Author's Note: Hello again, my readers! :) Thank you so much for your patience. I have been working on this chapter since last week and am glad to have finished and be moving onto the next. I will continue to do my best to stick to a writing schedule and update at least once a month.

I would like to give another special shoutout to MrsTolan! Thank you very much for another lovely review. I have enjoyed reading your thoughts (particularly about good ol' Phil! He's always a delight to write for.) and appreciate your time. I would also like to congratulate you and your husband on your expecting bundle of joy. How exciting! How wonderful! I wish you both the best and send wishes of good health! :)

And with that, I hope you all enjoy this next installment!

Disclaimer: The Slayers © Hajime Kanzaka, Funimation, and J.C. Staff. Any original characters belong to me.


Troubled Waters

Chapter 4

Happenstance

He had to think this through carefully.

It seemed silly, but Zelgadis was determined to keep his find a secret, even to the employees that roamed the castle. Once leaving Phil's study, he journeyed to the royal stables where the wagon was held. While Lina and Gourry indulged in their morning feast, he took it upon himself to ensure the barrels of ice cream made it to the kitchens. From there, he continued to hide his discovery among the lumps of hay until he went back to secure it.

To many, the chest would have been heavy and cumbersome. It weighed nothing in the arms of the chimera. At times like these, he was thankful for his modified body. Sometimes, he would even boast when he caught gleaming eyes of amazement. But there was no audience to boast to at present which he was more than fine with. The privacy enabled him to carry the chest to the back of the palace where the lawn before the garden laid. There, he spotted the balcony of his rooms above and commanded for levitation. Once on the balcony, he did a quick picking of his lock.

Finally, he entered sanctuary.

As he entered his bedroom, Zelgadis scanned all of Gingersnap's preferred nests. When he did not see her, he concluded she was in Amelia's rooms, in which, he'd go search for her later. At the very least, he was guaranteed that when he opened the chest, its mysterious contents would not be disturbed by notorious feline curiosity. And so, he tossed his traveling sack on his bedside, placed the chest on the floor, and went to work. It was a tedious endeavor but one worth enduring. The more he held his focus, the more sweat droplets formed and soon cascaded down his forehead. Everything else around him vanished as he persevered. The slight breeze drifting from his balcony doors or the faint footsteps marching outside in the hallway were effortlessly dismissed.

It was only the sudden distinct knock at his door that broke his intense concentration. But he ignored it anyway. Within a few seconds, the footsteps moved slowly and depressingly from his door, as if capable of sighing. Still, he did not give any undivided attention.

As time drifted on with no results, Zelgadis's face contorted in bubbling frustration. Rocky eyebrows furrowed and clumped and teeth grinded and hurt. The glowing ball pulsating from his hands fought to stay alive against the unabated current and so, eventually gave out in defeat. Zelgadis breathed deeply, cursed under his breath and leaned back onto his nightstand.

The lock refused to budge. It was magically sealed, which would require a great deal of attention, time, and expertise to break the spell. He considered casting a flow break (and his magic was amplified enough to do so) but a challenge remained. He needed stability; another party to cast the flow break while he tinkered with the understanding as to what kind of magical seal was placed.

If he requested aid, his options were limited. Asking Lina, who despite being the strongest magic-user in his company, had a reputation of blinding greed. Whatever was contained in the box, Zelgadis bore a foreboding feeling that she would take her fair share, and perhaps, lead him down another mystical rabbit hole that would only further distance himself from his cure.

His only reliable option was Amelia. Looking to her for assistance wasn't rare. They were often thrown together in battle, and when they were, Zelgadis admitted how well they were in synch of each other's impending actions and thoughts. But even so… Asking for help had become a foreign concept. He preferred solving problems on his own without burdening others. And he certainly did not want to look weak or helpless in the eyes of the people he knew.

Being weak… his mind traveled back to earlier days when he was younger, naïve, full of wishes that would make him impeccably strong and agile; those who dared to challenge him would cower in fear. Those long years ago reminded him of when his sparring was at its stride and his magic was adequate— But he hungered for more. Invincibility felt millions of miles away from his eager tongue. Without consent, he got his wish… And now he harbored the frustrating regret of losing what he once had. Like vengeful clockwork, Zelgadis blamed Rezo for that, but he knew, to some extent, it was arguably weak.

There was no other alternative. His friendship with a certain pummeling-monster hero of justice was his only meal ticket to normalcy. And she would do so without complaint or hesitancy. No matter when their paths crossed, Amelia was always eager to inquire about his investigation or to offer leads she dug up in the packed shelves of the royal library. And he recognized this. He knew she treated him differently from everyone else. And not in a patronizing or obligatory way. There was a sense of dignity, respect, and compassion that was seldom dispensed to him. Her unlimited kindness allowed her to do so. And while Amelia's vivacious spirit clashed with his shade of gloom and doom, he could not say that her rays of sunshine did not lighten his perpetual rain showers and cackling thunder everyone now and again.

Zelgadis fixated on the door. A soft sigh fell from his blue-tinted lips. Now he wished he hadn't ignored the knock.


Bundled up in a scarf, Lina combated the chill from the fluctuating temperature.

A mild breeze hung in the gray painting above the Sutton Farm property. Trailing behind Phil, she and Gourry trekked up the steep hillside towards the awaiting pasture ahead. Withering dandelions dispersed against the pummeling of their boots, sending their dying seeds afloat in the evoked whispering of the autumn wind. Lina knew her thoughts called for attention on disappearing cattle, but her mind wandered to the tantalizing drama the letters had swept in like unwanted house guests.

When it came to matters of the heart, Lina relied on her instincts rather than confirmation. Close observations of gestures, touches, unspoken truths between sealed lips and responsive eyes… She knew it all sounded tediously romantic, but there was truth to longing glances and everything in between.

Frankly, Lina found Amelia and Zelgadis dancing around each other's feelings ridiculous. It felt so needlessly complicated to her. They had known each other for years, traveled together and fought side by side. Seeing the best and worst in each other. The sorceress figured you couldn't get any more intimate than that. Not that she had any similar experiences or anything… It should have been easy to declare any harboring feelings. More so than lately, they were occupied in each others' business and company. She reasoned, there must have been boundless opportunities the two had to exchange affections. But then again, Lina considered how difficult it must have been for Amelia to be in love with someone as emotionally distant as Zelgadis let alone tell him. And as for Zelgadis…

Lina made a face and groaned inwardly. Ugh! Men!

Speaking of men, she wondered if what she witnessed was apparent to Phil as well. Dare she say, he was a more experienced man in the art of age and romance. The crown prince was never shy of expressing his feelings. Maybe he wouldn't be so nearly swayed by Zelgadis's excuses and cowardly reasons for remaining in static life.

Lina peered at the back of the crown prince's head as she walked behind him as if somehow, she would achieve sudden telepathy. "I wonder if Phil really knows why Zelgadis wanted to leave his study all of a sudden," the sorceress pondered out loud, cupping her chin in her hand.

"Well, it's obvious there was a reason he doesn't want to be here," Gourry pointed out.

"Because he has to brood at some secret location at a specific time?" Lina joked.

Gourry snorted and shook his head. "C'mon Lina. Even I know why."

Lina's lips curved downward. His oblivious cockiness to her sarcasm was unamusing. "Do you Gourry? Do you?" she threw back.

"Yeah," he replied, in his typical innocent tone. "Last night when, well, nature called," he blushed (which just made Lina roll her eyes at his silly modesty). "I saw him loading something in the back of the wagon. He's probably going back to get it."

Lina's eyes bulged at his sudden reveal. "Wait. Was he eating our share of the ice cream? I thought one of the barrels looked slightly empty!" she accused and then scoffed. 'It would all go to my hips and stay there until I die' my ass!"

"I don't think so," Gourry countered slowly. Zelgadis kept a strict diet. If he hungered for anything it certainly wasn't food. "Looked like a box or something."

"What are you saying?" she pressed, now intrigued. "He found something out in the woods and didn't tell us?"

The swordsman shrugged. "That's kinda what it looked like."

Lina narrowed her eyebrows and turned an eye to the ground beneath. Zelgadis never bothered to disclose his doings. Which wasn't a surprise. But finding potential treasure in the middle of the woods, on a path where a prominent family had supposedly died and that they were warned not to take by a deranged old woman… What did he find? All Lina assumed was that it must have been a real bonafide discovery for him to keep it to himself. If he hid it in the back of the wagon with the barrels, it must not have been too big or startling noticeable to draw attention... Now all she wanted to know was what her elusive friend was up to!

But reality called her back into focus. At the top of the hill, they were greeted by a thriving rolling pasture, occupied by hundreds of dairy cows and their offspring. In the distance, stood an aged man and woman, who waved their hands wildly in the air to gain attention. Phil motioned his head to Lina and Gourry, urging them to pick up their pace. As they raced along the bumpy land, Gourry was entranced by wide-eyed infantile faces and bubbling pink noses.

"These guys are pretty cute," he mused, tickled in amusement by the stumbling romping of the calves.

"Yeah, they are. It almost makes me miss home," Lina chimed in, running beside him.

"Because you get to feed and play with them?" Gourry concluded.

"Yeah. But then there's the slaughtering."

All the color in the swordsman's face drained. His eyes diverted to the ground. There, his mind withdrew to a disheartening dark place. In sheer horror, he balked at the comparison of the premature face before him to his utmost favorite; the rendered ever so tender roast beef.

"Did ya have to mention that?!" he bellowed, fighting the start of tears.

The sorceress bit her lip. I didn't mean to make him feel bad! "Calm down, Gourry!" Lina urged sensibly. "These are dairy cows. They're not meant to be consumed!"

"Okay fine, but what will happen to that lil' guy over there?" he pointed behind them. "He's a male so he can't make milk!"

Nice way of putting it. "They'll probably use him for breeding," she reasoned.

"Oh, so he'll have a pretty good life then, huh?"

"Yeah," Lina replied flatly, "if you want to put it like that."

Never mind he'll reap all the benefits while the females are REALLY the ones who make this place run! she retorted silently. God am I seriously thinking about the sexism of cows?! If there's ever a time to dive deep into societal exploitations of being a heifer this isn't it!

Their legs were given a reprieve as Lina, Gourry, and Phil came before the awaiting pair. There, stood Ihon Sutton and his wife, Dae, whose faces demonstrated the displeasure of the circumstances regarding their meeting. The farmer was considerably tall and lean with gnawed hands and dirt ridden fingertips. Beside him was the farm's dog, a scruffy terrier, barking its high pitch cry continuously for the sake that they were strangers and they simply did not belong on the property. Then, there was Dae, who bore a slender face and fine wispy hair. Together, their style of dress mirrored their dishabille manner. Life on a farm never called for being prim and pretty.

Lina and Gourry stood back and remained as spectators as Phil took the lead.

"Prince Philionel, thank goodness you came!" Dae declared, cradling his colossal hands into hers.

He nodded, patting her hands. "Of course, Mrs. Sutton." His attention turned to the farmer. "Now, what happened, Ihon?"

"We have no idea," he admitted, scratching his head. "I came out 'ere to check on one of our pregnant heifers, and I realized she was missin'. Along with two others."

Phil lowered his eyebrows. "Oh, dear. Are you certain they were all accounted for this morning?"

"I counted 'em myself last night and this mornin' when me and the boys let 'em out into the pasture," Ihon verified. "Somethin' must have happened to 'em a couple of hours ago."

"And you saw no signs of foul play?" Phil asked, beguiled.

"Nothing!" Dae exclaimed. "Our dog is constantly with the cows and she didn't make one peep the entire morning!" she sniffed, repeatedly dabbing her sunken cheekbones with a now moist handkerchief. "It's like they just disappeared out of thin air! I just don't understand it… You must understand Prince Philionel, it may seem silly to some, but those cows are like children to me. And to think a pregnant one has been stolen…"

Phil nodded understandingly, and when he observed the soiled dampness of her handkerchief, he offered her his own. She relished the attention and thanked him fervently while her husband remained stiff, casting a serious glaze over his eyes.

"This can't happen again," Ihon began, determinedly. "I'm not the kind of man to jump to conclusions your highness but considerin' the rumors we've heard from Dabuon and now this… that's why we asked for you. Our livelihood could very well be at stake! I don't wanna risk my daughter and son-in-law's ice cream business in the city let alone our own. We have a reputation to uphold in this community. We have our family name attached to their business. We're the founders! Not to mention, I've got my own suppliers in the city countin' on me too. I don't need anyone in Dabuon thinkin' they can soil my family's name for some cheap knockoff!"

The fire of passion and loyalty festered in the farmer's eyes. It may have also been his waving fist, ruddy turned face (and was that steam coming out of his ears?) that caught Phil's undivided attention. Nonetheless, he understood when an unjust act was enough to rile a person with indignation; especially when it came to protecting his or her prospects and the people closest to them.

"I understand completely," Phil replied calmly. "Rest assured, this will be investigated. And you can count on my full support. In the meantime, I will personally see to it that security will be provided to the farm by tonight."

"Thank you, Prince Philionel!" Dae adulated, breaking out into a hopeful smile. "If there's anything we can do—"

"Easy now, Dae," her husband hushed. She listened dutifully as he peered at the prince with less than convinced eyes. "Nothing has been done yet."

"There's no need for repayment," Phil assured sincerely, knowing the man's wariness of the upper class's flaunting of 'promises'. "Now Ihon, if you will permit it, may my friends and I examine the area? Just out of sheer curiosity. In case something might have been overlooked."

The farmer released a deep exhale through his nose and grumbled, "Suit yourself."


At last, Amelia could breathe.

After a painstaking tour of the garden, Vonzelle required a nap before lunch was to be served. Once she showed her to her rooms, Amelia hastily searched the castle for wanted company. To be specific, Zelgadis. Vonzelle may have deprived them of a walk, but the princess would not allow the opportunity to catch up slip away from her hands again. Hopeful, she ventured to his rooms, and repetitively knocked on the door. She had thought she heard someone inside but accepted there was to be no answer when the doorknob remained unturned. Disappointed but determined, the princess made a mental checklist to visit the few places Zelgadis would potentially be.

Her first destination was the royal library. When she arrived, she found it to be empty. No books were removed from the shelves and no pillows were disturbed and smashed by comfortably seated visitors. From there, she went to destination number two. The observatory. It was a long walk to the secluded area, but Amelia prayed it would be worthwhile. Upon opening the door, her hopeful heart was dashed by no signs of life. Telescopes remained untouched and papers scattered about a wide wooden desk harbored a light coating of dust. Amelia's shoulders drooped and she blew out a dejected huff as she closed the door.

Returning to the center of the palace, she bumped into a bustling Ernoldous. Before she could speak, he passed along a message from her father, informing the princess of the missing dairy cows and that Lina and Gourry tagged along. She then asked about Zelgadis's whereabouts (knowing he was the chimera's personal manservant that her father had appointed), but alas, Ernoldous had not seen him since his initial arrival.

At this point, Amelia suppressed her discontentment and gave up on her hunt for Zelgadis. If she wasted any more time inquiring and looking, she'd likely find her grandmother back at her side. There, she would continue to rattle in her ear about prospective suitors with deep pockets and how ladies should not show the ideal vantage point of the garden by climbing trees in heels and flouncing revealing skirts for all perverse spectators to gawk and relish at.

By this notion, Amelia swiftly scampered to her rooms. Her grand escape consisted of a necessary wardrobe change and a quick jaunt to the royal stables. Dressed in the appropriate garbs for the weather, she snuggled down into a long-sleeved belted tunic, thick leggings, riding boots, and a cotton scarf draped about her neck. Once she entered the stables, a smile of relief graced her lips. There, with carrot in tow, she found a reliable four-legged friend who bore incomparable patience.

Daddy had acquired the young ivory mare as a birthday present and Amelia couldn't have asked for anything better. She's got a lot of spirit! she recalled Daddy chortling when they were properly introduced. But a heart of gold! She is the ideal companion for any fighter of justice!

And there was no debate about that. Her pure white snout hung over the wooden gate and large powerful teeth eagerly snapped for the bright orange treat. Within minutes, the carrot was devoured. Just as quickly, Amelia prepped her riding gear, harnessed her mare, jumped on top, and rode out the palace gates. She decided her destination would lie on the outskirts of the capital, as it would do wonders not only for her horse but for her jumbled mind as well. Somewhere deep in the quiet peacefulness of the neighboring woods, Amelia hoped to find a place for her companion to graze while she, would perch on an exceptional branch just high enough to swing her feet freely and get lost in one of her idyllic novels.

Riding beyond the city limits, Amelia was intoxicated by the wild blusters of the wind. A parade of tingles and chills danced upon her flushed cheeks all the way to the tips of her blowing locks. The restrained chains of expectations were released and the wide-open yonder was her gateway to momentary paradise. Outside palace walls, she witnessed the beauty of the changing seasons. The blowing winds across the shriveling grass created a daisy chain of dying leaves that dove high and low like a silent symphony of harvest time. The drifting of fallen pinecones and sap of cedar trees soared up her nostrils, warming her heart with thoughts of a cozy lit fireplace and roasted acorns to savor.

She only wished the winds would go beyond her dreamy sensations. She craved to be carried elsewhere; somewhere tranquil where all could be made right and words of persuasion and acts of trouble were all resolved and forgotten. But she would have to return to the reality of castle guards, high corridors, stacks of paperwork— which were all things she promised to do her utmost best for. But facilitated unwanted courting... Just thinking about it, made the unimaginable feel increasingly closer to becoming true. Amelia nudged the side of her horse and trotting hooves picked up their pace. The farther she traveled, the desire to fly the coop burned brighter. At times like these, Amelia lamented that if her mother was still among the living, this suitor business might be a little less painful.

Daylight faded in the dense shelter of the woods. Amelia held tight against the reigns and squinted up. High above in the trees, holes of light shone through thinning dying leaves. Spotlights upon the ground created an erratic path throughout the scattered ghostly trees ahead. She supposed some sampling was necessary for the search for decent lighting.

Any hopes of seeking for the perfect perch were abruptly cast aside. Ahead in the near distance, a reverberation tore through the wind before stabbing into aging tree bark. In the dim shadows, barks and snarls interspersed followed by the shouts of a man. Feet clambered, hollers and yelps intersected into a manic kerfuffle. Then, the earth ripped. Crumbing dirt and snapping roots exploded into Amelia's ears. A shakable tumble wasn't far behind ending with a strident thud and an ear-piercing animalistic shriek.

Amelia's pupils dilated. She was consumed with the urge to charge into action, but her mare had other ideas. Staggering feet stumbled and kicked as eyes darted and nostrils flared. The cry carried a hauntingly familiar echo which prompted the horse to whip her front legs into the air.

Amelia struggled to command the reins as the mare's hooves slammed back into the dirt. "Easy, girl," she tried to soothe with a gentle stroke to the animal's neck.

The touch was rendered useless as another howl claimed all inhibitors' ears. Spooked, Amelia's head jerked to the side, listening to a tirade of commands. Out from her left, came a circus of vicious Harrier hounds and their master (with bow and arrow) in pursuit of a defenseless warren of rabbits. Amelia stood by as they rushed along the rugged terrain until their presence and blaring orchestra dissolved into the depths of the woods.

Her mind traveled back to the dire matter at hand. Now for certain, she knew the distinguishable cry did not belong to the hunter or his pack of baying dogs. There was something, not too far away, that was the victim of the calamitous incident.

Amelia tapped the side of her horse and pointed forward. "C'mon!" she encouraged. "As allies of justice, we need to see if anyone is hurt!"

Determined to bring aid, Amelia ordered her mare to travel on, stepping between winding trees. As she hustled further into the mossy passageway, the cries returned growing louder and more desperate. Once she was graced with a clearing, Amelia leaped from her horse and hustled. Leaves crunched under the weight of her boots as she scrambled forward, pumping her arms fiercely in the air. Drawing close she slowed down to catch her breath before poking her head around a weathered tree.

There, Amelia found the source. Before she laid a heavily panting draft horse, whose young masculine master was crouched beside it. From above the injured animal, Amelia observed where the damp earth gave way, creating a small edge cliff.

"Easy, easy boy… It's all right," she heard the man whisper.

Amelia rounded the tree and step out into the light. She swallowed as she took another step closer. "Um, excuse me?" she started softly.

The man nearly jumped out of his skin at the intrusion. As he turned on his knees, his eyes met Amelia's and brought a hand to his chest, calming the furious pounding.

"I'm sorry," she said, presenting an apologetic hand. "I didn't mean to startle you."

A subtle nod was given, eyes barely meeting as he stood to dust himself off. As he fully rose, Amelia was transported. Large cobalt eyes blinked in wonderment. The man was a paragon of preferred height, statuesque with a sculpted chin, clean-shaven, and strong broad shoulders narrowing at his waist. His hair was dark as the dimly lit earth, sharp and sophisticated with a precise wavy pompadour. His eyes held layers of natural tones creeping in like veins of a turning leaf. Upon his creamy complexion, were rarefied military-like clothes in the accompaniment of a red cape and expensive pair of riding boots.

Why, she could have mistaken him for a prince! And not just any prince (because Amelia had met so many before and was often left unimpressed), but one directly written from her guilty-pleasure novels! Of course, she could not confirm he was a prince nor would be taken in by looks alone. But the semblance of a swashbuckling sparring gent was uncanny. Of all the authors she read, Amelia figured they must have mirrored the characters on paper to someone of his physical likeness!

"It's uh- fine," the young man assured, adjusting his throat. His hand was raised and pressed to the right side of his forehead with strands of hair pushed back.

Amelia beckoned for her dazed mind to return to sensibility. She fixed him with a calm yet concerned gaze. "I was out for a ride when I heard your horse crying out," she explained. "What happened?"

"He was startled by a hunter's pack of dogs," he answered, gesturing towards his fallen comrade. "And now we seem to have um- taken a detour," he determined, observing his less than familiar surroundings.

Amelia nodded. "I see." She focused on the startled creature sprawled out and her heartstrings tugged for intervention. "Poor thing. Let me help you-"

"That's really not necessary-" he declined as she came forward.

"No, please," Amelia insisted, gesturing towards herself. "I'm a magic-user. I can heal his leg with a recovery spell in no time. It's no trouble at all."

Within a short pause, he breathed deeply and gave a curt nod permitting her to come forward. Standing beside the man, Amelia dropped to her knees and hovered her hand over the injured tendon of the horse's front right knee. A recovery spell was activated, creating a bright cluster of white.

"Shush, I know it hurts," she soothed with a motherly tone. "But I'm gonna make it better, okay?"

With every tender stroke against its groomed mane, the horse's breathing steadily relaxed. As each minute passed, the pain lightened and soon, the horse abided by the princess's words. The dramatic huffs dissipated, and the healing progression accelerated and consummated. The correction of torn tissue reattaching to bone was complete. Amelia sat back on her knees and smiled at her success.

The ability to bend and stretch encouraged the horse to rise. With patience, he wobbled and straightened himself upwards, back on all fours. Amelia gave the massive animal space as she rose to her feet, watching him take prideful steady gallops.

"Does that feel better?" she asked, her grin widening as she witnessed the sparkle of determination light up in the stallion's dark eyes.

A satisfied neigh was returned, and Amelia gave a small laugh. She ran her fingers over the fine hairs of his side and traced the gray speckles of starlight dancing across his tinted white coat. The man too smiled in relief but soon made a sharp wince. He plastered his hand back against the tender mystery beneath.

Between his fingers, Amelia witnessed seeping rose-colored liquid. "You're bleeding," she announced, pointing at the injury.

The young man removed his hand from his forehead and examined the accumulation of coagulated blood on his palm. "Oh, this?" he acknowledged, with a casual inflection. "It's just a scratch."

Amelia shook her head. "Here, let me."

Before he could rebuff, she came to his aid, brushing back short strands of hair. There, she revealed the intensity of the wound. What he suffered from was more than a bonk on the head. The skin was severely scraped just below the hairline. Layers were torn as dark blood pooled in place of flesh. Luckily, it was fixable. The lighting intensified from her palm, its brightness momentarily blinding him. As she focused, Amelia watched as the skin repaired itself, growing and rejoining without a single scar left behind.

Their closeness erupted a moment of déjà vu within the princess. Immediately, she felt something strange yet familiar translate between their eyes. As if she had known him from somewhere before, far back in the recesses of her memory. But nothing could be conjured in the saved history of her past.

She assumed this occurrence of déjà vu was easily confused with her reading from the previous night. Here she was, tending to the wounds of what appeared to be a man of physical caliber. Perhaps it wasn't the same as healing a muscular arm from a mighty battle, but an injured forehead from a pesky tree branch would suffice. Not that she was hoping for a man to heal! After all, doing an act of good was all she could ask for.

"There," Amelia finished, allowing the light to go out. She stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. "How does it feel?"

The young man opened his eyes and ran his fingers over the formal injury. He marveled at his skin's soft smooth touch. "Like new. Thank you." He glanced at his companion; who's curiosity propelled him to study the unattended mare.

"We're lucky you found us when you did," he remarked. "Unfortunately, I wouldn't have been much use to Valentine. My capabilities lack in the arts of white magic."

"Glad to be of assistance, then," Amelia beamed. "I like your horse's name by the way. Valentine… It's very heroic."

"Thank you. And yours?"

He wanted to know her name? Amelia blinked in shock. She then realized what he met and felt stupid. "Her name's Owena," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It means warrior, doesn't it?"

Amelia perked in surprise. "Yes. Most people don't know that."

"I read in my spare time," he replied. "When I can."

The princess nodded in return. "I know what you mean," she related, staring up into the intricate branches of the trees. "Sometimes I stay up late just so I can have some time to myself."

"Sounds like we both have our time monopolized," he surmised.

"Yes." Slowly, Amelia's lips dipped, and her chin fell to her chest. She then peered over her shoulder and braced a smile to the man. "But I enjoy what I do," she declared honestly. "I know in the end I am making a difference for others. And that's what counts."

"I'm afraid I can't say the same," he revealed with despondent eyes. A deep exhale departed from his nostrils. His eyes gravitated to his boots. "It often feels like my efforts benefit my father rather than the people who need my help the most. It's all very— complicated." He shook his head. "I'm sorry; I have no intention of burdening you."

Amelia caught a flash of disappointment in his troubled eyes. She released a reassuring smile. "Oh no, it's all right. I don't mind listening. I don't know your circumstances but… maybe if you stay persistent things will change in time," she uplifted.

No. She did not know his circumstances. But somehow, her voice and words made any shred of trouble dissolve into nothing. He brushed off the strange feeling and instead, reached into the inside pocket of his cap and pulled out a small closed bag.

"Here," he offered with his extended hand. "For your troubles."

Amelia did not need to peek to know what was inside. She had no financial troubles, nor did she require payment for her services. For any authentic hero of justice, acts of kindness needed to carry depth; money would only make them shallow.

Amelia raised her hands and waved them adamantly. "Oh no, that's not necessary. Really—"

"I insist," he gestured again. "I'm sure you need it more than I do."

Well, that was disputable. She debated arguing his motive of generosity but decided not to. She did not want the money but saw any persistence would be rendered useless to his eagerness to give. So, she devised a fair agreement.

"Wait here," she ordered.

The princess turned on her heels and hurried over to Owena. The man lowered his eyebrows in puzzlement, but stayed put, nonetheless. Strapped to her horse's saddle, Amelia reached for her satchel and fished through it. Once she found what she was looking for, she cinched the bag shut and returned with a curled palm, opening it up before the man.

"If we're exchanging, then I want you to have this," Amelia extended kindly, revealing the contents through the see-through sachet bag. "These are medicinal herbs. In case, Valentine or you need them on your journey. I insist."

There was a flicker of hesitation within his eyes, but he succumbed to her wish at her light playful insistence. "Thank you," he said.

His fingertips brushed against her open palm and as if the sensation brought an unexpected reaction, he quickly snatched the sachet and drew back. Amelia produced a quizzical stare, tilting her head to the side with an arched brow. Between blinks she observed the shiftiness in his eyes as his hand curled into a fist, holding the sachet tight to his toned chest.

"I uh, best be off," he stated abruptly with an awkward adjustment of his throat.

Amelia followed his hastened movements as he strayed away. He kept his back to her and tremulously rubbed the back of his neck. She was uncertain what she had done to make what appeared to be a serious force turn meek by a mere innocent stroke.

A panicked swelling of unwarranted culpability grew. "You're not from these parts, are you?" Amelia suddenly deduced.

He pivoted and gazed at the friendly but fragile smile inching from the corner of her lips. She could feel his eyes study her. Finally, he huffed to himself, shook his head as if to wash off any new feeling, and released a minute, but still noticeable debonair smile. "Is it that obvious?" he chortled.

Amelia's face brightened in relief as he retrieved his horse.

"I was here on business," he indulged vaguely, grabbing the reins. "But now I'm going home..." He was about to mount his horse when he paused. A hand remained grappling the saddle as he turned back to the princess. "This may sound strange, but— have we met before? You seem so familiar to me."

"No." Amelia shook her head, still smiling. "I would have remembered."

He nodded back slowly. He found himself hesitating to make off, analyzing the deep pools of cobalt irises that ached for his mind to think and remember. Alas, he came up with nothing.

"Well, thank you again for your help," he, at last, said, now atop his horse.

Amelia grinned as his horse turned to leave. "Travel safely!"

She bided him one final farewell with a wave of her hand, watching the duo canter off into the maze of trees. The smaller they became did the sound Valentine's pounding hooves fade away, eventually blending with the coos, creaks, and howls of the woods themselves. By distance's doing, the young man and his gallant horse were all now but a memory to Amelia. She exhaled at the thought and her waving hand ceased and fell to her side.


The Sutton pasture was an expansive piece of land to explore and because of that Lina and the others decided to divide and conquer.

There wasn't much out of the ordinary. Only cows, a determined barking dog who ran about like a windup toy, and divots and holes to blunder their feet while investigating. When they came to the same conclusion as Ihon Sutton, the trio left the farm for the carriage awaiting them. After nearly twisting her ankle from a pesky hole, cursing under her breath about it, and then going back down the hill, Lina and her feet were thankful for Phil's earlier insistence that the journey required the need for a carriage.

"So, what do you guys think? Do you think Ralteague did it?" Gourry started to ask, parked next to Lina across from Phil in the rolling carriage.

"It has to be them," Lina concluded. After thoroughly rubbing her sore ankle, the sorceress leaned her elbow on the side of the carriage door while her hand rested against her cheek. She stared out the window, watching the scenery as they rode by. "Or at least, we can say this specific farm was targeted," she clarified. "On our way here, we passed at least three other farms. This one is the largest of them all and it's also the same family that runs the ice cream business in the capital. I wouldn't exactly call that a sheer coincidence if you get my drift."

Phil nodded. "Agreed. And there's no evidence to suggest that they were attacked by a wild animal either."

Lina returned his confirming nod. There was no other party that had the motive to randomly pilfer dairy cows from a rivaling farm. So, if that was the case…

"You don't think they would have wandered off?" Gourry considered.

Lina peeled away from the window and listened to her traveling companion. "They couldn't have," she argued, shaking her head. "There was no damage to the paddock and their dog set off no alarms that something was remiss. Which was just odd, because she would not stop barking at us while we were there." Rightfully annoyed, she still couldn't get a reprieve from those repetitive yaps as they now took residence in her ringing ears.

Gourry stroked his chin. "Then that leaves who… The prince?" he more so stated than asked. "I mean, he seems to be the most likely suspect."

"We went over that," she reminded with a wave of her hand. "If Ihon Sutton has his timeframe correct, then the prince would have been with Phil when the cows went missing. Unless…" She arched a suspicious red brow. "Unless he brought a little help with him on his 'out of the blue' visit."

"As likely as it could be, that's only speculation," Phil chimed in carefully. "And that still doesn't explain why Mister Sutton's dog wasn't upset at the time the cows disappeared. She was barking at us when we came over so naturally, you'd think she'd do the same if a stranger approached the herd." He sighed and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Honestly, I can't think of any other explanation…

"Without further evidence, there's not much I can do," he announced, folding his arms across his wide chest. "I simply can't start pointing fingers at Ralteague without any proof. If they took the cows, they're long gone by now. And even if I sent someone to investigate in Ralteague, we have no idea where they could be hiding them."

The cast of frustration all but vanished at the flash of righteousness glistening in Phil's eyes. He thrusted one mighty fist into the air, the other thumping against his heart with the utmost zealous sincerity a true pacifist could muster. "But in the meantime, I will see what I can get out of Prince Derek when he returns with his father's revised proposal. Believe me when I say that the guilty party will be held accountable and that justice will prevail! No one shall get away with stealing from anyone!"

"Oh, I believe you," Lina remarked, more than familiar with Phil's well-meaning but often flamboyant gusto.

"But uh, Phil, didn't you have us steal ice cream from Ralteague?" Gourry contradicted. It apparently bothered him enough to make the thought relevant to others.

"Huh?" The crown prince blinked, snapping out of his deluge. His furry eyebrows drooped. "I didn't ask you three to steal. I just wanted you to buy some ice cream to compare, that's all."

"And we did, Gourry," Lina joined in, poking him in the arm with her elbow. "We just uh," she paused, scratching her chin while scrambling for justifiable words. Finally, the came. "We just took more than our intended share. But hey, that was about finding out if they stole Seyruun's secret recipe in the first place! If anything, it was only karma coming back to haunt them."

"Then wouldn't this be karma for us too?" Gourry reasoned, twisting his mouth to the side.

Lina's shoulders and back slumped as her lips turned down. "Don't make my head hurt any more than it already is."

The swordsman's observation was not completely out of the question. But Lina did not believe her greediness of the sweet cream was a warranted reason as the motive behind the theft of cattle. Surely, this was Ralteague's doing. As to whether it was the actions of a rivaling business or the Ralteague government themselves that was up for debate. Still, she felt her gifted deceptive nature was hindered by something on the tip of her tongue yet distant from her working mind.

"I'm not really sure if I understand what the big deal is," Gourry abruptly disclosed.

Lina perked at her companion's sudden declaration, tearing away from her perch. Her forehead scrunched and she squinted her eyes. "What are you talking about, Gourry? We've only been discussing this all afternoon."

"I know what going's on, Lina," he answered coolly. It was his turn to recollect out the window. "I just wonder… is this whole ice cream business worth all this trouble? I mean, I get Ralteague is trying to copy Seyruun's because its world-renowned. And they're probably competing for profit or to be known for something other than their head-chopping thing."

"Go on," Lina encouraged slowly, ignoring the bit about the 'head-chopping thing'.

"But is it really necessary to stir up all this drama?" he finally got to the point. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, if they wanted to sabotage Seyruun, wouldn't they be doing something—"

"A lot worse?" she finished.

He met her eyes. "Yeah."

Amazed, Lina sat back and folded her arms over her chest. "How very observant of you, Gourry," she praised with raised eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

"I don't think it's that impressive, Lina," he replied with a small sheepish smile. "I've thought about this the whole time."

"'Course you have," she mumbled.

Lina fell silent after that, steeping in her inner thoughts. In rare instances, Gourry noted eye-opening evidence or at least, brought up an overlooked detail in which benefitted their goal and/or journey. Often arbitrarily dispersed, his words were helpful and, in this case, brought to light the nagging question that quietly whispered in the back of her mind. From what the sorceress understood, Ralteague wasn't under any economic stress. They were a profitable country. Perhaps too profitable for those who owned crystal chandeliers, fur rugs, and multifarious stretches of land. And then there was what Phil mentioned earlier in the day…

According to Prince Derek, their beef production was at its full swing. And if that was true, then they needed additional land through a law-abiding written agreement. Or as Phil believed, for expansion of their already growing hard ice cream business. So, what were they trying to do? Hold cows hostage in exchange for more land? Lina stifled a laugh at how ridiculous that scenario would be. No, it had to be something else… Was it feasible they had gone beyond mirroring Seyruun's product and decided to swipe the literal physical manufacturer for its unsurpassable dairy delight? But why take only three? And that still didn't explain how they managed to do it without getting caught.

Or was there still something else, something they weren't privy too?

Coming back to her surroundings, Lina felt Gourry and Phil's eyes scrutinize her expression intensively. Finally, she clued them in.

"I think Gourry might be onto something," she started slowly. "I think it's plausible that Ralteague could be stealing Seyruun's dairy cows for themselves. But I don't think that's the entire picture." She paused and drummed her fingers on the cushion beneath her. "I mean no offense when I say this Phil, but— what if this ice cream ordeal is all just a beneficial distraction? What if they're misleading us in some way?"

"Because of the land agreement?" Phil caught on.

Lina simply nodded.

He pursed his lips in thought. "I wouldn't rule it out. But why on earth do it this way?"

Her thoughts swarmed for an answer. Whatever Lina tried to surmise, her sense of logic did not hold back and poked holes into her flying theories. Eventually, she gave her mind a rest and sighed. "I'm not entirely sure yet."

Amber eyes dashed to the distancing woods beyond. But I have a hunch…


A/N Count.:

Ah, the plot thickens! And for all parties involved! There's so much more to come now with the plot picking up its pace... without sharing too many spoilers, chapter five will, at last, have some Amelia and Zelgadis exchanges, as well as a deeper glimpse into our newly introduced mystery prince... or, have we already met him before? ;) LOL

I also wanted to mention that I tried to include a breed of dog (Harrier hounds) that was present during the medieval era to give it a more authentically middle-age feel. Slayers surely take liberties from various time periods and is both a conglomerate of European/Asian mythos. Not to mention, fantasy elements of course! Noting such, I try to balance and incorporate all sorts of possibilities/ideas from all perspectives in the hopes of enriching and exploring this adventurous medieval-esque world. :)

And with that, thank you all for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoyed it and hope I can stick to my writing schedule! lol

Until next time!