As Far as the Soul Goes
Author's Note: My first Shaman King fanfiction; I'll warn you immediately that I'm not terribly experienced with these. However, I felt the need to write one after spending three hours online and finding only mildly Badfic and many Worsefic for my pains.. and humor that really wasn't all that funny. Thereby, I wanted to create a fanfic that didn't /focus/ on implausible/plausible romance pairings, but rather, on the action and humor that endeared Shaman King to me in the first place.
If there's even the slightest detail that you find critquable, please pass the information on in the form of a brief, to-the-point review; that's rather the point of my posting anything online, isn't it..?
Enjoy the fic, insomuch as you can, considering it's only a prologue so far..
Disclaimer: I own neither Shaman King or Asakura Hao. However, if someone uncovers a way to bring him to the real world, he's mine.
Prologue:
Pinpoints of light danced above his eyes, lilting and swaying away from his grasp whenever he sought to bat them away. At last, muzzily, he sat up, gazing blearily at the dots of luminescence that twirled in a heaven too austere for his taste, too faded for his interest.
As his head rose, the dissolute blurs of light faded into tiny specks, and he was able to place them at last.
The stars.
But there was something coldly unfamiliar about their light, the malice with which they danced; a light glimmer within their touch, as though they knew something he did not.
He..
Who was he?
The answer came almost instantaneously, born of long habit and an obstinate determination to forge on upon his path.
I am Asakura Hao.
I am..
I am..
The words did not so much as stutter awkwardly to a stop as they did fade gradually, like childhood memories slipping from an adult mind. They moved swiftly from his reach, as sleekly untouchable as a stream, and he could not grasp them, try though he might. Only fragments of thought remained to him, and they spiraled through his mind in a torrent of confusion that almost bent his spine and forced him back down.
Shaman King.
My descendent, my twin, he who should have been my strength.
Conquered.
Spirit of the Flames, of the Fire.
Conquered, is that what I am?
Who conquered me?
The Shaman King.
But I am the Shaman King, not he!
With a swift efficiency that was belied by the slight, shaken steps he took, he rose silently to his feet. He did not glance about himself; he was much like his twin in such affairs, in that he was less than willing to sacrifice energy for the sake of useless fripperies and trivial actions. And it did not require a genius to recognize the mist that enshrouded him on all sides.
Rapidly, with a bland quiet he traced his way through the mist, moving aimlessly, rudderlessly. And for the first time, Asakura Hao came to the realization that he was wholly without a purpose, in a way that he had not been since he had first determined his desire to be the world's Shaman King.
But he was not entirely aimless; the stars overhead, the first signs to greet his wakening unto consciousness, remained still, an encouraging sign, even for one who had played his life by rules and definitives, rather than luck and signs. A brief smile flashed across his features, alluding to a joke that only he had caught, as he accorded them a nod, before striding onwards.
A golden thread traced its line across the skies, and had he been more appreciative, the shaman might have paused to admire its brief, fleeting beauty.
But he did not, and so it was only when it melted into the ground at his feet that Hao came to the realization that it was not a thread at all, but a golden road. And with a precise instinct, he thought he could pinpoint to where the road would lead him.
He was but half a soul, after all, and halves could not die when their other halves remained alive.
to be continued?
Author's Note: Opinions, anyone, on what I should do with this? Continue it? Throw it away as a bad concept (it was written at two in the morning, after all)? Feel free to throw things at me. :)