Disclaimer: The situations and characters depicted in this fanfiction may or may not be drawn from sources copyrighted by other people than myself. I make no claim on those which aren't mine. This story is archived at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/ Release 0.1 (Oct. 16, 1999) ------------------------------------------------------------ Shadow Lurker Productions presents Ozymandias Prologue Two Shattered Visage ------------------------------------------------------------ Somewhere, there was a campfire, burning unevenly in the warm summer night. Somewhere, there was a sand painting, which told a story, as sand paintings tend to do. Somewhere, there was a story, for the sand painting to tell. Somewhere, there was a mirror, which reflected the campfire's glow, and also the sand painting, and also the stars. Probably the sand painting, and probably the stars. Somewhere, there was a hammer, made of stone. Somewhere, there was a voice. Probably the voice of one being, though by it's traits it might have been a voice of many beings, speaking at once. Certainly, it was one of the two. There aren't many other possibilities. "Here," it said, "begin here." The sand painting began to shift, changing shape. Probably the sand painting. Or, perhaps it was really many sand paintings, layered over one another like palimpsets on parchment. Perhaps the many paintings were beginning, ever so subtly, to diverge. Probably sand paintings, anyway. ------------------------------------------------------------ And somewhere, there was a dark pit, filled with claws. And a small voice, crying. "Poppa! Ow! Please ... ow ... please stop, kitties. I like _you_, I always liked you, why are you hurting ... ai! ... me? Please!" Pain and blood; desperation, need and desire. What else do you need for magic? And Ranma cried out "Why?" And something answered. ------------------------------------------------------------ Darkness hung complete now, heavy with the smell of cat and thick with the virtual ozone prickle of anticipation. But at least nothing was clawing him. Ranma splayed out flat and small, trying to keep himself hid as his father had taught him. Shakily, he wiped the sweat from his face (it stung in the many tiny cuts across his cheek and arms) and swivelled around, trying to see. Light, suddenly, faint and blue, came from _behind_ him. Ranma tried to swing around suddenly while also keeping low to the ground on his splayed out limbs, and failed to complete either task. With a thump, he sprawled onto his backside and threw out his hands to either side to stabilize himself, tried to rise, and froze. Sitting on a slight rise in front of him, outlined in a pale blue glow, was the Great-Great-Great-Granddaddy of All Felines. By it's shape, something tigerish at about twenty feet long. It was flanked on each side by what seemed to Ranma to be about half of all the alley-cats in the world, dark and grey and marked only by pale glow reflecting from their eyes. "Umm ..." Ranma felt about for something to say to break the silence, "nice kitty?" Its voice was deep and resonant, with savage, piercing overtones. A compilation of every tiger's growl, every leopard's scream, every alley cat's war-hiss in all the world. "No." it said. "No," it rose from its seat and stalked forward, towards Ranma, "I don't think so at all." Ranma shrank back and gulped, but at the same time yearned forward, to see if the deep black fur was a soft as it appeared. "You say you are a friend," the great cat went on, "yet you try to steal my favor, the secret of Cat. Why should I be 'nice kitty'?" "I, I wasn't tryin' ta steal nuthin', honest!" Ranma quavered. "Poppa said I had to go inta the pit, so I'd get strong. I gotta be strong ta be a Man among Men." Feebly he reached out to try to pat the great leg now thrust down next to him. The great cat jumped backwards with a hiss-snarl, savagely loud. Ranma shrank back into a small, terrified, ball and froze. "Oh, of _course_!" it snarled, "You only wanted to get 'strong'! That is certainly an acceptable reason to pervert my rituals and call the favor of Cat upon someone who _I_ never marked. Who _I_ never called. Who does not seem to be of _my_ people or of _my_ naming. Certainly. Yet what is this I smell? Someone seems to have prior claim. Tell me, Child of Man; what is thy name?" "Ranma," Ranma semi-whispered in terror, "my name's Ranma." "Indeed. _Ranma_. Wild _horse_, I believe. So tell me, young Ranma, why you want to have the power of Cat to be strong. You are named for Horse are you not? If you want to be 'strong' and a 'Male among Males' I believe these fall into the portfolio of your namesake. Why do you not call upon Horse's favor, planteater, perhaps _he_ will aid thee." "Indeed," said a voice made up of squeals and neighs and the thunder of thousands of hooves, "perhaps I will." Ranma jerked his head to the side as Cat flowed to one side of the small depression in which Ranma lay. On the other side stood Horse; a stallion built to the same proportion to other horses as Cat was to other cats, glowing a soft white and backed by many pale yellow or grey horses on a more normal scale. Cat lowered his ears as the ally-cats in his train began transmuting into dark and shadowy tigers and lions. "Continue your line of reasoning, brother Cat. I too am curious as to why your flea-ridden furbags are menacing one of _my_ humans." "_Your_ humans, clover-stalker? Have your feeble wits gone begging entirely? The marks of his consecration to _me_ are over him." Horse swelled his chest and flared his nostrils, mincing forward a pace. "Perhaps my ears deceive me slightly," he rumbled, "but I _thought_ I had heard you remark that the child bore _my_ sign." Cat lowered his head and crouched down, flexing a paw full of six-inch ivory claws. "_Once_ perhaps. _Once_. Now he is _mine_. Mine to grant power and favor, or ... not." "Yours?" Horse rumbled, lowering his ears and shaking his head. He minced slightly sideways, and Cat swiveled slightly, tensing. Caught between the two titans, Ranma whimpered. "Still," said Cat suddenly, sitting up and wraping his tail around his feet, "there _is_ an easy solution to this problem ...." "Oh, indeed?" said Horse, warily backing up a step or two. "Oh, in_deed_." said Cat. "After all, if one is unsure of someone's loyalties, should not one ask? Oh Child of Man, you said that you only wanted to be 'friends'? Well then, you need only say _who_ you wish to be friends _with_. And then this matter can be speedily ..." the car-door sized jaws swung closed with a *thud*, "... _resolved_." "An eminently acceptable _resolution_, brother Cat. Indeed, Child of Man," thunder of hooves, "_choose_." "Yes," roars and growls, "_choose_." Somewhere in the darkness, something chuckled. Do you believe in cusp points? In the places where the destinies of men and worlds divide? You certainly should. They believe in you ... ------------------------------------------------------------ Somewhere a voice said, "Now!" And a hammer rose, and fell. And a mirror cracked crazily across, shivered lines of broken glass spreading out from the impact point in a crazy spider-web. Reflections cracked and twisted, going in all directions, crazily askew. Probably glass. Probably reflections. Probably. ------------------------------------------------------------ ... and ... "I don't like _either_ of you," Ranma cried, "you're _mean_! Leave me alone!" "So be it!" Snarls and thunder. And Genma barely caught his son as the explosion blew him out of the pit. 'An explosion? It wasn't supposed to do that!' When he got to a safe distance from the burning pit and put the boy down to examine him, his heart nearly stopped. Deep gashes and what looked like bruises to the point of broken bones covered Ranma's arms and legs and there was a very unpleasant blue tinge to his lips. Fortunately, Genma's life and training had given him a good grounding in emergency medical techniques. 'My son!' ------------------------------------------------------------ ... and ... Ranma barely managed to whisper, "Nice kitty." "So be it!" Growling roars as deep as all the caverns under earth. And Genma came to attentiveness as the random yowls suddenly sounded as one voice. He blinked at the sight of a swarm of alley-cats leaping out the pit in a swarm of paws and fur, as though guided by a single mind. 'Hey, wait a minute!' he thought, 'They're attacking me! OH, SH...." ------------------------------------------------------------ ... and ... Ranma croaked out, "My name's _Ranma_." "So be it!" Thunder of a thousand hooves over a thousand miles of open plains. And Genma came to attentiveness as the random yowls suddenly sounded as one, panicked, voice. He blinked at the sight of a swarm of alley-cats leaping out the pit in a swarm of paws and fur, as though fleeing something truly awful. 'Hey, wait a minute!' he thought, 'They're going to run over _me_! OH, SH...." ------------------------------------------------------------ ... and ... "But I don' wanna 'choose'," Ranma whined, "can't I be friends with _both_ of you?" "Ummm." "Errr." "You're both so pretty .... Please?" There are forces in the world that can resist eight-year-old kawaiiness. Even tear-streaked, timid, eight-year-old kawaiiness. Great totem spirits are not known for being among them. "Errrr." And Genma came to a startled attentiveness as the yowls from within the pit stopped. He stalked over to the edge and peered in to see his son engaged in the highly unmanly practice of petting a bunch of cats. "Ranma!," he roared, "If you're not going to train properly then get up here and spar!" "Okay, Poppa!" Ranma said brightly and jumped out of the pit. No, not jumped. Flowed .... Shortly Genma was lying on the ground shaking his head. "Silly Poppa!" said Ranma, cheerfully, "Why're ya lyin' on the ground? I thought ya wanted ta spar!" "Ah ... not just now, M'boy." Genma said shakily, "Do some kata so I can ... ah ... evaluate your progress." Genma shook his head and stood up. He'd have to be a lot more careful about keeping track of Ranma's progress, obviously; and a lot sneakier, too. And no more untested training manuals, this wasn't meant to be dangerous to _him_. ------------------------------------------------------------ ... and ... Something snickered in the darkness. "But why should he have to _choose_, brothers?" said a new voice. "After all, a lad with such _potential_ ...." it came from a small (which is to say, normal size), dirty dog-like animal, sitting on its haunches equidistant between Horse and Cat. _Probably_ small, and _probably_ dog-like. It was hard to tell for sure. "Would it not be better for him to be friend to us _all_? Then you, brother Cat, could favor him with speed and claws; and you, brother Horse, could give him strength and ... _stamina_. And I could tell him secrets, oh such secrets I could tell him! Doesn't that sound better, Ranma?" Ranma shook his head to clear it. "Ummm, yeah? Sure!" "_Ex_cellent! Then it is settled!" "Ummm." "Errr." And Genma was awakened from a light doze by Ranma shaking his arm. Grinning like a loon, Ranma said, "Com'on, old man, wake up! I wanna get going!" "Ranma!" Genma snapped, "We're staying here 'til you master this technique!" "Yeah, yeah! I _did_ that. Boring! Come _on_, let's _go_!" Dazedly, Genma allowed himself to be towed. Boring? Well, he'd have to try something else, then. ------------------------------------------------------------ Genma breathed a great sigh of relief. After four days, it looked as though Ranma was waking up. He would have to do better, he knew, this had been too close. Too greedy, he silently judged. Too eager for his son's sake. Well it was obvious that _that_ was a bad thing to be, and he was just lucky that he had been able to overcome his own folly and keep the boy alive. He would have to keep to tested techniques henceforth. If it took a little longer, it took a little longer; it wasn't as though he was on a schedule. This was to be the culmination of his life, he could afford the time it took to do it right. He wondered if he should stop a temple for a while. Perhaps he could consult with someone who knew what methods were safe to use and how to judge. In any case, no more untested training methods, and he must be more careful. Gently, he stroked the boy's fine hair. It was his son, after all, his _only_ son. He couldn't afford to lose him. He loved him too much. Slowly the blue eyes opened. "poppa?" "Yes Ranma, it's me. You're going to be alright. And Ranma?" "uhhuh?" "I'm sorry, and I love you." "'sokay, poppa. i love you, too." ------------------------------------------------------------ Covered in bandages, Genma trudged up the road. Behind him, Ranma followed, frowning. He wasn't fully weaned yet, he knew. Still lessons to learn. But that old tom had better watch out. He wasn't going to put up with ear-cuffs forever. Someday he'd break free, hunt on his own, maybe even find a mate. He grinned nastily at his father's back. Sometimes toms who don't know how ... old ... they're getting get their _own_ ears cuffed, in the end. 'Who knows,' he thought, 'could be fun.' ------------------------------------------------------------ Covered in bandages, Genma trudged up the road. Behind him, Ranma followed, frowning. He wasn't ready to leave the herd yet, he knew. Inside, he shivered at the thought. But his sire had better watch out. Herd-leaders get _old_, and colts grow up. He grinned nastily at his father's back. One day _he'd_ be the stallion. ------------------------------------------------------------ With a small bandage around his head, Genma trudged up the road. Ranma bounced along behind him, grinning cheerfully. This was fun! He'd never had friends he didn't have to go away from before, and being stronger and faster was really neat, too! He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before, and resolved to keep his eyes open in the future. Might be a whole _lot_ of friends out there! Never know until you look. ------------------------------------------------------------ Frowning distractedly at a guidebook, Genma trudged up the road. Behind him Ranma followed, quietly. Briefly, he regarded his father's back. Briefly, he looked away, and scanned the countryside. Probably, he was scanning for any threat that might be lurking there, a task a martial artist trains himself to perform, constantly. Probably. Bright-eyed with interest, he looked up, into the sky. Smiling happily, he looked down, at the road. Looking up to gauge the weather, looking down to check the footing. Probably. Almost certainly, really. In some sense or other. For a while, he watched a tree that grew beside the road, his head cocked as though to listen to a voice that wasn't there. For a while, he looked at a small bush with intense interest, as though it was the most interesting thing in all the world. As though it held a secret. Perhaps it did. And then he smiled and linked his arms behind his head. And turned to look down the road ahead for a long, long time. Probably he was merely examining the day's walk, looking along the road to see if he could see the end, and what it would be like along the way. Probably. Certainly, he was examining the journey, and the terrain the journey would be over. In one sense or another. Without a doubt. Smiling happily. At peace with the world, and everything in it. So much to do. So much to see. Such a secret that he knew, to hold tightly to along the way. All at once he laughed, a great billow of boyish, high- spirited glee. Perhaps it was the joy that comes with being young and happy, outside in the sunshine on a beautiful summer day. Or, perhaps, it was simply that he had thought of a joke. If it was a joke, it must have been a good one. He laughed and laughed and laughed. ------------------------------------------------------------ And somewhere Coyote, who is also Raven, who is also Stone Monkey, who is also Kokopelli, who is also Pan, who is also Bacchus, who is also Ishtar, who is also Hermes, who is also Serpent, who is also Chung Kuei, who is also Utgard Loki, who is also Hanuman, who is also Kwaku Ananasi (when he can be bothered), chuckled, sniggered, and grinned like a maniac. And danced a little dance on his lover, the Earth. And yipped a little song to his lover, the Moon. And threw back his wise, grizzled, ancient, terrible head. Laughing. Always laughing. It may have been joy in the day, for him too. Or, for him too, it may have been a joke. A wonderful joke, by the way he laughed. From one viewpoint or other. No doubt something innocent and child-like. Probably involving a banana. No doubt. No doubt at all. ------------------------------------------------------------ The Beginning.