The Horse with No Name

Chapter Sixteen

Intermission

Age 780

The Grand Meeting Chamber, Planet Geo, South Quadrant

The ceiling is its usual white, glistening with fine speckles of rockery throughout. Carvings can be seen ingrained to its surface; squiggles and inconsistent attempts of art, line work which leaves more to the imagination to what it could be. At one angle, it could look like a series of angels fluttering about the clouds, and at another, it could be thousands of crude-looking men going off to war.

Many hours in the meeting room is spent allowing one's mind to wonder with these unsophisticated excuses for doodles, as so often the topic really is boring. The annual meetings so rarely end in anything worthy of note that one can't help but consider it a dull affair, and reflect that maybe at least a death or two could spice it up a little.

With nearly forty of them in the hall, how is it that it's always the same few who speak on and on?

"Naturally, the selection of champions chosen by myself shall see to the scourge of Planet Ork," tells the bulbous, gelatinous excuse of a kai.

He's one of the uglier ones; impossibly fat with beady eyes that don't share a sense of direction. One can't help but stare. His jowls wobble with each undesirable syllable as his lips spew a fountain of saliva upon the meeting table. Really, he's quite disgusting.

"These chosen champions have been turning up dead every other day," retorts another kai, one that's a little easier both on the eyes and ears. This one's name escapes him… What is it again? Shiv? Shern? Oh well, it hardly matters; they so often only go by titles here anyway.

"You are worrying far too much, Supreme Kai," guffaws the fat one.

The Supreme Kai sighs, frustrated. "This mysterious faction has been spotted in all the corners of the universe over the last few years now. Why are we not doing anything?"

Watching the couple of kais blather at one another, his ears perk. These two are mostly definitely talking about the Zealites.

"They have yet to prove themselves a threat to the kais," replies a female kai after a time. "It is best to observe their behaviour before we involve ourselves."

"They have already entered the Sacred World of the Kai," the Supreme Kai goes on to say. "This trespassing is a demonstration of power. One cannot simply just come and go from such a sacred place."

"Hearsay. I refuse to believe the Sacred World of the Kai has been infiltrated by such a lowly order of nobodies."

"This is the issue. We do not know who they are, we are not-"

"Supreme Kai, we shall wait on this. There is no use chasing after a ghost."

"Respectfully, I believe they are of importance. Who kn-"

"Ey, wait a moment," hums the fat one, "you, Lord of Revelation, didn't you mention chasing down some mysterious faction a few years back?"

All thirty-something heads turn towards him, most with faces as flat and bored-looking as his must appear. He doesn't bother to rectify this. Most of the attendees are kais today, with only several other gods bothering to show face. Why he does, he has no idea. Really, he would rather be back at the estate training with his brothers. The day had been nice for it.

Alas, he has a role and so he must at least feign interest.

"…Mysterious… faction?"

The Supreme Kai leans forward over the mahogany. "Do you know anything of it, Lord Quell?"

Oh, he does. But when he brought this up years ago, not one of them had been interested in the non-kai related problem. Famis dying had made little difference to them. In fact, one of the Gods of Revelation being dead most likely benefited them. With less power, Gods of Revelation are less of a threat after all.

And so, out of spite, Quell simply leans back against the wooden frame of his chair and hums. "Possibly, but it depends on the information you wish to relieve yourself of. I cannot help those who do not share everything, Supreme Kai."

With satisfaction, Quell watches as each of the kai's faces contort into displeasure. His reputation in this chamber is not a kind one. And when they deal with him, even those with the best poker faces cannot hide their dislike of him, their frustration with having to jump through his hoops should they need anything from him.

Some of the other gods can be heard tittering and muttering to one another. Quell watches as Lord Beerus the Destroyer snorts into his tankard.

"Lord Quell," the Supreme Kai tries again, "I do not have much information in the first place, but should anything I describe sound familiar to you then I would hope you could assist me. I know that the Realm of the Almighty is famously impenetrable… but, has such a thing happened there? Have you had intruders?"

"Hmm, how recently are we talking?" Quell asks, light, twirling a strand of hair around and around his finger. The Supreme Kai watches. "Last night, I had no such intruders. Last week, none either."

"Please-"

"Oh, I suppose you are right. I do happen to remember bringing up having an intruder many a year ago. Do you remember my mentioning of it? I informed the council of my younger brother's murder by such an intruder. No inquest, of course, but I cannot expect such a thing, can I?"

One kai, a cretin so old that he looks about ready to collapse, stands. Such an ancient windbag has no place here. Quell hadn't even known that kais could get so physically old. "We found nothing curious of it."

"No, I am sure you wouldn't have."

"Lord Quell," comments one of the gods, "let's not do this here today, otherwise the day shall not end. Please tell the Supreme Kai of anything you know about any dangerous groups currently in operation so we can all go our separate ways."

Quell releases his hair, huffing. "…Fine. Listen closely as I am not to repeat myself… Many a moon ago, a faction member broke into the Realm of the Almighty and made an attack against the youngest of my brothers. The individual was very quickly slain.

From their identity-shielding magic, I knew they'd been with reason to hide away, and that that individual had been a part of a faction most suspicious, a faction with the ability to reach beyond the securities of any plain and god. Naturally, I could not ask any questions of them as corpses are not known to be avid conversers." He sighs. "The kill had been inappropriately swift."

The Supreme Kai's eyes grow wide. "By your hand? Did you see the face?"

"Unfortunately not. I hadn't been there. The death would have been much more excruciating had I been involved."

"Anything else?"

Quell hums, thinking. "No… I think that's it. I have no further information I can give."

That I'm willing to give…

The Supreme Kai nods, solemn. What a poor lamb. "I understand…"

Over time, the matter is forgotten and the conversation manages to draw on for a further several hours without Quell having to contribute much. Whilst he is more vocal in the smaller meetings, these larger, more kai-dominated get-togethers have him wish that he was anywhere but. Rixas had suggested skipping out, but he's never done such a thing and he won't start today… no matter how nice the day had been.

Besides, the juicy titbit of possible Zealite information has made today's trip worth it in his books. If the kais are taking notice, then surely the Zealites are expanding, or at the very least; growing more brazen. Soon, Quell will get a hold them, of their leader, and make them taste justice for Famis' murder.

When Quell hears the shuffling of papers, he knows the meeting is finally wrapping up. However, business is apparently unfinished because as soon as he goes to rise from his chair, he hears a voice call him out.

"You, God of Revelation."

Quell pauses. "…Yes, Lord Beerus?"

"Planet Yardrat was destroyed not long ago," he continues, tone cranky as his ugly feline ears twitch in agitation, "That was you, right?"

Not directly me, but yes, by my instruction.

"The council passed the action on the second appeal. I had requested it to be put in line for you to destroy it but…" Quell's voice draws on, "perhaps you were just too busy. How long had your last nap been?"

Murmurs echo around the chamber, bleeding out into long sounds of discontent. Angering Lord Beerus is never an advised action, what with a temper like his, but Quell doesn't enjoy being spoken to like the help. Quell is not a lesser.

"It is not your role to decide what needs to be destroyed and what doesn't," Lord Beerus snaps, teeth sharp and bore for all to see. Quell personally thinks they could do with a good brushing. He can't help but stare as the wrinkly cat man starts to run hotter and hotter. "For you to step into my line of work is nothing short of disrespect –I hadn't allowed Yardrat to be destroyed for reasons not needed to be disclosed to you."

"Yardrat harboured ki techniques that it should not have had access to," Quell heatedly returns. How many times has he needed to relay this point? "Power of the gods."

"Destroying it might have ruined the balance!"

"The council did not think so, and neither did I. It is my role to oversee the extension of the Almighty and its power and influence. Yardrat concealed such a thing, and so I became involved as is my duty, you lazy layabout!"

Beerus barrels forward. "How dare you! Do I need to teach you sense? How about I show you the power of a destroyer!"

"How uncouth," Quell returns, sharp, "I have no interest in sparring with you today, Lord Beerus, as I refuse to indulge you with my attention when you are so inadequate at your work."

"Lord Quell!" he hears a kai gasp.

"You have gone too far!"

"Please, do not fight."

"Stop! We're in a sacred place!"

"You bastard," Lord Beerus thunders, "prepare yourself!"

Quell is already up on his feet, his energy rolling over and through him in waves of pressure. With pleasure, he notices several of the kais looking rather sickly, particularly Zamasu, from the weight of it. Lord Beerus, however, looks disappointingly unaffected. Another flash of ki surges from his body and he formulates a stance ready for defence. Whilst he has little interest in being the aggressor, he's more than happy to shut this fool down.

"Enough of this."

Ah, a sane voice at last.

"Whis," Quell greets, dropping the stance. Finally, he can restrain his beast.

"This is no time to pick fights, Lord Beerus," Whis scolds, finger raised as if reprimanding a schoolboy. "We should not settle our disagreements with fists, but with diplomacy!"

"I cannot look the other way on this," Lord Beerus continues regardless, "I will not be disrespected!"

"But my lord, is such a squabble really worth exerting yourself? Do you wish to tire yourself out with a battle with another god? You've barely been awake a few years."

Lord Beerus looks between him and Whis, clearly weighing up the options as onlookers watch with bated breath. Several of the other gods, whilst don't share the same level of horror as the kais, don't look entirely comfortable with the situation. Quell doesn't understand the dilemma, not really. Lord Beerus often makes a fool of himself at these meetings.

"Let's leave this discrepancy here," the angel goes on to say, "It has been a long day. Everyone is weary from today's events. There's no need to drag this on any longer."

The cat god finally relents, dropping his fists. Relief sweeps the room and audible sighs can be heard, especially when Quell allows his pressure to fade. "Fine, but only this time… and only because I'm hungry and spied a most tasty looking dessert on the way over here today."

"Excellent news, my lord."

A glance is spared his way. "And I wish to not waste my time on such a trivial excuse of a god."

Quell lets it slide. He smirks, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, yes, consider me humbled."

Lord Beerus ignores him and stalks toward the exit. Whis follows, but not without sending him a look of admonishment –which is ridiculous. Who does that antique think he's chiding? Quell had only said what everyone else had been thinking, something which is acknowledged as he makes his way out of the meeting hall himself. Several other gods nod or smile his way.

And just as Quell thinks he's about to be home free, a gloved hand spins him around the moment he's out of the hall.

A black mask faces back, one with thin golden cracks coursing in varying directions from one corner. The dark and the bright clash together uncomfortably, as if unsure on how to present itself, as if it doesn't know whether to be the shadow or the sun. An equally dark robe adorning the wearer suits the look, fitting tightly over a set of traditional robes, contrasting horribly against the whites of the walls around them.

"Very stealthy," Quell says by way of greeting, and then continues down the path. "Why are you here?"

"I watched the meeting from the cheap seats; upstairs."

"Oh, did you now? Did you enjoy my show at the end there?"

"I was… mildly entertained."

Quell laughs. "Cheeky. Have you been on Planet Geo all day, at the meeting –or have you been enjoying the church and the library?"

"Enjoying the church?"

"One can," Quell insists, like the many times he has previously, "it is a wondrous place to birth a clear mind. I have told you again and again that you need to keep your thoughts clear in order to produce the cleanest of ki."

"Um, okay, if you say so... But, no, I watched the entire meeting."

A snort leaves him. "That's dedication, Mori. It had been a rather tedious one."

"I thought it was interesting," he replies, and then his voice trails off, "Beerus brought Yardrat up..."

"He did. Did that… bother you?"

His brother says nothing, walking a little further ahead, shrugging. He is so sensitive these days. It's still something Quell is getting his head around, and something he's trying to be patient with, but it can still be taxing all the same. Figuring out what runs through Mori's head is akin to trying to suss the universe's greatest secrets –the boy is an enigma. So, he tries to change the subject.

"Anything else catch your interest?"

"They spoke about the War of the Red in the West Quadrant. Another planet was blown up, millions dead…"

"I don't recall," Quell admits, "so many die every day. One cannot keep up."

"Mmm… ."

"Don't be such a downer," he reproaches, and then, in a lighter tone; "Oho. Do tell me. Was Rixas unimpressed with your coming here?"

Stupor broken, Mori barks a laugh. "I don't know. I didn't tell him. I daren't. He complains often enough that we don't train together as much as he'd like –complains that you've stolen me away."

"True enou –Hey! What are you doing? Don't you dare take your mask off! Your identity is to remain anonymous! By heavens, stop that!"

"I'm not taking it off! I'm not… I'm just readjusting my robes, jeez."

Quell calms, but just by a little. "For goodness sake, how you still cannot fasten a robe, even at your mortal age, is just embarrassing"

They warp back to the estate from an alley just behind the most prominent church. Quell would not have minded to visit it, but he cannot be bothered to drag around Mori –who finds anything spiritual terribly dull (turns out nothing ever changes there, reincarnation or not). Since taking Mori to visit the Square of Divinity last year, Quell refuses to take him anywhere that involves devout sight-seeing, meditation training or otherwise. He'd found the ungrateful idiot hiding away in a confession box, reading a book he'd brought with him instead of focusing on said training.

Another time, at another church, he'd found him flirting with one of the nuns. Mori swears he hadn't been flirting, swears that they had been simply discussing reading, but Quell had seen how gooey-eyed the nun had been over his little brother. This is not what Quell wants to see –he refuses to harbour another Rixas in their collective! It'd been bad enough that one time a couple years back when he'd plied Mori from the priest's bedchambers –the horny little beast.

So they stopped going there. Soon enough, all churches (and priests, it seems) proved to be just far too stressful for Quell and so now they focus their studious sessions in libraries, museums and galleries. Mori's bright –he's always been bright- and he absorbs the information like a sponge. But there are days when his attention span is off, and Quell is convinced that keeping Rixas on task is actually easier than keeping Mori focused on anything meditation-related.

Once, they'd been meditating in the White Realm and Quell had entered a deep state. Hours later, he'd woken up to Mori missing. Of course he'd assumed the worse, all until he found the little idiot making niceties with the residents in the local village. They'd managed to feed him some sob story about a local dictator, seduced his bleeding heart and wound him up enough to want to do something.

"We can help," Mori had insisted, over and over.

But Quell doesn't deal with petty lowlife warlords and neither should Mori.

"If you want to make a difference then you can attend the next meeting with me," he'd promised. "Mask on, of course."

And that had been that. Mori now often shadows him, often helps where he can. He even attends duties with Rixas, like he'd done with the situation with Yardrat.

At that, Lord Beerus' voice replays in his head, horribly.

"Planet Yardrat was destroyed not long ago. That was you, right?"

Ugh, that cat pisses him off.

"You okay?" Mori asks as he removes his mask. It fades into a cloud of blackened smoke, revealing the large, young eyes of his brother.

"I'm fine."

He looks unconvinced –he's far too perceptive, and getting better at it. The golden dazzle of his eyes run deep with a blossoming intelligence Quell had once been familiar with many a year ago –he can see it returning, slowly and surely. Still, there's a fresh vibrancy of youth that's still there, one which came with his… ugh… his reincarnation. His mortal years make Quell feel even older.

But finally, Mori at least doesn't look like a child anymore. He's fully grown into his form, like he had once done before, so now they reach eye to eye in height. Only the (unfortunate) black growth of spikes atop his head gives him the edge. They're neatly trimmed, at least, but still lean over somewhat, producing two thick bangs which obstruct over his forehead. Quell gets the urge to superglue them down into one place. Saiyan genetics are impossibly stubborn and Quell always needs to pester Mori about maintaining the mop atop his head. It's such a shame his hair isn't what it once was… It'd been long and beautiful like Quell's is now.

Mori leans in. "You sure you're fine? Your energy feels…"

"I'm quite all right. Come; let's go to the courtyard straight away. I feel like we're overdue for today's training. Let's not waste a second longer."

Mori grins –something which will forever look foreign on his face; an open and raw happiness Quell really needs to train him into stop showing. People are going to take advantage of it.

"I have been practicing manifestation," Mori goes on to say, disrobing his uppermost layer of clothing. Apparently, he must have predicted the training session today as his gi sits beneath the robes. "I can produce all the energy ties you showed me. I'm going to apply one to one of the swords later, I think."

Clever boy.

"I suppose it's about time you picked it up," he comments airily, "and save the stripping until we reach the yard. I don't want a trail of clothes following us."

Mori smirks and runs ahead to the weaponry –where he clearly runs into Rixas because Quell can hear the walking foghorn from all the way from back here. There's shouting and excitement, and he presumes them bickering as they so often do.

"Quell!" Rixas booms as soon as the weaponry comes into focus. "Catch!"

He then comes dashing out; brandishing two garish great swords Quell had hoped would have remained hidden under the clatter of piled steel. One of the swords is chucked towards him but Quell just lets it fall to the ground, choosing to step around it.

"Ghastly thing," he mutters. "Give me something less tacky."

Mori at least has a semblance of common sense. He reappears with two thinner, wispier swords.

"Oh, you picked the lame ones," Rixas sulks.

Mori makes a weapon out of that smile of his. "I punctured your lung with this lame one last week."

"You got lucky."

"You got sloppy."

"The cheek!" the dolt gasps. "Quell, do you hear this? I showed him how to use the fucker and this is what I get."

"You should have sliced his throat," Quell tells Mori as he removes his cloak, placing it neatly against the wall. "That way we'd be able to practice swordplay without constant prattling. Pass me my fighting gloves."

Mori does so, laughing. "Rixas is just sour that I've surpassed him so quickly. I did say that it was a matter of when and not if. Does that make you crabby, big brother?"

"Ooooh, oh, ho, ho. Just you wait," Rixas darkly promises, "I'm gonna' write my name in your chest with this bad boy."

The goliath great sword is almost as tall as Mori, but it could hardly appear threatening when in Rixas' grubby mitts. He can barely hold it straight. Quell can't understand why he likes it so much.

"I'm not opposed to betting," Quell comments, "I think a wager is in order." Both sets of mischievous eyes spin to him "Should you even land a hit on Mori with that monstrosity, Rixas, then I shall pay you a thousand gold pieces. But, if you're unable to touch him, then I get to personally snap it in half so that the beast doesn't see the light of day ever again."

"Ooh. So cruel." Mori whistles.

Suddenly, Rixas doesn't look as sure of himself.

"What's this? You're looking a bit green," Mori continues to antagonize.

"I like this one… I conquered Planet Feiliz with it."

Quell clicks his tongue and takes the hilt of the thinner sword Mori had retrieved. "Yet you're not very confident now."

"He's fast," Rixas goes on to add, as if it's more an insult than a compliment, as though it's Mori's very special way of cheating.

Mori raises a hand. "I won't use ki."

"I don't need you to handicap yourself, you brat!"

"Fine, I will use ki then."

"Ugh…" Rixas grumbles, drawing his blade closer, petting it, cooing. Even Mori looks mildly perturbed by it. Both Quell and Mori can only watch as the idiot chatters nonsensically to the steel. "Ech hem… After conversing, Death Slayer says that Mori needs to have stakes in this bet also."

"Alright, then I'll bet Myra. If I get stabbed then you can have her for a week."

Quell snorts.

"No, no, no! Give me something good. How about your mortal candy collection?"

The colour of play drains from Mori's face with speed. "No."

"What?" Quell recoils, "Candy? You're supposed to be dieting! How do you expect to achieve true mindfulness of energy when you're plying your body full of toxicity? I said no; sweets, alcohol, garlic, onion, meat, or anything with artificial additives!"

"Your training sounds dull," Rixas comments, lips puckered.

"We keep our body pure. Anything that stays in the system warps the flow of energy and creates impurities. Sharper, cleaner ki is only made through such practice."

"I haven't eaten any," Mori insists (lies –it would explain why he hasn't been able to produce a clean ki blast yet), "I just like it around. It's going to be my reward for after I achieve the perfect energy surge."

But that's not good enough. Quell scowls, turning to point his own sword in Mori's stubborn little face. "Producing clean energy is a lifestyle. You-"

"Lord Quell! Lord Quell!"

The sword droops, kissing grass.

Great.

Bumbling from the horizon comes his assistant, the willowy figure of Cross, all limbs but no spine. He's useful -and loyal, Quell will give him that, but he's totally repugnant and a little too enthusiastic for his liking. His millennia-old dislike for Mori is also… annoying to say the least.

"Assistant," Quell welcomes, flat. "What is it? Is the estate on fire? Have the chefs begun to fight one another for dominance? Whatever could your urgency be put down to?"

"You told me to reach out to you should… a certain group be spotted in the realm and… and, well…"

Quell spares a look for Mori. He's often quick on the uptake, and from the look on his face, he's read between Cross' less than subtle lines.

Rixas looks less sure of what's going on. "What's happened?"

Let's not make a scene of this.

"I see," Quell breathes, moving to lower his sword. His cloak is retrieved. "I'm sorry, brothers, but apparently I am needed elsewhere."

"Ehhh, Quell, what happened?"

"Never you mind."

"Oi, tell us!"

Quell sends the idiot a look of warning, eyes thin. The message is received because the lout doesn't pester again, even when Mori doesn't bother arguing for more information. No, instead, Mori just watches Quell with a heavy sort of expression, one that he'd wear once upon a time ago. Gone are those laugh-lines and lively, youthful eyes. Now, he just looks between Quell and Cross, calculating something in that big brain of his.

"Do not worry," Quell feels the need to say to him.

The frown lines ease somewhat, and Mori nods.

"Work on the energy manifestation," he next instructs, "I want to see your blade doing your bidding upon my return."

"Ehhh, you're teaching him that."

"Be safe," Mori finally says.

He needn't, however, because Quell has no plans of falling to the likes of the Zealites. If he manages to come across them this time, then he'll rip their heads from their shoulders, bathe the green in red –make them beg for death, all after feeding Quell every little bit of information they know. He'll do all that for Famis, and for his two other brothers that he refuses to let anything happen to –and for himself, because he deserves vengeance.

Quell doesn't need the Supreme Kai's help and doesn't need the assistance of the other gods. Alone, he will bring down whoever dared to harm the collective –his family.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Okay, NOW I'll take a short break. This is only a "mini" special chapter anyway. I doubt I'll be doing any other POVs other than Gohan, Goten or Goku again, but this felt right to pursue right now. I'm quite surprised at how quickly I wrote this, actually. As per, Kags edited it super fast so here it is. It's Monday morning for me so I'm about to pop off to work. Sadly, I don't have much time so I'll reply to reviews and PMs later. I hope you enjoyed this one, and thanks for all the follows, favs and reviews so far! Caio~