Dust in the Wind
Chapter 1
Footsteps
The breath of morning draws its curtain on a new day, the surrounding landscape laid still, a path of unnatural destruction framing a small, but silent figure.
Dark eyes open to an endless expanse of blue, lashes pressing against a smooth, youthful face. The young boy realizes he's alone, he's disoriented but that's okay. It's only temporary after all.
He yawns as he stretches his arms, staring straight up, the morning light of the sun catching the cloudless sky and warming the land. The vast canvas reminds him of something, something pure, something… fleeting. It's his timeless companion, one he never tires of seeing.
He can never place it, the incessant scratching at the back of his brain irks him as it always does. It claws at the depths of his memories but never once yields its secrets. It's a pleasant feeling, one that blankets him in relief and so he offers a smile to no one in particular.
Flat on his back, the teenager knows he's been sprawled out, for how long not even he knows. Dark, choppy hair splays out, mixed with the mud and sand of yet another alien world. He's stopped counting how many there's been; he's only interested in remembering the goal and related experiences of his journey.
His dark scuffed armor and covered clothing has fared no better. It stretches over his form hiding every inch of skin up to his neck. He prefers it that way. It protects him out here in the unknown.
A long brown and furry tail lays flopped out next to his side, twitching as he slowly regains his sense of self.
He grasps at the dirt crunching between gloved fingers, realizing they're coated in crusted and dried blood. The foul red of the blood contrasts sharply against the purity of the blue of the sky.
Just what was he…
Oh right.
It must have been another one of those nights. The ones he can never remember. They happen from time to time, the feeling of anger that triggers and washes over him. Like a gust of wind, he's swept away in the bliss of obscurity for hours on end only for it to escape his grasp just as quickly.
But he's indifferent to these experiences. It's just the way things are. They're a part of who he is, what he was born to be. Maybe when he's older he'll understand it more. That it'll become clearer with more experience.
The boy shifts, rolling onto his side at first and then to a sitting position. He grasps more of the dirt as he does so, pulling free loose strands of grass still wet from a night's rain.
He takes in the rest of his surroundings, noting he's most definitely alone amongst sprawling downed trees and other greenery. Was there an attack here?
It turns out this blue world is just another in a long line of discoveries, much to his personal excitement. The universe is a vast place, one that offers relics and treasures untold. And with treasures often comes danger in all shapes and sizes.
He knows this deeply because he's been introduced to many a place, people – things he could never dream about existing. But he's lived it and if he's being honest, danger aside, he loves it. He doesn't know why but he's always been keen on absorbing knowledge from a young age. It's his passion, and really, his place of quiet comfort.
The sound of footsteps from a ways away stir him from his thoughts. He sighs as the dirt slips through his fingers, stilling his frame because he knows who it is. He's been with the man for around ten years now. The teenager no longer remembers the minute details and they're never spoken about either. He just knows what's expected of his behavior.
It's the reason he's even here to begin with, that's the truth. His benefactor, his guardian. His companion? Maybe. Parent? Well, no… but he's well off all the same. He's not known anyone else.
The crunching of gravel persists, stones and pebbles push around by falling boots.
A tall dark-skinned man looms over the wreckage of the forest, his form shrouded in a flowing cap of white skirting the ground. The man's own tail can be seen tightening around his waist in calm approach.
He is the same as the boy.
In his armored hand, the man holds something. It looks like a shriveled brown pod peppered with protrusions. A sharp stem sticks out from what the boy presumed to be its top. The teenager has never quite seen anything like this before. He stares at the item from his prone position with great interest, a grin plastered about his face.
That… that must be it, the teenager thinks to himself. The rare treasure they came here for.
He'd read of legends that spoke of an almighty seed cast down from the gods, one that bestows any who eat its grown flesh power untold. The greatest power any mortal man would ever see. But the legends also gave tell of a great price, one that was perpetually shrouded in mystery. Chopped from the pages of history intentional or otherwise.
He wants to jump up and grab it, examine it… but he holds back for now. He'll get his turn. Even if he has to do it in secret. He won't risk being scolded.
The boy shifts his eyes up to the approaching man expectantly as the man finally comes to a halt before him, kicking up the last remnants of the dirt as the blue sky watches on with silent judgment.
Glaring down with a set of his own dark eyes and wild hair, the man reaches out his free hand toward the boy.
"It's time to go… Gohan."