For the Sake of the Art Chapter 11b: The Lost and the Damned, a ranma fanfic

Chapter Eleven: The Lost and the Damned

Pain was all he felt. An unimaginable, horrifying pain that defied explanation. But then again, he should have expected something like that. After all, not many went against Hild and lived to tell the tale, and he knew very well that it was only the doublet system that kept him alive; that had made the mistress of Niflheim seal him in this hellhole rather than execute him. But he knew he was not alone. There was a presence, something entirely noncorporeal, stirring next to him, as if the short time the seal had been opened had been enough to awaken it from its ancient slumber.

How long had he been in here? He did not know. Time had no meaning for him, not in here. Had it been a month? A week? Long enough for him to go insane? He didn't even want to know what had happened to his accomplice, the fallen goddess that had aided him in his plans. The gods could be cruel at times, even more so that demons, and he was certain they wouldn't be negligient with one who had overstepped her boundary as far as she had. He immediately realized the absurdity of that question, there was no way that anyone could tell how much time had passed.

What year was it when you were imprisoned? Was his cryptic reply. He was quick to answer, realizing that that wasn't his subconscious speaking; something that, on some level, reassured and frightened him at the same time. It meant he had at least some company, yet it also meant that there was little hope of ever seeing sunlight again. 1994, he told his companion. Over five hundred years… Firkraag could almost hear the wry smile on the other's face. What did you do?

There was a short laugh. I tried to claim something out of my reach. Something to grant me power, something that would allow me to tear down the order or the world and rebuild it. There was a bitterness in the voice that Firkraag understood. I cannot break out, the voice continued, but I have found a way to cast my influence beyond the seal. Little by little I have worn it down with what little power remains to me. I am not a demon, merely a demonic creature; as such, I cannot be stripped of all of my powers. Getting killed weakened me, but I retain some ofch about this place? How long have you been here? He immediately realized the absurdity of that question, there was no way that anyone could tell how much time had passed.

There was a short laugh. I tried to claim something out of my reach. Something to grant me power, something that would allow me to tear down the order or the world and rebuild it. There was a bitterness in the voice that Firkraag understood. I cannot break out, the voice continued, but I have found a way to cast my influence beyond the seal. Little by little I have worn it down with what little power remains to me. I am not a demon, merely a demonic creature; as such, I cannot be stripped of all of my powers. Getting killed weakened me, but I retain some of my strength. Answer me this, young one. If you could, would you exact revenge on those you hate?

Firkraag took a long while to think. A painful spasm wracked his body as his nerves reacted to some outside stimulus, and he bit down to keep from screaming. He had done that the first couple of times, and it had taken much practice to endure the pain he felt. The voice's declaration stirred his hatred awake once more, the burning emotions overriding his sense of despair and fear of this nothingness. He could feel the hatred fueling his strength, until he could ignore the pain. A grim thought passed through his mind. Even if he would be damned to spend eternity in here, he would get his revenge.

What is your name? He asked once more, knowing full well that the other knew he would accept the offer, no matter what it entailed. And he could almost hear the smile in the answer.

You may call me…Naraku.

V---------------V

A lone figure stopped, standing high on a cliff, the sun dramatically outlining the muscular form as he turned around, shaking his fist at the sky as if to announce his defiance to the heavens. Accompanying that was a string of profanities that was closed by the upteenth cursing of a certain, pig-tailed martial artist. Taking a moment to sit down and rest, Hibiki Ryoga cursed his sense of direction which had caused him to loose track of his rival. His last encounter with Ranma had been anything but pleasant, and he could feel the embarassment build up once more as he recalled his latest defeat.

Even months of travelling hadn't dulled his hunger for revenge, especially since his last defeat had been nearly instantaneous; he conveniently forgot that it was a friend of his pig-tailed nemesis who had so casually defeated him. But it all lead back to Ranma, anyway, right? After all, he was the honorless cur who had run from the Tendo dojo to hide with that guy, and if he'd taken his punishment like a man and died, he wouldn't have interfered and never defeated Ryoga. Right?

The lost boy sighed. He decided to give up on that particular train of thought; lately, it had been getting harder and harder to blame Ranma for anything, mostly because he wasn't around. Besides that, his unconscious attempts to twist his logic to fuel his depression and hatred towards his rival were growing more and more confusing, up to the point where Ryoga really couldn't tell fact from fiction anymore, completely forgetting how anything had started.

The thought of Akane both brightened his mood and depressed him. On his last visit she had been moody and irritable, and he knew that was somehow Ranma's fault. Yet at the same time his rival was out of the way, so he was free to make his move – if only he could find his way back. Having spent the last weeks to build his courage to ask the girl out on a date, he was now faced with the dilemma brought upon him by his family curse. And of course, that, too, somehow had to be Ranma's fault.

He was torn, not knowing what to feel anymore. His hatred for the pig-tailed youth had been growing harder to keep up, but each time he had resolved to try and talk things out, Ranma went and alienated Akane again, incensing him in turn. Now he'd heard Ranma was responsible for taking martial arts from Akane, and he vowed to make the Saotome youth pay.

With a tired sigh, Ryoga turned and began wandering again, hoping that he would one day find a way to defeat Ranma and make him pay for all the pig-tailed boy had done to him and Akane. He knew his opponent was faster than he was, knew that his only advantage lay in strength and toughness. If only Ranma would stay still. If only…

You can make him stay still. "Who's there!" Ryoga spun around, looking for the source of the voice that resonated in his head. You cannot find me, boy. You cannot detect me with your senses, yet I am here. I can offer you some help, to fulfill your desire for revenge. I can help you exact vengeance on the one who wronged you. With a sour smile, Ryoga shook his head. Things had to be pretty bad if he was hearing voices. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, he should go visit a doctor. For a moment, he thought the disembodied voice was laughing. I am real, young one. You are not insane.

"What do you want?" Even if the offer was real, if Ryoga had learned anything from his adventures, then it was the fact that talking ghosts and noncorporeal voices usually meant some kind of trouble. To offer you my help. I can lend you what little is left of my strength. I will not be much, but more than that, I can offer you insight. I have lived millennia only to be foiled by an arrogant child. I offer my help so that you can avenge me in my stead. "I ain't fighting no one for you! And are you calling me stupid!" Ryoga left the words hang in the air as an unspoken challenge.

Stupid you are not, yet you have much to learn of the art of war. And since we are after the same person, I doubt you wil protest killing him much. "You're after Ranma?" Ryoga asked, a part of him wondering just how the Saotome heir managed to get himself into such trouble all the time. "What did he do to you?"

He has banished me from this plane of existence, sealing me away for eternity in nothingness. I have nothing more to live for, but revenge. I cannot escape my prison, but I can lend you my help. Ryoga mentally cursed his rival again, ignoring the tiny part of his conscience that screamed at him to think the matter through before recklessly jumping into the offer. I can help you make him stand and fight you on equal grounds. I can make it so he will not run from your strength ever again. I can do all this for you, if you accept my offer.

"Why should I? I'm strong enough to beat Ranma by myself! I don't need anyone's help! I'll defeat him on my own, whatever the cost!" You have the strength and determination to defeat him, yet you suffer defeat every time. Not because you lack skill and strength, but because he refuses to let himself be trapped. Let me help you trap him, and victory will be yours.

"I-" collapsing to the ground, the lost boy sat for a moment. The offer was tempting, and if whoever it was could really offer him enough help to trap his rival, without actually giving him any help in the actual fighting, then the strength to crush Ranma was still his own. "Very well. I accept."

V--------------V

Deep in China, in Quing Hai province, in the valley of Jusenkyo, several highly-trained warriors were witness to an explosion of power the likes of which had occurred only a few handful of times during the valley's long history. Those who had seen it before, knew instantly what it meant. Saffron, the Phoenix god of Jusendo, had reached maturity and the apex of his potential power. What surprised them was that it had happened this fast; only a few months had passed since his demise at the hands of a mortal, as unlikely as that seemed.

Kiima stared in shock at the bedroom of her lord, watching in silent awe and fear as his aura exploded around him, a red-hot corona of pure, undiluted power so strong even those without training could sense the energy emanating from the Phoenix god. The aura grew, loosing its intensity but spreading out instead, dimming so as not to melt the stone floor, but Kiima could easily spot a scorched circle around where Saffron was standing. He threw back his head and let out an inhuman howl that made the winged woman back up a step in fear.

The sight before her had shaken her deeply. The last time she had raised her lord it had taken him years to reach the stage at which he had fought Ranma, and now he had fully matured and gained control over his elemental energies in less than a year. She knew it couldn't mean anything good, especially knowing that the last time she had checked on Saffron he had still been little more than an infant, and that had been a mere five hours ago.

Whatever had brought upon his transformation, she couldn't help but be awed at the sheer power it must have taken. Yet at the same time, it meant that either Saffron would be needed, or somehow he had gained a source of energy that provided enough for his transformation. Either way it meant they had captured the attention of some powerful entity, and Kiima didn't like the thoughts of that one bit.

Minutes later, the energy storm around the Phoenix settled down, and he took a deep breath, before his eyes settled on his retainer and guard. Kiima almost took a step back at the raw power and emotion she saw in his eyes, the most startling difference from his last incarnation. The Phoenix god's eyes were now a deep silver, tinted with a bright red flame, giving it the appereance of an orb of molten metal. He reigned in his aura, almost unconsciously, and Kiima calmed somewhat.

"Kiima," he began, "Send for the Musk and the Amazons." Shock prevented her from bowing before her lord, and she could only stammer out a single question. "Why?" Saffron smiled, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was a predatory smile, something one would give knowing one's prey was cornered, wounded, and near death. "We shall take what is ours."

Extending his wings, he flapped them experimentally and nodded, before brushing past the captain of the guard. She could feel the residual heat of his aura, yet despite it she felt a chill throughout her body. Something wasn't right.

Not right at all.

V-----------------V

Herb looked over the letter the Phoenix messenger had presented him with. The implication that Saffron was back at full strength and now ever more powerful than when Saotome had faced him did not sit well with the Musk prince, especially since the Musk had never managed to increaser their number significantly. Neither had the amazons, and, Herb hated to admit, if war were to break out in Jusenkyo, the Phoenix were the only tribe who could hope to take on the other two.

He was also at a complete loss just how Saffron had managed to gain full power so quickly, but if he had something at his side that could grant him that much energy, then any attempt to restore the balance of power in the valley by force would only result in the utter annihilation of the Musk. And if the Phoenix truly had such an artifact in their hands, then even the combined forces of the Musk and Joketsuzoku would never be enough to stop any assaults the Phoenix made.

Nodding to Lime and indicating to bring in the messenger, Herb carefully folded the letter and stored it in one of his sleeves. When the winged man walked through the door, Herb once more felt a sense of revulsion overcome him at the sight of the complete arrogance and superiority the Phoenix exuded. "Return to Jusendo," the Musk prince began. "And tell Saffron…" For an instant, Herb's eyes flickered over his two retainers who stood by the doorway, ready to pounce on a moment's notice.

"Tell Saffron that any aggressive move against the Musk or Musk territory will be met…with lethal force." The Phoenix before him looked just about ready to attack the dragon prince, yet the very look Herb shot him as the ruler of the Musk levitated into the air and summoned his battle-aura made him rethink any thoughts of violence. As quickly as he had come, the winged man left and took to the skies.

"Lime, I need you to go to Japan. Go find Saotome, and tell him that we need his help." Settling back down in his throne, Herb removed the letter and incinerated it. "Mint, prepare the warriors. Step up the training and contact the amazons."

V---------------V

The council hall that stood near the center of Joketsuzoku, the ancestral home of the Chinese amazons, was filled with a cacophony of voices. The Phoenix messenger who had just arrived with a letter for the matriarch looked on in amusement as the elder women argued between themselves. The very fact that the matriarch wasn't present for the meeting meant that no concrete decsion could be reached; and the remaining council members were loudly advocating their own way to deal with the contents of the letter.

No decision would be reached here, because, ultimately, all the executive power lay with the matriarch. Lin Se, one of the younger council members, closed her eyes and rested her head against the backrest of her chair. While she was by no means a young woman, at a mere one-hundred seventy-two years she was one of the youngest on the council. And she didn't have the patience to listen to her seniors argue all day long. When she heard a particularly ridiculous proposal to surrender to the Phoenix, she let loose with a massive ki blast to the center of the room, tearing a wide crater into the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Glancing at a guard, she indicated for the Phoenix to be led out of the assembly hall and waited until the messenger was gone. "Sisters," she slowly began. "If the Phoenix are as powerful as they now claim to be, then we alone do not stand a chance. We have all felt the energy when Saffron of Jusendo regained his powers, and we agree that alone neither of us could stand before him in battle." The last comment drew some protests, but she quickly silenced them, releasing her battle-aura.

"We need help, and we need the matriarch to make the final choice of whether to fight or surrender. I suggest we send a message to elder Khu Lon, and gather as many allies as we can. We should also ask young Saotome for help." Before she could continue, several of the older women raised their voices in protest. "We do not need a male's help!" Brush shouted out, clearly appalled at the idea of having to ask a man to fight with them. "Males know nothing of fighting," Soap agreed.

"But is it not young Saotome, who is the godslayer? Is he not the one who defeated Saffron once, before the very eyes of our children themselves? Xian Pu and Mu Tsu confirmed it themselves, the young man tore him apart with his skill and strength – could any of us hope to do the same?" Lin Se smirked. "Also, a messenger from the Musk arrived, asking us for our assistance. Prince Herb has made it clear that he will resist the Phoenix, to the last man."

V--------------V

When Kiima entered the throne room, she shivered at the energy she felt emanating from it. It wasn't like anything she had ever felt before, not even when her lord had been growing up the last time. The last time she had felt the raw, untamed energy radiating off of him, undirected, and unfocused. It seemed peaceful and hostile at the same time, more like a force of nature than an actual threat. It had felt dangerous in the sense a forest fire was dangerous. Destructive, yes, but not without its purpose in the cycle of life.

What she felt now…was nothing like it. Now, Saffron's power, while ever greater, radiated a sense of malice and underlying evil even she could feel. His aura had turned from neutral fire to becoming a burning inferno of hell. Saffron had ordered the Winged Guard to prepare themselves for combat over the last several days, and she had personally overseen the training of their warriors. Now, she stood in front of the throne room, afraid to walk in. Why, she didn't know.

She only knew something was off about her lord. She also knew that she didn't fully agree with what little she had been told of his plans. An armed conflict in the middle of Jusenkyo, at this point in time, would only draw unwanted attention to them from the outside world and could eventually lead to their total destruction. She also wondered why he seemed to have chosen now to set his plans into motion.

With a deep breath to calm her nerves, she entered the room. Whatever the matter, he was still her lord. He was still their god. When she entered, she knew what to expect. Since his transformation Saffron had spent every waking minute in his throne, surrounded by his aura, in deep meditation. Why, no one knew, but each time she came here she could feel his power grow.

"Lord Saffron," she began, kneeling down before the throne, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. When he finally did, she looked up only to nearly stumble back in shock. His eyes held a ferocity and hunger she had only seen in wild animals before, and a hint of cruelty tinted the silver orbs. His gaze was cold, uncaring, yet at the same time burning with a fire she couldn't quite understand. It was something that eventually gripped all those with great power – thirst, for power and blood.

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat, Kiima delivered her report. "The troops are ready, Lord Saffron. They have been trained and prepared as you commanded." The Phoenix god nodded in satisfaction. "Very well. We have received our replies from the Musk and amazons. It seems they prefer to shed their blood instead of surrendering." What she saw in his eyes made her shudder. "Prepare the troops to move out in a week. Until I return, I will leave matters to you. When I return, I want them ready to kill every single Musk and amazon who is on our land."

"R-return from where?" Kiima managed to ask. "I am going to settle my score with Saotome," Saffron smirked. It wasn't one she found particularly encouraging. "When I have killed him, we'll wipe out anything that is not Phoenix in Jusenkyo." He returned to his meditation, effectively dismissing her.

As soon as she left the throne room, Kiima fought down the urge to retch. Something was wrong, she now knew. Her lord had never acted like this before, had never been this power-hungry and malicious. She shuddered at the thought of what he wanted to do with the valley. Razing it of all life that was not theirs to control went even beyond her imagination, and she didn't like it one bit. Even thought her loyalty lay with her lord, her own honor as a warrior wouldn't allow her to commit such acts.

What is happening to Lord Saffron? I-I don't think he's ever spoken about killing the Musk or amazons so callously. I can't let this go on. We can't start a war! The Phoenix had clashed with both other tribes in the valley before, but those had been skirmishes when border patrols or hunting groups had met each other. Never had any of their tribes declared active war, and never with the intent of completely driving out the others.

The second thing that disturbed the winged woman was the obvious sense of darkness around her lord. His aura and eyes told her volumes about his mental state. She had nearly shrunk back from the repressed rage she had seen, had nearly bolted when the pure, unadultered evil had shone through his eyes. There was a maliciousness to him she had never known before, and she didn't like it. If this continues…she didn't want to consider the implications of the consequences of their actions to come.

V--------------V

"Excuse me, is this the way to Tokyo?" The reply to the question was a shake of a head and an odd stare. "No, kid, this is Okhayama. Tokyo's the other way." Ryoga nodded his thanks and promptly turned around fully, continuing down the path he had been going, completely oblivious of the sigh of the man who he had asked for directions.

The lost boy hadn't found his way back to the Tendo dojo ever since Ranma had left for his training journey, and ever since he hadn't had an outlet for his depressions. Now, he vowed to find his way back and make his pig-tailed rival pay. The little voice in his head had surprisingly told the truth. He hadn't gotten that much more powerful, but its advice had more than made up for it.

Ryoga chuckled evilly. Sometimes the best solutions to a problem were so simple they were too obvious to be grasped. A basic sense of tactics – something that had completely eluded him in his fights so far, mainly because he let his anger take over and cloud his judgement. While it fueled his strength, it made him vulnerable to well-planned attacks. It had provided him with several ideas to use in his upcoming fights. And the more Ryoga thought about them, the more they made sense.

Control your anger, instead of being controlled by anger. It had been a hard lesson for the Jusenkyo-cursed boy, learning something akin to the Soul of Ice. He still wasn't sure whether he had fully mastered it or not, but then again, Ranma always seemed to bring out the worst in him. If his training had been successful, however, his pig-tailed adversary would find himself in a whole lot of trouble.

Make your weakness your strength. He wasn't as fast as Ranma, and he certainly wasn't as agile, especially in mid-air. But in mid-air, without any leverage, blows weren't as strong as on the ground. And while Ryoga could take them, Ranma could not. All he needed was to land a single strike on him.

Strike the weakest link of the chain. Ryoga smirked as he recalled that particular lesson. It had taken him a while to figure out what the voice had meant by that, but he had finally understood. In order to make his rival stay in place, in order to be able to completely control his opponent's movements, he needed to control his environment. He needed to control his opponent's reaction to his environment. All he really had to do, was put Ranma in a situation where he couldn't afford to dodge.

He would find his way to Tokyo eventually. He always did.

V--------------V

"Kagura?" He glanced sideways at the woman walking next to him, quickly averting his eyes as she turned around to look at him. "Yes?" It took a few moments for him to form the words in his mouth. He had been curious about her past, especially as she had let of there was more to it than she had told him. And she had dropped hints that she was older than she looked, something that he couldn't quite comprehend.

"How old are you?" He blurted out, the carefully formulated question thrown to the wind as the Saotome foot-in-the-mouth disease struck. She gave him a blank look for a moment, before giggling and hiding behind her fan in mock embarassment. "You should know not to ask a lady such a question, Ranma." Said pig-tailed martial artist was on the defensive almost immediately, waving his hands in front of him as an attempt to ward off the wrath that was sure to follow.

When nothing happened after a while, he glanced up to see his travel companion shaking with silent laughter. "Oh my, Ranma. You're…you sure are one of a kind," she managed between laughs. A smile spread across his face. Huh. I guess I do look rather funny when I do that, don't I? "I was just wondering," he began after they had somewhat gotten their mirth under control. "I mean, there's more to you than just what you told me, isn't there?"

She nodded, serious again in an instant. "Yes. But…right now I don't want to talk about it. It's not that I don't trust you with it, but I can't, not now." Can't tell him I've been having a bad feeling since a couple of days ago. Something's up, and it's making my blood boil. Ranma nodded slowly. "Listen, the last couple 'a days you've been zoning out a lot. You sure you all right?"

Once more she was left to wonder just how he could go from inquisitive to caring in an instant, but she nodded and smiled. His concern for her felt…nice, for a change. She had been living alone for years, without human contact, so long, it seemed, that she thought she had forgotten her own language. And now, someone was asking her how she felt. It was a welcome change, she mused.

However, it was overshadowed by an ill feeling and a pull on her blood she hadn't felt in centuries of life. She had only experienced this very same sensation on her very being for a few years, but that had been more than enough to make her hate it. It had been the feeling of loosing control, of being at someone else's mercy. Her own captvity, something that drew her to him, despite her will.

But how? He's been dead for ages! I don't believe he has been resurrected, but if he has…Shutting those thoughts out of her mind and putting on a small smile for her companion's sake, she continued with him down the dirt trail. "Let's go visit your mother," she suddenly said, trying to divert his attention from herself. "Huh?" She chuckled at his reply. "You did promise your mother to visit, didn't you?" At his nod, she smirked. "You want to visit her now?"

"Eh? Now? Visit Mom?" It took a moment for Ranma's brain to process the information before he agreed happily.

V--------------V

So, you finally prepared for your task? Saffron never opened his eyes, having long grown accustomed to the voice in his head. "Yes," he said to no one in particular. The Saotome youth who wronged you is back in his home. He has…Saffron could almost hear a smirk in the voice's tone, an old acquaintance with him. She is to be left alive; do whatever you wish with whoever gets in the way. "I understand."

You are not alone in your fight. Others have the same goal, do not spur their aid. The boy is more powerful than you think. He has grown since your defeat. "It is no matter. I shall kill him regardless of how strong he is." Saffron opened his eyes, feeling the power surge through his new body. Stretching his wings behind him, he struggled to keep his aura under control. The bright red corona surrounded him, hot enough to melt the stone he was sitting on.

"I will settle the score," the Phoenix swore before he took to the skies.