The wind whistled in his ears as he took in the new world before him.
Zoey was dead.
Dead.
What a strange word. It defines a natural process of life, what lives can die and what dies can live.
All creatures died, from the lowliest mouse to the highest of Kings.
Except for him.
The one thing he yearned for more than anything, was the one thing beyond his reach. The stars sparkled mockingly down on him. Their light a cold comfort in his long, too long, life. He'd been born so long ago, the pain of loving and losing a distant future that he did not yet comprehend. As he'd aged he'd noticed that his peers quickly outgrew him, a child that he still called his friend an adult before he reached the height of a 5 year old. Outcast. Monster. Devil-child, they'd called him.
But magic, magic came to him as easy as breathing, it's soothing, exhilarating power coursing through his veins, a river streaming up into the depths of his soul. By the time of his 40th name day he was a teenager, body still the same lithe, agile form of a 14 year old.
By the time he hit 75 he stopped aging. His body forever stuck in the same form, 24 years old for an eternity.
Some longed for immortality, sacrificed countless lives to attain but a sliver of what he had been born with, yet it was all for naught. All they achieved was the gods themselves casting them down from their thrones of bones.
He'd distanced himself from the rest. Left their settlements and made his own home. A small castle, situated in a field of volcanoes, shielded from the rest of the world. BlackRock Castle. He'd sought solitude, not wishing to become close only to have them ripped away by the passage of time. Yet… one day as he ventured out to gain supplies, he'd come across her. A strange girl who claimed to be able to talk to mushrooms, who had an inane grasp of magic and technology. Zoey was her name. Strange though she was, she wormed her way inside his cold heart and he'd come to care for her.
But she'd been killed. One of the many who sought immortality had come after him, wanting to know the secret, how one could live forever, had they not known that such a fate was a curse?
He'd been captured, held prisoner in a forcefield he'd been unable to break alone. Zoey had come for him. Even though he had told her to leave, to never come back. She'd come back for him. A mistake on her part.
Breaking the forcefield had angered the man who'd come for his knowledge. He'd struck her down, a single blow yet it reverberated in his mind like a jackhammer.
He thought he'd grown used to the pain of losing those he cared for, but as green eyes dimmed, the life leeching away he'd wept. He'd held her as she passed, gently rocking and begging, pleading for her to stay, promising her countless, impossible, things if she would just stay. Stay with him. Stay in their small castle, with their strange bits and bobs. Anything. Anything if she would just stay.
She'd smiled up at him, blood staining her lips red, the same red as her hair, and had weakly lifted her hand to his face.
"Oh, Rythian… I'm sorry. Really, I am… but I can't… you know that, don't you?" He'd clasped her hand and channeled his magic, he'd never tried healing before, had never had the need for it. But it was all for naught. She'd passed her last words a farewell and a question. "If we meet again… in our next lives… can we… be friends…?" How could he refuse?
He'd promised her, as the cycle went on he'd find her, again and again no matter how long it took, no matter how many times her death shattered his shriveled heart, he'd find her. He'd find her and he'd be her friend. No matter what.
Which was what led him to this situation. He looked down at the man below him, white hair spread out around his face like a halo, face guard displaying the Senju crest boldly with blood quickly staining the ground.
Red, Zoey had never had red eyes before, eyes opened weakly, a silent challenge in them. So like her, ready to fight the world no matter what state she was in. Bending he hoisted the man onto his back, frowning as his clothes became sticky with blood.
"Who…?" His voice was deep, slurred with blood loss.
"It's no matter, I'll take care of you."
He carefully channeled his magic into the man on his back, coaxing the cells to regrow, to cover the wounds and carefully push out debris. A low groan from behind let him know it was working.
"Hush now, I know it hurts, but it's for your own good." Just as he'd thought he'd received no reply only a huff of air on the back of his neck. When the body on his back became limp, the innate magic most had fell into a simple rhythm he allowed himself a sigh of relief.
Too close. Far too close. He'd almost lost her again, if he'd arrived just a little later then… she would be gone. Resolving to keep an eye on the latest incarnation of his friend he settled himself down in his makeshift home, keeping watch over the body of his dearest friend.
When the man beside him woke, he'd made no sound. But the telltale spike of his magic told him everything but he resolved to let him play possum. When 15 minutes came and went with no outwards signs of consciousness he spoke.
"There's no point pretending to be asleep."
A red, and they truly were a beautiful colour weren't they? Eye cracked open, and the man tried to sit up, Rythian stood, gently pushed him back down, "Stay, your wounds were deep… don't reopen them after all the effort I put into closing them."
The man opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but coughs wracked his body instead, offering a glass of water to the man he wasn't surprised at the distrustful look given to him. These days no-one trusted anyone who wasn't in a clan. Children, the lot of them.
Rolling his eyes he took a sip of the water, "There, not poisoned. Now drink." Another look was leveled at him, but the man obligingly drank the water.
"Who are you?" The man's voice was hoarse with disuse, the water only barely preventing pain as he spoke.
"I am Rythian. I found you bleeding out on the road."
Leaning away from the injured man he glanced around for the pastes that would speed the healing and numb the pain. However, there were little lights, several flickers of magic coming towards them, scowling underneath his mask he stood, "Stay here. We have some guests."
Turning he stalked towards the door, a brief push of magic and the door was sealed. Nothing could go in, and nothing could come out.
Carefully directing the natural magic that saturated the area, he weaved a quick illusion over the makeshift hut. A burst of magic and it was set. Adopting a relaxed gait he strolled over towards the magic signatures. He knew they'd caught sight of him when their magic spiked in preparation for a fight.
Subtly he reached for the magic around them, "Hey there!" A man with long brown hair, tied out of his face with a headband, embroidered with the Senju crest, approached him first. A woman stood behind him, hair done up in elaborate buns, and another man stood behind him, blonde hair spiking up much like a porcupine. Glancing up at him, he noted the similarities of his magic with that of Zoey's latest incarnation. Relatives, brothers perhaps?
Realising he'd let the silence drag on for just a second too long, "Hello."
The man didn't falter, approaching him quickly, bright grin still in place, "Have you by chance seen any other Senju around?"
Sidestepping the man's hand he replied, "Yes. He was injured. I treated his wounds. I assume you were looking for him?" Turning he gestured for them to follow him. Casually meandering back towards the hut. The 3 behind him exchanged glances, hands on their weapons, before following him.
"If I didn't want you to find me, you wouldn't have, now come along."
With a snap of his fingers the illusion crumbled, revealing his accommodations.
"You never told me your name?" The male brunette smiled as he carefully fished for information, "Surely it is polite to introduce yourself first before asking the name of someone else?" Ah, it was good to know that his tongue was still as sharp as ever.
Another spike of magic and the door was revealed, opening slowly and revealing the white-haired man lying on the bed. A look of relief coated his feature upon seeing the brunette, "Brother." Ah, brothers, he was right.
"Tobirama!" The man launched himself towards his brother, almost bowling over Rythian in his rush. Watching the two carefully, a pain grew in his heart, his magic turning dark and bubbling beneath his skin as he remembered better days.
He could bear the sight no longer. "Enough. You'll reopen his wounds." Striding over to the shelf he grabbed the paste that would speed healing. "I assume you will be leaving? Take these. They speed healing and will numb the pain of your wounds. Apply them only when needed." Pressing the jar into the brunette's hands he whirled towards the white haired man, Tobirama if he remembered correctly. "And you. If you reopen your wounds, I will not seal them up again." The distrust in those eyes, so similar yet so different pierced his heart like a blade.
The brunette threw his arms around Rythian, "You saved my brother? Thank you! Thank you so much!" Uncomfortable with this show of affection, he tried to pry the man's hands off him, "You are quite welcome."
Just an Idea I jot down in English class, I rewatched the BlackRock Chronicles just a while ago and this sprung into my mind so...
Anyways I don't own Naruto or any of the Yogscast, they belong to their respective owners.
As always have a nice day~! - Sytry