GAAAHHHHH!!!! Okay, here's my second try at sending
chapter 2 of Paladin of Cephiro (razzaframmazzz...
and it looked perfect before I hit send, too...)
Currently, I have just read the msg before clicking
'send', and it is perfect. Fingers crossed!

- Valandar the Red


Disclaimer: The characters and situations in Magic
Knights Rayearth belong to CLAMP, their
publisher/producer, and whatever US company is currently
preparing to release the dubbed version in September.
The below fanfic is intended for entertainment, not
profit, so please don't sue me, I have no money.


                 Paladin of Cephiro
            A Fanfic by Valandar the Red


                    Chapter Two
                      Courage

     Michael Lapides stood at the top of Tokyo Tower, just
gazing at the city lights. It was just after sunset, when
the blazing clouds still held on to the fiery light of
Amateresu, yet the dazzling technological kaleidoscope
of neon and incandescent bulbs created new constellations.
He watched the flowing rivers of headlights trace their
ways through urban canyons, and thought about home.
     A bit of a farm boy, Michael was from a small town in
eastern Arkansas, near the Mississippi River, just a few
miles from Memphis, Tennessee. He had spent most of his
life never travelling more than fifty miles from home, and
here he was in Japan. He had signed up for a program at
the University of Memphis, where he would go to Japan, and
help tutor advanced English classes for college students,
while taking classes himself at Tokyo University. He still
had a little trouble with conversational Japanese, though,
and some of the more informal constructions still threw
him for a loop.
     The only other people he saw on the balcony of the
tower were an old couple, maybe almost ninety years old.
They, too, were staring to the west; maybe they were
remembering old sunsets, from their youth. "The fires of
Heaven," he muttered in English. There were some great
sunsets back home, but the magical city below him gave
this one an extra hint of the impossible made possible.
But, it could not last. He had to return to his dorm room.
Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he straightened,
and prepared to leave.
     He was quite unprepared for the bright burst of light
that flashed before he turned around. His eye was drawn to
the heart of it, and he saw three beautiful women. The one
in the center had flaming red hair, tied into a long
braid, and chestnut brown eyes. To her left was a
bespectacled young woman with honey-brown hair, and
gentle, green eyes. On the right, slightly taller than the
other two, was a statuesque beauty with long, straight
blue hair. All three wore some sort of breastplate with
pauldrons, western style shoulder guards, and gems
adorning the armor. Some sort of skirt flowed from under
the breastplate, and their left hands had large gems on
them.
     Wondering if he was hallucinating, Michael looked at
the old couple. They were motionless, and even appeared
slightly grey. There was even a bird hanging near them,
lost in mid-flap. Turning his attention back to the three
women, his eyes grew wide as he heard the redhead speak.
     "Paladin, Cephiro needs you! You must help us!"
     A second light began to glow behind them, rapidly
growing in brilliance. His last thought, before the light
engulfed him was, 'If I am needed, I will go.'

                    ********************

     Wind was whipping past the young man's face, as he
saw a view that took his breath away. Part of it was due
to the fact that he was seeing a whole new world. An
ocean, shining like a million diamonds in the sun, lapped
against a beach of the purest, white sand. Forests larger
than Germany's Black Forest draped the land in a primeval
wonderland, and in the distance, mountains rose like the
fingers of a goddess of Earth, reaching to touch her
lover, the sky. Through it all, were floating plateaus,
untethered from their rocky homes, riding the winds to
uncertain destinations, adorned with crystal crowns.
     Of course, part of what took his breath away was the
fact that he was falling towards said landscape from at
least a couple of miles up. Confused and uncertain, he
arched his back like he saw parachutists do on television,
and hope that it would be enough to survive impact with
the ocean, far below.
     For a half, fleeting second, Michael caught a glimpse
of a huge, light grey shape below him, then the breath was
knocked out of him. Sliding along a warm, dry surface, one
hand reached out, and managed to latch on to something to
stop from sliding off. Glancing over, he saw it was some
sort of diaphanous fin. Pulling himself to his feet, he
saw that he was now standing on the back of a giant,
flying...catfish? Well, almost. At least he wasn't falling
anymore.
     Looking ahead, he saw that his savior was flying
towards a huge crystal spire. It was like a titanic
chandelier, all grace and elegance, too large to be able
to support its own weight on Earth. The dying rays of the
sun refracted off of it, throwing dozens of rainbows
across the land below it. As they drew nearer, he noticed
a balcony large enough for the flying fish, which it was,
of course, heading towards.
     "Wow," he muttered, "whoever sent for me, if I'm
supposed to be this 'Paladin' guy, must use this as some
sort of limo for their off-world guests. Off-world? Yeah,
I guess this can't be Earth. Heh, that's obvious."
     The pulled up from its gentle dive just before
touching down on the balcony. Patting it just behind the
head, Michael said, "Thanks for the save, big fella." He
then slid down its side, to first set foot on Cephiro,
itself.
     "You are quite welcome," came a voice from just
inside the hall that opened on the balcony.
     "Huh?" When the young man turned to see who it was,
the only thing he saw was a boy, no older than eleven or
twelve, in ornate robes and jewelry. He was carrying a
beautifully carved, if abstract, staff. "Um, okay?"
     "Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the Guru,
Clef. I will escort you to the Pillar, and all shall be
explained there." The boy motioned back down the hallway
with his hand and Michael stepped in beside him.
     "You're a guru, huh? As in 'teacher'?"
     "Yes. Why do you ask?"
     "Well, you're...um...awful young to be a teacher,
aren't you?" Michael scratched the back of his head with
one hand as they stepped off towards the hallway's end.
     Clef laughed. "My dear child, I am far older than you
would believe me to be. I am well over seven and a half
centuries old."
     The young man decided to go ahead and take Guru
Clef's word at face value; after all, it wasn't that much
weirder than travelling between worlds, and flying on the
back of a giant catfish. Instead, he looked at the hallway
itself. The walls arched up, meeting in a gentle curve at
least fifteen feet overhead. Eight feet up, or so, along
the walls, cabochon-cut crystals were placed at regular
intervals. These crystals seemed tape below him, then the breath was
knocked out of him. Sliding along a warm, dry surface, one
hand reached out, and managed to latch on to something to
stop from sliding off. Glancing over, he saw it was some
sort of diaphanous fin. Pulling himself to his feet, he
saw that he was now standing on the back of a giant,
flying...catfish? Well, almost. At least he wasn't falling
anymore.
     Looking ahead, he saw that his savior was flying
towards a huge crystal spire. It was like a titanic
chandelier, all grace and elegance, too large to be able
to support its own weight on Earth. The dying rays of the
sun refracted off of it, throwing dozens of rainbows
across the land below it. As they drew nearer, he noticed
a balcony large enough for the flying fish, which it was,
of course, heading towards.
     "Wow," he muttered, "whoever sent for me, if I'm
supposed to be this 'Paladin' guy, must use this as sSociety for Creative 
Anachronism, and almost
completely confused interdimensional visitor, took a deep
breath. 'This Pillar must be sort of like this world's
King. I'd better be on my best court manners. Heh, if I
made a mistake here, Bearkiller'd have my hide when I show
up to the next SCA event!' Raising his head, and doing his
best to put on a poker face, he nodded.
     The twin doors before him opened onto a vast hall.
Relatively sparse, it did not convey opulence, so much as
serenity. At the far side sat the three women he saw in
the light, back on Earth. Next to the brown-haired girl
sat a man about Michael's age, with a few facial scars,
and a huge, curved sword resting beside them. Beside the
blue-haired girl was another young man, with red hair, and
baggy, almost Arabic clothes, and a puffy hat adorned with
a fuzzy ball on top. And, next to the redhead, was a tall
man, in a black bodysuit and iron-grey armor, with strong
features, and a shock of blonde hair. A large sword was
likewise resting beside him. They were all seated on large
cushions, again like the Eastern nobility would be found
on.
     As Michael started to bow, the redhead shook her
head. "Do not bow to me, Paladin. I am Shidou Hikaru, the
leader of the Magic Knights, and Pillar of Cephiro. Beside
me are my husband, Lantis, and to my left, Ryuzaki Umi and
her...companion, Ascot. To my right, is Hououji Fuu, and
her husband, Ferio. You who will be the Paladin of
Cephiro, may we have your name?"
     "Um...it's Michael Lapides." He squinted at the
Pillar. "Say...what language did you just speak in,
your...um, you Pillarhood?"
    She laughed, the tinkling of a glass wind chime.
"I just spoke Japanese, of course. And you may call me
Hikaru."
     "But I'm speaking English, and I heard you in
English, but it didn't sound English." He scratched his
head. "I don't know if I'm making myself clear."
     "It's an effect of the journey," said Clef. "When you
pass through the barrier that separates our worlds, the
language that is your primary one is changed in your mind
to Cephiran. Your thoughts remain your own, but you speak
and understand Cephiran. If you were to return to your
world, the process would reverse itself."
     "Oh."
     "Michael, you have been chosen for a very important
role here. Our world is threatened by a foe that cannot
be harmed by the Magic Knights, and most magics are like-
wise useless against it. As the Paladin, you will be the
only one to stand in its way." Guru Clef stepped back a
bit, and said, "Your garments will not provide you much in
the way of protection. Allow me to provide you with more
suitable raiment."
     With a gesture from the wizard, the young man could
feel his clothing alter. Looking down, he noticed that
he was wearing a dark brown tunic and breeches
combination, with black seven league boots complete with
cuff, ivory bracers on each forearm, and a bronze-trimmed
ivory breastplate. Gems adorned both the bracers and the
breastplate. On the left were dark amber gems, glowing
slightly in the flickering light of the hall. On the right
were golden topaz gems, blazing with yellow fire. And, in
the center of the breastplate, sat a swirling gem,
combining the two into a dance of dark and light.
     "This is the armor of a Paladin. It will protect you,
and serve you well." Clef smiled slightly. "Do you like
it?"
     Michael smiled slightly. "What, no helm?"
     Clef shook his head. "Though your chest and arms are
protected the most, the rest of you is still far tougher,
now. A blow to that head that would have stunned you,
before, only distracts you. A blow that would have killed
you, now will merely stun you." Now, he turned to face
the side of the room. "Presia, will you take him to your
workshop, that he may be able to defend himself?"
     The young man turned to look where Clef was facing,
and his breath caught in his throat. The woman there was
positively breathtaking. She wore a red surcoat, and an
ivory over-tunic, pinned at one shoulder. Her long blonde
hair was pulled into a tight topknot, and her brown eyes
showed both a glint of active intelligence, and the spark
of a mischievous heart. "Of course. That is, until he
returns with his escudo."
     "Umm...escudo?"
     "Come on, Paladin, I'll explain on the way." He
just stood there for a moment, almost hypnotized by the
sound of her voice.
     A gentle shove from Clef's staff started him walking
towards her. "Go on, Michael. We haven't much time."
     The erstwhile Paladin found himself next to her,
walking down another long hallway, before he could form
another coherent thought. "Um, Presia?"
     "Yes?"
     "You said you'd explain about escudo?"
     "Right. Well, it's like this," she began. Her face
took on a slightly distant expression as she explained.
"Escudo is a legendary mineral, one that cannot be forged
in the truest sense, but only shaped by a true Pharle, or
weaponshaper. It is the source of the true weapons of the
magic knights, and the Paladin. Like your new armor, an
escudo weapon will grow with the wielder, in both power
and versatility. Only the one for whom an escudo weapon
was made can wield it, and it becomes almost an extension
of the wielder."
     "Sort of like the legends of holy swords back home,
like the sword of Roland."
     "I guess. That's not something I'd know about, but
escudo weapons could be considered holy by some. Well,
here we are." They were standing beside a door in the left
wall of the hallway. "We are going to enter my workshop.
The weapon you will get her is not a gift - it is a loan,
until you return with the escudo."
     "But where will I find the escudo?"
     "I actually don't know. That's for Guru Clef to tell
you. Now, come on in." She opened the door, and he
followed her inside, thinking to himself that he'd follow
her anywhere.
     Inside was an armory that a mail-order weapons shop
would be jealous of. Weapons of every size and description
adorned the walls, or were piled up in the corners. In
fact, underneath one pile of spears, glaives, and assorted
pole arms, sat a rather potstill far tougher,
now. A blow to that head that would have stunned you,
before, only distracts you. A blow that would have killed
you, now will merely stun you." Now, he turned to face
the side of the room. "Presia, will you take him to your
workshop, that he may be able to defend himself?"
     The young man turned to look where Clef was facing,
and his breath caught in his throat. The woman there was
positively breathtaking. She wore a red surcoat, and an
ivory over-tunic, pinned at one shoulder. Her long blonde
hair was pulled into a tight topknot, and her brown eyes
showed both a glint of active intelligence, and the spark
of a mischievous heart. "Of course. That is, until he
returns with his escudo."
     "Umm...escudo?"
     "Come on, Paladin, I'll explain on the way." He
just stood there for a moment, almost hypnotized by the
sound of her voice.
     A gentle shove from Clef's staff s and Lafarga were gathered in the
throne room, after Michael had been given his last
instructions, and sent on his way. Presia said, "It's a
term for the use of two weapons at once, rather than a
single weapon, or weapon and shield."
"Oh, like using the dai-sho, the katana and
wakazashi." Hikaru glanced at Lantis. "That wasn't really
part of my family's school, but we were still taught the
basics."
     "I don't know. I'd think that two swords would get in
the way of each other, if they're the same length." Lantis
seemed unimpressed.
     "Well, of course they would, if they were as big as
that monster you call a sword," joked Umi. "But the ones
he chose, according to Presia, are light, and well
balanced. He shouldn't have too many problems."
     "Guru Clef, why didn't you offer to awaken his
magic?" asked Fuu.
     "I could not. According to the prophesy, the Paladin
must awaken his magic on his own."
     "Well, what else did the prophesy say about him,"
asked Ferio.
     "Nothing. Er, you see, the prophesies end with the
Paladin gaining his magic. From there, nothing."
     "What about his mashin?" asked Umi.
     "According to the same verse that mentions him
gaining his magic on his own, he will not get one. He
will, however, have something called an avatar."
     "Is there any way we can keep an eye on him?" asked
Presia.
     Hikaru glanced sideways at her, smiling. "Why, are
you a little sweet on our Paladin?"
     Presia blushed. "No, of course not. I just want to
make sure I get those swords back, that's all."
     Clef nodded. "I can get occasional glimpses, for no
more than a few minutes. However, that should be enough to
determine how he fares. After dinner, when he has had time
to reach the city of Lincoln, we will do so."
     Presia nodded, her blush fading slowly, while the
three Magick Knights giggled quietly among themselves.

                    ********************

     Michael saw the city up ahead, and thought about how
he had left the castle. Being the first American to get
anywhere griffon-back, he felt that the rush of that type
of flight would put both Cessna and Harley-Davidson out of
business. In a few minutes, he would be at the village
inn, trying to sleep, and trying to make sense of the
day.
     It was about an hour past nightfall, and to his
right, he could barely make out the forest Clef had called
Infiniti Wood. To his left was a large plain, that
continued until it reached the white sand shores. The city
was only about a mile ahead, so he figured he's be there
in about fifteen to twenty minutes at a casual walk.
     He had been informed that the economy of Cephiro was
practically non-existent. Money existed, but was only used
for major purchases, like land or livestock. At an inn,
especially wearing armor of Cephiro, as granted by Clef,
all he would have to do is be polite.
     A growling noise behind him derailed that train of
thought. He dove to his left, and spun at the same time,
to see a nine foot tall beast, with the legs of a goat and
the head of a wolf, pounce through the air where he had
been a moment earlier. It snarled, and turned its almost
humanoid form to face him. It stood upright, with arms
ending in massive, bear-like claws. It lunged at him with
frightening speed, and he barely succeeded at ducking
under the reaching talons.
     With a thought, he placed his hands on the jewels of
his bracers, drawing his matched swords. The creature
dropped to snap at him with its fanged jaws, but he had
already moved aside. Snaking out with his right hand
sword, he sought its heart.
     The weapon skittered of the stone-hard skin of the
monster. The screeching sound, reminiscent of chalk on a
blackboard, seemed to irritate it, as it stepped back and
grabbed its ears. Realizing his swords were useless
against it, Michael willed them away, and proceeded to
dodge until he could come up with a better plan.
     'Geez,' he though, 'this thing's as bas as someone
who won't call their shots in the SCA! No matter how hard
I hit it, it won't even slow down.' Distracted by his own
thoughts, he reacted a fraction of a second too late, and
was batted twenty feet by one massive paw.
     Pain flared on his side, where even his armor was
scored. He was sure he wasn't bleeding, but his ribs were
likely bruised from the terrific impact. He had to think
of something, and he had to do it immediately. Before he
could collect himself, it had cleared the distance with
an easy leap, and caught him across the temple with a
vicious backhanded slap.
     Spinning and stunned, his fear rose. 'Run!' it
screamed. 'Save yourself!' He pulled himself to his feet,
and stumbled back just in time to avoid another paw swipe.
Steeling himself, he answered his fear aloud, while
avoiding the deadly strikes. "No! I will not run. For one
thing, this monster's too >ulp!< fast, and the city is too
close, for another! I've got to stop it, or they could be
next!"
     The very next claw came within inches of his face,
and the adrenaline in his system let him see every jagged
edge, and the bloodstains at the tips. In a single moment,
everything crystallized. He felt certainty and knowledge
combine into a cohesive whole, and new words rose up in
his mind, words that felt like he had known them all his
life.
     Before he could mentally recite them, and use the
power that had emerged, a cloven hoof lashed out, kicking
him in the legs, and taking his feet out from under him.
He tried to stand, but fell, and watched as the beast,
confident of its victory, slowly stood over him.
     The words flowed through his mind as he lay there,
and power filled his being. The essence of the twinkling
stars above, and the heart of the sun hidden below the
horizon, combined into a shining light held between his
outstretched hands. Drawing a deep breath, he yelled,
"Lightray!"
     A beam as big around as his head, lanced forward,
ripping into the unnatural flesh of the beast before him.
It ate away at the creature, blasting completely through,
and out the other side. Confused, and horribly injured,
it began to back away, but he had
already moved aside. Snaking out with his right hand
sword, he sought its heart.
     The weapon skittered of the stone-hard skin of the
monster. The screeching sound, reminiscent of chalk on a
blackboard, seemed to irritate it, as it stepped back and
grabbed its ears. Realizing his swords were useless
against it, Michael willed them away, and proceeded to
dodge until he could come up with a better plan.
     'Geez,' he though, 'this thing's as bas as someone
who won't call their shots in the SCA! No matter how hard
I hit it, it won't even slow down.' Distracted by his own
thoughts, he reacted a fraction of a second too late, and
was batted twenty feet by one massive paw.
     Pain flared on his side, where even his armor was
scored. He was sure he wasn't bleeding, but his ribs were
likely bruised from the terrific impact. He had to think
of something, and he had to do it immediately. Before er his encounter that 
the Magic
Knights and their friends looked in on him. Their very
first reaction was concern, and Presia looked absolutely
horrified. They watched him until he made it to Lincoln,
at which point Guru Clef could hold the image no longer.
     Behind them, a small, chubby, rabbit-shaped creature
with a gem on its forehead said "Puu!" Inside, it thought,
'Good. The Paladin has passed the test of Courage. I hope
he survives, and passes the other five. If not, this world
I have created is in more peril than even my Pillar dares
imagine.'

-------------------------------------

Notes: The Society for Creative Anachronism is an
international Medieval re-enactment group. Bearkiller, as
mentioned in the chapter above, is a relatively famous
knight in the organization who lives in Memphis. Also, the
tutoring program Michael is in is a real program, at the
real University of Memphis, one that at least two of my
friends are in right now.

Valandar the Red of the Empty Tankard
http://members.tripod.com/~Valandar/fanfic.html


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