Of Light, Shadow, and Love

Of Light, Shadow and Love:Volume 1

Foreword

This story is set in a strange, magical place, called Megatokyo.

Megatokyo, the wildly popular internet comic by Fred Gallagher, has spawned its own world of fans, some of whom engage in role-playing and storytelling on the online forums associated with the comic.

There, doctors fly through the sky on wings of Light, nurses have blue hair, and mystic warrior elf-women abound. There, fanboys and fangirls battle, woo, and worship their own visions of perfection: the various characters of the comic from which the city gets its name – Megatokyo.

For this, all of us who have contributed wish to thank Fred for giving us a wonderful place for our characters to live, play, angst and love.

Thanks, Fred, for inspiring us all to give a breath of life to parts of ourselves we never knew existed.

We’re all the better because of it.

Editor’s Note:

Of Light, Shadow, and Love was originally written as a multi-author “role play” story in the online forums of the Megatokyo website. As such, it presents itself as a unique work of fiction, as each character in the novel, with a few exceptions, was portrayed by a different real-life individual. Each character has a depth, history and personality that is as distinctive as the authors themselves.

The story was often created in a manner more like extemporaneous theatre than a single-author work of fiction. Basic plot frameworks and direction were determined beforehand, but actual material was fleshed out during real-time internet “chat” sessions, using such programs as AOL Instant Messenger™. During these sessions, each author would assume the persona of their character, and would work out individual scenes and dialogue with the other authors. The scene would then be assigned to one of the participating authors. He or she would be free to refine and add detail to the scene as their individual style saw fit.

Editing this work for presentation in a novel format was a unique challenge on several fronts. As with most multi-author works, discrepancies and idiosyncrasies of style and grammar had to be standardized. In addition, the work had to be “scrubbed”, so to speak, for general publication. Like most communities, the Megatokyo forums have a unique set of in-jokes, acronyms, and well-known conventions that are not completely transparent to outsiders. While many of these were not important to the story, and could be easily removed, others were crucial to the narrative. Most terms that are unique to the Megatokyo world are contained in the Glossary in the back of the book, for ease of lookup. Those who feel like they might want the full “flavor” of the online experience can find the full, unabridged forum posts formatted for clarity on the included CD.

Another issue was that the setting of the story is in Japan, and so the story contains words and items that are not immediately familiar to most non-Japanese speaking people. By convention, all Japanese words are italicized. Those that are not familiar to most people are footnoted and defined upon their first presentation.

Also, the alternate reality of “Megatokyo: the Clans” is rife with factions, politics and intrigue, and has been so for several years before the story of OLSAL started. Background on the factions and their principal members is helpful to know the context in which the story takes place. This information is contained within the appendices.

As the OLSAL story gained attention and popularity, writers other than the original principals wanted to use the story as a vehicle to tell stories of their own. This was actively encouraged by the original authors, as long as their contributions were not too disruptive to the main plot. In fact, in many cases the writings by assisting authors were used for important character and inter-character development. However, in many cases the contributions added little to the main storyline. Well written as they may have been, they did not concentrate on the main points of the narrative. As such, they have been, extremely regretfully, removed. However, the full texts of these side-stories can also be found on the formatted original forum narrative located on the accompanying CD.

Finally, we have been honored by numerous works of art, poetry, songfics and “filks,” songs with the lyrics rewritten to relate to the story. Many of these have been included as well. We are honored by all of those who were thus inspired, and we thank them for their contributions.

We very much hope you enjoy this work, the first of three.

On with the show.

Prologue

Lightsider stood at the window, facing the nighttime cityscape of Megatokyo with his eyes shut. Ordinarily, the lights of the city from a high vantage point, such as the tower he was in, would have been beautiful and soothing.

Speaking of beautiful . . . . Lightsider could sense Tohru Mizuno standing behind him. The room they were in was a statement in quiet luxury. Light from a fire in the dark marble hearth flickered over rich wood paneling and brocaded draperies. It was the perfect setting for a romantic interlude.

Except this wasn’t some secluded hideaway. It was a prison. And they weren’t on some date.

They were hostages. Hostages of the Church of Miho, and their powerful leader, BGMaster.

Tohru heard Lightsider sigh, and stifled one of her own. She knew how helpless he felt. And, she was more worried about what the Church might to do him than what they might do to her. They'd been co-workers and friends at the UFL hospital for only a short while, but they'd become surprisingly close in that time. Tohru realized, for the first time, that she cared for him deeply. She shook her head slightly in self-mockery. Of all the men in Megatokyo, it had to be Lightsider.

As it turned out, Lightsider had some problems with women. Looking at any humanoid female would render the doctor unconscious within minutes. It was a condition he termed “kawaii sensitivity.” Unfortunately, the effect was vastly multiplied in Tohru’s case. She rendered him catatonic instantly, and he didn’t have to even be looking at her directly.

He’d be unconscious right now, if his eyes had been open. Their captors had taken a pair of enchanted glasses from Lightsider, the only thing that allowed the doctor to interact normally with society.

Tohru watched as the doctor opened the window. She frowned in confusion. How did he find the latch? she wondered. Strangely enough, Lightsider seemed to be looking out the window.

“Anou . . . what are you doing, Lightsider?” she asked.

“Looking for a way down,” the doctor replied.

“Looking . . . ? But your glasses . . . .”

Lightsider half turned to Tohru, and she could see that his eyes were still closed. “I can see through the Light,” he said simply.

Tohru considered this. She knew he had healing abilities through a power he called the “Light”, but he’d never indicated he could do anything else with it.

Lightsider expanded his awareness, careful to limit it around where he knew Tohru was. He wasn’t sure if Tohru’s extraordinary effect on his vision would affect him this way, so he decided to be cautious. Through the Light, he found out why the Church was comfortable with them in this luxury suite. The walls wouldn’t have given purchase to a spider. There were AA turrets in niches in the walls. Outside their room, he sensed more than a dozen guards, all with stun batons, tasers or gas grenades. Lightsider stifled a small sigh. There was no way anyone could get out of this room, unless you could . . . .

Fly.

Lightsider’s coat shimmered a bit. They seemed to soften and separate. Tohru watched in amazement as the white doctor’s coat became white, shining wings, spanning at least four meters. The wings unfurled from around Lightsider and stretched, as if exercising.

“What . . . what are these?” Tohru asked, amazed, and a little frightened. “You have wings?”

“Sorry,” Lightsider said. “I should have told you. I know it’s a bit of a shock when you first see them. I know it was for me.”

Tohru touched one of the wings. It was soft as a down pillow. “Are you some sort of angel or something?” Tohru asked.

Lightsider gave a short, bitter laugh. “Not even close,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about them later. Right now, we have to think about what to do.”

“You can fly us out of here . . . ,” Tohru suggested.

Lightsider shifted his gaze down to the ground, a hundred meters away. “I can’t really support two,” he said regretfully. “The best I could manage would be a controlled crash.”

“I’m not that heavy!” Tohru tried to joke, but neither laughed. They both knew that Lightsider would walk with Tohru to his own death before abandoning her. By impulse, the nurse buried her face in one of Lightsider’s wings. It felt so nice she sighed. Then she giggled.

Lightsider was startled by this. No one had ever done that before. He shifted his Sight to Tohru by reflex. She was blinding, radiant in the Light. Somehow, though, he wasn’t affected by her kawaii aura this way. Still, he mentally stared at her for what seemed like an age. Tohru noticed he seemed distracted.

“Something wrong?” she said. She was afraid she had stunned him again, but the feeling of his wings was too nice to let go.

How is this possible? Lightsider asked himself, staring at Tohru’s image in the Light. He shook off the astonishment, though. They hadn’t a moment to lose. Lightsider knew now they had everything they needed. He gently disengaged his wings from Tohru and turned to her.

“I think we can get out of here,” he said.

“How?” asked Tohru.

Lightsider almost laughed. “Through the window, of course!”

Tohru wasn’t laughing. “Controlled crash? No thanks.”

Lightsider smiled, and took Tohru’s hand. His other hand searched for her shoulder. “I’d only crash if I were carrying someone,” he said. “And you’re going to fly out of here on your own.”

Tohru pulled away from Lightsider, just a little bit. “My own?” She laughed nervously. “I can’t fly . . . .”

Lightsider pulled her back and put his arm on her shoulder again, more firmly this time. “Yes you can,” he said simply, and focused all of the Light at his disposal.

The wings that Tohru had had all along were ethereal. It was no wonder no one had ever noticed them, even her. Now, though, the Light being poured into her gave them substance and solidity. Tohru felt her feet leave the ground, as her new wings lifted her effortlessly.

Tohru laughed from the sheer exhilaration. Then she sighed.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Shadowdancer rode the wind. It smelled much better from up here, she noticed, and catching a thermal, rose up into the evening sky.

Flying to the Church had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Looking out the window had made her giddy, and she realized that she hadn’t flown in . . . well, the years didn’t matter to the deathless

Seeing the Church below her, she folded her wings against her sides, diving like a hawk. It was then she saw two pairs of wings fluttering around outside the Church’s spires. Slowing her descent the dark elf glided down in slow spirals. A man and a woman. Hm, she thought to herself. Aren’t those the hostages?

Shadowdancer murmured the words of a spell and trapped the two in a bubble of pure magic. It took them completely by surprise, and she was able to seal the magic around them with no resistance. Settling on the nearest spire, she beckoned the bubble to her, and watched as the startled faces of her prisoners swiftly became enraged.

“LET US OUT!” the man with wings of light demanded, pounding on the magical bubble.

Shadowdancer looked at him strangely. “Well, you escaped, didn’t you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re prisoners of the Church.”

“The battle is already finished!” the woman told her, pushing at the bubble too.

“Well, I’ll take you to my master. If the battle has indeed ended, I’ll let you go.” apologetically, the dark elf bowed. “So sorry. But if I allowed you to just escape like that, BG-sama would have my head. I’d rather err on the side of caution. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you unless you make me deem it necessary.”

“You’ll take us to BGMaster?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

Lightsider sighed. “I suppose we have no choice,” the man said resignedly.

“Then there isn’t any problem.” Shadowdancer drifted to the shadow of the spire. “We’ll take a short cut.”

With that, she stepped into the shadows, welcoming the darkness.

The shadows were like nothing Lightsider or Tohru had seen before. They were blacker than pitch, deeper than a starless night . . . and yet . . . they could see into it. It seemed to move and breathe, like a living creature. It was neither cold nor warm, but rather an odd, unexplainable absence of temperature. Lightsider hated it. This darkness was of a kind that was totally alien to him, yet at the same time, incredibly familiar. He shivered uncontrollably. It set every single nerve on edge, as if a thousand eyes, none of them friendly, yet none of them hostile, were staring at him, scrutinizing him as though he and Tohru were bugs pinned for display. It recognized him, and that turned his blood into ice.

In an effort to push the blackness back, he tried to brighten his aura, but to no avail. He wrapped his arms around Tohru, and they clung to each other in this timeless, fathomless void, which while empty was not lifeless. Shadowdancer walked in front of the bubble silently, her robes not making the slightest whisper.

Nurse Tohru Mizuno felt Lightsider try to move closer to her, and she reflexively put her arm around him. “What is it?” she asked.

There was a long silence as Lightsider looked out at the Shadows swirling just outside the bubble. They seemed to be watching him, searching him out.

Hunting him.

Lightsider shivered and tried vainly to keep his self-control. He couldn’t last another minute in this place. Just as he was about to go completely hysterical, a ray of light burst in on his prison, and on Nurse Mizuno.

“The Light! The blessed Light!” the man cried, just before he collapsed.

Lightsider woke with a start at his desk, and looked around, disoriented. It took him a moment to realize where he was; in his office at the UFL Hospital. It’d been more than a week, but the dreams were still there.

The doctor took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. If anything, the dreams were getting worse. He could still feel those living Shadows looking at him, remembering him.

What was it about that woman? What was it about her and her Shadows that haunted him, waking and sleeping?

The good doctor got up and went to the nurses’ station for a cup of cold water. His throat had been feeling raw and scratchy since his capture. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

Shadowdancer returned to her quarters. She had, by special permission, established a laboratory in the crypts, but her actual quarters were in one of the spires. Here, she slept, and did most of her actual artwork.

She was distracted, restless. She had barely heard BGMaster’s commendation of her timely capture of the escaped hostages, Dr. Lightsider and Nurse Tohru. She remembered having bowed at the end of his speech, murmuring something about it being for the service of the Lady Miho, and then slipping into the Shadows.

Idly, she wandered about her quarters, picking up a book and setting it down, feeding her pet python a mouse, taking a moment to refill her raven Morrigan’s feed cup. She plucked halfheartedly at her koto, played a few lazy sonatas on the piano. Nothing.

Her heart was filled with unease, restlessness.

She was lonely.

Shadowdancer bowed her head, delving into her memories, the memories that she kept locked in her soul, seeking solace. Murmuring a prayer, she saw in her mind her true Master, the Kami she served for so long, loving and raising her dearly as his favorite, who so mercifully allowed her to leave her place by his side and see the world which aroused her curiosity.

The memory of that sacred place brought about a measure of peace.

Then she remembered him. Her beloved.

With a strangled gasp, she brought herself out of her meditations. No! She was alone. She would always be alone...until she found him again . . . .

The grief threatened to tear her apart.

Her art. It would bring her peace . . . .

The dark elf stumbled on her robes, making her way to her easel. She sat on the chair and touched the sticks of charcoal, and closed her eyes.

The memory of Dr. Lightsider’s terror snaked into her consciousness. She saw him, vividly, heard his shattered breathing, the whimper of pure fear . . . .

She opened her eyes and looked at the easel, and there he was. The very image of terror, etched in shadow and pale white paper.

Looking at the doctor’s image, she frowned. Why was she now at peace? What did this mean? She did not know him, or why he was so terrified of the Shadow realm.

Perhaps he is just afraid of the dark.

Looking at his terrified eyes brought her strange calm. Before she knew it, dawn had risen, and Morrigan flew back in and returned to her perch.

Shadowdancer had spent the night gazing at the doctor’s face.

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