The Variation Elements
Prologue
It was the sound of an infant crying that woke him up.
He did not need to open his eyes to know it wasn't morning; his enhanced senses informed him of the smell of night crawlers blindly exploring the garden outside his open window. In the distant trees, surrounding his home, he heard the soft swoops of an owl's wings -- no day bird flew with such deft predatory confidence.
The infant crying was silenced to a gentle coo. He heard his mother's unmistakable voice, feminine but firm, speaking quietly somewhere in the house.
Assuming it to be yet another of the infant's nightly meals -- which were frequent; the child was insatiable -- he rolled over, putting his back to the room, trying to go back to sleep. But his eyes were open, requiring no time to become accustomed to the dark. His pupils naturally and instantaneously dilated or shrunk to varying lighting.
In the kitchen, his mother was upset. Anguished. He knew it. He smelled it. He felt it.
It hurt his heart.
Someone else was in the house as well. Someone very large; the heavy foot falls shook the little house from top to bottom as their great weight paced from the humble dining room to the kitchen. No concern; It was only Ojisan. His deep voice could also be heard, speaking with Kaasan.
Tension... It was in both of their voices.
The carpet did not stir as bare feet came to rest on it; the mattress did not creak as weight shifted off its support. Floor boards made no sound as feet padded silently across the bedroom to the door, toes separated to cushion each step.
No human ears could have heard the door carefully click open, or in the dark hall have been able to make out the small ghost of a shape creep to the frame of the doorway separating the hall from the tiny dinning room, vaguely lit by light spilling out from the kitchen.
They were still speaking.
"...they rioted, right in front of my castle! Since the scare with Cell, they don't think I'm strong enough to defend the kingdom anymore. Even though the monster didn't even attack us, the village seven miles to the west had been completely demolished. Times are changing so fast, and the people don't care about peace anymore. They want power. And they want youth. And change. Do you know how long I've been ruling that kingdom? I've seen children born, grow old and die... But they're all waiting for me to die now-"
"Otou, that's a lie. You've ruled Fry Pan Mountain peace for decades, and that last war you had with the Saber Tooth Castle kingdom was won with no casualties on our side!"
"That's why they would be willing to except my proposition... one from my own lineage."
"This is crazy. I remember the Blue Monarch kingdom. I do. They were peaceful-"
"Dunadar has changed a lot in the past few years... they're increased their military. More than doubled it."
"But I'm not a princess anymore! And anyway, I'm married. I'm too old to-"
"Jondalar is two years older than you, Chi-Chi. And you're not married anymore. You're widowed."
A loud crash made the shadow in the hall jump and dart halfway back to the bedroom before realizing the sound was not in response to its presence. Daring to cross the dark dinning room, hugging the matte black corners or the room, it glanced into the kitchen for a split second before vanishing again. Glimpsed in that brief flash was a new, fist-sized hole in the spice cabinet.
That would have to be repaired in the morning...
A rustle of fabric pulled tight over a bulging stomach filled the room as Ojisan shifted uncomfortably. Kaasan had not replied.
"... You really shouldn't be so violent when you get angry. Goten could have started crying. Or you could have woken Gohan up. I know this is difficult for you, but you have to understand it's hard for me, too. Goku was always my ideal first choice but..."
The deep voice faded, then became silent for a moment. When it continued, the tone was much gentler.
"Please don't cry, sweet heart. Besides, the people do ask about you a lot. Most of them haven't seen you since your wedding... and there's a generation of people that don't even remember you. Some never even knew you."
"... but Otou, what you're suggesting is... wrong somehow. If King Dunadar is expanding the Blue Monarch Kingdom by force-"
"He's calling it the Blue Monarch Empire now, sweet heart. They've become imperial. Not 'King Dunadar'. 'Emperor Dunadar.'"
"... If Dunadar really is using military force to take over peaceful kingdoms, why would you ever want to make a deal with him and his family? Especially one that involves me!"
"Because Fry Pan Mountain is now on their western border We're the last unconquered kingdom left; to their north and east are the Mitoji Mountains, and their south is nothing but the Emerald Sea... They want Fry Pan. Not just the mountain but our entire kingdom, our land, our crops, and our people... all of it. And... Chi-Chi, we have no weapons, and we have no military. Nothing do defend ourselves with. At all. A decade ago, we had three cannons, but they hadn't been used in years; back then, I was certain that Goku was my definite new heir... and with little Gohan already born, it seemed so perfect, so I sold our cannons. Chi, do you understand that I sold my kingdom's only weapons?!
"I used to fight all the wars myself... it wasn't much effort when I was young. People feared me; they heard the stories. Back then, to foreign kingdoms and beyond, I was known as a giant ruthless cannibal. And with Muten Roshi-sama's training and my ax, no one had the guts to battle me. I was young. I was powerful. I was fearsome. But now... Chi, I've hung up my ax; it hurts my arthritis to swing it. My callouses are even gone..."
The shadow glanced into the kitchen again, just enough to make out half of Ojisan's back as he looked quietly, helplessly, down at his own large tanned hands. From the dark, sharp eyes saw that, indeed, though the flesh of those sinewy hands were still rough and abrasive from a life time of toil, the rock-hard callouses that had once textured his palms and inner digits had healed over. He had lost his power.
The shadow backed out of the door way and leaned against the darkened wall. The scent of hopelessness and loss made the air feel stale and lifeless.
"-had hoped that one day you and Goku would precede me and take the throne... He had such a good heart, and was strong enough to even take my place..."
Silence followed. Sensing no great movement, the keen eyes returned to the corner of the lit doorway to see Kaasan looking out the window, a bundle of black hair rooting at her breast, "He...," she was quiet for a while more; the shadow smelled embarrassment coming off her, "I was widowed before and he came... back. Otou, he came back, if he-"
"You cannot think that way. I'm sorry, but you cannot think that way. In my time as in most people's lives death means death. You can't get used to the dead not staying that way; it's wrong. Goku was an incredible man who could do anything, but in death he has no more power than any other of us... humans."
"I know! Otou, I know all that. Take Goten-chan a moment, I need to blow my nose."
She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, but dabbed her eyes instead of blowing her nose. Finally, her voice low and constricted -- more docile than normal, giving in -- she said to the wooden floor, "You can't ask me to make this decision. It's not fair; to agree, I would be a bad wife. To refuse, a bad daughter. It's not fair. I... perhaps... Otou, you can't ask me to make a decision like this."
"I'm not asking you to. I know, I know it's hard. I wouldn't have felt any different were it me after your mother died. So I know I can't ask you to decide."
"You can't mean all of this," Panic and a tang of bitter hope, as though in her exhaustion she half-believed it was untrue. A bad dream. "You can't... seriously..."
"I have decided for you. As I had the last time. As both king of my kingdom and your sole living guardian." His voice dropped the official tone to it, adding as one mature adult speaking to another, "It's for the best of all of us. It could mean peace, with you as partial heir to both Fry Pan and Blue Monarch, as well as you could... try to move on. Jondalar is quite handsome, isn't he? And I've always heard he was nice. A polite young man... a good... father figure."
Okaasan did not reply again. Silence passed. Keen eyes in the dark narrowed in pain as he felt his mother's heart sink.
Finally, "Hai, Otou. You... did decide the first time, and I shall never regret it. If I'm even half as lucky this time around..."
Eager to encourage, Ojisan added, "This will be good news for all; Jondalar has been asking since you were thirteen. If I hadn't already met Goku by that time-"
"Goten is already asleep, Otou. It's late." A pause, "He will abide by our rules, won't he? Has he agreed to challenge?"
"He already has, honorably and in person. He... might arrive sooner." A rustle of paper held in large, thick fingers, "Here's the challenge. Do you want-"
The night-silence, consisting of the distant chirp of crickets and polliwogs, was interrupted by the sound of tearing paper, the sounds following suggesting the torn pieces were being balled up, followed by a soft thump and the shifting of a plastic garbage lining, suggesting it had been thrown with some force into the rubbish bin.
"I'll...," Ojisan sounded less enthusiastic than before, "I'll inform Emperor Dunadar and Prince Jondalar myself that... his... challenge has been... a-accepted." A restrained sob started, then ended, buried and muffled in the thick hair of the baby she held. "Go to sleep."
The shadow glanced back into the room to watch Ojisan stand and put a huge hand on either of Okaasan's narrow shoulders, drawing her and the infant into a hug that almost caused her to vanish into his large body, stroking her dark hair, her back, his beard, peppered with white and gray, snagging a few of her fine, straight strands which stretched the distance between them as he pulled away from her, kissing her forehead, "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."
Taking the cue, the shadow outside the kitchen glided back through the dark to the bedroom, slipped inside and leaned against the closed door, head low, hands overlapped in front of thighs.
Waiting occurred in that bedroom, without movement, as the sense of Okaasan and Ojisan moved to their places of rest and after a long time -- longer for Okaasan, who cried for quite a while first, the quiet, dignified, composed cry of a princess -- they both succumbed to sleep.
Count to two hundred first. Listening with those sharp ears to make sure both loved ones were breathing evenly. Then it emerged again, a shadow bleeding into the other surrounding shadows, it slipped past sleeping Ojisan on the couch, his horns catching a small glint of the starlight through the window, into the kitchen, with its wooden floors. To the trash can.
Eyes pierced the darkness, not having to strain to make out the crumpled ball of wadded paper, sitting beside an equally crumpled envelope, sitting atop all the other garbage.
Deft fingers picked it out, flicking away pits of coffee grounds, then, catlike and swift, it vanished back into the dark.