Shiwan

Chap 01

Main Characters and Word Definitions

The Shadow / Cranston The same person, two different names

Shiwan Kahn Cranston's long-time rival

ki Universal energy. Also called "chi" in Chinese.

mentaph One who is gifted to focus this ki energy into a weapon, or to heal, or for other purposes both good and evil.

poniard A small dagger with a slim blade that is triangular or square at its cross section

Shiwan's green eyes were unusual for his dark complexion, as was his bleached-orange-blonde and brittle-looking hair framing his perpetually tanned face. With the exception of one missing light-brown and iridescent sea-green wing lost in a bloody battle with the Shadow ten years ago, some might consider him attractive. However the Shadow knew of his dark vengeance– he alone knew of Shiwan's true nature and his malevolent intentions forever burned on his mind after the loss of his wing. Although it was truly an accident, Shiwan was fueled by a venomous rage that poisoned his soul with hatred. He remained intent that the Shadow should endure twice the pain and anguish he mistakenly believed his enemy had caused him.

However now, Shiwan's very existence balanced on the Shadow's mercy. As he dangled from the cliff, hanging on a jutting stone, he knew he could not hold on for much longer. And with one wing, he knew he could no longer fly. The sharp stone pressed into the bones of his fingers, and he began to slip, "Please don't let me die like this, I can't hold on…" tears of fear streamed down his face.

For some unknown reason, out of pity, or not wanting to destroy Shiwan's rare power, the Shadow fiercely hoisted him by one arm up to safety, thinking, "Damn, I'm getting soft."

With both feet now firmly on the ground, Shiwan's knees collapsed and he fell to all fours, panting rapidly. Catching his breath, he eyed his savior and gasped, "You saved me?" in disbelief.

"Yes…I suppose I did," the shadow mused, rubbing his chin, "and now as I understand, your honor dictates that you're bound to me as my servant.

Holding his breath for one moment, Shiwan breathed in regret, "yes, this is so" in barely audible speech,

"What?" and he yanked the mentaph to his feet, "What did you say,"

"Yes,"

"Yes what?" the shadow had to hear it fully spoken.

"Yes, I am your….servant," lowering his eyes.

Again the Shadow pulled him to a stand next to him. Fear filled the green eyes once more, and he retreated a step backwards. In a moment of uncertainty, he unconsciously allowed the Shadow entrance into his mind. Images from Shiwan's mind flooded into the Shadow's consciousness… not just images but also emotions and intent… most prominently at this moment, the intent for suicide and a preference to throw oneself from the cliff behind them instead of servitude to his enemy. "Oh no you don't... you're mine!" He grabbed hold of one flexing bicep.

Shiwan seemed as though he might hyperventilate, "your servant... not your slave, and it's only temporary… one month" he sighed in apparent defeat.

"Really?" not believing his conniving enemy.

Violently shaking his arm free, Shiwan narrowed his eyes with his innate fiery fury.

Coercing his new servant into the plane, he forcefully threw Shiwan into the cargo hold.

"Ha!" the Shadow's cohort Nelly laughed, "Look at what the cat dragged in," and he turned to mock Shiwan in his defeat, "How's it going, one-wing?"

Shiwan scoffed at the taunts, tensely tightening his one remaining wing trembled as it pressed snugly against his back.

"Let me… talk to him," and as the shadow closed the door to the cargo hold behind him,
Shiwan's green eyes lit up in fear and uncertainty. The shadow opted to change his approach, "You're hurt," reaching out a hand to brush against Shiwan's injured brow, however he quickly pulled away, "Alright then… not very friendly are we," still, he tossed his rival a clean napkin that Shiwan reluctantly accepted to gently pat away the drying blood from the wound above his left eye.

Over the years, he had seen Shiwan's power increase exponentially. With each battle, he only became stronger. Previously there were more than a few opportunities to destroy the younger mentaph, however, Shiwan had reached such a level of strength that he was unsure, if given the chance, that he could overcome him. Maybe he could still be turned from the path he's chosen, and he shook his head with a guiltily double-take as he caught himself staring in contemplation at his enemy. What am I thinking, he admonished himself, I hate him. He's beyond evil. He deserves punishment and servitude, and settling his mind on the most appropriate word for his enemy, He's an abomination.

Shiwan observed the rippling bands of uncertainty pulsing around the Shadow's aura, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. However, when he saw the aura change from an uncertain green to the seething red of anger he became fearful again.

Shiwan's bright green eyes suddenly flicked at him, conveying a sharp sting of power, "What do you want of me?" he whispered, eyes unwaveringly staring, daring him to act. Still, there was fear behind the headstrong gaze.

The Shadow again yanked him to his feet, and spoke into his face, an inch away, "Whatever I want," and he pushed him away.

Shiwan was truly afraid, his long, straw-colored bleached hair falling in front of his face, Damnit, how could I let this happen!

"How?" Shadow read his thoughts.

Green eyes lit up in fear. How could I be so clumsy to open my mind to… him? and he now doubly-ensured that his thoughts were safely locked inside his head.

Bringing Shiwan back to my homebase will be tricky, however he knew that blindfolding his rival's eyes would suppress his power. The Shadow knew that with his eyes hidden, Shiwan couldn't control anyone's thoughts, nor could he use his telekinetic powers– a vulnerability that he had used to his advantage more than once. Even still, as a precaution the Shadow locked his rival's hands behind his back with cuffs made of pure ki. He won't be able to weasel his way out of these, but he'll try… he'll definitely try…

True to his predictions, Shiwan violently struggled against the restraints until he was exhausted and panting.

Smiling contentedly at his handiwork, the Shadow hoisted the cuffs on a hook high above their heads, so that at around 5'7", Shiwan had to balance on his toes with his arms stretched uncomfortably above him.

"Frisk him," Shadow ordered his burly cohort Nelly who briskly followed his boss's instructions.

"I told you, I don't have any weapons," Shiwan's voice expressing a 'how dare you accuse me' sentiment.

Finally patting down his legs, Nelly stuck his fingers into the tops of Shiwan's brown boots and exclaimed, "Ha! Looky here," before revealing a hidden silver knife, glinting in the fluorescent lights.

"No weapons, huh?" and yanking the blindfold down so it appeared as a bandana knotted around his rival's neck, the Shadow waved the polished blade an inch from the plotting green eyes, the discovery only confirming his distrust of the cunning mentaph.

Averting his eyes as the weapon revealed his deceit, the cuffs were unhooked and he was gruffly tossed into a small cell, the entrance soon obstructed by a powerful ki shield. Regaining his stance, he stared at his enemy who smiled at his defeat and imprisonment.

"What do you want from me?" Shiwan repeated, speaking through his teeth in fury, his hands still cuffed together behind him.

"What do I want?" Cranston echoed his question, "Oh…nothing really," and suddenly raising his voice, "Just to make sure that justice is done!" and at his last word, the ceiling above Shiwan began to slowly lower, it's final destination being the floor. The Shadow could not suppress a smile as he imagined his enemy's fate: the ceiling lowering to slowly snap every bone in his body, before those terrible green eyes finally popped out of his skull as his form was completely crushed into a bloody mess. Vividly picturing his enemy's just fate, the Shadow broke fully into his trademark laugh.

With the hideous laughter resounding in his ears, Shiwan's eyes actually did bulge from his head in utmost terror and fear as the Shadow projected the harrowing images of death into his enemy's mind.

No sooner had the green eyes widened, and in a moment his head touched the ceiling. Panicking, he focused an immense ball of ki in his eyes and let loose his power at the shielding– it shuttered, but held fast.

"Ah!" and after the ineffectual attack, he was now forced to crouch below the lowering ceiling.

"Stop it," he shrieked and his back was now flat against the ceiling, and in a moment, he had managed to turn over face-up with ceiling pressing down on him. Forced to turn his head to one side, his chest pressed against the suffocating boards. He exhaled, but as though he were coiled inside a boa constrictor, he found he could not inhale again with it pressing ever downwards upon his lungs. However, he still managed to cry out in desperation, "Don't do this. Please don't do this, don't kill me like this! Shadow! Please don't. Aaahhh!", and at the last moment before his ribs would have shattered and punctured his lungs, the ceiling mercifully stopped its decent. However it did not rise again and Shiwan remained pinned beneath it, gasping for each breath. Kneeling down to regard his prone rival, the Shadow could not help but laugh at his predicament, "Look at you now… not so cocky anymore, are you?" and after a minute or so of reveling in his enemy's gasping pain, he released the ceiling to quickly rise to its former level.

Filling his lungs with precious air, Shiwan Slowly standing again and brushing himself off to regain some sort of composure, Shiwan's hair again obscured his face as though in shame.

"I bet you want those cuffs off, don't you?"

Green eyes momentarily shone with distrust and skeptical hope.

"Turn around and put your hands through these holes," pointing toward two small circular openings that had appeared in the shielding, "And if you decide to try anything, I'll just close the holes to cut your hands off," the warning ensuring that Shiwan abode by his instructions.

With the cuffs released, the younger mentaph massaged his sore wrists, each circled with a reddening ring. Rage quickly filled his mind, How dare he play with my life! If he wants to kill me, then kill me– don't torture me! and the adrenaline that a moment ago fuelled fear, now fuelled fury, "You sick fuck!" he seethed, dripping with hatred, and his words soon spilled over into Pomanian swears that he knew so well.

The Shadow laughed at his enemy's futile fury, "Shut up," he said flatly, "You are nothing now,"

With his hands coiling into fists, Shiwan threw himself at his rival, however his attack was of course stayed by the ki shield that bounced him backwards and to the floor. Still, he rose again and while screaming like a banshee, he pounded his fists on the shield, flinging volley after volley of increasingly powerful ki at the shield. With this having no effect on the barrier, he concentrated his power into a kamé-ball. Disregarding the danger to himself in the enclosed cell, he tossed it at the shield.

The Shadow's shield shattered at the ferocity of the attack, and his vision of the green-eyed mentaph was momentarily obscured by dust and insulation erupting from the broken walls and ceiling. When the dust particles cleared, the Shadow cautiously lowered his arms protecting his head to reveal the collapsed form of his enemy, laying in a heap of tan-colored clothing, ruffled brown-and-green feathers and covered in white dust. Rolling his eyes at Shiwan's crazy and suicidal move, he carefully stepped over a ruined slab of sheet-rock to roughly roll over his enemy's form to face-up.

Exhaling in strange relief, Shiwan's face and body seemed to be intact; the only visible wound, beside the old one on his brow, was a thin trail of blood streaming from his nose.

Cranston sensed the approach of his enemy's consciousness before Shiwan began a violent coughing spell to clear the dust in his lungs.

With unknown motivation, he yanked his rival to a sitting position so he could better cough the filaments from his lungs. However, in a moment, he rubbed his head in confusion at this action, appalled at his own compassion toward his cruel rival, Damnit, what I am I doing?

Now sitting up, the coughing spasms soon subsided. Green eyes opened, and he staggered to his feet, his head dizzy and his limbs weak.

Cranston chuckled, "What were you trying to do? Kill us both? That was foolish."

Still choking on residual insulation dust, Shiwan spoke his thoughts aloud, "I… I can not be a prisoner. I'd rather die,"

"Yes, I see that. It does seem like I have a little predicament here, don't I? Can't keep you in a cell, but I still like the idea of keeping you as my servant… but the biggest problem is I...don't…trust…you,"

"I am not your servant,"

"Yes, yes. I know. It's only temporary, right?"

The green eyes, although greatly weakened by the self-inflicted blast, still managed to transmit a powerful evil-eye. Tightening his jaw with determination, both hands once again balled into fists, and his breathing quickened with renewed fury. "Not temporary," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean 'not temporary'?" the Shadow mocked his prisoner, "You mean it's permanent? Well… in that case…"

"Not temporary," Shiwan repeated in growing vehemence, "Not at all! Not ever!" and he dared to take a step toward his enemy, his mind awash with pride and headstrong resolve, "I will never be your servant," the volume of his voice increasing exponentially with his anger, "Never! Notto you. Not to anyone! Never!" and both hands were now chest high, with clear intent for another ki-attack.

Let's hope he's not up for another kamé blast, thought Cranston as he assumed a stance to ready himself for another attack.

Rage had blinded Shiwan's logic and he was unaware of his own depleted power-level. His ki was nearly exhausted not only from the immense ki needed to produce the kamé blast, but also from the physical damage he suffered when the attack was fired in the enclosed cell– any ki-based attack would be ineffectual. Even so, he generated a ball of ki that, at nearly three-feet in diameter, certainly looked impressive, and the Shadow shielded himself accordingly. However when Cranston realized that the ki-ball would produce little more than a gust of momentarily strong wind, he lowered his arms and allowed them to hang nonchalantly at his side.

Outraged at his rival's audacity, Shiwan screamed with effort as he launched the weak ball at its target, the counterforce of his exertion easily tossed him backwards and into the corner of the cell, his head smacking hard into the dusty wall with a crack.

The Shadow's trademark laugh echoed all around him as the ki-ball was effortlessly dispersed.

Exhausted and spent, the green-eyed mentaph rose once again onto unsteady thin legs. Drawing on some deep well of strength, he continued his pride-filled ranting, "Never! I will never be your servant! Never!" and he launched another series of weak ki-balls, pitching one after another from his right hand, and the left, and back to the right again.

When Cranston deflected an attack with a simple flick of his fingers, Shiwan yanked out a handful of his own hair, and screamed repeatedly, "No! No! I will never be…" gasping, "your…," falling to his knees, he now whispered, "…servant," panting with such effort as though the air held no oxygen, he was completely defeated by his own efforts!

With hands on his hips, the Shadow approached his rival who was once again in the corner of the destroyed cell, "Are you done? You damaged my building, and you damaged yourself, so tell me.. are you done now?"

"Never… will I…be your…,"

"Yes, yes, I heard you already… you don't want to be my servant" and grabbing a handful of bleached-reddish-blonde hair, he forced his enemy to look up at him, "…. But you are! You are my servant, Shiwan. You said it yourself,"

"No,"

"Yes, you did. No going back on it now. I'm tired of your little fits," and bending closer to speak directly into Shiwan's eyes, "I've really had enough of your nonsense. You said it yourself…Repeated it in fact…,"

"No," Shiwan whispered and still kneeling before the Shadow, he covered his face with both hands, and slowly lowered his head to the floor, until his forehead touched the bottom of the dusty cell.

Looking down at his rival, Cranston saw his shoulders quake with emotion. Finally content that Shiwan may have resigned himself to his fate, he slapped ki-cuffs on his wrists, dragged him out of the basement, and threw him on a bed in one of the many guest rooms. Not that it mattered, however he ensured to lock the door– he hoped that the green-eyed mentaph was too defeated to even attempt escape or revenge.

As soon as Cranston awoke the next day, dressed and ate, he headed directly to his rival's given room in the East Wing of his expansive chateau. Unlocking the door revealed Shiwan asleep on the bed atop the made bed and still fully clothes. It appeared he had not moved from where he was tossed the night before.

Circling the bed, the Shadow observed the steady rise and fall of Shiwan's chest, and studying his relaxed face he thought, "Why must he always contort his face into these…expressions of rage? It's as though a demon is in his heart, and the very face of the demon is sometimes visible in battle, and his eyes… they very essence of the demon is always there, like he's always plotting something… nasty. What is it with him? Is it just true evil? That's what it must be…but now? Now the demon is not there. His face is smooth and almost… innocent. And his ki? His ki has almost returned to its full power level. Unbelievable. Such a shame. Such a rare, rare power.

The green eyes suddenly opened fully, although his body gave no sign that he was about to awaken. And just as suddenly, and as unnaturally, he sat upright, his back as straight as a board. Once more, both of his legs squarely swung around the side of the bed furthest from Cranston, and he was instantly on his feet. Spinning on his heel, he quickly turned to face the Shadow, his eyes burning with mischievous intent.

Cranston couldn't help but smile at this unusual rise to consciousness… it was more than unnatural, it was almost like he was a machine, "Well, I see you're awake now. Are you hungry? You must be after all the ki you wasted yesterday," he was neither surprised nor offended by Shiwan's lack of response, "Come on, follow me," and much to his delight, he was closely trailed down the main staircase, and to the kitchen.

A large pot of cinnamon oatmeal was steaming on the stove, occasionally stirred by the matronly cook so as not to burn. When the cook turned to greet Master Cranston, the jovial smile faded from her face, and her mouth twisted into horror as she witnessed Shiwan's fluorescent-green catlike eyes. Her oatmeal encrusted wooden spoon fell clattering to the tile floor as she moved to attempt a slow and clumsy escape.

"Gretta," Cranston called to her in a reassuring tone, "It's alright. It's okay, He won't hurt you…,"

"What do you mean it's okay? He's… he's...," she stutter as she pointed an accusatory finger at the younger mentaph who stared expressionlessly in her general direction, "he's the devil," she hissed as though the words were painful to speak, "I know he's the devil! It's his eyes… oh God, his eyes…," and tears of genuine fear streamed down her heavy and doughy cheeks as she retreated another step backwards.

Clapping his hands to redirect her attention, Cranston offered, "Now, how about some breakfast," and the cook busied herself to scoop out some oatmeal and pour a cup of coffee for her employer.

"…And for our guest," Cranston raised an eyebrow, and the cook scowled and reluctantly dropped the food and coffee for Shiwan Kahn, who was now sat stiffly at the wooden kitchen table. Much to Cranston's surprise, his rival ate his breakfast without hesitation.

Cranston was busily engineering a new vehicle in his custom-built hanger, fully equipped with weapons and the latest military accoutrements. Seated at a comfortable distance from him, yet still nearby in the spacious hanger, Shiwan had assumed the lotus position, and with eyes closed, was lost in apparent meditation.

At noon, The Shadow's cohort Nelly met him in the hanger, "Well, looky here," he chucked and clapped the younger mentaph on the back.

Green eyes shot open as Shiwan was rousted from his thoughts. However, in an out-of-character lack of action, he sighed and closed his eyes once again.

"He giving you a hard time," waving one hand at Shiwan, and eating what remained of an apple with the other hand.

"Not today," and Cranston returned to his handiwork.

"Why haven't you blindfolded him? Why isn't he in that little prison-cell you have in your basement,"

"Good call, Nelly, and that actually was my plan for him, but he's…," how shall I explain what happened yesterday, "…not a good prisoner,"

"I see. Still should blindfold 'im. Just in case. Or at least some sunglasses. He's a freak of nature with those eyes of his,"

Cranston stopped his work in contemplation, "That, my friend, is an excellent idea," and calling to his new servant, "hey little Poniard,"

The green eyes flashed open once again.

"Yes you. Come here," the Shadow tested his new authority, however one hand remained poised on his hip, ready to draw the gun hidden in his waistband. Much to his delight, Shiwan stood and silently approached him with steady footsteps. Sighing, the Cranston thought to himself, Hope I won't have to use my .45, and at that thought, Shiwan suddenly stopped his approach. Damnit, he heard my thoughts. Shiwan, do you hear me,

Of course, came the unspoken reply, although his face betrayed no such cognition.

Unaware of the telepathic conversation, Nelly witnessed a long silence and the sudden and unusual stoppage of their strange enemy, "What's he doing? Watch out, he's always up to something… you know that,"

"Not this time," Cranston reassured him, and Shiwan once again resumed his approach to stand near the large aircraft he was working on..

"Sorry. Still don't believe 'im," Nelly squinted with contempt at the younger mentaph, "You shouldn't either, if you don't mind me saying. I don't trust 'im," Nelly lit a Marlboro Red.

"Shiwan, do you know what's wrong with this… right here," pointing to the part on the airplane engine he had been working on for quite some time.

Reaching far into the engine, their rival deftly used his fingers to manipulate a tiny wire, and welded it to another wire using his own green ki. Retrieving an oil-covered hand, he nodded to the Shadow who started up the engine without fail.

Nelly exhaled a large cloud of smoke, "Unbelievable,"

Chapter TWO has just been posted, too!

Author's Note: How long do you think Shiwan can keep up this act?
I don't think he can keep it up for too much longer. Also, Cranston has shown enormous restraint so far by not reciprocating all of his rival's numerous attacks towards him.
Still, everyone has their limits. He might have to use his .45-caliber afterall… to finally end the career of Shiwan Kahn… Whatever.

Shiwan, Chapter One, Page 10