Xiaolin Showdown Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Waters ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Warnings: AU! NOTHING IN THE SERIES EVER HAPPENED. Though the story will develop with many similar concepts, as most what happened in the past is the same. Yaoi... lemon... lime... I'm debating on spurts of domestic violence... offensive dialog... all those, among other things! Sad, sad, sad ending as well. Well, 'sad' as defined in my dictionary.
Disclaimer: I do not own XS, nor do I profit. No suing.

Summary: AU! Yaoi: MAIN Chase/Omi. Shonen ai: Minor one-sided Rai/Omi, and some explicit hints of Chase/Jack. The world has been living in darkness, as the almighty ruler is none other than Chase Young. A world run by an evil prince, as you can expect, is none to beautiful a place. All embraces darkness as the concepts of evil, and cruelty are embedded into the foundation of this society. There is truly not a place where the Heylin ways do not lurk. Yet the world thrown into a place such as this still has hope...a small temple hidden form all these evils mask their light in the form of shadows, training...and gaining strength. Strength for a new tomorrow, a tomorrow of light over the land befouled in dark. What will happen when they finally release their resistance? Can they overcome the evil that shadows the world...or be lost in darkness' embrace?

Chapter 1 Page Count: 8 /Chapter 1 Word Count: 3,526
Dark Waters
By: Nasyki Ikysan
Chapter 1 (Prologue)

Scene One of One

Calm glassy eyes, dulled from time stared blankly out, unseeingly into the darkness. Black eyes reflecting nothing but the indistinguishable lack of light in their surroundings were wide in search for a light that wasn't there. Small pouty lips, frozen in an open slit stood just wide enough to run a piece of rice paper in, and out without being touched. Though now, the only thing that passed through them was the room's stale air, thick and moist with heat. Well fitting red robes clung steadfastly to his lithe frame, the color and uniform an unnecessary collar and chain to his lowly position in the social ladder. Clothed hand intertwined in clothed hand, open in an offer of empty air to no one rested lightly on his neatly folded legs.

...Hum...

Ahhh...

...Hummm...

Ah. ..

Deeply the petty fellow breathed in and out in an unsteady pattern that spoke wonders for the nature of humanity: imperfect. ...hum... air brushed slowly through the crack in his thin lips ahh... the air returned with tranquil ease to the room around. His rounded head was bowed slightly, but his back remained straight and stiff in the small space about him. His small, delicate frame sat perfectly still; even as he breathed there wasn't the slightest quiver in his stature. Each time he took a breath the only inkling there was to the matter that he was still breathing, was the ...hummm... followed by a releasing ahhh... as his cherubic cheeks attempted to hold more air than he let out.

Silence...

The room was dark, diminutive; even through his prolonged exposure to the small enclosure of space where there was nothing but the constricting darkness...the listless lightlessness was beginning to get to him.

His mind stirred under the deathly still that was slowly encasing him like the five flat surfaces that were his cage. The way that he sat now, how he sat now reminded him of stories he had heard when he was young. The flat voice of his old, wise Master still spoke to him with aplomb ease,

'Long ago when the world was lush with the deep greens of nature, bright with the vibrant colors of Earth's godly flowers...whence the sun would shine down in a praising smile to the peoples' below, one could be at peace. It was a time when religion could be preformed without worry of death, and as such, there were ways for people to get more in-tuned with the nature that was the all giving of the world around us. Through my years of learning, I have found there to be many ways to complete the task...and with my knowledge of all these ways I have heard, there is only one way to truly be at peace of soul while becoming completely in-tuned to Mother Earth for all eternity.

'It is a painstakingly long procedure...but Omi...if I ever live to an age where the world is no longer ruled by the Heylin ways...it is the way I would wish to die. You are young, and I would doubt that you could understand the mind of an old man like me. You probably think you want to live forever, or that death is so far you need not concern yourself with such a fleeting matter. But when you live as long as I have...death is just the beginning to a new adventure.

'How it is done is for two years...you live off of nothing but different types of nuts and berries...I have heard you can also eat different types of tree bark, you walk up in the mountains for three miles every day...and you pray deeply to your god...after this, your body becomes very naturally related making it very hard for your body to decompose, but you are also very in-sync with your inner chi and the gods around you. It is then, when your time is up and your body has been cleansed for all that time that you have a cave-like place prepared somewhere in the mountains...you sit in a stance of meditation...and you wait to die.

'You wait to be at peace with all the world.'

Omi's mind had begun to wonder as he had looked into his Master's longing gaze. There was a long thoughtful pause where the old Master seemed to freeze for that moment in time. The moment seemed to burn on forever and when Omi was convinced he would say no more, he was caught off guard as the old man's mouth moved on its own accord.

'It was a type of self-inflicted mummification used in ancient times in China.'

He shivered in the darkness though it was not cold. The old Master was right about one thing, he didn't understand why someone would wait for death, but he did not want eternal life, nor did he think death was to far away to concern himself with. He had been taught, and knew well that things such as these were never offered on a balanced scale. Yet to this day, years after the conversation, he did not understand why his Master would want to do something so horrible to himself...even now he couldn't begin to comprehend what was so appealing about the idea. Even so, he would never forget the look on the elder man's face.

At the time the conversation had arisen, they had been training in one of the back rooms of the Xiaolin Temple, hidden into the base of some mountain on the out-skirts of the capital city, Sho Huang. This room was one of the large training quarters, set deeply into the carved cavern that held the secrets of a defying race. It was out of the way of damaging the temple, and roughly covered a one-mile radius. The only thing that lit the expansive room was a few torches scattered hither and thither, and the moss that had been in the cave before the temple had. The strange glowing moss that covered most of the mountain and gave it its ethereal glow. With the limited amount of light, there was little that could be seen, you could not see how far the ceiling extended, nor where the walls began and ended. All there was to see was the haunting flicker of the open flame, casting monstrous shadows on the sharp rocks littered around the wide room, and the indefinable glow of the moss; both seemed to float in the darkness like fire-flies playing silently with the moon's beams in the velvet night, flying in and out of the long shadows cast by the clouds overhead.

The conversation had started sometime during one of their breaks after a particularly hard training session. The old Master had spoke with his usual cool tone, the one that had so many times told him to correct his form, and told him stories of the old ways...and the same voice that had spoken to him then, with true wonderment and longing. With the glow of the light on his pale and wrinkled face, he looked old. Very old, as though he had lived through a million life times and seen so many things...horrible things and had grown tired, tired of the constant pain that his life encountered, and tired of never winning.

It was the first time he had seen the man like that, looking...not wise and strong...but old and defeated, with the tiniest hint of want.

Several weeks after that conversation, he died of old age in his bed. Apparently his entire body had just given out one night. At the funeral Omi had looked at his face one last time hoping to see him smile with the happiness that he had wished for weeks before, to see him finally having reached his dream of being in-tuned to nature completely. But there was no smile that graced the old dead man's lips.

It was...not something he wanted to remember.

Inwardly Omi cleared his mind. That was all in the past; Master Fung was his master now. Anyways he hadn't remembered the old Master to think of his contorted face in death, he had thought of him to help the comparison to where and how he was sitting now.

When the old Master had spoke to him then he had gone into a deep description of the type of cave you needed to be preserved in, under some cases the room was large and expansive enough so that you could get up and move around in it...but in other cases the room was just large enough to get in and sit in a meditative stance. You couldn't get up and you could hardly breathe: how Omi sat now.

It was a strange comparison in Omi's mind, very morbid actually. Did he really feel like he was sitting here, waiting for death to come to him? Hardly. This wasn't a dangerous situation anyway.

Omi closed his sleep-deprived eyes and felt his consciousness grow hazy.

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad comparison. This was barely a room, and it had about as much leeway as the latter cave from the story...it was more easily put as a death-box than a room at all.

The small boy found the strands of sleep tying themselves around his being. How long had it been anyway? He'd lost count somewhere around 7,459,685 miss-a-sippy...that was roughly thirty-something hours... Yet, it seemed like a decade ago now, it was much longer ago at this time that he had been counting. Silently he wondered how long ago did it seem...

Stifling a yawn, as he tried to control his sleepiness, his large ball-like head jerked slightly to the left.

Liquid-fire boiled through his veins in the form of molten blood the density of lead; painfully his heart pumped the rocks through his body, holding him still with a sickening weight. His breath hitched suddenly as he bit down on his bottom lip attempting to stop its trembling. Slowly, at a snails pace a bead of crystal sweat ran down his cheek from his brow.

That was a close call.

Letting out a shaky breath knowing he was safe for the time being he twitched his head slightly, just enough so that it would go back to where it had been before, sure to mind the deadly spikes that completely surrounded him at every angle.

That was why the comparison had been so befitting earlier. It was a death-box he was sitting in. Though he was safe as long as he didn't move, with a single twitch he'd be an impaled monk.

Omi's cool and flowing being died down leaving him itching in anticipation. His dreamy state had been kicked into high gear and his mind was again racing.

This was very bad. In all the time he had been in this prison, he hadn't moved at all and at a rough estimate he sill had a good fifteen hours in this box. He had twitched already! And he still had all those hours...he began to doubt his mathematical skills and suddenly the only thing that was in his mind was 'Forty-eight hours...' Quickly the young boy mentally shook off the thought of time. Every time he thought of numbers it always returned there and didn't help his nerves at all.

This was bad...

He had moved. That would mean his body was beginning to grow weary of not moving... But if his body gave out before the time did...he was going to be...a holy monk!

Omi nervously sniggered at the innocent pun, trying a humorous rout to go about dissipating his nerves...it didn't work. He was still wound to a point he could not wined any more, on tip...and…he couldn't think of any more saying's to describe his predicament.

Those 8" spikes that protruded from all four walls and the ceiling sure were bothersome to ones mind. The fact that the sharp points were so close to him...he was lucky his head hadn't gone a centimeter more in that direction when he had twitched.

How long had it been again? How much longer did he have left? Was he going to make it?

The small boy felt his body begin to sweat. His hands were feeling warm and clammy through the material of the gloves he wore, and he was sure there was a glistening of wet against his head...well...that is to say if it weren't so dark there would be. His mind began to rush as his vision began to spin, swimming through the darkness.

More thoughts and worries began to pile up on his already over-stressed mind.

Taking a deep, though shaky breath he tried to calm his nerves and regain his bearings. Think about something else...think about something else!

Biting the inside of his cheek he cleared his mind as best he could. He needed to return to his meditative state...

Pause.

After a moment the youth sighed, he couldn't clear his mind enough. If he didn't find something to occupy his now wide-awake mind, he would surely begin to fidget. Shuffling through his mind for something to do that didn't require moving, or stirring emotions he found his lips moving, he began talking to his audience black in silence.

"My given name is Omi," his voice came out raspy and dry. He hadn't had anything to drink since he got in here, but his tone was also warn from its lack of use for...who knows how long now. He had calmed his mind, but he couldn't return to not thinking, he had to keep his mind off what was around him and what better way than a calming conversation with one's self? "But to a member of the rebel Xiaolin army, I am the Water Dragon --for more reasons that one may think." Omi shifted and let out a hiss as something was pressed against his leg sharply, a ripping sounded lightly through his open ears. Looking down the boy realized the sound came from his pants. His face paled as he noted the tip of a spike had ripped through the cloth. Even through the darkness he could tell that it hadn't gone through his skin. That would have made his stay in this place so much shorter... Trying to push past the distraction of the spikes and the emotions that would come with them, he returned to his monologue.

"I am an orphan that was taken in by the old Master. I know not what happened to my parents, but what he told me. The Heylin leader, Chase Young, killed them. Ever since I was brought into the Xiaolin Temple I have devoted myself to learning all that I could be taught, I have spent all of my time memorizing scrolls and perfecting martial art techniques. After all my time here, I have been told there is only one way to get revenge for my parents murder, killing their murderer.

"That is why I have trained so hard, and that is why I accepted the role as his assassin. I do not enjoy what the temple makes me go through in the name of training. Nor do I like understanding what the position as an assassin entails me to do, but to put my parents souls to rest I will do all I can to save them." Omi blinked lightly through the darkness ignoring the stinging in his eyes and the clenching feeling in his throat. He didn't want to think about where he was and get himself emotional, yet here he was talking about something that was getting him emotional! He had to think of something else that would keep his mind off of things more so that he could withdraw himself away from the words, he needed to tell a story that he could watch, uninterested as it passed him by.

"My training is almost done and I can go on my mission soon. I am very much looking forward to the adventure and I wonder what Chase Young is like. He is supposed to be the most evil creature in the entire world and everyone says all sorts of insane things about him. Things that do not make the least amount of sense that he is a demon born and bred straight from hell and that he goes on rampages in the form of a dragon-like creature. There are even some very strange things going about that he will live forever! Of course, as a very studious Xiaolin dragon, I know that these things are impossible, and even if the Masters' say it is so, I will not completely believe it until it is seen with my very own eyes." Omi smiled to himself at some of the ludicrous statements that had flown around about Chase Young. Statements that were made to make people fear him more, nothing else. "Chase is as old as the old Master now from what I have heard, and I have been able to beat this old Master on every occasion that I have battled him. I am sure that I will be able to beat him most easily..."

The small assassin in training frowned as his thoughts began to fumble around him, he couldn't follow his thoughts as everything began to mix in unrestrained confusion. His head dipped forward and he caught it with his hand just before he hit the spikes in front of him, "Arg…something is wrong..." the young boy mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing tightly together in pain. He-he couldn't see. Not that he should be able to with how dark it was...but there was something wrong with his vision...something...

Omi moaned into a gloved hand, his head hurt so bad, like someone just slammed it repeatedly against the rocks of the main training room. Digging the clothed nails of his other hand into his baldhead he tried to minimize the pain, whimpering under its overbearing force.

Something was so very wrong and his mind was simply seeing too zagzigy to think well.

The world kept on moving and he could have sworn that the walls were falling in on him, "I-I" he gasped and he held himself into a tight ball, "I-feel..." he stopped as his head had a severe pulsating sensation, "not well." Finishing lamely Omi opened his eyes to the darkness...

He couldn't remember what he had been thinking about. What had he been thinking about? And why was he here?

Looking around he saw the darkness and the sharp tipped spikes.

That was right he was in a training session...getting a taste of what it would be like to be tortured...but wait. Why where the walls closing in on him?

Omi moaned as his head proceeded to spin in blurry circles. His head throbbed in constraining convulsions as he opened his black eyes in delirium. A red flag went off somewhere in his mind that he wasn't going to last much longer in this box and that if he wanted to make it out in one peace he might need to pull the red sting to get someone to let him out. But the thought was embedded deeply into his subconscious and the thought alone was undecipherable to the rest of his body.

Looking around with a swift snapping of his head his breath proceeded into a more labored pattern. Feeling his body temperature rise, his limbs began to tremble uselessly around his body. Staring at the spikes in a trance like state, his mind numbed out. He had some strange erg to reach out and feel the cool spikes against his heated skin. The spikes began to call out to him, to reach, and touch, and his skin began to yearn for the feel of cool metal.

Closing his eyes tightly to block out the temptation that the gleam of steel tips let off; he pierced the air with an ear-splitting, bloodcurdling scream. Fighting the beckoning of delicious temptation.

His head hurt so bad and he wanted...no he didn't want...he knew it was bad to touch those spikes...even if he couldn't remember why it was bad...he needed to feel the spikes on his skin...pierce through his skin, so bad...so...so...bad...

Omi opened his eyes, intent on fulfilling the urge of touching the spinning wheel's needle; his blood burned, his head ached, and his skin cried desperately for it. Lifting one shaking hand he reached out for the darkness; just when he thought that he couldn't take it any more, a sudden light cut through the darkness in the form of splinters that held scorching intensity. The feeling alone left his eyes burning, burning as if he had touched them to open flame. They stung and watered as though thrown into the inferno of a blazing conflagration. He closed his lids against the light, and screamed again… Holding to him self, as there was no escape from the unknown burn; until his throat went horse, he screamed.

To be continued...
Nasyki: I am planning on making this a long fic so reviews make my world go round. (Currently 17 chapters have been planned, that’s not even one half of it.)

Summaries for upcoming chapters will be posted in my profile when new chapters are posted.
(Sum-Chapter 3 is up.)