Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ Shaman King 2498 ❯ A Visitor In The Night ( Chapter 6 )

Hey, it's me again, in a special-location author's notes... or something like that. Anyways, my reason for putting this up here is to note a new addition to the story and its styles. If you see a character's name underlined, like this on a line, it means that the story shifts to said character's point of view. Which means that you'll get to see some other perspectives, though Natsume will still be the main character. Other stylistic indicators include italics to indicate a ghost's speech, or a shaman's speech to his ghost while integrated, and *bold with stars* to indicate an integrated shaman's speech and/or attack names.

Also, there are now character profiles up at my website. They don't contain a whole lot of information, but they may be interesting to you anyways.

When I was younger, I used to have very vivid dreams. I remember waking up in terror from some nightmare, or being able to remember what I dreamed a week later. Hell, I still remember the contents of some of those dreams from earlier. But as I got older, and progressed farther into my shamanic training, the dreams started disappearing. Now, I hardly ever dream.

I suppose I must, but just don't wake up during one of them, and as such don't remember them. But still, it feels odd, lying down to go to sleep and then waking up the next morning with no segue in between. Torrus says that it's because of my meditation, and balancing myself means less stray pieces of consciousness to create dreams with. Maybe.

But last night, I dreamt. And I still remember it now.

I was walking through a dark forest. It must have been winter, since a bitterly cold wind whistled through the bare branches of the trees. These selfsame branches stretched out like claws, red light casting dozens of shadows across the ground. Every time the wind rocked the trees, the shadows would move, as if trying to reach out and grab me.

Disturbed at this, I ran forward, first at a light jog, then breaking out into a full dash. There was someplace I wanted to be, on the other side of this forest, but I can't remember what now--escape was all that motivated me. I kept running until I hit a tree root, and went flying. For some reason, I couldn't catch myself, and wound up hitting the ground hard. The impact rumbled through me, and I worried that I had strained something.

I got to my knees, only to notice the girl before me. She looked European, and can't have been older than six, but her eyes displayed a maturity and also a cynicism which look like they belong to someone much older. She was wearing a young girl's black dress, done up as fancy as a woman's, with white pantyhose that I couldn't avoid seeing--as the girl was hovering four feet in the air. The child was holding a sickle in her hands.

"Who... are you?" I asked. It was then that I noticed her facial features, or lack thereof. Her face was nothing more than rounded bumps where mouth, nose and eyes should be. She looked like a porcelain doll.

"Death shall come to me," she said. No part of her body moved, much less what would have been lips, and yet I knew the echoing, youthful but flat, voice was hers.

Then the girl raised her scythe, and I wondered briefly for a minute if she was going to bring it down on me--before she drove it into her own chest. Blood spurted forward onto the grass, and I jumped back, horrified. She drew her scythe downward, causing blood to pour from her body in a grotesque torrent.

Suddenly, I was no longer inside those terrible woods. Instead, I was standing in the CIASOSM parking garage--strange, as I've only seen the structure once, when I was driven in here. But the girl was still floating in front of me, her torso ripped open like the doors of an empty cabinet, its contents spilt onto the ground before me.

The only difference was, the scythe was in my hands.

"I... didn't do it!" I proclaimed feebly, dropping the weapon onto the ground in a panic. It's then that I noticed the blood had formed into marks, spelling out numbers: "10/23".

The girl's voice sounded again, more resonant despite her apparent wounds. "Death shall come to you." My body began shaking, and then moving of its own volition. I picked up the scythe from the ground, my mind numbing, holding it the same way the girl did.

"Death shall come to all." I drove the scythe into myself, in perfect mimicry.

Disclaimer:Shaman King is owned by Hiroyuki Takei and others. I am using its world and concept without permission. All characters, however, and a good bit of the setting, are original. This chapter contains profanity and graphic violence. Future chapters may contain sexual overtones and homosexual relationships.

Natsume sees my distress, as evidenced by my sweat and distant recollection of the nightmare. "Is there anything wrong, Lu Han?" he asks.

"...nothing," I reply. "It's just this weird dream I had last night, is all."

"Dream?" Torrus asks. "You never dream. I am worried."

"Well, maybe it was something," I admit hesitantly. If I could remember this dream, maybe it had more significance than I thought. My teacher once told me that nothing was insignificant. Maybe he's right, now. I describe my dream to Natsume and our ghosts.

"Ech," Rukh says after I finish. "If that wasn't a sign or something, you've got a sick mind, boy."

"Yeah, it was gory," Natsume agrees. "What about the girl? Did you recognize her?"

"No." I honestly haven't seen the girl in my life, and she didn't even seem like a girl, really. Maybe a ghost? But maybe that wasn't the real message. "10/23... that was what the blood spelt out. What does that mean? And why did I stab myself at the end? It just doesn't make any sense, guys."

"Perhaps it was a message of some kind," Torrus suggests. "A riddle, from the gods. And the location, the girl, the number, the weapon, are all symbols."

"Well, when he stabbed himself, it was in the parking lot--where he entered this damn place, if I understand correctly," Rukh theorizes. "So maybe the message is saying that he's killing himself, in effect, by going to CIASOSM."

"Interesting," Natsume adds in. "But I think that the number is the key. 10/23--it doesn't seem to have much significance, as a phrase, or as an equation. But what about a date?"

10/23. October 23rd. "That's tomorrow."

The brown-haired shaman turns away, and I sense a degree of hurt in his composure. "That's not all it is."

"Really?" Torrus asks. "What do you know about this, Natsume?"

"October 23rd... I really haven't thought about it in a while... probably missed the last two times completely..." he says vaguely. "Well, it was about ten years ago. I was in kindergarten. On October 23rd, I stayed home from school. I had developed a bad cold overnight, and my parents were always cautious.

"That day, one of the boys in my class--Amano, I think it was, never really knew him--brought in a gun to school. His father's." Natsume's breath catches. The memory is painful. "He...opened fire on the class. Everyone was in a panic. He must have killed ten kids... and then he shot himself in the head with the last bullet. No one knows why.

"My best friend at time was killed as well. The media paid their rounds, the activists took from it what they needed to, but a month later everyone had forgotten about it. These things just happen too often nowadays. But it was an important date for me. I always wondered why. Why I stayed home that day. Why I didn't die. I don't know if that makes me blessed or cursed." His voice is even and a bit cold, but I can see his eyes tearing up. He tries to hide them, out of masculine pride.

"...wow," I say simply. I had really struck a geyser without even knowing it. Maybe my judgement of Natsume as your average kid wasn't accurate after all. But does this really have anything to do with my dream? I place an awkward hand on his shoulder, and he turns away stiffly.

"Harsh," Rukh whistles. "But that's not the reason, right? It's probably just a coincidence, especially seeing how it is tomorrow."

"Yeah," Natsume says, inhaling again. "You're probably right. It just made my remember something I really didn't want to.

"Say, you know what we should do?" Torrus says, changing the subject. "We should ask Janna to perform one of her auguries on Lu Han. It will tell us if your dream was in fact a symbol, or a message, or if it was just a vivid nightmare."

I nod. Janna's discipline is the shamanic magic practised by the Native American tribes, much like Darui's Patch. Her methods should be able to tell us if anything in particular gave me that dream. And it'll at least get Natsume's mind off of this impending anniversary.

Though we're supposed to be training, the only administrative people around are Darui (who is always coaching a match or some such) and Soun (who just doesn't give a damn), so it's fairly simple to set up a little seance like this. We're sitting crouch-legged in Janna's room. I've been here before, and it doesn't look much different from my and Natsume's room, except for the boy-band posters which Janna swears are Shi's.

Janna and I sit across from each other, a circle drawn with ritual dust. Natsume sits on Janna's bed, looking at the ceremony with mild interest. Torrus and Rukh are sitting by idly.

Janna raises her hand. "Lu Han Chang, are you certain that you wish your dream of the past night to be divined by the spirits?"

"Yes," I reply. It's an obvious exchange, but one that is required by ritual

"Very well then," she said. Her two animal spirits appear, then she grabs one of their spirits in each hand. Janna is nothing like her usual, easygoing self... it's like she's the one possessed. Her eyes are glazed over, and to be honest, she reminds me of Soun. She slams her palms into the circle with a surprising amount of force. "Spirits of sky and sea, surrender your power into the ritual, divine what troubles this soul.

The soil drawing glows, and the dust begins to slowly float upwards, surrounding us with a rainbow of glowing grains. Janna is chanting quickly, under her breath, though I can't understand the words--and I somehow doubt even she can. It feels as if my body, the outer carriage of my soul, is cracking open. My eyes stare straight ahead as it falls away, and it feels like I'm truly naked and open for just a minute. And then, staring forward, my mind ceases.

I watch the ceremony with fascination. The dust in the air seems to obscure it, but I can see that Lu Han has stopped moving, and is staring forward like a guppy. Janna's eyes are hidden, and her facial expression is unreadable as she begins to whisper quickly. I strain to hear what she says. This is a side of shamanism I've never seen before. Maybe I could use my abilities to help people...

Janna holds up her hands, and her face shoots up. Her eyes stare at Lu Han's, and both are blank. The dust flashes and vanishes. This is the apex of the ritual! Getting excited, I lean forward, trying to see what's happening. There's an electric connection, almost insensible, between the two, and--

--they both suddenly go back to normal.

I fall off the bed, having leaned forward expecting something a bit more dramatic. "Ow," Janna says. She's describing her own pain not mine. "It always smarts after you do that thing... just the extension of soul... I'm gonna be at half-power for a week, I swear."

"It's all right," Lu Han says. "So what did you see."

She sighs. "Well, near the end of last night, something attacked your dreamscape. They got through, and from what I can presume sent you that dream."

"So, what was it?" I ask. I hope that no one's actually trying to hurt Lu Han.

"A ghost, from what I can tell," says Janna. I don't think she's sure. "It's very suspicious."

What do we do now? Lu Han asks that very question, taking the words out of my mouth. Janna responds with "How am I supposed to know?" and a noncommital shrug. "Lu Han, you have really strong willpower, so if it can attack you like that I'm scared."

"Not much we can do, then?" I say. Odd. Janna says she's scared, but the expression on her face is even, and the corners of her mouth are even turning up a bit in a grin.

"No," Lu Han sighs angrily. "Whoever this is, they're toying with us."

"Why don't we ask Darui?" I suggest.

"Go to the official to solve your problems?" Janna asks. "You're a brave one." Needless to say, I don't like her tone of voice.

"Now let's not get too hasty here," Lu Han adds. Does he think that her and I were getting to hostile? Whatever. "I don't think we should alert Darui. It's just a one-time thing, so it could be a student messing around with us. And if it's a foreign attack... I don't want to think about it."

"Why not?" I ask. I worry about sounding stupid, but then again, I need to learn these things to.

Lu Han answers with "Well, the politics would be quite messy. If we treated this as a serious assault, and it was from an empire like America, it could well mean an exchange between militaries-- which we are. Darui would demand an apology, and the bigwigs over there haven't given one of those for centuries, and there could be all-out war. The other empires would join in, or sit back and swoop in when all of the involved are worn down. It would be world war."

"Wow," I say simply. I never thought that a personal problem like this could possibly be related to a global event. His connections seem a little unlikely, but eminently possible.

"Of course, Darui would probably just dismiss it, whether he believed it was a dream or fear of that," Lu Han reassured. "But still, that doesn't help us. Consider it a test of our shamanic abilities.

"Well, in my case, they direly need testing," I joke. Despite my decisive victory over Tao Kun last month, and a subsequent victory over another opponent a couple weeks ago, my shaman skills are still fairly pathetic. At least I think so.

Say, shouldn't Janna be jumping in the conversation right about now? We both look over to see her in the same position, eyes closed, quietly sleeping. Her mouth is open slightly, and a bit of drool is leaking out, dribbling down onto her uniform's skirt.

"The ceremony must have exhausted her..." Lu Han explains, wiping the drool on her clothes away. I think that if she expended that much energy, we should have got a less vague answer, but I keep that to myself. Lu Han lifts her up in his arms, making a groan based on her weight, betraying his heroic guise. He gently lays Janna down on the bed, and it's hard to miss the light of affection in his eyes.

It's kind of cute. We both leave the sleeping girl to rest as we quietly exit, heading back to our room.

I wake up suddenly the next morning. Normally I have to be dragged out of bed, but this time there's no trace of fatigue touching my body, like I suddenly went from being fast asleep to my energy level in the middle of the day. Lu Han, beside me, has also woken up, but he is sitting on the side of his bed, clutching his mattress like a life raft.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I had another dream..." he mutters. "There was another girl... older... looked more alive, a human being..."

"Pardon?" I ask, moving closer.

Lu Han is covered in sweat, and for the first time in all the time I've known him, he honestly looks scared. "...she wants to fight."

"What?"

"She said that she wants to fight me, in the garage. Tonight, at midnight. You too. Natsume... I'm scared."

"Fight you?" Janna asked, leaving her breakfast untouched. Lu Han's news-- we're whispering, to avoid alerting anyone-- had upset her as soon as she heard it. "Damnit... and you're going to go through with this?"

"I don't see where I have a choice," Lu Han remarks. "If I don't go, these dreams'll just continue, and she might attack on her own terms."

"So might as well fight her now?" I ask. Something doesn't seem right here, and I really think that we could afford to call this mysterious girl's bluff. What's the worst that could happen? Besides, like Lu Han said, if we fought her it could cause an international incident. And she could just as easily kill us. No, it's better to be safe than sorry...

...my objection dies in my throat. Lu Han is staring forward steadfastly, his wide eyes formed in full resolve. Maybe we should fight. At worst, it was another shaman, and I'd better get used to fighting those. "All right. We'll go out there. We really don't know what's going on anyway."

"You shouldn't," an almost monotone voice says from beside us. I whip my head around to see who it is, wondering how much they had heard. Kun--the boy I had defeated about two months ago--is sitting beside us, unnoticed, without food. He looks much the same, with his green hair even being the same length.

"How did you get here?" I ask, panicked.

The Chinese boy shrugs. "Secret ninja tricks," he replies dryly. "Anyway, it's really stupid for you to go out to fight someone like that. It could be a trap, after all. You don't know what they want, or what you stand to gain. All you have to work on is dreams."

Janna growls. "So what? I know those dreams came from someone... or some*thing* else. Like Lu Han just said, we're basically at whoever's mercy, so why not fight back?"

"You could get yourself killed!" Kun argues.

Lu Han shrugs, his eyes closed in passive defiance. "So? What do you care? Less competition, right?"

"I..." Kun's face hardens all of a sudden. "Well, you two can go ahead and do whatever you want. But Takenouchi... don't go. You defeated me before. If you die, I can never reclaim my honour."

Kun is gone. I blink. How did he disappear like that? Rubbing my eyes, I can still see Janna frown darkly. "What the hell?"

"Reclaim my honour..." I say out loud. What Kun just said sounded like something out of an old samurai prog. "I wonder if he really means that..."

"Not likely," Janna snorts. "I wish I could come with you guys, but I'm still recovering my mana from that damn ritual. Your mind is really hard to read, you know?"

"Sorry," says Lu Han sheepishly. "But you know, Natsume, we should probably prepare. Train, come up with a plan in the event of combat... maybe find someone who's willing to be our backup."

I nod. "Yeah. And then... it's the big event."

Our preparations, however, don't go as well as we planned. There's nothing we can really take with us, and Rukh's lessons have started going in circles lately. I've got the basic manoeuvres down, but the more complex stuff still sends me sprawling over my own feet. As for backup, Janna was out of the picture, Kun had pulled a disappearing act, and Shi had threatened to tell Darui after we told her. Needless to say, my thoughts of the purple-haired girl went down after that.

So, me and Lu Han are alone, sneaking out into the parking lot. A couple ghosts guard the halls, but they aren't very smart (being raised souls put under the instruction of Soun) and it's a big facility. Trying to find a path to the parking lot was harder, but with some recollection I remembered the way I was sent and we headed down the stairs just past Darui's room. I suppose we were lucky he didn't see us there and reprimand us.

All looks well. The park looks normal--asphalt on the ground, mostly empty, signs telling us that absolutely no unauthorized trespassers were allowed. Still, there's something in the air that feels uneasy. I can tell that I'm not alone, as the ghosts have turned into spirit ball form, as if we were about to go into battle. I suppose it's a spiritual form of your adrenaline pumping.

Lu Han is the first to notice something. "The lights are on. If no one was expected to be arriving soon--and they usually don't do it in the dead of night, in case you're wondering-- then the lights would be off."

"Good eye," I say. Though, it wasn't really his eye. "Er, brain."

Somehow, Lu Han ended up leading the two of us and our ghosts. We walk up a ramp, unafraid of vehicles, as he forges ahead cautiously. We go up onto another level, when he suddenly stops meaningfully. "Here. This is where it happened in my dream."

"I see," I say, wondering what's going to happen next.

I get my answer soon.

The first thing I see is the shadow, and then she falls to earth, landing gracefully on her feet. She has long, silky black hair which flows as she moves. Her face looks European, western, though I can't pin it down to a specific country. Her arms and legs are long and slender, and her body is good, looking as though it belongs to a dancer.. This girl is wearing a somewhat frilly dress, that wouldn't have looked out of place in Victorian England. It clings to her breasts, but puffs out rather ridiculously around her legs. The dress is pure black.

"You are Lu Han Chang and Natsume Takenouchi, correct?" she asks. I notice that in her right hand she is holding the hilt of a long scythe.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Who are you?"

"Elizabeth..." she introduces herself. It sounds like she's going to add a last name for a minute, but doesn't. "Elizabeth, of the Releasers."

The danger seems greatest now, and I realize that it's emanating from the strange girl, Elizabeth. Still, Torrus breaks out of spirit ball mode for just a minute. "The Releasers... what do you want to release? What's your goal?"

"What do you think it means, priest?" Elizabeth asks with obvious contempt. "I don't need to explain myself to my enemies--they will find out our philosophy after battle, when they leave the land of the living." She raises her scythe in a combat position. I don't really understand what she's saying, but remember that she called us here to fight. I raise my spear and shield, and Rukh positions himself near me.

"Wait!" Lu Han says. "What do you want? You can't just want to fight us. What's your goal here?"

She smiles simply, and a chill larger than any other runs up my spine. "Death." Elizabeth raises her spare hand, and what seems to be the ghost of a child appears beside her.

Lu Han gasps. "That's the girl from my dreams!"

Elizabeth chuckles silently. "Marion, lend me your power!" Dark tendrils stretch out from the young girl and seem to infuse Elizabeth. She throws her head back, closing her eyes as if drinking in the energy of her ghost. My spiritual sense starts going off heavily. She regards us again. Crap! I've gotta integrate!

Rukh is already ahead of me, and he slams into my chest, as my hands are full. Integration this way is a bit jarring, but I've trained with it. Beside me, Lu Han and Torrus are integrating. The speed integration ends up saving me as Elizabeth rushed right at us, her fancy black dress almost blurring with inhuman speed. We barely raised out shield to block the scythe strike in time, and dance back, trying to buy room.

Lu Han rushes her, trying to catch her off guard, but Elizabeth seemingly effortlessly swings her scythe in a deadly arc his way, stopping him in his tracks. We use this opportunity to thrust forward with our spear, but she merely jumps back, flying too high through the air before landing where she began.

We charge recklessly, as Lu Han stands behind us for backup. With a spin of her scythe, she blocks our spear with the handle of her scythe, pushing it aside before stabbing towards us with the blade. Awkwardly, we throw our shield in front of the weapon, barely blocking the attack. Then, feeling something coming, we spin to the side to allow Lu Han's Mercurial Arrow to past through, flying directly to the Releaser girl.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth also felt the spiritual disruption caused by the attack. She jumped back, then bounced off the wall, and the attack froze plaster. Momentarily stunned at her kung-fu-like agility, we're momentarily taken aback when she lands in front of us again and spins her scythe towards us. Fortunately, she landed farther away than she had thought, so a small cut on our flank is the only damage--but it *hurts*. I want to clutch the wound in pain, but Rukh sees a golden opportunity.

We reach out and traps the blade of the scythe with our shield. Elizabeth gasps and tries to pull away. It's too late. We thrust forward, hoping for an impaling (despite my squeemishness), but at the last second she twists to the side, pulling her scythe out from our shield. Our spear catches one of the frills on her dress and tears it, exposing a band of smooth flesh that would be tantalizing in other circumstances.

*"Mercurial Arrow!"* Lu Han proclaims, and he finally hits his mark. Elizabeth cries out as ice coats over her body, and while something stops her from being completely frozen her ivory skin has now turned a sick shade of pink, as if frost-bitten. She staggers back, and we take the opportunity to smack her in the face with our shield. Lethal force won't be necessary. Elizabeth falls to the ground, smacking her head on the pavement.

*"It's not over!"* Lu Han warns as he dashes to the ground where she fell. In his hand, he is holding a holy symbol, the (medical coat of arms), glowing with spiritual power. He slams the (insert) onto Elizabeth's fallen form, and power crackles against her body. I feel my bonds with Rukh being worn away just from his spell. *"Ghost, depart from this shaman's flesh and surrender unto my magic! Excorsism!"*

There's a pause. Is it gone? Lu Han stands up and raises his hands--an all clear sign?

Before we can respond, the blunt end of Elizabeth's scythe smacks him in the jaw, and she stands up with renewed vigour. She's definitely still integrated, but instead of attacking she lets lose with a laugh--a light, tinkling giggle, as one would expect on a young girl or a noble. "Idiot."

"Stay," Rukh instructs me, despite my best instincts.

Elizabeth waves her scythe around like a prop, and we notice her spirit's energy gathering on it. "Marion is no ordinary human ghost. She is a spirit, but not of nature--she is one generated by human emotion, by tragedy, by our own hellish world. Marion is the symbol of childhood tragedy, of lost innocence. My sadness, and that of yours-- Natsume. That of many at this academy. Except for you, Lu Han. Marion found nothing in your dreams. My target was initially only you, but that involved him as well."

Lu Han looks like he's about to respond, and we are about to ask her how she knows my name, but Elizabeth waves her scythe and all falls silent. Speaking seems unthinkable. "Don't be sorry. I'm not envious of you. In fact, I pity you." She smirks, the corners of her black-toned lips turning upwards. "After all, you are stuck on this wretched world, denied of death by those who hold your puppet strings. You will thank me, once you are in the next world. HADES'S TOUCH!"

I can't really describe what happens next. The end of her scythe turns into a silver streak, impossible to track, speeding around faster than sight. The hilt forms a black sphere, as if protecting the death from interference. Blood flies out in small arcs, and Lu Han's screams are always cut off before they can come to fruition. Anger and horror flows through me, as we grip the steel hilt of our weapon. Finally, Elizabeth ceases unemotionally, and the bald shaman falls to the ground in a pool of crimson.

I thank Rukh mentally once again as he propels us forward, though I pour my rage and emotion into the attack as well. Elizabeth turns her head, her mouth caught in a small 'o' as our spear is shoved into her gut, gore splaying out and onto my hand. With no further reaction, she topples back, the spirit known as Marion materializing as she hits the ground, eyes closed.

Is she still alive? Did I take a life. We de-integrate, and as Rukh keeps an eye on her, I head over to Lu Han. The sickening thought occurs to me: I may be the only survivor of this battle.

Fortunately, the Korean coughs, and slowly sits up. He isn't bleeding any longer, though there are cuts all over his body, and his uniform is generally shreds. He looks at me curiously. "She... she didn't hit any vital areas. That wasn't a killing blow."

Satisfied that he's safe, at least for now, I turn to Elizabeth's prone form--right as Rukh flies to me, assuming spirit ball form in guarding. I get the same feeling I got on the way here-- an eerie sense of impending doom, or at least a large spiritual presence. Then he steps into view. He is bearing no open weapon, but is wearing a loose robe which could be concealing anything. He has a handsome face and short black hair, and looks to be European as well, though not the same as Elizabeth.

This newcomer walks over to Elizabeth, sliding my spear out of her. I raise my shield, realizing that I don't have another weapon and Lu Han is highly vulnerable. But he doesn't seem to mind. The mysterious man picks her up, sliding one arm under her chest and the other beneath her knees to carry her. It would almost be romantic if not for the disapproving look on his face.

He looks towards me. "I wouldn't interfere. Elizabeth failed to release even one of you, but I could destroy you both with one stroke at this point. Suffice to say, she shall be... punished." A strange resentment wells up in me, but for the life of me I can't figure its source.

With a combination of fear and guardedness, both Lu Han and I sit like stone buddhas as the mysterious man walks away into the darkness of the parking lot, the mysterious lady reaper in his hands. Finally, after he's gone, and his presence has faded, we stop being tense and almost fall straight onto our faces.

"Well that was... interesting," Lu Han says, tiredly.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he shrugs it off. "It'll hurt like hell in the morning, though."

"The morning." I wince--there always does have to be a morning after, and in this case it'll be hard to hide our battle, with Lu Han full of gashes like he is. But more pressing problems concern me--namely, who was she? Who are the Releasers? And what does it all mean? To think, shamans once seemed complicated to me...