AN: This is my first real attempt at anything AU. It is also threatening to be the longest story I've ever written. I'm having a lot of fun with this and hope any readers do as well. Feedback (including constructive criticism) makes me happy and is greatly appreciated!

AN2: Xellos occasionally will slip and use a word or two of his native Mazoku language here - the general idea is the Mazoku have been sealed away from other races for a long time, so it would be a habit for him. Just because it's fun, I will be using Japanese for this purpose. I don't speak Japanese (wish I did), so if anything I use is wrong please let me know so I can fix it. There won't be much, only a word here and there, hopefully not enough to be irritating.

Warnings: Violence. Later on definite Slash, and probable Lemon.

Disclaimer: This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. No actual harm was caused to any of the Slayers in its creation. But only 'cause they're not mine…

Chaos Principle

by Xellas M.

Chapter 1

"It's over. We lost." Quiet, fearful whispers rippled through the streets, passed from human to human but skipping over the unacknowledged hooded and masked figure striding purposely through the crowd to its shelter. Trying not to attract attention, the stranger increased his pace. There were too many people around. Too many scared people. Any minute mob mentality would take over and a riot would begin. It would be a dangerous place for any alien, but especially for one with demonic pointed ears and blue, rock-like skin.

The creature made it back safely to the small quarters that served as home. Pulling back his hood and lowering his mask, he stood for a minute staring at his reflection in the mirror. Although his blue eyes looked human enough, his wire-like lavender hair and smooth, hard sky blue skin immediately dispelled the idea. What his race or home planet was not even he could say. He had been found, alive but in stasis, in a forgotten temple and was awakened by the scientist Rezo, thought to be one of the great geniuses of the age. Rezo had died not terribly long after and while the world mourned his passing, the creature now named Zelgadis, celebrated. Rezo had been a special pet of the Ryuzoku and the alien had good reason to despise the Ryuzoku.

On this planet, in this whole sector of space actually, one was a Ryuzoku or one was human. To be anything else was to be nothing at all. Not that his existence was actually criminal, to outlaw a sentient being because of its race would be "unjust". Zelgadis sighed bitterly. Other forms of persecution, like open hostility and suspicion, or the insidious wearing down of a being's pride…those apparently were perfectly fair.

At least he had been able to find paying work, unlike many other aliens. This was entirely due to his strange gift, an ability to effortlessly work stone into the delicate but strong structures favored by the Ryuzoku Lords. Of course, he earned much less than a human possessing not even a quarter of his skills, but it was enough to buy food and shelter. Most importantly, it funded his research. He was convinced that somewhere in a forgotten text there had to be the answer to what he was, where he had come from. This search was an obsession; it occupied his every free waking moment.

Zelgadis frowned and asked his coffee maker for a fresh cup. Almost the only real luxury item in the small living space, it complied almost instantly and even remembered to use fresh beans. A small sigh of contentment escaped his lips as he sat down in front of his terminal to watch the news. Somehow, it was impossible to believe the Ryuzoku had actually gone until he saw it himself.

But it was true. Long lines of the large, golden lizard like creatures filed dejectedly past the camera. They were huge and powerful and their eyes carried knowledge gleaned in a lifespan so long when compared to that of a human that they may as well have been truly immortal. It was easy to understand how the race had earned the nickname "dragon". Standing in the background on a small hilltop, a single robed humanoid figure, face hidden in shadow, watched the Ryuzoku file past. Only one against so many, but the forced march never paused.

The dragons had taken care of the human race for a thousand years. The centuries had gone by uneventfully, until most of the inhabitants of these worlds did not even remember that once they had governed themselves. History was not taught in human schools; the concept had become totally meaningless. Only a very few, like Zelgadis, had ever read any of the old texts. These books told of a different time, of battles between the Ryuzoku and an ancient and powerful enemy, a race of beings called Mazoku, a race of pure evil. A heroic sacrifice had finally ended that war and brought victory to the dragons despite overwhelming odds. It was believed that there would be peace forever.

Forever had ended only a few months ago when the enemy had returned. At first there were only rumors of trouble, which were denied outright by the news media. But the rumors persisted, growing stronger when it was announced that all communications off-planet were to be monitored. Eventually it was admitted there was a threat. Millions of humans banded together to protect their Ryuzoku masters. Perhaps if they had been allowed to help out from the start it would have made a difference, but it was too late. Every human that went out into space, every man or woman that took a stand against the overwhelming technological superiority of the Mazoku died quickly. They died so fast that very little actual data concerning the invaders was captured, but their ability to wink in and out of subspace, snatch a spacecraft and rip it into shreds in an eye blink was like something out of a fairy tale - or a horror story. The human warriors, not even knowing the name of the race they were fighting, simply called them "monsters".

And now the monsters had won.

The first few months would be the worst, Zelgadis reasoned. Panic and hysteria would be the rule. Once things settled down, life would return to normal. He supposed even monsters wanted to have things built. He would still be able to earn a living. Better to stay inside for now and catch up on his research. Decision made, he switched off the video screen.

* * * * *

Six weeks had passed since the Mazoku had taken over, but the civil unrest had not died down despite the harsh methods used by the new rulers to suppress such outbreaks. Then again, they didn't seem to be trying very hard. There had been none of the propaganda that might have helped the sheep like population adjust to the change in leadership. The new rulers' interference was sporadic at best. In many ways, there might as well not have been any leaders at all.

The information provided by the media was sketchy. The only item of any real value reported in the past month and a half was that the Mazoku Lord in charge of this world was female and named Xellas Metallium. The alien had been able to fill in a few additional details through his research, but nothing that seemed truly helpful.

Now Zelgadis was faced with a very large problem. Although he needed much less food than a human being, his supply had finally begun to run desperately low. It was imperative that he risk going outside to restock before hunger made him too weak to have a chance of survival in the dangerous streets.

Sighing, he began his preparations. Despite the fact that it was midsummer, he dressed in his warmest, most concealing clothing, thick white tunic and leggings and a long white cloak with hood and mask attached. Under the cloak he concealed as many weapons as he could effectively use: a pair of projectile guns and a pair of energy guns, a few ordinary but very sharp knives, and his favorite, the nayami. The last was very rare. Although it looked like a simple, old-fashioned sword, it was a complex and deadly weapon. In trained hands it was capable of an incredible range of attacks including throwing bolts of electricity, sending sparks to ignite flammable materials, or sending crippling subsonic waves to knock out multiple opponents. Highly illegal, Zelgadis had received both the weapon and instructions in its use from the only two other aliens he had ever known. Their names were Zolf and Rodimus and although they had died in the same incident that had killed Rezo, he had never forgotten them.

He was as ready as he would ever be. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped out into the warm afternoon. He carefully locked the door behind him, blissfully not knowing that he would never return.

* * * * *

He had timed his excursion for the hottest part of the day. The sun's white light seared through the clear aqua sky onto the pink and red cobblestone streets of the human city. Already the beginnings of decay had started to appear on the once pristine area. A thin layer of grime had already begun to settle over everything, casting a shadow on the city itself. Stray pieces of garbage peeked out from alleyways to the main streets as if encroaching cautiously into new territory.

Normally, there was relatively little activity during this time of day. Shopkeepers, keeping watch in the cool shade of their doorways, glared at the white-clad figure as it passed. They were not fooled at all by his mask, for the alien had once been a familiar if not loved figure here. It wasn't long before cruel remarks followed the angry stares, starting as snide whispers but quickly escalating into taunts that echoed from each doorway up and down the mostly empty street.

"Spy!"

"Freak!"

"He's one of them. Fucking monster."

Zelgadis' heart began beating furiously within his chest. He wanted to stop, to turn and face the cowards taunting him but his practical mind reminded him that there wasn't any point. Nothing would change except that he would lose any chance of goodwill he might still have. If he couldn't find anyone willing to take his money he might starve to death regardless.

He never did make it to the shop. He had seriously underestimated the level of danger. Word of his approach had preceded him and just as he turned the corner to the grocer's, a surprisingly large group of people barred his way. Every one of them was armed with something, the weapons ranging from homemade fare, hammers and the like, to sophisticated - at least two energy guns were pointed his way. This was bad. And surprising since not only were energy weapons illegal but even on the black market they were extremely expensive and hard to find. That he should see them here, now, frightened him considerably. The alien's tough skin offered protection from a variety of things, but nothing that lived was able to stop the beam from a plasma laser.

"What do you want?" Zelgadis tried to keep his voice calm even as he looked around for an escape. A group had closed in behind him already, the ambush completely sprung. He was surrounded and as good a fighter as he was, he didn't stand a chance, alone against so many.

"We want you to die, monster. You and every last damn one of your kind." Before the speaker even finished her threat, he heard the soft whisper of a discharged energy weapon. His left leg, the target of the attack, gave out from beneath him.

Numerous projectile guns fired. Their loud explosions ironically sounded more frightening than the more dangerous laser weapons. Bullets bounced from the alien's hide, unable to pierce his skin but each leaving a lovely bruise.

Zelgadis tried to stand. Bad leg or not, if he didn't make it out of this situation now he would die a very slow, painful death at the hands of this mob. Still, no matter how hard he tried, the stoneworker could not seem to rise. Eventually he realized that somewhere in all the noise another well-placed shot from an energy gun had taken out his other leg.

He was out of options. He would fight to sell his life as dearly as he could. He reached into his cloak for his own weapons. Again the attempt was denied. This time five searing shots of energy hit him almost simultaneously, three disabling his right arm and two his left. He was helpless.

Angry people surrounded, their weapons abusing his body as their venomous words dirtied his spirit. From a distance, he was spat at, cursed, and shot until his pain-hazed mind began to boggle at the stock of bullets the people had available. Eventually the bullets did run out and the crowd, satisfied that their victim had sustained enough damage to be rendered harmless, closed in.

The fists that struck Zelgadis caused almost no damage at all. The hammers, however, did. Blue skin already spotted with bullet sized black bruises began to take on patches of more interesting colors, purpling where the red blood came too close to the blue surface. The alien gritted his teeth, refusing out of pure stubbornness to give them the satisfaction of crying out. Through a fog of pain he even managed a smile when he realized that the arms of his closest attackers were beginning to tire.

It was at this point that the alien thought he heard a sweet male voice. It spoke quietly, but its resonance sent an uncontrollable shiver up and down his spine. "That's enough."

Somehow it got through to the crowd. Instantly the attacks ceased and even in his current state, the alien could sense a change in the atmosphere. The fear turned aggression was gone, replaced with terror. Soft footsteps approached and a path magically opened in the press of bodies.

"Yare, yare1. What a mess." The voice spoke again, lighthearted and amused. The figure reached the bloodied victim and knelt.

If the newcomer was a threat, Zelgadis at least wanted to look the man in the eyes before dying. He looked up. Definitely *not* a man…but he had the most amazing eyes the alien had ever seen. They were eyes that cut, cruel beyond imagining, full of wisdom and passion. They held no compassion but they held no judgment. Surprise registered for a brief moment in their slitted depths, quickly hidden beneath closed lids as the creature smiled.

Finally released from that powerful gaze, the alien was able to look at the rest of the speaker. He seemed normal and harmless enough, slightly taller than Zelgadis but not terribly much so. Attractive purple hair was cut in a strange, blunt style around a face that seemed to be carved from innocence itself.

The creature stood. He sighed with mock disappointment and addressed the attackers that hadn't had the sense to creep away quietly. "It's not very nice to attack strangers. Juuo-sama would be very displeased with the mess you've made of her city. I'm afraid this can't happen again."

Most of the unfortunates dropped to their knees, voicing loud assurance that such a thing certainly wouldn't happen, that it had all been a bad mistake.

The purple-haired man nodded his agreement. He raised a hand. Dark light, black light of a kind Zelgadis had never seen burst from the newcomer's palm.

The next few minutes were terrifying. Screams filled the air as every human in the area, whether a participant or only a spectator, was cut down by knifelike shards of the energy the still smiling man wielded.

When it was all over, only the two of them were left. Corpses lay in every direction; in this heat it would not be long at all before the stench became incredible. There was nothing Zelgadis could say. He probably was about to die but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

The stranger spoke first. "Don't worry, kimera. I have other plans for you."

If that was supposed to be comforting, well, it wasn't. "Plans?" The alien tried to speak, but all that had come out was a hoarse croak.

"We'll talk later. For now you should sleep."

Zelgadis didn't trust the creature and no matter how exhausted he was he didn't want to sleep. After the display he was pretty sure he knew what it was he faced. "Mazoku."

It didn't seem possible, but the purple-haired man's smile grew even wider. "And a scholar as well, this must be my lucky day. I didn't think anyone on this benighted planet was capable of reading."

The alien wanted to make a smart remark, he really did, but the events of the day finally overcame him whether he wanted them to or not.

* * * * *

~To Be Continued…

1. My, my…