Mark of the Phoenix (A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic) by Shea McIntee (Sunhawk)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or plot devices taken from Ranma 1/2, although I've taken some liberties with some character histories and details... (shrug). I'm poor, and in college... have mercy! Comments welcome, and flames used to roast long pig for my pet saber-toothed tiger.

Ranma walked down the passageway that led to the Room of Change. It had a different name now, he supposed, but the old name still fit.

It's origins were a mystery even to him. When he and Saffron were young, many centuries ago, it was already ancient and it's birth long-buried in the mists of time. The dragon and the phoenix, with the Kinjakan and Kajakan, were there, standing eternally, the first time he set his eyes on the room.

Perhaps whoever, or whatever had birthed he and his twin had also created the room. Perhaps not; his memories of that time were not entirely clear, and perhaps never would be. It was a moot point now, anyway.

Whereas Saffron needed the Room to complete his more powerful metamorphosis and mature entirely, Ranma normally changed on his own in a much more gradual process spanning the first decade and a half after each rebirth as a human. It was, he admitted, far easier than Saffron's, but he ended up not quite as powerful.

However, this time he had had to push hard and hasten the process drastically, which was something he only had to do twice before in his millenia-long existance, and was risky, to say the least. Thus, in order to complete the frozen transformation and regain the rest of his heritage, he needed this room.

He entered the Tap Room, as they called it now. Both dragon and phoenix stood proudly on guard, each holding a key that controlled the magical waters of Jusendo.

He crouched and jumped, landing on the back of the phoenix, and walked to where the kinjakan stood out of the giant head. He hesitated then, bracing himself. This wouldn't feel good.

He grabbed hold of the staff, and gasped in shock as agony raced through his veins. Liquid fire burned throughout his body as changes that would normally take place over fifteen years in a growing body occured in a matter of moments. He could feel the flames filling him, shifting him, and he was dimly aware, over the pain of the transformation, of the familiar sense of the energy of his heritage filling him.

He shuddered as the process completed itself, and dropped, panting and exhausted, to sleep upon the head of the phoenix.

****

Ranma yawned and stretched as the world came back into focus around him. His body still ached in remembrance, but that was quickly fading as the full strength of his regenerative powers, admittedly not quite as powerful as his twin's, danced through his blood, soothing pain and bringing calm to tortured muscles.

He focused and shifted, large wings of white feathers with hints of corruscating rainbow around the edges sprouting from his back. He jumped off the giant head and floated down, circling around in a giant circle like a hawk, stretching his wings and tasting the currents. He cupped his wings and stopped in midair a few feet above the ground, stalling for a moment and then dropping gently to the ground.

'Perfect.'

He held up his hand, clenched in a tight fist, and slowly opened it to reveal a glowing ball of ethereal energy, focused from his aura as some martial artists can do, but with floating sparks coming off of it. He grinned, and tossed it at the wall, leaving a burnt mark on the hard stone.

He then settled into a loose stance, and started a slow, yet complex kata, or form, which slowly built up in speed and intensity. His aura flared around him and grew and changed unitl it resembled a bird made of flames gathered around him.

Then he took it to the air, kicking, blocking, and striking at invisible foes, swooping and diving at targets seen only by him, and using his chi and the air currents to reverse his direction suddenly in a manner that would make a physicist boggle, for hour after hour.

Suddenly he swooped upwards, and burst into real flame, changing his shape until a giant red-gold bird, with perhaps a ten-meter wingspan, posed where a winged humanoid flew.

He stretched his wings and settled to the ground, still holding the pose, floating gently using only the power of his aura, slowly shrinking, flames dying down, until a human Ranma, no wings on his back, stood, breathing heavily.

'Whew... a bit out of shape, but I still got it!'

And, wiping his damp forehead with a sleeve, he exited the Room of Change.

**** Ranma walked into the room where Saffron waited. His brother raised an eyebrow at his entrance.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Good. Everything's intact and okay."

He grinned.

"Your own Change is in a year or so, isn't it?"

He received a nod.

"Good. I'll try to make it back in time. I wouldn't want to miss it."

"And little sister?"

Ranma sighed.

"I don't know. If I find her, sure."

There was a knocking at the door.

"Come in," Saffron called.

The door opened, and a young woman, winged, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, stepped into the room and bowed.

"You asked for me, Lord Saffron?"

"Ah, yes. Kiima."

Ranma turned around. So this was his help? He looked her up and down. Quite pretty; he suspected his brother was STILL trying to find someone to interest him; even after centuries of futile efforts, Ranma doubted that he'd give up now. She did seem to have some good martial training, and had impressive potential and discipline... she'd make a good student.

Saffron turned back to Ranma and raised an eyebrow.

"She'll do adequately," Ranma said drying, giving him the hairy eyeball.

Saffron smirked. He was definitely up to something.

Kiima, on the other hand, visibly bristled. Here was a total stranger acting overly-familiar with Lord Saffron, and had pronounced her as merely "adequate" for whatever his purposes here. Who did he think he was?

Saffron looked at the two and continued to smirk.

'They'll get along fine... and maybe I can tie Severen down at last!'

****

As they left the mountain the next morning, Ranma could tell that Kiima was bothered by something, and he could guess what.

They flew as soon as it got light enough, and Ranma watched her carefully, evaluating her.

They stopped to eat and rest, and Kiima cleared her throat, catching his attention. She'd be stewing over something, most likely. Finally, she burst out.

"Who are you? You didn't have wings yesterday, tet you flew today as if you'd done it all your life! Where'd they come from?"

He smirked.

"I hid them. It's not that hard to do, really... would you like to learn?"

She ignored the question.

"And how dare you act like you did in front of Lord Saffron! Who do you think you are? What right do you have to be so arrogant towards him?"

He contined to smirk. He'd tell her later... this was amusing... and she looked rather cute when she was upset.

"I have every right, being who I am."

"Well, who exactly is that?" she snapped.

"I'll tell you tonight, after dinner," he said, and prompt launched back into the sky. Startled, she awkwardly followed, cursing him loud enough for him to hear. He smirk grew into a full-fledged grin.

****

As they finished dinner, which consisted of some vegetables mixed with the meat of an unlucky wild pig, he sat back and stretched, and then looked over at the girl sitting across the fire, glaring at him.

"As I recall, you had some questions? Hmm?"

"What are you doing? Who are you? Why am I here? How-"

"One at a time, one at a time, fledgling."

She bristled and glared daggers at him for that, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. She took a deep breath, and started more slowly.

"First, who are you to treat Lord Saffron as an equal?"

"Do you want the quick answer, or the long one?"

"The quick one."

"I'm his brother."

She gaped, clearly to shocked to even get enraged.

"Do you want to hear the long version?"

She dumbly nodded, and he started his tale.

****

"Saffron and I were born almost three thousand years ago in a small village in the mountains a little ways north of here. We were brought into the world together: twins, although we don't look that much alike, born five minutes apart, Saffron first. We were the sons of the village's priestess and healer, and our father, so it was said, was the sun itself. The claim didn't seem that unreasonable at the time, since all of the men of the village were too in aw of our mother to do anything, and strangers were few and far between. Later events gave much validity to that view.

We were different almost from birth: Saffron was born with wings, and I myself was marked with hair as red as flame and eyes as blue as they are now. Consequently, between our obvious differences and the story of our origins, we were regarded with almost as much awe as our mother. There were whispers of omens and "favor of the gods," which could be considered typical behavior of the time.

We were lucky to be born in our particular village; many other places would have killed us or labeled us as 'freaks' or 'demons.'

So we grew up in a fairly idyllic community; there was always work that needed to be done, but it was never too much, and everyone pitched in when needed. Some people gathered wild fruits and vegetables, while others tended small gardens or plots of land sowed with rice or other grains, held in pockets of fertile soil in the mountainous terrain. A few, and we were among that number, spent time hunting for wild game, and ranged sometimes miles from the village, bringing back often-needed meat.

We were on a particularly long trip when we found the mountain which you now call home. It's name, 'Phoenix Mountain," came later.

Being curious and young, we explored the natural caverns that threaded the mountain, and came across an odd place: the Room of Change, or, as you call it now, the Tap Room.

At that time, the dragon and phoenix statues, with the keys, were there, just as they are now. Saffron felt compelled to stay and study them further, while I took the rest of the day to hunt and explore more of the caverns.

When I came back, the cavern was full of steaming water, and Saffron was nowhere to be found; there was only a large egg in a pool of hot water.

As you can probably guess, Saffron had undergone his Change, most likely through instinct. Soon after, I myself likewise transformed (although without the room; my transformation is purely the result of physical maturation), and we took some time to explore our new forms and powers, guided by our instincts.

We were similar in many ways, but there were subtle differences in our abilities. Both of us could change our form, traveling as a winged human, a flame-colored bird, or a giant phoenix. I, in addition, could make my wings disappear, appearing, more or less, as a normal human.

We could both summon and control fire, although Saffron's talents in that area surpassed mine significantly. We could regenrate from nearly any wound, no matter how grievious or lethal-appearing, and neither of us could truly die; we were both immortal and unaging. If Saffron's body is ever destroyed, he would immediately reincarnate on the spot as himself as a baby, while I would be reborn as a normal-appearing human, to a human couple, after approximately nine months.

We returned shortly after to the viallge, and apparently just in time. Some of the other tribes in the region were becoming aggressive and war-like, and with the arrival of new metals, bronze and iron, the village council had decided that it would be best to relocate elsewhere, preferably some place that was defensible and hidden.

We had a perfect place; the mountain.

To cut a long story short, we convinced the council, and led our tribe to our new home. Time was taken to carve new chambers and passageways, and we moved in.

Saffron eventually assumed leadership over the tribe, with my support, and the council gradually became an advisory body. Meanwhile, I spent most of my time wandering parts of the world, periodically visiting.

Our sister was born almost a century later. We had gone down to the Room of Change to discuss possible ways to heat the mountain when we found a largish egg, similar to Saffron's when he changed (except in size - it was much smaller), sitting in front of the phoenix statue. When it hatched, we took her in and adopted her as our sister, as she was clearly of the phoenix blood-line; she had abilities similar to our own, and appeared muc has we do.

However, when she died, she reincarnated in a different fashion than either of us: she would stay dormant for a century, and then would come back to life.

A little over ninety-nine years ago, our sister died. Soon, it will be time for her to awaken again.

****

As Ranma ended his story, he met Kiima's eyes.

"Any further questions?"

She looked dazed, and mutely shook her head.

He smiled. "Give it some time. In the meantime, try to get some sleep; we start early tomorrow."

And with that, he lay back and closed his eyes.

Author's Notes: Whew! This'll be the fourth or so chapter I've typed up today... comments/criticism welcome at deus_ex_mach42@hotmail.com