"Yuri, I'm sorry," the small boy said softly. Yuri fought back the urge to cry. Turning around slowly his eyes widened as his suspicions were confirmed. Inquisitive brown eyes stared back at him from under a thatch of unruly dark brown hair. He raised a hand and ran it through his hair, pushing it to new levels of disorganisation. Yuri bit his lip.
"You can't be Sasha," Yuri replied softly. The boy tilted his head to one side. "Sasha's dead."
"And so I am," the boy replied. He grinned, a quicksilver flash of white teeth. "Hasn't stopped me yet!" The grin melted from his face, leaving a sombre expression. "However, there is so much I must tell you."
Yuri sat down suddenly. An observer might had commented on the abruptness of this action, suggested that he had sat down in order not to pass out. Sasha was kind enough not to.
"Firstly, what happened to Clara was not your fault, so stop flagellating yourself over it," Sasha said seriously.
"Christ, I'm being psychoanalysed by my subconscious. What's next, raving about the end of the world to a stuffed raven?" Yuri replied bitterly.
"I'm not a figment of your imagination!" Sasha replied, stamping his foot. "I'm really Sasha!"
"Yeah," Yuri replied sceptically. "Like Sasha knew the word 'flagellating.' Hell, I don't know what the word means!"
"To scourge," Sasha replied absently, eyes unfocused. "The Macquarie Dictionary, 1995." Yuri blinked, whether at the definition or the date was unsure. His next statement clarified matters.
"1995? Considering that it's 1907 now, that's a bit far-fetched." Sasha blinked and smiled reassuringly.
"Sorry, I do that sometimes. Comes with the talent, I'm afraid." Seeing Yuri's blank expression, Sasha clarified with "I'm a prophet."
"A what?" Yuri blurted, feeling stupid once he realised what he had said.
"A prophet. It makes sense when you think about it really. After all, we were destined to defeat a man that calls himself Roger Bacon," Sasha replied off-hand. Yuri blinked. Sasha laughed at Yuri's stunned expression.
"Should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? Okay, firstly your father was not supposed to be killed when you were ten. Instead, what was supposed to happen was you would receive a different fusion soul and your father was to train you in Harmonixing. He was supposed to die…about now. You'd travel with your mother to Vladivostok, where you would meet a prophet and a Soul Well, both fully trained. When your father died six years too early, this all went out the window.
"Anyway, once Clara went mad - which was not your fault, no matter what anyone has told you, that was a threat that had to be neutralised. And when she killed me, that really threw the fates for a loop." Sasha chuckled. "So, a Chimera class had to be found to trap her. That's where Alec came in. If you had asked him when he first lost control of his powers, you might have noticed that it was at the same time as I died - no coincidence there. Initially, he was not supposed to be used like that. He was to defeat some Adept, I forget his name, leaving our way clear to defeat Bacon." Sasha sighed. "We would have been unstoppable, the three of us. A true triumvirate of power. No matter."
"How do you know all this?" Yuri demanded, anguished. Sasha shrugged. "And, if you're dead, how are you talking to me?"
"That one I can answer. Clara's doing this. Don't worry though, this is the last time. She can't do it for long either," Sasha replied. "So, if you desperately need to ask something, now's the time."
"I could have sworn that you weren't a prophet," Yuri said slowly, mouth feeling as if it was made of wood.
"When you knew me, I wasn't. All latent then. However, violent acts can awaken it prematurely, and what's more violent then death?"
"Prove it," Yuri taunted. Sasha shrugged.
"Alright. Sometime in the future, you'll have to make a choice. A woman's soul depends on the right decision. Choose wisely," Sasha replied. Yuri's eyebrows raised to his hairline.
"That's a prophecy? What about the thee's and thou's and all that crap? And could you be a bit more specific?" Yuri demanded. Sasha shook his head.
"I don't use the thee's and thou's. Nor the riddles or the other crutches that other prophets used. I don't need to, as I'm dead and can't be pestered by morons who want to know whether they'll marry the cowgirl next door and all that. And I got a impression that it's within the next ten years." Sasha grinned impishly. "Hope that helps."
"Well, no, it doesn't," Yuri replied petulantly. "What good's a prophecy when the only time you know if it's right or not is after the fact?"
"Good huh?" Sasha retorted. "But I assure you, this will happen. It's a pity you won't remember this. No, don't object! The only reason you remember me at the moment is because your memory block was lifted during that spell. Eventually it'll come back. Which if you ask me, is a good thing at the moment. You're teetering too close to the abyss."
Sasha stared into the distance. "And you have to wake up now. There's a seeker looking for you and Alec. I don't think you want to be buried alive, do you?"
"Oh," Yuri replied. "How do I do that?"
"Just fall asleep."
"Don't you dare to be dead," an irate female voice commented, shaking Yuri violently.
"Stop that," he complained. "I might have internal injuries." The shaking stopped.
"Obviously you don't. Didn't the boy use the knives?" the voice demanded. Yuri's foggy brain finally put a name to a face.
"No. Should he have?" he asked vaguely.
"Yes! It would have stopped him dying! He didn't need that spell, just needed to touch the Soul Well with the knives!" Valentina shouted in frustration. Yuri wearily closed his eyes.
"Could have said so earlier, when it would have helped," he reproached. Valentina contemplated punching him, but decided that it wouldn't be a good idea.
*
The adolescent girl floundered under the water, desperately clawing through the water to reach the surface. Her lungs burned with the need for air, and she fought not to open her mouth. Unfortunately, instinct won over mind and her mouth opened involuntarily. Water filled her mouth and lungs. It was strangely peaceful, this drifting, she thought to herself. She no longer struggled. Her last thought was of the two boys trying to accomplish the impossible. She hoped they succeeded, and didn't shame her sacrifice.
*
Alice opened her eyes partially and closed them quickly against the glare from the sun. She opened them again and looked around. She was in her parents' garden, lying on her back on the grass. She pushed herself upright onto her elbows and shook her head. Everything seemed to have a strange luminescence to it, as if she was looking at the world through starlight.
"Little girl, come out to play?" a rasping voice whispered in the wind that teased her hair. She craned her head, searching for the speaker. "It's been so long since someone heard me…." Alice's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, but I can't see you," she pointed out.
"That's alright. We'll play a game of hide and seek. I'll hide and you'll seek," the voice replied. "And if you don't find me quick enough, I get to hold something you hold dear hostage." Alice gasped, pushed herself to her feet and ran for her father.
"Run, little girl. I'll find you in the end…." the spirit whispered, as substantial as the breeze.
*
Koudelka blinked rainwater from her eyes and looked around dazedly at the familiar alleyways of London. Raking her hand through her hair, she turned and looked down at her son Halley.
"Come on, let's go home," she suggested. Halley didn't respond. Concerned, she knelt down in front of him and examined him closely. His eyes were far away, presumably looking at the same thing that she had been. Koudelka frowned for a moment, then shook Halley's shoulder. Halley didn't shake off her hand, nor did his eyes loose the faraway cast. Biting her bottom lip in anxiety, Koudelka looked around nervously and cast a simple healing spell. Still no response. Halley was still caught up in something.
Scooping him up, Koudelka walked quickly back to their current hideout.
*
"Look, you have to free me! The world depends on it!" Death Emperor ranted in his cage. The two masks standing guard didn't look particularly impressed. Admittedly, it's hard for a carved piece of wood to look impressed, but these masks took their innate indifference to a new level.
"I demand my right to a hearing!" Death Emperor continued.
"Trust me, everyone can hear you," an amused female voice replied out of Death Emperor's line of sight.
"Nice to know that my efforts are not being ignored. Although, do you reckon you could use your influence here Amon?" Death Emperor replied. Amon made a non-committal noise.
"I can bring the hearing forward, yes. Get you let off, no," she replied slowly. "And what's so urgent anyway? Your host isn't going anywhere at the moment. He'll be catatonic for a while yet." Death Emperor groaned in exasperation, slid down into a crouching position and buried his head in his hands.
"That ritual wasn't finished. There's still some elements that I didn't get a chance to return," he rasped, voice muffled by his fingers. "And if I don't return them, I don't know if they ever will go back." Death Emperor sighed. "I just don't know how to solve this, Amon."
"Why such concern toward your host? I remember vividly a time when you used to find it amusing to torment them," Amon asked, genuinely curious. Death Emperor shook his head.
"We need this one. You have no idea how desperate our situation is. He is the last, and the Judge is coming," Death Emperor replied, voice resigned. "The Judge will come in this one's lifetime, it has been foretold. And if he is not sane and ready for it, we will all perish and the world torn asunder."
"Very poetic," Amon commented. "And how do you know this to be true?"
"A forked prophecy. You know that the Hyuga line occasionally throws one up. This one is the omega."
"I see," Amon said thoughtfully. "I should be able to bring the hearing forward. After that, you're on your own."
*
"It is time…" a voice whispered. Yuri spun around.
"Time for what?" he demanded. A piece of what looked to be a jigsaw puzzle fell at his feet.
"For you to piece it all together."
"Piece what?" Yuri asked. The voice was silent. Yuri shrugged and picked up the piece. It was small and had a picture on it. Yuri brought it closer to his face, to see it clearly. A dark-haired woman stared out at him with sad dark eyes. Yuri frowned at the resemblance between her facial structure and his own. He flipped the piece over and read what was on the back.
"Katerina Milovitch?" he read aloud, confused. That name sparked a memory, but it was one so intangible that it darted out of his mental fingers. Yuri shrugged and moved on. He wandered aimlessly, letting his feet take him where they willed. A picture lying on the ground caught his eye. Picking this up, he noticed that it was of a girl with a sky-jump nose and auburn hair.
"Juliet," he read aloud. Yet another memory was freed from its prison. Yuri absently reached out and rubbed the scars on his back.
*
Zhuzhen quickly pulled his hand out of the flame and watched as the burns healed. He rubbed his hand with his spare, trying to relieve the ache that always happened after he used his skills for healing. After all, healing was not what his discipline was about. He grinned wryly as recent events caught up with him.
After Ben Hyuga died, Zhuzhen travelled to where Ben had told him that his wife and child lived in an attempt to make amends for using Ben in such a manner. When he arrived, he saw the aftermath of a battle, with dismembered body parts everywhere. He managed to recognise Anne, but had despaired of Yuri, believing him to be a collection of the smaller, indistinguishable parts.
Six years is a long time to live with guilt. He had given up his studies, believing it to be a sufficient sacrifice in Ben's name. He had become a recluse, refusing to show his face to the outside world. As a result, he was surprised when a brash presence tapped on the mental walls of his mind and demanded to borrow his magic for a while.
"Who are you?" he had called out. The presence responded with bombarding him with memories. It had taken him a while to sort them out, however the effort was worth it. Zhuzhen smiled to himself. Ben Hyuga's son lived, and was as impetuous as he could be. Thankfully, he resembled his mother.
*
"Catherine?" Yuri asked, piece in hand. He shrugged and tucked it into his pocket. Somehow he knew that there were more pieces to collect.
*
The aristocratic man swore fluently as his situation became apparent. Trapped under a landslide, miles from anywhere, it didn't look good. To make matters worse, some impudent brat had stolen his magic 'for the time being' and 'would give it back later.' Later wasn't good enough. He needed it now! At least he wasn't injured in the landslide. He settled back to wait for either his servants to notice his absence and to come and rescue him, or for his magic to return. He really hoped it was the latter. There was nothing worse then having to be rescued by lesser beings like servants.
*
"Mum!" Yuri cried, fingers tracing over the piece lightly. "I wish you could see me now! I'm not little any more!" His voice softened. "I wish you were alive still. I wish I could talk to you, get embarrassed over what you had to say about my girlfriends, shout at you when you annoyed me - all the things everyone else could do with their parents. I wish….I had said that I loved you before I killed you. I'm sorry." He placed the piece in his pocket.
"And Dad," he continued, looking at the other piece in his hand. "Why did you go? I need you, and you're not here. You were never here. Not to be whining or anything, but you should have been there! You left me alone, and I hurt Mum! Dad….why?" It was placed in his pocket to join his mother.
Yuri let his feet guide him, let them take him where they willed. He was unsurprised when they led him to two more puzzle pieces. In fact he expected it.
"Clara and Sasha. Together as they should have been in life," Yuri commented sadly. "Fate is a cruel mistress, is she not? If I had not been there, would the two of you still be alive? Living blissfully unaware of the curse that follows me?" He picked up the piece of a smiling girl. "Clara, I hope that your imprisonment is not as cruel as I think it may be. I wish that you could have grown up, married me and done everything that you wanted to."
"And Sasha. A dead prophet bound to the river of time? I'm so sorry. You were supposed to avenge your father, dance, drink, sing off-key hell, and even have massive mud-fights with me. You shouldn't be bound to time, where your quicksilver energy will fade and die." The Sasha piece fell into his pocket.
Smiling grimly, Yuri traced his path back to where he started. His suspicions were confirmed when a picture of a boy who looked like he was painted with watercolours.
"Alec," Yuri began, but was unable to continue. He reached into his pocket and the pieces spilled onto the floor. As if driven by something, he began to arrange the picture together. His mother next to his father and Auntie Katerina, Sasha next to Clara…the pieces initially seemed not to belong; however once placed, they were right. Tears rolled down the length of his nose, dripping from the tip, onto the pieces. He wiped at them angrily, smearing them across the puzzle pieces.
Once the puzzle was completed, Yuri, still crying silently, reached out to touch it. His fingers slipped through the puzzle, and Yuri gasped as the fragments of memory linked together, to form a cohesive fabric. He now knew who he had been. He only wished that so many people didn't have to die to show him that.
"Hello? Are you alright?" a female voice asked. Yuri opened his eyes and squinted. "Only, you were crying, and it was really creepy. Especially when you started glowing.
"No," Yuri replied and closed his eyes.
*
The little boy screamed as he fell into the abyss.
Authors Note: Am I evil or what? No, don't answer that, I need the confidence boost after I fail my electrical exam. Anyway, is Valentina that bad really? I always thought of her as a rather independent young woman who thought that Yuri was a bit of a try-hard. Which he is, when you think about it. At least people don't think of her as a Mary Sue. I have a habit of killing off Mary Sues you see, and she's important still (for Yuri angst. What else?)
Reading over my previous chapters, I have winced in horror and am rewriting them as you read this. Also, I'm tying them into one huge HTML document known as the 'Book of Yuri.' However, don't hold your breath! That might be a year project.