Henrika: Thanks!
littleweirdwriter: Well, the anime references gives you a hint to just how much time I have on my hands. (Sigh.) So why can't I ever finish my homework?
MoonlightNIV: Like the almost-romantic ending? I hope to get more out soon!
blue-eyes: Oh. My. Gawd! Another reviewer?! (Starts giggling inanely.) Seriously, thank you very much for stopping by and reviewing. The other thirteen (technically twelve) were all submitted by the wonderful people I've listed above. Yes. Only three other people have read my story thus far. (Or reviewed it, at least.) I don't know if it's the coupling or if my writing doesn't appeal to them, but other people don't seem interested. (Or maybe I just suck, period.)
Disclaimer (Ha-HA! I remembered this time!): I own everything in this story. And bigfoot is a type of cheese.
Don't sue me.
Resonators
By squishybookworm
The Taikoubou river began as a lush delta at the Clow empire's most northeastern tip and wended its way down the kingdom, sending many offshoots of itself to bring cool relief to the southern lands. It continued in a southwesternly course, its huge roar tamed only by the Ryuzaki mountains before flowing sedately past the empire's borders into the Duchy of Raleigh. There it seeped into the Woglinde Marshes, stagnant.
Any who dared to travel through the miles upon miles of bogland was invariably never heard from again. Its waters were poison, collecting the waste and bitterness dumped into the Taikoubou river. The trees were as likely to shower an unsuspecting victim with disease-ridden insects and deadly snakes as it was to shelter him, and if all that failed to kill the person, noxious fumes rising from the ground clogged his brain and eventually drove him mad.
Currently, it was the single greatest aggravation in the Duke of Raleigh's great campaign. He scowled at the red-haired girl, and his recently adopted daughter, before him and amended that thought.
"Ruri," he barked, "do you choose not to understand what I am trying to say?"
Not a single auburn eyelash flickered as she continued to stare at him with striated golden eyes.
"More than three-quarters of my men, if not all of them, will die before we reach the border! The Clow will laugh at me like I'm a fool when I demand they surrender. I will not be mocked! Do you hear me?! SO ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!"
All around the large, rectangular table, generals who'd survived countless battles and jaded advisors who'd plotted hundreds of intrigues and assassinations, jumped fearfully as he roared. But Ruri remained still, her eerie gaze steady.
Shioda Hirokazu, great Duke of Raleigh, was not a large man. In fact, his lanky build did not make him a very intimidating figure at all and people often wondered how such a booming voice could reverberate from such a seemingly skinny man. His long brown hair was pulled back from his face in a loose ponytail that trailed a down his back in a glossy mane. A few long curls streamed down his temples, under the slim, bejeweled circlet, and briefly caressed his high cheekbones before continuing on to tickle his collarbone.
He curtly brushed those away and impatiently undid another gold button to allow more skin to be kissed by a barely stirring wind in the stuffy room.
A bearded councilman spoke up tentatively, "My liege? Your reasoning is sound. To take four thousand men through the Woglinde Marshes is pure suicide and even if a fraction should survive, they would not be strong enough to withstand any counter attack the Clow would send against them. What we are doing will be . . . very risky. We must reconsider this."
"Think you, Councilman Roddard?" Hirokazu's glare melted into a sharp smile, which made the recepient squirm, suddenly feeling like a sheep about to be slaughtered. "And why do you say this?"
Roddard cleared his throat, a fine sheen of sweat reflecting off the sunlight streaming through the high windows of the room. He swept a trembling hand past the bald plate on his head and through what was left of his long, curling, grey-brown hair. "W-well, s-sir. If we can capture the Ryuzaki Mountains and the forges of Cephiro there, we would have a very decisive victory, but any attempt to seize that area will be met with failure."
Hirokazu rested his head against his hand lazily and regarded the councilman with a hooded gaze. "Do go on, Mr. Roddard. You sound so sure of the Clow's victory. Do explain your reasoning."
"To capture the Ryuzaki mountains, the Raleighan army would have to bypass the Woglinde Marshes and half of the Ryzaki mountains, almost go into Inepril, then cross the Taikoubou river, before attacking Cephiro. That would take weeks and supply lines would become strained. Not to mention the resistance they would meet along the way when the Clow hears of movement along their border. To cut through the marshes and follow the Taikoubou river as . . . the young lady proposes will surely cut the time and more importantly, surprise the Clow, but as you have just said, sir, more than three-quarters will die before they reach the border. The remaining men will not be able to defeat the City of Cephiro, much less hold it long enough for reinforcements."
BAM!
Hirokazu's palms connected solidly with the heavy table. "ARE YOU TELLING ME MY MEN ARE WEAK?!"
"No! No, of course not, my lord," Roddard rushed to placate. "I am merely saying that a campaign to capture Cephiro may not be feasible."
"Ah," Hirokazu said, suddenly calm. "Of course, you are right. And there you have it, Ruri. Roddard says it will not be feasible."
Roddard nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, my liege. I'll even venture to say it is madness. A sure path to disaster!"
"He says it is madness, Ruri. A sure path to disaster. His reasoning is very sound, so he must be right. Think you he is right, Ruri?"
When she did not respond, Roddard shot her a barely concealed look of triumph.
"Only a fool would consider this campaign, my lord, " he hastened to add, before another councilmember could steal his momentum. Already, some of the younger ones were giving him venomous glares.
Hirokazu smiled lazily. "Am I a fool, then?"
Roddard's smile faltered. "P-pardon, my liege?"
"I placed the matter before the council myself, did I not?"
"Uh, ye-yes, sir."
"Meaning I've been considering this, have I not?"
"Y-yes. I suppose so." Roddard swallowed, trying to moisten a suddenly dry throat.
"I know that this is a discord that reaches farther than my founding father. The Clow have always reaped the riches of the land while we . . ." Hirokazu sneered. "Well, we were left the Woglinde Marshes, is that not right, Roddard?"
"Yes, sir."
"Simply the Ryuzaki Mountains. That had been all my fathers before me had ever wanted . . . had ever deserved. What is it the Clow say?" The Duke paused, planting a forefinger along his cheek. "Ah, yes. Ying and yang. One can not exist with out the other. Misery and happiness.
Bullshit!" he spat. "If their high and mighty asses could come up with that crap, why couldn't they give us Cephiro?!"
The long-haired Duke roared, "WELL, WE DESERVE OUR DUE!"
He leapt to his feet, spittle flying from his full lips as he shouted. "AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF I'LL WAIT ANOTHER MINUTE! ANOTHER YEAR! ANOTHER GENERATION, BEFORE I'VE RECEIVED MY REWARD FOR THE SUFFERANCE OF MY WHOLE BLOODY FAMILY LINE!"
Everyone fixated their eyes not on their panting and furious lord, but the councilman who had incited the rage.
The balding man licked his lips and flicked his eyes furtively around the table. A rat sitting among cats. "M-my lord, I . . . I was mistaken. Why should the Clow not tremble in fear when they hear the war call of Raleigh? I should not have underestimated the might of our great kingdom. Yes. Our suffering shall be the tidal wave on which we shall ride to sweep that pathetic land!"
A pall of silence fell over the room. The slight breeze stilled and sank to the ground like a puppy at heel. Sunlight caught and tangled in the profusion of jewels and rich clothing, creating a scintillating display of rainbows. Sweat glimmered visibly on pale faces and no one moved to wipe it off with scented handkerchiefs.
Finally Hirokazu sat down slowly then spoke. "Mr. Roddard. Let me tell you a story." He steepled his fingers as if about to fall deep into thought. "Once upon a time there lived two men. Both were farmers who'd lived next to each other for all of their lives. One year, the crops of one of the farmers suddenly contracted a strange disease and he lost everything. But, you see, this farmer was very cunning. He knew his neighbor was a simpleton and so one night, stole out to the fields and moved the crops from his neighbor's garden to his own. The next day the second farmer came to him, crying and the first farmer felt so sorry for him that, that night, he returned the stolen crop. Do you know what happened then, Mr. Roddard?"
Roddard swallowed, lips trembling, "M-maybe. . . . the second f-farmer helped him out, sir. . . ?"
"No. When winter came, having no food, the first farmer died and the second was such a nitwit, he didn't notice a thing. Mr. Roddard, the only thing I find more detestable than a fool is a coward."
He made no movement, but the room suddenly exploded into action. Everyone leapt to their feet as black tentacles erupted out of thin air behind the ill-fated Roddard and he screamed. They wrapped around his body, constricting his airway as one found its way around his throat. Those closest to him backed away swiftly, horror written plainly on their faces.
"No!" he choked. His wide blue eyes darted around, pleading with someone to help. But the others quickly averted their gazes and those that didn't watched him with fascinated terror, muscles paralyzed.
"Please." He found his Duke's seated form and reached towards him with clawed hands. "Please."
But the impassive man did not even glance at him. He sat calmly, staring at nothing, as if finding his own thoughts more interesting.
Someone shifted. The only movement in the still room and Roddard found himself staring at striated golden eyes. Ruri's lips moved. And a whisper came to him. As if she stood right next him and not clear across the room. Then she finished and smiled.
"No!" Roddard scrabbled frantically at the tentacle around his throat. "No! Please . . . no!"
But they pulled inexorably. And Roddard disappeared gradually. First his gaping, fish-like expression. Then his torso. Then his legs.
Everyone stared at the spot where the councilman had sat. No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move. Even the dust motes dancing in the sun's beams stilled.
"Well, Ruri?" Hirokazu asked. No inflection in his voice indicated that anything had happened and it was just another meeting like hundreds before. "What say you to the problem of the Woglinde Marshes?"
"Gather your men, my Duke, " she replied, "and I will give you . . . a miracle."
Rain pattered gently against the sloping roof and slid off with a reassuring sweep to the overhang. It tinkled marvelously. Like the gay chime of bells that accompanied the gypsies when they came through the village below. Through the open shoji door, Rika could see the clear streamers of water fall off the roof like shimmering ribbons.
She laid on the ground with her head pillowed on her mother's lap. The older woman worked diligently on an embroidery as Rika stared out the door.
"Okaa?" Rika finally asked.
"Yes, Rika-chan?" The lavender-eyed woman did not pause in her ministrations as the flame-haired child in her lap shifted to look up at her.
"Why are you doing that? We are women after all."
Her okaasan stopped to smile down at eyes the shade of her own. The white scar that ran from her left temple across her lips to end at her chin, puckered with the movement. Rika reached up to trace it familiarly.
"Yes. I am a woman. That is why I must do this."
Rika frowned. "What do you mean?" She followed the ridged flesh with her chubby fingers, letting her okaasan's hot breath warm the tips. She'd always loved this particular mark. It had been the first kiss of battle her mother had received, and she'd returned triumphant whereas many of her comrades had not. Rika could not help but swell with pride, each time she saw it. Her mother was the strongest woman in the world.
"Okaa has something to confess."
Long slender fingers closed over her small hand and pulled it away. Her okaasan slowly stood, giving Rika time to clamber to her own feet.
"Okaa?" Rika looked up at her okaasan's beautifully pale face. As white as white plum blossoms.
"Okaa will no longer be your okaasan."
"Okaa!" Rika scolded. "Don't be mean!"
"I am not being mean, Rika-san."
Rika . . . san?
"I love him more." The older woman stared off over Rika's head, her lilac-colored eyes soft. "I can only love him."
Rika spun around. A man stood a few feet away. Heavy brows lowered over his dark blue eyes, and he smiled through his neatly trimmed beard. His dark brown hair spiked messily, giving him a handsome roguish look, like a pirate of the Southern Isles.
Her okaasan approached him then tenderly embraced him before turning back to her daughter. "You understand, don't you?"
With a start, Rika suddenly realized the room had disappeared, leaving a landscape of darkness behind. "Okaa? Stop lying. Stop being mean!"
"Rika-san." She smiled as she and the man faded away like ghosts. "Someday, you'll understand."
"NO! No! I don't want to understand!" Rika leapt towards the dissipating couple. "I promise I'll be good! I'll be a warrior! Just like you! So don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
Her hands passed through them. Her lavender eyes widened in realization. Then she fell. Blackness rushed up to meet her, but in the land of darkness, that meant nothing, so she floated there. Weightless.
A warmth touched her forehead. Steadily, it spread all through her body and the comforting smell of rain came to her.
"Okaa," she whispered. "I'll become the strongest woman in the world! And then you'll be proud of me. You'll love me."
Henry pulled his hand back, brows lifting curiously. Strongest woman in the world, huh?
Rika was draped over his back, unconscious. When she began mumbling, he'd reached up to touch her forehead with the back of his hand; something his mother had often done to him when he was feverish. But she was cool and he had to resist the urge to press his hot cheeks against her cooler ones. She probably wouldn't appreciate him rubbing his sweat all over her.
He sighed, wishing he'd taken the time to take off his outer robe. His thick mandarin shirt would have been more than enough to keep the rapidly disappearing chill at bay. The noon sun reflected off the white stones underfoot, creating a brilliant blankness that hurt his eyes unless he blinked rapidly. In the distance, snow-capped mountains rose out of the ground, towering crowns of the earth, and a glittering ribbon of water wended its way from the foot of those mountains to some point below the slope he and the flame-haired Echo were descending.
He had an idea of where they might be. The few scraggly trees and scruffy grass he'd spotted, were clearly indigenous to the north, but where exactly in the north, he did not know. He'd only ever traveled once and that had been with his master after his family had died. And he'd been too distraught to notice anything for weeks afterwards.
They'd traveled to the city of Po Chi Lam and had remained there until the summons of a council he'd never heard about. Thus began his second traveling experience. But this time, he and his master had used public roads.
Henry shifted his passenger's weight carefully then went back to scrutinizing the pebbled ground for loose footing. How was his master? How were the others? After Rika had Vibrated, she'd fainted, leaving Henry to seek aid on his own, and he been carrying her all day, trying to reach a dull roar, which he recognized as a river. He sincerely hoped Master Long would not worry overly much. He was still spry, but was getting on in years. Lately, he'd even begun to complain about a chill that never seemed to go away. Henry wanted to finish this journey quickly and return home with his master to their modest home in Po Chi Lam. How were the neighbors getting along? Was Fei Fong doing well, handling their apothecary? Did the children miss him?
A grumble sounded from low in his stomach, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the evening before. He also felt as if someone had stuffed linen into his mouth and squeezed a rag of sweetened mint water over his head then dusted him from head to toe. How did Rika manage to stay so cool? He turned his head slightly to regard the sleeping face. How did she manage to stay so pale for that matter? Her skin was like the white petals of the orchid blossom they used to perfume some of their herbs even through the dust that brushed a fine layer of freckles across her features and the mottled bruise along her temple.
Henry stopped. The roar of the river, which had been gradually getting louder now carried an undertone like water running over rocks. Henry gripped his unconscious companion more firmly then rushed forward. He crested a slight rise of blank rocks and his eyes widened.
The river was huge! It rushed, shining like a broadsword and just as straight, as if power was the only thing it understood. He could just make out the boulders that lined the other shore, identical to the one he stood on now. To the river, the large stones were little more than pebbles to be tossed aside as it swiftly flowed along its course, throwing up angry froths of spray when a stubborn rock dared to block it.
Henry carefully propped Rika up against a gray boulder and ran to the water's edge. The rapid current swept over the stones, polishing them smooth. Sunlight dappled the slightly slower eddies near his perch, causing the wavering image of the bottom's sandy contents to flicker. He cupped one hand and took a careful sip. Running it over his tongue slowly, he nodded. No salt that he could taste. And it was flowing rapidly enough, he supposed, to wash out any other impurities.
After slaking his thirst, he shrugged off his outer robe and found the cleanest portion to dip into the clear water. This, he deftly carried back to the sleeping Echo.
[Nonaka?] Shaking her gently, he called again, [Nonaka?]
When she didn't answer, he gently pried her mouth open and squeezed a few drops. She swallowed. Henry's shoulders relaxed in relief. He repeated the process until the cloth was only damp. But Rika did not awaken at all.
Henry frowned. He knew what herbs to use for a child's fever or a festering wound, but mystical and spiritual injuries were beyond his scope. Takato had called it a backlash, so he could only assume that meant Rika had overextended her abilities and would need rest to recover. But he could not take that chance. He had to find someone who knew more about the strange Vibrate skill. Make sure that Rika would eventually wake up.
He slung her across his back again, like the piggy-back rides he'd often give to the neighbor's children, then followed the river's course. Towards the mountains.
Before long, rocky ground gave way to grassy plains that painted the landscape with shades of green, and the mountains that had seemed so far earlier, loomed before him like dark sentinels guarding a secret vault. But even more encouraging was the sight of an even, wide dirt road.
Henry eagerly clambered onto the road, tired of constantly tripping on loose pebbles and unseen dips in the ground. The sun was a ball of angry scarlet-orange and they'd entered a small fringe of forest that had fingered down from the rising lands around them a while ago.
He first felt an uneasy prickling and hastened his pace, but lack of food and exhausted from the heat of the day, he could only manage it for so long. Rustles in the shadowed brush and faint footsteps that dodged his, made him tense with each passing breath, misty-grey eyes alert.
As the orange-red orb disappeared from the tops of the trees, the foliage exploded around him, and several men with wooden clubs or knives surrounded him, smirking.
"What's this, men?" a man with long, tangled blond hair said. "A couple of children out past their bedtime? What shall we do?"
The others laughed coarsely as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Ignoring the pounding of his heart and the faint tremor in his hands, Henry carefully set Rika down on the ground and pulled her katana from his waistband to place it next to her.
"Hm? A girl? And she's sleeping? Oohhh, so a lover's tryst, boy? Maybe she'll want a real man, do you think?" The blonde leered, showing several gaps in his teeth. "If you're done with her, we'll take her as payment for your life. What do you say, boy?"
Henry stood, gripping his darn jian tightly. What could he do? He couldn't run fast enough with Rika. He would be severely hampered in fighting them off when more than likely she could be injured. What could he do?
"I'm talking to you, boy!"
"Boss! Hey, boss!" A skinny fellow with a high screeching voice pointed to the unconscious Echo. "Look! She's an Aav!"
"An Aav?!" The boss broke into loud guffaws, making Henry shift uneasily.
The Aav and Clow were not on the friendliest of terms because of their respective different matriarchal and patriarchal societies. It was hard dealing with a woman in matters of business or politics when one was used to meek submissiveness from the fairer sex.
"Haha! I've always wanted to knock one up!"
"Yeah! Especially between her cheeks and I don't mean her mouth either!"
"Harharharhar! See how tight they really are, you mean!"
"Hawhawhawhawhaw!"
Henry pulled in, hovering over Rika's still form. Should he kill her? Slice her neck cleanly and she wouldn't feel any pain? Wouldn't feel any of the shame of the most atrocious act a man could inflict on a woman. If she was as much the warrior as the Aav were rumored to be, she would have taken down as many of the men as she could and if captured, would stab herself or bite her own tongue to bleed to death. Henry swallowed, trying to force the lump in his throat to disappear. Trying not to let the frantic pounding of his heart overwhelm him.
The white column of her throat shone up at him like the moon. But he was not an Aav. He could not . . . would not. . . .
She would never forgive him for this.
"We'll really let you go, boy! After all, you brought us an Aav! Hahahaha!" The blonde boss stepped to the side and his men followed suit, clearing a path for the mute, storm-eyed boy.
Feeling like a butterfly was flapping incessantly in his throat, Henry started forward. Not glancing at the unconscious body behind him.
"Smart choice, boy. You'll live a long life."
He heard movement behind him as the others rushed to the girl's form, like vultures after carrion.
"Oooh, she's a real beaut, boss."
"Hmm, good jugs. Haha!"
"Don't get started without me, fools!"
As the men's attention quickly gathered on their prize, Henry crouched suddenly then pushed off. One leg swung out to plow into the blonde's stomach as he buried his sheathed sword into another bandit's face. From there he was a dervish of movements and silent strikes. Distracted by the sounds of battle, the men quickly moved from Rika to join their comrades in defeating this foe.
The silver of Henry's blade caught the last crimson rays of the sun, hiding for brief moments the smears of blood. He blurred through the crowd like a deadly dancer. His darn jian slashing viciously across a man's torso like a snake's bite and causing the bandit to scream. The sound of cracking bones reverberated through the cacophony of curses, and another howled as Henry's kick landed with painful accuracy onto his nose. One dropped his weapon as soon as he saw the fury blazing the youth's storm-grey eyes almost as silver as the deadly sword. That was the last thing he saw.
Yet the events of the day took its toll. One slip here and a bandit clipped Henry's jaw with a powerful hook. Too slow there and another nicked his shoulder with a knife.
Henry swung his leg in a wide arc towards the blonde leader. The bandit grinned and Henry tightened his leg muscles, trying to halt the progress. But too late as the leader spun once, letting the kick fly behind him. Used the momentum of the spin to drive his elbow into Henry's stomach.
His storm-grey eyes dark with strain, Henry dropped his sword and hugged his stomach. The elbow jab connected painfully with a sickening crunch. He flew from the force of the blow, globules of sweat flicked off his blue-black hair, his body bent almost double, but at the last moment, he tucked his feet beneath him and landed in a crouch. He looked up, panting harshly, blood rapidly soaking his dirtied and ripped mandarin shirt. The ties on leg had unraveled and a vertical tear up the other trouser leg showed a shallow gash.
Five still stood, while four bandits' bodies littered the road. Only one was breathing.
Tremors shook his body and unwillingly Henry's head dropped. He stared at the criss-cross of scarlet blood along his palms.
"Hen . . . ry. . . ."
A monster stood before him, its large mouth stretched across its pasty face in a grotesque grin. Hanks of dirty blonde hair struggled to cling to its head in several places. Red eyes glared at him malevolently. Its long, thin arms dangled to the ground even as it stood upright.
Ashes floated to the sky as if to become stars in the velvet skies above. He tasted copper on his tongue and a wet warmth in his hands. He looked down. A delicate, golden hand covered his smaller ones. Blood running thin rivulets over both.
He shuddered. Curled into a small ball as a pressure built up in him. Something was pressing against his throat. Where his voice should have been.
"Look at him! He's shivering like a lamb! He's scared! Scared, I tell you!" "Huh. That's not gonna help you, now." The bandit leader spat a mixture of spittle and blood. "You should've taken your chance when you had it, punk!"
[NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
Henry clutched his ears and the bandits jerked uneasily as if they'd heard the speechless cry. Silence fell. Nothing but the navy-haired boy's harsh breathing prevailed. A squirrel froze in its track, beady eyes trained on the crouched youth. A cricket stilled its legs, search for a mate usurped by another elemental force. A leaf shivered in the wind then broke off. It fell, swinging lazily. Then touched the ground.
Henry's head snapped up.
Silver eyes, pure as the inlay on his darn jian, glared at them.
A/N: Okay, maybe not the best spot to end the chapter, but I've noticed that I've had nothing but battles. I mean . . . three separate battles in one day?! Geez, if the characters were actors they'd be whacking me repeatedly for making them go through all that!
Anyways, I want to get into a little character development, so action sequences are gonna be less from this point on. Err, maybe. And maybe concentrate mostly on Henry and Rika. Err, maybe.
Thanks for reading and please review!