"GRANDFATHER!" Zelgadis screamed. "Grandfather, where are you?!"
"Zelgadis, STOP THAT!" Someone slapped his face, sending the boy reeling. The frail youth hit the wall and slumped to the floor, a slight trickle of blood escaping his busted lip. His eyes unfocused for a moment as pure agony ripped through his head.
"Rezo-sama..." He whimpered.
"What do you want, Zelgadis?" The Red Priest asked in a tone cold enough to freeze water on the hottest day of summer.
"I..." The youth grimaced at his elder, trying to fall back into his adult-like manner. "Why do you hate me, Rezo-sama?" He licked the sticky blood from his lips before continuing. "Why do you hate me, Grandfather?"
Rezo hit the boy again.
"You are not to call me that." He reprimanded him.
"Tell me why you hate me, Grandfather!" Zelgadis struggled to his feet, his anger rolling off his delicate form in waves of energy.
"You want to know why?" Rezo hissed, leaning down to be at eye level with the child. "I hate you because you are a good for nothing weakling. Look at yourself, Zelgadis. You can't hold up a sword, or even cast a light spell. You're pathetic."
"I'm only five years old, Grandfather!" He shouted back. "It's impossible for me to hold those damn swords of yours because they're twice my height and weight!"
"Hmph." The wise man snorted, drawing up to his full towering height. "Some excuse."
"WHAT MORE CAN YOU POSSIBLY ASK OF ME?!" Zelgadis cried, then regained his composure. "I came to you because I had a nightmare, and I thought you'd care to know about it."
"Oh, really." The sage gave him a look of cool disinterest.
"Yes, I'd thought you'd want to be informed." The child's voice took on an air of pure agony that no living being should ever have known. In my dream, Grandfather, you killed me, ate my heart, and became the Dark Lord Shabranigdo. A girl came, with hair like fire, and she brought me back to life. She fought you, and she destroyed Shabranigdo. Can you believe that, Grandfather? The Great Red Priest and Dark Lord, beaten by a little girl." His eyes held tears that wen unshed as he turned and ran down the hall silently.
"Hmph." Rezo thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Shabranigdo, eh?"
Rodimus found Zelgadis in the armory, trying to lift a broad sword with no success.
"What are you doing, eh, little one?" He asked, easily picking up sword and child with one hand. "This thing is nearly three times your height and weighs almost twice what you do." Zelgadis gave him a glace that could have wilted flowers.
"I know that, Rodimus-san," he replied cooly, "but Rezo-sama said I was too weak, and that's why he hates me." The boy squirmed out of the older man's grasp, draging the sword with him.
"Surely he can't hate you, Zelgadis." Rodimus took the weapon and hung it in it's rightful place. "He saved you from the Wastelanders, didn't he?"
"I think he only did that because we're related." He muttered bitterly as the elder teacher handed him a dagger to practice with.
"You're five years old, Zelgadis. How much can he ask of you?" The adult corrected the youth's stance and grip.
"That's what I want to know. " He took a few practice stabs before glinging it at the door in frustration.
"Dinner - " Zolf pushed open the door and was given an unexpected hair cut as the dagger embedded itself up to the hilt in the wall behind him.
"Oops." Zelgadis giggled, and Rodimus couldn't help but join in. "Gomen nasai, Zolf-san."
The green hared sorcerer blinked twice, then fainted. Both Rodimus and Zelgadis burst into hysterics.
Time passed quickly; days flew by and were lost in the endless training that young Zelgadis threw himself into with unhealthy fevor. It seemed like a strange, mysterious dance, with each step yielding a new weapon. Sun and moon spun on their paths; summer vanquished spring and fell to autumn, which gave way to winter. Each in their turn witnessed the child blossom into adulthood all too quickly. Ancient powers watched helplessly as their once companion distanced himself further and further in order to ear the respect and affection of a man trapped in pure darkness.
"HYAA!" Zelgadis yelled, eyes focused on a target only he could see. "Jiyaa! Hua! IAA!" He brought the deadly blade down in a clean arc, burying it deep into the trunk of a dead tree.
Not good enough, he thought. "I want to be strong. Strong. Strong." Maybe then Grandfather will accept me. Maybe he won't hate me.
The soft clang of the Red Priest's stave sent chills down his spine, and he turned to greet his grandfather. The crimson aura that filled his vision caused him to gasp.
"You wish to be strong, Zlegadis?" Rezo asked with a morbid smile. "Help me search for the Philosopher's Stone, and I will grant you power beyond your wildest dreams. You will be completely transformed."
Just because he's never been too close doesn't mean he'd hurt me. Zelgadis thought, looking up at his grandfather. He may not be the most affectionate relative, but he's MY relative... He wouldn't hurt me.
The trust and innocence in the youth's clear blue eyes was painfully burned away by the blood red light coming from the sphereical gem mounted atop the wise man's stave.
Grandfather! He thought viciously, as the pain increased tenfold. Betrayed me... How COULD you? I TRUSTED YOU! I PUT MY LIFE IN YOUR HANDS! betrayed by my own kin.... my only kin.... Damn you Rezo!!!
YOU DESTROYED My Life Before I got to live it... grandfather...