One An El Hazard fanfic. By Zubenelakrab or, Stephen W Based on El Hazard, the Magnificent World which is the property of AIC and Pioneer and probably some other people, too. Written with the assistance and inspiration of the ehfc, ehrpg and the eht, little do they know it ^_^; _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ Zubenelakrab says: *This fic takes place after The Alternative World TV series, so it helps if you're familiar with the first and second El Hazard OVA series and The Alternative World. But if you've only seen the first [and still the best] El Hazard OVA, you'll manage[^_^]. For people who've only seen The Wanderers TV series, there are differences between it and the OVA /OVA2/Alternative World storyline. The same goes for all you fine and upstanding happy citizens who have read/are reading the Viz translation of the El Hazard manga, which has a different storyline again. And if you haven't seen any El Hazard at all, what the clucking bell have you been doing?! **I did the prologue in prose, but I think I'm going to do the fic proper in script format. Any thoughts on this are welcome. ***This is only the first version, so I might well change a few things as I go along. This fic will be finished when it's finished, and not a moment before! ^_^ So I'm open to suggestions and comments. *****There's profligate use of the word that begins with F- and ends in -uck towards the end of this fic. Be warned. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ One. Prologue. Mr. Fujisawa goes to school. One sunny morning in the eighth month of the fifty-sixth year of Kuu Roma, around about the time of year when the many Tribes of Roshtaria used to celebrate the legendary founding of their country by the legendary Queen Cyre, Masamichi Fujisawa, superhuman hero and former teacher of History at Shinonome High School in the Empire of Japan, quietly stepped into the room where his wife was standing over their little son's cot and said "Well, I'm off." Miz turned to him, her unhappiness with current events plain on her face, and gave him a hug. He could tell what she'd been thinking as she stood and gently brushed her child's hair with her fingers. He felt exactly the same way. "Thank you, Masamichi." "I'm a teacher." he announced [but quietly, so as not to wake the youngster] "It's my duty, and my privilege." She smiled. "I know." she said, fondly. "I know this is the right thing to do...but knowing that you feel the same way blows all my doubts away." She let him go. "You don't want to be late." She walked him to the door. "Ready?" she asked him. "As I'll ever be." She opened the door. The Water Priestess, Quawool Towles, was waiting outside. "Why, Good Morning, Quawool," Miz smiled brightly. "What brings you here so early?" "Um." said Quawool Towles. She wrung her hands together. "Masamichi's off to teach his class on Earthling History. Come on in, Quawool. Bye dear. We'll see you for lunch." Mr. Fujisawa maneuvered himself out through the doorway past his wife, said "Morning!" to Quawool and made to walk off. "Miss Miz....Mister Fujisawa...I'm sorry..." Quawool spoke up. "...But, in good conscience, I cannot allow you to do this." Miz stopped being her cheerful, usual self as suddenly as she had started. "Whyever not, Quawool?" Quawool wilted. She was not as familiar with Miz Fujisawa's moods as her fellow Priestesses of Wind and Flame were [through bitter and, often, painful experience], but she knew she'd just done something wrong. Water Priestesses, active or retired, tended to personify their Element, either by inclination or by education. Miz might seem as warm and shallow as a tropical lagoon, but you had to remember that tsunamis were far, far more devastating that, say, typhoons when they hit land.1 "But..." "Good-bye, Miz. I'll see you later." Mr. Fujisawa, as agreed beforehand with his wife, left Quawool to her. "Mister Fujisawa! Please, don't go any further!" Mr. Fujisawa kept on walking. "Quawool. Please don't try and stop him." "But, Miss Miz....you...she..she...Master Makoto...! How can you even consider..." "If you drive her away, she may never release him." Quawool's fragile composure fractured. She pleaded. "But we have to do something....we have to!" "Quawool..." "Don't try and stop me, Miss Miz. I'm sorry..." Miz's expression turned to stone. "I'm sorry too, Quawool. It looks as if I might have been mistaken in choosing you as my successor." Quawool was an honest soul. If you wanted to know what she was feeling inside, you just had to look at her face. The young Water Priestess fell through several emotions. It was terrible to see. It was a terrible thing to do. The girl found a scrap of anger to hold her up, but there were tears starting in her eyes and her voice was distressed with hurt. "Any Great Priestess of Water would do this, even you, Miss Miz." Miz simply sighed. "No, Quawool. It's not right. Nothing that's ever happened to that girl in her life has been right." From within the house came the voice of a sleepy child wondering where his mother was. "If you'll excuse me, my son wants his breakfast." She closed the door behind her. Mr. Fujisawa walked across a wide lawn to the Palace, taking care not to fall into one of the line of huge, multiply-clawed footprints sunk deep into the soft turf. He followed them. They were going the same way he was. He hurried quietly past a Giant Hummock, a marvellous creature that looked like a grassy hill, grazing peacefully on the grass as if nothing had happened at all. He noticed that work was underway to repair the damage that had been done to Palace and city in the recent altercation. In fact, most of the minor breakages, scrapes, scars, cracks and spillages had disappeared, expertly smoothed away as if they had never been. Mr. Fujisawa kicked approvingly at the wall of the Southern wing. Looking at it, you would never know that it had just been fully replaced. They'd had to dismantle the whole side of the building to remove the teethmarks, bodies and the bloodstains from the white stone. There were some things, though, thought Mr. Fujisawa to himself, that were going to take a bit more work to tidy up. He saw that the circle of stone columns that had been ripped out of their foundations and hammered into the floor of the Hall of the Holy Sping hadn't even been touched yet. He scratched at the back of his head and wondered what was going to be next. He was also thinking that he could really use a drink. There'd been plenty to drink last night. There'd been a gathering of sorts at Nanami's restaurant; an only halfhearted attempt to capture some of the usual festive cheer. It hadn't worked. No one who knew, now, could ever be comfortable celebrating an event which had led to so much that was wrong, even if it had happened all those thousands of years ago, even if they hoped that they could make it go away. They'd need time to get over it, absorb it, change it if they had to to make it fit...if they ever could. Mr. Fujisawa wasn't a Roshtarian. He supposed that meant that it wasn't his problem. The problem was, it was. He was a teacher. That meant something. He had to try. He had to stand up and "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" He fell into a hole in the ground. Leaves and sticks fell down around him like a rain of, well, leaves and sticks. A pitfall trap. Of all the things... And he'd _thought_they were up to something last night...! "Oooof!" He hit the bottom which, thankfully, wasn't carpeted with spikes. He half expected spikes. "Ooooow!" said Mr. Fujisawa. He hurt. He probed at his rattled head with his fingers. Parts of it hurt more than others, but he didn't think anything important had been damaged. There wasn't any blood, either. As an accomplished mountaineer, he knew about falling and he knew about the sort of damage a fall could do to you. He thought he was probably okay. He looked up. Afura Mann looked down. "Good morning, Mister Fujisawa." she said. "Are you uninjured?" "Afura?" he said, entirely unable to mentally connect the intellectual Wind Priestess with something as primitive as a hole in the ground. "Crude," she said, indulging in a clich‚, "but effective. I must admit, it has worked very well. And in the circumstances, there is a certain irony." "Er...did _you_ dig this?" Mr. Fujisawa asked her from the bottom of the hole. "Of course not. Nanami arranged for some people to cover one of these footprints over last night, and at a reasonable price too." "Tricked...by one of my own students! You were all distracting me last night...all of you...and you- "- plied you with enough drink to dilute your powers, yes. I apologize, Mr. Fujisawa, but it could have been worse. You could have ended up in the dungeon again. In fact, you _would_ have ended up in the dungeon, if Miz hadn't dragged you off home early last night. Princess Rune felt it might be best to have the Guard to drag you off to the dungeons anyway. But, Quawool wanted to try and talk you out of it one last time...but I didn't think she'd succeed, so we took this precautionary measure, and it's always a sensible idea to have a backup plan. So." She said. "Can I get you anything?" "Huh?" "We'll have to keep you down that hole for a while. Is there anything I can get for you?" "No." said Mr. Fujisawa. "I will not cooperate. This is false imprisonment!" "Really. You don't have to suffer down there. I'm sure you could make it quite comfortable, and it won't be for ever, just until-" "- She takes the hint and goes away?" Afura went quiet for a moment. "You know why we are doing this. I don't have to explain it to you." "Hmpf!" "We think it's for the best." Evidently, Afura did have to explain it to him. "It won't be." he warned. "We can't trust her. We simply can't take that risk." "If we _don't_ trust her, then she'll never trust _us_, Afura." "As long as she is holding us all to ransom, we can't afford trust. She's too dangerous." There was a defensive tightness to her words, a touch of anger. "Afura....you know why _I_ have to do it. I don't have to explain it to you, either." "I know, Mr. Fujisawa. But I can't let you out." "I can't change your mind?" "No." "And you can't change mine." "I'm sorry." Afura apologized. "Hmm." Mr. Fujisawa put his hand to his chin and thought. Afura Mann wondered at the silence. "Are you sure there isn't anything you want?" "Yes." said Mr. Fujisawa. " No." "Anything at all?" "Well..." he relented. "There is one thing you could do for me." "Yes?" "Stand back." "Pardon?" "HYYPERRRRRR FUUJIIIISAAAAAAAAWAAAAAAAA JUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPP!" Mr. Fujisawa leapt out of the hole at incredible speed, heading upwards and away like a Space Shuttle going for orbital insertion. The shock waves produced by his ascent flattened grass for fifty yards, rattled trees, blasted ornamental bushes ragged and totally ruined Afura's hair. She ended up on her backside on the grass. "But..." she said, gaping at Mr Fujisawa as he tore into the sky. "Ha!" Mr. Fujisawa landed in a balcony garden in an impressive crouch. A visible aura of flickering red surrounded him. He stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Hyper Fujisawa cannot be contained by mere traps!" He strode off through the Palace. On the way he met Londs, Chief Servant to the Royal Family, standing alone at the open balcony that ran the length of the wide Processional Way. He was looking out over the city to the Eye of God and the Stairway To The Sky. The Stairway was one of four; pillars, towers, thousands of meters high that had stood for as many and more thousands of years. They were massive, but rose so high that they seemed as thin as wires against the vast empty vault of the sky. They were the obvious product of the technical civilization which had once existed on this world. For much of their height, they were dull gray cylinders of paneled metal. But as they sank into the ground, they grew roots like a tree. These anchored them, firmly and deeply, into El Hazard. They went down twice as far as they went up, roots spread out below the soil for cubic miles. Funny thing was, it looked more like a tree now that it was upside down. For now, the vast root system of the Stairway was spread to the heavens; the slender pinnacle it had supported was driven into the bedrock: now it bore the weight of it's roots, though unpredictably. No one really expected it to stand for long. A vast swathe of land had been torn apart when the Stairway was uprooted, and nothing could be done to reclaim it. The danger was too great. If the Stairway fell, it would be a disaster. Florestica itself could be so easily destroyed. But, for now, it was an astonishing sight, as if someone had planted a tree five thousand meters high, whose branches shaded kilometers. Though much of the rock and soil that had been carried into the sky, trapped in the twistings and branchings of the roots of the Stairway, had fallen back to earth, much remained. Stones the size of houses still dropped like ripe fruit to the ruined land below. Sometimes you could here them crashing down, even this far away. It was this sight that Londs was looking at. He seemed quite distracted by it. Mr. Fujisawa tried to creep past. Mr. Fujisawa didn't know if the man had any other name. He thought that he should have more. If names could be awarded to people on merit, then Londs would have a name as long as a week. He deserved it. His simple, single name concealed a man of remarkable qualities. His innoucous-sounding title completely failed to describe his true role, duties, responsibilities and influence. If there was a more powerful person in the Kingdom, then Mr. Fujisawa hadn't met them yet. And if there was a more selfless man, he was hiding under a rock somewhere. "Mr. Fujisawa." said Londs. "Do I find you well?" "Well...just about." "And the Lady Miz? And your son?" "Both well." "That is good to hear." "I'll tell Miz you were asking after her." "Please give the noble Lady my compliments." "I will. I, er, will." "You are on your way to teach your class on Earth History?" "er...yes?" "I will not delay you any longer, Mr. Fujisawa." "Oh. Ah. Erm...thanks, Londs." The man nodded, smiled slightly. "Did you fear that I had been sent to waylay you? I confess, I find myself in an uncomfortable position. In another circumstance, I would seek to prevent you. But, my good sense in this matter is...confused. I am fortunate, however, that her Highness knows me as well as she does. She has not chosen to command me in this matter. My loyalties to my country, my Princess and my friends would compel me to act in one way, but my heart would be troubled." Mr. Fujisawa knew what that meant. "How is the lady?" he inquired. "She is discovering, I think, that she was right. She says it is very different to what she could have expected, but better than she could ever have hoped." "So, are you going to marry her?" "Such things are best left unspoken of, I believe, until they are fast and certain." Londs sidestepped the question gracefully. " I shall bid you good morning, Mr. Fujisawa." Mr. Fujisawa continued on his way, leaping over buildings, from level to Palace level, startling birds and servants and hopefully avoiding whatever tricks and traps might have been placed for him. He walked along the Royal Way for a way, through the Green Garden, past Cyre's Fountain and the Round Bush Garden [it wasn't really called that, but that's how everyone remembered it]. He paused on the roof of the North North West wing, scouting his route. He disappeared into the flower beds, crept like a commando along hedgerows and skulked around corners. He blended with his surrounding environment. He peeked over a shrub. All clear. Mr. Fujisawa scuttled across a lawn. "Hey!" Someone shouted at him. Shayla-Shayla was standing in his way, her arms folded, mouth twisted in triumph. She'd been waiting for him. There was a rustling sound behind him. It was Nanami, jumping out of the bushes behind him and the situation must have been grim indeed for those two mortal enemies to join in mutual alliance. She held Ura in both hands, and gave the impression that she'd much rather have her hands tightening around his throat. Both the cat and young woman looked equally furious. Mr. Fujisawa was trapped! Nanami brandished Ura at him and shouted. "You might have got past the others, but you can't fool Ura's nose!" "Mya!" "Nanami! How could you!" Mr. Fujisawa declaimed. "Ura!" Nanami glowered, "Fetch!" "Mya mya mya!" Ura leapt, stretching herself out into a long, furry rope like a boa constrictor and tied him up like a parcel. "Yeek!" said Mr. Fujisawa, as Ura constricted. "Got him!" Shayla-Shayla exclaimed triumphantly. "Nice one, Ura!" "Mya!" said Ura, and growled in his ear. "Now, Mr. Fujisawa," Nanami told him, "Tell us where she is." "I can't do that." "Oh yes you can. You'd better." "Or..erm...what?" "Ura squeeze!" Ura said. Ura squeezed. "Urrrrggggghh...hgkkkk...ggrrrrgl." said Mr. Fujisawa. "You'd better listen up, Mr. Fujisawa! Tell us where she is right _now_ or Ura'll squeeze you like a tube of toothpaste." "Nanami....this is torture!" "I don't care! I want to know where that murdering kidnapping freak is hiding and I want to know yesterday!" "Nanami, she's not a monster." Mr. Fujisawa pleaded. "She's just a kid, who needs.." "Don't give me that! You said the same thing about Katsuhiko, remember?! And look what happened! He started a war! And _then_ you all let him at the Trigger of Destruction and he almost destroyed the world!" It was a good argument. Maybe she even believed it. But he knew Nanami. She was worried to distraction, worried sick. Mr. Fujisawa forgave her immediately. "You'll just have to trust me, Nanami. I know what I'm doing." "Hah! You're doing exactly what she wants. Giving in to a _terrorist_!" Mr. Fujisawa gathered his strength. "But what if you're wrong, Mr. Fujisawa? What if she's not "just a kid"? What if she's just using us to get what she wants? How do we even know that Makoto's still all right?! Mr. Fujisawa slowly flexed his muscles. "He could be _dead_!" "Rrrrrrrrr." he went. He clenched his teeth. "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" Ura meowed in suprise. "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGG GGGGGGGGGGGGH!" A titanic struggle between superman and cat commenced. Ura howled. Mr. Fujisawa roared. Nanami and Shayla stared. Mr. Fujisawa shuddered with superhuman effort. His eyes bulged. His face flushed red. Then Ura could hold no more. With a wail, she fainted away, and limply slithered off of him. Mr. Fujisawa stood legs akimbo and raised his arms in victory. "I reign supreme! Hyper-Fujisawa triumphs!" "Myyyyaaaaa...too...strong..." Ura mewed in a wobbly voice. "B...but..." said Shayla-Shayla, "We poured enough wine down your neck last night to float a navy!" "There's a potted plant with a hangover from hell in Nanami's place this morning! I reign-" -Mr. Fujisawa adopted a heroic pose that would have made his wife very proud- "SUPREME!" Chagrin appeared, briefly and fiercely, on Shayla-Shayla's face. It must have been her idea, he realized, to get him plastered. "Hyper Fujisawa cannot be contained by mere trickerey!" "You knew we were trying to get you legless and lock you in the dungeon and you played along?!" Nanami demanded and accused. "Mr. Fujisawa, that's sneaky!" "I can't believe you'd cooperate with that...person!" Shayla fumed. "I wanna know where she is, and now!" "Shayla..." The Fire Priestess was a leggy, flame-haired, green-eyed beauty. She favored short, tight garments that left a lot of her dusky body open to the air and the eye, [Mr. Fujisawa, as a happily married man, was of course immune to such things, most of the time.] ...but God help anyone who actually looked, because she got all confused, embarrassed and cross, and torched them. She had a short temper and carried an Elemental Lamp, which seemed to be hardwired direct to her fiery nature. When she became angry, things burned. Mr. Fujisawa looked on her in a vaguely paternal way, the same way he looked upon every human being under the age of twenty. In his estimation, she was underage, for the consumption of alcoholic beverages, the wearing of revealing garments and just about all moderate-to-advanced human relationships. Sometimes, he wondered if she was ever going to grow up. "...that's ENOUGH! Both of you!" Mr. Fujisawa roared again. Nanami stiffened. Even Shayla, who was a powerful Chief Priestess after all, recognized the authority in that command voice. "Makoto went willingly. He trusted her to be faithful to her word. You'll just have to do the same." "I will _never_ cooperate with a...sightless...worm...like her!" Shayla-Shayla's meager seam of natural patience was exhausted. Her green eyes blazed. The Fire Lamp ignited. "Enough of this crap!. No more messin' about. You don't get past me!" You'll have to catch me first!" Hyper Fujisawa took off at a run, quickly exceeding the sound barrier and producing a sonic boom that, again, rattled windows and addled the topiary. "Arr! Come back here!" Shayla threw herself after him. Nanami watched them go. She gathered up Ura from the path. "Sorry, Ura." she said sadly, as the cat flopped, exhausted in her arms. Because Mr. Fujisawa was travelling [briefly] at supersonic speed , Parnasse Relryle, retainer to the Great Priestess of Water, had no warning at all of his approach. A Parnasse knew was that -something- tore by scant millimeters in front of his nose as he crossed the Polygonal Bush Garden on his way to the kitchens. He stood with his mouth hanging open or a few seconds, unable to move. Then the shockwave arrived. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMetc. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back looking up at the sky and leaves were helicoptering down all around him. Parnasse sat up and looked around. All the leaves had been blasted off all the bushes in the famous Polygonal Bush Garden, where the Royal gardeners created exact topiary models of polygons, to unmatched mathematical precision that was the wonder of the horticultural world. Parnasse stood up "What was th-" and got hit by a Fire Priestess accelerating at full power. "Aaaaaaaa!" The collision was spectacular. The two bodies involved come to rest. "euurrrrrrrrghh." says Parnasse. Shayla-Shayla says something similar, then, "Oh, damnit...I lost him!" "Owww.......can't you watch where you're-" "SHHHHHITTTT!" The Fire Priestess snarled, baring her teeth. The Fire Lamp ignited like a solar prominence. Parnasse had the good sense to shut up. "...oh." Shayla glared at him in fury. "Um....don't mind me." She stalked off. "Whew..." he shook like a leaf in a tornado. He'd almost been killed twice in less than a minute, and he hadn't even brushed his teeth yet. Ten minutes late, Mister Fujisawa finally reached the extensive campus of the Royal Academy. He walked along the quiet and sunlit corridors and wondered what he'd let himself in for. He was about to spend a morning in a room, trying and explain the origins of the earliest human civilizations to a single pupil who had, undeniably, wrecked an entire civilization all by herself. Normally, it was human folly like wars that did that, or the blind workings of the forces of nature, like climatic upheavals, droughts, floods, volcanic eruptions and likewise. Did that mean his pupil was a natural disaster? He wondered. He thought of all the things that could happen in the lecture hall. He thought of all the ways he could screw this up. He thought about a drink. But there was no way on earth, or El Hazard, that he was going into that room anything other than clean sober. Mr. Fujisawa took a deep breath and opened the door. "You ghastly piece of shit!" a young woman hissed at him. He was so surprised he completely forgot to look and see if his pupil had turned up. "I'm going to fucking kill you!" He stared, blankly. Fatora? Either it was her, or it was Makoto in a dress again. It couldn't be Makoto, because he was at the Centre Of The World. But it couldn't be Fatora. Why would Fatora be here? "What the..._ fuck_... do you think you're doing, playing fucking stupid jokes, you fucking..._fuck_!" she delivered, as if it was the vilest curse word ever devised. Mr. Fujisawa was mystified. "What's the matter?" he ventured. "That-" Fatora [it had to be her] jabbed a finger at the blackboard, and if the finger had been sharper, it would have gone right through. He'd drawn a map of the Earth on it the day before, in preparation for the lesson. It was drawn from memory, but he had perused many a map in his time and he knew it was respectably accurate, if a bit vague here and there[mostly _there_, of course]. He was going to use it to illustrate human origins and migrations, how the first civilizations had sprung up in similar geographical and climatic conditions, that sort of thing. "-stupid...fucking...joke map!" Um. What? "Don't fuck me around! You _know_ what I fucking mean!" He didn't. "I'm sorry Princess, I don't see.-" "It's not funny. It's not fucking _funny_!" Mr. Fujisawa must have looked as puzzled on the outside of his head as he was on the inside. "For fuck's sake! Your stupid fucking _map_, fuckwit!. You just fucking made fucking it up." "Um." said Mr. Fujisawa. "No. Princess." "It's fucking _obvious_. Those two continents, they're both wide at the top and fucking pointy at the bottom, what's the chances of that?! It looks as if you've drawn one, then just fucking copied it over! And why are they both pointing down the same fucking way? And they look as if they fit together, too. And that fucking island there..." -she jabbed a finger at Madagascar- "obviously fucking fits in fucking there." She stabbed at the coast of Mozambique. "And this...!" The Bering Strait was brought to his attention. "All the fucking continents are almost fucking touching! Even this fucking long one down the fucking bottom, it's got a..._thing_...fucking sticking up just at the fucking place where this other one's pointing down! That's fucking ludicrous!" "But, erm, what about...?" Mr. Fujisawa pointed at Australia. "Fuck! That," she almost screamed "..isn't a fucking continent, it's a fucking island! Of course, the big fucking giveaway is that fucking little bit there that looks like a fucking leg!" She indicated the Italian peninsula. "You even drew a fucking heel and toe on it! It's even fucking well kicking a fucking ball!" 2 Mr. Fujisawa was absolutely amazed. It was the most curious episode of wrath he'd ever seen. He'd heard her angry before. She didn't _need_ to swear. She could reduce people to tears just by using the King's Roshtarian in unique and deadly combinations. She never swore. It would have been beneath her to swear. It was as if something had made her so hotly enraged that her intelligence and pride had simply boiled away, and now she'd had to fall back on the oldest and most instinctive of human insults...which she was using with such frequency and force that it all but made up the deficit. But why was she whispering so? The Princess wasn't one to whisper when she felt she was in the right. Didn't she want to be heard? Fatora was behaving in a very un-Fatora like way. Mr. Fujisawa put up his hands to placate. "Princess, that _is_ what Earth looks like. I promise." She seemed about ready to kill him. Then she blinked, deflated slightly. He could almost sense the heat of anger and embarrassment radiating off of her. Mr, Fujisawa witnessed something else that was extremely un-Fatoralike. A climbdown. "Ah....erm, as I was saying, Fujisawa-sensei, I wish to enroll in your class." she said, far too loudly. And smiled. "I want to learn about the um, Earth. Too." She looked at him with some kind of earnest desperation. For some reason, she really wanted him to say Yes, Of Course. He didn't exactly hear. That is, he heard the words, processed them, examined their meaning, found no logical reason to object to Fatora's presence in his classroom and duly rearranged his schedule to accommodate. But while these parts of his brain were thinking: *I'll have to get another set of notes copied.* -the rest of his mind was focusing on the room's other occupant, who was sitting by the window at the back of the tiered lecture hall. She was here. She was doing something. He found himself whispering to the Princess. "What's she doing?" "No idea. She's been doing it ever since I got here, and she was here before me." It didn't even occur to him to ask why Princess Fatora had chosen of her own free will to enclose herself in a room with a person who had persistently tried to murder her on several occasions. "I don't thinksheevennoticedme." Fatora mumbled glumly. So that was it. Mr. Fujisawa was astonished. The ways of love, he thought, are strange indeed. "Princess...I had no idea you cared." Princess Fatora flushed bright red [again] with embarrassment. It was, possibly, a first. "Ididn'tsayIcared! That way. About. Er...I mean, I..." she flared aggressively, but soon retreated into horrifically embarrassed mumbling, as she realized that she'd just given herself away. She looked so hopelessly mixed-up that his generous heart melted. "I'm sure everything will work out for the best. I won't tell a soul." She cast her eyes downwards. "I'm, er, sorry. Mr. Fujisawa. I thought that you were trying to play a trick on her. And..." she trailed off again. Mr. Fujisawa patted her reassuringly on the head. The reason for all this nonsense was sitting at the back of the room. She wore a long, heavy white veil, because her eyes were very sensitive to bright sunlight and she couldn't see, a formal black jacket of a soft, lustrous weave that reached to her knees, and simple, straight dun-coloured trousers. She wasn't wearing shoes. The only reason she hadn't been imprisoned, killed, or both, yet was because she had Makoto Mizuhara as a hostage at the Center Of The World, where no one could reach him, let alone rescue him. She'd tried to wipe out the Roshtarian Royal Family. She'd razed the Temple on Mount Muldoon to it's foundation, declared war on the Three Priestesses of the Holy Elements and, technically, won. She'd uprooted the Stairway To The Sky and stuck it back in the ground the wrong way up. She'd almost exterminated an entire nation. She'd been prepared to destroy this city and kill anyone still in it, in order to complete her schedule for that extermination. She'd killed many thousands of people and had tried to kill hundreds of thousands more. She'd be fifteen years old at her next birthday. She was the High Priestess of the Earth, the Keeper of the Dragon Lamp, the strangest and most ancient of them all. Her power reached from the highest peak to the very core of the world. Mountains danced when she sang. She'd asked Mr. Fujisawa to teach her about his homeworld. And he'd said yes. She was called...well, there was a problem with that. For the time being at least, no one really knew what her name was supposed to be. She seemed to be cutting up pieces of paper, with what appeared to be scissors. Mr. Fujisawa was used to seeing new faces in his classroom. It was one of the regular rhythms of the school year. You took in strangers, other people's children, and by the end of the year you knew them all, in ways their parents probably never would. He could, usually, get a fairly accurate impression of a pupil fairly quickly. With this child, he probably shouldn't even try. She was so unusually unusual, he wouldn't know where to start. He'd inevitably get it wrong. And besides, that's what everyone else was doing. Deciding that they knew what she was, without even trying to find out. It was his duty as a responsible educator to help her find out who she actually was. So he went up to have a look at what she was doing. Some of it became obvious at once. She had copied down his map of the Earth. She was cutting out the continents with her scissors. "Where are the mountains?" she asked. He blinked. Hearing her voice at all was remarkable. She rarely spoke. She never asked questions. She was ferociously self-reliant. She never asked anything of anyone, ever. It was important, that she had spoken. It was an indication and, maybe, it was a good sign. He showed her were the mountains were. He knew them all, of course. He pointed them out. She drew them on her map. Hhe showed her the line of the Andes, the Rockies, running almost from pole to pole. He pointed out the Pyrenees, the jagged Alps, the Appennines, Carpathians[he pointed out Transylvania, where vampires come from], the Jura, the Balkans and Greece, Asia Minor, the Cauasus and Urals, the Zagros, the Hindu Kush, Tien Shan and the mighty Himalaya. Then the Ring of Fire, circling the Pacific Ocean from Kamchatka down through the Japanese archipelago, then... The Earth Priestess put down her pencil, took up her scissors and carefully snipped the Indian subcontinent from the Eurasian landmass. Mr. Fujisawa realized what she was doing. She started to cut Southern Europe away from Northern, and then he was sure. She'd looked at his map. She'd seen the shapes of the continents and she'd realized that some of them seemed that they might fit together. So she'd copied the map and cut the continents out to see if they did. But she'd also realized that, if continents fitted together, then they'd once been joined together, and that they'd moved. Something as big as a continent would shove stuff out of it's way. And if a continent should hit another continent... She'd realized that, maybe, mountains happened when two continents crashed into each other. That's why she'd asked him where the mountains were. That's why she'd [correctly] cut India off of Asia, when he told her about the Himalayas and the Tibetan Plateau. She'd independently discovered continental drift and plate tectonics in less that ten minutes, and now she was reconstructing the prehistoric supercontinents of Gondwanaland and Laurasia. Mr. Fujisawa went to his lectern at the front of the classroom. He thought that things had just got a lot more complicated. He'd have to have a long talk with Dean Stalabaugh of the Royal Academy. He shuffled his notes, picked them up and threw them out the door. He got the Earth Priestess down from the back and sat her down beside the Princess. Then he started from the beginning. "When the Eye Of God blinks The Path To The Sky will open up And the Shadow Nation becomes one." from the Book of the Holy Apocalypse of El Hazard Notes 1Water is approximately a thousand times denser than air. Therefore, a 30mph wave is equivalent to a thirty _thousand_ mph wind. So when, at Miz's first [abortive] wedding, the Wind Priestess Afura Mann commented that Miz's fury was about a thousand percent more intense than usual, she hit the proverbial right on the proverbial. 2 Sicily. Zubenelakrab//Stephen W Belfast Northern Ireland United Kingdom October 2000 comments, suggestions to: zubenelakrab@hotmail.com