Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental multi-fandom project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 3 August.
In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."
Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.
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"Five Greetings"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'
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Like all of the villagers of the Pueblo de Los Angeles and the surrounding area, Don Diego de la Vega waited impatiently for the Pueblo's new Alcalde to disembark from the coach, perhaps more impatiently than most; the attitude and methods of this new Alcalde would determine who lived and who died; Don Diego and Senor Zorro... or perhaps even, if God was smiling down on him with favor, Diego would finally be free to live his own life without either mask...
When the new Alcalde finally stepped out of the coach, Diego couldn't believe his eyes, automatically stepping forward to clap his hands on the other man's shoulders.
"'Don' Ignacio!"
The other man smirked and returned the gesture, "'Senor' Diego! So, here is where you disappeared to; Madrid just wasn't the same without your presence."
From where she had been standing, Victora stepped forward to look at the two men, "Diego, you know the Alcalde?"
The two men released each other and the Alcalde - Ignacio, according to Diego's greeting - spoke, "Si, he does, I would never have finished at the University without the aid of Diego de la Vega... forgive me, Ignacio DeSoto, newly appointed Alcalde of the Pueblo de Los Angeles, at your service... Senora?"
It was true; without Diego's tuition in subjects like Literature and Maths, Ignacio wouldn't have had a chance of graduation unless he'd resorted to cheating, something he had been tempted to do before the Californian Don had offered his help.
"Senorita," Victora corrected, causing Ignacio to turn a disbelieving look on Diego.
"De la Vega," Ignacio shook his head, "You mean to tell me you've let such a lovely woman remain unattached? I've never before taken you for a fool, Diego, until this moment..."
Diego chose not to rise to the bait, instead making the other side of introductions, "Ignacio, Senorita Victoria Escalante; Victoria owns the Pueblo's best tavern."
"The tavern, you say? Excellent! Come, Diego! I will buy you a drink and you, you will tell me of this Pueblo."
"No, Ignacio, I will buy you a drink and you will tell me what happened to seeking high office," Diego counteroffered.
"Ah, it doesn't matter who buys first," Ignacio proclaimed, "We both will buy many rounds this evening to celebrate our reunion!"
"Yes, this is indeed worth celebrating," Diego agreed, guiding Ignacio towards the tavern, never saying that the real celebration was that it seemed that his prayers had been answered, Zorro would not need to ride again and he could begin to live... idly, Diego wondered if that weekend would be too soon to propose to Victoria...
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The Spanish Ambassador looked up from his paperwork, "Ah, bonjour."
The newcomer frowned, "What?"
"I'm sorry, it's become a habit to speak the local language," the Ambassador switched to Spanish, "Buenas dias, Senor, how might I assist you?"
"You are Ambassador Diego Sebastian?"
"Si?" the Ambassador nodded, "I am he. What brings you to Paris?"
"I regretfully bring tragic news from Los Angeles, Ambassador... It is my sad duty to inform you that your father, Alejandro de la Vega, has passed away."
The Ambassador of the Spanish Crown to France turned his attention back to his papers, adding a sharp dismissal, "That man is not my father. You may leave the way you came in."
The messenger bowed his head, "Have a good day, Ambassador."
The Ambassador snorted, his day had been fine until this person had arrived to bring up a past he no longer considered his.
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Ten years earlier, in the Pueblo de Los Angeles, Don Alejandro de la Vega was once again railing in the tavern against the latest taxes imposed by the Alcalde and against his son's own quiet acceptance of them.
"I simply cannot believe you, Diego!" Alejandro was fuming, "These taxes are bleeding the Pueblo dry and you think we should just accept them because the Alcalde claims they're for roads and wells and... and... and... No true de la Vega would ever just stand by and let such lies happen!"
"So be it, Don Alejandro," Diego stood up firmly, unable and unwilling to take anymore, "You talk so often of how no son of yours could do this or no son of yours could be that, then very well; claim Zorro as your son for all the good it will do you - I renounce the name de la Vega!"
"...My son, I..."
"I am no longer your son," Diego cut him off before storming past him to leave the tavern.
As Diego vanished out of sight, moving faster than he'd been seen to move in years, Alejandro sank into his chair, face pale and eyes wide, "What have I done...?"
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Vicky Vega - properly Victoria de la Vega, but she wasn't fond of her full name, considering it too much of a mouthful to say and beyond that never having known the great-grandmother she was named for anyway - felt like she had just been hit with a ton of bricks, all wrapped up in a nice white linen tablecloth. The last time she could remember her head hurting as bad as it did now had been after her graduation celebration where she had drunk too much of the wine that her father had permitted her claiming that it was a special occasion. She hadn't know what she wanted to do with her life after graduation, so her father had suggested joining the family business - at least for a while - and while once, a hundred years ago, that might have meant raising and selling horses, now the de la Vegas were better known as the family that had owned and published one of Los Angeles' longest-running newspapers, The Guardian. She'd never intended to make a career out of being a reporter, instead she had just meant to work there long enough to make her father happy before finding something better - the radio industry was picking up and stations were always in the market for good voices, that was an idea that sometimes appealed to her when she thought about it. But every time the owner/publisher - also known as her father - brought her a story and asked her to look into it because he trusted her, she found herself caught up again and unable to leave The Guardian. This was the last time, story or no story, it was time for Vicky Vega to get out of the business - getting hit over the head and waking up in dark alleys was no way to live. The problem was the reason she had woken up in a dark alley with a bump on the head, the story her father had wanted her to handle because he couldn't trust anyone else... if she had needed any better proof that it was true and there was corruption in the LAPD - and probably City Hall too - reaching up to the top, it didn't get much better than someone using her head for a snare drum and warning her not to stick her nose into things that didn't concern her or they'd see how pretty she was after it was cut off.
"My God, Victoria," her father who never used her shortened name gasped as she walked into his study at the manor where generations of de la Vegas had lived, "What happened?"
"Guess what, Dad?" she answered somewhat rhetorically, "I think there might be government corruption in Los Angeles, can you believe that?"
"I was afraid this day would come," Phillip de la Vega sighed as he stood up from behind his oak desk, crossing the room to where a picture of his grandfather, Diego de la Vega, hung on the wall.
Vicky's eyes widened in shock as the picture swung away from the wall, revealing a safe that she had never known was there. Carefully, Phillip turned the dial until the safe opened and extracted a simple thin book, bound in black leather before shutting the safe and swinging the picture back to hide it once more. Slowly, he walked over to the chair where his daughter sat and handed the book to her.
"Read this, Victoria, and then meet me in the library," he instructed, spinning on a heel and rapidly leaving the study.
Frowning, Vicky undid the looping string that kept the book closed and opened it to the first page, reading what had been written...
'The true story of Diego de la Vega and his life as the outlaw El Zorro, considered a hero to some and a bandit to others, written in his own hand. If you are reading this manuscript, then you are my descendant and a true de la Vega. It is my hope that you do so only to learn of your family and its history, but it is perhaps too much to hope that greed, injustice and corruption will not one day rise again within the Pueblo de Los Angeles. If it is thus, my descendant, and it cannot be fought openly, if you would still fight, then read the words that will follow and learn from them; if you cannot clothe yourself in the skin of the lion, then put on that of the fox...'
It took Vicky time to read the entire journal, hours in fact, but when she was done, she found her father in the manor's library.
"Dad, I..."
Standing by the fireplace, Phillip raised a hand to forestall further comment from his daughter, instead reaching up to release a hidden catch and the two de la Vegas watched as the back of the fireplace swung away to reveal a secret passage.
"There is more to see, Victoria, before you say anything," Phillip informed her.
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"Senor Emissary!" The Alcalde greeted, "It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Pueblo de Los Angeles. I am the Alcalde, Luis Ramon. If there is anything I can do to help you during your stay in Los Angeles, please, feel..."
"Alcalde," the Emissary of the King cut Ramon off, "Do not grovel, do not attempt to ingratiate yourself with me. You've already failed. My purpose for being here is to determine the punishment for your failure."
"My apologies, Your Excellency," Ramon attempted to save some sort of face, "But I don't believe I have your name."
"My name, Senor?" the Emissary looked at Ramon disapprovingly, "My name is Don Diego de la Vega, son of Don Alejandro de la Vega with whom you are acquainted and second cousin to and Emissary from His Majesty the King of Spain."
Ramon's face turned pale.
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The Alcalde entered the tavern in a fury, "Is there a problem here, Corporal?"
The Corporal nodded and pointed at a stranger, dressed in the clothes of a caballero, standing nearby, "Si, Alcalde, this man refuses to pay the traveller's tax and inform us of his identity and destination."
The strange caballero turned to face Ramon, "You are the Alcalde, Luis Ramon?"
"Si," Ramon answered sharply, "and you are?"
"My name is Don Diego de la Vega," the caballero answered sharply, drawing the sword he had been gifted by Sir Edmund Kendall from his hip, "You killed my father. Prepare to die."
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Author's Note: I'm sorry for the last one, I just couldn't resist the temptation...