This is either a teaser for a longer fic, or just a
complete shortfic, depending on whether or not anyone
wants to see more of this.  :-)


Family Ties


Rezo felt it, when the boy was born.  Half a continent
away, right in the middle of a casting a complicated
spell to heal some foolish street urchin who had
broken
his back falling out of an apple tree... and he still
felt it.

*What is this?* he thought, so surprised by the
overwhelming call of the newborn's strangely familiar
life force that he nearly lost his concentration for
the spell.  The crippled boy lying at his feet moaned
in pain, snapping his attention back to his current
situation.  Cursing silently for allowing himself to
be
distracted, Rezo finished the spell by rapping the
base
of his staff against the stone-cobbled street.  The
metal rings that adorned the jeweled ornament atop his
staff jangled with commanding resonance, and the boy
was bathed in a bright halo of bluish light that
expanded to fill the surrounding area.  The crowd that
had gathered to watch the spectacle shielded their
eyes
and gasped as they felt the tingle of residual power
ripple across their skin.  Later, those people would
notice that any minor aches, pains, scratches, cuts
and
bruises that they had accumulated throughout their
daily labors had all vanished in that blinding moment.

Rezo didn't even spare a moment to reflect on the
usual
irony that, while he could mend a severed spinal cord
with relative ease, he couldn't even open his own
eyes.

The moment the spell was complete, Rezo lifted his
head
and gazed into the distance, ignoring the urchin's cry
of delight and gratitude as the boy slowly staggered
to
his feet like a newborn foal; ignoring the usual gasps
of amazement and awe from the crowd.  His sealed eyes
saw nothing but the ever-present darkness, but his
inner sight was already far beyond the confines of the
walled city, beyond mountains, valleys, lakes and
rivers, searching, searching...

...finding.

A large, comfortable room.  Thick carpeting. 
Lacquered
oak furniture.  A canopied bed, all velvet and lace
and
sweaty, blood-stained sheets.  And a woman in the bed,
still gasping from exertion, her skin and hair damp
with perspiration; yet she was beautiful and smiling
as
she reached out...

"A healthy boy, my lady," the midwife said, placing
the
bundled infant in the woman's arms.

Rezo wasn't in the least bit surprised to find that
the
woman was his daughter.  He had suspected it from the
first moment he had felt the birth.  He *was* a bit
surprised to discover that she was now a woman, old
enough to be married and bear children.  Almost *too*
old to bear children, he realized, for she appeared to
be in her late forties.  *Ah,* he thought with mild
amazement that bordered on annoyance at the reminder. 
*Has it been so long?*

He had never known the girl personally, having left
her
mother before she was born to continue his search for
the cure to his blindness.  And he had no desire to
consort with another ill-begotten result of a lapse in

his personal judgement.  Besides, it appeared the girl

had fared well enough, even without whatever dubious 
fatherly guidance he might have given...

But this was nothing out of the ordinary.  She had
given birth, and he had yet another unwanted grandson
to his name.  Why, then, had he felt the infant so
strongly?  The birth of his own children hadn't even
stirred his notice in the least... and yet, with this
child, the pull on his soul had been strong -- strong
enough to distract him in the middle of a healing
trance, which was unheard of...

The answer to Rezo's unspoken question chose that
moment to walk through the bedroom door, thus giving 
him one of the greatest shocks of his life.

Rezo's forty-something daughter raised her loving gaze
from the infant in her arms... and favored Rezo's
other
grandson -- the son of his son by another woman; a
strapping young lad in his mid-twenties -- with a 
radiant smile.

"He has your eyes," she said warmly.

Shaken to the core, Rezo snapped his inner sight back
to his physical body.

He noted absently that the crowd was pressing around
him now, begging for more miracles as usual, not
noticing or not caring about his momentary lapse into
an astral trance.  Without a word, he pulled his
scarlet robes protectively around himself and vanished
from under their grasping fingers.

He materialized in the main hall of Shabranigdo's
tower.  Using his staff to support himself, he
staggered like an old man to a nearby cushioned chair
and sank down wearily.  A twitch of his fingers, and a
goblet of wine appeared in his hands.  Sipping
gratefully, he wondered if he could possibly calculate
the odds... and immediately gave up.  Who could have
predicted, when he had indulged in affairs with two
completely unrelated women who lived on virtually
opposite ends of the world from each other, that their
offspring would meet, marry... and have more
offspring?

His daughter.  And his grandson.  That mean that the
infant was both his grandson... and his
great-grandson? 

Rezo groaned aloud.  By the Dark Lord....  What a
mess.

At least he now understood why the infant's new life
had called to him with such unusual power.  His blood
ran in the child's veins twice over, after all...

Rezo frowned at the thought.

This could cause... complications.

Leaning back and resting his head against the back of
the chair, he reluctantly cast his inner vision out
once again.  Whether he liked it or not, this bore
further investigation.

The midwife was gone from the room when he returned, 
and Rezo found his daughter and grandson cuddled 
against each other, acting for all the world as if
they 
didn't know they were blood-related.  Which, under the

circumstances, was quite possible.  The oblivious 
couple gazed adoringly down at the bundled infant.

Even now, Rezo realized with a start, he could feel
the
power coming off the boy in waves.  Power that was raw
and untamed.  Power that was sure to attract all kinds
of attention -- mostly the wrong kind of attention.

There were several resentful Mazoku, he knew, who
would
immediately recognize the source of the child's power,
and wouldn't hesitate to use such power against him.

Yes, Rezo mused grimly.  Something definitely needed
to
be done about this child.

And perhaps, just perhaps, something...
advantageous...
could be salvaged from this breeding disaster...

"Have you decided on a name for your firstborn son?"
his daughter asked, looking up into her husband's
face.

"Zelgadis," his grandson replied without hesitation,
as
he reached down to gently brush a lock of pale violet
hair from the infant's forehead..

"Zelgadis," his daughter repeated with soft approval.

"Zelgadis," Rezo whispered, and his solitary voice
echoed within the walls of the Tower of the Dark Lord.



Um... to be continued? ^_^




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