June 17, 2002

Hope's Blade

By Vanilla

Edited by Cyber Rose

Author's note:

Konnichiwa, minna! This is mainly a medieval Takari fic, with some Kouyako and Mimato. One-sided Daikari in the beginning. This is rated PG-13 for a little bloodshed. Cyber Rose and I would like to see at least three good reviews before we post the next chapter. All flames will be used to toast marshmallows, though we wouldn't mind some constructive criticism. If you would like to be notified when the next chapter is up, please email me, Vanilla, at syaoran_ccslover@hotmail.com. Cyber Rose wishes not to disclose her email address, so if you have questions or comments for her or both of us, email me and I'll forward them to her. By the way, Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke are all 18. Miyako and Ken are 19. Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Mimi are all 22. Koushirou is 21 and Iori is 15.


Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

We no own,

So you no sue!

(We do own the plot though!)

Hope's Blade

Chapter One

'Hope in Chains'

The warm ocean wind swept past a tall figure perched atop the highest of three masts. This figure, a young man by the name of Takeru, adjusted the ropes of one of many cream-colored sails and frowned. The ship, among many others, was not sailing today for recreation, as it usually was. There was a war going on between two long-time rival countries, Serbia and Arcaidia, and he had volunteered to go to war on behalf of his country, Serbia. He usually relished in the feeling of the wind blowing his shaggy and unkempt golden hair, of the wonderful salt air filling his nostrils and the feeling of a well-fought battle. Now all he smelled was gun powder and the sickening stench of death.

'Their aim is getting better,' he thought grimly as the mast he was holding on to shook beneath his battle-worn fingers. He quickly seized a rope and pulled it taut, until the sail above him had spread out to it's full potential. The ship shook once more, and Takeru nearly lost his footing on the netting. Fear was his dominant emotion as he clutched at the mast for reassurance and support. A new smell entered his nostrils now. Smoke.

He suddenly let out a loud yell as one of Arcaidia's huge battleships, The Battle Maiden, skewered her bow straight through the hull of Takeru's ship, The Water Dragon, casting him and many others into the black waters of the ocean 50 feet below. Resurfacing, he found a plank that, he presumed, had fallen off one of the ships and grabbed onto it. He looked back to see both ships go up in flames, realizing, as if for the first time, that many of his fellow soldiers and friends would, no doubt, go down with the ship.

He grimaced as he watched the fire, which had nearly consumed the entire ship, burn his remaining comrades and commanding officers alive. He turned his head away from the gruesome scene and began to look for survivors floating in the vast, dark ocean. He tried to block out the roaring sound emanating from the raging inferno, but he could not block out the high- pitched screams of pain that echoed through the now unbearably warm air.

Hearing a resounding crack, Takeru looked up just in time to see one of his ship's tall masts break from it's base. The last thing he saw before total darkness took his body was a dark mass of Arcaidian battleships on the horizon, then all went dark.


Takeru groaned in pain, somehow managing to lift his head a few inches off of the wooden plank. He tried to remember last night's battle, but for some reason, found that he couldn't. He moaned, his callused fingers finding a large bump on his head.

'So that's why I can't remember anything,' he thought, suddenly noticing he had been drifting closer to shore. 'How long have I been out?'

Using some new-found strength, he lifted his head up further to see a dark shape floating toward him. Lifting arms that felt full of lead, he paddled out to the boat. As he neared the small dingy, he heard several people murmuring words in a different language, a language that he had no knowledge of. As the cryptic boat came closer, he realized that one of the men onboard had a huge sword, and was brandishing it as if to ward him away. He noticed their clothing, and figured out that these sea-faring men were pirates. Now level with the boat, he looked up again to see that these pirates, whoever they were, were smiling at him. But the smile didn't reach their cold, angry eyes. With a swiftness that Takeru had never known to exist, a particularly scruffy-looking pirate brought the hilt of the sword down upon Takeru's head, and he blacked out for the second time in the frigid and unforgiving ocean.

More Author's Notes:

Wow! I'm so excited! This is a pretty long chapter for me, isn't that pathetic? Well, how did you like it? I mean, it may not be the best medieval Takari fic out there, but what can we say? It's my first fic. And yes, it will be Takari later on in the fic. And it will most deffinetly be longer. I'm just getting the setting and the plot lined up. Don't forget to r+r! Ja ne!