Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Forbidden Empire ❯ Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Sweltering heat was the first thing that Ken noticed about the rainforest. Then came the noise- everywhere, sounds and screams and chattering that gradually faded into white noise when one's concerns were set elsewhere.

It wasn't as easy as it seemed, though.

KEEYAAAH! KEEYAAAH! YAHA-HAHAHAH!

KeRAW! KeRAW! HOO! HOOHOHOHOO!

The bugs were the worst, he decided, swatting at a mosquito the size of his hand. The blood-sucking insects were accompanied by gnats, flies, and other flying things that the brown-haired youth didn't even want to look at, let alone identify. And all of them converged in swirling clouds that followed the small party wherever they went. They'd get a short reprieve every once in awhile, when the cloud would rise above them for no apparent reason, but mostly it was the same thing for hours on end- bugs crawling on him, in him, his ears, nose, mouth. He was infinitely glad when he remembered the netting he had packed and gratefully attached it all along the rim of the hat Yohji had given him earlier.

Ken hadn't realize how unusual this outing really was until they'd actually emerged from the small, 2-passenger aircraft that had brought them to the small airstrip that ran for a little under seven hundred feet- a peculiar addition to the small fishing village surrounding it. There was no big group of archaeologists- just he and Yohji- and the newest addition of their guide, Ernesto, and a small crew of natives who had offered to carry what little instruments the blonde said they needed.

At first, making their tedious way through the Amazon, Yohji had been happy to explain things to his longtime friend- how this wasn't actually a dig, per say, but more of a venture to unlock the mysteries of the site they were to spend two whole weeks at. The natives called it "Diabo Blanco", meaning "White Devil", and believed it was cursed. The curse was the reason no archaeologists had been able to dig there- the natives had no want of digging up and possibly angering the fierce spirits of the area, and, in fact, no sane person would stay there for long. Ernesto had been the only person available who would stay with them the whole time.

The blonde had lapsed into uncharacteristic silence then, already feeling the effects of their surroundings; the heat and humidity in the air seemed to suck the moisture right out of them, and each breath was fought for, like breathing through a straw. Before the first hour was out, both Yohji and Ken had finished a liter of the bottled water they had been advised to bring. With all the greenery around- wet leaves in their faces, creepers that seemed to reach up and deliberately try to trip them, sharp-edged plants that cut their hands as they pushed past- Ken would have thought that there would have been water everywhere; but no, the ground beneath their feet was dry and bare except for a covering of dead and decomposing foliage. All the plants absorbed the moisture before it could ever hope to reach the ground.

It wasn't long before Ken's legs began to feel limp from the strain of the heavy pack he carried and the miles they had brought him over, and his lungs begged for air. The small breaks they did have were unsatisfying in more than one way- they were short, came less than not-too-often, and, upon stopping, their feet were almost instantly covered with huge red ants or giant centipedes or other foreign creatures that should not have been possible, but made him glad for the boots and long pants that Yohji had instructed him to wear, no matter how hot it may have been.

Beetles really shouldn't be as big as that yellow one had been, Ken decided wearily after one such pause, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from around his weary eyes.

And then it began to rain- and rain, and rain, and rain- and he realized now why it was called the rainforest. Most of the moisture didn't reach to their level, so all their tired bodies would feel was the steady, annoying drip drip drip of small droplets- and then, without warning, they'd enter under a hole in the mostly solid green sky, and it was like someone was pouring buckets of ice cold water down on them from the heavens, dousing them instantly.

A tiring, grueling three hours after they had begun, and the group stumbled wearily into what might have passed as a clearing. Ken's feet, barely lifting off of the ground now, tripped over a sudden rise in the ground- a step. An ancient, eroded step, but a step nonetheless.

He didn't care, though. Even when Yohji let out a strangled gasp and Ken's eyes followed the jade gaze to a stone monument that was so incredible it was awe-inspiring, he didn't care. He didn't care that the temple pyramid had to be over five hundred feet tall, he didn't care about the interesting-looking hieroglyphs fading upon its surface, he didn't care that the clearing was actually grass growing over what looked to be an old stone platform. He didn't even care when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the natives motioning with their hands- a quick, fluid movement across the front of the body that he had figured out was a ward against evil. All he wanted was to collapse in his tent and his pillow- his sodden pillow, but still a comforting thought- and fall into the deep embrace of sleep.

But even that was put on hold, as Ernesto had them both go and collect dry wood for a fire, and after that it took him forever to erect his tent in the zombie-like state he was in, eyes drooping and fingers clumsy. He finally had to ask the help of one of the three whom had accompanied them with their supplies, and, after much gesturing and miming, he had gotten the thought across. Communication across cultures and language barriers. Yippee for him.

The mat and pillow behind the mosquito netting inside the finally-set-up tent looked overly inviting, and he gratefully slipped behind the net and set himself down, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillow- which was probably a good thing, for the wet plop that the connection made against the side of his face would have wrenched anyone from a sleep-induced haze.

-----

Fire.

Her grip on the green vine growing off of the tall tree tightened hatefully, and her eyes narrowed to small slits. There were people in the forest.

Intruders.

Her mouth thinned. He would know about this. He would have to.

And then he'd do something about it.

-----

Ken awoke hours later, much refreshed, to the sound of fire crackling pleasantly and the enticing smell of something delicious cooking. The jumping firelight off of the inside of the navy blue tent was pretty, he thought, and also- the sun had set; it was cooler than before. Lucky him.

It was still damned hot.

The smell of cooking got to him quickly, and he patted his growling stomach, trying to assuage it until he could find something to fill it with. Maybe some of what whatever was cooking, or, if it wasn't ready yet, some crackers from his pack.

Pushing aside the netting and unzipping the tent flaps, he realized just what a Godsend it was, as bugs instantly assaulted him. Ugh. Errant bangs fell into his eyes as he shook his head, trying to shoo the annoying insects away, and he absently flipped the pieces of hair back into their usual place.

He noticed the moon had risen, but something else- something much more prominent- caught his eye soon after that. In the moonlight, with firelight dancing at its base, the great stone pyramid seemed even more majestic than he remembered from his first glance. It almost looked to be constructed of an otherworldly type of shimmering silver- very eerie... and wait, what was that light, at the mount? Some sort of reflection of moonlight, obviously, but off of what?

"Ah, so I see you are awake at last," Ernesto's rich, accented tones brought him back to reality in a rush, and he realized he had been standing, frozen in the doorway of his tent- and letting all the be-damned bugs in. Sigh.

At the words, Yohji's head turned from where he had been staring absently into the fire, and the blonde smiled at his friend, firelight accenting his fine-boned features even more so than usual.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Hidaka. Have a nice nap?" the light, teasing tones didn't quite hide the fact that the jade-eyed youth had not slept all day, even after the workout he had gotten earlier. Ken noticed a stack of their supplies and things over to his right- where the others must have set them before they left; they weren't getting paid enough to stay the night here- as he made his way to sit next to Yohji on the jutting rock the blonde perched on- elegant as ever, even when worn out, Ken noted, nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of cigarette smoke. He smiled gratefully at Ernesto when the man handed him a tree branch stripped of its bark with something raw on the end, thrusting the end full into the roaring fire. He wanted to make sure the thing was cooked all the way through before he even tried to eat it.

"I have managed to catch us a rabbit," the native man explained of the skinned thing that had been divided between three branches. "Not all of the forest is harmful to everyone."

"You didn't have to, Ernesto," Ken replied, trying not to sound ungrateful, "We have crackers and such to last us."

"Ah, but man cannot live on bread alone, my friends." A misplaced metaphor if he had ever heard one, but the twenty-year-old soccer player refused to comment.

After a moment of contented silence, Ken ventured a question, "So, Yohji, what exactly are we planning on doing tomorrow?"

"Well, like I said, it's not a conventional dig we've set out to do." The blonde glanced at their companion, then turned back to grin at his friend. "We're just gonna look around a bit at first, stuff like that. Maybe go a little deeper into the thing than just the altar area at the mount, you know. This isn't like any type of temple you may have read about before. It wasn't built by any tribe we know and talk about today."

And that was all he would say at that moment, preferring to do the rest of the explaining in broad daylight, when they had all "rested up some". Ken thought Yohji just liked to tease him by feeding him enticing bits and pieces of information instead of the whole thing all at once.

Dinner went along silently, save for the crackling of the flames and the occasional burst of breath as Ken would blow air out of his nose and twitch it reflexively, trying to keep the buzzing little gnats out- awkward, that.

As Ken made a move to rise from his rocky perch after the meal- a meal that was very good, he had to admit- Ernesto suddenly and carefully seized his eyes with his own piercing black gaze. "I would advise against going out on your own tonight, señors." He warned gravely, "The forest can be very dangerous for those inexperienced."

The brown-haired youth nodded, a silent agreement, and made his way back to his tent, casting one last glance at the moonlit pyramid- it was so creepy, so unearthly surreal- before letting the flaps close behind him for the night.

-----

An inhuman shriek of mutual protest- or was that a warning?- startled Ken awake towards the middle of the night; he jerked and sat bolt upright, eyes wide in the suffocating darkness. His breathing was ragged in his ears, and he strained his hearing to catch sound of whatever had wakened him. His heart returned to it's normal pace when none came, but he could not push back the stifling fear that had caught hold of him.

His tense body literally jumped when something scraped against the side of his tent and a shadow fell across the outside, but a soft, reassuring voice reached him soon after.

"Señor, you will want to see this." Ernesto's voice was tense, and Ken wondered if he had heard the same thing.

The night's last sliver of moonlight danced across his features as he poked his head through the flaps. "Yes, Ernesto? What is it?" The man just gestured calmly for them to follow, and Ken noticed Yohji standing just to his right, still clothed in black silk nightclothes and absently swatting at hovering flies, as he reluctantly obeyed. What could be so important that their guide would summon them so late at night?

"I think the old dog thinks he saw a forest spirit or something as ridiculous," Yohji commented, hushed voice carrying a note of humor even as he followed at a leisurely pace.

They were making their way towards Ernesto's tent, Ken noticed at last, eyes blinking almost blindly in the jungle darkness. It was not until they were almost on top of the forest-green tent that the other two saw what the native had been getting at. They both stared at it in silence for a moment, sleepy incomprehension clouding their minds.

There, at almost eye level, were what appeared to be four elongated holes cut into the fabric of the tent. Why would Ernesto do something like that to his own tent?

A sudden, cooling breeze whirled up around them, and the strips between the cuts flapped lazily in it, as Ken abruptly and fearfully realized what the holes really were.

Claw marks.

He hadn't realized that he had said that aloud until, next to him, Yohji jerked in surprise, glancing at him, wide green eyes now alert and cleared from the bondage of sleep.

"What?!"

But Ernesto only nodded gravely, eyes intense. "Yes. These are claw marks; those of a jaguar, no less. Now you see why I had advised you not to wander. The spirits are restless tonight."

Ken shoved the urge to comment that the jaguar had come to them, not the other way around, and that jaguars were real, living creatures, not dead things, and instead just nodded, words lost to him at the moment. It wouldn't do to mock the old guy's gods, after all; he might leave them here by themselves to fend on their own. Yohji seemed to sense what his friend was thinking as well, for he kept silent as they helped their guide patch up the holes with masking tape, and then left for their separate tents, minds made up to put off thinking about the night's events until it was over.

-----

KOO-WAH! KOO-WAH! WHOO!

SEE-YAW! SEE-YAW! HOOHAWHOO! HA!

He gradually woke to the lovely chorus of the rainforest with an immense headache that pounded insistently in the back of his skull. Oh, the day was beginning so grandly already! What a glorious morning indeed!

Note the sarcasm, people.

Ken groaned and tried to roll over, instead getting impossibly tangled in the netting around his bed. It seemed even louder than yesterday, he thought sleepily. The monkeys were probably taking bets on how long the dumb suburban soccer player and his pals would last.

Finally, he forced his aching body to move, now totally feeling the effects of the long hike yesterday on his prone form and forgetting his throbbing head for the moment. With another loud groan of protest, he shook his arms free of the encompassing net and stood up, stretching like a cat- full body, even down to his toes- and yawning- a jaw-cracking yawn. Ooh, that felt nice. Soothe those aching muscles. It made him feel light-headed.

What time was it, anyway? He couldn't tell much, but from the degree of heat in his sleeping quarters, it was probably only mid-morning. Time to get to work.

Suffocating humidity met him as he ventured outward, spotting Yohji digging carefully through one of the packs. And another thing, something he hadn't noticed in light of the sensory overload he had gone through yesterday- the smells. Overly sweet flowers, tropical rot, natural perfume and the stink of dying things assaulted his nose. He blinked and sneezed violently, trying to clear his suddenly watering eyes with rapid twitches of his eyelids.

Across the clearing, Yohji turned at the rather loud exhalation of breath, grinning when he saw who it was. "You're up early today. What brings you to the land of the living at this hour, Ken?" he teased, and Ken teased right back.

"Me? Look who's talking, Mr. 'I'm-Never-Up-Before-Noon' Kudou. Never though I'd see the day." He shook his head ruefully and went over to rummage in his own pack for a quiet moment, finally revealing a pencil and a handful of paper. "We won't be needing much, right? Just making some observations?" the blonde nodded and, after a short farewell to Ernesto, they left for the temple. The native had offered to cook them breakfast, but they refused, thinking to put it off until they had returned.

There were more steps than there originally seemed, Ken noted, panting as they made their way to the summit. As the two ascended, the tall trees seemed to crowd around them, cutting off all apparent access to the campsite. It was like another place up there, and, when Ken closed his eyes, he could almost believe that the ancient civilization that had come to ruin so long ago was still here, alive and well. He grinned inwardly at that sentiment and continued upwards, Yohji just ahead as the blonde picked the safest path for them both up the cracked and eroded stone steps.

They were both gasping for air by the time they reached the entrance to the sheltered altar room. "Next time... let's take... the elevator..." Yohji wheezed, and Ken giggled semi-hysterically (for lack of air to the brain) for a moment as they tried to get their bearings, not to mention their breath, back.

When that was done, they traded relieved glances, then burst into a relaxing laughter that seemed to be swallowed up by the too-green foliage surrounding- almost suffocating- them. It lightened the mood, and helped them to not feel so anxious about going into such a place, though neither of them cared to admit that it gave them an odd, shivery feeling inside.

Inside, away from the harsh glare of the sun through clouds of steamy jungle air, it was cooler- so much so that Ken absently shivered as he looked around. The brown-haired boy was amazed at what he saw- for being even older than the pyramids in Egypt, it looked far beyond what was expected. The design was beautiful and classy, something not as easily seen on the weathered outside. There was an almost perfectly rectangular stone block in the center of the small room that Ken assumed to be the altar to whatever god had been favored here, and elaborate paintings adorned the walls. Small, square holes of about 5 inches long and wide formed minute tunnels leading somewhere no human could possibly go in the temple, and Ken shivered again just looking on them. Something was... weird about this place. Something Ken couldn't quite put his finger on.

Yohji followed him in, leaning casually against the stone altar. "Impressive, isn't it? I told you it wasn't the garden variety." Ken nodded absently, getting that sinking feeling in his stomach, like someone or something was watching him.

He ran light fingers across the rough surface of the altar, then jerked back convulsively, hissing lowly from the sharp pain. Something had burned against his fingertips. A steady glare at the pad of his pointer finger revealed the single drop of crimson blood that was already welling up. He winced and discreetly wiped it off on his pants, not wanting to worry his blonde friend, who might want him looked at for mysterious jungle diseases or something. No need to worry; it was just a small prick, after all. No harm done.

"Wanna hear the vague but troubling history?" Yohji continued, back turned to Ken as the taller youth studied the inscriptions above the doorway for a moment before turning back to watch his friend's reactions.

"Mm." This place gave off an aura of ancientness, of old things left for new- or of lethal, wizened magic waiting quietly for a last chance to erupt in a final show of immense power. Like a sleeping giant that could be awakened suddenly by a single tentative, misplaced step.

The blonde smirked at how much his friend was immersed in the place, but continued. "Well, apparently there was an ancient civilization here- that much's a given- but it wasn't any we've ever heard of. It's reminiscent of the Mayan culture, but also has it's own uniqueness that's quite peculiar. Also, the Maya didn't live anywhere near here, so it's not probable that this was just a small branch of them. The closest tribal nation were the Inca, but even they didn't gain power until 500 AD, and all signs point that this was a very rich nation that was destroyed over two thousand years ago, in about 100 BC or so. Local legend says that the whole city was inhabited by demons or some such thing. White devils, like the name. This..." and he gestured grandly around in one sweeping motion that encompassed all, "-this was their great temple, the largest one in about a hundred miles. I know that much, at least. It was to the Sun god, whose name they later shared with the Inca- Inti, I believe. Legend has it that barbarians, wielding weapons of dark magic that the people couldn't fight against, came one day and attacked the unsuspecting city, reducing all but this site to a pile of ash in less than three days. Then-"

A crash from outside interrupted the history lesson, and they both looked, wide-eyed in the sudden adrenaline rush, to the entrance. A pregnant pause, then, "I'll go check that out. You stay here and get to work, hm? I think if you manage to translate those hieroglyphs, we'd learn a lot." Ken nodded and leaned down, eyes already riveted to the picture writing, as the blonde left him, shaking his head ruefully at the intensity of his friend.

Moments passed, and the brown-haired boy gradually became aware of the unnerving silence around him. No monkeys chattering, no birdcalls, no mysterious, unnamed beast grunting as it tried to get a quick lunch of something that didn't want to be lunch today- nothing. And he had that feeling- that feeling like someone was watching him, again. The air was hot around him, smothering him, as if he had his face buried in a downy blanket.

Footsteps, behind him; almost silent in their approach, but not quite.

"Yohji?" he winced as his voice cracked, but he couldn't seem to manage it.

A light touch on his shoulder; a girl's denying voice, whispering in his ear...

"Qantaqa." A breathless, murderous, hating, smirking giggle; he whirled and saw nothing.

"Y-...Yohji?" desperate, now.

Footsteps, this time going away from him. He had a sudden urge to follow them, and didn't question it. He dropped his pad of paper and his pencil, letting them fall with muted sounds to the ground, and crept around the altar, listening intently to the footsteps as they left through the door.

Another giggle floated back to him. 'You're in for it now'; it seemed to whisper, to taunt. 'He is here.'

Fading. It was fading. He hurried forward, and through the entryway; the sun blinded him, and he blinked in frustration, a million sounds suddenly assaulting his straining ears all at once.

The blindness cleared, and he looked forward, trying to see- or hear- something, anything. Where did she go? What had happened?

A low curse, in a liquid tongue; a black-tipped spear was pointed at his throat.

-----

Nozomi