Chapter 2-Lost & Found

"So, we lost the relics and the witch?" Hoium said, his agitation apparent. The three were sitting in a cave high above the rising waters. A small fire was in its center. It gave no heat, but the drenched travelers didn't seem to mind. The fire's black flames danced before them, giving just enough light to see the walls. "Well, at least we got here." Said Satyr. The young apprentice looked optimistically at his master. Hoping his words had comforted him. No such luck. "WHO CARES! WITHOUT THOSE RELICS WE CAN'T REACH OUR GOAL!" He slammed his fist against the cave wall, causing it to crack a little. "I still don't understand why we need the witch. Aren't her relics enough?" Cush asked thoughtfully. For him to ask a question was rare. He was as smart as he was powerful. "No," Hoium replied calmly. "We need her blood."

****

*Drip...*Drip....* Trista awoke to the patter of rain. Her head was clouded and ached. The after math of a serious concussion. The first thing she saw was trees, and storm clouds, filled to the brim beyond them. Those clouds will burst any minute. She thought. Her internal clock told her it was about 6:30pm. How long have I been here? Suddenly it all came back to her. She sat up with a jolt. "Ahhh!" Agonizing pain ravaged her body. She fell back in the dirt. Perhaps a quick health evaluation... She discovered she had a broken left arm, bruised her mid back, and something was wrong with her right foot. She pushed herself into a sitting position. She looked at her pants leg. Pants? In her unconscious state she had de-transformed. She patted her outfit, looking for her transformation pen. It too, was gone. It must have fallen out with the keys. "The keys!" She decided to call them to her. "Keys of Time! Come to me!" Nothing happened. She tried again. "Staff of Garnet! Come to me!" Still nothing. Then she remembered the spell: 'And let not the time witch call her relics...' They had cast a spell so that she couldn't call the time relics. By now it was pouring rain, so much it was a small flood. Trista pushed on her knees and franticly searched the ground with her good arm. I Have To Find Them! I HAVE TO FIND THEM! The water was ½ inch thick and was rising. Unknowns to Trista, the keys were being washed away from her. The mini-flood carried them down the way and buried them in the mud.

After 10min. Trista decided it was best to move on. She was sneezing, and if she stayed in this rain in her condition, she would die. She decided she could come back and look for them later. She would be no use to anyone dead. She stood, and cradling her arm, she started walking north. But the elements were getting the best of her. She had been walking in flood rain, unprotected and with a broken body for to long. Her head was burning, her vision blurring, and she felt so weak....She only walked about 2½ miles before she collapsed in rain.

*****

I hate this. He thought as he trudged though the wood, rain soaking his cloak. Usually, he didn't mind the rain, but this was to much. The sky was to stormy to fly and he was a long ways from his domain. He was looking for a small cave he could stay in until the mini flood had passed.

Then, just out of the corner of his eye he saw something fall. Though the water level was rising, curiosity drew him. Perhaps its some tired fox. To his surprise, it was a woman. Her green hair was a tangled mass floating in the water. He turned her over with his foot. She looked as if she had been fighting. If he left her there, she would die. But why should I help her? Would I get out of it? The perceived answer was nothing. He turned away but then looked back. He stared at the figure for a moment, a look of puzzlement on his face. Then, for no apparent reason he decided to save her. He picked her up and felt her shiver in his arms. She doesn't have much time. He knew of a bed & bar* in the next town. It was only about a mile from where he was now. He ran (super speed) to the next town.

It was a typical night at the Black Dragon. The men were singing folk songs to past the storm. Suddenly, the door was kicked open. Actually, it was kicked down. Rain gushed in. The mood instantly changed when they saw whom it was. "Piccolo!" The self-appointed Demon King. He was feared through all the Earth as a vicious villain. Though many of them hadn't seen him up close, his name was known far and wide. The men stared in disbelief; convinced they would never see their families again. "Where's the owner?" Piccolo hollered in his gruff, baritone voice. Timidly, a chubby man of medium stature came forward. "I-I am...Sir." "Give me a room" He said, gesturing to the woman in his arms. For the 1st time, everyone noticed her. "Probably his latest victim," someone whispered. Usually, Piccolo would have killed him on the spot, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. So instead, he shot the man a devilish look and made a note for later. He and the owner took the mysterious woman to the 1st available room. Just then, the owner's son, Bon came running down the hall. "Dad! Dad! Laci just-" Bon crashed right into Piccolo. "Uh-Uh-" the hardened killer looked down at him with cold eyes. Groob, recognizing the danger decided to save his son. "Bon! Ferny's wife is a nurse. Get her quick." The 16-year-old gave no remark as he bolted down the stairs. He arrived with her minutes later. By now, the woman was shaking, riddled with fever. The men left as the nurse striped the woman of her rain soaked garments.

Outside, the men waited. Groob, looking any way but at Piccolo, and Bon doing the exact opposite. Then, realizing his son was staring at "The Demon King" Groob said "Bon! You lazy sack of bones! What're you standing around here for? Git down there n' serve the costumers!" He reprimanded as he gave his son a smack to hurry him along. Then he realized his mistake. By sending his son away, Groob left himself alone with a merciless killer. But he can't be that merciless right? I mean, he brought in the girl. "So...Who is she?" Groob ventured to ask. "Hmm?" Piccolo asked. "Th-The girl. Who is she?" Piccolo stared at him with those cold, cruel eyes. He had no reason to answer. As "The Demon King", he was under no obligation to. Just then, the nurse came out. "You can see her."

She was lying in bed; the quilts pulled up to her chin. Her arm lying in a sling on top. "I took care of her arm," Mrs. Ferny began. "It should be fine in a few weeks. Keep an ice pack on her right foot and make sure she doesn't leave that bed until she's fully recuperated. And she has a high fever so give her lots of fluids. It probably won't break for a few days so watch her." "Wait, you're not staying?" Groob asked. "I'm sorry, but the children are home alone and Bob's drunk. I have to go," She explained. "But you two should be able to handle it tonight. I'll check on her in the morning, before I go to work." With that, she was gone.

There was a moment of silence. "I suppose you'll want a room too." The owner said, annoyed at the lost profit. Then he realized who he was talking to. "No charge, of course." He added quickly. "I'll stay with her tonight." Piccolo stated flatly. Now Groob didn't feel right leaving him alone with her, but he wasn't about to deny him anything either. "Of Course! Mr. Piccolo Sir. I'll just git another be-" "That won't be necessary." Piccolo interjected. "Ooookay. Well, I have to get back to my customers so...Good night." Groob quietly closed the door, thankful he had lived...So far.

Piccolo sat crossed-legged on a chair. It was dark save for the glow of 1 small candle Piccolo found in the closet. Could what I felt back there be real? It wasn't an exact power level, but it was power. An immense power, even though its diminishing... He stared at the woman intently, who seemed to be lost in some dream. What power do you hold? Whatever it is, I plan to claim it as my own.

* Hoium is Hebrew for gentile. Satyr is a variety of demon. Cush means full of darkness.

*Like The Prancing Pony in LotR

A/N-Piccolo DOESN'T DRINK! He knew of the bed and bar because he passes it from time to time. That's it!