Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragonball Victory : Legends Never Die ❯ XIII ( Chapter 13 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Faia Saiyajin 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Occult / Martial Arts / Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.26.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 177 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Occult / Martial Arts / Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.26.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 177 | Status: Completed
Chapter XIII
With a gasp, Kaeru surfaced, her vision blocked by a wall of dripping wet hair. Her fingers released the large stone, and she felt it scrape past her toes, on its way to the lowest depths of the pool.
Using her forearm to fling her hair from her face, Kaeru caught her breath. "Eight minutes, 39 seconds. Not bad, old girl. Not bad at all."
Having proven that her lung capacity was well beyond normal standards, Kaeru started on her next feat of aquatic acrobatics. Fetching her five hundred pound shirt from a rock, she held it in her arms, fighting the weight that threatened to pull her under.
Taking in a great deal of air, Kaeru allowed herself to sink 3 feet below the water's surface, and started to kick. Starting on lap 1 of 50, Kaeru swam, coming up for air every 8 minutes and 39 seconds.
When this was finished, and her arms and legs had cramped from the strain, she tossed the shirt away. Using the large rocks that formed the shore, she pulled herself along, to a partially submerged ledge, formed by a large rectangular hunk of stone, a rounded boulder providing the backrest. Sighing once she reached her perch, Kaeru settled down, going perfectly still, save for the lower half of her hair, made buoyant by the water. Closing her eyes, ignoring the drip-drip-drop of water falling from her hair to the bridge of her nose, Kaeru methodically sealed off the world around her, until she was drifting in serene meditation.
By this time, Popo had started the outdoor portion of his tendings. He hadn't yet seen Dende inside the building, and calling for him by the front door did not summon Kami-sama.
"Odd..." He shrugged, figuring that Dende was catching a Nameckjin-style nap somewhere. Humming lightly to himself, watering can swinging to and fro in his left hand, he turned his attention to the Forget-Me-Nots in the closest box. Sprinkling them lightly with water, he sang his little song for them, when something made him look up.
There, laying in a heap of robes, was Dende, still unconcious. Popo went stock-still for a fraction of a second, when the splash of water against his foot brought him back to reality. Leaving the dropped watering can behind, he ran for him.
"Kami-sama? Kami-sama, answer me!" A gentle shake on his back turned rougher, as the youth refused to wake. He hesitantly abandoned the unconcious Dende for the main building. Long before he reached the doors, he called out with all of his mental capacity. "Piccolo, help me!!!"
The blood and sweat from his fight with Kaeru had long been carried away down the drain, yet Piccolo remained in the shower, his eyes closed, feeling the sting of the water against his flesh, and the warm whisper of the steam that filled the room. Almost eerily synchronized, the call of Mister Popo and cold water hit him at once. Nearly jumping out of his skin, with a double dose of the chills from the lack of hot water and Popo's anguished communication, Piccolo was out the bathroom door, wrapping a plush blue towel around his waist in the process.
He and Popo nearly collided with each other in the hall, the ebony assistant barely having the faculties to relay the news on the unconcious Kami-sama, before Piccolo had phased out of sight.
Both he and Popo appeared on either side of Dende. Lifting the God in his arms, throwing a remorseful prayer skywards, Piccolo didn't spare a moment, getting Dende inside, laying him on the bed in the central room.
"W-What's happened to him?"
"I don't know for sure. Get me some water. Now."
Now freed of Popo's nursemaid hysterics, thanks to the water decoy, Piccolo calmed his racing heart, which had been lapped by his brain several times over. Once mental and physical disturbances were clear, he closed his eyes, reaching to touch Dende on the forehead. The preceeding antennae there brushed against his fingers, Piccolo nearly recoiling at the shock they sent up. But that unpleasant tingle couldn't even compare to what would happen next.
Once his palm rested safely on the smoothe pate of the Nameckjin, Piccolo found himself pummeled by the waves of mentally communicated suffering. Steeling his resolve, he forced his way past the barrier of fear, finding himself standing in a void, buffeted by howling winds, teetering on the very brink of Chaos itself.
Dende was easy to find in the pervasive blackness, but getting his attention was much more difficult. Piccolo's words were lost in the winds. He grit his teeth, calling upon his will, resulting in a burst of ki, although this was much brigher than normal, as it had no layer of flesh and bone to shine through.
It did little to clear the blackness, but Dende was indeed attracted to the meager light Piccolo radiated, turning around to face him, the Godly aura around Dende the color of tarnished silver.
*Kami-sama, I am here. Come to me, we will leave this place.*
*Piccolo... can you hear it?* The unspoken words were barely audible in Piccolo's mind. Cocking his head, Piccolo strained to hear whatever it was that agitated Dende enough that it would drive him to this unholy setting. Below the winds, and below the agony emanating from Dende, he heard it. It was quiet at first, until it grew louder, overpowering the storm, echoing in his ears.
A scream. A terrible, loud, high-pitched shriek. No.. wait. It was many. Thousands of screams, channeled into one. Pained and frightened, these multitudes were focusing all of their emotions through a single conduit, which was what had stricken Dende so.
Fighting against the urge to collapse into the void along with Dende, he snarled at the invisible body that contained the wails. *Back, damn you!* All the while, his ki was steadily increasing in brightness, the displaced God drawn towards it, like a moth to flame. *Away from me! Now!* He commanded, using his anger to increase his strength, to quell the screams, until they were competing for volume with the wind. When the shaking image of Dende was safe in his arm, he felt the screams surge again, not yet ready to give up their victim. Piccolo found himself opening his free hand, pointing it at the endless Chaos, a ball of energy convulsing against his palm. *You will not have him!* He roared, sending a monstrous bolt of power into the darkness, which seemed to rip in two, fraying and unravelling like cloth. *GET YOU GONE!!!*
Coming to, blinded by a sudden whiteness, Piccolo opened his eyes, which slowly adjusted to his surroundings. He nor Dende had moved, although the God's eyes were open. They were sunken, his face still haunted by what he had felt.
*Too long.* Piccolo thought. *He was there too long. Heard too much.* Pulling his hand free, he jumped, nearly loosing his towel and his cool as Popo burst through the door, carrying a pitcher of water and a glass on a plain silver tray.
The squat man nearly burst into tears when he saw that Dende was awake, but silent, and he sat the tray down, standing by his bed. "Kami-sama, are you alright?"
Dende smiled weakly, turning to look at the frantic Popo. "Yes. Piccolo saved me."
"It was a vision." Piccolo said simply, looking down at Dende, his brow furrowed in concern. "Or at least something like a vision."
"Whatever it was... it was horrid." Kami-sama sighed, taking the glass of water Dende offered.
"Do you know where it came from?"
"No, Piccolo. It was too erratic for me to pinpoint its location. It was just so violent and uncontrolled."
"What did it mean?" Popo asked, his narrow-set eyes wide.
"It was a bad omen, unmistakably. It could only mean one thing." Dende had pushed himself to a sitting position, looking at the glass of water he held in his lap. "Those were the screams of innocents. Evil has once again shown its face. I just hope I can locate its source before it is too late for those thousands..."
With a gasp, Kaeru surfaced, her vision blocked by a wall of dripping wet hair. Her fingers released the large stone, and she felt it scrape past her toes, on its way to the lowest depths of the pool.
Using her forearm to fling her hair from her face, Kaeru caught her breath. "Eight minutes, 39 seconds. Not bad, old girl. Not bad at all."
Having proven that her lung capacity was well beyond normal standards, Kaeru started on her next feat of aquatic acrobatics. Fetching her five hundred pound shirt from a rock, she held it in her arms, fighting the weight that threatened to pull her under.
Taking in a great deal of air, Kaeru allowed herself to sink 3 feet below the water's surface, and started to kick. Starting on lap 1 of 50, Kaeru swam, coming up for air every 8 minutes and 39 seconds.
When this was finished, and her arms and legs had cramped from the strain, she tossed the shirt away. Using the large rocks that formed the shore, she pulled herself along, to a partially submerged ledge, formed by a large rectangular hunk of stone, a rounded boulder providing the backrest. Sighing once she reached her perch, Kaeru settled down, going perfectly still, save for the lower half of her hair, made buoyant by the water. Closing her eyes, ignoring the drip-drip-drop of water falling from her hair to the bridge of her nose, Kaeru methodically sealed off the world around her, until she was drifting in serene meditation.
By this time, Popo had started the outdoor portion of his tendings. He hadn't yet seen Dende inside the building, and calling for him by the front door did not summon Kami-sama.
"Odd..." He shrugged, figuring that Dende was catching a Nameckjin-style nap somewhere. Humming lightly to himself, watering can swinging to and fro in his left hand, he turned his attention to the Forget-Me-Nots in the closest box. Sprinkling them lightly with water, he sang his little song for them, when something made him look up.
There, laying in a heap of robes, was Dende, still unconcious. Popo went stock-still for a fraction of a second, when the splash of water against his foot brought him back to reality. Leaving the dropped watering can behind, he ran for him.
"Kami-sama? Kami-sama, answer me!" A gentle shake on his back turned rougher, as the youth refused to wake. He hesitantly abandoned the unconcious Dende for the main building. Long before he reached the doors, he called out with all of his mental capacity. "Piccolo, help me!!!"
The blood and sweat from his fight with Kaeru had long been carried away down the drain, yet Piccolo remained in the shower, his eyes closed, feeling the sting of the water against his flesh, and the warm whisper of the steam that filled the room. Almost eerily synchronized, the call of Mister Popo and cold water hit him at once. Nearly jumping out of his skin, with a double dose of the chills from the lack of hot water and Popo's anguished communication, Piccolo was out the bathroom door, wrapping a plush blue towel around his waist in the process.
He and Popo nearly collided with each other in the hall, the ebony assistant barely having the faculties to relay the news on the unconcious Kami-sama, before Piccolo had phased out of sight.
Both he and Popo appeared on either side of Dende. Lifting the God in his arms, throwing a remorseful prayer skywards, Piccolo didn't spare a moment, getting Dende inside, laying him on the bed in the central room.
"W-What's happened to him?"
"I don't know for sure. Get me some water. Now."
Now freed of Popo's nursemaid hysterics, thanks to the water decoy, Piccolo calmed his racing heart, which had been lapped by his brain several times over. Once mental and physical disturbances were clear, he closed his eyes, reaching to touch Dende on the forehead. The preceeding antennae there brushed against his fingers, Piccolo nearly recoiling at the shock they sent up. But that unpleasant tingle couldn't even compare to what would happen next.
Once his palm rested safely on the smoothe pate of the Nameckjin, Piccolo found himself pummeled by the waves of mentally communicated suffering. Steeling his resolve, he forced his way past the barrier of fear, finding himself standing in a void, buffeted by howling winds, teetering on the very brink of Chaos itself.
Dende was easy to find in the pervasive blackness, but getting his attention was much more difficult. Piccolo's words were lost in the winds. He grit his teeth, calling upon his will, resulting in a burst of ki, although this was much brigher than normal, as it had no layer of flesh and bone to shine through.
It did little to clear the blackness, but Dende was indeed attracted to the meager light Piccolo radiated, turning around to face him, the Godly aura around Dende the color of tarnished silver.
*Kami-sama, I am here. Come to me, we will leave this place.*
*Piccolo... can you hear it?* The unspoken words were barely audible in Piccolo's mind. Cocking his head, Piccolo strained to hear whatever it was that agitated Dende enough that it would drive him to this unholy setting. Below the winds, and below the agony emanating from Dende, he heard it. It was quiet at first, until it grew louder, overpowering the storm, echoing in his ears.
A scream. A terrible, loud, high-pitched shriek. No.. wait. It was many. Thousands of screams, channeled into one. Pained and frightened, these multitudes were focusing all of their emotions through a single conduit, which was what had stricken Dende so.
Fighting against the urge to collapse into the void along with Dende, he snarled at the invisible body that contained the wails. *Back, damn you!* All the while, his ki was steadily increasing in brightness, the displaced God drawn towards it, like a moth to flame. *Away from me! Now!* He commanded, using his anger to increase his strength, to quell the screams, until they were competing for volume with the wind. When the shaking image of Dende was safe in his arm, he felt the screams surge again, not yet ready to give up their victim. Piccolo found himself opening his free hand, pointing it at the endless Chaos, a ball of energy convulsing against his palm. *You will not have him!* He roared, sending a monstrous bolt of power into the darkness, which seemed to rip in two, fraying and unravelling like cloth. *GET YOU GONE!!!*
Coming to, blinded by a sudden whiteness, Piccolo opened his eyes, which slowly adjusted to his surroundings. He nor Dende had moved, although the God's eyes were open. They were sunken, his face still haunted by what he had felt.
*Too long.* Piccolo thought. *He was there too long. Heard too much.* Pulling his hand free, he jumped, nearly loosing his towel and his cool as Popo burst through the door, carrying a pitcher of water and a glass on a plain silver tray.
The squat man nearly burst into tears when he saw that Dende was awake, but silent, and he sat the tray down, standing by his bed. "Kami-sama, are you alright?"
Dende smiled weakly, turning to look at the frantic Popo. "Yes. Piccolo saved me."
"It was a vision." Piccolo said simply, looking down at Dende, his brow furrowed in concern. "Or at least something like a vision."
"Whatever it was... it was horrid." Kami-sama sighed, taking the glass of water Dende offered.
"Do you know where it came from?"
"No, Piccolo. It was too erratic for me to pinpoint its location. It was just so violent and uncontrolled."
"What did it mean?" Popo asked, his narrow-set eyes wide.
"It was a bad omen, unmistakably. It could only mean one thing." Dende had pushed himself to a sitting position, looking at the glass of water he held in his lap. "Those were the screams of innocents. Evil has once again shown its face. I just hope I can locate its source before it is too late for those thousands..."