========================================================================= DISCLAIMER: This is one part of a multi-part story. It has been modified as a .txt document for the Tenchi Muyo! Fan Fiction Archive (www.tmffa.com) and can be viewed with its original bold/italics at FanFiction.Net (www.fanfiction.net). "Tenchi Muyo!", Washu, and all related images and properties are (c) Pioneer and AIC Animation. This is a work of fan-fiction. The author has received no monterary compensation. Any attempt to profit from this document in any way is punishable by law. To leave feedback, send fan-art, or make arrangements to host this fic on your website, please contact me at takisjoh@msu.edu ========================================================================= WASHU'S LULLABY A "Tenchi Muyo!" Novel by John Takis ========================================================================= - PRELUDE - ========================================================================= Once honored by the world, she is now like a widow; All night long she cries; tears run down her cheeks Of all her former friends, not one is left to comfort her. Her allies have betrayed her; they hold her in their power. Her children have been captured and taken away. -- From The Sorrows of Jerusalem; Leviticus 1 * * * "Brother!" The girl ran. Air so cold it burned filled her lungs with every ragged breath. Her short legs worked furiously against the deep snow. The icy crust bit and slashed against her bare knees, leaving pale torn skin where the snow wiped clean the thin ribbons of blood. Her arms were somewhat more protected by a thick shawl that had been pulled on with haste over a thin nightgown, now tattered from the knees down. Her feet were bare; the slippers lost somewhere in the white drift behind her. Her toes were numb with cold, and tears were frozen at the corners of her eyes. Still, she sloughed forward with a determined intensity, eyes straining as they searched the white haze. "Brother!" The cry sent her into a fit of coughing. Phlegm rattled in the back of her throat, an indication of the disease that filled her lungs. Sagging with exertion, she stumbled. The numbness in her legs and the depth of the snow prevented her from regaining her balance, and she fell sideways into a large bush, landing on her back, snow nipping at the backs of her burning ears and seeping into her golden hair. She was only four years old. "Brother," she whispered, in a childlike show of desperation. Had she lost him forever to the white landscape? She had seen him from her sick- bed, playing outside in the sno., A year his junior, she had watched over him with a jealous love as he raced about the yard. His game was a solitary snowball war: packing fistfuls of snow, tossing them into the air, then chasing after. But one snowball had not come down. It had continued to defy gravity, floating -- as if it had a mind of its own -- to the edge of the yard and into the wooded depths of the estate. He had gone after it, and fear had filled her as it never had before. "There’s magic in those woods," her mother had often told her. "Take care not to wander away, or you might never come back." The house was vast, and there had been no time to find her mother. The girl had thrown off her bed-sheets and raced downstairs, pausing only to grab a thick shawl from beside the door. At first, she had attempted to follow her brother's tracks, but there was a wind, and the snow was moving in shifting patterns across the surface of the land. White mist had seemed to spring up from nowhere, reducing her visibility to mere yards. This had only made her more certain that her brother was in danger, and she'd pressed on. But now, many minutes later, frozen and bruised, lying on her back beneath a bush, she was beginning to despair of ever finding him. What was more, she herself was lost. She had never ventured this far beyond the yard before; she had no idea where she was, or even how long or she had traveled or what distance. Dried as her eyes were by the arid cold, she felt fresh tears begin to well up. Then she heard voices, surprisingly near. One was unfamiliar ... high and gentle and melodious. The other belonged to her brother. Her heart racing, she struggled to her feet. She turned towards the source of the sounds, on the opposite side of the bush. Through a thick cluster of stripped branches, not fifteen feet away, stood her brother. His features were plainly visible against his pale skin, in contrast to her own bronze complexion, so that the expression of enchanted wonderment he wore was clear. The object of his awe filled her with an icy apprehension that froze her far more effectively than the weather. It was a woman, tall and thin, shrouded in black. Snow followed cloudlike where she moved, causing her form to ripple and distort like a mirage. As she approached, her features seemed to become more distinct, until at last her face was clearly distinguishable. The girl gaped. It was a beautiful face -- more so than any she had ever seen ... more beautiful, even, than her mother’s. She wore a high collar and hat to protect against the snow, but neither could contain her length of hair. Her aspect was so ghostly, her expression so sorrowful, that the girl knew without question who stood before her. It was the Lady of the Snow. Everyone knew the legend. She had heard it many times in the hours before sleep. Long ago, during an unusually long summer, a young boy had wandered off from his mother to play. She'd turned her back, trusting in the hospitality of the elements, and the boy had vanished into the green. Winter had come that very afternoon, turning the landscape white and burying any trace of the child. His mother, bereaved and consumed by grief, had never stopped looking for him. She had walked into the snow and never returned, wandering the hills and valleys until the wind and ice had consumed her physical body. But her spirit remained, returning with the snow, searching for lost children. And if she ever came across a little boy, she would take him for her own and he would never be seen again. The lady smiled at the girl's brother, and sadness lifted like a veil from her large eyes. She knelt down and picked up the snowball where it had fallen. She held it out to him with an ungloved hand. "This is yours, isn’t it?" Captivated, he took it. His eyes never left hers. "Thank you ... very much," he whispered. The girl’s mind was numb with fear. There was something about the way the two faced each other. There was something easy about it ... something preternatural. Her brother never stood so with their mother. She decided it was some sort of enchantment. The air grew still, and a silence settled over the snow. There was no sound of wind; no birdsong; not even the quiet rustle of trees. Then the lady stretched out her hand for the boy. As if in a dream, he smiled and reached out with his own hand. the girl thought frantically. She tried to call out, but her voice would not work. It was as if time had stopped. But as hard as she struggled, she could not move as much as a single finger. Her eyes began to glisten with fresh tears. And just as the two figures' hands were about to meet, a warm tear spilled down her cheek. "Brother!!" The moment shattered. The girl stumbled forward and the boy returned to himself, shaking his head as if waking from a deep sleep. "Miyuki!" He rushed to his sister. "Brother!" The boy looked at her with concern. Taking off his cloak, he draped it over her shoulders. "You should be in bed. Didn't mother tell you so?" "Brother!" she cried again, clasping him in small, strong arms. With hard, defiant eyes she glared up at the lady's face. "Don’t take him!" Then Miyuki saw the expression of grief written on the woman’s face. It was a sorrow so poignant, so tangible that the great anger burning in her young heart vanished entirely. "I'm ..." she stammered, her voice choked with a sudden and inexplicable guilt. "I'm ... so ... so-sorry ..." The words would not come. "Miyuki-sama! Miyuki-sama!!" It was her mother’s voice. The girl could hear the fierce crunching of snow as her father’s guards charged through the distant trees. The lady ignored the disturbance. Her gaze never left the children, lingering for a moment on the boy, then drifting to Miyuki. The girl found she could not look away. "I'm sorry," she whispered tearfully. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She sank her chin against her brother's shoulder, repeating the apology over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Such was the effect of the snow lady's countenance. "I'm not mad at you," the boy said, bewildered. He gave her a comforting pat on the head. Miyuki tried to look away, certain that to continue to stare meant help- lessness. She'll take him away forever and ever ... The sound of the guards drew closer. And then, abruptly, the spell was broken. A flurry sprang up and covered them. Everything turned white. And above the wind, she heard the snow lady's voice sound clearly and sadly: "Good-bye, my son." In shock, Miyuki looked up. The lady smiled back at her, red hair rippling, eyes a bright emerald green. They were her brother’s eyes. Then the face melted into the snow and was gone. ========================================================================= CONTINUED IN: Washu's Lullaby - Prologue =========================================================================