Tsulikthinroe
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form would I ever subject Gohan to being Saiyaman. Ever. Since said character exists, (shudders), clearly I didn't come up with DBZ. Darn.
Thanks go to Lov3the3vil for telling me to just shut up and post the damn story already. Without that encouraging piece of advice this fic would be seeing the light of cyberspace way later than it is now. Happy early birthday, Lovey!
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"GOOD MORNING, Your Majesty."
Gohan looked up to see Lord Earl Enrt Quain Numan Falcon standing at the head of the room. With him was a hulking boy of approximately seventeen years, clutching a sheaf of papers and looking absolutely shell-shocked. The boy's ki told of his rank as Enrt's Apprentice.
"Good morning, Regnal Advocate," he answered, matching his Steward's formal tone. If Enrt considered that his Apprentice was "formal company," then Gohan saw no reason to discourage him. He only hoped that the Apprentice would not always be formal company.
As if he had not possessed such resigned thoughts, Gohan continued briskly, "What solemn news do you bring to the King today?"
He saw Enrt's imperceptible smile out of the corner of his eye. Good; he'd interpreted the Advocate's formality correctly. Enrt bowed, and gestured to the Apprentice.
"May I introduce to you my Apprentice, Brisdain Iony Willgait? He has been with me a day."
"Well done," Gohan said to the dumbfounded Apprentice. "Earl Falcon is the most particular of persons."
"As well I should be, Your Majesty," Enrt smoothly responded, "thinking as I am your Regnal Advocate." The Steward turned to his Apprentice. "Go and fetch a tea service for the both of us, if you would." Enrt barely had the time to remove the sheaf of papers from Willgait's hand before the boy hurried off. Relief was clear upon the Apprentice's face as he was finally given permission to flee the presence of the high-ranked Majesty.
When Willgait had disappeared, Gohan grinned lopsidedly at Enrt. "It is about time you picked an Apprentice, Numan," using the Earl's penultimate cognomen affectionately. "It looks like you have chosen a strong one, too."
Enrt's smile was predatory. "You know me, my Regnal. I am a most particular person."
"In a fine mood this morning, are we?" Gohan smirked.
"Aye, I have found I enjoy the torturing of Apprentices," Enrt admitted. He suddenly sighed. "Fine mood or not, we do have serious business to get to." Practical as always, Enrt handed the first fourth of his papers to his King.
Gohan took them and glanced over them swiftly. "An intruder?" he inquired of his Steward. "And she evaded the military with techniques the like found in students of the College of Syre Arts?" He looked up. "Could she not have been a runaway? It is not rare to receive reports like this."
"She did not come from the Eicoi College of Syre Arts, my Regnal," Enrt contradicted. "Nor did she come in from Thogote," naming a country to the north, "and Rlalloteis is also disclaiming any knowledge of renegades."
Gohan nodded. "Did anyone happen to catch an image of her?"
Enrt bowed. "Good my lord," he intoned, holding out a hand. Slowly a bronze orb formed in his hands; Enrt's ki crackled with the effort of using this Art. Gohan waited patiently. If he tried to help his Steward, the proud Syr'nthan would snap at him. Instead he watched the orb solidify and form an image within.
When the picture fully formed, Enrt broke the connection with a gasp. The picture and orb floated free as Enrt's hand fell away, unconcerned with the ramifications it caused just by its mere existence.
Gohan stared at the picture of the face framed by black hair, flat cheekbones, and bright blue eyes. Son Pan looked warily back at him, her large blue eyes unchanged from the last time he'd seen them, but containing the expression of a wild animal suddenly removed from its familiar environment.
"I see," he said simply.
With relief, Enrt allowed the orb and its picture to dissipate. Sweat ran down his brow, which the Earl dabbed at with his handkerchief. Gohan composed his face into an expression of thoughtfulness. "This is very intriguing," he said in a tone to match said expression. "Troubling, too, for the consequences are unpredictable."
"What will you do about this, my Regnal?" Enrt questioned.
Gohan sat back. "Since the military has failed to retrieve her—and the Eighteenth Battalion, too, which does not bode well—we shall have to recover her through other means. At this time I shall not make a decision," he declared, "but I will meditate upon it in the Kino'shun Gardens and listen to my heart there."
He had pleased his Steward with his proclamation, Gohan could tell. Nevertheless, Gohan already knew what he wanted to do. He did not think that the advice of the Kino'shun Gardens would follow his heartstrings, but it was unpredictable. He would have to wait and see what happened.
"In the meantime," Gohan said, bringing himself out of his reverie. "Your Apprentice is about to return, so let us move on to other matters."
Another imperceptible smile quirked the Earl Falcon's lips. Ah, so there had been an ulterior motive for sending Willgait off. Gohan had grown so used to sensing the underlying motives of the kis around him that he could no longer tell outright if there was one or not, but he subconsciously acted upon them anyway. Putting aside the quarter of papers he still held, Gohan accepted the next batch and skimmed it.
"Does Earl Griffin have a legitimate complaint about his farmers this time?" he inquired. Enrt shrugged. "What do the farmers say, then?"
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KINO'SHUN GARDENS. The Gardens of the Flowering Stars. For centuries it had flourished inside the palaces of Syre, a gift from the cosmic forces to guide the Majesties who stepped within its flora and fauna. They were strange gardens, arranged with no pattern discernable to Syr'nthan eyes and glittering with dancing lights that had no source. Strange beasts prowled, shifting forms and shadows within the depths of the Gardens, but they offered no harm or help to those who strode within their habitat. The flowers always shone brightly, but gave headaches and dizziness if one looked upon them too long, and their aroma induced trances that none but the Majestic Families could bring themselves out of. These trances were why it was also called the Meditation Gardens, especially since Gohan's Syr'nthan Grandfather came into power.
Typhol Isanaon had been an especially strong Regnal, who set precedents a hundred years ago that were accepted as the standard even now. Having met the man himself, Gohan suspected that Typhol had not needed the Kino'shun Gardens so much as to make the reforms but, indeed, to moderate them so they did not damage more than help.
Nodding to the guard at the boundary, Gohan stepped into the Gardens. Instantly his shoulders fell. The atmosphere of the environment relaxed him. His worries seemed manageable now, and in time they would be resolved. Before he sunk anymore into relaxation, Gohan briskly strode out. The soporific effect upon his brain lifted slightly, but only until he reached a specific alcove that was a favorite of his. Sliding to his knees, Gohan quickly surrendered to the demanding sedative.
The world little by little faded away until there were only sparks of light, gently waving and gleaming blue patterns, and a slow undercurrent of murmuring sound—an image that invoked the true meaning of Kino'shun, Flowering Stars.
Gohan would never fail to appreciate this effect.
That was the last conscious thought he had before the trance claimed him—then he knew only peace.
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HOURS LATER, Gohan emerged from the Kino'shun Gardens greatly unburdened. It was always thus afterwards, like he'd been silly to let the problems pile up and worry him so, but the effect would wear off soon. It always did.
In the meantime, he had a plan. Several plans, actually, and all of them had to be set in motion—especially the one which had pleasantly surprised him.
The stars had actually approved of the wish that had settled into his heart upon seeing the face of his daughter in the ki mirror. With the stars' nay or yea to advise him, Gohan had formulated a concrete mode of action that was sure to—well, what exactly it did in the overall scheme of life he was sure he didn't know—but its first goal was to reunite him with the daughter he had not seen in twelve years.
She would not know him, of course, and he would not rectify this at the meeting; he would even misdirect her a little bit, but—
But seeing her was a gift Gohan had never thought he'd receive again.
"You are looking well, Majesty. Have the Kino'shun Gardens brought you all that you had hoped for?"
Gohan smiled at the figure standing patiently outside the Gardens boundary. How long Enrt had stood there waiting for his King to awaken, Gohan did not know, but his Steward's faithfulness always astounded him. Gohan did not deserve someone so completely loyal, but that was not for him to decide—the cosmos had apparently thought otherwise.
Still, he did not trust his vassal with everything. Gohan had learned his lesson well enough a long time ago.
"They have, and grateful I am for that," Gohan answered. "Come; I'll tell of the preparations we needs must make according to the will of the heavens. Your Apprentice would also be good for this—no state secrets shall be revealed in the course of solving all the world's problems in a single day."
He grinned at the bland look his Regnal Advocate made.
:-:-:-:
STANDING WITHIN the Forests of Ellfaul later on that day, Gohan awaited the passing of noon. His Regnal Advocate had not been the only one who protested the need for solitude in such a dangerous time and place, but Gohan had been inexorable, as was his right as King and as a person to be such when his mind was made up. Finally Enrt and his Head of the Military, Etasha Nalor, had subsided, but only very reluctantly, and only after he had promised them he would not truly be alone.
His Familiar, Wyvenshire, and Zhais, his personally-made Katana, would accompany him—and both of his subordinates knew that Gohan was second to none in sword-wielding, especially when handling ki-infused swords. His crow, too, was an additional reassurance, since Familiars used Arts their Bonded could not.
These Arts were strange and unknowable to people who did not possess Familiars—as they should be—but the point was that because of this, Familiars were highly effective in battle. They were also loyal to none but their Bonded, and could be counted upon to do what was best for the both of them should that knowledge be required.
Since Wyvenshire had not objected to the path that Gohan proposed to take, Enrt and Captain Nalor had finally agreed to trust their Majesty's judgment.
Gohan had only been too happy.
Since then, he'd been waiting, but with an infinite sense of purpose that made the waiting bearable.
At last, his sharp ears heard the rustle and snap of pine needles snapping under a heavy weight. The intruder was not well versed in the art of stealth, but Gohan would have been concerned had she been. Forcing himself not to move, he instead offered a hand to the crow on his shoulder. Wyven eyed him sharply, but it did not seem to be because he suspected Gohan's motives or because he wished to reprimand his Bonded. Instead the bird stepped down to his hand and, helped by an upward motion of said limb, launched into the air with a loud flap of his wings.
Gohan sensed the intruder's ki stop, then proceed forward at a more careful pace. He approved of the decision even as he thought it was applied too late—he had been generous to warn her of his presence. No one else would be the same.
He called Wyven to circle back to his hand just as the owner of the strange ki appeared around the bend.
This time the intruder truly did stop, perhaps stunned by what she saw. Gohan, for his part, merely looked up at her without surprise—which was true enough. He waited for her to decide what to do, stroking Wyven lightly on his breast. From here, it would take him only a second to draw Zhais and still the blade against his daughter's throat—should Pan decide to attack, that is. Though Gohan had confidence in his hand-to-hand fighting ability, even against his own offspring, he could not afford to give away anything that might tip his daughter off about his own identity—not so early in the game.
For a game it was, this beginning of beginnings, and what would happen from this instant would be determined based on Pan's reaction.
Apparently Pan decided to trust him a little, for she came forward with no intent to attack. Her ki indicated her readiness to fight should she need to, but only to defend, not to go on the offense, and certainly only until she could get away. Gohan smiled in encouragement, thinking to ease her anxiety a little.
"Come and be welcome in the forests of Ellfaul," he started. His words stilled the feet of Son Pan once more, but Gohan chose to ignore that in favor of speaking. "As the trees have allowed you to come this far, you cannot be of an ill-intentioned sort."
Wyven cawed harshly then, in his version of a snort, and took off again into the air. Gohan smiled again, this time in patient amusement, and turned away.
"You look tired, young lady," he said, striding over to the little fire he'd made about a half-hour earlier. It needed kindling, it informed him. It was about to run out of fuel and how nice was it of Gohan to forget about it for so long, it had been about to worry it would be neglected entirely, thank you very much. Gohan stifled the urge to smile, though doubtless his ki reflected his amusement anyway.
Through the offer of kindling, Gohan apologized for his rudeness. The fire, mollified by the sincere intention of his actions, brightened obligingly—then hissed happily as Gohan slapped deer meat on top of its logs.
Cooking things—meat especially—always made fire happy.
He looked up from his ministrations to notice that Pan was hanging warily still ten meters off. Prudent caution, considering she was in a place she did not know with a person she did not know with motivations she could not verify. His daughter had learned much already of being in this world, though perhaps she had known it already in the Human World.
Whatever it was, he would not discourage it—it would only save her life more than a dozen times within Eicoi.
Smiling to acknowledge Pan's caution, Gohan did not attempt to lessen it. She would come to the fire or not as she would—it was no longer his place to force her to do something she did not want to do. Once more he forced the package of emotions to dwell at bay—nothing but the behavior of a stranger would do here. Later, perhaps, he would be able to act freely upon his feelings, but that time was not now.
Instead he remained crouched by the fire while Wyven flapped closer to Pan and inspected her from a tree branch close to her. Adequate, Gohan heard within his mind, but more than direly in need of proper instruction. As it was with you.
"Tired, yes, and hungry, too," Gohan said rather than answer his Familiar. The time for that conversation was later, out of the hearing of prying ears, even if the bond between a Familiar and Bonded was as private as anything could get. "Come, there is food and the possibility of rest here; nothing will approach someone at a fire."
Pan did look longingly at the meat cooking deliciously upon the fire (and there was plenty more where that came from, knowing the appetite of even a quarter Saiyan), but she did not move any further from her position.
Gohan bowed his head in acceptance of Pan's philosophy and returned to the fire. Cheerful now, it crackled at him mischievously; now that there was no possibility of it dying yet for another half-hour, it was much more inclined towards playfulness and obedience towards its creator.
Smiling wryly at the merry flames, Gohan placed more meat over the flames—increasing the fire's happiness level even more—and carefully turned the first slab over onto the other side. Standing, he bent to gather more fuel for the fire, herbs that would season the cooked meat, and mushrooms that would share flame space until they were toasted nicely—in short, a wildwoods feast.
Were everything so romantic in real life, Gohan contemplated.
When he finally turned back to the little clearing he'd made, Gohan found that Pan had seated herself gingerly on the very edge of the fire. Bowing in deference to the young woman's decision (obviously made out of hunger and the need to rest Gohan had noticed before), Gohan placed his prizes where they would not be consumed by the ever-hungry fire and faced his daughter.
She appeared to be sixteen or seventeen, which should be right for the amount of years that had passed both in the Human World and Eicoi. The two worlds were not precisely time-sympathetic—a year was a moment longer in Eicoi than in the Earthian world—but they resonated fairly frequently with the same wavelengths at the same points. So it was by no real large margin to need to correct his guess with, but he would still keep an open mind to the possibility.
In person, Pan reminded him not a little of her mother. She had also much the same fire of spirit that Videl had had when last they—all three of them—had been together, though that was to be entirely expected of the daughter of his wife and mate. The caution might have been instilled in her from her grandmother, Son Chichi, or her Uncle Goten, or someone else entirely. It hurt Gohan a little to think of Videl remarried, but he knew he would do the same if he needed to in order to support his daughter.
And his staring was unsettling its object.
"Forgive me," Gohan said gently. "I did not mean to stare so. My name is Tsu, and I would have you relax and rest in my presence until you mean to move on. There are never enough of both in this world, and I would have some company before I, too, start again on my own journey."
Pan relaxed then, apparently seeing nothing beyond the surface that Gohan presented for her. "I'm Pan," she offered, the first he had ever heard her speak.
"Good afternoon, Miss Pan." Gohan bowed formally. He then carefully handed her the deer that had finished cooking and watched, amused, as she sloppily devoured it in her haste to settle her hunger. Wyven warned him that he looked too amused, too used to scenes like this, so Gohan added an edge of quizzicality to his ki.
Much better, my Regnal, Wyven approved. He had flown over from his branch to one closer to the fire, in order to watch over the both of them better. Now he returned to his preferred location of Gohan's shoulder and pecked at Gohan's hair mock-irritably.
"Yes, yes, you'll get your food, too," Gohan said to him. Slicing at the mushrooms, he offered some of them raw to his Familiar—who gobbled them greedily—and set the others upon the fire to toast like he had promised. He would eat these to supplement his own meal of deer (though he suspected he'd need to hunt again if he wanted to eat deer at all) and scrounge up more woodland treasures before he left.
Anything left over would be a suitable offering of thanks to the spirits of the forests; in fact, Gohan had already left the hearts, guts, and brains of the deer behind as a token. Never let it be said that the King of Syre was afraid of blood and animal organs, he thought ironically. Sometimes the two were far more pleasant than some of the other duties His Majesty dealt with on a daily basis.
When Pan sheepishly asked for more, Gohan smilingly turned the second slab over. He started on the third himself, snatching up a mushroom every now and then (and as often feeding Wyven as himself), and watching Pan stuff herself ravenously out of the corner of his eye.
The second seemed to satisfy the quarter-Saiyan, for towards the middle she nibbled more often than bit, and chewed more than swallowed. But then that, too, was gone, and Pan's ki still fluctuated with hunger.
Pan, however, did not ask for more.
Instead, she regretfully stood up from the fire. Gohan saw from her ki that she believed she could go further now, thanks to his help, and if she got too hungry again, she now knew that there were deer to pick off. And where there were deer, there were other animals, and she could also create a fire easily—
"Leaving so soon?" Gohan made himself ask. He was not supposed to know how to read ki like he did, so he forced himself to act the part. "You are still hungry. Please, eat to your fill."
"Thank you, but I really have to get going," Pan demurred. "I have a long way to go, and I don't really want to be in here when it gets dark any more than I have to. So if you could point me the way out, I would forever be in your debt."
She thinks things through carefully, too, Gohan thought. Excellent. That was a skill that was not easy to learn, and was even harder to consciously use. His daughter impressed him more and more by the second. Perhaps she could survive in this world without his help after all.
Yet I think it is a good thing that you stepped in when you did, my Regnal, Wyven remarked. Any longer and she would not only be lost, but slowly starving at that.
She is still hungry, however, Gohan pointed out reasonably. Out loud, he said, "The direction you were going will take you out well enough. You'll end up in Syre rather than Thogote, but I daresay that you knew that already—nor do I blame you! Thogote has got quite a bit going on within its borders lately, but of course you would know more about this than I."
Very clever, Wyven drawled. Giving your daughter a motivation to learn more about this world than she knows of it—and that it is not the world she once knew and perhaps loved, at the same time. Gohan's crow's disdain was evident. Excellently executed.
Why thank you, crow, Gohan said wryly. That's perhaps about the nicest thing you've said to me all week.
Pan smiled weakly. Gohan saw the effort as the attempt for cover it really was, but chose to accept it as it was intended—as a sign not to talk about it. Instead he bent over the fire again, wrapping the fourth and final chunk of deer in a burlap sack that would suit the purpose, and added mushrooms and the seasoning herbs to it. This he handed to a surprised Pan, bowed, and watched his daughter walk away after a short awkward pause, during which she seemed not to know what to do.
While she walked, Gohan used the ki of the fire to slap it out; he manipulated the momentum of its sudden absence to clear the ashes, and picked up the sundry cooking tools he had brought with him on this foray into the Forests of Ellfaul. Wyven avidly pecked at the remains of the mushrooms—he liked them toasted even more than he liked them raw—then flew to Gohan's shoulder at his Bonded's request.
Turning, they disappeared into the trees that had surrounded the clearing, which was slowly becoming not a clearing, but just another clump of trees. The Trees of Ellfaul would not forget the favor Gohan had asked of them today, and would exact their price when they determined it best suited them for it to be paid. This might not come for many years, it might come tomorrow, or even in the next hour—but it would be paid.
All so that His Majesty of Syre, King Tsulikthinroe Faull Whyque Quivenwood Wyvern, formerly Son Gohan of the Human World, son of Son Chichi of the Human World, formerly the future King Tsulikthinroe Oighta Chintee Quivenwood Wyvern, could meet his daughter, Son Pan also of the Earthian World, future King-Tsulikthinroe-to-be, and guide her feet onto a road the stars felt she was destined to take.
The Kino'shun Gardens had not advised him to meet her in person for no reason at all, after all.