The gnarled staff and equally twisted form that clutched it slunk quietly through the night, the battle atop a nameless peak that had lost almost two hundred feet from its summit had not gone unnoticed, and despite it, the wrinkled female form continued to the almost-mesa. Two Phoenix patrolled the skies nearby, and unfortunately for them were too close for the dried husk of human flesh's liking. Drawing from her robe a pair of daggers she waited only a moment before sending first one than the other into the air, weighted against the wind by a unique application of dark power. The two sky guards fell without a cry, the long daggers jutting from vitals. They had been unfortunate fools in the wrong place. Without pause the woman continued.

Quietly she made her way into the passage under the earth. The cool stone of the passage thrummed with power.

A shiver ran through the ancient being as she moved silently into the cavern within the hill, the otherworldly light spilled out of the depths of the earth in a hellish manifestation. Her wicked features became even more malicious as the dried face twisted into a cruel smile. There was no warmth there.

Something that would terrify man and god alike was revealed as the ancient woman shed her robe, falling into place opposite the other form still to be found chanting and feeding power to the arcane glyph. As she joined him another, equally complex pattern flared to life, stark contrast to the male. Balance in all things it seems. Her wicked cackle rose into the night as they chanted in eerie harmony.

So Cold

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 7 - The Paths We Walk

Tendo Rei knew fear that night, and could do nothing to quell the dread that rose within her. Her fingers clutched the table's edge in a white-knuckle grip, slowly crushing the thick, hardwood, furnishing. Her dreams were coming true, and though she had always known they would, this visit was merely a confirmation of the undeniable truth. Dark times were coming, and there was no way of knowing the outcome.

She had increased the amount of time spent training nearly threefold. Three months ago, three hours in the evening and one before school had been regular for her, now they were a joke.

Closing her eyes she could not help but shiver as the memory of her dream ran through her, inundating her with fear like icy knives along her skin.

"Father, I believe it is time for me to train." She excused herself from the table, and turned toward the door. She would have to get to work, increasing her workload would put an even greater strain on her at school, but nothing she could do would change that. She refused to be a liability or a weakness to her family.

Ranma

He gazed across the room of the small inn room in wonder. Why had Kiima come with him? No -- he knew the answer, and surely as he knew, so did she. There would be no denial of what was between them. He could not identify what he felt precisely, other than a strong sense of contentment. She had brought peace and comfort to this new world, to the new life he had to live. Twenty years had gone, and even though Herb assured him that Akane was well, he had not said more. There was no doubt in his mind that she had moved on. He was happy for her, and wished that she had found happiness.

Frustration welled within him as he once again fell into the past, reminiscing about the sweet face, and private smiles. Akane had never been the perfect fiancé, but she had captured his heart somehow. His memory of her cruelty was fresh, but before that he remembered the warmth of her smile, the strength of her convictions, her right cross. He rubbed his jaw and a smile crossed his features and a dry chuckle passed his lips. She rarely did any lasting damage, and usually that was with her attempts at domestic tasks.

His memory of her was not sour. He had accepted long ago that she was who she was, and only time would give moderation to her volatile temperament. She was not by nature a homemaker, but the vibrancy of her life was something that had captivated him like no other.

Could Kiima be a hasty replacement for the girl that he remembered? No, he knew that that was just pessimism. She was vastly different from the fierce girl he remembered. Kiima was indeed a swordswoman, a fiercely and loyal soldier in the service of her lord, but beneath the steel she was a tender and overwhelmingly feminine woman. Akane had been a flame that drew him; Kiima was warmth that sustained him. Was this love? No, not yet.

He found her with his gaze, a softness passing over his features. The moonlight danced over her form as she slept, and in that instant, she was breathtaking. She was always beautiful, but it was times like these, private moments, when her guard was lowered that she truly shone as a woman, and not the deadly beautiful Valkyrie of her waking hours. Those soft smiles were for him, he knew. His thoughts turned to a week ago, when he had first awakened from the battle with Herb.

Flashback

"Where am I?" A groan escaped his lips as he shifted in his bed, snuggling into the warmth of his blankets, studiously ignoring the aches in his arms and legs.

Singing, it was soft and the words were lower still, but the melody was clear and the words unexplainably soothing. He could not understand what she said, for it was in her native mandarin, yet the emotion conveyed within the song was overwhelming. Her voice was beautiful, and the song was haunting.

A tear trickled from the corner of one steel tinted eye, rolling over his cheek toward his ear when the song halted abruptly. Her hand brushed his cheek, wiping away the moisture tenderly. She knew he was awake, or if not, then her song had reached him in his dreams. She had turned to return to her task when he spoke.

"Please, Kiima, keep singing." He almost whispered, throat dry. His eyes were open only slightly, he could see her gentle smile. Another thing she gave only to him.

She began her song again. Softly at first, but as she sang, her volume increased, until her voice echoed in the expansive chamber. The aria soothed him, slowly his eyes opened further, and her vocals drew him from the half slumber fully into the waking world until his gaze rested on her solely.

Sunlight caught in her silver mane and wreathed her in a halo. She sat beside his bed as a human woman, a common thing. The effect of the Spring of Drowned Akane had long ago vanished, leaving her in the form she had gained when first she had gone to Jusenkyo. He smiled, knowing that were she in her true form she would be as an angel. Western beliefs did not have much influence on his upbringing but more than once the catholic churches in the larger cities had depictions of angelic forms, and when he gazed up at her, he could see the image of nirvana before him.

The string of thought halted suddenly. 'What the hell?' He didn't know what had caused it, but his cheeks burned with embarrassment when she turned and met his gaze. He could not help but notice the tinge of pink in her cheeks. His world reeled as the implications of her blush bore fruit. He did not know why, but instead of stuttering or shifting uncomfortably as he had always done in situations of the like, he could only offer a small smile.

"When are we leaving?" The silver haired swordswoman asked him as she found her composure.

"We?" That was the start of their travels.

End Flashback

He could not quite comprehend what brought her with him, and when he had asked, she simply waved him off, diverting the topic in a manner others might have found convincing. He saw through it, but respected her privacy and let it be. Kiima had not lied to him, nor had she withheld anything to do with him. That part of him that was a pessimist insisted that she was hiding things; that perhaps her goal was to use him as others had done. In an instant, he dismissed the thought.

He watched her peaceful sleep awhile longer, listening to the sounds of the night until drifting to sleep once more.

Ryouga

Pole axed was too light a term for his state. The Musk warriors had left the day previous, parting in haste. Rei's dream was coming true, and now, they knew that he would return to Japan. He'd long forgiven the pigtailed man of the imagined wrongs, and had gotten over the sorrow he felt at never being able to earn forgiveness for his transgressions against the friend he'd never appreciated.

Rei had barely left the dojo since last night, returning only to sleep, and then again she had returned to the wooden structure. He heard the labored breathing, and piercing kiai's that indicated training, felt her utilize the iron cloth technique once again, investing greater power and weight into her gi. He should be helping her, and trying to find out what she knew. Ranma's style was unmistakable, chaotic savagery and deadly grace wrapped in silk. Against all logic, she knew it. Perhaps he could glean something under the guise of training.

"Only one way to find out." He thought with a sly grin, knowing that more than ever his daughter would challenge him.

"Akane, I'm going to train with Rei. If you need me, I'll be in the dojo." He had not reached the door when she grabbed him by the sleeve, spinning him on his heels. He felt her weight collapse into him desperately, crushing herself against him as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He could see the confusion in her eyes as their embrace ended. He traced the line of her jaw with a hand, and watched her shiver and lean into his touch. She was scared, the ghost of a love long dead returning to torment her and no way to exercise what was apparently never truly dead.

"Ryouga, I love you." He knew she meant those words, as much as he had meant them on their wedding day, the day Rei was born, and a countless number of times the words had come from her in years past. He smiled gently at her.

"And I love you Akane." He knew she wanted his reassurance, and he had granted it. Ranma was a love in her youth, though that was all. She had married him, borne his child. She supposed he must think of her as using him as a replacement, and in truth, he knew that in a way he was. Nevertheless, she had fallen for him. She had resisted his comforts, clung almost steadfastly to Ranma's memory for far too long for him to be insecure about her sincerity. Never once had she called him by Ranma's name, and that was reassurance enough that he was first in her heart. He was happy being second in her heart now, their child taking his place as first to her heart, as it should be.

He broke contact with her reluctantly, feeling the embers of passion she had started in him. No time for that this early in the day, there was much to do before they could express themselves as lovers this evening. He left the house and made the short trip to the dojo. He summoned his battle aura; different from the invisible field he used everyday.

The motion in the dojo ceased and the door slid open. Rei stood before him, every bit of her available power swelling within her. He nodded to the preteen and spoke one word.

"Hajime."

Akane

She heard their clash and the continuing sound of flesh striking flesh. It was a sound that she as a martial artist had heard many times. A crash, indicating the result of an exchange no doubt. She admired how effective a teacher Ryouga was, holding himself back enough that he fought just outside Rei's reach, keeping her striving to defeat him without discouraging her with the inability to so much as land a single blow on her vastly better opponent/sensei. She knew just as any teacher of the art knew that their pupil sought first in their skill to match and then better their sensei. It was a cycle that had gone on for hundreds if not thousands of years. This in fact was the goal of any half decent teacher, seeing their student surpass their skill and then progress on their own, both in life and in the art they taught.

Her desperation to show Ryouga that she truly meant her love for him had gone well; though tears had threatened to spill every instant she had been alone since she read the message from Herb.

"Ranma." The name left her mouth and that was when she realized how she was acting. Her temper flared as she chased the train of thought away, squashing it mercilessly. She wasn't some moonstruck teenager anymore. She was a grown woman, and a mother. She had loved him long ago, and that was never going to go away entirely, but it had gone enough that she would be able to face him. It was going to be hard these next few months; she'd best renew her own training. Ryouga's mastery and capable teaching of the Iron Cloth technique was not limited to their daughter, in fact, it had started with the girls mother. She realized that she could finally prove something that had nagged at her mind for a long time. When Ranma arrived she would show him what she'd in these years, show him the power of her style, and the validity of her skill.

A small smile crept over her features when she went started on dinner.

Rei

She knew now how the hero whose style to this day overrode any other imprint left within the dojo had felt. Her father was vastly stronger than her, and despite holding himself back to merely be an overwhelming opponent she was gleeful in her frantic strategies. Her style was at best an amalgamation of his aerial style, her father and mother's ground oriented style, and the smatterings of original Tendo Ryuu her mother had taught her in the beginning. Every time her father struck she sought a way to use his force to power her attacks. Instead of trying to match his strength she'd long ago utilized soft style approaches to his crushing strength. Absorbing impact for rebound strikes during hit trades. Her entire body screamed in protest at the stress she put upon it, but she knew that come sunset she would feel that which was as precious and dear to her as gold, the raw soreness in her body from pushing herself to her limits.

Her exultation of the art was cut short as she was forced to return her concentration solely to the fight at hand. A devastating punch soared toward her and she knew she'd not be able to avoid it. But she could, she realized, and initiated the maneuver without a second thought. His fist closed in with blinding speed, and with fluidic movement she turned to one side, taking his wrist and giving it a tug, she knew he'd not lose his balance, but her smaller frame allowed her to use his force to increase her rotation. She took to the air in that instant, chambering that same fist. With a piercing cry she was striking out, releasing all the energy she could in this strike. She wanted her father to know her strength, she was going to give as she got, even if just this once.

She realized belatedly that her father was not using the whole of his strength, and as she knew the dodge was coming she watched as nothing happened, her father remaining in place for her technique to connect. She winced as she felt the pain bloom in her hand as the brutal blow struck his jaw, making his head tilt to one side while she was certain she had bruised her fist.

He grinned at her viciously, issuing a palm strike that stole her breath even as it pressed her back ten feet. She lifted her uninjured hand to her chest as she fought for breath. She was good she knew, and had surprised him with that technique, that perhaps was why he hadn't moved, to demonstrate the downside to that attack. She catalogued it for future reference as one not to be used against someone, who like her father, used earth oriented martial arts. She shook her right hand, trying to regain sensations other than the painful throbbing. She had her breath under control again and retook her stance. Her father did the same even as he spoke.

"Good, you realized the same thing he did." Her eyes widened in shock as she realized her mistake. She had used a maneuver that she could only have learned from one person. He knew then, and had been expecting her to resort to such a tactic when faced with his assault. Ranma's style was perfect for fighting her fathers, he having been one of the primary influences to the Saotome male's style.

"That it doesn't work on someone like you." She responded gruffly. She knew that she shouldn't speak so disrespectfully to her father, but he wasn't addressing his daughter, he was speaking to her with a respect one acknowledged of another student of the art, and for that, she would reply to him in kind.

"You know the style then?" She asked simply, studying his guard, looking for a hole. They had at some point begun circling one another. The time for pretense was gone.

"Only what he used on me... and Saffron." She was surprised at her father's admission, that Ranma hadn't used some things against him that he had against his killer; then again, from some of the imprints in the dojo she was unsurprised. Ranma Saotome's style was one of extremes, utilizing techniques for soft incapacitation of his opponent to the other extreme, brutal dismemberment of his enemy. She couldn't be surprised given the sometimes life-threatening nature of his enemies, like the Orochi that her mother had once told her the tale of.

"He's coming back, and when he does something bad is going to happen. I want to help, but I'm not as good as you or him, can you help me?" She was asking him to let her walk into danger. She knew that this was a truly horrible thing for her to do, but she wanted to help in this coming conflict, not be a helpless observer as awful things happened. Her mind raced, and before she could find her focus again he was upon her, raining blows that she could barely manage to block. His power had increased again and training renewed.

'Thank you.'

Mu Tzu

'Traveling with Saotome when there is no animosity between us is certainly different from what I remember of our youth.' He mused as he trekked forth, keeping pace with the two others who walked ahead of him. His sharp ears caught bits of their conversation, but mostly he was left to his own devices during their travel. It was a challenge at times to not tease his old friend about the childish dancing the two did around the subject of their feelings for the other, even if it was as obvious to him as daylight was to a sighted person. His amusement ended though when they stopped for the night and Ranma asked him to show him more of his energy manipulation techniques. He wasn't going to teach Saotome attacks, or his own style, but he'd agreed to teach him the relatively simple techniques that for Ranma would mean the ability to remain in control of his power without exhaustive concentration.

"Alright, I suppose I could do that. Herb is a natural, but I'm more precise from what I've seen." It was true, his energy had always been tied up in other things, Hidden Weapons required a committed allotment of his ki, and so he was unable to use it for projectile attacks when they were young. Now though he could use his power more economically, managing energy attacks, Hidden Weapons, and blind sight.

By the time either had returned to camp that night it was well past dark and both men had learned something. It would take much more than they had done though before either was finished with the things he could learn from and about the other man, let alone about himself. Mu Tzu settled on a rock near the fire, eyes open despite the cataracts that characterized his blindness. Sightless stares watched the area around him, though his senses told him that Ranma and Kiima were talking fifteen meters away. She had apparently been awaiting their return. He can't imagine that her night vision had improved so much as her senses had increased enough that she could pick her path by something other than sight. That made him smile. He had learned to appreciate things such as that.

Their hushed tones and the sounds in the night around them made eavesdropping, even for one such as him, impossible. That didn't bother him though, as their conversations were their own, and it was no his place to interrupt anything that might be between them. He was happy for Ranma, and would toast the day they admitted their feelings for one another.

Ku Lon

She couldn't believe this, they had traveled all the way to Phoenix Mountain, and climbed their way to the Sky Gate, and after all of that, to find out that they'd been gone for days. It was unsettling, and even more so it was the one who delivered the message of their departure. Ku Lon had been surprised to find herself received well, let alone shown to meet with Saffron without fuss. She had expected to find the God King in his true and mature form, but the egg that pulsed in mental communication had shattered all of her notions. He truly was immortal. She shuddered to imagine what he would be like if the ki that she felt emanating from the egg was only what was unneeded for maintaining that form. He had explained some things, and they were things that she much preferred to keep Xian Pu from learning.

She was intelligent, but a secret keeper she was not. Ku Lon had been saddened by her great granddaughter's refusal to take her place among the council, but she reasoned that being new to parenthood was no time for a political career. Sadly, Ku Lon could do nothing to argue to the contrary. Children were of great value to her people, and as much time as they could allow as spent with parents and family. Familial loyalty was the core of Amazon society.

They were preparing to set out once more, the Phoenix gladly giving them what supplies they would need for their new journey. A messenger had been appointed the task of delivering the message to Mu Tzu's parents, informing them of the change in plans, and that they needed to make their journey to Japan. The council's plan had to be defeated, and to do that, she needed to meet with Ranma.

The old woman took a long drag from her pipe, inhaling the calming smoke. Holding her breath a moment to savor the flavor of the leaf she exhaled again, this time releasing what seemed to be a mountain of tension from her withered form.

"You always were trouble Son-in-Law."

Phoenix Mountain - Royal Quarters

"Are you certain old friend, that there is nothing to be done?" The ancient Phoenix man, Kozu, queried of the egg before him.

"I am afraid that the future lies with those from across the sea. We can only hope that the perseverance Saotome has shown will win him this victory. Dark times approach and the prophecy unfolds, already the strength of the shadows is increased. The saying 'the deeper the darkness, the stronger the light' will have to be our comfort." The leader of the phoenix could only be said to have sighed, though the term was inaccurate. A solemn silence hung between the two. A time of tumult was upon the blue planet, and their hopes would rest on one man.

Unknown

The power that hung in the air of the cave thrummed in time with the heartbeats of the two wrinkled forms that were now still, sitting cross-legged on opposite sides of the seal they had created. Their power ebbed and flowed, filling the air evermore with their twisted and incredible power. Fissures in the walls began to spread as the pressure became too much, cracks formed and spider-webbed throughout the cavern, even as stalactites broke free from the ceiling and fell toward them they remained immobile, the heavy spears of stone obliterated on contact with the symbol of power. Two voices, cracked and broken joined the hum of power in the air.

As one their voices pierced the night, screams of triumph as they felt the gate open. Their words uttered in a language long thought lost to mankind.

"We beckon ye forth, Lord of Midnight. We summon you, o Avatar of Oblivion." The array shone one last time before being enveloped by the ebon energy. The darkness concentrated, falling into itself at the point of the summoning circle, swirling, twisting and taking shape. This was the gate, and beyond it, their master. The agonizing weight that hung in the air affected them both, dropping them to their knees. It was only fitting that they bow before their master, and his growing presence seemed to command it be so. Prostrated with eyes lowered they did not see the form that was defined as the gate waned and disappeared.

"Rise." The word was spoken simply, and the two twisted humans could do not but obey. They were subject to the will of their master, and would do as their lord commanded. They would not stand, but instead, rise to one knee, raising their eyes to take in the shape of their liege.

"For what end have you summoned me?" This was the terrible master, Abyssal Shadow, and his name was as accurate as one might ever find. He was man-shaped, but that is where the similarities between he and the ape-descended dominators of the earth ended. Where one part began and the other ended was clear, but beyond that no feature was distinct, leaving the demon a mercurial being of shifting darkness. Chains trailed his form, links broken apart from where they had grappled with him. Their master had been imprisoned and now was free, surely they would be rewarded.

"We have called to you, my lord, to ask a boon in return for the freedom we have helped you achieve." The words were full of false confidence and piety: they had been humbled by his presence, and were merely sheep that acted the part of wolves.

"Ask of me your boon and you shall have it." The cackling that night was beyond description and the world over the people could not help but to shiver as they continued their lives unaware truly of the evil that would be visited upon their reality.

To Be Continued...

A/N: As always, please feel free to leave a comment with any opinions you may have about the progression of the story. I do apologize for the delay, but my computer