Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. A few others are mine. The story below is for entertainment purposes only, and not to be used commercially. ...Obviously.
"Learning Curve"
Part XXIV (v1.3)
by: J. Wagner
Her name was Kiima, Captain of the Imperial Guard.
Kiima was the daughter of Tandorri, the last Great Caretaker. In her youth, in her earliest memories, she had beheld the face of her King and her God, and every night, before she closed her eyes, she saw that face and every time was like a new epiphany. By her God's order, she had been trained by the finest of Phoenix warriors, and given access to all the mythical and mystical information and learning the Tribe had unraveled and gleaned over lifetimes of work and conquest.
She was trained to fight and lead in equal measure, and to pave the way for the resurrection of her Lord God back to prominence. In her time as Captain of the Elite Guard, she had been accused of spoiling the neonate Saffron, and exposing him to danger unnecessarily, but they did not understand the proper reverence the Godchild was due. She could not refuse his wishes, no matter how outrageous or inappropriate they were. In addition, she secretly hoped to cultivate a more loving Saffron, so that all could know the grace and majesty of his Rule and his Word. For the last fifteen years, she had been the de facto ruler of the Phoenix Tribe, through its Elite Guard, separated by a generation from the cowards and sycophants that had surrendered their dreams of Empire thirty years ago.
She was a woman of destiny.
She had great plans for the future, both of her people, and for the world.
She had thought she was prepared for any eventuality.
She was wrong.
"What the hell do you mean we're being attacked?!"
"Mistress, we have several reports of a great airship advancing on the Mountain. Old Phoenix Village is also being attacked... Several patrols have already been wiped out!"
"An airship?" Kiima's eyes widened. "The Lucky Gods! They dare to attack us?"
"Kiima!"
"Lord... Lord Saffron?" Kiima spun around, at the approach of the godchild. "You should not be outside of your quarters."
"I go where I wish to go." The boy stomped his foot, and waved the ever present Kinjakan staff in her face. "What is this I hear of an attack?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with, my Lord."
"It had better not be," Saffron said with a petulant scowl. "It's interrupting my sleep."
"Return to bed, Your Majesty. I will take care of the fools who dare to attack us."
"I expect to hear of it later, Kiima," Saffron said and gave her a hard glare that, for a moment, reminded her of the face of the Old King. It also sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"Lieutenant!" She whirled on the young warrior who had brought her the news in the first place. "Assemble every able bodied warrior! Every one!"
"Captain Kiima?"
"I want that airship intercepted before it can engage the Fortress Defenses! They would not begin such an attack unless they had some new way of blasting through them!" Kiima drew her sword. "Now! To arms!"
Miles away, on approach to Phoenix Mountain, Bishamonten looked through his binoculars, and smirked. Behind him, Kirin stood, impatient. The young Prince was none too pleased with the entire situation. He had never really had the heart for true fighting such as in war, and truly disliked the idea of using the Lucky Gods' precious airship as a decoy to draw the attention and ire of the Phoenix. However, Bishmonten and the older Lucky Gods were anything if not for the destruction, or at least containment, of the Phoenix Tribe. Bishamonten, Lucky God of War and Defense, especially, seemed to hate them with a passion the Prince could not understand.
"Perhaps we should go below decks?" Lychee came up from behind Kirin, and rubbed his shoulders. "My Prince?"
"Kirin has taken the Lucky Gods Clan into this conflict. He will see it through."
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"Wise, no. Sure, never more so." Kirin pivoted, and took her shoulders in his hands. "You, however, must go. Understood?"
Lychee nodded, and gave him a deep kiss, before heading down.
"They're coming, just like Prince Herb planned," Bishamonten said as he let the binoculars rest on their strap around his neck. "Hundreds of them, in the first wave alone."
"Reverse the engines! Slow to starboard!" Ebitan called out, "Bishamonten, I shall handle the defense at the rear of the ship."
"Take care." The tall Lucky God nodded, once, to the shorter one, and he was off. Ebiten had the unenviable job of keeping the ship's maneuvers outside the range of the Phoenix Mountain defenses, and preventing any flanking attacks from breaking through and damaging the more vulnerable rear end of the ship. Bishamonten's job, however, was an easy one.
Survive.
Hold off the enraged Bird People.
"Archers!" The God of War shouted. Behind him, nearly a hundred buckler-armed men from Togenkyou, bows held at the ready, took positions in the middle of the ship. They were organized into ten units of ten each, in firing positions to cover nearly every approach to the deck of the ship.
"Guns!" Bishamonten roared, and he heard the satisfying click of armed weapons along the sides of the massive vessel. They were recent additions, courtesy of the Jyusenkyou Preservation Society: several powerful .50 caliber machine guns, in armored swivel mounts along the hull. Most importantly, there was the matter of the twin grenade launchers mounted to the keel of the ship. They were the airship's trump card, however.
"Stay in position! Hold where you stand, cover each other, and maybe you'll live through this!"
The Lucky God of War and Defense ground his teeth together, and watched the approaching swarm with something akin to relish. His battle senses were kicking in, and he could feel the energy of his Ki creeping up his neck, along his arms, and into the base of his brain. Every thought was becoming focused, every move like flowing water. The binoculars were of no use, now - he could see all he needed to see with his eyes. The skies were dark with enemies.
"Wait for it."
He didn't even have to think, the words came of their own accord. His eyes darted through the hailstorm of Phoenix warriors, analyzing and sensing on an instinctual basis. There were patterns to it. Disciplined maneuvers he bore the responsibility to determine, expect, and counter. There! Branching off from the right, heading up... no doubt catching a powerful updraft he mentally noted for later. An updraft would lead to an inclination for the winged freaks to attack, and angle they would move towards given a choice.
They were operating in staggered V formations, mostly. On the edges, groups of four were operating in schwarm formations, a tactic introduced by the Old King Saffron in the last war, from lessons gleaned in World War Two. Bishamonten was intimately familiar with them, and the havoc they could cause, especially on stationary defenses. It was a tactic the Phoenix King had used to great effect on the dark day that was the Battle of Soryn...
The V formations would hit the front, drawing fire and swooping down quickly, before circling for another attack, and then another, before closing to melee, their javelins wreaking terrible injury on those they target even before they got a chance for close combat. Behind them, fast firing Phoenix archers and crossbowmen would rain saturation down on their enemies, and when things became a melee, they would close for more accurate supporting fire. Meanwhile, on the flanks, the Phoenix warriors in schwarm, many with explosives or guns, would hit from behind in twos, half attacking, half covering and harrying, hoping to sow chaos and disorganization.
"Wait for it... Melee troops, at the ready!" He looked over his shoulder, for an instant, to make sure that the Musk swordsmen were ready to charge forward, supporting and leading their Togenkyou cousins in the coming battle.
"Archers...!" Bishamonten held up his hand, and heard the bowstrings of a hundred eager fighters tense in anticipation. "Archers..."
Now.
Now!
NOW!!
"ARCHERS... FIRE! ...FIRE!!! Let the skies above rain STEEL and CRY BLOOD!!"
***
Inside Phoenix Mountain
Herb paused.
"The battle has begun." He licked his dry lips, nervous anticipation creeping up his spine. "Quick!"
The Musk Prince kept running, leading them up the long flight of steps. Toma kept pace, his two ever-present bodyguards Toristan and Wonton just behind him. Taking the rear, Ukyou and Mint covered them and made up the rest of the tiny strike group Herb had chosen to penetrate and cut into Phoenix Mountain. Their mission was to make their way to the Imperial Sanctuary of the Phoenix King Saffron and kidnap him. The Phoenix would diminish and exhaust themselves against the Musk fortifications trying to get him back, weakening themselves significantly in the process.
Or that was the plan.
"Faster! This is the way!" Herb made a left when the path branched, without even thinking about which was to go. The endless flight of steps seemed to go on forever, and it was testing even a superior martial artist's endurance. Toma and his group were tiring slightly, and though Herb and Mint didn't show even small signs of fatigue, they slowed down to stay together. There was a damn good chance that there'd be fighting involved when they approached the top, and it wasn't wise to totally exhaust themselves running p the steps.
"Prince Herb! How do you know the way, anyway?" Toristan asked, in between breaths.
"This place... was once the Jusendo Observatory." Herb huffed. "A Musk outpost."
"How did it...?"
"Bad things just have a way of happening," herb said and directed them to a quick right, down a long hall. "Enough of past events... we have precious little time."
Toristan had no more to say of it, but Ukyou could tell Herb was hiding something. There was an almost... guilty tone to his voice, beyond its evasiveness, that she couldn't quite pin down. Why would Herb feel guilty? Was it that he really didn't like what he was going to do, or already did? It was possible, but not likely. He'd never hesitated to deride the Phoenix before, and his hatred of Saffron was almost tangible at times. Then, there was a shout of surprise, and the thick of battle crowded out all other thoughts.
Ukyou's battle spatula was out in a flash, as what could only be described as... inhuman creatures, flocked out of doors towards them, wielding spears and swords. They were like men, and women, except with brightly colored wings sprouting from their shoulders, horrible clawed hands, and talon-like feet. They made some sort of alarmed screeching howl that filled the wide hall, and without realizing it, Ukyou took a few frightened steps back. Mint jumped in front of her; just as a wave of needle sharp feathers filled the air. The young Musk's sword was moving at impossible speed, intercepting the missiles before they could reach her.
To her sides, Wonton, Toristan, and Toma surged forward. Wonton simply plowed through the hailstorm of feathers, while Toristan's cloak opened up, and he unleashed a wave of his own-feathered darts at the enemy. Toma skidded to the side, sword drawn and, somehow, catching fire. His feet barely left the ground, yet he moved with an unbelievable grace and speed that belied his youth. While Wonton's massive left arm smashed an unsuspecting Phoenix guard into the wall, and Toristan took out his own wickedly curved blade, Toma claimed the first victory of the day, driving his sword almost up to the hilt in one of the enemy. The Prince of Togenkyou stepped back, his sword slipping out of flesh, blood slouching off its clean metal, with a surprised look on his face.
Ukyou understood completely.
He'd never killed before.
The young Prince had practiced, and fought, and learned the maneuvers... but he had never truly tasted blood, or snuffed out a life by his own hand. She wondered if he realized how in over his head they both were. Herb reacted instantly, pushing Toma aside while another Phoenix warrior charged, spearhead ready to impale the young man from Togenkyou. The Musk Prince was too fast, however, and in a single motion yanked the weapon from the Birdman's hands and snapped it in half.
Setting his feet apart, Herb's battle aura flexed, for only a second, before settling back into his body. With a roar, electric Ki erupted from his arms into pulsing energy blades. Pouring more effort into it, the jaded lines of Ki snapped into place, forming deadly blades of ethereal energy.
"Hitou Ryu Zan Ha!!"
He thrust his hands forward and across his chest, and crescent waves of bladed Ki tore from his arms, and into two armored Phoenix warriors. The first was hit in the chest, and had just managed to get his arms forward to attempt a block. They were obviously at least somewhat skilled in Ki, because the creature only lost its arms, and not its life, before it flew back against the wall, crumpled and unconscious. The second was not as fortunate, and slid in half at the waist, falling lifelessly to the ground, one arm twitching.
"Oh... oh my god." Ukyou gulped, tasting bile. She'd never imagined... It'd be so red. So vividly red...
"Damn it!" Herb cursed, and ran back to her, taking her roughly by the shoulders. "Ukyou! Ukyou! Damn it woman! Control yourself! Are you a warrior or a housewife?!"
"I'm... a warrior." She looked up from the ground, into his eyes, still trying to hold herself together. One thought kept running through her mind: Do Not Look. Look at anything else.
"My woman." He leaned in closer, talking softly into her left ear. "I'm here. All right? Calm down."
"What am I...?" Toma gasped.
"Silence!" Herb roared, and it was so. "Mint!"
"Yes, Lord Herb?" Ukyou's ever present bodyguard stepped forward.
"Get Ukyou out of here. I'm entrusting you alone with her personal safety. Rendezvous with Sumac and the others in the Old Village below."
"But, Herb... I... I cannot just abandon..."
"You will do as I command, Mint!" Herb fixed him with a glare terrible in its intensity. "Do as I say! NOW!"
"Y... yes." Mint gulped, grabbed Ukyou's arm, and headed back the way they came.
"I know you will not fail me!" Herb called out to them, the quickly turned to Toma. "Cousin..."
"Herb." Toma cringed, expecting to be chewed out for hesitating. He just wasn't ready for...
"Cousin... Cover my back. I'm trusting you," he said and waited for the Togenkyou Prince to nod affirmative. Herb then addressed Toristan and Wonton, "You two, follow me. Stick close. It only gets worse from here on."
***
Sumac always liked to think of himself as a little slice of hell on earth when it came to fighting. Standing over his latest victim, the bladed end of his polearm dug deeply in his defeated opponent's abdomen, the elder wolf-Musk gave it a slight twist, evoking a scream of pain from his prone target. Leaning over slightly, looking into the man's eyes, Sumac smiled.
"I've always heard that gaping stomach wounds are the most painful... horrible... way to die." With a soft laugh, Sumac drew back and pulled the blade out of the beaten and bleeding Phoenix Warrior's gut. "Do me a favor. When you get to hell, tell 'em Sumac sent you, ok?"
With a feral snarl, the wolf-blood turned to the greater melee all around him. The entire Old Village was aflame, thanks to his handpicked terror troops. He'd trained each and every one of them for this moment. The support of the Togenkyou Auxiliaries and reserves was just gravy. Not necessary, but not exactly unwanted either. It'd have been nice if the airship could handle carrying a division of heavy assault Musk into battle here, but it would only have been overkill anyway.
"Then again... I love overkill!" Sumac charged into the thick of the remaining resistance fighting. It had greatly decreased, as those who fought back died at the hands of Musk Steel, and those who could not fight took to wing and tried to make their escape, running the gauntlet of Togenkyou archers ordered to target anyone attempting to flee the burning pyre that was the Old Phoenix Village.
Generations ago, this had been the original village where the peasants had developed into the Phoenix Tribe, as a direct result of the Jusendo Observatory and the Cursed Spring there. They drank the water, and over time, took on birdlike traits. For a time, they had continued to live in the village, before the First Saffron had organized construction on the ruins of the freshly conquered Jusendo Observatory and Phoenix Mountain. Over time, the Phoenix had tunneled into the mountain, and made it their home and their fortress, but the peasantry... they still worked the fields down below, like ungifted 'landlings.' So the Old village had survived into the present.
Until now; now, it burned.
Herb had given Sumac total authority to get as much attention from the Phoenix Legions as possible in his attack on the place, allowing him and his little cadre to work their way in and get to Saffron himself. It was an opportunity Sumac had looked forward to with great relish and anticipation. He was given a free hand to cause as much havoc and destruction as he wanted... to splurge, so to speak.
And splurge he was.
Swinging his weapon in a great arc, he cut a weary and wounded Phoenix man in half just above the second rib bone. The heavy, strong tempered Musk Steel cut through even tough flesh, bone and sinew with ease, and Sumac was hard pressed to find another target. His personal troops were moving about like true predators, sniffing out and destroying any opposition, or anything surviving, with terrible efficiency.
"Bah!" Sumac called out with a snarl, fighting back the urge to howl. "This place is dead! Fall back! Let these scum bury their dead when they get the courage to return to the ground!"
"Aye!" A chorus of voices returned from all around him.
Truthfully, the Phoenix warriors were no cowards. They had fallen back to concentrate on driving the greater threat, the Lucky Gods airship, back from Phoenix Mountain itself. Sumac knew that the airship was only fighting a holding action, and that the full weight of the Phoenix legions would force it to withdraw. When that time came, large swaths of otherwise occupied enemies would descend down on Sumac's own forces, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.
Then he heard it.
"Fall back I said!" Sumac narrowed his eyes and looked up at the rising base of Phoenix Mountain. Overhead, and obscured by the fire of the village, something quietly ascended amid the chaos, going around to the far side of the Mountain. Sumac would barely have given the helicopter any attention, except that he knew what it was, where it was going, and when it was going to make its entrance in the battle. He gave the black silhouette a quick two-fingered salute, before going back to his troops.
"Go get 'em."
***
Japan
Deep in the Minami Alps, the air was still enough to hear a pine needle fall to the earth. Or nearly so. There was silence aside from a few small woodland birds, and the sound of the wind moving through endless waves of branches, and lastly, the even, deep breathing of two martial artists in training. Assorted gear lay around them in a relatively neat fashion, and two packs rested meters away, each leaning against a different tree.
In the center of it all, the two were like statues, motionless and cross-legged, facing each other, one hand forward, one hand to the side and in the air, curled into a fist. Only the slow intake of breath from one signaled any evidence of life. His pigtail crept over his shoulder blades as he let air in, but otherwise his body was perfectly still, and his mind focused on his opponent entirely.
The other martial artist's right arm, drawn back as it was, tensed for a second, before releasing the energy back into the body. The bandanna'ed one was not quite ready, it seemed, and as his eyes refocused on Ranma, searching for any signs of intent or weakness to exploit, a single oversized canine poked out over his lower lip. Smirking, Ryouga regarded his pigtailed foe.
"Enough! I have you now, Saotome... You have no chance to survive."
"You're all talk, Hibiki. Put up or shut up."
"I'll admit your record is impressive." Ryouga's fisted hand clenched even tighter. "But I can read your moves perfectly now. Admit it! Your power is nothing to me now!"
Ranma laughed.
"Ha! You fool! Did you truly think you had seen the extent of by ability?!"
"What? Impossible!"
"Yes! You think your power is greater than mine, but I have been hiding my own power! Until now! Now, I unleash it on you! Prepare yourself, Hibiki!"
"Very well," Ryouga's hand shot forward, just as Ranma's did
"Die!!"
"Eat it!!"
...
"Rock beats scissors!" Ryouga shook his fist for emphasis.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ranma grumbled. "You win this round. I'm still ahead by seven points."
"Again, then!"
"Yes!"
The two got back into position, one hand forward, one held back to strike. Ranma opted for a slightly different version this time around, and Ryouga noted it. He kept a mental inventory of his opponent's posture, blood flow, breathing, muscle tension, and other physiological factors his enhanced senses were able to glean at the range they were from each other. The two warrior's respective battle auras had been 'active' and subdued for nearly the entire day, and it was beginning to get mentally taxing keeping it in check and under control, while concentrating on determining Ranma's next move.
More important than simple observation was the cultivation of an expanded version of a martial artist's natural ability to sense approaching danger. Ryouga was well aware that Ranma had an excellent sense of approaching danger, except when it came to Akane (or perhaps he simply ignored it in those cases)... regardless, Saotome Ranma was a difficult man to catch by surprise. Ryouga had always been a halfhearted ambusher. He always liked the surprise and cunning of a good ambush attack, but equally disliked the cowardice of it. It was why he usually coupled a surprise attack with some sort of verbal warning, to get the best of both worlds. Though, in reality, it was more like a poor compromise.
His danger sense had become steadily similarly well developed over time. Water related attacks and hazards still gave him a hard time, especially in Nerima, but most physical attacks he had a good chance of 'feeling' before they got him. The sense had actually dulled recently, as a result of his body hardening, and his creation of reactive clothing in the form of the Tekimen Kongou Gishu. So reawakening and improving on it had been one of his primary objectives when he finally got time for a good, long, hard training trip to the mountains.
Granted, using a game of 'Scissors, Paper, and Rock' wouldn't normally fall under the category of eliciting a response from anyone's danger sense, in practice, it did the trick, and was far less exhausting and distracting than outright fighting. Already, he could feel his aura and his Ki reaching out, sufficing the air around them like an invisible web. He could feel the buzzing of a fly, somewhere to his right, like seeing something in the periphery of one's vision. His eyes, his mind, his Ki... all were centered on Ranma, now. Trying to predict his next move, not just based on something as mundane as visual cues, but an almost spiritual ability to predict.
He saw it for a heartbeat.
A flash, like a picture... but it went by too quickly to see, even with the mind.
"Draw time, Saotome!" Ryouga finalized his own move, and snorted loudly.
"Is that so?"
Ranma's own smug smile unnerved the bandanna'ed martial artist.
"Taste... my WRATH!!!"
...
"Paper."
"Paper."
"Damn it." Ryouga shook his head and pulled his hand back. "I was sure I had you that time."
"Score is still one hundred and fifty eight to one hundred and fifty one."
"Do you know we've been at this for almost eight hours?"
"Hey," Ranma said as he shrugged. "As long as I'm winning, I don't care. You wanna quit now?"
"No! I'll beat you yet, you stinking raisin thief!"
"You're all talk, Hibiki!" Ranma smirked and drew his hand back. Ryouga may be all talk, but his training exercises were far from useless. Of course, he'd have to stay at least a step or two ahead of Ryouga, given the latter's more impressive physical prowess, but finesse with Ki had never been Ryouga's strength. He was more of a brute force type person, in mind and in body. They were about to start another round when ...something interrupted. It was like a sharp smell: horseradish or something similar, and Ranma's concentration was thrown off.
"Did you feel that?" Ryouga asked, looking to the west.
"Yeah..." Ranma sniffed, clearing his nose. "Weird."
***
Saffron jumped up out of bed.
"Who dares...?"
The group of men advanced.
"Stay back!" Saffron held forward the Kinjakan. "Guards! Kiima! Madras! Kulcha!"
Behind the group, someone moved, letting out a low groan.
"Madras!" Saffron recognized the old man's voice well enough and hissed at the advancing group of men. "You'll pay for this!!"
Spinning the Kinjakan, Saffron snapped the weapon back, letting the disk shoot out in a blur. One of the cloaked men tried to block the attack, and even grabbed the weapon, only to be carried by it off the Imperial balcony and down out of sight. Wielding the rest of the staff, the boy king took a step back. In the distance, an explosion sounded, and dark smoke wafted through the air. The lead man reached into his cloak, and pulled out a weapon, an unusual outsider weapon... the others were quick to follow, taking aim at the stunned Saffron.
"Wait... what are you...?"
The staccato ring of silenced gunfire cut him off.
***
"DIE already!!!"
Herb's palms lowered, ghostly wisps of smoke wafting between his fingers. His breathing was heavy, but the Musk Prince was uninjured, aside from a small cut on his arm. Around him, crushed and burning Phoenix warriors, members of Kiima's Elite Imperial Guard, collapsed at his feet. The stench of burnt flesh was almost unbearable. Resistance had increased dramatically as they got closer to Saffron. Much more than Herb had expected. Either the airship had been driven off early, or the warriors in the Old Village had been driven back.
Which would make it much more difficult to escape, either way.
"You'll not get past me!" Kiima threw aside the blasted and half melted shield she had been holding, and brought her sword forward.
"Infuriating woman," Herb spat off to the side as he said it, and built up his Ki for another blast. He'd been fighting against this damn woman's delaying action for too long, and reinforcements kept pouring down from above in the massive cavern where Kiima had intercepted them.
Wonton was badly wounded, but continuing on, heedless of his own injuries, and the hundreds of cuts and bleeding slashes he'd suffered. The poor bastard even had four arrows buried in his chest and arms, but steadfastly kept going. Toristan was slightly better off, because he was quicker, and less prone to rushing bull-headed into the attack. His sword was bloody, and his breathing erratic. His ever-present mask was splashed with crimson, and cracked near the left side.
"Herb!" Toma jumped forward, the boy's clothes torn and ragged, but his voice steady. "Go forward! I will deal with this woman! Toristan! Wonton! Hold the bridge, no matter the cost!"
Herb gave the younger Prince a quick nod of thanks, flared his Ki, and took to the air. Kiima jumped to try and get to him, but a torrent of 'flame' from Prince Toma cut her short of her goal. Wings flapping furiously, she turned around to try and reorient herself at the Musk Prince.
"Thousand Wings of the Seabird!!"
"Enough!" Herb's hands glowed with power, as he twisted in midair. "Dragon Spirit Flight!!"
As the Musk Prince moved, turning upwards, flaming Ki spheres bounced off the walls and from his hand into the incoming Ki enhanced feathers, taking them out one by one in a flurry of tiny immolating explosions. In seconds, Herb had neutralized the entire attack, and was nearly across to the other side of the cavern.
"I won't allow you to escape!" Kiima's wings spread for another attack, when something hard and fast plowed into her back. Spinning uncontrollably, she landed in a heap before collecting herself and flipping up onto her feet. Staring at her with determination in his eyes, Toma held his sword forward, flames lapping up all around him like great tendrils.
"Worry about yourself." Toma ground his teeth together. "Worry about ME!"
"Landling Boy," Kiima's said and her own sword shot forward. "You can't even begin to comprehend what I'm going to do to you for this."
As the two leaders clashed, blade on blade, Wonton bared his teeth, and backhanded yet another attacking Phoenix warrior. Though stunned, the birdman returned with a vengeance, and two of his comrades, short swords and claws driving the large dog-man back. Wonton's open palms, despite immensely thick skin, and two layers of toughened leather armor, were little more than a bloody mess as he frantically parried the attacks.
Toristan saw his comrade in trouble, but had little time to even contemplate going to his aid. He was hard pressed simply to match Kiima's Imperial Guards, and just barely pivoted out of the way as a screeching female with viciously glowing eyes made a mad lunge at him with a sword from the side. If they had come at them just a few at a time it would be one thing, but as it was, he and Wonton were holding off nearly six zealous guardsmen, just by themselves, while at the same time looking out for arrows from above.
Unfortunately, Kiima and her cadre had caught them in the worst possible place. They were fighting in what seemed to be a huge atrium, crisscrossed by long wooden poles, which provided the only means of crossing, short of flight. If they had been fighting in a hallway, it'd be far easier. Worse, they couldn't even move around, jumping from one pole to the other, without losing their way.
And where was his Prince?
"Damn it!" Toristan surged forward, overcoming the resistance of a determined guardsman's blade with brute strength, pushing her back and away. "Prince Toma! Where...?"
"I have you now!" Toma back flipped away, and off the back of a distracted bow-wielding Phoenix. He took to the air naturally, sword gleaming in the half-light. Left hand forward, he concentrated, and projected the image of a flurry of sword-like Ki projectiles leaving his palm.
"What in Heaven?" Kiima balked, and threw her wings forward, backing off and firing her signature attack. "Thousand Wings of the Seabird!!"
Toma smirked, and saw that her attacks were trying to intercept his own, except that his 'attack' was actually an illusion. Without himself as the target, it was child's play to avoid the razor sharp projectiles. Dodging and weaving amid the chaos caused by Kiima's frantic attack, Toma spun into his own signature attack.
"Yogan Ran Digi Dan!!"
Toma thrust the illusion attack out with his sword, unleashing fiery fury in a broad swath in front of him. Unfortunately, Kiima was quick, damn quick, and avoided the initial gout. Unleashing another one, Toma flexed his Ki, and teleported, up in the air, while unleashing yet another wave of flame.
"Hold still, damn you!" He yelled, rapidly growing frustrated.
Toma barely had time to raise his sword to block, as Kiima rushed up from below, aiming to cut him in half at the waist. The bird woman then kicked up and out, catching the young warrior in the chin. Already falling from his position, Toma only dully felt his back impact something hard, which splintered beneath him. Opening his eyes, and pushing off slightly, he managed another block, as Kiima crashed down and into him at full speed. Sparks danced from their swords, but Kiima's right knee hit home, and Toma spit blood as it buried into his midriff.
With a creak and a groan, the wooden bridge beneath them finally gave way and cracked down the middle. Leaning back, Toma hastily teleported again, taking Kiima with him. Unfortunately, his teleport ability was short range, and limited to places he well remembered, or could visualize properly. Worse, it was taxing, and he could already feel his Ki reserves ebbing.
"Where the...?" Kiima looked around, disoriented. They were right below the falling bridge, now, when before they had been on top of it. Surprised, Kiima didn't have a chance to act, before her advantageous position became quite the opposite. One half of the falling wooden bridge plowed into her from behind, and as Toma rolled out from under her in midair, he just barely had the time and opportunity to catch hold of another bridge. Digging his nails into it, and holding on for dear life, the Prince of Togenkyou climbed back up and onto his feet, breathing heavily.
"Finally... Good riddance," Toma grunted, looking down into the pit where Kiima had fallen. "Now..."
He spun, as his danger sense flared. Not fast enough, however, the sting of metal tore into his arm. High above, swarms of archers descended, bows drawn. Silently, he cursed, and readied himself.
Far from the battle in the Atrium, Herb rounded the corner at top speed. He was alone, now, and the sounds of battle from behind had long since faded. He was just a blur, now, flashing through the air faster than a normal person could follow with their eyes. No matter. They could not have stopped him, anyway. Abducting Saffron was out of the question now. Killing him, at least for a while, would have to suffice. And though he was running the risk of exhausting his Ki, he had to turn back and help get Toma and his two men out. Abandoning them was totally out of the question.
"There! The door!" Herb's hands closed into fists, and with two quick Ki blasts, the heavy wood and iron doors were blasted off their immense hinges. He flew through without pausing, and landed on the Great Phoenix Throne Room. It was huge by any definition of the word, but also empty. Small fires were busy consuming the drapes and the royal carpeting...
And the bodies.
There were probably ten or twelve of them in all, most of them probably female, and all burning fiercely. Had Saffron gone mad and set fire to his harem and personal guard? What the hell was going on? Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts, Herb dashed through the burning curtains and silk, and into the young Saffron's bedroom balcony. Searching, the Musk prince saw more burning bodies, and the lit up remains of what was probably the godchild's bed and toys...
No Saffron.
"Where the hell are you, Saffron? I, Prince Herb the Fifth, son of King Herb the Fourth, Lord of the Musk, Blood of the Dragon, One True Son and Heir to the Cursed Springs, have returned to claim what is mine! Show yourself, you perverse bastard! Show yourself, or be damned forever in the eyes of our ancestors!!"
Herb breathing was in ragged gasps now.
Disappointment.
Surprise.
Anger.
"Damn you! I'll tear this place APART if I have to... to..."
Herb's anger danced around his body, his blood red aura blending into the fires all around him. Eyes wide, the Musk Prince walked quickly to a spot near the corner of the room, where a single staff lay, on the ground. Herb recognized it instantly: the Kinjakan, minus the headpiece. The Kinjakan was one of two legendary Musk staves crafted one thousand five hundred years ago, when the Jyusenkyou valley had been first colonized. It functioned as the 'hot' trigger for the source of the springs, in Lower Jusendo, which was how the Phoenix people had been able to steal it. Its brother-staff, the Gekkaja, had the opposite effect, ensuring a constant flow of cold water.
Picking up the weapon, Herb saw blood on his fingers.
"What the hell?" The Musk Prince looked down, and saw the burnt remains of what might have once been clothes... a child's clothes. There were also small spots of blood underneath it, and a few on the wall.
Growling, Herb held the Kinjakan firmly, and headed back the way he came. Saffron was obviously not around, or had possibly been betrayed... or... or something. Feeling his energy reserves starting to dwindle he sent a small pulse of Ki into the weapon. After only a second, the headpiece flew in through the open balcony nearby, securing itself into place on the staff. Then Herb flipped the Kinjakan around, the rounded head to the ground, and jumped on it. Tightening his hold on the handle, it took off like a rocket. Twisting and turning, he came back out into the Atrium, still filled with the sounds of intense combat.
"Toma! Toristan! Wonton!" Herb grabbed the younger warrior as he passed, turned around briefly to knock aside a Phoenix man, and give Toristan a quick pickup. Spinning quickly, Herb looked around for the last of Toma's bodyguards, and saw him limply fighting off two Phoenix, still holding the bridge despite his wounds.
"Toma! Take the handles!" Herb directed him to the Kinjakan, and jumped off, once again taking flight. Firing a trio of weak blasts to scare off the two opportunistic Phoenix, he managed to try and wrap one arm around Wonton's great girth. Arm straining, and Ki falling below acceptable levels; Herb pushed harder trying to keep up with Toma and Toristan on the fast moving Kinjakan. Trying to ignore the fire in his belly, and hoping that Toma knew the way to go, Herb concentrated on simply keeping going.
The world around him just seemed like a blur.
After what seemed like an eternity, they crashed out of the lowest levels of Phoenix Mountain, and into the cool natural air outside. The next thing Herb remembered was crashing down, his energy totally spent, onto the desk of the parked airship, miles from Phoenix Mountain. The rendezvous point... his mind reminded him. He had made it.
"Ukyou!"
He snapped awake, every muscle aflame from the effort of just sitting upright. Next to him, he saw Wonton, but didn't give the man another thought. Looking around the burnt and body strewn deck, arrows sticking out of the hardwood like giant pins, he saw Bishamonten, organizing the movement of the wounded, but passed him by. Then, Herb saw something white: a bow, and a gleaming, clean, metallic surface. Her weapon! The world around him seemed to disappear.
"Ukyou!" He found her, leaning against a large barrel, eyes bloodshot. Amazingly, for the first time, she didn't put up any resistance when he embraced her.
"Ukyou." He repeated, looking at her, then to Mint, who was, as always, standing off to her side. "Is she?"
"Unharmed, my Prince." Mint was cleaning his sword as he replied, "As you wished it."
"Good. Very good, Mint. You have done me proud." Herb went back to Ukyou. "My stubborn woman... I told you..."
"I know," she said, softly, "I'm... I'm sorry... I..."
"Wonton?" Toma's voice cracked somewhere behind them. Herb and Ukyou both looked, speechless, while the younger Prince shook his bodyguard's still form, calling his name.
"Damn it, Wonton! Damn... damn it..." Toma's eyes screwed shut, and with a violent swipe, he chased off the medic with the first aid kit hounding him to look at his arm, which still had the broken shaft of an arrow in it. Crystal tears fell from his eyes as he fell to his knees, pounding on the body. Behind his Prince, Toristan stood, his emotions hidden by his cracked, but still serviceable, mask.
"Wonton..." Toma trailed off, and with a shudder through his whole body, stood up. Gradually, his eyes moved up from the ground to Herb, and then to Ukyou.
"He held his ground," Toma's voice almost cracked again, but held. "He held that bridge, Herb. We were outnumbered... overwhelmed, but we held it. We held it. Next time... Next time... Don't send a woman to do a man's job! You hear me, Herb? I don't know how many of my men won't be returning to Togenkyou after today... but at least one...."
Wiping his eyes, Toma, Lord of Togenkyou, stormed off, followed closely by Toristan. In Herb's arms, Ukyou started to cry. Holding her tight, for once not caring who saw this side of him, weakness or not, Herb closed his own eyes. All this... he had not expected... anticipated any of this. What had happened? Where had things gone astray? Was it all for nothing?
***
"Well, Doctor?"
"The Subject is quite a specimen, Mr. Bishop. The find of a lifetime... We've gotten things from this subject that are even better than what we obtained through Project Rouge. As per your orders, we've catalogued all the measurements and put all the additional blood samples on ice. I've been in conference with several associates of mine in Japan and India in regards to the details. Frankly, I'm surprised you came so quickly."
"Oh?"
"Yes, sir... I was expecting at least a few more days to perform experiments. For example, the regeneration factor involved varies along the life cycle. There are also numerous proteins and cellular structures of note..."
"You have the samples, do you not, Doctor?"
The bearded doctor ran a hand through his sparsely woolen head.
"Yes," he finally answered, "Of course. But a test on the specimen itself is much more fruitful..."
"I can imagine how much you must enjoy slicing and dicing the little brat, Doctor Fukudome... but your research is only a side show. I have been waiting for this moment for almost fifty years." Bishop gave a knowing smile, and gestured to the thick glass cage where a small child was soundlessly crying.
"Sir?"
"Saffron... the power of immortality... he's an uncontrollable creature, you know. The Musk tried, and failed. You really think you can do better than they?"
"I'm certain, sir. All I ask is a little more time..."
"No, Doctor. You will watch, and learn... here and now." Bishop directed his attention to the man operating the atmospheric controls for the cage.
"Cut off oxygen to the cage." Bishop crossed his arms, smugly. "That will retard his regeneration cycle... once the infant has suffocated, prep it for removal."
"Just what are you doing, Mr. Bishop?" Fukudome watched impassively as oxygen was withdrawn from the cage, causing the partial pressure readings to fluctuate to different levels.
"Hmm," Bishop said and licked his teeth, giving the Doctor a disinterested look. "Well, if you must know... Saffron is a Child of Jyusenkyou. He is also a creature of magic... Jyusenkyou's transforming effects meaning nothing, because it is countered by his regeneration. His magic simply cancels out the normal ability of Jyusenkyou to curse him, and in addition, it makes him immortal... indestructible. You may contain Saffron, for a time, but eventually he will rise again, like the legendary Phoenix. This... is the dilemma. How can Saffron be controlled, since he cannot be truly killed?"
The doctor shrunk in on himself, unsure. "Such things are not my specialty..."
Bishop chuckled. "Of course not. You are a man of science. But I am what you are, and what you are not. The Society is not the occult sect it once was, but if I wanted a purely scientific institute, I could have started one, couldn't I? Believe it or not, the Society's mystics did have some insight... especially Basil."
"Basil, sir?"
"An exiled Musk of an ancient line. His bloodline... her bloodline had been keeping the secrets of Jyusenkyou to itself for centuries. A friend of mine, and myself, were able to gleam what we needed from her, and I got the rest from the Society mystics, who had been searching for Jyusenkyou themselves. There is a way to control Saffron, Doctor. And now, I alone know of it."
The Doctors' eyes betrayed his skepticism. Taking off his business suit and overcoat, Bishop laid them carefully aside, and snapped his fingers. A woman in a black suit came to his side, quickly, with a large glass of water. While Bishop undressed, another of his personal aides opened a small packet, sprinkling dust into the glass. The first woman then mixed it, careful not to spill any.
"Instant Cursed Spring," Bishop explained, handing the last of his clothes to the Doctor. "Hold these, would you?"
Standing before the two women, he held out his hands. With a splash, he shrunk down, his form distorting. The Doctor had seen it before, of course, on test subjects in their labs. It was the Jyusenkyou effect, the magical ability of the water to alter the basic Ki-state of a complex living organism. In animals, it caused what a layperson would call a 'mutation,' and in plants, which usually absorbed the water from a nearby spring, or spring source, it could cause unexpected growth, huge size, strange poisons, or even aggressive predatory behavior.
With the water used up, the second woman in black kneeled down, and picked up the large python. It seemed relaxed, and curled up in her arms while she carried it. Doctor Fukudome hurried to follow them, still carrying Bishop's clothes, while they walked into the next lab down, where two sub-researchers were transporting the now suffocated Saffron-child, which had reverted to its base line 'egg' form after brain death.
"Mr... Mr. Bishop?" The doctor asked, as the two women directed the egg placed on a small cushion on the floor. Then the one holding Bishop-snake put him down nearby.
"Wait a second... you can't do this... you have no idea what might happen! You could be killed!"
The snake didn't pay him any heed, and struck at the egg with an instinctive speed. It wasted no time in unhinging its jaw, and swallowing it. There was a stunned silence in the lab, as the snake worked against time. The two women aides checked their watches, and nodded to each other. The woman that had held Bishop earlier reached into her jacket pocket, and took out a canteen. On the floor, the snake looked somewhat hurriedly at her, and received a shower of warm water.
The water didn't work at first. Then, with a blinding flash, the reptile's body began to bend and twist, as it reconfigured from the inside out. The Jyusenkyou water was forcing him to metabolize, to standardize the body so that it could be changed by the magic of the water. But if the Saffron egg was being broken down into energy and heat that could be absorbed by the body...
"Step back!" The Doctor yelled, just as another bright flash came from the writhing form on the floor. And then, suddenly and without warning, it erupted in flame.
"The sprinklers!" One of the women jumped up and twisted the sprinkler head before cold water could explode from it. The researchers present didn't hesitate to make their escape, as the burning mass on the floor churned and turned paint white, like it'd been bleached a dozen times over. Cold water kept raining down from unbroken sprinklers, while the two women kept trying to bend any of them near the transformation.
"You idiots! Get out of there!!" The Doctor could feel the heat on his face from whatever was going on, but the two women in black kept working. Only when nearby equipment began to spark and steam rise from the ground did they back off. The first jumped over what looked like a white tendril, but the second tripped on something on the now impossible to see floor, and disappeared, screaming, into the steam.
"Close the damn door!"
The second woman ran for it, but fell forward as something took her by the ankle. The sound of her nails on the tile floor was the last sound she made. With a whirr, the heavy lab door closed, locked, and vacuum sealed itself. Through the thick glass window, the fire somehow grew exponentially. Along the walls, more equipment sparked and melted in the pyre.
"Temperature inside the room is in excess of 1000 degrees Kelvin and rising!" one of the sub-researchers gasped, checking the temperature gauge next to the door. "That window will shatter any second now! Fused Silica can't handle that kind of heat!"
"Is Lab 2 temperature shielded to handle something like that?"
"I... I don't think so!"
"Damn it all! We don't have a choice!"
Fukudome started herding the three other scientists to the next Lab down, through a small airlock. With a thunderous explosion, the door between the last lab, and the one Bishop had been in gave way, thick shards of half molten fused silica filling the air, heralding a wave of fire and superheated air hot enough to melt a rock face. Fukudome cringed, expecting the same type of window, and heavy airlock door, that they were behind to give way.
But it held.
"Temperature ...dropping." A sub-researcher swallowed hard, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "Let's hope..."
"Look!" Fukudome pointed to the resin-glass window, his voice barely a whisper, but still carrying clearly in the silence of the moment. The other scientists clustered around the window, eyes wide. Amid the still raging madness of the inferno, something was walking towards them: a dark outline, a human figure, standing in the burning hell of the destroyed Lab. In the blink of an eye, the flames were gone - extinguished.
And the door opened.
"Gentlemen, be calm," The figure spoke, in a voice like far off thunder, both hands flexing eagerly. "All things considered... I'd say things couldn't have turned out more splendidly."
***
Miles away, in the Guide's House, a young woman woke up screaming. Gasping, desperately trying to find her breath, Rouge looked down at her still shaking hands.
"What's... what's happening to us?"
No answer was forthcoming.
"Learning Curve"
Part XXIV (v1.3)
by: J. Wagner
Her name was Kiima, Captain of the Imperial Guard.
Kiima was the daughter of Tandorri, the last Great Caretaker. In her youth, in her earliest memories, she had beheld the face of her King and her God, and every night, before she closed her eyes, she saw that face and every time was like a new epiphany. By her God's order, she had been trained by the finest of Phoenix warriors, and given access to all the mythical and mystical information and learning the Tribe had unraveled and gleaned over lifetimes of work and conquest.
She was trained to fight and lead in equal measure, and to pave the way for the resurrection of her Lord God back to prominence. In her time as Captain of the Elite Guard, she had been accused of spoiling the neonate Saffron, and exposing him to danger unnecessarily, but they did not understand the proper reverence the Godchild was due. She could not refuse his wishes, no matter how outrageous or inappropriate they were. In addition, she secretly hoped to cultivate a more loving Saffron, so that all could know the grace and majesty of his Rule and his Word. For the last fifteen years, she had been the de facto ruler of the Phoenix Tribe, through its Elite Guard, separated by a generation from the cowards and sycophants that had surrendered their dreams of Empire thirty years ago.
She was a woman of destiny.
She had great plans for the future, both of her people, and for the world.
She had thought she was prepared for any eventuality.
She was wrong.
"What the hell do you mean we're being attacked?!"
"Mistress, we have several reports of a great airship advancing on the Mountain. Old Phoenix Village is also being attacked... Several patrols have already been wiped out!"
"An airship?" Kiima's eyes widened. "The Lucky Gods! They dare to attack us?"
"Kiima!"
"Lord... Lord Saffron?" Kiima spun around, at the approach of the godchild. "You should not be outside of your quarters."
"I go where I wish to go." The boy stomped his foot, and waved the ever present Kinjakan staff in her face. "What is this I hear of an attack?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with, my Lord."
"It had better not be," Saffron said with a petulant scowl. "It's interrupting my sleep."
"Return to bed, Your Majesty. I will take care of the fools who dare to attack us."
"I expect to hear of it later, Kiima," Saffron said and gave her a hard glare that, for a moment, reminded her of the face of the Old King. It also sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"Lieutenant!" She whirled on the young warrior who had brought her the news in the first place. "Assemble every able bodied warrior! Every one!"
"Captain Kiima?"
"I want that airship intercepted before it can engage the Fortress Defenses! They would not begin such an attack unless they had some new way of blasting through them!" Kiima drew her sword. "Now! To arms!"
Miles away, on approach to Phoenix Mountain, Bishamonten looked through his binoculars, and smirked. Behind him, Kirin stood, impatient. The young Prince was none too pleased with the entire situation. He had never really had the heart for true fighting such as in war, and truly disliked the idea of using the Lucky Gods' precious airship as a decoy to draw the attention and ire of the Phoenix. However, Bishmonten and the older Lucky Gods were anything if not for the destruction, or at least containment, of the Phoenix Tribe. Bishamonten, Lucky God of War and Defense, especially, seemed to hate them with a passion the Prince could not understand.
"Perhaps we should go below decks?" Lychee came up from behind Kirin, and rubbed his shoulders. "My Prince?"
"Kirin has taken the Lucky Gods Clan into this conflict. He will see it through."
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"Wise, no. Sure, never more so." Kirin pivoted, and took her shoulders in his hands. "You, however, must go. Understood?"
Lychee nodded, and gave him a deep kiss, before heading down.
"They're coming, just like Prince Herb planned," Bishamonten said as he let the binoculars rest on their strap around his neck. "Hundreds of them, in the first wave alone."
"Reverse the engines! Slow to starboard!" Ebitan called out, "Bishamonten, I shall handle the defense at the rear of the ship."
"Take care." The tall Lucky God nodded, once, to the shorter one, and he was off. Ebiten had the unenviable job of keeping the ship's maneuvers outside the range of the Phoenix Mountain defenses, and preventing any flanking attacks from breaking through and damaging the more vulnerable rear end of the ship. Bishamonten's job, however, was an easy one.
Survive.
Hold off the enraged Bird People.
"Archers!" The God of War shouted. Behind him, nearly a hundred buckler-armed men from Togenkyou, bows held at the ready, took positions in the middle of the ship. They were organized into ten units of ten each, in firing positions to cover nearly every approach to the deck of the ship.
"Guns!" Bishamonten roared, and he heard the satisfying click of armed weapons along the sides of the massive vessel. They were recent additions, courtesy of the Jyusenkyou Preservation Society: several powerful .50 caliber machine guns, in armored swivel mounts along the hull. Most importantly, there was the matter of the twin grenade launchers mounted to the keel of the ship. They were the airship's trump card, however.
"Stay in position! Hold where you stand, cover each other, and maybe you'll live through this!"
The Lucky God of War and Defense ground his teeth together, and watched the approaching swarm with something akin to relish. His battle senses were kicking in, and he could feel the energy of his Ki creeping up his neck, along his arms, and into the base of his brain. Every thought was becoming focused, every move like flowing water. The binoculars were of no use, now - he could see all he needed to see with his eyes. The skies were dark with enemies.
"Wait for it."
He didn't even have to think, the words came of their own accord. His eyes darted through the hailstorm of Phoenix warriors, analyzing and sensing on an instinctual basis. There were patterns to it. Disciplined maneuvers he bore the responsibility to determine, expect, and counter. There! Branching off from the right, heading up... no doubt catching a powerful updraft he mentally noted for later. An updraft would lead to an inclination for the winged freaks to attack, and angle they would move towards given a choice.
They were operating in staggered V formations, mostly. On the edges, groups of four were operating in schwarm formations, a tactic introduced by the Old King Saffron in the last war, from lessons gleaned in World War Two. Bishamonten was intimately familiar with them, and the havoc they could cause, especially on stationary defenses. It was a tactic the Phoenix King had used to great effect on the dark day that was the Battle of Soryn...
The V formations would hit the front, drawing fire and swooping down quickly, before circling for another attack, and then another, before closing to melee, their javelins wreaking terrible injury on those they target even before they got a chance for close combat. Behind them, fast firing Phoenix archers and crossbowmen would rain saturation down on their enemies, and when things became a melee, they would close for more accurate supporting fire. Meanwhile, on the flanks, the Phoenix warriors in schwarm, many with explosives or guns, would hit from behind in twos, half attacking, half covering and harrying, hoping to sow chaos and disorganization.
"Wait for it... Melee troops, at the ready!" He looked over his shoulder, for an instant, to make sure that the Musk swordsmen were ready to charge forward, supporting and leading their Togenkyou cousins in the coming battle.
"Archers...!" Bishamonten held up his hand, and heard the bowstrings of a hundred eager fighters tense in anticipation. "Archers..."
Now.
Now!
NOW!!
"ARCHERS... FIRE! ...FIRE!!! Let the skies above rain STEEL and CRY BLOOD!!"
***
Inside Phoenix Mountain
Herb paused.
"The battle has begun." He licked his dry lips, nervous anticipation creeping up his spine. "Quick!"
The Musk Prince kept running, leading them up the long flight of steps. Toma kept pace, his two ever-present bodyguards Toristan and Wonton just behind him. Taking the rear, Ukyou and Mint covered them and made up the rest of the tiny strike group Herb had chosen to penetrate and cut into Phoenix Mountain. Their mission was to make their way to the Imperial Sanctuary of the Phoenix King Saffron and kidnap him. The Phoenix would diminish and exhaust themselves against the Musk fortifications trying to get him back, weakening themselves significantly in the process.
Or that was the plan.
"Faster! This is the way!" Herb made a left when the path branched, without even thinking about which was to go. The endless flight of steps seemed to go on forever, and it was testing even a superior martial artist's endurance. Toma and his group were tiring slightly, and though Herb and Mint didn't show even small signs of fatigue, they slowed down to stay together. There was a damn good chance that there'd be fighting involved when they approached the top, and it wasn't wise to totally exhaust themselves running p the steps.
"Prince Herb! How do you know the way, anyway?" Toristan asked, in between breaths.
"This place... was once the Jusendo Observatory." Herb huffed. "A Musk outpost."
"How did it...?"
"Bad things just have a way of happening," herb said and directed them to a quick right, down a long hall. "Enough of past events... we have precious little time."
Toristan had no more to say of it, but Ukyou could tell Herb was hiding something. There was an almost... guilty tone to his voice, beyond its evasiveness, that she couldn't quite pin down. Why would Herb feel guilty? Was it that he really didn't like what he was going to do, or already did? It was possible, but not likely. He'd never hesitated to deride the Phoenix before, and his hatred of Saffron was almost tangible at times. Then, there was a shout of surprise, and the thick of battle crowded out all other thoughts.
Ukyou's battle spatula was out in a flash, as what could only be described as... inhuman creatures, flocked out of doors towards them, wielding spears and swords. They were like men, and women, except with brightly colored wings sprouting from their shoulders, horrible clawed hands, and talon-like feet. They made some sort of alarmed screeching howl that filled the wide hall, and without realizing it, Ukyou took a few frightened steps back. Mint jumped in front of her; just as a wave of needle sharp feathers filled the air. The young Musk's sword was moving at impossible speed, intercepting the missiles before they could reach her.
To her sides, Wonton, Toristan, and Toma surged forward. Wonton simply plowed through the hailstorm of feathers, while Toristan's cloak opened up, and he unleashed a wave of his own-feathered darts at the enemy. Toma skidded to the side, sword drawn and, somehow, catching fire. His feet barely left the ground, yet he moved with an unbelievable grace and speed that belied his youth. While Wonton's massive left arm smashed an unsuspecting Phoenix guard into the wall, and Toristan took out his own wickedly curved blade, Toma claimed the first victory of the day, driving his sword almost up to the hilt in one of the enemy. The Prince of Togenkyou stepped back, his sword slipping out of flesh, blood slouching off its clean metal, with a surprised look on his face.
Ukyou understood completely.
He'd never killed before.
The young Prince had practiced, and fought, and learned the maneuvers... but he had never truly tasted blood, or snuffed out a life by his own hand. She wondered if he realized how in over his head they both were. Herb reacted instantly, pushing Toma aside while another Phoenix warrior charged, spearhead ready to impale the young man from Togenkyou. The Musk Prince was too fast, however, and in a single motion yanked the weapon from the Birdman's hands and snapped it in half.
Setting his feet apart, Herb's battle aura flexed, for only a second, before settling back into his body. With a roar, electric Ki erupted from his arms into pulsing energy blades. Pouring more effort into it, the jaded lines of Ki snapped into place, forming deadly blades of ethereal energy.
"Hitou Ryu Zan Ha!!"
He thrust his hands forward and across his chest, and crescent waves of bladed Ki tore from his arms, and into two armored Phoenix warriors. The first was hit in the chest, and had just managed to get his arms forward to attempt a block. They were obviously at least somewhat skilled in Ki, because the creature only lost its arms, and not its life, before it flew back against the wall, crumpled and unconscious. The second was not as fortunate, and slid in half at the waist, falling lifelessly to the ground, one arm twitching.
"Oh... oh my god." Ukyou gulped, tasting bile. She'd never imagined... It'd be so red. So vividly red...
"Damn it!" Herb cursed, and ran back to her, taking her roughly by the shoulders. "Ukyou! Ukyou! Damn it woman! Control yourself! Are you a warrior or a housewife?!"
"I'm... a warrior." She looked up from the ground, into his eyes, still trying to hold herself together. One thought kept running through her mind: Do Not Look. Look at anything else.
"My woman." He leaned in closer, talking softly into her left ear. "I'm here. All right? Calm down."
"What am I...?" Toma gasped.
"Silence!" Herb roared, and it was so. "Mint!"
"Yes, Lord Herb?" Ukyou's ever present bodyguard stepped forward.
"Get Ukyou out of here. I'm entrusting you alone with her personal safety. Rendezvous with Sumac and the others in the Old Village below."
"But, Herb... I... I cannot just abandon..."
"You will do as I command, Mint!" Herb fixed him with a glare terrible in its intensity. "Do as I say! NOW!"
"Y... yes." Mint gulped, grabbed Ukyou's arm, and headed back the way they came.
"I know you will not fail me!" Herb called out to them, the quickly turned to Toma. "Cousin..."
"Herb." Toma cringed, expecting to be chewed out for hesitating. He just wasn't ready for...
"Cousin... Cover my back. I'm trusting you," he said and waited for the Togenkyou Prince to nod affirmative. Herb then addressed Toristan and Wonton, "You two, follow me. Stick close. It only gets worse from here on."
***
Sumac always liked to think of himself as a little slice of hell on earth when it came to fighting. Standing over his latest victim, the bladed end of his polearm dug deeply in his defeated opponent's abdomen, the elder wolf-Musk gave it a slight twist, evoking a scream of pain from his prone target. Leaning over slightly, looking into the man's eyes, Sumac smiled.
"I've always heard that gaping stomach wounds are the most painful... horrible... way to die." With a soft laugh, Sumac drew back and pulled the blade out of the beaten and bleeding Phoenix Warrior's gut. "Do me a favor. When you get to hell, tell 'em Sumac sent you, ok?"
With a feral snarl, the wolf-blood turned to the greater melee all around him. The entire Old Village was aflame, thanks to his handpicked terror troops. He'd trained each and every one of them for this moment. The support of the Togenkyou Auxiliaries and reserves was just gravy. Not necessary, but not exactly unwanted either. It'd have been nice if the airship could handle carrying a division of heavy assault Musk into battle here, but it would only have been overkill anyway.
"Then again... I love overkill!" Sumac charged into the thick of the remaining resistance fighting. It had greatly decreased, as those who fought back died at the hands of Musk Steel, and those who could not fight took to wing and tried to make their escape, running the gauntlet of Togenkyou archers ordered to target anyone attempting to flee the burning pyre that was the Old Phoenix Village.
Generations ago, this had been the original village where the peasants had developed into the Phoenix Tribe, as a direct result of the Jusendo Observatory and the Cursed Spring there. They drank the water, and over time, took on birdlike traits. For a time, they had continued to live in the village, before the First Saffron had organized construction on the ruins of the freshly conquered Jusendo Observatory and Phoenix Mountain. Over time, the Phoenix had tunneled into the mountain, and made it their home and their fortress, but the peasantry... they still worked the fields down below, like ungifted 'landlings.' So the Old village had survived into the present.
Until now; now, it burned.
Herb had given Sumac total authority to get as much attention from the Phoenix Legions as possible in his attack on the place, allowing him and his little cadre to work their way in and get to Saffron himself. It was an opportunity Sumac had looked forward to with great relish and anticipation. He was given a free hand to cause as much havoc and destruction as he wanted... to splurge, so to speak.
And splurge he was.
Swinging his weapon in a great arc, he cut a weary and wounded Phoenix man in half just above the second rib bone. The heavy, strong tempered Musk Steel cut through even tough flesh, bone and sinew with ease, and Sumac was hard pressed to find another target. His personal troops were moving about like true predators, sniffing out and destroying any opposition, or anything surviving, with terrible efficiency.
"Bah!" Sumac called out with a snarl, fighting back the urge to howl. "This place is dead! Fall back! Let these scum bury their dead when they get the courage to return to the ground!"
"Aye!" A chorus of voices returned from all around him.
Truthfully, the Phoenix warriors were no cowards. They had fallen back to concentrate on driving the greater threat, the Lucky Gods airship, back from Phoenix Mountain itself. Sumac knew that the airship was only fighting a holding action, and that the full weight of the Phoenix legions would force it to withdraw. When that time came, large swaths of otherwise occupied enemies would descend down on Sumac's own forces, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.
Then he heard it.
"Fall back I said!" Sumac narrowed his eyes and looked up at the rising base of Phoenix Mountain. Overhead, and obscured by the fire of the village, something quietly ascended amid the chaos, going around to the far side of the Mountain. Sumac would barely have given the helicopter any attention, except that he knew what it was, where it was going, and when it was going to make its entrance in the battle. He gave the black silhouette a quick two-fingered salute, before going back to his troops.
"Go get 'em."
***
Japan
Deep in the Minami Alps, the air was still enough to hear a pine needle fall to the earth. Or nearly so. There was silence aside from a few small woodland birds, and the sound of the wind moving through endless waves of branches, and lastly, the even, deep breathing of two martial artists in training. Assorted gear lay around them in a relatively neat fashion, and two packs rested meters away, each leaning against a different tree.
In the center of it all, the two were like statues, motionless and cross-legged, facing each other, one hand forward, one hand to the side and in the air, curled into a fist. Only the slow intake of breath from one signaled any evidence of life. His pigtail crept over his shoulder blades as he let air in, but otherwise his body was perfectly still, and his mind focused on his opponent entirely.
The other martial artist's right arm, drawn back as it was, tensed for a second, before releasing the energy back into the body. The bandanna'ed one was not quite ready, it seemed, and as his eyes refocused on Ranma, searching for any signs of intent or weakness to exploit, a single oversized canine poked out over his lower lip. Smirking, Ryouga regarded his pigtailed foe.
"Enough! I have you now, Saotome... You have no chance to survive."
"You're all talk, Hibiki. Put up or shut up."
"I'll admit your record is impressive." Ryouga's fisted hand clenched even tighter. "But I can read your moves perfectly now. Admit it! Your power is nothing to me now!"
Ranma laughed.
"Ha! You fool! Did you truly think you had seen the extent of by ability?!"
"What? Impossible!"
"Yes! You think your power is greater than mine, but I have been hiding my own power! Until now! Now, I unleash it on you! Prepare yourself, Hibiki!"
"Very well," Ryouga's hand shot forward, just as Ranma's did
"Die!!"
"Eat it!!"
...
"Rock beats scissors!" Ryouga shook his fist for emphasis.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ranma grumbled. "You win this round. I'm still ahead by seven points."
"Again, then!"
"Yes!"
The two got back into position, one hand forward, one held back to strike. Ranma opted for a slightly different version this time around, and Ryouga noted it. He kept a mental inventory of his opponent's posture, blood flow, breathing, muscle tension, and other physiological factors his enhanced senses were able to glean at the range they were from each other. The two warrior's respective battle auras had been 'active' and subdued for nearly the entire day, and it was beginning to get mentally taxing keeping it in check and under control, while concentrating on determining Ranma's next move.
More important than simple observation was the cultivation of an expanded version of a martial artist's natural ability to sense approaching danger. Ryouga was well aware that Ranma had an excellent sense of approaching danger, except when it came to Akane (or perhaps he simply ignored it in those cases)... regardless, Saotome Ranma was a difficult man to catch by surprise. Ryouga had always been a halfhearted ambusher. He always liked the surprise and cunning of a good ambush attack, but equally disliked the cowardice of it. It was why he usually coupled a surprise attack with some sort of verbal warning, to get the best of both worlds. Though, in reality, it was more like a poor compromise.
His danger sense had become steadily similarly well developed over time. Water related attacks and hazards still gave him a hard time, especially in Nerima, but most physical attacks he had a good chance of 'feeling' before they got him. The sense had actually dulled recently, as a result of his body hardening, and his creation of reactive clothing in the form of the Tekimen Kongou Gishu. So reawakening and improving on it had been one of his primary objectives when he finally got time for a good, long, hard training trip to the mountains.
Granted, using a game of 'Scissors, Paper, and Rock' wouldn't normally fall under the category of eliciting a response from anyone's danger sense, in practice, it did the trick, and was far less exhausting and distracting than outright fighting. Already, he could feel his aura and his Ki reaching out, sufficing the air around them like an invisible web. He could feel the buzzing of a fly, somewhere to his right, like seeing something in the periphery of one's vision. His eyes, his mind, his Ki... all were centered on Ranma, now. Trying to predict his next move, not just based on something as mundane as visual cues, but an almost spiritual ability to predict.
He saw it for a heartbeat.
A flash, like a picture... but it went by too quickly to see, even with the mind.
"Draw time, Saotome!" Ryouga finalized his own move, and snorted loudly.
"Is that so?"
Ranma's own smug smile unnerved the bandanna'ed martial artist.
"Taste... my WRATH!!!"
...
"Paper."
"Paper."
"Damn it." Ryouga shook his head and pulled his hand back. "I was sure I had you that time."
"Score is still one hundred and fifty eight to one hundred and fifty one."
"Do you know we've been at this for almost eight hours?"
"Hey," Ranma said as he shrugged. "As long as I'm winning, I don't care. You wanna quit now?"
"No! I'll beat you yet, you stinking raisin thief!"
"You're all talk, Hibiki!" Ranma smirked and drew his hand back. Ryouga may be all talk, but his training exercises were far from useless. Of course, he'd have to stay at least a step or two ahead of Ryouga, given the latter's more impressive physical prowess, but finesse with Ki had never been Ryouga's strength. He was more of a brute force type person, in mind and in body. They were about to start another round when ...something interrupted. It was like a sharp smell: horseradish or something similar, and Ranma's concentration was thrown off.
"Did you feel that?" Ryouga asked, looking to the west.
"Yeah..." Ranma sniffed, clearing his nose. "Weird."
***
Saffron jumped up out of bed.
"Who dares...?"
The group of men advanced.
"Stay back!" Saffron held forward the Kinjakan. "Guards! Kiima! Madras! Kulcha!"
Behind the group, someone moved, letting out a low groan.
"Madras!" Saffron recognized the old man's voice well enough and hissed at the advancing group of men. "You'll pay for this!!"
Spinning the Kinjakan, Saffron snapped the weapon back, letting the disk shoot out in a blur. One of the cloaked men tried to block the attack, and even grabbed the weapon, only to be carried by it off the Imperial balcony and down out of sight. Wielding the rest of the staff, the boy king took a step back. In the distance, an explosion sounded, and dark smoke wafted through the air. The lead man reached into his cloak, and pulled out a weapon, an unusual outsider weapon... the others were quick to follow, taking aim at the stunned Saffron.
"Wait... what are you...?"
The staccato ring of silenced gunfire cut him off.
***
"DIE already!!!"
Herb's palms lowered, ghostly wisps of smoke wafting between his fingers. His breathing was heavy, but the Musk Prince was uninjured, aside from a small cut on his arm. Around him, crushed and burning Phoenix warriors, members of Kiima's Elite Imperial Guard, collapsed at his feet. The stench of burnt flesh was almost unbearable. Resistance had increased dramatically as they got closer to Saffron. Much more than Herb had expected. Either the airship had been driven off early, or the warriors in the Old Village had been driven back.
Which would make it much more difficult to escape, either way.
"You'll not get past me!" Kiima threw aside the blasted and half melted shield she had been holding, and brought her sword forward.
"Infuriating woman," Herb spat off to the side as he said it, and built up his Ki for another blast. He'd been fighting against this damn woman's delaying action for too long, and reinforcements kept pouring down from above in the massive cavern where Kiima had intercepted them.
Wonton was badly wounded, but continuing on, heedless of his own injuries, and the hundreds of cuts and bleeding slashes he'd suffered. The poor bastard even had four arrows buried in his chest and arms, but steadfastly kept going. Toristan was slightly better off, because he was quicker, and less prone to rushing bull-headed into the attack. His sword was bloody, and his breathing erratic. His ever-present mask was splashed with crimson, and cracked near the left side.
"Herb!" Toma jumped forward, the boy's clothes torn and ragged, but his voice steady. "Go forward! I will deal with this woman! Toristan! Wonton! Hold the bridge, no matter the cost!"
Herb gave the younger Prince a quick nod of thanks, flared his Ki, and took to the air. Kiima jumped to try and get to him, but a torrent of 'flame' from Prince Toma cut her short of her goal. Wings flapping furiously, she turned around to try and reorient herself at the Musk Prince.
"Thousand Wings of the Seabird!!"
"Enough!" Herb's hands glowed with power, as he twisted in midair. "Dragon Spirit Flight!!"
As the Musk Prince moved, turning upwards, flaming Ki spheres bounced off the walls and from his hand into the incoming Ki enhanced feathers, taking them out one by one in a flurry of tiny immolating explosions. In seconds, Herb had neutralized the entire attack, and was nearly across to the other side of the cavern.
"I won't allow you to escape!" Kiima's wings spread for another attack, when something hard and fast plowed into her back. Spinning uncontrollably, she landed in a heap before collecting herself and flipping up onto her feet. Staring at her with determination in his eyes, Toma held his sword forward, flames lapping up all around him like great tendrils.
"Worry about yourself." Toma ground his teeth together. "Worry about ME!"
"Landling Boy," Kiima's said and her own sword shot forward. "You can't even begin to comprehend what I'm going to do to you for this."
As the two leaders clashed, blade on blade, Wonton bared his teeth, and backhanded yet another attacking Phoenix warrior. Though stunned, the birdman returned with a vengeance, and two of his comrades, short swords and claws driving the large dog-man back. Wonton's open palms, despite immensely thick skin, and two layers of toughened leather armor, were little more than a bloody mess as he frantically parried the attacks.
Toristan saw his comrade in trouble, but had little time to even contemplate going to his aid. He was hard pressed simply to match Kiima's Imperial Guards, and just barely pivoted out of the way as a screeching female with viciously glowing eyes made a mad lunge at him with a sword from the side. If they had come at them just a few at a time it would be one thing, but as it was, he and Wonton were holding off nearly six zealous guardsmen, just by themselves, while at the same time looking out for arrows from above.
Unfortunately, Kiima and her cadre had caught them in the worst possible place. They were fighting in what seemed to be a huge atrium, crisscrossed by long wooden poles, which provided the only means of crossing, short of flight. If they had been fighting in a hallway, it'd be far easier. Worse, they couldn't even move around, jumping from one pole to the other, without losing their way.
And where was his Prince?
"Damn it!" Toristan surged forward, overcoming the resistance of a determined guardsman's blade with brute strength, pushing her back and away. "Prince Toma! Where...?"
"I have you now!" Toma back flipped away, and off the back of a distracted bow-wielding Phoenix. He took to the air naturally, sword gleaming in the half-light. Left hand forward, he concentrated, and projected the image of a flurry of sword-like Ki projectiles leaving his palm.
"What in Heaven?" Kiima balked, and threw her wings forward, backing off and firing her signature attack. "Thousand Wings of the Seabird!!"
Toma smirked, and saw that her attacks were trying to intercept his own, except that his 'attack' was actually an illusion. Without himself as the target, it was child's play to avoid the razor sharp projectiles. Dodging and weaving amid the chaos caused by Kiima's frantic attack, Toma spun into his own signature attack.
"Yogan Ran Digi Dan!!"
Toma thrust the illusion attack out with his sword, unleashing fiery fury in a broad swath in front of him. Unfortunately, Kiima was quick, damn quick, and avoided the initial gout. Unleashing another one, Toma flexed his Ki, and teleported, up in the air, while unleashing yet another wave of flame.
"Hold still, damn you!" He yelled, rapidly growing frustrated.
Toma barely had time to raise his sword to block, as Kiima rushed up from below, aiming to cut him in half at the waist. The bird woman then kicked up and out, catching the young warrior in the chin. Already falling from his position, Toma only dully felt his back impact something hard, which splintered beneath him. Opening his eyes, and pushing off slightly, he managed another block, as Kiima crashed down and into him at full speed. Sparks danced from their swords, but Kiima's right knee hit home, and Toma spit blood as it buried into his midriff.
With a creak and a groan, the wooden bridge beneath them finally gave way and cracked down the middle. Leaning back, Toma hastily teleported again, taking Kiima with him. Unfortunately, his teleport ability was short range, and limited to places he well remembered, or could visualize properly. Worse, it was taxing, and he could already feel his Ki reserves ebbing.
"Where the...?" Kiima looked around, disoriented. They were right below the falling bridge, now, when before they had been on top of it. Surprised, Kiima didn't have a chance to act, before her advantageous position became quite the opposite. One half of the falling wooden bridge plowed into her from behind, and as Toma rolled out from under her in midair, he just barely had the time and opportunity to catch hold of another bridge. Digging his nails into it, and holding on for dear life, the Prince of Togenkyou climbed back up and onto his feet, breathing heavily.
"Finally... Good riddance," Toma grunted, looking down into the pit where Kiima had fallen. "Now..."
He spun, as his danger sense flared. Not fast enough, however, the sting of metal tore into his arm. High above, swarms of archers descended, bows drawn. Silently, he cursed, and readied himself.
Far from the battle in the Atrium, Herb rounded the corner at top speed. He was alone, now, and the sounds of battle from behind had long since faded. He was just a blur, now, flashing through the air faster than a normal person could follow with their eyes. No matter. They could not have stopped him, anyway. Abducting Saffron was out of the question now. Killing him, at least for a while, would have to suffice. And though he was running the risk of exhausting his Ki, he had to turn back and help get Toma and his two men out. Abandoning them was totally out of the question.
"There! The door!" Herb's hands closed into fists, and with two quick Ki blasts, the heavy wood and iron doors were blasted off their immense hinges. He flew through without pausing, and landed on the Great Phoenix Throne Room. It was huge by any definition of the word, but also empty. Small fires were busy consuming the drapes and the royal carpeting...
And the bodies.
There were probably ten or twelve of them in all, most of them probably female, and all burning fiercely. Had Saffron gone mad and set fire to his harem and personal guard? What the hell was going on? Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts, Herb dashed through the burning curtains and silk, and into the young Saffron's bedroom balcony. Searching, the Musk prince saw more burning bodies, and the lit up remains of what was probably the godchild's bed and toys...
No Saffron.
"Where the hell are you, Saffron? I, Prince Herb the Fifth, son of King Herb the Fourth, Lord of the Musk, Blood of the Dragon, One True Son and Heir to the Cursed Springs, have returned to claim what is mine! Show yourself, you perverse bastard! Show yourself, or be damned forever in the eyes of our ancestors!!"
Herb breathing was in ragged gasps now.
Disappointment.
Surprise.
Anger.
"Damn you! I'll tear this place APART if I have to... to..."
Herb's anger danced around his body, his blood red aura blending into the fires all around him. Eyes wide, the Musk Prince walked quickly to a spot near the corner of the room, where a single staff lay, on the ground. Herb recognized it instantly: the Kinjakan, minus the headpiece. The Kinjakan was one of two legendary Musk staves crafted one thousand five hundred years ago, when the Jyusenkyou valley had been first colonized. It functioned as the 'hot' trigger for the source of the springs, in Lower Jusendo, which was how the Phoenix people had been able to steal it. Its brother-staff, the Gekkaja, had the opposite effect, ensuring a constant flow of cold water.
Picking up the weapon, Herb saw blood on his fingers.
"What the hell?" The Musk Prince looked down, and saw the burnt remains of what might have once been clothes... a child's clothes. There were also small spots of blood underneath it, and a few on the wall.
Growling, Herb held the Kinjakan firmly, and headed back the way he came. Saffron was obviously not around, or had possibly been betrayed... or... or something. Feeling his energy reserves starting to dwindle he sent a small pulse of Ki into the weapon. After only a second, the headpiece flew in through the open balcony nearby, securing itself into place on the staff. Then Herb flipped the Kinjakan around, the rounded head to the ground, and jumped on it. Tightening his hold on the handle, it took off like a rocket. Twisting and turning, he came back out into the Atrium, still filled with the sounds of intense combat.
"Toma! Toristan! Wonton!" Herb grabbed the younger warrior as he passed, turned around briefly to knock aside a Phoenix man, and give Toristan a quick pickup. Spinning quickly, Herb looked around for the last of Toma's bodyguards, and saw him limply fighting off two Phoenix, still holding the bridge despite his wounds.
"Toma! Take the handles!" Herb directed him to the Kinjakan, and jumped off, once again taking flight. Firing a trio of weak blasts to scare off the two opportunistic Phoenix, he managed to try and wrap one arm around Wonton's great girth. Arm straining, and Ki falling below acceptable levels; Herb pushed harder trying to keep up with Toma and Toristan on the fast moving Kinjakan. Trying to ignore the fire in his belly, and hoping that Toma knew the way to go, Herb concentrated on simply keeping going.
The world around him just seemed like a blur.
After what seemed like an eternity, they crashed out of the lowest levels of Phoenix Mountain, and into the cool natural air outside. The next thing Herb remembered was crashing down, his energy totally spent, onto the desk of the parked airship, miles from Phoenix Mountain. The rendezvous point... his mind reminded him. He had made it.
"Ukyou!"
He snapped awake, every muscle aflame from the effort of just sitting upright. Next to him, he saw Wonton, but didn't give the man another thought. Looking around the burnt and body strewn deck, arrows sticking out of the hardwood like giant pins, he saw Bishamonten, organizing the movement of the wounded, but passed him by. Then, Herb saw something white: a bow, and a gleaming, clean, metallic surface. Her weapon! The world around him seemed to disappear.
"Ukyou!" He found her, leaning against a large barrel, eyes bloodshot. Amazingly, for the first time, she didn't put up any resistance when he embraced her.
"Ukyou." He repeated, looking at her, then to Mint, who was, as always, standing off to her side. "Is she?"
"Unharmed, my Prince." Mint was cleaning his sword as he replied, "As you wished it."
"Good. Very good, Mint. You have done me proud." Herb went back to Ukyou. "My stubborn woman... I told you..."
"I know," she said, softly, "I'm... I'm sorry... I..."
"Wonton?" Toma's voice cracked somewhere behind them. Herb and Ukyou both looked, speechless, while the younger Prince shook his bodyguard's still form, calling his name.
"Damn it, Wonton! Damn... damn it..." Toma's eyes screwed shut, and with a violent swipe, he chased off the medic with the first aid kit hounding him to look at his arm, which still had the broken shaft of an arrow in it. Crystal tears fell from his eyes as he fell to his knees, pounding on the body. Behind his Prince, Toristan stood, his emotions hidden by his cracked, but still serviceable, mask.
"Wonton..." Toma trailed off, and with a shudder through his whole body, stood up. Gradually, his eyes moved up from the ground to Herb, and then to Ukyou.
"He held his ground," Toma's voice almost cracked again, but held. "He held that bridge, Herb. We were outnumbered... overwhelmed, but we held it. We held it. Next time... Next time... Don't send a woman to do a man's job! You hear me, Herb? I don't know how many of my men won't be returning to Togenkyou after today... but at least one...."
Wiping his eyes, Toma, Lord of Togenkyou, stormed off, followed closely by Toristan. In Herb's arms, Ukyou started to cry. Holding her tight, for once not caring who saw this side of him, weakness or not, Herb closed his own eyes. All this... he had not expected... anticipated any of this. What had happened? Where had things gone astray? Was it all for nothing?
***
"Well, Doctor?"
"The Subject is quite a specimen, Mr. Bishop. The find of a lifetime... We've gotten things from this subject that are even better than what we obtained through Project Rouge. As per your orders, we've catalogued all the measurements and put all the additional blood samples on ice. I've been in conference with several associates of mine in Japan and India in regards to the details. Frankly, I'm surprised you came so quickly."
"Oh?"
"Yes, sir... I was expecting at least a few more days to perform experiments. For example, the regeneration factor involved varies along the life cycle. There are also numerous proteins and cellular structures of note..."
"You have the samples, do you not, Doctor?"
The bearded doctor ran a hand through his sparsely woolen head.
"Yes," he finally answered, "Of course. But a test on the specimen itself is much more fruitful..."
"I can imagine how much you must enjoy slicing and dicing the little brat, Doctor Fukudome... but your research is only a side show. I have been waiting for this moment for almost fifty years." Bishop gave a knowing smile, and gestured to the thick glass cage where a small child was soundlessly crying.
"Sir?"
"Saffron... the power of immortality... he's an uncontrollable creature, you know. The Musk tried, and failed. You really think you can do better than they?"
"I'm certain, sir. All I ask is a little more time..."
"No, Doctor. You will watch, and learn... here and now." Bishop directed his attention to the man operating the atmospheric controls for the cage.
"Cut off oxygen to the cage." Bishop crossed his arms, smugly. "That will retard his regeneration cycle... once the infant has suffocated, prep it for removal."
"Just what are you doing, Mr. Bishop?" Fukudome watched impassively as oxygen was withdrawn from the cage, causing the partial pressure readings to fluctuate to different levels.
"Hmm," Bishop said and licked his teeth, giving the Doctor a disinterested look. "Well, if you must know... Saffron is a Child of Jyusenkyou. He is also a creature of magic... Jyusenkyou's transforming effects meaning nothing, because it is countered by his regeneration. His magic simply cancels out the normal ability of Jyusenkyou to curse him, and in addition, it makes him immortal... indestructible. You may contain Saffron, for a time, but eventually he will rise again, like the legendary Phoenix. This... is the dilemma. How can Saffron be controlled, since he cannot be truly killed?"
The doctor shrunk in on himself, unsure. "Such things are not my specialty..."
Bishop chuckled. "Of course not. You are a man of science. But I am what you are, and what you are not. The Society is not the occult sect it once was, but if I wanted a purely scientific institute, I could have started one, couldn't I? Believe it or not, the Society's mystics did have some insight... especially Basil."
"Basil, sir?"
"An exiled Musk of an ancient line. His bloodline... her bloodline had been keeping the secrets of Jyusenkyou to itself for centuries. A friend of mine, and myself, were able to gleam what we needed from her, and I got the rest from the Society mystics, who had been searching for Jyusenkyou themselves. There is a way to control Saffron, Doctor. And now, I alone know of it."
The Doctors' eyes betrayed his skepticism. Taking off his business suit and overcoat, Bishop laid them carefully aside, and snapped his fingers. A woman in a black suit came to his side, quickly, with a large glass of water. While Bishop undressed, another of his personal aides opened a small packet, sprinkling dust into the glass. The first woman then mixed it, careful not to spill any.
"Instant Cursed Spring," Bishop explained, handing the last of his clothes to the Doctor. "Hold these, would you?"
Standing before the two women, he held out his hands. With a splash, he shrunk down, his form distorting. The Doctor had seen it before, of course, on test subjects in their labs. It was the Jyusenkyou effect, the magical ability of the water to alter the basic Ki-state of a complex living organism. In animals, it caused what a layperson would call a 'mutation,' and in plants, which usually absorbed the water from a nearby spring, or spring source, it could cause unexpected growth, huge size, strange poisons, or even aggressive predatory behavior.
With the water used up, the second woman in black kneeled down, and picked up the large python. It seemed relaxed, and curled up in her arms while she carried it. Doctor Fukudome hurried to follow them, still carrying Bishop's clothes, while they walked into the next lab down, where two sub-researchers were transporting the now suffocated Saffron-child, which had reverted to its base line 'egg' form after brain death.
"Mr... Mr. Bishop?" The doctor asked, as the two women directed the egg placed on a small cushion on the floor. Then the one holding Bishop-snake put him down nearby.
"Wait a second... you can't do this... you have no idea what might happen! You could be killed!"
The snake didn't pay him any heed, and struck at the egg with an instinctive speed. It wasted no time in unhinging its jaw, and swallowing it. There was a stunned silence in the lab, as the snake worked against time. The two women aides checked their watches, and nodded to each other. The woman that had held Bishop earlier reached into her jacket pocket, and took out a canteen. On the floor, the snake looked somewhat hurriedly at her, and received a shower of warm water.
The water didn't work at first. Then, with a blinding flash, the reptile's body began to bend and twist, as it reconfigured from the inside out. The Jyusenkyou water was forcing him to metabolize, to standardize the body so that it could be changed by the magic of the water. But if the Saffron egg was being broken down into energy and heat that could be absorbed by the body...
"Step back!" The Doctor yelled, just as another bright flash came from the writhing form on the floor. And then, suddenly and without warning, it erupted in flame.
"The sprinklers!" One of the women jumped up and twisted the sprinkler head before cold water could explode from it. The researchers present didn't hesitate to make their escape, as the burning mass on the floor churned and turned paint white, like it'd been bleached a dozen times over. Cold water kept raining down from unbroken sprinklers, while the two women kept trying to bend any of them near the transformation.
"You idiots! Get out of there!!" The Doctor could feel the heat on his face from whatever was going on, but the two women in black kept working. Only when nearby equipment began to spark and steam rise from the ground did they back off. The first jumped over what looked like a white tendril, but the second tripped on something on the now impossible to see floor, and disappeared, screaming, into the steam.
"Close the damn door!"
The second woman ran for it, but fell forward as something took her by the ankle. The sound of her nails on the tile floor was the last sound she made. With a whirr, the heavy lab door closed, locked, and vacuum sealed itself. Through the thick glass window, the fire somehow grew exponentially. Along the walls, more equipment sparked and melted in the pyre.
"Temperature inside the room is in excess of 1000 degrees Kelvin and rising!" one of the sub-researchers gasped, checking the temperature gauge next to the door. "That window will shatter any second now! Fused Silica can't handle that kind of heat!"
"Is Lab 2 temperature shielded to handle something like that?"
"I... I don't think so!"
"Damn it all! We don't have a choice!"
Fukudome started herding the three other scientists to the next Lab down, through a small airlock. With a thunderous explosion, the door between the last lab, and the one Bishop had been in gave way, thick shards of half molten fused silica filling the air, heralding a wave of fire and superheated air hot enough to melt a rock face. Fukudome cringed, expecting the same type of window, and heavy airlock door, that they were behind to give way.
But it held.
"Temperature ...dropping." A sub-researcher swallowed hard, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "Let's hope..."
"Look!" Fukudome pointed to the resin-glass window, his voice barely a whisper, but still carrying clearly in the silence of the moment. The other scientists clustered around the window, eyes wide. Amid the still raging madness of the inferno, something was walking towards them: a dark outline, a human figure, standing in the burning hell of the destroyed Lab. In the blink of an eye, the flames were gone - extinguished.
And the door opened.
"Gentlemen, be calm," The figure spoke, in a voice like far off thunder, both hands flexing eagerly. "All things considered... I'd say things couldn't have turned out more splendidly."
***
Miles away, in the Guide's House, a young woman woke up screaming. Gasping, desperately trying to find her breath, Rouge looked down at her still shaking hands.
"What's... what's happening to us?"
No answer was forthcoming.
