Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yûgi in any way, so suing me would be a waste of Yuu Watase's time, and a waste of my two dollars (that's a hint that I have no money for which to sue for). All the new characters (especially the bishonen) and the plotline belong to me, and only me, and cannot be taken unless you ask nicely. We'll discuss it over a cup of tea. Until then, I hope you enjoy my story.
Aeternum Vale takes place a year and a half after then end of the second OVA, so this story is a canon of everything preceding that OVA. So picture it the September before the December two-year anniversary of when the book was first opened by Miaka and Yui. The third OVA never happened in this fanfiction – not that I don't like it or anything, but the third one was too final of an ending for me. Plus, I couldn't stand Mayo…I wanted to smack her so many times! (sighs)
On a serious note, this arc of the story is rated PG-13 due to violence, language, adult situations, and thematic elements. However, this rating will most likely change when the second arc of Aeternum Vale is added. The second half, I'm already going to warn you readers, is much darker and violent than this first half. Issues of the real world will play a part in that half – teenage pregnancy, drug abuse, racism, sexual assault, and others. TAKE THIS AS A WARNING BEFORE YOU EVEN START PART ONE.
So other than using discretion in reading this story, I hope you enjoy Aeternum Vale and review when you have finished reading the chapters. Thank you very much!
Musical selection: "You Gotta Be" performed by Des'ree
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- CHAPTER 00: EMPTY PAGES -
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The priestess bid her seishi farewell, assured that someday they would all meet again. And, with her beloved protector, she vanished from the world of her warriors and returned to her own world. So concludes the tale of the priestess of Suzaku and her adventures in the quest to summon her patron god…
A rustling of pages in the wind, scattering them if they weren't bound together.
When all is said and done, the time for the priestess to be within this world fades. She departs, her three wishes granted, and attends back to her own world, to her own time. Yet the strands of fate are strong and powerful, and once the lives of the priestess' seishi have been touched, nothing can undo fate's hand in the matter. For all eternity, the Seven will be connected to their priestess, devoted always, guardians forever. That is the way all journeys must end, back at the beginning.
At journey's end…darkness lingers even when the light expands.
When darkness threatens once again, the constellations of the palaces of heaven will fall into chaos and oblivion. And this is where the new legend begins, a new tale that combines the four palaces of the heavens. The stars of the heavenly corners of the earth will unite once again and summon Genbu, Byakko, Seiryu, and Suzaku. And the last and most powerful of the priestesses will call the final god from the heavens, summon the sacred key, and save all worlds from destruction.
Metal chains tie them down, clasping them from the heavens.
So is the beginning of the end of the last legend of the Universe of the Four Gods…
The four palaces of heaven.
Seven stars for each, all lost in the flow of time – the last of the priestesses had summoned Suzaku and had returned to her own world. The stars of Suzaku and Seiryu conflicted in a fiery war – four red lights diminished, six blue lights diminished. The war had taken its toll on the followers of the two gods.
Genbu lays resting, his priestess gone for hundreds of years. Byakko watches over her country, the last of her seishi gone. Seiryu sleeps in his watery dwelling, the seven lights under his name vanished. Suzaku soars over the country of Konan, mourning the loss of his four warriors.
The four priestesses – Takiko, Suzuno, Yui, Miaka – all have completed their course, and the Universe of the Four Gods is finished…
…but within the shadows of a forgotten recess, the pages rustle restlessly in torment.
Who is the key?
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Nishimura Masazumi hummed tunelessly to himself as he swept the broom across the empty library floors. Not that anyone visited often enough to leave much of a mess anymore, but it was his job, and one that he took pride in doing, no matter how lousy the pay. Janitors were underrated workers, the bottom of every occupational chain. But without the work of those on the bottom rung, how would the rest of the ladder stay together?
He had been working as a janitor at the National Library for quite some time now – in fact, this coming March, it would be his fifth year working there. One year a little too long for these old bones, he thought cheerfully, picking up a stray book lying dormant on the ground and stuffing it back into its proper place on the shelves. One of these days, I'm going to retire. It had been his wish for the past year to do such, wanting to spend more time with his wife, children, and thirteen little grandchildren (it might have been fourteen now, but they all looked the same, so he could hardly keep track of the original ten).
Masazumi swept the tiny collection of dust into his dustpan, and emptied it out into the rolling trashcan he lugged behind him. He honestly wished he didn't have to work so late to clean such a large library. His fellow janitor had suddenly come down with a whooping cough and had gone home just a few hours previous. Masazumi wondered why in the world he never got sick days like that, and admitted to himself that, though being fifty-seven years of age, was still as robustly insusceptible to illness as a stalwart college youth.
So that left him wandering up and down the long aisles of the library, sandwiched by huge walls of books. Sometimes, one would catch his interest and he would take it out for a moment to examine it. But not tonight. He was too tired, and wanted to get home to his wife who would scold him for working too hard. They'd have another one of their playful arguments before he would get a soda, and they'd fall asleep in front of the television watching her favourite soap opera reruns.
A smile drifted across his face as he stopped at the door at the second level of the library, a smile that soon disappeared as he glanced at the door, grimacing at it. His manager had said to go into this mostly ignored room and clean it out before the end of the week. He had ignored that command all week, but now his procrastination was coming back to haunt him. All those old books in there gave him a headache, and the sheer dungeon-like effect the room gave off didn't help either. He suspected that no one cleaned in that room for a year, and even when such a cleaning did happen, it wasn't thorough.
He swung the door open, gazing in, and frowned at the sight in front of him. The red exit glow cast an eerie crimson light to the shadows, and he turned to his left to flick the light switch on.
Nothing.
He tried again, and then once more, with no effect. Someone forgot to pay the electric bill…, he thought to himself, pulling a flashlight from his tool belt, and casting it on. A dim yellow beam of light split the shadows into two, to reveal the dusty wooden floor and the ancient decaying books stacked into shelves, completely unorganized and in disarray. He expects me to clean in here with no light? Well, I've got better things to do…but he'll wonder why I didn't tell him earlier on in the week…and I'll have to tell him why…The janitor muttered obscenities under his breath, and ventured into the room, looking for an alternate light source.
While searching, he gazed up at the hundreds of books surrounding him on either sides. Some of these books hadn't seen the light of day in decades, and looked it too. Some had faded covers, while others had none which to speak of, and were written in obscurely old languages. Dust and age prevented some even being recognizable as books. Masazumi shook his head – such a waste of perfectly good literature. It almost made him want to sit down and read one of-
He stumbled suddenly, pitching forward into the darkness. He managed to catch himself before falling face first into the dusty floor at his feet. Spinning around, he turned the flashlight's beam to the floor to see what in the world had made him nearly break a hip. He glared at the accusing obstruction, bending down to examine it. A book – old, covered in a light sheen in dust, with a faded crimson cover. He picked it up, wondering how it had fallen out, revealing its pages to the shadows. It was filled with illustrations in black ink, all of which made no sense whatsoever. He flipped to the beginning of the book, struggling to recall the calligraphic kanji he hadn't thought of since his freshman year in high school, far too many years back than he cared to acknowledge.
"'Herein contains the tale of a young lady and her quest to gather the constellations of the four palaces of Heaven and Earth, to summon the final god…'" Masazumi chuckled. "It's a children's story!" He closed the book and glanced for its place in the shelves. Light or no light, he wasn't doing this job tonight. He'd rather risk being fired than stumbling over another book that might leave him with a nasty bruise on any portion of anatomy.
He placed the book between two thick volumes about Japanese history, wiped off his pants, and started towards the door, starting to hum the old song again.
"The final beast god is sealed…the last priestess awaits her destiny…"
Masazumi spun around, frowning. Where in the world was that voice coming from…?
"The destiny they chose leads them into the paths of chaos, amidst the worlds of fire and the worlds of ice…"
Masazumi lifted his flashlight to where he had placed the book, and when he saw it, took an involuntary step backwards. Oily black shadows dripped from the shelf as the book glowed a dull violet. The droplets of shadows accumulated into a puddle on the floor that slowly slid towards him. Masazumi dropped his flashlight in stunned horror, and turned to race towards the door, not believing his eyes.
But the shadows were prepared for that.
Masazumi felt an invisible force tug at his wrists and ankles as his body heavily fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He coughed in protest, eyes searching for the door as he pulled his body up. It wasn't until then did he feel the growing pressure around his throat, crushing his windpipe, suffocating him.
I must make it to the door…I must…
He grabbed at the edge of the door, pulling his body into the main library, but the pressure was still there, and by now, his strength had evaporated. Oxygen depleted, he felt his body go limp. His last conscious thought was, this is what I get for procrastinating…
The shadows hovered over the man's limp body, as if waiting for him to get up and make a run for it. When it became obvious that he would not be rising any time soon, the shadows crept out into the main library, ignoring the body and spreading to the other shadows created by the wall bookcases.
The stronger the light, the darker the shadows. Emerge once again. Justice will be obliterated. Confine their hearts and mutilate their minds. This page, this simple world, will be thrown into the Apocalypse. Awaken, the inner me.
The shadows recoiled once, then dispersed.
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"I don't understand it, Ryosei-kun," the young girl whined, throwing her pencil down into the folds of the book. "Why do I have to know this silly stuff about Father Latour and his trip to America anyway? I'm already in high school – it's pointless now!" The young man sitting next to her sighed, rubbing the back of his head, and removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose – a sign of quickly growing irritation.
"Keiko-chan, you'll have to learn how to do this now or you won't graduate from high school! You don't want to be a freshman forever, do you?" Keiko rolled her eyes, and placed her forehead on her desk, muttering beneath her breath. Arai Ryosei groaned, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He hadn't taken these evening tutoring sessions just to be ignored and griped at for the majority of the time. Keiko was a bright student – she just hated doing the work. Ryosei had been suggested by the teacher to Keiko's parents to allow him to tutor the girl in a variety of subjects.
Tonight was the most dreaded – English literature.
Ryosei ran a hand through light-brown hair and managed to stifle another groan. "Keiko-chan, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go get some ice cream. Please, bear with me for another half an hour." Keiko scowled, propping her book up and glaring at the foreign language that made little to no sense for her.
"Fine. But you're treating."
Ryosei rolled his eyes, but nodded, glad to have a somewhat cooperating soul with him now. He turned to the book…and paused. Just for the briefest of moments…had there been a black shadow lying across the English words, thick and oily with promised malice? He frowned at the book, and decided it must have been the angle he was holding it at. He slipped his reading glasses back down his nose, and gestured to Keiko.
"Come on. Let's read this passage over again."
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Tara Jun peeked over to where her twin brother was currently curled up in the airport's terminal chairs. Dark bangs flounced into closed eyes as the boy (Adult, she chided herself mentally) viciously clung to the two carry-on duffels he had, completely ignorant of the giggling passersby that caught his small form squeezed into the chair. She wanted to laugh outright too, but that would have woken him up, and she didn't want that.
He had begged her to come to the airport with him, having said his other good-byes at home. It had been tearful for everyone except him, always the optimistic killjoy who had told everyone that he'd be back on holidays and other vacation days and that he'd call really early in the morning just to wake everyone up to let them know how much he missed them…
Tara sniffled, pretending that she wasn't crying. She didn't want her brother to go, even if it was for a good reason – he had received a scholarship to study abroad in any country of his choice, a hefty feat for one so young. She had always thought he would go to Korea, the land of their ancestors, but he had simply laughed and told her of his desires to visit the booming megatropolis of a country a bit more similar to theirs. She had been overjoyed for him, but in her heart, she was always crying. The twin she had known for nineteen years, almost twenty this coming May, was going away for who knows how long. They had never been more than three miles apart from each other, and it was tearing her up inside to let him go.
He knew her agony, and invited only her to the airport to see him off. Ryan, Kim, and Dakota had been less than pleased at that, but soon accepted it as 'the way twins worked.' But when the flight had been delayed by two hours, the exhaustion of the sorrowful good-byes and the last few week of packing had finally taken its toll on the youth, and he had fallen asleep soon afterwards. She wasn't mad at him – it gave her plenty of time to reminisce about the past, and shed more tears. She'd yell at him when he woke up.
Turning back to her book, a rueful smile on her face, Tara did not notice the brief shadow pass between them before disappearing as if it were never there.
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Kitagawa Shizuka watched the opera on stage with rapt fascination. Her husband sat to her right, leaning forward with his eyes closed, a bemused smile on his face as he took in the strong symbolism in the young opera singer's soprano voice as she sang about the miseries of jealousy, and the swollen heart of a betrayed lover. Shizuka hummed quietly to herself, folding her hands on her lap, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in the posh periwinkle gown.
She leaned to her left and glimpsed at her son, who was resting his hand on his cheek as if he were bored with the entire opera. She raised an eyebrow and prodded him gently with one finger. "How is it?" she whispered to him, careful not to raise her voice too loudly. He smiled politely and nodded, turning his attention back to the stage. Shizuka nodded in approval and turned to lean on her husband's shoulder.
Hisaki glanced at his mother, a slow frown appearing on his face, glad that she hadn't taken the time to notice the boredom in his eyes. He hated going to these theatrical events with his parents, despite the fact that he knew it was to educate him in the arts. It made for a good résumé, especially for one of the top bachelors in the upper social class of Japan. All the wealthy families who had daughters were sending them to him to catch his eyes. That was something he hated even more than the fancy dinners and insufferable operas – snobbish, spoiled debutantes who always had Daddy pay for everything in their life.
It wasn't as if he was ungrateful for the privileged life he had led so far – he was always courteously indebted to his parents for seeing that he had the best education money could buy, and that his social time wasn't wasted or ruined. But, despite all of this, Hisaki wished they'd allow him to just go sometimes. And it wasn't as if he would do anything stupid – their name was far too public to risk scandal. But he was nineteen this past spring, and he wanted to act like any other young man his age.
He wasn't like Naoya.
Somehow, he knew that it would take a miracle, and a good amount of terrible luck, to make that happen. With an inward sigh, he turned his attention somewhat to the performance on stage, wondering when in the world the first act would be done with.
He didn't see the shadows swarming under his seat.
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The restaurant doors flew open, and a quartet of college students hurried down the steps, laughing and talking loudly in the night air. Some people threw curious looks their way, others looks of longing as they remembered the time of their youth when life had been so carefree and winsome. The group headed towards the parking lot adjacent to the restaurant, the blonde in the quartet the obvious butt of some joke that had them all roaring with laughter.
"Honestly, Lily," one of the young men reprimanded in chiding tone. "You must learn to control your temper. I'm sure that waiter didn't mean to mistake you for a man." The blonde huffed in anger, cheeks enflamed red.
"Do I look like a man to you!?" she demanded, tossing a stray strand of fair hair over her shoulder in an obvious show of hurt pride. "I thought I was beautiful – it's why I won prom queen at high school! Plus, I was popular! All the boys said so."
"Popularly adorable," the redhead in the group giggled, trying to soothe her friend's ruffled feathers. "They're just kidding, Lily. Ignore them. They're brutes. Especially that boyfriend of mine over there." She gestured to the tall, lanky young man who had spoken before. He grinned at the comment before ruffling Lily's hair.
"Poor Lily-bird," he teased. "We'll make sure to dress you in a really hot number next time we come here." He turned to his friend. "Right, Kai?" The quiet youth looked up, a slow smile appearing like a ghost onto his rugged features.
"Why are you trying to put my girlfriend in a tight outfit?" he asked in an uncharacteristic display of humour. The redhead's eyebrows shot into her messy bangs and she hit her boyfriend in an obvious show of faked anger.
"Yeah! What are you doing suggesting that about his girlfriend!?"
"Well…I…"
"Yamato!"
Lily rolled her eyes up towards the stars, ignoring the two as they walked towards the car they had all taken to get here. It was a rare nights when they were able to actually leave the university campus and spend quality time with one another. She linked her arm through her boyfriend's, sending him a radiant smile as they followed behind the bickering couple.
Shadows, following close behind, surged towards them.
Who is the key?
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Author's Note: (6-24-04) Changed Lee's name to Kai. That's about it. Once again, early in the story, so I hope it won't confuse anyone in the future.
(5-2-04) Not much of a major change. I changed some people's names (the janitor, Ryo to Ryosei, Kuboshi to Yamato, and Shika to Shizuka), but fortunately, it's still early in the story so it shouldn't be that big of a deal. I wanted to make it more authentic in the Japanese names. ;
(4-20-04) And that's the first chapter of Aeternum Vale. I hope you guys like it so far. I'm not the best of writers, I know, and I'm still working on creating the mood and suspense for upcoming chapters. I'd love for you guys to review this story – it's my newborn baby, and its siblings are picking on it! Remember, it takes a village to raise a child, and it takes reviews to raise a story.
This chapter is dedicated to Sarah-chan, for making me realize that I am truly obsessed with Fushigi Yugi. (It must be all the bishonen!). Next thing I'll know, I'll probably end up doing a Rurouni Kenshin story – heaven help me if that's so, I've got too many other fanfictions to take care of. Plus, I have this habit of not writing SHORT chapters (this was a prologue, it didn't count). I don't feel that a story is a story without a chapter that reaches the 10000-word point. I'm sorry, guys! I try to be considerate with my readers, but sometimes I have this awesome idea that takes awhile to get across. (Ranting is good thing – I do it my essays all the time)
Now, I've decided to become an even cooler writer by, get this, writing side stories! Y'know, those crazy little things that my muse decides I should write. My muse, by the way, is a blue turtle made of smoked glass. It's just the CUTEST thing that I wear on top of my head whenever I'm feeling down. As of lately though, my muse has been missing so my stories haven't been exactly constant with the updates. (Cinderella, for instance).
By the way, the book that Ryo and Keiko are reading is Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather – honestly, the most BORING book ever to be written on the face of the planet. It has absolutely no plot, no character development, and no interesting hula dancers! I hope My Antonia wasn't that bad, because the Archbishop one sucked. (At least I got to rant in an essay on it about how it had no plot – I got a high score, too!)
So, who are these shadows stalking? (Like you don't know). The ride is just beginning, folks! Strap up and sit down, because the next chapter promises to answer some of these questions and more. (winks) Until then, dasvidanya!
- Nashie-chan