Hi!
Added about 10k to the front and back of the first chapter.
Also, for some (badly drawn) fan art, see http://www.geocities.com/curator_ami/fanart.html
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No Need for a Dragon/Slayer Half
(Ryu/Satsujinha'nin Nibunoichi Muyo)
By Alex Timiney, 12/08/2002 to 16/08/2002
curator@discordia.connectfree.co.uk
Version 1.1.2 (25/08/2002)
(wordwrapped MS-DOS text version)
A Ranma 1/2 (Manga) / Dragon Half (sort of) / Tenchi Muyo (OAV) /
Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover
Insert standard disclaimer here (including the altaverse bit)
Additional Disclaimer -
Warning: May contain spoilers for Real Life.
Caution: Do not expose to direct sunlight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
No Need for a Dragon/Slayer Half
Act One, Part One;
"Ranma's other secrets"
"Stay away from the future,
Don't tell god your plans,
It's all deranged,
No control,
You've gotta have a scheme,
You've gotta have a plan,
In the world of today,
For tomorrows man,
I shall live my life, on bended knee,
If I can't control, my destiny
No control,
I can't believe I've no control,
It's all deranged..."
Some time in the autumnal season of the year 1999 two Japanese
men, a father and son (who was actually barely more than a boy), were
coming to the end of an epic training journey. Currently they were
visiting some of the more mysterious and esoteric training grounds to
be found in the sparsely populated Chinese province of Qinghai.
Unfortunately for them, the previous training ground they visited was
particularly mysterious and esoteric, and it help a rather unpleasant
secret, a secret well know to the local guide, who told all that
visited, but few believed. And unfortunately for these two wonderers,
they were amongst those few non-believers only for the few minutes
before falling pray to the ground's secret.
Though both were quickly hurried on to other places by their
guide, the boy was not happy with the way of things. The cursed
springs of Jusenkyo had turned him into a girl, a weak, stupid,
subservient girl, as his father would have him believe, and had so
been taught throughout his life. But as much as the boy had been
taught to look down on the 'fairer' sex, he had also been brought up
to be a strong, powerful, skilled fighter. Now, seeing himself as
having his life's efforts destroyed by his transformation (though
this was far from the case), his, or rather, her keen mind thought of
a way to cure herself of her unwanted womanhood.
So, after waiting for the guide to leave them once his duty was
done, and for a suitable opportunity to arise, the cursed girl made
tracks for what she hope would be her saviour...
*
"Ok, you, there's gotta be spring of drowned boy around here,
right?" Onna-Ranma demanded of Jusenkyo guide, holding the short
portly man up in the air by the collar of his green Mao suit, which
looked quite odd due to Ranma's smaller size. "Where is it?" she
continued with a stony voice when the guide fearfully nodded an
affirmation.
"Nanniichuan is there, sir." The guide wheezed out and pointed
at a spring in the middle distance. Before he could say 'Lavatory is
a ridiculous name, even for the Joketsuzoku tribe' he was sitting on
his rear end, watching the boy turned girl dash-leap into the
indicated pool. "AHH! NO SIR! Jusenkyo curse not work like that! And
that is wrong..."
SPLASH! You know how it is when people point at something
amongst a number of similar items a little ways away, don't you? What
you think is being pointed at is quite often not the target. Ranma,
in his foolish rush, had just made this same mistake.
"...spring. That is spring of drowned, how you say? Ah, Baby
Red Dragon." The guide sweat-dropped and hoped for the best. The
spring of drowned baby red dragon was a temperamental spring at best,
and he was unsure about how it would combine with the nyaniichuan -
the spring that Mr Customer's son had fallen in earlier. It didn't
help his nerves that the water seemed to boil for a short moment
after the boy/girl had become completely immersed in the magical
water.
The doubly cursed Ranma bobbed up to the water's surface in a
foetal position, almost as if the youth element of the spring had
caused him to revert to the mindset of an unborn (or is that
unhatched?) child. Quickly though, the reborn Ranma straightened out
and stood in the deep pool.
Opening her eyes, she took stock of her new cursed form. The
first thing she noticed was that her already tattered gi seemed to be
burned on the inside. Her hair, now a bright burning red, had fallen
out from the seared ribbon that had been holding it back in a
ponytail at the base of her skull. Everything looked different, too -
colours seemed vague and indistinct, but she could see shapes clearer
and further than before. Dimly she heard the voice of the guide
rattle off his rhetoric through the haze of her shock.
"Very tragic tale of baby red dragon who drown there two
thousand three hundred year ago, very tragic tale," Ranma just shook
her head and tried to catalogue any physical changes. Her chest
seemed... well, it seemed bulkier, not her breasts, but her chest, as
if there were extra muscles spread across them.
"But you already fall in spring of drowned girl, so..."
Awareness of her new body spread across her as Ranma's mind processed
the updated nerve mappings. A slight weight above and behind her ears
that had not been present before accompanied the tingling of a new
body part. A hand snaked up to touch and probe the horns, even as
other changes became apparent.
"So curses combine... sometime in strange ways, but in your
case they combine in logical way." The guide continued as Ranma
discovered what those extra muscles were connected to, and also what
had happened to the base of his spine. She began to shake with fear -
fear of herself, fear of what was happening to her. What on earth was
she!? Only a week ago she had been an ordinary boy, of sorts, trained
to exceptional levels at the cost of a phobia and bad manners. But
now... now not only had she lost her manhood, had she lost her
humanity as well? What had /he/ become?
"Sir, you now become Dragon Half... I am guide here many many
years and have read many entries in Jusenkyo guest book from before I
guide here, but you first to become half dragon without falling in
spring of drowned Dragon Half." The guide finished, a mix of emotions
crossing his face, the most predominant being awe and astonishment.
"Though not quite this strangest spring here..." he added quietly,
mostly to himself as he recalled the day that poor child was bathed
in the Niu Ho Man Maolen Niichuan.
Ryu-Ranma carefully stepped out of the spring, bobbing up and
down along her strides as if gravity had been cut in half. She felt
as light as a feather, and she wondered if the draconic influence had
made her much lighter or had dramatically improved her strength, or
more likely a little of both. But of greater import and interest was
the additional pair of limbs now protruding from her mid back.
Carefully she peered over her shoulder and saw the wrist and fingers
of a gleaming red wing half folded against a large tear in her gi
top. Twisting a little she could make out more of the membranous wing
and also a long red tail, as long as her legs, dropping out from
under the hem of her top, along with a large torn fold of fabric from
her leggings. Near the tip of the tail a pair of spines stuck out
sideways with membrane stretched between them and the tail proper,
making a neat tail 'fin'. At the moment the spines were relaxed, and
the fin was folded away.
"Crap... that's gonna take ages to sew up." She muttered with a
sigh. The guide had the decency to face fault (though years of
training for such an eventuality allowed him to avoid falling into a
spring).
Experimentally, Ryu-Ranma tried out her new muscles. Her wings
snapped out, startling the recovering guide and spraying droplets of
water about the place. Her tail straightened out a little and the fin
opened up, revealing its shape to be like that of the ace of clubs.
She looked left and right, examining the details of her draconic body
parts. The wings were about five or six feet in span (it was a little
difficult to tell from her perspective, and it felt like she was
trying to guess how tall she was by staring at the ground) They were
constructed in the same fashion as a bat's, but with the membrane
narrowing to meet with her the small of her back, rather than
extending out to her legs, as it would with a bat. Five needle-like
fingers sprouted from each wing's 'wrist', hinging slightly at a
third and two thirds along each, and were tipped with short flexible
tendrils, once free from the membrane stretched across them. A thumb-
claw pointed out through the leading edge from the hand and also
helped the leading edge membrane keep its aerofoil shape. Also,
unlike a bat, the muscled parts of the wings were covered with snake
like scales - soft and warm to the touch, but tougher and slightly
less flexible than skin. The tail was a similar story, with the tail
and spines covered in small, soft, shiny scales and the fin membrane
being made out of leather like skin. She also noticed that her human
skin now had a light metallic red sheen where it caught the light
from the misty skies. In some places, like her for arms, there was
the barest trace of scaly patterns imprinted into her skin, too, like
a subtle tattoo, only noticeable upon close inspection.
Tentatively, she gave her wings a light flap... and with one
effortless stroke blew herself off her feet and back into the spring.
Ranma flailed about ungracefully for a few moments (as one does
when one finds one's self unexpectedly in a pool of water) until she
realised the she was swinging her large wings about, too, and not
achieving anything but spraying water about... and making the guide
run to avoid being splashed! She relaxed and allowed herself to float
on her back in the chilly spring.
She giggled a little. Then accidentally belched out a flame,
giggling some more at this latest ability. The giggle turned into a
laugh and the laugh turned into cackle. Hidden amongst the waters of
the spring, though, the occasional tear spilled from Ryu-Ranma's
eyes. This last week had been very confusing for the boy turned girl
turned dragon half. Very confusing. And it was taking its emotional
toll. She needed some time alone to think things through, to think
about what she had gained... and what she had lost... and what she
should do.
The guide sweatdropped from where he had retreated to the edge
of the springs. He too decided that time alone was what Mr Customer's
son needed. He darted into his hut out of sight, even as the cackling
softened and degenerated into sobbing.
* * *
"It's a DEMON!!! Yahhhh!!!" Ranma may not have known much
Chinese, but the meaning of this one mandarin phrase and it's
variants, including 'Run away!' and 'Kill it!' were becoming
increasingly obvious and were etched into his mind. Once again, the
denizens of a small village were... over reacting to her presence.
Once again a barrage of wash buckets and pitchforks and whatever else
the terrified villagers could find to throw caused the dragon girl to
make a hasty retreat. It wasn't so much a physical defeat - dodging
or deflecting the incoming missiles would be child's play, especially
with her improved speed and strength - it was more of a psychological
battering which made Ryu-Ranma back-pedal away in the face of such
unyielding and unforgiving fear.
A quick beat of wings and the routed martial artist took to the
skies to consolidate her position in the woods. She touched down
clumsily with a heavy thud (flying, and the muscles required to
perform it, were still rather new and untrained) by a gently bubbling
stream in a small clearing.
Sitting down by the waters edge, her arms pulling her slender
legs to her chest and her scaly red tail wrapped around her feet, she
chucked a pebble into the running water and sulked. Every now and
then a tear would disappear forever into the tinkling flow of fresh
water.
Water... it was the cause of all this. The hunger, the fear and
hatred, the loneliness, the... the... loss of manhood and humanity...
It was all because of water! She hated the stuff! The very substance
that sustained all life on earth was her mortal enemy, and as sure as
she was a she, it was killing her by proxy, in one way or another.
Things wouldn't be so bad if she could find something to eat -
she hadn't eaten properly since defeating Shampoo. She had a terrible
craving for raw red meat, too, which she presumed was a part of her
new draconic heritage speaking to her, but the very idea repulsed her
on an intellectual level. Small animals could be grilled roughly with
her flame, but they didn't provide enough energy to cover the cost of
catching and cooking them. Larger animals were too big for her to
cook - she couldn't keep flaming for very long - but there wasn't
enough dry firewood about the places she had to hide to start a
proper fire. Not to mention that a fire would undoubtedly attract the
attention of the people now trying to hunt her down, after making so
many appearances in so many villages.
If only she could turn male again... but streams couldn't be
heated, pools at the bases of waterfalls were too big, and puddles
were too small. If only she could get her pack back, then she could
use one of her pans. But no, she had foolishly decided to leave her
pack in the care of her stupid panda father, thinking that he would
think that she had not gone far or for long if she'd left her pack
behind. So much for being smarter than she let on.
Come to think of it, where was her idiotic father? Surely she
would have run into him at some point over the last week? She'd been
just about everywhere within a fifty mile radius of Jusenkyo (just
why was she still hanging around there, anyway?), apart from the
Amazon village, and she'd not seen him once. Or her pack.
Her sorrow now transformed into anger, she gave out a little
frustrated sigh and chucked another pebble into the stream. It felt
like the world was set against her, and now there was this strange
sinking feeling in her gut. It was kind of familiar, but she couldn't
place it, so instead she put it down to the combination of depression
and hunger.
"You seem a little lost, young girl" a gravely voice intoned
behind her, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ranma jumped, and flinched at 'young girl'. She may not have
been paying much attention to the word, but this guy had kept his
presence completely concealed. She glanced over her shoulder to see
who around these parts would approach a 'demon' without simply
attacking. And who would speak such good Japanese? She got a glimpse
of the man. He was tall, about six and a bit foot, was wearing
western style monk robes and would have appeared to be a gaijin if
not for the pale blue-green flesh, upturned snout and stubby demonic
horns (quite different to her own creamy slender spirals). She looked
back across the flowing water... then double-taked. Blue-green skin?
Upturned snout? Demonic horns? She hopped to her feet, her strength
carrying her to the other side of the bubbling waters. She adopted a
loose defensive stance (which she'd modified to add in positions for
wings and tail, ready to fly away if necessary) and faced off with
the... the... demon? Or cursee?
"That just depends on who, or what you are," she spat out with
ill concealed bitterness.
"People who have known me have called me Getrith," the man
answered, still with that gravely voice, "and I am many things,
though I am most notably a moderately powerful mage. Now... I have
told you who I am, so perhaps you would return the courtesy?"
"Name's Saotome Ranma of the Saotome school of Anything Goes
martial arts." Ryu-Ranma replied in a somewhat more civil tone, "But
what I meant was... well, you 'aint human, are ya?"
"No, I'm not entirely human. Like you, I'm part demon, though
I'm not sure what ty..."
"I 'aint no demon!" Ranma barked out, tensing somewhat at the
accusation, and the other's admission to demonism.
"... not sure what type of demon you are." Getrith continued,
heedless.
"I told you, I 'aint no DEMON!" she shouted, reiterating her
denial, as if shouting it out would make the creature in front of her
understand better. Her stance grew tighter and shifted into an
offensive pose. The slightest trace of a fiery red aura sprung to
life about her hybrid body.
The mage remained calm and impassive at the outburst, though
silently he was impressed by the display. It was also informative;
demons and the undead tended not to be able manifest spiritual auras,
even when their blood was diluted with human blood. Usually a demon's
aura was magical in nature and completely unseen.
"Really? Then what are you?" he asked, letting a little humour
enter his stony voice, even though he knew now that the girl was
almost certainly telling the truth. Though there was something very
familiar about her that required investigation.
"I'm... I... uh..." she averted her gaze and looked at the
ground to one side. Her shoulders drooped (all four of them) and her
stance relaxed as memories of the nightmares in her recent life
flashed through her mind, "I fell in one too many springs at Jusenkyo
and now I'm cursed to turn into a half girl, half dragon... I used to
be a boy... but I can't get any hot water to turn back."
The demon resisted the urge to slap his forehead in
exasperation at not spotting the Jusenkyo curse earlier. After all,
it was his field of expertise, so to speak. Of course, this changed
things a little, but this boy-girl-dragon appeared to be much more
interesting than your average Jusenkyo victim. Very few were ever
cursed twice, and that little snippet of info had certainly tweaked
his curiosity.
There was still something else about her that nagged on the
edge of Getrith's mind, though. There was power here, that much was
certain. Was it his martial arts training? Very few mortal humans had
come even close to having enough power to be detected like this, and
certainly none so young. Another mystery to be investigated.
"Well, I can certainly provide hot water, and I also know a
little about Jusenkyo," he said, subtly providing the cursed boy with
bait, "It may be of use to you."
Ranma perked up at the offer of hot water, and then grinned as
his brain picked up on the rest of the statement. Putting two and two
together, she asked hopefully, "You said you're a mage, right? So if
y'know somethin' about Jusenkyo, d'you think y'know enough to maybe
cure me?" Unconsciously, she'd shuffled forwards across the stream
and tensed her wings - not quite open, but ready for flight.
"It could be done, but..."
"GREAT! What are we waiting for? Lets go!" Ryu-Ranma hopped
across the remaining distance in one bound. She grabbed the demon's
arm and pulled him off in a random direction... for all of five
seconds, "Uh... where are we going?"
Getrith freed his hand from the girl's strong grip, and stepped
out of the grooves his heels had made in the dirt. He had been
intending the let her pull him around for the few moments it would
take for her to realise she didn't know where to go, but the
sensation of her flesh against his own... Well, the electric tingling
that had spread from his arm to the rest of his body, which caused
his muscles to lock in place simply out of shock, had not been the
most pleasant of experiences.
While examining his wrist for any sings of damage from the
brief jolt, he continued his interrupted warning.
"Before we continue, you should know that removal of a Jusenkyo
curse is not an easy thing to do before the it has run it's course."
Satisfied with his inspections, he returned his calm gaze to the
eager draconian, "The results, if any, may not be quite what you are
expecting. You must be committed, too. If this is not what you truly
want, the results could be disastrous." There's no easier way of
getting someone to do something than telling them that they
shouldn't. 'If she accepts this, she'll have a hook in her mouth.'
"Of course it's what I want!" the red head yelled, and meant it
- it was true after a fashion, "It's bad enough being a girl, but
people HATE me! What's the point in being a martial artist, or having
all this extra strength and speed, if the people I'm supposed to
protect are driving me away out of fear?" she ranted.
"In that case..." with a smile, the mage gestured along a
hidden path perpendicular to the one Ranma had initially taken, "Come
this way."
Ranma began to move, but hesitated... this guy admitted to
being a demon! Did she really want to go with him? Actually, he has
said he was /part/ demon. Could someone who was part demon be a good
guy? Either way, he didn't look like much and she reckoned she could
take him, even without the benefits of the draconic blood in her
veins. Besides, though she may be damned if she did go with him, she
was certainly damned if she didn't. It was worth the risk.
The red draconian had stopped only for a fraction of a second
to make her decision before continuing along the path... making sure
the mage was in front of her.
The narrow trail led a meandering course through the thick
undergrowth of the woods. After several minutes of walking in
silence, the two part humans came to a large rocky bluff, some twenty
feet tall, and stretching off in either direction beyond Ranma's
enhanced field of vision. The path entered the sheltered clearing at
its base, and then disappeared.
The demon mage didn't even slow down as he walked up to the
natural wall and, just as it seemed that he would do himself an
injury on the jagged rocks, disappeared, as surely as the path had.
Ranma halted and blink-blinked. After a moment or two, Getrith's head
poked through the rock face.
"Come along now," said the disembodied head, with that
characteristic gravely voice.
"Bu... but... cliff..." Ryu-Ranma sputtered out.
"Don't mind that - it's just an illusion." The head retracted
and disappeared.
Ranma collected her faculties together and realised that, not
only had she seen so much weird stuff of late that an illusory wall
was nothing, but the guy had introduced himself as a mage, so it was
not surprising that he was capable of such a thing. With that in mind
she stepped, hesitantly at first, through the non-existent section of
cliff. What greeted the dragon girl on the other side would not have
been out of place in a Tolkein-esque fantasy. Not that Ranma knew
what a Tolkein-esque fantasy was...
The demon's home, or possibly his work place, was a large cave,
some thirty feet across, fifty feet deep and half as tall as the
cliff it was in. A hanging tapestry of some sort, perhaps concealing
a sleeping area, sectioned off the rear of the cavern. The odd
rickety old chair and stool dotted the place.
The walls, though concave and irregular, were plastered with
shelves of all shapes and sizes, some of them fitted and others
adapted from natural ledges. The smaller and higher shelves contained
arrays of dusty, heavily bound books, which looked to be as old as
time. The larger, lower, natural ledges, which were more like
tabletops, had upon them a staggering array of vials, bottles, glass
corkscrew tubes and other such alchemic paraphernalia. The smells and
sights of bubbling potions and sparkling concoctions would have put
the best of mad scientists and budding Frankensteins to shame.
The floor had been worn smooth and flat by who knew how many
years worth of footsteps. Near the entrance, a round section of
floor, three or four foot across, was raised out of the ground, as if
it were made from a much harder stone and had resisted the gentle
wear of pattering feet. An embellished, five-pointed geometric
pattern had been engraved into this apparently natural dais. It was a
pentagram, though Ranma did not recognise it as such, nor its
purpose.
Standing just within the threshold, Ranma took in the sights
and sounds of this hidden space. Silently she was impressed, though
she tried hard not to let it show. Here was a wizard's lair, if ever
she saw one.
"Would you like some tea, or a bite to eat, before we begin?"
Getrith asked the halted girl, from where he was fussing over a set
of apparatus.
Ranma nodded enthusiastically before considering what the tea
might contain after being brewed in a place like this. Never the
less, she heartily ate the food she was provided with, and drank down
the normal tasting tea. Meanwhile, the mage began to look through his
library of ancient books, occasionally taking one out and inspecting
it, before placing on a pile.
"So, how'd you come to know what you know about Jusenkyo,
anyhow?" Ranma asked, still eating, trying to make light conversation
to ease the small discomfort she felt in this unfamiliar situation.
Getrith paused, as if to consider his answer, "My ancestors
created it as part of a wish by a powerful martial artist. As it
happened, he was the first to die there and have his form imprinted
upon a spring." He rattled off, casually, and then went back to his
activities.
"Jusenkyo was created by demons? Well that explains a lot."
The mage didn't respond to that, continuing to browse books and
collect various pouches of god-knows-what, and leaving Ranma to eat
in silence.
Once the demon had collected all the tools he required and the
dragon half had filled her cavernous stomach, Getrith asked Ranma to
stand in the centre of the pentagram.
"You sure you know what yer doing?" Ranma asked as she stepped
into the engraving.
"Yes," was the unemotional response, "First I must cast a
srcying spell to determine to specific nature of your particular
curse," this was the only part he was interested in, of course, and
it would tell much more than the details of a curse, "then I can
craft a seal which will lock you in your original form."
"Right..." that explanation had gone right over her head, apart
from 'will lock you in your original form', which was all she wanted
to hear, "Do I have to be in my cursed form for this? 'Cos I'd kinda
like to change back."
"You must remain in your cursed form." Again he spoke in an
unemotional, 'as a matter of fact' tone of voice. Reaching into one
of the pouches, he grabbed a fistful of dull powder. Uttering a few
syllables that were gibberish to Ranma, he blew the dust from his
palm onto the platform. The grains glittered purple before settling
on the pentagram, whose lines pulsed with white light for a moment,
then returned to stony dullness.
Ranma suddenly felt like he was standing in a vat of treacle.
Movement became difficult and breathing became laboured. Standing
became easier, though (if that were possible with her improved
strength and great fitness) as the initial stages of the spell
supported her super light, hybrid body.
'Damn...' she thought nervously, 'He's really got me at his
mercy now. I wasn't expecting this... I guess this is where I find
out if he's for real, or not.'
As the ritual progressed, the world became hazy, coherent
thought became next to impossible, and the passage of time lost its
meaning. Untold minutes of chanting, casting and other magical acts,
which defied Ranma's ability to describe, rolled by. Caught in the
spell's thrall, it felt like seconds and weeks, all at the same time.
After a short moment of eternities, the tone of the ritual
changed. The demon mage had completed the spell and was now
commanding it to reveal what he desired to know.
All at once, the memories of her entire life, plus snippets
from lives not her own, flashed through the enchanted girl's senses.
The memories were not just recalled, but relived from a thousand
viewpoints and a thousand different senses, all of which granted the
sensation of realness beyond reality. Although the recorded thoughts
were exposed simultaneously, the linearity of her mind's eye forced
the resurrected memories into a chaotic chain of linked ideas...
...A small, red, winged reptile fell from the sky. The poor creature
had barely escaped after a pack of humans bearing sharp, shiny,
pointy things had slain its mother and siblings. But the flight had
taken its toll, and what little energy the creature had left over
from its hatching had been used up. Too tired to catch a meal, or
even scavenge for some half rotten carcass, the little dragon glided
towards the only open space it could see. A space peppered with small
round pools and upright shafts of bamboo...
...He was starving. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so
much as a pot of instant ramen. Its not as if there wasn't enough
food for the both of them, but until he improved, until he was no
longer the weak girl that his father admonished him for being, until
he could /defeat his father/, he would always have his fair share
stolen away from under his nose...
...The cats were also starving. The string of fish sausages he was
wrapped up in would make a tasty meal for the ravenous felines. But
there wasn't enough to feed all those many pairs of feral, glowing
eyes. And while they fought each other over possession of such fishy
goodness, /somebody/ was going to get in the way...
...She was always getting in the way, or so the older villagers said.
Running around where she wasn't wanted, trampling crops and scaring
farm animals, or bumping into women as they carried their daily
shopping home from the small market. They never paid any attention to
her, except to tell her to buzz off. Even her parents seemed to
ignore her, and her brothers and sisters gave her nothing but grief.
It was obvious she wasn't wanted, so that's why she had decided to go
for a little walk, with no intention of returning. Collecting
together whatever supplies she could think to gather, and that little
multipurpose knife that her great grand mother had given her, before
she passed away, she had calmly walked out of the hamlet that had
been her home for all eleven years of her life.
Now she was staring out across Jusenkyo. It was a place she had heard
much about, but rarely had been told anything new. Really, all she
knew about the place was that it was a martial training ground, it
had many, many springs, it was horribly cursed, and that it was
STRICTLY forbidden to come here. And that's exactly why she had
decided to come here. But the journey had been long and tiring. She
really needed to have a drink, and something to eat. Well, there was
plenty of spring water to drink, cook with, or bath in. She'd collect
some later, after building a fire...
...The fire burned with a mindless rage in the cold of the desert
night. Through the twisting, flickering flames of the bonfire, a
figure could be seen. It was a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She
was covered from head to toe with coloured paints, or perhaps mud.
Her stance, though it appeared feral, was accomplished and reeked of
strength. Her eyes shined with a wild spirit...
That last memory puzzled Ranma somewhat. Who on earth was that
girl? And why the heck was she seeing the memory from her point of
view? Somehow she felt that she should know, that she /did/ know, but
was unable to pin the thought down.
The origins of the other memories that were not her own were
fairly obvious: they were of the girl and baby dragon who had drowned
at Jusenkyo so long ago, shortly before succumbing to the springs.
Absently, she decided that the guide had not been making things up
when he had said that the stories behind the springs were tragic. No
wonder it was called the valley of sorrow, and it had nothing to do
with the people who fell in the imprinted pools.
Getrith knew exactly who the wild girl was, and what it meant.
That particular memory's presence scared him as much as it confused
him. After all, the legend went 'In every generation, a chosen one is
born'. The chosen one was always female, but Ranma had been born a
boy! And he still was a boy, with the application of a little hot
water. How could he have inherited a mantle destined only for
womankind?
Still, the memories gushed forth, revealing (in no particular
order) Ranma's entire life, interspersed with the adopted experiences
of an orphaned dragon, a lonely village girl and another girl, who
had the strength and skill to battle demons... and win.
The visions were not really providing the mage with the answers
he required, though. Actually, there seemed to be more and more
questions popping up. Normally Jusenkyo had an excellent reason for
the choice of curse it would guide its visitors into acquiring. The
usual reasoning was 'poetic justice'. The curse was meant to change a
person for the better, if the victim was a good enough person to make
the most of things. Often the form of the curse also highlighted some
deficiency in the victim's personality or outlook. Also, Jusenkyo
never allowed a 'cursee' to be cured, unless he or she did change for
the better and could only find peace without the curse, or a truly
powerful being intervened - the magic of Jusenkyo was so strong that
perhaps only the 'Powers That Be' could do so, however.
Ranma's curse though... well, for a start, Jusenkyo had
actually allowed him to return in an attempt to find a cure! That was
strange enough in its self. That he would then have his curse
multiplied was almost impossible to understand.
The reasons for his drowning in the Nyaniichuan were becoming
fairly obvious, as memories of his chauvinistic father's upbringing
were revealed. A more harsh curse would probably have befallen him
were he not such a good person at heart... but that just made the
second cursing that much harder to understand.
Being brought up to believe that girls were weak and useless,
and being called a girl as an insult on so many occasions, was what
made the first curse so apt. Not only had he become something he had
been taught to look down upon, but he was also genuinely weaker, in a
literal sense. The second cursing had taken that particular element
away, making the learnt negative aspects of femininity iconic only.
It had largely been replaced by the inability to be accepted by other
humans. But why? Ranma was a /good person/. Why had Jusenkyo punished
him like that? Could it have something to do with the Slayer?
Getrith mulled over the mysteries of the unfortunate curse
victim and developed a plan of action. Though he was mostly human,
and was generally kind hearted towards full-blooded humans, his
allegiance was to demon kind. The power he had detected in this
hapless dragon girl was not from one single source - it was partly
from Ranma's training as a martial artist (something which surprised
the mage no end, considering the skill levels required for that much
power) and it was also partly from her dormant abilities granted for
a calling yet to be realised. As a demon (or part thereof), it was
his duty to make sure that that hidden potential was never released.
He knew that he was not powerful enough to seal the whole curse, or
the sleeping threat within, but his humanity prevented him from
outright murder. A couple of years without a Dragon Half ripping
through the world's demon population would do to fulfil his
obligation wouldn't it?
The last few memories flickered through the magic's gaze. The
very last memory was of the painted girl with fire in her eyes... the
first Slayer.
*
Where the heck was Pop? That's not the first question most
people come out with when recovering from unconsciousness and a
slight bought of amnesia, but then, Ranma wasn't most people. Most
people don't turn into buxom young girls when splashed with cold
water. Most people aren't sold off or abandoned by their father on a
daily basis, while being dragged about on a ten year training journey
across half the continent, but that did go some way to explaining why
the black haired asian boy-turned-girl wasn't wondering where she was
or why her only possessions were the slightly grubby white gi she was
wearing.
"Damnit Pop! You already swiped everything I had that was worth
somethin' last week! What was the point in runnin' off with my stuff
this time?" she shouted angrily at the small clearing she'd woken up
in. Hopping to her feet, she grumbled some more, "Man, he even took
my bed roll 'n' stuff. Stupid panda. What a cheapskate."
A load, moaning growl from her stomach interrupted further
grumbling and replaced it with the though 'Damn, I'm hungry'. Taking
a moment to get her bearings from the rising sun, she ran off in the
direction she assumed her father would have gone, and hopefully the
direction in which she would find food. Unfortunately it take quite
some time before she eventually managed to get her hands on something
to eat, and when she did, it was little more than a bowl of rice
porridge.
* * *
Half a world a way and half a year later, a young woman
travelled to places unknown. It did not matter where she went
physically; it was her disastrous spiritual journey she had been
blundering along recently, and, indeed, for most of her life, that
occupied her thoughts now.
There was much to be thought about, that was for sure. But did
she even want to think about it? Not really. Her life sucked. She
didn't even have a life anymore. No, she never really had a life to
begin with. So maybe there wasn't anything to be thought about,
anyway. She didn't have time to think. What was the point? Maybe that
had been the problem all along? Damn everything to hell! Again!
Faith looked out across the rolling countryside from the open
door of the boxcar. The landscape was beautiful. It was a natural
beauty that would normal have washed over the wild slayer, but now,
with the illusions that had sustained her insanity destroyed by the
collapse of everything that had been important to her - her own
desires and needs - she let the serene sights calm what was left of
her distraught soul.
The sound of a high-pitched horn, rapidly getting closer,
brought the runaway out of her emotional reverie. Idly she assumed
that there must be another train about to pass by on the other track.
She was right to some extent. In fact there was only the one track on
this line - the other train was travelling along a siding meant to
allow trains going in opposite directions or different speeds to pass
safely.
Faith knew she must have had terrible luck, or bad karma, or
something of the sort - it was the only explanation for how things
could have gone so horribly wrong for her - but she would never
realise just how bad her luck must have been just now. The freight
train she had stowed away on had three occupants. They were herself
and two engineers in the lead locomotive. When a malfunctioning
signal had failed to stop the passing train in the siding, there were
nearly thirty boxcars in Faith's train that the other train could
have smashed into and utterly destroyed when the two tracks
converged. Somehow it managed to collide with the one that she had
clambered into.
Though to the disinterested observer, it was obviously a 100
tonne diesel-electric freight locomotive, travelling at some seventy
or eighty miles per hour, Faith had absolutely no idea what hit her.
Maybe if she had known, she would have been safe, because despite the
odds against it, the two engineers in the other train somehow managed
to survive to crash. Faith's battered and mangled body was the only
one found amongst the wreckage.
*
"There's still time! Be a man and stop her!" Ryoga Hibiki said
in what was supposed to be his most persuasive voice.
"In your dreams, Ryoga," was Ranma's nonchalant reply. It did
seem a bit of a waste, though, he thought as he watched the clear,
starry night from where she lay on the roof of the Tendo Dojo. She
hadn't quite intended to hurt the amazon girl that much, either, but
she hadn't really been thinking about the consequences, only caring
that Shampoo would leave Akane alone.
Not quite being able to tolerate the lost boy's presence for
much longer, Ranma got up, declared "Well, I'm going to bed," then
hopped down to ground level. Before calling it a night, she decided
that a nice hot bath was in order (besides, she didn't like sleeping
in her female form, not since that 'challenge' from Kuno to the
'Tree-Borne Kettle Girl', anyway, though she couldn't put a finger on
exactly why).
Entering the bathroom, she stripped and started to wash herself
up. Her activities were halt by a sudden stab of pain throughout her
body and the most shocking migraine. For a moment she felt very
strange. She was convinced that, even if only for a second, she had
wings! Suddenly nauseous, faint and dazed, she tried to crawl over to
the sink, in case she threw up, but instead ended up bumping into the
large wall mirror.
With the disorientation passing she glanced at her refection.
She looked pale and sickly, though colour was quickly returning to
her cheeks. Something caught her attention, though. Amongst one of
the locks of hair that cascaded over her brow was a single dull red
hair.
Now feeling much better, she ignored the odd hair and dismissed
the whole affair as being due to 'something she ate'. She continued
with her bath and eventually went to bed. Sleep came quickly and
naturally to him, but his dreams were stranger than usual, involving
images of strange, ugly people and Chinese villagers throwing
pitchforks at him.
The following morning, somehow reminded by his pre-waking
dreams, he checked his hair in the bathroom. Not a red hair in
sight... until he splashed himself with cold water and checked again.
There were now at least two red hairs that she could see of, and some
more that seemed only tinted red. Despite being slightly curious, and
also slightly disturbed, she ignored the odd colouration and
continued with her day as normal.
The dreams got stranger in the following nights, though, and
each morning he would check his hair and find that she was slowly
turning into a redhead. She kept quiet as she gradually gained some
insight from those odd dreams until, many months later, the dreams
stopped being dreams at all...
TBC
Lyrics are from /No Control/ by David Bowie
C&C welcome and desired, (say what you like, but flames will be
ignored, and my repsonse will be as harsh as your criticism)
Send it to curator@discordia.connectfree.co.uk,
or the FFML, if you have something particularly interesting to say.
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