This is a sequel to Merciless - an Ahri origin story. Please, read it first, so things in this story will be more clear.

All was silence.

It was the kind silence that permeates the skin down through the bones to the very soul, where every heartbeat is a crash of thunder, and every breath was a gale force windstorm.

Pink light through the filtered through the girl's closed eyelids, rousing her from sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The sky was a tapestry of bright blue above her, lit by the white light of the sun high overhead, only marred by the wispy white lines of cirrus clouds far above. She was dimly aware she was lying in water. It was only a few inches high, and warm, and her hair floated around her heady like a feathery black halo.

Slowly, the girl sat up, steady heartbeat resonating in her ears, and took note of her surroundings.

All around, vast, shimmering sheet of water stretched out to touch the horizon on every side of her. It was flat and uniform, and shadows of the clouds above danced along its shining surface.

Just where was she? She didn't know. It was like nothing she had ever seen.

She recalled nothing of what had happened before she had fallen asleep. She could remember only vague scraps of memories, still scenes like photographs. The memory of a sun that had been oppressively hot, beating down on her as she walked, a memory of tired legs and no water . . .

Had she died? She frowned and thought that after everything she'd already been through, that would be quite anticlimactic.

She got to her feet, head aching dully, smoothing her wet hair down.

"If this is some sort of afterlife," She said aloud. "It's not much to look at."

"Apologies, milady," a low, sly voice said. "That my domain is not to your liking."

The voice resounded in her head, but was not heard with her ears. Curious, the girl responded. "Your domain?" She asked. "And just who might you be?"

"It's been so long since anyone called my by name," The voice replied. "Most call me simply Orochi. You may call me that as well, if you like."

The name was familiar to the girl. She had read it once, in an old storybook. The details were hazy, but she remembered that it was about a man who had been heralded a hero, and eventually had attained the status of godhood. The man had gone by the name, 'Orochi'. The voice's owner, whoever he was, must have been vain indeed to use such a name.

"Orochi?" She said. "You think yourself a god, then?"

The voice laughed in her head. "So you are familiar with the story?" it asked. "A god . . .yes there are those who have called me such, in the past." It chuckled again. "But to answer your question, no, you aren't dead. Not yet, anyhow."

The girl's patience was growing thin. She put her hands on her hips. "Then why am I here? Wherever 'here' is?"

"I brought you here because you are of great interest to me, Ahri," It said simply.

Ahri was appropriately surprised at the use of her name. "You know me?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, I know you. And, do not take this the wrong way," It laughed to itself again. "But I've been watching you closely."

"The last person to say that tried to kill me." Ahri said dryly. "I don't suppose that's why you brought me here? Seems like a lot of work, to me."

The voice chuckled. "Such a sense of humor. Another reason I've taken such a shine to you. But no, I don't want to kill you. In fact, I wanted to ask a favor of you."

"A favor?" Ahri asked with mild surprise. What could anyone want from her?

"Look down for a moment," 'Orochi' chimed.

Puzzled, Ahri complied, and looked down at the water flowing around her legs. In it, she saw the familiar image of her reflection.

"Tell me, Ahri. What do you see? Or more accurately, what don't you see?" The voice laughed inside her head.

Ahri gazed at the water, not understanding the question. Then it hit her. Her ears – the fox ears atop her head, were not there. Nor were the whisker markings on her face, nor her nine white tails.

"What is this?" Ahri asked.

"Is this not what you most desire?" Orochi asked. "This is could be the future. Your future."

"You . . . can see the future?" Ahri asked incredulously.

"Oh yes," the Orochi said, sounding pleased with himself. " But of course, the future is not set. You know that better than most, I should think. But whether or not this comes to pass . . ." A cloud of smoke began to coalesce in the air before Ahri, causing her to recoil instinctively. A vaguely humanoid shape began to take for within it, and it pointed at the water at Ahri's feet. ". . . is entirely up to you."

Unnerved but unafraid, Ahri straightened and faced the smoke cloud. Though the roiling cloud had no discernible facial expressions, Ahri could swear she could sense it smiling, and it sent chills running up her spine. "I have it within my power to grant you the form of true humanity that you so desire. Help me, and it is yours."

"You can make me human?" Ahri demanded of the smoke cloud. "That's not possible."

"Of course it is," Orochi said as though he were speaking to a small child. "A trivial task for someone like me, frankly. There's a reason people refer to me as 'Orochi', after all."

Ahri frowned. The being in the smoke sounded cocky and irritating, but she didn't think he was lying. It couldn't hurt to at least see what it wanted of her.

"You mentioned a favor, before?" Ahri asked.

"Ah yes, apologies," Orochi said. "It is a task you'll find simple, I suspect. Simply continue on your path, young Ahri, and just know that I will be with you, following in your shadow."

Ahri was dubious, and the being's flowery diction sounded suspicious. "That's it?" She asked.

"That's it. I wish to see the world through your eyes. I . . . will enjoy it immensely." Orochi cackled in her mind again. Ahri shrugged. She didn't see what Orochi could gain from following her around, but she didn't see the harm in it, either. And if he could truly give her what she wanted, who was she to disagree? The task was simple enough. She'd be human, and she wouldn't have to kill for it. That was more than enough for her.

In front of her, the cloud that was Orochi held out an arm that trailed wisps of smoke. Resting in the palm was a red gem. Inside, tendrils of the same black smoke that comprised Orochi swirled.

"Take this as a token of our agreement. Hold it, and become my. . .champion."

Ahri raised an eyebrow.

"Champion?" She asked. "You read too many old stories, Orochi."

Orochi laughed in that echoing way he had.

"Perhaps it is so. I was always a fool for old adventure stories, of gods and heroes. Perhaps this could be one such story."

Ahri shrugged, and with a smile, gently plucked the strange gem from his grasp and let it roll into her palm, watching the smoke roil inside it. It felt cold and hard like an ordinary stone, but she had never seen anything like it. It was beautiful, in its way.

"Well," She said finally. "What would you have your champion do?"

This an improved rewrite of chapter one. After looking back at it, I decided it needed to be redone, and badly.