Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Chains ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

There are stories of the times before-- stories and myths, told to children in their beds, or by the fireside on long winter nights. They speak of a moment when the dying First Spirits made a pact with a small group of humans, offering the use of their powers in exchange for a body to reside within. Resulting from this pact were the Beasts, who were human yet not-- who could command the animals whose Spirit they carried-- who could even at times take on the shape of the animals themselves.

The stories then tell of an age in which the Beasts lived among the animals, seeing humans and each other only rarely, roaming the lands and waters with the creatures that served them. During this time, a village might not be surprised to hear, in the night, a scurry of small footfalls in the street outside their windows, accompanied by the slower tread of a single human step. A herdsman in the meadows might be seen to bow politely to the wolf passing near his flock-- and more often than not, the wolf would continue by with no more than a glance.

It was an age of balance, the old ones often whispered. A better day, long gone.

Legends do not say how the fortress on the hill came to be. It simply appeared in the fabric of history, fully built, and shadowed every event from that moment on. Its walls were made of great stone blocks shaped and fitted and sealed in place, and topped with the chiseled likenesses of animals. Each of its rooms was fitted with all comforts-- yet all were empty. No residents, no servants, no Lord-- until the Beasts began arriving in response to some unknown call.

Slowly, slowly, the suites came to be filled by the Beasts as they stepped forward out of their dens and nests. And many think that they were glad of the chance to live together, to have a place among others like themselves-- for surely they must have been lonely, existing somewhere between the animal world and that of the humans, fully part of neither. They settled into the fortress as if it had been made for them, finding full suites of rooms suited to their specific needs and tastes-- the Serpent found a stone-paved balcony attached to his chambers, perfect for basking in the sun, while the Sea Dragon's rooms featured several pools of clear water.

The Beasts came one by one, and as they approached the fortress' gates they were met by a man. This man claimed to have built the fortress-- for them, of course, did they not see the carvings on the battlements?-- and asked an oath in return for the gift of its shelter. Just a small pledge, that while they lived within the grey stone walls they would obey his rulings. The Beasts came one by one, and took the pledge, and entered into their new home. The chains of oath-taking were set in place by their own words, freely given. The rooms filled-- until only one remained.

And then, the legends say, the man waited by the fortress' gates until the last of the Beasts approached. The Cat listened to the man's words and with characteristic arrogance denied him, refusing to accept anyone's direction but his own.

The Cat vanished into the trees, surrounded by the glinting of many eyes. The man turned and entered his fortress.

And slowly, slowly, the world began to change.

Time, from that point, is counted as history instead of myth. Guilds keep filed reports of finances and trade in the city of Ishara from the moment it started to grow around the fortress' walls. Libraries hold transcripts of the speech given by the man calling himself the Beastlord as he stood on the fortress' walls, declaring himself Lord and ruler of the lands. Some of the oldest may remember their great-grandparents telling of the things they saw on the day the Beasts swore fealty to the Lord and placed themselves at his command.

No records tell of the slow death of something wild and strong in the Beasts as they lived behind their walls-- but nonetheless, it happened. Just as no one knows exactly when the humans stopped respecting the animals and began holding them in something like contempt-- footfalls in the street were greeted with irritation and a pillow held over the ears; a wolf in the meadow was chased away with stones and shouts. For they were but animals, and the Beasts controlled the animals-- what need to respect those things that were nothing more than slaves and puppets?

Time passed, as it will, and Beasts and Beastlord alike aged. As a Beast died, the Spirit within passed to a successor of blood relation, and was renewed-- as it had been from the beginning. The Beastlord, when his own time came, took his son away into a sealed room for several days, and after those days the son emerged alone, holding the key to the oaths of the Beasts.

Time passed, and passed.

The people grew restless, as their own numbers grew, pushing against the bonds of rule that the Beastlord set. Until finally they rebelled against the confines of his law--

And the Beasts came forth from their fortress, and called the animals. The humans scoffed, seeing only the weak and skittish things that they chased with sticks-- until the first of them died with teeth in their throat. Thoughts of rebellion faded to ash as human blood stained the ground red and puddled on the streets.

The Beastlord watched from the top of his fortress' walls, and it is thought that he laughed.

And time passed.