"Blood of Shadows" A "Revolutionary Girl Utena" fanfic by Ysabet MacFarlane The following contains subtle and not-so-subtle spoilers the show in general, and is not recommended for anyone who hasn't seen the whole series. Read at your own risk. Originally published in an edited form in Anime Alberta's 2001 publication, "Appendix A". The publication was with the author's permission; the editing was not. Unaltered version originally released Spring 2003. ------- In Ohtori, the shadows breathe. They dance. They flit from place to place, silent and curious as cats. They tell bad jokes. They whisper to each other. And they avoid the roses. ******************************************************* Blood of Shadows ******************************************************* The sound of her cousin's crying woke her. In the darkness of the room they were both invisible, their skin having slowly acquired the colour and fluidity of ink. Their once-lovely clothing had melted into them, and after several outfits had been ruined that way, they weren't given any more. The sobbing came from all around her. "It'll be ok," she said into the shadows. "Our fathers won't let anything happen to us. They'll bring the Rose Prince to break the curse." She had said the same thing every day, almost every hour, for over a month. Princesses everywhere had been stricken with the curse of an old witch, and now these two royal cousins lay in their dark room, alone, wondering how many others were afflicted the same way they were. They were fading into nothing. "The Rose Prince will come." Their fathers had set aside personal disputes and hatreds, setting out to bring help from the prince of all lands, the one who could save any girl from anything. But no one came to visit them in their dark room. "He already killed the witch. Now he only has to break the spell." The Prince had been wounded slaying the witch, but he would survive. Nothing could kill their Prince, their beautiful, heroic Prince, who loved all the maidens. "He'll come." The crying continued. *** When word came at last, it spread through all the kingdoms at once. The Prince's sister had been revealed as a witch herself! …And had stolen the Prince away. The princesses' fathers had attacked the witch with their swords, but she had lived. The Prince was nowhere to be found. In their room, the cousins stared at each other (or at least, they stared at the places where each thought the other was). "The Prince isn't coming." "The Prince is gone." "They'll leave us in the shadows... We're not beautiful enough to appear at court anymore." "Trapped in the shadows." "It's the witch's fault." "Which witch?" "Both of them." Time oozed by, more slowly than they could have imagined. And after the first bit of news, no one came. *** The passing of time will bring down the walls of any castle; enough time in the dark will erode anyone's sanity. When the walls of their room crumbled enough to release them, the shadows crept out, afraid of the sun, not even remembering their own names. A stray cat stalked them, until one of them reached out and touched it. They watched in silence as it instantly faded into the same shadow that they were composed of. They were not horrified. Rather, it struck them as amusing. Emboldened by their power, they moved through the ruins of the castle, out into its surroundings, touching things which seemed interesting. The new shadows that flowed out of their hands, they discovered, could be shaped any way they liked. They began to speak again, using the shapes to tell each other stories. They might have continued like that eternally, if the witch hadn't happened by. The shadows noticed her after she'd been watching them for a while; seeing that they saw her, she simply blinked at them and smiled a little smile. "What are you doing?" "Playing!" "How long have you been here?" "Forever and since yesterday, lady." "Do you know what's going on in the world?" They didn't answer. "Do you wonder?" The shadows looked at each other. "Do we wonder? Do you wonder? Do you wonder what I wonder?" They turned their invisible eyes on her. "Who are you?" "The Bride of Roses." They gaped, frozen by hopefulness. "Do you know the Prince of Roses?" "He was my brother." They didn't see the hint of pain that touched her face. "Are you... the witch? His sister-witch?" Their voices tumbled headlong over each other. "The sister-witch was stabbed and left. The sister-witch should have died." The Bride looked at them, and then unfastened her dress. Blood trickled from under it, and pooled at her feet. The blood cast shadows of its own, inviting them to come and make more of them. Fury threw them at her, hands outstretched to make her a shadow like them, but when their hands touched her she grasped them, smiling slightly, and held them firm. She took one shadow hand and pulled it down to her side, just under her breast, and held it over the deep wound that lay there leaking blood. The shadow struggled as she pushed the hand into the wound, halting the flow. "Witch," the shadow hissed. "Witch, witch, you did this to us." "Not so. And your fathers did *this* to *me*." "The Prince could have saved us," the shadow not touching the blood mourned. "But you took him from us." The Bride dropped the bloody shadow hand. Before the wound could begin to gush again, she fastened her dress. The blood didn't soak through the fabric, and she once again appeared whole. "You want the Rose Prince?" Her voice was soft and empty. The shadows nodded. "Then I'll take you to him." *** They travelled behind the witch for uncounted days, and stopped occasionally to collect another shadow. Most of them did not speak, and fewer still seemed to have the ability to make shadows of other things. Only one other seemed to share the cousins' skill, and she was more interested in talking to herself than to them. As they went, the witch seemed almost gentle, although she remained distant and an object of fear. She rarely addressed them, but she wasn't harsh. The shadows began to feel almost hopeful as they went. In time, the witch stopped in front of a large cluster of ornate buildings, laid out in the shape of an ancient tomb. "The Prince is in here." They shivered, but followed her through the gates, and paid little heed when the gates locked behind them. What metal things could hold shadows in? She led them up stairs, and through corridors, and finally through a door that opened on a room where a man stood. He was tall and lovely and he smiled at them, noble and gentle. All those who could speak murmured, "Prince, Prince of Roses!" The scent of roses flooded the room. He went first to his sister, and pressed his lips to her hair. "Go to your garden; I will take care of them." Only as she brushed past them to leave did they notice that the witch herself smelled strongly of roses, but even then they didn't recognize that the scent left with her, leaving only the faintest hint of decay. The man looked at the shadows in silence for a time, studying them, and finally shook his head. "Only a Prince can break the curse on you." They stared. "But you are—-" Again the head moved in denial. "There is no Prince here, only a tomb. And a garden." For many of the shadows it was the final blow; their human silhouettes melted away into the dark crevices of the room. The man looked at them with sorrow. The cousins looked at each other. "Then may we return home?" "The curse on this place forbids it. You cannot pass beyond those gates until they are opened by a Prince." "How was this curse laid?" He was silent a moment. "My sister is a witch. Her power is harnessed here." They were fearful, but angry. "How can we avoid being hurt further?" "I would tell you to stay away from her garden. Otherwise, be free in this place. Wait for the Prince to come." "How will we know him?" The man sighed as if in pain. "My sister will be his Bride." Horror struck them. "The witch, the Prince's Bride? Will he love her?" "I imagine so." "What will happen to him?" "She is drawn to Princes. She will love him until he is destroyed." The shadows pondered. "We will warn the Prince. We will know him when he comes." The man looked thoughtful. "But many people will come here. Are you certain you'll see him?" The shadows nodded. "We will search everywhere." "How long will you wait for him?" "Until the end of the world." They flitted close to the man, touched him gently, and disappeared, only the echo of their voices lingering. "We will watch, we will wait. We will warn, we will wonder." Alone, Akio smiled. In the garden, the Bride shuddered. *** In Ohtori, the shadows are everywhere. They linger at the gate. They watch the road. They whisper to those who pass, to make the time go quickly. No brightness of the sun will cast a shadow in the witch's rose garden, they tell each other. No, not until the end of the world.