Greetings, FFML -
It's been a while. In fact, it's been since September 2000
that I last published a complete chapter of "Relentless."
Um... how time flies, huh?
All right, here's the deal. "Relentless" is very close to being
finished. In fact, it is so close that I have posted a schedule
on the website for the release dates of the next five chapters,
which will take us to the end of the tale.
Except for two epilogues. But never mind those for the moment.
Basically, the story is done. So I figured I would sign back
on to the FFML in order to properly post the completed fic.
For those who might never have read it or don't remember it
all that well, I will first start by posting the existing
chapters (Prologue - Ch. 13) again, at a rate of 2/day.
I have updated these chapters as well. Some of them contain
only minor fixes, others have scenes which have been
substantially rewritten. So even if you've read "Relentless"
before, hopefully it will still be worth it to you to check
it out one more time.
Okay? Here we go ...
Grayson Towler
http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless
=========================
RELENTLESS
A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction
By Grayson Towler
=========================
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PROLOGUE
-----------------------------------------------------------
Ranma awoke with a shout of terror, lurching forward and
clutching his chest.
<A dream!> he told himself. <Just a nightmare! Man, that was
spooky.> He tried to fit together the jumble of ephemeral
images and sensations from his nightmare. Something dark...
something with claws... three burning globes set against a
black field...
Before he could really apply form to the dream memories and
make sense of them, he was caught totally unaware by his
father's kick. His body went sailing out the window, hurtling
through the air towards its inevitable destination...
<The pond,> Ranma thought with bitter resignation as the
jarringly cold water enveloped him. <I spend more time in this
stupid pond...>
"Hey old man!" the drenched and irate Ranma-chan shouted.
"What the heck d'ya think you're doin'?"
"How dare you wake your father up from his well-earned rest!"
Genma shouted back in that righteous tone that set Ranma's
teeth on edge. "I was too lenient on you, boy!"
"I had a nightmare, ya stupid old goon!"
Genma snorted. "You and your nightmares. And that's your excuse
for letting your guard down?"
"I shoulda known better than to expect sympathy from you!"
"If your dreams are so vivid, Ranma, maybe you should be
practicing in your sleep!" the elder Saotome asserted with
a sneer. "Maybe then you wouldn't be so sloppy in your
defense. Why, I ought to..."
SPLASH!<
"Growf."
"Will you two knock it off?" Akane threw down her now-empty
bucket and stomped back towards her room. "People are trying
to sleep here!"
Ranma-chan refrained from making a comment about Akane's need
for beauty sleep. It might have surprised some people to find
that Ranma didn't actually blurt out every snide remark that
leaped into his(her) head. The circuit breakers between his
brain and his mouth weren't the best, but they did actually
exist.
Ranma-chan picked up a towel on the way back to bed. It was
a warm summer night in Nerima, so at least getting dunked didn't
end up making her miserable. Her moronic panda father was
already sleeping like a stone when she got back to the room.
She toyed with the idea of sneak-attacking him, as he'd done
to her, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble.
<That jerk,> she thought as she drifted out of consciousness.
<I can't even remember my dream now. 'Practicing in my sleep.'
Brilliant idea, you dumb fuzzball. Where the heck... does he
come up... with this stuff...>
Soon, Ranma-chan was snoring in time with her father. Peace
returned, at least temporarily, to the Tendou Dojo.
- - - - - -
It was a special evening at the Temple of Three. The old
high priestess had passed on, and her daughter was soon to
take her place. Tonight was the night of the Past,
the night of remembrance.
The Temple of Three is a place where the oldest of religions
is observed. It is a secret place, known only to the women
who have been brought into its fold and taught its ancient
ways. If there is a similar faith reserved for men, the women
of the Temple of Three do not speak of it, and this story
does not say. The incarnations of the Three have permeated
religions and mythology since human beings first began to
speak. Whatever they have been called- Goddesses,
Fates, Norns, Furies - they have always represented the Past,
the Present, and the Future.
Tonight, they remembered their dead. Aoki Nariko, soon to be
High Priestess, stood before the altar of the Past and addressed
the small assembly. She held her chin high, her beautiful dark
eyes sparkling in the torchlight, her long hair braided with
shining beads.
She was only human, of course, and still filled with the
uncertainty and sadness which follows the death of one most
loved, but she had been prepared as a person could be. The
funeral had been days ago, but it had not seemed real to her.
This was where she would truly bid farewell to her mother,
and this is where she would finally pick up the torch which
had been carried by the women in her family for countless
generations.
Her voice was clear and steady as she spoke, and this pleased
her. Tonight was not the night for grief - this was the ceremony
of the Past, where her mother would always exist. Tomorrow,
in the ceremony of the Present, she would be free to cry for
the loss of the person whom she loved so dearly. And the night
after, the night of the Future, she would gird herself to carry
on, and pray for the reunion which she hoped her future would
hold.
Tonight, Nariko spoke of her mother's achievements, of the life
she had lived. She spoke of her family, of their friends, of
times dark and light, and of the secret Temple where she had
done so much to keep the oldest of faiths alive and strong.
Others added their memories and spoke of their friendship with
the woman that all of them would keenly miss. It was a time
of bittersweet joy, a time to remember, a time to cherish what
has been.
"Now, we offer to the goddess of Past the artifacts of my mother's
life, the things she cherished while she lived." This was an old
custom - the modern Temple no longer believed that the dead
really took their possessions into the next world, but the old
customs were still observed all the same. Nariko gave a signal,
and a procession formed towards the altar, each woman bearing
some material goods from her mother's life.
"Here was the diary in which she wrote as a child. Here were
the photographs of her family, of her friends. Here is a painting
she made for her first love, who died in war and left her with
a broken heart. Here are the clothes she wore when she was
courting the man she would marry..."
"How SWEET!"
The outburst was as jarring as a bomb blast in the solemn
temple. Nariko staggered back in shock, her mind totally
unprepared for an interruption of this magnitude. The lacquered
wood box in which her mother's clothes had been placed suddenly
burst open, and from it there exploded a figure so shriveled
and misshapen that she at first could not believe it was human.
"PRETTY LADY!" it hooted, and launched itself directly at her
chest.
Nariko shrieked and staggered backwards, desperately batting
at the troll-like thing until it finally leaped away from her,
bounding towards the pack of shocked and horrified women. It
ricocheted and rocketed around the room, carrying a bag
overloaded with women's underwear... including those which
had been in her mother's box.
Several of the women here were fighters - the Temple had not
survived this long without being able to defend itself. They
were the first to organize, advancing on the cackling old
creature with weapons and fists. Yet for all their skill,
none could lay a finger on the demented being who had invaded
their sacred temple. The speed with which he moved beggared
description. He dove between the legs of a swordswoman who
had never known defeat, bouncing out from under her dress and
away like a rubber ball, with her panties in his withered
grasp.
"Nice try, girlies, but you have to be faster than that to
catch the Master of Anything-Goes Martial Arts!"
Nariko could only gasp and clutch her chest, unable to properly
draw breath, her mind reeling with the enormity of the affront.
Here, in this sacred place, on this holy night, this horrid
little creature had come and defiled the things most dear to
her heart. He had stolen her mother's clothes, he had tormented
the members of her Temple, and he had... there was simply no
way around the truth of it... he had GLOMPED her.
The invader seemed to finally have had his fill, and had leaped
to one of the upper windows to make his escape, when Aoki Nariko
finally recovered her wits. "Hold there!" she shouted. Her
voice was so filled with power and rage that even the old man
turned to face her with fear in his eyes.
"You..." she thundered, her voice echoing off ancient beams,
"... you have violated this sacred place. You have dared to
interrupt this holy ceremony, you have dared to profane my mother,
you have..." She seemed to falter for a moment, unable to find
the words to articulate the depth of his transgression.
The other women had grown serious and solemn in their collective
anger. The old man looked down upon the assembly of women, their
eyes full of silent fury, and listened as their leader spoke.
"Had you attacked tomorrow, the Goddess of the Present would
have given us the power to defeat you. Had you attacked the day
after, the Goddess of the Future would have foreseen your coming
and aided us in stopping you. But tonight is the night of the
Past. The answer for your crime... is REVENGE."
She whirled and faced the altar of the goddess of the Past,
raising her arms and focusing the magic which her mother had
been teaching her since she had learned to walk. "Seek the
Master of Anything-Goes Martial Arts! Pursue him to the ends
of the earth so he may be punished for what he has done. I call
thee forth... REIKOKU!"
The assembly of women echoed the word. "REIKOKU!"
"Oopsie," Happosai muttered to himself as he fled into the night.
"Those ladies sure can't take a joke..."
end of prologue
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
-----------------------------------------------------------
Anybody else ever notice that Ranma seems to have some really
vivid dreams?
"Reikoku" is a Japanese word with the proper sound to it that
means, more or less, what I wanted it to mean - "relentless,
merciless, unstoppable." At least that's what my Japanese
dictionary seems to say it means. With a different kanji,
though, it comes out meaning "the regular time," which just
goes to show that you have to be careful with this translation
business. If anyone has some more insight into the word and how
it's commonly used, I'd be keen to hear it.
REVISION NOTES: Nothing really for this intro.
COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko,
and are licensed in America by Viz Communications.
GRT - May 1998
MODIFIED - April 2005
Thunderstruck_comic@comcast.net
All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.talesfromthevault.com/relentless
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