Title: Path of Shadows

Author: Storm Bringer

Rating: R

E-mail: the_storm_bringer@hotmail.com

Author’s Notes: Hi. How are you? Welcome to my story. I hope you like it. Before you get to the actual story part though, I feel that a couple of things should be addressed. First, if you look above you’ll see that this story is rated R. This rating has been given because of language, violence, and some sexual situations. Not everywhere though, just in a few places. Basically, if you can get through the prologue you should have no problem with the rest of the story.

Second, constructive criticism is always appreciated. If, however, you feel the need to verbally rip my head from my shoulders, please don’t. I enjoy hearing from people who’ve read my stories, even the ones who didn’t like them. All I ask is that you don’t be rude. Thank you.

Third, I write really slowly. I apologize for this, but I doubt I’ll get much faster anytime in the near future. I just thought you should know that.

That’s all I have to say. *bows* Thank you for your time.

Disclaimer: With a few exceptions (the bad guys) the characters in this story don’t belong to me. That honor falls on the head of the benevolent Naoko Takeuchi.

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<Prologue: Warrior In the Moonlight>

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I have been told that the time of the Silver Millennium was a thousand years of peace and tranquillity. Strife and war were non-existent and no one was want for anything. The few memories I possess of that time are indeed ones of blissful serenity, and I trust that everything was exactly as it has been related to me. However, when a time period is described as being a thousand years of peace, it is implied that what came before was not so peaceful.

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The cool night air hung heavy with a sense of unseen energy, causing the skin of Tokyo's residents to tingle slightly whenever a soft breeze whispered past them. High overhead, the stars glittered like diamonds around the silver disk of the moon. No one who was out that night could say exactly why, but most were sure there was something odd about the evening. It was an enchanted night, the kind of night where dreams come to life and gods walk with mortals.

"Stupid bitch!!"

A woman lying naked on the grime covered ground of an alley gasped in pain as a man's booted foot slammed into her ribs. Blood splattered the ground and flecked her lips. It trickled from her nose and ran down the inside of her thighs. Bruises mottled her face and her eyes were filled with a pain that went all the way to her soul and had nothing to do with the ribs that had just been broken. Tears rolled down her cheeks, cutting rivulets in the dirt that had accumulated from not being able to take a bath for over a week.

Her breath came in ragged gasps that caused pain to shoot through her chest. Any thought of running that she might have been rolling through her mind had been dashed with that kick. Not that running would do her any good. The thug’s friends guarded one end of the alley, and a tall fence blocked the other end. Screaming for help wouldn’t get her anywhere either. In this part of Tokyo people bolted their doors and turned up the TV when they heard trouble. Better someone else than them.

So the woman continued to simply lie on the ground and stare up at the man towering over her, hoping and praying that this would all be over soon. The darkness of the alleyway was oppressive and the woman could only make out the general shape of her assailant. Thin and not overly tall, but more than strong enough to overpower her without too much difficulty. A shaft of moonlight that had managed to penetrate the thick gloom of the alley showed a bald head around which coiled the tattoo of a snake whose angry red eyes glared down at her from the center of his forehead.

The man touched a hand to his cheek and it came away stained red. "The little bitch almost took my eye!!" he roared furiously. "I'm gonna kill her!!" Reaching over, the man picked up a long piece of pipe from the top of the garbage can and raised it over his head. The woman watched the pipe with something close to hope in her eyes. If it fell and bashed her skull in, then the suffering and pain that made up her world would end. She was too much of a coward to take her own life, but if this man would do it for her then she could almost forgive him for what he had done.

Her hopes of a quick end were dashed, though, as a second man appeared behind the first, grabbing his wrist to keep him from swinging.

"Hold it, Nagao," ordered the second man. He was taller than Nagao, with hair that had been spiked and died crimson. Moonlight showed his eyes, dark and pitiless orbs that reflected the hard, unforgiving life of the streets. "Ya can't kill her 'til tha rest of us have had a turn."

"But look what she did ta me!" whined Nagao. He tilted his head so that the light of the moon pushed back the shadows covering four bloody gashes starting just below his left eye and running to the base of his narrow jaw.

The second man just laughed. "Teach ya to be more careful next time."

Growling curses, Nagao shot a fierce glare at the woman lying on the ground before stomping off towards where his companions were sitting at the mouth of the alley. He forgot that his pants were around his ankles though, and fell to the ground before he had taken more than two steps. Laughter erupted from the group of thugs.

"Idiot," muttered the second man as he turned his attention to the woman. "Now listen here. I'm gonna fuck ya. You can fight me like ya did Nagao there, but then I'm just gonna beat you senseless and fuck ya anyway. On tha other hand, ya could just lay there nice and quiet like and try ta enjoy it. It's yer choice."

In response, the woman curled herself into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut. This was just a dream, a horrible nightmare. Soon now she'd wake up and find herself in a nice warm bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. She'd have a family then, and a home. She wouldn't have to sleep in doorways anymore, wouldn't have to run from men like the ones who had caught her tonight. It was all just a dream.

She heard the sound of the man's pants sliding to the ground and tensed, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Just a dream, just a dream.

"Stop!" demanded a voice that held a note of authority and a sense of power. It came from the direction of the fenced portion of the alley.

"Huh?" The man glanced up from his conquest and peered into the gloom of the alley trying to see who had spoken. He could only make out a faint shape, a tall man he thought. "What's this now?"

"I challenge you," declared the voice, ice over granite. "All of you. You have committed horrible atrocities and this night you will pay for them in full."

The man blinked a few times, then burst out laughing. "Did ya hear that, boys? This here fellow’s gonna challenge us." The men who had been guarding the head of the alleyway now gathered behind their leader. Nagao had his pipe in hand, a few others had knives or improvised clubs. One drew a gun from his waistband. "I think maybe you should leave now and pretend you ain't seen nothin'."

There was the rasp of leather on metal and moonlight glinted off of the long, slender blade now in the newcomer's hand. "I will depart when you are dead." It was not a threat, but a cold statement of fact.

The gang leader smirked. "Then I guess ya won't be leaving. Ever." He nodded his head and the man with the gun raised and pointed at the swordsman.

The report of the gun echoed from the walls of the alley, the silver blade flashed in the darkness, and then a brilliant golden light shattered the night. A light that burned in the form of a crescent emblazoned on the swordsman's forehead. Then he was attacking, charging forward like a falling star.

Still curled into a little ball with her eyes tightly shut, the woman saw nothing of the battle that ensued. She heard it though, heard the cries of surprise and the sudden shouts of anger. The gun went off twice more, but the cries of the men rapidly turned to exclamations of fear. One such cry ended abruptly in a pained gurgle and something heavy dropped across her legs. A warm liquid spilled over her feet and pooled around her legs. She willed it all to just go away.

Whether the fight lasted for seconds or stretched on for hours the woman didn’t know. Hers was a world where time was measured in the number of heartbeats between pain and the false sense of relief felt when there was no pain. No physical pain, at least. There was always pain.

After a time, the woman realized that it had grown eerily quiet and still. She tentatively opened one eye, peering around cautiously. The gloom and her position hid much of the area, but directly in front of her something gold caught a stray ray of moonlight and glittered dully. It looked like a pile of gold coins.

Shifting the bulk of the dead man off of her, she slowly uncurled and rose into a kneeling position. Her ribs hurt terribly, but she pushed the pain down and forced herself to look around. The bodies of her attackers were scattered about her like leaves fallen from a tree and the ground was soaked with their blood. There was no sign of her savior.

The woman felt a distinct lack of emotion as she stared at the scene. No joy at seeing such horrible men punished, no fear that the man with the sword might return for her, no disgust at the fact that she was kneeling in the still warm blood of another human being. She was just numb.

Returning her attention to the pile of gold coins, for that was exactly what it was, she reached out and picked one up. On one side was the image of a crescent cupping a star, and on the other was the embossed image of what she thought to be a palace of some sort. She had never seen their like before and there were no words stamped on the coin that might give some clue as to where it was from. It appeared to be genuine though, and there was a whole pile of them lying in front of her.

Approaching sirens sounded nearby, but the woman didn’t notice. She simply continued to kneel in the alley, her eyes filled with the glitter of the gold coin in her hand and her mind full of the promises it offered.