Renewing the Choice


Three days later, as they were deep in their sparring, the two cats
became aware of a third presence, and as one, they ceased their
playfighting, and turned to face it warily. 

Both found they had to fight the urge, coming so strongly from their
cat-selves, to throw aside caution and care, and run to the figure and
lavish it with affection, an urge that they found harder to resist when
it stepped from the shadows, revealing itself as Fey, the one who had
freed them, the one they were pledged to.

Difficult as it was, it became entirely impossible when he suddenly
swelled, growing to just over ten feet, and becoming unmistakeably
feline. They darted down, and rubbed themselves against his sides,
purring wildly.

He chuckled softly and sank easily to sit between them. Moments later
he had two affectionate cats competing to place their heads in his lap
and receive his caresses.

He laughed lightly and gently petted his children and softly spoke to
them.

"I've been watching you two. You've done well, very well indeed, and you
are ready now for the next step." He sighed inwardly. He had considered
just showing Ranma how to achieve the next stage of the Neko-ken, by
making the transition as he had just done in front of them, but he was
afraid it would not be enough.

He needed more, he needed to completely remove the inevitable plateau
they would reach in their abilities. They needed to be able to increase
in power indefinitely, to match what was coming, and they needed to be
able to give that ability to their team members.

"As you know, there is a plateau that all people reach eventually. You
can only progress so far, no matter how hard you try." Ranma shuddered
at the thought, but nodded unhappily. He hated the thought of hitting
that limit, and being unable to progress further, but he knew it
existed. 

"That, unfortunately, cannot stand. No human has a plateau high enough
for what is coming, which is why the future is so dark." His darling
cats mewled in protest. Surely he had not misled them? He had implied
they could change what was coming.

"That is why I must take you past it. I . . . I have to ask you
something now, and it is with a heavy heart that I ask it." He dropped
the Neko-ken, falling back to his human form. "Go, drop the Neko-ken,
and return," he requested.

They smirked as they looked at each other, and as one, they dropped the
Neko-ken. Obviously, he had not been watching them closely enough, or he
would have seen that they had managed to synchronize that, and no longer
needed to be alone to drop the Neko-ken.

"Well, done," he said warmly, raising his hands, allowing them to sit up
and face him, careful not to notice Ranma's flush of embarrassment at
his behavior. "Now I must ask you. I made you promise, Ranma, to fight
for me. I have not yet asked this of you, Ranko. Ranma, I release you
from your promise." He silenced Ranma's attempted objections with a
raised hand. "For I must ask again, and I want nothing to make this
choice for you. You, and you alone, must make this choice." He sighed
again, audibly this time.

"I have not yet told you all about who I am. Ranma, Ranko . . . I . . .
am a god, a deity." He looked deeply into their eyes in turn, allowing
them to see his sincerity. "I must ask this of you, but please believe,
I do not ask this lightly, nor would I place this burden on you if it
were permitted for me to intervene more directly. I need my warriors to
be able to go beyond the limitations of humanity, to continue
progressing in power and skill as long as they live, that they may
continue to defend this world against what is coming, and what will
follow."

"For the darkness that is coming is but the first of many; if you
defeat it, there are things in the depths of space that will feel the
power you use, and come to this world, each bringing their own form of
darkness or light. And some will seek to conquer or destroy the world,
and there must be those who will stand to protect it. I cannot remain
here forever, and were I to defend this world, the things that would be
awakened by the feel of my power would be even farther beyond the 
ability of this world to survive than the coming darkness is."

"So, I ask that you, of your own free will, consent to become my
avatars, immortal channels for my power in this world." He held up a
hand to forestall a hasty reaction. "Please, do not act in haste.
Understand, if you accept this, it will mean that you will live forever.
You will not die until I return and release you. You will live forever,
and never know peace, for it will be your task for all time to defend
this world, to defend these people, even as you are forced to watch
those you love grow old and die, unable to defend them against death and
time. It is not an easy thing I ask of you, and it is more a curse than
a blessing."

"Still, it has its perks . . . I am a powerful god, and less bound by
the rules than some. I know of people here already, set here to defend
this world, who will live for all time. They are not enough to defend
against the coming darkness, but if you save the world, they shall live
in it with you, so that not all that you know will wither and die."

"I will leave you for two hours. You may discuss this together, or think
on it alone. I will expect an answer when I return, but please,
understand, I will not think the less of you if you choose against, nor
will you be condemning the world to darkness, for I shall then seek out
other champions, and I will still take you, together, to your mother
Ranma. This is a terrible decision for any to make, do not let fear make
it for you, in either direction."

With that, he vanished from their sight. He reappeared in the living
room of an apartment, and looked about himself. He reached out with his
senses, and finding Setsuna still in her bedroom, he walked to it, and
eased the door open. When he sat in the chair by her bedside, he was
pleased to see color returning to her face. He leaned over the bed, and
tapped her forehead, and her eyes flew open.

Her face went from startlement, to anger, to relief, to joy, and she
threw her arms around him, her emotionless mien destroyed by weeks of
tears at the Gates of Time. "Fey-sama, you came back!"

He sighed heavily, and she looked up at him in surprise. "What's wrong,
Fey-sama? Please, the future isn't dark again, is it?"

"The future is not yet written," Fey said firmly. "If you don't mind, I
would like to talk to you. I find I have need of counsel."

Setsuna was a bit startled at the thought that a kami would need her
advice, but sat up, basking in the warmth of his presence, the knowledge
that she hadn't dreamed the whole thing. He really was here, he really
had comforted her in her extremity of despair. Now she would be here for
him. Looking at his face, she realized that he looked deeply troubled. 

"I am not old enough to be doing this to them," he said, sighing deeply. 

"What? What is it you are doing?"

"I . . . to give my chosen the power to defeat that which is coming, and
that which will follow, I was only able to find one way. I will have to
do to them what was done to you and yours. I will have to bestow on them
the curse of immortality. Such a heavy burden, but only thus can I be
certain that their success would not be in vain. I have done all I could
to warn them of the dangers, and to ensure that they make this decision,
and don't allow their fear to make it, yet I cannot help but feel that
in time they will come to hate me for this."

Setsuna considered this, remembering how strongly her Princess had 
objected to being thrust into the role. She had wanted nothing more than
to live a normal life as a normal girl, once she had learned what it 
meant to be a magical girl, fighting to save the world.

"I don't think that they will, Fey-sama. Usagi, my Princess, objected,
once she became Sailor Moon, to the lack of a choice, and yet even she
has come to accept it. Your children are being given a choice, and that
will make the difference."

"You say she has come to accept it, yet she has not lived even long
enough to see her parents grow old and die. They may make the choice of
their own free will, but will it truly matter when they watch his mother
age and die?"

"Fey-sama, all of us have to watch our parents grow old and die before
us, unless they die of other causes, or we go before them. The true pain
is to come to love someone, and marry them, and watch them grow old and
die while you remain young and hale. Give your children the ability to
grant their mates a life as long as theirs, and you will go far to
appeasing them."

"That makes sense, I suppose. I'm expecting at the moment that they will
find that love in each other. I'm fairly certain that is her goal,
though whether she'll achieve it in spite of his obliviousness I don't
know."

"The hardest thing for me, Fey-sama, was the inability to take a break.
What if you were to give to them the ability to pass their powers on to
another, at least for a time? A way to allow someone to stand in for
them, to give them the occasional vacation?"

Fey nodded, thinking of the different ways he could accomplish such a
feat. Actually, it made sense in two different ways. If they could pass
on to another the ability to develop skill and power without limit, they
could build a team that would grow with them. That would make them more
effective, but wouldn't give them the ability to take vacations. As for
that, well, he could do as Setsuna suggested, or he could provide a way
that they could step outside of the timestream, vacation on another
world, and return to the moment they left. Unbroken vigilance from this
world's perspective, yet as much time off as they needed to stay healthy
and alert.

He thanked her for her time, noting as he rose that the crystal rose had
been placed in a vase on her bedside table, and he bid her goodbye,
vanishing a moment later.

---

Ranma and Ranko stared at each other in silence. Ranko thought of the
past several days, most of which had been spent in the Neko-ken. Ranma
had become steadily more demonstrative and affectionate, not running
away when she rubbed up against him, and occasionally clumsily returning
her kisses.

Still, she was uncertain whether she was really breaking through the
barriers his father had made. Was she really getting through to Ranma,
or was it just his cat spirit that was becoming enamored of her?

She still held out hope, but did she want to spend eternity with him, if
he chose someone else? She did not think immortality would be unbearable
if she had him, after all, she had been basically immortal in the pool.
True, it had not been pleasant, but she had survived, and hadn't gone
insane. Everyone else she had known was already dead, so she wouldn't
have to watch them die, and Ranma would be with her. The crux was that
she didn't think she could stand to work with him forever, knowing he
loved someone else, watching him pine for them after they died, wishing
she was the one he loved. Her decision would be easy if she just knew
how he felt, but would he be able to tell her?

Ranma shifted, looking at his hands. He thought of his mother, though he
could not picture her. She was really all he had now, other than his
father, and she would grow old and die no matter whether he did or no.

He considered Fey, his other-self, in some strange way he didn't
understand. The influence of the cat had lead Ranma to seek affection
from Fey, and instead of laughing at him, calling him a weak girl, or
just beating him, as his father would have done, Fey had complied,
responding with affection and comfort, and not commenting on Ranma's
discomfort after they all dropped the Neko-ken. 

Still, surprising as it had been to discover that Fey was willing to
offer emotional comfort, something Ranma had had far too little of in
his life, it was Ranko to whom thoughts of affection inevitably led him.

He looked up at Ranko, and sighed inwardly. He understood why his father
had kept him away from girls now. She was taking steadily more of his
thought, both waking and while asleep. He dreamed of her every night
now, and when he fought, sparred, and performed his katas, he found
himself picturing how she would perform the same move, or how she would
counter it.

She was his equal, she knew everything about the art that he did. She
was not as quick to improvise and respond with new moves . . . his
tactical skills in battle were still unmatched, but she knew magic, and
could teach it to him.

She didn't judge him, or see everything as his fault, as his father had
said girls did. Neither had she pressed him harder or faster than he was
willing to go. Indeed, after some of the glimpses he'd gotten, he found
himself dreaming of her showing him more, and wondering what it would be
like.

Without his father's influence, and without the pressure of being
chased, his interest had grown slowly but surely, and she had subtly
encouraged its growth.

Now he found that his vision of the future centered around her. Would
she be there with him? Would she want to stay with him? Did she really
like him, or was she following him just because he'd been the one to
save her, to choose her life over his father, and the life he'd known?

How do you ask a girl, he wondered, if she likes you? How do you tell
her you like her?

"Ranko," he said, hesitantly, "I . . . do you . . . ," he stammered, and
blushed, looking down. Damnit all, Oyagi, why'd you never teach me how
to talk to girls?

"Are you going to take his offer?" Ranko asked gently, trying to guide
him into saying whatever it was he was trying to get out.

"I . . . ," Ranma paused, looking scared, and ready to bolt, "will you .
. . do you . . ." He huffed and sat back, frustrated, then turned, and
looked away, so that he didn't have to see her. He focused, trying to
clear the confusion out of his mind. 

Maybe he was going about it the wrong way. He was trying to ask her how
she felt, but he couldn't figure how to word it right. Maybe he should
just say how he felt, and hope and pray she felt the same. He sent a
quick prayer to the kami, not even realizing the incongruity of praying
to the gods when he was trying to come up with an answer to give to a
kami in the first place.

"I . . . I think I want to, Ranko, but . . . but only if you're with
me," he said in a rush, and then blushed heavily, looking down, and
huddling in on himself. Man among men, he told himself, you're not
afraid, you're not afraid of nothing. But he was, he was terrified of
her answer, and he fought to keep tears from his eyes as his heart
clenched in his chest.

Ranko drew in a sharp breath in surprise. She wasn't expecting anything
that direct from him, not for a long time yet. She blessed Fey silently
for getting him away from his father, and scooted forward, putting a
hand on his shoulder. 

He jerked at her touch, breathing hard, feeling his guts tying
themselves in knots when she didn't speak, and slowly, he turned his
face to look at her, fighting to keep from crying. As soon as he faced
her, she cupped his face in her small hands, and kissed him hard. His
eyes popped wide, and he stiffened, then relaxed as his gut unknotted,
and his heart raced even faster. 

She pulled back, and he looked at her, eyes wide. "Does that . . . does
that mean you like me?" he asked, nervously, and she collapsed in
laughter, falling across his lap. 

"Yes," she gasped out between laughs, "yes, it does," she said, trying
to stop laughing, afraid that he'd take her laughter the wrong way. "I'm
sorry, I'm not laughing at you," she said, clutching at him to steady
herself. She sobered quickly. "I hate your father," she said flatly,
"for what he did to you, that you wouldn't even know what a kiss means.
I . . . I think I love you, Ranma. I know I want you. Do . . . do you
like me?"

"Yeah," he said softly, staring down at her bright blue eyes, her
delicate face framed by her flaming red hair, "yeah, I like you a lot. I
. . . now I know why my dad kept me away from girls," he continued,
looking up, and Ranko sat up, staring at him fearfully. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, afraid that he was going to say that his
father was right, and leave her.

He looked at her, and grinned, "'Cause he says a martial artist shouldn't
think of anything but the art, but I can't stop thinking of you."

Ranko gasped in delight and grabbed him tightly, kissing him and
crushing him against her. 

Ranko didn't push him to go any further. Instead, she told him to spread
his legs, then she sat between them, facing away from him, and leaned
back against his strong chest. After a minute of this, he got up and
repositioned himself with his back against a tree, and she resumed her
place.

"You know, Ranma," she said, "he asked both of us, but even if we get
really strong, what's going to happen if attacks occur far apart? I
think he's probably picking his leaders right now. I think he's going to
be adding more fighters later on."

"That makes sense," Ranma agreed. "Two people . . . you know, though,
he's never said what the coming darkness is. It could just be one or two
real strong monsters."

"Yeah, but remember, he said there would be more after that. And even if
this darkness is just one, who's to say the next one will be?"

"Oh . . . right. Sounds like we should plan on finding some support even
if he hasn't planned for it, huh?"

"I don't know," Ranko protested. "I trust him. If he doesn't want us to,
he'll have a good reason for it, I'm sure. I can't think what it would
be, which is why I think he must be planning for more."

"I wonder if they'll all be his avatars?"

Ranko frowned, her eyebrows coming together as her forehead crinkled
cutely. "I thought gods only had one avatar, but he offered it to both
of us . . . but if an avatar gets its power from a god, then wouldn't a
whole bunch of avatars be weaker? You know, each has access to less of
the god's power? I mean, his power can't be infinite, can it?"

"Who knows . . . he is a god . . . it might be."

"Well . . . hmm . . . what about your mother?," Ranko asked, shifting
topics, "will . . . do you think she'll accept me?"

"Heh, sorry, Ranko, I don't even know if she'll accept me. I can't even
really remember her," Ranma replied, sighing deeply as he tried once
again, and failed, to picture his mother.

"Sorry," said Ranko softly, mentally berating herself for dampening his
mood. "I'm sure she will."

A silence fell, uncomfortable at first, but as it continued, they both
relaxed. The tension eased, as they realized they had made their
decision, taken their risk, and been rewarded. Ranma shifted forward,
resting his chin on Ranko's head, enjoying the warmth of her body
against his. 

It had been a very long time since he'd been offered love or acceptance,
or even simple friendship, and now he had all three, as well as a
sparring partner that he could go all out against.

Ranko smiled when she felt his chin, and reaching back, grabbed his
hands, and pulled them to lie on her thighs, covering them with her own
hands. He turned his hands over, clasping her delicate hands in his
larger, stronger ones. She could hardly imagine being happier. He had
reached out to her, without the influence of the cat, and in spite of
his own fear, in spite of his father's training, he had made the first
move, he had opened himself up, and risked pain to tell her of his love.
She sighed happily.

They were still sitting there when Fey reappeared, and neither noticed
his approach, having fallen asleep. Fey was startled at their
appearance. Ranko's hands were still clasped in Ranma's. From the
stories and history he'd learned from Nabiki, he would have expected it
would take far longer before Ranma would be able to offer or accept
physical affection.

I wonder if it's not having the curse that made the difference, Fey
mused. Or it might be the absence of the constant pressure from his
father. I suppose having a girl kiss him as the prelude to a series of
murder attempts, followed by a girl offering friendship as the prelude
to a series of beatings might be sufficient to have created unpleasant
associations for physical affection in him. 

He smiled as he looked down at the pair, then a disturbing thought
occurred to him. They were heading for Ranma's mother's home. What if
she had also made engagements for her son over the years? Or what if she
was aware of the promise Soun and Genma had made, and insisted it be
upheld? His brow furrowed, as he pondered what effect these things might
have on Ranma.

It does not matter. I could try and force order onto the situation. I
could go to Nodoka before her son arrives, and prepare her, force her to
sign the same sort of contract Genma did, but I don't feel comfortable
being that manipulative. I'd rather act based on what I think is right,
and hope that the situation resolves itself. Who am I to claim that I
have more wisdom than he who created the universe?

Fey cleared his throat, startling Ranma from his slumber. His eyes
widened momentarily, as he realized the position he and Ranko were in,
then his face cleared. He had made his decision, and he would stand by
it, and her. He nodded at Fey, acknowledging his presence, then released
Ranko's hands, and gripping her shoulders, shook her lightly.

"Huh? Wha?" Ranko stirred, and murmured drowsily, until her eyes, slowly
coming into focus, latched onto the figure of Fey standing before them.
It was time. 

"Have you made your decision?" asked Fey, a soft smile on his face for
the apparent comfort they were taking in each other. From his knowledge
of Ranma from the world where he made Nabiki a dragon, he would have
expected that even after Ranma became able to show affection, he would
still react badly to being caught doing so in public. 

"We have," Ranma replied. "I will be your avatar, Fey-sama." Ranma
deliberately used the highest term of respect. If he was to be Fey's
avatar, then he must first accept that Fey was a kami. Arrogant though
Ranma was, by his father's hand, he could not deny the power he felt in
Fey. Besides, if it weren't for Fey, he would probably be in a heap of
trouble with Genma, and still turning into a girl half the time, and
most importantly, he would never have met Ranko, never have learned how
good it could feel to just hold her.

"As will I," Ranko said, looking up, eyes shining with happiness.
Because of Fey, she had been freed from her prison, returned to life,
and found the man of her dreams, as well as gained unbelievable skill in
the martial arts, without losing her magic. For him, she would do
whatever he asked of her . . . except give up Ranma.

"Very well," said Fey, a serious look banishing the smile from his face.
"Stand and face me." As they stood, he drew forth Dragon Fang, the
dagger's edge glinting golden in the light of the sun, and changed its
form to that of a golden chalice. 

He released it and the glittering cup hung in the air where he left it,
as if gravity had no hold upon it. He raised his left wrist above the
chalice, and extending the fingernail of his right forefinger, he
slashed his wrist, allowing his blood to flow into the chalice, as the
two teenagers watched, wide-eyed.

When the chalice was nearly full, a soft white glow flared about the cut
on his wrist, and it closed, stopping the flow of blood. Lowering the
chalice slightly, so that he could easily look into the waters, he began
gently weaving his magic into it. He did this very slowly, for the magic
that he wished to create was grand and powerful, yet it was important
that none of the interested parties should feel the casting, other than
the two standing before him.

He extended his senses into the chalice, focusing the threads of magic,
and slowly crafting an intricate web. The blood itself served as the
channel for his power, that would link them to himself, making them his
avatars and allowing them to draw on his power, and to act as a channel
for his magic, that he might cast through them. Beyond and around that,
he wove regenerative links, that their health, ki, and magic might be
replenished more swiftly through their link to him. 

He slipped in a pair of triggers that would allow them to take on the
greater Neko-ken forms even if they failed at mastering the ki
technique to reach them. He himself was unsure whether the forms were
reachable with only ki without having first used magic to forge the
path, since he was the only example he had to go on and he had used
magic to first effect the transformation.

Even more carefully, he wove the magic that would change them
permanently, raising them from the levels of pure mortals, to the level
of dragons, pheonix, and kirin, that they might increase their power
without arbitrary limit. Using the beings that were normally expected to
defeat Cell as a template, he gave them Saiyajin like power growth, that
they might increase in power both from battles, and even more from
near-death beatings.

More carefully still, he followed the template used by a number of evil
gods, being extremely cautious to avoid that which would darken their
souls, and wove in the ability to pass on their powers, though not their
skill nor experience, through a bite and the drinking of blood. He
ensured that the bitten would not be mentally controlled, as most
templates called for, and as an extra precaution, set it up so that they
could revoke the granted powers with a simple physical contact of any
kind, as well as granting them the ability to choose and control which
powers were passed on.

He did nothing to suppress the dragon in his blood, not knowing if nor
how the dragon blood, when taken orally, would affect them. That he
left to chance, remembering that he had been chosen for this task, the
God of Chaos, and thus allowing that spark of the unknown to balance the
carefully ordered spells he had employed. 

Ranko and Ranma watched the proceedings with interest. Ranma was feeling
a certain degree of excitement and tension, knowing what was about to
happen, and feeling a little queasy about the thought that Fey obviously
intended for them to drink his blood, after he was finished doing
whatever he was doing. Ranma could sense that Fey was doing something
with his ki, but couldn't really tell what it was.

Ranko on the other hand could sense both magic and ki, and she was in
awe of the delicacy of Fey's power. Her own magic, being largely battle
magic, was far less precise and controlled. The fact that he was using
his ki to manipulate the magic he was slowly and carefully building up
was not lost on her, as she pondered how he was accomplishing it. For
her, ki and magic had always been two completely separate things, and
she had never been able to manifest a proper battle aura, though her
magic aura, when manifested properly, could be plenty intimidating. To
see him so gracefully combining the two sent thoughts spiralling through
her mind, as she pondered what she might be able to accomplish, now that
she had significant reserves of both ki and magic. 

Fey finished the last step, transmuting the taste, though not the
substance, into that of the juice of cherries. Not wanting to cause any
complications regarding quantity, he summoned a second golden chalice,
and magically divided the liquid into the two containers, then handed
one chalice to Ranma, and one to Ranko. 

"Drink, if you are firm in your intent to become my avatars."

Ranma and Ranko accepted the chalices, and looking at each other,
nodded. Suppressing their nervousness, and with their eyes fixed on one
another, they lifted the chalices to their lips, paused, and then drank.

Ranma drank quickly, to avoid tasting Fey's blood any longer than he had
to, and noticed only after he had swallowed the entire chalice-full,
that the lingering aftertaste was not at all unpleasant.

Ranko sipped at first, wary of the taste of blood, but when, instead of
the coppery taste of the iron in his blood, she tasted sweet cherries,
she drank deeply, but slowly, relishing in the warm, sweet, thick liquid
as she imbibed it, feeling the warmth of it spreading through her.

Both noticed, moments after beginning to drink, a warmth spreading from
their stomachs, suffusing their chests, and rolling down their limbs,
filling their bodies with a gentle heat. Moments after they finished the
last of the blood, the warmth in their centers seemed to ignite, sending
fire racing through them. For just a moment, their skin seemed to take
on a golden tinge, and their eyes glowed, then it faded, and the fire
settled into a comfortable warmth in their chests.

"It is done," proclaimed Fey. He strode past them, and settled to the
ground, leaning against the tree where Ranma had been. "Sit, my avatars,
and I will teach you."

The chalices vanished, to their mutual startlement, but his voice drew
them, and they sat at his feet. 

"First, I want to reassure you, Ranma. You have gained no great power.
Most of what was done was simply to remove the barriers to your growth.
You will heal faster, and regain your ki faster, but your reserves have
probably not grown significantly."

Ranma nodded, smiling slightly. He had not wanted to admit it to Fey,
who had done so much for him, nor had he desired to seem ungrateful, but
the idea of simply being granted power that he had neither earned nor
worked for, was troubling to him. He felt better for knowing that the
skills and power he had, he had fought and trained for. He could no
longer speak of it, lest he hurt Ranko, for she had simply been given
all the skills and ki he had gone through so much to attain. Yet he did
not begrudge her them, for she too had skills that she had gone through
great struggle to obtain, her magic, and so she knew what it was to work
hard for something.

Still, he disliked the thought of being granted power that he did not
earn, for it called up for him the image of someone defeating him with
power they were given, but had never worked for, rendering useless and
pointless all the terrible ordeals he had gone through. 

He was glad that in spite of his not having said anything about it, Fey
had perceived and addressed that concern, once again emphasizing the
difference between his old master, his ill-begotten father, and his new
master, for Genma would never have bothered worrying about how Ranma
felt about anything.

"Thank you," he said quietly. 

Fey looked at Ranko then. "You too shall find that your ki, as well as
your magic, is recovered faster, and that you will heal much faster than
you are used to without needing magic."

"Now, there is a connection between you and me, and I am a God. There is
therefore now a second class of magic open to you. Your magic comes from
within, shaped by your will, as with your ki. This second form of magic
is not shaped by your will, but by your mind, for you do not cast it."

"From the perspective of most religions, I suppose, you would call these 
'miracles,' and you cast it by praying, but understand, I am not
requiring that you worship me. I do not desire that. Do not think of it 
as prayer, but simply as communication, for that is all it is. Because
of the link between us, you can form in your mind an effect you desire, 
and call upon me to make it happen. Only with experience will you learn 
the limits of this, and it has its dangers. The magic is given form by
your own intention and mental image, so if you do not focus
sufficiently, the effect may be far from what you desired."

"Theoretically, it is very open-ended. There are no pre-determined
effects, you can cause any effect at any time, subject to my own
limitations, and the limit of your imagination and focus. In practice,
it is probably best to think of it as katas, though, and to develop
them through practice, until your mental pictures are clear and
instant, and the effect precise."

He glanced at Ranma. "Though you have little experience in magic, Ranma,
this is available to you as well. Think of it as a kata . . . to draw on
my power, you must craft a new form, and practice it until you have it
perfect, and that effort is the price you pay for the power." Fey knew
Ranma would not like, at least at first, the thought of simply casting
spells by telling Fey what effect he wanted, but hopefully, by thinking
of them as mental katas, he would be willing to try.

Fey turned his attention back to Ranko. "Try something for us, Ranko,
something simple."

Ranko nodded, and focused in her mind. Something simple, hmm. The
simplest spell I know is light. She cleared her mind, and pictured her
hand, with a sphere of light about four inches in diameter above it,
giving off as much illumination as a large candle, that could be moved
and positioned by simple thought. With this image strongly in her mind,
she spoke aloud, some of the words coming as if by instinct. "I call on
thee. Lord Fey, grant me Light!"

She felt a slight surge of power, and a sphere of white flared above her
outstretched hand. "Cool," Ranma said, looking at the sphere, wondering
if it looked anything like a ki attack would. 

She glanced at him. "You try it, Ranma."

He looked a little bit dubious, but closed his eyes, and pictured light.
Not anything specific, just white light, and then repeated her words.
They were all blinded by a brilliant flash, as if lightning had struck.
Fey chuckled softly, and Ranko teased Ranma for a minute, then grew
serious again.

"I see what you mean about focus. Ranma, what did you picture?"

"Just light," Ranma replied. 

Fey grinned. "Keep it in your repetoire, Ranma, it could be useful in a
fight, but I'd call it Flash or something like that."

Ranko sighed. "Close your eyes, and focus. I'm going to try and guide
your imagination."

Ranma closed his eyes, and cleared his mind. "Ready," he said.

"Picture yourself, sitting where you are. Can you see yourself?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Ok, now, picture a red sphere above your outstretched hand. It is warm,
about the warmth of your skin, and know, don't picture it, just know,
that if something touches it, it will cause it to catch on fire as if it
were a torch. Now, picture it moving when you want it to. Make it float
up above your head, then away from you. Now, holding that picture in
your mind, cast it."

"Uhm... Lord Fey, gimme a Torch," said Ranma. He popped his eyes open,
and boggled at the warm ball of red light. Ranko giggled at his uncouth
prayer, but said nothing, since it had apparently worked. Ranma reached
out towards it, then pulled back, feeling the heat intensify when his
fingers approached it. 

Fey picked up a small branch, and poked the light, then pulled the
branch back, showing that it was darkened, and slightly charred at the
very tip. He put it back in, and left it for a moment, then pulled it
out. It wasn't burning, but the tip was glowing red, though fading
quickly. 

"Very good," he said. "Now, just for your information, I should inform
you that this is heavenly magic that you are drawing on at the moment.
That means that attack spells using this magic will be more effective
against truly evil beings, like demons, than spirit attacks, or your own
magic."

"However, being the God of Balance, I have equal access to demonic
energies, and if you concentrate and focus on that, you can cast spells
using that energy the same way."

Ranko wrinkled her brow, looking confused. "Why would we want to cast
demonic spells?"

"Well," Fey responded, smiling slightly at her puzzled look, "I don't
know of any particular reason, though its best to be aware of all of
your abilities. There is one example I can think of though. You will
both need the experience of fighting against opponents stronger than
yourselves to increase your skills. Well, there is a simple solution to
that . . . I am going to show you how to transform, as I have done once
before. If one of you fights normally, and the other fights in the
stronger form, and trade off, you can manage constant improvement, since
your power when transformed is linked to your normal power, and
increases with it. However, you also need experience fighting together,
and against multiple opponents."

"The simplest solution to this problem is to summon demons. They are
thoroughly evil, and even if you completely destroy them, all you've
really done is banish them back to where they came from, so you haven't
got to feel angst about killing, because you haven't. Summon demons, and
you'll have as many opponents as you need, that you can go all out
against."

Ranma perked up at that description. He had enjoyed sparring with Ranko,
but he knew that if they were to be effective against whatever it was
they had to fight, they would have to be able to fight together. He
certainly wouldn't object to having some truly strong opponents for a
change, either.

"That makes sense, I guess," said Ranko, a bit dubious at the thought of
fighting real demons just to practice.

"Also, demons prefer to conceal their presence from gods and other good
beings, so demonic magic works better at detecting other demons."

Fey rose easily to his feet. "Now, I'm going to demonstrate the
Neko-ken transformations. Embrace the cat, and then focus your ki
senses on me."

When they were both in the Neko state, he drew up his aura, embracing
the Neko-ken slowly, allowing them to observe each step, as he
progressed through the mental focusing of his ki, and triggered the
transformation, growing taller, and filling out, as fur sprouted from
his skin.

To their mutual surprise, he then embraced the Neko-ken again, repeating
the steps, and swelled into a fifteen foot tall half-dragon, massively
muscled, with scales, horns, and powerful claws, and two huge wings.

Ranma moved to begin the mental kata, but Fey held up a hand. "Wait, or
you'll ruin your clothes." Fey drew from the air two rings, and handed
them over. "These rings will cause whatever clothing you are wearing to
shift with you, growing to match you in the half forms, and vanishing in
the full forms. I've shown you the half-forms, now for the full..."

He released the Neko-ken, then drew it up again, and dropped to all
fours, surrounded by the solidity of his tiger shaped aura, hands and
feet not quite reaching the ground, then proceeded through the mental
kata again, becoming a massive twelve foot long tiger. His aura flared
about him again, and he swelled, growing into a thirty foot long
oriental dragon. The full Neko-ken dragon form was far smaller than his
own true draconic form, but was still impressive.

Banishing the Neko-ken again, he shrank rapidly, then stood. "I shall
leave you now," he said, "but remember what I said. To grow in power you
must fight against opponents stronger than yourself. The easiest way at
hand, is for one of you to take on a Neko-form, and spar. Eventually,
though, you must find a way to fight together, all-out, against multiple
enemies." With those parting words, Fey vanished.

Ranma turned to face Ranko, grinning. "Well, I guess we oughta start
working on that changing thing huh?"

"Yes, we should work on the transformations," she agreed, emphasizing
the proper word choice. He grimaced, and stuck his tongue out at her, to
which she giggled. "Well, here goes nothing . . ."

Ranko tried to run through the kata in her mind, to effect the
transformation, but felt no different when she finished. Glancing down,
she realized that it was not an unnoticed transformation. She simply
hadn't changed at all. 

She glanced at Ranma, focusing her ki senses, as he was working through
his try. For him as well, nothing happened. For the next half-hour,
Ranko and Ranma spent their time trying, unsuccessfully, to accomplish
the transition. Fey sighed, watching the failure. He had hoped to
determine that it was possible through ki alone, but it wasn't working
out. He still wasn't sure that it was impossible, but he didn't want his
charges to become too frustrated.

He appeared before Ranma, startling him out of his latest attempt, and
turned to catch Ranko's attention. "I anticipated this impasse," he told
them, smiling to reassure them that he was not irritated at their lack
of progress, "and while I want you to continue to try, occasionally, to
make the change solely with ki, I have given you a magic trigger that
will effect the change. Picture in your mind yourself transforming into
your hybrid tiger form, and say 'Transform.'"

Ranma looked a bit disgruntled. "We don' gotta pose and shout it, do
we?" He hadn't been exposed to much culture, but he had managed to read
the occasional manga, and the thought of having to spout silly speeches
and shout out transformations phrases was disquieting.

Fey grinned. "Not at all, feel free to mutter it under your breath if
you like. It's just a trigger, and hopefully, in time, you'll be able to
do it just by focusing your ki."

Ranko was not as self-conscious as Ranma, having never seen any sentai
shows, or read manga, and while Ranma was complaining, she tried to
picture herself growing fur, and getting taller, and said calmly,
"Transform."

Ranma nodded at Fey, then glanced at Ranko, and his eyes bulged. She
looked hot! She was about seven and a half feet tall, sleek, powerful,
built. Her fur was a dark reddish-brown with black stripes. She grinned
at his reaction, baring feral teeth, her whiskers twitching as she tried
to get used to the peculiar sensitivity of the addition to her face.

Ranma pictured himself looking like Fey, and muttered the word. Ranko's
eyes sparkled, and her heart raced, as Ranma swelled to almost nine
feet, muscles gaining mass and definition. His fur was a deep
black-striped gold. Fey noted with some surprise that where Ranko's
transformation matched his own fairly closely, Ranma's had a significant
difference. It seemed odd, since Ranma should have had a model to work
off of, while Ranko would have been less able to use Fey as a model.
Nonetheless, the difference was clear. Ranma's legs were strangely
shaped, as if he had a second, backward facing knee. 

Fey realized the implication. Due to Ranma's experiences with the full
Neko-ken, he was embracing it more deeply than Ranko or Fey did,
resulting in more cat-like characteristics. 

"You should, with practice," he commented, "be able to adjust the depth
of the transformation, from nearly human, to full-tiger, rather than
just the half-form. You can see a hint of this if you compare your
legs." Ranma seemed to notice his legs for the first time. 

"Wha? What happened?"

"Just a deeper Neko-ken, Ranma, nothing to be concerned about. In fact,
the leg structure is one place you might want to consciously focus on.
Your form, Ranko, is better for strength and power, while yours, Ranma,
is better for speed and agility. Bit of a flip for you two, isn't it?"

Fey grinned at them. "See you later. Don't forget what I said about
practicing." He vanished again, but as he was vanishing, his head cocked
to the side, as he sensed something probing the vicinity, and realized
that his earlier magic had been detected by something. He locked onto
the source of the scan, and appeared some distance from it.

---

Tenchi sat at the table wondering what was going wrong. He wasn't sure
where they came from, but almost a week before, he'd started having dark
dreams, though he never recalled after waking what the content had been,
remembering only that they had been dark and frightening. 

He had tried not to let it affect him, but he had watched his family
more closely, to see if any of those around him were being similarly
affected. To his continued pain, he had detected signs of strains on the
delicate face of the most innocent among them, little Sasami. 

When he had gently tried to speak to her of it, all she had been able to
tell him was that it felt like everything was darker than it had been
before, like she was seeing the world through a veil. 

That had been bad enough, but several days later, Washu had suddenly
become terribly excited about something. The self-proclaimed greatest
genius scientist in the universe soon grew irritable. She was
frustrated, though at what he did not know, but she was getting to be
dangerous to be around. Around the same time, the feeling of darkness
had eased, according to Sasami, and his dreams had lightened, but with
Washu on edge, it seemed no improvement.

Right now she sat across the table from him, tapping frantically on the
transparent terminal that floated in front of her, and he was trying to
sit very still, like a rabbit hiding from a fox, hoping to avoid
catching her attention.

He groaned inwardly when he felt soft arms with a deep core of strength
slide around his neck. Ryouko . . . and in a moment, Ayeka would erupt
in anger, catching Washu's attention, and drawing it to him. 

Before that could happen, Washu suddenly sprang up, excited, and
shouted, "Finally! He's here!"

Ryouko looked up at her mother, peeved at the interruption. "Who's
here?"

"I've been trying to track him for days," Washu said, capering about
like the young girl she appeared to be, "just a little while ago I
detected a large discharge of energy in China, and I probed it as deeply
as I could, and I caught his attention! He's coming here!"

"Washu-chan," said Ayeka, primly, sitting straight and trying to face
Washu, a difficult task with her constant leaping and bouncing, "who
exactly is he?"

"I don't know!" Washu cried out happily. "But he's my new guinea pig!"
She laughed evilly, and everyone shuddered. 

"That is probably not a good idea," commented Katsuhito from the
doorway, light glinting from the flat planes of his rectangular glasses.

Ryouko suddenly jerked straight, causing Tenchi to glance back at her.
He was startled at the look of concern on her beautiful features. "I . .
. I can feel him," she whispered. 

Tenchi felt it then, and clearly, so did the other people in the room, a
sense of power and danger. They turned as one towards the door, where
Katsuhito stood.

He stepped inside, and walking to stand by Sasami, turned to face the
doorway with everyone else. The feeling intensified, and a shiver ran
down Tenchi's spine. Washu was vibrating with excitement. Everyone else
was nervous, except Sasami, who looked frightened, and Katsuhito, who
seemed perfectly calm and composed.

Ayeka snorted indelicately. "It hardly matters, it's not as if he could
be a match for Tenchi, anyway."

Ryouko shook her head slowly, wanting to agree, but knowing it wasn't
true. Katsuhito sighed. "This one, I feel, is far more powerful than
Tenchi is, at least at this time."

Everyone jerked in surprise, eyes popping wide, when Noboyuki appeared
in the doorway, laden with his briefcase, and a number of rolled sheets
of architechural drawings. "What?" he asked nervously, seeing that
everyone was staring at him, then shivered, as he felt the hairs on the
back of his neck rise up.

The wave of relief that had rolled over the group when Noboyuki stepped
in disappeared, replaced by an almost painful tension, as Noboyuki
took a single step forward, and turned, just slightly. He was afraid to
look behind him, feeling like some poor schmuck in a horror movie, about
to spin around only to be killed in a horrific fashion.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Noboyuki was still in a position to
prevent them from seeing what was behind him. Tenchi was in a terror for
his father, and tried to run to him, but Ryouko held him back, feeling
in her bones that Tenchi could do nothing against that which stood
beyond his father. 

Sasami burst into tears from the tension as Noboyuki completed his slow
dramatic turn, and Katsuhito knelt behind her, and hugged her
comfortingly. 

"What? Oh, yes, of course, please come inside," said Noboyuki, and
everyone let out a sigh of relief. Noboyuki led their visitor inside,
giving the others their first look at him. Dressed in black silks, he
was muscular, but not exaggeratedly so, more like an athlete than a
body-builder. Those who were skilled in the martial arts immediately
noticed that he moved like a master, in flowing motions that seemed to
speak of minimalism, as if he never had to put extra effort into
accomplishing anything.

He stepped into the house, discarding his shoes by the door, and swept
his gaze across the assemblage. He arched an eyebrow at Sasami and
Katsuhito, before continuing. He cast an appraising eye at Tenchi and
Ryouko, acknowledged Ayeka, then snapped his gaze back to Washu, who had
caught her breath at the sight of the three tattoos on his face.

"Local kami," she thought, "damn, I hope I haven't done anything to warrant
their official attention."

He strode forward, everyone watching as if frozen, to stand before
Washu, looking down at her. "You sought my attention. You have it."

"I . . . ," Washu began, blushing softly. Did he have to look so damned
handsome? "I detected your activities a few days ago, but I couldn't
track you . . ."

He nodded, as if that was all that was needed to explain her actions,
and cast his gaze around, then back to Katsuhito. "You, I know . . . and
that . . . would make you Masaki Tenchi," he said, turning to face
Tenchi.

Ryouko snarled, moving in front of Tenchi, and igniting her sword. "What
do you want with Tenchi?" she growled. 

He sighed softly. "As a young child, I came to the Masaki shrine, where
Katsuhito taught me to wield my sword. I knew Tenchi as a friend."

Katsuhito frowned. Why would he tell such a transparent lie? Tenchi
looked at the man curiously. "I don't remember that," he said,
nervously.

The man laughed softly. "Of course not, Tenchi. It never happened. Not
here. I am from a different dimension. Nevertheless, I was trained by
Katsuhito, and I knew you. Because of that relationship, I will spare
some time to explain to you what has been going on."

"You have been feeling darkness," he continued, looking at Tenchi, and
casting glances at Washu and Sasami. "That is because until I came, this
world's future was nothing but darkness, no matter the path, due to the
intervention of a powerful malevolent entity. I am not permitted to
oppose this entity directly. However, I have been permitted to intervene
in minor ways. I have chosen a pair of champions, and I have been
training them. That is what you detected, Washu."

He turned slowly, looking at Tenchi and Ryouko, then glancing at
Katsuhito. "Your future has never been as dark as the planet's, for you
can escape, where most people cannot. That is why you were not more
strongly affected. Yet, even knowing that this darkness is not coming
for you, I would ask that you consider aiding me."

Katsuhito smiled slowly. "What is it you would ask, young man?"

He bowed to the older man. "Training, and sparring. My champions need
training with weapons, for they will face foes it is death to touch, and
they will need sparring partners to keep their skills up, and keep them
from stagnating by facing predictable opponents. Grant me this, and I
will ensure that all of you make it safely off the planet should the
darkness overwhelm."

When Katsuhito nodded, he bowed again. "Thank you. Now I must take my
leave of you." With that, he vanished. 

"That was weird," commented Tenchi. "Usually, when someone that strong
shows up, we end up fighting, or getting kidnapped, or something."