Sol of Luna: Near and Far
Author: Gakusangi
Author's
Notes and Acknowledgements:
RECAP – Mello and Near finally
managed to make it to a small farming community that was suffering
from the lack of rainfall. Meanwhile the Emperor
dispatches his secret military unit, called the Kagebannin (Shadow
Guard), led by a man named Teru Mikami. Later the Emperor
discusses other possibilities with the mysterious creature that only
members of his bloodline can see. Mello dreams more about
his past, this time introducing us to his friend at the Guild, a
young and eccentric boy named, Matt. He awakens to
discover Near missing, and quickly rushes outside, where he witnesses
Near make rain to feed the farmers crops.
This is a Death Note fan fiction. Many of the characters presented here are not mine, but the legal property of writer Tsugumi Ohba, and artist Takeshi Obata.
Chapter 04: Age Old Evils
The robed silhouettes of the sages stood on the edges of the summoning circle, etched upon ground. The cliff over looked the coastline, and in the raging storm, the waves crashed against the rocks below making sounds akin to the claps of thunder. Dark clouds swirled overhead, and the occasional flash of lightening lit the area, sharpening every detail of the scene. The Emperor knelt in the center of the circle. It had taken almost everything for him to be here this day, performing a sacred rite that had not been spoken of for thousands of years. His wealth, his kingdom, even his family had nearly been sacrificed for this moment. All he had left, was his title, the only thing left of his station.
The sages looked at one another nervously. They knew the risks involved. They knew why no one had attempted something like this since the ages long since past. But they had been gripped with the possibility. The idea that this could actually be achieved, 'if' they could do it, was really all it had taken to place them here. They all took their positions. The time of evoking was at hand. The air was heavy with spiritual energy, pulsing, bending reality, breaking reality, tearing it asunder, and opening the way. The path into other worlds was laid bare before them, and all they could do was stand, gazing with mounting wonder, and horror. They had done it. But should they have?
Something from the other side, a being from another world, road in through the channel they had created. It appeared in the center of the circle, towering over the still kneeling Emperor, a slave before the master. The ultimate end made manifest. It was the reaper, the soul harvester, Death incarnate. The Emperor's words caught in his throat. The creature before him resembled a human skeleton, his dry dusty bones inlaid with hundreds of precious, sparkling gemstones. Its fleshless face seemed to grin down at him, its empty eye sockets seeming somehow filled with eerie life, and hungry. Its mouth opened, and deep, rumbling voice drifted out.
"You have summoned me?" Its mouth did not move with each word, rather it simply opened and the question came to their ears.
"I am Nathaniel River," Emperor stated, "Fourth Emperor of the Jade Throne."
"And would a human of such status want with me?" The skull asked.
"I wish to master death, to close its eye to me." The Emperor answered.
Laughter, deep and rumbling filled the circle. The sages shifted uncomfortably.
"You cannot conquer death." The creature said. "Human's haven't the power to have death turn its back on them. That is a power that only the Shinigami possess."
"Shinigami?" The Emperor breathed. "The Death Gods?"
The skull laughed again, send chills down the Emperor's spine.
"It is possible to forge a pact with the Shinigami." The skeleton creature announced. "But it will not save you from death. However, it can provide certain…assurances."
The Emperor thought for a moment. He was kneeling at the feet of the being that could control death, which had achieved immortality. It was offering a portion of that power to him, regardless of his station, a mere mortal. This was an opportunity that he could not pass up. That any man could not have taken.
"What assurances?" The Emperor asked.
Those empty eye sockets came alight with wicked power.
--
Lanterns hung from the ceiling shedding dim light over the nearly empty chamber. Incense burned through the open room, filling it with a sickeningly sweet smell. The only people present in the room were the Imperial High Summoner, Kiyomi Takada, and a few of her most talented students. Since it had been years since the Emperor had called upon her services, in fact, they had not requested her assistance since the end of the Clan Wars, seven years ago, she was surprised to discover a herald at her door. He was a short, portly, old man with greying hair wrapping around the edges of his bare topped head. He wore glasses, and was heavily perfumed, though it would have been undetectable to most people, its sent being overwhelmed by the incense.
The Imperial messenger approached the raised platform set in the center of the room, Takada sitting cross-legged upon it. She was a beautiful woman, with an athletic and curvy figure, and soft features. She had short, thick, dark hair, and gentle, but intelligent eyes. She had a presence that was as elegant, and mystifying as it was terrifying. The herald bowed low before her, in a show of great, and deserving respect.
"High Summoner Takada," The man began, "The Eighth Emperor, has called upon your services."
Takada's eyes caught the light, glowing with primal fire, like the eyes of the wolf. A satisfied grin crossed her features.
--
Light Yagami had served in during the Clan Wars. He had been the top ranked warrior among the Akabannin, the first Imperial Guard. The clan title had been stolen from them, in light of the Kagebannin victory over the nine clans. Now Light spent his time rotting in an eight by ten cell deep beneath the palace, a prisoner of a war that was long since over. He was finished, forgotten, doomed. That is, until the day that Teru Mikami, the commander of the Kagebannin, graced Light with his presence one evening.
Mikami peered into the cell, his smile broad upon his sharp features. Light sat in the corner, at the foot of the bed. His eyes locked onto his age-old enemy with a cold stare. The eyes of a killer just visible behind his long bangs. Mikami chuckled.
"Well, well," Mikami mused, "I see that your confinement hasn't destroyed your mind."
"The past seven years have only strengthened my determination to see you die before my eyes." Light replied bitterly.
"I came down to see if you still had some fight left in you." Mikami said.
"Hand me a sword and meet me outside," Light responded, "We'll see how much fight I've got left."
"I wouldn't doubt it." Mikami replied. "I've always regretted having not met you in single combat. It was shame that grunt soldiers overtook you in your sleep. You deserved better."
"That's something we can easily remedy." Light spat venomously.
Mikami chuckled again.
"You just might get your chance, Yagami." Mikami said calmly.
Light didn't respond this time. His mind was busy milling over Mikami's words, and possibly what they implied.
--
Mello and Near made their way down the wide trade road. It was nearly empty, since the rumors of a Vile stocking up and down it had spread. The sun shown brightly in the clear, blue skies above, no indication of where the rain clouds from the night before had gone. Mello glanced over his shoulder at the exhausted white haired boy behind him. He had a pretty good idea. Near sneezed loudly, making Mello jump slightly.
"That's what happens when you stand out in the freezing cold, making rain all night!" Mello shot back at the smaller boy.
Near only sniffed and wiped his reddening nose with his shirtsleeve. Mello snorted. Near was likely to have a fever as well. This was just their luck. Finally going the right direction, and now he had to get sick. Mello shook his head in frustration, but didn't waste the effort scolding Near any further. It would have been a waste of time anyway. The merchant road looked well traveled, the rocks and pebbles had been pounded to a fine powder, which kicked up in small dust clouds as the two boy walked onward.
Mello didn't mind moving a grueling pace this day, since he had to be on high alert for any signs of danger. A Vile was nothing to scoff at. A spiritual being that was the embodiment of mortal sin, wasn't something you took in with half glance. He would have to be ready for anything. Normally mortal weapons had no effect on daemon, but this didn't concern Mello. He wasn't wielding any normal sword. That was his trump card, his ace in the hole, and any advantage was better than nothing.
Near sneezed again, it threw his small frame forward with such force that he almost stumbled into the road. Mello whirled on him again.
"Could you keep it down, please?" Mello spat. "I need to hear, and we don't want to give away our position!"
Near didn't reply, he stood swaying for a moment. Mello came closer to the boy, concern crossing his features.
"Near?" Mello called.
Then the white haired boy collapsed, his pale form obscured by the dust cloud that was thrown into the air from his fall. Mello rushed over and took the smaller boy into his arms. Near was hot, and drenched with sweat. Mello placed on hand on the boy's brow. He was positively burning with fever. He shook the Near.
"Near!" Mello called. "Near, wake up!"
Near remained unconscious, he didn't make a sound as Mello shook him roughly in his arms.
"Near!" Mello called again.
Then there was an odd sound, like something dragging in the road ahead. Mello came up, his hand racing to the grip of his sword. But something unseen slammed forcefully into his chest, knocking all of the air from his lungs. Mello fell to his knees, his vision blurred. Just ahead, he could make out a shape on the road. But then the darkness eclipsed his sight, and he lost consciousness.
--
"I've chosen my best and most trusted men for this mission, your Highness." Mikami told the Emperor. "But for my command team, I've chosen outsiders for their expertise."
"Who?" The Emperor inquired blankly.
"I've chosen Gevanni, Lidner, and Rester." Mikami replied. "As members of the Prince's personal guard, they can provide valuable insight. Constables Larry Conners and Shawn Dunleavy have been chosen for their investigative skills. Finally I chose Ill Ratt and John McEnroe, of the city watch, and Ellickson Gardner, formerly of the Imperial Legion, since they're all veteran soldiers."
"That's an impressive team." The Emperor remarked with his dead tone.
"There's one other." Mikami admitted with a grin. "I've chosen Light Yagami as my second."
"Yagami, formerly of the Akabannin?" The Emperor asked.
"The same, my Emperor." Mikami answered.
"He's a prisoner of war, an enemy of the Empire." The Emperor replied, his voice even and unreadable.
"Nonetheless, his skills are indispensable." Mikami responded.
"Are you sure your desire to meet Yagami on the battlefield has not clouded your judgment, Mikami?" The Emperor asked.
"My mind is clear, my Sovereign." Mikami replied.
The Emperor fell into silent contemplation. Mikami turned to leave.
"There's one other thing, Mikami." The Emperor called to the man's back.
"Yes?" Mikami asked, turning to face the Emperor.
"Kiyomi Takada will be joining you on this mission." The Emperor said, and though his tone hadn't changed, something in his words indicated that this was not up to debate.
All the same, Mikami protested.
"The High Summoner?" Mikami said with shock. "With all due respect, your Eminence, her services are not required."
"Nonetheless, her skills are indispensable." The Emperor replied, a small grin curling his lips. "And she will accompany you, in the retrieval of my son."
From behind the thrown, the creature that only the Emperor could sense had an amused bout of cruel laughter.
--
The memories flooded into Mello's mind with crystal clarity, every sense and detail brought to the front, as though he were experiencing it all in at that very moment. The fires burned high, setting a red glow over everything, their heat pressing intensely against the small boy's skin, and columns of smoke blotting out the sky. It was mid-afternoon, but the smoke had plunged them into twilight. The boy watched as his home burned beneath the fire of war. The agonizing screams of his parents echoing in his ears, as he watched the building crumbled into fiery ruin, embers licking his cheeks.
Thin, but unusually strong arms took the boy from the ruins, lifting him up. The boy glanced upward into the face of the person taking him away from the fire, saving him from the destruction. It was the very face that Mello was looking into at this moment. Pale, with sharp features, and wide, dark eyes, with shadow crescents beneath them. His body seemed gangly beneath his long-sleeved shirt and faded jeans. His raven hair swept back and slightly to the side.
"It's you!" Mello breathed. "From the Fire!"
The man was squatting in a chair in front of the desk, facing the door. It seemed a very uncomfortable position, his feet flat on the cushion and his knees drawn to his chest. Like a gargoyle perched atop a cathedral. His empty eyes bore into the blonde boy, seeing through him, reading him with practiced ease. It almost seemed invasive.
"Please, have a seat." The man said, gesturing to a chair in front of him.
Mello stood for a moment, too stunned to move, but eventually fell into the seat across from the man.
"As you have undoubtedly deduced," The man began, "I am L."
Mello nodded. He was sitting before the one person that everyone at the Guild aspired to be. L was for 'Legend', that is what everyone said.
"I have been observing you these past few months." L said after a long silence. "You've taken to the top of your class, even surpassing Matt and Linda. That's impressive."
Mello nodded again, it was all he could do.
"It seemed that an award for your efforts was due." L went on, rise from his seat and shuffling lazily over to the desk.
He lifted a sword and held it before Mello. It was shorter than most swords Mello had seen, with a blade that was slightly broader. It had a single edge with a slight curve, many markings adorning its metallic surface. There were also wave patterning in the forging, indicating that it was of high quality Damascus steel, a rare and powerful ore. Mello reached for the weapon, but L withdrew it.
"This blade has a history." L whispered.
Mello leaned forward on the edge of his seat, eager to hear the man's words.
"It has had nine previous owners." L explained. "Five of which reside in the Champions Hall, brave and worthy heroes of the Guild. However, the other four have all met with terrible ends…and unfortunately all them at my hands."
There was a brief pause then, before L continued.
"All things in this world are part of an equation, which must be even at both ends." L said to the boy. "Balance is the key. Without harmony, this universe would fall apart. I'm only saying this because..."
He held the weapon out again, within the boy's reach.
"If you become the tenth master of this sword," L went on, "Then you may very well be the balancing factor. I may have to take it from you, as I have the previous four."
Mello regarded the sword for a moment, and then he reached up with surprisingly steady hands and took it from the man.
"It is called, Muramasa." L said. "And I wish you the best of luck."
--
Mello awoke, his eyes coming slowly into focus. When he could see clearly, he spotted Near lying upon an altar, still unconscious and looking terribly sick. Mello went to move forward, but could not. He was shackled to a rough, stone pillar, the metal biting painfully into his wrists. Mello glanced about. They were in some kind of cavern, with a small body of water nearby. The whole place was lit by seemingly hundreds of candles, set about the chamber in no particular order or pattern.
"Near?" Mello called.
"He hasn't even moved since I brought you two here." The voice came from Mello's right.
Mello turned his head and beheld the evil that had brought them to this place deep underground. It resembled a young girl, with long, flowing red hair, a slender, but toned body, clad in fine silks. Her finger and toe nails were unusually long and thick, black in color. Her eyes were black, with no whites, empty. When she laughed at his expression, Mello could see that her tongue was long and black, and that her canines were also longer than normal, and very sharp looking.
She approached Mello, and the shackles prevented him from retreating from her.
"Your skinny." She teased. "But you seem strong, in both mind and body."
She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him against her. Immediately Mello felt the effect she was having on him. His body shook slightly, and his heart began to race in his chest. A warm, pleasurable feeling caressed his insides. She was shorter than he was, and had to stand on her toes in order to make herself eye level with him. She nuzzled the tip of her nose against his and smiled. Anger overtook Mello, clearing his senses.
"What do you want?" Mello demanded.
"I thought it was obvious." She whispered.
"Piss off!" Mello snapped. "I don't want what you're selling!"
She almost recoiled from his words. Mello saw a hint of fear cross her face, and light her eyes. But she regained herself quickly, and gave a laugh.
"Reduce me to the status of a mere whore." She chuckled. "You're stronger than I thought."
She caressed the bottom of his chin with a one, clawed finger.
"Regardless," She resumed in a low, threatening tone, "I will break you."
She withdrew her finger quickly, nicking his chin, and drawing a small line of blood. She licked a drop of it from her finger tip.
"Mmm, yummy." She teased.
Near groaned on the altar, drawn both of their attention.
"Sounds like someone's feeling left out." She said.
She began to approach Near.
"Stay away from him!" Mello shouted.
She whirled around, her face full of shock. She wasn't very powerful after all. But a wicked smile crossed her face.
"Well, I never would have guessed that about you." She teased. "So you're on that side of the fence."
"If you touch him," Mello breathed, "You die slow!"
"I'm positively shaking." She replied.
Then she came beside the altar, looking down at the small white haired boy. She ran her fingers through his hair.
"Such a pretty little thing isn't he." She remarked. "The white gives the impression of purity. Purity I must have."
She hopped onto the altar and sat atop the boy, placing her hands gently against his chest.
"The poor thing's sick." She said with mock sadness edging her tone. "But I'll make him well again."
She leaned over, and with her long, black tongue, she licked the side of his face. He stirred, and his eyes came open slowly, unfocused and bloodshot.
"Hi there." She whispered brightly.
Near looked up at her, and she grinned down at him. He then turned his head, sick, tired eyes falling on Mello, shackled to the pillar.
"Do you want to feel better, sweetie?" She cooed.
Near looked back at her, his expression blank. He than reached up slowly and took her wrists in his hands. She smiled at first, expecting him to try and pry her hands from his chest. But then her expression changed to one of mingled horror and pain. She cried out, the flames of the candles flickering violently about the chamber. Mello watched in stunned silence as steam began to rise from between Near's fingers, and the flesh of her wrists began to blacken. She pulled herself from his grip and rolled off of the alter, Near rolling off on the opposite side.
Near glanced up, and spotted Mello's sword resting against a nearby rock. He crawled over to it, too dizzy to stand. He grabbed the weapon and began to crawl over to Mello's side. All the while the Vile screamed in agony, her frightened eyes fixed on the charred flesh of her wrists. Using the pillar for support, Near rose to his feet and unsheathed the sword. He brought it around with every last ounce of strength he could muster, and struck the chains that bound Mello. The sword cut through the shackles with ease, and Mello pulled away from the pillar, taking his sword from the white haired boy.
The Vile turned as Mello rushed forward, sword in hand. He swung, and she raised her hands defensively. The blade bit through demonic flesh, taking most of her fingers, and setting a deep, horizontal gash in her chest. She screamed again, and a chilling wind whipped through the chamber, nearly knocking Mello over. Her body began to wither, her flesh drying out. Soon she was nearly skeletal. Her screams bouncing painfully off the walls of the cavern. Then she flew backward, as though an unseen force was pulling her away. She landed in the water nearby, and it immediately began to boil. All the candles suddenly went out, and they were plunged into darkness.
To Be Continued…
Author's CommentsI know, there wasn't a lot of action until the end. But I needed to introduce some characters, and history while I had the chance. Sorry. Are Mello's flashbacks getting annoying yet? Are you guys starting to get an idea of what might be going on?
Comment if you liked it, otherwise I'll assume that no one did, and stop writing.