing special, Oneechan." "No big deal,
really." In unison, "Just routine." Chucking tiredly, they
staggered out, brushing past Dr. Tofu, who made a move to stop
them, but then shrugged, and let them go.
Nabiki looked after the departing duo exasperatedly. Then she
slowly smiled. Internally, she cancelled her pledge of
vengeance and made a note to buy a great deal of incense and
prayer candles. She didn't know just which god she now owed a
debt to, but she should probably do some scatter-shot
sacrificing anyway; it was a small price to pay for a miracle.
Mentally, she made a list.
First, she had to see about a few temples.
Then she was going to go home and check that Akane was really
all right.
Then she was going to tear a long, bleeding strip off her for
scaring her like that.
Whistling in relief, she headed out the door herself.
------------------------------------------------------------
Somehow, she had kept awake long enough to get home.
Staggering in the door of her room, she took off her jacket
and hung it up. Then her legs failed her, and she just managed
to sit down on the bed. Ranchan wanted her to do something,
and she nodded vaguely, and she was _so_ tired, she'd do it in
a minute, she'd get right up and ... and she'd ... she'd get
up from where she was laying down and she'd ....
A small snore came from Akane where she lay on her side on her
bed, fast asleep. Ranma frowned and came over to the bed,
shaking her shoulder lightly. This accomplished nothing, and
Ranma sat down heavily to try to think what to do. Absently,
she stroked Akane's hair gently. She would leave Acchan to her
sleep, she decided, and go back to her apartment. She'd get
right up and do it now. Yup. She'd get ... right ... up ...
and ....
------------------------------------------------------------
Nabiki arrived home with a mission. She was going to kill her
little sister on grounds of familial imperilment (viz: risking
her, Nabiki's neck when she would have had to explain things
to Dad).
Skipping up the steps she listened at Akane's door, but heard
nothing. Quietly, she opened the door to confirm that Akane
was not present, and gaped at the sight within.
On the bed lay Akane and Ranma, arms and legs intertwined,
Akane's face pressed into Ranma's shoulder, raven hair
entwining with sunset scarlet, deeply asleep.
Nabiki smiled wistfully, and quietly closed the door.
------------------------------------------------------------
Next:
Chapter 6: Immediate Consequences
Part A: The Night Before The Morning After
Authors Notes:
Tear-jerking bastich, ain't I?
Heh.
No, it gets to me, too, and I _wrote_ the thing.
You may notice that I spend a lot more time on describing
Akane's fight and what maneuvers she is using, while letting
Ranma by with visual descriptions and a higher level of
vagueness. This is entirely intentional.
You may also notice that I tend to choose Ranma's actions by
their visual appeal, silly as that may seem in a text based
fanfiction. Again, this is intentional.
A lot of the whole fic is visually based, because I seem to
have the habit of formatting and developing the scenes that
way. Also, Ranma is serving as a plot-device and story-
forwarder at this point, so I felt that visual imagery was
more appropriate.
Yes, Ranma does have a death wish. It's not a terribly strong
one, mind. And he himself would deny it vehemenently, but it
_is_ there. Again, this is a side-effect of Ranma no longer
being truly heroic, and will probably fix itself as he regains
his proper form.
Or, again, I could just be playing with your minds. You never
know.
But, whatever Ranma may _think_, he has been strongly marked
by the Samurai / Ronin death fetish (if that's what I want to
call it). The sense that a 'heroic' death for duty or honor's
sake is desirable or romantic. As I say, if you asked him,
she'd deny it, but ....
Moving on, I consider the Hiryuu Shoten Ha to be the most
visually distinctive and impressive of Ranma's attacks, which
is why I use it here.
I've wanted to use "krakata-thoooooo......oooom" as a sound
effect for a long time now, and I refuse to apologize for it.
Yes that _is_ the First of the Fallen as in Satan, Old
Scratch, Lucifer, the Adversary, etc. Yes, he's extremely bad-
ass.
For more on Invincibles, see the RAALS Essays on the web site.
For that matter, world and meta-world information in general
is there, and there's a lot to reference in this chapter.
The fall into the dark was pure stylistic showoff on my part,
but I'm not apologizing for _it_, either.
The Starless Sea is an escape route because it's the one place
in all creation where Lies are Not Allowed, and where the
First _cannot_ therefore suddenly turn up. Or _any_ demon, for
that matter. On the other hand, it's usually very much a one-
way trip. Nor can most people climb the Cliff of Black Stone,
even if they could _find_ it, which they couldn't.
The pool of water at the base of the cliff is a very Important
Well. The root that feeds into it is a very Important Root.
And a nasty computer pun. I'm not saying any more right now.
Ranma and Akane would not normally be able to throw their
weight around to that extent; but due to their twin-world
existence during the fight, they are in much the same position
as a demon would be confronting humans on earth. That is,
they're cheating extensively.
This also explains the rapid healing of their wounds during
the fight, and also at least partly what happened to Akane's
eye. _That_ wound is also very symbolic, if you hadn't already
guessed that.
The sword will be dealt with in the next chapter.
The Iron-Men pseudo-history is complete garbage, in case that
wasn't obvious, but I think it's evocative garbage. It's also
_All Mine_, but I'm willing to share ...
Just for the record, major world influences to this point
include:
Slayers
Godzilla
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (manga version)
Gunsmith Cats
Usagi Yojimbo
Neil Gaiman
Terry Pratchett
Ah! Megamisama
Iczer One
El Hazzard
Tenchi Muyo
Hellblazer!
In Nomine
Ninja High School
Gold Digger
Gunmm (aka Battle Angel Alita)
and my own deranged imagination.
Oh, and Ranma, too.
Next: Tomorrow: Six part A
Friday: Six part B
Saturday: Six part C, if fortune holds.
Yours very respectfully,
Eric Hallstrom, CC, PhD, UBIP,etc.
--
www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/index.html
www.kawaiikunee.com
hallcon@mindspring.com
kawaii@kawaiikunee.com