Author's notes: This tale, penned by me, Nachtsider, is based on the seminal manga known as 'El-Hazard, the Magnificent World', which is the brainchild of Hidetomo Tsubura, Hiroki Hayashi and Ryoe Tsukimura. Set in-between the time Ifurita was beamed to Earth after shutting down the berserk Eye of God and the time Makoto rescued her, my fanfic is an attempt to explain several mysterious and unexplained issues present in the original story, such as what actually happened during the 'Great War'. Bearing in mind that all original concepts, characters, their distinctive likenesses and related elements featured in this publication are my property and may not be used without my express permission, enjoy the story, and feel free to drop this author a line at the relevant electronic mail address (nachtsider at yahoo dot com)!

SHADOWS OF THE PAST

CHAPTER ONE: MAKOTO'S LAMENT

The lightning flashes through my skull; mine eyeballs ache and ache; my whole beaten brain seems as beheaded, and rolling on some stunning ground. – Herman Melville, Moby Dick

A sultry young woman, her luxuriant ebony tresses done up in an extravagant hairdo and her slender figure tucked into an emerald-green outfit that identified her as the Elemental Priestess of Wind soared effortlessly up to the immense artificial moon floating over Floristica City known as the Eye of God. She landed gracefully at the edge of one of the numerous oblong platforms that covered its exterior.

Four whole months had gone by since the day she last went up there. That fateful day was the day the El-Hazardian people had triumphed over the Bugrom, the Phantom Tribe and the evil Demon Gods Ab-Zahal and Jinnistacia. It was the day that the benevolent Demon God Ifurita had saved El-Hazard from being destroyed by a malfunctioned Eye of God and was banished across space and time in doing so. It was also the day that the Wind Priestess' good friend literally began dying bit by bit, his heart breaking due to the fact that he and his beloved Ifurita were separated indefinitely.

The friend in question was sitting under one of the colossal antennae that protruded from the Eye's surface. He was a tall lad with unkempt brown hair, clad in an immaculate blue high school uniform. He did not notice the Wind Priestess land, for he was concentrating on reading a large, leather-bound volume that he had borrowed from the Royal Archives. Lying before him was an ornately sculpted, two-meter long staff of coldly gleaming metal - Ifurita's Power Key Staff. A frustrated look then manifested itself upon his boyish face. He tossed the tome aside.

"I was so sure that this manuscript contained information that would aid me in conveying Ifurita home," he said to himself as he picked up the staff and walked over to retrieve the book, "and yet it did not. Will the answers I seek continue to elude me?" He then became aware of the green-clad, feminine figure standing a few feet away from him. Turning to face her, he said: "Oh, it's you, Afura. Are you here to take me back to the palace?"

"No, Makoto," she replied. "Princess Rune did not send me, I came on my own to see how you were keeping. Everybody is worried sick about you. You neither sleep nor eat and you've pulled back from all who care for you."

Makoto turned away and stared off into the western sky, which was a blaze of sunset red. Trying to put his feelings into simple words had always been difficult. Taking a deep breath, he gave it his best shot.

"Afura," he said in a voice brimming with emotion, "have you ever cherished someone to the point where it is virtually impossible for you to get out him or her out of your mind? I certainly do. I see Ifurita every time I close my eyes, knowing that she will faithfully wait for the day that she will meet me and send me to El-Hazard." He closed his eyes and tried in vain to blot the mental anguish from his psyche before continuing: "Her energy was at a perilously low level when we rendezvoused at the ruins under my school. I dread that she may not survive."

The Wind Priestess walked over to Makoto and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You love Ifurita more than I have ever seen anyone love before," she sighed. "You will be reunited with her. That is, if you don't kill yourself in trying to achieve your goal. Come on, when was the last time you had a bite?"

"I... I can't recall," replied Makoto quietly, the fight and fire gone from him.

"Well, as a friend, I won't let you labor any longer without some nourishment and rest beforehand," smiled Afura.

666

Through the halls of Floristica's Imperial Palace rushed a vision of honey-blonde loveliness dressed in a simple yet tasteful dress of sky-blue silk, narrowly but deeply décolleté beneath an exquisite beaded jacket. "Oh, Afura, why did you not tell any of us that you had brought Makoto down?" she said to herself.

Arriving at the door leading to the palace kitchens, the nymphet slowly opened it and beheld Makoto sitting alone at a low oak table. He was staring blankly into a crystal goblet filled with red wine. She called out his name tentatively. He remained silent, downing the goblet's entire contents in one swift movement. Setting the cup back down, he refilled it from a nearby ewer and turned to look at his visitor with eyes reddened from drink.

"Hello, Nanami," he drawled. "Now I know why Shayla and Fuji-sensei love downing this stuff."

Nanami slowly approached him and gasped with shock upon noticing three empty wine decanters standing near his feet. "Good Lord…" she exclaimed. "Makoto, you'd better lay off the liquor or you're bound to have a monstrous hangover tomorrow morning."

A bitter chuckle worked its way past Makoto's lips. "I don't bloody care," he said, his voice slurred. He held up the goblet up to his eyes, swishing the red liquid around. "Ifurita," he murmured, his voice trembling. "Forgive my pathetic, contemptible self." He rose suddenly, hurling the goblet against the wall. It shattered into a million shiny pieces. "Despite my efforts, I remain powerless to save you! I probably will never be able to do so!"

Nanami stepped back in shock. "Makoto, you can't accept that as true! Giving up is out of the question, you vowed to bring Ifurita back whatever it would take," she said in utter disbelief at her friend's words. He had never lost faith or confidence before, even during the darkest hours of the previous conflict, and it greatly unnerved Nanami to see the condition he was in now.

Makoto stood still, breathing heavily. "I know," he said hoarsely. "That makes my pain all the more harsh." His body was then wracked by sobs, and he collapsed onto the floor. Nanami rushed to his side and caught him in her arms. Makoto cried on her shoulder, and she responded by holding him closer, gently rocking him and stroking his hair.

Several moments later, Nanami looked down at the boy, no, the man who lay fast asleep on her lap. "Not too long ago, I would have killed to hold you like this, Makoto," she murmured as she ran a hand through his hair. "Now, all I desire is to see the anguish leave you, even if it had to become my own. It isn't fair! You were instrumental in saving this world and its inhabitants from certain doom! The least you warrant for your immeasurable deed is some peace of mind…"

Tears flowed down Nanami's face at the wrongness of it all. Makoto's grief was as bad as, if not worse than the emotional breakdown that she had experienced upon realizing that he could never love her. "Such injustice," Nanami whispered to herself, unsure whether she was referring to her own predicament or Makoto's.

666

Aching with fatigue, Makoto crept into bed. Sleep soon took him. Memories of Ifurita, the beloved, the august, the beautiful, the exiled, flitted through his mind. He called aloud her name in his slumber, his voice breaking the silence of the dark night. After what seemed like an eternity, the images faded away. An unwholesome reverie then surfaced and began to perturb his rest.

In the dream, Makoto found himself standing on a Floristica street corner. The largest full moon he had ever seen, hued blood red, hung high in the stormy night sky, casting an eerie light upon the earth below. He caught his breath upon seeing that the prosperous metropolis' majestic buildings lay in smoldering ruins all around him. The roads were choked with corpses, many of them horribly mutilated.

The only edifice still standing was the Imperial Palace, its burnt and blasted silhouette dominating the skyline. Enormous black pennants, each depicting a silver scythe with blood dripping from its blade, flapped from the palace's minarets and towers. The entire vista was one of utter devastation and desolation.

Makoto awoke with a start, his pulse racing and his body covered with cold sweat. He was badly startled by the disturbing nightmare. Sitting up between the sheets for a few minutes, he breathed heavily and mopped his brow before settling down again to his much-needed rest. However, his sleep was no longer as deep as it was, for his brain was desperately trying to comprehend what his subconscious mind had just witnessed. He was known to have had premonitory visions before. Was this an omen of what was going to happen in the near or far future?

END OF CHAPTER ONE