Dragonball – Tale 521 "Nothing like this…"

Heron lay in the blue grass of a great big meadow surrounded by trees. This was only a few hundred yards from his home, but it could not be seen in the least. The Suns had lined up in such a way that it was nearly dark, and the stars were somewhat visible. The air was warm and sweet, as it often was in the region. Even at night, it was very warm so that one could be barefoot without trouble at all, with the soft soil beneath your feet.

The young Namek'jin had fallen asleep quite peacefully, and lay in such an encompassing peace…his entire life had been like this. For 10 years, living with his brothers and Papa without ever seeing another Namek'jin ever. It was a perfect existence considering the condition the world was in…

But something was tickling the young ones nose…and slowly his eyelids slowly opened up. He stood up languidly and looked over in the direction of his home. It was decorated with an orange glow and the billowing of smoke.

"Wh-what's happening! Papa!" Heron's small feet pounded against the grass as he ran to the meadow edge. His sheltered little mind could not comprehend what may be happening, but his intelligence provided proper alarm. He entered the trees and dashed faster than he ever knew he could. Soon, bright flames came into sight in the trees.

"Ahh!" he stopped suddenly as the Hydrangeas above him appeared to be in flames. He hesitated for a moment as sweat beat down his face. Finally, he decided to take the risk. He dashed through the portion of the woods covered by fire and soon came out behind his house. It was cracked apart and crumbled into itself.

Heron wanted to scream, but somehow felt a force tell him not to. He jumped onto the rubble and began shuffling it around. He found the blue scroll, which somehow held itself together. It was half his body length and massive to his hands, but he picked it up with both arms and held it to him. He climbed higher and saw Papa and 2 strange figures standing out in the field.

"P-papa?" he whimpered. The figures were huge…they seemed kind of Namek'jin looking…yet somehow different. He could feel evil emitting from their aura's…

"Rrraahhh!" Papa threw himself forward and swung his arm into the shorter of the two figures. It did not budge from the blow and slowly Papa removed his arm, shivering in fear.

Heron then noticed…two small figures lying near the water. He could tell…they were not alive.

"N…no…NO!" Heron screamed out from his heart. His two brothers, whom he loved, with all his heart, were crumbled…destroyed…dead.

Papa swung his head around, "Heron! Run!" but before he could take another step, and arm stabbed through his chest, throwing blood and organs out onto the soil. And before another moment passed, it withdrew. Papa fell into the mess of his own insides, and felt little more.

But Heron knew better than to disobey. Before he even saw Papa fall forward, he had turned around and dashed into the flaming forest once again. He hugged the blue scroll and seemed to pass through the thickened flames totally unscathed.

But now he could feel eyes on him, and heeding an intuition unknown, he jumped and rolled to the right, as the ground where he was exploded. His head thumped against the trunk of a large tree. He wasted no time and scrambled around it, leaping into a football field length stretch of thick shrubbery, full of thorns and prickling objects. His drive to live made his body numb to this pain and he crawled through it, even managing to protect the scroll yet.

Above him, one of the figures from before raised a hand, which took on a vibrant white glow. As it swung its arm, Heron felt his arms give out and he fell into a well-disguised hole. As the shrubbery above him burst into flames, he was about 20 feet below the surface, unconscious.

"Hnn…" Heron stirred in the darkness, and came to from his nightmare riddled sleep. He found the scroll somehow still in good condition lying next to him. The young Namek'jin stood up and picked it up, looking up to the now slightly lighter sky through the hole far above him. Taking a foothold, he somehow managed to pull himself out and into the charred remains of what was his hiding place before.

He wasted no time in running back to his destroyed home. The flaming forest had dried out and wasn't too horribly damaged as he jumped over branches and fallen trees. His house looked no different as he passed by, dropping the Scroll next to it. The young Namek'jin finally came to his fallen father…

"N-no…" his eyes welled up with tears as he turned Papas head, looking into the cold, dead face. "It wasn't…it wasn't supposed to be like this…nothing like this…"

And he lay over his father and wept. He wept for his life, his family, everything he ever known and loved and spent time with was gone. He cried for a long time.

But even when his crying stopped, his heart would not. His heart would not stop crying. The tears of his soul did not stop flowing, and it was to be that way evermore.

Heron pulled his father's remains to the waters edge and lined him up by his burnt beyond recognition sons. He kneeled and folded his hands in front of him, speaking a short prayer. After which, he pushed the bodies into the water.

He stood and watched them float out and eventually sink into the water. Even after they were beyond sight, he stared at where he had last saw them and fought the tears of his soul.

And when he was ready, Heron walked through the torn up field of Hydrangeas and picked up the blue scroll again, and started walking into the woods once more.

He walked for days upon days, looking for nothing in particular and finding nothing in particular. Walking under the suns, walking across grass and rocks and hills, through forests, through hills, through the trials of his own mind.

And never did his mind forget the scroll he carried with him. The unstudied ancient arts of the Legendary Super Saiya'jin. His heart felt as though this was a blessing given to him, the means to settle the vengeance he could never forget. The forgiveness he would never allow himself for being too weak to stop them, and for not being there to die with them. Suicide rattled through his mind, and hate beyond what he ever knew. An existence once filled with love feeling nothing but hate. And the face of his Papa, lying the dirt.

It was when Heron came across a strange hole in the side of a large hill did his feet meet rest.

"Don't worry Papa…Lingote…Caracol …I will come to you with good news…"

Next: A journey's beginning.