Hello to everybody! Here is first chapter, completely revamped. Sorry to all who checked this story and found that it didn't update, and thank you for checking out anyway. I have outline both for revamped chapters and beyond, so I hope it won't take too long.

Just to mention, first chapter is from point of view of Spirit of Fire, so there may be slight hate towards Yoh and his friends. I love them ( especially Yoh), but it wouldn't really be logical for Spirit of Fire, as this follow anime ( though with heavy manga elements), starting with Yoh and Hao's fight.

Thank you, read and review.

Pain coursed through them. Blue blade was cold as winter wind, hard as diamond and sharp as scary itako's tongue. Oversoul, so powerful that it was completely solid, cut right through flesh and spirit. Spirit of Fire's form broke, freeing thousands of souls that coursed through his being. Flesh and bone broke, skin tore and quiet hissing followed blood that was pouring out of master's body. Soon, he would die, either from blood loss or organ failure or when he fell down , impact breaking him into pieces... No, he couldn't allow it. Not this time.

Flame and smoke surrounded master, following explosion. That was solution, last ace in hole. He may have lost all of his souls, but he would always have enough power for this.

What most shamans didn't understand was that he wasn't just some elemental spirit, albeit extremely powerful. He was the element, the fire and heat itself. All others were born, shaped from him. He was the flame born out of fuel and oxygen, molten rock that dwelled inside planets, scorching heat of desert, ray of Sun, warmth of flesh, the brimstone of Hell. His consciousness could travel between those pieces of himself, could carry shamans with it.

He needed safe place. Lonely place where they could hide without fear of being found, place where master could survive, where he could heal. Place where nobody heard of Hao Asakura. Which, given their reputation, was hefty criterion. Even if they were to hide in middle of desert, gamble on luck that there could be some water, there was always chance that somebody would find them. X-Laws or allies of master's idiot brother or Patch would be worst possible outcome ( and so, of course, most likely) but it could be anybody. Two of them did accumulate rather impressive body count, after all.

No, no place on Earth would be safe. So Spirit of Fire reached out, beyond Earth, beyond this solar system, beyond Milky Way, gazing on planets through stars and magma, tasting atmosphere, searching for water, avoiding wild beasts. Thirty two galaxies away, he found it. Small planet, size of the moon. No satellites, only one star to orbit around, decent amount of water. Green plants, only inhabitants of planet alongside microbes.

In second, two of them shifted, hidden by smoke, and then truly, no trace of Hao Asakura remained on Earth, though not in way his enemies hoped.

Ripple across sunlight, and they are in air, bleeding shaman and what remains of his spirit, orb of red flame barely sustained by rapidly drying furyoku. He sends small spark of himself onto grass, consuming it, tasting it. There is nothing toxic to creatures of Earth in it, so he gently lies master on the soft, green ground.

Those that met him know him as thing of destruction, ultimate killing machine that sows tragedy wherever it goes. They forget that nature can ruin and preserve equally. He can latch on anything, consume it, make it part of himself as it screams and begs and becomes dirt and smoke, but he can save lives too. He is that original spark that makes life possible, flame that protects fragile little things from biting chill, light that keeps things that go bump in night away, sun that fosters planets to sprout life.

He is weak now. Were it just few days- no, hours!-ago, he could have brought dead back to life. But now... He spreads over grass, over beautiful green meadow, turning it into charred wasteland. As their bodies become black ash, their souls become his meal, converted in reiryoku. It isn't enough, but better anything than nothing.

For moment he became solid, horned imp with tail and green eyes. Power swirled through him, as spirits were broken and made part of his own. Their memories, abilities, all they ever experienced-it all became part of him. Shimmering with dull orange glow, he pressed claws on wound and pushed.

Power instantly fled, leaving him with aching pain, akin to having one's organs ripped out, and flowed into his master's body.

There was so much damage. Broken nose and chin, cut extending from forehead to lips, so deep that only layer of flesh was left over bone. Four wounds at throat, three broken ribs, internal injuries and bleeding of chest area. Big cut over whole torso. Possible damage of veins and arteries. Some nerves were probably affected too. People have died of less. Master should have died of less.

At least nothing happened to heart or brain. With his current power level, fixing that would be too complicated. But now, power flowed through master, hot and slow like lava, fighting against approaching death like rabid beast. He concentrated at key areas- throat, chest, abdomen. Took care of blood vessels and nerves too. Better safe than sorry, or so he heard people say.

Master screamed though his eyes were still closed. Spasms overtook him, arms flinging and body wildly twisting. He sweated and cried, panic and confusion robbing his mind of any coherent thought, as it was violently flung from edge between death and dream. Such rapid healing wasn't supposed to happen- pain was price of speed. Master could just scream as if he was filled with molten metal and burning coal.

Body accepted him, desperate for anything that could work, no matter how painful, like starved man chasing promise of food over sharp nails. Under careful application of his nature, cells multiplied and tissue reconnected, flesh mending as seconds passed. Bleeding stopped and wounds lost their depth, though they were still severe. Growth and renewal, after all, fell under his domain.

In minutes, all his power was spent. Master immediately lost consciousness, just as fast as he regained it, and could only lie there, grunting and moaning like wounded animal, soft gasps falling between severed lips. He couldn't fix them, just as he couldn't fix wound at forehead, or heal broken bones, or wound at torso. Wounds remained, needed to be taken care of, to prevent infection or reopening and hundred different things. There was still matter of blood loss- for few days, his healing would negate it's effects, and perhaps master's furyoku could be redirected to serve healing purpose... Not to mention getting food... He couldn't allow master to eat anything from this planet, even if so far he found nothing toxic .

Not that there was much to eat, even by master's standards. He was told few times that master used to eat grass when he was younger, and while Spirit of Fire was mostly sure that master joked, he couldn't allow something like that to happen. Regular trips to Earth couldn't be avoided. At least so he could gobble up few spirits on the way. Maybe even steal some medicine...

He huffed, causing few streaks of smoke to fly over him. It was tiring day. Everything went wrong so fast. They were supposed to free the Earth from it's imminent doom, not hide away on other side of universe! They even had power of the Progenitor, power of ultimate creation and destruction! They were the strongest, the most powerful, the greatest shaman and spirit ever! Yet they failed-again- foiled by bunch of stupid, self-righteous brats led by an idiot. Piece of master's soul, but no less stupid. And his spirit! A mere ghost, not even millennium old! Previous time, it had taken fully trained monk, a god and master's own Goryoushin! They were weaker then, yet they failed now, as they failed then.

He heard that you should always try to find positive side of situation. At least this time master was alive. For now. Barely. And chance of them ever competing in another Shaman Fight were laughable. Along with chances of them ever getting out of Hell again. Or master living on Earth.

He was failure at this too.

As his light dimmed and master's moans faded, his breathing less and less erratic, Spirit of Fire could only hope that someday, another shaman would follow in master's footsteps, and succeed where they failed.

After all, even if it happened only once or twice ( counting master) during Earth's history, there was always hope. Right?

Right?

To note, in side story Mappa Douji, young Hao mentions to Ohachiyo that he often eats grass ( page nineteen, counting cover, panel four).The manga also reveals that Asakura who defeated Hao during his second life was Yohken, ascetic monk like Mikihisa, with help of Kami level spirit Dai Tengu and Matamune ( spirit of cat's Hao friend whom he transformed into his guardian after cat's death).

Thank you for reading. Please review.