Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ Lord of Wolves ❯ Chapter 1
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Lord of Wolves
By Penguine
Rating: PG-13 (Language/Violence/Gore) Disclaimer: I, Penguine, do not own the Ronin Warriors. Sunrise, inc. does. Damn! A harsh wind bit savagely at armor covered skin, and the air was white with falling snow as the battle field rang with the cries of war. The valley rattled against the howling, bitter winter wind with clashing swords, the battle whoops of warriors, and the mortality of the injured and dying as the two giant armies crashed together in violent throes of fury and death. The ground was littered with the bodies of the defeated, and the snow was now marbled scarlet with the blood of those fallen.
Up on the mountain side, a youth fought ferociously with honor and destruction in every blow of his sword. The fierce wind bellowed through his helmet and teased at his bluish-black hair. The ambient light of the snowy battle field sparkled in his cobalt colored eyes. His soul became a raging inferno, feeding hungrily from this giant battle as he duelled, stabbed, sliced and diced his way to victory. Sure, he'd been in battles before. But none of the epic proportions and fire that this one possessed. With each small victory, he thrived ever stronger. Then, suddenly, the rug was yanked out from under him, and he fell to the ranks of the defeated as a better skilled opponent appeared out of the mist and struck out with his scarlet stained katana.
The youth, no older than fourteen, cried out in pain as the tip of the other's sword brushed wildly against his left cheek, forever branding him for his carelessness. The youth's eyes then bulged and he hissed mutely as the blade found a way through his armor at the waist, biting harshly into the boy's tender flesh. The young warrior would have laughed at the bitter irony of the changing of tides if it had not hurt so damn much. 'So this my end, huh?' the boy thought to himself sickly. The bland white then faded and became pitch as the youth fell into a numb unconcious abyss to await the arrival of sweet death.
Beyond the downed warrior, the battle began to die, itself, and the remanents slowly began to move down the valley and through the pass. The bitter wind now seemed to fade with the tensions of war, and the snow thinned to only a few million fat flakes, lazily drifting down to meet up with their several feet of friends on the ground.
Over the ridge of the mountain side the youth lay on, a creature appeared, staring silently down at the forgotten battle field. A now gentle breeze danced in its thick, pure white coat of long bushy canine fur, and the light danced in its bright vobalt blue eyes. As it sniffed at the air that now reeked of the death strown out across the valley, the giant wolf's piercing gaze drifted down towards a hint of movement just beyond the ridge on which she now stood.
Curious, the wolf slowly padded through the thick snow down to the source of the movement. A few feet shy, she stopped and stared down at the body before her. It was smaller than most of the others, perhaps a bit young. What held her gaze firm to it was the slight appearance of movement in the chest area.
Slowly, cautiously, the wolf stepped over to the fallen warrior's side. There, a slight bit of warmth drifted lazily through the air to touch her cold black nose. To her highly sensitive ears came the slightest sound of breath. The warrior's chest moved slightly every now and then, and, rarely, a small cloud of mist would billow from his nostrols as his body struggled to remain living. Determination filled the wolf's soul as she realized what her task of the day was, and set about making it happen. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The young boy named Cale groaned tightly as he stirred and floated back up to the world of the living from the abyss of unconciousness. Slowly, he opened his eyes and his senses gradually began reporting once more to him the latest news. Slowly, he became aware of a numbed burning on his left cheek. he then realised it was only his right eye that was open. His left eye was meered shut with swollen tissue and blood from the wound. And too he became aware of a dull icy throbbing in his gut, and memories of the battle filled his mind.
"So I didn't die," Cale reflected softly to himself. He slowly raised his head and looked around. Doing so brought the realization to hijm that he was no longer on the battle field, but some elsewhere he knew not what. "Where the hell am I, and how did I get here?" he wondered aloud to himself.
Then, a few paces away, he noticed a few paces away, a woman, with flesh of a pale cream color. Long, straight, shiny silver, ice blue, and white hair tumbled down the front, back, and side of her to end at her ankles. Her deep brilliant blue eyes sparkled with winter magic. Upon her early twentish looking thin, gracefully curved frame, hung a form hugging shimmering white silk dress.
Cale gawked in amazement at the figure. "Wh-who are you?" he sputtered hoarsely in bewilderment.
"I am Yuki, Spirit of the North. I have done my duty to protect you from the winter. Now, I must leave. Take care," she whispered in a loud bell-like echoing voice.
Cale did a double take as between a blink of his eye, the girl figure disappeared and was replaced by the figure of a large white wolf. The wolf locked her blue eyed gaze with his a moment longer then strode away int othe mist of falling snow.
As the creature disappeared into the white mist of winter snow, Cale's attention was redirected toward the sound of another human voice. It sounded like that of an older woman.
"Oh my God! Aroko-san! Come here, quick! There's a young soldier laying in front of the house!" she yelled back to someone. Dropping his head back to the ground, Cale turned it slightly to see a middle aged housewife standing on the door step of a small but adequate mountain cabin. Throuh the door, then appeared a man with graying black hair.
"Heavens!" the man yelped as he immediately arrived at Cale's side. "Hold on, young one. Just hold on a little longer. We'll fix you up!" the man said hurriedly to the armored youth. Cale tried to move.. to get up himself, but he was only rewarded with a wave of pain and nausea that rushed through his frozen body. The impact of the tremendous wave sent him falling over the edge and back down in the dark abyss of unconcious ness once more. The boy muttered a soft involentary groan through his unnatural state of slumber as his body was plucked from the ground and tossed over the man's shoulder. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Later, Cale awoke to find himself tucked away in a warm bed inside the cabin. A few feet away, a lazy fire crackled and gave the room a soft amber glow. The young boy came to realise, his wounds had been treated and dressed.
With his one good eye, he looked about the room. his gaze came to fall on the housewife setting by the fire, doing her sewing. Sensing his eyes upon her, she looked up. A slight smile appeared on her lips as she gazed back at him.
"So, I see you are awake," she said in a soft warm grandmother tone. She turned to her right and spoke out to someone, "Aroko-san, he's awake." The man of the house appeared from behind a corner and walked over to where Cale lay.
"Ah, so he is," the man answered. "And how are you feelin young soldier?" he asked the boy.
"Like hell, but better than before," Cale answered truthfully.
"I see. You are lucky, young one. The blade seemed to have missed anything major, and though there will be a scar, your left eye should be fine in a few days," the man replied. "May I ask your name?"
"Cale. Call me Cale," the youth replied.
"All right then, Cale-san," the man said, testing out the name. "What happened, and how did you come to appear on our doorstep way out here in the middle of no where?"
"There was a huge battle in a valley somewhere near here. The second question, I myself, would like to know the answer to," Cale said, not bothering to mention the wolf. He may have just been delirious and imaged the girl. But then, how did he get here?
His mind slowly pick through the information he did have. That girl. If she was real, then how did she do that? Morph into a wolf the way she did? And who was she? Did she mean what she said? Was she the Spirit of the North come to save him from certain death? Would he ever see her again? These questions burned and swam through the boy's mind.
For some odd reason, something in Cale's instinct told him what he saw was indeed real. Then, he thought, to remain honorable, there was only one thing left to do to repay her for her kindness. He would some how embrace those lords of the wilderness, the wolves, and the fury of winter. In an instant, he then knew, that's where his inner strength lie, and he thanked Yuki for showing it to him. Author's Note: This is my first completed serious fan fic. So, please do not flame me too much. But if you have any comments, please fell free to email me. ^_^ Back var yviContents='http://us.toto.geo.yahoo.com/toto?s=76001074&l=NE&b=1& amp;t=998876560';yviR='us';yfiEA(0); geovisit();
By Penguine
Rating: PG-13 (Language/Violence/Gore) Disclaimer: I, Penguine, do not own the Ronin Warriors. Sunrise, inc. does. Damn! A harsh wind bit savagely at armor covered skin, and the air was white with falling snow as the battle field rang with the cries of war. The valley rattled against the howling, bitter winter wind with clashing swords, the battle whoops of warriors, and the mortality of the injured and dying as the two giant armies crashed together in violent throes of fury and death. The ground was littered with the bodies of the defeated, and the snow was now marbled scarlet with the blood of those fallen.
Up on the mountain side, a youth fought ferociously with honor and destruction in every blow of his sword. The fierce wind bellowed through his helmet and teased at his bluish-black hair. The ambient light of the snowy battle field sparkled in his cobalt colored eyes. His soul became a raging inferno, feeding hungrily from this giant battle as he duelled, stabbed, sliced and diced his way to victory. Sure, he'd been in battles before. But none of the epic proportions and fire that this one possessed. With each small victory, he thrived ever stronger. Then, suddenly, the rug was yanked out from under him, and he fell to the ranks of the defeated as a better skilled opponent appeared out of the mist and struck out with his scarlet stained katana.
The youth, no older than fourteen, cried out in pain as the tip of the other's sword brushed wildly against his left cheek, forever branding him for his carelessness. The youth's eyes then bulged and he hissed mutely as the blade found a way through his armor at the waist, biting harshly into the boy's tender flesh. The young warrior would have laughed at the bitter irony of the changing of tides if it had not hurt so damn much. 'So this my end, huh?' the boy thought to himself sickly. The bland white then faded and became pitch as the youth fell into a numb unconcious abyss to await the arrival of sweet death.
Beyond the downed warrior, the battle began to die, itself, and the remanents slowly began to move down the valley and through the pass. The bitter wind now seemed to fade with the tensions of war, and the snow thinned to only a few million fat flakes, lazily drifting down to meet up with their several feet of friends on the ground.
Over the ridge of the mountain side the youth lay on, a creature appeared, staring silently down at the forgotten battle field. A now gentle breeze danced in its thick, pure white coat of long bushy canine fur, and the light danced in its bright vobalt blue eyes. As it sniffed at the air that now reeked of the death strown out across the valley, the giant wolf's piercing gaze drifted down towards a hint of movement just beyond the ridge on which she now stood.
Curious, the wolf slowly padded through the thick snow down to the source of the movement. A few feet shy, she stopped and stared down at the body before her. It was smaller than most of the others, perhaps a bit young. What held her gaze firm to it was the slight appearance of movement in the chest area.
Slowly, cautiously, the wolf stepped over to the fallen warrior's side. There, a slight bit of warmth drifted lazily through the air to touch her cold black nose. To her highly sensitive ears came the slightest sound of breath. The warrior's chest moved slightly every now and then, and, rarely, a small cloud of mist would billow from his nostrols as his body struggled to remain living. Determination filled the wolf's soul as she realized what her task of the day was, and set about making it happen. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The young boy named Cale groaned tightly as he stirred and floated back up to the world of the living from the abyss of unconciousness. Slowly, he opened his eyes and his senses gradually began reporting once more to him the latest news. Slowly, he became aware of a numbed burning on his left cheek. he then realised it was only his right eye that was open. His left eye was meered shut with swollen tissue and blood from the wound. And too he became aware of a dull icy throbbing in his gut, and memories of the battle filled his mind.
"So I didn't die," Cale reflected softly to himself. He slowly raised his head and looked around. Doing so brought the realization to hijm that he was no longer on the battle field, but some elsewhere he knew not what. "Where the hell am I, and how did I get here?" he wondered aloud to himself.
Then, a few paces away, he noticed a few paces away, a woman, with flesh of a pale cream color. Long, straight, shiny silver, ice blue, and white hair tumbled down the front, back, and side of her to end at her ankles. Her deep brilliant blue eyes sparkled with winter magic. Upon her early twentish looking thin, gracefully curved frame, hung a form hugging shimmering white silk dress.
Cale gawked in amazement at the figure. "Wh-who are you?" he sputtered hoarsely in bewilderment.
"I am Yuki, Spirit of the North. I have done my duty to protect you from the winter. Now, I must leave. Take care," she whispered in a loud bell-like echoing voice.
Cale did a double take as between a blink of his eye, the girl figure disappeared and was replaced by the figure of a large white wolf. The wolf locked her blue eyed gaze with his a moment longer then strode away int othe mist of falling snow.
As the creature disappeared into the white mist of winter snow, Cale's attention was redirected toward the sound of another human voice. It sounded like that of an older woman.
"Oh my God! Aroko-san! Come here, quick! There's a young soldier laying in front of the house!" she yelled back to someone. Dropping his head back to the ground, Cale turned it slightly to see a middle aged housewife standing on the door step of a small but adequate mountain cabin. Throuh the door, then appeared a man with graying black hair.
"Heavens!" the man yelped as he immediately arrived at Cale's side. "Hold on, young one. Just hold on a little longer. We'll fix you up!" the man said hurriedly to the armored youth. Cale tried to move.. to get up himself, but he was only rewarded with a wave of pain and nausea that rushed through his frozen body. The impact of the tremendous wave sent him falling over the edge and back down in the dark abyss of unconcious ness once more. The boy muttered a soft involentary groan through his unnatural state of slumber as his body was plucked from the ground and tossed over the man's shoulder. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Later, Cale awoke to find himself tucked away in a warm bed inside the cabin. A few feet away, a lazy fire crackled and gave the room a soft amber glow. The young boy came to realise, his wounds had been treated and dressed.
With his one good eye, he looked about the room. his gaze came to fall on the housewife setting by the fire, doing her sewing. Sensing his eyes upon her, she looked up. A slight smile appeared on her lips as she gazed back at him.
"So, I see you are awake," she said in a soft warm grandmother tone. She turned to her right and spoke out to someone, "Aroko-san, he's awake." The man of the house appeared from behind a corner and walked over to where Cale lay.
"Ah, so he is," the man answered. "And how are you feelin young soldier?" he asked the boy.
"Like hell, but better than before," Cale answered truthfully.
"I see. You are lucky, young one. The blade seemed to have missed anything major, and though there will be a scar, your left eye should be fine in a few days," the man replied. "May I ask your name?"
"Cale. Call me Cale," the youth replied.
"All right then, Cale-san," the man said, testing out the name. "What happened, and how did you come to appear on our doorstep way out here in the middle of no where?"
"There was a huge battle in a valley somewhere near here. The second question, I myself, would like to know the answer to," Cale said, not bothering to mention the wolf. He may have just been delirious and imaged the girl. But then, how did he get here?
His mind slowly pick through the information he did have. That girl. If she was real, then how did she do that? Morph into a wolf the way she did? And who was she? Did she mean what she said? Was she the Spirit of the North come to save him from certain death? Would he ever see her again? These questions burned and swam through the boy's mind.
For some odd reason, something in Cale's instinct told him what he saw was indeed real. Then, he thought, to remain honorable, there was only one thing left to do to repay her for her kindness. He would some how embrace those lords of the wilderness, the wolves, and the fury of winter. In an instant, he then knew, that's where his inner strength lie, and he thanked Yuki for showing it to him. Author's Note: This is my first completed serious fan fic. So, please do not flame me too much. But if you have any comments, please fell free to email me. ^_^ Back var yviContents='http://us.toto.geo.yahoo.com/toto?s=76001074&l=NE&b=1& amp;t=998876560';yviR='us';yfiEA(0); geovisit();