I do not own Slayers.
My Resolve
"Hm hm hm hm!" The young girl laughed.
"Augh! You're almost as bad as that Bandit Killer!" A large man yelled. "Boys...let's get outta here!"
"Oh no you don't!" the young girl shouted, her white cloak floating in the wind, and black hair swaying slightly. "I, Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun, as a mighty warrior of justice, will not let you escape!"
She jumped down amongst them from her tall perch, the limb of a tree, and fell as squarely as she could, landing on her bottom rather than her usual outcome of landing squarely on her face. Shaking off her pain (and the fear that she may have broken her tailbone),she stood up and readied herself to cast a spell.
"Fireball!"
Throwing a small globe of fire, Amelia watched as the crew of bandits burst into terrific flames, throwing many of them into the air and badly searing the rest. Defeated, the surviving bandits immediately fled the scene, screaming about the new Black Haired Bandit Killer.
"That takes care of them!" She said, smiling. She walked over to a nearby man who was carrying many bags: a traveling merchant. Helping him up, she lightly began running over his bruises with a spell of healing.
"Thank you, miss...Amelia?"
She giggled. "Justice always wins in the end. Sooner or later those bandits would have met their judgement at the hand of righteousness!"
The man cocked his head in puzzlement at this strange girl. "Well...if you would accept this token of my thanks..."
"Oh, no!" Amelia responded. "I could never accept any money! I am a warrior of justice, merely helping out those in need and defeating the evil ones is thanks enough for me! Although..." Her stomach grumbled. "I am a little hungry...and I'm kind of...lost."
The man smiled. "Such a strange girl, but so generous. All right. To get to the next town, just follow this path for the next couple of hours. They have a nice inn and a restaurant there for you to get filled up on."
"Oh, thank you, sir!" Amelia happily noised. "Maybe I can find Mr. Zelgadis and my other friends there!"
"I suppose you can only hope. Farewell...young warrior of justice!"
After some time, Amelia came to the next town, and after eating at a local restaurant, set out to look for her friends. They had been separated after a battle, and finding them again wasn't proven easy. But Amelia wasn't about to give up.
"Justice and love will see me through to the end." She said aloud as she walked near an alley.
"Justice?" a soft voice cried from within it. "What exactly is 'justice' to you?"
A man stepped forwards. He was extremely tall, towering above Amelia, nearly twice her height. A leather cloak covered his shoulders and back, his face concealed by his hood. He wore a set of well-worn travel wear, as if he had been traveling for months without rest. All of his clothing, save for his shoes and gloves, were colored red, or at least had a reddish look. He held a long, wooden staff in his hand.
Amelia turned to this stranger. "Who are you?" she asked.
The hooded man shook his head. "My true name is useless to you. Do not be alarmed. Call me 'prophet' if you wish."
"Ok, Mr. Prophet..." Amelia replied, suspicious of the stranger's appearance. "What exactly do you mean by 'what is justice to you'?"
The prophet stirred. "Exactly what I asked you. What is justice to you?"
Amelia made a fist. "Justice is upholding good and triumphing over evil! I made a vow long ago...no matter what it takes, no matter what I have to face, I will always see Justice and Love triumph in the end!"
"Young and naive." The prophet responded, shaking his head.
"What...do you mean?" Amelia's hand went to her chin.
"Young one, let me share with you...a vision. A vision of a faraway world. A vision of, one like yourself."
"Um...Okay..." Amelia frowned. She didn't like where this was going at all. This old man was in an alley with no witnesses around, and he looked like some kind of sorcerer. However, she decided to go ahead and enter the alley. If the man had evil intentions, she would put an end to them. The prophet reached out his hand, and Amelia took it.
Immediately a courtyard of stone filled her vision. Within the courtyard, there were patches of green grass and red flowers growing, being tended by gardeners. Along a stone path through the middle, two men walked. An old man with a strong, grey beard and long grey hair. He wore a small crown of sparkling silver, a gray, regal robe flowing over his strong, wide features. Next to him, a young man wearing thick plate armor, colored blue. On his head was a small silver circlet. His face was handsome and young, his hair long and blonde. To Amelia, he looked like a more rugged Mr. Gourry, with thicker armor and a long, blue cloak with an ornate letter "L" sewn into the fabric. The old man had his hand around the young man's shoulder. The old man turned his head to the young man and spoke.
"My son, the day you were born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered the name...Arthas."
The voice overwhelmed her hearing. As it spoke, another image overwhelmed her mind. She saw a figure, encased head to toe in cold, deadly armor, sitting on a gigantic throne of ice. The figure's helmet was adorned with a large blue jewel, and the helmet itself was lined along the bottom with what appeared to be skeletal fingers. The figure was leaning on one arm, a large sword dug into the ground with the other arm. The sword was etched with runes along the blade and decorated with a symbol of a horse's skull on the hilt. The figure was frozen in the ice, its feet covered in white snow. As the old man's voice spoke, the figure's eyes opened, bursting into cold blue flames as the ice imprisoning it began to crack.
"My child, I watched with pride as you grew into a weapon...of righteousness."
Another vision flooded Amelia with a blink. The young man was back, he was fighting. A large warhammer was in his hands, holy power resonating from it. Skeletons and walking corpses surrounded him as he struck hard at the ground, light flowing from his hammer, burning the undead. More skeletons surrounded him, and the young man's expression grew desperate.
"Dammit. Is there no end to these undead?"
Blink. The frozen figure once sitting on the throne now stooped over a large plain of snow. It wiped some snow away to reveal the ice of a frozen lake. It stood and drew its sword, holding it out as a gesture of challenge.
"Remember, our line has always ruled with wisdom...and strength."
Blink. The young man, riding a white horse, stood in front of a line of soldiers, all wearing armor worn from battle. A large, strong man with a grey beard stepped forward. They overlooked a large city. The people were living their lives as normal people would. The young man spoke, his voice emotionless.
"It won't be long before these people turn into the undead...this entire city must be purged."
The old soldier's eyes flew open in shock.
"How can you even consider that?" He replied. "There has got to be some other way!"
The young man's eyes narrowed. His voice became hard and fiery.
"Dammit, Uther! As your future king I ORDER you to purge this city!"
The old soldier shook his head.
"You are not my king yet boy," He said, voice growing angry. "Nor would I obey that command EVEN if you were!"
The young man looked taken aback. His voice returned to its previous emotionlessness.
"Then I must consider this an act of treason."
The old soldier shifted, incensed.
"TREASON! Have you lost your mind, Arthas?"
"And I know that you will show restraint...when exercising your great power."
The man was now in the city. Anyone he saw, he was cutting down. Corpses were everywhere.
"This is for Lordaeron...this is for my kingdom..."
Blink. Snow fell around the frozen knight. As the snow hit the sword, blue fire began to spread across the blade. When the blade was completely engulfed in the cold flames, the knight slammed the sword blade into the ice, piercing it deep. All the snow nearby was blown away from the terrific force, as cracks began to appear in the ice.
There was a terrible rumble as the ice began to roil. Breaking apart, a huge figure pushed through the ice from below, emerging in an explosion of terrific blue fire. The creature was lizardlike in appearance, but skeletal. As the creature emerged, it let out a roar. When it had fully emerged, it walked forwards, spreading its broken, dead wings.
Below, in a valley, a large army of skeletons and zombies were gathered.
"But the truest victory, my son...is stirring the hearts of your people."
Blink. The young man stood in front of a small, bearded man. The bearded man was waving an axe frantically at the young man.
"You lie to your men," the bearded man said in a heavy accent, "And betrayed the mercenaries who fought for you! What's happenin' to you, Arthas?"
Blink. The skeletal creature took wing, letting out a massive roar. Below, the undead army began to cheer wildly in dead voices, blue flames gushing from their mouths and eyes.
"I tell you this...for when my days have come to an end..."
Blink. The young man stood in front of his father, armored head to toe in the cold, evil armor of the frozen knight. His skin, and his hair, were the pale color of death. The runed sword was in his hand, and he advanced quickly upon the old man.
"What is this? What are you doing, my son?"
"Succeeding you...Father..."
The young man plunged the blade deep into the chest of the old man.
"You shall be..."
The young man pulled out the sword as his father fell to the ground, his crown rolling on the ground, covered in blood. The young man smiled, and spoke.
"I will be..."
The frozen knight overlooked his army and leaned back in satisfaction.
"I am..."
The vision went black.
King.
Amelia's sight returned to her, and she fell to her knees.
"Now...let us see where your vision of justice will take you."
Amelia's sight became filled with the fire of a burning city. She looked down, on her hands was blood. Gasping, she looked up to the city, and was horrified to see the pattern of a huge magic circle made of streets and walls. Suddenly, out of her mouth came an insidious laugh...
"NO!"
Her vision vanished.
"No more...please...no more..."
Tears were rolling down her eyes.
The prophet laid a hand on her head.
"Justice and truth are noble things to fight for...but they can also damn you to a dark path. Remember this well...you will be tested someday."
Amelia looked up and gasped. The prophet was gone.
"Amelia?"
Startled, Amelia turned to this new voice. Recognition came over her sight.
"Mr. Zelgadis..." Amelia's eyes welled up with tears and she jumped at him, grabbing him around the waist. She began to sob bitterly.
"A-Amelia? What's wrong?"
"Mr. Zelgadis...Am I a good warrior of justice?"
Zelgadis pried her away from him and stared into her eyes.
"What brought this on?"
Amelia told him of the vision she had been given. As she went along, it grew harder and harder for her to speak, and the tears poured more and more. When she got to the vision of Seyruun burning, she simply stopped and sobbed into his body again. Zelgadis thought long and hard. He reached down and wiped the tears from her with a cloth.
"Amelia...all I know is that you're a very, very good person."
"Do you...mean that?"
"Yes, I do. And I seriously doubt you would make the mistakes of the prince in your vision."
"Really?"
"Definitely. Even if you did, Lina would fry you before you ever got that far."
Amelia chuckled weakly.
"Come on. Speaking of Lina, let's go find her." Zelgadis smiled.
"Yeah!"
Far above, the prophet seemed to watch. Good...she has learned from what I showed her. For the struggle ahead, her mind must be clear.
The man removed his hood. His face was seemingly both old and young at once, and his hair was long and fan-like, colored a light shade of violet. His eyes were closed like that of a blind man. Turning his face to the sky, he smiled.
A/N: I'll give you a hint as to who this prophet is. It isn't Xelloss.