Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Resonators ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Resonators

Prologue

By squishybookworm

Takato Matsuki jerked awake, immediately rolling. He came up on one knee with his sword in his hand. The fire behind him warmed his back and the crackling and popping of wood almost drowned out the soft footsteps of two people, just beyond his camp.

"Who's there?" he called, his baritone barely echoing before it seeped into the dark forest. He assumed the people didn't mean him any ill will because they'd purposefully stepped on a twig, thereby rousing him from his sleep. They'd done it far enough away that he couldn't see them, but close enough that he could tell where they were, and now they made no attempt to hide themselves. But still, these woods where dense and he was one lone mercenary. Even his thirty years of service to the Duke of Raleigh would not be enough to fight off eight reasonably well armed rogues and that was including his di-genes.

Cautiously, he dropped one hand to retrieve the dagger hidden in his boot. Before he could touch the hilt, however, a low voice spoke, "My disciple and I are travelers traveling to the city of Inepril. We saw your fire and thought we might share it with you tonight. We apologize if we'd startled you."

Takato grunted and stood, but kept a firm grip on his sword. "If your intentions are kind, I wouldn't mind some company tonight."

"Thank-you."

Takato heard the soft scratching of their shoes against dead leaves underfoot, but beyond that, could discern no more from the two. They appeared before him like ghosts emerging from the velvet darkness. One was very old, his long, gray hair braided neatly and his face clean-shaven. The crow's feet at the corner of his eyes framed twinkling dark eyes, as if he was eternally laughing, and deep lines scored the corners of his mouth, showing that he'd had his fair amount of misery as well as happiness. He was short, coming up only at about Takato's shoulder, but his stature made him seem taller. An undercurrent of strength vibrated throughout his body and Takato didn't doubt that this small man would be able beat off offenders if need be.

The other one was young. Like his master, he was only as tall as Takato's shoulder and his compact frame gave off the impression of subtle strength. Still smelling of his mother's milk, Takato would have said, except the boy's grey eyes belied that assessment. Serious and unnervingly heavy when they landed on him, they were like the eyes of one who, if met with danger, wouldn't flinch. Set in a smooth, tanned face, the youth made no expression whatsoever.

"I'm Takato Matsuki." He carefully set his sword down within easy reach as the two made their way to the other side of the fire.

"Long Sai Yuk. And my disciple, Wong Henry." Henry set their small packs down, then turned, leaving the circle of golden light cast by the fire.

"Where's he going?" Takato asked.

"He's fetching our horse." Sai Yuk grinned. "One can't be too careful, especially in this forest."

Takato nodded, glancing down at his bared sword. "Yes, of course." He studied the older man's clothes, which was some sort of heavy cotton robe over some loose trousers that tucked into thick, laced stockings. "You must be from the northern regions."

"Yes. Young Henry and I are traveling to the city of Inepril to pass some silly Echo test."

Takato blinked. "Echo test? You?"

Sai Yuk shook his head.

"Henry?" So maybe part of Henry's powerful appeal could be attributed to his di-genes? Takato wondered if that had also contributed to the youth's accelerated maturity. He shrugged mentally. What business was that of his?

Rummaging through the packs Henry had left behind, Sai Yuk nodded. "We'd received a letter some few weeks ago from the Academy of . . . the Academy Oto-something . . ." Sai Yuk sighed, pausing in his actions to think. "Hmm . . . I can't quite remember."

"You must mean Ohtori Academy."

Sai Yuk brightened. "Yes! Yes, that's it. Ohtori Academy." With a short cry of triumph, he pulled a pipe and a stub of herbs and began packing the pipe. "What about you, young man? What business does a warrior have in these lonely woods?"

Takato pulled out cloth and oil and began to clean his sword as if he'd planned to do so all along. This old man was certainly interesting, and if these two had planned to kill him and rob him of all his possessions, surely they would have done so already. He grinned, "I'm not so young, surely."

"Young enough for this old man."

"Not so old, surely."

"Ha-ha!" Sai Yuk shook his head, "Just won't let me have it, will you? No matter, no matter." He fished a burning twig from the fire and lit his pipe. A sweet, spicy scent soon permeated the clearing and allowed both men to relax.

Takato shook his head when Sai Yuk offered the smoke. Then he answered the old man's earlier question, "I'm going to Inepril." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll find a merchant or House in need of a good arm and fair character."

"Mercenary?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Sai Yuk nodded.

They lapsed into silence and Takato was glad Sai Yuk didn't pry any further. Takato finished polishing and slid his sword into its sheath. He carefully placed it next to his bedroll and looked up to ask where Henry had gone. He twitched in surprise and almost caught up his sword to bare it again. "Geh!" he choked out. Both men across the fire looked at him strangely. Breathing carefully, Takato relaxed his fists.

Damn! He hadn't even heard the kid come back!

"Where the hell did he come from?!" Takato managed to grit out. He glared at the impassive Henry. "Boy, you'd better call out next time or I'm liable to skewer you by mistake!"

Both Master and Student traded a glance. Takato could sense a whole conversation spoken through that one look and before he could ask, Henry turned away and Sai Yuk smiled apologetically to Takato.

"Henry doesn't speak," Sai Yuk said gently.

"What? Did he take a vow of silence or something of the like?"

"No." Sai Yuk's smile turned sad. "He's mute."

". . ." Takato scratched his cheek slowly, then said, "I meant no offense."

Sai Yuk chuckled. "None taken, rest assured. Young Henry does not mind."

Takato looked at the boy, who gazed back steadily with clear gray eyes. He nodded briefly, then turned away to unroll their bedding. With a shrug, Takato slipped under his cloak-turned-blanket, and was soon breathing evenly.

Takato Matsuki jerked awake, immediately rolling. He fell off the side of the bed with a loud thump and a muffled yelp. As he struggled to untangle himself from the bedsheets, his ma shouted impatiently from below, once again.

"Agh! Stupid!" Takato jerked a corner of the spread, promptly strangling himself in the process. "Ack!" Quickly, he tugged the strip around his neck, but it was wound too tight. He rolled, desperately trying to loosen the chokehold his blanket had on him and crashed into the legs of his bed. "Argh!" He rolled the other way, valiantly fighting off the sheets and finally succeeding. His body stopped short of the door and he lay there, gasping, his wine-red eyes wide and unfocused. His face flushed. His chest heaving. There was a creak. Whunk!

"AOUTCH! Ahh . . ." His breath stopped for a few seconds as he clutched his head. When he could breath again, he moaned lowly.

"Takato Matsuki! What were you thinking, putting your head where anyone could bash it in?! And what were you up to with all that racket?!"

Takato peeked through his fingers and squinted painfully through a red-hazed tunnel to find his ma glaring down at him. He opened his mouth to say, 'I almost choked to death!' but all that came out was a low, "Uraagghh . . ."

Her frown deepened further and she sniffed. "If you want my pity, you're wasting your time. You shouldn't have been jumping around up here like a monkey in heat! Now get dressed and get downstairs! The bread's ready to be fired up." She scowled a moment longer, then turned away. But not before Takato caught the hint of a smile on her lips.

He groaned, sitting up slowly. Gingerly probing the sore, he grimaced when his fingers found a particularly tender spot, then glared at the door, where his ma had been standing. Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, he slowly readied himself.

A few moments later, in the kitchen he found his mother, her hair pulled back tightly into a bun and covered with a kerchief. Flour powdered her arms up to her elbows as she kneaded a large lump of dough on the large table that dominated the kitchen. Ingredients piled waist high in every corner of the room left little space to maneuver and Takato would have to go all around the table to reach the short hallway, which led to their large ovens.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, his dad clapped his hand sending up short puffs of white smoke. "Good morning, Takato!" His dad grinned hugely. Takato felt faintly alarmed. "Heard quite a disturbance up there! You weren't trying to sneak a girl out now, were you?"

Takato immediately felt his face grow hot. "I . . . that's not . . . I wasn't . . ."

As he continued to sputter, his ma shot her husband a withering glare that didn't deter the chuckling man. "For shame, husband. He's only seen seventeen winters. He hasn't the common sense to do so!"

"BWAHAHAHA!"

"Maaa. . . ." Takato whined.

His dad shook his head, wiping some tears away. He chuckled, "He's almost a man now. And," his dad turned back to him with a decidedly mischevious glint in his eye, "from what I hear he's already getting sweet on Katou's daughter."

"W-w-what?!"

"Jeri?" his ma asked. "The innkeeper's daughter?"

"I am NOT getting sweet on her!"

"Hmm."

His ma stared at him with an undefinable expression. He twitched.

She finally turned back to her dough. "I approve."

"WHAT?!"

She fixed him with another glare. "She is a well-mannered girl. Quite charming and pretty, too. Perfect in luring you out of your silly Echoes daydreams."

"BWA-HAHAHAH!"

Takato scuttled past his parents and out the door, across from the stairs, trying to make it look as if he wasn't really running. He smothered the urge to tell them that it was the 'well-mannered girl' who'd first told him about Echoes

Inside the front room of their home where they sold their bread, he lit a lamp, grabbed a broom and grumbling furiously, he began sweeping. He was not getting sweet on her!

Once he'd had a small pile, he opened the front door swept the dust outside. The cool morning air brushed across his hot face soothingly and the first twitter of birds filtered through the dark. The faint brush of color in the east slowly melted away the last star as Takato stifled a small yawn. He leaned onto his broom, enjoying the silence and the only moment of peace he'd have before the day claimed him with chores and other tasks. The soft rustle of heavy skirts and two cheerfully young voices floated around the corner down the street and a moment later, two little forms came skidding around the corner, all arms, legs, and skirts.

Takato smiled at their childish antics and raised one hand lazily in greeting, not expecting them to notice in the predawn light. He blinked. The world was suddenly, strangely hazy. Building corners were blurred as if a child had drawn them in chalk and then ran a careless hand over them. Colors bled together into crazy swirls and seemed muted, like a very old painting he'd run across in their cellar. He stepped back involuntarily and the echo of his heel striking against the ground pinged like a high-toned bell. He blinked. And everything was suddenly normal again.

He gasped. Fell back on the door with a loud bang and blinked rapidly, but nothing changed. Distantly he noticed his ma's shouts of concern and on reflex, assured her that he was alright. He shook his head. Rubbed his eyes. And breathed a chuckling sigh when nothing changed. Too many free nights at the Katou inn with the visiting bards and their dramatic tales of heroic Echoes, no doubt. But still he couldn't shake off a niggling feeling of unease. Like a tickle on the back of his neck.

"Takato!"

He looked up, then straightened quickly. Then wished he hadn't.

"Taka!"

"Taka!"

Two high-pitched squeals were his only warning before two bundles launched themselves at him. He was almost bowled over from their combined weight, but managed to remain standing to smile lopsidedly at the older girl running up to them.

For as long as Takato could remember, Jeri Katou had come to their shop to buy the inn's needed supply of bread for the day. Living just around the corner, at first her father accompanied her to the shop, but as she grew older and her sisters were born, she came herself or with her sisters as was the case today.

Remembering his mother's words, he found himself admiring how the first rays of the sun brushed across the curve of her cheeks and touched mahagony highlights in her hair. The soft gold light fell softly into her eyes and lightened to them to brilliant orbs like shiny gold coins.

"Takato?"

Realizing he'd been staring, Takato coughed, quickly averting his gaze. His face grew hot once more and he swiftly ducked his head to hide the oncoming blush. Argh! He could imagine his ma's smug and triumphant smile. This was exactly what she wanted and what he'd do at all costs to avoid.

"Why Taka red?" Minako, the older twin asked.

"Why Taka red?" her younger twin, Usagi echoed.

"I-I-I am NOT red!"

But the two girls just giggled and poked him asking "Why, why, why?"

"Minako! Usagi!" Jeri scolded.

But they giggled and ran into the shop. Jeri stared after them, shaking her head. Then slanted an amused glance at Takato. "But I wonder," she said, "why is Taka red?"

"None of your business!"

Jeri giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Her hand, which was narrow and slightly calloused from hauling buckets of water for so many years. The fingers were long and slim, not like her mother's but like her father's who, Takato knew, had been a bard once. In fact, he even knew how to read and write and had included Takato in Jeri's lessons when they were younger. He'd even tried to teach Takato how to play the lute. Unfortunately, Takato had been too clumsy and his fingers were too blunt to handle such subtle strumming on the stringed instrument; however, Jeri had been quite adept and seemed to have gotten her father's natural talent. Takato used to love sitting in the Katou dining room and listen to the father and daughter duo play for guests on slow evenings.

Takato shook his head. He hadn't been to the inn for a quite a while. Maybe he could finish early tonight and his ma would let him go . . .

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Huh? What? Jeri?"

Jeri rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "No. The Resonater. Honestly, do you have wool between your ears? Or are you still dreaming of being a," she puffed out her chest like a rooster and lowered her voice, "Great and Mighty Echo."

"If I'll look like that, then . . . no."

Unoffended, Jeri dropped the posture with a bright laugh. Takato smiled. He turned back to the door. And everything blurred.

The door seemed to wave like he was seeing it over the fumes of an open fire, and once again the colors seemed to bleed and twirl into one another crazily. Takato shook his head. But nothing changed. He squeezed his eyes tightly. Tried to keep the small scream from escaping. Luckily, his throat seemed to have frozen up on him, and a strange constriction in his chest blocked his lungs off. His shallow breaths sounded like the sloshing of an overturned waterbucket as he opened his eyes slowly.

"No. . . ." he breathed. Nothing. Nothing happened. What was going on? There was the door still waving at him. No. . . . this . . . this was just too unreal. . . .

"Takato," Jeri whimpered. She clutched his sleeve and he found the touch very comforting. He covered her hand, hoping she wouldn't notice his trembling.

"What is happening?" Jeri whispered.

"I-" Takato backed away from the door, pulling Jeri along with him, "I don't know." He looked back at the pale girl, her eyes wide and fearful. She gasped suddenly her hold tightened on him. He winced, but she didn't notice.

"Oh, merciful Shuichon," she whispered. "We can't be . . . This can't be . . ."

"Jeri? What? Do you know? Jeri!" Takato shook her slightly when her eyes seemed to glaze.

She looked back at him with a horrified expression. "Takato, those stories. The Echoes, the Mistakes, the Tunings. . . ."

Terror flooded Takato's being. He shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no, no. They're stories. They're just stories!"

Tears pooled into Jeri's eyes and she scooted closer. "But this is exactly how it was described! This is exactly how the bards said it would be like! Takato," she sniffed, "Oh, Takato, how do we get back?!"

"Don't worry, Jeri," Takato soothed. "Don't worry." But he couldn't stop the slight waver in his voice. And he wrapped an arm around her, seeking familiar human warmth in the strange distorted town that had been his home but moments before.

Henry's eyes snapped open. The gray orbs shone eerily bright in the fantastical landscape he'd awoken to. The moon overhead shone dully, its pearly sheen non-existent. The surrounding trees shifted and creaked abnormally in tandem with the moaning wind; the pattern in their bark seeming to move and twist like live snakes. The camp seemed to have disappeared. From the edge of the clearing, just in the shadow of one of the taller trees, a rustling like dry skin against dead leaves sounded. A moment later it repeated. This time closer.

Henry slowly stood up, his movements quiet and deliberate. He didn't notice the dark figure behind him.

A/N: So what do you think of it? This is my first Tamers fanfiction. (Even though it is AU . . . for now. . . .) I would love to hear your thoughts and your criticisms. So please review. Thank-you.