http://clampfix.fanworks.net/rgv-fix/citadel1.txt </head><body><pre> This exasperating story needs a good kick to get it going again, and I keep not being sure what to say next. So I thought I'd post what I *do* have, and see if anyone likes it at all or if I should shelve it for the rest of the term. -------------------------- Citadel of Illusions It doesn't hurt any more -- not like it did. It's a lot brighter, too. There's something in front of me. I rub my eyes. I'm not wearing my armour anymore. I must be dead. Now where's Sohma? There's the most incredible fairytale castle in front of me. It looks as if it were made of crystal and spun glass. It's all curves and spires reaching into the sky. Behind me are some of the spikiest mountains I've ever seen. Snow on obsidian. But Sohma isn't here. What good is all this lovely scenery without her? There's a dull sort of ache... I can't feel her. "Sohma!" I yell. Is she angry at me? I know she wanted me not to die, but can't she be reasonable? If our positions had been reversed, she wouldn't have wanted to live either... not without the other half of our soul. The spiral castle is pulling at me, somehow. I'm supposed to go in. Maybe Sohma's already there. "You might have waited," I say before I walk in through the open entrance of the shimmering citadel. It's cool inside. The halls are high and vaulted, and narrow only in contrast to their height. Rainbows shimmer in the walls and ceiling. There is a great host of people within, standing around quietly. "Sohma?" I call. Nobody answers. Nobody even turns their head. I go around, looking at all the people to make sure none of the ones in this hall are Sohma. None of them are. I wander into the next hall, and the next. I'll never be sure how much time I spend looking around through these silent halls. Even the noise of my footsteps and the sound of my voice calling Sohma's name are deadened. I'm not the only person moving... some of the silent others are... but they're much more aimless, except that they all seem to be going farther in. Then I enter another hall like all the rest -- it's one of the outer ones, as it has those strange thin glass windows that each show a different outside. One is dawn, the other the dead of night. And sitting on a bench at the foot of one is a woman. She's wearing blue and white. Her hair was once black, but has grayed astonishingly. Her dull eyes stare at nothing. A harp has slipped from her hand, as if she no longer had the energy to grasp it -- or the will to care. MY harp. I cross the distance to her in perhaps three strides. "Mother!" I say sharply. She does not respond. I try waving a hand before her face, shaking her shoulder, yelling at her. She continues in her slumped position, glazed eyes unseeing of anything. Queen of the Kendappa Clan. Greatest harpist and composer in all the Heavenly World. My mother, who died because she was weak in mind and soul. Who killed herself because she fell in love with a younger man who never noticed her. Stupid. Even my nurse said all that would get her was a pass to enter Rijou... Rijou. No. NO! Later, I think that I went mad for a little while there. I never paid much -- if any -- attention to what the philosophers said existence after death was like. Half of them seemed to flat-out contradict each other, and most of the rest couldn't agree. I suppose I hazily thought that, with the good will of That Which Is Above And Beyond, Sohma and I would be reunited, and if not, then I must live my life as befits her other half, and for beyond pray a dreamless sleep. But even I knew the legend of Rijou. The Citadel of Illusions, where those that were tired of life went. It is said that people who had been lovers in the living world might pass each other a hundred hundred times and never know it. On occasion, when the stars are right, it appears in the east of Tenkai. At other times, it is said to be in other places. And although in time gone by there was said to be a bridge to it, now the bridge is shattered, so that none living may enter and none of the unliving might return to Tenkai. I gather myself together. This is Rijou. Sohma would not be here. Would she? Sohma would never give up. She was like that song she had brought back from one of her Dreamwalks, in the tale of a man in a world too tarnished for heroes. Sohma would be the *last* person to go my mother's route of giving up on everything. She'd never come in here. *Unless*, a small voice whispers in my mind, *she went in looking for you...* She would, too. Stupid crazy idealist. Why else would she have joined a bunch of people out to destroy the Emperor of Heaven? Never mind that he's been mad since shortly before he usurped the throne, he's still much, much stronger than she is. The stronger always wins, eventually. I've known that for far too long. And I love her all the more for it. I lift the harp from Mother's lap. Tentatively, I strum a few bars of Sohma's song. "Irenai yume o miru..." It's swallowed up in the silence of Rijou. But somehow, just that small act makes me feel better. I'll take the harp with me. It is, after all, mine now. It can't be much longer after that that I meet the young man. As I come into another hall, some more people come in, wandering aimlessly. There's something odd about one of them, though... a young, slim man, dressed in black, with short black wavy hair... It takes me a moment to place what it is. Then I am so startled that I speak aloud. "You have a reflection," I say. The human looks up, puzzlement overlaid over the pain in his expression. "You talk," he answers. "Ah, you haven't happened to see Sohma, have you?" I ask. "She's about this tall -- " I measure the distance with my hand -- "she's got tea-colored skin, green-black hair about this long, a great smile, dark eyes, lovely limbs -- " I go on trying to put Sohma into words and failing miserably -- "and she's probably looking for me, but this place may have overcome her." "No, haven't seen her," the young man answers. "Sorry." He starts to go on for a moment, then checks himself and turns back to me. "What *is* this place?" He is *obviously* not one of Rijou's normal inhabitants. There's far too much pain in his face, and a look about the eyes that I've seen now and then in Emperor Taishakuten's, and in my own the last few days... "This is Rijou," I answer. "Clear as mud," he mutters. "What's a rijou?" The idiom is strange, but the meaning clear. I sigh and tell him everything I know about Rijou, most of which is liberally adornished with "they say" and "it's told." Now what is it that's familiar about him... or not him, something to do with his aura.... "You're one of Ten-oh's," I state. "What do you mean, one of the Heaven-sprung Emperor's?" he asks me. We are obviously not communicating very well here. "No, I mean Ten-oh. Son of Emperor Taishakuten? Heir to the throne of Tenkai? You're sealed to his service. Has he started maintaining his own corps, then?" Apparently, he doesn't think we're communicating well either. "I am one of the Dragons of Heaven," he states, "but I haven't heard of this 'Heavenly World' thing. And what am I doing here? I haven't killed myself... yet." "I think you're Dreamwalking," I say. "All of Sohma's clan had some skill at it. She wasn't a very good Dreamwalker, though; she could only go to places far removed from Tenkai in space and time. Places like Chikai, or Meikai, or Ningenkai... are you from one of those?" "I am human," he says. "I think." I look around and locate a bench. "Shall we sit down, human?" I say. "Why not?" he says, bitterly. We sit down on the glass bench. "And by the way, lady," he says, "I told you I wasn't sure of my humanity. My name is Kamui." "My name is Amba," I answer. Whatever possessed me to give him *that* name? I haven't thought of myself as Amba in years. I haven't been called that since my mother died. A ruler must take on the name of their clan, to signify that they are the living embodiment of it, and to symbolize that we are no longer people in our own right, but totally dedicated to the interests of our clan. I wonder whether his name is personal or that of his clan. Either way, it is obviously one of terrible power. One must think long and carefully before accepting such, as they bring their own destinies with them. Then an earlier remark of his reaches my intellect. "You're considering suicide? Still? WHY?" "Fuuma... Kotori... how could... I can't..." "Start at the beginning," I tell him firmly, "and when you come to the end, stop." He looks up at me for a moment, saying "My mother used to read me that." Read what? Then he begins his story. He is one of seven people destined to try to save the world, counterparts of seven people destined to try to destroy it. However, all he'd wanted was to protect two of his friends. Then one of them had been possessed by this young man's opposite, and while possessed had slain the other of the two friends, his own younger sister. Now Kamui will have to face this former friend in battle, and he can't stand the idea. "You have to kill him," I say flatly. At least this one's easier. "But I *can't*," Kamui replies. "He's my friend... " "Worlds being destroyed are not a good thing," I answer, "and sooner or later, someone on your side must kill him. If you really care about him, you wouldn't let someone else kill him. Besides, from what I can tell, your friend is dead. All that's left is a rasetsu walking around in his body -- and you can't let an abomination like that exist." "Easy for you to say," he mutters. "Could you kill someone *you* cared about, Amba?" I stare at him. He couldn't know. "I love Sohma more than my life itself," I say, "and I killed her so that no stranger would do it. It was all I *could* do for her. She's probably going to be very cross with me for killing myself, but we have one soul between us and I could not live crippled like that." Now it's Kamui's turn to stare at me. "How terrible... " he whispers. "Love is one of the most terrible things in the world," I answer. "And one of the most beautiful. I've got to find Sohma." "I'll help," Kamui offers. "Thank you," I say. We stand up. A living voice seems to call more loudly than mine can. Besides, this Kamui person doesn't seem to know the first thing about Dreamwalking, and Sohma can probably figure out how to help him get back home... when we find her, that is. We certainly aren't finding her now. We pass many, many people. Some of them bear emblems that I recognize, but I always turn hastily away from them. And all of them are alone, and have a dreadful resignedness in their eyes. Once, Kamui makes an odd choking sound. I look at him. "Someone you knew?" I ask. "In a way," he answers. "Nothing of importance." I have not lived at court for a few hundred years without learning when to keep silent. There's an odd bluish mist in the halls that seems to suck up the sound of our voices. I want to do something -- anything -- to break the oppressive, cold silence. I start playing the harp. I have to hold it at an awkward angle to play it while walking, but I start picking out a song. It echoes oddly, when it echoes at all, and certainly does not fill the hall, but it seems to do something to drive away the bone-deep, nonphysical cold that lives in Rijou. The silent people melt away from the sound. Kamui seems to straighten up. We call Sohma's name with more strength to our voices. When the song is over, I play another one of Sohma's finds. She'd be sure to recognize it. Apparently, so does Kamui. "Where did you learn that song?!" he says. "Sohma brought it back out of one of her Dreamwalks," I answer. "It's called 'Rosenkafalir' or something." "My mother liked it," he explains. "You'd think it would be too modern for her tastes, but she liked it and some of the others. She had a little collection which she kept next to the Beethoven..." "Next to the what?" "A composer, where I'm from." "Was Bei-to-fen human, too?" "Well, of course," he says, looking at me as if I'd just grown an extra nose. "How would you have a non-human composer?" "Oh," I say, slightly irritated. "You must be from the Ningenkai; that's the only place I've heard of where all the people are human. And as for composers, I am one myself." "You're *not* human?" Sigh. The one benefit of dealing with such a master of the obvious is that I will probably be too annoyed with him to slip into Rijou's lassitude. Probably. -------------------------- </pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>