Before I get into it, I'll just make a quick mention... This fic WAS
inspired by The Red Priest's fic, 'Family Ties'... Anyways, now that thats
over, here we go
<standard Slayers Disclaimer>
Prologue: Origins
"Hold on, just a little longer, Dear!" He cried,
fraught with worry and rage.
"I... I don't know if I can," she replied, between
breaths.
Rodan's heart was already pumping faster than he
thought was naturally possible. The events that had
unfolded itself before them now just amplified it. His
wife was in labour.
As the two of them ran from the unseen hordes behind
them, Leanna stumbled.
"Leanna, come on. You've got to hold on until we can
reach safety."
She shook her head. "I can't..." she let out a sob.
"The contractions are too close together."
"Leanna, please. Hold out a little longer!"
She shook her head. "I can't Rodan," she cried. "I
just can't."
Rodan frowned. He looked off into the distance of
the night.
"We'll never survive."
"You've got to do something!" She cried. "Anything!"
He sighed. "There is one thing, but you may not like
it."
Leanna let her eyes tear up. "What?"
"I've only the power for one."
Leanna looked down. "It's coming."
"Then so be it. I love you, Leanna."
She looked up. "And I, you, Rodan."
He looked into the distance again. Now, the oncoming
hordes which had seemed so many moment earlier had shown
themselves. Three menacing figures stood, grimacing in
the night.
"AIR VALM!" He called out. The figures strode forth.
"What can you do, Rodan? Your strength will not
hold the barrier for long," one of them taunted.
"Silence, denizen of the Mazoku." He turned to pay
attention to his wife.
"We will take the light sword, Rodan. Even if we
must take it from your rotting corpses," another
announced.
Leanna was too busy pushing.
"I see the head, dear. Keep pushing."
"A child," the third laughed, "We will feast well
tonight, my friends."
Leanna ignored the taunts from outside of the small
barrier, only large enough to keep them an arms length
from the creatures beyond. She pushed.
Rodan's eyes widened as the child within her gave
way, a delightful cry. Had he not been faced with such a
dire situation, he would have weeped in joy himself.
"Such a wicked racket. We shall have to silence the
child, friends," one of the Mazoku said, showing a row
of sharp teeth.
"It's a boy, Leanna," he smiled. "A boy."
Leanna smiled. She was too exhausted to say a word,
but she smiled nonetheless.
Carefully taking his dagger from his belt, he
pressed it against the umbelical cord. With a swift
movement, it was cut. The crying child did not seem to
notice.
"Rodan?"
"Yes?"
"Let me hold him. Just once."
Rodan slowly and carefully handed his son to his
wife, making sure to prop his head up. Lwanna smiled as
she took the baby boy into her arms.
"I want to name him, Rodan. I want to name him
Gourry."
Rodan smiled. "Gourry Gabriev. His name shall be
known."
"Yes, we will remember him as a delightful snack,"
one of the Mazoku taunted. Again, it went ignored.
"The barrier will fall soon."
Leanna looked up at him. "Where?"
Rodan sighed in thought. "Where we met."
Leanna closed her eyes. "We will always be with you,
dear Gourry."
Rodan removed his tunic and wrapped it around his
son, tucking the hilt with no blade safely inside of it.
He placed his hand on the child's forehead.
"Always remember us, son," he cried, letting a tear
flow from him.
And then he was gone.
The three Mazoku stood speechless for a moment.
Eventually, one spoke.
"What have you done with the sword of light, human?"
Rodan narrowed his eyes. "I've sent it somewhere
where you won't be able to find it."
"You shall die slowly for this, human!"
"Then we shall."
"Rodan?"
Rodan looked down at his wife, who was now
beginning to tear up. He passed her his dagger.
"Do it quickly. I won't allow these creatures to lay
a finger upon you."
Leanna blinked. She was not afraid, not by far. What
she had seen in the past several years of marriage to
Rodan Gabriev, keeper of the sword of light ahd ensured
that.
Leanna did it quickly and painlessly, so as not to
allow the monsters the pleasure, or Rodan the pain of
hearing her yell out.
A moment later, the barrier dropped.
The Mazoku attacked. They kept their promise to
Rodan. He died slowly, watching the body of his wife
desecrated by the monsters, and then consumed. Soon
after, Rodan fell to the afterlife.
The Mazoku stood in silence. None remained of the
two humans that only hours earlier, had killed several
of their kind.
"What will we do?" Asked the large one.
"Search for him," replied the short one.
"And where shall we look?" Asked the middle one.
"Everywhere. We shall search the planes."
"And if we do not find him?"
The short one laughed. "We will. Even if it takes us
a millenia, we will find the sword of light."
The large and middle one bowed to the short one. "We
do your bidding."
The short one merely laughed.
****
That's it... ^_^ If you've got any comments, or would like to see this
continued, let me know!
-------------------------
| The TydRipper | "'Tis an old saying, the Devil
| | lurks behind the cross. All is
| Master of the Tides, | not gold that glitters. From the
| Devourer of noodles, | tail of the plough, Bamba was
| Writer of the Fanfic, | made King of Spain; and from his
| Baka to the end... | silks and riches was Rodrigo
------------------------- cast to be devoured by snakes."
- Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote
Questions? Comments? Flames? Email Me.
~ The TydRipper
http://www.ryo-oh-ki.net/tydi-oh-ki
ICQ UIN: 41450221
[Take my love, it is not true,
So let it tempt no body new;
Take my lady, she will sigh
For my bed where'er I lie;
Take them, said the skeleton,
But leave my bones alone.
Take my raiment, now grown cold,
To give to some poor poet old;
Take the skin that hoods this truth
If his age would wear my youth;
Take them, said the skeleton,
But leave my bones alone.
Take the thoughts that like the wind
Blow my body out of mind;
Take this heart to go with that
And pass it on from rat to rat;
Take them, said the skeleton,
But leave my bones alone.
Take the art which I bemoan
In a poem's crazy tone;
Grind me down, though I may groan,
To the starkest stick and stone;
Take them, said the skeleton,
But leave my bones alone.]
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) -
Complaint of the Skeleton to Time