Hey, this is my first fanfic that I'm posting. It will be a series of one shots. It will not be on a regular upload schedule, it will only be updated as the mood stricks me. But they are all from Vegeta's point if view. I hope you enjoy this little story And the others to come. The Saiyan words are fabricated and are not meant to have any relations to any language currently spoken. I tried to add the definition of them in the story as I used them but if you'd rather I can put a key on the bottom. Let me know if you want that. Enjoy!
I have pleasant memories from my early years at my mother's naanuk, a circular hearth made of stone that extended out to form a circular table. A focal point in any Saiyan home. I would sit on the cool stone of the floor, a pleasant contrast to the heat we lived in. At three years old this was my favorite place. My mother would tell me stories of great warriors and the lands they conquered. Sometimes I would close my eyes listening to the rich voice of my mother that held a light growl when certain words were spoken, I would imagine that I was that warrior she spoke of.
"Asphar watched from above as his brother's men charged the sholuum with all the might of the Grand God Plato." Sholuum was any non Sayain being. "The battle raged for three days neither slide stopping for rest. Bodies littered the ground and Gus was heavily wounded. Still he stood through the strength of his pride. All of his men were dead, and while the enemy had vastly out numbered us their numbers had dwindled so there was only 20 left, but all were afraid of Gus. He wanted to finish them all so he built an explosive power inside of himself. He looked to his older brother Aspher still on the cliff. He saluted before making his final charge at the sholuum. It is said that he looked like a miniature sun as he burned his way into the center of the sholuum and the Grand God Plato smiling down on him he expanded the attack from within his own body taking all of them with him, to the Judge Knifu. Aspher let out a victory cry sending his brother's spirit to Buebe, a warrior's paradise."
I had no brother or even a chenuk, a brother of war. (Usually not related to you in blood but a person that holds the same fighting spirit you do. You only have one chenuk.) So I could not relate very well. Still I tried so I imagined my father being the warrior Gus and frowned. I did not like the feeling that wailed up in my belly.
"Why did Aspher not help his brother? He could have saved him!" I did not want to see my father dead when I could have helped.
She tsked as if disappointed in me, "Aspher would never trample on his brother's sig." Sig is simply put, honor but really it's so much more than that. It's a saiyan's pride, life, cause; sig is a Warrior's very essence. It is a warrior's sig that passes on to Buebe, warrior's paradise.
Still this did not comfort me, "Why did he let Gus go if he was going to die? If they had gone together they could have helped one another." I reasoned. Still my reasoning was faulty as any three year old's is and I knew the answer before my mother said it but I listened anyways needing to hear it.
"Surly you remember that the sholuum had managed to cut off his tail."
My tail curled around my waist tightly when she said that. Our tail was our power, once gone it was said that your power would leak out and you would waste away. Thus at the loss of one's tail it was a Saiyan's duty to kill himself.
I believe my mother saw uncertainly in my expression for she laughed, "you don't need to worry. Gus was a mighty warrior. He killed many sholuums his tail would be given back to him by Judge Knifu. In fact I am certain that he was given a hundred tails."
The idea of the strength he must now have with a hundred tails thrilled me, "i will have even more than that when I reach Buebe!"
"Only if you become fetzer." Fetzer was one who died while battling a sholuum. "When you die a fetzer your tail will glow before the Judge Knifu and the sholuum blood you had spilt will fill his cup. If it over flows you will taste the high of your victory forever drunk on it's sweetness."
That night I dreamed I was a mighty warrior in battle. That my father watched me with pride on the cliff, as the scent of burnt flesh filled my nostrils. I heard the victory song but it was not just one voice but hundreds. I knew I had died and was standing before Judge Knifu, who was laughing hysterically as his cup overflowed and drowned us both in a red sea of the sholuum blood.