Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ In search of Oceans ❯ Chapter 1

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

*** In Search Of Oceans. ***


A/N:


This is an A; it does not run along the lines of Dragonball Z. If some characters appear out of character then I do apologize. This fic involves Piccolo and some of the other Z fighters, along with my own characters. I do not own Dragonball Z. They are the sole property of Akira Toriyama, a man with a great imagination. Please do not steal any of the characters I created. They were created by me for the sole purpose of this story.

((In this fic, Nameks are NOT asexual, but they can still reproduce asexually due to there not being any female Nameks in over 500 years))

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Prologue

She weathered the cold wind, so bitter and twisted that it froze her very joints so that they could barely function. She had to press on because their very lives depended on her ability to do so. The snow was past her bare ankles by now, pulling her down like a compacted deep pit of quicksand. Gia tightly gripped together fingers that were turning red from the chapping of the cold snow and icy wind. Bringing her single cargo closer to her heart, she swore no one would take possession of it. She knew that he would surely sell it for profit; after what she had committed no mercy would be offered to either of then.

A faint voice from behind caught her ear. “Damn you, you thieving bitch, you will pay with your life!” A man’s foul vicious voice called, following close behind, closing in like a hungry wolf on the scent of fresh blood-riddled meat.

Gia's heart was pounding. It was just a few beans and carrots from the bag for the compost heap, ready for the earth to consume, and it was of no loss to anyone. However, her employer did not see it that way. As the sound of his thundering boots continued to grow louder and louder, she felt her legs becoming weaker and weaker, along with the aching in her arms from the extra weight. Looking up past the snow covered branches of the trees she passed under, she gazed skyward, praying to her god that safety would find them, hoping he would show them compassion.

“My God, I beg of you, save me and my only child from the grisly end that I deserve. Under your law, protect it!” She called up breathlessly as she continued to run in her open sandals and ragged clothing through the thickening snow. Her maroon hood concealed her locks of hair from the eyes of anyone she might pass, though that was not an issue. The streets of the dull city were deserted, with only a few large houses illuminated on the inside to reveal all the signs of life thriving beyond their concrete walls.

“Stop thief, I’ll have your hands as payment for your crime!” The deep intoxicated voice came again to her ears. He was coming closer.

Gia buried her face against the black and red patterned cloth in her arms, then her chance came when the corner of the building was just within reach. Swiftly, she called upon her inner strength to turn into it, narrowly missing the jagged brick corner. The snow was minimal in the dark laneway; instead, only water dripped to the ground from the rooftop drains to create a rhythm filled tone. However, there was no time to lose.

She fell to the cold ground, scraping her knees in the process, trying to find a dryer spot. Then she moved the bundled rags from her arms into a broken wicker basket that lay against a few trashcans. “My lord God, please hear my pleas. Protect my little one from death,” she uttered aloud toward the sky. The thought of what she was about to do was eating her alive but there was no other option.

Quickly she lifted her maroon hood from atop her head, her ruddy brown hair falling around her face and brightening the greenness in her eyes. She then gingerly placed the hood over the life that lay buddled before her. “Goodbye, my baby. I love you with all my heart,” she said, kissing the tips of her fingers before she placed then against the baby’s forehead. The tears from her emerald eyes were thick and grieving, blurring her vision.

Gia stood up, huddling her arms closer to her chest as she began running toward the opening of the laneway and back out to the street, hoping to lose her enraged employer and then return when it was again safe. Her desperate footsteps became softer and softer as she ran further and further away from the dark laneway and her child.

Back in the laneway it was quite dark, as the night surrounded it, accompanied only by the dripping sounds of the melting snow flowing off the roof to tap against the hard ground. Then the tripping stopped suddenly as if on command. The bundle in the broken wicker basket lay still for a few moments more but it was getting colder. At first the child whimpered and peeped, then it began wailing from beneath the maroon hood that lay over its head, concealing its face and inhibiting the airflow.

Her cries seemed to go unnoticed until a pair of hands reached out to her. Gently, she was lifted from the broken basket and into a pair of weak but wise arms that cradled her soothingly. Warm fabric shuffled against her when the form held the infant closer. Lifting his right hand from cradling her bottom, the young rescuer shifted the maroon hood from over the infant’s reddened and chapped face. He looked upon her and smiled warmly at her now sleeping and content face.

Before the youngster had a chance to speak his mind, a mass of horrid cries filled the air from out in the street. He looked up, gasping, and knew what had taken place not too far away. In his young but wise mind, he knew it was miraculous that he had sensed such a thing would happen, but now realised that in his arms lay an orphan with no home or family.

“We can do nothing more here. We have to go now,” a deep grating voice reminded him, placing a hand over his robe draped shoulder. The young rescuer acknowledged his companion’s words with a weary nod, but continued to look out toward the street where Gia’s death screams had filled the air.

“I know. I wish I could only have done more, Piccolo. It seems so wrong to have saved it and let its mother perish,” Dende said, holding the small, week old baby to his chest, his hands cradling the back of its head and back.

Piccolo crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling the frosty air from his nostrils as he looked toward the heavens, observing the cloudless yet star filled sky. “You’ve done enough You are the guardian of the earth, and as you well know you can only do so much for the people of this planet,” Piccolo offered, but he knew that the young guardian felt responsible for the death of all. In Piccolo’s opinion it was an enigma that Dende had foreseen this child’s situation. Dende had himself wondered how it was possible that moments before he sensed this would happen, he had foreseen it.

Nevertheless, the earth born Namekian was not in agreement over changing the course of nature by saving someone whom was surely destined to die. It would have a great impact on what was due to happen, even if it were only a child that had to breathe its last.

He had been distressed when Dende summoned him for an urgent matter earlier that evening, which turned out to be this. He had moved away from the Lookout for the purpose of finding peace from hollow reasons. However, he would still answer a call from Goku or Gohan to defend the earth, but thankfully that had not happened in a long time.

Not since the defeat of Buu had a call come. He had hoped this was a sign that he would have solitude for the rest of his days. Perhaps not, Piccolo thought, looking down toward the guardian grasping the child protectively. He realized there would be hard times ahead that the wise, yet still unexperienced guardian has not foreseen.

The young guardian turned toward his Namekian former advisor and ongoing friend, and prepared to leave, tucking the small baby deeper into its bundle of rags. Piccolo understood, leaning down as he tucked Dende beneath his muscle bound arm, knowing their journey would be quicker if he flew them both back. Dende would surely protest if Piccolo happened to damage the infant on the way so he took care to be gentle, much to his annoyance. He took off from the laneway into the clear cold sky back toward the Lookout that was high above the earth.

Once again the air was silent, until the sound of boots tracking slowly through the thick snow came back past the laneway and continued on toward their home. Over his shoulder was the mutilated body of his victim… Gia.

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Thank you for reading.

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