False Moon (Youth)

Monster Rancher Metropolis: Library: Fan Fiction, Poetry, Birthday List, Links & Non-Fiction Archive: Epics In Progress: False Moon (Youth)
By f3no255 on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 07:14 pm:

I will be posting this next section in parts. It's very long and I don't want to blow it all in one big wahoo.

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Soothing, relaxing, a Sunday afternoon heralds the beginning of a new week. The setting sun helps things flow more smoothly as figures relate under the twilight. The lazy ambling of monsters passing by, finishing their rounds, makes it all the more peaceful.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t feel like dragging the battle out. Hector was the only easy solution I had at my fingertips.”

Looking about, chestnut hair flowing, Jorus’s new assistant, Asmen, tilted her head to the side and coughed. “Togara is my best monster; I guess FIMBA was right about you. I would never have guessed that a 1st Rank breeder would own a Dragon. I guess the rights have been passed down…?”

“Jorus?”

“What? Oh, yes. The same with the orchard and the ranch.”

“So the ranks do date back that far…”

Spinning through Asmen’s head was the report the FIMBA associates had given her. The name “Jorus Konath” traced back thousands of years. It was utterly mad to even think of the possibility of a single man to survive that long. Much less retain Jorus’s striking features. He was tall, stocky, and possessed a dark nature. He had never shown up at any official tournament; FIMBA had no records of even the major tournaments. Rumor had it he was more of a Virknar Breeder.

Virknar was a trainer about 500 years gone, whose style was to fight in completely unofficial matches that threw out the high stakes. Death was the prize of those under the winner. Cadence Virknar—or “Tattoo,” as he was often called—made his entire living off those fights. But he had never found the best and most rare items because of his scandalous nature.

Jorus seemed to have a virtual colony out in the middle of nowhere. Most of the monsters seemed regal in his presence. It also seemed as though every monster here could have wiped out Togara… It was an unsettling feeling. Asmen felt that Jorus himself could have beaten the Golem, but that, too, was ridiculous.

For the most part.

Asmen had also seen some strange monsters that were definitely off continent; a few tree-beasts she recognized as Mocks and a strange armored warrior she remembered as a Durahan. Her mother had told her wondrous stories about the IMA continent.

“And there, out of the southern Arena entrance, was a mighty armored warrior with steel sword and shield! The crowd cheered its name; ‘Taerusu! Taerusu!’ The announcer went wild as it beat that Monol right into the ground! Rose petals flew everywhere for the victory, and his trainer, Jorus, was as proud as such a magnificent trainer could be!”

What had Jorus called the Durahan..?

Taerusu?

Jorus?

Gulping, Asmen asked another question. She knew the answer with all her heart, but for some reason, her mind doubted the practicality of a simple inheritance.

“Jorus?”

“Yes?”

“Did your father… I mean, one of your ancestors, live on the IMA continent?”

His tapping of the foot paused. A bead of sweat glistened off the rim of his sunglasses as he slowly turned his head toward Asmen. “What gave you that idea?” He asked.

“Well… My mother told me stories about IMA breeders. I remember a story about a Durahan named Taerusu and his trainer. His name was Jorus… I mean; it can’t be possible, right? You just named the Durahan Taerusu after its ancestor like you were named after yours, right?”

This time Jorus gulped, whether Asmen noticed it or not.

“You could say that.”

Nodding, Asmen said, “Yeah, that’s it. Sorry for asking such a stupid question, Jorus. Really, I am.”

Pouring another glass of peach juice into Asmen’s empty cup, he replied, “Drink up. I have much to show you of my… studies.”

“Studies?” She replied. “I didn’t think you were much of a scientist.”

“You could say I inherited it.”

“Do you have anything else on this ranch but peaches?”

“Pardon me?”

Of course… No-one at the ranch ate just peaches.

“Why, of course. How rude of me; peaches are just… good for you, that’s all.”

“I can’t see how eating these things so much could possibly benefit anyone. Now, about your guided tour of the ranch.”

Jorus paced over to the railing and began to speak.

“Well, there’s the Galmagetten Marsh, as well as the local rivers. I also have numerous training grounds for all the monsters and, of course, the orchard. The house isn’t often visited, but we’re at it right now.

“Over at the east,” he said, pointing, “is the freezer.”

“The freezer?” Asmen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The laboratory. Directly adjacent to it is the vault.”

“The vault?”

“Where I pursue the studies FIMBA doesn’t care for.”

Asmen stood up and gulped down the rest of the juice, stepped next to Jorus, and spoke again. “And what might those studies be?”

Turning to the setting sun, Jorus sighed. “Research on Hengers. Mainly on the concept of monster souls.”

Stepping back and sliding against the porch front, Asmen dropped her glass. As it rolled along the floor, she stammered, “But soul research takes hundreds of years! The FIMBA never banned it, they just thought it was impossible!”

Jumping over the railing, Jorus waltzed over toward the laboratory/vault combine and grinned. “I’ve… been around for a long time. And a week from now, my research will bear the greatest fruit. You see that moon?”

As Jorus pointed at the sky, Asmen stepped out from underneath the porch roof and looked up towards the stars. There, and very large, was one of the local moons; the Priests called it the “House of God.” No-one knew why.

“What’s your point?” She said.

“The Hengers and that moon are somehow related. I’m not sure it’s even a moon anymore, but in a Week I’ll be sure.”

“How can that not be a moon? Look at the size of it! Not one person could have devised any kind of a plan to put that thing into the sky and make it stay!”

“Did I ever say I thought it was a person?”


(To be followed by: Shattered)