Uschi Kuhn, thank you for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. :D

AnonymousDBZFan! So happy to hear from you! :D Thank you so much for your (positive!) feedback on the fighting sequences. I do question myself at times because fights are so visual, and it can be difficult to convey such a thing through words alone. I'd like to think that I've improved since the first story, lol :D BTW, I posted a (mostly/partly) illustrated version of "Touketsu" on AO3. I'm not a big fan of the first couple drawings I did for the first two chapters, but I'm fairly happy with the later ones.

You so made my day with your review! 3 I'm kinda restraining myself giving you any leads, but I so love that you're puzzling out these characters' motives (and what Zhernobog's up to, lol). I'll aim to have a new chapter up each week. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I adore your feedback!

The Water of Life

Sitting regally in her chair of black opal in the Imperial Box, Queen Marenna let out a silent breath as she watched the new champion of Nav. Standing in the middle of the bloodstained arena, hands on his hips, he was smiling up at the viewers in the stands cheering him for his monumental victory against the three headed, draconian executioner.

Marenna stood. "My good people," she announced, her voice ringing out through the magical projection above and capturing the attention of the occupants in the gargantuan colosseum, "do you wish to know the name of our newest champion?" Her query was met with a deafening response in the affirmative.

"YES!"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"GIVE US YOUR NAME, CHAMPION!"

Touketsu, who had been grinning with the exhilaration of post battle and basking in the adulation of the crowd, deflated a bit. His smile faltered.

"My dear guest," Marenna called out to him, recapturing his attention. "Will you be so gracious as to give your name to your fans, so they may know their new champion?"

Touketsu deliberated. His brow furrowed a little, and his smile faded completely. "It is Touketsu," he called out.

The crowd roared, chanting his name in worshipful adoration. Queen Marenna looked down on him with an expression of mild interest. She alone detected the reluctance in his voice, the sudden dullness in his eyes. She nonetheless seemed almost pleased with his answer.

"Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Touketsu!" she called out. "No one before you has ever defeated Zeygorn. The Great Banquet shall be held in your honor at Nav's royal dining hall, Susmir. And, if you so choose, you are invited to stay at the palace, for however long you wish." Gasps of surprise were quickly followed by a deafening round of applause and cheers from the stands. This was an unheard of honor, but a well-earned one since he had bested their executioner. "This concludes this evening's Tournament! The Fallen, if you so choose, rise and join us at Susmir!"

There was a whoosh from the fire behind Touketsu and he turned to look. His jaw dropped open in astonishment; every single one of the slain was emerging from the flames, whole and healthy though now sporting halos.

"What the…" Touketsu was immediately mobbed by the younger combatants - the Familia - and he looked warily from one excited face to the next.

"Hey congratulations on your wins, new guy!"

"You're staying at the palace!? Wow what an honor!"

"I can't believe you defeated Zeygorn! Touketsu, was it?"

"Uh, yes. Hi," he replied uncomfortably.

The last of the defeated emerged from the fire, and Marenna's voice rang out once more to demand Touketsu's attention. "My daughters and I will see you all at Susmir." She caught Touketsu's eyes, and she gave him a small smile and a bow of her head. She leaned towards one of her attendants and whispered something, then turned to disappear through the exit behind her. Touketsu's brows drew together. Where the hell was she going? The floor beneath his feet began to quake rhythmically, and he looked over his shoulder when someone very large approached him.

Zeygorn's towering form stopped before Touketsu. Unlike the others, not a single halo hovered over his three heads. He stared Touketsu down for long moments, resentment and jealousy burning in his orange eyes. The black dragon bowed his three heads in forced deference. "Congratulations on your win, Touketsu," they ground out in unison. "Your award was well earned."

Touketsu smiled smugly. Vegeta had never been a gracious winner. "Thank you," he replied. He cracked a lopsided grin. "And thank you for almost making me break a sweat."

The three heads shot up. The middle one, Yudoch, remained stone faced, but the others were not so successful in hiding their emotions. The drake-like Jozop on the left bared his teeth at the slight while the antler-headed Ajadzo on the right looked away in embarrassment. Zeygorn straightened. "Looked like you broke a sweat when I was burning you to death," the left hissed.

"You think so? I seem to remember you were too busy choking. Thank heavens for being full of hot air, yes?"

"Maybe you'll find the fire hotter?" the snake-like center head rumbled as the left head seethed. "I'll be happy to throw you in tomorrow night."

Touketsu's maddening smirk only broadened. "You could try. That is, if you still have the job of 'Royal Executioner' after this," he chuckled sarcastically before giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't worry though. I haven't yet decided if I'll be staying."

"Ah. So he's afraid of losing, the right whispered into the middle one's ear. "He did come awfully close." Touketsu heard that, and his teasing grin melted into a scowl. He was opening his mouth for a rebuke when he was interrupted.

"You're staying for the banquet at least, aren't you?" A young kitsune being piped up.

"Yeah, you've got to!" one of a trio of wolfish siblings chimed in.

Touketsu faltered, but he didn't have to consider long; his appetite had returned with a vengeance after all the fighting he had been doing. "Well…perhaps," he smirked.

"Cool, hope you do," the young lupine warrior smiled. They began to file away, presumably to the banquet hall Susmir. He got a few venomous glances from the so called "Inimicus" that he killed in battle. He shot them a derisive look, giving them the finger for good measure as they walked away. He turned and began following the others to wherever this banquet hall was. I feel cheated. The whole point of killing someone is so you don't have to put up with their shi-

Touketsu stopped when four women in black kimonos quickly blocked his path. They were Marenna's anthropomorphic attendants: Two hares and two swans, each pair black and the other white. The black, swan-like being stepped forward, dipping her graceful neck in a respectful bow.

"Congratulations on your victory tonight, Mr. Touketsu. Queen Marenna has gone to receive her daughters after their outing. They will all be attending the banquet shortly. She has asked us to show you to the bathhouse so that you may make yourself presentable."

Presentable? Touketsu's nose twitched in offense. He glanced down at his blood streaked, slashed and burned form and supposed he was a bit of a mess. His right hand, which he had lain on Ajadzo's throat to steal his energy, was about the only unblemished part of his body. He shrugged. "Fine. Lead the way."

The floor of the large, circular bathhouse was polished labradorite, the streaked, gray-green stone flashing with schiller that rivaled the dancing colors of the northern sky. Pillars of the same mineral encircled the room to support a ceiling set with a large domed skylight that offered a spectacular view of the night sky. Uninhibited by the sconces of aqua fire that illuminated the darkened room, the stars above glittered like diamond dust cast over black velvet.

Half of the room was lined with arched, floor to ceiling windows, the sparkling lights of the expansive kingdom visible beyond. The walls of the other half of the room were of highly polished silver that shown like mirrors. Folded white towels had been lain out on several of the carved benches of rainbow moonstone situated just beyond the pillars, and in the center of the room was an enormous pool that emanated a soft, white glow. Its shape resembling that of a waning crescent moon, a set of rounded steps descended down into steaming, milk-white water reminiscent of that found in a hot spring.

Touketsu knelt at the edge, warily inspecting the strange, opaque water before dipping his unmarred hand through its pearlescent surface. He brought his hand back up, noting how the silky water was more translucent when pooled in the shallow cup of his palm. Sniffing it experimentally, he took in the pleasant scent of petrichor before allowing it to trickle between his fingers, the water now appearing clear as crystal.

The other attendants had left, but the white rabbit woman remained standing behind him. "The bathhouse is a place of healing and meditation. If you submerge yourself completely-"

"I know how to bathe, woman," Touketsu sneered over his shoulder in annoyance, shaking the water from his hand. He flicked his head towards the exit.

With a respectful bow, the woman departed. Touketsu looked to the water and tentatively slid in, his arms braced on the edge of the pool. He hissed a bit as the hot water came in contact with his wounds, but he quickly relaxed. Leaning back and closing his eyes, he sighed in contentment. Damn that water felt good on his aching muscles. He had taken some decent damage from Zeygorn, and while it wasn't any amount of pain he couldn't handle he certainly didn't mind how the bathwater alleviated the sting of his wounds. In fact, the lingering pain seemed to have disappeared completely.

His brows drew together, and he glanced down at himself, the opaque water undulating around his chest with the movement. He scowled in bewilderment. It looked as though the bruises, cuts, and burns had simply washed away. Leaning back on his elbows, he hoisted the upper half of his body out of the water for a better inspection. His eyes widened; the wounds he had endured were completely gone - healed. Lowering himself back in, he splashed the miraculous water over his shoulders and arms. The remaining burns and other injuries washed away like so much grime.

"By the gods," he murmured, a small smile of wonder tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The rejuvenation chambers have absolutely nothing on this." He braced his arms back over the edge of the pool with a sigh, reflecting on his well earned win that had come very close to a loss. That Zeygorn sure gave him a run for his money. His expression became thoughtful. "I've been going about this all wrong," he murmured to himself. "I've been avoiding using this negative energy, and that bastard almost won as a result of my flawed training." He had a sudden epiphany:

I have dominion.

An ambitious smirk crawled across his features. "This power is mine, Zhernobog, and I will bend it to my will. I will learn how, and you will get nothing in return." He chuckled, amused with the irony of Zeygorn teaching him something. "Thanks for the lesson, you three-headed loser."

He leaned back against the edge of the pool, admiring the sparkling cityscape beyond the windows as the minutes ticked by in silence. His eyes drifted closed, and a cool breeze ghosted over his exposed skin, the contrast to the pleasant heat of the pool only heightening his enjoyment. He shivered once in pleasure and sighed. This was a warrior's paradise. He had held a seat of honor, fought and killed to his heart's content, and now here he was relaxing in this opulent bathhouse before a king-sized meal. He felt like…royalty. Saiyan royalty. If he was in hell, he couldn't complain.

His eyes cracked open, his brows drawing together suspiciously. This place was too damn good to be true. But, he could go any time. His eyes again slid closed, and he leaned his head back as he relaxed. "After dinner," he sighed in contentment. "I'll depart after dinner." Seconds later his stomach growled loudly. As much as he was enjoying himself he knew he'd best wash out his hair and finish up. He was hungry, and he needed to return.

With another sigh, this time of resignation, he splashed some water over his face and scrubbed through his mane before dunking into the pool. He quickly breached the surface again, eyes closed, and he slicked his wet hair back from off his face. His hair suddenly seemed much shorter. His arm also didn't bump up against his horns as it normally would have. Frowning, he wiped the water from his face and opened his eyes. They popped wide in absolute shock.

His body had returned to normal.

His hands flew to a tanned, unscarred chest, the strange stone in his sternum gone. He held his hands out in front of him and turned them over as he studied them in slack-jawed wonder. The claws were gone, and the shaggy black fur that covered his forearms had all but disappeared. He whirled around, the water splashing about him from the fervent movement as he clambered out of the pool.

He lunged towards the mirrored walls and stared at his reflection. Shaking the excess water from his sodden mane, he ran a hand through his now upswept, damp hair. He stared at his face. His face. No horns, no markings trailing beneath his eyes. He betrayed a small smile of wonder, and it broadened when he saw that the fangs were gone as well. All traces of the monster that Zhernobog had turned him into had vanished.

He stepped back a little, looking himself up and down when he noticed something familiar wavering behind him. He caught his breath and the object whipped to his front; his tail remained. It was the tail of a Saiyan, covered in soft, russet fur. Vegeta grasped the tail gently and allowed it to pull through his hand, looking upon it in awe. After his proud tail had been hacked off during that battle on Earth he never expected to see it again. In denial over being an amputee and not wanting to appear compromised in front of the doctor, he'd bluffed when he claimed it would grow back. He knew he was far beyond the age where a Saiyan's tail could regenerate. Yet, here it was. He was healed, whole. He was himself again. Prince Vegeta.

"Hm. I liked him better before."

"Oh you would. You're so creepy."

"Ha ha, Creepy Kuma!"

He whirled around in surprise. "Who's there? Show yourselves!" How had he not sensed anyone?

There was the giggling of three distinctly different female voices from the shadows. He glanced down at himself when he realized that without the thick, shaggy hair that had covered him from the hips down he was completely exposed. He grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around his waist as nonchalantly as possible.

Across the pool, three young women emerged from the darkness beyond the pillars. Vegeta felt his face flush in indignation. How long had these girls been ogling him? They looked to be around 18 and were human in appearance. Their builds were willowy and graceful, standing taller than himself. They were pretty, and all had long hair: The one in the lead had red hair, the one on the right black, and the one on the left a platinum blonde. They wore white kimonos that shimmered in pink, green, and blue iridescence respectively. All three had extremely pale skin and piercing blue eyes.

"I find him much more attractive now," said the red haired one, her eyebrow arching up lustfully as she looked him up and down. A wolf-like fang peeked out from parted, ruby lips. "He looks like he could be royalty."

He glowered at them. "Stupid girls. Can a man not get any privacy around here? Get out of my sight."

"He doesn't act like royalty," the black haired one deadpanned, the corner of her nearly black garnet lips twitching up wryly.

The blonde's nose wrinkled, her rosy mouth pursing in distaste. "Yeah. He acts like an ape."

Like specters, they glided languidly over the water towards him. Vegeta's scowl deepened, and his tail covertly drew up beneath the towel to wrap around his waist, his body instinctively tensing for a fight. They were halfway across the pool when the red-haired one in the center smiled. She sighed, the sound seeming to linger like the final expiration of the dead. The steam rising from the pool froze, the minuscule ice crystals suspended mid-air where the women disappeared in a fog. The fog became a cloud of dancing snow flurries as it continued towards him. Then, a single figure emerged from it to step onto the edge of the pool, four feet away from Vegeta. His eyes widened, the tension in his muscles relaxing completely.

Bulma.

She approached him, the cold, white mist of tiny snowflakes following her to encircle them both. Vegeta felt as though he was frozen in place. It was only him and Bulma. He gawped like a fish, trying to find words. She looked as she had the last time he saw her on that rooftop; She was still in the gear that she had worn to Mount Eroso, her bobbed, aqua tresses gently rustling about her soft face. He felt as though he was in a trance; he was barely cognizant that all reason was leaving him as he stood transfixed by her eyes.

He finally found his voice. "Bulma," he whispered, "Woman…is it really you?"

It was her; It was her scent, her modest ki that nonetheless shined like a beacon. Even the smell of her shampoo clung to her hair… 'strawberries' was the foreign word that passed through his mind. She didn't reply, but merely regarded him with limpid eyes as blue as the waters of a grotto. They held marginally more life than they had the last time he had seen them, moments before they rolled back into their sockets and her lifeless body collapsed into his arms.

His face cracked under her penetrating gaze as she leaned in, now only inches away. "Bulma I just want you to know that I'm sorry," he said in a rush. He had never apologized to anyone in his life, but it was all he had wanted to do before Freiza robbed him of that chance. He shook his head helplessly, dying to have that chance now. "I'm sorry for ev-"

He was silenced when her lips descended upon his. His eyes widened in shock before drifting closed, and he realized right then just how much his heart had been bleeding for her forgiveness. He never believed he would get it, much less her affections. She deepened the kiss, her hands reaching up to cup his face, her soft, cool fingertips resting beneath his earlobes and on his jaw. He reached to return her embrace but was unable, his arms seemingly held back by some unknown force.

He didn't care. Focused on her mouth alone, he submitted to her taste and touch. There was a prickling in his left wrist and right bicep that disappeared as quickly as it registered as her hands trailed over his bare shoulders to roam up and down the hard planes of his torso. Shuddering in pleasure, he leaned into her touch as much as he was able, hungrily consuming the kisses she gifted to him as though he was a starving man.

She released his mouth to trail slow, prickling kisses down his throat and chest before coming back up to recapture his lips. The bathwater still trickling down his arms, throat, and torso warmed again, as though it was drawing the heat of passion right out through his skin. Vegeta continued to drink Bulma in, the taste, the scent of her. He was losing himself in the cloud of pleasure that enveloped him, and he couldn't break away for air if he tried. There was a coppery taste in his mouth for a heartbeat as he melted into the kisses, his body relaxing so much he felt as though he was dissolving.

"I'm sorry," he breathed against the soft curves of her mouth, the words seeming to pull the very air from his lungs as they escaped his lips. "I'm so sorry, Bulma."

"I forgive you, Touketsu."

…Touketsu?

His eyes snapped open. Bulma's blue eyes were open, staring intently into his. They had changed; they were cold, their shape hard and angular. No. This wasn't right. Dazed, he began to lean back. Before his hazy mind could process more, her hands clasped his face and a mouth now blue as death reclaimed his. His body still surrendering to the opiate, sensual onslaught, he fought through the tenacious fog of euphoria when he registered the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Intensifying pain rose in his wrist and bicep, and he glanced down, his eyes bouncing fervently from the left to the right.

The brunette and the blonde women were there, their lips now a glacial blue as they gnawed on his blood-coated arms. Rivulets of blood from numerous bite marks on his throat and chest dribbled down between the cleft of his pectorals and over the ridges of his abdomen, the white towel around his waist now soaked in scarlet.

Growling in horrified surprise and disgust, he attempted to fling them off and raise his ki only to find it was all but depleted; the succubus had been steadily draining his life force the moment she had put her lips to his. With a desperate cry he tried to wrench away, but the surprisingly strong hands of the redheaded woman cradling his face merely pulled him deeper into the kiss, further assaulting his slashed tongue.

Groaning into the creature's mouth, his bleeding lips became numb as a white, rimy frost spread from her lips to his, coating the flesh of his face, his throat, and continuing down his chest. His breath left him as though his lungs were collapsing, and his muscles grew stiff under the spreading cold. Fighting to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head, he continued to struggle against them.

The blond vampire's fangs lost her grip on his bicep, his brachiocephalic artery pumping out his life's blood uncontrollably. "Damn it! All his squirming is making it hard to eat!" She whined. "Didn't you freeze him?!"

With a huff of annoyance the black haired one tore her teeth from his wrist, the blood from the ravaged artery spurting into the air. "What did you say to him anyway, Likha?"

The fanged mouth that had his lips imprisoned at last released their hold, and he gasped desperately to pull air back into his struggling lungs. "Nothing, Kuma," she sassed, "I just went with his fantasy!"

"Well you did something to turn him off."

"Heh- Maybe it was her breath."

"Ugh! Shut-up, Zeema."

There were fits of giggles on either side of him, and a hand grabbed a fistful of his hair before jerking his head back. Soft hair brushed over his bare chest, cool breath gusting over his exposed, blood-streaked throat. "Well, at least I had a little fun before dinner," a voice sniffed.

Sharp teeth plunged into his jugular. Vegeta's eyes bulged in shock and pain before squeezing shut. He coughed and attempted a futile, wheezing breath as his trachea was crushed. His airflow quickly cut off, the warmth of his life's blood flowed from the wound to coat his chilled skin. He was only vaguely aware of eager tongues laving up the blood from his body before sharp teeth punctured the flesh, the piercing sensation quickly and mercifully numbed under the freezing magic. He could still feel their mouths greedily exploring his body, biting and sampling as though they were being overwhelmed by the selection at a dessert buffet. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, the vampires never loosening their grip on him. Growling weakly, he was only vaguely aware of the fingers curling around the top of the blood-soaked towel, ready to tear it from his waist as his consciousness began to slip away.

"GIRLS!" The chewing halted. All three girls exclaimed in unison:

"Mom!"

"Mother!"

"Mama!"

For several moments, Vegeta's desperate, strained panting was the only sound in the deadly quiet room. "What are you doing?" Marenna whispered. "Just…what have you done?" She quickly closed the distance, her voice rising in pitch and wavering with what sounded like barely restrained hysteria. "Do you have any idea how complicated you have made things for your mother now!?"

The voice cut through Vegeta's fading consciousness, anchoring him back to the here and now. His glazing eyes flared, the whites showing like that of a defensive stallion, and he flung away the deceptively comfortable blanket of impending unconsciousness. Forcing himself to his feet, he blindly pushed away the figures surrounding him and wheeled back unsteadily when he was hit with a wave of dizziness. Suffering from severe blood loss and nearly drained of his life force, he stumbled stiffly back to collide into the mirrored walls behind him. His hand clasped over the deep lacerations in his throat in a vain attempt to staunch the blood pulsing out with every beat of his slowing heart, and he pressed his back against the mirror when Marenna approached him. Now that he had returned to his original height, he had to tilt his head up to look at her. Beyond the skylight above her, thunderheads pulsing with lightning had moved in to swallow the stars.

"Wha…what are you?" he wheezed. She seemed to grow in stature before him as he slid down the mirror with an audible streak, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The last thing he saw was the towering woman lunge for him before his eyes rolled back.

The queen cradled the dying Saiyan in her arms. "Why are you three even here?" She snapped over her shoulder at her daughters. She effortlessly lifted him and made her way towards the pool.

Her guilty looking daughters trailed after her, the redheaded Likha sheepishly biting her lower lip which had since returned to its crimson shade. "Well, when you said there was a Mr. Touketsu using the bathhouse we…thought we'd have a look," she answered, the blush blossoming over her pale cheeks rivaling the color of her hair.

"Obviously you did more than that," Marenna seethed said as she descended the shallow steps into the pool and knelt into the water, her cargo cradled to her breast. "I said he was our guest."

"Well, yeah, but…Mom, come on! We thought you meant…we thought he was for-"

"You thought what you wanted to think, you greedy girls!" Cradling Vegeta's limp neck over the crook of her arm, she splashed the nacreous water over the wounds on his throat, her hand next sliding up and down over his pale torso as she washed away the other numerous injuries. "I only wished to offer him sanctuary, that was all. That was to be the extent of my involvement," she muttered, her voice cracking amidst the acoustics of trickling water.

"Mother…we're sorry," the dark haired Kuma offered sincerely, the three sisters trading bewildered looks with each other. They descended into the water to assist their mother, helping wash away the wounds of their would-be victim.

"We didn't know, Mama," the blonde Zeema whined plaintively as she tended to Vegeta's arms. "He was alive, so-"

"I'm aware of that," Marenna said thickly, sniffing. "He is to stay that way."

"Yes, mother," Kuma acquiesced.

Likha meanwhile washed away the cuts over Vegeta's mouth, the water trickling between his parted lips to heal his tongue. His chest began to visibly rise and fall, his strength returning as he filled his oxygen starved lungs. Groaning, his eyes fluttered open, and the blurry shapes around him came into focus. The three young women were leaning over him, absolutely coated with his blood. Vegeta began to feel his sense return to him, along with the stirrings of rage.

"We're really sorry, Mr. Touketsu," offered the blonde, her face caked in crimson. "We misunderstood."

His face twisted with abject fury. "Get off me you bloodthirsty WHORES!" Vegeta raged, his dripping ki bursting around him and disintegrating the soaked towel. Scrambling out of Marenna's arms and shooting to his feet, he backed up out of the pool in a clumsy, fervent movement. He threw out a hand to blast them all, the dark energy of his ki cascading down his form when he faltered.

His hand was white. The fingers were tipped with sharp, black talons, his forearm and the back of his hand covered in shaggy, black fur. The girls disappeared into a flurry of snow and whirled out, squealing in fright, but he paid them no mind. He looked down at himself in bewilderment and saw a white chest, a garnet colored stone in its center. Staring at his clawed, digitigrade feet, he let his hand drop to his side, and his ki dissipated. Marenna cautiously approached.

"I'm very sorry, Prince Touket-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupted in a low voice, not looking up.

He could feel the queen looking at his profile. "Your anger is understandable. I will see to it that my daughters give you a formal apology. The banquet has begun, and-"

"Fuck your banquet, lady," he snarled, his head snapping up to meet her eyes. He began marching off towards the bathhouse doors. "You're showing me out," his voice rang out, the volume steadily rising. "I won't stay another minute in your house of mirrors, with your ghoulish daughters, or your blasted DECEPTIONS!"

Irate, he pushed the double doors to the bathhouse open and stormed out. The walls were lined with attendants, and to their credit they did not react to his abrupt and noisy exit. He turned to Marenna while he pointed at the attendants in front of him. "Now. You can either get your lackeys to show me out or you do it. I don't care, but no matter what I am leaving." He stood trembling in a rage as the darkness crept over his body and dark light pulsed through his markings. "UNDERSTAND?!" He roared, his aura bursting forth with frightening power.

Queen Marenna held his furious countenance, her mouth slightly agape and her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. She blinked fleetingly, eyelashes fluttering, and she looked to her attendants. "My Ladies, you are dismissed. I and my daughters will be attending the banquet soon. Do enjoy your evening."

They bowed respectfully. "Yes, my queen," came the chorused reply, and they filed away.

She turned to him. "Come, Touketsu," she said quietly. "I will show you out." She walked ahead. Toukesu stared at her back for a moment, and the darkness receded as his aura extinguished. Squaring his shoulders and lowering his jaw, he stormed along after her.

They traveled side by side down the empty, darkened halls in silence. Touketsu was completely lost in his mind. Why. Why had he been so elated to see himself as he once was? Any thoughts of the incredible power he would be trading in exchange for his original form were completely absent from his mind the moment he laid eyes on his reflection. It's not as though being Vegeta again would have undone the betrayals he had committed against his family. It's not as though having his body back would have automatically given him his life back, too. It was irrational. In that moment though, he felt as though he had found salvation. That teasing illusion of Bulma flashed through his mind, and his features tightened. He realized right then and there why he was happy to see his old, familiar face: He wanted his life back. He couldn't now, though. Not after the hell he had rained down on his family.

At last they walked down a familiar hallway, and a heaviness settled in his stomach. He glanced up; the double doors lay ahead, the comparatively conservative, carved ebony wood standing out in stark contrast to the lightness and opulence of the palace walls. His feet felt like lead. It was like walking up to the waiting guillotine. Queen Marenna stopped just in front of the doors and stood to his right, and her crescent-topped staff materialized from her hand. She drove the end of the staff into the immaculate floor with a resounding bang that echoed throughout the halls, and the doors slowly swung open. She walked through, stopping at the staircase landing, and turned to face him expectantly. Not looking her way, he stepped forward and stopped to peer down.

The staircase spiraled downward into the darkness, and his heart sank. His cell awaited him below. Life in prison, his only option. How simple it would have been if he just relinquished control and let those succubi have him. It was so foolish, this instinct to live. Or was it his pride that balked at defeat and death? It didn't matter what he did, anyway. Live or die, it would just be more of the same: Hell. His heart began to speed up in what he realized may be panic. Alone again, he would see her in his mind's eye. It was hard enough before. It was hard enough before that siren took her form. I've been prepared for Hell, he reminded himself. I've ALWAYS known what awaited me upon death. His throat began to close up, and his brow furrowed slightly. He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing spastically. It will be unbearable now…and it will be forever, he thought, taboo heat beginning to pool in his eyes. It will be -

"Touketsu?"

He latched onto Marenna's gentle voice, anything to keep from being dragged back into that vortex that threatened to pull him into a depthless below.

"Would you care to sleep on it?" Marenna offered. "My daughters misunderstood your reason for being here. I promise you, they will not disturb you again."

He scowled, silent. Finally he spoke. "You insult me yet again," he said quietly before turning to her. "As if I'm afraid of teenage girls."

She smiled a little. "Of course not."

His eyes flicked down for a moment as he considered asking the question that was plaguing him. "I changed. It was the water, wasn't it?"

"Yes. The Water of Life heals even the most grievous injuries. If one completely submerges, it reveals a physical representation of the ideal self."

His eyes dropped down, and he stared at his clawed feet. The ideal self. "The change wasn't permanent."

"No. While the Water of Life instantly heals, its transformative effects leave when it does."

"Hm." His shoulders sagged a little. "I see." It was simple: He instantly dried himself off when he flared his ki in his rage, evaporating the water and dissipating its glamour with it. He turned and leaned over the balustrade to stare into the downward spiral of steps disappearing into the blackness, contemplative silence overtaking him. At length, he spoke. "Your servant woman said the bathhouse was used for meditation." His features tightened. "How?" He rasped, the betrayal in his voice only barely disguised. "Just how can illusions aid in meditation?"

"The bathhouse is a place of healing, not just physically but mentally and spiritually. Meditation and self reflection help realize the ideal self, something one is at their core. Submerging in the water merely manifests a symbolic representation of that, thereby aiding focus on its attainment in reality."

He looked away, his jaw set. "Tell your rabbit to be more clear next time," he grumbled.

Queen Marenna bit back a smile. "I will do that. So…you will take your leave in the morning after you've rested?"

He looked back to her, not allowing her to see his bewilderment. There was an almost hopeful tone in her voice. Nevermind her, though; he truly didn't want to go back. Not just yet. He decided to take advantage of her apologetic offer. Straightening, he nodded in the affirmative.

"All right, then," she replied softly, a small smile on her lips. They left the dark room together, and the doors closed behind them. Slowly, silently, Touketsu let out his breath.

Walking down the halls together, Marenna led him to where he'd be staying for the night. They crossed a covered walkway, the sides open to the night air, and Marenna chuckled over the whooping and hollering that sailed over to them from the dining hall Susmir. "Sounds like quite the party tonight. I suspect there is a lot of talk concerning your performance. Doubtless everyone will be disappointed that you will not be joining us, but I'm sure they will understand. Nonetheless Toukestu," she said, stopping and turning to him, "would you consider gracing us with your presence before you retire? It need not be long. Just an appearance."

He looked down at her, his stoic facade concealing his ever present suspicion. Since he'd been here she seemed to be deliberately appealing to his interests. She'd try to flatter his ego by calling him 'prince', had tempted him into staying with food and battle. He saw her in that ice. She lured him here, didn't she? But to what end? To make him fucking food for her daughters? He was nearly unconscious when she arrived in the bathhouse, so he wasn't sure what exactly happened prior to blacking out completely. She did seem genuinely apologetic about the actions of her ghoulish children, however.

…Or did she just want him for herself? She knew things about him. She had referred to him as royalty back in her throne room, and at the colosseum she had called him a fugitive from the gods. She knew of his power. How much more did she know, and why was she being so secretive? Well, two could play at that game. It was not his usual modus operandi, but doubtless he could learn a bit more about her and this place by mingling with the locals.

"Fine. I will stop by."

Queen Marenna smiled. "Excellent. Thank you, Touketsu."

That's a little payback on behalf of Bulma and Yamcha, Mr. Touketsu. ;)

The water in the bathhouse is based on several magical types found in Russian folklore: The Water of Death can piece together a dismembered body and heal wounds, while the Water of Life restores life itself. Slavic folklore also speaks of "rivers of milk", and in some stories it can make a person the most beautiful version of his or herself.

Would you believe I'm not into vampires? Nothing against them, just not my thing (I'm a werewolf gal, lol). The three daughters were originally inspired by both the Power Puff Girls and the three horsemen of the Slavic witch Baba Yaga. Later I realized that the daughters are coincidently similar to the cinematic depictions of Dracula's three brides.

Thank you for reading, and please take a moment to review!