Despite the friendly atmosphere of the dinner table, Archon couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t quite belong with the group. She was one of an ancient people, the only people who knew the history of the world before the Rains of Destruction. She was also eating far less than anyone else. She glanced down the row of towering figures, all with huge masses of food heaped onto their plates and all digging in with gusto. Even the diminutive Sheila had several large fish piled in front of her and a tankard of ale almost the size of her head. ‘By the silver moon, where do they put it all?’ It was easy to see where the food was going where the trolls were concerned, as even the relatively slender Vyrlga was noticeably larger than Ranma. But the smaller werecats (well Gar and Ranma, at least) were still managing to pack just as much food into their bodies. She chanced a glance down, but from what she could see, Gar and Ranma’s stomachs were as flat and chiselled as they were several hours ago.
“See something you like?”
Archon started in surprise and turned to face Sheila, who was now sporting a wide grin. “Pardon?”
Impossibly, the werecat’s grin grew wider. “I noticed you checking out Ranma and my brother just then, so did you see anything you liked?”
The Silvite blushed. “It wasn’t like that, I was just wondering where all the food was going.”
Sheila glanced at the two male cats and grimaced in distaste. “Yeesh, those two are really putting it away, aren’t they? I think it’s some kind of martial arts thing, ‘cause all the martial artists I’ve met eat like that.”
“…it’s horribly fascinating to watch.”
The diminutive jagwere nodded absently. “Like watching two ships collide, then fall, burning, to the bottom of the sky.”
Conversation picked up by the time dessert was brought out, as almost everybody was taking their time and savouring the delicious danish that Brod had thrown together. Ranma glanced up from his empty bowl and, after noticing the absence of any more unclaimed dessert, engaged the Captain in idle conversation. “So Captain Brod, where are we headed?”
Brod swallowed the dessert in his mouth before answering. “Sailor’s Island. We should be there by this time tomorrow.”
Archon glanced up curiously. “Sailor’s Island?”
The troll Mage nodded. “It’s the hub of the trading network on Jade, and it’s also the home of the only entrance to The Retreat.”
Sheila continued the explanation. “Brod’s going to sail past it and drop us off in a lifeboat before heading on his way. Hopefully that should shake off a few of our pursuers. Then it’s back to base for us.” The petite Jagwere's gaze turned curious. “How about you, Archon? Where are you planning on going?”
The regal woman looked up from her bowl. “I’m going to help Ranma in his quest to find the Moon Crystals.”
Sheila looked slightly uncertain. “How are you going to do that? No offence, but you don’t really know your way around Jade, do you?”
To everybody’s surprise, both Archon and Ranma shook their head. Gar spoke first. “Do you mean to say that neither of you know where you’re going?”
Ranma shrugged and chuckled weakly. “Looks that way.”
Brod groaned and rubbed his face wearily, and the rest of the trolls looked like they agreed with his assessment of the situation. Gar glanced at Sheila, and they communicated in that silent way that only really close sibling seem capable of before Gar turned back to the Weresmilodon. “I think it would be best if one of us went along with you to show you around. If you’re trying to save the world, you don’t want to get lost on the way, right?”
“I’ll go.”
Gar blinked and turned to his sister. “Are you sure?”
Sheila nodded. “You need to get back to base and tell Onoli about everything that’s going on. Besides, I’m sneakier than you are, and that’s a plus when you have to outmanoeuvre a country.”
Her older brother glanced at Ranma and Archon. “I know Sheila can move around unseen just fine, but what about you two?”
He blanched in surprise as Ranma vanished from sight. Narrowing his eyes, he focussed on picking up any sign of the hidden furry. ‘Sight…nothing. Smell…faint, but still there. Hearing…’ This took more effort. Ranma could still be heard, but only very faintly. ‘…damn, he’s good.’ “Impressive. Alright, you win that round.”
Ranma faded back into sight, smirking in satisfaction.
Brod adjusted his glasses as he examined the pigtailed werecat. “How did you do that?”
“Umi-sen-ken. A martial arts school my otherwise useless Old Man created.”
The troll frowned in thought as he nodded absently. “I agree with Gar; impressive.” He turned to Archon. “Can you do something similar?”
She shifted in her seat. “…not yet.”
Gar stared at the two strangers, then back at his sister. “…Fine. But I expect regular reports on your progress through the network, got it?”
Sheila saluted. “Yes sir!”
The large Jagwere turned on Ranma. “And you! If anything, and I mean anything, happens to my sister, I will hunt you down and break you in half, understand!?”
Ranma nodded solemnly while Sheila rolled her eyes. “Perfectly.”
Late that night, Ranma knocked on the door to Jalliele'Brea’s room. “Archon? You wanted to see me?” The door opened, and when Ranma stepped inside he saw Archon seated on the bed. On the other side of the room. He turned around just in time to see the door click shut on its own. “Was that you doing that?”
She smiled softly. “Yes. One of the many benefits of telekinesis.”
Ranma nodded and took a mental note of the ability. ‘Telekinesis = move stuff without touching it.’ “Anyway, you wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Please, be seated.” When he was sitting cross-legged across from her, she continued. “As I told you earlier, my tiara grants me powers of the mind; mild telepathy, barely more than empathy, and telekinesis, as you just saw. Unfortunately, it has become apparent that these abilities will not be enough. Our enemies vastly outnumber us, and I am afraid I will be little more than a hindrance to you as I am right now.”
Ranma scratched the back of his neck nervously. Archon was looking rather depressed, and he had no idea how to fix it. “Well, I can show you how to fight, and I’m sure Sheila could give you a few pointers…”
The shapely Silvite smiled a little. “I appreciate the offer, but we both know it would take years for me to learn enough to be of any help. No, I have another idea…” She reached up and gently slid the tiara from her head. “…this Artefact can bestow even greater powers, but in order for me to access and wield those powers I have to seal the tiara within my body.”
“…if it was easy, I’m sure you would have done it by now. What’s the catch?”
Archon smiled was now forced. “The sealing process is agonisingly painful and not a little dangerous.”
Ranma stared at her in silence for almost a minute before he sighed. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind, is there?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, I’m afraid not. Ranma, I need your help for this.”
“…what do you need me to do?”
Archon took a deep breath before answering. “As I said, this process is agonisingly painful. Simple, but painful. I need you to hold me down, to stop me from hurting myself any more than necessary.”
Her reluctant assistant nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” Archon slipped the tiara back on her head and lay back on the bed. “Wait.” Ranma pulled off one of his leather glove, popping the moon stone free before twisting the glove and holding it out to Archon. “Here, bite down on this. Trust me, it’ll help.” She nodded and placed the glove in her mouth, biting down hard as she activated the Artefact. The gold tiara glowed brightly and melted into pure power, flowing around her head to centre on her forehead, forming a circle with a curved line beneath it…
“MMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNPPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!”
…then the circle and curved line started forcing their way through her flesh. Crimson blood and crystal tears flowed down her face, as she twitched and writhed in anguish. It tore Ranma apart, having to see his new friend, or anyone, in such pain. His tears mixed with Archon's blood and tears as he gently but firmly held her still for what felt like an eternity. Eventually the glowing faded away, leaving a hideous gaping wound. Desperate to stem the flow of blood, Ranma pressed his uncovered hand firmly against the wound, drawing another muffled howl of pain from the Silvite. Used to healing his own wounds by channelling his Ki into them, Ranma instinctively poured his power into his hand, feeling another vaguely familiar presence add its own strength and lending guidance. As his hand glowed and his Ki poured from his body, Archon’s cries ceased and she relaxed greatly. When he felt he had done all he could, he pulled his hand away, revealing only blood-soaked fur.
She had been healed.
Bast’s voice whispered softly in his weary mind. ‘Needs a little practice, but not bad for your first try, kiddo.’ Another flare of that familiar power, Bast’s power, and there was a towel and solid gold bowl filled with warm water on the bedside table. ‘Now be a gentleman and wash that blood out of the poor girl’s fur.’
Ranma did as he was told, pulling his glove from her mouth and cleaning her up as well as he could. She murmured softly in response to his ministrations, and by the time he was finished Archon had fallen into a deep sleep. ‘She’s sleeping peacefully…heh, that sounds like a pretty good idea if you ask me…’
Bast spoke to him once more. ‘It is a good idea. You’ve had a long day, Ranma. The first of many, I’m sorry to say.’
‘…why did I agree to this job again?’
‘Because you just couldn’t say no to my beautiful face, that’s why!’ Bast’s playful voice turned uncharacteristically stern. ‘Now go to sleep!’
Ranma, emotionally and physically worn, collapsed onto the bed next to Archon, unconsciously wrapping an arm around the redhead and pulling her close before succumbing to the Sandman’s final assault. No doubt there would be a great deal of blushing and stumbling explanations come morning, but for now the two of them were comfortable, curled together on the small bunk.
A soft pair of lips brushed softly against Ranma’s furry cheek. ‘Sweet dreams, my Avatar.’ Bast chuckled softly before withdrawing her presence. ‘The saucy ones will come later…’
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(Posted Mon, 25 Apr 2005 19:10)
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