(Author: I should probably mention the from here on the author notes have and will not changed form the original.)
Author: I was stupid and apologize. I did not realize that I wasn't accepting anonymous reviews. And here I was drowning in self-pity because I thought no one liked me. I also apologize if the wording is weird or difficult. I get stumbled in the wording a lot. I'm working on it. Here's the next chapter, the fastest update I'll ever have. I am not the best writer so if all I get are flames the surprise won't be much. I am currently looking for a place to post fan art so if anyone could help me with that email me at Thanks a ton.
Tsuara: You're not doing the disclaimer?
Author: It's pointless. Nobody who makes a career out of writing sucks at writing as much as I do. Besides it was in the first chapter, why do it again?
Kurai: Cause people like Tsuara would miss it.
Tsuara: Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! You're so mean to me!
Author: You know Kurai you just made fun of your self in saying that.
Kurai: Things change, as did Tsuara. She changes into me. The transformation gone through when someone gets a brain sigh, amazing ne?
Author: -sweatdrop- On with the story
GAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARA
-Tsuara's POV-
Good god this sucked. 'Somebody gag me with a spoon.' I thought. I fought back a sigh and almost rolling my eyes. I was in a fucking tavern full of drunks escorted by an elite team of teenage soldiers who called themselves the Dragon Slayers.
To top it of I'm on a completely different planet. If it wasn't for the fact that I could see the Earth in the sky I would have thought that I had gone back in time. Seems more reasonable than being transported to a completely different planet that is close enough to see my home planet and nobody from my world even suspects it exsist. Whatever. This silly little planets name is Gaea.
There are a total of twelve guys in the Slayers. The leader is a smart-ass freak of a pyro named Dilandau. He's a head taller than I am. He has silver hair like moon light on water that was incredibly soft to the touch. His crimson eyes seemed to reflect the blood he has shed in the many wars of this strange planet and held a slightly maniacal gleam. He always wears red and black and seldom takes off his armor. (A/N: How she knows all this is beyond me.)
He's smart, cold and hard on his dragon slayers when on duty or training. He's very intimidating and he knows it. I am not bothered in the least by what is highly intimidating to everyone else. However, much to my irritation, I have pretend to care to keep up my façade. Otherwise, he joins them as much as his personality would allow when they were off duty, which was not very much.
The other's consisted of Chesta, Gumiel, Viole, Miguel, Koji, Gatti, Dallet, Shouta, Soki, Tomohiro, and Julian.
Chesta is very kind and somewhat shy. Gumiel, Viole and Miguel flirted almost as much as Lori did. Koji is not a flirt like the three stooges or shy like Chesta. He is quite pleasant to be around when one wants an intelligent conversation.
Gatti and Dallet have proven to be quite interesting. Their ideas are outrageous and quite often just plain stupid, but they always manage to survive. They have a sense of humor that I can appreciate. I don't know anything about the others worth taking note of. All of the Dragon Slayers were between the ages sixteen and eighteen.
I myself am only just barely nineteen, no matter how much older I appeared to be. The other member's of the Kage did not know that I was that young. I looked and acted like someone in his or her mid-twenties, except for when I acted when undercover. Like I was now, though I am not undercover per se. I could not have looked much older than sixteen. Moron's thought I was some innocent little twit. The wonders of acting.
Anyway, the citadel in which the slayers live, is called the Vione. It's a large building on top of a large rock that floated. Dungeons had been carved into the stones them selves by sorcery; something I had never believed in up till now.
On top of all that I have NO idea where my friends have gone or if they are even on Gaea. Silently, my thoughts turn even further inward as I contemplate when I first entered the waking world on this strange and annoying planet.
-Flashback-
Tsuara was lying on a soft billowy bed with red and black beddings. The room was dark and if you looked closely you could see the faint outline of a large desk with a few chairs in the middle of the room, what looked to be a vanity on the right wall and something resembling a closet in the corner opposite of the corner in which the bed was situated. Next to the vanity was what appeared to be a set of doors. Large heavy drapes looked to be situated across from another set of doors on Tsuara's right. A very small amount of light entered through the seam of the door.
(The room was actually pretty tastefully done when I saw it. Though it kinda looked likes Lori's room, minus the mess and modern commodities like a TV and computer.)
She moaned softly in her sleep and stirred slightly. A dark shadow sitting on the corner of the bed by the wall moved. Tsuara's eye's fluttered open slowly. at first, her vision was fuzzy and unfocused. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she sat up. Her eyes dilated as they adjusted to the dark and tried to take in what she could of her surroundings.
In actuality, she had been awake for the past fifteen minutes thinking. She had no idea where she was, no knowledge of how she had gotten there and could hear and feel the presence of a stranger. Had it been one of her friends she would have been able to tell from their aura. Unfortunately, it was not anyone she knew and the stranger was taking pains to make himself unobtrusive. He, for she could tell his gender from his smell not to mention the shadows, did not want her to know he was there.
However, the only people who even had a chance of hiding their presence were her friends. Not that they have ever exeeded, no matter how Lori and Karei tried. It irked them to no end. She had taught them to hide themselves from everybody including other shadow users. Regardless of their knowledge and ability she still had more power and loyalty from the shadows than they had. The only way for anyone to gain the shadows advantage over her was to become a shadow master, something she had not become. Not that she couldn't. The shadows were willing to accept her as their master, she just had no interest in it.
In any case, he didn't have a chance of hiding from her. She had pretended to sleep while assessing the situation. She finally decided that acting like an innocent sixteen year old was the best choice of action. Who would suspect?
(That decision has been the bane of my existence since it was made. I cannot jump from such a height with out suffering damage and on this strange planet I didn't want to take the risk.)
Anyway, she struggled to get out of the bed that was so soft it seemed like it was sucking her in. She finally managed to stumble from the bed. The only problem was that she stumbled face first. Sucking in her pride like any good actress, she let out quiet yelp as she watched the ground approach. She felt the bed move suddenly before a warm hand clasped around her wrist, jerking her back onto the bed. She fell back against a warm and firm body. For once she relinquished her control and let her body react naturally to the sudden heat and almost having her face bashed into the floor by letting out a shudder.
"W…who…o ar…r…re y…yo…ou?!" she stuttered, her voice raised a pitch on the 'you'.
(I mentally cringed at remembering how I sounded. I NEVER want to do that again.) (A/N: when ever you see something inside the signs it would be handy to remember it's Tsuara's thoughts as she remembers it. Sorta like a running commentary in her brain.)
"That's a question I should be asking you." replied a deep, cocky male voice. She could feel his voice vibrate from his chest when he talked. Demonstrating a lot of control while making look like she had none, she slowed the amount of blood going to her face so she became pale; even if it was unlikely that he could see her. She began to shake "uncontrollably". The man gave a fustrated and disgusted sigh and growl hybrd that she doubted anyone else could pull off. Tsuara forced tears into her eyes and pretended to be frightened.
"I can't believe Folken would leave such a weakling in my care. He knows I hate weak little brats." the voice snarled as he got off the bed. She could hear his soft padded footsteps, that no body else would have been able to hear, as she watched his outline walk to the desk. She heard a raspy click and a candle jumped to life on the desk.
(I had been amused at how easily he had taken my acting. I was also amused by the fact he thought I was weak. Any good fighter can sense the innate strength of another skilled warrior.)
"What do you want with me?" she asked in a frightened voice.
"I want you dead. Folken seems to think there's something to you." He turned around. "You're just a sniveling weakling." He finished.
(I was no longer amused. He was insulting me repeatedly and it was getting old in a hurry. I do not appreciate being called weak even if it makes the other look like an ass.)
At this point Tsuara had fought desperately with her self to not kill the bastard where he stood. During the internal battle her face had unknowingly become blank. When she came to her senses he was at the door speaking to someone, back turned to her.
His tone suggested he was ordering someone to do something. For her this was a good thing because she had momentarily lost control of her facial expression as it relaxed to its normal emotionless mask. She quickly schooled her features to the innocent high school girl look as he turned around. He stared at her as if assessing her for something.
"What?" she asked defensively. Her voice still shook as if she was trying to hold back her "fear."
"Folken wants to see you. Let's go weakling." He ordered roughly. He pulled on her arm harshly making her stumble. The only thing that prevented her from falling face first was the iron grip on her arm. It still took a minute for her to regain her balance. Not that the bastard waited. The grip was tight and she guessed that had she really been a schoolgirl that it might have hurt.
(I resist the urge to growl. I really wanted to beat the shit out of him. I am NOT weak in any aspect of the word.)
She winced as her eyes began to water. The light change was what really caused the watering in her eyes. She had long ago learned how to control such automated reactions but let her control go for the time being.
The place was ornately archaic. The building itself appeared to be a stone fortress.
She could now see clearly enough to assess the man, or boy rather, in front of her. He wore black pants of a material she did not recognize. His shirt was a loose blood red satin that clung to his skin and whispered with his heavy movements. At some point in time he had slipped on a pair of boots that clicked sharply on the flag stone floor. He had silver hair that was longer than a normal boy's but did not go past the nape of his neck.
She had not been able to get a good look at him in the darkness of his room without going into the shadows. If she had gone into the shadows she would've been invisible to him and she did not want to see his reaction to that right now. Right now she needed information. Information this boy would probably not provide if she suddenly disappeared.
Many of the people they passed were dressed somewhat like a medieval servant or wore armor with a sword adorning their hip. Many glanced or stared. Very few ignored them.
(It was like walking on to a movie set. I was slightly confused at the time and wanted information and facts. I hate being in situations where I don't know anything.)
"You're hurting me." She complained softly trying to loosen his grip. When he did not respond, she tried to stop. His only response to that was to tighten his grip and slightly speed up the already swift pace to the point of practically dragging her. Her choice was to be dragged or keep up by almost jogging. Stumbling behind him, she decided that being dragged would not be terribly fun. Turning sharply they came to a dead-end with double doors to the right. He flung open the door and dragged her in. He threw her forward making her stumble and fall to her hands and knees.
"That hurt!" she protested standing and dusting herself off. She had sensed the presence of another person in the room before he had even opened the door, but pretended not to notice.
"Dilandau, you may go." Said a deep masculine voice from behind her, making her jump. She whirled around and gasped. Speeding up her heart rate turned her face a pretty shade of scarlet while it also assumed a surprised and embarrassed expression.
"My pleasure. You should just kill the bitch." Dilandau, as she just learned, suggested before he left.
She never took her eyes of the man in front of her, staring. The room was a large library with books scattered everywhere. On the main floor of which she stood was a table cluttered with many different things. On one side were two metal chairs. On the other side of the table sat a man in a high backed cushioned armchair. She could tell even from his sitting position that he was quite a bit taller than Dilandau.
She could tell the man was extremely intelligent and quick. She could also tell that he had power in the polotics of this world. In addition she could tell he was a sorcerer. It was her first encounter with one, but she recognised it in his aura almost immediately. She didn't know how she knew it, especially becuase it was the first time she had seen and she didn't believe in magic. She jsut saw it and knew. He could be big trouble if she wasn't careful.
(I had almost grinned than. Some one was actually able to give orders that the asshole followed. I choose to ignore the bitch comment. I had been called worse and at least he wasn't calling my weak any more.)
"Have a seat." He offered calmly.
He wore a black cloak that wrapped tightly around his upper body but billowed around his legs. He had a bluish white hair that was a different shade of silver than Dilandau's and was spiked oddly. His eyes were a dead brown with a teardrop tattoo under his right eye. His skin was strangely pale for a man. She carefully took the seat on the left.
"I am Folken Strategos. You may call me Folken." He said pleasantly.
(I don't know what the hell was up with that guys sense of style. Maybe it was laundry day and he was cold. His name was weird to.)
"I'm Tsuara. Tsuara Kurai. Where am I?" she asked quietly.
"You are in the flying fortress known as the Vione, owned by Zaibach. I found you in the woods out cold and took you here with me." He explained.
"Were there any other's? There would have been three females and a male." She inquired eagerly, a bit of pleading desperation seeping into her voice.
"You were the only one. There was no sign of others. What were you doing out there?" he responded. Tsuara hesitated. She really hadn't thought of this. It was like she had gone back in time or to a different dimension.
"I'm a dancer, you see. And I was traveling with my companions. We were attacked and so we ran. I tripped and blacked out. How long was I out?" she asked after explaining. Her lie would be understood almost any where and, hopefully, not be suspicious.
"I found you about a day ago." He answered. She forced her self to blush again.
"Oh dear. I've never slept so long. That's probably why I feel kinda fuzzy." She said sounding embarrassed. Damn! She was beginning to fool herself. He nodded.
(I had been genuinely surprised. I never slept more than twelve hours. Survival instinct.)
"I would like to know what this is." Folken said. He lifted up his hand from underneath his cloak. A hand, that held her gun. Tsuara for the first time she in years let her true emotion show. This consisted of happiness, surprise and adoration for the object.
"It was my father's. A family heirloom if you will. He gave it to me in a note he sent before he was murdered at work." She replied speaking fondly. "It's said to have magical properties that protect the people of my blood line." She finished.
This was the actual truth. The others thought it was custom made. They had no idea that is was actually an ancient relic that had been passed down through her family since before Chirst's birth. The part about only one man being able to make its bullets was absolutely true. The man was an old time family friend, REALLY old friend; actually it was technically the bloodlines that connected them as family friends.
His name was Termac. The friendship wasn't forced; the two families just always seemed to get along like milk goes with cookies or a sword and sheath. It was also passed down that one of her ancestors had received this gun from Termac's ancestor who had a powerful spell placed on it by a great sorcereress. (A/N: I'm getting confused. ) Whatever the spell did was long forgotten.
The gun was her only truly cherished possession. Remembering about the ammo suddenly, she secretly felt for where she kept it. She would have let out a sigh, discovering it still there along with the other weapons, if she had been anyone else.
"Could I have it back?" she requested.
(It was kinda weird. They had found my gun but not my ammo. Good thing I left the safety on.)
"I've never seen anything like it." He said leaning forward and handing it to her. She cradled it with such deep care one was inclined to think it was the most sacred object in the world that could be broken with the slightest jolt.
(I snort at this point. I'd be surprised if he had.)
"It's one of kind." She said wistfully. It was the truth.
"Where do you come from?" he asked. Uh-oh. She didn't know any countries here. She didn't even know if it was earth.
"I don't really know for sure. I stayed with my father's friend who traveled a lot. I hardly ever saw my father. He was always away. I never asked cause I've never cared enough to really think about it, I guess." She answered quickly trying to be vague and plausible.
"Where was your mother?" he asked.
(Did the questioning ever end? He had seriously begun wearing on my nerves at that point.)
"She died giving birth to my brother who was born only three years after myself." She explained eyes shinning with unshed tears. This part was actually the truth and not a half-truth like everything else.
(At that point memories of my past surfaced. I was never really bothered by the memories. I had no special connection to my parents and I know my brother is safe.)
Tsuara had left her brother with a family she had watched while growing up. They were a nice couple with a son her own age. The couple was very happy and did a lot as a family.
Her own father was very much as she had described. He was home only once or twice a year if that. And he never stayed more than a day. Her mother was very beautiful but very shallow. She stayed in her room most of the time and mourned when Tsuara's father was not around. Tsuara's father was the only thing her mother had cared about. She had paid close to no attention to her daughter.
"I never really knew her." Tsuara said.
"I extend our hospitality to you. I may not be able to send out my forces to look for your friends but I will help in what ways I can." He offered. Tsuara pretended to be relieved and sighed.
"Thank you very much!" she said in fake happiness, smiling broadly. He inclined his head.
(Smiling for two seconds like that and my face muscles had already begun to hurt.)
"Dilandau will see to the arrangements. This is his ship even if I'm higher up." Folken said as an after thought.
-Present-
-General POV-
After that she had gotten the room next to Dilandau's and was required to come to practices and help the slayers. She did things such as bandaging accidental wounds to getting them water. It was quite humiliating. Koji told her that the number of "accidental wounds" had gone up since she had come, but so had thier performance level. The two both thought it was juvenile. Both thought it was funny. Right now she was sitting alone at the bar while the slayers were playing a card game or just hanging around somewhere.
She hated alcohol with a passion. So she had just ordered water. The slayers had urged her to get alcohol before they dispersed when meeting with little success. She sipped the water delicately and contemplated ways in which she could escape and search for her friends or manipulate others into searching. Either way was fine with her. She would find them. Although Folken had "extended" their "hospitality', she was more of a prisoner than a guest. They probably wouldn't have let her leave anyway. Not that they could make her stay if she wanted to leave.
They thought she didn't know about the man that had been following her since the Vione to keep an eye on her. Although she had to admit, no matter how grudgingly, that the man was good.
A sudden commotion in the back of the room drew her attention, along with all the other patrons of the backwater bar, to the back of the room. Most turned away recognizing someone or something and dismissing it as normal. The dragon slayers looked a moment longer than returned to what they were doing.
Tsuara watched as voices were raised louder and louder, as it was the only thing interesting going on. One voice was an aggravated sounding female and the other was a male voice sounding as if he was trying to placate a lion. The male was big and burly, standing in such a way that he was blocking her view of the female.
"You shouldn't get involved. You should just leave them." A sweet voice commented behind her. She turned to look at the blond dragon slayer.
"Don't worry I won't." she agreed innocently turning back to the fight tilting her head curiously. Why ruin the fun? It had nothing to do with her anyway.
She watched them for another half a minute before a resounding slap of skin was heard. The man's head jerked to the side and the other five at his table stood. She saw Chesta wince out of the corner of her eye. Chesta made a pathetic attempt at conversation to draw her attention away. This attempt was immediately recognized and squashed by Tsuara.
The man moved and if she was any one else her eyes would be falling out of her head in surprise. The man who she had assumed a pervert had been arguing with a waitress. The waitress was in no way normal. The waitress was non other than…
GAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARAGAARA
Author: Don't you hate me. You can probably guess who it is though. I'm not really very good at Cliffhangers.
Kurai: You know I think your writing has a very distinct style.
Author: Really! You think so?
Tsuara: You know what I think Kurai is right. I can only think of one word to describe it.
Kurai & Tsuara: Horrible!