The Prophets' Vision
A Ronin Warriors Fanfiction
By Jou-chan
Disclaimers: I don't own Ronin Warriors, or any of the Ronin characters, or the armor, or Sage's hair. But the plot line is my original idea, and many of the characters added are my original characters. So I guess anything you didn't see in the television show is mine.
Author's Notes: This is going to be a really long story. I'm warning you up front. There will be many chapters. I repeat; there will be many chapters. But I really appreciate feedback, so please review. Press a button. Save an author.
The Prophets' Vision: Prologue
He could feel it in his bones. That feeling, that ominous feeling, that something was about to happen. That life was about to take a turn for the worse. But not just for him, for all of them.
It was so strong, in fact, that it drew him out of bed. He had no idea what time it was, only that it was very, very late. Or early, whichever you prefer. But one thing was certain: it was no time to be up and about, and yet he found himself doing so.
He managed to slip into a pair of jeans he left lying haphazardly on a chair by his bed, then slipped out his bedroom door and started down the stairs. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he paused near the last step as he noticed he wasn't the only one up.
The blonde before him gave him that look that read something was clearly wrong, as he frowned, pacing up and down the room. On the couch near him, the bearer of Torrent sat rigidly, his hands folded together rather nervously, as if he were waiting for something.
"So you feel it, too?" Ryo asked, after a moment's hesitation.
Cye looked up at him, a slightly worried expression on his face. "How could we not? It's… incredible… not even against Tulpa did I feel anything like this."
Sage was still quiet, still pacing, his eyebrows knit in concentration.
Ryo was about to ask him something, but the sound of someone descending down the stairs caught his attention. Both Rowen and Kento had risen from their beds, both of them sporting the same wary look, both of them feeling the same thing that had gotten all five of them out of bed.
"I don't like this at all." Kento hissed quietly.
"What could it possibly be?" Rowen asked, to no one in particular, as his analytical mind going over all the recent events, news reports, anything that might lend him a clue in figuring out this mystery that bothered them enough to wake them all up in the still of the night.
Sage stopped then, finally looking up at them with his piercing gaze. "Whatever it is, it has to do with the armors." He went to the closet then, and began pulling out their jackets, his face set in stone. "I think perhaps we should all go for a little stroll."
Ryo nodded, and quickly reached for his own jacket, as did the others. Silently, single file, they all walked out the door. The night air was cool and crisp, but at the moment, none of them seemed to notice as they set their attention on more pressing matters. Wordlessly, they all climbed into the jeep, and were soon on their way into town, Sage driving them.
Sage was not one to rush to a conclusion, Ryo knew. And he had to admit he felt it himself; whatever was happening, whatever it might be, it was calling on his armor. On the power of Wildfire, and all the other armors. It was almost drawing them in, in a sense. Except, as they neared the town, the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach only got worse, and he gripped the bottom of his seat a little too hard.
They all saw the light at the same time. It was above them, in the sky, slowing circling downwards. It almost seemed as though two kinds of light emanated from it, intertwining themselves together into one great big ball of glowing light.
Ryo didn't really remember climbing out of the jeep. But somewhere along the line, he did, along with the rest of the Ronins, to look at this strange phenomenon in the sky. As he did, however, a soft, alien chant filled his ears, reverberating to his very core. He found that he couldn't tear his eyes away as the glowing orb finally touched down, a fair distance in front of him. But as the glowing died, the chanting became louder.
And they all saw at the same time the source of the chant: two figures, standing straight, with their arms to the sky. And as they stood, entranced by the chanting, and the soft light that seemed to shimmer around them, they slowly began to understand the words.
"A fall from grace, to another place, in times different, shall it crash and become as one. One of light and one of dark, one rising from victory and one thirsting for freedom. As one it becomes, the worlds will merge, and darkness shall fall. And so it is seen, so it shall be."
There was a sudden burst of light, and each Ronin shielded his eyes out of reflex. The light was immediately followed by a loud, ripping sounds, and a sudden chill washed over them. When Ryo uncovered his eyes, squinting slightly, the sight took him by surprise. The world, it seemed, had turned upside down. The city of Toyama was still there, but it was joined by another scene, a bloody, barren land. The two wavered back and forth, the sounds fluctuating accordingly. Never had he seen anything like it, not even in his wildest dreams.
And that's when the things appeared; big, rusty colored beings, oozing with slime. Bodies covered in scales, large ridges where their spines aught to be, and a face so incredibly and heinously warped. Hideous was too nice of a thing to say. They were putrid. Ryo felt in his heart that they were the epitome of everything bad in the world. He didn't have to tell the others to don their armors; they could feel it too.
The battle began. The ugly brutes were inhumanly strong, but atrociously stupid, and the fact grew more conspicuous as the fight wore on. But when the last one fell, Ryo wiped his brow and looked back to the rip in dimensions. Something else was coming, something much more powerful. He could feel the other Ronins' tension, their anxiety, as they waited, without a single noise being made. In fact, the other thing Ryo could hear was the beat of his own heart, and the quickness of his breath.
And suddenly more figures stepped out of the rift. Three of them, all wearing strange, monk like clothes, and holding a staff in their hands. Slowly, the staffs began to glow, each one a different color, and Ryo felt overwhelmed with the power they gave off. He could feel the kanji on his forehead burning fiercely, the heat of his armor as he began to gather his energy. He knew, in the very depths of his being, that all would be lost if they failed to win this battle.
And so it began. And as the war raged on between the two forces, the two beings watched on, with faces set in stone. One glowing a warm, red color that filled a soul with love and joy, and the will to go on, while the other glowed a darker, colder color that left one feeling hopeless and frightened, depleted of all its natural life force. As they stood, watching and waiting for the outcome, they continued their chant. It was soft and melodious now, and vibrated so that one could not only hear it but also feel it, coursing through their veins and swimming in their head. It was a strange, urethral tune, and the voices of the two weaved together so intricately that it sounded as if there were more singing than just the two of them.
In time, long after the war ended and its history was recorded, the two became known as the Prophets. One of the Sun, and one of the Moon. One of good, and one of evil.
It seemed to Ryo that the battle was lasting days... weeks, even. Whenever he thought the outcome was certain, that one side would emerge victorious and the other would fail, the tides seemed to change and the war would rage on, each side taking and giving their share of hits.
But suddenly, something was happening. The sky was darkening rapidly, while lightening flashed and the thunder roared above them, sending shivers down their spines. The wind grew strong and fierce, whipping at their skin so harshly that it stung at impact. And then, as the sky could get no blacker, a flash of brilliant light took place, and the sky changed once again, shimmering and wavering, as if uncertain of it's true form.
The Ronins stood, watching and waiting, while above them the two figures of the Prophets floated, the same unnatural glow to them. Wind spiraled around them, straight up into the sky like a column, flashing with unearthly light. The air became very hot, and sparks began to appear, snapping out in all directions around the two bodies.
The last of the three mages looked on, battered and torn from the battle, his breath coming in short, rattled gasps. But somehow, he found the last of his strength, and slowly lifted his arms to the sky. He began to chant again, in that same, alien tongue, but not a word passed by the Ronins.
"I call upon the Outerworld…outerspirits surround, envelope and devour, until the Earth is once again raw for the shaping. Nightborn creatures circle the sky, Darkair demons travel soundlessly, Serpents of the rivers and seas come forth! I call upon your power, the power of the universe, converge these two worlds into one and bring success to the Outerworld!!"
Upon his last words the sky began to thunder loudly, and a great bolt of lightening struck down on him, its electric energy running through the mage's body like pure adrenaline. For a moment his very physical existence wavered, his eyes glowing an eerie green as his skin became transparent and his skeleton shown through. Then there was a sudden burst of light again, as though it emitted from his very core. Wispy, glowing tendrils slowly began to stretch forth from his body, far out across the earth and sky.
And then without warning the light disappeared, and the wind and lightening stopped. The silence was deafening, and the very blackness that covered the area was tangible. But the eerie quiet was soon replaced by a slow, deliberate rumbling beneath the Ronins' feet; it felt as though the very land they stood on was breaking up into thousands of tiny pieces.
The last thing any of them heard was a long, blood-curdling scream.
To be continued…