Perspective Shifts
Ranko paused a few steps into Prince Herb's sumptuous suite, still shell-shocked by Cinnamon's revelation. She barely noticed the soft click of the door closing as the dragon shut it behind her. While Cinnamon continued on down the hall to meet with the Musk Emperor, Ranko stood oblivious to the lustrous silk curtains, the intricately woven tapestries and the fine teak furnishings and floor tiling. The wealth and history represented by the exquisitely appointed room made little impression on her mind as her eyes became absorbed in their minute details.
On an unconscious level, these manifestations of the power and longevity of the Musk Empire only underscored the unhappy lesson she had just learned. More than halfway through her teen-age years, Ranko had developed a sense of her own mortality. She had endured enough strife as Ranma to ensure that, but for added measure, she had actually died as Fa Shen. In her most recent battle with Herb, she had very nearly been killed.
It was hardly surprising that she failed to realize that her true—and only recently revealed—nature made Ranko immortal. It was worth asking herself if—had she come to that conclusion on her own—she would have understood how immortality would impact the delicate web of relationships she had become entangled in.
Whether she figured it out on her own or not, the shock and horror of that revelation would have hit her just as hard. Had the blow come in the midst of combat, Ranko would not have recovered in time to save herself. The impact was an endless rain of punishment, a brutal beating delivered with the strength and substance of every heart-felt bond. For a moment, her consciousness of the pain and suffering this new truth could bring—not only to her, but to everyone she held dear—paralyzed Ranko with indecision.
It had been the same consciousness of inflicting pain and misery on others that had made her so indecisive about choosing a fiancée as Ranma. Ultimately, it had resulted in her promising to marry someone she had very little interest in even knowing, let alone marrying! Too late, Ranko had realized that she was willing to allow everyone she loved to be hurt in order to protect them from something even worse. Far too late, she had realized that she was willing to kill, if that was the only hope she had of protecting those she... loved.
Ranko blinked and shook her head slightly as she stumbled over that last thought. It had been weeks since she had resisted admitting her true feelings—to others, but most especially to herself—in the belief that it was unmanly. The mental stutter was an abrupt reminder that the person she had once been was still very much a part of her. The greater question of who and what she was, which becoming Ranko allowed her to explore without fear or shame, could not diminish the fact that she was still Ranma.
Having come to think of the day that Ranma became cursed as the true beginning of her life as Ranko, she had no difficulty believing that the strong feelings she had for her friends and family were in fact her own. But, like her identity, her emotions had originated in and evolved from being Ranma. Which explained why she still hesitated to admit that she had particularly strong feelings for anyone. Especially Ryouga, Akane and Ukyo.
"Is it possible to be with ALL of them?" Ranko asked herself cautiously, almost hopefully. Realizing that she had asked the wrong question, she sucked in a sharp breath. "Is it possible to be with ANY of them?" she restated the question bitterly, allowing her thoughts to return to Cinnamon's revelation.
More than ever, the question that mattered was not who she loved, or who loved her, but who would suffer as a result of whatever decision she made. No matter what she did, no matter what sort of decision she made, people were going to be hurt. She could not prevent that. She needed to take Cinnamon's warning to heart, and so did anyone who wished to be a part of her life.
That did not mean her only hope was finding another immortal. Whatever she chose to do, she needed to be certain that it was worth paying the price. Which brought her back to the situation she was in.
In spite of the fact that the dragon prince had chosen to hold her promise in reserve, Ranko had forsworn all other engagements to marry Herb. Because of what had happened between Ryouga and Ranma, Ranko could not dismiss the possibility that Herb had genuinely fallen in love with her, and she had no clue how he—or she, at the moment—intended to make Ranko fall in love with her. She could not imagine how Herb could succeed in winning her heart with her promise hanging over her head, but she could imagine the cost—for herself and those she loved—if the dragon princess succeeded.
If she wanted to avoid seeing the people she cared about end up trying to kill each other, she needed to make Herb understand a hard lesson she herself was being forced to learn.
"Sometimes you can't be with the one you love," she stated it aloud, allowing it to settle into her bones.
"So, love the one you're with."
Ranko jumped up at the sound of Herb's voice and whirled around to stare at the cursed prince in apprehension. "How long have you been standing there?" she demanded, holding a hand over her racing heart.
"Not long," the white-haired young woman responded. When Ranko sagged in relief, Herb continued in an artfully casual tone, "But, long enough. Just so you know, taking to yourself will not convince me you're crazy. Well, at least not insane."
"Lots of people talk to themselves," Ranko tried to defend herself, crossing her arms under her breasts to contain a surge of annoyance.
"True, but few of them truly are more than one person," Herb pointed out objectively, with a tiny smile.
"Funny," Ranko retorted with mock sarcasm. When Herb simply bowed her head and smiled broader, Ranko snorted lightly and flopped down on the nearest couch.
A moment later, Herb joined her on the couch, being careful to sit at the far end to give the red-head space. Once Herb was comfortable, Lime and Mint entered from a curtained-off doorway carrying light refreshments on gilded, teak trays.
Ignoring the two young men, and the longing stares they molested the two girls with, Herb announced, "My father is meeting with your advocate at the moment, so I do not expect that we will be summoned to dinner for a while yet. I took the liberty of ordering something to take the edge off your hunger. Please, have a drink, and tell me how your audience with the Council of Elders went."
Ranko sat up and looked longingly at the serving platters presented by Herb's henchmen, sparing one glance to confirm Herb's offer before snatching a tray out of Lime's hands and stuffing a dumpling into her mouth. Once it, and several branches of its family, had been swiftly consumed, Ranko leaned back with a content sigh and complied with Herb's request.
Once she had completed her report, carefully editing out the part about her being some sort of Amazon Princess, she paused to nibble on some more tidbits while Herb ranted about the way she had been treated. On the whole, Ranko agreed with the Musk Princess's opinion, but she could not help but wonder if Herb's outrage was merely staged for her benefit.
"About the only useful thing those reactionary old women did was grant you immunity to the Kiss of Marriage, reducing the brides and husbands you picked up as Ranma and Fa Shen to mere suitors!" Herb snapped, as her angry tirade wound down.
"Yeah, but only because they think it'll keep you from forcin' me to marry you," Ranko pointed out belligerently. When Herb turned to stare at her in reproach, Ranko shrugged. "You're the one who decided to keep my promise a secret. Why should I tell them they're wrong. Though, it would almost be worth it to seem them all have a fit."
"I suppose the only thing more appalling to them than allowing a girl your age to claim the power and privileges of a matriarch would be allowing her to become an enemy prince's bride," Herb proposed, restoring her composure.
"There's one more thing," Ranko announced, setting her drink down and looking Herb in the eye. When she was certain she had her attention, she said, "After hearing the council's decision, I told Mom and everyone to return to Japan. Everything I tried to accomplish here has been done or never will be."
"I see," Herb acknowledged, giving her a studying look.
From the way the girl with the snowy mane was looking at her, Ranko knew Herb suspected her real reason for sending her friends home. "I told everyone that I made a promise not to marry anyone else to keep you from hurting them. I also told them I'd catch up to them in a week."
"Why a week?" Herb asked, slightly confused. "I mean, if you plan to leave so soon, why not simply leave now with the others?"
Ranko shrugged. "Normally, if someone got the better of me in a fight, I'd spend some time training and come back a week later for a rematch. It took longer than that to track you down on the way to Mount Horaisan, but you remember how that ended, right?"
Herb's eyes widened. "You plan to beat me in a rematch to get out of your promise?" she asked in smiling disbelief.
"Hey, you were the one who bragged about beating me with my own confidence," Ranko reminded the cursed prince pointedly. With a shrug she continued, "You knocked me out, Herb. There's no question I did not win that fight, but it wasn't a clear victory for you either."
"You presume too much," Herb growled, giving Ranko an irate glare. "Out of respect, I acknowledged your superior power and the fact that you would have defeated me utterly if not for the opening and opportunity you presented to me. As you are so well known for snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, I merely pointed out that I defeated you in your own tradition."
"Are you really that proud of your victory, Herb?" Ranko taunted, still bitter about the fact that she had to admit defeat because the price for victory would have been the lives of people she loved. In a more civil tone, she inquired, "Wouldn't you like to find out if you could really beat me without taking a cheap shot or by using dirty tricks?" Ranko taunted.
"Who are you accusing of using underhanded methods to win battles, Ranma?" Herb asked, blushing in spite of herself as she remembered the infuriating tactics Ranma had employed in their battles over the Kaisuifuu.
"Huh. So, you're still mad at me for flashing you?" Ranko allowed herself a tiny smirk of satisfaction. Herb turned a deeper shade of red and held her breath to contain her reaction, and Ranko smiled. "You may think I could never get you to wager my promise on another fight. Just remember, there's always more at stake. There'll always be something more you want. There's also the chance that I could play by your rules, and use something important to you to make you play by my rules."
"What do you mean?" Herb demanded petulantly.
"I mean, I only promised I'd marry you, Herb," Ranko reminded the other cursed girl pointedly. The look she was giving hinted that her cooperation would end the instant they exchanged vows.
"But, I told you, I do not intend to hold you to that promise until I have won your heart. I want a willing bride, Ranko," Herb contested with restrained emotional emphasis.
Ranko's smile turned menacing. She could feel Fa Shen coming to the surface in her. "I don't remember promising to be a 'willing' bride," Ranko declared fiercely, wincing as her aura flared up in defiance.
Herb stared at her in disbelief, astonished at the amount of ki Ranko could summon when that very morning she could barely stand to touch her ki at all. Herb had spent the past few days torturing herself, trying to build up to the level where she could channel enough ki through her body to enhance her fighting abilities.
Herb stared at her incredulously for a few moments, before flushing, coughing and clearing her throat. "Um. I hate to say this, but the promise you made does compel you to be a willing participant in our marriage. A wife does, after all, have certain... ah, obligations..."
Ranko's display faded and the flood of erotic pain accompanying the surge subsided into a numb tingling. She shook her head, trying to ignore the lingering arousal caused by her sexually charged aura. "You mean, I'd have to have sex with you," Ranko spelled it out bluntly, still holding Herb's eyes. "I mean, the whole point of marrying me is to strengthen your bloodline, after all. To honor my promise, I would be forced to, right?" When Herb blushed and nodded, Ranko smiled sweetly and asked, "Does that sound willing to you?"
Herb suddenly found it hard to return her gaze.
"It doesn't matter, though, because no matter how many times you forced me, you'll never get me pregnant," Ranko added projecting an air callous indifference to conceal the twisting tides of her true emotions.
"What makes you believe that?" Herb demanded with a faint sense of unease. Ranko was a fool to believe that she would be allowed to use any form of contraception if she openly defied the Musk Emperor's demand for an heir.
"Well, to start with, I never promised to bear children," Ranko retorted defiantly. Fa Shen was very close to the surface now, carrying Ranko in a battle Ranma would have lost from the outset. "More importantly, what makes you think I would take any chances with a man who had proven that he could force himself upon me?"
"What are you trying to say, Ranko?" Herb asked her with studied, indifferent curiosity, studying the red-head intently over the rim of her glass.
"I am simply pointing out that I am Pa Shen's daughter," Ranko reminded proudly, as the spirit of Fa Shen connected to the present, at last, through Ranko. Caught up in the verbal dispute, the girl did not even notice the assimilation of her past life, surrendering a former identity to embrace the future ahead of her as Ranko. "Do you think, after what she endured at the hands of the Musk, she would allow her daughter to be vulnerable to the same fate? Do you think it was simple ambition that drove her to force me to master ki techniques while I was still just a girl?"
The implications of Ranko's defiant words finally penetrated Herb's disbelief. Staring at Ranko in dismay and recognizing what part of her was asserting itself, she asked, "Are you telling me that you know a technique that will render you infertile?"
Ranko nodded silently.
Herb sat staring at the defiant redhead for several long breaths, shaking her head in disbelief. As Ranko had said, Herb's victory had indeed proven less than enviable after all. The promise Ranko had made was essentially worthless, because, as Ranko had implied, the stakes were actually higher now. Herb's lips moved silently as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. Then, without warning, the dragon princess erupted into unrestrained laughter.
When Ranko gave her a concerned, curious look, Herb brought her laughter under control, and observed, with apparent amusement, "It seems that I do not, after all, have unfair leverage over you."
Ranko stared at the other girl for a moment in incomprehension, until the realization pierced her soul. By undermining her promise to Herb, she had removed the one fatal obstacle to Herb's plans to seduce her.
At that moment, a young man was reaching the end of a long and perilous journey. His destination, both infamous and—until recently—unknown to him, was the valley of accursed springs, Jusenkyo. Ryu Kumon, formerly a student of the sealed art of the Saotome Ryu Yamasenken, had embarked upon a voyage of training to develop a new art to help him rebuild the Kumon Dojo. As a consequence of losing his bid to claim the companion art of the Yamasenken, and thus forfeiting his right to practice either the Yamasenken or the Umisenken, he had set out to rediscover and claim an ancient art known as the Shokei Fist.
It was not entirely coincidence that he had learned of this ancient art. During his battles with Ranma Saotome, he had learned of the tragic powers of Jusenkyo embodied by the curse Ranma had possessed. Curiousto know how such a place could ever have become regarded as a training ground for martial arts, he had set out to discover the secrets of Jusenkyo for himself.
It had not taken long before his search led back to the Tendo Dojo. The one person in Nerima in the business of answering questions about Jusenkyo curses had turned out to be the middle Tendo daughter. After extorting a number of free meals and desserts, and charging a steep fee, Nabiki had provided him with a translated copy of the guide book Genma had used to locate Jusenkyo and a list of authorities on Jusenkyo.
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on whom one asked, Ryu had been able to deduce the secrets of the Umisenken by observing Ranma using it during their final battle. Following that demonstration, and in spite of being banned from practicing that art, he had made use of the "silent thief" techniques to gain access to the archives and records hidden at the Cat Café and Dr. Tofu's clinic.
He had not been able to make a detailed study of Cologne's books, since he had a very narrow window to slip in, find the answers he was looking for and get out undetected, but it was enough to learn of the Musk, who had descended from the original masters of the Shokei Fist, the ancient martial artists responsible for creating Jusenkyo's reputation as a training ground. From Cologne's books, he had also learned that the Musk did not practice the true form of the Shokei Fist, but a variant that relied on breeding animal traits into its human practitioners.
Ryu Kumon's research into the True Shokei Fist had been rewarded with very little success after that, but finally, after months spent traveling to distant temples, monasteries and training grounds in Japan and China, he had finally found these words of wisdom. "The Path of the True Shokei Fist lies in mastering the Curse of Jusenkyo."
The wizened old monk who had shared that crucial secret had recited it with the passion of a man how had only recently attained enlightenment. For Ryu, whose quest had already brought him to the province in which the cursed springs lay, revelation confirmed his suspicion that the answers to all his questions would be found at Jusenkyo itself.
Sadly, Jusenkyo was not a place inclined to divulge its secrets, as more interesting fates and diversions were always more likely to be found among its mist shrouded pools.
Thus, instead of enlightenment, what Ryu found as he entered the valley of accursed springs was—to all appearances—an angel perched upon a pole above a shimmering pool on the nearest edge of the flooded valley. Stunned by this unearthly sight, the boy stopped and slipped instantly into the cover of the Umisenken.
The angel balanced gracefully on one foot, wings outstretched for balance as she peered down into the pool beneath her. Her pale hair and feathers glowed with silver highlights in the brilliant light of a full moon. The water danced and writhed with motion that suggested someone or something must have fallen into the spring immediately prior to Ryu coming around the bend into full view of the valley. In confirmation, a woman—no, another angel, as evidenced by the wings that unfurled as she emerged from the depths of the pool—broke the surface and gasped for air.
Ryu held his breath as the first angel reared back in evident surprise. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded in a ringing voice of command.
"It is as I said, Captain Kiima. The Nyanniichuan is no more. It is no longer possible for female scouts such as I to assume human form by using this spring," the second angel declared somewhat defensively.
"Forgive me, Kaana," the first soothed in less strident tones. "I should have known that you would not have defied my order for fear of the curse. This is, however, a most unfortunate discovery. How has this come to pass? Could this then be the confirmation we sought? Yet, this only makes it more imperative to send a scout into the village of the heroines."
"Lord Saffron will be displeased with me," the second angel wailed softly, covering her face.
"Fear not. I am at fault for refusing to keep a stock of nyanniichuan water just for such purposes. I shall enlist some of the men to scout the region for such stores of cursed water, and perhaps a male scout might yet be able to discover some of the secrets of the amazons. Come, Kaana, let us return to the clouds."
With a nod, and a stifled sniffle, the second angel agreed and took wing after the first. Only when the pair had disappeared among the stars did Ryu let out the breath he had been holding and release the shroud of invisibility.
"It very dangerous to be in Jusenkyo when Hououjin come," a voice declared from just behind Ryu. "You very fortunate customer at being so skilled in art of peeping."
"Who the hell are you? And who said I was peeping?" Ryu roared, whipping around to face a plump man in Chinese Red Army uniform.
"Oh, very sorry, honored customer. I am Jusenkyo guide. The technique you use very similar to very ancient, very honored, very perverted customer, Happosai. He call to say he coming to visit soon, I simply assume you must be honored protégé. I so sorry."
"Huh? Uh... yeah." Ryu scratched his head and shrugged off the alarm and anger he had reacted with.
"Now. You come. It very dangerous to visit accursed springs in dark. You come. I fix tea, tell you tragic, tragic story of Jusenkyo while you relax, yes?" the guide prompted nervously, clearly expecting the boy to turn and race headlong into fate's drowning embrace.
Ryu hefted his backpack and gave the misty valley a long look, before turning to reply, "Sure. I don't suppose you know anything about the Shokei Fist, do you?"
"Ah, you knowledgeable customer. One time, many thousand year ago, accursed springs of Jusenkyo very famous training ground for students of Shokei Fist. Then new faction emerge, try to change art and tradition. Much fighting, much bloodshed as Musk rose into power and hunt down last of followers of True Shokei Fist. Very, very tragic story. Come, I tell you," the guide encouraged, waving the boy along as he turned onto the path leading back to his little hut.
While the Jusenkyo guide led Ryu Kumon away from certain disaster in the cursed springs, Captain Kiima and her lieutenant, Kaana, were soaring toward the crest of Mount Phoenix, the home of their people. As they approached, winged guards could be seen circling the peak, a small squad veering towards them to issue a formal challenge for identification. Kiima identified them and ordered Kaana to return to her usual duties, taking a direct course to the balcony outside of Lord Saffron's audience chambers.
The guards standing watch on the balcony saluted as she glided in for a landing, to whom she nodded curtly in reply. With shoulders squared in determination, she marched in through the curtained opening to face the lord chamberlain and the tempestuous child-god of her race. In the back of her mind, she lamented the fact that her guards were only able to fly night patrols three nights a month, owing to the abominable night vision of the Hououjin. In ages past, her people had faced no threats from the air, where they had ruled supreme, but in the past hundred years things had changed, as mankind took to the sky in their accursed airplanes and helicopters.
Shaking off such mundane concerns, she passed through the door separating the public audience chambers from the private suites where Saffron liked to amuse himself. Not too long ago, such amusements had been those of a young boy, such as Lord Saffron appeared to be. But, as more and more of the phoenix's memories of previous incarnations returned to him, Lord Saffron required more sophisticated distractions from his growing frustration and impatience with his childish stature.
"My Lord Saffron," Kiima announced herself at once. "There has been a complication."
"Kiima!" Saffron greeted her impulsively with lingering enthusiasm, jumping up and almost running to hug her. With a visible effort, he restrained himself and as he restored his composure, he ordered, "Report, Captain."
Kiima nodded in obedience. "I have returned with Kaana and confirmed her report that the Nyanniichuan has been relieved of its curse. It is no longer possible for my female scouts to take human form, and I regret to inform you that I failed to stockpile water from the spring in anticipation of this event."
"This is dreadful news!" the lord chamberlain, standing ever patient and vigilant in the wings, announced. "You are certain that the curse itself has been lifted? You are certain that the spring was not merely destroyed?"
"The spring itself is intact, but its waters no longer have any effect," Kiima asserted crisply.
"But, how is this possible?" Saffron demanded, scowling in confusion. He knew instinctively that this was an event of considerable importance. A hasty search through his memories suggested that he should have anticipated such a thing, but when nothing more than a suspicion turned up, he found it hard to condemn Kiima when he was the one who should have ordered the stockpiling of nyanniichuan water in the first place, in one incarnation or other.
"My Lord Saffron," the chamberlain responded dryly. "According to legend, the only way a curse can be lifted from a spring is if a reincarnation of the original victim were to fall into that spring, thereby permitting the resurrection of the original entity. If there is no error in Captain Kiima's observations, then I believe this event can only mean one thing."
"What would that be?" Kiima inquired, knowing that Saffron would not condescend to ask in the wake of such obvious prompting.
"For one, this is indeed confirmation of your suspicions, my lord. According to legend, the young girl sacrificed by the Musk to create the Nyanniichuan fifteen-hundred years ago was the daughter of Pa Shen, your phoenix ancestor!" the chamberlain revealed with excitement. "With the curse lifted from the spring, it is certain that the entity you sensed several days ago was indeed another phoenix!"
Saffron stared at his chief minister in surprise for a moment before turning to Kiima. "Is there any chance this phoenix could be one of the girls your spies reported appearing recently among the amazons?"
"My lord, that was what Kaana's mission was supposed to confirm. However, from outside sources, we have heard rumors about the resurrection of a legendary amazon maiden named Fa Shen," Kiima declared, wishing she had been able to get more reliable information. "I intend to have some of my men scout closer for better intelligence."
"That would be a good idea, Kiima. In addition, perhaps it would be wise to stockpile some Nanniichuan water, if nothing ill has befallen it as well," Saffron suggested. "Lord Chamberlain, is there anything else you can tell me about this girl of legend?"
"My lord, I believe the archives include a portrait of her, as well as historical and biographical information," the old man responded.
"Excellent. I wish to learn more about this other phoenix. See to it at once. Kiima, use whatever means necessary to penetrate the amazon village. I am certain you could find some way of disguising yourself appropriately."
"Yes, my lord," Kiima bowed, her mind turning instantly to the alternative—and much dreaded—method. Instant Nyanniichuan could be readily found, but it was notoriously unreliable. If she did not take precautions to lock the temporary curse, she might revert to her true form in the middle of her mission, but if she did risk locking it somehow, she might never regain her true form.
As she bowed deeper and excused herself, Kiima swallowed the surge of anxiety and reminded herself that it was fatal to defy the will of her lord and god. Whatever the risks, she had her commission. It was time to pay the Musk fortress a visit and hope that the witless henchmen of Prince Herb were still fascinated by female anatomy and remained charged with bearing the sacred treasures of the Musk.
Ranko discovered that she did not have much of an appetite left when she and Herb were finally summoned to dinner. That was easy to attribute to being shocked twice in one evening. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she would learn to just keep her mouth shut. While this latest gaffe was nothing compared to the bombs she—or formerly, Ranma—blurted so often at Akane, it remained true that her big mouth had created yet another problem for her. Thanks to her brilliant argument against the success of any relationship between her and Herb, both of them were now on equal footing.
That was not immediately obvious, since Ranko had only one possible response to any marriage proposal from Herb. If he asked, presuming he ever regained his manhood, Ranko was obligated to say yes. But, for the first time, Ranko was compelled to look beyond the ceremony and the exchange of vows and consider what it would mean to be married.
The real contest, so to speak, would be based on how they interacted as a couple. Being forced to marry him did not in any way obligate her to love him, but his determination—and Ranko paused for a moment to realize that the change brought about by her defiance had caused her to resume thinking of the prince as a guy, regardless of the form he was currently trapped in—to have her love him would compel him to pursue her in ways that she had no sure defenses against.
Not after Cinnamon's revelation.
Herb already had one thing going for him. Well, two things, but Ranko had never felt it was essential for the person she married to have a curse like hers.
Herb was descended from dragons, and like his father, he would have a very long life. Quite possibly, Herb was every bit as immortal as she was. From what she had gathered in passing, the men who had preceded Spice had passed on their legacy as a result of dying before their time. Many had been slain by their "wives" like Ergot, and more had died in combat, but quite a few had been done in by their own heirs.
At least, that was what Herb had told her when she turned the conversation away from their relationship to gently probe into the longevity of his bloodline. Herb had been surprised when she asked him just how long he thought he would live, telling her that all dragon descendants had the potential to live forever, just like true dragons. The catch was, the dragonling had to tap into and embrace his dragon heritage—releasing themselves from the limitations of their human existence and becoming dragons in their own right.
Ranko did not need to be told that Herb was already one step closer to achieving that dream than his father. Herb's curse, if he ever managed to master it, would give him the edge he needed to release himself from human form, because the process of mastering it would be the first step in overcoming his limitations as a man.
For pretty much the same reason, Pa Shen had tried to convince Fa Shen to allow herself to become cursed by the Nanniichuan. By exploiting the training for the True Shokei Fist, Pa Shen had hoped to help her daughter inherit her full potential as a phoenix. What had happened since her reflections were split off by the mirror, was certainly not what Pa Shen had intended. In addition, Ranko had not actually mastered her curse. Ranma and Fa Shen had, but Ranko did not know if she had inherited that when the three of them had fused together. At the moment, it could be fatal for her to test it.
That did not change the fact that Ranko had tapped into her potential as a phoenix because of her curse and the way it had forced her to evolve. She did not doubt for an instant that splitting Herb with the Chaunshontsuniichuan and having the resulting couple engage in sex together would have a similar effect on the dragon prince.
Ranko could not help but glare as she entered the dining hall and took a seat across the long dining table from Cinnamon. Like Herb, Cinnamon was an individual Ranko could count on to live as long a she would, and like Herb, Ranko had no special feelings for her. Ranko had no idea how she could ever get past the resemblance. In male or female form, Cinnamon was an older version of Ranko. Or, in female form, a younger version of her mother.
With a start, Ranko realized that the part of her that had been Fa Shen had been taken in by that resemblance. Pa Shen had been roughly the same age as Cinnamon, in appearance, for all of Fa Shen's life. Worse, Pa Shen had dominated her daughter's life the same way Genma had dominated Ranma's.
That was why she had accepted Cinnamon so readily as her advocate. Shaking her head, she realized that she had been glaring too openly at Cinnamon. Herb had noticed, and the look she was giving Ranko begged for an explanation. Cinnamon, engaged in conversation with Herb's father, had glanced at her once, smiled and returned to arguing with the emperor, keeping his attention on her.
Glancing to her right, Ranko studied the emperor seated at one end of the long table. Herb was seated opposite her father at the foot of the table, so the only person Ranko could speak to without raising her voice was Cinnamon. Not that she had any difficulty hearing what Spice was saying to her advocate. The Emperor of the Musk was clearly still furious about the ruling of the Council of Elders.
"Why I have half a mind to ask you to raze their tiny village to the ground!" Spice bellowed, shaking his finger at the full-blooded dragon sitting across from Ranko.
"Oh, please. Don't tempt me. Not that it would make much difference," Cinnamon rebuffed with a chuckle. "The last time I did, they had it rebuilt again in a month. Out of respect for the poor men who died sweating and straining to get the job done so quickly, I resolved to express my ire in more creative—and personal—ways after that. It also turned out to be a much more amusing way to while away the years."
"Be that as it may, I am starting to think it might be time to remind the Joketsuzoku that it is not wise to court the anger of the Musk," Spice replied, waving his hand to dismiss his previous threat. Turning to Ranko, he nodded in greeting. "Thank you for joining us, Ranko. It is a pleasure to have you at my table at last. I suppose you, at least, are pleased to have gained immunity from the kiss of marriage in the nick of time."
"Ah... er..." Ranko gaped, unprepared for the conversation to jump so suddenly into her lap.
"To be honest," Cinnamon cut in, "the council dared to offer an even greater insult to her than they risked handing you, Spice. I mean, considering who she is, after all."
"Well, we know who she is, Cinnamon. This girl is the legendary Fa Shen, reborn and resurrected," Spice observed unnecessarily.
"Oh, but that's just the tip of the iceberg," Cinnamon began, giving out a yelp as Ranko kicked her in the shin.
When the dragon turned to glare at her, Ranko hissed under her breath, "Don't go tellin' him I'm some kinda Amazon Princess!"
"I wasn't about to," Cinnamon growled back under her breath, before turning back to the emperor. "As I explained earlier, by virtue of those like myself, who were cursed in her image and bore young, Ranko is a matriarch and elder several times over. To refuse to recognize her as such was a mortal insult. If Ranko had not been injured in her recent battle with your heir, she could have rewarded their impudence by reducing their fields and village to ash."
"Truly then, a rash and unwise decision," Spice finally agreed, giving Ranko an appraising look. Those eyes flickered once to take in the bleached appearance of his at-the-moment-daughter, before returning to Cinnamon. "As you said earlier, a prize like Ranko is better courted than conquered, I suppose."
"I'm not a prize," Ranko growled, turning her ire on him.
"That's what Herb said when I first suggested you as a bridal candidate," Spice responded swiftly, casting a taunting look down the table at his wayward son.
"You mean, when you ordered me to marry Ranma, Father. I assure you, neither he nor I could have found the proposal in the least palatable," Herb snapped in instant, restrained fury.
"And yet, did you not come to me the morning after your battle with Ranko and ask for permission to court this young lady?" Spice challenged, gesturing at Ranko.
"Certainly," Herb responded without hesitation.
"But, isn't Ranko also Ranma?" Spice goaded.
"Ranko is more than Ranma. More than Fa Shen even, I suspect. And, as she pointed out just this evening, in spite of the fact that I beat her, I certainly did not defeat her," Herb asserted, giving Ranko an odd, admiring look.
"Not by a long shot," Ranko grumbled, looking away and resisting the urge to squirm in discomfort. She silently wished that absorbing Fa Shen had given her some kind of defense against the effects of such displays of emotion from girls.
"So, naturally, I realized that my only hope of fulfilling your command was to court her," Herb concluded, reinforcing her position. She held her head up and stared at her father until he nodded.
"Very well. Though, you have to admit that her friends put you at something of a disadvantage as far as conducting this courtship of yours," Spice pointed out with a faint scowl. As much as Spice delighted in having the more pleasant form of his curse-given daughter to look upon, he realized that Herb's present form was somewhat deficient for wooing a girl's heart.
"Actually, the fault's mine," Ranko confessed anxiously. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. "I mean, if I hadn't burnt him out, It wouldn't have hurt Herb to be splashed or locked in girl form. It's my fault that the change almost killed him," she admitted guiltily.
Herb stared at her with a strange expression Ranko could not bring herself to meet. Following an unwise impulse, Ranko babbled on, "Not that it matters if Herb's a guy or not. I mean, to me. I mean, the only other guy I've ever really liked turns into a girl now, and everyone else I've ever liked WAS a girl. So, it's not like bein' a girl's a real obstacle or anything."
"I am sure that's something the two of you would have to sort out for yourselves once you're married, considering the way you are both cursed, but, make no mistake young lady, the person you're going to marry is my SON," Spice emphasized, meaning that officially Herb was to be the man in the relationship, unaware of how that emphasis was heard by Ranko.
Ranko's head snapped up as she stared at the emperor, suddenly suspicious. She glanced at Herb, but nothing on the neo-girl's face revealed whether or not she had confided the truth about Ranko's promise to her father.
Spice paused to sip from his glass, giving the long expanse of the table a studied glance. Servants moved during the pause to bring out the first course of the meal with soundless efficiency. Putting his drink down, he confessed, "I am disappointed that not even your mother accepted the terms of my invitation."
"What?" Ranko blurted, looking up from her soup as she realized that the comment was directed at her.
"Certainly Cinnamon told you?" Spice demanded, gracing the dragon with a critical look. "As I understand, you destroyed the place where you were staying in the village. In light of that, I told your mother and friends that they were welcome here as long as they refrained from interfering in your relationship with Herb," Spice clarified.
"Oh," Ranko responded absently. She reached for her glass and took drink to wet her suddenly dry mouth, before revealing, "Mom and the others have gone home, actually."
Spice's eyebrows shot up at that. "I find it hard to believe they would simply leave you here. I believe they demonstrated their, er, devotion to protecting you—or at least pursuing you for their own ends—in the aftermath of your battle with Herb."
Ranko swallowed hard and took another drink. "Well, they only came along to China to help me get back to, er, normal. I wasn't planning to stay here as an amazon. I mean, to them I'm Fa Shen, but that's not really who I am anymore. They're not the amazons I remember. The past is gone and nothing will bring it back, so I have to accept who I am now. That means I have to go back to Japan, as soon as I've recovered from my battle with Herb."
Spice regarded her silently for a moment. Clearing his throat, he responded, "I do not doubt that you have things to resolve back home. I am surprised however. I did not think you would be amenable to such a brief courtship. Herb gave me the impression that it would take far longer to win your heart."
Ranko folded her hands in her lap and thought furiously about what she should say. Herb had been explicit about how far Spice would go to ensure that she married his son. Fortunately, Cinnamon came to her rescue.
"I am sure that Prince Herb would have no objections to continuing his pursuit of Ranko in her own land," the dragon observed with a pointed look at Herb.
"Not at all. In fact, it was my intention to accompany her back to Japan at the end of the week," Herb volunteered, speaking as if that had been her plan all along, and not a spur of the moment decision.
"This was not what we discussed, Son," Spice intoned with obvious displeasure. Giving Ranko and Herb a stern look, he announced, "The notion of allowing this girl to leave here with no assurances does not please me. There is simply too much at stake."
The emperor took a deep breath and resumed, presenting Ranko with a more compassionate, but no less determined mien. "I realize that you think I am being unfair, young lady. You are, understandably, prejudiced by past experience. Please understand, I am not unsympathetic to your plight. I have taken the trouble to learn about the situation you have been in with regard to engagements arranged by your father.
"Unfortunately, none of the girls you were promised to as Ranma, and none of the boys who might be entitled to pursue you as Ranko—based on promises made before Genma had prospects of sons or daughters—have as much to offer or as great a need as we do," Spice declared passionately. Turning to Herb, the emperor demanded, "Can you honestly allow this girl to slip through your fingers, Herb?"
Herb started and visibly swallowed. "No, Father."
Spice nodded. "Are you still repulsed by the idea of being married to her?"
"No, Father," Herb shook her head firmly.
"I do not know what you managed to do to change my son's opinion of you, Ranko, but the very idea that you could have captured his heart makes it even more crucial for you to become his bride," Spice declared, before directing one last question at his son. "Is it true that you have fallen in love with this girl? Isn't that why you suddenly speak of courtship and following her wherever she leads?"
Herb found her eyes drawn to Ranko, who looked ready to explode—desperate to protest, and yet curious to hear Herb's reply. Unable to form words, uncertain precisely what she really felt—but knowing that the feelings inside her would compel her to pursue Ranko whatever the cost—Herb simply nodded.
"Then why can't you just ask her to marry you!" Spice commanded in exasperation.
"Wha... how could you...? I... I can't..." Herb gaped at her father in shock.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Ranko!" the emperor all but shouted, turning to the girl he had selected to carry on the imperial bloodline. When her head snapped around to meet his glare, he demanded point blank, "Could you really say no if Herb asked you to marry him?"
Ranko's mouth opened, and her skin seemed to turn to ice as the blood drained out of her. A voice in the back of her mind was screaming, "He knows! He knows! He HAS to know!" The edges of her vision began to blur and dance as she opened her mouth to protest, to accuse the emperor of cheating, but the only sound that emerged, in a rasp past suddenly parched lips, was, "No."
Ranko had some sense of motion along the left side of her vision, but that might have been a phantom of the colorless, cloying cavern closing over her as the world tilted away from the right. She had become confident that she would escape from her promise, confident that Herb's obsession would not be satisfied by anything less than her love and certain that he would never succeed in inspiring such feelings in her. Like the many promises her father had made, it would have hung over her head holding the future in limbo without ever coming to pass. But that escape had been denied.
Ranko's escape from consciousness was cruelly brief as well.
The first thing she realized, as her vision cleared and her thoughts regained coherence, was that she was cradled in a pair of slim, strong arms. A white, silken curtain hung over her face, framing the worried expression of a familiar, female prince.
"You caught me?" Ranko mumbled, thinking hazily of the distance Herb had to cross to prevent her from tumbling to the floor. With dismay she realized the Musk Prince could only have accomplished that with a boost of speed from her ki.
"I couldn't let you just fall," Herb replied acerbically, flushing faintly as Ranko's eyes returned to meet hers.
"It appears that you are not yet fully recovered, Ranko," Cinnamon declared, appearing at Herb's shoulder. "If you would please excuse us, Emperor, I'd believe it is best for Ranko to return to bed at this time."
"But of course. Herb, please escort your fiancée to your rooms. I am certain you could use some rest as well," Spice suggested, from where he stood beside his chair.
"I'm fine," Ranko protested, weakly, struggling to slither free of Herb's arms and regain her feet. Now that her brain was working again, she was mortally embarrassed that she had fainted.
"I'll be the one to decide that, young one," Cinnamon asserted, with a gentle brush of her fingertips across Ranko's brow. The delicate touch caused Ranko to go limp.
"Don't worry, Ranko," Herb assured, adjusting her grip as she stood and began to carry Ranko out of the dining hall.
Ranko stared at Herb in disbelief, as the import of what had just happened returned to her in a flash. All at once, all she could do was worry, protesting Herb's admonition with a hurt and accusing look. "How can you say that?" she cried softly.
"We'll talk about it later," Herb replied firmly, willing Ranko to stay silent until they were out of earshot. There was no question that Ranko thought Herb had betrayed her, that the whole scene had been set up by father and son to entrap her. Unfortunately, Herb could not deny it without revealing the truth about Ranko's promise to Cinnamon and Spice.
Ranko would have protested, stood screaming in fury, if she could have summoned up enough energy. Instead, she closed her eyes in defeat, feeling for the first time that she was truly alone in enemy hands. From the sound of things, Cinnamon was walking quietly beside Herb as they escorted Ranko back to the suite of rooms where Herb dwelt. With a pang of irritation, Ranko noted that her hosts had never made even a pretence of preserving her modesty by providing her with a room of her own. All along, she had been a prize already taken into possession.
These dark thoughts and feelings continued to churn as she was gently undressed and tucked into bed, joined shortly by both Herb and Cinnamon. The elder dragon was remaining true to her role as advocate and protector by putting herself between Ranko and Herb, but Ranko did take much comfort from that. Cinnamon had made it all too clear that she was just as determined as Herb to claim Ranko as her mate. Worse, of the three of them, Cinnamon was the only one who was capable of assuming male form—and of course the only one of them at the peak of her powers.
The only thing that could prevent Cinnamon from taking advantage of Herb and Ranko was Cinnamon herself.
"Not reassuring," Ranko breathed in faint despair.
"Would you find a different form more reassuring?" Cinnamon asked in a husky voice, guessing at the meaning of Ranko's faint words. She pressed her front to Ranko's back and slid a hand over the girl's abdomen.
As Ranko jerked away, turning to face Cinnamon and sitting up in outrage, the dragon and dragonling both reeled back and sat up to meet her angry gaze. Before Ranko could speak, however, a familiar pair of voices broke the silence.
"Titties!" chorused Lime and Mint in awed delight.
Cinnamon, Ranko and Herb turned as one to glare at the prince's loyal but bosom-obsessed henchmen, shouting, "Get OUT!" The joint command was accented by a sharp cry of pain as Herb reflexively unleashed a chi attack at the leering men.
"Herb!" Ranko and Herb cried, turning to the snow-tressed girl writing in pain on the bed. She spared no attention for the two men blasted through the wall into unconsciousness amid a pile of rubble.
"You fool! I warned you about controlling your impulses!" Cinnamon chastised, grabbing Herb and pinning her in place. "Ranko, hold her down while I see how much damage she did to herself."
"O-okay," Ranko gulped, taking the princess's naked limbs in her hands and straining to keep the other girl immobile.
"Now, brace yourself for a surge of pain. You will be feeling my ki as I read her," Cinnamon warned, before placing her hands on Herb's body. This was the reason Cinnamon had been forcing Herb and Ranko to sleep in the nude. They were both more likely to call on their ki by reflex while dreaming or if startled awake, and if they had been clothed, it would have been that much harder for Cinnamon to quickly diagnose and treat any damage they might do to themselves.
Ranko winced as she felt the flow of ki into Herb's body. It felt suddenly as if she was plunging her arms into a vat of molten metal. The pain was so sudden and intense that it temporarily blinded her. Gritting her teeth to contain the screams that wanted to escape, she focused all her will on maintaining her grip, silently pushing back against the searing agony.
For a fleeting second, Ranko felt a tremor in her flesh. Without an instant's hesitation, she released her grip on Herb and flung herself off the bed. Only as Cinnamon's head whipped around to stare at her in fury, did Ranko realize what it was she had felt.
"Ranko! I told you to hold her!" Cinnamon shouted, struggling to keep control of the girl writhing to escape from her touch.
"I can't!" Ranko cried in terror, staring at them with wide eyes. The tiny tremor she had felt had been a warning of imminent transformation. When she jumped back, she had been a hair's breadth from triggering the twinning curse that had fused Ranma and Fa Shen with her. "The agony! It's the trigger!"
"What?" Cinnamon blurted, breaking contact with Herb's skin and interrupting the flow of ki into the princess's body. As Cinnamon stared at Ranko in growing comprehension, Herb curled into a whimpering ball beside her. "Oh, Ranko! I'm sorry! I should have realized!"
Ranko swallowed hard and waved her hands. "No. It's not your fault. I should have figured it out before. Pain is the opposite of pleasure, but since my ki always causes pleasure, I wouldn't have set my new curse off on my own," Ranko observed with a slightly disturbed detachment. Her heart still pounded as she wondered what would have happened if she had been an instant slower. Would she have been ripped apart the way Herb had been when Ukyo locked his curse? Would she have survived the addition of that torture to the pain of just being split again?
One thing was certain, she was far more sensitive to the touch of another's ki than to a surge of her own. Looking up at Cinnamon, she confessed, "I'm vulnerable to anyone who can channel ki."
Cinnamon blinked once and then nodded in sober agreement. "I wonder why your new curse hasn't been triggered before this, though."
Ranko shrugged. "I guess the pain has to be as bad as, well, the uh... you know... was, um, good?"
"Ah. I see. Like you said at first. The 'agony'. If the trigger for your fusion was orgasmic, the most exquisite pleasure, than the complement would be the most exquisite pain," Cinnamon proposed, looking down to check on Herb as she stopped trembling.
Ranko nodded, edging forward to look at Herb. The Musk Princess lay panting and soaked in sweat, but she was conscious, turning to look Ranko in the eye. With a slight nod, she confirmed that she had heard and understood the exchange between Ranko and Cinnamon.
"It's t... it's too bad. The thing that... makes it easy to... undo your fusion... is the... the thing that... would make it fatal... to try," Herb observed in morbid irony.
Ranko closed her eyes and nodded again.
Ranma Nibunnoichi: Reflections – Volume 5: Paying the Price – Part 03
Author's Note: After much delay, the third chapter of Reflections: Paying the Price is finally done. Due to the many disasters in my life of late, I've been forced to put writing aside while striving to find work and a new place to live, while buried in a mountain of debt. That said, it was a pleasure to scrape up enough free time to write this chapter, but sadly not enough to give it as thorough a proof-reading as I normally try to do. So, please forgive the errors you might find, and if possible, let me know about them so I can fix them when time permits.
As promised, Saffron finally gets a bit of screen time, as well as a surprise appearance from Ryu Kumon. Admittedly, this is still in the arena of setting the stage, so there is certain to be more excitement to come. For all of you who have been patient with me and waited for this chapter, my thanks! I hope you enjoy it!