Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z and I am not making any money from
this.
Fragments of Destiny
Chapter One
A white mare wandered out of the paddock, her long, soft mane shifting gently in the afternoon breeze. The sun shone bright, bouncing off the mare's coat, emphasising how healthy and well cared for she was. Her hooves clicked softly on the cobbled ground, as she turned her face up to the cloudless blue sky, blinking a little in the sunlight.
"Yamcha? Yamcha! The mare is wandering off again. Please go and get her!"
A tall man walked around the side of the stables, holding a large brush in his left hand, and a pair of reins in his right. His hair was ebony black, messy and spiked up a little, but was soft looking and shiny. His eyes were obsidian, wide and innocent, a rare quality in a grown man, some might say. On his feet were black boots, scuffed and dirty, the laces frayed and trailing freely on the ground, He also wore baggy black trousers, complete with a tear in the right thigh and a large hole in the left knee, and a tattered white shirt, with dirt smudged across the chest where he must have wiped his hands. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were bronzed, caught by the sun. The man looked around the paddock, shielding his eyes and squinting in the glare.
"Yamcha? Wherefore did you disappear so fast?"
There was a short laugh behind him, and the stable hand whirled around in surprise, startled by the break in silence.
"Good morrow, Goku. Jumpy today, are you not?"
Yamcha stood in front of his friend, an amused look in his eyes, and his arms folded across his chest. He wore the same clothes as Goku, though his were a little neater, slightly dirty, but without any holes or rips. His shirtsleeves were rolled up. Goku's shirt did have sleeves before, but he had ripped them off because of the heat, and laid them carefully on top of an old saddle lying in the far corner of the paddock. Yamcha's skin was also tanned, naturally, he was a little pale, but there had been a sunny spell the last week, and it had tanned his arms and face a little. He ran a hand through his crop of short black hair, and smiled a little.
"You look as if you have been working hard, and yet it is not even noon", he commented, chuckling as Goku rubbed his face, leaving a smudge of dirt across his nose.
"Is the day still so young?" Goku asked. His friend nodded. "Yamcha, would you be so kind as to go get the mare, before she makes good her escape? If you aren't careful, she'll be off, kinsman." he continued.
Yamcha smirked.
"Ay, just like her owner, good Goku."
Goku nodded, laughing.
"You are right, my friend. Lady Marron always seems to be off these days."
"I don't know wherefore, do you?"
Goku shrugged, twirling the reins in his hand around his fingers.
"The lady has been cooped up in this house an awful while."
"Ay, but does she not see that it is a great life to live? She can have anything her heart desires, and yet still she yearns for more." Yamcha muttered, walking around the paddock and proceeding after the white mare. Goku looked up at the gorgeous blue sky and smiled, then walked to the stable and went back to brushing the horses.
A young woman leaned on the sill of her window, staring out at the sky with wistful blue eyes. Putting a hand to the window - pane, she sighed, a sad expression clouding her beautiful face, Her long, golden hair blew around her face in the breeze, and she tucked the flyaway strands behind her ears. Her hair was straight and beautifully shiny, and looked soft to touch. She was dressed in a long, white, silk night - gown, and she was barefoot. Her room was large and roomy, with a plush red-carpeted floor. In the right hand corner there was a large bed with clean white silk sheets, and next to the bed was a small night stand on which a small lamp had been placed. In the north corner of the room, just right of the window, was a large vanity table, with a mirror framed with beautiful, elaborate art. There was a hairbrush on the vanity table, and everything else was stored away in the drawers on either side of the mirror. A wooden closet was located on the south wall. The girl continued to gaze out of the window, as her nurse, Bulma, entered the room, carrying a basket of linen, and closed the door quietly behind her.
"Marron, child, are you risen already? It is not yet nine, yet you stand by the window, your pretty face seeming to wince with misery."
"My good nurse, I could not rest, my night was plagued by dreams."
"Dreams of what?" the woman asked. Bulma was in her early fifties, with long, aqua hair, gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a straight, wispy fringe, and was wearing a black, long sleeved dress, black tights and black shoes. Over the dress she wore a white pinafore, with a large pocket in the front. In her hair was a white bandana, and the bun had been secured with grips. She looked young for her age, and was still the beautiful woman she had been in her youth, but Marron knew that she had experienced her fair share of heartache, mot notably when nineteen years ago, she had been forced to give up her first born in order to keep herself off the streets. She gave a sad smile, playing with a strand of her hair.
"It is nothing, my good nurse. Nothing that some time outside will not cure."
Bulma sighed, setting the basket down, walking over to Marron and putting her hands on the girl's shoulders.
"Forgive me, Miss Marron. Lord Krillin has issued specific orders that you may not leave the house unattended by your personal guards."
"What? How can this be so? My father has forbidden me my freedom? Honest nurse, please, tell me, is that which you say the truth?"
Bulma nodded her head, smoothing Marron's hair down.
"I speak the truth, my lady."
"Why, then he is a fool! How does he expect me to become a noble woman, if he continues to shield me from social events?" Marron cried, seething with anger. She sank down onto the plush red velvet chair in front of her vanity table and stared at her reflection in the mirror, fighting back the tears from her eyes. Bulma watched the young woman sympathetically. She hated seeing Marron upset. She had grown especially fond of the girl, loving her like she did her own daughter. She began putting away Marron's dresses into the closet, hanging them up neatly. After a few moments she looked up, and turned to the young woman.
"My lady, I have just remembered, Lord Krillin requests your counsel in the conference room today. Now, dear, let us get you ready, we must make you look presentable to please his Lordship."
Marron wiped the tears out of her eyes and rose from the chair.
"Very well, good nurse." she said softly.
Down in the village, a young man wandered along leisurely. He was wearing simple clothes, some baggy black trousers and a black vest. On his feet were a pair of well-worn boots. His skin was naturally tanned, and he had long, lavender hair, pulled back and secured with a length of twine. A few strands had fallen loose, and were blowing around his face in the afternoon breeze. His deep blue eyes held a look of indifference in them, as he carried on, on his way. Reaching a run-down looking area, he picked his way through the discarded timber and other building materials, and then knelt down at the end of the dim passage, pushing a collection of splintered wood to the side to reveal a small doorway. He crawled through it, emerging in a dingy room.
"And where, pray tell, have you been, Trunks?" a voice asked from the shadows. The lavender haired boy shrugged, flopping down into one of the dilapidated chairs and putting his feet on a small table in front of him. He crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back, placing a hand over his eyes
"I asked you a question." came the voice again. Trunks took his hand from his eyes and raised his head.
"Yes, I know" he said calmly. "I was getting around to answering you, Gohan."
"Well, then where have you been, wasting time at the brothel again?"
"No sir. I was finishing up the last job."
Gohan stood up, walking into the light. The young man looked pale in the dim glow. He had short, spiked up, raven hair, a few lengths of which had grown into a fringe and rested just above his dark, narrow eyes. He was dressed simply, in a tattered, dark blue vest and trousers of the same colour. He wore scuffed old brown boots on his feet. Folding his arms, he glared at Trunks.
"Did you succeed?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Yes." Trunks nodded, giving an evil grin. "I do not think that our good friend, the Earl, will be bothering us again."
"Ay, until you return to the hell from whence you came, my friend" came a voice from the crawl way. Trunks turned to see a young man, smiling cheerfully, halfway through the hole. He looked very similar to Gohan, the same spiky hair, and the same colour eyes. However, his eyes were wider and more child like, and his expression was a great deal more cheery looking. From his position inside the crawl way, his clothing could not be seen very well.
"Goten! What took you so long, friend?"
Goten opened his mouth to answer but was cut off abruptly.
"The wanderer has returned at last, it seems!" Gohan said, sneering at the young man.
"Get yourself in here and stop fooling around this instant!"
Goten looked quizzically at Trunks, who merely rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"Boss, is there something the matter?" he asked, hastily pulling himself through the hole and standing up, dusting himself off. His white shirt was now streaked with dirt, but since his trousers were grey, whether they were dirty or not was a mystery.
Gohan ignored the question, turning away and walking back to his desk.
"I have a new task for you two fools. It is not your average job, however. It could get a little dangerous."
Trunks snickered.
"Oh, like the other job was not dangerous?"
The older man glared at him.
"Insolent fool! You do not understand! This is a big job, do you hear me?"
Goten sat down on an old chair.
"So then what is the job?" he asked.
"I wish for you and Trunks to go up to the manor tonight. Find out any information about the Lord's daughter that you can."
"Why?"
"Because our new job…is to murder the lady."
Goten frowned.
"But why?"
Gohan leapt up out of his seat and grabbed the boy by the collar, lifting him off the ground, his eyes burning with anger.
"Do not ask stupid questions! It is not your place to know! You carry out orders! You do not question why!" he threw Goten to the ground and gathered himself together.
"Now. Do as I tell you to do."
Picking himself up off the ground, Goten grinned, sitting down again. He was used to his brother's outbursts.
"So what's this job worth?" he asked,
"You'll find out when it is over!" Gohan answered.
"Alright."
Leaning forward, Goten took a cigar from the box on the table, biting off the end and running a match across the rough surface of the chair arm. The tip of the match burst into flame and Goten pressed it to the end of the cigar, lighting it. He inhaled slowly; closing his eyes, then blew the smoke out.
"So what are we to do until then?" Trunks asked, folding his arms.
"Yeah! Have you got a job for us until then? I'm really hurting for money at the moment!" Goten exclaimed.
Trunks gave his friend a sidelong glance and smirked.
"Spent all your readies on Miss Paris again, have you?" he asked, amused.
Gohan turned to him, scowling.
"If you need money, then refrain from spending it at the brothel, you fool"
Goten simply took another puff of his cigar.
"If you knew Miss Paris like I do, you wouldn't be saying that!" he retorted with a wink. "Anyway, do we have a job or not?"
"Yes. Do you wish to know what your job is?" Gohan narrowed his eyes, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to his brother.
"Yeah, sure I do!"
"Really? You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Well then, I'll tell you………your next job is…"
"What, what?"
"Is…to get your grubby little hands off my cigars!!" the older brother yelled, snatching the cigar from Goten's hand and stubbing it out on the table.
"Aww…there was no need for that!" Goten whined.
"Shut up! I can't stand being around you idiots any longer! Start your job early!"
Gohan shouted, then rummaged in a box in the far corner of the room. He drew out a few items, then walked over to Trunks and handed them over.
"Use these." he said gruffly.
Trunks studied the items: a quill, a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a handgun. He blinked.
"The writing materials I understand, but why a handgun?"
Gohan pointed to the gun.
"This is for me to take out of your hand, put up against your forehead, and pull the trigger, if you do not obtain some information by tonight!" he said in a low voice.
"Fair enough" Trunks smirked, and started for the crawl way. After realising that Goten hadn't moved, he turned back around again.
"Come on Goten, we have a lot to do."
Goten looked at his lavender haired friend, his hand hovering over the cigar box on the table. His brother noticed this, and slapped his hand away.
"What have I told you?" he yelled. "Get your thieving hands away from my cigars! Now get out!"
"Alright, alright!" the younger brother said, annoyed. He straightened up, rubbing his hand and shot a glare at Gohan. Trunks simply shook his head and started back for the exit.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! I'd love it if you guys could review for me, it gives me motivation! Thanks to Lily Flower for suggesting I put this up here and mailing me with her nice comments, chapter four's on its way, Lily!
Fragments of Destiny
Chapter One
A white mare wandered out of the paddock, her long, soft mane shifting gently in the afternoon breeze. The sun shone bright, bouncing off the mare's coat, emphasising how healthy and well cared for she was. Her hooves clicked softly on the cobbled ground, as she turned her face up to the cloudless blue sky, blinking a little in the sunlight.
"Yamcha? Yamcha! The mare is wandering off again. Please go and get her!"
A tall man walked around the side of the stables, holding a large brush in his left hand, and a pair of reins in his right. His hair was ebony black, messy and spiked up a little, but was soft looking and shiny. His eyes were obsidian, wide and innocent, a rare quality in a grown man, some might say. On his feet were black boots, scuffed and dirty, the laces frayed and trailing freely on the ground, He also wore baggy black trousers, complete with a tear in the right thigh and a large hole in the left knee, and a tattered white shirt, with dirt smudged across the chest where he must have wiped his hands. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were bronzed, caught by the sun. The man looked around the paddock, shielding his eyes and squinting in the glare.
"Yamcha? Wherefore did you disappear so fast?"
There was a short laugh behind him, and the stable hand whirled around in surprise, startled by the break in silence.
"Good morrow, Goku. Jumpy today, are you not?"
Yamcha stood in front of his friend, an amused look in his eyes, and his arms folded across his chest. He wore the same clothes as Goku, though his were a little neater, slightly dirty, but without any holes or rips. His shirtsleeves were rolled up. Goku's shirt did have sleeves before, but he had ripped them off because of the heat, and laid them carefully on top of an old saddle lying in the far corner of the paddock. Yamcha's skin was also tanned, naturally, he was a little pale, but there had been a sunny spell the last week, and it had tanned his arms and face a little. He ran a hand through his crop of short black hair, and smiled a little.
"You look as if you have been working hard, and yet it is not even noon", he commented, chuckling as Goku rubbed his face, leaving a smudge of dirt across his nose.
"Is the day still so young?" Goku asked. His friend nodded. "Yamcha, would you be so kind as to go get the mare, before she makes good her escape? If you aren't careful, she'll be off, kinsman." he continued.
Yamcha smirked.
"Ay, just like her owner, good Goku."
Goku nodded, laughing.
"You are right, my friend. Lady Marron always seems to be off these days."
"I don't know wherefore, do you?"
Goku shrugged, twirling the reins in his hand around his fingers.
"The lady has been cooped up in this house an awful while."
"Ay, but does she not see that it is a great life to live? She can have anything her heart desires, and yet still she yearns for more." Yamcha muttered, walking around the paddock and proceeding after the white mare. Goku looked up at the gorgeous blue sky and smiled, then walked to the stable and went back to brushing the horses.
A young woman leaned on the sill of her window, staring out at the sky with wistful blue eyes. Putting a hand to the window - pane, she sighed, a sad expression clouding her beautiful face, Her long, golden hair blew around her face in the breeze, and she tucked the flyaway strands behind her ears. Her hair was straight and beautifully shiny, and looked soft to touch. She was dressed in a long, white, silk night - gown, and she was barefoot. Her room was large and roomy, with a plush red-carpeted floor. In the right hand corner there was a large bed with clean white silk sheets, and next to the bed was a small night stand on which a small lamp had been placed. In the north corner of the room, just right of the window, was a large vanity table, with a mirror framed with beautiful, elaborate art. There was a hairbrush on the vanity table, and everything else was stored away in the drawers on either side of the mirror. A wooden closet was located on the south wall. The girl continued to gaze out of the window, as her nurse, Bulma, entered the room, carrying a basket of linen, and closed the door quietly behind her.
"Marron, child, are you risen already? It is not yet nine, yet you stand by the window, your pretty face seeming to wince with misery."
"My good nurse, I could not rest, my night was plagued by dreams."
"Dreams of what?" the woman asked. Bulma was in her early fifties, with long, aqua hair, gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a straight, wispy fringe, and was wearing a black, long sleeved dress, black tights and black shoes. Over the dress she wore a white pinafore, with a large pocket in the front. In her hair was a white bandana, and the bun had been secured with grips. She looked young for her age, and was still the beautiful woman she had been in her youth, but Marron knew that she had experienced her fair share of heartache, mot notably when nineteen years ago, she had been forced to give up her first born in order to keep herself off the streets. She gave a sad smile, playing with a strand of her hair.
"It is nothing, my good nurse. Nothing that some time outside will not cure."
Bulma sighed, setting the basket down, walking over to Marron and putting her hands on the girl's shoulders.
"Forgive me, Miss Marron. Lord Krillin has issued specific orders that you may not leave the house unattended by your personal guards."
"What? How can this be so? My father has forbidden me my freedom? Honest nurse, please, tell me, is that which you say the truth?"
Bulma nodded her head, smoothing Marron's hair down.
"I speak the truth, my lady."
"Why, then he is a fool! How does he expect me to become a noble woman, if he continues to shield me from social events?" Marron cried, seething with anger. She sank down onto the plush red velvet chair in front of her vanity table and stared at her reflection in the mirror, fighting back the tears from her eyes. Bulma watched the young woman sympathetically. She hated seeing Marron upset. She had grown especially fond of the girl, loving her like she did her own daughter. She began putting away Marron's dresses into the closet, hanging them up neatly. After a few moments she looked up, and turned to the young woman.
"My lady, I have just remembered, Lord Krillin requests your counsel in the conference room today. Now, dear, let us get you ready, we must make you look presentable to please his Lordship."
Marron wiped the tears out of her eyes and rose from the chair.
"Very well, good nurse." she said softly.
Down in the village, a young man wandered along leisurely. He was wearing simple clothes, some baggy black trousers and a black vest. On his feet were a pair of well-worn boots. His skin was naturally tanned, and he had long, lavender hair, pulled back and secured with a length of twine. A few strands had fallen loose, and were blowing around his face in the afternoon breeze. His deep blue eyes held a look of indifference in them, as he carried on, on his way. Reaching a run-down looking area, he picked his way through the discarded timber and other building materials, and then knelt down at the end of the dim passage, pushing a collection of splintered wood to the side to reveal a small doorway. He crawled through it, emerging in a dingy room.
"And where, pray tell, have you been, Trunks?" a voice asked from the shadows. The lavender haired boy shrugged, flopping down into one of the dilapidated chairs and putting his feet on a small table in front of him. He crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back, placing a hand over his eyes
"I asked you a question." came the voice again. Trunks took his hand from his eyes and raised his head.
"Yes, I know" he said calmly. "I was getting around to answering you, Gohan."
"Well, then where have you been, wasting time at the brothel again?"
"No sir. I was finishing up the last job."
Gohan stood up, walking into the light. The young man looked pale in the dim glow. He had short, spiked up, raven hair, a few lengths of which had grown into a fringe and rested just above his dark, narrow eyes. He was dressed simply, in a tattered, dark blue vest and trousers of the same colour. He wore scuffed old brown boots on his feet. Folding his arms, he glared at Trunks.
"Did you succeed?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Yes." Trunks nodded, giving an evil grin. "I do not think that our good friend, the Earl, will be bothering us again."
"Ay, until you return to the hell from whence you came, my friend" came a voice from the crawl way. Trunks turned to see a young man, smiling cheerfully, halfway through the hole. He looked very similar to Gohan, the same spiky hair, and the same colour eyes. However, his eyes were wider and more child like, and his expression was a great deal more cheery looking. From his position inside the crawl way, his clothing could not be seen very well.
"Goten! What took you so long, friend?"
Goten opened his mouth to answer but was cut off abruptly.
"The wanderer has returned at last, it seems!" Gohan said, sneering at the young man.
"Get yourself in here and stop fooling around this instant!"
Goten looked quizzically at Trunks, who merely rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"Boss, is there something the matter?" he asked, hastily pulling himself through the hole and standing up, dusting himself off. His white shirt was now streaked with dirt, but since his trousers were grey, whether they were dirty or not was a mystery.
Gohan ignored the question, turning away and walking back to his desk.
"I have a new task for you two fools. It is not your average job, however. It could get a little dangerous."
Trunks snickered.
"Oh, like the other job was not dangerous?"
The older man glared at him.
"Insolent fool! You do not understand! This is a big job, do you hear me?"
Goten sat down on an old chair.
"So then what is the job?" he asked.
"I wish for you and Trunks to go up to the manor tonight. Find out any information about the Lord's daughter that you can."
"Why?"
"Because our new job…is to murder the lady."
Goten frowned.
"But why?"
Gohan leapt up out of his seat and grabbed the boy by the collar, lifting him off the ground, his eyes burning with anger.
"Do not ask stupid questions! It is not your place to know! You carry out orders! You do not question why!" he threw Goten to the ground and gathered himself together.
"Now. Do as I tell you to do."
Picking himself up off the ground, Goten grinned, sitting down again. He was used to his brother's outbursts.
"So what's this job worth?" he asked,
"You'll find out when it is over!" Gohan answered.
"Alright."
Leaning forward, Goten took a cigar from the box on the table, biting off the end and running a match across the rough surface of the chair arm. The tip of the match burst into flame and Goten pressed it to the end of the cigar, lighting it. He inhaled slowly; closing his eyes, then blew the smoke out.
"So what are we to do until then?" Trunks asked, folding his arms.
"Yeah! Have you got a job for us until then? I'm really hurting for money at the moment!" Goten exclaimed.
Trunks gave his friend a sidelong glance and smirked.
"Spent all your readies on Miss Paris again, have you?" he asked, amused.
Gohan turned to him, scowling.
"If you need money, then refrain from spending it at the brothel, you fool"
Goten simply took another puff of his cigar.
"If you knew Miss Paris like I do, you wouldn't be saying that!" he retorted with a wink. "Anyway, do we have a job or not?"
"Yes. Do you wish to know what your job is?" Gohan narrowed his eyes, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to his brother.
"Yeah, sure I do!"
"Really? You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Well then, I'll tell you………your next job is…"
"What, what?"
"Is…to get your grubby little hands off my cigars!!" the older brother yelled, snatching the cigar from Goten's hand and stubbing it out on the table.
"Aww…there was no need for that!" Goten whined.
"Shut up! I can't stand being around you idiots any longer! Start your job early!"
Gohan shouted, then rummaged in a box in the far corner of the room. He drew out a few items, then walked over to Trunks and handed them over.
"Use these." he said gruffly.
Trunks studied the items: a quill, a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a handgun. He blinked.
"The writing materials I understand, but why a handgun?"
Gohan pointed to the gun.
"This is for me to take out of your hand, put up against your forehead, and pull the trigger, if you do not obtain some information by tonight!" he said in a low voice.
"Fair enough" Trunks smirked, and started for the crawl way. After realising that Goten hadn't moved, he turned back around again.
"Come on Goten, we have a lot to do."
Goten looked at his lavender haired friend, his hand hovering over the cigar box on the table. His brother noticed this, and slapped his hand away.
"What have I told you?" he yelled. "Get your thieving hands away from my cigars! Now get out!"
"Alright, alright!" the younger brother said, annoyed. He straightened up, rubbing his hand and shot a glare at Gohan. Trunks simply shook his head and started back for the exit.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! I'd love it if you guys could review for me, it gives me motivation! Thanks to Lily Flower for suggesting I put this up here and mailing me with her nice comments, chapter four's on its way, Lily!