Dear Readers:
Thank you so much for your patience! I can tell some of you have been diligently checking in for this next bit, and I'm proud to present to you the next chapter of Goddess of Darkness, chock full of action and emotion. Grab the Kleenex, because just writing this sent me into tears several times, never mind having to reread and edit for clarity. (sniffle sniffle)
Happy reading!
"DOJI, GET BACK HERE!"
Toriega quivered fitfully, watching the boy and his firedrake soar higher and further away until they finally disappeared behind a puff of clouds. A bitter fury frothed at the tip of his tongue, and he struggled with the urge to scream and curse at the Grand Elder; to tell him that his trust in Doji was nothing but a delusion, another impossible gamble tied to the same tired vow, 'I promise.'
Sanshiva had promised to master her power and return safely with Dokira, but in doing so managed to leave behind a trail of trouble leading straight back to her people. Doji had promised to stave off the scaled invaders in whatever way he could, but left the Grand Elder a trembling, emotional wreck, and had failed to explain his reasoning for embarking on what could most certainly be called a suicide mission. Moori had promised not to keep any further secrets, but somehow still had a few left since the unfamiliar poem the little one recited had somehow sent the old man into hysterics. A sweltering mixture of rage and disbelief began to sear its way through every fiber of Toriega's being as he watched the elder crumple to the ground, sobbing and heaving into his palms.
In the days following the female Namekian's departure, the warrior had found himself wondering why his father hadn't convinced the Grand Elder to simply wish away the darkness that dwelled within Sanshiva. The Great Porunga was surely more than capable of granting such a request, and to Toriega it seemed foolish to trust anyone – let alone a person in the most emotional stage of their life – to keep their composure so far away from home and without a single shred of real experience in societal expectations or behavior.
'It's like… Sending a child to play in a cave full of poisonous snakes,' he thought. 'And she's brought them right back home…'
After pestering both Moori and Porunaga repeatedly, he'd been given cryptic responses and curt replies that had only left him with more questions than answers. His father mentioned that although Sanshiva's demonic form was formidable, her presence would one day become a pivotal force in their people's continued survival; Moori's last offering on the matter was that the young woman's existence was likely a precursor to something much more sinister than Frieza. The Grand Elder's failure to elucidate on his ominous speculation, coupled with Porunaga's change of heart in the aftermath of the young woman's terrifying debut only served to cement the warrior's state of bewilderment.
Lost in thought, the young man jumped when Moori sniffled loudly beside him, groaning as he got up from the ground, a small 'pop' coming from his knee.
"What was Doji on about?"
Moori gulped and wiped his face, eyes still red from crying. "For hours after she'd hatched, I… I struggled to give her a name. She had such bright eyes, and such a big smile for so small a child. I held her, sang to her, and meditated with her, and both her name and that poem came through to me in a vision while she was asleep. I laid her down and left for a small while, seeking to share what I'd seen, but… I was afraid that if I'd said anything plainly, her life would have ended before it ever really began. Dokira must have told Doji about that poem, thinking the boy would be able to make some sense of it one day. He is the smart one, after all…"
Toriega scoffed loudly and retorted, "You know that none of this would be happening if she had been stripped of her power. Dokira would be alive, Doji wouldn't be on his way to getting slaughtered, and Sanshiva would be here, with you, right now."
"No," Moori said softly. "No, she wouldn't."
"What are you talking about? She would! You wouldn't have had to put any of us through what you did just for the sake of keeping her around—"
"Toriega… You are telling me I should have killed my daughter."
"What?! NO! I—"
T he Grand Elder let out a heavy sigh and interjected, "Yes, young man, you are. To strip a person of their power is to rob them of everything they are or ever will be. Had I asked Porunga to take the darkness from my daughter, my child would no longer exist as I know her."
"Now, just you wait a damned minute—"
"Tell me… Do you truly believe that your father would be so quick to do that to you if you were in my daughter's position? That he would dare ask the dragon to take everything that makes you who you are – your smile, your voice, your very spirit – just to hold you close?"
Toriega shot the old man an incredulous look. He believed his father a great deal more dutiful towards his people than Moori had been, and spat, "If it meant keeping the rest of us safe, I know he would."
Moori chuckled weakly and said, "Ask yourself what it is to love as a father does, and then tell me if you would ever think yourself ready to let go of the only star in your sky."
The warrior squinted at him, suspicious of his choice of words. "Wait… What do you mean by 'only?'"
The Grand Elder's hand moved to his throat, and he stared at the ground, a profound sorrow flooding his body as the memories of every attempt at reproduction came rushing back. For years he had tried to give Sanshiva a sibling, someone to learn and grow alongside, someone to be with her every time he had to leave the little girl crying in her doorway as he went to tend to his duties. But for all those years Moori labored in vain, his throat hot and hoarse from the pain, body overwhelmed with grief, heart just as hollow as the eggs he finally coughed up every single time. He clasped tight at his throat as if to stop the sobs from bursting forth and yet still they came. He fell to the ground once more and wept uncontrollably, years' worth of disappointment in himself as both a parent and a leader bubbling up from deep within.
"I've t-tried so m-many times," Moori sniveled. "S-so many times, but Sanshiva is... She's all I had, and she's gone, Toriega, gone… I just wanted to l-let her live, just like you or m-me and instead, I f-failed her and m-my people, in one fell swoop…"
Fury soon melted into pity as Toriega watched the Grand Elder fall apart again. The young man couldn't fathom the pain of coming up empty-handed after reproduction. To his knowledge, no other elders had shown any issues in doing so. Porunaga, himself, had made it a regular practice – sometimes upwards of two or three times a year – to bring new life to their world. In the time they had settled on New Namek, Porunaga had fathered over thirty-six children, all of them living freely and happily amongst each other. It wasn't until Toriega pictured his kin, huddled together in the sanctuary beneath the elder's home as the hour ticked by, that he understood the pain that both Moori and Sanshiva had silently endured for over a decade.
The Namekians were a species built upon connection. Like the sturdy, intertwined branches at the top of every ajisa tree, every person served their purpose, every one of them a source of seemingly infinite and flourishing strength unto the other. Solid emotional and spiritual bonds formed in one generation carried over into the next, a cycle that emboldened the descendants of that lineage and created powerful warriors, intelligent crafters, masterful storytellers, resourceful caretakers, and patient teachers. Isolation and meditation taught discipline and self-sufficiency, but love and companionship formed the foundations for a long and fulfilling life.
Sanshiva, by virtue of what she was, had been forced to make do with living vicariously through her father until the loneliness became too much to bear, spurring her transformation and revealing her in the worst way possible. Moori had but one person to truly confide in all that time, and during all those years Porunaga, himself, was unable to draw from the wellspring of wisdom shared between the other elders without endangering the only girl their kind had ever known. The seclusion had destroyed them each in different ways, with Sanshiva having suffered the most of all.
"You were r-right, Toriega... I-it's all m-my fault," Moori sobbed. "My daughter was forced to leave, Dokira is dead, Doji is alone, mine and your f-father's credibility as leaders are under question, and… None of you will ever trust me the same way again. I was selfish and foolish and… and just so damned stupid!" Moori punched at the ground, unable to feel anything else but shame as he repeated it over and over again. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…"
Toriega moved to kneel by the elder and tenderly placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently and realizing with anguish that the Grand Elder had, in fact, done his very best to fulfill his obligations to both his people and his child. The man had spent years sacrificing so much of his health and happiness in the process and it showed in the bags under his eyes, the wrinkles on his cheeks, and the dullness of his skin. He had given it his all and had received nothing in return, save for the sparse memories of his only child, the scorn of his brethren for his secretive actions and the consequences thereof, and the agony of a heart torn wide open time and time again. Somehow, the Grand Elder had found the strength to carry forward; he'd smiled in the face of adversity and masked the pain under layers of kind actions and soothing words, his people none the wiser to the silent and heavy burden he chose to carry out of love for every single one of them, but especially his only star, his Sanshiva.
Toriega sighed deeply and held out his hand. The elder slowly looked up from his palms and took it, groaning as he pulled up and yet another 'snap' came from his knee. The warrior patted off the dirt from the elder's knees before placing his hand once more on Moori's shoulder.
"Give them to me," he said, hand outstretched.
"Wh—"
"Come on," he said, wagging his fingers. "Give them to me. I'll make sure Hama and Kiba get them immediately. I need to catch up to Doji."
"But—"
Toriega wagged a finger, shushing the elder as he said, "I'm starting to understand what my old friend meant when he said that sometimes, you just… You know what you're supposed to do, even when it's hard and you'd rather run the other way. You ran with your instincts when it came to being an elder and a father. Even if it didn't work out the way you wanted, even though it hurt like hell to keep going, you did it anyway. You, Sanshiva, even my father… You all made your sacrifices, held fast to the promises you made to each other just like he did, even if it was easier to try and wish it all away."
The elder fumbled, his body still shaking through the tears as he reached into his pocket and gingerly handed over the trinkets.
Toriega stared at them and said, "It feels like we've only just started here on New Namek and I'd rather grab Doji and his firedrake and just… hide. I'd rather run from those men because it's… easier. But nothing good comes easy. Even Doji knows that." He pocketed the charms and stared at the elder, slowly rising into the air as he commanded, "Stay inside, and don't open the door for anyone unless they give you the password."
The Grand Elder blinked in confusion and called up to him, "B-but… What would that be?!"
"Who was the smartest before Doji was born," Toriega called back, soaring higher into the sky. "Who was the kindest, the bravest, the best of us all?"
Moori's mind flashed the image of a little boy, dressed in dark clothes eerily similar to Doji's, a single pen always tucked behind his ear and a tattered journal in hand. Gone missing for over a decade and presumed dead, the Grand Elder gasped as he remembered the name of Elder Hiro's youngest child at the time of their relocation to New Namek.
"Hasana," Toriega yelled, a smile dancing on his lips as he looked down one last time. "It was Hasana!"
"Well, so much for that hour…"
Saba tossed aside the half-eaten remains of a well-muscled torso, carefully wiping away the blood from his mouth and licking his fingers. He rolled his eyes as he glanced at his brother, who sat cross-legged on the ground holding another Namekian's arm, blood dribbling from his mouth as he chewed sloppily.
"It's not my fault," Pogi said, mouth full and bits of flesh flying out. "They're just so… So good."
"Yeah, well save some for the rest of us," he said, poking at the back of his mouth and flicking away a shred of green skin.
"Huh?" Pogi looked up from the morbid morsel and swallowed as he wiped the blood from his thick lips. "'Us?' Father's not coming here, is he?"
"Nah, but I'm sure he'll ask if we… ah… 'sampled the local fare,' so to speak," he said, nodding slightly. "It's time I gave him a status report, anyways." He spat out a chip of bone from his mouth and stood tall.
Pogi nodded and bit down hard, blood spurting from the arm as he ripped another chunk away with his pointed teeth.
"Ugh… Come on, you fucking slob. He'll want to talk to you, too."
"Aw, but I'm still hungry," his brother whined. Pogi wiped his face, the blood smearing and leaving a dark purple stain across his lips, cheek, and the back of his hand. Saba rolled his eyes again.
"Oh, shut up, Pogi," he retorted, pacing back to the ship. "Get up."
Dejected, his brother nodded and stood up, quickly taking one last bite before throwing the arm aside and wiping his face again, unknowingly spreading the stain further across his face.
Saba looked around at the mess he and his brother had made and chortled. The two of them had grown hungrier even after finishing what remained of Ishida and decided that fifty minutes was enough. With ravenous force and furious speed, they laid waste to the last of the warriors in the village, six beaten and mangled bodies strewn about, bloody puddles forming beneath the Namekians' remains. When the last warrior had fallen and the elder himself had been tossed far across the village and into Doji's empty home, Pogi and Saba had taken their choice of cuts, slowly tearing each of the men apart and savoring the taste of anguish left in every muscle and sinew. Pogi had devoured more than his fair share, leaving a pile of broken bones at the foot of the ajisa sapling and blood-drenched shreds of the Namekians' clothing by the blue stone well. Saba had only eaten what he felt was appropriate; enough to curb the bloodlust for the time being.
Saba stepped underneath the ship and looked towards the wrecked home at the far end of the village, wondering if the old man was still alive.
"You don't want to grab that other one," he asked, brows raised. "He's probably still pretty fresh compared to the rest of these poor bastards."
"Nah," his brother replied. "I'd bet a thousand credits that one tastes like an old boot."
As the two ascended into the ship and the rampway clicked shut behind them, Porunaga coughed loudly from the floor of Doji's room, a plume of dust jetting upwards with his breath.
Crushed glass and concrete littered the dark tiled floors. Doji's well-kept collection of creatures was gone, most having escaped from their crystalline containers the moment he had come crashing through the home, others dying under the weight of the old man's body when he landed hard against the shelves. The larger pictures and animal studies that had once hung proudly in the boy's room now littered the ground and swirled in the breeze. Sunlight streamed through the shattered ceiling, warming Porunaga's face as he blinked rapidly through his cloudy vision and winced, the pain from shards of glass and splinters of wood in his back and head almost too much to bear. Groaning as he pushed himself up from the floor, Porunaga felt the bits of detritus that fell away from his body and shook frightfully as the soft clatter seemed to echo across the strange silence that had fallen over the village.
'Oh, my gods,' he thought, heart racing. 'What… What happened?!'
Eyes closed, he reached out to the energies huddled together in the sanctuary under his home, grateful they had been untouched; he felt the invaders' presence from within the ship at the center of the village, but no longer could he sense his eldest, the six that had stayed beside him while they waited anxiously for Toriega to return with the Grand Elder.
With a heavy feeling in his chest, Porunaga took cautious steps through the ruined house. His stomach churned, the stench of torn flesh and cooling blood assaulting his nostrils, the horrific evidence of a ghastly massacre dispersed haphazardly across the settlement. The old man hobbled forward, tears pooling in his eyes as he slowly spotted the mutilated remains of his children. He retched and covered his mouth with a shaking hand, glancing hurriedly at the ship before running towards his home. Tears fell in thick rivulets as his heart broke clean in two.
'Toriega… Come home, please,' he pleaded. 'Your big brothers, they… They're gone, Toriega… Gone…'
He wrenched the door open and shut it softly behind him, sobbing into his hands as he slid to his knees, the images of the slain Namekians seared into his retinas as he rocked back and forth and held himself tightly.
'Please,' he reached out again. 'I can't lose you, too…'
Knowing he couldn't face the others in such a state, Porunaga tried to soften his cries. But as his thoughts turned to little Doji, the elder sputtered and groaned into his hands once more, struggling to keep quiet. Though he knew Dokira's boy was capable of surviving well enough on his own, Porunaga silently cursed himself for not having heeded Kiba nor Hama, whose deep connection to the little one he could no longer ignore. The invaders had made it abundantly clear that they were willing to destroy them all unless they revealed Sanshiva's exact location and the elder trembled at the thought of Doji joining the dead at a mere five years old. Porunaga hunched over and toiled against the urge to scream as his tears puddled on the floor.
Whimpering, he crawled along the ground until reaching the center of the space, staring despondently at a single star etched into one of the tiles. He sniffled and gently pressed his finger against it; the star began to glow with a faint sapphire light and the tile shrank back, revealing a dark chasm some hundred and fifty meters deep, neatly covered by a square glass platform. Porunaga gazed through the glass at the pinpricks of lamplight at the bottom of the passage, breathing shakily as he clambered atop the platform.
'Toriega… it's come full circle, hasn't it?' Head hung low, he waited for a response as the elevator descended and the entryway closed above, but nothing came back. 'Toriega, I'm so sorry…' Yet still, no reply. 'Doji is… just like him. You know that, don't you? Don't let the boy stand against this alone like Hasana had to, I beg of you…' Porunaga wept in silence as the platform continued its descent.
The hidden passageway soon led to a colossal ovular chamber – nearly five times the size of the modest home above – lined with intricately carved turquoise-hued stone that gently sloped and blended back into the ground. Upon each brick were engraved passages of the Namekians' legends and historical accounts, alongside numerous detailed glyphs and inset statuettes depicting several scenes and a great many people and legendary creatures. Roots of the ajisa trees by Porunaga's abode had grown far into the ground, snaking through the dirt and between the carved stone, like earthen veins. The soft blue light from lamps hung from the ceiling filled the space, giving the sanctuary a dreamlike atmosphere as their shadows danced beneath them, a stark contrast to the nightmare he had barely left behind.
Lifting his head, tears in his eyes, he found himself gazing upon the faces of three dozen terrified Namekians. Among them, Tobi and Motoki, whose sons raced ahead of the group, flinging themselves at the elder, nervously bouncing about and pelting him with questions as they pulled at his robes. The rest of the group began chattering nervously, sensing the absence of the warriors above and noting the pained look on their leader's face.
"What happened," Kiba asked, panicked. "Where's Doji?!"
"Is the Grand Elder coming," Hama questioned shakily. "Is he going to make those bad men go away?"
Motoki gave the elder a sad look and sighed. "Boys," he said, "…give him a moment, would you?"
"Where did they come from, anyways" Hama probed. "Why are they looking for Sanshiva?"
"Where are Usemi and Ishida," Kiba asked.
"And Kotoko and Sambo?"
"Joshu and Kaede?"
"Boys," Tobi pleaded, "Please, stop."
Porunaga's shoulders began to shake fitfully at the sound of his sons' names. His stomach felt tied into a series of hard knots and the lump in his throat seemed to expand. He struggled to breathe, his body permeated with terrible, incendiary anguish, and his eyes burned as he fought the tears.
"What about Toriega?" Hama pulled harder.
"What about Doji?" Kiba did, too.
"Where is he?" Hama pushed.
"Is he okay?" Kiba shoved harder.
"Is Himura with him," they asked together.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Motoki bellowed, huffing angrily as he pulled the boys back and grabbed them up in sturdy arms, carrying them to the far end of the chamber, where the rest of the children sat huddled together exchanging stories.
Tobi looked over his shoulder, watching briefly as the portly man reprimanded the boys, wagging his finger and whispering angrily, his furious and hushed voice filling the space like a thousand angry snakes. Watching as the thickset Namekian trudged away, Tobi sighed again, turning back to Porunaga and gently coaxing him away from the platform and into a tight embrace as the glass floated back up the passage. Fully aware of the loss of his brothers, knowing his father and leader wouldn't allow himself to grieve any further in the presence of the children if only to stave off further questions, he pulled the elder aside to a wall just beside the silently fuming Motoki.
Tobi knew how desperate Porunaga had become to keep them safe in the wake of Dokira's death. He had taken extra measures, asking for the warriors to remain alert and for the children to begin their formal combat training as soon as possible. He'd made numerous preparations – carefully planned escape routes and well-devised diversionary tactics – to ensure there would always be a way out of danger. Though these arrangements had not panned out the way the elder had hoped during the scaled invaders' brief time on their world, Tobi knew that Porunaga had tried his hardest to protect his kin and understood it was all anyone could ever have asked of him. His brethren had fought with every ounce of their hard-earned strength to that same end.
Desperate to ease the heartache, Tobi looked around at the walls as he held on to Porunaga, who continued to quiver erratically. A peculiar story – one not known even to the Earthlings – stared back at him from the stone. He pulled away from the elder, gliding his soft hand across the inscriptions until resting his hand on the statuette of a little boy, not much younger than Doji, a pen behind his ear and a journal in his hand.
"In times like this," he said softly to Porunaga, "…it's easier to find the strength to move forward when I'm reminded of the courage of my kin. Quite a few of the little ones here haven't yet heard the story of the boy who bought time and maybe… Maybe it would be wise to share that with them now. It might help them feel a little bit better... It might help you, too."
Porunaga nodded, tracing his nail along the bottom of the statuette. "Would… would you be willing to tell it this time," the elder asked quietly. "I… I don't know if I can…"
Smiling and nodding, Tobi cleared his throat, catching the rest of the group's attention, willing his energy forth through his fingertips and deep into the stone.
"You all know the story of Frieza," the storyteller began, "…the tale of how he came to our planet in search of the dragon balls and how he very nearly destroyed us all if it weren't for the Earthlings' help. But what some of you might not know is that just before the Earthlings arrived, one of our own had tried his hardest to distract and confuse one of Frieza's men, leading him astray and thereby stalling the tyrant's hunt, all by himself."
The Namekians watched in awe as the glyphs began to glow – a gorgeous purple hue set against the cerulean stone – and the statuette of the little boy took on a life of its own, hopping away from the wall with a strange crackling sound before posing confidently in the air, chest puffed out and tiny fists resting atop his hips.
'Tada,' the figurine mouthed. It winked and grinned wide, and the children giggled in unison.
Tobi's voice seemed to permeate the group's bodies, dulcet and dreamlike as the carved characters on the walls just behind pulsed in tandem with his speech. He'd heard the story so many times himself and smiled as the little ones stared at him in anticipation.
"Hasana was the three-year-old son of Elder Hiro, whose village was about a hundred and fifty miles south of our own on the old world. While searching in the southern wetlands for his next discovery – just as Doji left us a few days ago to do the same – he encountered a blue-skinned alien, a powerful warrior known only as Zarbon."
Tobi began to weave his hands one over the other, wisps of shimmering ki threading together to form an ethereal landscape. The stage of little Hasana's tale was a modestly sized ghostly image of a rich and flat marsh with great swathes of tall blue grass that swayed to and fro, large glittering pools of turquoise-hued water, and deep pits of mud and clay. Curious eyes watched on as little Hasana landed in the marsh and waded through the water with eager eyes and his journal tucked tightly in the crook of his arm.
The storyteller then stretched out his hand to another figurine on the wall, the likeness of a strange and slender armored man with long hair tied loosely behind his neck, a delicate headpiece with a single glimmering gem at his forehead, and a curious device fitted to his left ear. His eyes opened abruptly and with a loud crackling sound his statuette separated from its niche. Zarbon crossed his arms as he joined little Hasana on the ground, a malicious smile spread across his smooth face as he waved his hair over his shoulder.
"Zarbon ordered Hasana to escort him to someone who knew where the dragon balls were. Though Hasana had tried to deny his knowledge of the wish-granting spheres entirely, Zarbon immediately saw through the guise and threatened to end the boy's life if he chose not to comply. After all, we're not that good at lying, right?"
The little ones nodded and chortled together. Tobi grinned as the statuette shrank back slightly, holding fast to the journal before flipping it open and hurriedly sifting through its pages.
"Yet still, Hasana resolved to try again. Acting on a mixture of instinct and quick wit," Tobi narrated, "…the boy pretended that the book in his hands had been given to him by the leader of our people at the time, Grand Elder Guru, and expertly wove a tall tale to fool the man. Hasana told him that the dragon balls were hidden behind a veil of ancient and powerful magic, citing that a series of tasks needed to be completed before their village's dragon ball would manifest, and that these tasks would become increasingly difficult as the rest of the dragon balls were revealed and collected. And though Zarbon remained suspicious of the young Namekian, he had no choice but to follow, his knowledge of our world very limited, and his time of the essence."
Soft 'oohs' and 'aahs,' reverberated around the chamber as the children watched the little Hasana show Zarbon his book full of strange and unfamiliar symbols, and the man nodded. The two walked in place as the ghostly landscape around them changed, Tobi proud of the illusion of movement and the eagerness in the group's faces.
"Hasana guided the alien invader deep into the marsh, through knee-high mud and dense, sticky brush, saying that the man's first task in uncovering the dragon balls would be to defeat the Great Sambojin, a gigantic frog that lived in the marshlands, defending its territory with its ruthless strength and voracious appetite. Hasana advised the man that he'd have to find seven bundles of jinyasa root – a plant that the Great Sambojin was said to despise – and wear them in a braid around his neck before facing the beast. For hours they searched for all seven roots, the invader severely dissatisfied with having been forced to wallow in the mud."
The figurine of Zarbon reached deep into the mud, a sour look stretched across his face as he pulled out a barbed orange root vegetable by its thorny and tangled shoots, his armor and skin coated in a watery mixture of clay and plant matter. Hasana guided him further into the wetlands, pointing out six more of the spiky plants, Zarbon plucking each one from the mud in disgust until all were collected. He braided them together with their soggy tendrils and placed them gingerly around his neck.
"Ooh, this is my favorite part," Hama whispered excitedly. Kiba held a single finger to his lips, eyeing the younger children beside them who'd not yet heard the tale.
"Don't spoil it," he murmured. "It's my favorite, too."
Tobi grinned wide, having heard the boys as he continued. "What the invader didn't know is that the Great Sambojin loved jinyasa root for its sweet and spicy taste and crunchy mouthfeel. What he also didn't know…" He paused for dramatic effect, watching with glee as the children's eyes widened with expectancy. "…Was that raw jinyasa root can cause a horrible rash if touched directly against the skin!"
The entire group – children, teens, and adults together – laughed heartily as they watched Zarbon scratch relentlessly at his hands, neck, and face, a horribly angry look spread across his otherwise handsome face. He reluctantly followed the little Hasana further into the marsh, the land seemingly sloping downwards, thick clouds of fog closing in around them the farther they went, the colors of the land darkening.
With a great crackle and snap, another statue came tumbling down from the wall, hopping loudly to the ground upon four thick legs attached to a wide and bumpy body, five times Zarbon's size. The Great Sambojin's long, springy antennae and chunky, short tail wagged in excitement as it bounded in circles around the group, showing off before tightly coiling its body and rolling back to the dreamy stage, fitting neatly in a gap within the imaginary marsh as Hasana and Zarbon stopped in front of it.
"Thinking Hasana had not brought them anywhere closer to Sambojin, or the first of the seven dragon balls, Zarbon demanded at once to know where the creature was, and Hasana grinned and turned to greet Sambojin in the old tongue, further confusing the invader. Hasana had called to the frog in a primeval dialect that we no longer use – what our people once called the Breath of the Ancient Ones – but one that the creature understood exclusively." Tobi gestured toward the little Hasana, and the statuette raised its arms high, its mouth moving as he narrated for it. "Pa'ami da kyotten parita no jinyasa, O Zubyarii Sambojin. Kannitte purepuro ii ne," he said. "Hasana had called out, 'I brought you some jinyasa, O Great Sambojin. I hope you like it!'"
Tobi extended a hand toward Sambojin, who at once uncoiled himself and faced the two visitors. His antennae wiggled and his stomach growled slightly, the bulbous tip of a long and stretchy tongue hanging out as he stared at Zarbon and drooled. The great frog lunged forward, splashing a great phantom wave of mud and clay behind him, and chased the alien. Hasana sprang away, laughing as Zarbon toiled against the colossal creature, scratching feverishly at himself all the while. Sambojin let loose his lengthy tongue and chased the man in circles around the group, the Namekians giggling together until at last the statues came back to their stage.
"Zarbon was fast, but no match for the Great Sambojin, his huge tongue lashing forward with all the speed and strength of a thousand frogs. For nearly an hour, the invader resisted the creature's attempts to capture him, until finally, Sambojin leaped high into the air and finally swallowed the man whole."
Sambojin leaped high once more, snapping his wide mouth shut around the alien menace; he landed heavily, ribbitting loudly, the strange sound thrumming through the ground. Little Hasana raced towards the great frog, bowing deeply and smiling from ear to ear. The children cheered and clapped, happy that the little boy's diversion had paid off until they realized with sadness that the boy's victory had been short-lived. The giant frog began to wince and shake uncontrollably; Hasana trembled nervously, worried that the creature was in pain after having consumed the armored invader. He paced forward to rub his hand softly against the giant frog's rough-skinned belly, a guilty look spreading slowly across his little face.
"Unbeknownst to Hasana, Zarbon had not been defeated," Tobi said, the children now aghast. "Instead, he'd been thoroughly agitated, and as Hasana felt the man's energy from within the frog's stomach, growing stronger and stronger, his heart stopped. Helpless, the little one could only watch on in terror as the man burst out from within the great frog's stomach in a horrifying flash of ki."
As the frog cringed, the statue cracked and groaned, and with a blinding flash of light Sambojin was reduced to rubble. What remained behind looked markedly different from the warrior the storyteller had first introduced. Covered in head to toe with a phantom mixture of viscous stomach acid, syrupy saliva, and thick black mud, Zarbon's lithe frame had inflated to massive proportions, muscles rippling underneath his armor, his face wider, rougher, and much uglier. The beastly Zarbon tore off the jinyasa braid and threw it at the boy, his mouth moving furiously as he shook his fist at little Hasana.
"'I've defeated your blasted frog, boy, and you've wasted enough of my time,' Zarbon screamed. 'Tell me where the dragon ball is this instant, or I'll kill you!' Then," Tobi said, his graceful hands swaying before him, "…the little one turned to the blue menace and told him, 'Do your worst, you squat-faced, sulfur-smelling, lizard-brained dandy! Come hell or high water, I promise you won't ever get to make your wish!'"
The children gulped in unison, afraid of what came next. Hama and Kiba sighed together, knowing full well how the story ended.
"And Zarbon did just that," Tobi continued with a slight twinge of sadness in his voice. "The little one took a deep breath and closed his eyes, knowing it would be his last as the invader fired away."
Zarbon charged up a blast at the center of his palm, a wide circle of glowing energy forming as he aimed dead center at the boy's chest. The children whimpered as Hasana collapsed on the ground, a large dark circle upon his little chest, his journal scorched and pen lost in the mud beneath him. The invader's shoulders shook, miming a terrible cackle before flying back into his recess in the wall, a cruel grin spread across his lips one last time before he reverted to his original form and blended back into the stone.
The statuette of little Hasana lay trembling on the ground, a strange golden glow hovering just around its form, eyes alight with bright yellow embers.
"Zarbon had not realized his attack hadn't killed the child instantly, his strength overwhelming but somehow, someway, still not enough to send little Hasana to the gods. So, the boy gathered the last of his energy into his mouth and released it into the sky."
Little Hasana opened his mouth wide, great white beams jutting outwards and gathering together to form a shocking pillar of light that spiraled upwards, filling the chamber with its bright glow. The column of light expanded and contorted, taking the form of the wish-granting dragon before splitting into seven pieces that flew through the air, looking to the group like miniature versions of the dragon balls, themselves, before they finally fizzed and faded. The little Hasana's eyes closed, and Tobi leaned down to pick up the statuette, placing it neatly into the recess in the wall behind him. The rubble of Sambojin's statue gathered itself up and rolled to Tobi's leg like a great stone ball that the storyteller gently placed into its designated spot before returning his gaze to the rest of the group.
"With his last breath, Hasana had found a way to distract them still. It wasn't until half the day was over that Frieza and his men had finally seen through the boy's diversion and found the first of the seven dragon balls." Tobi turned back to the group and smiled. "Hasana was eventually brought back to life with the rest of us after Frieza's demise and stayed here on New Namek for just long enough to tell his story, help lay out the plans for Elder Hiro's new village and build several ships."
He paused, noticing the sad looks on the group's faces as they all thought of how tough it must have been to be Hasana at that moment in time; so small, so helpless, and with only his knowledge to wield as his weapon.
"We tell his story," he said solemnly, "…because, as young as he was, Hasana found the strength to carry on and do his best for the ones he loved. Know that we would never ask for such a sacrifice from any one of you. We simply ask that you always do your best act in love and in kindness, and we pray that one day you will all have the courage and strength to face any trial that might stand before you, just like little Hasana."
Feeling shamefully devoid of that same courage and woefully lacking in the strength needed to shield his people from further harm, Porunaga, at last, broke down again. The group of Namekians stared at their once stoic and resolute leader, now crumpled to the ground, his wispy frame shaking with every sob.
"T-Toriega isn't answering me… I don't even know if he's found Doji yet… I-I'm so sorry, my boys, I'm s-so sorry…"
Tobi and Motoki glanced at one another before pacing to the elder's side, wrapping him in a warm embrace. The adults sat beside them, cross-legged on the ground; the children thanked the storyteller before quietly shuffling away. With the rest of the Namekians distracted, Kiba nodded to Hama and placed a hand on his shoulder, and the little one felt a strange and comforting sensation, an echo of the voice his ears knew too well.
'We have to go.' Kiba raised a brow and pointed up the passageway. 'Doji's gonna need us.'
Hama's eyes widened and he recoiled slightly from the boy's touch. 'Are you crazy?! We can't just leave! What about our dads?!'
Kiba peeked past Hama, watching as the children huddled by the statuette of Hasana and began to imitate his story, each, in turn, pretending to scratch wildly at themselves like Zarbon or hop and skip in circles around the others like Sambojin. The adults were engaged in quiet conversation while seated together just opposite, offering their shaking elder words of comfort and lending some of their energy to heal the cuts and bruises along his neck, head, and back. Tobi busied himself with the elder's robes, working his ki into the fabric. Motoki sat just beside them both, and as his eyes turned from the elder and met with his son's, he nodded.
A smile crept upon Kiba's cheeks. 'They know we don't want to wait here anymore. Not after hearing that story. At least, I know I don't.'
'I… I want to go, but…'
Hama followed his friend's gaze, eyes meeting with Tobi's for a brief moment before a somber farewell filled his mind.
'Hama, my sweet, sweet boy…' Tobi blinked away tears as he continued to fuss over Porunaga's robes. 'Doji is your Hasana. Hasana had brothers and friends, but none were with him when he faced Zarbon. Motoki and I didn't stand by Dokira when the commotion started the night he died, and we've regretted it every day since because we at least had the chance to be there for him. Take this chance. Stand with your brother, honey.'
The little one's eyes billowed with tears. 'But Dad… I'm scared… I want to be with him but I'm… I'm so scared…'
'I know, honey, but when you're frightened, that's when you lean on your brothers; they'll lend you a bit of their courage, and in turn, you'll lend them a bit of your strength. Between the three of you, I have no doubt you'll be brave enough and strong enough to face anything in your way. So, go to him, sweetie. Doji will light the way, I just know he will. Dokira knew it, too.'
Kiba grabbed his Hama's hand and pulled hard, eyes darting between the boy and the passageway above. Together they gave their fathers one last glance before flying upwards as quickly and quietly as they could manage.
Just before the hatchway slid back, they reached out to their fathers in unison.
'We love you! We'll be back as soon as we can, we promise!'
Just beyond the shattered remains of the mountains, Toriega finally spotted Doji and Himura, and at once felt relief inundate every fiber of his being. But as he watched the firedrake speed through the air like a dark flaming bullet, the little Namekian clinging and leaning with her as she weaved through torrents of wind, the feeling was soon replaced by a deluge of shame. Doji was so much younger, and yet still had resolved to help his people in any way he could, not knowing if his plan to lead the invaders astray would ever work; Toriega was much older, and yet the warrior had dared to chip away at the little one's resolve. He had dared to try and stop the only one that both Porunaga and the Grand Elder had lauded so similarly to Hasana, the boy who bought time and whose very courage was etched into the foundations of every village on New Namek.
Toriega called out to him, pushing himself through the sky with as much speed and strength as he could muster to catch up to the boy. "Doji! Doji hold on!"
"Toriega?!"
The warrior flew straight to Doji, snatching him up and off the firedrake's back, holding fast with sturdy arms as a sigh left his lips, the little one blinking in confusion before hugging him back.
"I will never speak to you that way again, Doji, I am so, so sorry… Please forgive me…"
Himura shot the Namekians an equally bewildered look, wondering why the same man that had yelled at her little friend not more than an hour ago had suddenly apologized.
Doji pulled away and spoke in a panicked tone, "I forgive you, but Toriega, we're late! We need to hurry! Joshu, Sambo, Kotoko… There's no way they'll beat those guys—"
"Doji…" Toriega grabbed the boy's hand and somberly shook his head. "They're already gone."
"…What?!"
Toriega's antennae twitched as he held onto Doji, and he telepathically shared the memory of his father's tearful confirmation of the Namekians' deaths, the elder's wispy voice echoing between the two of them. The little one's breath hitched, and he covered his mouth in shock.
"They're really… gone?"
The young man nodded and said, "There will be time to mourn them, but right now we need to stop those men from discovering the sanctuary. Ishida broke one of their scouters, but that doesn't mean they don't have a backup on that ship."
Doji gasped and yipped loudly as he hopped back atop Himura, urging the firedrake forward. Himura roared, leaving Toriega behind as she desperately burst through the air, the heat of her great wings sending large waves outwards from her body.
"Doji, wait!" Toriega willed all his energy forth to catch up and asked, "What exactly is your plan? Do you know how you'll distract them? How you'll stall them on the way to Sanshiva and what you'll tell them?"
The boy's brow furrowed. "I… I haven't thought that far. Do you have any ideas?"
Toriega chuckled and said, "You, not thinking ahead? That's a first."
"Oh, c'mon… It's not like I've had to come up with plans this big before!"
The three of them soared together through the air, the village just a few more miles in the distance, the tops of homes peeking just over the horizon. The boy's heart raced and sweat formed on his brow. The closer they got to the village, the more he trembled. Himura could feel the little one's apprehension, could smell the pheromones of fear, and reached out telepathically to him.
'Doji… Are you sure you want to do this? I don't mind turning around and just hiding with you—'
'No, Himura. Keep going.'
'Why… why are we doing all this, though?'
'Something worse will come our way if I don't. I can feel it. Once we land at the village, I'm going to ask that you go small again and hide.'
Himura chuffed sadly and answered, 'But, I don't… I don't want to hide…'
'I'm sorry, my friend, but I can't risk them hurting you, too. You're too good to put in harm's way. Not on purpose, and not like this.'
Doji glanced at Toriega and said, "If I had something that told me about Earth's myths and legends, I might be able to fool them," the little one mused. "But do we even have anything like that?"
Toriega hummed and tsked. "To be honest, I… I wouldn't know…"
"Would we even have time to search for something like that before they got back off the ship…?"
"I'll keep them distracted," the warrior offered. "It's the least I could do."
"NO! If you fight them—"
"Don't argue with me. You need time and I'm the only one with the buying power to get it for you. But you have to promise me that no matter what happens, you will not try to fight them, and you will not intervene. When you find what you're looking for, you will get their attention and make it clear that you are the only one who can guide them to her."
Doji gulped and nodded just as he looked just past Himura's head, and a strange sickening feeling began to overwhelm him. There were large dark spots on the ground, and what looked like limbs strewn about, but no sign of the warriors. Just by the blue stone well, Doji caught sight of the mountain of bones and the heaps of shredded clothing. He recognized the colors – Usemi's dark green garb and Kotoko's glittering white scarf, Sambo's bright red belt, Joshu's pale blue gi – and cried softly. Toriega landed just beside him and pushed lightly at his back.
"Doji... Go," he whispered hurriedly.
Doji and Himura sped to Porunaga's home, tears streaming from the boy's eyes. He fumbled with the saddle as he tried to unfasten it from underneath the firedrake, heart feeling ready to burst from his chest and his adrenaline at an all-time high. When the saddle finally slipped off he slung it over his shoulder and held out his hand; the firedrake nodded, breathing softly and deeply as her fiery mane faded and she transformed into her smaller self, landing against the little one's palm with a soft thwap.
Doji tucked her by his neck scarf and peeked around, focusing his attention on the ship as the platform began to descend, eyes slowly widening. Toriega paced to stand just by it, arms crossed and ki flaring while he waited for the invaders to exit the vessel. For a moment, Doji could see the pain Toriega masked peeking through in short bursts as the warrior struggled against the grief that washed over him. Resolved to end the nightmare in any way possible, the boy wrenched Porunaga's door open and shut it softly behind him. Staring at the ground, he slowly approached the etched star and kneeled, tracing his nail around the outline.
Himura peeked from over his scarf and asked, 'They're down there, aren't they? Your friends and their dads?'
'My… my brothers… They're not just my friends, they're my brothers. I love them and I feel horrible to leave them like this. But I have to keep my family safe, and that includes you, too. Himura, I need you to find somewhere to hide, and don't come out until I'm gone—'
'No.'
'Himura, please don't argue—'
'NO! You promised we'd NEVER part ways again and I'm holding you to that FOR AS LONG AS WE BOTH SHALL LIVE!' She clung fast to his neck, her tone shifting as she addressed him one more time. 'Also, this is just a thought, but… Why do I get the feeling we're being watched?'
"Huh?" Doji peeked about the space, confused. His eyes wandered to the windows, to the portraits on the walls, and to the shelves filled with books in the corner. It wasn't until he looked up that he realized he was, in fact, being watched, and stared in shock, the saddle slipping from his shoulder and landing softly on the ground. Hovering just above him with their arms and legs splayed across the ceiling like two strange, brightly colored spiders, Hama and Kiba grinned wide before floating down, landing beside the boy and wrapping him in a tight and longing embrace.
"We missed you, little brother," they whispered in unison.
Doji's breath hitched; he knew they'd found his journal, sensed Porunaga had not kept his secret, and in doing so, had inadvertently forced his friends to do the unthinkable and leave the safety of the chamber below. Hot, sorrowful tears fell in heavy rivulets as he hugged them back. He struggled to hold back his cries, still not ready to let them go, neither in body nor in spirit, and felt a strange mixture of joy and grief as he held onto them.
"G-guys," he squeaked, "…you're supposed to be in the sanctuary!"
Kiba backed up, his smile souring as he raised his hand. "I ought to slap the antennas off of you for leaving like that." Doji flinched before Kiba crossed his arms.
"Yeah," Hama hissed, copying Kiba. "Have you any idea how worried we were about you?!"
"Please, guys," Doji pleaded, clasping his hands together, "You have to get back down there—"
"No," the boys cried in unison. They stomped their feet and stared daggers at Doji, their angry breaths louder than the pounding heartbeat in his ears.
"We are not letting you leave us behind again. Now, what's the plan," Kiba asked sternly.
The little one gulped and said, "I… I want to get them lost on the way to Sanshiva. Really, really lost like… Like that story my dad told me a long time ago. You know… the one about Hasana? But…" He paused, peeking out of the window, motioning softly with his hand so that the three of them could kneel just by the sill. He pushed his palms together and drew them outward as he said, "For a much, much longer time."
Kiba and Hama swallowed hard, the urge to run back into the sanctuary nearly consuming them. Doji raised a brow and gave them a skeptical look.
"I didn't want to ask for your help because… If it doesn't work…"
Hama shot him a baffled look. "What do mean? You can't just… pretend they're hiding here?"
"No. Shh," he said, holding a finger to his lips. "Listen."
Toriega was engaged in a quiet yet furious conversation with the invaders and his antennae twitched as he angrily addressed the thinner soldier, Pogi.
"No, we don't have a way to track the ships, but that doesn't give you the right to harm our people. Her little brother will be back soon to tell us what he knows and—"
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Pogi whined, "More waiting?"
"You didn't give us the FULL HOUR in the first place," Toriega snapped. "Have some patience, that's all we ask!"
"Patience?! YOU still got here LATE," Saba quipped. "We've given you damned insects more than enough time!"
"And KILLING is the answer to all this?! One hour is hardly enough time to gather any kind of information, let alone—"
Saba cackled cruelly and said, "Listen, chump, the rest of these slugs have all been dead for a half hour or more and the only reason we left that old one alive is because he probably tastes like shit! Be grateful we haven't just torn your ass apart either!"
"Grateful?!"
"Yep," Pogi chimed in. "To be honest… I'm still hungry, and you look a lot like the one I thought tasted the best anyways. What did the old man call him? Joh-something? Had some good muscle on him, that one. Nice citrusy aftertaste, too."
"HIS NAME WAS JOSHU AND HE WAS MY BROTHER! THEY WERE ALL MY BROTHERS, YOU BOTTOM-FEEDING, BLOOD-SUCKING, CHUM-STINKING BASTARDS!"
Unable to hold back the blistering mixture of grief and anger, the Namekian's fist flew straight towards the soldier's face with all the force he had and Pogi collapsed, several teeth folding away from his gum and into his mouth, blood dribbling out between his thick lips as he reached for his face with shaking hands.
Toriega stretched his arm as long as he could, coiling it tightly around the trunk of Saba's body creamed and writhed in agony as the Namekian squeezed hard, the crackling sound of breaking armor growing louder by the second. Toriega reached for the fin atop Pogi's head, tearing it clean from the skin as he kicked Pogi further away to focus on the writhing invader in his grasp. Saba panicked and craned his neck as far as it would go and bit down hard, dark violet blood spurting wildly from the Namekian's forearm before he tossed the invader up in the sky.
Saba grinned as he righted himself in the air. "Woo! That is fucking delicious," he exclaimed, licking the blood from his lips. "Don't mind if I do!"
'Hurry up, Doji!'
Toriega's psychic cry sent waves of dread across the little one's body. Trembling, the three boys watched from inside the elder's home as Saba chased Toriega, roaring with all the fury and hunger of an army unto himself, his life energy like a raging blue blaze that lapped at his scarred and scaled skin and sliced through the air with every frenzied movement. The boys cast their gaze back down as Pogi growled furiously, pushed himself up, and spat out several of his teeth.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, "I hate the dentist." He cast his gaze skyward, watching as his brother and the Namekian darted through the sky, thoroughly agitated at having lost his teeth and his fin. "I hate regrowing this thing," he continued, balling his hands into tight fists. Breath quickened and the heart with it; the anger was finally boiling over.
As much as he'd enjoyed tearing apart and feasting on the Namekians, Pogi hadn't wanted to leave Jae-Ujani in the first place. The search for one woman in a universe full of hundreds of trillions of them – albeit a rare one, and one that had murdered his eldest brother – hadn't sounded the least bit appealing. Yet still, Pogi knew what awaited him and his brother if they returned to Jae-Ujani emptyhanded and shuddered slightly. As he stood tall, bleeding from the crown of his head and foaming at the mouth, Pogi seethed with hatred for the remote green planet, its strange and storied people, and the terrifying, spell-binding young woman that had started it all.
"YOU STUPID INSECT! YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!"
Pogi launched into the air to join his brother, the fight intensifying as the warrior blocked, parried, and dodged two sets of weighty hands and two pairs of lightning-fast feet. The soldiers backed up and raised their energy, bellowing together before letting loose a blinding barrage of cerulean ki blasts that sizzled against the Namekian's skin and pushed him back onto the ground. Toriega steeled himself for the last of the charges, flinging his arm and stiffening his wrist as he batted them back to Pogi and Saba, who in turn, smacked them straight towards Porunaga's home. The warrior inhaled sharply and lunged after the bright orbs, crossing his arms in front of him, jade skin darkening, bubbling, and blistering as the energy collided with his body.
'PLEASE, DOJI, HURRY UP! PLEASE!'
Toriega launched himself back at the two invaders, growling in frustration as he raised his fists and resumed his attack. Once more, the two soldiers danced circles around Toriega, expertly exchanging blows with him. To the untrained eye, their strange and sinuous fighting style created great sparking waves of blue and grey energy that encapsulated their prey, dazzling and confusing as they closed in around Toriega. Saba and Pogi smirked together; saliva pooled atop their tongues as the smell of his burnt skin and bloodied arm seemed to beckon to them like a silent dinner bell, and they roared together as they continued their assault.
Toriega finally found an opening between their synchronized movements, using the opportunity to slip in between their arms and dart just behind them. He held his hands apart as if to hold a large circle, fingertips touching as he gathered his energy into a hot flash of light that buzzed and flickered between his palms.
"EAT THIS," he screamed, pushing the ball towards the invaders, a loud explosion sending waves of light and heat through the air.
"GODDAMNIT," Saba screamed, clutching at his face. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"I CAN'T SEE," Pogi cried, "I CAN'T FUCKING SEE!"
Toriega grabbed up the two of them and threw them farther away from the village, desperate to give Doji as much space and time as he needed to get his plan together.
'Doji, please,' he pleaded telepathically, 'I… I don't know how much I have left in me. I'll give it everything I have, for you and for all of us, but please, hurry...'
Quaking, Doji whimpered and fidgeted, thinking aloud, "If I can't think of something, he's going to die… Toriega will die, and it will be all my fault!" He smacked the side of his head several times, tears forming in his eyes as he cried, "Think, damn it, think! Think!"
Kiba grabbed the boy's hand and shook his head. "Hold on now, don't need you damaging the goods, there. Deep breaths."
Doji buried his face in his hands. "I can't do this…! I don't know what I was thinking…! I'm not smart…! I'm... I'm not brave! I'm not—"
"Hush, Doji. Breathe." Kiba rubbed Doji's back, finally noticing the change in his clothing.
'Hey, Hama. He looks just like her.'
Hama looked away from the window and took a good look at Doji, noting the regal purple of his belt and the strange black garb. He raised his brow and smirked.
'Well, he figured out the first part right,' he thought. 'I think he's going to pretend he's Sanshiva's brother. He's got an earring like her, too,' Hama reached out telepathically to the portly boy and nodded to a distracted Doji. 'We're going to need to change.'
'Ugh, black though? I can't just do like… a really dark purple or something?'
'Quit whining.'
Hama shot Kiba an annoyed look before pointing his slender finger and pushing his energy forward, dark tendrils of ki sinking into the boy's clothes and changing their color to mirror Doji's. Hama pointed to himself and did the same, but added a shimmering star lining to his belt, favoring the glittering shapes and smiling confidently.
"Oh, must be nice, pretty boy," Kiba blurted, covering his mouth suddenly.
Doji suddenly looked up from his hands, noticing his friends had changed their clothing to look just like him. As he stared at their newer, darker gi and their concerned faces, the uncertainty of it all seemed to sink deep into his blood, his body now hopelessly weighted with what felt like a desolate, crushing pressure. The last of Porunaga's favorite sons, the bright Toriega, now struggled against two great menaces; his friends had resolved to risk their lives with him and for the first time in his short life, felt truly and utterly unprepared, as if all the knowledge he'd gained – every book read, every path tread, every lesson learned – could never have been enough for the trial that stood before him now.
Sensing the boy's apprehension, the portly little Namekian hummed and mused, "Random, but…Earth has dragon balls, too, right? I wasn't hearing things when Porunga told Sanshiva she could wish Dokira back with those, right?"
"Yes," Hama confirmed. "My father told me that theirs are smaller, but the planet itself is much bigger. Finding all seven could take a long time for just about anybody… But what do the dragon balls have to do with those guys out there?"
"Maybe we could… say they have to find those first?"
Hama stood up and tapped his foot against the floor. "Hm… Now we're getting somewhere. But why would they need to find the dragon balls first, and not Sanshiva?"
Doji squirmed nervously. In the distance, he could make out the shapes of the three fighters. He could feel Toriega's energy flickering and sputtering as he fought off the aliens and realized there wasn't much time left before their overwhelming power brought their defender to his knees. He looked between the other two, anxious for more of their input, his mind still terribly devoid of ideas at the worst possible time.
'So much for being the smart one,' he thought.
'Cut that out,' Himura chimed in. 'You are. Breathe and think.'
Hama's eyes lit up. "Wait a minute! The dragon told Sanshiva she had to go find Baba, right? And Baba's supposed to be this amazing fortuneteller, right?" Kiba and Doji nodded and Hama continued, "Okay, so here's the story. Our sister—"
"Hold up, now I have to pretend she's my sister? I barely know her! It's not bad enough I have to dress like I'm headed for a funeral?!" Kiba scoffed and crossed his arms.
"If you don't shut up and listen," Hama snapped, "…we will be headed to a funeral. Ours."
Kiba swallowed hard and said, "S-sorry… G-go on…"
"Ahem. So, our sister left for Earth to train with a mighty witch whose home lies hidden in the liminal space between this realm and the next. We'll call it… the Spirit Realm," he offered. "Although Sanshiva was invited by the witch, herself, anyone else looking to train with or receive a fortune from the Great Seer has to locate and gather seven tokens full of ancient and powerful magic – the dragon balls – and bring them to… Uh… Um…" The boy paused and twiddled his forefingers, at a loss as to the geography of the strange and far-off world, not knowing where on the alien planet would be best to lose the invaders.
Kiba gasped and cried, "The desert! My dad once told me that the Earth has these huge dry patches where it's really, really hot and there's no people around for hundreds of miles!"
"Yes, that's it! They have to present the dragon balls before an altar in the middle of the desert, and that's how we get to Sanshiva!"
Hama and Kiba held each other's hands and bounced in place, proud of their extravagant lie.
Doji hummed and said, "That still leaves us with two problems to deal with, though."
"Huh?" Hama tilted his head and probed, "What do you mean?"
"First, that story's not going to make them want to put up with all three of us. It's a long way to Earth, and that's a lot of time to be stuck with someone else's kids. Second, we don't actually know where this fortuneteller lives, or if Sanshiva's there yet. She could still be looking for Baba, too, after all..."
"Nonsense," Kiba offered. "Having the two of us with you guys would mean there are more people to look for the dragon balls, which then means the task becomes shorter for them. At least, that's how we'll make it sound, and… If we can convince them to let us split up when we get there, you can look for Sanshiva, and Hama and I can look for Piccolo, or heck, maybe even Goku, too! Maybe they can help us get rid of—"
Before he could finish, a horribly bruised and bloodied Toriega came crashing through the wall, concrete and glass bursting across the house in a terrifying cacophony that pained their ears and stopped their hearts. He landed hard against the door, left arm ripped away, jaw broken, and right eye swollen shut. The boys screeched and grabbed each other, shaking as the warrior struggled to push himself up with his remaining hand before tripping over a massive chunk of mortar and falling face-first to the floor, blood splattering across the ground. The little ones grimaced and floundered as they struggled to turn him over together.
"Toriega!" Hama placed his hands across the young man's chest, lending as much of his energy as possible to heal the wounds. Kiba joined him, focusing on Toriega's arm, pushing ki forward in an attempt to stop the bleeding and seal the massive tear. Their stomachs churned as the stench of blood filled their noses, a small puddle forming on the floor as it steadily dripped from his arm and mouth.
Terribly confused and severely dazed, Toriega reached out to Doji, asking slowly, angrily, 'What are they doing up here?! They're supposed to be in the sanctuary!' He gazed between Hama and Kiba, thoughts turning to their fathers below, vision suddenly blurring as the blood loss became greater, and his body heavier with every breath.
"Look at this, Saba! Turns out our new friend here was hiding the snacks," Pogi said, leaning against the side of the house, peering directly at Kiba. "Oh man…! You know what the big one reminds me of? Hm… A dewdrop cake!" Pogi salivated and licked his lips, his brother shaking his head and smiling all the while.
"Alright, now, you know you shouldn't have too many snacks. This one looks like he might be bad for your stomach. Too much… fat." Saba landed just beside his brother and chortled.
Kiba's nervous look shifted to anger as he turned away from Toriega and stared daggers at the older soldier. "What did you just say, jackass?!"
. "Whew," he exclaimed. "Fat and spicy. Hell of a combo!"
"Watch it, there," Pogi said, "You're too young to be talking like that. I can promise you, little guy, we're not completely heartless. We won't eat you…" He licked his lips and shot the boy a challenging look. "Unless you give us a reason to. After all, you've already kept us waiting for way too long."
"If you harm a single antenna on any one of these boys… for any reason at all… I can guarantee you'll never find Sanshiva or Hasana. All of this… will have been… for nothing…" Toriega's eyes rolled back and his head dropped against the ground with a heavy thud.
Hearing the name of the heroic boy whose story they sought to emulate, the little ones inhaled sharply. Saba squinted, eyes darting between the three little boys, taking note of how similar each looked to the strange female Namekian. Their dark clothing – black gi and purple belts – were in complete contrast to the robes and uniforms the others of their kind were wearing before he and his brother had ripped them apart. He stepped over the threshold, kicking aside large hunks of stone and thick shards of glass as he approached Doji and knelt by him.
Doji's eyes widened, and he shrank back slightly, frightened as the soldier extended a single scaled finger and tapped at the star earring on his right ear. Saba watched the jewel dangle back and forth and grinned.
"You," he said. "I can tell you are especially close to her. Too scared to meet us until after the fighting was over, huh?"
The little one gulped. "I… I'm sorry for making you wait so long…"
"Aww, that's sweet of you," Saba said, deceptively sweet and terrifyingly smooth. "At least they raised you with some manners, hm? Now, tell me, little one, where is that… crazy sister of yours and her dorky little boyfriend?"
"I… I know where exactly she went but I don't… I don't know if you'll be able to find her by yourselves…"
"Yeah, about that… We don't babysit," Saba spat. "Tell me. Where are they?" He grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him close. Doji gagged slightly, the stench of blood and flesh still lingering on the invader's tongue. "I don't have all day, after all."
"Get your hands off him, jerk," Kiba chimed in, "If you want to find her, it's going to take all three of her brothers to help you out. The entrance to the place she's at now is sealed by magic. Do you know how to undo magic?"
"Oh, come on! What do you kids think this is, some fairy tale?!" Pogi stepped over the threshold and grabbed up Kiba, the portly boy swaying in the soldier's grasp like a heavy doll, inches from his face. "Magic doors, demon women, smart-assed little nobodies… We didn't come all this way to be lied to! Tell us where she is, now!"
The boy squinted back at Pogi and said, "Or what, fish-for-brains?! You gonna blow me a kiss?" Kiba curled his bottom half and kicked away using Pogi's chest as a springboard, wrenching the man's grip off him, and hovered just beside Doji. He quickly smacked Saba across the wrist, forcing the scaled invader to drop the little Namekian and he snatched Doji up, eyeing the two men angrily as he flew backward out of the massive hole in the wall and stopped just short of the open rampway. Doji blinked in confusion as Kiba set him down.
"What are you—"
"C'mon, Doji," Kiba whispered. "Everyone's counting on us, so it's time to get tough. Get mean if you have to. Don't let them walk all over you or treat you like a baby. Your big sister is a powerful demon. That means you are, too."
"But—"
"This is all one big game of pretend," he interjected. "Pretend to be the person you need right now. Pretend to be her. She seemed like a nice person the day she left, but somehow I get the feeling she wouldn't let these guys talk to her – or any of us – like that if she were here."
Having finished healing an unconscious Toriega, Hama burst past Saba and Pogi. "One fish," he said, slapping Pogi across the scar on his head. "Two fish," he said, slapping Saba across the face. He landed beside Kiba and Doji, crossing his arms as he said, "Stupid fish, ugly fish!" Hama giggled and shot the men a daring look before winking at his friends, who smiled back at him, impressed by the audacious moves.
The invaders growled, incensed by the boy's lighthearted tone. Pogi rubbed the scar on his head and winced. Blood began to leak out, the tissue inflamed by the sudden contact of the little one's hand on his head. Saba rubbed his cheek before stomping out of the house, joining the boys in front of the ship.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't just tear you apart and eat what's left," he spat through clenched teeth.
"Because you need us!" Doji stomped his foot and balled his hands into fists. "What happens to you if you don't bring her back, huh? Thugs like you always have a boss. What's your boss gonna do to you when he finds out you left New Namek with nothing but full bellies and zero clue as to where she is?!"
Pogi gulped and shuddered slightly at the thought of his father reenacting what they'd done to the Namekians.
"JUST TELL US," Saba screamed, "TELL US OR WE'LL KILL YOU!"
"YOU CAN'T GET TO HER ON YOUR OWN AND YOU KNOW IT! WHAT DO YOU TWO IDIOTS KNOW ABOUT DEMONS AND MAGIC," Doji bellowed.
He remembered the strange dark tendrils that had enveloped Sanshiva's body, the flaming purple eyes and hair that were her only identifier in the darkness of the eclipse, and pushed his energy forward to mimic the memory. Hama and Kiba gasped as the boy's eyes changed color, bright and sparking like violet embers within his head. When he spoke again, two voices came from his mouth; his own, and one entirely unlike anything they'd heard before, like a ghastly devil behind the voice they were familiar with.
"You will take the three of us, together. We're done talking about this."
Saba and Pogi's brows raised, wary of the little one's strange and terrifying tone of voice.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, you stupid little slug?!" Saba stepped towards him and raised his fist. "You think sounding tough is going to—"
"I am Doji, son of Dokira, brother of Hama, Kiba, and Sanshiva," the boy cried. "And if you think our sister's scary when she transforms, wait until you see what I can become," he challenged, the invaders' eyes popping wide open.
The boy let Kiba's words echo in his mind. 'My big sister is a powerful demon,' he thought. 'So that means I am, too.'
He widened his stance and steeled himself for his bluff; he breathed deep and closed his eyes, focusing all of his energy as he relived the memory of Sanshiva's awakening. "Make me angry enough, and the two of you are going back to wherever you came from… IN PIECES!"
The boy allowed his inner darkness to show, let the pain of his losses and the fear of his undertaking consume him, and manifest in the air around him. Everything he never wanted to happen had happened; everything he wanted to keep safe had nearly been lost, and the one thing he wanted the most was still trillions of miles out of reach in every sense imaginable. Heart racing and body quaking, the boy screamed into the sky, thick wisps of black energy jutting from his mouth and wrapping themselves around his form as shadow consumed both body and mind. For a moment, his spirit was whole, as if something he hadn't allowed himself to fully feel had finally been set free: a scorching, unrestrained, and limitless rage. He stared at the invaders, two deep purple flames burning his image into their minds, the men now paralyzed at the sight of the demon boy.
The silence between the five was deafening; the only audible sound was Doji's hot and labored breathing as he struggled against the strange and dark desire to destroy Pogi and Saba in the slowest and most painful ways he could imagine. Snarling, he stepped forward and pulled Saba to eye level by the neck of his cuirass, black fingers digging deep into the man's armor.
"We're done talking. Get in the ship."
"Oh, so now you're the captain of the starship, huh," Saba probed anxiously.
Doji chuckled and chortled, until what started as a low growl ended in long, agonizingly cruel howls, his strange dual-voiced tone sending shivers down the others' spines, painful to their ears. He forcefully threw Saba onto the grass and exhaled deeply. The shadows at once uncoiled themselves from his body and faded into the green sky, and his eyes settled, no longer aflame but now a permanent amethyst color that glistened in the sunlight as he smiled wide at the shocked men.
He turned his back to them, nodded to Hama and Kiba, and flew into the ship without another word. The boys' brows raised, and they grinned, taking one last look at the bewildered soldiers before following Doji's lead.
'Oh, my gods,' Hama thought. 'Did he actually—'
'Now I see why they always called him the smartest. I said one thing, Hama. One teeny, tiny little thing, like a little spark to keep him going, and... He went and lit a fire under those guys' butts something fierce! I mean, can you believe it?!'
The Grand Elder paced back and forth anxiously through his home, his steps growing faster with every passing minute. The third sun of New Namek danced in high the sky, the silent and noticeable affirmation of a solid four hours having passed since Toriega had darted off and ordered him not to open the door until a password was given. During that time, the energy signatures he'd sensed in the distance had seemed strange and foreboding, but none more so than the last that he'd felt before the ki had disappeared altogether. It was terribly deep and dark, malevolent in ways he'd only remembered since Frieza and his minions had visited their old world, and yet, as familiar to him as the energy that radiated from his only child. Moori found himself lost in thoughts that soon turned to little Doji, whose darkened appearance and strange glittering earring had proved a jarring sight.
He remembered Porunaga's words the night Sanshiva had unwillingly revealed herself; that his daughter's presence was a threat, a poison to their people's spiritual and mental progress. The implication in his brother's tone spoke not of a toxic condition, but of an all-consuming plague that lay dormant within each of them. Over the weeks, Moori had realized that, in his usual roundabout way, Porunaga had implied that Sanshiva was but a catalyst to something profoundly horrifying; something that could spread and devour every one of their kind – minds, bodies, and souls – if left unchecked. Moori shuddered at the thought of a thousand demonic Namekians roaming wildly across their home planet, destruction and desolation reigning where once peace and prosperity ruled.
Lost in thought and full of dread, the old man jumped when he heard a somber sound from beyond his door.
"H-Hasana," called the familiar voice, glumly and breathily.
Moori gasped and ran to the door, wrenching it wide open. Expecting Porunaga or Toriega, the Grand Elder's mouth hung open as he gazed at a weeping Tobi and a stern Motoki. The boys were never far from them, especially not in times of crisis, and the old man found himself at once overcome with anxiety. He tilted his head, noticing the charms that hung around their necks; the gifts that Doji had made for his best friends.
"Where are the boys," he asked. "Did… Did Doji and Toriega make it to the shelter?"
"Doji… Kiba… My sweet Hama…" Tobi let out an exasperated cry and fell to his knees before his leader, grieving loudly as he clasped his slender hands over his face. "They're all gone… Gone…"
Motoki's eyes brimmed with tears, and he sniffled as he said, "Not for long. They promised they'd be back, remember?"
"This is… insane! It's like the gods wanted to play some sick joke on us, even after all we've been through, even after the floods and the drought, even after Frieza… And now our kids… Sanshiva, our boys, Dokira's boy…" Tobi struggled to speak, hiccupping as he wiped his face on his scarf, the cloth dampening and darkening between his fingers. "They're all just kids… This is horrible, horrible, and I hate it!"
Moori swallowed hard. "Try to have some faith in—"
"I want to, but I can't! That's my only boy, Moori! He's all I had and—"
"They were all any of us had, Tobi, and we did the best we could with all of them," Motoki said, kneeling beside him. "They'll all come back, Tobi, they promised."
Moori followed suit, rubbing Tobi's back gently and leaning his head onto the man's thin shoulder, lending energy to try and heal what he could feel was a shattered and empty heart.
"For the first time in all my years," he said, "I feel… at a loss as to what I could offer you to help you feel better, and it pains me because of who I am supposed to be, for you and all of our people. But… what I can tell you is that children are natural oath-keepers. Promises aren't just empty words they give to stave off consequences or stall for time; they are holy vows, unshakeable bonds that are upheld with such fervor and force they'd put the gods themselves to shame. So, Tobi…"
Moori gently pulled away Tobi's hands and lifted his chin with a single wrinkled finger. Tobi sniffled as he looked into the Grand Elder's obsidian eyes, chest hot, throat tight, and the pain of missing his only son almost too much to bear.
"Let us have faith in the strength of their vows, and pray they always have the courage to face any trial that stands before them."