Ranma paused and gave a brief thanks for the fact that he didn't breath any more. The damnable Wyld Hunt had been tracking him for two days now. He let his anima flair up, hoping the cloak of shadows it granted him would be enough to shake his pursuers for a while.
While he waited for the Hunt to pass by he thought back to how he'd managed to get himself in this position in the first place.
"Hey old ghoul," Ranma called out as he stepped into the dark demesne. If not for his Second Breath, he'd be blind as a bat here; what little light there was seemed to be absorbed into the very stone.
Then again, if not for his Second Breath he'd be here as one of the genuine dead, and not as a deathknight.
"Ah, there you are Chaos Demon." The old ghoul, as he not-so-affectionately called her, was unearthly beautiful woman, especially since she was easily three centuries older than he was, with long bone white hair, flawless pale skin, and dark eyes that could se right through someone's soul. Her name was Scent of Death, though most often called her Cologne. She was a dark witch of the Daybreak caste and well respected leader.
"Indeed. We waited long enough." That was the Bleeding Sword, Tatewaki. One of the Dusk caste, Ranma and he never really got along unless they were up against superior odds. It was a matter of pride between them that they kept track of the number of kills they'd made since meeting, and so far they were neck-and-neck. Literally.
"Behave!" Cologne snapped at the taller Child of Ash. "This is important, and we have no time for your usual bickering."
That sobered the two men quickly. "What's up?"
"I have just discovered that my great-granddaughter Shampoo has discovered a sword, a grand daiklave of soulsteel." Cologne's grandson had married into one of the houses that ruled over the Blessed Isle. Her great-granddaughter happened to be 'blessed' as a dragon-blooded with a water aspect. She had also lead at least three Wyld Hunts.
"What's so special about this daiklave?" Tatewaki asked.
Ranma nodded, but remained silent. A grand daiklave was impressive but nothing that special enough for it to merit anything more than a casual warning. One made of the soulsteel was even less impressive; only other deathknights could truly use one effectively, and no deathknight would willingly work with the traitorous dragon-blooded. There had to be more to the story.
"This daiklave is a powerful artifact - the Soul Mirror."
That caught their attention immediately. "The- the Soul Mirror?" Tatewaki asked stutteringly. "As in the blade crafted by the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears herself?" The Soul Mirror was more legend that reality. It had been lost centuries ago to the Terrestrials, and no one knew what had happened to it.
Until now, it seemed.
"Yes, that Soul Mirror," Cologne confirmed. "It seems Shampoo and her ilk know what they have on their hands, as well; they have already begun plans to move it beyond our reach."
"You, Chaos Demon, will need to provide a distraction," Cologne directed. "Bleeding Sword will lead a charge just long enough for them to 'catch' you trying to steal the blade out from under their noses. I want you to attract the attention of the Wyld Hunt. While the Wyld Hunt is chasing you, Bleeding Sword will return to turn the blade on its captors." She turned to the Dusk caste warrior. "Take as many of them down as you can, but get out with the Soul Mirror or don't bother coming back."
Ranma sighed. 'Hope that damn fool got the sword.' He'd hate to have their rivalry cut short. Their rivalry was one of the few things that kept him on his toes. Last thing he needed was room to slack off.
Either way, two days should have been more than enough time.
It took only a moment's meditation to activate the transparent peach-colored gem he wore in an amulet about his neck. A little concentration activated the clear triangular-cut prism worn on his bracers. They were his hearthstones, prized possessions from years of dedicated service. With both active, he now looked like an attractive woman native to the area. A quick change of clothes, and he'd loose the Wyld Hunt for good.
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(Posted Thu, 24 Jun 2004 07:15)
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