Disclaimer: Oh you'd like for me to deny ownership, wouldn't you? Well that's too bad!--- you'll sue me? Fine, I don't own Charmed. Or Batman Begins. Are you happy now?
Chris was confused. "This isn't… possible… this is at least a year after that…" What he didn't say was: This was after Piper had died. After Wyatt turned. This was the year I had abandoned magic in order to flee… from the wrath of the Elders.
"Piper must have held it down longer that the other time," Paige mused. "Where are you? Young you, I mean," she added as Chris made to throw out a sarcastic comment about opening her eyes.
He smiled mischievously. "Take a wild guess."
Eyes narrowed the sisters and Leo moved forward, huddling together slightly for warmth as they scanned the scarfed faces in the small band of spectators. They were all clothed and scarfed so heavily it was difficult to make out any distinguishing facial features. The only ones who weren't bogged down in winter-wear were the two fighting, but they were moving so fast everything about them was blurred anyway… except--
"Is that that girl?" Phoebe asked suddenly, spotting a pair of deep indigo blue eyes in the crowd as the girl read her book, not paying much attention to the swordplay taking place. "The one from your class… Paris?"
"Uh huh," Chris nodded what looked like absently, but Phoebe could tell there was something more going on behind those unnatural blue eyes as they fell upon the now fourteen year old girl. She couldn't quite put her finger on it though.
Paige squinted harder at the faces. "Okay, I give up. Where are you?"
"I'm the one being forced back. Now I'm the one forcing Gonivere back… Now---"
"Shorter or taller?" interrupted Paige, now watching the two fighting who were obviously Chris and whoever Gonivere was. Their swords were clashing at the speed of light, glinting silver blurs, and the racket they made was deafening, echoing off the mountainsides.
Chris scowled. "Shorter."
"Where are we?" asked Phoebe, looking at the endless snowy mountain range, not so much interested in the duel as the others were.
"Wilczek Land, in the Franz Josef archipelago," he replied, eyes taking in the familiar scenery with a closed expression. It was only when he was met by the vacant stares that he realized it wasn't a place they knew. "It's, um, an island in the Artic Ocean in northwestern Russia. In your time it's believed to be too cold to be inhabitable by humans, but there are a few native tribes… and it's kind of a secret base for the Waun Gladior."
"The Waun who?" repeated Phoebe, uncomprehendingly.
Chris looked somewhat reluctant. "The Waun Gladior. They're a discrete organization against human evildoers. They've got connections everywhere around the world and are sort of like some seriously ass kicking vigilantes. After a certain --- Event--- I had to disappear for a while, so I came here to learn to fight without using magic. These people here-- they're the best. There isn't a style or weapon they don't know or can't teach you. Gonivere-- that man I'm fighting-- was my personal mentor, the leader of the Waun Gladior's right hand man. And he taught me a lot."
"Event?" said Piper, speaking to him for the first time, and not kindly. "What event would make you have to disappear-- and not use magic?"
"Something… upset… the magical community. Something I can't tell you about. But I had to get away, and as long as I used magic they could track me, so I had to come here, where magic doesn't exist, basically."
"Why would you have to disappear?" pressured Leo. Then oh-so slyly, "Unless you were responsible for the… event?"
Chris looked away. "I can't tell you about it. Really."
The Charmed ones and Leo, deciding to let it rest for a while, turned and moved closer to see the 14 Chris' 'training session'. Even if Chris said Gonivere was the best, the two seemed evenly matched, both moving faster than the sisters and Leo could make out their features. Suddenly, a sword went flying and the clashing ceased mercifully. 14 Chris, his back to them, had his own weapon pointed at his mentor's throat. The onlookers "Ooo" ed, laughing. They were all grown men except the fourteen year old girl, who glanced up only briefly to see what had happened, before returning to her book.
"I win," said 14 Chris, and they could hear the slight smile, even though they couldn't see his face. To their surprise Gonivere replied, smiling himself,
"Not quite." The two looked down. The thirty-eight year old vigilante had a knife held to the boy's side, previously concealed by his light, black furred jacket. The audience howled with laughter. Gonivere continued mildly, "I told you to disarm me, Nierain."
"I did," protested 14 Chris-- or Nierain, whatever that meant. They both let their weapons fall, Gonivere sheathing his knife and Chris leaning idly against his sword. Gonivere noticed, his black hawk-like eyes catching everything.
"I told you not to do that," he said sharply. "That is a formidable weapon and you disgrace it by sitting on it." 14 Chris sighed and sheathed it at his side. Gonivere continued as he went to retrieve his own sword, "If you believe you disarmed me, your definition of disarm is wrong. It means 'to make harmless'. Was my sword the only thing that could harm you?"
14 Chris turned to him exasperatedly, and for the first time they could see his face clearly.
They were stunned.
He had changed, aged a lot for just a year… or perhaps they only though that because the hair that was always falling into his face, where his center bangs had grown out, was pure, shock white. Just two streaks of white hair amidst the sandy brown, framing his face. But there were also two more thing that immediately jumped out at them.
His eyes. Though on the surface they were bored and still startlingly green, beneath-- and very visible-- they were haunted. Agonized. Grief stricken. Betrayed. Lost. Afraid. And so, so very haunted. It was a hurricane of mind-shatteringly broken emotions, so terrible it was almost impossible to meet his eyes, let alone imagine what had transpired to make him feel such a way so hopelessly permanently. There was no doubt whatever had happened to his eyes was also linked to his now white hair.
Then there was the scar across his face. Well, not really all the way across his face, but a very noticeable horizontal burn mark across the left side, maybe two inches wide and four inches across. It looked as though his had been burned by the flat of a sword.
Immediately the girls and Leo gasped and Leo, for a flicker of a moment, recognized the scar as a symbol of… something. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it still gave him a very uneasy feeling. It was a symbol of something… bad.
"Good Grief!" Paige exclaimed. "What the heck happened to you?"
"The Event."
Paige gave him the evil eye.
"No, but how was I supposed to know you were stashing knives up your sleeves? Does it look like I have x-ray vision to you?" The young version of Chris replied to his mentor's earlier question wearily.
"You should," Gonivere replied blatantly. "If you want to live. Besides that, you fought well. But remember--- mind your surroundings! Snow melts, you slip unless you're careful; ice breaks if you push it hard enough." He swung his sword around in a circle and 14 Chris drew his and held it at the ready.
"The goal this time?" 14 Chris queried.
"Try to unbalance me. Disorient, if you will." They clanked their weapons in a salute and then the swordplay began again, as did the betting men in the audience.
"Gonivere's definitely got this one," predicted one man, nodding. "He's been fighting longer than Nierain's even been alive."
"I dunno," shrugged another. "Nierain did get his name for a reason."
"Wait--- Nierain is you?" exclaimed Phoebe, not the brightest crayon in the box. Chris gave her a look and nodded, as if to say 'not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?'. Phoebe blushed.
"What does Nierain mean?" inquired Paige.
Chris pulled a face. "Well… it's kind of hard to explain."
"I'm sure you'll try your best, though," said Paige confidently, patting him on the shoulder. Chris gave her a look, too, before sighing thoughtfully.
"Okay… well, you know how some people say if you put a baby in the water it will swim because it doesn't know it can't?" The girls nodded. "Well, it's kind of like that… certain limitations didn't really apply to me because I didn't know what they were, or that they should."
Their eyes went wide in understanding, but Chris knew that each was interpreting his words a little differently than the others. He looked away, back at the match.
14 Chris was mainly blocking, his mind obviously somewhere else… Somewhere future Chris' mind still went when he couldn't see a light beyond the blackness when it was bearing down on him the most. His mentor, and soon to be close friend, noticed the lack of effort disapprovingly.
"Nierain!" he barked, giving a harder swipe than he would have, getting the boy's attention. "Get your mind back here this instant!"
"It-- is!" snapped 14 Chris, pausing in effort to throw off the sudden harder attack. How was he going to disorient Gonivere if he couldn't even get past his offense?
"Nierain, why do we even have these exercises if you're not even going to fight with heart? You have to want to hurt me!" The swords swished faster than before, but it was all still just automatic.
"Why would I want to hurt you? I'm not mad at you about anything---" he was still simply blocking the lightening quick blows, unable to form any way of unbalancing his mentor in his mind.
"Oh, you will be," his mentor said grimly, bearing down harder and harder. "…'Cause we're going to talk about your parents."
By the way the boy faltered, they could tell if there was any button Gonivere could have push, he had nailed it on the head with a hammer.
"Parent-son problems?" sneered Piper. Chris threw her a silencing death-look.
"No," retorted 14 Chris. "We are not."
"Nierain's going to win this one," all of the on watchers said in perfect unison. Paris even looked up from her apparently fascinating book, open concern and apprehension on her serene elfin features.
"You're parents' deaths were your fault and your fault alone!" Gonivere accused, bashing the ever-living tar out of that button. "You let your parents die! You killed them!"
14 Chris' reaction was astounding. Suddenly he had the upper hand and was forcing his teacher back, violently. "Don't you say that! You weren't there!"
"I have my connections--- 43 year old woman found brutally slaughtered, what is believed to be the remains of her husband, second son mysteriously vanishes-- they think you're either dead or their killer; and seeing as you're not dead--"
The swords were flying so fast Gonivere was actually working to block the furious attacks.
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! You have NO idea---!"
"You hated them--- admit it, Nierain!"
"Of course I hated them!" 14 Chris retorted angrily, all but screaming. "And I still hate them! I hate them for everything they did to me-- everything they're still doing to me! Even in death they are still torturing me, and I still HATE THEM!"
He pushed Gonivere's sword aside long enough to grab his shoulders and flip over the man's head, put a heel to his back, and in turn flip his teacher over his own head, landing Gonivere on his back. The boy held his sword to his throat. "Disorienting enough?" 14 Chris panted, catching his breath in the freezing cold air. To his grudging disbelief Gonivere smiled.
"Indeed it was. But you just can't seem to learn-- mind your surroundings." With that said, the older took his sword and pierced the ground at 14 Chris' feet; immediately the ice cracked and sent the boy plunging into subzero degrees water.
The men on the sidelines burst out laughing, always the cheery group. Paris rolled her eyes.
14 Chris placed his quaking hands firmly on the solid ice and somersaulted out of the negative temperature water and into the negative temperature air, shaking uncontrollably, wet bi-colored hair sopping into his face.
"Th-that i-is s-s-so no-n-not fun-ny," he stuttered, succeeding only in making the men howl louder.
Glowering, water still streaming from his hair and clothes, the boy snatched his sword and flung it at the audience. They didn't have time to move before the ice beneath them shattered and they were submerged as well-- all except Paris, who was conveniently placed at a spot where the ice chose to stay solid. The boy smiled.
"I st-stand corrected--- i-it i-is f-f-funny."
Gonivere and Paris both rolled their eyes. The boy wrinkled his nose at his mentor. "Just b-be gl-glad there w-w-weren't any f-fish!"
Reviews
THANK YOU everyone who reviewed! I'm sorry I can't reply to everyone personally, but I haven't updated in a week and I only have one more minute before I gotta do my homework then go to my academic team meet… dern. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for reviewing! I love hearing feedback!