Maybe


Disclaimer: I don't own DGD, Greg and NELVANA do. Abaven is my OC.

Notes: Dedicated to one of my best friends ever: Celine. ^.^

Sorry I got this out late. Computer hasn't been co-operating for a while.


He gently fingered the brown piece of paper in his hand. The way his fingers held the paper showed that he was fighting within himself to either smooth the paper out to its previous state or rip it apart and lets its pieces fly away in the wind. Eventually, the boy decided to show both his anger and wanting by leaving the paper crumpled.

Sighing, he looked up at the night sky, seeing the many stars light up the darkness. Yet, he felt engulfed and confused in the black cloud that existed in his current state of mind.

~ I know it's a long shot…But, it's the only chance I've got. What if he's out there, somewhere? What if he's just waiting for me to contact him? If I don't do this…I may never find out. ~

Though, as soon as those thoughts entered his mind, contradicting ones began to question them. A voice full with anger, snide and hatred entered his thoughts.

- Is that so? What makes you think that he's still alive, even after all this time? What are the chances of that, anyways? One in a million? That maybe, he's just out there, waiting for you to come back to him…Get real. You're a Di-gata Defender for crying out loud! You should know that fairy-tale endings don't exist. Besides, why would he want to find you now? After all these years of doing the same thing…Why hasn't he answered you? Why would he now? And what makes you think he has the answers? He'll probably be as clueless as you are. -

He shook his head. It was the same arguments every year. And every year he did it. Maybe this year should be different. Maybe he should move on and forget. Quit living in the past. Stop trying to find him.

As he stood up from the hill that was a while away from the Dojo, where the other defenders were peacefully at sleep. He began to walk up the small, grassy land, since he had been seated at the bottom of the hill. Once he reached the top, he looked back once more. The stars still twinkled in the sky and a memory from long ago entered into his mind.

*A long showdown of a man fell on top of a young crying infant. The child's pale blue eyes opened slightly as he looked up at the one who picked him up. His crying ceased and the young one set to observing the man in front of him. He saw short black hair and deep blue eyes. The man had a Sum sigil on his left cheek and wore long, plain green robes. But, it was the eyes that fascinated him the most. They were deep, caring and…sorrowful?

Those eyes were all he could look into and a sense of warmth and comfort filled him. And that was the last he saw of the man…The last he saw of his father.*

Feeling a renewed sense of belief, he let the paper float away, and watched as it danced in the wind. Maybe – hopefully - it would find its way to that man from his memories. That man he just knew was his father, the only family he could remember.

One day, he would find the man. One day.

And then, he would get his answers.

Maybe.


A man, with long black hair, that was slowly graying, and dull blue eyes stood in front of a broken down wood house. The door was off its hinges, the windows shattered and the wood had burn marks upon it – almost as if it had been there through a war or battle.

The man stood alone, with his green robes flowing gently in the wind. A slightly disoriented piece of brown paper made its way towards him and landed just in front of his feet.

Curiosity overtook the tall, old man as he bent over to pick it up. His eyes filled with life as he read the note and then saddened.

Hello,

I don't know if you're getting my messages or not, but I hope you are. If this does reach you, I hope you answer me. Things with the defenders have been great. The Ethos have been gone for a month and RaDos has been fine since. I hope that you're doing okay as well.

I know you're out there somewhere and I really would like some answers. When I think about my origin, all I can remember is you, dad. Please don't leave me out of your life forever. I would do anything to meet you.

Please. Don't leave me alone anymore.

The man felt the same overwhelming urge to write back to the boy, let him know that he had found the man he called "dad". Let the boy he considered a son to find some comfort in family.

But, then reality dawned upon him. He was not the boy's father. The boy was not his son. That night, that fateful night.


He couldn't believe it. The nerve of those wizards! They thought that they could use a person to destroy those filthy creatures. Not only had they created a person for that purpose, but after making a mistake, they had called it a mistake and left the mutated one alone, to die and wither away. Had those wizards no respect? No care for life? Had –

Was that crying he heard?

Looking around, he found a small child lying on the ground and with dawning realization; he felt his heart go to the boy. Standing above him, he gently picked up the child and began to rock him. Looking into the child's eyes, he saw trust and it was then he decided that he would take care of the child. He would be his father.

"Abaven? Are you here?"

Said man grimaced. He would be shunned from the wizard's council if he took care of their "experiment". Anger once again took over his body. Pushing it away, he decided it was more important to find a subtle home for the child.

"Tzur…"

An old friend, one Abaven was sure could take care of the child.

Crying once again began and the man gently smiled at the child.

"Hush, it'll be okay. I'll find you a home and someone to take care of you – "

An odd thought struck the man. What should he call the child? Looking back at him, he somehow, he could tell this child would be different. He would rise above the scorn and beliefs of most people on RaDos. He would be like…like…

"A Pagan giant."

Looking back at those pale blue eyes, Abaven grinned.

"I promise, you'll be okay – Rion."


Abaven sighed again. He had to let Rion go, it had been the only way.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself

Putting the note back on the ground, the man turned and went back into the broken house. It would be best if Rion went on believing that his father was out there somewhere.

Maybe one day he would get answers.

Maybe.


I know the story is a little sad…But, what the hey. ^.^

(o.0 I just had the oddest thought. My sibling used to read the 'Flat Stanley' series. In there, their mother was big on grammar. She used to say (in response to when Stanley or his brother say "hey") "Hay is for horses." I just heard her saying that in my head…SHE'S AFTER ME AND MY POOR GRAMMER SKILLS! XD)

See you about,

~Denvana~