A/N: As I have written in 'Soul Bound,' I am taking this story in a very different direction (original fiction and publication) so while I will leave this prequel up for anyone stumbling upon old RK, there will be no additions. I hope that you can enjoy what is here as a few peeks into another world.

Prologue: Kaoru

Fast this Life of mine was dying,

Blind already and calm as death,

Snowflakes on her bosom lying

Scarcely heaving with her breath.

Kaoru was pretty certain this was what facing death felt like.

The worst part, however, hadn't been the pain – it had been the blood on her face that was not her own.

All the broken bones from training, all the scraps and cuts from sword wounds - nothing could compare to the pain of seeing her parents being killed before her very eyes. So it was easy to accept her own death coming now; she had little motivation left to fight for her life against the masked intruders.

A few of her father's apprentices lay across the floor as well, having run to their master's call. Unfortunately, their skill was nowhere near the master's, and he had fallen in minutes. Next had been, almost inevitably, their defeat, after which came her mother – for she had understood what had taken Kaoru precious minutes to comprehend – the attackers were here for her.

Kaoru had only heard murmured whispers about the abducted girls, but the new government had assured them that such threats were being dealt with, and would soon come to an end.

What they hadn't been prepared for was the foreign attack, forcing attention back to the old ways of fighting that held the advantage of a life force behind the weapon as well as the wielder. Looking for an edge in the war, they had used the last bonded ones who remained to defeat the enemy.

But the war had brought the truth about bonded weapons back to other quarters, to those not as concerned about willingness or training. And so black market selling of forced bondings had escalated in the past three years.

Kaoru's father had begun training her in earnest then, and she had still been too young to understand the implications of his earnestness.

So she had taken up the wooden sword dropped by her mother and tried to fight them off herself. By the time a strong voice called out, "Stop, you idiots!" she was bleeding profusely.

"We don't want her dead," came the rough voice, and Kaoru paled.

At this point, she would have preferred a quick end, rather than torture.

"I've heard you were trained, little girl," came a different, condescending voice. "Why don't you show us, eh? Cooperate, and we won't be forced to hurt you anymore."

She wanted to scream and lunge at his throat, but somehow, her father's words echoed powerfully in her head from one of the first lessons he had ever taught her, real enough to make her pause.

"Kaoru, this is a special gift, do you understand? Your great-grandmother learned many years ago, and passed it down to me, in case of the direst emergency."

Kaoru stared up at him with wondering eyes. Her mother had told stories of how great-grandmother had fought in the previous war, and helped establish the Kamiya name.

"This time, our time, may require such drastic measures," her father muttered, brows furred in deep worry. His gaze settled back on the young girl before him. "If you are ever in danger Kaoru, and I am not there to help you, or for that matter, anyone else, you must remember this – remember the feel of a sword, the sense that it is just like you – a beautiful weapon that is sharp and strong and lethal. I can only teach you so much, Kaoru, but if you ask, this steel that has protected our family for generations should lend you its protection as well."

Looking past the masked figures covered in blood, she focused on her father's fallen form, finding his sword by the glint of moonlight off metal.

Please, please.

I need help!

Please, Father told me not to die yet…

I don't want to die!

Her fear was like a waterlogged coat, hanging on her shoulders and dragging her down just as much as her injuries were. Yet it also acted as a rush of adrenaline, keeping her standing when the blows to her body should have sent her down.

And then somehow, there was a voice echoing inside her mind, responding, showing her a vision she had never seen before, never imagined.

In awe and wonder, all fear forgotten, she grasped at the fire and warmth – the closest ideas she had to describe what was reaching out to her.

The pain was a surprise, and she would have cried out if she had still had a voice or a mouth to express it with.

Instead, the pain shifted into something different, shifted her, and then kept going, blazing through every bone, every last vein in her body, until she was no longer Kaoru, but the most intense and pure things that Kaoru had ever been.

New senses spread out, new perceptions, and she could suddenly feel the shock and confusion of the men who had been threatening her.

Their lives were like candle flame in her 'sight,' and for a moment they were all still.

Then one that was slightly bigger than the others came towards her, and though she knew no fear, there was trepidation, for she did not want him to touch her.

When his sweaty hand grabbed hold of her, she cried out in distress, rejecting his spirit.

With a curse, he let go the blade.

The jarring sensation of hitting the floor cut off her mental yell, and Kaoru shuddered, wondering what would happen now.

Out of the corner of her vision, a flame was snuffed out.

Three more followed in quick succession, and then all the lights in her view were moving towards one small blue flame which had come through the roof.

Kaoru watched that flame move with elation; she longed for it to come closer, to try its luck on holding her.

Minutes later, only the blue flame remained, and Kaoru-who-was-the-blade hummed with expectation.

When his calloused hand finally took hold, she was unprepared for the jerk of changing, the feeling of her heart being torn from its moorings, like a tough cloth being torn in two.

Neither she nor the blade, for she registered that they were no longer one, had expected the parting.

Her suddenly human ears registered a loud gasp, and fumbling hands went around her back as she sagged to the floor.

And right before she fainted from blood-loss, she tilted her head to see wide violet eyes staring back.

Love came by, and having known her

In a dream of fabled lands,

Gently stooped, and laid upon her

Mystic chrism of holy hands;

Drew his smile across her folded

Eyelids, as the swallow dips;

Breathed as finely as the cold did

Through the locking of her lips.

So, when Life looked upward, being

Warmed and breathed on from above,

What sight could she have for seeing,

Evermore… but only for Love?

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning