Disclaimer: Sadly, no Ronins for me. So, in other words, I don't own them.
Though, I do own a nice new car. That's beside the point.
A/N: Argh, it's been quite a while. I have to be in the right mood to write. The chapter is longer than the others, and I'm quite proud of this one. Just beware of spelling goofs. My stupid word processor decided to stop spellchecking my work, so I did my best with a quick glance. Please excuse any small mistakes and enjoy!
A dream within a dream. A nightmare within reality. What had happened? Ryo forced himself to open his eyes. His eyelids slowly obeyed, opening like rusted iron gates. His vision was met with pure blue sky, swimming with fluffy white clouds that resembled marshmallows and cotton, soaring in the atmosphere, like fish in a bowl.
Tentatively, Ryo flexed his hands; they were both there. He raised himself from the ground and was met with a sharp pain in his back, trailing up his spine towards his neck. He cried out in agony and surprise, falling back onto the sandy soil. Ryo guessed that he had fallen on his back when he lost consciousness. That vision had seemed so real. But, he could trust Whiteblaze; there was no reason to believe that Whiteblaze would hurt him or any of the other Ronins.
Ryo wondered what the others were doing at that very moment. He wondered if they were trying to help him. Sighing, he pushed the thoughts of despair out of his mind. He knew the guys were trying to help them, but a sense of hopelessness sprouted in his heart when he thought of his friends. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself off the ground, allowing the sharp pain to wrack his body. He had to do this alone. No one could help him.
After walking for several hours, the pain in his back slowly receded. His feet were covered in a thick layer and dirt and sand; his soles and toes bled. Sharp rocks were camouflaged in the soil and remained unseen to Ryo. He often stubbed his toes in them or walked directly on top of them, which resulted in a sharp, unwelcome pain. Though he began to grow weary, he trudged on, knowing that something or someone was lying in wait for him.
Oddly, the sky remained unchanged. It never grew dark, and the clouds never disappeared. It was eternal daylight in the nightmare Ryo was living. Though, Ryo noticed a decrease in temperature, even though the time of day was not changing. It slowly became colder, and he rubbed his hands over his arms in quick, smooth motions in order to stay warm. Soon, the temperature would become like an icy chill. Ryo knew that deserts experienced the two extremes of temperatures- hot and cold. He forced himself to keep walking, though his body began to shake uncontrollably with tremors induced by the cold.
Ryo had to find shelter, otherwise, he would be forced to face the chill of night. Normally, he would have depended on his armor to save him, knowing Wildfire would provide not only heat, but a large portion of courage to his already thinning bravery. Goosebumps attacked his skin, and his hairs stood on end. Ryo could feel his face tightening in the cold and his teeth chattering. Suddenly, he spied a light in the distance. Fire. Ryo could almost feel the warmth radiating from the flame. Gathering the last of his strength, he ran to the source of the fire, willing himself to reach it. His feet pounded against the sand, producing trails of blood as he sprinted towards the fire. The temperature of his body raised only slightly, barely registering with Ryo. He half-climbed, half-sprinted up a small dune, his eyes wild with weariness and desperation. Upon reaching the top, he slid down the hill slightly, his feet loosing balance and grip. The sand greeted his body, and enveloped his flesh and he fell. Ryo flailed his arms and limbs, fighting the sand until he regained balance and went over the top of the hill, running.
A temple came into his sight. It was small, square, but carved beautifully out of stone and marble. Fires gleamed from inside, baring light to the world through windows. Figures were carved in the stone, but he was too desperate to notice. Ryo sprinted to the building before skidding to a halt in awe as he gazed upon the majesty of the building. It was no bigger than Mia's house, but it was grander and more exciting. Ryo walked inside slowly, his feet trailing blood and tracking dirt inside. Oddly, the marble was warm, and he knew that this could not be possible, but the need for warmth overwhelmed his curiosity. He walked to a small fireplace on the east side of the temple and crouched before it, holding his hands out in front of the fire.
When his body was finally warm again, Ryo stood up to his full height, feeling soothed and strengthened by the prescience of the fire, his element. His senses were heightened. Ryo sensed another prescience in the temple and tensed to fight. His muscles cried in protest, but he pushed the pain aside, letting the fire soothe his sores.
"Show yourself," Ryo barely recognized the sound of his own voice. It was horse and forced from lack of use and the cold.
Ryo waited, frozen the defensive position, until he spotted a shadow from the back of the temple, slithering over to him slowly.
"Come to the light, demon," Ryo said, the tone of his voice compiled of fear, anger, and curiousity.
"As you wish, my lord," A smooth, yet aged voice answered.
The shadow grew into a man, bent over with age, his hair white and thinning. The man raised his head and looked at Ryo with eyes of gray. He was dressed in a simple brown robe that tied at the waist. He bowed slightly, which looked almost comical in his already bent over position.
"I am Detrimentus, my lord."
"I am no lord of yours."
Detrimentus smiled and looked up into Ryo's tiger blue eyes, searching for something.
"But you will be, if you wish it."
The old man produced a dagger from beneath the folds of his robe. He handled it with care and respect, holding it out to Ryo. The dagger was made of silver, its hilt covered in dark jewels, which reflected Ryo's eyes when he looking into them. The blade was long and thin, and the light from the fire bounced off onto the metal. Ryo could see the stars reflected in the blade, and he looked out through one of the windows, amazed by the night that had covered the sky. It had been day only moments ago.
Detrimentus held the dagger out to Ryo, hilt first. The warrior felt compelled to hold it, so he reached out to the dagger, curiosity overtaking his normally wary demeanor. The blade felt cool in his hands. It was richly crafted, Ryo noticed upon further inspection. The dagger was perfectly balanced, obviously made by an experienced blacksmith. Its beauty shone with a quiet sense of deadliness.
"My lord?" Detrimentus questioned meekly.
Ryo raised his head, tearing his eyes away from the beauty of the weapon.
"This dagger offers you unimaginable power, but only if you wish it."
"How would I attain such power?" Ryo asked, feeling as though he was being pulled under the spell of the dagger.
"You must offer yourself to it completely, my lord."
"A gift?"
"No, my lord, a sacrifice."
"What could I possibly sacrifice?"
"Yourself, my lord."
Ryo dropped the dagger, the clang of the metal hitting the floor echoed in the stone temple. The fires played light off of the two faces. Detrimentus smiled and picked up the dagger with such a speed that was not possible for a man his age and stature. Ryo stood frozen, fear and instinct telling him to run away, but he could not. Something was holding him there, in front of the fire, in front of Detrimentus, in front of the dagger. The old man stepped forward his eyes blazing with excitement and malice, holding the dagger against Ryo's throat. The warrior flinched, knowing he could not escape. The once cool metal felt as though it was on fire. The searing pain dug into Ryo's flesh as Detrimentus pushed the blade against Ryo's throat. He screamed.
A/N: Ooo, cliffhanger! Nice, eh? Well, I'd like to say I write without the impetus of reviews, but they really do help my writing. I want to feel compelled to write, so I need you guys to help me out. Please, review and tell me what you think. Thanks.
A/N: Argh, it's been quite a while. I have to be in the right mood to write. The chapter is longer than the others, and I'm quite proud of this one. Just beware of spelling goofs. My stupid word processor decided to stop spellchecking my work, so I did my best with a quick glance. Please excuse any small mistakes and enjoy!
A dream within a dream. A nightmare within reality. What had happened? Ryo forced himself to open his eyes. His eyelids slowly obeyed, opening like rusted iron gates. His vision was met with pure blue sky, swimming with fluffy white clouds that resembled marshmallows and cotton, soaring in the atmosphere, like fish in a bowl.
Tentatively, Ryo flexed his hands; they were both there. He raised himself from the ground and was met with a sharp pain in his back, trailing up his spine towards his neck. He cried out in agony and surprise, falling back onto the sandy soil. Ryo guessed that he had fallen on his back when he lost consciousness. That vision had seemed so real. But, he could trust Whiteblaze; there was no reason to believe that Whiteblaze would hurt him or any of the other Ronins.
Ryo wondered what the others were doing at that very moment. He wondered if they were trying to help him. Sighing, he pushed the thoughts of despair out of his mind. He knew the guys were trying to help them, but a sense of hopelessness sprouted in his heart when he thought of his friends. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself off the ground, allowing the sharp pain to wrack his body. He had to do this alone. No one could help him.
After walking for several hours, the pain in his back slowly receded. His feet were covered in a thick layer and dirt and sand; his soles and toes bled. Sharp rocks were camouflaged in the soil and remained unseen to Ryo. He often stubbed his toes in them or walked directly on top of them, which resulted in a sharp, unwelcome pain. Though he began to grow weary, he trudged on, knowing that something or someone was lying in wait for him.
Oddly, the sky remained unchanged. It never grew dark, and the clouds never disappeared. It was eternal daylight in the nightmare Ryo was living. Though, Ryo noticed a decrease in temperature, even though the time of day was not changing. It slowly became colder, and he rubbed his hands over his arms in quick, smooth motions in order to stay warm. Soon, the temperature would become like an icy chill. Ryo knew that deserts experienced the two extremes of temperatures- hot and cold. He forced himself to keep walking, though his body began to shake uncontrollably with tremors induced by the cold.
Ryo had to find shelter, otherwise, he would be forced to face the chill of night. Normally, he would have depended on his armor to save him, knowing Wildfire would provide not only heat, but a large portion of courage to his already thinning bravery. Goosebumps attacked his skin, and his hairs stood on end. Ryo could feel his face tightening in the cold and his teeth chattering. Suddenly, he spied a light in the distance. Fire. Ryo could almost feel the warmth radiating from the flame. Gathering the last of his strength, he ran to the source of the fire, willing himself to reach it. His feet pounded against the sand, producing trails of blood as he sprinted towards the fire. The temperature of his body raised only slightly, barely registering with Ryo. He half-climbed, half-sprinted up a small dune, his eyes wild with weariness and desperation. Upon reaching the top, he slid down the hill slightly, his feet loosing balance and grip. The sand greeted his body, and enveloped his flesh and he fell. Ryo flailed his arms and limbs, fighting the sand until he regained balance and went over the top of the hill, running.
A temple came into his sight. It was small, square, but carved beautifully out of stone and marble. Fires gleamed from inside, baring light to the world through windows. Figures were carved in the stone, but he was too desperate to notice. Ryo sprinted to the building before skidding to a halt in awe as he gazed upon the majesty of the building. It was no bigger than Mia's house, but it was grander and more exciting. Ryo walked inside slowly, his feet trailing blood and tracking dirt inside. Oddly, the marble was warm, and he knew that this could not be possible, but the need for warmth overwhelmed his curiosity. He walked to a small fireplace on the east side of the temple and crouched before it, holding his hands out in front of the fire.
When his body was finally warm again, Ryo stood up to his full height, feeling soothed and strengthened by the prescience of the fire, his element. His senses were heightened. Ryo sensed another prescience in the temple and tensed to fight. His muscles cried in protest, but he pushed the pain aside, letting the fire soothe his sores.
"Show yourself," Ryo barely recognized the sound of his own voice. It was horse and forced from lack of use and the cold.
Ryo waited, frozen the defensive position, until he spotted a shadow from the back of the temple, slithering over to him slowly.
"Come to the light, demon," Ryo said, the tone of his voice compiled of fear, anger, and curiousity.
"As you wish, my lord," A smooth, yet aged voice answered.
The shadow grew into a man, bent over with age, his hair white and thinning. The man raised his head and looked at Ryo with eyes of gray. He was dressed in a simple brown robe that tied at the waist. He bowed slightly, which looked almost comical in his already bent over position.
"I am Detrimentus, my lord."
"I am no lord of yours."
Detrimentus smiled and looked up into Ryo's tiger blue eyes, searching for something.
"But you will be, if you wish it."
The old man produced a dagger from beneath the folds of his robe. He handled it with care and respect, holding it out to Ryo. The dagger was made of silver, its hilt covered in dark jewels, which reflected Ryo's eyes when he looking into them. The blade was long and thin, and the light from the fire bounced off onto the metal. Ryo could see the stars reflected in the blade, and he looked out through one of the windows, amazed by the night that had covered the sky. It had been day only moments ago.
Detrimentus held the dagger out to Ryo, hilt first. The warrior felt compelled to hold it, so he reached out to the dagger, curiosity overtaking his normally wary demeanor. The blade felt cool in his hands. It was richly crafted, Ryo noticed upon further inspection. The dagger was perfectly balanced, obviously made by an experienced blacksmith. Its beauty shone with a quiet sense of deadliness.
"My lord?" Detrimentus questioned meekly.
Ryo raised his head, tearing his eyes away from the beauty of the weapon.
"This dagger offers you unimaginable power, but only if you wish it."
"How would I attain such power?" Ryo asked, feeling as though he was being pulled under the spell of the dagger.
"You must offer yourself to it completely, my lord."
"A gift?"
"No, my lord, a sacrifice."
"What could I possibly sacrifice?"
"Yourself, my lord."
Ryo dropped the dagger, the clang of the metal hitting the floor echoed in the stone temple. The fires played light off of the two faces. Detrimentus smiled and picked up the dagger with such a speed that was not possible for a man his age and stature. Ryo stood frozen, fear and instinct telling him to run away, but he could not. Something was holding him there, in front of the fire, in front of Detrimentus, in front of the dagger. The old man stepped forward his eyes blazing with excitement and malice, holding the dagger against Ryo's throat. The warrior flinched, knowing he could not escape. The once cool metal felt as though it was on fire. The searing pain dug into Ryo's flesh as Detrimentus pushed the blade against Ryo's throat. He screamed.
A/N: Ooo, cliffhanger! Nice, eh? Well, I'd like to say I write without the impetus of reviews, but they really do help my writing. I want to feel compelled to write, so I need you guys to help me out. Please, review and tell me what you think. Thanks.