Gourry Gabriev was dead. Cause of death: a bespelled arrow buried to the fletching in his back fired from one of Seyrun's many rooftops as he made his way through the streets.
Since he had no home that he had ever spoken of, and no one could find anyone with or who knew of the surname of Gabriev, he was declared an honorary citizen and buried in the section of the royal crypt reserved for those who have given exemplary service to the kingdom.
Lina Inverse, his rumored lover, was fiery redhead. Standing just a shade over five feet, the compact-bodied sorceress was fair with the sword, deadly with a magical fireball, and the premier practitioner of Black Magic in the world. She was also rumored to be the only one with the ability to cast the Giga Slave, a spell so powerful, and so devastating, its name was spoken only in hushed whispers. She spent the time up to, during, and for several days after the funeral in a waking coma, eating only because of the efforts of Zelgadis Greywers, a chimera obsessed with finding a way to become human again.
Also in attendance was Ameila Wil Tesla, the crown princess of Seyrun, a compact, curvy brunette with a heart of gold, and athletic skills on par with Gourry's IQ. Still, aside from Gourry, she was probably the closest thing Lina had to a best friend and as such, she was, she felt, perfectly within her rights when, upon discovering Lina up and packing a bag, demanding to know what was going on.
"I'm leaving," Lina said flatly as she tightened the straps. "I can't stay here anymore."
"Why?"
"Why?" Lina half-shouted, and then her anger seemed to quickly deflate. "There's too many memories here Ameila, I can't ... I just can't, okay?"
"Okay," Ameila agreed, unsure what Lina was talking about, but agreeing anyway.
"Thanks," Lina said, shouldering the pack and striding out the door.
One week later.
Dinner, thought Xelloss Mettalium as he tumbled through the void, should not be interrupted for anything. There he had been, soaking up a tasty meal of pain and dispair in the dungeons of what was left of Sairrag when the dungeon walls had vanished and he was sent tumbling through a featureless void. Then just as suddenly as he had been taken, the tumbling stopped and he was somewhere else.
"Well really," Xelloss protested, dusting himself off. "Don't you know how rude it is to interrupt a man when he's dining? Even Juu-sama knows better." It was only then that he took a look around. I really ... suggest ... you ... oh my ... " Xelloss was standing on the Sea of Chaos, which meant ...
The Mazoku Lord you used to serve is no longer your concern said the voice behind him. You are mine now.
"L-sama," Xelloss said graciously as he turned, a wide smile on his face, to face the woman standing behind him. She was impossibly beautiful, in a ethereal sort of way and you were almost compelled to relax and enjoy the view. Xelloss, however, knew better. L-sama was not called the Lord Of Nightmares for nothing.
"Pardon?" he asked graciously. It was always wise to be polite to the Supreme Being.
You no longer serve the Mazoku, she intoned, her hidden eyes boring into his, you are now my avatar of chaos.
"As you wish," Xelloss said, inclining his head partially in respect, and partially to cover his confusion. "What do you wish for me to do?"
For now, you are to watch, and tell no one of who you now serve, she said, and Xelloss found himself back where he had been. But something was wrong.
When did they turn out the lanterns? he silently asked the darkness. It was then that he realized something else was wrong. "Oh my ... "
Seyrun Royal Archives, two hours later ...
"Very good," Prince Philoniel, the ruler of Seyrun congratulated his daughter as she finished with the economic figures for next year's projected wheat growth. Philoniel, or Phil, as he preferred to be called, was a barrel chested man. Tall, with arms like tree trunks, and a voice that could be heard across a parade ground, Phil was almost as obsessive about righting wrongs as his daughter. The difference was that he went knew the power of subtlety. Part of that power was that he insisted upon being refereed to as Prince, rather then King, which he technically was. To him, being a Prince, and thought of as a Prince, made him closer to the people, and in turn, they were closer to him.
On the other side of the room, Zelgadis looked up from an old scroll on transmutations at the sound of Phil's voice, and seeing nothing of interest to him, went back to reading. Just as he resumed reading, another voice broke in.
"Oh Ameila, I have the most wonderful news!" Looking up, Zelgadis found himself looking at Xelloss and there was something different about him. It took him a moment.
"When did you start going around with your eyes open?" Zelgadis asked irritably.
"Why since I got a ... oh let's call it a promotion. I, Xelloss, am Mazoku no more!"
"How nice," Zelgadis said and went back to his reading, figuring that Xelloss was up to his usual tricks but still split his attention between the scroll and the conversation on the other side of the room.
"What kind of promotion did you get Mister Xelloss?" Ameila was asking.
"I work for a higher power now," Xelloss said loftily.
"Justice?" Ameila asked, her eyes lighting up like twin suns.
"Now that," Xelloss said, wagging his finger at her, "is a secret."
"Oh tell me!" Ameila begged. "I promise I'll never tell anyone else!"
"Now, now, I promised," Xelloss said, assuming an expression of suffering. "Though I am rather annoyed that I can't see through my eyelids anymore." Ameila opened her mouth to respond when the sound of shouting reached them through the open window.
"What's going on Father?" Ameila asked when Phil went to investigate.
"It's a merchant and he's apparently demanding to see me," Phil replied. "He's most insistent."
"I know his type," Zelgadis said as he joined them at the window. "He won't shut up until he either sees you or the guards toss him into the dungeon."
"Well, then, I guess I'd better go see him."
"We'll come to, right Mister Zelgadis, Mister Xelloss?"
"Of course," Xelloss said grandly bowing and indicating the door. "After you."
"Of course," Zelgadis muttered under his breath as he trailed the others out, more to keep an eye on Xelloss then out of curiosity as too what was going on in the courtyard.
"But I must see the Prince!" The merchant was saying as they emerged into the courtyard. "It's a matter of international importance!"
"Yeah, yeah," the gaurd said cynically. "Look pal, I don't care if the wheat prices in the market have dropped two percent and your family has been supplying Seyrun with wheat for the past two thousand years. You want to see the king, you go see the Advisory Council's secretary, and he'll put you on the list."
"There's no time!" The merchant shouted. "This is vital!"
"I don't care if the Queen of Sarfa is in there," the gaurd said. "You talk to the Advisory Council secretary first, then we'll discuss you seeing the Prince."
"That's enough," Phil said as he joined them. "What's all this about?"
"Your highness!" The gaurd gasped, saluting. "I apologize for the disturbance, I'll have this miscreant thrown out immediately."
"No, no," Phil said, "As long as I'm out here, I might as well see what he wants."
"Thank you Your Highness," said a voice from the covered wagon. "I appreciate your taking the time." The curtains parted an lady wearing plain traveling clothes emerged. She was about Phil's age, with that almost invisible air about her that marked her as one of the Nobility and yet still a firm, curvaceous of a woman half her age. Zelgadis hid a slight smile as he heard the prince's sharp intake of breath and watched him straighten up. "I am the Baroness Merona DeMerle," the woman continued, "I and my men were on our way to Market with this year's wheat when while setting up camp by the Sarin River, we discovered something in the water. It was ... well, perhaps you should just see for yourself. It's in the back."
"I'll look," Zelgadis said and stepped forward. For perhaps a minute, there was silence from the back and then they heard a single word oath.
"What is it Mister Zelgadis?" Ameila asked.
"Ameila, go get the fastest horse you can find, then go to the local chapter of the Professional Magician's society, and tell them you need a Verifier, the best they have." Xelloss' head tilted slightly as Zelgadis was giving off huge amounts of rage, confusion, and grief.
"But why?"
"Go!" Zelgadis roared. Ameila went.
"What is it?" Phil asked cautiously when Ameila was gone. A Verifier was a sorcerer who knew only one set of spells; Those having to with the verification of identity. In a world of disguise spells, chimeras, magically created clones, and other such ilk, a Verifier was the only way to prove that someone was who they claimed to be. They were also useful in identifying dead bodies when there was no other way to figure out who they were.
"Come see for yourself," Zelgadis growled. Phil and Xelloss rounded the wagon and took a look. What they saw rendered them temporarily speechless. Not surprisingly, it was Xelloss who spoke first.
"Well, I guess we now know why I got ... promoted."
Lying in the back of the wagon, her clothes shredded, her skin the consistency of raw meat, and a massive hole in her chest, the blackened edges suggesting a fireball had done the deed, was Lina Inverse.
Three hours before Midnight, Goat Lane, Seyrun, Seven Years Later ...
Zelgadis sighed as he eyed the poster proclaiming Ameila's coronation. After well over twenty years, Phil was retiring to spend more time with Merona, who had graciously consented to become his wife and it was no secret that Ameila's first act after her coronation would be to throw a huge wedding for her Father and new stepmother.
How ironic, he thought to himself as he pulled his hood and mask further over his face. That today we grieve, and tomorrow we celebrate. Pausing, he sighed as he looked down an avenue that if one were to follow it for a small distance, they would come to the town square where a statue of Lina had been erected in her memory. Seven years, has it really been that long? Like Gourry, Lina had been named an honorary citizen of Seyrun and, rather appropriately, had been laid to rest next to Gourry. The difference though was that Lina had received such treatment because Zefila wanted nothing to do with it's most infamous prodigal daughter.
And even more fustratingly, they refused to say why, he grumbled silently as he resumed his journey towards a small shop at the south end of Goat Lane in a more disreputable part of the city. Of course, that hadn't stopped speculation and conspiracy theories. Shaking his head at such mass stupidity and rampant wastes of time, Zelgadis pulled his hood further forwards and continued onwards.
The shop was a small, neatly kept establishment tucked away in a small cul-de-sac. The name of it according to the sign over the door, was "Tatiana's House of Spells, Gifts, and Charms. T.S. Bansheena, Propieter".
Entering, his nose was greeted with assorted scents and his eyes with soft colors. There was sort of an sense of inner peace about the place and almost against his will, Zelgadis felt himself relax.
"May I be of some assistance Sir?" The voice was soft and flavored with the accents of the people who resided in the far north. Zelgadis turned. Standing between two pieces of shelving was a young lady, more of a girl dressed in white monk's robe made out of some soft material. She was about as tall as Amelia, with pale skin, alabaster colored hair and blue eyes. There was something about the set of her cheekbones that sparked a flare of memory in the chimera. He knew he had seen her before. "Sir?" She asked again. "Was there something?"
Zelgadis cleared his throat. "Yes, I understand you deal in rare books as well as spells and charms."
"I do sir," she replied. "What was it you were looking for?" In answer, Zelgadis pulled down his mask.
"A counter to my curse," he said flatly. Her response was not fright or disgust, but almost that of a scholar discovering some hidden gem of knowledge. Without hesitation, she walked to him, reached up and touched the stones embedded in his cheek and he felt the brief flare of a probing spell.
"A master-level fusion spell," she said softly. Zelgadis said nothing, she was obviously not talking to him. She turned away from him and headed into the back room, still muttering to herself. Moments later, she returned carrying big book bound in leather.
"A grimore," Zelgadis breathed.
"Yes," she replied. "It's at least a thousand years old. It focuses entirely on the creation of fused beings. Very few copies still exist in this day and age."
"I would imagine so," Zelgadis said reverently as he took the book from her and very carefully began to look through it. "This could be just what I've been searching for. Thank you."
"You're welcome," she said, smiling at him and flashing her dimples. Then she clasped her hands before her and broached the subject of price.
When Zelgadis exited the shop and took a look up at the sky, he noted the position of the moon and was startled to discover nearly four hours had passed since he had entered. After the subject of price had been settled, she had asked how he had been cursed in the first place. Zelgadis had answered and from there they had just started talking about anything and everything.
What a mind, he thought as he pulled his hood and mask back into place, as he headed back towards the palace. Lina would've loved to meet her. At that thought, he let out a sigh. He still missed her and he knew he always would. But as he rounded a corner, the book in his hand bumped his arm and he smiled. He was one step closer to a cure, he could feel it.
And once you've found it, then what? a voice in his mind argued. Settle down in Seyrun? Perhaps find a wife and raise a family? The thought brought a smile to his lips. The notion of being called "Father" suddenly seemed like a good idea.
The sound of breaking glass from somewhere nearby jerked him out of his reverie and he cursed himself for being so caught up in the future that he neglected the present. Banishing such thoughts, he resumed walking and ducked into an alleyway that he knew would deposit him on one of the city's main thoroughfares. As he passed the exit of the alleyway, his ears caught the sounds of boots on stone, the clinking of chain, and the rasp of steel moving against leather.
They came from doorways, from the alleyway behind him, and from across the street. Men and women in a variety of clothing and wielding a variety of weapons. Seyrun's street gangs. Usually they kept each other in check with their frequent fights which the City Gaurd often caused by spreading false rumors. Narrowing his eyes as his hand sought the hilt of his sword under his cloak, the chimera took a head count.
He counted at least hundred and fifty individuals and at least ten different color schemes. He was dealing with at least ten gangs then.
"Something I can help you with gentlemen?" He asked, keeping his tone light. The response was a snicker. "I have no money on me," Zelgadis continued, "and as such, engaging in any business with me would be a waste of your time." Again, a snicker ran through the crowd.
"Not a waste of our time," said one of the men, a brutish looking fellow with a goatee. "Somebody wants you dead and they're willing to hand over lots and lots of gold to make it happen." He grinned, it was not a pleasant one. "We always try to oblige a lady."
Zelgadis said nothing, he only threw back his cloak and drew his sword. While he had stone skin, magic, superior strength, speed, and stamina, they had the advantage of numbers. He would have to move quickly to remedy that. "Earth below me," he intoned, resting his hand on the sidewalk, "submit to my -- " he broke off as a crossbow bolt whistled past his ear and bounced off the brick behind him. "Fireball!" He cried, and leapt into battle, swinging the sword in broad sweeps.
And though he tried valiantly, they eventually overwhelmed him through sheer force of numbers.
"Not so mighty now are you?" sneered one of the gang members as others forced Zelgadis to his knees in the blood that covered the cobblestones. Miraculously, he still had the book and it remained undamaged. Zelgadis said nothing, he merely prepared himself for death's cold embrace as the survivors continued to gloat.
Where was the City Gaurd? he wondered. Surely some patrol would have heard the noise by now. His eyes narrowed as another thought followed on the heels of the first one. Unless all the patrols in the area were either paid to be deaf or distracted. And then a third thought came along. Gourry and Lina, both dead. Then I get attacked. Twice is coincidence. Three times is deliberate. His eyes widened. AMELIA! Launching himself to his feet and fighting with energy born of desperation, Zelgadis kicked and punched his way through the crowd. Just as he reached the fringe, a morningstar hit him in the face and he went down hard. Zelgadis tried to get up, even with bells ringing in his ears, but his legs refused to cooperate. Then he heard laughter. It was mocking, forcing it's way past the bells and dancing a jig on his eardrums.
"Murder is a crime," rang out a voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere and yet no where. "And wherever there is crime, there is punishment. For Justice must be served." Then the laughter again.
"Who?" Said one of the gang members.
"Urk!" was the reply. Turning as best he could, Zelgadis saw that something was moving through the group and he caught flashes of fist shaped black mist. Within moments, there was only three left standing, one of them was the man who had spoken to him earlier. For a moment, there was but silence and then the laughter began again. But this time, it had a partner, a shadow of a hooded a figure that crept across the walls and road and rising up on the supports for an overpass. Turning, Zelgadis' wounds were already healing, the chimera saw a figure standing in the pale circle of light cast by the street lamps. From the build, and what he could see of the face in the shadow of the hood and of that, what wasn't covered by the red scarf, he judged the newcomer to be a young woman. She was not that tall, and dressed in black clothing under a large cloak. Twin swords hung at either hip and despite the shadows, he could see that her eyes were red.
"Dragon's blood!" gasped one of the gang members still standing. "She's real!" Taking advantage of the distraction, Zelgadis grabbed one of the flunkies and spinning him around, gave him a textbook right cross to the jaw. The thug went down even as Zelgadis wrapped his arm around the throat of the leader. Realizing he was outnumbered, the other one fled.
"Your employer forgot to mention that Chimeras heal fast," Zelgadis whispered in the man's ear. "Now what I want to know is, who is she?" The thug didn't answer. Zelgadis tightened his grip. "Who?" He demanded. "Tell me who hired you?"
"Go to hell," was the reply. Growling, Zelgadis slammed the man against a nearby wall.
"Already been there," Zelgadis said to the prone form as he retrieved his sword and the grimore. Saved by a mysterious woman who fights crime in the name of justice Turning, he started back towards the palace at a run. His mind burned with one single thought.
Amelia and I are going to have words.
Part 2 | Fanfiction