Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar settings or characters from DBZ or DGT, and the song used is by Green Day and I do not own it either. Please respect original characters and settings that I have created and do not use them without my permission.
The Black Glass Necklace Chapter1 – Goodbye
I walk a lonely road
The only one I that have ever known
Don't know were it goes
But its home and I walk alone
I walk this empty street
On the Blvd. of broken dreams
Were the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone
My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find
Till then I'll walk alone
I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line of the edge
And were I walk alone
Read between the lines of what's
Fucked up and every things all right
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive
And I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a...
My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I'll walk aloneI walk this empty street
On the Blvd. of broken dreams
Were the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a..
My shadows the only one that walks beside me
My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I'll walk alone
It was the seventh day of the season. There were five seasons on the planet Aronai; the fall, the winter, the spring, the dry summer and the dark summer. The moon appeared full every forty-one days, and there were two full moons to a season, five seasons to a year. Aronai had been the fifth planet Merateya had known as home, and she was just thirteen years old - thirteen Korlish years, anyway, nine and a quarter Saiyan years, sixteen Aronainan years and twenty-four and a half years if she were on the planet Reukusub.
The Reuku people had a thing for purchasing slaves from Koralli, as Korlish slaves cute looking, with their tufts of pale coloured fur and wispy fair hair. The Reuku were well known for their perfectionism and their desire for everything to look wonderful and exciting. There were not many Korlish slaves at this trading, and there would not be another slave trade until the seventh of the next season, yet there were many elegant looking Reuku roaming through the markets, and Merateya could feel their eyes studying her. It didn't matter; Reukusub would be somewhere she'd have loved to go to. And the people were extremely friendly and caring, most slaves were treated more like children than servants. And she had pink and white fur, two of the more uncommon colours amongst the Korlish. Mostly females had green, purple or yellow fur, and only one colour instead of two. Males were usually blue, brown or orange. Her own parents had both been white, before they had died and she had been left to her mother's cousin, whose wife sold her in an instant.
Merateya growled deep in her throat at the thought of her, sniffing bitterly as she silently cursed the woman. She'd show her, she'd marry the Emperor of Reukusub's son and invite her to their wedding, where she would feel like an outcaste, lonely and unwanted, the lowest branch of the intergalactic social status.
The low, droning and mournful tone of a great bell rang through the market place, three times in a row. The crowds stilled, and the noise hushed. Even the animals for sale in the markets ceased to break the silence. Merateya could feel her heart beginning to pound against her ribs. This is it, she told herself. Thousands of people were going to witness her being poked and prodded, possibly partially undressed and humiliated just so the slave buyers could decide whether they would purchase her or not. The black band that had been tattooed around her left bicep glowed blue, beginning to prickle her skin. Her master pushed her along with a gentle nudge in the back. She had liked serving him; he had been the kindest of all her previous masters. But his niece had been wrongly arrested and he needed at least a thousand credits to bail her out.
"Please do your best, Rateya. I'm sorry that it had to be you, but you are worth so much more than the others," whispered the grey-haired man, using her shortened name, and he added with a bleak tone, "Arkked means the world to me."
Rateya nodded, "I know. Perhaps I will be freed, and I can come home to visit you." It was wishful thinking, neither of them said anything, it was discomforting to think it. It would never happen.
She stood up on the podium, ninth in the line, as people came up to look at her.
"Ah, this one is pleasing to the eyes," said one man with a southern Aronainan accent.
It was true. A silken covering of pale pink fur grew over her face, reaching her eyebrows, making a V at the centre of her forehead, and trailing to her delicate cheekbones and from there to just below her ears. The skin on her chin, nose, cheek apples, and eyes and around her mouth was the colour of ivory, her lips the same colour as her fur. She had nice shoulders, flawless and soft, lean muscles lining them and a sliver of white fur peeking out across the front of them, the rest hidden by her dress. In the same arched-v shape on her forehead there was white fur over her chest, only trailing several centimetres. The tip of the V reached her breastbone, and the top of the triangular shaped patch of white started just below her collarbone.
There was more fur on her arms, pink, starting at the elbows and covering her forearm like a glove, as it reached her wrist it began to turn to a triangular shape again, the point ending at the first knuckle of her middle finger. Her fingers and palms and thumbs were free of fur. Rateya's nails were kept short, filed square so that she was not hindered by them whilst doing her chores. She had silvery-blonde hair that shimmered in the daylight and caught the colours of her surroundings in sparkles of light. Like Saiyans, the Korlish also had tails, yet they were covered in silken, not coarse, fur. Rateya's was pink, and curled firmly like a belt around her waist. Her eyes were gold and cat like, with thick black lashes defining their beauty.
A Reuku approached them, he was young, aged about nineteen at the oldest, his hair fine and bronze coloured, eyes a glowing honey-colour. Rateya went still as he peered into her eyes, searching for something in them. She could feel him delving deep into her memory, feeling her spirit firsthand. It was rare that anyone could do this, and she when he did she could feel him intertwining his soul with hers so that he could know it. She liked him, he felt warm and interesting, highly intelligent. She hoped all the more that he would buy her. He stepped back, a knowing smile tugging gently at his lips. He had felt her think that.
He reached a hand out towards her, "May I?" he asked, not to her master, but to Rateya herself.
She nodded quickly, and shivered as she felt his hand stroke her fur. He was testing its texture. "Smile," he commanded her, not unkindly.
She obeyed, flashing her perfectly straight teeth at him, feeling like a cheeky child that was laughing at someone scolding them. It was peculiar, she thought, that feeling. It often came to her when the situation couldn't be any more different.
"Can you show me your predatory state without transforming?"
Rateya nodded, calling on her powers within her. Her ki burst through her veins, and she used it to transform to her predator state. He had said to do it without transforming, but she knew that he had meant without transforming fully. Her teeth had become sharp, dangerously lethal fangs and her nails had turned to feline-like claws. The man nodded, and she withdrew from her aggressive form, returning to her normal state.
"Tell me, child, who is the Emperor from the Ancient Times in Nyann that created the Crobian Medallion?"
Rateya thought for a moment, the medallion was a magical artefact that could give the wearer control of an entire galaxy.
"Well, to most, the Medallion is only a mythical legend," she began, "and it is commonly believed that the Medallion was created by Emperor Jiandara of the west country, however, I personally think that it was the Emperor Kelises of the east country, and that Jiandara took all the credit for it, after stealing it from Kelises. Forgive me if my contemplation of the legend interferes or offends your personal belief on the subject, sir."
"Not at all. My belief is perfectly in tune with yours, child," he replied. He turned to her master and added, "How much are you wanting for her?"
Her master made an unsure gesture with his gnarled hands, his sunken eyes sad as he realised he was really letting the girl go. "Make an offer," he said suggestively, his voice hoarse with both pain and age.
"At least 1200 credits but let me speak with her a little more."
"How old are you," he asked her in perfect Korlish.
A little taken aback by his knowledge of her language, Rateya took a moment to answer. "Forgive me for my slowness, I didn't realise you spoke Korlish. I am thirteen Korlish years old," she replied in Reuku, and the man smiled.
"So you can speak three languages," he mused aloud in the language of Saiyans.
"Seven actually, Saiyan included," exclaimed Rateya in Nyanni.
The man turned to her master again, "I raise it to 1700, good sir. Is that acceptable by you?"
Her master was almost in tears, he had never imagined having a pocket with that many credits in it. As he smiled in a bittersweet way, the lines that marked his face with age deepened, and Rateya could easily see the sadness about his lips and eyes. She felt her throat begin to go dry, her eyes hot with tears as she forced herself to keep them open and to breathe consistently, and heavy breaths that caused her chest to heave.
"Wait," cried out a voice from the crowd surrounding them. "I wish to examine the child."
They did not speak loudly, but there was something about their voice that let Rateya know they were powerful and important. As they made their way towards the pedestal the crowd parted and they fell to their knees in the man's wake. As the moved so that the shadows parted around their face, and the armour they wore glinted in the sunlight, that Rateya's master let out a gasp. As she noted the Saiyan armour they wore, their muscular build, broad shoulders, the power that radiated from everything about the person, she swallowed and finally brought herself to look at their face. She froze, recognising them immediately.
It was King Vegeta.
"Let me see the girl," he demanded. He looked into her eyes in a way very much alike to the other man, peering through to her soul. He stepped back for a moment to examine her fully. He turned to his scribe beside him, "It is her most definitely," he confirmed. "And the same age as my son. It cannot be anyone else."
"If I may inquire, Your Majesty, what it is it that is so unique about Merateya?"
Vegeta looked at her master, before repeating her name, trying it on her tongue, "Merateya? All the more reason to know it is you." He held her gaze for a long moment. "I knew your father," he told her with a patient tone, "We were great friends as children."
"2000 credits for the girl," Vegeta turned back to her master.
The other man, who had been standing aside for the past few moments, stepped forwards. "2200."
"2500," countered the king.
The Reuku glanced towards Vegeta and then at Rateya. "3000."
Vegeta was known for growing impatient easily. "8000," he had the money; a few thousand credits wouldn't hurt.
"9000," responded the Reuku. "There is something about you child, I can feel it more than anything."
"Please, sir, but, may I ask your identity?" Rateya inquired sweetly.
The man smiled, his eyes glowing more intensely, I am the Keeper of the Library of Reukusub. Otherwise known as the Bookkeeper."
Rateya blinked. He had to be one of the most important people, besides the Emperor, in Reukusub. The Library was where all information on everyone and everything was accounted and documented. And he did all of it. Alone. No wonder he wants me, she thought silently. He eyes flickered towards the King. And he had known her father.
"11 000," said Vegeta, crossing his arms across his chest, both he and the slave master turning to the Bookkeeper.
The man shook his head. "You have more money than me by a thousandfold, and this poor child need not stand out here in the sun while we confirm it," he turned to Rateya, a hand slipping into his pocket, "I shall remember you," he said, and he reached out to her, slipping a necklace over her head. It was beaded with droplets of black glass, each uneven in shape and smooth as ever against her skin. Her hand reached up to it, feeling its texture against her soft fingers.
"Thank y-," she looked up but he was gone, disappeared into the crowds.
She looked around for him, hoping to spot him somewhere, but she couldn't. A hand landed on her shoulder, "Goodbye Teya," her master whispered, his cracked lips pressing against her cheek in a fatherly manner, "Thank you," he said. She looked up at him, his bony cheeks glistening with tears, and her throat went dry again.
"Goodbye, Corbin, but do not be troubled. You are rich now. Remember me, as I shall never forget you. Goodbye," she said once more, blinking away her tears as she followed Vegeta's scribe through the crowds, her throat burning painfully, and she was too upset at the life she was leaving behind, one ridiculed with chores and rough times, to be excited about the one she was entering, in a palace with a prince and a queen and a king, and fancy banquets and tournaments, great food and soft beds. And as she followed her new master through to their space pod, she could hear and feel nothing except her tears and the black glass necklace she fingered around her neck. She would always remember that day.
Thanks for reading! Please review, and I will have another chappie up soon. Just so you know, Merateya is the mother of the fanfic's main character, this chapter was just kinda like a prologue.. thanks