Title: Web of Time 2/?
By Hana-chan
Category: AU, yaoi, angst, occasional lemon
Pairings: eventual 1x4, 2x3x2, 5xOC
Ratings: Varies. This part is R for violence
Spoiler: None really, takes place about one year after EW
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Gundam Wing. This is for fun, not profit, so don't sue me. The story, and any characters that do not belong to GW belong to me.
thoughts ::telepathy:: ~emphasis~ *** scene change
Web of Time
Chapter 2
Wufei stirred, suppressing a groan of pain as he tried to assess his situation. The last thing he remembered was diving between those two portals, and a shock similar to electrocution, then nothing. Feigning unconsciousness, the former pilot opened his eyes a crack to survey the situation. He was lying on a hardwood floor, a wood paneled wall several inches from his face.
The young man shifted slightly as if just regaining consciousness, and rolled as far onto his back as his backpack would allow, scanning the walls and ceiling for surveillance equipment. He wasn't entirely surprised to find none, as he didn't appear to be in a cell. He was very surprised, however, to find himself in a hallway, sword still under his hand backpack jabbing into his flesh.
Puzzled, but unable to see or hear anyone, the pilot stood slowly, muscles twitching from the aftereffects of his experience. Well, that certainly isn't something I want to repeat. he thought, as he resheathed his sword before cautiously moved toward the nearest window on his right. Leaning against the wall, the young man peered out, trying to take in his situation. This is getting stranger by the minute, he thought as he noticed the narrow wooden balcony and the curved ceramic roof that was glazed a bright red color.
A pagoda? he wondered, recognizing the familiar building construction, though he noticed a few differences such as the lack of statuettes on the roof. Moving away from the window, he proceeded to slowly walk along the hallway, keeping the windows on his right. The building appeared to be octagonal in shape, and the young man was currently making a circuit around it. As he approached his starting point, he found two doors: one to the balcony on his right, and one to a room on his left. Dropping into a crouch, he peered into the interior doorway.
The room had been ransacked.
Tables and statues had been destroyed, tapestries slashed with a blade of some sort, and stains of what looked to be dried blood soaked the floor. The only thing left untouched was a wooden rack that held a sheathed sword and several scrolls. He frowned in anger, disgust and curiosity. What kind of person desecrated a temple in this manner? Then destroyed the lesser items, but left such a weapon?
Shaking his head he looked more closely at the room, and this time frowned in confusion. There didn't appear to be any other entrance to this level. How can there be no access to the ground floor? he asked himself. Stepping through the doorway, he examined the room. There didn't even seem to be space for a hidden passageway. Walking back into the hallway he moved towards the doorway that led to the balcony. In his experience there were no stairways from the balconies of pagodas, but nothing much was normal about things thus far.
A high-pitched scream tore through the outside air. Eyes narrowed warily, the youth stepped outside and, hugging the wall, skulked towards the sound. The scream came again and he picked up his pace. That sounds like a child. The ring of steel on steel stopped him, and he peered through the slats of the railing. Below him were half a dozen soldiers. The setting sun reflected off their armor, as they moved to surround a child and a warrior dressed in browns. The warrior was struggling to keep his body between the soldiers and the child, sun glinting redly on his naked blade.
"K'so," he cursed quietly. Removing his backpack and sword belt, Wufei drew his sword. He wondered briefly if these were the dishonorable curs that had desecrated the temple. He climbed over the railing and carefully made his way to the edge of the first sloped roof. Hopping down to the second roof, he went to the edge and somersaulted off in move that would do Trowa proud. Landing gracefully, he dashed over towards the battle. The two were surrounded, and the warrior wouldn't be able to protect the child for much longer.
Coming from behind, Wufei ran one fighter through just before he was about to impale the child. Growling in outrage, the pilot placed himself back-to-back with the warrior, keeping the child - a boy - between them. Taking a brief moment to examine the dishonorable fighters-they did not deserve to be called warriors--Wufei gasped at the double image he suddenly had. Gray skin and red hair were transposed over the human features momentarily before returning to normal.
Concentrate you baka, he told himself, defending against the combined attack of two swordsmen.
It didn't take long for Wufei to realize that each of the attackers was at least as good as he was, and that if the three of them didn't get to a more defensible position, they wouldn't survive. Looking back at the temple, he spotted the main entrance. If they could get inside, they could use the doorway or stairwell if there was one, to protect their flanks. They would stand a chance then, especially if the boy could hide somewhere.
"Warrior," he hissed at the man guarding his back. "The temple."
The brown-clad warrior glared over his shoulder then nodded. Wufei redoubled his attack on one of the two soldiers, and deliberately created an opening, giving the illusion of weakness. One of the fighters attacked the apparent weakness, and found himself with a sword point through the gut.
"Now," shouted the pilot as the soldier dropped, creating a break. The child bolted for the temple while Wufei and the other warrior backed towards it, three remaining soldiers attacking them.
"Hurry," came the boy's voice from inside the temple. As one, the two defenders turned and ran for the door, helping to secure the door as it was slammed closed behind them.
"To the stairwell," said the unknown warrior, and Wufei was surprised at the sound of the voice. He must be younger than I thought, he mused, trailing behind the other two. Part of his mind noted the jet black hair, pulled into a tail like he himself usually wore, and the somewhat traditional cut of his clothing, but he was unable to get a clear view of his face.
The younger boy, however, was obviously of Chinese descent, dark hair and eyes attesting to the fact. Wufei spotted the stairwell at the back of the room, just as he heard the main doors splintering under the efforts of the soldiers outside. He realized that it must open into the room with the sword, and briefly wondered which wall it emerged from.
"You go first," he said to the warrior, who was waiting at the base. "He will need to be protected if I fail, and he knows you." He nodded to the youngster who had already run upwards into the darkening passage.
After a hesitation, the other nodded. A moment later the main doors splintered and crashed open. Backing partially up the narrow passageway, Wufei swung his sword experimentally - he'd have just enough room to move comfortably.
The three remaining soldiers approached him, cursing as they realized they'd have to fight him one at a time, rather than as a group as they had before. Snarling, one of them charged up the few steps separating them and swung his sword, blades meeting with a loud clang that sent sparks flying.
They traded blows, the sound of their combat echoing harshly up the staircase. The pilot had the advantage of height as he took the offensive, backing his opponent down the stairs again. Unfortunately, they were evenly matched, and while Wufei might be able to defeat this one, he was uncertain if he could duel all three of them successfully, and there was no easy way to trade places with his new ally.
Letting himself go on the defensive, the Chinese youth leapt back two steps rather than blocking the sword. The move was unexpected, causing the soldier to stumble, and giving Wufei the opening he needed. Bringing his sword down on the unprotected neck, he kicked the now headless body down to the floor.
He waited for the next attack. He knew there would be one, judging by the enraged expressions the two remaining soldiers wore. Wufei didn't blame them for being upset, especially after losing four teammates to two warriors who were over a head shorter than them.
The two fighters held a brief whispered conference before one of them stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked. "And why do defend these brats?"
"I am Chang Wufei," he said proudly. "And I defend them because six against one is a dishonorable battle."
"Dishonorable?" the man said scornfully. "There is nothing wrong with exterminating pests."
"Pests?" questioned Wufei with incredulous scorn. "Human beings are not pests." He's stalling, he thought quickly. What could be his reason for stalling?
"Not all of them are," agreed the soldier. "But Dragons definitely fall under that category."
"Hn," grunted Wufei, hiding his shock. Dragons? As in Dragon Clan?
Wufei had a sudden feeling of dread and he tensed. Something was going to happen.
Then something did.
A sickly red light flared around the pilot's sword and an electric heat shot up his arm. One soldier leapt forward to attack. Gritting his teeth in pain, Wufei raised his sword, determined to meet the attack.
His sword shattered on impact.
Gasping in shock, he stared at the twelve inches of jagged steel - the last remnants of his family sword. "Kuso," he cursed, jumping backwards up the steps, trying desperately to avoid his opponents blade.
"Warrior," cried the young man behind him. "Let me pass - I'll fight."
"Too narrow," he responded, lashing out with a kick. I need a weapon. Suddenly the image of the sword he'd seen upstairs flashed through his mind.
"Yes," he breathed to himself. "Warrior, crouch down and prepare to attack," he said quickly. A quick glance showed that the other had done as ordered, and Wufei took a deep breath then sprung up and back in a backward somersault, landing lightly behind his ally.
Both of the fighters were shocked momentarily, until the brown-clad youth attacked. The battle raged on again.
Racing up the stairs, the pilot stopped at the top where the child crouched. "The door?" he whispered harshly, still clutching the remains of his sword. The young boy nodded and pressed one of the panels which caused a doorway to open away from them. Nodding his thanks, the Chinese teen pushed his way into the room, noting briefly that he was at the back of the room. As he'd hoped, the sword was still there, cradled in it's wooden rack, scrolls beneath it. Placing his broken blade on the floor, he picked up the sword reverently, drawing if from its sheath. It was perfectly balanced, as if it were made for him. He heard the child gasp softly, as he placed the scabbard back on the rack.
Rushing out the opposite door, he dashed to the balcony, and repeated his descent from earlier, landing gracefully outside the temple. Peering through the ruined door, he noticed that the warrior was still facing the same soldier. He is a skilled warrior for one so young, he thought in admiration before quietly creeping back into the temple. He frowned as he stalked forward. Something is not right about that other soldier, the one who destroyed my sword. The image of a gray skinned, red haired creature kept playing in his mind. Could it be disguising its identity with some sort of hologram? he wondered.
Then the air went completely still.
Wufei gasped as the image of a dozen creatures entering the temple came to him, along with flashes of death for the warrior, the child, and himself. Fast deaths, slow ones, by torture, by fire - the possibilities whipped through his mind in an instant.
Kisama! Get a hold on yourself, he mentally cursed himself. Imagine things later, distract him so that he cannot open the portal.
Running on quiet feet, he shouted his challenge as he neared. The silent fighter jumped, startled, and the pinpoint of red light vanished.
The Portal Caster spun, sword drawn, enraged expression on his face. Upon seeing Wufei, however, it changed to shock then fear before settling in a blank mask.
What has upset him? the pilot asked himself as he engaged the enemy. Pushing the thought away, he focused on his opponent. The fighter was good, but Wufei knew that he would win. The sword in his hand sung through the air, catching every stray beam of light in the room so that it appeared to glow. The Chinese youth was amazed at how easy it was - he could anticipate and counter the other's moves with an ease he'd never experienced before.
The fight, therefore, was over almost before it had begun. Wufei turned from the body of his foe, looking towards the stairs to see the final enemy fall to the black haired warrior. "Are you well?" he asked the other boy, who was casually cleaning his sword on his foe's tunic. Glancing at his new blade, Wufei was surprised to see it was already clean.
"I am fine," he commented. "Thank you for your assistance,"
"Hn. No thanks are necessary," the pilot responded. Taking a moment to observe the other youth, he noted that he too was Chinese, with the same dark eyes that Wufei had. Wisps of hair had come lose and hung around his face. The delicate strength of the boy reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think of who. His head suddenly began throbbing, and he wondered if the warrior would introduce himself and his young companion.
When no names were forthcoming Wufei decided to begin. "Do you have a name, or should I just call you warrior?" he asked, noticing that the other swordsman was staring at him.
The boy started and blushed. "Forgive my manners," he apologized. "You bear a strong resemblance to someone I know. It was unexpected."
How odd, mused Wufei. We are both experiencing deja vous. And he sounds to be only about twelve or thirteen, While he knew it was possible to be an accomplished fighter at that age, he himself had been, it still caught him off guard.
"My name is. . ." he began only to be cut off by a high pitched voice from upstairs.
"Mei, Mei," cried the child as he came pounding down the stairs. He leapt over the bodies at the bottom, scabbard and scrolls clutched to his chest. "He's the one! He's got the sword," he exclaimed, panting for breath. "Meiying, he has the Horacyrus Blade."
Wufei looked at the young boy in curiosity. His straight black hair tangled around his chin and stuck to his lips. He also bore a strong resemblance to the warrior. Thinking of the warrior, he recalled the name the boy had used. Meiying? That's a woman's name, he thought in astonishment, barely managing to erase the expression from his face before he ~she~ turned back to him, glare lighting up her dark eyes.
"You have the Horacyrus Blade?" she asked in an angry voice. "How do you know, Liko?"
"I saw him take it," he said with a grin. "Here's the scabbard, and the scrolls, see?"
The girl examined the items carefully then looked at Wufei with an expression between anger and awe. "~You~ are the one the prophecies speak of?" she asked in a stunned voice.
Wufei raised a questioning eyebrow. Horacyrus Blade? Prophecies? "I'm afraid that I have no idea what you are talking about," he said honestly.
"Everyone's heard of the Horacyrus Blade - that's why the South Demoans destroyed the temple," the boy said. "Where're you from anyway?"
"L-5," he responded hesitantly, realizing that it would likely mean as much to them as the Horacyrus Blade meant to him. Their blank looks confirmed his suspicions.
"What does it mean that I have this sword?" he asked. "It was just laying there on the stand after all." Though, if it is important as they say, I don't know why it was still there, he thought privately.
The other two just stared at him, the girl with suspicion, the boy with disbelief. "Why, it means you're the Hidden Prince, who'll help save us from the Demons, of course."
TBC
Next chapter, some familiar faces.
--Hana-chan
By Hana-chan
Category: AU, yaoi, angst, occasional lemon
Pairings: eventual 1x4, 2x3x2, 5xOC
Ratings: Varies. This part is R for violence
Spoiler: None really, takes place about one year after EW
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Gundam Wing. This is for fun, not profit, so don't sue me. The story, and any characters that do not belong to GW belong to me.
thoughts ::telepathy:: ~emphasis~ *** scene change
Web of Time
Chapter 2
Wufei stirred, suppressing a groan of pain as he tried to assess his situation. The last thing he remembered was diving between those two portals, and a shock similar to electrocution, then nothing. Feigning unconsciousness, the former pilot opened his eyes a crack to survey the situation. He was lying on a hardwood floor, a wood paneled wall several inches from his face.
The young man shifted slightly as if just regaining consciousness, and rolled as far onto his back as his backpack would allow, scanning the walls and ceiling for surveillance equipment. He wasn't entirely surprised to find none, as he didn't appear to be in a cell. He was very surprised, however, to find himself in a hallway, sword still under his hand backpack jabbing into his flesh.
Puzzled, but unable to see or hear anyone, the pilot stood slowly, muscles twitching from the aftereffects of his experience. Well, that certainly isn't something I want to repeat. he thought, as he resheathed his sword before cautiously moved toward the nearest window on his right. Leaning against the wall, the young man peered out, trying to take in his situation. This is getting stranger by the minute, he thought as he noticed the narrow wooden balcony and the curved ceramic roof that was glazed a bright red color.
A pagoda? he wondered, recognizing the familiar building construction, though he noticed a few differences such as the lack of statuettes on the roof. Moving away from the window, he proceeded to slowly walk along the hallway, keeping the windows on his right. The building appeared to be octagonal in shape, and the young man was currently making a circuit around it. As he approached his starting point, he found two doors: one to the balcony on his right, and one to a room on his left. Dropping into a crouch, he peered into the interior doorway.
The room had been ransacked.
Tables and statues had been destroyed, tapestries slashed with a blade of some sort, and stains of what looked to be dried blood soaked the floor. The only thing left untouched was a wooden rack that held a sheathed sword and several scrolls. He frowned in anger, disgust and curiosity. What kind of person desecrated a temple in this manner? Then destroyed the lesser items, but left such a weapon?
Shaking his head he looked more closely at the room, and this time frowned in confusion. There didn't appear to be any other entrance to this level. How can there be no access to the ground floor? he asked himself. Stepping through the doorway, he examined the room. There didn't even seem to be space for a hidden passageway. Walking back into the hallway he moved towards the doorway that led to the balcony. In his experience there were no stairways from the balconies of pagodas, but nothing much was normal about things thus far.
A high-pitched scream tore through the outside air. Eyes narrowed warily, the youth stepped outside and, hugging the wall, skulked towards the sound. The scream came again and he picked up his pace. That sounds like a child. The ring of steel on steel stopped him, and he peered through the slats of the railing. Below him were half a dozen soldiers. The setting sun reflected off their armor, as they moved to surround a child and a warrior dressed in browns. The warrior was struggling to keep his body between the soldiers and the child, sun glinting redly on his naked blade.
"K'so," he cursed quietly. Removing his backpack and sword belt, Wufei drew his sword. He wondered briefly if these were the dishonorable curs that had desecrated the temple. He climbed over the railing and carefully made his way to the edge of the first sloped roof. Hopping down to the second roof, he went to the edge and somersaulted off in move that would do Trowa proud. Landing gracefully, he dashed over towards the battle. The two were surrounded, and the warrior wouldn't be able to protect the child for much longer.
Coming from behind, Wufei ran one fighter through just before he was about to impale the child. Growling in outrage, the pilot placed himself back-to-back with the warrior, keeping the child - a boy - between them. Taking a brief moment to examine the dishonorable fighters-they did not deserve to be called warriors--Wufei gasped at the double image he suddenly had. Gray skin and red hair were transposed over the human features momentarily before returning to normal.
Concentrate you baka, he told himself, defending against the combined attack of two swordsmen.
It didn't take long for Wufei to realize that each of the attackers was at least as good as he was, and that if the three of them didn't get to a more defensible position, they wouldn't survive. Looking back at the temple, he spotted the main entrance. If they could get inside, they could use the doorway or stairwell if there was one, to protect their flanks. They would stand a chance then, especially if the boy could hide somewhere.
"Warrior," he hissed at the man guarding his back. "The temple."
The brown-clad warrior glared over his shoulder then nodded. Wufei redoubled his attack on one of the two soldiers, and deliberately created an opening, giving the illusion of weakness. One of the fighters attacked the apparent weakness, and found himself with a sword point through the gut.
"Now," shouted the pilot as the soldier dropped, creating a break. The child bolted for the temple while Wufei and the other warrior backed towards it, three remaining soldiers attacking them.
"Hurry," came the boy's voice from inside the temple. As one, the two defenders turned and ran for the door, helping to secure the door as it was slammed closed behind them.
"To the stairwell," said the unknown warrior, and Wufei was surprised at the sound of the voice. He must be younger than I thought, he mused, trailing behind the other two. Part of his mind noted the jet black hair, pulled into a tail like he himself usually wore, and the somewhat traditional cut of his clothing, but he was unable to get a clear view of his face.
The younger boy, however, was obviously of Chinese descent, dark hair and eyes attesting to the fact. Wufei spotted the stairwell at the back of the room, just as he heard the main doors splintering under the efforts of the soldiers outside. He realized that it must open into the room with the sword, and briefly wondered which wall it emerged from.
"You go first," he said to the warrior, who was waiting at the base. "He will need to be protected if I fail, and he knows you." He nodded to the youngster who had already run upwards into the darkening passage.
After a hesitation, the other nodded. A moment later the main doors splintered and crashed open. Backing partially up the narrow passageway, Wufei swung his sword experimentally - he'd have just enough room to move comfortably.
The three remaining soldiers approached him, cursing as they realized they'd have to fight him one at a time, rather than as a group as they had before. Snarling, one of them charged up the few steps separating them and swung his sword, blades meeting with a loud clang that sent sparks flying.
They traded blows, the sound of their combat echoing harshly up the staircase. The pilot had the advantage of height as he took the offensive, backing his opponent down the stairs again. Unfortunately, they were evenly matched, and while Wufei might be able to defeat this one, he was uncertain if he could duel all three of them successfully, and there was no easy way to trade places with his new ally.
Letting himself go on the defensive, the Chinese youth leapt back two steps rather than blocking the sword. The move was unexpected, causing the soldier to stumble, and giving Wufei the opening he needed. Bringing his sword down on the unprotected neck, he kicked the now headless body down to the floor.
He waited for the next attack. He knew there would be one, judging by the enraged expressions the two remaining soldiers wore. Wufei didn't blame them for being upset, especially after losing four teammates to two warriors who were over a head shorter than them.
The two fighters held a brief whispered conference before one of them stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked. "And why do defend these brats?"
"I am Chang Wufei," he said proudly. "And I defend them because six against one is a dishonorable battle."
"Dishonorable?" the man said scornfully. "There is nothing wrong with exterminating pests."
"Pests?" questioned Wufei with incredulous scorn. "Human beings are not pests." He's stalling, he thought quickly. What could be his reason for stalling?
"Not all of them are," agreed the soldier. "But Dragons definitely fall under that category."
"Hn," grunted Wufei, hiding his shock. Dragons? As in Dragon Clan?
Wufei had a sudden feeling of dread and he tensed. Something was going to happen.
Then something did.
A sickly red light flared around the pilot's sword and an electric heat shot up his arm. One soldier leapt forward to attack. Gritting his teeth in pain, Wufei raised his sword, determined to meet the attack.
His sword shattered on impact.
Gasping in shock, he stared at the twelve inches of jagged steel - the last remnants of his family sword. "Kuso," he cursed, jumping backwards up the steps, trying desperately to avoid his opponents blade.
"Warrior," cried the young man behind him. "Let me pass - I'll fight."
"Too narrow," he responded, lashing out with a kick. I need a weapon. Suddenly the image of the sword he'd seen upstairs flashed through his mind.
"Yes," he breathed to himself. "Warrior, crouch down and prepare to attack," he said quickly. A quick glance showed that the other had done as ordered, and Wufei took a deep breath then sprung up and back in a backward somersault, landing lightly behind his ally.
Both of the fighters were shocked momentarily, until the brown-clad youth attacked. The battle raged on again.
Racing up the stairs, the pilot stopped at the top where the child crouched. "The door?" he whispered harshly, still clutching the remains of his sword. The young boy nodded and pressed one of the panels which caused a doorway to open away from them. Nodding his thanks, the Chinese teen pushed his way into the room, noting briefly that he was at the back of the room. As he'd hoped, the sword was still there, cradled in it's wooden rack, scrolls beneath it. Placing his broken blade on the floor, he picked up the sword reverently, drawing if from its sheath. It was perfectly balanced, as if it were made for him. He heard the child gasp softly, as he placed the scabbard back on the rack.
Rushing out the opposite door, he dashed to the balcony, and repeated his descent from earlier, landing gracefully outside the temple. Peering through the ruined door, he noticed that the warrior was still facing the same soldier. He is a skilled warrior for one so young, he thought in admiration before quietly creeping back into the temple. He frowned as he stalked forward. Something is not right about that other soldier, the one who destroyed my sword. The image of a gray skinned, red haired creature kept playing in his mind. Could it be disguising its identity with some sort of hologram? he wondered.
Then the air went completely still.
Wufei gasped as the image of a dozen creatures entering the temple came to him, along with flashes of death for the warrior, the child, and himself. Fast deaths, slow ones, by torture, by fire - the possibilities whipped through his mind in an instant.
Kisama! Get a hold on yourself, he mentally cursed himself. Imagine things later, distract him so that he cannot open the portal.
Running on quiet feet, he shouted his challenge as he neared. The silent fighter jumped, startled, and the pinpoint of red light vanished.
The Portal Caster spun, sword drawn, enraged expression on his face. Upon seeing Wufei, however, it changed to shock then fear before settling in a blank mask.
What has upset him? the pilot asked himself as he engaged the enemy. Pushing the thought away, he focused on his opponent. The fighter was good, but Wufei knew that he would win. The sword in his hand sung through the air, catching every stray beam of light in the room so that it appeared to glow. The Chinese youth was amazed at how easy it was - he could anticipate and counter the other's moves with an ease he'd never experienced before.
The fight, therefore, was over almost before it had begun. Wufei turned from the body of his foe, looking towards the stairs to see the final enemy fall to the black haired warrior. "Are you well?" he asked the other boy, who was casually cleaning his sword on his foe's tunic. Glancing at his new blade, Wufei was surprised to see it was already clean.
"I am fine," he commented. "Thank you for your assistance,"
"Hn. No thanks are necessary," the pilot responded. Taking a moment to observe the other youth, he noted that he too was Chinese, with the same dark eyes that Wufei had. Wisps of hair had come lose and hung around his face. The delicate strength of the boy reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think of who. His head suddenly began throbbing, and he wondered if the warrior would introduce himself and his young companion.
When no names were forthcoming Wufei decided to begin. "Do you have a name, or should I just call you warrior?" he asked, noticing that the other swordsman was staring at him.
The boy started and blushed. "Forgive my manners," he apologized. "You bear a strong resemblance to someone I know. It was unexpected."
How odd, mused Wufei. We are both experiencing deja vous. And he sounds to be only about twelve or thirteen, While he knew it was possible to be an accomplished fighter at that age, he himself had been, it still caught him off guard.
"My name is. . ." he began only to be cut off by a high pitched voice from upstairs.
"Mei, Mei," cried the child as he came pounding down the stairs. He leapt over the bodies at the bottom, scabbard and scrolls clutched to his chest. "He's the one! He's got the sword," he exclaimed, panting for breath. "Meiying, he has the Horacyrus Blade."
Wufei looked at the young boy in curiosity. His straight black hair tangled around his chin and stuck to his lips. He also bore a strong resemblance to the warrior. Thinking of the warrior, he recalled the name the boy had used. Meiying? That's a woman's name, he thought in astonishment, barely managing to erase the expression from his face before he ~she~ turned back to him, glare lighting up her dark eyes.
"You have the Horacyrus Blade?" she asked in an angry voice. "How do you know, Liko?"
"I saw him take it," he said with a grin. "Here's the scabbard, and the scrolls, see?"
The girl examined the items carefully then looked at Wufei with an expression between anger and awe. "~You~ are the one the prophecies speak of?" she asked in a stunned voice.
Wufei raised a questioning eyebrow. Horacyrus Blade? Prophecies? "I'm afraid that I have no idea what you are talking about," he said honestly.
"Everyone's heard of the Horacyrus Blade - that's why the South Demoans destroyed the temple," the boy said. "Where're you from anyway?"
"L-5," he responded hesitantly, realizing that it would likely mean as much to them as the Horacyrus Blade meant to him. Their blank looks confirmed his suspicions.
"What does it mean that I have this sword?" he asked. "It was just laying there on the stand after all." Though, if it is important as they say, I don't know why it was still there, he thought privately.
The other two just stared at him, the girl with suspicion, the boy with disbelief. "Why, it means you're the Hidden Prince, who'll help save us from the Demons, of course."
TBC
Next chapter, some familiar faces.
--Hana-chan