The year is unknown. What is certain of the time is that it is long before modern days, in a feudal society of Ancient Japan. The tiny island is still owned by its gods and goddesses, and untouched by the Western civilizations.

The setting is the Great Forest. This forest is the home of the Great Forest Spirit, guardian of Japan and its creatures. There are many lesser gods within this forest, all subordinates of the Great Forest Spirit.

The scene is a tiny, secluded glen within the Great Forest. Its greenery seems to almost glow as the Nightwalker steps beneath the moonlight. On the edge of the horizon, the dawn begins to glimmer, rosy and bright, banishing the dark night. The Nightwalker shimmers and becomes the Great Forest Spirit again, a dark creature with a rackof horns.

Far from the Great Forest, in a land across the seas and oceans from Ancient Japan, a tiny villiage sat in the wake of conciousness. The villiage is quaint and homely, the wee hours of dawn beginning to color the grey skies.

A tall boy with thick brown hair that covered the side of his face sat on the edge of a mat that lay in front of his home. His name was Trowa, and he was the crowned prince of their tiny villiage. Most of the other villiages in Spain had surrendered to stronger princes than he, but Trowa's villiage remained faithful.

The uni-banged boy glanced up as he heard an awful din just beyond the treeline. An enormous boar ripped its way through the briar bushes on the outskirts of the wood and growled its pain at the people around it. A small group of girls was picking berries on the edge of the field, and one was speared through with the boar's shattered tusk.

The screams of anguish echoed over the plains and the other girls began to scream as they raced away from the beast. The boar was covered in rivulets of blood that ran like rivers to his feet. There was no way that it could be losing the amount of blood that it was and still live, but it did.

Trowa swiftly grabbed his gazelle's reigns and pulled it into mounting position. He leaped gracefully atop it and rode to the beast. Over the frantic mewlings of people running from it, Trowa could hear the boar moaning loudly. "It hurts, oh, it hurts!" it groaned from somewhere amidst its blood-soaked fur.

Trowa drew his bow and prepared to shoot. As he did, he motioned his gazelle to stand still. The boar approached and Trowa took deadly aim. The arrow quivered and spiraled through the air, embedding its tip into the monster's eye. It squealed its pain and tore off like mad across the field. Trowa's only visible eye widened as the boar came within a hair's breadth of him. He removed his sword from its scabbard by his side and plunged it deeply into the creature, past the writhing blood snakes and into its chest.

The creature writhed painfully and gasped a loud, dry breath. "I curse you, " it moaned before falling onto the boy. Trowa could feel the tentacles of blood trying to worm their way into him. He struggled violently and managed to crawl out. Gasping, he felt the cool, sweet air rush back into his lungs and let the darkness take him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the monster's corpse begin to disolve, as if it had had acid poured over it. It melted into a puddle of blood and then disappeared, turning the grass beneath itblack.--

Katherine worriedly fussed over Trowa's wounds as he fitfully dozed. Suddenly, he jerked into the mortal world and groaned. He put a hand to his head and lay back down.

"Trowa!" Katherine cried, worry creasing her brow. "Trowa,are you alright?"

"I'm fine, " he replied quietly. He sat up and pulled the blanket away. He climbed out of the bed and limped to his pile of clothes, folded neatly in the corner of their home. He pulled a pair of pants on and a cloak and left the hut.

"Trowa, where are you going?" Katherine asked.

"I need to go see the elders, " he answered. He looked back at her with concern in his eyes. "You'll be fine without me?"

"Of course. I was fine for the first week you were unconscious, " Katherine grinned. Trowa gave her a small smile.

Trowa walked around their house to the stable where he kept his gazelle. It was sitting there, waiting for him, patience in its loving brown eyes. He smiled to it and fed it, then continued to theelders'.

As he pushed open the door, the elders all looked surprised to see him. "Trowa. We hadn't been planning on seeing you again so soon, " one of them said slowly.

"I have been working on your fate, my boy, and I believe I am almost finished, " the Fortuneteller stood above a big vat of fragrantly boiling herbs. Trowa nodded emotionlessly and they all sat down in a cirlce. The Fortuneteller set out his rocks in a design as old as their people, and began to chant. After a few minutes, he stopped. "What is it?" Trowa asked. He gently cradled his arm, which had begun to throb since he had awakened.

"Your arm, your majesty. It's been cursed, " he replied. Trowa removed his cloak and armcover that Katherine had put on him. Said arm was a violent, ugly purple and swolen to almost double its natural size. "It will continue to plague you, diseasing your entire body until you will go mad and die, " the Fortuneteller sadlydecreed.

"Is there nothing I can do?" Trowa asked breathlessly. "There is a land, far to the east of here, where the demon came from. You may be able to find some answers there, " he replied. Trowa swallowed hard. Then he nodded solemnly.

"Trowa . . . " the chief Elder whispered.

"But he's our crowned prince! After him, there will be no one left, and our villiage will surely die out, " another Eldermoaned.

Trowa stonily stared into the fire. "I will go, " he finally announced. He stood up and headed to the door. Sadly, he looked back to the people that had raised him from early childhood.

"Our law forbids we watch you go, Trowa, but before you leave, I will give you this, " the chief Elder handed Trowa a fine traveler's cloak of hunter green. Trowa nodded his thanks and went topack.

When he had packed his belongings onto a neat pack that fit onto the back of his gazelle, Trowa took a deep breath and glanced back into the villiage. As he turned around, he heard a voice saying his name. It was Katherine.

"Trowa!" Katherine said quietly. She looked up earnestlyat his face.

"Katherine, you shouldn't be out here. Go back inside, "Trowa scolded gently.

"Trowa, I'm going to miss you!" Katherine sobbed. She deftly grabbed her pendant from around her neck and thrust it into his hand. "Here."

"Katherine, I can't take this! It's your pendant!" Trowa denied. Katherine pressed it into his hand.

"Keep it so you'll never forget your little sister, " she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Trowa gently cupped her face in his palm.

"I'll never forget you, Katherine, " he replied quietly before taking the reigns and gallopping out of the tiny villiage.--

Trowa rode on with a fierce pace for many, many kilometers. He eventually rode into a small coastal city on the edge of China. As he and his gazelle trotted into the paddies around it, he saw that a battle was carrying on. Samurai and civilians fought closely, but it was clear that the civilians were losing to the samurai, who were mounted on horses and carrying guns.

Two civilians raced over the crest of a hill and saw Trowa. "It's a samurai! Get him!" they yelled. Trowa grabbed the reigns and raced away. Then, a group of samurai mistook him for a civilian. They raised their guns and took aim at him.

"Leave me be! I am none but a weary traveler, " Trowa shouted over his shoulder. They all ignored him and he grabbed his bow to threaten them. Suddenly, his cursed arm began to throb and, of its own accord, slung the bow with an arrow and released it. The arrow shot through the air and neatly sliced off the head of a samurai chasing him. The other persuers wisely turned back as the man's lifeless body slid out of the saddle.

Trowa continued tearing through the countryside, trying to get away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a samurai about to chop off a civilian's head. His arm reacted again, releasing another deadly arrow which sliced the man's arms off, at the wrist. The boy he had saved quickly chopped the rope restraining the samurai's horse and rode it over to Trowa, whos was still racing away. They continued for a bit before stopping by a waterfall. Trowa looked back at the boy before filling a bowl with water and taking a long drink from it. When he was through, he offered it to the other boy. He shook his head and Trowa put it away.

"Why are you following me?" Trowa finally broke thesilence.

The boy brushed a long strand of ebony hair from his face and frowned. "They killed my wife. They killed my mother. They killed my father. They killed my son. I have nothing to hold me to that damned villiage, and I won't go back. You seemed like an interesting person, and I owe you my life, " he replied slowly.

"I'm not interesting."

"What should I call you?" Trowa asked the Asian.

"Wufei. My wife's name was Meiran, and my son's was Kai. Just in case you wanted to know, " Wufei added. Trowa nodded thoughtfully. "I am nothing. I have been discommunicated from my society, " Trowa felt responsible for telling him something since Wufei had shared his family with him. Wufei nodded and they both fell silent. Trowa carefully packed the rest of his things and they started off again

After they had crossed the treacherous seas between China and Japan, they soon fell upon a mountain pass. It was congested with travelers and traders, each carrying a large, red umbrella.

They started up the path and almost rode over a young man with long, white hair. He looked at the two travelers and smiled a feral smile. "You're the two from that brawl in China, aren't you?" he asked, eying Wufei.

"Yes, sir, " Trowa replied coldly. He tried to nudgehis gazelle past him.

"Ah! Triezey-dear, c'mere. These two are the most excellent fighters I have ever lain eyes on! This one, " he guestured to Trowa, "took off a man's head with an arrow alone, and *this* one, " he pointed to Wufei, "well, isn't he just the cutest little thing you've ever seen?" Wufei's eyes narrowed to black slits and the blonde backed away.

"Zechsie-dear, have you any way to confirm this fact? What's more, why are you telling me? Should you not tell Lady Dorothy? She *is* the leader of the soldiers!" a ginger-haired man replied. Zechs stuck his tongue disdainfully out at his superior. Trieze deftly caught the tiny, pink, wriggling thing between two gloved fingers. Zechs tried to bite and Wufei rolled his eyes at the two.

"Excuse me. We have to get by, " Trowa said and he gently ushered his gazelle down another path. Wufei followed, casting a long look at the flirting officers. They looked up into the crowded path and saw another person with long blonde hair.

"Them! It's them!" Trieze's voice echoed over the mountain and into the valley where Wufei and Trowa traveled.

"The Wolf Goddess, Moro! It's Moro and her wolf cubs!" Zechs's yelled out. The two travelers looked up, but couldn't see past the thick hedge of trees around them.

Screams and gunshots echoed throughout the valley for hours before everything was deathly silent. The two boys solemnly traveled on before coming to a creek. Trowa looked up its trail, following it to a scene of destruction on the mountain trail.

Meanwhile, Wufei spotted a large snake in the creek. He went over to kill it, but discovered that it wasn't a snake. It was a long, thick braid connected to a boy about their own age. The Chinese boy frowned and pulled the other boy out of the water. Nearby, he spotted another person and pulled them out, as well.

When Trowa came back, he took one look at the injured boy lying on the ground and hoisted him onto his back. Wufei tied the gazelle's reigns to the saddle horn of his horse and followed. A few yards down the creek, Trowa felt an odd burning sensation between his shoulder blades. He turned around to see a boy glaring at him with the most fierocity he'd ever seen.

The boy had messy moss brown hair and dark blue eyes. He wore a thick wolf pelt over his shoulders and a wooden mask was folded down from its edge. He glared so powerfully at Trowa that the banged boy could feel his heated stare. "Get out, " the wolf-boy growled, his tones animal-like. "Get out of my forest!"

An enormous white wolf reared itself back and wrapped around the wolf-boy and a pile of white nearby. Trowa realized that it had to be one of the wolves, wounded or dead. The wolf's eyes promised death to him if he did not honor the boy's command, so he slowly left.