Disclaimer: I dont' own any of the series or characters mentioned below in any way, shape or form.
Author's Note: This has been stuck in my head for a while, and is based 1) on the premise that Ryoga's curse makes him capable of traveling, physically as well as temporally, to where the Narrativium requires him to be, and 2) the question of "Where do Runners come from?", which I find was never satisfyingly answered in the series. These two things came together in my head, and I have been mulling it over for some time, before I wrote down this version, which I hope you like. It appealed to me (as a historian) to see how such a story might be told as a fairy tale a long time after, with perhaps reasonable doubts expressed by a certain scientist about the tale's veracity.
Tale of the First Runner
Pegasus Galaxy, Planet R4N-M4
The great hall of the village is crowded, with chattering people feasting around the sturdy tables, while rambunctious children play between the chairs or in front of the large fire place at the center of the hall. When suddenly a bell rings through the hall, slowly quietening the chatter of lively conversations as an older bearded man takes his place in front of the central fire. It is time for the storyteller to engage in his craft. Even the four strangers in the corner are roused from their quiet meal as his voice begins this evening's story:
„As my old mentor, would always say at the beginning of every story: Stay a while and listen. I will tell you a tale of tales, known across the Shrouded Stars, for it is from the stars that it came: The Tale of the First Runner. You may have heard it before, in one of its thousand iterations, but this is how it was told by the great chronciler Horon the Clear-Sighted hundreds of generations ago. It is one of the greatest legends known to any of the elders and even the most learned wandering storyteller will be able to recount the time their master first taught it to them, because in its verses it is holds the essence of the First Runner. It is more than a story, it is the history of humanity, our struggle against the dread Wraith and the knowledge that even monsters have something to fear. Now, I will not bore you with the First Runner's many names nor his famous deeds such as the Breaking of the Mountain or the Roar of the Maned Beast, for these are all well known. Instead I will tell you about his beginning, the first time he appeared amongst us humans, of the Battle of the Ring and when showed us the Way of the Runner."
"It began long ago, when a stranger, and we shall call him that because it was before he revealed his true nature to us, appeared in a nameless village on a world as any other in the galaxy. His appearance in itself was not strange, the village was close to the Ring of the Ancestors, travelers and traders were common. If the new arrival's garments were outlandish or his tongue unfamiliar, it was nothing exceptional. And so, the Stranger was given a seat at the table and a place of rest for the night, while the villagers returned to their work. For as you know, there is always work to do, the repair of roofs, the mending of clothes or the preparation of food. Yet it was this peaceful labour that would be interrupted soon, for the Great Enemy approached!"
"It was the morning after the arrival of the Stranger that the Wraith struck the village in their insatiable hunger, to drag their bounty of men and women to their painful end in their fearsome star vessels. It was not a time of Culling, when all men hide and pray to the Stars to preserve them, but one of their endless raiding parties in the time in between. As always, the first sound the villagers heard was their screaming metal-birds, but even as the people rose to flee, the Wraith soldiers appeared out of the woods around the village and the slaughter began. The birds spat their bolts of fire, setting ablaze the houses, while the monsters on foot cut down everyone they saw: fleeing women carrying their wailing children, craftsmen and farmers, and even the few brave guards, who attempted to buy their families time to flee."
"It was into this chaos that the Stranger strode, unafraid of the fires or the enemy, appearing out of the smoke like a spectre. At the central square he stood, seeing innocents cut down and he said unto the Wraith, I am a stranger from far away and these are not my people. But I am bound to the warrior's path to protect those that cannot defend themselves and I shall not abide your predations! I am the Echo of Wrath, the Fang of Vengeance! Flee or be beholden to my wrath!"
"The dread foe only laughed. What significance had such boisterous declarations for them and their terrible weapons. They had raided a hundred human settlements across a hundred worlds and although on occasion a warrior had stood against them, none had lived. And so, one of their metal birds struck down to destroy the impudent human. Yet the Stranger simply remained in his place, as if the approaching death meant nothing to him, and slowly raised his arm. You are wondering, what can a man do with a raised arm against the dread Wraith and their vile machines, children? A man can do little. The First Runner, he is more than a man, he is an embodiment of the Shrouded Stars, their stolid messenger, their wrath made manifest. When the metal bird neared, he let out a deep roar and from his arm shot his wrath, in a blinding light shaped like the maw of a predator. It was as if a spectral beast soared into the sky, striking at his foes, and in one giant explosion the metal bird was vanquished!"
"Oh, the surprise! It is said men and monster were both stunned into awed silence by the destruction that all fighting stopped. None had ever seen a feat such as the Stranger had performed with a mere flick of his wrist! What was he, an ancestor returned? Now we know he is so much more, but then it was unlike anything ever seen beneath light of the Shrouded Stars."
"But it must be said for all their evil, the Wraith do not admit defeated easily and as one the dread soldiers turned on the Stranger. It was of no use. Their weapons might as well have been the wind for none were able to touch him and if they did, he ignored them as a mountain ignores the breeze. His wrath was as strong and manifested in many strange ways, more wrath-light shooting from his hands but even the earth itself rising up to kill the foe. But he was most terrible with his Iron Hands, which crushed armour and Wraith alike, nothing able to stand in his way. And so, the battle raged, the Stranger's wrath merciless as the cold void between the stars, destroying Wraith and their machines wherever he met them, and at last they fled. The cowards running to the Ring of the Ancestors, hounded by the Stranger, who let but a handful escape. It was in the shimmering water of the Ring that the last Wraith turned and swore terrible vengeance but the Stranger only crossed his arms and declared he would accept their challenge and await them again at this spot."
"It was a victory against the terrible Wraith yet we all know what comes of defiance against them. Retribution unimaginable. The villagers then knew it as well then as we do now and they fled to their caves of hiding, imploring the Stranger to join them. For despite his formidable skills and powers, they knew none could stand against the might of a Hive. Not even the great Ancestors had done so in ancient times! But the Stranger refused. He said he would not run, it was not his way. Instead, he would fight off the Wraith as he would not countenance another dying if he could prevent it. Shamed by his courage some brave souls swore to stand with him, but he refused these valiants. It was his challenge, and his alone. Instead he tasked them with guarding the other villagers if he fell, as they had given him hearth and shelter."
"And so, he stood alone at the Ring of the Ancestors awaiting the return of the Wraith. Truly alone you ask? Of course not! For our people are as brave as any. It was Rian, the daughter of the village headman, who had hosted the Stranger, courageous as any warrior, who observed the coming battle hidden in the distant hills, knowing that someone must bear witness to the battle in case the Stranger fell. And it is from her that we know how the Battle of the Ring and while many would later gainsay her account, its aftermath was witnessed by thousands in the years after and everyone agreed that it could not have been different from her tale."
"The battle began when the sun was high across the sky and the first Wraith appeared through the Ring of the Ancestors only to be struck down by the Stranger, a fate shared by all that followed. Not even the mightiest Wraith could stand against him, for he was as strong as ten men. It was only the hundredth warrior, a warrior of great renown amongst the Wraith, who was able to catch the Stranger in his terrible stranglehold. But as the fiend attempted to drain the life from him and end him forever, the Stranger's greatest ability was revealed, the Soul of Iron! It was as if the Wraith attempted to drain iron. But iron is unyielding and strong. No flesh can beat it, not even Wraith. And so, he too fell before the Stranger, unable to comprehend that this was no mere mortal foe. After this hundredth Wraith had fallen, the rest fled, terrified of his incontestable skill but even more of their inability to eat his soul."
"As they returned to their hive, they knew, they could not let him live, his challenge, his strength, his mere presence was too much of a threat to them and their way. And so, where flesh had failed, they sent their dread machines, a swarm of metal birds descending from the sky to destroy the Stranger. But it was not to be. He drew upon his wrath, recalling the slaughter of innocents, the people still to be protected and his ire burned brighter than ever. It shot from his hands like sparks from a fire to swipe them from the skies, like a child might squash an irritating glow-kaever. After the hundredth metal bird had crashed, the Wraith again withdrew, terrified now beyond anything they had ever felt. For what foe could best their strongest warriors, their most terrifying machines? However, it is not the way of the Wraith to understand the soul of the First Runner, and neither do they accept that there are those more powerful than them."
"Therefore, the dire queen of the Wraith decided to put an end to this defiance once and for all and with her Hive ship she descended onto the planet to show this human the true power of the Wraith. Any man would tremble in fright before such a sight, but not the Stranger. He too saw the power of the ship, but he was not afraid…he was angry. For despite his prowess he was not able to defend the humans. Not warrior, nor machine, not numbers, nor leviathan can stay my wrath!, he roared his defiance across the sky, Foes of mankind, prepare to die. And as his anger grew, his body began to glow, the light of the stars itself gathering around him, the earlier displays of wrath but a shadow of his true strength! When the Hive hovered above his head, preparing to unleash its terrifying weapons, he finally released his true fury. A pillar of light rose from the earth to the heavens, it was as if a column of bright fire had appeared on the planet, brilliant and bright beyond all measure, piercing through the Hive as an iron arrow through flimsy cloth. Nothing could stand in its path and one after the other explosions blossomed all over the Hive, until at last its charred and broken remains fell to the earth, the dread foe finally defeated. And so, the Wraith were vanquished, for no evil can stand before the First Runner and remain."
"…"
"And is this all, you ask? No, it was merely the beginning of a tale that reaches to this day. For the tale of the appearance of the Stranger spread quickly, like a raging fire in a forest it reached across the stars, carried from mouth to mouth, Ring to Ring, world to world. To the humans it was a message of hope, to the Wraith a reminder that even they cannot face the vast galaxy without fear."
"And the Stranger, he disappeared soon after the Battle of the Ring. Although the villagers beseeched him to stay, he was unable to remain and he told them of his curse, his duty, his wyrd to always wander, never to settle down, not ever to stay at hearth and home. It is his fate and burden and none can share it. But he would not leave the village undefended, he swore to draw the Wraith away and so he challenged them You have seen my wrath and you shall face it again. I challenge you to find me, if you dare! And so he ran, from star to star, ring to ring, world to world, never to stop, always hunted by the Wraith, who could not let his defiance or his challenge go unanswered. Thus, the First Runner claimed his name."
"But how do we know this all took place? Well, you remembered brave Rian, do you not? It was she, who went to the Stranger after the battle and while victorious, it had taken all his might. She nursed him back to health and as is now, they shared their nights, for she was as beautiful as she was courageous. Even though his path took him from her soon, he left with her a far more precious gift, a child to bear his legacy. While he set out amongst the stars and began the Endless Run, forever hunted by the Wraith and yet unable to ever be caught, his legacy would spread across the stars."
"This is where the First Runner came from in times long gone. His task to endlessly wander the stars and bring to humans hope in their darkest hour. He has appeared amongst the Shrouded Stars time and again, defending settlements, planets and even lone travelers from beasts and Wraith alike. The fiends are afraid of him and yet yearn in excitement for word of his appearance. He is their greatest foe, who has defeated innumerable of their ilk, but also their greatest mark, for whichever Wraith should ever catch and best him would be rewarded beyond measure and his name a legend forever."
"But he has turned around the Run and hunts them as much as they hunt him, and always shall do so. For he is the embodiment of humanity's stubborn will, its immortal spirit chosen by the stars themselves to appear to us. How else can he return to us for hundreds of generations, unchanging and strong. So, you do well to recognize him, for one day he may appear in your hour of need. And you shall know him by his garments of yellow and black, from head to toe. His mien fierce in battle but gentle when amongst friends or resting at your hearth, only his deep endless dark eyes reflecting his troubled destiny. At his side, he always carries the Red Shield, able to withstand all manner of weapons, and his Sword of Cloth, able to cut through the toughest metal as if it was grass, and his Bag of Many Things, from which he can draw a thousand different gifts, from a simple cooking pot to the most delicious Lamen Broth. And if you are especially lucky, you might see the Hipiki, his legendary beast aspect, although some fools say it is only his companion. Do not let the stories fool you, it is wonderous to behold when he transforms from human to the beast, its giant shoulders as tall as two grown man, massive as a small house, bristling with black fur and with mighty tusks long as an arm, able to rip apart any Wraith. By these signs you will know him, now and forever."
"But what of his legacy among us? Is it still here? Of course! It is easy to see, for where do you think the Runners come from? They are his descendants throughout the ages, and although they do not hold his wyrd, they hold his legacy. It is a terrible legacy to be true, for when they are found, the Wraith who cannot feed upon them, as they could not feed upon him. And so, they perfidiously hunt them to take revenge for the First Runners eternal defiance. Although the First Runner on occasion appears to help them, they are as often left on their own. It is a sacrifice they must bear, all we can and are obliged to do to honour their sacrifice, is to give them food and shelter for a night, for that it was the First Runner received then and we can do no less now. And if they are true sons of the First Runner, they will remain this one night and then run on, to draw the Wraith away. But it is not without hope, for it is said that the greatest of them have followed the First Runner and turned around the Run, making hunted out of the hunters and shown the Wraith that we humans are far more dangerous than they will ever know. So, take heart children, and remember the Tale of the First Runner: we are not alone and we are not helpless. When all may seem bleak, look at the Shrouded Stars and recall that amongst the endless sea of stars, there are those who fight for humanity and will one day defeat out great foe."
A short while later, outside the great hall on the way to the Ring of the Ancestors:
"Gimme a break. Shooting his wrath from his fingers!? Destroying a hive with a pillar of flame!? Are you kidding me!?"
"Shut up, Rodney. Remember the last time you mouthed off about local traditions? They nearly set us on fire. Think of it like a story, the Odyssey or Lord of the Rings."
"I must disagree, Major Shepard. It is a tale of truth. I have heard it many times before across many worlds. All have heard of the First Runner, all have stories of his prowess. It is truth."
"Well…it's a nice story, but I must say that I am a bit skeptical. I don't want to offend your beliefs, Teyla. It just seems a bit far-fetched."
"I gotta agree with the Major, Teyla."
"Perhaps you will have the opportunity to change your opinion in the future, Aidan Ford. But at the moment, let us, what is it you say on your world… ahh, yes -agree to disagree."
"…"
"Quiet, McKay."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to. Just this once, for all that is holy, keep your mouth shut until we leave this planet. Then you can complain to your hearts content."