Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ The Second Warlord ❯ The Second Warlord ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Killed Ideal 
Anubisu (Cale) is recruited by Rajura (Dais) to join the Dynasty and serve Arago (Talpa). Updated.
Anime/Manga: Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.25.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 686 | Status: Completed
Anubisu (Cale) is recruited by Rajura (Dais) to join the Dynasty and serve Arago (Talpa). Updated.
Anime/Manga: Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.25.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 686 | Status: Completed
Second Warlord
by Yami
Disclaimer: I do not own Yoroiden Samurai Troopers.
----
The smell of blood hung in the air, and so many of my friends and family already slept in the embrace of death. Before the battle, I had been more than willing to believe that death was impartial, but as I lay in the snow, my mind flailed with doubt. Empty armor that littered what little still-white snow there was stood as the only testament to the three of our enemy, their forces numbering at least five hundred, that our band of a hundred warriors had struck down. Queer smoke had filtered through their armor upon the fatal blows, and the armor had fallen lifeless. There was, and I could not imagine how, not even one enemy corpse to show for our sacrifice.
To out credit, there had been whispers that the army coming at us were demons. They were, without a doubt, not human, and they had drastically outnumbered us. They had, though, utterly destroyed our forces.
“Anyone,” I whispered. I tried to shout, but my battered body would not allow such a thing. As I managed to look around, more doubts choked me. Men younger, older, and my own age were all dead from less wounds than I had suffered. “Why,” I whispered, silently pleading for any of the gods to answer me, “am I still alive?” Suddenly, my blood ran cold as I heard the snow crunching. I tried to turn my head to investigate, but I could not manage to do even that.
“Find him,” an icy voice murmured. I knew that voice! That was the voice of the commander of those demon soldiers. “Whatever you do, make sure that he lives. Master Arago will be beyond angry if we let him die.”
For several moments, there was little sound. They had to be checking bodies. Who were they looking for? Who was Arago? Sadly, my inward questions were soon to be answered.
“Here,” that cold voice muttered, right by my ear. Two chilled fingers pressed against my neck, and he said softly, “Good. Pulse is fairly strong.” He clicked his tongue, and I felt hands on me, lifting me up. I tried to focus on the armored figures all around me, but my senses suddenly fled.
When I came back to reality, I felt both hot and cold. I was shivering, but there was sweat streaking my face. My breathing was harsh, but something calmed me. There was a damp cloth on my forehead, and someone was touching-- no, wrapping my chest and arms. Someone was caring for my wounds.
“There,” a voice came, “your wounds are bound. You still have a fever, but it’s going down.” I recognized the voice. It was the man that had led the demons. Yet, as I looked at him, it was hard to believe that he had been beneath that fearsome armor. He was sitting, so his height was hard to guess. He was lean, leaner than I was. His white hair would have made him look old if not for his sharp features. Two crystalline blue eyes watched me, seeming truly concerned about me.
“Who are you? Where am I?” I whispered. As I tried to sit up, the other pushed me back down into a laying position. He removed the washcloth from my forehead.
“My name is Rajura,” the other said calmly, talking to me as if I were a child. “I am the Dark Warlord of Illusion. You are in the Dynasty.”
“Why?”
“You were chosen to become the Dark Warlord of Darkness and Corruption and serve Master Arago,” Rajura explained.
“I serve the emperor,” I replied.
“You have two choices,” Rajura said. “You can either refuse Arago, and he will kill you. You could, on the other hand, join Arago. If you do, you will be given the mystical armor known as the Jackal Armor. With this armor, you will never age, and you will be able to fight forever.”
For several moments, I was silent. The choice was a grave one. Could I abandon all I had lived for? Yet, I was young, and death frightened me.
“Tell your master,” I said quietly, “that I will serve him.” The blue-eyed male smiled just a little as he took something from the pocket of his kimono. It was a small ball that glowed white, and a dark blue kanji shined on its center. “Obedience?” I read, and I looked to Rajura for an explanation.
“Each of the armors has a virtue. Mine is Endurance; yours is Obedience.”
He moved then, and he pressed the ball into my hand. For a moment, pain seared through my body, and I wanted to release the ball, but I couldn’t. Rajura rested a hand on my arm until I relaxed as the pain slipped away.
“The armor has bonded to your body. You may need to call it forward verbally for a year or so, but soon you will be able to mentally call it forth. You’ll need your kanji ball, and all you have to do is think about doing so to go into your sub armor. Once in your sub armor, you can call forth your Jackal Armor.” Rajura spoke slowly and soothingly, stroking my forehead and cheeks with that damp cloth. After a moment, he stood as he said, “I will tell my-- no, our master of your consent. He will call for you later. Get some rest… Oh. I never asked your name.” As he waited for my reply, he took a candle from a nearby stand and lit a few sticks that were not far away. As they smoked and filled the air with fumes that made me rather drowsy, I realized they were incense.
“Anubisu,” I responded sleepily.
“Rest well, Anubisu,” Rajura said before he either left or I succumbed to sleep.
by Yami
Disclaimer: I do not own Yoroiden Samurai Troopers.
----
The smell of blood hung in the air, and so many of my friends and family already slept in the embrace of death. Before the battle, I had been more than willing to believe that death was impartial, but as I lay in the snow, my mind flailed with doubt. Empty armor that littered what little still-white snow there was stood as the only testament to the three of our enemy, their forces numbering at least five hundred, that our band of a hundred warriors had struck down. Queer smoke had filtered through their armor upon the fatal blows, and the armor had fallen lifeless. There was, and I could not imagine how, not even one enemy corpse to show for our sacrifice.
To out credit, there had been whispers that the army coming at us were demons. They were, without a doubt, not human, and they had drastically outnumbered us. They had, though, utterly destroyed our forces.
“Anyone,” I whispered. I tried to shout, but my battered body would not allow such a thing. As I managed to look around, more doubts choked me. Men younger, older, and my own age were all dead from less wounds than I had suffered. “Why,” I whispered, silently pleading for any of the gods to answer me, “am I still alive?” Suddenly, my blood ran cold as I heard the snow crunching. I tried to turn my head to investigate, but I could not manage to do even that.
“Find him,” an icy voice murmured. I knew that voice! That was the voice of the commander of those demon soldiers. “Whatever you do, make sure that he lives. Master Arago will be beyond angry if we let him die.”
For several moments, there was little sound. They had to be checking bodies. Who were they looking for? Who was Arago? Sadly, my inward questions were soon to be answered.
“Here,” that cold voice muttered, right by my ear. Two chilled fingers pressed against my neck, and he said softly, “Good. Pulse is fairly strong.” He clicked his tongue, and I felt hands on me, lifting me up. I tried to focus on the armored figures all around me, but my senses suddenly fled.
When I came back to reality, I felt both hot and cold. I was shivering, but there was sweat streaking my face. My breathing was harsh, but something calmed me. There was a damp cloth on my forehead, and someone was touching-- no, wrapping my chest and arms. Someone was caring for my wounds.
“There,” a voice came, “your wounds are bound. You still have a fever, but it’s going down.” I recognized the voice. It was the man that had led the demons. Yet, as I looked at him, it was hard to believe that he had been beneath that fearsome armor. He was sitting, so his height was hard to guess. He was lean, leaner than I was. His white hair would have made him look old if not for his sharp features. Two crystalline blue eyes watched me, seeming truly concerned about me.
“Who are you? Where am I?” I whispered. As I tried to sit up, the other pushed me back down into a laying position. He removed the washcloth from my forehead.
“My name is Rajura,” the other said calmly, talking to me as if I were a child. “I am the Dark Warlord of Illusion. You are in the Dynasty.”
“Why?”
“You were chosen to become the Dark Warlord of Darkness and Corruption and serve Master Arago,” Rajura explained.
“I serve the emperor,” I replied.
“You have two choices,” Rajura said. “You can either refuse Arago, and he will kill you. You could, on the other hand, join Arago. If you do, you will be given the mystical armor known as the Jackal Armor. With this armor, you will never age, and you will be able to fight forever.”
For several moments, I was silent. The choice was a grave one. Could I abandon all I had lived for? Yet, I was young, and death frightened me.
“Tell your master,” I said quietly, “that I will serve him.” The blue-eyed male smiled just a little as he took something from the pocket of his kimono. It was a small ball that glowed white, and a dark blue kanji shined on its center. “Obedience?” I read, and I looked to Rajura for an explanation.
“Each of the armors has a virtue. Mine is Endurance; yours is Obedience.”
He moved then, and he pressed the ball into my hand. For a moment, pain seared through my body, and I wanted to release the ball, but I couldn’t. Rajura rested a hand on my arm until I relaxed as the pain slipped away.
“The armor has bonded to your body. You may need to call it forward verbally for a year or so, but soon you will be able to mentally call it forth. You’ll need your kanji ball, and all you have to do is think about doing so to go into your sub armor. Once in your sub armor, you can call forth your Jackal Armor.” Rajura spoke slowly and soothingly, stroking my forehead and cheeks with that damp cloth. After a moment, he stood as he said, “I will tell my-- no, our master of your consent. He will call for you later. Get some rest… Oh. I never asked your name.” As he waited for my reply, he took a candle from a nearby stand and lit a few sticks that were not far away. As they smoked and filled the air with fumes that made me rather drowsy, I realized they were incense.
“Anubisu,” I responded sleepily.
“Rest well, Anubisu,” Rajura said before he either left or I succumbed to sleep.