My Immortal
By: Cabalistic
Disclaimer: ...moving along...
Chapter Two Impossible Promises
"The nerve of that man!" A woman screamed, slamming her fist into the table. The fragile wooden table broke on contact. She bared her teeth like a hissing cat as she snarled, "How dare he trifle with the Orgathans!" Her black hair pinned up in a messy bun rocked like banners and her curved eyebrows narrowed her black eyes.
"Chi Chi…" Juu replied in the tone of voice that said You're overreacting… Her short blond hair put her in contrast to the other woman. She curled her blond hair back behind her ear, growing frustrated as it fell back in place. Chi Chi had been fussing and fuming for hours, Juu would have thought that she would have gotten over it by now. If she didn't stop soon, she would probably blow up everything in Orga with her spells.
"And how could she have gotten away!" Chi Chi demanded, her voice not exactly directed at anyone. "You've seen her run, no one in Orga could catch up to her speed! How does a lumbering, stupid, fucking saiyan catch up to an agile Orgathan!"
Juu wanted answers as badly as her childhood friend but now that Chi Chi, the good little girl who never uttered a curse word since the day she saw light was cursing, Chi Chi probably went a little too far. "How fast can you run if you were de-spelled?" Juu shot back at her. "How fast can you run while carrying the Fruit of Interdit? How far can you run when a saiyan, not just any saiyan but the prince of saiyans is after you on his black stallion?" Her blue eyes narrowed angrily at her friend, almost challenging her for the answer.
Chi Chi sighed finally and gave, sinking to the ground and covering her face. She moaned, "She's impossible to beat. She's the strongest sorceress that anyone has ever known." She looked up and said in a strangled voice, "You know that."
Juu shook her head at her friend's foolishness. "He is stronger than you can imagine, Chi." She licked her lips, her eyes frozen with a memory, locked in a world far away. "No one can beat him."
She looked out the window with a heavy sigh. "There was no body at the scene, Chi Chi. There is still a possible chance that she is alive." Her voice sounded like a cross between hope and fear.
Chi Chi laughed and said bitterly, "Even a body can be hidden, Juu. Hidden or burned."
The endless roar coming from his mouth seemed to echo all around the palace. He clenched his fist, unclenched it then clenched it again, looking like a pulsing heart. He breathed in and narrowed his eyes and scowled angrily as he spat, "She did not eat it!" To ease his frustration, he turned to the wall and slammed his fist into it—full force. The entire ceiling shuddered and gave a sickening groan.
His ally Kakarot, eyed it anxiously and said in a calm voice to him, "It's not the time to panic, Vegeta…" He ran his fingers through his wind-blown hair nervously; it was hard to calm saiyans down, much less the prince of saiyans.
The prince of saiyans snapped at him, "How dare you say 'It's not the time to panic'! Of course it's the time to panic you fool! If the bitch ate it, how am I supposed to get to it?" He sucked in a deep breath and continued raging, "Do you expect me to tear into her stomach and find it whole? Wait a fucking millennia for the next one to grow?" He seethed in the younger man's face, "I can't retrieve it once she ate the damned thing!" Kakarot winced at the prince's overuse of cursing but after a few years of it, he'd have to get used to it—someday.
"The Legend says that she gives immortality away not obtain it." Kakarot said, trying to find a solution to the problem. Kakarot wasn't the brightest guy but he had the ability to look into the bright side of things, unlike most saiyans, which was probably why Vegeta allowed—er tolerated the other saiyan.
"That's the stupidest thing I ever—" Vegeta cut himself off thinking. Then he smirked, darkly with the next thought. Kakarot smiled his boyish grin and opened his mouth to speak when the prince cut him off. "Don't even say 'I told you so'." The prince snapped at him in annoyance.
His heart pounded in his head as he thought, striding out of the hallway. It would be no hard work to persuade the Orgathan, all he had to do was find some innocent young child and threaten their lives and then immortality would be all his for the taking.
The thought fueled him as he smirked again.
She had been awake for the longest time.
She was afraid too, of what she had done. She felt the power within her, pulsing like a hidden switch, waiting for someone to come and hit it, transforming her into a monster. She knew that more than anyone else and that still didn't keep her from eating it. She could feel the presence of the new power moving inside of her as though it were a beast that had taken hold of her body. Every time she moved, she felt the presence move along with her, mimicking her movements like a second shadow.
I'm a damned fool, She thought bitterly to herself. She pulled against the chains in an effort to shake them off with no success. "Gigara," she whispered into the darkness. A spark shot from her hands and sizzled instantly, her energy stolen from her. Damn saiyans and their damn force fields, she thought angrily as she tried to give an effort to stand.
Her legs shook and gave way as she sat on the ground again, her ankles chaffed by the heavier iron bindings. She grew more frustrated yet more afraid. Her fear had settled into her throat like a hidden monster, ready to pounce and take her, alive or dead.
Trembling, she gathered herself into a tight ball, curling into the farthest corner of the cage. I will not cry, she told herself. Despite this, a tear landed on the hard ground. She gritted her teeth. I will not cry!
Sadness collected inside of her like angry thoughts, like fireflies swarming to her, possessing her. She trembled, but no more tears fell.
Somewhere in the darkness, a door creaked and opened. She heard iron scraping against the floor, hinges protesting as it pushed open. She squinted, another attempt to see through the darkness, but saw nothing there. Footsteps approached in her direction, making her stiffen and cringe, partially in fear. She felt a knot form in her throat. She felt the person crouch down to her level and a misty, cool breath on her face.
She closed her eyes, her breath quickening. Her fear made her heart pound and the floor spin beneath her.
It is all the better, she decided, that I cannot see him. The chilling silence scared her though, making her wonder what was he thinking, what was he doing, what was he seeing through those black eyes of his?
The silence stretched one, seemingly for hours. Finally, she said in a strangled voice, "Please say something."
There was a hesitant silence. Then a low, demanding voice. "Do you know how to grant immortality?"
Biting her lower lip, she didn't answer for a while. Obviously, the question itself would have to come up sometime but somehow she wasn't ready to answer. Finally, she answered in a calm voice; "I have no answers. I am as equally confused as you are."
She felt him stiffen in the darkness. Somehow, his presence was somewhat alarming. "Is that a no then?" She heard his voice rise with anger.
She didn't answer that time, letting silence be the answer itself. He stirred and raised his hand above his head, vibrant, small scarlet ball of chi glowing.
She caught the sight of his face. In the darkness, the shadows framed his face, showing the muscles even in his cheekbones, and made his eyes darken with anger—and part frustration. His eyes were livid, energized with his anger, flashing with electrifying power. His lips formed a stern line underneath his perfect, aristocratic nose. Fear trembled in her, like a second being inside of her, but she did not stir.
"Force is not the answer to everything, Prince Vegeta. It won't get you what you want." Her eyes narrowed while saying his name. Even now, his name felt thick on her tongue, like a slimy frog sitting in her throat.
"Your proverbs astound me," he said, mockingly. His tone did not change, but the chi flame burned out, and the darkness claimed her sight once more. His voice sounded through the darkness, as though he were adding at second thought, "I already know you are terrified at the thought of hell, Princess Bulma," he said, smirking while saying her name. Somehow, her name slipped easily and freely past his lips, like fluid running water.
She changed the subject; conversations of her trip to the underworld were never pleasant. "The Fruit of Interdit grows every millennia, dear prince. Killing me would never grant you immortality because it is highly unlikely that you'd live to be that long, since you are so old now." She stifled her laughter at her silent joke.
Vegeta scoffed angrily. "I lived 10,220 sunsets, princess." (That's 28 years) He bent over and said, "Obviously for one so wise as you, you have lived over a millennia, no?"
She pulled herself away, wishing to melt through the wall and into the shadows. She felt his skin, only a small length away from her arms. It felt like a small breath, a whisper almost touching her skin. "I have lived 9,490 sunrises," she replied in a small voice. (26 years.)
"Vegetasei never had any prisoners as young as you." His tone was mocking, but his voice was dangerous.
"No, but you have had visitors younger than me," she responded coolly, her voice silently giving him a hint.
He shifted, as if to get in a more comfortable position, giving her the idea that he would never leave. "Tell me," he said his voice somewhat softer. "What does the Fruit of Interdit do?"
She laughed suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence and echoing around the chambers. "You are after something you do not know?"
"It was a legend. I had only heard of it." In a more quiet voice more directed to him than her, he added, "I was after something else."
Silence followed that answer. Her instincts told her that if she asked what, she would only get sharpness in response. Finally he spoke, softly, his lips almost touching her ear. She stiffened at the close contact.
"I know what you want. I can grant it, f or a price."
Bulma laughed coldly in response, twisting away from him. "Years ago, perhaps, that is what I had wanted. Now no one, not even you, can grant me that wish." She squeezed her eyes shut, and concentrated, feeling that same little breath of power flow through her. "And there is no price for immortality."
He chuckled. "You misunderstood me. I meant I would spare you your life for the immortality that you can give me."
"You astound me, Prince Vegeta. For your intellect now fails you. When you kill the wielder of the fruit, it takes another millennia for it to grow." Her voice became mocking and sarcastic. "Young as you are, youthful prince, I doubt you can wait two millennia for it to grow."
Vegeta didn't respond to her comment. "Then this fruit, if it takes so long to grow, what if one just eats it without knowing?"
Bulma, now hearing the genuine curiosity in his voice, sighed and replied, "I will say this as simply as I would a child. The fruit of Interdit doesn't just grow in any natural forest to the point where you can just pluck it off a vine and claim the immortality. There is only one plant that grows the fruit and it is located within the sacred temple. Only one fruit grows from each plant, unfortunately there is only one plant in existence." She bit her lip and added slowly, "We guard the fruit well for the last giver we had given it to used it for evil."
"What else to use it for," Vegeta muttered under his breath then said quickly before she could say anything, "What ever happened to him?"
Bulma laughed a sudden cruel laugh. "He was locked away in the Vault of Time, forever regretting to receive the gift of immortality. Now with no substance to eat and no air to breathe, he suffers daily for his crime for he cannot die physically but is in what we call 'the state of dying'." She laughed to herself again.
Vegeta scoffed. "You Orgathans refer to yourselves as the temple guardians and say that you protect what is right and pure but your laughter at the imprisonment of this man seems…unseemly."
Bulma smiled, knowing that even if he could see her face in the darkness he would never understand. "Forgive me. This man's fate was inflicted upon himself. He misused his power and attempted to take over the lands. He murdered his only daughter, one of our Founders."
"What is the Fruit used for, if not for power?"
"A simple answer really—to obtain the balance of good and evil. Every time or so, the scale of evil outweighs the good. If it were necessary, we would give the immortality gift to a pure one and the pure one will even the balance. Except," her voice became hesitant, "the wielder of the fruit must spill their blood for the gift of immortality must never be given more than once. The pure one would join the Counsel and would be forevermore tied to the laws."
"Why did his daughter give immortality to the man?"
His questions seemed forever, but they were genuine in truth. "She was the first priestess, our founder of Orga. But even now we don't know what her true name is." She paused and continued, knowing Vegeta's next question, "Names contain power, knowing her name would give us power over her. Out of respect for the dead, our Elders have erased her name from the Archives."
"Wait," Vegeta interrupted, "do the elders know her name? Even if they did, they would have to be—"
"Patience," she said, smiling gently. His intense curiosity betrayed the side of him that she had known. "You are overflowing with questions that can only be answered with time. The Elders do know her name. After all, the priestess was keen with knowledge. It was upon her task that she gave immortality to one of her followers so that he—"
Vegeta interrupted sharply again, "He! I thought all of you blasted priestesses were all female."
Bulma frowned and said overriding his comment, "He had to carry down her knowledge to the rest of the Orgathans and therefore she granted him immortality."
Vegeta, shocked, said, "You mean…she—he is alive!"
She chuckled and said, "Of course. His magik is great and if he wanted to, he could be listening to this very conversation." In her mind, she could see his bewildered eyes in the darkness, shifting from each direction, searching for the follower.
"Is he aged?"
Bulma shifted. "He is granted with eternal youth and strength so often he fights alongside us in battle. Its just that foreigners like our enemies do not know it."
Vegeta was quiet. She felt him trembling in excitement. "You said that the priestess was your founder. Does that mean she found magik as well?"
Bulma, amused by his interest, replied, "Yes. She had tapped into the secrets of magik and learned of the true meaning of power. She was wizened with this magik and had a small group of followers. It is written in the Scroll of Ages. Of all the priestesses we have had, she has been our strongest." She took a small breath and said, "She is the creator of the Fruit if Interdit."
Vegeta drew in a sharp breath. "How does one make a fruit?" He asked, his voice flat with disbelief.
Bulma almost smiled then drew a quick frown on her face. "It is woven together by magik. It takes an enormous source of power. There are some who have tried and failed miserably."
"Can you see the future with your power?"
Bulma drew a sharp breath and said harshly, "That is forbidden!"
Her voice echoed through the entire chamber. Vegeta was silent for once. It took Bulma a few moments to collect herself. "Forgive me…I have not spoken these things to anyone before." She paused, drawing in another small, unsteady breath and continued, "The future is written in stone. No matter what we do, we cannot change the future. For instance, a man saw his future was to kill his firstborn. He took his own life. Through this way, his firstborn would die anyway because his firstborn was never born. In other words, the future is set in stone, no matter what you do, you cannot change it." She dipped her head, trying to see through the darkness, into his eyes. "So even if we know the future, there is not much we can do to change it. The Elders decided it was better if we did not know the future and mourn over it rather than know the future and cry consistently."
Vegeta shifted uneasily in the silence, struggling to understand this new information she had given him. "So this…priestess…why did she give immortality to her father?"
Bulma sighed. "Why? It is a mystery. Often we think that her father threatened her son, therefore she gave him immortality to save her son, but in this failed for her son died inevitably."
Vegeta scoffed. "Can't you just ask the immortal follower?"
Bulma grimly smiled. "It is a delicate subject around him. He refuses to speak of the past. Her father went for world conquest and earned it, but his tyranny came to a close when his daughter gave immortality to her follower, thus giving them the ultimate advantage. Neither of them could die, however, so it wasn't much of a victory, nor a loss."
It was silent now, so silent she could hear t he quietness ringing in her ears. For a minute, she almost forgot he was there, until his voice came low and into the silence. "Do you remember our past?"
She bit her lower lip. Her heart flitted nervously inside her chest, as though frantically trying to get into the open. "I have never forgotten," she responded.
Nine years ago…
"Vegeta! Careful! You'll hurt yourself!" Bulma yelled, almost doubling over in laughter in tears.
Vegeta stood, tall and straight against the snarling winds, balancing perfectly on top of the roof. He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered down to her. "Can you hear me!"
Bulma's feet flew out from under her, as she screamed with laughter. She lay sprawled on the ground for several minutes, laughing as she looked up at the sight of Vegeta.
On the Temple, among many of their sacred statues was he statue of Valid, the powerful, his eyes looking up at the sun and his stiff stance in a perfect salute towards the western sunset, his lips in a stern line. Beside the statue, Vegeta stood in the same mocking stance, his trembling mouth of laughter fitted into a straight line.
"Tell me, Lady Bulma, what do I look like?"
Giggling, she cupped her pale hands over her mouth and shouted, "Vegeta, you fool! Get down before someone sees you!"
He relaxed his stance and crouched down to yell back at her. "Isn't that what we wanted!"
Dishonoring, as it was, disrespectful, as it was, Bulma, the princess of Orga, couldn't stop smiling at the perfect creature above her. He jumped down and landed like a cat on its toes on the ground, perfectly graceful and perfectly at ease. He grinned at her. "So, tell me, Lady Bulma, what is it like to be betrothed to a fool?"
Bulma giggled, pressing her slender fingers over her mouth. "Vegeta, you're impossible."
He smiled and took her hand in his, smoothing out her fingers in his rough, warrior hands. His gaze was soft and tender, gently burning her from inside out. Even though a princess was always supposed to be the picture of perfection and poise, she could never stop smiling around Vegeta.
Her smile faded when reality came back to her. She clutched his arm, trembling at the fear of never seeing him again. "What if I never see you again, Vegeta?" She whispered.
Vegeta's smile faded and it brought pangs to her heart. He averted his gaze to the ground and sighed. He took her arm and said in a low voice, "Walk with me, Bulma."
She walked with him and for a while, he was silent, his eyes on the ground, never looking at the garden or the sweet white flowers that Bulma often brushed her hand over to feel their velvety softness. Often she wondered what he was thinking about. Was it the icejins to come and take him away? Or was it the fact that he may never see her again? Or was he thinking about his sword, how it would lay in his hand, how it would become the only object for defense in the north.
"Bulma," he said softly. "We have talked about this before."
"But they're monsters!" She said pleadingly. "You'll die! They'll kill you!"
She could tell that by the way he looked at her, that he felt her pain tenfold inside of him. "Bulma…" he said slowly, as though tasting her name on his lips, as though whispering the sound of it so he would never forget. "I love you. And every minute that I'm fighting for survival in the north, I'll think of you always. I'm going not for my sake, not for Vegetasei's sake and not for Orga's sake but for your own." He clasped her hands in his, his eyes nearly brimming over in emotion in the setting sun. His gaze softened. "What scares me is that the fact that while I'm gone that you might be taken away by another man."
Bulma looked at him, annoyed. " What do you take me for? A prostitute!"
Vegeta didn't laugh. "Promise me," he said in a low voice. "Promise me your heart will belong to me always."
His eyes wove a complicated spell before her, the way his dark eyes bore into her sapphire, the way she felt his heart spill out with his words. Her heart swelled with the pain that she felt radiating from him. She looked up at him and said softly, "Then promise me you'll never change and that you'll always be the Vegeta I see now."
Vegeta sucked a breath in through his teeth, but his gaze never left Bulma's. His voice was low and truthful.
"I promise, Lady Bulma."
"I promise too, Vegeta."
They hugged then, silently but surely. Not in the way that declared their love, but in a way that showed how truthful they were intending to keep the promise that was impossible.
Bulma stared hard through the darkness, trying to find Vegeta's face somewhere in the shroud of the shadows, trying to find something that resembled who he was nine years ago. "Was it hard…?" She mused out loud, to get to a point. "Training with the Icejins?"
"They were murderous." He responded, closing the subject by the tone of his voice. She heard his voice then, as though straining to remember. "When I trained with them, everything of my past was closed off from my mind and set completely on survival. Everything there was so merciless and…cold." She heard him shake his head furiously as though ridding himself of the thoughts. "Now when I turn to my memories, I only get fuzzy images of vague people and voices, but the clearest of all…" he paused. "Was yours."
Bulma didn't respond. But surely, she felt tears sting her eyes, in sadness that he could not keep his promise.
"It used to be…" she said softly, "that Orga and Vegetasei fought side by side. After you returned…as a different person…the relationship tore and the countries became bitter enemies. It was what the Icejin planned."
Vegeta sighed. Then she heard him stand and shuffle towards the door. She heard his feet scrape against the ground as he turned around. "I wish I could be the person I used to be. Everyone liked him so much more than they do now…" His voice faded in and out. "I only wish I could remember who he was." Truly through the darkness, she heard the strangled frustration in his voice, mixed with the agony of his pain.
Bulma offered him nothing, no words of comfort or any words of sympathy, the same way he did to her the three years ago when he had returned, anew as a different person, cold as a lover.
She heard him walk away. She heard the door open.
What she didn't hear was the door close.
A/N: Ack, another rewrite up. Sorry guys, I'll get the next chapter up...soon. .
Until then, stick with the cliffie!
Muahahahhhahahhahaaa.
Review and tell me what you think! (this chappie took longer than it looks)