[FFML] [R1/2] Hearts of Ice, Epilogue

[Krista Fisk]

13 years.

I started this fic in July of 1996.  And now, with the exception of 
whatever editing I do thanks to whatever C&C is provided, it is done.  
Complete.  Over.  The story I set out to tell has been told.

Hopefully you enjoy it.


-Krista

--------------------------------------------
The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession 
of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

------------------------------------------------
Hearts of Ice                     
Epilogue
by Krista Fisk
------------------------------------------------


    The mountains that surrounded the walled village of Nujiezu (known 
to Japanese outsiders as Joketsuzoku) were pale stone, bare of 
vegetation.  The smooth peaks were devoid of rough edges, the stone 
having been worn smooth by ages of erosion.  Legend said that the first 
Amazon woman had come into existence at the same time the mountains 
themselves were born of the earth, birthed by the same power.  Some 
believed that the mountains housed the spirits of all Amazon ancestors.

    Cologne looked on the mountains as she approached the village gate 
and, for the first time in her long life, rather than feeling uplifted 
with the pride of her tribe's strong, distinguished bloodline, felt as 
if she carried the weight of those mountains on her shoulders.

    Two guards met her at the gate; girls she recognized, about 
Shampoo's age.  They greeted her by name and she responded in turn.
 
    "Inform Sheng Zhi that I have returned and that I require a meeting 
of the Elders," said Cologne.

    One of the guards bowed slightly, and Cologne couldn't help but 
notice that the bow was not as deep as it should have been.  "The Elders 
have already convened," the guard said.  "They gathered as soon as the 
Watchers made them aware of your approach."

    So, news of her failure had preceded her, but then she knew it would 
be painfully obvious since she was returning alone.  Well, at least she 
wouldn't have to wait.  Without another word, she left the guards at the 
gate and headed for the Hall of the Elders.

    Cologne was expecting near darkness when she entered the windowless 
hall.  Instead, the circular hall was filled with the glow of hundreds 
of lit candles.  They must have indeed seen her coming from afar to be 
this prepared.

    The Elders were already seated and waiting for her.  Her seat was 
conspicuously empty, but she did not move to sit.  Instead she stood 
before them, and looked into their faces.  Most of the expressions that 
met her gaze were carefully blank, but Sheng Zhi, Weimen and Zongxian, 
three of her closest friends, looked at her with puzzled sadness.

    Sheng Zhi spoke first.  "Kho Lon," she said, "Where is Xian Pu, and 
where is her rightful husband?"

    Cologne closed her eyes, surprised at how they suddenly stung.  "Her 
rightful husband is dead, killed by demons," she said.  Then she looked 
up at Sheng Zhi.  "I saw his body myself, and bear witness of it."

    Sheng Zhi's eyes widened in surprise.  "Then you and Xian Pu are 
free from your obligation.  Why, then, has she not returned with you?"

    No need to draw it out, Cologne thought.  Best make it quick and 
sharp.  "Xian Pu has broken with the tribe," she said, an announcement 
that was greeted with various degrees of audible shock and disbelief 
from the Elders.  "She has openly rebelled and has returned to Japan 
with Mu Tzu as her husband.  And I... I have been defeated by an 
outsider.  I was unable to administer the Kiss of Death afterward.  I 
have returned to the tribe to restore the fallen honor of my family 
through the ritual of blood."

    At this, the gasps and mutterings fell silent.

    "This is a very serious thing you propose," said Sheng Zhi after a 
long moment.  "Are you certain of your course of action?"

    "Honored Sister," replied Cologne.  "Since I received your letter a 
little over a month ago, I have done many things for the sake of 
fulfilling our obligations of honor and upholding our sacred traditions 
that have made my soul shrink.  I took calculated risks that ended not 
only in failure, but in the death of the one who was the objective we 
sought.  Over the course of these events, the heart of my 
great-granddaughter failed her, and she chose weakness over strength, 
and banishment over restoration to the tribe.  I also inadvertently 
empowered my enemies and gave them the means by which to defeat me.  For 
these crimes against the tribe and my ancestors, honor demands nothing 
less of me than the blood ritual.  You know this as well as I, and for 
the sake of honor, I will not now hesitate to do what needs to be done 
to restore what has been lost."

    Sheng Zhi regarded her soberly.  Then she sighed.  "So be it," she 
said, and her voice was barely above a whisper.  "Who will witness?"

    "I will bear witness," said Weimen.

    "As will I," said Zongxian.

    "Then I shall be the third," said Sheng Zhi.

    With this announcement, the rest of the Elders stood and left the 
hall silently, each bowing deeply to Cologne as they passed her.

    When none were left but Cologne and her witnesses, Sheng Zhi walked 
over to the altar that stood at the very back of the hall and retrieved 
an unremarkable wooden box. 

    Weimen reached out and put her hand on Cologne's good shoulder, 
observant of the injury in her other, and said, "I always believed you 
were the strongest among us, and this proves it.  I shall not let this 
be forgotten."

    "Thank you," said Cologne.

    Zongxian just shook her head as Sheng Zhi returned with the wooden 
box.  "Xian Pu and Mu Tzu.  I thought she hated him."

    "So did I," replied Cologne.  "Perhaps she still might... but I 
think she hates being alone more."

    "Mm.  A terrible weakness."

    Cologne nodded, wordlessly took the wooden box from Sheng Zhi's 
hands, and opened it.  Inside lay the sacred dagger, the blade chiseled 
from the stone of the top-most peak of God Mountain Amesores.  The blade 
had no hilt or guard.  She took it up in her withered hands and felt the 
razor edge slice the skin.  Blood began to trickle from her fingers.

    She looked at each of her old friends, memories of older, better 
times filling her mind, and closed her eyes.

    Sheng Zhi spoke, and her voice filled the hall.  "Kho Lon, beloved 
matriarch of the Ancient Tribe, we three Elders witness this, your final 
act, and declare your honor unblemished before our ancestors, and swear 
that your name, and the names of your family, shall be spoken of with 
honor to our descendants until the end of time."

    "Go in strength," said Zongxian.

    "You will be missed," whispered Weimen.

    *Shampoo,* thought Cologne.  *I do this for love and honor of only you.*

    *Please... be happy, child.*

    Cologne plunged the dagger into her chest, aiming for her heart.

    She did not miss, and as she fell, she caught the scent of mold on 
the wind and felt the caress of Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei's cold, dead hand on 
her face....

-----------------------------

    The Land of Yomi wasn't nearly as bad as he expected it to be, 
Masakazu mused as he sipped cold sake.  Yes, it was underground in a 
deep cavern, but there was plenty of light.  Aside from the perpetual 
blue flames that hovered around the deceased inhabitants, the city that 
seemed to stretch endlessly off in every direction had lit paper 
lanterns strung across every street.  Stores bustled, inns made good 
business.  He'd seen a few parties, a few street festivals.  Dead people 
chatted, laughed, sulked, cried.

    It wasn't great.  But then, it wasn't all that bad either.

    He had made this particular inn his home because it was close to a 
decent hot spring, and because the lady proprietor had died of a drug 
overdose, which made her one of the less gruesome dead people to be 
around.  People in Yomi tended to wear their deaths like badges of 
pride.  Still, Nakamura-san kept the place clean, Masakazu's room 
afforded him some privacy, and the public areas, such as the back patio 
where he now sat, leisurely setting up a Shogi board, didn't see much 
traffic when there was a festival nearby.  Which was often.

    Masakazu looked up as he heard the inn's front door open, and 
footsteps head his direction.

    The cause of the footsteps, Susa-no-o, came around the corner.  
"Yo," the deity said with a cheeky grin and a hand raised in greeting.

    Masakazu didn't even blink.  "I expected you sooner," he said.

    Susa-no-o frowned.  "Come on.  You're not even the least bit 
surprised to see me?"

    Masakazu shook his head.  "I figured they had to have caught you, 
when they came and let Hoso-no Kami out."  He gestured for the man to 
sit on the other side of the Shogi board.

    Susa-no-o did so, snorting his indignation.  "They didn't catch me.  
I surrendered myself."

    That *did* surprise Masakazu.  "What?  Why would you do that?"

    Obviously pleased that he had finally gotten a reaction out of his 
tengu friend, Susa-no-o smirked.  "Well, for one thing, who in their 
right mind would want to spend one more moment than necessary in Hoso-no 
Kami's disgusting body?"  Susa-no-o shuddered dramatically.  "I only 
wanted to stick around long enough to see how things turned out.  The 
Council, they're so ridiculous.  As if sending me to Yomi was 
punishment.  I guess they don't remember that Daddy Izanagi created me 
by washing off excess Yomi after he visited here trying to get Mom to 
leave.  Had to 'purify' himself after coming to the land of the dead, 
and blew me right out of his nose."  Susa-no-o threw up his hands and 
waved them in mock distress.  "Oh, no, don't banish me to Yomi!  Please 
please *please* don't throw me in that there briar patch!"

    Masakazu laughed.  "I should have known."

    "Eh, best you didn't.  I would hate that overstuffed shirt, Emma-O, 
to realize that I like it here.  It would make him all grumpy again.  
Better for our young mortal friends that he stays cheerful."

    "And how *are* our young mortal friends?"

    Susa-no-o grinned.  "Blissfully in love, of course.  Just got back 
from their honeymoon."

    Masakazu actually gaped.  "What?  You mean they got married?  That 
quick?"

    "Practically as soon as they got back to Japan and could get things 
arranged.  Of course, with their dads, that didn't take long."

    Masakazu shook his head.  "Well, I figured Akane was ready... but I 
didn't expect Ranma to agree to it so soon."

    Susan-no-o leaned over the Shogi board and whispered, "It was 
Ranma's idea."

    "I don't believe you.  Ranma?  Ready for marriage?"

    Susa-no-o chuckled.  "I think he finally realized that, after coming 
to terms with his feelings for Akane, then facing down and utterly 
conquering his worst nightmares, and then even coming back from the dead 
all for the sake of the woman he loves... well, what could be so scary 
about marrying her?"

    Masakazu barked a laugh.  "He has no idea."

    "That's right," Susa-no-o agreed seriously.  "Dying is easy.  
Marriage is *hard*."

    "That reminds me," said the tengu, offering the god a sake cup, "how 
is the missus?"

    Susa-no-o took the cup, filled it from the jug Masakazu had on hand, 
and drained it in one gulp.  "Ahhhh...  Pretty sure she's not crying 
over me being banished to Yomi again."

    Masakazu snorted, then gestured to the board.  "So are we going to 
play or what?"

    Pouring himself another cup of sake, Susa-no-o settled down 
comfortably on the other side of the board, drank, and immediately moved 
a piece.  "Your turn."

    Several turns later, while Susa-no-o was silently pondering his next 
move, Masakazu said, "Hey... so do you think they'll make it?"

    Susa-no-o looked up.  "Who, Ranma and Akane?"  He laughed as if that 
was the craziest question he'd ever heard.  "After everything they've 
been through to reach this point?  Of course.  Neither of them would 
ever be willing to conceded defeat, even if marriage is the hardest 
thing they'll ever do.  Besides."  Susa-no-o threw back another cup of 
sake.  "It's True Love."

    With a smile glinting in his black eyes, Masakazu nodded in 
agreement, and took a turn.

    Susa-no-o didn't notice.

-----------------------------

   
    Ryoga sat in his tent in the middle of the Japanese forest 
wilderness, reading a shonen manga in the grey light of a stormy 
afternoon.  He was waiting for the rain to let up so that he could find 
some work since he was starting to run a bit low on funds, and this time 
of year he could usually find some farmer in need of hard labor who was 
willing to hire him on for a week or so.  Sometimes longer, if he didn't 
inadvertently get lost in the meantime.

    So, isolated as he was, he was surprised to hear the sound of 
someone calling his name over the incessant pounding of the rain against 
the tent.  Moments later, that someone was at his tent flap.

    "Ryoga?  Hey, you decent in there?"

    Ryoga blinked.  "Nabiki?"

    Nabiki lifted up the tent flap with one hand and peeked in.  She was 
wearing a blue rain slicker and holding an umbrella in her other hand.  
"Ryoga?  Mind if I come in?  It's kind of wet out here."

    Ryoga sighed.  "Sure, Nabiki.  And since you're here, I'm guessing 
I'm not in Yatsugatake, like I thought."

    "Nope.  You're in the woods next to Furinkan High."

    Ryoga sighed again.  He got lost so frequently in those woods, he 
thought he should be able to recognize *something* by now.  Apparently 
not.  "So what can I do for you, Nabiki?" he asked as she sat down at 
the tent entrance, doing her best not to drip water deeper into the tent.

    "Actually, I have something for you.  A present from Ranma."

    Ryoga raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "From Ranma?"

    "Yeah," said Nabiki, reaching into her jacket pocket.  "He would 
have brought it himself, but, well, he said he didn't want to rub salt 
into your wounds so soon after... you know."

    Ryoga smiled sadly.  "Eh, it's okay.  I'm over it, mostly."

    Nabiki smirked.  "Well, hopefully this will get you the rest of the 
way over it."  She pulled her hand out of her pocket and held out a 
small, plain silver ring.

    "A ring?"  Ryoga shook his head, puzzled.  "Okay, what's the joke?"

    "Take a closer look, Ryoga.  Notice anything familiar about the metal?"

    Ryoga picked up the ring from Nabiki's outstretched palm and 
examined it.  The silver band had a strange reddish tint to it.  He 
blinked.  "Wait," he said, and his heart pounded hard inside his chest.  
"Is this... this isn't..."

    "It is," Nabiki said, grinning.  "Ranma had rings made from that oni 
collar... and they work.  That one is yours, Ryoga, magic intact."

    Ryoga was so stunned, he couldn't think of anything to say.  With 
shaking hands, he slipped the ring over his right index finger.  The 
blood was pounding so hard inside his head that he almost couldn't hear 
Nabiki as she opened the tent flap, gestured outside, and said, "Go 
ahead, try it out."

    Ryoga half stood, then hesitated.  He didn't think Ranma would do 
this to trick him; not after everything that had happened.  But... what 
if it didn't work?  With his luck, he was probably immune or something.  
A cure, so close, right in his hand, and it probably didn't even--

    Nabiki rolled her eyes in exasperation, grabbed Ryoga's arm, and 
pulled him outside into the downpour.

    Ryoga stood, frozen in shock, soaking wet, as he quite definitely 
did not turn into a little black piglet.

    Nabiki stood back and watched, enjoying the look of ecstatic joy 
that slowly blossomed on Ryoga's face. 

    He looked up into the storm, letting the rain pour into his face and 
raised his fists to the sky.  "Ah-HA!" he cried.  "At *LAST!*"

    Nabiki laughed.  "How does it feel?"

    Ryoga wanted to stand out here in the rain forever.  "Like a hot 
shower!" he said.  "The rain is hot!"

    "That's the ring," Nabiki said, watching as the rain steamed in the 
cool around Ryoga.  "As long as you wear it, no cold water will ever 
touch you."

    Ryoga closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of the water against 
his skin.  Then, abruptly, he turned to Nabiki, earnestness in his 
features.  "Tell Ranma thank you," he said.  "This... this is more than 
I deserve."

    Nabiki raised an eyebrow.  "Tell him yourself," she said.  "We're 
having a celebration at my house tonight, and you're invited as one of 
the guests of honor.  Kasumi, Ukyo and Shampoo are cooking fantastic 
food as we speak, so what do you say?  Why don't you come back to the 
dojo with me and celebrate with your friends?"

    Somewhere, deep in a dark corner of Ryoga's soul, a part of him 
wanted to say, no thank you.  Celebrate without me, I don't really need 
to see Ranma and Akane together as husband and wife, even if they do 
think of me as their friend...

    The rest of Ryoga, the part that, for the first time in a long time, 
saw real hope in the future, stomped on that deep dark part firmly.  
Ryoga found himself smiling at Nabiki and saying, "Okay."

    It took him practically no time at all to pack, and as he followed 
Nabiki back to the Tendo Dojo where his friends waited, he couldn't help 
but think that today was a good day to be alive.

-----------------------------


    Yuki-onna kept a silent vigil over her mortal friends.

    Since parting with them in the Chinese wilderness, rather than 
returning to her realm in the Kami plane, Yuki-onna had chosen instead 
to follow.  Akane and Ranma did not know, and Yuki-onna preferred it 
that way. 

    It helped that spring was slowly turning to summer, and the Snow 
Woman found that in the warming climate she was barely able to summon 
the strength to manifest herself as a physical presence.  But she 
watched them all the same, a voiceless, invisible guardian from an 
encroaching danger that they did not imagine.

    For she knew that, someday, *he* would come.  She had known it from 
the moment she realized the means by which Ranma had returned from 
death.  He would come to claim what had been stolen out from under him 
in his own domain.

    And, on the night of the celebration, in the early morning hours 
after the party had finally died down and both guests and hosts had gone 
to bed and were sleeping soundly... he finally came.

    Emma-O was in a good mood.  All that nasty business with Susa-no-o 
and Hoso-no Kami had finally been straightened out.  The trickster deity 
was trapped in Yomi where he belonged, along with his tengu cohort, and 
seemed to be bearing his punishment well without attempting to torment 
his captor with his inane poetry.  Emma-O's personal realm had been 
blessedly silent for a while.  Now all that remained was this last loose 
end that needed tying up.

    The boy was sleeping, curled protectively around a beautiful young 
woman with long dark hair who seemed quite content to be in his arms.

    Emma-O frowned slightly.  Normally he did not personally indulge in 
the collection of souls, but he had made an exception in this case.  
Now, as he stepped forward to pluck the impertinent boy's soul from his 
mortal shell, he paused a moment, imagining how the young woman would 
react to wake and find that her lover had died in his sleep.  Not lover, 
*husband,* he realized as he saw the matching rings on their left hands, 
glinting in the moonlight that poured through the window.  Certainly it 
would be a tragic scene... one he chose not to dwell on further.

    This boy had dared defy his authority over the dead and had found a 
means to return to life without his power.  This boy needed to be taught 
that one did not escape the inevitable that easily.  It was time to end 
this farce now.  The god of the dead leaned over and reached toward the 
boy's face.

    "Emma-O..."

    He turned at the voice, surprised to see an apparition, pale, 
translucent, with white flowing hair that fell to the floor, appear 
within the room.  He was even more surprised a moment later when he 
realized that he recognized her.  "Yuki-onna," he said.  The hauntingly 
beautiful woman of the snow, who ofttimes served as his handmaiden in 
speeding souls to his realm.

    "My lord," she said, and she knelt before him and bowed deeply, 
touching her forehead to the floor.  "My lord, I beg of you.  Please do 
not take this young man."

    Emma-O raised his eyebrows.  "My dear lady, why ever not?  Surely 
you know as well as I that mortals cannot defy the gods without 
consequence."

    "That is true, my lord," Yuki-onna replied, "but please."  She 
looked up and Emma-O could see tears of ice slipping down her cheeks.  
"His death was my fault; the direct result of my collaboration with a 
terrible demon.  I interfered in mortal affairs where I had no right or 
jurisdiction, and led that demon to him to satisfy a personal and 
ultimately petty desire for vengeance.  Without my interference, this 
boy never would have died in the first place."

    Emma-O straightened, and looked down at the boy again.  "I see," he 
said, frowning thoughtfully.  "However, that doesn't change the fact 
that he did die, and he deliberately defied my rules to return to the 
same mortal life he had lost.  He broke the rules, and justice must be 
served."

    Yuki-onna once again bowed her head to the floor.  "Then I beg of 
you, my lord.  Take my life in exchange for his."

    "What?" Emma-O said, startled.  "You, an immortal, wish to die?  You 
wish to throw your life away for the sake of an insignificant mortal?"

    "He is far from insignificant, my lord," Yuki-onna replied, and she 
looked up and regarded him soberly.  "This is why I am here.  I know 
that the demands of justice must be met, and so I offer you my life -- 
my immortal life -- in exchange for his defiance of death."

    Well, this was not going at all the way Emma-O had imagined.  He 
thought this would be a quick jaunt to the mortal realm, snag a soul, 
done and done, mess finally taken care of.  This...

    This beautiful woman, pleading so poignantly for justice to be met 
upon herself instead of the boy.  Emma-O found his frown softening 
slightly as her icy tears continued to fall.

    "Well," he said gruffly.  "It's unconventional.  But," he continued 
as a crestfallen look spread across her face, "I suppose I could do as 
you ask.  *If* this is what you truly desire."

    The look of devastation was replaced with wild hope.  "It is, my 
lord.  This is what I desire.  Take my life and spare the boy."

    Emma-O sighed.  "I do this for your sake, and for the sake of the 
ages of service you have faithfully rendered.  Yuki-onna, rise and take 
my hand."

    Incredulously, the Snow Woman stood, reached out and took his hand.

    "Take one last look at this one for whom you sacrifice your life and 
tell me that this is what you want."

    Yuki-onna looked down at Ranma and Akane.  They slept peacefully, 
and even in their sleep, they looked happy.   

    She looked at Akane.  *For you, my dear one.*

    She lifted her gaze and looked at Emma-O.  "I desire nothing more 
than this.  I am ready."

    Emma-O looked at her, and deep black eyes seemed almost sad.  "Then, 
my dear lady, I take your life for his."   

    Yuki-onna gasped as there was a sudden, wrenching pull....

-----------------------

    ...and she found herself under water, curled up, her arms wrapped 
around her knees, long dark hair floating around her.  Instinctively she 
stretched out.  Her feet touched ground and she stood, breaking through 
the surface of the water.

    She was in a vast river.  Confused, and a little afraid, she looked 
around, but couldn't see very much because of a mist that hovered just 
over the surface of the water, obscuring her vision.

    She shivered.  All those ages of acting as death's handmaiden, and 
she never really knew what happened to souls that had been freed from 
their mortal coil.  What was to become of her now?

    Whatever it was, she decided, she would face it.  Accept it, no 
matter how hard or harsh her punishment might be.

    The current caught her, tugged at her, and she found herself being 
pulled down stream.

    After what seemed like ages, she finally caught a glimpse of 
something through the mist.  The grassy bank of the river came into 
view, and she found herself being pulled toward it.  Gratefully, she 
climbed out of the river, and, for the first time, she had a chance to 
get her bearings. 

    Looking down at herself, she saw that she was dressed in a simple 
cotton kimono.  Her hair, she realized, was black rather than shimmering 
white.  The color it had been during the all-too-brief time when she had 
been mortal.

    Well, she mused.  She was truly mortal in every sense of the word, now.

    *But where do I go from here?*

    The mists were thinning, and she could see trees.  Cherry trees in 
bloom.  And ahead, the warm light of day.  Blue sky.  She walked, 
hesitantly, carefully.  This... seemed pleasant enough.  Not at all what 
she was expecting.

    And then, as kept walking, she realized... she recognized these trees.

    She recognized this forest.  She was walking a familiar path.

    And there, up ahead, around the corner... she knew what would be 
there.  A small, comfortable home in a clearing...

    And there it was.  But not just the home.  There were people there, 
outside, a whole multitude it seemed, some sitting, some standing, all 
waiting.

    Waiting for her, it seemed, for two young ladies at the front of the 
crowd caught sight of her and gasped, and they rushed towards her with 
smiles and tears and open arms...

    ... and Yuki-onna stood in shock as they swept her into an embrace 
and heard them call her Mother.

    "Haru..." she whispered.  "Natsu."

    "Yes, yes, Mother," they answered, smiling.  "Come, come with us and 
meet your family."

    Yuki-onna stumbled forward in a daze, unable to comprehend it all.  
Grandchildren, her daughters said.  And great-grandchildren.  And 
great-great grandchildren.  They all came to her with smiles and welcomes.

    "You know, usually it's the ancestors who greet the descendants, not 
the other way around," said a teasing voice.

    Yuki-onna turned, and there was Shin. 

    He smiled at her.  "Yuki... beloved.  Welcome home."

    And it was only then, as she ran to his open arms that she realized 
she was crying, weeping tears of joy.

    The tears on her face were warm.

-----------------------


Though they go mad,
they shall be sane
Though they sink through
the sea, they shall rise again
Though lovers be lost,
love shall not
And death shall have no dominion.

     ~Dylan Thomas


-----------------------

End of Hearts of Ice
June 20, 2009