Waters Under Earth A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum -harnums@thekeep.org -harnums@hotmail.com (old/backup) All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North America by Viz Communications. Waters Under Earth at Transpacific Fanfiction: http://www.thekeep.org/~mike/transp.html Epilogue : Riverrun INTRODUCTION As I can begin at neither the beginning nor the end, I will begin with the passing of my father, as told to me by his friend, Ryoga Hibiki. I cannot tell it as I myself experienced it, as I was not yet born at the time it occurred, and had, in fact, been conceived only a few hours earlier. To begin the history of a man's life with the facts of his passing may seem inappropriate, but the story began for me when I grew old enough to understand the existence of fathers, and inquire as to where mine was. The common answer, from those who knew him, was: he passed away. Never died, because, of course, there was no body. As Ryoga tells it, there could not be one, and I do not think he would lie about such a thing. Nevertheless, I cannot say, and neither could he, that his account is entirely accurate - such events tend to transform themselves within the mind, and, no doubt by recording it as I have here, this account shall spawn an infinitude of permutations, for stories pass into history, into legend, into myth, and finally into amnesia - only to become stories again. My father's story was one of new clothes from old threads. Such is the conundrum of the river, ever changing, ever the same. As Ryoga tells it, after a long and untraceable passage through the tunnels beneath Mount Phoenix (1), he entered a high-ceilinged cavern that appeared to have undergone a recent earthquake, for it was heavily littered with rubble apparently freshly fallen from the ceiling. In places high above his head, a violet light that he described to me as both "alien" and "cold" poured down, illuminating the cavern and making the small lantern he had brought with him unnecessary. The following is a transcription of a verbal description of what occured next, given to me by Ryoga shortly before his own death: It was so big I didn't see him right away. He was in the dead centre of the cavern, and even though I had to pick my way over all that rubble to get to him, once I got within about ten feet, there wasn't any at all... there was a clear circle all around him, and I saw why when I got closer, because it was all full of water, like a moat, so dark that I almost stepped right into it without seeing it. I only saw it because it was moving, very slowly, in a circle, like there were tides driving it from far beneath the surface. I couldn't see any bottom, maybe because it was so dark, maybe because there wasn't any bottom. Your father... Ranma, he was already dying when I got there. I saw right away there wasn't anything I could do, he was just hurt too bad. (2) I jumped the water, since I didn't think it would be a good idea to touch it, and knelt down by him. His breathing was getting slower and slower, but I somehow had the sense that he would keep on breathing forever if something didn't change. Something was making him stay here - in hindsight, I think it was your mother, or you, or maybe he just didn't believe everyone would be safe without him - he was clinging somehow... and that wasn't right. I knew that wasn't right. If he hadn't spoken, I don't know what I would have done. It was like there was someone else inside me, another body, getting ready to lift my arm, and... well, anyway, he spoke, so it doesn't matter. Didn't open his eyes, just said my name. I said his back; I felt the sense of wrongness leave me. He said, "Did I win?", and, even though I didn't know what he was talking about - although I do now, I think - I said, "Yes, everything's all right now." It was like that other body had become another voice, using me, but it was my voice at the same time. I'll always remember how he smiled. It was like he wasn't in any pain at all, even though I could see how bad he was hurt just by looking at his body. "Good," he said. "Watch over them." He meant you and your mother, I think, and his mother... maybe everyone. That's what I've tried to do, though, because I promised him I would. As Ryoga relates it, after he had made his promise to my father (3), the circling water that surrounded them began to grow, to change; he had the sense, impossible though it seemed, that it was remaining a circle while becoming a straight line. (4) The water spread out, consuming the rubble, consuming the cavern itself, until he and my father were upon a tiny island in a great rushing flow. Ryoga could see no ceiling or walls any more; there was light coming from the water, a light he described as absolutely bright and pure, which must have made the appearance of the black boat all the more startling. As Ryoga described it, the boat became visible first as a black speck at the edge of the horizon, and travelled fast enough that he was clearly able to distinguish details within a minute. It was long, and draped all in tattered black cloth that fluttered like banners. Two women, dressed in gold and green, sat in the bows; a third, dressed in black, stood in the stern and drove the barge with a long pole. Even from a distance, Ryoga could see how beautiful they were; he always described them as the most perfect women he had ever seen (5), although never in front of his wife. The boat pulled up smoothly beside the island where Ranma lay, and the two women in the bows rose from their seats. With their hands, they beckoned Ryoga to lift Ranma into the boat. None of them spoke the entire time, and Ryoga tells me that he felt no need to speak either. Once Ranma was placed upon the flat bottom of the boat, Ryoga describes the following as happening: The one in green touched her hands to his body, and his wounds stopped bleeding. The one in gold touched her hands to the rags of his clothing, and they became whole again. The one in black put her pole back into the waters, and pushed off. I watched the boat recede into the distance, waving goodbye until it was out of sight. A lot of people have questioned why I didn't say anything; why I didn't try to take Ranma back, after the one in green healed him. I can only say that the thought never crossed my mind at the time. (6) Once they were gone, I sat down, and then saw that two broken pieces of wood, apparently once a single piece, had lain beneath Ranma. I took them up, and they were warm in my hands. I cast them into the ebb and flow of that great river that was all around me, which I have come to believe was the River of Time, and, at that, the waters began slowly to recede. I waited for them to do so, and then set out to find my way back. This, then, is the end of my father's story as I can tell it. And, so, from the end, I shall go back to the beginning, the real beginning of my father's story. *** Footnotes to Introduction (1) Incidental research during the compilation of this history over the past twenty years has established that these tunnels are, in all likelihood, the remnants of a colony of the First Ones. Archaeological evidence is inconclusive as to whether they were of Pan Qu's tribe, or of the one they call only the Queen. I am indebted to Lougui of the line of Mengyua for nearly all of the information on the First Ones throughout this work. (2) As I cannot ascertain just how badly my father was hurt from my conversations with Ryoga, I cannot say whether anyone, even someone with training in the healing arts, could have helped him. Had healing him been possible within this world, I believe that someone other than Ryoga would have been called to his side. Whether my belief is justified, I cannot say with certainty. There are patterns to these things, and the Lady (Ladies?) is/are bound to them in ways I cannot yet comprehend. (3) While this history can only concern itself with Ryoga's character to the extent that it intersects my father's life, I will state that I believe this promise to my father shaped his life from that point onwards, and accounted for the actions he undertook during war against Shen Bai-Gu that led to his death. With the final publication of this history of my father's life, I can now undertake to write a history of the war against Shen Bai-Gu, focusing especially upon Ryoga's prominent role within it. (4) This perception might well have been entirely true from Ryoga's point of view; in the same way that a sphere of enormous size (such as our planet) appears flat to an observer, a circle of enormous size (a great river, sourced by its own self) could appear as a straight line to an observer unable to see the whole of it. (5) That each of the three is described as perfectly beautiful is, I believe, good evidence for a synonymous nature. This is not hardly unique to their aspects as detailed here; see, for example, the Maiden-Mother-Crone aspects of the lunar goddess among the ancient Celts. (6) I do not think it would have been possible, either. Ryoga was needed to pass Ranma from this world into the one from which the boat came - the world in which his wounds could be healed. The parallels to the Arthurian legends should be obvious to any schooled in basic mythology. Arthur says to Bedivere, in Chapter VI of Book 21 of Le Morte Darthur (Malory), "Comfort thyself... and do as well as thou mayst, for in me is no trust for to trust in; for I will into the vale of Avilion to heal me of my grievous wound..." *** CHAPTER 1 Once upon a time, there was a mighty and terrible king, and he had three beautiful daughters... FIN WATERS UNDER EARTH ********** Author's Notes: I suppose after nearly two years, forty chapters, five vignettes, a prelude and an epilogue, these are more or less obligatory. I had originally intended (and, had, to an extent, prepared) a lengthly annotation of all the parts of the series, pointing out certain undercurrents or symbols within the narrative that might not have been immediately obvious. Over time, however, my view of what role an author should take in interpreting his or her own work has changed significantly, and I have lost the desire to do so. Waters Under Earth sprang primarily from my deep interest in comparative mythologies, a topic so eloquently detailed in the works of Joseph Campbell. I have consciously followed his Hero's Path, which, like so many other things in WUE, is ultimately circular in nature. There is a lot of mythology - Japanese, Chinese, Norse and Celtic, to name some of them - in WUE, and, also, many homages to fantasy literature, particularly the works of Guy Gavriel Kay. The original genesis lay in my idle attempts, one day, to come up with various explanations for the unexplained things in the Ranma series: How does Jusendo cause the magic of Jusenkyou? Why does the body of the Orochi create the healing water? How did Saffron come into being? What links exist between the various peoples who live in the area around Jusenkyou? There's much more to the story than just answering those questions, but the story really began for me with an image of a dragon lying bound beneath Jusendo, suffusing the waters with the magic of her blood. Nearly two years ago, at the end of "The Dying of the Light", I wrote in my author's notes that I didn't expect to write a fanfic that big again. I was, of course, wrong. I hope I'm not wrong this time in saying that I hope no project becomes so big and unwieldly as WUE, because, despite my fondness for much of it, there are a lot of flaws in it. It's too big by half, and a lot of the subplots and characters are unecessary to the central story. To an extent, this is unavoidable in a serial work spanning two years - some things I'd intended to do at the beginning, and had laid groundwork for, simply became unworkable as the story progressed. However, my laziness in planning the story (my planning notes for the original draft fit on half a sheet of lined paper) is also responsible for the occasionally incoherent and rambling nature of the story. Still, there are good things in it, and there are passages that I consider to be the best writing I've ever done. It is ultimately a work that I'm pleased with, even if there are things I would do differently in hindsight. Had I the time and patience, I'd go back to the beginning, tighten up the story, fix the problems that are so obvious to me now, and produce something better-suited to telling the story I wanted to. Knowing myself, though (I hate revising - I'd rather write new stories), it will take all my remaining energy just to revise the 20+ chapters that I haven't sent to RAAC for posting. I can't think of anything more to say about the story right now, so I'll move on to thanking some people. In no particular order, I thank: All those from the FFML who gave commentary on WUE, particularly Gary Kleppe and Vincent Seifert, both of whom gave regular and insightful commentary that was always helpful. Susan Doenime, for being the co-writer on my longest unfinished project other than WUE. Maybe we'll finally be able to finish it now... Blade, for all the discussion and debate and suggestions. And for Evil Zone. And Jealous Eyes. Which will get finished. Eventually. Chris Willmore, for explaining to me about not describing everything, and for co-writing Waterfalls with me. David Tai, who's even crazier than I am, and came up with the idea for "Pantyhose Tarou, I Choose You!", no matter what he claims to the contrary. Therefore, it wasn't my fault. The various RAAC moderators assigned to me over the last two years, who have always posted WUE and my other works with great speed. Anyone who ever wrote me e-mail about WUE, even the ones who accused me of being a gnostic feminist. The commentary kept me going. Meg Eichler, Kathy Greene, Tae Jensen, Kristen Smirnov, Lauren Ullrich, Nikki Wilcox and Ryan Young, talented fan artists all who flattered me by doing artwork based on WUE. The folks at FFIRC, who provided me with endless hours of amusing procrastination. The Keep Rats. Spacong. Mike Loader, who isn't me. Krista Perry, who encouraged me from the start. Everyone who's been with this massive story from the very beginning, even though it sometimes seemed that it would never get finished. Anyone else I've forgotten to thank who should be thanked, and an apology to them for forgetting. Ciao, -Alan Harnum, December 31st, 1999