Authoress here.
Now I shall deal with conflicting storylines. I know King Yama is supposed to be the head honcho of Spirit World, and therefore of dead people. And now I incorporate gods and goddesses into the mix!
So, my readers, simply believe in the power of fanfiction to make sense of it all.
Also, I don't own the Kenshin song Freckles. Nor do I ever want to own it. Let there be collective shuddering.
In this chapter, we finally get to meet its namesake: The Narrin herself!
Yujo Chronicles: Narrin's Story Chapter Two
It was one of those mornings where the sun hitting your face was the best wake up call, and the gentle singing of songbirds out your window created a serene atmosphere that begged you to fall asleep again.
Narrilorinia, Goddess of Honeyed Tongues, felt the gentle beams of sunlight playing over her closed eyelids. She smiled in content, snuggling deeper into the creamy-colored silken sheets she lay upon. How good it was to be a goddess, reaping the benefits of living high above mortals! Surrounded by beauty, peace, and fellow gods and goddesses!
Harsh reality stopped her in the middle of the thought, and her ice blue eyes flew open. She sat up, dark, silken hair tangled and mussed about her shoulders. Though still magnificent, the walls surrounding her where not of the summit of Olympus, home of the gods. Instead, her eyes lingered on the walls of the majestic castle of the royal family of France. Her new home.
She groaned, and fell back into the goose feather pillow. Flashing like a terrible storm before her eyes was The Memory. The Memory from only two months ago.
"Narrilorinia, were thy actions thy own?" The great boom of a voice washed over the trembling goddess. It was the Lord of the Gods, Mercury. His bristling red beard hid the stern mouth that would deliver her fate.
She bowed her head, two golden tears making trails down her porcelain face. "Y-Yes, Milord."
The murmurs of the other gods and goddesses met her ears. Mercury sighed. "Well then. Thou are no longer welcome here. Thou must leave, or stay to thine own death."
She stood again, shock falling over her body like ice-water.
"Thou art stripped of thy full, elite name. Narrilorinia is now only a memory to thee. Narrin I name thee, and cast thee off of this sacred mount."
"Milady?"
Narrin jumped. Turning quickly, she saw a Frenchmen standing at her door, face respectfully averted. She sighed, and began to speak. Being the goddess of Honeyed Tongues, she had no problem with the French dialect
"Franque, what do you require?"
"Milday, I have word from the German ambassador. He is available to meet with you today, any time you wish."
Narrin sighed, and pulled a deep blue dressing robe from the rack where it had hung. Pulling it on, she rose from the bed. "Tell the ambassador I shall hold audience with him 'round three. That shall be all."
He bowed, and backed out of the room, leaving the goddess to her own thoughts.
From the base of the great mountain Olympus, Narrin had fallen to the ground, bitter golden tears falling from her eyes. Liquid gold, the water of the gods, in its purest form was indeed the tears of a god. Narrin had sat there staring at the spot of gold on the ashy black earth, letting bitterness and contempt build in her heart.
"I am a goddess. I do not belong here, here where mortals trod!" Standing abruptly, Narrin had shaken her fist at the cloud-concealed summit of Mount Olympus. "I belong up there!"
Her crime hadn't been that bad, Narrin had fumed. She had merely seduced Mercury's youngest son, the God of Dreams. She had asked him to send the mortals dreams of her, in her beauty, so that they would build her a temple.
"Is it so wrong to ask for something I should have? I am a goddess; it is my right to have mortals grovel and give homage to me, and me alone!"
A rage that had been long pent up burst, as though water had broken through a dam. She was tired of being inferior! Tired of always being second best! Tired of not having power!
So the goddess began to plot. If she couldn't gain her rightful respect among the gods, she would certainly do it here among mortals!
She had searched long for a country she liked. But every one she visited had a flaw; too small, the language was ugly, the people weren't to her exact wishes, and so on. Despairing of ever find the perfect kingdom, she had finally come to France.
The lilting language had been the intriguing part for her. Then, the gentle charm of the countryside, the cheerful atmosphere of the city of Paris, the grandeur of the old buildings. It was perfect, and Narrin would have it.
Disguised as a lady of great standings, Narrin had manipulated an audience with the current King of France. Using her powerful gifts, she had him agreeing that she would be the perfect Queen, and he was practically begging her to take his place. She "reluctantly" agreed.
Once the King was won over, Parliament was pathetically easy. Within two weeks of her first audience with the current king, they had made an official document stating that royalty and the crown of France was henceforth belonging to Narrin and her future heirs.
The people of France had only to hear her sweet voice to be won over by this sudden change. In one week, the entire country was throwing parades in her honor, sending her gifts and other praises. Though, her favriote by far was the statue being made in her likeliness.
Narrin smiled, surveying the surrounding room she now sat in. Richly furnished, it suited her perfectly. Fresh lilacs and baby's breath adorned all the finely sculpted vases around the room, and her toes buried themselves comfortably in the rich, deep carpet.
"Finally." Narrin whispered. She sat at the small table and gazed at her reflection in the mirror above it. An oval face stared back at her, skin smooth and pale. A hint of color graced high cheekbones,that slid gracefully up to ice blue eyes. Perfect, full, wine-colored lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile.
From the start of eternity until now, Narrin had been belittled, overlooked, scorned, teased and hurt over and over by other gods. Being one of the lesser goddesses, she couldn't fight back, and when justly she tried to take a bit of the spotlight, she was cast away like a broken plaything. And now, she had a country throwing themselves at her feet. And if one country was so easy, how much harder could the world be? There were few to oppose her.
Her reflection's smile mirrored her own as she smiled all the wider.
"I finally am where I shall be appreciated."
...
Aya shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair in the hospital. The nurse had told him the real Aya, his sister, was currently being bathed and he had to wait to go in and see her.
Aya, formerly Ran, didn't mind the wait. If this Koenma did as promised, this was the last time he had to ever see his sister in her comatose state. Soon, his beloved sister would awaken.
"Excuse me?"
Aya looked up to see his sister's regular nurse smiling at him. "Yes?"
"You may come in now."
"Thank you."
He followed the woman into the familiar room and made straight for the chair next to the bed. The nurse backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"Heya, kid. It's Ran again." Aya picked up his sister's hand, opting for the one without the IV needle imbedded in her slender wrist. "I got good news for you."
He watched her face. Her eyelids didn't even flutter, and she didn't react to his touch. He sighed. But he was used to it.
"Guess what, sis?" He squeezed her hand affectionately. "I just made a deal that's gonna wake you up."
The weight of the statement seemed to make his shoulders sag. He hung his head, and tears came unbidden to his eyes.
"But only if I can do-what was it Koenma wanted?- Stop this ex- goddess from taking over France? Oh sis...If only you were awake. I'd forget Wieß Kreuz, forget this job. I'd take care of you, help you with your homework, chase off all the men trying to be your boyfriend."
He drew a shuddering breath. The feeling of urgency came over him, without explanation. Perhaps it was because this was the last time he'd be able to spill out his feelings to his old memory of his sister. When she woke up, the doctor had warned him she might not remember a thing.
"Y' see, sis, I don't know if you'll like what I've become. I've k- killed a man. I've killed lots of men, demons, you name it, I've done it. I don't want you to know about any of that."
He paused again, simply watching his sister's peaceful face, drawing from the view the strength to keep talking.
"I just want the two of us to be a family again. I want you to laugh at my corny jokes! And, by the way, when you wake up, I'll be well practiced in stupid, brother-like things to say all the time. I'll have memorized every joke in every book there is. You know, sis, the things I've missed most about you is your laugh. And your voice."
He blinked the tears away, a wide and rare smile gracing his mouth.
"You laughed at everything. You sang off key in the shower every morning, and sometimes I'd flush the toilet to make your shower water go cold. Just to make you stop singing. I'd give everything to hear you sing Freckles flat again."
He sat in silence for awhile more, letting his mind wander. After a half an hour, the nurse quietly opened the door again.
"Sir, visiting time is almost over."
"Thank you, Sekki. I'll be off in a moment."
The nurse smiled and closed the door again.
"You heard Sekki, sis. I must leave for awhile, to secure your safe waking. I love you."
Aya bent to kiss his sister's forehead, and squeezed her hand before turning towards the exit.
It might of been his own hopeful imagination, but Aya thought he heard the heart rate monitor speed up minutely as he kissed her. He shook his head, banishing the thought. Once he left the hospital, his cold exterior was back, covering him like the long black trench coat he wore. His mind and being were now totally focused on one goal:
Opposing the goddess.
End Chapter
Authoress here.
I let my creative juices build up for awhile before starting this chapter, and I'm glad. The descriptive part isn't really my specialty. In my opinion, I excel more in character conversation. But this chapter turned out rather well, if I may say so myself.
Perhaps it has something to do with...that delicate time of month. I turn all my frustration into creativity. Hrm. I shall ponder that for awhile.
And a big thanks to LadyKatsu, who dropped me tasty tidbits about Weiß that I have used for the good of the story.
Review away, comrades!
Now I shall deal with conflicting storylines. I know King Yama is supposed to be the head honcho of Spirit World, and therefore of dead people. And now I incorporate gods and goddesses into the mix!
So, my readers, simply believe in the power of fanfiction to make sense of it all.
Also, I don't own the Kenshin song Freckles. Nor do I ever want to own it. Let there be collective shuddering.
In this chapter, we finally get to meet its namesake: The Narrin herself!
Yujo Chronicles: Narrin's Story Chapter Two
It was one of those mornings where the sun hitting your face was the best wake up call, and the gentle singing of songbirds out your window created a serene atmosphere that begged you to fall asleep again.
Narrilorinia, Goddess of Honeyed Tongues, felt the gentle beams of sunlight playing over her closed eyelids. She smiled in content, snuggling deeper into the creamy-colored silken sheets she lay upon. How good it was to be a goddess, reaping the benefits of living high above mortals! Surrounded by beauty, peace, and fellow gods and goddesses!
Harsh reality stopped her in the middle of the thought, and her ice blue eyes flew open. She sat up, dark, silken hair tangled and mussed about her shoulders. Though still magnificent, the walls surrounding her where not of the summit of Olympus, home of the gods. Instead, her eyes lingered on the walls of the majestic castle of the royal family of France. Her new home.
She groaned, and fell back into the goose feather pillow. Flashing like a terrible storm before her eyes was The Memory. The Memory from only two months ago.
"Narrilorinia, were thy actions thy own?" The great boom of a voice washed over the trembling goddess. It was the Lord of the Gods, Mercury. His bristling red beard hid the stern mouth that would deliver her fate.
She bowed her head, two golden tears making trails down her porcelain face. "Y-Yes, Milord."
The murmurs of the other gods and goddesses met her ears. Mercury sighed. "Well then. Thou are no longer welcome here. Thou must leave, or stay to thine own death."
She stood again, shock falling over her body like ice-water.
"Thou art stripped of thy full, elite name. Narrilorinia is now only a memory to thee. Narrin I name thee, and cast thee off of this sacred mount."
"Milady?"
Narrin jumped. Turning quickly, she saw a Frenchmen standing at her door, face respectfully averted. She sighed, and began to speak. Being the goddess of Honeyed Tongues, she had no problem with the French dialect
"Franque, what do you require?"
"Milday, I have word from the German ambassador. He is available to meet with you today, any time you wish."
Narrin sighed, and pulled a deep blue dressing robe from the rack where it had hung. Pulling it on, she rose from the bed. "Tell the ambassador I shall hold audience with him 'round three. That shall be all."
He bowed, and backed out of the room, leaving the goddess to her own thoughts.
From the base of the great mountain Olympus, Narrin had fallen to the ground, bitter golden tears falling from her eyes. Liquid gold, the water of the gods, in its purest form was indeed the tears of a god. Narrin had sat there staring at the spot of gold on the ashy black earth, letting bitterness and contempt build in her heart.
"I am a goddess. I do not belong here, here where mortals trod!" Standing abruptly, Narrin had shaken her fist at the cloud-concealed summit of Mount Olympus. "I belong up there!"
Her crime hadn't been that bad, Narrin had fumed. She had merely seduced Mercury's youngest son, the God of Dreams. She had asked him to send the mortals dreams of her, in her beauty, so that they would build her a temple.
"Is it so wrong to ask for something I should have? I am a goddess; it is my right to have mortals grovel and give homage to me, and me alone!"
A rage that had been long pent up burst, as though water had broken through a dam. She was tired of being inferior! Tired of always being second best! Tired of not having power!
So the goddess began to plot. If she couldn't gain her rightful respect among the gods, she would certainly do it here among mortals!
She had searched long for a country she liked. But every one she visited had a flaw; too small, the language was ugly, the people weren't to her exact wishes, and so on. Despairing of ever find the perfect kingdom, she had finally come to France.
The lilting language had been the intriguing part for her. Then, the gentle charm of the countryside, the cheerful atmosphere of the city of Paris, the grandeur of the old buildings. It was perfect, and Narrin would have it.
Disguised as a lady of great standings, Narrin had manipulated an audience with the current King of France. Using her powerful gifts, she had him agreeing that she would be the perfect Queen, and he was practically begging her to take his place. She "reluctantly" agreed.
Once the King was won over, Parliament was pathetically easy. Within two weeks of her first audience with the current king, they had made an official document stating that royalty and the crown of France was henceforth belonging to Narrin and her future heirs.
The people of France had only to hear her sweet voice to be won over by this sudden change. In one week, the entire country was throwing parades in her honor, sending her gifts and other praises. Though, her favriote by far was the statue being made in her likeliness.
Narrin smiled, surveying the surrounding room she now sat in. Richly furnished, it suited her perfectly. Fresh lilacs and baby's breath adorned all the finely sculpted vases around the room, and her toes buried themselves comfortably in the rich, deep carpet.
"Finally." Narrin whispered. She sat at the small table and gazed at her reflection in the mirror above it. An oval face stared back at her, skin smooth and pale. A hint of color graced high cheekbones,that slid gracefully up to ice blue eyes. Perfect, full, wine-colored lips curved upwards in a self-satisfied smile.
From the start of eternity until now, Narrin had been belittled, overlooked, scorned, teased and hurt over and over by other gods. Being one of the lesser goddesses, she couldn't fight back, and when justly she tried to take a bit of the spotlight, she was cast away like a broken plaything. And now, she had a country throwing themselves at her feet. And if one country was so easy, how much harder could the world be? There were few to oppose her.
Her reflection's smile mirrored her own as she smiled all the wider.
"I finally am where I shall be appreciated."
...
Aya shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair in the hospital. The nurse had told him the real Aya, his sister, was currently being bathed and he had to wait to go in and see her.
Aya, formerly Ran, didn't mind the wait. If this Koenma did as promised, this was the last time he had to ever see his sister in her comatose state. Soon, his beloved sister would awaken.
"Excuse me?"
Aya looked up to see his sister's regular nurse smiling at him. "Yes?"
"You may come in now."
"Thank you."
He followed the woman into the familiar room and made straight for the chair next to the bed. The nurse backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"Heya, kid. It's Ran again." Aya picked up his sister's hand, opting for the one without the IV needle imbedded in her slender wrist. "I got good news for you."
He watched her face. Her eyelids didn't even flutter, and she didn't react to his touch. He sighed. But he was used to it.
"Guess what, sis?" He squeezed her hand affectionately. "I just made a deal that's gonna wake you up."
The weight of the statement seemed to make his shoulders sag. He hung his head, and tears came unbidden to his eyes.
"But only if I can do-what was it Koenma wanted?- Stop this ex- goddess from taking over France? Oh sis...If only you were awake. I'd forget Wieß Kreuz, forget this job. I'd take care of you, help you with your homework, chase off all the men trying to be your boyfriend."
He drew a shuddering breath. The feeling of urgency came over him, without explanation. Perhaps it was because this was the last time he'd be able to spill out his feelings to his old memory of his sister. When she woke up, the doctor had warned him she might not remember a thing.
"Y' see, sis, I don't know if you'll like what I've become. I've k- killed a man. I've killed lots of men, demons, you name it, I've done it. I don't want you to know about any of that."
He paused again, simply watching his sister's peaceful face, drawing from the view the strength to keep talking.
"I just want the two of us to be a family again. I want you to laugh at my corny jokes! And, by the way, when you wake up, I'll be well practiced in stupid, brother-like things to say all the time. I'll have memorized every joke in every book there is. You know, sis, the things I've missed most about you is your laugh. And your voice."
He blinked the tears away, a wide and rare smile gracing his mouth.
"You laughed at everything. You sang off key in the shower every morning, and sometimes I'd flush the toilet to make your shower water go cold. Just to make you stop singing. I'd give everything to hear you sing Freckles flat again."
He sat in silence for awhile more, letting his mind wander. After a half an hour, the nurse quietly opened the door again.
"Sir, visiting time is almost over."
"Thank you, Sekki. I'll be off in a moment."
The nurse smiled and closed the door again.
"You heard Sekki, sis. I must leave for awhile, to secure your safe waking. I love you."
Aya bent to kiss his sister's forehead, and squeezed her hand before turning towards the exit.
It might of been his own hopeful imagination, but Aya thought he heard the heart rate monitor speed up minutely as he kissed her. He shook his head, banishing the thought. Once he left the hospital, his cold exterior was back, covering him like the long black trench coat he wore. His mind and being were now totally focused on one goal:
Opposing the goddess.
End Chapter
Authoress here.
I let my creative juices build up for awhile before starting this chapter, and I'm glad. The descriptive part isn't really my specialty. In my opinion, I excel more in character conversation. But this chapter turned out rather well, if I may say so myself.
Perhaps it has something to do with...that delicate time of month. I turn all my frustration into creativity. Hrm. I shall ponder that for awhile.
And a big thanks to LadyKatsu, who dropped me tasty tidbits about Weiß that I have used for the good of the story.
Review away, comrades!