Disclaimer: No, I do not own Chikane and Himeko. Wish I did though…

Summary: My nonetheless weird mind thought of a twisted way why Chikane and Himeko were chosen the priestesses.

A/N: Please go easy on me on this one. It's kind of my first time. Haha! Anyway, please read and review! I do hope you enjoy this. Oh, and by the way, this is going to be quite a long story, separated in short chapters. I do apologize but I have to write at my own pace, bear with me. Pretty please?

Chapter 1: Death

I still distinctly remember the first time I saw her…

It was hot outside. I was in the middle of the plaza, my ankle, wrists and neck chained to a thick piece of wood beside the horses. The hot sun beat mercilessly above, baking sand scorched my feet, and the smell of raw meat, foul fishes, camels, horses, the dead, the decaying, and the rotting lingered around me. People pushed and shoved. Most were drunk, some, though sober, acted no better, and the rest were just indifferent…or else they just had something better to do than notice that they were in the middle of a crowd.

This plaza, unlike most plazas, had no stalls. People walked around screaming their merchandise. It was constantly moving. Like an endless tide of people, walking around such a small space. Only my company stayed where we were. And that was only because our trade was the only one allowed to have a space, not a stall, of its own.

I was a slave. There were originally ten of us chained to that thick piece of wood. Before lunch came, all but me was sold. I couldn't blame them. Who would want me for a slave: thin, pale, too frail? The scorching sun seemed to have no effect for me. I was still as pale as the day my mother sold me to slavery.

I was nine when my mother sold me. We were dying of hunger then. She didn't have anything else to sell to feed me and my brothers. So she thought of selling me. She told me I will have food to eat and money to send home just as long as I am obedient. And you will find that I am unquestioningly obedient, almost to a fault, really. So then I thought it was a good idea. Well, she was right about one thing: I did have food to eat, if you could call the grub I eat every night since I was nine years old food.

Since my mother sold me, I've been on three households already, and they all gave up on me. It was too expensive to keep a sickly slave. And they were right. And so, to date, I have been sold four times already. Every time I was sold, it was harder and harder to find another buyer.

I was faint during that scorching afternoon that I met her. I haven't eaten for days, barely had any clothes, and I could swear the chains that were holding me were heavier than I am. I wanted to die then and there, but then I thought of home. I knew they were all waiting for me, or at least the money that I would send home.

I could barely see anything. My head was already swimming in a pool of hazy nothingness and I could feel that my knees were about to give in anytime. Cold sweat started running down my back. I was shivering in spite of the heat. I knew right then and there that I was dying…

And then, it happened… she happened.

It was a short whisper, almost as if the wind itself was whispering something in my ears…

Don't die yet… you can't die… You still have to save me.

It was crystal clear, yet almost too soft. In spite of my slight shaking, I willed my head around to try and find where the voice was coming from. I was thoroughly convinced though that it was just my imagination.

A wave of nausea hit me and I felt faint again. It was too much of an effort to keep myself from falling on my knees…

Just a little more… I'm coming.

I couldn't understand why I was hearing that voice in my head. But somehow, I sensed the desperation in those whispers. I couldn't understand why I even believed that voice. It was just a voice.

Look to your right….

Involuntarily, I looked to my right. There was nothing there save for more people walking around, all in a magnificent disarray.

Do you see me?

This time, it was almost as if someone was screaming in my head. I couldn't deny the fact that someone indeed was saying something to me.

Suddenly, my heart started beating faster- so fast I could hear it…then I realized the heavy beating wasn't my heart at all…although my heart really was beating in the same cadence. It was a group of soldiers on horses.

Everyone cleared out to make way for the hurried soldiers. Being tied to the thick post, I really didn't have much choice. The soldiers rushed passed…and then something extraordinary happened. Time suddenly slowed to grinding halt as she passed by. Her cloak was suddenly pushed back by the wind that rushed through her. Something inside me was shattered. I didn't know why.

Her long silver mane flowed freely in the wind, her ice blue eyes looking steadily ahead. And then, for a split second, she did the unforgettable: she looked my way! For that shortest moment when our eyes met, I felt an icy chill run up and down my spine. For the briefest moment, the chains were warmer than anything I have ever known.

Save me!

It wasn't a hurried voice. It was too soft. But you can feel the need, the desperation. And then, as if out of nowhere, darkness took over me. I felt my knees buckle, a different kind of chill run down my spine. And then I was unconscious… but not before I heard the voice for the last time:

I'll see you soon…

Darkness.

*

When I was young, I thought dying was like an escape. I had envisioned death as a journey to a better place. That's what my mother said when my father died. She said he was in a far better place: a place devoid of hardships, of hunger, of grief. It was easier to accept then our loss. It was far easier to think that, finally, after a lifetime of toil, blood, sweat, and tears, among other things, he was finally at peace.

My father… He was a slave as I was. Unlike me though, he served faithfully and loyally only one family. Not that I was unfaithful and disloyal of course. I just served other families. Mother said he was born into his master's household and served them from the beginning to the end of his life. My father spoke of his masters so highly, with reverence and deep respect. However it did not escape my attention the new wounds and scars he had every time he goes home to us. He said it was their way of disciplining him. I thought it was absurd and when I voiced it out, my father's eyes went wild with fury. He said I should never speak ill of his masters for they feed us. "Barely…" I muttered then, and I was lucky he was in so much pain during that night that he did not hear my comments.

After that night, we were not allowed to even speak about father's masters. Three days later, father died. We never saw his body. Only mother was allowed to see father's corpse. She said father died a slave's death. We really didn't understand what she meant by that. I only remember the horror being suppressed in her eyes. For weeks after that, mother always had nightmares. It kept us up for most nights, until we got used to her screaming and frantic sobbing.

And so death… well. Death was loss for us and freedom for the dead. And I thought, as I died, why then do I still feel my chains? They were still very heavy and co-

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling anything. Suddenly, everything turned white. And then black. I saw flashes of pain. Yes, you read it right. I saw pain. I didn't feel it. I saw it whip straight through me, past me. Oddly enough, I couldn't feel it. It was just continually streaking past me. It even sounded like the cracking of a whip. Huh. I never really knew pain was something that can be seen and heard. I guess dying changes our perception of things.

So this is dying, I wondered. Not bad.

It just pained me to think that the last day of my life was also the day I would meet the most beautiful person alive.

But then… if I was dying… why is my heart beating strongly? Stronger than it ever did beat…

**

Her grip on the reigns tightened as she felt the continuous barrage of pain lashing at her back. It felt like someone was whipping her! She gritted her teeth. If it was as she thought then she had to turn around. But she needed a reason. She had to have a reason. Why should she go back?

Another flash of pain. The pain was beginning to annoy her.

Damn it all! At this rate, she's going to die.

She pulled on her reigns, casing her horse to make a quick turnaround. She heard a voice behind her shouting. "Where are you going?"

She ignored the questioning looks as she rushed past and against the soldiers.

Her horse skidded to a stop before a tall, lanky man holding a long whip in his right hand. He was, in a word, disgusting. Long, greasy, black hair fell in disarray to his narrow back. Two scars nailed his right eye shut and his nose looked like it had been broken for ages. He grinned, showing sickening yellow teeth. He peered at the girl on top of the horse.

By then, her cloak covered half her face again.

"I will buy your slave." She said flatly.

"Too late, master. All my slaves have been sold." He answered with a grin.

Sickening.

"Then why is that one over there chained like a slave?" She asked, motioning to the lifeless body beside the seller.

"Well, that one was a slave."

"You wouldn't mind, then, if I take the body? I need a toy" she said the last part with as much malice as she could muster.

His grin widened at her last sentence.

Sick bastard, she thought.

"By all means, master. Do as you please." He answered, eyeing her with sudden delight.

He hurriedly unlocked the chains that were holding the lifeless body beside him. He was about to carry the body to the back of the horse when she spoke up.

"Do not defile her anymore than you already have. I will carry her." She said, her voice suddenly cold and hard. It made the man flinch.

She got down from her horse and carried the body. Effortlessly and with so much ease that the man whose presence she suddenly forgot looked at her in disbelief, she mounted her horse, still carrying the lifeless body close to her.

She threw a silver coin to the ground and without so much as another glance, she raced away, holding tightly the most precious jewel in the world.