Well, here I am, starting on another Slayers fic. This one will be realitivly
short, two, maybe three chapters. Wouldja believe that this started out as a
"Lina becomes Batwoman" (Because can you really see Lina calling herself
"Batgirl"?) fic?
Ah well, C&C is welcome, as long as it takes off it's shoes before coming in.
=)
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/5268/Fanfic/fanfic.html
<Disclaimer on Web Page>
Agreeable Komodo
He who bought it, supplied it.
Just say yes to prophylactics.
A session with a fortune teller:
"I see you with a house, a dog, and 2.5 kids."
"Two kids huh?"
"No, 2.5. The Dog ate half of the third one."
**********
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 clo
thes 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 whi
te 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.'