http://clampfix.fanworks.net/rgv-fix/selfsac2.txt </head><body><pre>Self-Sacrifice II: Kujaku I am alone, enshrouded in silence, as the elfish little scamp, Ashura, winds her way past the swelling tide of bodies toward the castle's gates. So alike, we two. Innocent, unwanted children of fate. Had I any tears left, I would have shed them now; yet I stare dry eyed, as the tragedy unfolds itself like the shredded wings of an iridescent butterfly. My insides shiver as a draft of arctic wind wraps around my bones, penetrating through the layers of silk to settle in the marrow of my bones. Its icy tentacles spread, congealing in my veins; my heart, a throw-away toy in its skeletal fingers. Yamato, melded from the heat of my last tears, had succeeded only too well--I have none to blame save myself. Run. Run away. The disembodied head forever etched in my mind, condemns my very existence, drowning me in those gaping holes of abyss--socketless black eyes. I am falling. Falling endlessly again with no one to catch me. No light at the end of the tunnel. Tested. Failed. Fallen from grace. "Leave me be!" Was that me? It cannot be. "Peace!" It is too hoarse, this outburst. People are staring, with fear or awe I know not--care not. "Let me have peace. . ." The voice fails, trailing off in whispery sobs. My hands fly up, trying to muffle the words. My mouth remains open, frozen beyond control, venting incoherent cries to the cold, cold heavens above. How indifferent are the stars, high above the world in their lofty thrones, unchanging in their course. Oh, to hurl them from their mighty seats, crushing them beneath the heel of my sandal, grinding them into the earthly dust so that each, shinning particle would never find the other. . . To punish them for their glacial apathy. Rail. To fight in vain, to be dragged kicking and screaming like a fractious child in throes of a tantrum by Fate's cadaverous hand. Ashura. Yasha. The Six Stars. Just once, I would like my ballad to have a happy ending. There have been too much suffering, too much at stake, for this tragedy to be played out. The love between Ashura and Yasha--will it remain unsung, unknown as all others? I leap into the air, the wind shuffling my black feathers, to glide across the tree tops, circling ever nearer, yet never arriving, to Zenmi-jou. Home. How long has it been since I had last taken refuge within those sturdy walls? Will I ever regain my innocence? The tingling skin beneath my fingers are smooth, a mask of frosty alabaster. Where is Kujaku? Buried beneath this mask? Tearing into my face, my lips form a silent shriek. There is no physical pain as well trimmed nails break off, caked with glistening blood. Get this mask off of me! Somebody help me. Please. Please, help me. . The splintered nails rake, sliding down my face in a futile search as my lungs expand, pressing against the brittle ribs, ready to burst into a thousand, sparkling pieces of frail glass. Blinded by a ruby haze, I reel, mindless. Warmth trickles down in little rivulets, pooling in the tiny crevices above my cheeks. Blood. "Here is my sacrifice." Spreading my wings, I soar higher, past the highest tower. "Take it and be satisfied. Demand no more!: I continue, pushed past the finite limits of my endurance. "Hear me heavens, and hear me well. I despise you--revile you in defiance. And in contempt, you shall be moved!" A flash of brilliant blue light. For one, brief instant in time, when space and time collide, the weave of life creates sense from nothingness--meaninglessness loses meaning and death breathes its final life. Reason and purpose for every soul, a pulsing kaleidoscope of swirling colors, are revealed; a revelation so profound that it stuns the mind, striking it deaf and mute. Cool waters bathe my face, washing away the blood and the fears. In wonder, I reverently dip the tip of my index finger in one of its pools, tasting it; a fragrance that a thousand lilacs and a hundred roses cannot dare compare. Tears--what miracle. As the light clears, the ground rushes up toward me; hurled from the golden apex, I am the comet streaking across the night sky. The ridiculousness of the people, tiny black ants unable to see the light, working, seeing only the painted world of illusion, clenches my throat. Yet, I drink in my last glimpse of the world, revelling in its glorious flaws, for one last time, before sight deserts me. "Kujaku. . ." Ashura's smiling laughter, a sweet and soothing music, smoothes the folds and the wrinkles of my thoughts. Death, an ethereal young woman with soft and starry eyes, embraces me. Welcome home. </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>