Ok I think most know the drill but let's get the legal stuff out of the way first anyway: The author does not own the rights to the characters, symbols, or references contained herein, they are each property of their respective companies and associates. The author in no way claims said characters, symbols or references and is also in no way receiving any form of payment from the story herein.
(Sounds very official eh? In other words I don't claim anything so please don't sue me, the only things I own are the story and the original characters). Ok, now that that's out of the way I just have a few more things to say: This is my first fanfiction so pls. R/R. I maybe haven't watched as much of the series as I might have so apology's in advance for any mistakes. I know I suck in spelling and grammar. And I mention Moo's 'big bad five'. I know in the series it's only four but the reason for that is explained. That's about all so here it is, I hope you enjoy.
Jourell's Lament
A small group of strangers had entered the town earlier that day and now, though none of the townsfolk knew it, a familiar argument was taking place outside a vendor's stall.
"I want to go to a restaurant!" Swazo complained.
Holly sighed, "Come on guys, we've been through this before, we have to be thrifty. The more we stretch our money, the less you guys have to fight."
Genki grinned, "Come on Holly, we've just been in a big battle with Moo's soldiers so I think we deserve something. Besides, we need somewhere to stay tonight and we can go to an inn. "
The monsters were quick to agree.
"Genki right chi!"
"The kid has a point."
"Logicly speaking, it's a good idea."
"Golem thinks so to."
"So...what do you say Holly?"
The others were all looking at her. Holly smiled, she knew she was outvoted. She sighed and gave in good naturedly, "You win."
A cheer rose from the rest of the group.
Night was beginning to fall and a quiet had set in over the inn that Kirthreal called home. As the young blonde woman busied herself with collecting plates she mentally checked that everything was quiet. Dinner was over and most patrons had gone or retired to their rooms, only a few remained nursing less strong drinks. She was very strict about this, she would not have drunks in the inn. The dull buzz of a dozen low conversations filled the room. Kirhtreal's father, adoptive father she corrected herself quickly, owned the small inn but as he had fallen ill the past few years she had taken over the running of it and had proven herself very competent.
This being the case she didn't have to help out as she did, Kirthreal mused handing the plates to Jillian, one of her waitresses, and a small place like this only really needed a few hands to keep it running. However she didn't believe in standing idly by as others worked. Living in the country, before she had moved here, had taught her that. She walked out onto the large porch and began to wipe down one of the tables. She paused a moment to gaze at the sunset: It was blood red like one other she had known a long time ago, and that one had proved particularly appropriate....
No. It was as if a wall had come up between Kirthreal's conscious mind and her memories. She kept those memories close to her heart but far from her mind lest they overwhelm her. She didn't think of them but still held onto them for she had always firmly believed that to try and deny your memories, no matter how painful, was to deny yourself.
Looking back to her task she noticed a small group that seemed to be heading towards the inn from the street. There were seven in all: five monsters and two humans, a boy and a girl. They look a little young to be on their own. thought Kirthreal as they approached her. She sized them up: the Hare and the Tiger seemed wary of and almost aggressive to each other and kept as far from each other as possible. On the flip side of this the Swazo seemed to keep as close to the girl as possible as a little monster of a type she hadn't seen before kept close to the boy. From the Hare she got an impression of an almost crafty intelligence, and from the Tiger a warrior's strength and pride. The Golem seemed to have a strong mind and a gentle heart and the Swazo gave an air of underlying loyalty above all as did the little monster. The girl seemed to be strong out of need but kind and the boy...she found him to be a little puzzling.
Her initial impression was of innocence and of boundless energy reluctantly gathered into one place but underneath that she sensed a strong mind and stronger resolve. There was something else as well... something perhaps... not of this world? No, that was ridiculous.
The girl smiled as the group approached, "Hello."
Kirthreal gave a kind smile back, "Hello and welcome to the 'Phoenix Flame' are you just passing through town?"
The boy gave a broad grin "that's right, we're looking for the Phoenix."
"The Phoenix?" Kirthreal's eyes opened wider in surprise. The rebels half expected her to turn them away on the spot. It wasn't very uncommon for people were scared of Moo. But then someone who would name their inn after Moo's greatest enemy wouldn't be very worried about that. Sure enough she smiled again "Then you've come to the right place. My foster father collects Phoenix lore, that's why he named this place the 'Phoenix Flame'. He's resting now but if you ask him later I'm sure he'll tell you stories for hours on end. My name's Kirthreal."
The girl, Holly she called herself, introduced the group. Most of the monsters went by their species' name, no huge surprise there. She found out that the little monster was called a 'Mocchi' and the odd boy was Genki. Kirthreal gestured to the door behind her
"You must be hungry, all travellers are. Once you've paid for your rooms the meals are on the house."
With an excited clamour the group entered the inn. The room was large (even Golem could almost stand up straight) but still cosy. Several tables fill most of the space, though only a few were occupied, and a cheerful fire crackled at the far end of the room. Kirhtreal called into the kitchen and soon, they were settled at a table over several large places of food.
Later, as promised, Kirthreal's father Kirare met them in the living section of the inn. He was a stocky, jovial man who had seen much life and laughter by the many lines on his face. However the darkened hollows under his eyes and the slight paleness of his skin betrayed the fact the he was not as well as he first appeared. He sat in a comfortable armchair with a slight groan and a broad grin.
"So, my Kirthreal tells me that you all are interested in the Phoenix." He gave a hearty laugh that turned into a hacking cough. Kirthreal place a concerned hand on his should and he covered it with his own still smiling broadly as the cough subsided. The rebels looked a little uneasy at this.
"Not to worry, just a bug." he continued, "I've had worse. As I was about to say, I'll tell you all I can but if any of you start nodding off, let me know."
He chuckled a little more and leaned back, "So tell me, have you heard the legend of how the Phoenix came to be? Of the first battle between the firebird and Moo?"
The rebels nodded, having heard the story what seemed a long time ago from a monster storyteller named Monol.
Kirare looked a little disappointed then grinned again, "Ah, but have you heard the last one?"
Genki looked confused, "The last what?"
"Battle of course. Have you ever heard the prophecy of the final conflict?" They hadn't.
"Well then." the man leaned closer and looked around as if about to share a great secret, when he spoke his voice was quiet, piercing, with every word clear and getting slightly louder at just the right moments. The voice of an experienced story teller.
"For ten apon ten generations the Firebird shall sleep.
For ten apon ten generations the Dark One shall sleep.
After this time the Dark One shall be awakened for a short time until he returns to his full terrible glory.
Though angels fly the skies and monsters of two worlds shall rise against him, he shall not fall.
For it is only through the death of their saviour that the worlds shall find their salvation.
Then the tears of the Daughter of Darkness shall ignite the pyre of the light of the eight.
And from the ashes of the pyre the guardian Kige, as his namesake, shall rise.
The stone of the Firebird shall be spun by the nine and of ten apon ten generations the Firebird shall awake.
But to defeat the Dark one the Firebird must give all, yet not all.
The fires shall spread across the lands consuming them.
From ashes of fire grow the roses of life and love.
So it shall be, yet not quite as written."
All his listeners blinked as the dire prediction came to an end. Genki, as usual, was the first to voice his thoughts
"Wow! What do you think it means?"
"Well, I'll tell you...." they leaned in expectantly, "I have no idea."
The searchers fell down.
Eight year old Holly ran through the woods giggling. A boy with long dark hair was close behind. She couldn't remember where she had met him but felt like she knew him.
"Holly! Dinner time!" Her father's baritone voice cut through the trees. Holly turned and gesturing towards her new friend, ran back along the path to her village. Yosho, her father, was standing outside their home waving, his broad face wearing an even broader smile. While the boy held back she ran and surrounded him (or as far around as she could reach) in a loving hug.
To her surprise, he gripped her arms hard in return. The clothing her wore was no longer his own, it was golden armour. She looked up into a helmeted, masked face with glowing eyes: the face of Moo.
She screamed but no sound came. All around her seemed to darken until there was nothing left. Nothing left be her and Moo. And the boy. She felt his weight as he tackled her away from Moo's grasp and as she sprawled on the ground, her friend with the unruly black hair scrambled quickly to his feet and stood between her still prone form and the terrible figure that stood where her father had been, in an almost familiar gesture of defiance.
The armoured figure threw back it's head as if to laugh, but there was no sound. There was no sound anywhere and this terrified her even more. Suddenly the armour cracked and shattered but the man who was her father was nowhere to be seen. Instead a great beast seemed to uncoil itself, growing larger by the moment. It unfurled great wings and if an expression could be said to be on it's muzzled face, it would be one of savage triumph.
It moved towards the frightened children but then stopped and glanced up at the sky as if hearing a sound that they could not. From the east in the sky a great bird who's feathers seemed to be made of pure flame was soaring towards the three. It was the Phoenix.
The beast's terrible expression deepened into rage and hatred and it rose into the air to meet it's adversary. A fearful, silent battle ensued in which Moo, the beast, seemed to gain the upper hand. The firebird was indeed powerful, but not powerful enough. It needed something more. Something more.....
With a soft cry, Holly woke up. Tears threatened her as they always did after such dreams. Her father, or was it Moo? She could never be sure anymore. It was always in the back of her mind as they fought forward day after day: Moo was her father.
She shivered but not from cold as she lay in the inn's comfortable bed. Genki slept nearby, he looked so innocent and young as he slept there. Well, he was. He had something perhaps she had lost and maybe she was gaining some of it back as she travelled with him.
She closed her eyes again, and it was only then that she heard it: music. Soft and sweet, almost inaudible it was carried apon the warm night air in through the partly open window. As she listened it spun a silver spider web about her. It was a celebration of life but underneath this was a sense of terrible loss. The music rose and fell in volume with the whispering of the night wind, a lament to beauty.
She got up and stood by the window, enchanted by the music. Slowly she looked, trying to see where it was coming from but was unsuccessful. Then, as rapidly as it had come, the flute's song ended, vanishing into the very whisper that had held it.
For a moment Holly stood there listening, but there was to be no more. Turning back towards her bed she happened to look down outside the wind and saw something that astonished her: Kirthreal. The young woman was standing just beyond the inn's porch dressed in a white night-gown and holding a lantern. And on her cheek, glistening in the moonlight, was a tear.
So there it is, the second chapter. Man, it's take me a long time to post, But I did deside post it even though I didn't get nearly the amount of reviews I expected for the first part, hopefully the story will do better. I'm still rather new at this and feedback will be appreceated.
In Service,
The Paladin