Part One: Heart of Ice
It is dark. But she doesn't notice. My lady is lost in her own little world. A faint smile comes to her lush red lips as she slowly rocks back and forth.
"Hush little baby... don't say a word... Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." she sings softly. "And if that mockingbird don't sing..."
I sit down beside her on the bed. My sea blue eyes, normally as cold as the depths of the sea in the dead of winter, were now rich with sadness. I stroke her fire and ice hair gently as her melodic voice floats around the chamber, as if borne on wings.
"Momma used to sing that song to Junko... you remember, 'Shio?" the angel murmurs. She gazes up at me with big emerald eyes. "Momma could always sing so pretty... she was so pretty..." She cocks her head to one side and eyes me critically. "What happened to your face ‘Shio? Did you get hurt?" She chews on her lip and says in that strange voice between child and woman, "I bet you were picking on Whitefire again and she clawed you. Bet you made her mad."
I reach up and trace one of the many scars on my once handsome visage. I feel my lips twist into a snarl. She whimpers and shrinks back, frightened by the rage on my face. "M'sorry, Yoshio."
I am instantly contrite. "Don't worry about it, baby."
She scoots over to me, still a bit uncertain. "Did you see Junko and Sobo? It's been so long since I've seen them..."
I don't bother to tell her that Mia and Junko are dead. She'd just deny it. "Did I mention you look beautiful today?" I kiss the satiny skin of the nape of her neck and gradually trail kisses upwards to her jaw, and finally her lips. She moans softly, making me smile. What she says next sends a knife straight to my heart.
"Oh... Anubis..."
I pull back sharply, stricken."Ryoko... Anubis is dead. Remember?" I say harshly.
"LIAR!!" she shrieks in denial. She puts her hand to her temples and squeezes those beautiful eyes shut. "Liar... liar... liar... he'll come for me... he loves me... I know he does..." She begins to rock back and forth again. I regret my words, but it is too late to take them back.
"Shhh..." I soothe, all the while cursing that bastard for stealing her heart before I had any chance to win it. If he was still alive, I would slit him from navel to nose... all the while I know this is a lie. I can never intentionally cause my angel, my 'Yoko pain. She has suffered through so much of that. "Anubis is fine," I say through gritted teeth. "I saw him the other day... he... asked about you."
She sniffles and looks up at me. I want to scream at the hope in her eyes. Ungrateful bitch! Slut! I would walk a thousand miles over glass for you! This is how you repay me for rescuing you from Loki?! Damn you, why can't you love me?! Sometimes... I hate you more than I love you... why do I have to feel anything at all? Why can't my heart be encased entirely in ice?
I stand abruptly. I don't even bother to look back at her. If I do, I fear I may kill her. And that would mean my own death. For she is everything to me. I care nothing for Talpa or his Dynasty. I serve him, but he will never be my master.
As I walk down the foreboding halls of the palace, my footsteps echo off the walls, a steady, rhythmic pounding.
<Elemental Warlords... report to the throne room at once...>
I obediently make my way to the throne room, idly wondering why Talpa had only bothered to summon the four of us. Of course, the reason is obvious. We are more competent than the Dark Warlords. We no longer share the same bond we did, in fact, we almost resent each other, but we work as a team, and do not lose ourselves in such petty squabbles.
The twin doors to the throne room loom before me, and I push them open, hearing the familiar creaking sound they make. As I enter, I see my three colleagues assembled.
Kenji, Elemental Warlord of Air; his blue hair in its severe ponytail, with his missing blue eye, black socket gaping obscenely. I don't know why he never sewed it up.
Hiroko, Elemental Warlord of Earth, her beautiful braid no more. She had hacked off her hair up to her ears after we had joined Talpa. Silver grey eyes that once shone with laughter now reflect only sadness.
Akira, Elemental Warlord of Spirit. Once he had been Light, but that light and shy gentleness had dimmed to dull nothingness and cynicism. A terrible burn mars the left side of his face.
And then there is Yoshio... Elemental Warlord of Water... leader of the Elemental Warlords. My heart is nearly frozen now, but for the one warm spot it holds for my angel. I stare ahead, at the malevolent being sitting imperiously upon his throne, as if he were ruler of the world. Which he was.
Chained naked to the front of the throne, a collar fastened around her pale throat, was Torai. Once our ally, now Talpa's plaything. She knelt on the stairs beside Talpa, head bowed, her long hair hiding most of her nudity. Occasionally, he reaches down with his metallic hand and caresses some part of her body in a proprietary manner. She shrinks back each time, but has learned long ago to remain silent. Talpa can do whatever he wishes to her, and she is powerless to stop him. He delights in her revulsion of him. It makes his revenge all the sweeter.
Nailed above the throne, are the skulls of our mentors, shining ivory in the dark room. Kayura, Dais, Cale, Sekhmet... Anubis. All are there.
Sometimes, I think of taking them down, but Talpa would be furious. It is not wise to risk his ire. I learned that, six years ago, when Loki scored my face with his axe, when a brand was placed to Akira's face, when Kenji's eye had been plucked out by Orochi... when Talpa had forced Ryoko to kill our families and our mentors. When she had to kill Anubis, she had lost most of her sanity. Being given to Loki as a spoil of war was the straw that had broken the camel's back. She is mad as a hatter now.
"Master Talpa, why are we here?" Hiroko asks in a weary voice. She sounds like she just wants to get this over with. We all do. All of us despise being in his abhorrent presence.
"There is another rebel uprising," Talpa says, petting Torai's auburn head like she is a puppy. The former Prophet cringes and bites her lip. "I want you to go destroy the fools."
Kenji glances down at the solid pine floor. "More upstarts?" he asks bitterly. "And how old are they? Seventeen? Eighteen?"
"Do you dare question me, Warlord of Air?" Talpa asks ominously. His hideous black pits of eyes fill with a burning red flame, making us all wince."THESE UPSTARTS CHALLENGE MY STRENGTH!! As you once did..." He murmurs, "Need I remind you what happened to Wildfire?"
I curse silently, hating how he uses my ‘Yoko as an example. I wish to do nothing more than rip his demonic head from his distasteful neck. "It will be done, Master," I say coldly. My subordinates stare at me in something akin to disgust. Damned hypocrites, they hate me for following Talpa's commands; yet they will do the same, and kill those young rebels. They are so young, they must be to be so idealistic. They actually think they can change the way things are now. It is impossible. The Dynasty cannot be stopped, I learned that the hard way.
"Yes... if it is your wish, Sire," Akira cedes, his violet eye turning hard as stone, as it was so often nowadays. Hiroko bows her head in surrender. Kenji just growls and spins on his heel, storming from the throne room. The sound of the heavy doors slamming follows him out.
Talpa does nothing to stop him, having become used to his moodiness. He knows Kenji will yield to his will.
"I gather we are dismissed then?" Hiroko asks quietly. I briefly reflect on how much our speech has changed, after six years among the Dark Warlords. No slang at all is used, we are nearly formal in our speech. I suppose it's just one of many examples of us leaving our old lives behind.
"You are dismissed," the evil entity concedes. How gracious of him. He is allowing us to leave his illustrious presence.
One by one, we each file from the throne room. Hiroko follows Akira, her lover, back to the room they share; I envy them their mutual love.
I stare after them for a bit, invidia eating away at my every pore. Why wouldn't my lady look upon me that way? As if I were the only think that made life worth living?
Not that you can call this living.
We'd be better off dead.
No, I think angrily as I stride down the hallway, we'd be better off if we had never been born! If our grandfathers had perished the last time Talpa had tried to take over the Mortal World!
"You're really going to do it." Kenji's voice freezes me in my tracks.
I slowly turn, an icy stare pasted upon my face. "Do what?"
Kenji's one blue eye bores into me with disgust. "You're going to let them be destroyed. Gods, they're only children! They can't possibly know what they're getting into–" He faltered, his words striking him hard.
"Just like we never fully understood what we were getting into, Strata?" He turns ghost white at the mention of his old name. "Best to end their miserable existence now, and save them a lot of suffering." I smile bitingly. "And ourselves a lot of trouble."
"You have a heart of ice," the Warlord of Air hisses in contempt.
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, Kenji," I say, arching a brow, "but who, praytell, was responsible for the burning of that camp of wounded elders, hmmm?"
"Those old geezers never would've survived the next few weeks, you know that!" he spits out. "I was only trying to spare them grief!"
"Call it what you will," I say, with a cold smirk, "but in the end, you are as much a Warlord as I."
He seems to deflate, and his blue eye goes flat and emotionless. "Perhaps you are right, maybe I am just as corrupt as those I once battled against." His one remaining eye glares into mine. "But at least I don't hide from the truth!"
Giving him a self-righteous smile, I say "You really must do something about that eye of yours. I do believe you may be losing the sight in that one as well!"
My jibe does not affect him in the slightest. "You know I speak the truth, you've just become too much of a coward to admit it."
I cease my brush past him as his words sink home. Satisfied he has gotten to me, Hashiba Kenji walks around me, a smug look on his marred face
Coward.
I make my way back to my room weakly, and sit down on my feather mattress. It was then I notice something is missing, but I put no more thought to it as I become lost in my thoughts. Have I changed so much in six years?
I know the answer.
Yes. The reckless Mouri Yoshio had died that day with his family, and he would never return. All hope is gone.
There is no hope for the others.
There is no hope for this world.
And there is no hope for myself.
We are all doomed.
Taking a deep breath, I allow these black revelations to recede back from whence they came, allowing the cold to freeze me once more.
To embrace my heart in ice.
As you may have guessed, I got to wondering... what would have happened if the New Generation had lost? And so spawned this hellish alternaverse. Please don't kill me, if you do, I'll never finish the REAL New Generation.
Well, was it gut-wrenching, depressing, or just mildly irritating? I know it's not quite 'Arc of Descent' material here.
I'd love to hear your opinions! You know where to reach me, oh dear readers of mine! newgenfan@hotmail.com is open around the clock! I look forward to hearing from you!
Sharra