The Seeing Chamber was not what she had expected. Avia hadn't known what to expect, though Cyrane's content expression upon leaving had been encouraging. But this small round cavern with a small pool in the center was not what she had in mind. Of course the massage she had experienced just before entering hadn't been expected either. She had the unsettling feeling, one she had had often in the last three days, that though she might say she was Montessi she had been gone from them so long that she was no longer one of the mountain Saiyans. The thought that her pride in her heritage could so easily be removed from her spirit wounded her, but there was little she could do about it except cling to what she had left, and try to regain the rest.

The black-robed priest, faced hidden under the deep cowl and sex hidden under his or her bulky garment, waved her deeper into the cavern. A ring of seven acolytes, distinguishable from priests only by their red cloaks, sat against the walls. As she entered the chamber they began to hum, a deep resonating sound that seemed to shake her very bones. An eighth acolyte was kneeling by the pool; when Avia looked at him or her, the Saiyan stood up and moved over to her, reaching for the clasp of her grey robe. Avia allowed the acolyte to remove it, glad that they kept the room warm when she stood only in her own oil-slicked skin.

There was one other here who was not an acolyte – an old woman in a black robe sat cross legged at the long end of the oval pool. "Begin," the crone intoned.

The acolyte who had removed her robe stepped back to the pool and picked up a ladle lying next to its edge. The humming acolytes silenced abruptly as the eighth acolyte dipped it in the pool reverently. Slowly, so as not to spill a drop, the acolyte crossed back to Avia and poured the dipper of water over her head. The acolytes began to hum again, but this time, half of them hummed a counter-rhythm to the others, creating a pulsing sound that made Avia's heart pound.

The water was heated; even so Avia felt a chill as it crossed her skin. As it poured down her body, she noticed that there were red flecks floating in it, and in places they clung to her skin and hair.

"As you stand, flecked in the red slivers of blood-rock, so stood our ancestor the day that the great groborzk found him on the rock over our heads," the Seer said, her voice echoing throughout the small cavern. "This monster was killing villages, eating without hunger, destroying everything in its path. But the Legendary stood his ground against the creature, and on that day the red that flecked him was his own blood from his own wounds. And the rocks under his feet, that had before the battle been black, so too were they red with his blood. And still the Legendary screamed his defiance and strength to the heavens. And so again will the Legendary come, to pour his blood over this rock, and save his people. Enter the water and sit on the center stone."

Avia stepped into the red-flecked water as the servant poured more water over her head. It seemed strange, to step into a pool filled with floating slivers of red rock while strangers watched you, but she did it, knowing it was something a Montessi would do. Each step or movement of her body stirred the water, spinning the flecks of rock around her as she settled on the submerged stone seat. Where the flecks touched her oil-slicked body, they clung, and they clung to each other until she was surrounded by a nebula of red. They scattered away from her like lace, creating crazy see-saw patterns across the water. Finally, she settled, and they stopped pouring the water over her head. It was only when the water was completely still did the Seer speak.

"As you sit, staring at your red-marked skin, remember that your ancestor paid with his blood – we can ask no less of you, Montessi." Avia lifted her head high and squared her shoulders. She would be Montessi. The Seer studied the water for a moment, reading the current of time with her sharp eye.

"With your mother's reading, I saw an unburdening," the grizzled old Saiyan woman murmured as her eyes sought hints of the future in the patterns of the rock. "With your reading, I see a great burden to come. It will be difficult to bear; you must choose between pride and love." Avia frowned, but otherwise didn't move – even speaking could shift the water, and she needed to remain as still as possible.

Then Seer's eyes widened, and she gasped, "Now I see a form sheathed in golden light! It is terrible in its fury and holy in its gaze!" Her eyes widened further, and she shrieked, "It is a female Saiyan, who bears this great power, who holds the empire in her hand!" As Avia fought to remain still, the crone began to rock back and forth, still screaming, hands hovering near her eyes as if she wanted to cover them and couldn't. "By the gods, she will destroy us all! She wields--"

One of the servants slapped the surface of the water, scattering the pattern of the flakes, and the Seer's words became incoherent cries. One of the servants grabbed the old woman, gently restraining her while another waved a brazier of burning herbs before her. Slowly, her cries died away, until the Seer hung limp in the servant's arms, her chest rising and falling slowly with the deepness of sleep.

"What just happened?" Avia said softly, working her way out of the water.

As one of the servants helped her out and draped the robe around her, the priest guarding the door answered, "She became overwrought by something she saw. It can happen." His voice labeled him as male.

"And what exactly does that mean?" Avia growled.

The priest ran his fingers around the hem of his cowl as he shrugged. "It can mean little or it can mean much. What it means will be known in time."

"You know, that is not really helpful," Avia sighed as she tugged her robe shut.

The priest smiled, flashing white teeth under the dark hood. "Well, we're priests, not teachers – we're not actually required to make sense, or really be helpful. Are you ready to begin your purification?"

Avia nodded, hoping that this go more smoothly than her visit to the oracle. The fact that it took nearly a month was bad enough; if it was all as nerve-wracking as the first ritual had been, she wasn't sure it would be all that relaxing.

Prince Vegeta had had the time of his life for nearly three weeks. At first, it had been boring, meandering through the mountains, but he was with his father, doing adult things, and then they had found a groborzk. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to kill the giant lizard-cat, even with the numbers they had, especially since the King did not become the Legendary for the fight so that the beast would last longer. After that, they were deep enough in the wilds that they continued to find a steady stream of creatures to hunt, and Prince Vegeta had forgotten all of the troubles that had plagued him. Forgotten, until they found the camp nestled in a green valley.

King Vegeta stopped over a rag-tag cluster of tents and rough huts, hovering in the air. "Just where she'd said it would be," he muttered with a grim smile.

"Who said?" Lord Vegeta asked, hovering next to his son. He, too, had been enjoying himself, but he had a bad feeling, looking at his son.

In answer, King Vegeta powered up, white light dancing over his skin. He didn't have to say anything – the look on his face was enough. "But those are Saiyans!" Prince Vegeta said, staring at the people moving below them. He didn't add that he couldn't sense anything higher than a second-class down there; the King had nothing but Elites with him.

"Saiyans who are dissidents to the throne," King Vegeta growled. The closest Saiyans growled in anticipation; the Montessi nobles exchanged quiet, calculating looks. "They're traitors to my throne, son, and they'll be dealt with as such." The King plunged into a drop, diving into a fiery plunge as he fell, fists glowing with energy. Prince Vegeta saw many of the nobles following him; only Lord Vegeta and the Montessi held back.

After a moment, he followed his father down. He nearly turned back when he saw his father blast a Saiyan into dust, but he reminded himself that they were traitors, and all deserved death. It was very different, killing Saiyans, than it was killing beasts, and slowly, the Prince destroyed his pleasure with each glowing strike.

Trunks dropped to his knees as the massive creature rolled onto its side and lay twitching. Panting, his body aching, Trunks twisted to look at Osper, who was hovering nearby. "What – was that – thing?" Trunks gasped at his first supporter. He was sure that he didn't want to do that again – he had had to go to the Legendary to defeat it.

Osper shook his head, but Trunks could tell it was a mark of disbelief, not a refusal. "A groborzk," Osper said, wonder tainting his voice. When he looked at Trunks, there was a shine of awe in his eyes. "Our legends say that only the Legendary could defeat a groborzk single-handed."

Uncomfortable with Osper gaze of near-worship, Trunks shrugged and attempted a feeble joke, "Well, I used both my hands – does that still count?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Osper said, but some of that adoration was gone, and Trunks relaxed, turning to look at the beast he had just killed. It had taken an hour of concentrated effort, of pushing himself to the limit, to kill the thing. He glanced again at the corded muscles in the thick torso that belied the short, thick legs and the flat, triangular teeth as big as his hand as he shuddered again. Trunks hadn't been sure he would win that fight. Osper broke into his train of thoughts with a gruff, "Now what?"

Trunks sighed, knowing from the last three weeks of non-stop hunting that suggesting a rest would only get him a lecture on how hard he had to work to defeat the King. These people might nearly worship him, but they sure weren't going to let him off the hook. Heck, even a request to clean his wounds was met by quiet discomfort, as if he had said something wrong. Instead, he said, "Let's head a little more south – we don't want to get too far from the palace."

"Heya!" a call came from Spara, who was waving at them while looking over the edge of the cliff. "There's another one, Trunks! And it's even bigger."

"Oh, hell," Trunks sighed, his mother's favorite curse sounding strange and yet comforting. Osper couldn't know what it meant, but he caught its meaning, and Trunks saw doubt creep into his face.

Trunks growled and shoved himself to his feet. "Let's go," he said and reached for the golden light. As the reflecting glow washed over Osper's face, it wiped the doubt away. That's how it always went – he would do something to remind them he wasn't a Saiyan, and they would begin to doubt. But that doubt would be erased by his becoming the Legendary. Somehow, he was going to have to find the middle ground.

But as he rocketed over the edge of the cliff and slammed into the black-scaled monster, he wasn't certain that he would survive the search for the middle ground.

Avia sat on the edge of the rock step, staring off to the west. Somewhere, she could feel Trunks with a certainty that frightened her. She could sense her brother's ki off the southwest, somewhere, but she couldn't close her eyes and point straight at him with reliability. She was sure that if she followed the sense that was Trunks, she could pinpoint him accurately.

She missed him horribly. And not just at night in bed, but at quiet moments like these. He had a way of finding her when she needed his company most and giving her what she needed at the moment. And right now, she needed him to tell her that it was all right she didn't feel like a Montessi, even after weeks of purification. She wasn't quite sure how long hours of mediation in smoky chambers qualified as purification, but Cyrane had declared that it was, and she was so relaxed that Avia felt she should be as well.

She shook her head, the reality of the situation grinding her spirit down. She didn't feel like a Montessi, Trunks would go back to Bardock soon, and she wouldn't see him anymore. Unless… Unless she bought him. The thought was so simple that Avia couldn't believe that she hadn't already thought of it, but her elation quickly faded. "Do I really want to purchase my mate?" she asked herself aloud; she was sure that Trunks would not like it either.

What she said almost escaped her. Then she heard her own words and frowned, trying to make sense of them. My mate?, she thought, frowning with confusion. He is not even Saiyan! How could he be my mate?

Something was very wrong here. She closed her eyes, feeling out as far as she could for ki signatures. She found Trunks' with ease, even though her brother's was faint to her. He must be closer, she thought, gazing at the horizon where she knew him to be.

Trunks' ki exploded with sudden power, and Avia gasped, holding one hand up before her eyes, blocking a blazing sun that wasn't there. The sense of power kept growing, expanding like an exploding star before settling out at an incredible level – a level she had felt only once before. Her scouter – it would give her numbers – numbers she comprehend better than this blinding power. Her hands reached to her belt, fumbling for her scouter before she remembered that she had left it in her room with her regular clothes. Gathering her gray robe around her, she turned and shot for her room, flying through the sacred hallways.

She slammed to a stop and spent several precious moments digging through her pack to find her scouter. With shaking hands, she put it on, cursing when it indicated that the power surge was out of range. She had to go – she had to find out what—

Her purification; if she left, she would have to start over, if they would even let her do so. The thought stopped her in her tracks. She only had one more day to go. That sense of power, now that she was paying attention to it, drew her like a moth to flame. And somehow, that swirling vortex was Trunks. Torn between her heritage and her love, she hesitated, unsure.

With the pain of loss in her heart, she made her choice.