Before reading my story there are few things you need to know. I am very easy going and very easy to talk with. I also offer help if and when I am available. This space is solely to bring inspiration to other authors and readers, whether you enjoy my material or not. Hopefully, you do.
I respect the reader and hope that I can have that same respect in return.
Lastly, I am open to criticism but I will moderate reviews because I care not for 'flames' in them. If you don't like it that much, write what you want and be productive, not destructive. I wish you, the reader, enjoyment and bid you welcome to my head and my humorous attempt to creative writing again solely for my soul. I guess we will both see how this will end up. Either burn brilliantly amongst the digital screen as virtual ashes, or illicit something different altogether. I'm not sure myself, but I'm eager to have you find out with me. Time will tell. Stay safe.
~AH
X
A beginning must have an ending, and an end must have a start. It's the timeless song of the universe that is chorded in life and death. It's a necessity for the cycle of life as nothing is ever in a state of permanence.
And in that necessity marks the ending chapter of one soul and the beginning of a new one.
"Are you okay, son?" A gravelly voice called out. Grounding each syllable slowly, deliberately, and carefully. It was odd yet welcoming, beckoning the listener to stir from such a heavy sleep. It was impossible to recall how long he had slept as the words echoed through the darkness, pushing the gears of his mind to turn over and his consciousness to sputter to life.
How long was he out? Ever an odd sensation, waking up from a sleep so sound that a part of him fought the idea of waking again.
"Are you alive, my dear boy?" The earthy voice felt sincere as far as rocks could be concerned. It beckoned to him again through the void.
His mind defiantly pushed the treacherous temptation of sleep away as he plowed forward into consciousness and opened his eyes. The first sense was being overwhelmed with bright light.
Trunks' eyes fluttered open, revealing blue skies overhead and the occasional cloud stretching out in rolls of white blankets. The young man was lying on a grassy bank; the rolling water gurgled by the creek as blades of grass tickled his bare skin through the openings of his tattered armor. The air was clean and crisp, giving a hint of mountainous evergreen of pines and firs. If he were honest, it was storybook that left him dazed from its simplistic and serene view, halting all cognitive processes as he took it all in.
"Hoh? All is not lost then." A sigh broke him from the trance, and he turned to see a small man seated next to him before falling backward in relief. His body was frail, which came with an age long-lived and with a white hooded cloak that covered the top of the face, just enough to provide shade from the sun.
Trunks stared confusingly into the man's eyes. He could see they held an unbearably tired expression. He only glanced momentarily before his current predicament caught up to him in his mind.
Just who was this person? Where was he? And what was going on?
Dazedly, he pushed himself up to a seated position and felt the pieces of his armor fall away in small chips down his now exposed torso. A recollection of prior events flashed quickly in his mind's eye as he stared at the tattered remains of his garment.
He remembered, like an amnesiac, suddenly recovering their memories. He remembered the excruciating burning sensation of a fiery lance of molten energy piercing through his heart. It was a death blow, accurate, and quick to catch its target by surprise. Judging by the damaged armor, it worked, as the only thing Trunks could remember was the sense of falling backward into a world of black.
His hand flew reflexively to cover the phantom pain. He grimaced as the sensation of death throbbed his entire body. The impression of his heart being destroyed caused his pulse to quicken, his breath began to get short as he tried to take long drags of air to calm himself.
"There—there," The old man smiled sadly as if reading his mind and carefully placed a reassuring hand on his shoulders.
Trunks stiffened instinctually. The band holding his hair together was destroyed, leaving the full length to spill forward and cover his face in messy tresses of lavender. His eyes scanned the area as he brought himself to his knees, uncertain of what to do.
He looked again at the hole in his armor and was surprised to find undamaged skin shining from sweat in the sun. That left him with even more questions.
"You took a nasty hit, that you did." The old man nodded, again appearing as if to read the young man's mind. "Fortunately, I dabbled a bit in restoration magic back in my day. Made you right as rain, unfortunately, I can't seem to say the same for your outfit, odd as it may be."
"Restoration magic?" Trunks gave a confused look at the old man, who returned it with a cheeky grin. Looking down at his torn apparel, Trunks nodded his head in understanding. The old man said he used restoration magic to bring him back from the brink. Now, the only practitioner of the sort he knew of was Dende, and Trunks could deduce that he wasn't anywhere near the Lookout.
That just left one obvious question.
"Who—Who are you?" Trunks stumbled back down to his knees from trying to stand too quickly. His hair matted in sweaty chunks to his brow.
"Nedi." The old man ground out happily as he stood back, giving the young man his space, and leaned on his cane. It was a gnarly thing, filled with knots every couple of inches before bulging out at the top. It reminded Trunks of Kami's in a way.
"Nedi Epcot, my boy. And I suspect you have a lot of questions."
"Y-Yea, I do. Could you start by telling me what is going on exactly? And wherever THIS is?" He stretched his senses as far as he could as he asked, no natural energies—least of all Cell's—returned. Nothing in this world seemed to radiate Ki that he was used to feeling. It was more subdued now, much less potent. It filled him with a mixture of anxiety and relief.
Relief that he couldn't sense that all confusing powerhouse of a monster's energy anywhere nearby. Anxiety for not feeling any sort of familiarity with this place or anywhere near in general.
One thing was sure, he was confused and lost.
"A nasty fall it was." Nedi's robes billowed as he shook his head slowly. "A bright flash from the sky as if a second sun had popped into existence. Lucky, these eyes of mine are sharp enough to catch the outline of your body falling. Found you in a sore state. I did. Was more surprised that there was any life in you by the time I got to you."
The old man looked Trunks over, absolutely baffled as he recalled the scene as he thumped his cane to the ground.
"What, in Eris' holy name, happen to you, my boy?"
The young man looked around the beautiful landscape that he was in, his mind drawing a blank of how he went from the tournament's arid, hectic scenery to somewhere so contrasting and peaceful.
"That." Trunks chewed over before grunting up on to his feet. His body giving slight protest to the action as his legs shook to get stable underneath him. "Is something I'm wondering myself, actually."
"Well, whatever it may be," Nedi said, a bit more uneasy as he eyed the weary fellow. "Do you think whatever did that to you would come back and try to finish the job?"
"Not sure," Trunks said as he stared off to the woods, still finding it hard to believe the drastic change in scenery from what his mind could recount. "But now I have a question: where am I exactly?"
"Heh—heh, I'd expect so." Nedi chuckled before motioning Trunks to follow him to his wagon. Tentatively, he observed, grasping nearby trees as he hasn't found to trust his own feet just yet.
"My boy, you have landed outside Alcanretia. Be fortunate that you were doubly lucky to be found by me instead. Tenacious those locals are, they would have weaseled you into joining their little sect."
Alcarentia? He never heard of the place nor anything like that for that matter, perhaps a small village of some kind, though that last bit had him a little worried. He stumbled to quicken his pace with the spritely timer through the woods.
It didn't take long for them to get to even ground. The two wrestled between overgrown weeds before finally stepping on a well-traveled dirt road. Nedi's wagon seemed unbothered as the horses chewed idly at the grass off to the side. Trunks eyed it curiously. Just how far out in the sticks was he? Again, he wrestled with the name of Alcarentia but still came up empty.
Sensing the young man's confusion, the old man gave a knowing smile at his wagon.
"I'm certain it's quite unlikely for you to have heard of such a place." Nedi turned to give the young man a serious look. "For someone of another world like yourself, you are indeed a fish out of its own pond."
"Excuse me?" That stopped the young man from taking a step further as he eyed the old man suspiciously, making sure he put ample distance between them.
Nedi said nothing. Instead, he stared at Trunks with an unreadable expression. Instinctually, Trunks wanted to look at the man as if he grew another head. A gut feeling of sorts began to softly whisper dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that the old man was right and how the man looked at him gave little room for doubt in his words, making the feeling grow more substantial. Trunks looked back at the wagon, the road, and the old man with more urgency than before. The idea was just too crazy! It had to be! Still, why had he not felt the others? Where was Cell? Where was anybody?
What the hell happened to him!?
His knees buckled as Trunks reached to steady himself on the wagon. A million questions raced through his mind like water bursting through the flood gates. He felt he was drowning in uncertainty as he gulped down air amidst his panic.
"Listen, son." Nedi's voice became much gentler as he carefully reached out to console a young man who seemed more lost than ever. "There is quite a lot that I know about this world that which you would not—no, you wouldn't."
He checked the reigns of his horses and cargo before hopping up with ease that belied his physique. Nedi turned and reached his hand to Trunks with a gentle smile.
"But if you would humor this old man, I would put a little more into perspective. That I would."
Trunks looked at the hand with uncertainty, but up until this point, the old man had been nothing but forthright. If his honesty had anything to say, then it stifled his doubt. He nodded and clasped the old man's hand firmly.
"Alright then, I'll trust you."
XX
Days have passed since he met Nedi on that embankment and summarily throw the proverbial wrench into what he thought he knew. Yet, it wasn't all for naught. During this time, the two began to strike a friendship quickly as the old man was a hermit of sorts and hadn't possessed the joy of company in quite a while. Good-natured, very easy going and patient were the best ways to describe the mysterious driver. With nothing around except wildlife and the occasional passerby that walked past the dirt road they took, that led to time to get to know one another. The slow pace of the wagon wheel against the dirt had given way for lengthy discussions of various topics to kill the seemingly endless stretch of time. Nedi wasted not one moment filling the young man's head with the history of the world that Trunks had now found himself in.
Countless hours were spent of him recalling great battles that were fought. The aftermath could still be seen as they passed by, mementos of a time long gone. Kingdoms rising and falling like the setting of the sun, calling a close of what was and ushering what will be. Eventually, the tales had to wind to the present, and the old man also spoke of the emergence of the Devil King.
Apparently, the Devil King's arrival sparked the entire chain of events as to why he would have likely ended up in their world in the first place. The reasoning was sound enough, even if it went against his own thoughts of the afterlife.
Death and destruction have been waged on humanity. This world's souls have chosen not to reincarnate in these lands, leading to its decline in the human population. Trunks stewed over that fact as he could relate, his mind simmered with indignation at the thought. No matter where you went, suffering always seemed a guarantee. It grated his nerves as scenes of his own time overlapped the land he saw as a transparent overlay.
According to the old man, numerous goddesses from other worlds have created a system to counter that downward curve and make a check on the Devil King's advancement.
That system was reincarnating souls from other worlds.
When Nedi broke that news to him, it only solidified his worst fears of what really happened before being found.
He had died. No matter how gently the old man tried to ease the topic, it was evident. He distinctly remembered the feeling.
Indignation gave way to a more incredible emotion as another thought entered his mind, regret. He had failed. Perhaps he made it worse with the introduction of Cell? It seemed to be that way. He destroyed the very hope he carried to right the wrongs of his timeline and find justice for the countless lives lost. The fact gutted him with a brutal force as he looked down at his own hands. They were the makers of his own ruin, and now, he would reap the cost of his ignorance. He could hardly stand his own company.
Pathetic. His pride stung, knowing he done no good.
He wasn't sure he could ever reconcile that fact.
Trunks kept at the back of the wagon with the goods a few days to get his mind right after that revelation. Being whisked away against his will to a new place and expect to fight not only made him uneasy as it was, but his own failures made him unsure if he was the right man for the job.
It's not that he didn't want to help save this world. But looking back at his own attempts to change brought one thing to clarity, he was just a stupid kid in over his head. What could he have done? Really.
His body trembled as he recalled the spike in power before his death. It was like a mountain rising from the earth, its peak stretching above the clouds as its vast base engulfed the entire horizon, forcing you to catch your breath while trying to see the top. It was downright terrifying.
He hoped Gohan dragged Cell back to whatever hell he came. Trunks was at war with himself, wondering if his former mentor and best friend was even up to the task of bringing him heel. Because of him, though, Trunks now knew there were new limits to break. Perhaps one day, he would be able to catch up and go past the threshold to new heights and possibilities. In the meantime, he silently prayed for their victory.
Trunks pulled back the curtain that hung over the front of the wagon's bed. The afternoon sun temporarily blinded him as he crawled to the driver's seat. Vast open plains surrounded them on both sides of the road, with sparse remains of ancient ruins littering the landscape.
Even with the slow pace, they had gathered a reasonable distance from the mountainous region where he was found. Now it was flat open plains and prairies.
"Good to see they fit you well." Nedi ground out as he chewed the pipe in his mouth; the sweet and dense aroma of tobacco greeted the young man's nose as he looked down at his new clothes. Trunks nodded in agreement.
His armor was too damaged to continue wearing; the elastic one-piece had been torn at the joints. The armor itself was a crumbling mess as the shell had been compromised from Cell's attack, which bored through the densest part of the structure. Now, it was more like Papier Mache, ready to crumble at any point.
It didn't take a genius to understand the old man's argument to blend in; he looked like a haggard tangle.
Like before, his hair was in a loose ponytail with his bangs falling freely to the sides. Nedi had offered to trim it for him, but Trunks declined the offer. He realized that he had actually gotten comfortable with the length. He felt akin to the old tales of wandering souls on the roads, lost and not who they once were. It may have been arbitrary, but a simple trim would've brought back that same youthful face of hope and naivety.
Trunks wanted no part of that now.
The shirt was simple enough, a low-cut, long-sleeved shirt of white cotton that held strings in the front to tie the collar if need be. His pants were made of dark wool. The kind that trapped heat a little too quickly for his liking and itched like no one's business. Even so, they clung comfortably around his legs and were held up by a small leather belt.
The boots took the longest to get as they had to stay at a village for a cobbler to make. They were simple and expertly made. They were leather, stopping at the same height as his old pair, which traveled a portion up the shins. They would provide decent durability, which was Nedi's argument.
"Yea," Trunks yawned as he stretched his back, bones popped from how crammed it was to sleep at the rear of the wagon. It was filled like an over-packed bag; sleeping only came in waves of a few minutes here and there. Still, the amount of charity that Nedi had given to Trunks did not go unnoticed.
"I don't know how, but I will pay you back for this, Mr. Epcot. That, I promise."
"Spare the formalities, my boy." The old man waved with his pipe. "Consider it a duty to the goddesses to see that the Devil King is defeated—yes, indeed. You can pay me back by being victorious."
Trunks gave a small nod, finding no argument with that logic. Yet, a good portion of his mind still reeling about the whole ordeal.
"Is it true?" The young man chewed out with uncertainty to the front of his mind. "You know, getting me back home and stuff—"
"Son," Nedi interrupted with a challenging look. His cloak was pulled back to show wispy hair combed messily to the side as his cloudy eyes bored into the young man. "You defeat the Devil King, and I can assure you that the heavens will personally grant you a wish. Any wish you want—that, they would."
Watching Trunks shrink a little under his gaze, Nedi bit back the pipe in his mouth with a loud 'click.'
"Though—for the life of me—I could never guess why you would want to return to such a place." He grumbled with even more gravel in his tone.
Trunks didn't give a lot of information about his homeworld, finding the subject slightly uncomfortable. Still, he gave the old man enough to put it together on his own.
"Bleak. Bleak indeed."
"I'm not sure about it either, ya know? It's just…complicated." Trunks looked onwards as his mind drifted to other thoughts.
He remembered the words his mother scribbled in bold letters on his time machine. 'Hope' etched on a pillar of one of the engines, its meaning carrying him to the past. It was also with the hope that he would return and right his own world. It was a promise that he did not keep, and now it left him with a giant hole of indecision.
"I say keep your options open at least." Nedi sighed, his grip on the reigns slackened as he shook his head at the young man next to him. "You certainly have a penchant for trouble—though I'm not certain that is entirely a good thing. No."
"And here I thought that was a good thing." Trunks smirked, happy to change the subject as he eyed a wall coming to view on the horizon. "Considering what I have to do to get where I need to go…"
"Yes," Nedi conceded to that point. "But it's one thing to be adventurous, another to be suicidal. The two are not mutual as one exercises restraint while the other abandons it."
"Don't worry," Trunks mumbled as the wagon passed people along the road. Some waved in greeting. "You're right on that, and I don't plan on dying anytime soon."
"You mean 'again,' don't you, son?" He smiled as Trunks shifted awkwardly at the comment—undoubtedly taking a bit of the wind out of the young man's sails.
"So, I guess we're coming up on Axel?" Trunks coughed as his cheeks appeared a bit redder. He eyed the walls that stretched considerably on both sides. Giant slabs of stone were carved and fitted in place to create the border. It was medieval in style, something he would've seen in a textbook, but the sheer size was much grander in scale. The towers on the wall rose intimidatingly as the young man craned his neck up to see them. A sudden jerk of the wagon brought Trunks back from his internal observations.
The cart stopped right outside the massive wooden gates of the town.
"You'd be right, my boy." Nedi sighed before turning to dig in the back of the wagon, ignoring the confused look on the young man's face. "This is where our ways must part, I'm afraid."
"Wait, why!?" Trunks stumbled at the admission, nearly falling off the wagon as the horses whinnied at the sudden jostle. "Think you could've thrown this at me sooner!? I mean, I'm more than out of my element here and with everything—"
"I could've. But someone decided to hide in the wagon—yes." Nedi called out as he continued to rummage in the back half muttering to himself with indignant curses. The occasional passerby jolted at the harsh language coming from the back; Trunks merely shook his head as their gaze looked at him questioningly.
"Besides, I have business elsewhere that requires my attention. I have taken you to the only safe place to start at—yes, I have. I also don't think a fighter of your caliber will have much to worry about…Unless you're lazy or stupid…or both—yes, that would do it."
Finding what he was looking for, Nedi climbed back in the driver's seat and handed Trunks a small leather pouch. The jingle that followed was the rustling of coins of this world's currency, something Trunks felt hesitant to accept.
"I…I can't pay you back if you just leave." Trunks sighed as he pocketed the change, taking the stern look from the old man as a cue to accept it without another word.
"You can pay me back by doing what you were meant to do," Nedi said with a bit more force as he shifted uncomfortably at the silent stare of the young man seated next to him.
The old man scratched his chin awkwardly before pointing straight through the gate.
"Go ask where the adventurer's guild is in this town. Take that money I gave you and register with them. There you can complete jobs to earn money and work your way to beating the Devil King—that will do."
"But, I still have no idea of what classes and skills are." The old man had spent the first half of their journey explaining this world's natural laws.
One of which was this leveling system that Trunks found to be ridiculous, to say the least. How can you accurately measure a person's own growth? Even scouters had limits. What was even more annoying—if not more alarming—was learning that his Ki, his own energy, was locked in incremental seals because of this system.
He could feel it still, resonating within him like a reassuring hum that it was there. But, it was like looking through a glass, separated by a strong but invisible barrier. It was still unnerving but also a bit exhilarating.
"You can choose whatever class you want, though I suggest the 'Monk' class as it is more familiar with your own style of combat—yes. It is up to you to decide. Now off with you!" He shooed the young man off his cart with a playful grin.
"Will I see you again?" The question was automatic, and Trunks felt compelled to know. Had it not been for the old man, he wasn't sure what exactly he would've done.
"Undoubtedly so! I frequent this little hamlet more than often!" He turned the cart slowly around, his head dipped slightly towards Trunks before waving like a sage bidding his ward farewell. "And best of luck to you!"
He watched the cart move further and further away, seemingly blending into the mass of people entering the giant gates before ultimately disappearing on the horizon.
Trunks wasn't sure how long he stood there, ignoring the subtle shoulder bumps of the countless townspeople walking before taking a long breath to still the pounding of his heart.
"Yea," Trunks sighed. "I'm gonna need it."
XXX
Axel, the town of beginners, at least, that's what Nedi had told him. It is a place not only well-fortified but also situated farthest from the reach of the Devil King's kingdom, providing a haven for the people living here and fostering growth among new adventurers.
Trunks walked the cobbled streets. A mixture of anxiety and uneasiness clung close to his chest with being in a place so foreign. Days spent confined to the wagon had done little to prepare for the shock that awaited him, a fact that he did not appreciate as he began to feel isolated. He watched the kids run-pass, chasing a ball that bounced irregularly between the street and their legs. Such an innocent moment left him stranded with his own childhood, like an island amongst a sea of troubles. He quickly felt he was intruding on the kids' moment and ventured his eyes elsewhere.
The people dressed modestly as they walked to and from the various shops that lined the streets' side. They dressed in typical garb that he expected in this time, simple dress with few colors here and there. Some of the buildings were red-bricked of two to three stories with chimneys billowing smoke from a well-kept hearth inside. Others were thatched and white with plain sidings that appeared more meager, indicating a class difference amongst the populace that called this town 'home'.
Trunks gave a friendly nod to the occasional bystander that glanced his way as he walked. The people seemed nice enough, as they typically responded in kind. Some giving just as curious of glances that he was giving them as if wondering the same thing that he was. What were you doing here? He guessed it could be worse and was thankful that for the moment, at least, it wasn't. Some were tilting their hats to him, while others gave a small wave. He gave a silent thanks to the old man. Nedi was right; his new outfit did an excellent job of blending in.
"You lookin' a little lost there, ain'tcha?" A gruff voice came from behind, startling Trunks at the sudden directness of the tone towards him. He whirled around; eyes widened as he got a better look at the man who stood half a head taller than him.
The first thing Trunks noticed was the mohawk before seeing the rest of the guy. He was a burly man, that was no doubt. Sporting a strange vest of sorts and no shirt, he posed with his back straight and head held high. His eyes had a glimmer as he studied Trunks with a smirk.
"That obvious, huh?" Trunks mumbled while rubbing the back of his head.
The rough-looking guy snorted at that. Either amused by his own deduction or Trunks' blatant honesty, he seemed to not hold any ill intentions at least. His face softened considerably as he shifted more to a relaxed posture. That quickly dissolved whatever tension held between the two.
"Never seen yer face 'round here, and I know the locals pretty well." He said conversationally. "So, what brings ya here to good ole Axel?"
"I'm actually trying to find the Adventurer's Guild." Trunks eyed a food stand over to the side, ignoring the growing protest of his stomach. "Know where I can find it?"
"Hoh? Ya certainly look like the adventurer type." The guy observed as he stroked his goatee in thought, his grin widening the longer he did. It didn't take long for whatever decision that the guy came to. Nodding to himself as if he had an internal debate, the man gave a toothy grin. "Sure thing! You'll definitely fit in with the rest of us punks! Allow me to escort you to the Gates of Hell!"
Gates of hell? Was that a figure of speech or—whatever thought he had was cut short. Trunks stumbled back a bit as the bigger man's boisterous nature started to gather an audience. Various eyes locked on the duo as the antics halted the usual goings of daily life around them. A nervous laugh began to crawl up his throat from the sudden increase of unwanted attention by random pedestrians as he watched the mohawk man march at an uncomfortably slow pace.
"Follow! Me! To the party! Everyone wants to be!" He bellowed in amusement, fisting the air as he marched high knee down the street. By the looks of the people around, they seemed to have already adjusted to the guy's…odd behavior before their gaze finally fell onto him with amused expectance.
Trunks twitched confusingly at the display, not knowing quite how to react as people began smirking at the impromptu show. His embarrassment rose at the thought of even walking next to that man! Nevertheless, he followed, resigned to his fate and intent on seeing it through, regardless of the apparent whispers within the crowd. He tried to maintain a healthy distance behind him. Eyes glued to the ground as the guy paraded him down the street to the entertainment of everyone around. Trunks quickly shot an annoyed glare at the man's back before going back to a genuine interest at his own feet.
Gates of hell indeed!
Like a prize-worthy of sacrifice, Trunks ignored the jeers and calls from the various people that seemed to play off the mohawk guy's energy. Unfortunately, his giving no reaction only fueled their attempts to get at him, as well as make his guy shout louder. As if anyone else should possibly be left wondering what was going on in town today.
"This here's the place!"
The words did not register as Trunks ran headfirst into the massive back of his guide, causing both to stumble in a somewhat awkward dance that resembled much like a chicken flapping its wings. The impromptu show gave some people a good chuckle as they both spread their arms to regain balance. The guy stopped at the steps to a rather large building after crossing the busiest part of town. Trunks sighed, massaging his temples as he silently thanked that the little parade was over now. He looked up to take stock of the building.
It seemed to be one of the most significant structures he had seen thus far in town. It was a two-story bricked building with a red roof. A coat of arms hung centered at the front just above the door. And above that was a circular stained-glass window, its various colors shined brightly against the light of the sun. It would seem that the building, in particular, had great care taken in its construction. With the volume of people entering and leaving, it spoke of its importance.
"You'll want to go check in with Luna." The man said as he jabbed a thumb towards the front door. "Just head straight in! Ya can't miss her!"
Trunks nodded, walking a few steps up before stopping as he silently cursed at himself.
"Thanks, man. By the way, I never—" Trunks turned to see that the guy was no longer at his side. He noticed that his guide had already made it halfway down the street with surprising speed. It was easy to spot him as the mohawk acted like a dorsal fin amongst the sea of faces that crowded the square.
"—got your name…" Trunks finished with a slump of his shoulders.
That guy…he was something else, to say the least. The brief ordeal had already left Trunks, feeling mentally exhausted. Maybe it was a good thing he didn't catch the guy's name; if anything, he just hoped he didn't run into him again anytime soon. One impromptu parade around town was a lifetime's worth as far as Trunks was concerned.
The inside was spacious, archaic, and mystical? The floors were tiled in marble that stretched the entire floor. Vaulted ceilings created beams of light shone from the windows and the stained glass on both levels, giving a mystical feel to the place as motes of dust hovered as if basking in the rays. Giant statues with figures clad in weapons and armor stood side by side and were joined with decorative ribbons looping through their arms. The statues stood at attention in various places while people sat and yelled at multiple tables with drinks and food. It was raucous and dreamlike all the same.
"Welcome!" A girl called out while balancing a large plate in one hand and serving drinks with the other. "Sit wherever you like!" With practiced ease, the girl slid to the next table, jotting down orders and the like while throwing him a confident wink.
He gulped while watching her work, too caught up in the atmosphere around him to reply as his legs moved forward on their own. He walked straight down as he eyed the various people that sat at the tables, watching their gear and appearance. Not realizing he was staring, some patrons shot him a glare in return as they did not appreciate the unwanted attention, some even challengingly.
That made him stop and mutter quick apologies as he decided to study his feet again. A sharp jolt of bumping into someone and a surprised yelp had him snap back to focus.
Kneeling next to him was a woman with fair features as she scurried to pick up the various papers that strewn across the floor. She had blonde hair done up in a bun while the front spilled on the sides of her face, curling slightly away from the sharp angle of her jaw. Her eyes were a honey-colored hue of gold, deep and dark.
"I—My bad!" He blurted out before rushing to assist her with the mess that he made.
The woman looked like she was still in a bit of shock before backing away slowly after regaining some composure; a sheepish grin began to grow on her own features.
"It's quite alright." She spoke softly as Trunks handed her the rest of her papers. She smiled amiably at the gesture. "How can I help you?"
"Right." Trunks coughed nervously before offering his hand to help the clerk back up. "I'm looking for a miss Luna. I was told she could help me register with the guild."
"You can just call me Luna." She smiled while graciously taking his hand, which caused him to brighten at his own luck. "And here I thought I could catch a break today." She smirked playfully.
"Ah." Trunks stepped back. He felt a bit flustered as their encounter brought some wandering eyes his way. "I don't mean to be a bother, really. It's just—" He paused as Luna began to giggle at his embarrassing state.
"—I'm just teasing you. I have no problem setting your registration, but you'll have to pay the entrance fee of 1000 eris. Will that be okay?"
"I hope so," he shifted awkwardly as he pulled the small coin pouch that Nedi had given him from his pocket and handing it to her. "Guess we're about to find out?"
"I guess we are." She replied as she took the bag and ushered him to follow. "This way to the counter, please."
Luna emptied the contents over one of the desks near them; gold coins spilled out as she counted them quickly. Her head rose with a soft smile.
"This will do!" Trunks sighed with relief as he watched her pull out a spherical contraption of sorts.
Once that was done, Luna fetched a card from one of the drawers behind the reception counter.
"This will be your adventurer's card." It was small, but its size was of no importance as Trunks stared at the strange letterings etched on it. Nedi gave him a heads up, but experiencing it for the first time really left him in a state of shock. He could read it. A language that Trunks had no experience with was accessible to him as if he were raised with it his entire life. So busy with this revelation, he nearly missed Luna explaining the rest as she placed it down under the sphere and motioning him to step forward.
"It will keep track of all your monster kills and skills you acquire. It will also have all your information and capabilities, just in case you want to party up with other people."
He didn't know what to think of that last bit of information; having your abilities laid out for everyone to see was just asking for trouble. That was a bridge he would do well not to cross. He nodded for Luna to continue.
"All you need to do now is place your hand on the sphere, and it will print out your stats on the card!"
It sounded simple enough, and he did just that. Resting his right hand on the contraption, he gulped nervously as it began to thrum and glow to life. Energy pulsed and vibrated under his skin. It wasn't painful nor invasive, more like a palm reading of sorts if he ever could describe the impression. Another beam shot out under his palm, etching the information on the card below much like a printer would. When it was done, he removed his hand to see no markings left on the skin and watched as Luna grabbed his now personalized tag.
"Alright," She started calmly as she studied the information. "Let's see what you're working wit—" She paused as her eyes went over the text again. There was silence before she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and reread it, this time much slower. She did this a few times before stopping and looking at Trunks with an unreadable expression.
Needless to say, it made him self-conscious from the look her face was making at him. It put Trunks in a mild state of panic.
"So?" He asked tentatively, sweat formed on his brow from the suspense as the woman's shocked look put him on edge.
"Your stats…" She looked up at him. This time her eyes began to shine with excitement. A grin began to grow on her face before she finally shouted, "are the best I've ever seen!"
That proclamation sent the entire guild quiet as she repeated the statement loud enough for everyone to hear—much to his growing horror.
"R—Really, you don't say?" He stepped back nervously, eyes darting to the left and right as various adventurers began to slowly circle their position. He could practically feel the stares from everyone boring into him, which caused him to reflexively shrink back if at all possible. He gave Luna a pleading look to stop the scene from unfolding this way. Still, the damn woman seemed committed to making his business known to anyone and everyone.
"They're maxed. Across the board—well, except for intelligence being slightly above average and your luck being low." She listed off in rapid succession as others began to quirk in shock at what they were hearing. "Though luck isn't that important with adventurers. My advice would be to stay away from being a merchant. Other than that, you can have any job you want. Even the advanced classes!"
"Ah," Trunks muttered awkwardly, that luck stat seemed about right. How bad can one's luck be to not get a simple registration and have their abilities broadcasted far and wide? His brand of bad luck, it seemed. Appreciative whistles and shouts began to rise in a chant. Oddly enough, instead of expecting trouble and a challenge, Trunks began to notice a sort of acceptance within the adventurers themselves. Seriously, it couldn't be that big of a deal. But reality seemed to contradict that thought of his right away as a sincere interest began to take form in the young man. Various adventurers gave him a thumbs up, some already cheering and raising glasses for toasts. Luna smiled at the reception as if she knew something that he didn't. He caught the slight glint in her eyes from his flustered state as people came up to congratulate in their own way.
Was it always like this? Wasn't it more about how someone used their abilities than just possessing them?
A gentle tap from Luna brought him to face her. She cupped her hand to his ear.
"So, what would you like to be?" She asked loudly as the music reverberated across the marble walls.
He shook his head and smiled at the jovial antics that seemed to be contagious as his spirits lightened from the overall mood.
"I'd like to register as the 'Monk'." Trunks nodded confidently. It was the only logical choice. A class that specialized in the manipulation of their inner energies. They called it Ki as well and used it the same way to augment their performance by infusing their strengths to create strong attacks and increase their stats. The only class that felt natural to him in this strange world with its unnatural laws.
"Certainly!" Luna chirped as she pressed an icon on his card. A flash of energy swirled for a moment, and Trunks could sense some effect on what she had done. "I can see you being quite successful in that field. Please remember that you can change jobs later on if you choose."
"Right." Trunks said distractedly, turning his attention inward, the whole world quieted in his mind's eye. Guessing from registering as a class that harnesses Ki, he felt something shift within that invisible barrier that blocked his access to his own energy. He couldn't access even a fraction still, but something stirred once Luna selected his class of choice, as if it were primed ready and waiting on something on his end for something. A catalyst of sorts to usher the flood gates open, and he would figure out how call it forth.
His attention came back to Luna as she looked on to the merriment of the other adventurers. An exasperated sigh escaped as the number of drinks piled on the various tables like growing molehills.
Gates of Hell, huh? Even with its sporadic drunken brawls and gambling, there was a sense of welcoming that Trunks couldn't quite place as he looked back to Luna. She merely offered a shrug as an answer, as if reading his mind, flashing a knowing smile as if to tell him, "you'll figure it out."
XXXX
"So, this is the quest board." Trunks stared at the various parchments that hung there. He had to admit that it was convenient to have all the notices, requests, bounties, and quests clustered in one place. That made things easier.
Luckily, the reception had worn off. People decided to give the young man some space after several congratulations that were offered his way. To someone he had literally done nothing to deserve the praise, the notion was boggling. Besides an awkward "thanks" every now and then, he wasn't sure how to act in these situations. Like, what was it they expected from him or a person in his position? Every time he tried to inch his way out of the crowd, a friendly hand would pull him back into the madness. All he could do was just stand there like a wall, unable to move or leave, forced to weather the storm.
But now that he could get his bearings straight, he focused on understanding the guild's inner workings and what he needed to do for income. Luckily, Luna seemed happy to assist or was just glad that he took an interest in learning the right way in general. Saying it was a responsible approach, unlike the more spontaneous lot that seemed to make up most of the guild.
Trunks eyed the quests on the board and noticed how detailed they were in their descriptions of whatever particular job was assigned to it. They were indeed interesting as they had the information scribbled around in what seemed like a rudimentary drawing of the quest itself.
He quickly realized a correlation between the red stamps and the difficulty with each quest, albeit only at face value. For example, like the griffon quest, it basically was just looked like a stamp collector as the red markings circled the parchment at every corner and every inch of the document. But the meaning wasn't lost on him, as if warning him that it was a challenging quest.
"Indeed." Luna nodded as she pointed to the different topics and papers on the wall. Her finger glided across the various places on the board. Depicting a kind of pattern, like a category of sorts.
"Depending on the volume of quests, we may or may not separate them into types…Like kill quests on one side, escort or fetch quests having their own area, and so on. Just know that I will not allow you to take certain quests without a party."
She turned and leveled a serious look at him that left no room for argument or even conversation. "While completing a job is very important, I value safety above that. That is non-negotiable."
Trunks nodded at her insistence; a small smile formed despite the stern look she gave him. He could relate to that sentiment and wouldn't argue against it anytime soon.
"I admire that." He replied absently while caught up in his own musings. Catching the questioning look that came from Luna, he quickly added. "T—That's the way it should be! Some things are not worth just leaving to chance. At the end of the day, you have to think about the people that depend on you."
He learned that lesson all too well.
Gohan's death made him do just that, throwing himself at an adversary he knew was too dangerous. It was suicide, and Gohan and his mom told him as much. But he didn't care at the time; he got overconfident with his new transformation. Not considering what might happen to his mother or the people left in hiding, he only cared about revenge and nothing more. He wouldn't stop, and that mistake nearly cost him his life.
"…people that depend on you." She cupped her chin in thought. Looking up to him, she gave him another smile. "I'll hold you to that, Trunks. With your stats, you can do whatever you want. Even defeating the Devil King himself. So, I expect nothing but great things from you."
"I—'ll try not to disappoint then…" He grinned nervously.
"Only you can decide that." Luna giggled before hearing a growing commotion coming from the reception area. Turning her head to the desks, she sighed.
"Anyway," he eyed one of the petitions randomly. "Think I should join a party first? I don't see any other requests on here except this one. But—"
"—I'm sure you can find them around the guild somewhere. You might find it better to just ask them directly." She interrupted a bit hurriedly. She noticed a line forming at the reception's desk and groaned again. It couldn't be helped.
"Ah," he mumbled, realizing her situation as she continued to look back to him and her counter. He smiled sheepishly.
"I didn't mean to keep you too long."
"Oh, no, It's fine! I don't mind at all!" Luna smiled as she waved him off at that statement. She looked apologetic but began slowly making her way back to the counter. With small steps, she turned around to Trunks and gave him a wink.
"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask!"
"You bet." He smiled while watching Luna run back to her desk. The corners of his eye picked up two figures moving to a table close by, but what brought on his attention was the feeling of being watched by them. They must be the owners of the request because they kept trying not to look his way every time he turned his gaze their way. After waiting a few minutes of waiting and determining a social stalemate between the two and him, Trunks decided to just take the initiative.
The first stuck out like a sore thumb, a total mismatch with a green tracksuit and foreign features. He had a thin frame and a light complexion that told of a life spent indoors. Trunks caught the jolting of the young man's messy mop of brown hair as if arguing with his companion. His companion elbowed him in the side as she whispered something into his ear behind her hand. The young man quickly shot her a glare before noticing that Trunks was watching. The guy pretended to look past Trunks as if deep in thought; his eyes glazed over in faux introspection.
His companion was much fairer in features than the young man but stuck out just as bright as his tracksuit. They made for such an odd pairing if Trunks had ever seen one. She had long blue hair that flowed down to her waist. She held a thin frame as well that spoke of a life lived easily. Trunks refused to mention the attire as he resolved to keep his eyes above shoulder level for the sake of his sanity. How that was skirt was just beyond him.
Looking down at the request in his hand, he read, "advanced class only" scrawled at its bottom. Maybe he shouldn't, but thinking about what Luna had said, he should at least try.
Taking a sigh, he still decided on asking; either way, he would see to extending a helping hand if they wanted it. Either way, he wouldn't be broken up over it if not.
"Here, he comes!" He heard the girl whisper loudly as if trying to seem inconspicuous about it.
"Why are you whispering so loudly, Aqua?" Despite his statement, the guy did the same. "Don't you know he can probably hear you?" Noticing Trunks right in front of him, he offered a weak wave.
"I can hear just fine, actually." Trunks walked up with an easy-going smile to disarm the two. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything…"
"No, not at all!" The boy interrupted quickly; his partner seemed to look with minimal interest. He noticed a copy of Aqua's request in Trunks' hand and shifted to a more composed, confident look. "So, you've noticed our request?"
Trunks nodded, which caused the young man to grin before extending a hand. "I'm Kazuma, and this is Aqua. You can pay her no mind."
"What do you mean by that?" Aqua yelled indignantly. "Explain now!"
"All she does is yell, as you can tell." Kazuma shook his head, pointedly ignoring the girl's growing ire. Trunks half expected her to leap out of her seat. Instead, she elected to turn her back wholly from them two.
"What's your name if you don't mind my asking?" Kazuma pushed forward, nonplussed about his friend's temperament.
"Trunks." He replied, while shaking Kazuma's hand. "Saw the notice and thought I'd see what's it about. Though I am not an advance class—"
"—Denied." Aqua interrupted flatly with a quick turn in her seat, catching Trunks off guard by the abruptness in her decision as well as Kazuma.
"What are you on about Aqua?" He pointed to himself emphatically. "I mean, I'm just an adventurer class. We shouldn't be so damn picky right out of the gate!"
"B—But, we need GOOD help, Kazuma!" she defended rather vehemently. "Advance classes are the strongest! Look at me! I'm an archpriest!"
"Yea, I'm gonna have to veto because, for an advanced class, you are about as useless as they come," Kazuma replied blankly. "I mean, do you want to be covered in slime again?" Whatever that statement meant, it seemed to have the desired effect of quickly mollifying the girl.
"N—No!" She recoiled at the thought as her body trembled reflexively. "And I'm not useless, you big oaf!" The poor girl looked to be on the verge of tears before the dam finally kicked and let loose the torrent of cries that belied her hair and name.
"Glad that's cleared up." The dynamic of these two had left Trunks quite stunned as the growing doubt of going along with them seemed more tempting the more he watched them interact. Aqua's cries were also beginning to grab the attention of onlookers as he heard various whispers start to float.
"Kazuma is a brute."
"Has he no heart? That poor girl, she must be trapped in some sort of abusive relationship."
"Why isn't the new guy doing anything? Don't tell me—"
"—he's in on it too!?"
"What do they say about handsome men?"
"Less the character, twice the fool!"
Alarmed, Trunks began to back away from the scene to further put distance to his involvement, which he was screaming inwardly that there was none. Honestly, the way things looked, it was a recipe for disaster in miscommunication. Almost reminds him of the soap opera reruns he caught his mom watching a few times. His cheeks turned red. What kind of imagination do these women have!?
"You've got it all wrong!" Kazuma shrieked as he grabbed Aqua's shoulders and began shaking her violently. "Tell them they got the wrong idea!"
"I'm sorry!" She sputtered dizzyingly as her head rocked back and forth.
Sensing that he wouldn't win them over with Aqua's convenient breakdown, he offered a weak smile to the group of young women. He hoped it would placate their gossip and opinion. And the effect was the opposite of the desire as the group screamed at even being in Kazuma's gaze before taking off to various places in hopes to never catch his eyes again.
Poor guy, Trunks thought. He watched as Kazuma turned woodenly towards him with a ghost of a smile.
"You believe me, right?" Kazuma breathed out almost wordlessly. Trunks could only offer a sympathetic smile in return as he ushered him to sit down and finally talk business. "Sure, pal. I'll believe you."
After a few minutes and order of drinks, Aqua finally relented from her despotic mood. Much to Trunks' surprise, the girl actually did an entire one-eighty.
"So, what class are you then?" Kazuma started as he sipped his beer.
"I—I'm a 'Monk' actually." Trunks scratched his cheek. He quirked an eyebrow at Aqua's skeptical look but decided to say nothing on it. It would do better to just focus on this business matter than whatever personal misgivings the girl seemed to have against him inside her head. He didn't want to see another blowout like before with him as the intended target.
"Hoh? Really?" That seemed to pique the young man's interest as he leaned intently over the table. "Close quarters type. Have any experience?"
"I think so—yea." Well, not in the class, no, but in general…He felt pretty competent. He watched as Aqua stood up and leaned over the table. Her eyes bore into him as she extended out her hand.
"Fine." She looked not too happy in saying that, though, and he wasn't sure if he was the target of her irritation or Kazuma. "But let us look check your card to be sure."
Kazuma shot her glare at how crass she was acting in front of a complete stranger before adopting a more apologetic look. "Sorry, but I have to agree with her on this one. I'd like to see your stats as well. If that's okay?"
"Not a problem." Nodding quickly to the demand, Trunks handed them the newly printed card that Luna gave him earlier.
Kazuma and Aqua huddled over his card on the table. For a few minutes, neither said a word as they stood silently over it.
"What kind of stats are those!?" Aqua exploded finally, grabbing tufts of her own hair, she pointed a shaky finger at Trunks. "It makes no sense! How can he have better stats than me!?"
Trunks watched silently as she went on a tirade; apparently, Aqua was having a hard time reconciling whatever idea she had in her head about him…or herself. He wasn't quite sure of which. All he knew was that he would avoid throwing fuel to that fire by staying silent altogether.
"Say, Trunks." He looked down to see a confused expression on Kazuma's face as the guy handed him back his card. "Why did you pick the 'Monk' class?"
"It's the only one that seemed natural to me." He shrugged simply before taking a drink, completely missing the twitch coming from Kazuma.
"Natural?" Kazuma muttered before shaking his head. He quickly composed himself as he focused back on the matter at hand.
"To be honest, we're having trouble with this quest and could use the extra hand. That's if you're still interested?"
"What about your friend?" Trunks pointed at Aqua, who had now resigned herself to sitting quietly at her seat. Her gaze seemed distant as if her very soul had left her body.
"Don't worry about her." Kazuma sighed. "She'll get over it. So, what do you say?" He gave Trunks an easy-going smile as he extended his hand once more to the young man.
"Sure." Trunks nodded. While definitely odd and downright abrasive, there was a feeling of earnestness between the two. He gripped Kazuma's hand in return. "Why not?"
Things are looking up, and as far as Trunks was concerned, forward momentum. He needed to master his class and unlock the power within. Maybe, with the help of these two, he could do just that.
"Hoh? So if you accepted the Monk, then what about an Arch Mage?"
Both young men turned to see the owner of said voice, and Trunks visibly jerked. She—well, Trunks wasn't entirely confident in what he was seeing. She looked like a witch from a Halloween special. She was petite and sported an eyepatch and seemed to love the color red. It was shockingly the most dominant color of her garment. But that wasn't what made him uncomfortable.
Why was she posing like that?
XXXXX
I don't do deadlines. I'd never make it on time if I did. Probably took me so long to write this first chapter because I wanted to be sure that this is where I wanted to go with it. I've outlined the entire story. Somewhat. So you can be confident as to why things are the way they are. I know I'm gonna catch some flak with 'sealing' his Ki reserves. My logic was that breaking a new seal came with EXP and leveling which would come very fair to the world he's in. If not, he could just walk up to the devil king's castle and blast it down. End of Story. Maybe good for a one shot, but nothing much after that. I have no idea when I'll publish the second chapter, it's coming. Eventually. If you like the story, please leave a review and follow it for updates. Or favorite it as well, that works to. Hope you stay well and I also hope you enjoyed this chapter.
~AH